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your-regular-toast-enjoyer · 1 year

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An awkward smile pt. 2: Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader.

Damian Wayne x reader. Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader/ Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 4834 words

Part 1 HERE

TW: GN reader, Yandere, kidnapping, adult Damian Wayne (inspired and mostly based off of Damian in Batman beyond & Injustice 2: Gods among us), toxic family relations, obsession, someone getting stabbed with a katana, semi-vivid description of death. Other than that, there's no s*x or anything of the like.

It was dark outside, and still, you could hear the persistent chirping of some feathered foe just outside your balcony. You had attempted to fall to rest for over an hour, yet the constant outside noises kept distracting you from your goal.

Closing your eyes tight, you tried to let sleep take its place, but the bird seemed to take offence to this and turned up the volume of its screechy chatter. Giving up on your long-awaited sleep, you slowly sat up.

A cold breeze blew in from your left, right through the doorless opening to your balcony. The sandy-coloured walls had been darkened with the shadows cast by the moonlight, which shone brightly that night.

You sat alone in the enormous silken bed. Damian was fulfilling his duties as the Head of the league, overseeing large-scale plans of destruction.

“Demon Spawn no longer, now a fully-fledged Demon”, you whispered to yourself. Speaking to yourself was a habit you had since you were a child, but after Damian brought you to 'Eth Alth'eban, you started doing it more frequently. There was no one else to talk to except Damian and his mother. The servants either didn’t speak a word of any language you knew, or they were too afraid of conversing with the spouse of the Demon. Both were equally likely possibilities to you.

Looking at the balcony again, you thought about going out and admiring the moon. Damian would have a fit when he came in, and you weren’t lying in bed, ready for him to tuck you in, but it wouldn’t matter. As long as you stroked his thick hair and kissed his plump lips, it’d all be fine. No one would get hurt.

Crawling on all fours over the green and gold silk blankets, you slowly reached the edge of the bed. Swinging both of your feet over the side, you reconsidered momentarily. Should you really get out of bed, knowing full well that Damian would end up agitated?

You stood still.

Then, the bird screeched out again, and you felt a burning desire to see the perpetrator. Letting your foot gently fall on the brown tiles, you carefully made your way out on the balcony. It was high up, at least four or five stories, if you jumped, you’d die. That was probably the only reason why Damian had let you have it. He didn’t believe that you’d rather die than stay with him. He was right, partially. You had no wish for death, at least not such a gruesome one. But you were desperate. Desperate people sometimes do things they wouldn’t have under normal circumstances.

Looking out into the darkened view of 'Eth Alth'eban, you considered its beauty. Large sandstone buildings stretched as far as the eye could see, their doors and windows cut into intricate patterns reminiscent of flowers and plants. Their roofs were inspired by Chinese architecture, their building style Arabic and the city’s layout western. It was a weird combination, but it somehow worked wonderfully. “Like Damian”, a small voice in the back of your head whispered. You ignored how this city perfectly encompassed Damian’s heritage, his strangely frankensteined accent and how, if he hadn’t been so… psychotic, as Tim had put it, he would have been just as wonderful as the city he ruled with an iron fist.

Leaning over the roundly carved railing of the balcony, you spied after the screeching little antagonist who had kept you awake. It was neither on the wonderfully curved roofs around you nor on any of the near-growing palms. You were much too preoccupied with attempting to find the annoying menace to hear as the door to the outside hall unlocked and slowly opened.

“Beloved!” Damian’s brass voice rang out throughout the room and you swallowed hard. “Bullocks…”, you whispered gently, as you turned around and slowly peeped out from the side of the balcony’s entrance.

Damian hadn’t noticed you yet as he scoured the entire bedroom and adjacent bathroom on the left side of the bed. “I’m here”, you muttered quietly, afraid of his reaction. Turning around fast, Damian stared you down, his green eyes shining like a cat’s, ready to pounce at any moment.

“What were you doing out there?!” Damian practically hissed.

“I was just looking for a bird that kept me up”, you tried to keep your voice level, but it was difficult when you had seen what Damian could do if provoked.

The man in front of you raised one thick eyebrow, a clear sign that he didn’t believe you. Despite the curses you had mentally thrown that damned ball of feathers previously, you now wished deeply that it would call out once again. Damian moved his tongue to the inside of his right cheek as if he was looking for any pieces of food that might’ve gotten stuck there. Slowly one of his feet started tapping the floor impatiently, his head bopping along to the rhythm gently. At first, you were at a loss for what his body language was trying to tell you. But then you realised. He was waiting to see if there really was a bird or not before he took any further action.

You stayed where you were, on the balcony, holding the side of the entrance tightly as you were only letting your head into view from the inside of the room.

The seconds seemed to pass incredibly slowly, and your fingers and toes turned cold despite the tropical weather. Damian sighed and was about to take a step closer to you when the infernal fowl finally whistled its hellspawn song.

Damian stopped in his tracks, his jaw slowly losing its tenseness. A gentle “oh” pressed its way through his lips as he stood still, looking awkwardly towards you for no more than a second before regaining his composure.

“I apologise, my beloved.” It came out more as realisation than as a true apology, but you’d take it. Damian rarely admitted fault when it came to anything.

“It’s okay”, you whispered, but it was not and you knew it. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of the man you married. It was wrong. It never felt like this with Tim… You reprimanded yourself mentally for thinking of your old friend. If you just ignored the bizarreness of Damian’s obsession with you, the fact that he forced you here against your will, that he may or may not have killed Tim, and everything else relating to the darker sides of his love, then your life might have seemed like a movie. You supposed most wouldn’t consider living in gilded luxury as a horrible fate, even if that entailed being locked within the confines of a room or next to your husband’s side for the rest of eternity. You lived in a cage of gold, with yourself being adorned in the finest fabrics and fed the best-made food imaginable. It was all too much. You had never enjoyed this type of excessive opulence and it all felt forced, a useless attempt at covering up the cracks in your relationship with gold.

Damian bowed his head down, just a bit, enough to make him seem less threatening. Opening his arms for you to step into, “Come, beloved. It’s late. You should be asleep”. Your younger self would’ve fought back, spat insults in his face or avoided his gentle caresses. You had been naive to have thought it mattered.

Tentatively stepping straight into his chest, your face pressed into his silk robes, you let him wrap his strong arms around you. Tightening his grip around you like you were a stuffed toy and he was a child. “I missed you, my love”, Damian gently whispered in your ear, the hairs on your neck standing up straight, you knew that meant nothing good for you. As he guided you towards your shared bed, he stopped just short of the edge, gesturing for you to crawl under the covers, you complied. Damian went over to one of the many intricately carved wooden closets which lined part of the left wall. As he softly pulled open the closet doors, you observed how the muscles in his arms pulled tautly. His arms had gotten more muscular than they had been back in Gotham, you supposed that Bruce’s and Damian’s training styles worked on different areas of the body, not that you knew anything about Batman’s training regiment.

When Damian had pulled out a long and loose silken dress, the same type that you were currently wearing. Undressing and redressing in his nightwear, he took his old clothes and threw them in a woven reeds basket next to the bathroom door.

Turning to you, he smiled. Striding to the side of the bed, he climbed under the smooth covers as well, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head.

“Did your day go well, beloved?” You nodded, you knew that this was a test. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for your day. He did. But what he really wanted was for you to return the question. To feel that you cared just as much about him as he did you. If you didn’t ask him back, he’d turn agitated and come tomorrow a servant would lose their head. He would never physically hurt you, he worshipped your skin like it was made of diamonds. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish you by letting you know that your action or inaction was the cause of multiple servants’ deaths.

“What about you, Damia-” You caught yourself, Damian despised it when you used his full name. He’d often cite how you’d called his brother Tim and not Timothy, so it was only fair that you used his nickname, as well.

“-Dami”, you corrected smoothly.

He hummed, content. “Thank goodness”, you mused to yourself.

It didn’t take long for Damian to fall asleep, he had always been a light sleeper, but he was also quick to fall asleep. You supposed that was useful for a soldier. Being able to sleep as soon as your head hit the pillow and wake up at the slightest disturbance. It took you a while to sleep. The thoughts of all your old friends, family and especially Tim flooded your mind. How did you let it all go so wrong?

You sat in the league’s massive library in the early morning. The first time you were alone in months. Damian had been forced to oversee an emergency and you had reassured him that he could simply drop you off in the library and you’d be there when he came back. He decided to trust you. Besides, it wasn’t as if you were really alone, there were guards stationed on the outside of the library doors, ready to capture you and bring you to Damian, should you decide to run. Still, this was the most alone you had been in a while and you had missed being by yourself. Dancing around on the polished wooden floor, with a book in your hands, you laughed loudly.

“What’s so funny?” An unfamiliar voice questioned with an amused lilt.

You stopped immediately, looking in the direction of the voice. A man with bone-white hair and even paler skin stood in front of you. His eyes were covered by green-tinted sunglasses and his age was hard to discern. Younger than Talia, but older than you was your best guess. Then again, from what Damian had told you, Talia was near immortal, so you supposed that most people were younger than her.

“Nothing.” You replied courtly, not wishing to appear rude, nor wishing to get this man killed for interacting with you.

“You were dancing around with a book, laughing like a madman, darling”, the man chuckled. Staring deadpan at the man, you noticed how he wore a deep green cepken. Green was reserved for the Al Ghuls. Either this man had stolen his vest, which was unlikely as he would’ve been killed for such an offence, or something else was going on. “Who are you?” Your voice was much louder than you had intended and your eyes swiftly turned to the library’s door, hoping that the guards hadn’t heard you.

“Ah, interested in the stranger, are we?” The man smirked, he had the same calming yet unidentifiable accent as Damian, although the stranger’s were on the thicker side. Taking a step back, you made sure not to trudge on the long viridescent robes that your husband had made you wear. You were tempted to threaten the pale man by calling the guards but decided to simply turn around and start walking away. The library was large enough for multiple people to be within it and never see or hear each other. Besides, if the man posed a danger, the large floor-to-ceiling bookcases would prove excellent in helping you hide.

As you walked, you heard the man come running up behind you. “Aw, come on sweetheart, I was just teasing”, he threw his hands into the pocket of his loose trousers, walking alongside you.

“Please leave me alone or explain who you are”, you spat. Before Damian took you, you might’ve held a more tactful tone, but a combination of getting used to the royal treatment and having lost the naivety you held before your kidnapping, had made you uncaring of others’ perception of you.

The white-haired stranger didn’t seem to mind though, instead, his smug smile broadened, “Ah, of course! How could I possibly refuse the order of the Demon’s spouse? Dusan Al Ghul is the name.”

You stopped in your tracks, and so did Dusan. “Al Ghul?” You exclaimed surprised. He looked nothing like Talia or Damian. His hair was as white as snow, theirs was dark, bordering on black. His skin was like ivory, both Damian and Talia held a golden tan, Talia, more than Damian. Something was wrong, you discerned. Yet, when you let your eyes take in his face, you could see the resemblance to Talia. Same roman nose, same high cheekbones and same broad face.

“Albinism”, Dusan offered, his tone amused. Like he had given the same explanation hundreds of times, but never stopped finding others' reactions hilarious.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry”, you stuttered out, your intentions hadn’t been to offend the man.

He waved your concerns off with a limp hand movement, “Don’t worry about it. I’d probably be confused too if some ghost-looking man claimed to be the son of Ra’s Al Ghul.”

Now your confusion was made worse, son of Ra’s? Wouldn’t that make him the true heir of the League of Assassins, not Damian? You wanted to ask, but you were afraid of further insulting the man. You settled on consoling him for the death of his father. Damian had told you that Ra’s died in an attack a few years back, how long ago? You had no idea, but it couldn’t hurt to be polite after the stunt you had pulled earlier. “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” It came out as little more than a whisper, and Dusan raised his eyebrows mockingly.

“Don’t apologise for that old idiot’s death. It was well deserved. I certainly felt next to no sorrow over his long-overdue end.”

“Still. Losing a parent must be hard.” You tried to justify.

Dusan shook his head and raised his shoulders, “Eh, he cast me aside for my appearance, I seldom thought of him as a father.”

That’s why he isn’t the one sitting on the League throne, you realised. Ra’s had rejected him for his condition.

“I see, then I’m sorry for you not losing him earlier”. Your eyes widened, that wasn’t how you had meant your words to come out. You had often ended up with quotes like that one when you were around Tim. Too comfortable to think how your overly-analytical thoughts might sound to others. You must’ve gotten too relaxed in Dusan’s company without realising it. You gulped audibly, ready to apologise when the white-haired man let out a burst of roaring laughter.

“Oh wow! I can see why my nephew likes you. Yes. That is exactly what you should console me for! My father passing too late!”

You chuckled quietly as well, your infamous awkward smile pulling on your lips. It felt refreshing to not have to walk on eggshells while conversing, you had almost forgotten what that felt like. Feeling emboldened, you asked a question which had plagued you for a while, “How old was he anyways? I always hear everyone call him immortal, but surely not, right?”

Dusan took a second to think, then grinned sheepishly, “Don’t judge me for not knowing the exact year, but I believe he was around five hundred years old when he passed.”

If your jaw could’ve dropped to the ground, it would. “Five hundred?!” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, Talia is a hundred and fifty. Guess my age!” Dusan gave your shoulder a push, he was strong and almost drove you into one of the bookcases beside you.

You stared at him in bewilderment. Talia was a hundred and fifty! She didn’t look a day over thirty-five! You knew of the Lazarus pit’s powers, but still, to the uninitiated, it was astonishing how well it truly worked. Taking a good look at Dusan, you thought he couldn’t be more than twenty-seven, maybe twenty-eight. However, if Talia was a hundred and fifty, he would have to be a hundred and something as well. “A hundred and ten?” Your answer was less of an educated guess and more of a wild shot in the dark.

Dusan looked impressed, “Close, a hundred and five.”

You looked over at him again, debating if it would be appropriate to joke about his non-existent plastic surgeon. Suddenly, Dusan’s face turned even more mischievous, “You really think I look five years older? Wow! Unbelievable! What if I said that about you?!” He dramatically threw a hand to his forehead and held his shirt tightly, posing like a character from a Shakespeare play. He looked absolutely ridiculous, and you laughed loudly. It was hard not to, Dusan seemed like a natural-born entertainer. The first of his kind that you had seen in the League.

Dusan was gone when Damian picked you up again. The green-eyed man had been impressed with how much more energy you had for him that evening, even joking around like you had done back in Gotham. Damian came to the conclusion that perhaps your previous apathetic behaviour was simply a result of you being an introvert, and not getting alone time to recharge. Grayson had once explained the concept of introverts vs extroverts to the youngest Wayne, and if Damian was honest, he had thought it was all a bunch of pseudo-science, not to be taken seriously. Yet, here you were, living proof of the theory presented by his brother. It encouraged Damian to let you stay on your own in the library more often. Every time you returned to him, you’d be more energised than the last.

What Damian didn’t know was that you weren’t alone in the library. No, every time Damian let you alone in the library, his uncle would know and join you.

This routine of yours went on for months. A few days every week, you would ask to go to the library. Damian would relent as you initiated deep kisses with him, convincing him to let you stay for hours by appearing overjoyed in his presence. You had even once jumped into his arms, folding your legs around his waist, as he came to pick you up from your “alone time”, as he called it.

One late afternoon, Dusan and you had been joking around in the library. The way the bright sun entered the large windows, hitting the sandy walls, the large bookcases and Dusan’s green-tinted spectacles, it all felt familiar and freeing.

“You’re pretty spry for a hundred-something-year-old, you know?” You teased the man, as Dusan climbed up on one of the bookcases to fetch a book that had caught your eye. “Yeah? How would you know? What other hundred-year-olds do you have to compare me with?” He laughed as he threw the book at your feet, jumping down and sauntering over to your side. As you bent down to pick up the book, you mumbled your response, “Your sister. But she’s even more active than you.” Dusan heard you, despite your attempt to partially hide your answer and he smirked. “Oh yeah? How would you know? You’ve only ever seen me in the library, darling. You don’t know what I get up to on the outside.”

Shaking your head at his silliness, you turned to look directly into his glasses. “What do you get up to, then?”

Dusan raised his chin, and you knew he was about to come out with a teasing response, “Well, I quite like to train with the katana… and flirt with charming and intelligent individuals. Although, the latter I also do quite often in the library.”

You blushed a little, you knew he was just joking, but you couldn’t help but play along with a challenging smirk. “Oh really? How many people visit the library regularly?”

Dusan cocked his head to the side, pretending to count, “Two, unless you’re bringing your husband along secretly, which I’d find just a bit awkward.”

“Just a smidge”, you agreed with an awkward grin. Deciding to join in on the teasing, you crossed your arms, your eyebrows drawing upwards in mock disgust as you joked, “Don’t you think you’re a little too old for me?”

Dusan shrugged as he looked at you from the top of his glasses, his pinkish eyes on full display. You had seen them a few times before, but that didn’t change the fact that they appeared like the most beautiful spinels to ever exist. It was such a shame that he hid them behind the green-tinted lenses. “Don’t they say age is just a number?” You both laughed louder than ever before. Looking to the side, you both realised that you were right in front of the closed library doors. Dusan and you turned to each other, and giggled again, this time more quietly. As you kept your gaze on the white-haired man and he kept his on you, something started to bubble in your stomach. It had been there for a while. Those feelings. Dusan wasn’t really the type of guy you would’ve usually gone for back in Gotham, but here? In a palace where you were trapped by your obsessive husband, who had kidnapped you and maybe even killed your best friend. Dusan was the only good thing you felt like you had left. Dusan felt the same, or at least he very much appreciated your company. You knew it to be true because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have risked getting caught by Damian, just to meet you for a few hours. You would have usually felt bad about having such intense feelings for someone else when you were technically married to Damian. But the circumstances around your wedding made you feel as if the vows exchanged were nullified. You had fought Damian, and anyone else who aided him, all the way up to the altar. It had so clearly been against your will, yet none had stopped it.

You kept repeating this in your head as you carefully stepped closer to Dusan, reaching up for his glasses, and gently taking them off. Your movements were slowed as much as possible, giving the man ample opportunity to stop you. He didn’t. Instead, he tenderly touched your cheek. This was the closest you had ever been to him physically. You noted how he held the same scent of burned incense as Damian. Leaning towards you steadily, he halted right as his lips were hovering above yours, giving you time to step away. You stood your ground, and Dusan placed a heavy kiss on your lips, closing his eyes.

Just before you leant in to reciprocate the affection, the library doors swung open. Damian stood there. Fuming. He had been informed by the guards of the loud laughter and had immediately sensed something off. He had been correct.

You didn’t know how it happened. It felt as if Damian had suddenly teleported next to you. One second, you stood with Dusan close to you, the next he lay bleeding on the tiled floor.

Your scream echoed throughout the entire library. Guards surrounded you and the two Al Ghuls. You were about to run to Dusan, when he discreetly lifted his hand, stopping you. He knew it was over for him, but he could still save you from Damian’s wrath.

“Nice spouse you got there, nephew. I thought you probably didn’t mind me smooching them a bit. You know, a family shares everything, r-right?” His speech was interrupted by Dusan heaving quietly for breath. Damian had stabbed him straight through the abdomen, and not in any of the safer areas. Of course, he hadn’t, Damian was a professional in the field of killing, he knew exactly how to snuff someone’s life out slowly and painfully.

“How dare you?! You filth!” Damian roared, and you flinched.

“Ah! I see that the two of you have something in common! T-that’s what t-they said as well!” Dusan attempted to laugh, but it came out more as a wheezing. You were confused by Dusan’s words, you had been the one initiating the kiss. Then it hit you. Dusan was taking full responsibility for the kiss. He was making sure that Damian wouldn’t hurt you. You stared at his pink eyes, they were getting glossy and it frightened you.

Damian’s nostrils flared, his face heated and his teeth ground each other harshly. He was giving you the same impression as a bull seeing a Matador flailing a red cloth in front of it. “You will pay for touching my beloved”, Damian whispered. Somehow, his quiet tone was more horrifying than his yells.

“You stabbed me dear nephew, isn’t this payback e-enough?” Dusan uttered in his best attempt at a jovial manner, you knew he was doing this for you. You knew he didn’t want you to realise that he was scared, but his eyes betrayed him, and the worry behind his irises was clear as day.

You took a step towards the two men, and your eyes travelled to the slim hole through Dusan’s stomach. The red splatters of thick and warm blood were everywhere. It contrasted terribly well with Dusan’s milkwhite skin, a few drops had landed in his long snowy hair. A maroon pool of the thick liquid mixed with the dust of the floor was spreading out from underneath the only friend you had left. You noticed how Dusan’s deep green cepken was stained darker around the pierced flesh, yet it hadn’t turned colour. It was almost calming the way the vest covered the actual wound, it was hiding the actual damage from your sight. That was something Dusan was grateful for as well.

The man had known that this would happen sooner or later. His nephew kept constant tabs on you, besides, Dusan had never been known for being discreet. He didn’t mind dying like this. He had lived a long life, longer than he had ever wanted, and despite his horror at not knowing what came next, he didn’t mind dying after having kissed the only person who ever cared enough to get to know him. It seemed like a poetic ending for someone as old as him.

As Dusan’s body turned cold, Damian had turned your head into his shoulder, whispering gentle praises and apologies for not being there before tragedy struck.

His long and thin fingers raked through your scalp, gently scratching the skin in a comfortable rhythm. It would have been nice if the dead body of your only friend didn’t lay behind you.

After Dusan’s death, you lost hope. He had been your only ally in this strange and unwelcoming place. And as much as you hated to admit it, he had reminded you of a more extroverted version of Tim. The way you just clicked instantly, the way he didn’t mind your at times bizarre humour, instead indulging in it. It felt just like when Tim was there. You loathed yourself for his death, entirely your fault. But what was even worse was that it wasn’t just Dusan that you mourned. It was Tim’s possible death as well.

Somehow, having seen Dusan’s passage from this world to the next gave you a sense of melancholic closure for both him and Tim. It was as if, by seeing Damian’s reaction to Dusan kissing you, you could imagine his reaction to Tim’s friendship with you.

These were the thoughts you contemplated every night as you stared into Damian’s beautifully carved face, born to look perfect. How cruel was the world? To give a monster the magnificence of an angel.

A/N: There was technically a bit of Dusan Al Ghul x reader in this, but it's my horrendously OOC version of Dusan. Dusan is not an OC, I don't really like to use OCs in works based in other universes, other than the reader themselves, of course. Dusan is very much a real character within the Batman extended universe... I urge you guys to search him up, the real version is much cooler than my ESTP/ENTP-ified version. Anyways... I hope you enjoyed it! (And thank you to the anon who requested a part 2).

#yandere damian wayne #yandere damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #yandere x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #dusan al ghul #dusan al ghul x reader

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kylejsugarman · 2 months

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how does baby do during her first semester of college, when she’s just 17? how do jesse and demi adjust to having no kid at home?

oughhh ive always hesitated to talk about this specific transition because its so tough for all parties involved......like yay super close family unit formed :) oh god the linear nature of growth and change :( they try to plan it all out and prepare Really well for the moment where jesse and demi leave campus after moving her in and baby stays behind to start school so that it's a "clean break", but it lasts like. the road trip back home. before baby calls like (1 million bad feelings too big to express) "I Want To Come Home" and it's nearly impossible for both of them to not be like "yes ma'am right away" (gets right back into the car for the 12 hour drive) because they also want her to come home. its been just the three of them for so long that its so hard to suddenly split up and deal with that sudden change when part of the comfort of their family was that like. there didnt Have to be dramatic life changes anymore

demi has more experience with the transition to college life, so she's the one who helps baby deal with not having as Consistent of a routine and adjusting to living with a roommate when theyre both people who value having their own private space. baby misses structure and familiarity and doesnt leave her dorm room for anything other than class for almost the entire first semester because the newness of campus is too overwhelming and she doesnt have any solid points of contact. demi completely sympathizes and tries her best to consistently coax baby out of her dorm over the phone and advises her to consider joining a study group for her favorite class, which ends up being the jumping off point for baby actually meeting some people and leaving her room. jesse feels bad that he cant offer more concrete support and advice like demi, but his emotional support is crucial to her even surviving that scary first semester. he'll drop everything to talk on the phone with her no matter the time of day, giving her that safe and familiar base to return to, and its not uncommon for her to ask him to stay on the phone with her until she falls asleep, especially during those early weeks. he only ever posts mail under demi's name just out of paranoia, but he sends her lots of letters that are mostly just doodles and brief tangents and physical photos of the dogs, all of which end up hung on her walls to comfort her. she relies A Lot on them that first year and they're happy to help her: baby is a kid who Needs support and they provide it because they love her and want her to feel like she can pursue her dreams with room and cushioning to fail and fall.

as for jesse and demi being empty-nesters, it's just really Weird at first. they're obviously doing a lot of parenting from a distance and they initially talk about baby all the time out of their joint concern for her wellbeing, but it's odd not having her there. they were also kind of relying on a routine that's now gone. demi's depression resurges and she loses interest in all of her hobbies, letting her garden grow over. she just feels really lost and directionless: taking care of baby and being her guardian was demi's New purpose after losing the rest of her family. jesse backslides some, smoking All The Time since they dont have to worry about indoor smoke triggering baby's asthma and getting high with mason pretty frequently rather than just occasionally. he needs a distraction from the hole in his life, the huge amount of loss he'd incurred that had later been filled by demi and of course baby. that was his buddy :( his best friend. it's tough for both of them to confront and express these feelings, but they've gotten a little better at being Open over the years. sheila drags them out of the house as often as possible to hang out with her and her wife so theyre not just sitting around feeling sad. she basically instructs them to make more friends and strengthen their preexisting friendships (sheila knows best, after all) and just keep enjoying life. they're still young!! they're not even 40 yet!!!!! hanging out with other people definitely helps, but just having each other during that time is the most potent method of coping. not having baby there for the first time Ever in their relationship makes both jesse and demi realize how much they love one another and how closely their lives and hearts are now intertwined. its a really hard time for everyone involved, but by the time winter break rolls around, all three of them are definitely in a better place than where they started :)

#syd squeaks #anon do u have any idea how much this warmed my heart. answering this was the most fun ive had all week :')#it poured out of me i had so much fun writing this #jesse pinkman #demi ayuluk #baby ayuluk #mason ayuluk #sheila burton

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tunawithsoysauce · 1 month

Text

Stuff you might wanna know :3

about ~me~

Name: Finn/Todd Henriksson

Age: 13 (2011)

Swedish, third generation Finnish

Weird

Transboy

Bisexual

👆 the main stuff. Scroll for a bit more detailed bullshit.

▪︎I LOVE MUSIC!!! I go to a music highschool, my parents are musicians and I love singing and playing french horn. Fun thing, right!?

▪︎I'M TRANS (wow!) I'm transmasc, and have been as long as I can remember (I came out at eight, I believe?) And my pronouns are he/him! I'm a boy. Only boy.

▪︎I USUALLY DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING (wha) I don't know what im doing. Most of the time. Id like to believe im kind and try to be good, but you know. It is what it is.

▪︎HAIR DYE AND ROCKS! (lmao what) i love dying my hair. And rocks. Not cool rocks. Just... rocks.

▪︎ART!!!! (YIPPIE !) I love drawing and writing and stuff like that. Very fun. Its like the only thing I do haha

▪︎NERD!!! (OFc) I love fixating on stuff. Which leads me to our next segment...

▪︎Interests (online)

The main ones AREEEE: *drumroll*

1. Doctor who! (My sister used to love it. She showed me it all and now im as big a nerd as she is.)

2. Sherlock holmes! (Or Sherlock & co. Both. Mostly just the novels. The BBC show if you make me.)

3. Good omens! Or Neil gaiman in general! (He's very cool)

Eeeeh otherwise im very obsessed with loads of stuffs. Just. Ask me if ive seen something, ill probably have.

Family!

▪︎Mum & dad! (My mum's mean sometimes. Not all the time. She can be good. She’s just... she has a diffrent way of loving.) (Dad! He's amazing. I love him.)

▪︎ main siblings! (I have two fully bio siblings. Otto, and Ruben. Otto is 6 and Ruben is 14. Otto is silly, my big brother is amazing. He's my true rolemodel :))

▪︎ half siblings (I DONT ACTUALLY CALL THEM HALF SIBLINGS)

A) -Anna!! She's the one im closest to. She’s the youngest (26) and has a cat and a fiancee (Jim.) Jim's cool. Very silly. He's also sort of a role model, for me. He's been in my life for all of it, I think? My sister had a boyfriend before that. He was very quiet. Anna is very nice and I love having sleepovers with her. She was also the one who introduced me to Doctor who!! We always have so much fun. She really likes the beatles. Don't know why I put that there. She just really likes them. Felt important.

B) Malin!! My middle big sister. She’s awesome, and She’s got a whole family. A husband (He's amazing and so so so smart i literally think he's so cool) which i think is very rad, and my neice !!! He's called Einar. He's 3. He calls me "uncle Todd" (AJSKSJJDKD)

C) My biggest brother Mattias. He's quiet, but also very awesome. His girlfriend is very nice too. She has green hairdye in her hair. :3)

▪︎FRIENDS!!!

I LOVE MY FRIENDS!!!

This includes:

1. Leija! We met in the beginning of fourth grade. She’s weird like me. And awesome. I love her.

2. Elsa!!! She's been my best friend all my life. Our mums know eachother. She’s kind and beautiful and always makes me happy.

3. Elvira!!! My mandatory lesbian friend. That's a joke. She’s cool. And very nice. She never speaks ill of anyone. She’s truly the kindest human ever.

4. Sofie!!! A non-binary chaos machine. I love them. They're always a joy to be around.

5. Max!!! My absolute best friend. He's amazing even though we barely met even a year ago. I visit him frequently.

5. Jack!!! (Love interest? Kind of dating?)

Side characters (wtf)

▪︎My therapist!! She's called Emma. Uh.

▪︎My father figure!!! Otto. Not to be confused with my little brother.

▪︎ My Swedish teacher!! I just think she's awesome. She’s also called Anna. Not to be confused with my sister.

▪︎ All my finnish friends! Jesus christ if I named all of the finnish blokes ive befriended id die typing.

▪︎ this random dude I met on reddit i haven't talked to for two months :D

▪︎Sofia!! A lady at my school. She’s awesome. She’s practically my step mum. She’s held me while I cried in the nurses office more than I can think.

▪︎ uhm

Hobbies!!

Mondays: french horn B)

Tuesdays: dancing!! (With Elvira:))

Wednesdays: orchestra!! (French horn)

Thursdays: TSS!! (A place you can hang out at)

Fridays: bugging my music teacher and playing drums with my bassist friend until I get kicked out!

School

As previously mentioned i go to a music school. We have music everyday. Its awesome.

I love swedish, music, art, english, french, and history.

I hate P.E, math, science and homeroom.

Bye :33

#blog #about me #all about me #yayyyyy

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lighthousegod · 1 year

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WHAT IS MY CAT

Hey, so I have a Cat Question (or more like a Cat Request, really) and was hoping the science (??) side of tumblr, or cat identifying side of tumblr, or something like that, could help?

So, I got my cat Mikey (Michelangelo Mayhem Apollo *last name*) in January of 2022. The vets estimated she was about 3 months old. She was found by a family friend we met through my grandma, who is a manager at a vet clinic herself. Unfortunately, her areas of expertise are horses and dogs, so she could only help so much. I'm looking to find out what breeds Mikey may have in her.

Physically, Mikey has only gotten stranger (and cuter, ofc) as she's gotten older. She is a looong cat. She's got longer legs than my roommates' male cat at 1 year old. Her tail is much longer than other cats I've been around too, about the length of her torso. Despite that, she's not very big. She's skinny, and pretty small compared to our medium sized male cat back home.

She's also got big ears. I thought she'd grow into them, but they still look kinda big compared to our other cats. They even have the slightest hint of a tuft coming off the ends, but I think that's more likely to be her long-ish fur.

That's another thing- her fur. I say long-ISH because it's not quite domestic-long-hair-long. The vet called her a domestic medium hair, which I didn't know was a thing. She's a calico, with half of her face being black, the other (right) side being orange, and a cute white strip down her nose leading to her white chin and chest. Her fur pattern is pretty regular for a calico, but that's not even the weird part-

Her fur is CRAZY soft. Like, for the longest I thought my fluffy grey and white tabby, Loki, was the softest I'd ever felt, but she takes the cake over any of mine, or my friends, or any alley cats I've had the pleasure of petting. The best I can describe it is like- you know when kittens are real little? Their coats aren't fully grown in and their fur is almost like down on a baby duck or smth- all fuzzy and soft as a cloud and sticking out everywhere. It's like that, even as she's grown a little, all the time. It lays down mostly now, and looks more silky than downy, but the softness is still there. Still, it's not all that thick. My roommates short hair is so much denser, where as Mike's hair seems so light. I've even had other cat owner friends comment on it, wondering why she was so soft ("but silky? Like, not fuzzy. Loki is fuzzy, but she's silky. Its weird")

Jumping back to bone structure and how long she is, though, she's got a long face, too. Not quite like a Siamese or Oriental breed, her nose is much longer than any of my other cats. My dad says her face looks like a lizard or a dragon, while my other cat's face is like a racoon (Idk man he's weird). Either way, she does have a sort of long, more harsh bone leading to her nose that reminds me of those two breeds I mentioned before, and they do also have long limbs and ears, but she just looks too different from them for that to be all she is. She is definitely a mix.

(If you read this far, here's a pic. Sorry for holding out on you.)

Now, let us discuss Michael's... strange... attitude.

She is a sweetheart. And when I say that, I really mean it. She's very vocal, and greets me every time I open my door. She purrs all the time, even when she's just looking at me. I love her so so so much god.

She is also insane. She yells a LOT. She never (or rather hasn't??) Grown out of that high pitched kitten meow even though she's over a year old. I think she just likes talking. I know Orientals are also known for being super vocal, so maybe that's got something to do with it, but there's more to it. She still acts like a kitten, running around SO much more than my other cats. Her "zoomies" are frequent, and while she isn't attacking my feet under the covers constantly anymore (my first 6 months with her were hell and I have the scars to prove it), she IS still PARKOURING OFF OF WALLS??? AND SHE'S ONLY GETTING BETTER AT IT. I swear she gets both feet on there, catapulting herself off like. On x games mode for real.

But yeah, she still acts like a kitten, mostly. Still looks like one a bit. I have a sneaking suspicion she could be a slow maturing breed, or at least a mix of one with something else, but I'm not sure what breed that would be.

Also, important note: she acts like a dog. She "talks" like one, plays fetch like one (she taught herself), and her romping with other cats really does just seem more like puppy play. She trots around like a little horse too, which isn't that important but it's very cute. And she's just so smart. Like I said, taught herself fetch (which isn't as uncommon as you may think, apparently), and can even PLAY GAMES that she MAKES UP.

Once, when I was at my first university, my dad came up to visit. I wanted to show him she could fetch as she'd just learned recently, and when I threw it she excitedly chased it and... brought it back to my dad instead of me. So, okay, fine, she just doesn't wanna play with me. Be that way. Except, the next time she brought it to me. And then to dad, and then to me again. And it became clear she was doing that on purpose. But soon, she broke the pattern, and picked dad over me again. I assumed we were all done and pretended I wasn't betrayed, but NO. She then proceeded to bring it back twice in a row to ME, and then to him twice, and the me again. Like, I know that's not that impressive. But my other cats don't even know what to do with their toys besides bat them around. It was big for a little kitten to be making up games and shit. Maybe she's just extra creative, idk, but it was wild. She still fetches to this day, until her balls all unraveled and she can get a new one.

Anyway, she's just. Such a weirdo. She's terrified of the car (it makes her carsick, but it didn't when she was younger), and she's scared of outside despite her curiosity(the lady who found her lived pretty remote. I got her because I thought she was affectionate and calm. Turns out she was just sick, and actually is insane! But very affectionate still. My mom has a theory that she fears going outside because she was sick and alone in the cold woods for a while as a baby.)

Alright. I think that's it? Idk I'm long-winded as hell and I'm sorry for that. But I hope someone may know some breeds who are known for her physical traits, and maybe these personality traits as well? We'll see. So anyway, thanks for meeting Mikey! Feel free to call her any iteration of Michael (Myers, Afton, Jackson, B. Jackson, Jordan, whatever floats your boat.)

Here's some more pics :)

#cat breed #cats #calico #my cat #cats of tumblr #science side of tumblr #science side please explain #veterinary #kitten #not like discord kitten #like my actual cat #she is just a baby #dont be weird

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cistematicchaos · 11 months

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4, 5, and 8? /not forceful

4. do you know any disabled people irl? what about online?

Yes! My blood family is actually mostly disabled (most of my siblings included) and I have a lot of disabled neighbors and a few activist/poetry friends offline who're disabled as well. Keep in mind I use "friends" loosely bc I've been extremely isolated bc of the pandemic and wasn't great at making friends beforehand lol but yeah.

As for online, yeah, I pretty much only know disabled people online and they've literally saved my life sooo many times over. It's also just kinda showed me such a different light on friendship and relationships in general and I really treasure all the disabled folks ik on here, even loosely, you're all lovely fr. <3

5. if you have multiple disabilities: do they affect each other? how?

jesus christ, yeah. In so many different ways! My autism causes a lot of stimming, which doesn't mesh super well wish chronic pain. I have to do a lot of vocal stimming now, which sometimes doesn't work well with having chronic migraines lol. My chronic migraines can increase my general chronic pain and vise versa. My psychosis can aggravate my migraines. My reynolds can make stimming hard, because its painful sometimes! And those are all negatives, ik, but my disabilities so frequently clash that it's hard for anything but the negatives to be the first to come to mind.

But on the positive side, my autism gives me a lot of things i'm obsessed with that I can concentrate on when my chronic pain is bad. My psychosis actually helps me deal with my depression sometimes, bc I hear weird things and my instinct with my psychosis is to laugh instead of get freaked out so it lifts my mood a little sometimes. My stimming sometimes keeps me from being too still for too long w/my fibro. So. Yeah, they affect each other. in a LOT more ways than ppl would expect tbh.

8. my answer was long for this so i made another post ;_;

thanks for the ask/questions, reign, these were really fun to answer! <3

#disability #asking chaos #reynoulds syndrome #autism #actually autistic #actually psychotic #chronic pain #chronic migraines #fibro

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combatfaerie · 5 months

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Ficlet: Bedecked

Story: 2021: Bedecked Word count: 1,079 Relationship(s): Becky/Seth Also available at:AO3 and Wattpad and dreamwidth Summary: Seth tries to figure out Christmas traditions.

"Stockings? Santa photos? Elf on the Shelf?" Seth sounds like he's making his way through some arcane checklist and that's because he basically is. It's not like his family doesn't celebrate some version of Christmas, but now that he's been with Becky for almost three years, he's been exposed to more Christmas rituals and traditions than he could imagine. At least I didn't propose as her Christmas present, he tells himself. This is Roux's first real Christmas—she wasn't even a month old for her first one—so he wants to make sure she enjoys it.

Becky comes over and looks at the paper in his hand, smiling softly. "You made a list? Aw." Wrapping her arms around him, she cuddles up to his side. "That's so sweet."

"Well, I mean, it's not like I haven't done Christmas before," he replies, hoping he doesn't sound defensive, "but I know it's your favourite holiday, so I want to make sure I know what's going on."

"As long as you don't do that Happy wife, happy life bullshit with me," Becky insists. "You have to enjoy everything too."

Happy wife. That's been Seth's goal from the second he knew he was going to propose. Their wedding was postponed because of COVID and so much happened before they finally got wed—Roux was born, Becky's father died—that it feels like they crammed a decade of experiences into a year. Becky made her in-ring return at SummerSlam and won a title, and things have been going full tilt ever since—and Roux has been with them for most of it, on the road, on flights, and backstage. "I know. I just know it means a lot to you," he replies, "and I think it would be cool to build some traditions for her too." He looks over to their daughter, who's happily dancing with the dog. "I know it can be whatever we want it to be...."

"Exactly. I'd say yes to stockings. I had one as a kid and they're fun. There's always small little presents you can sneak in there. Photos with Santa?" Becky grimaces a bit. In some ways, Roux is remarkably well socialized, in large part from being backstage with so many adults. It may be different when she's the centre of the spectacle, though. "If Mick was doing a Santa appearance, that's one thing. I know we're getting the certificates," she adds, "but I don't know about a mall Santa. We'll have to see. We can try. The mall may be the hardest part of that equation."

Seth nods. In Davenport, anyway, they're recognizable enough that they get stopped frequently. The fans usually aren't rude—mostly they just want a selfie or an autograph—but it can make even the simplest activities take forever. Los Angeles has its own problems. "There must be some... private Santa functions or something, right?"

"Probably. We can look into it." He's not at all surprised to see that Becky has a list of her own and she adds Look up Santa options at the bottom. "Elf on the Shelf?" She frowns again. "I never had it. I think it's a bit weird, to be honest. Also, not too sure how Darrell and Kevin would take to it."

"Good point." The cat and dog were good with Roux herself, but they considered any toy left on the floor to be fair game. Unless the surveillance Elf was kept on a high perch, it likely wouldn't be safe. "Um... matching pyjamas?" When Becky chuckles, he just shrugs. "I saw it on a commercial. I didn't know if it was an actual thing or not."

"I know some people buy matching pyjamas for their families for Christmas Day, but...." Becky trails off, glancing over at Roux. "You'd probably overheat in flannel, and she seems to have your genes for that, so she'd probably have the shirt off in ten minutes."

Seth laughs. "She is my mini-me," he agrees with a grin. Then he raises his voice a bit. "Hey Roux, do you want matching jammies for Christmas?"

Roux perks up at the mention of jammies and toddles over to her parents. Jammies means bedtime, which in turn means stories and dancing and picking out her favourite stuffed toy to sleep with that night. "Ammies?"

Seth crouches down and hugs his daughter, lifting her up with a groan to make her laugh. "Not right now," he explains carefully. "For Christmas." He points to the huge tree in the corner that they put up yesterday. They're inviting his mother and stepfather over to help decorate it, so it looks rather bare at the moment, but Roux loves it all the same; Seth has caught her sprawled beneath it more than once, napping happily. "Would you like to have jammies that match Mama and Dada's?"

Roux looks over to Becky. "Mama ammies?"

Becky nods. "Would you like some like mine?"

"Yeah!" Roux nods so emphatically she nearly bonks her head on Seth's chin.

"What about Dada?" Becky asks, darting in to kiss her cheek. "Should we get Dada jammies like Mama's too?"

"YEAH!" Roux's enthusiasm makes Seth need to tighten his grip on her so she doesn't fall. "Dada ammies too!"

"Well, that's one thing settled," Becky declares. "Now we just need to go jammie shopping."

Seth sighs. Becky was right when she said he would probably overheat, but if he only has to wear them for an hour or two, he can make do. I can always take the top off, he reasons, setting Roux back down on her feet so she can run over to Becky. "Okay. Let me get my phone," he says, "and we'll find some jammies we all like."

"Ammies! Ammies!" Roux starts twirling around with happiness and if Seth needed any more reason to wear flannel, it's right there—in her absolute joy, the way her delight powers every movement.

Becky watches Roux dance, her smile as soft as Seth's heart feels. "I know Santa normally gets milk and cookies," she said casually. "But I think he might appreciate a cup of coffee every now and again, don't you?"

"Absolutely." Seth rests his chin on Becky's head. Maybe the matching pyjamas will become a yearly thing; maybe it will only happen once. He just knows he'll appreciate the chance to make memories and moments with the two people he loves the most—even if he's wearing flannel while he's doing it.

#combatfaerie fic #brollins fic #rollynch fic

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embervoices · 1 year

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@shiny-speedy-devotee’s

Polytheism Asks

What’s your least favorite myth? I don't really look at it that way. I'm certainly not fond of the ones involving consent violations.

What’s your favorite myth? Again, I don't really look at it that way. I suppose I like the ones that are just plain weird.

What pantheon(s) do you worship? I'm effectively an omnitheist. Depending on how one itemizes pantheons, I've had at least brief contact with more than I'd like to try to count. But the pantheons I relate to consistently enough to have permanent marks on my body for are: Vanir, Aesir, Orixa, Loa, Irish, Welsh, Hellenic, Kemetic, and an infinity symbol for the Whole That Is Divine. I'm also an animist.

Who is your least favorite ancient poet/philosopher/old guy who said “smart” things? Probably Thomas Aquinas. Not that he had much to say about my faith, really. But I had to read some of his work in my Religious Studies and Philosophy classes in university and am definitely not a fan.

What’s your favorite snack to share with the gods? (Curtesy of @luminarycanary) Honey is sacred to nearly all of them. I collect varietals.

Do you pray daily? If so, do you have a prayer schedule? I don't have a schedule. I have everyday prayers, but I say them as the impulse arises, not literally every day. They go well before a meal, and before undertaking ritual work. But they're specifically centered on the Vanir, who are Family/Home to me, so I have other set prayers/songs for other purposes, as well as whatever extemporaneous expression arises.

Do you do any rituals or celebrate any holidays/festivals? Yes. Many. MANY. I should make this its own post.

How often do you make offerings, and what is your most common offering to give? The most common offerings are a candle, a libation, or a song. Candles happen several times a week these days, if only for the Community Well Being Altar. Libations are less common. They used to be several times a month, but the reasons for that have fallen away over the last few years. Still, at least monthly. Songs are connected to specific prompts, which have also fallen away over the last couple years. Those, too, are closer to monthly right now.

How many altars do you currently have up, if any at all? Uhhhhhh *counts* 8-12, depending on how you count altars, I think? Some people distinguish between altars and shrines, at which point I'd have to say most of those are shrines. If I itemize the individual deities, I have easily dozens, but they’re mostly clumped together by pantheon or domain. I have one, maybe two working altars going most of the time lately.

Have you ever made a travel altar? In the sense of making a specific small portable altar/shrine thingy, no. In the sense of packing up a small box of whatever it seems like I might need for travel, many times. I’m not opposed - it sounds like a fun craft project. But what I need with me varies a little too much, beyond what I carry in my purse all the time anyway.

What deity do you think your taste in music best represents, regardless of who you worship? Probably Brighid. With a side of Ghede.

What has been your favorite interaction with a deity so far? I have absolutely no idea how to answer this.

What is your favorite devotional act? Singing!

Would you say there’s a certain “type” of deity you follow? Or are you more broad, without rhyme or reason? Most of the gods I work with at all frequently are on the Life/Death axis, or are Tricksters. But I will work with almost any deity who drops by, if there's a reason for it. Magic is also a pretty common domain around here.

Have you ever worked with a deity? As opposed to what? Well, regardless, by just about every definition that might have been meant by this, yes. Working with deities is pretty well my job. I'm ordained Vanatru clergy, a spirit worker, dreamworker, oracle, and witch.

Have you ever been to a religious site (for your deities)? Several. It seems like every time I get to go on vacation, the Powers find a way to turn it into a pilgrimage. Gamla Uppsala in particular was wonderful.

Do you have any UPGs? Quite a few. Mostly about the Vanir.

What is your favorite way to communicate with the gods? Possession trance is extremely helpful, but there's a lot of places to introduce error into the process, and it can be damaging to handle it poorly. Still, ecstatic trance states in general are a major focus of my practice, when possible.

Do you just worship deities, or do you worship heroes, spirits, etc. as well? My practices include animism and ancestor reverence. I tend to focus less on "heroes", and more on personal connections, and general interconnectedness.

What’s something new you want to try in your worship? Herbalism. Fragrance blending. The overlap between my list of craft interests and my list of worship interests is very high.

What would your ideal practice look like? I wish I knew! The last few years have changed a lot, and I'm frankly at a bit of a loss now. It's been exhausting. I can't keep up what I had to build during lockdown, and the extended community practices that supported me before don't work anymore. Figuring out what I and we need to do henceforth is a big, big task on my plate right now. More than I can really address, yet.

Have you ever received a dream/a big sign from a deity? I'm a dreamworker, so my sense of scale for this is probably skewed. But yes, several times.

Are there any new deities you want to contact? I already have more deities on my list than I know what to do with. I won't refuse newcomers, but I'm not seeking them out.

How do you define devotion vs worship? “Worship” is the expression of love for divinity. Forms of worship correspond to "love languages": praise, offerings, services, etc. “Devotion” is a deeply personal relationship with a specific entity. They’re different points on a continuum. Roughly the emotional difference between enjoying a party to honor a member of your community you think well of but don’t necessarily hang out with much personally, vs. paying personal attention to your best friend, lover, sibling, etc. Either way, the point is the relationship.

What is your favorite symbol of your deity(ies)? I am rather fond of the Vanatru Boar symbol.

#vanatru #relational polytheism #devotional polytheism #polytheism #interview meme #polytheism asks

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safflowerseason · 2 years

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I LOVE Gilmore Girls but it's weird that in a show so centred around class, it mainly only criticises the wealthy for being snooty and socially conservative. It has little to say on the wealth divide's uglier side. Its presentede that Lane, Dean & Jess couldn't go to Chilton or Yale because they weren't that academic anyway. Meanwhile it was only really Lorelai who had money problems (not Luke, Suki etc) and that was OK because she had a safety net that she was too proud/independent to use.

Hi Anon - I’m *so* sorry it’s taken me weeks to get around to your ask. But I loved your comment so much I wanted to take the time to offer a thoughtful response, especially because it’s a theme I’ve been chewing over in my head for the past few months, since I watched the latest season of AHP’s other show, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

I agree that Gilmore Girls has sort of become known over the years, in culture critic circles and online fan discourse, for its unflinching portrayal of how money shapes relationships across generations. And I also agree that for how much of the show revolves around money and wealth, the show never considers the other side of the middle-class divide - it just head-fakes there very occasionally, and usually pretty awkwardly. AHP is fundamentally uninterested in writing characters who truly struggle to make ends meet, as a basic condition of their daily lives. While that’s totally fine and fair, it stands out more on a show like Gilmore Girls, where money problems are a frequent plot device, a character having to deal with the true financial consequences of not having money never actually comes to pass. She uses the struggle to succeed as mark of valor in her characters, but even if that struggle has major financial risks (like Lorelai opening the Dragonfly Inn), the show never goes there. AHP is just not interested in exploring the material consequences of losing wealth or what it means to not have any money. Rather, a lot of the plot of Gilmore Girls is about how various characters on the scale from comfortably-middle-class to old-world-wealthy interpret money, wealth, and the idea of class status to define themselves in relation to others around them, and to influence the outcomes of interpersonal relationships. While the central conceit of the show is Lorelai turning to her parents for Rory’s private school tuition, she and her daughter live a mostly financially secure middle-class life in a prosperous town. In Gilmore Girls, AHP consistently mines the concept of wealth for conflict, but it’s always for interpersonal reasons, always to show something deeper going on within the relationships of the show, it’s never to actually consider what it means to not have that wealth in the first place. Unlike Jane Austen, none of AHP’s heroines ever run the risk of truly becoming impoverished.

As a result, you get moments on the show like Lorelai borrowing $30000 from Luke (which is the equivalent of $50000 in 2022) and then it’s never mentioned again, and Rory sputtering “but I’m a Gilmore!” to Logan when his family ends up hating her. No one in Stars Hollow is actually poor in a real sense, even those characters we might think of as having more traditional “working class” jobs. Even when Lane and her bandmates rent that one-bedroom house (a whole house!), you never get the sense they are *actually* struggling to feed themselves and pay utilities. Instead, that whole experience is framed in a primarily humorous way, with Lane having to find a way to live with two gross twenty-year old boys who eat all the food and play video games instead of being responsible roomates. Luke, who lives over his diner, has enough money stowed away to not only lend Lorelai half a million dollars but also buy a huge house without telling her. Jess is one of the few characters to be framed explicitly without a penny to his name, and yet we never actually see him dealing with the reality of that except very briefly in S4 (and that backdoor pilot in S3, I guess). Besides, the next time we see him in S6, he’s clearly on his way up, with a published book and a job at an independent press. This is another example of AHP equating the struggle to become financially secure as a sign of good character. Which, of course, it’s totally fine to want to get out of shitty economic circumstances! It’s just that on GG, no one ever stays in those circumstances for very long and/or the implications of those circumstances are never really explored. Where the implications of money *are* fully explored, it’s primarily with characters who have a lot of it, like Richard, Emily, Christopher, and Logan in their relationships with Lorelai and Rory.

I was thinking about this topic while watching S4 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel a few months back, specifically the plot when Midge takes a job opening for Sophie Lennon because she’s so worried about money. The speech Sophie gives Midge about her finances, which is set in Midge’s apartment that she’s somehow bought back from Moishe in a way that was never satisfactorily explained, is very similar, almost identical, to the speech that Trix gives Lorelai in S4 about the Dragonfly Inn in “The Incredible Sinking Lorelais”, about how she’s very obviously bleeding through her original budget. Midge takes the gig, it blows up in her face just like Susie said it would, and then…well, she loses Sophie gig but we get no indication after that that her finances continue to be a source of angst. So I think of a lot of the way these themes of money and class are represented on Gilmore Girls are due to AHP’s particular quirks and interests as a writer. She likes to explore the interpersonal implications of wealth, but never the flip side of losing that wealth, nor are her depictions of the working-class and the middle-class especially realistic. Oh well! It is what it is. I wouldn’t describe AHP as a writer whose work is deeply grounded in reality. There’s a lot of fantasy in her world-building, which to be fair she has taken heat for.

I suspect the reason the topic of money and class is a bit more sensitive within the GG fandom is because Rory has gotten so much hate over the years as the epitome of clueless white female privilege or whatever, and also because of the endless shipping wars between Jess and Logan fans. All of that discourse feels pretty exhausting to me—trying to reduce a character’s virtues down to how much money they have is pretty dumb (unless that person is a billionaire, in which case yes they are morally bankrupt). The point of Rory’s character is that she exists in the liminal space between her mother and her grandparents: she grew up with her mother in a middle class home but doesn’t reject the wealth and class status that is theoretically hers by virtue of her birth (and no, spending her early years in a shed doesn’t negate her financial privilege—sorry AHP, but the idea of Lorelai raising baby Rory in a shed on the grounds of a luxurious B&B where she worked as a maid is absolutely a rich person’s idea of what it means to be poor). Most of Rory’s blindspots I chalk up to AHP's lack of interest in figuring out how certain things work, like journalism and elite private universities.

I was going to go into a whole analysis of how class is specifically explored on the show (as opposed to money) through Rory's relationship's with Dean and Logan, but this is already a long enough essay so that will have wait for another time! Thanks so much for writing in, Anon, and for sending such a substantial ask!!

#gilmore girls #the marvelous mrs. maisel #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #i'm still here! i still do answer asks!

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millimononym · 2 years

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The Attackers

here are Venus and Brambles, the attackers of my OC team! (i don’t have a name for the team yet. names are hard). Also if you remember the first oc post and remember the guys name and are wondering, yes, everyone in the team is named and has their looks based off plants. this drawing kinda looks weird cuz i drew the heads first like a dumbass

ANYWAY OC BACKSTORY/PERSONALITY TIME

so Venus is like...one of the only decent people in the entire team(don’t get used to it). She’s very energetic,bubbly and sweet. She also eats a lot. She grew up as the oldest sister in a poor household with a single mom and multiple siblings. As she’s an adult now(early 20′s) the responsibility of caring for her siblings falls on her as her mom is in the hospital. She uses the money she earns as a footballer to pay for her mom’s hospital bills and care for her siblings. She’s incredibly stressed (as you can see from her antennae,they droop when someone is feeling negative emotions) but tries to seem happy in front of everyone because she believes showing negative emotions will rub off on people and she doesn’t want that. She puts other people’s needs before her own because she likes seeing people happy. She doesn’t like conflict but CAN and WILL beat someone (cough cough BRAMBLES cough) up if they’re hurting kids. Dated Brambles at one point...i don’t know how that happened but i’m glad that’s over with

Brambles. This motherfucker. Actual alien equivalent of Ricegum. Going from talking about Venus to talking abt him is giving me whiplash. Absolute ASSHOLE. 0 redeeming qualities. anyway i should probably talk abt him now. He’s the brother of the teams’ backup player and Sugarcane’s cousin. He’s the oldest out of 4 siblings and is an absolutely horrible brother if you were wondering. Grew up in a rich household and is a spoiled brat. No wonder his father left (oh yeah btw his dad left lol). Regularly makes fun of the backup player(his youngest brother, who is SIXTEEN BY THE WAY) for having mental problems and attachment issues (HMMM I WONDER WHAT COULD’VE CAUSED THOSE. probably not LIVING IN A LOVELESS HOUSEHOLD WITH AN ASSWIPE OF A BROTHER). He’s even worse later but i’m not gonna spoil it. How did he manage to date someone as sweet as Venus. I have no clue. I don’t wanna talk about him anymore, his personality is draining to the brain. If he was a real person i’d spit on him

[[EDIT/UPDATE 19.8.2022: ok so i’m not really good at making my stories(i mostly make characters and specific scenes) but Brambles was a pretty barebones guy, even for me. Wasn’t much to him besides being his brothers abuser and being a disappointment to his family. So i wanted to flesh out his character a little more i guess (that’s a lie it came to me completely randomly while listening to music lol.(the music was Splitter Girl by weevildoing and Kareshi No Jude by syudou if u were wondering)).

This might change but as of now some things are added: Brambles was a child who took his familys’ neglect as any rational child would: By developing extremely violent tendencies to harm himself, and every other creature unlucky enough to be near him! ...yay. Frequent victims include animals(who he definitely murdered, by the way) and his youngest brother(hope i introduce him soon so i can stop calling him just that cuz its weird). His other 2 siblings were too slippery for it i guess. Plus theres 2 of them so thats twice as many hands to throw at his face, which they did. TIMEJUMP TO THE PRESENT, i actually have a reason for Brambles and Venus breaking up besides him being an asshole: Cheating. Motherfucker cheated on her with a defender in the team(who i ALSO havent introduced HNNNGHHH) and also cheated on him with Venus because NEITHER OF THEM actually KNEW about the other dating their boyfriend, so technically they were both cheated on. It didnt go to well for our boy here,as you can imagine. Probably gonna need to add some scars to his design now lol(maybe the back? cuz im lazy and dont wanna change anything). So yea those are the changes for now byee]]

WELL OKAY that’s them alright. As one last thing u may have noticed: you can see in the picture that they’re wearing matching collars. That’s actually part of the teams uniform (which i forgot to include in Sugarcane’s reference pic like a dumbass). Each position has a different color and the attackers one is red! A shame Venus has to share the position with Brambles but what can you do.

#galactik football #GF OCs #original character #my art stuff

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midasinc · 2 years

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🎼, 🔮, 🫂 for Combeferre and/or Feuilly, please!

i will do all for both bc i love them <3 if something doesnt make sense i am sorry i just got home from work and took melatonin and im so sleepytired rn

combeferre:

🎼 - he's a major key. i think combeferre would be e major, specifically because of its chords. i think it might sound like a basic scale at first but its chords are just so... hopeful. i think combeferre is like that. he isn't just another member of les amis, i think his hope for the future and his support of the revolution despite preferring peaceful tactics is really smthn. e major chords kinda hit like that. idk what im talking about, anyway i think he'd be a string instrument. aint no way this fool isn't a bass. he's a bass. if he was a woodwind brass he'd be a tuba. but if he were to play something, i think it would be a trumpet bc he kind of gives off band geek (affectionate). i dont think combeferre would be in a school orchestra

🔮 - i feel like it's too easy to assign him to be either a cleric or a wizard, but i also feel like that's just something combeferre would like. i can also see him being a druid. believe it or not i dont think combeferre would be a dungeon master, i think he prefers to play the game then tell the story. i also think he wants to be something "cooler" at times but is too scared to make a new character that isn't just magic-based because he thinks his friends might judge him for it or make a weird remark. so he likes wizards and clerics, but he's thinking about making a ranger or a paladin character !

🫂 - combeferre is close with both his mom and his sister but once again, with my own hc of their family configuration i imagine him to be very sullen and angry and closed off after losing his dad. he acts out a lot in frustration and grief and it caused a ton of him yelling and slamming doors at his mother, and then ignoring his sister. he calms down after a few years, though, and now the three of them are very close. i imagine him and his sister to write each other quite frequently in canon era- they're both very smart individuals and look forward to each other's letters. it makes their days when they see that they have mail

feuilly:

🎼 - i think as a scale he would be c-minor. he's close to that c-major sound, that happy and typical sound. feuilly is close to being like some of the other members of les amis, but he misses a lot of happy attributes that the others might have due to growing up in vastly different circumstances. his chords are still pretty, but there's something sad behind them. as an instrument i see feuilly being woodwind. i think he could be a brass instrument, like a trombone or a french horn. however i think he'd play the viola as a musician

🔮 - i think he's a ranger at heart. he sometimes plays monk and barbarian, but he's a ranger. all of his characters are sort of the same angsty background with trauma because feuilly definitely doesn't project onto his little guys. but he's definitely a fighter, so he mostly plays as a ranger. when he's feeling more weak irl he plays barbarian bc it makes him feel a little more capable of doing hard things

🫂 - ......well- okay. in canon era? i dont think he has any family, or anyone he remembers. but there was this older woman in the village he grew up wandering around in who would sometimes leave little pieces of food out for this feral child, and he was very emotionally attached to her. there were times when she would give him things and they'd talk for a little while and he made a mental note to pay her back one day. he doesn't get to. in modern era, i think one of his foster parent families werent awful. feuilly is another one of my certified Problem Children growing up and he rarely got along with a/o stayed for long with families because either they couldnt stand his attitude or he was "unfixable". one family that he lived with for a few months when he was fifteen were really nice, though. the only reason feuilly had to leave was because they got a job offer in japan and couldn't bring him with. he still emails them sometimes and they send him christmas cards and a little gift on his birthday. they're the people he would consider to be.... some form of loving. other than that, he isn't close with any relatives or any other foster parents

#ty for the ask !!#les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #les mis headcanons #combeferre #feuilly

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faintlyof · 1 year

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dr tiktok and dr google making me research POTS a bit >>

i mean, i wouldn’t say that omg i definitely have POTS, but i really don’t think it’s normal the barf/get extremely nauseous/get so light-headed and dizzy i have to sit down/pass out after being a little too warm a little too long. ツ

like it’s been like this since i was little. i can literally name every time its happened cuz i actively avoid to things that may make me hot like that.

first one i remember, camping at an rv park when i was like 7 or 8. my family all went in the hot tub, so i did too (yeah i was probably a bit too young anyways but what happened next surprised everyone! xD) but i ended up getting out of the tub after about 2 minutes because i started to feel nauseous. proceeded to spend the rest of the night vomiting. ツ actively avoided hot water for a while. it was also around this time that we had to write diaries for school and in one of my entries i had drawn a picture of a frowny me at a doctor saying “I‘m sick” and the diary entry was something like “I love water! It’s really good! But I don’t like drinking hot water. It makes my tummy hurt.” so yeah, there’s that too.

in high school, my choir went on a trip for a competition, so i was probably 16 or 17. a bunch of the girls wanted to go in the hot tub, so i kind of reluctantly followed them. sat in the hot tub for about a minute before telling my friends i wanted to swim in the pool instead, but actually, i was starting to get that cold sensation of nausea ツ went back to avoiding hot water

at my first job in japan, so i was probably around 23 or so, after many students harped on how awesome it is to take baths, i decided to very very carefully try to take a bath. i drank a big glass of cool water before, filled the tub with lukewarm water and left the bathroom door open so it wouldnt get too hot in the room. sat there for the most stressful 5 minutes of my life. mostly felt anxious i would be barfing for hours, but didnt actually feel too bad. stayed sitting in the tub and let the water drain out around me and only when the tub was nearly empty, i stood up. immediately my vision went grey around the edges and i felt faint and then i passed the fuck out. ツ went back to avoiding hot water but now also avoiding warm water. xD

and the most recent time, which doesnt actually involve water for once! yippee! got on the train to go to work in winter. it had snowed recently and it was quite cold, so i was wearing my winter coat and scarf and the train had the heaters going. maybe a minute or so after the doors closed and we started moving, i began feeling that cold, creeping overheating neasea feeling. i was already standing, so i leaned against the frame of the door so when the door opened, the cool air would hit me and toughed it out, slightly untying my scarf and unbuttoning my coat. when i arrived at my station, i was so light headed, i literally threw myself onto a bench on the platform and took off my scarf and coat and literally just chilled in a short sleeve shirt for like 5 minutes until i felt well enough to go up the stairs and get to work. ツ literally terrified all winter every winter that this will happen again because i do not want to be the person who passes out on the train.

then in general, when i try exercising, i get really sweaty and shaky like really fast. i can do like a low impact cardio workout for like 10 minutes max before i start to get shaky and start feeling a bit queasy. and omg if im watching a funny movie or talking to a friend and getting excited or laughing a lot, my lips go kind of numb and prickly and i cant really control them?? a bit in the fingertips as well. i dont know if thats related but laughing/being excited/whatever is kind of an intense activity soooo

so yeah, that’s why i’m curious about this whole POTS thing cuz the it gets worse in heat thing is a symptom that ive heard about pretty frequently.

or maybe im just weird. xD anyways, 10 minute lukewarm shower life v(n.n;)

#faint rambles

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thebatfamfanatic · 3 years

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Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #jason todd fluff #dc comics #robin!jason

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norangeyyy · 3 years

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Late Night HCs

Bucci Gang Edition

TW: nothing too extreme, just a little bit of hurt/comfort stuff sprinkled right here and there.

Bruno Bucciarati

► Bucciarati typically doesn't stay up late at night, he has work and would squeeze all the amount of sleep he can get on his free time.

► Unless he has a lot of things in mind.

► It doesn't matter whether it's a work-related problem, his past, a random thought, or just generally his worries about his future. It will keep him up.

► He'll definitely need someone to be an outlet but if no one's available, he'll just stare at the night sky and distract himself with the moving clouds or finish some of his work until he's too tired to think of anything.

► If you happen to be in the same situation and same place that night though, then make sure that you take care of the trust he has for you when he was at most vulnerable and he will do same with you.

► I personally headcannon Bucciarati to be the type to like those kind of conversations since i highly doubt that he has been so vulnerable in front of anyone besides Abbachio ever since he joined the mafia.

► And even then, he's mostly the one who lifts the spirits up and not the other way around since he's the leader.

► So expect to hear things and words you wouldn't expect to come from the Bucciarati you see everyday come spilling out of his mouth, it'll be a lot.

► Pat his back or better yet, give him a hug and brush his hair while doing so. He needs it a lot since he hasn't really got one after his family fell apart.

► "I feel so much better now, thank you. I'll make sure not to forget about this night. "

Leone Abbachio

► The night owl of the gang.

► Staying up until 3AM is nothing new to this man, hell, he could even go on a whole day without sleep if he has a lot of things that's bothering him.

► He's the opposite of Bucciarati, he prefers to shoulder his intrusive thoughts alone. It'd take some great amount of effort and trust to make him talk and let it out.

► What he does during those times is either using his stand to replay certain memories that could either worsen his guilt or put him at ease, or just drink until he passes out but most of the time, he does both.

► He could also be listening to some music while he does so but if he's feeling guilty for making Bucciarati concerned about his frequent drinking, then he'll just listen to music and hope that he'll fall asleep and not just keep his eyes closed until the sun rises.

► It works, kind of, but even without alcohol driving him to sleep, he'll always be tired. His sleeping schedule is seriously messed up because he never really cared about it in the first place.

► Would sometimes go out for a walk. Leone is fond of the city's peacefulness when everyone is asleep, with the only thing keeping him accompany is the cold air and the dim light of the lampposts.

► Secretly still has his police uniform and would occasionally take it out just to stare at it or talk to it in a not-so-kind of way as he sees his younger self in it.

► Gets dragged in whatever shit Narancia and the others are up to if he gets spotted. Mostly it's just for a movie night behind Bucciarati's back but Abbachio knows better and expects the unexpected when it comes to the gang.

► Knows what everyone does in late night if they're still up and has seen a lot of ungodly sights.

► Whether it be seeing a sleepy Mista and the pistols chanting a weird prayer to a bowl of cereals or Fugo being dragged out of his room by Narancia, Leone knows it.

Pannacotta Fugo

► Just like Bucciarati, Fugo rarely stays up late at night and if he does, it's usually just because he's busy.

► Fugo has hobbies like painting and reading, everyone in the gang knows that. It's just that he gets carried way too far sometimes and loses track of time.

► Who could blame him though when the book he's reading is just too interesting or the painting he's currently working on is almost done, right?

► On extremely rare occasions where something unpleasant enough to keep Fugo up at night happens, he'll bundle himself in his fluffy blanket like a butterfly in its cocoon.

► He always does this back when he's still living with his parents, it makes him feel safe from anything that's haunting him.

► And if it's neither his hobbies or problems that's keeping him up, he'll just hear Narancia whispering outside his door or Mista throwing pebbles at his window.

► For the first few times the duo did this, Fugo was still able to resist until he just can't anymore knowing that they wouldn't leave him alone all night.

► "Well, this isn't so bad. "

► He says as he enthusiastically tosses a popcorn into his mouth with his eyes glued all over the lit screen of the TV.

► Movie nights, along with sneaking out to go the nearest convenience store, became a common thing between the Torture Dance Trio™ ever since then.

Narancia Ghirga

► The type to wake up in the middle of the night and think "Hmm... Everyone's asleep, let's commit robbery tonight!"

► Fugo's sleep paralysis demon.

► Would literally not hesitate to steal chocolate bars with Mista and probably does 3AM challenges with him too.

► Never runs out of ideas to keep himself up at night and is the one who comes up with everything but what he does still depends on his mood.

► If Narancia's feeling a little too lazy then he'll just sleep and most of the time, with music keeping him accompany. But unlike Abbachio, he purposely doesn't wear headphones just to annoy Fugo whose room is right next to his.

► If he's feeling like it, he'll straight up just invite the others to watch a movie or play videogames even though Bruno has already made it clear not to use the TV after 11PM.

► But just as he likes staying up at night doing crazy things with the boys, he also uses his energy left and free time to self-study, as surprising that may sound.

► He may hate reading but he takes advantage of the fact that his brain is much active at night and he doesn't want to depend on Fugo too much. After all, he dreams on going back to school and he's more than willing to be capable enough to do so alone and pass without the other teen's help.

► Will cuddle anything that's near him while he studies but if you give him a plushie, it'll be instantly his favorite and he would definitely use it as a study buddy.

Guido Mista

► Alright, let's be honest here, this dude wouldn't even stay up if it weren't for his bros.

► 5 seconds lying on the bed and he's already knocked out for a good 10 hours if there's no work he has to do for the day. Make it 8 at weekdays thanks to his mafia-related responsibilities.

► He sleeps like a log so only a combination of shaking him up awake with Fugo and Narancia can make him rise from what seems like a two year coma but is really just a normal tuesday night.

► Will pretty much join Narancia at anything he does but since his last three brain cells are obviously still as half asleep as him, he won't be able to remember that much the next day.

► And once he's out of the room and is already sitting on the couch with the guys, Mista's the type to fall asleep halfway through the movie.

► You can't blame him though, it's 12AM and it seems that Fugo got to choose what movie they'll watch since Narancia already got to choose the other night.

► Unless they're playing videogames or are going out then he won't be acting like a slow ass PVZ zombie with a fried brain. Actually, he'll be hella active if that's the case.

► Active at grabbing every snack each second, that is.

► Actually, it's the pistols who does that but oh well, it's not like Mista's innocent too.

► "I swear it's not me who ate all of our groceries for this month! Right, guys?! It's the pistols! "

► And that, everyone, is how Guido blew their little rendezvous without even trying.

Giorno Giovanna

► There's not much to be said about this boy since just like Mista, Giorno goes to bed early as he makes sure he still gets the proper amount of sleep.

► He already has a lot of things to deal with at day so of course, by the end of it, he'll be exhausted.

► Nights before exams are excluded because although he may seem like he skips class sometimes, Giorno still knows his priorities.

► Only when he became the head of the mafia did he really started to lose sleep as great power comes with great responsibilities.

► It took a LONG time for Giorno to adjust to a lot of things cause come on, he maybe resilient but he's still a 15 year old teen.

► Not only does he have towers after towers of work but i like to imagine that he still continued his education and used some of the things he learns in class in the mafia, specifically in classes like history or geography class since as a boss, he has to know every nook and cranny of Italy.

► Not to mention that emergencies happen and he always has to be ready to give out orders, even if it means being woken up at 1AM.

► God, help this child because all the things mentioned above are just an understatement of what happens on the first few months of being in charge of Passione.

► "So this is why Diavolo looks like he's about to explode whenever something goes wrong huh. "

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traumatictouch · 3 years

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why tomura reads like a sexual abuse survivor

ive noticed that a lot of survivors - including me - easily read tomura as a csa survivor. ive decided to try to put these impressions into words, mostly for myself, but also for anyone curious as to why he’s so frequently read this way, or why i personally write him as such. i will mostly be elaborating on the reoccurring sexual assault imagery and csa survivor traits tomura exhibits.

triggering themes ahead, including discussed child sexual abuse, incest (sibling and pseudo), trauma and its effects, and sexual assault imagery (from the bnha manga itself). also spoilers for the most recent manga arc.

(disclaimer: i realize symptoms of trauma are pretty much common all across the board, and depression also comes with a lot of these behaviors - but there are some that crop up more commonly in cases of sexual abuse (especially from a young age) than in others. csa survivors also frequently end up with depression, too, so that doesn't necessarily take away from it.)

i’ll start with the cover above. the hands touching him here are much more expressive than the ones he usually wears. it's also framed in a way where you can't see the ends/cap things very well, and they don't appear so symmetrical, making them feel much more like real, living hands grabbing him.

there's also the fact that his face is exposed, which is something we had rarely seen him do willingly at this point in the manga, and even when he had he was still covered up with a hoodie or completely alone. the way he's covering half his face gives off the impression that he's not okay with the way he's exposed.

all of that, plus the obvious distress tomura is in, gives this very glaring assault vibes.

also, the hands on his head are clearly someone's actual, living hands as well. my guess is afo, especially since they seem to be petting him, which is reoccurring imagery between tomura and afo.

tomura's total lack of privacy

there's a clear lack of boundaries between tomura and the adults in his life. most of the spaces that seem to belong to tomura (the bar - he feels safe enough there to take Father off, and his room) are accompanied by cameras and audio transmissions from afo. he has no privacy, and doesn't even seem bothered by this fact.

he also doesn't seem to set boundaries with other people in general. toga can hold a knife to his neck, spinner can grab him and yell in his face, the doctor can shout over his earpiece, dabi (or anyone, really) can say whatever rude or callous things he wants to him… really the only time i can think of that even comes close was when mr. compress made a joke about working with overhaul and tomura said "hey, not funny."

he seems to kinda just let whatever happen to him. earlier in the series, tomura seemed to rely on kurogiri to notice when he needed space and step in for him rather than ask for it himself. that's a pretty telltale sign of someone who's had their needs and boundaries violated (or even punished) for a long time.

Tomuras over-attachment to afo and his praise/affection

obviously afo groomed tomura whether it involved sexual abuse or not, but it is something that could have easily lended itself to that as well. early in the series, tomura clearly highly valued afos opinion of him, and seemed to strive to please and repay him for his kindness. these are feelings afo incited in him on purpose and did, canonically, take advantage of to turn tomura into a villain and pawn - who's to say he didn't use it for other purposes, too?

it's also the kind of thing survivors tend to latch onto to cope with their abuse. it can be easier to think of the event as being affection, returning a favor, and/or special treatment, than to think of it as abuse. tomura looked up to afo so much that it's possible he could have considered (or been convinced) that it was special that someone as great as afo wanted to do something so intimate with him.

also, if this is really tomura realizing his sensei isn't as special and powerful as he'd been led to believe, then his reaction being to cover up while looking angry might, well… be a reaction to feeling used.

Tomura & older men

there's not a lot of people besides afo that tomura seems very quickly, openly… invested in. there are two major ones i can think of, and they are both 1. older men, and 2. mentor figures (even if not to tomura.)

the most obvious of the two is aizawa, who tomura has seemed pretty fond of since his first appearance and, even in the most recent chapters, can't seem to help but think about how cool aizawa is. aizawa isn't a mentor to tomura, obviously, but he is a teacher and tomura knows this. (and seems impressed by the way he tries to protect the students in his care--something afo very specifically does not do for tomura.)

the second, and perhaps less obvious to most, is Stain. i wrote up a whole post trying (trying.) to explain the way tomura seemed interested in him, and you can see a bit more about that and how tomura was hoping he'd be a mentor to him here.

in other words, tomura has shown reoccurring interest in older men, who are mentors, that he does not show for anyone else.

early sexual abuse can influence a person's attractions. survivors tend to be drawn to what is familiar, even if it hurt, and so it's pretty common for them to be attracted to and/or desire a relationship with those who resemble their abuser(s).

and afo is an older man who is a mentor to tomura (and others.)

immaturity (& age regression)

tomura, in early canon, is often described by characters in-universe as being childish, especially in regards to how he processes his emotions. (i don't really like to conflate these things with "age" or "being childish" - but the way the manga itself presents these qualities is clearly intended to give tomura a immature/childish vibe.)

tomura's emotional processing, simple motivations, fixation with video games, toys littering his room, and need for close caregiving (kurogiri) all give off the impression that he's had trouble developing the way he "”should”" have--kind of like he didn't really move on at all.

this sort of stunted development tends to occur in people with childhood trauma, especially csa survivors. ptsd at its core is the brain getting "stuck" in the moment of trauma, so if the trauma occurred as a child, then one's development is somewhat halted there, especially in areas of emotional processing, because the brain and body have to dedicate so much energy to just trying to cope and survive. it's pretty common for csa survivors to have trouble coping with and controlling their emotions.

relatedly: i have no real way to confirm this right now, but i’ve heard that during the mla arc, while tomura was kind of going in and out of flashbacks, he started switching to using “boku” - a self pronoun for young boys - as opposed to his usual “ore”). ive since had to wonder if this is a reoccurring state for tomura - it might partly explain why he keeps his toys around despite never showing interest in them on-screen, and has such close supervision from kurogiri.

again, age regression can go for any kind of childhood trauma, but seems very common in child sexual abuse survivors in particular.

Lack of hygiene (esp oral)

look at how tomura's teeth are drawn compared to even another villains. dabis teeth are straight and clean, whereas tomura's have holes and chips, and tend to be drawn uneven with wobbly lines, like they're covered in plaque.

not caring for one's hygiene is common for people with depression too - but failure to care for teeth also frequently crops up in survivors of sexual abuse, due to an aversion to things touching or being inside their mouth, because it can remind them of the abuse.

in a similar vein, tomura's hair looks unwashed and greasy to me, especially when it gets long. it sort of gathers in clumps and appears heavy. survivors may avoid taking showers because they aren't comfortable removing their clothes for long periods of time, or because the abuse occurred in proximity to bathing. (which is a convenient time for parental figures to groom and abuse their children, since it already involves them being naked and the parent touching them closely.)

in general, there just seems to be something off about tomura's relationship with his body. maybe it's the way he barely bats an eye at major injuries, doesn't care for his hygiene, self-injures, and didn't mind undergoing a surgery that altered its shape and function pretty heavily--but i get the impression that tomura sees his body as just a tool more than anything.

which, if someone grew up having their body regarded as nothing but a means of pleasure, kind of makes sense.

his clothing

im not sure if this has the same “connotations” (for lack of a better word) for flat chested people, but tomura always wearing a lowcut shirt that shows off a fair amount of his chest, but covering the rest of himself head to toe--including his face--feels significant to me. as well as the way he covers up even more (his hoodie) when he’s stressed. the hands, too--being covered up seems to be calming for him.

the placement of the hands afo gave him

you can't tell me little tenko placed these hands where they are by himself. the ones on his chest aren’t even from his family or meant to resemble them - they’re additional hands afo gave him to wear. pretty weird place for “afo”’s hands to go...

I feel like theres a little bit something to tomura frequently having his clothes ripped off during fights

not that it's particularly uncommon for bnha characters to get their clothes a bit shredded during fights, but i can't help but feel like there's something to tomura getting torn down to nothing but his pants twice, with both battles heavily involving tomura's traumas, including the ones related to afo. the vs mla arc with how tomura met afo and how he turned him into what he is today, then the war arc where the methods afo used to control and abuse tomura (the hands) are brought back again--and afo repeatedly takes tomura's bodily autonomy away from him.

AFO's predatory behaviors

tomuras own behavior aside, All For One himself has some behaviors and imagery that gives off very predatory vibes. i’ll start with Ragdoll…

most people theorize that she was going to be turned into a nomu, but there are two important things here. ragdoll was found 1. alive, and 2. naked. all nomu are made from corpses - if afo had time to take her quirk and undress her, he certainly had time to kill her, especially since three days had passed since she was kidnapped. (and, what benefit would there be to making a nomu out of a quirkless hero?)

her dazed state is also curious - we've never been told taking or giving quirks has a side effect like this, and i would think itd at least wear off after three days…

there's also not actually a lot to suggest she was submerged in one of the tanks (that i know of); in the full body image, she doesn't seem to be soaking wet or anything. there's no water dripping off her. there's just a bit of liquid on her face and neck, which could merely be sweat, or… other fluids.

this next part is more debatable due to it being more dubiously canon (although My Hero: One’s Justice has been known to basically spoil villain related lore before it appears in the manga) - but he has some dialogue that makes him sound... pretty fuckin enthusiastic about sexual violence.

and time and time again, afo has been... very creepy and obsessive about his brother. who happens to look an awful lot like tomura, and is vaguely connected to nana as a user of OFA, and we know how far afo would go to spite both of them.

The "wow this is pretty much confirmed now" page

i always thought i was just projecting when i read tomura as a csa survivor - until i saw this page, which was so viscerally uncomfortable that it made me nauseous. it definitely made me decide i wasn't just reading into things that weren't there. that's not exactly to say this panel 100% confirmed it (though it certainly did in my mind, personally) -- but the imagery here can't not be deliberate.

tomura is literally shirtless and bent over before afo, and sure, afos not completely standing behind him, but that's partially because his lower half is inside of tomura. and from our previous example of afo taking over tomura's body…

i wish i could find the translation i first saw - this is the viz translation, which is notoriously horrible - but the one i read felt much more along the lines of "i saved you, so i get to do what i want with your body."

that is a line of logic that could have EASILY applied to their earlier relationship. the way afo saved tenko was very much on the forefront of tomura's mind early in the series, possibly either an idea he clung onto to justify the abuse he experienced from afo, or something afo personally reminded him of frequently.

also… part of afos body is definitely wrapped around tomura's upper thigh, and in certain panels seems to be emanating from between his legs.

speaking of, tomura's stance is also notable to me. compared to the panel where tomura first realized afo was taking control of him, where his knees are pretty straight on or outwards in a powerful balanced brace, in these panels his knees seem to be bending in towards his body, like he wants to squeeze his legs shut. huh.

i touched on this before, but it's interesting to me that what finally let afo fully take control of tomura's body, was having a hand (one afo very specifically used to control and abuse tomura into doing what he wanted) placed upon his body without permission.

so, all in all, afo is "inside" tomura's body, using it for his own means, against tomura's wishes.

what else does that sound like? no wonder deku feels like tomura needs help, despite everything...

again, this isn't to say that csa is definitely the cause of these things, just that tomura does have an abundance of behaviors and imagery that could easily be read that way.

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Tenko Shimura #boku no hero academia #all for one #afo bnha #bnha #long post #ITS FINALLY HERE #i did my best i hope it makes sense #csa tw #child abuse tw #meta #ooc

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