Never read the secret tags when I’m tired and need to yell into the void
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It’s Not Always Effortless
Moving this time has taken us more than twice as long as it has in the past. The week prior to moving was really stressful as we were trying really hard to find a place and the market is super crazy right now so that was way harder than we expected or had ever experienced when moving before. So big relief when we did find a place...but then moving has taken a long time still. It’d take me a couple paragraphs to explain why moving has been such a long process and it doesn’t really matter so, I’ll spare you the details but it took basically a week and a half to get fully moved.
Anyway...a week or so lots of stress pre-move, followed up by 9-almost-straight days (we did take one day off) of actually moving in the sense of lifting heavy crap onto a vehicle for one reason or another.
I was physically and emotionally drained, but we only had one day left! That night we got news that a family member had tested positive for COVID, adding more stress. We had planed to do one final day of moving crap, starting early the next morning...but my mental health spiraled and I managed to nap but didn’t really sleep a regular nights sleep.
I was surprised when @cynicaldom said something that made it clear he was still planning for us to finish moving that morning. He knew I hadn’t slept much. I would have rathered push it off a day. He wanted to just get it all over with. I tried not to throw a fit though I still kinda pouted. I did communicate that I was struggling and felt emotionally fragile.
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At this point in my draft writing I pause and say to myself “Wait. What am I trying to say again...?” 🤣
Okay, side-stepping a little so I can loop back around to what I actually wanted to say.
We got through that day. I submitted to us doing another moving day, and it was fine. Well, at the end we tried to take some stuff to our storage unit which was blocked off, so the very last part got delayed yet another day. Very frustrating when we wanted to just have it all over with. Anyway....that morning, once we got started working at it for the day, I was distracted from my crankiness. So it wasn’t even that hard to push through, and I’m glad we got finished earlier rather than delaying it more than was necessary.
Anyway. When we got back home that night I saw something on my Tumblr feed about how if a dom leads well, then a sub will submit effortlessly.
I frequently just take general statements too literally. Most any sentiment that doesn’t clearly leave space for nuance makes my brain focus on the exceptions to the rule...even when I realize it was intended as a general statement. I know I’m just a weirdo. But, I found myself feeling defensive of CD. Because I struggled to submit that morning, and it wasn’t because he wasn’t leading well.
So...although I know I took it too seriously, I still thought it might be worth discussing. There’s nuance involved with D/s in so many ways, and one of those ways is how effortless vs difficult it may be for either person or both people. My opinion is this...
If a sub is frequently struggling to submit, it may well be a sign that the dom isn’t leading well or isn’t earning the subs submission. Maybe the dom is leading in ways that are selfish, impulsive, or don’t meet the subs needs, or just are not well thought out so the sub is resisting submission in a self-protective instinct. You can be a natural follower but find yourself not easily following someone who is leading you into a trap, or who just isn’t carefully deciding the path they’re taking you down, right? 100% makes sense. Submission doesn’t mean you don’t think for yourself.
But I also think it’s natural for subs to sometimes struggle to submit, or at least not effortlessly submit, even when they have lots of trust in their dom, even when their needs are being met by the dynamic, even when the Dom is making a reasonable call. It’s not fair to assume that the Dom is doing something ‘wrong’ simply because the sub is struggling with submission. Especially if the sub is under a lot of stress or is struggling with their mental health or anything like that. Many things unrelated to the dynamic can cause D/s to feel harder for the sub, and those aren’t necessarily anything the Dom has any control over. Even without extra stress or mental health problems, I think it’s natural for submission to just not be effortless sometimes.
Why? Because subs are real people with lots of preferences and opinions, and doms are people with different preferences and opinions. You can think your Dom is absolutely the bee’s knees, but they’re still going to have different opinions or make different decisions than you would make, sometimes. If you’re allowing them to make decisions for you based on their own judgement (rather than expecting them to defer to your views for how they should best lead) then you are likely to occasionally find that you aren’t excited about their decisions, sometimes. You may struggle to accept them at times.
That doesn’t necessarily mean that either of you are wrong. It’s just the reality of having two people with their own ways of thinking, their own preferences, beliefs, etc and letting one have the final say. When living real D/s, there may be times where the dom is making decisions that just don’t have a right or a wrong answer, or there isn’t a ‘right’ way to lead, exactly. Like with CD deciding that we would finish up moving that day rather than wait. There just isn’t a right or a wrong there. And it’s okay that my top preference wasn’t his top preference, and that I struggled a bit with his decision. I don’t think it means anything is ‘wrong’ with either of us. I think it’s just part of real life D/s.
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the future is bright (with you, my dear) - spencer reid x reader
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Mentions of death, serial killers, the general criminal minds stuff but nothing graphic
A/N: Okay, so, confession: this is very self-indulgent! I’m not very well, but desperately wanted to get something out to you so I’m sorry if the quality isn’t up to scratch! But I just wanted to write something super fluffy and comforting that could just wrap me up in a nice soft blanket. Hope you enjoy! :)
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(ways to say i love you) number 16 = “it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyway”
The ticking of the clock in the hotel room was unrelenting. It wormed its way into your brain and stayed there, until you were hearing it echoing in your head and you didn’t even know whether it was real anymore. Eventually, after minutes, hours, you didn’t know, you huffed as you got out of bed and took the clock off the wall, taking it into the bathroom and putting it in the tub.
When you returned to bed and you could still hear it, it was only a few minutes before you returned to the bathroom and took the batteries out. You threw them in the tub angrily and practically stomped back into your bed like a child might.
The case was slow. Agonisingly so. You’d been here for days and yet you still felt no closer to catching the unsub than you were when you began, despite having three more dead bodies left in the woods since then. Some of you were tired, some of you were cranky and some of you were just pissed off. You found yourself a mixture of all three.
It was all swirling around in your mind, and you could swear you could still hear that damn ticking, so you only heard the knocking the third time it happened and a soft utterance of your name accompanied it. You recognised the voice, and it was the only thing that had you hopping out of bed, grabbing your long cardigan from the peg and wrapping it around yourself, only wearing a tank top and shorts in the hot climate.
When you opened the door, Spencer was already halfway down the corridor.
“Spence,” you hissed, watching him wince and turn around, “Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry, Y/N, did I wake you?” he whispered and you smiled as you shook your head, beckoning him into your room so you could talk properly. Rossi, who was currently in the pissed off stage of the case, would only come out of the room and glare at the two of you if you stayed in the corridor any longer.
Instead, he followed you inside, still murmuring his apologies even after you’d sat him down on the end of the bed next to you. You crossed your legs on the bed and wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself against the chill of the cheap hotel.
“Spencer, seriously,” you said, resting a hand on his forearm to stop his mumbled rambling, “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
He paused at that and tilted his head in that adorable manner he sometimes did.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just can’t sleep. This case is…”
You trailed off but he nodded. He understood. He always did. People thought he didn’t always understand people, didn’t always pick up on things but in your experience? He picked up on your cues before anyone else, understood you better than anyone else. Best friends ever since you’d joined the BAU together, inseparable on and off cases: if there was anyone you wanted at your door when you couldn’t sleep, it was Spence.
“I know,” he said sympathetically, placing a hand over yours on his arm. He glanced behind him and looked back to you, a newly amused smile on his face, “Where’s your clock?”
You bit your the inside of your cheek.
“Never had one,” you lied, unconvincingly. It wasn’t your best work.
“All the rooms have one, Y/N,” he said, eyebrows raised as he stared at you. You muttered your answer incoherently, “What was that?”
‘It’s in the bath, okay?” you said exasperatedly, pouting, “That stupid ticking was driving me to distraction.”
He chuckled at you, shaking his head fondly.
“Of course it’s in the bath.”
“Anyway,” you said pointedly, “What are you doing awake? And here?”
His gaze was cast downward almost immediately, and you frowned. You squeezed his arm a little, because you were still holding onto it. You didn’t have the heart to let go, but luckily neither did he. It was nice to have a bit of human contact amongst all the human misery you saw day to day.
“I don’t know,” he said weakly, shrugging his shoulders, “I was just lying there staring at the ceiling and...well, I had a feeling you might be too.”
Now he was lying to you, but he was seriously trying to. It was a serious lie. Your frown only got worse, the lines of your face deepening. Now you did have the heart to, so you removed your hand from his arm and leaned back away from him.
“Spencer, why are you really here?” you said, the room changing all at once, but you added with soft eyes, “You never have to lie to me, you know?”
He was biting his lip and you just wanted to reach up and and pull it away from his teeth, run your fingers gently over his jawline, smooth out all the worry lines he’d gained since you met him. Sometimes, you wished he hadn’t seen everything he had seen, wished you could save him from it all. But sometimes, you also wished you could kiss him. Some things weren’t meant to be.
“I know,” he said guiltily, “Sorry. It’s stupid, though, and I don’t want you to think I can’t handle the case or that I’m not thinking clearly or-”
“I can guarantee that whatever your reason for knocking on my door, I’m not going to think anything like that. Ever, Spence.”
He looked at you with a look in his eye that you recognised as love. You knew it to be the completely platonic kind, but it made butterflies stir up a frenzy in your stomach regardless.
Ironically, platonic friendship was one of the furthest things from Spencer’s mind in that moment, but there was no way for you to know that.
“Okay,” he relented, “You know how me and Rossi went to the crime scene today? Well, when we pulled the sheet back from Shelly Peterson’s body there was a moment...well, it was such a stupid moment because I knew you were back at the station and we’d spoken on the phone not five minutes prior but-”
You sighed gently.
“She looked like me?” you interjected, nothing but kindness in your tone, none of the teasing he might have worried about or the wrinkled nose at the stupidity of his thoughts. None of that.
“She did,” there were tears gathering in his eyes and you had to will yourself not to cry right along with him, “A-and I just...I haven’t really seen you since because we were working on separate parts of the profile so I couldn’t sleep until I-”
He wasn’t finishing his sentences. It wasn’t unlike him sometimes, when he was a little shaken up, but it still worried you each and every time. You were so used to him being eloquent, beautifully so, speaking at a hundred miles an hour but still making more sense than people who spoke ten times slower. When he lost the ability to speak fully coherently, you knew he was really fighting an mental battle.
“Until you came and saw me?” you finished for him again, knowing he wouldn’t mind. They were words he couldn’t bring himself to say, but also ones that he needed you to know. You would happily say them for him if necessary, “Spencer, that’s not stupid.”
You had noticed your resemblance to the victim earlier that day too, but hadn’t said anything. JJ had given you a look but you’d brushed her off quickly, not wanting to draw attention to it in front of the team. They must have noticed too, it was hard not to, but nobody said anything. It went unspoken. For you, though, it had only been in pictures and you could imagine you might have reacted a little differently had you actually been at the scene like Spence.
“It felt stupid,” he said quietly, “I think Rossi thought I was losing it. I just kept...staring at her. And I knew she was Shelly Peterson, of course I did, but it felt like I was staring right at your dead body. Y/N, I don’t think I can ever do that for real. No, actually, I know I could never do that, I’m not capable, I think- I think it would kill me.”
His words were chilling. His voice got louder as he started finishing his sentences again. It was as if he was so determined never to have that nightmare become reality that he had to tell you now, he had to tell you right this second that there was no scenario in which you were allowed to die.
“Well, that’s okay,” you said confidently, not being able to help yourself when you reached up and took his chin between your thumb and forefinger, begging him to make eye contact with you, “Because I’m not going anywhere, Dr Reid, and neither are you. You’re not allowed to. I won’t have it.”
“But-”
“Nope,” you stopped him, because his thoughts were consuming him and you desperately wanted to bring him back to you, to this moment, here in the hotel room where the two of you were safe. Where the two of you were together. “Creating geographical profiles side by side, that’s how we’re going to live out the rest of our days. We’re going to go to crime scenes and trade theories away from the group if we’re not sure about them. We’re going to force each other to get a few hours sleep on the jet whenever we can.”
“Yeah?” his voice was still timid, but now it sounded like he was simply getting more overwhelmed with every sentence you spoke. You swallowed the sentimental lump in your throat and continued on, reluctantly letting go of his chin now that he’d dared to look at you.
“Yeah. We’re going to spend weekends together. In the park. At my apartment, at your apartment. We’re going to sit at our desks across from each other in the bullpen every day. Chat as we do paperwork. Get each other coffee. Eventually, I’m going to learn that however much sugar I put in will never be enough.”
“Would be great if you learnt that sooner rather than later,” he joked with a chuckle, even though there were more tears in his eyes. You swatted his arm playfully, your own choked laughter filling the small room.
“We’re going to be as old as Rossi one day, with a few grey hairs, and there will be new FBI recruits that ask each other in hushed voices, ‘Is that Doctor Reid and Agent Y/L/N? I’ve read all of their books!’ and we’ll sign a few of them if they’re lucky,” you explained, feeling a few tears of your own surfacing as you imagined Spencer with grey hairs around his temple.
You could picture him, years in the future, walking over to you on the jet and sitting down with that small groan that Rossi let out quite often when he sat down, a customary groan that slightly older people seem to do even if nothing hurts and nothing is stiff. Spencer would groan as he sat down and you would laugh at him, tease him for being too old for all this now, and he’d remind you of this very moment.
“We’re going to co-write books?” he said dreamily and you knew he was picturing scenario after scenario of your future now too. You hoped it might get the image of your dead body out of his mind, at least for a while, replace it with images of you laughing at his ridiculous philosophical jokes just because he thought they were funny.
“We are indeed,” you hummed happily.
“How do you make our job sound so...romantic?”
You hadn’t expected that, but you tried not to let it show on your face. Instead you just furrowed your brows in confusion and hoped he didn’t see the fear in your eyes at the prospect of being found out.
“Romantic?”
“Yeah,” he said, seemingly unfazed by what he was saying, “We have one of the worst jobs in the world, see more evil than most people will ever even hear about, but you make it sound like we’re going to live out this...romantic ideal.”
You took a deep breath.
“Our job is awful...basically all the time, I know. But I suppose, on the occasion that it isn’t awful, it’s usually either because we save someone or because- well, because you’re around.”
Spencer paused, staring at you and your gaze drifted down to his lips before snapping back upwards again. He saw that. Definitely. Your tone had changed, but he was the one who had mentioned romance, so you were only following his lead, you told yourself.
Was he closer than he had been a second ago? Your mind was playing tricks on you. When he spoke, his voice was breathy and barely there.
“Sounds pretty r-romantic to me.”
You held your breath.
“Is that a good thing?”
Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.
“I think you missed some stuff out of our future,” he said and all you could think was that he hadn’t said no, not yet, and that if he was about to let you down gently then you weren’t sure you would cope, “I know we’re going to work together for the rest of our lives. Create profiles and catch killers and write books. But I’m also...I’m also going to love you for the rest of our lives. Do you think we could fit that in?”
You exhaled slowly, just so he wouldn’t hear how shaky it was. Your grin was infectious, clearly, because he was grinning too, you could see it through tear-blurred vision. You wouldn’t answer his question directly, he hadn’t answered yours after all, but you spoke up quickly to make sure he had no doubt about your answer.
“We could...go on coffee dates?”
“Movie marathons under mountains of blankets?”
“Kissing in the rain?”
“Kissing under the stars.”
“Kissing everywhere.”
“Moving in together?”
“Getting a dog? A cat?”
“Getting down on one knee?”
Voices growing softer and softer, the questions soon melted away into the dim glow of the hotel room and the future felt closer than it ever had before as you shared your first kiss.
(and your second, and your third, and your…)
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tags: @justkurotingz @yes-sir-hotchner
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For the director's cut, what about Cranky-rishima? That's one of my favourite kiribaku pieces!
Aaa thank you!!
SO!!
Cranky-rishima was the first fanfic I wrote!! I’d just sort of started to read fanfic again (after a bit of a hiatus from general fandomness. i was between hyperfixations) and I think it was 2am Knows All Secrets especially that served as inspiration.
I thought to myself ‘hey I really like this genre of fic where Bakugou has nightmares & Kirishima comforts him and they experience extreme bed-sharing trope’.
And then I thought to myself ‘okay but what if it was Kirishima having nightmares?’ And it all spiralled from there! I’ll keep going after the break, I Rambled
(I still try to keep up that attitude to look for fun fic concepts - take in the popular situations, and flip who they’re happening to. It can result in stories that feel a little fresher, I guess?)
It’s kinda weird ‘cause like... my understanding of the characters has shifted since writing Cranky-rishima due to like, more content of them coming out & giving them more facets, and given all of that I think I’d write it differently if I wrote it now... But I still really like it! I enjoyed writing it and it gives me Happy Feelings if I go back to reread it ‘cause like !! I get those good I Made This serotonins.
I think the first scene I actually wrote for Cranky-rishima was the fight! I don’t know why, exactly, but I just wanted to see more Kirishima As A Human Person Who Can And Will Get Angry stuff vs the Unrelenting Sunshine thing, haha. (And I still do.) So the fic was kinda built around the lead up to the fight, and then the aftermath and results of it moving forward.
I remember dithering at first over whether to use ‘Bakugou’ or ‘Katsuki’ for the character voice, and started writing with Bakugou - but I remember changing my mind & going back through to edit them into Katsuki. I’m glad I did! It feels much more organic to have the characters refer to themselves by their given names in the 3rd person limited POV I like to write from!
Having Bakugou as the POV character was barely a choice - I wanted the true cause of Kiri’s sleeplessness to be mysterious at first, and it’s hard to keep details from the audience if the POV character is experiencing them!
I wasn’t sure that I could pull off his voice at first, but then it just sort of CLICKED, and I know exactly the point where:
Thursday, and Kirishima usually came for a tutoring session after classes. Katsuki was feeling jittery all through the lessons that morning. Fucking anticipation was doing, like, a jig on his nerves or some shit, and he really really wanted to blow something the fuck up. His palms crackled, and at one point Present Mic raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat at him from behind his stupid glasses.
The JIG! That was the MOMENT I knew I had Bakugou down the way I wanted, the dramatic little bastard. Now he’s still my absolute favourite to write.
Oh! Another thing I wanted to do with Cranky-rishima was portray the nightmares differently to how I’ve read them in most fics... Because most fics I read that include nightmares tend to do the whole ‘Character Panics Because They Don’t Recognise Reality’ thing. Which. Has its dramatic moments for sure, but it wasn’t nightmares like I knew nightmares.
I wanted to write like... Like Kirishima had Nightmare Disorder and didn’t know what to do about it! So I did!
Nightmare Disorder is something I used to suffer from as a kid. I think I sort of still have it? But these days I don’t tend to get distressed by what happens when I dream so they don’t really cause many problems or cause me to wake up.
They’re like... the level of stuff that tends to happen would be in line with a 15-rated film? Sometimes an 18. But I can handle the odd bit of dream gore/fleeing from monsters/etc now, lmao. It can even be fun sometimes, in the way that rollercoasters are fun - a lil taste of adrenaline, even if I’m asleep. And anything truly bizarre can be recalled and shared and even serve as inspiration for things! Like Cranky-rishima itself
But, when I was younger and they were scary, they weren’t really anything like the nightmares I keep seeing in fics!
If I woke up from one of my nightmares, I’d be perfectly lucid. No flailing around not knowing where I was - that’s something else entirely.
I’d know it was a nightmare that happened - and I’d also remember it incredibly clearly! Sometimes TOO clearly! That was the issue with them! They haunt you even if you’re awake and in the bright of day...
And then you can’t get back to sleep because you’re thinking about the nightmare, and because you’re thinking about the nightmare your brain queues it up for Subconscious Digestion which just means you have the nightmare again, and again, and again, until it’s there in your head and will be there FOREVER no matter what you do.
And you can defeat the dreams - if you change them by running through the way they play out and shifting it when you’re awake, if they don’t end with you jolting awake in a cold sweat with the images flashing in your head in a swirl of too-bright colours and impossible clarity - but they are replaced, and sometimes the old ones sneak back in a new skin because the core of them hasn’t really gone away.
It’s almost always that I’m being hunted by something.
And I used that as a basis for what Kirishima was going for - ‘write what you know’ works, lmao!
...Hey on that note...
I’m planning on a third part to Cranky-rishima, set after Doubt, in the future where Class A are now pro-heroes. I want it to be a class reunion or something, I think? And I plan to set a villain on them... And we’ll get to see exactly what Kirishima’s nightmares are really like.
As well as everyone else’s.
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We saw a new lactation consultant today. I’m still feeling really stressed and anxious about the situation, but at least we have a plan to try. I’m skeptical of some parts of it but she seems like she will really keep working with us to try to figure this out and be receptive to feedback if it doesn’t. Idk it’s just really hard not to feel anxious about whether my baby is getting enough to eat/if I’m going to be able to get any sleep/if he’s uncomfortable etc.
Unrelated to the primary problem we’re dealing with right now (the distractibility), she did identify a potential cause of why he takes so long to eat even normally, which is that he’s sort of chomping instead of creating a vacuum when he sucks, and she thinks it’s because he may have low muscle tone in the area. In retrospect, thinking about how he sucks on my finger when I put it in his mouth, I can see that. This is something we may be able to get services to work on because it could later also affect his speech if not corrected. She theorizes that he’s only been getting enough milk this way because I have a lot of it so he doesn’t have to be extremely efficient to get his fill. It’s interesting though because he generally takes 45-60 minutes to eat (which includes a diaper change in between sides to wake him up, but that doesn’t take long), but she weighed him today and he ate 1.7 ounces in about 10 minutes, so there’s no way he’s going at that rate the whole feed, but... Like ugh if he could keep that rate up, he’d actually take a normal amount of time.
Anyways, personality-wise I like her a LOT more than the other one so I’m very happy we branched out. The other person we saw is very rigid, she has this very specific idea of how nursing is supposed to be and sees her job as getting your baby there. You must have this very precise posture and use this very precise positioning and the baby should ultimately take this very precise amount of time to eat, etc. This one is more focused on finding what works and is comfortable for you and your baby.
I’ve learned a valuable lesson from this experience, which is that just because a lot of people seem to like a provider (of any type really) and have success with them doesn’t mean that they are the objective be-all and end-all of their field, and it’s important to feel comfortable with whoever you work with, and it’s ok not to feel comfortable with the person everyone else seems to like. I wish that I had branched out sooner instead of avoiding addressing some of these lesser issues until now because I didn’t want to go back to the first lactation consultant and yet felt like she was the only person I could go to because she was the Best.
Summary of his whole nursing situation under the cut since I keep referring to it
-When he was first born he got a bit dehydrated because I didn’t realize I had flat nipples and he wasn’t getting enough milk. We supplemented by finger-feeding him formula for a few days until he was in better shape.
-Since then I’ve used a nipple shield. The intention of the first lactation consultant was to stop using it eventually, but she made not using it so intimidating that I ended up not really wanting to try since it seemed it was working for us, although a bit annoying.
-However then I was having issues with milk leaking out the bottom of the shield (have to put a washcloth underneath it’s so much) and my friend who sent me to the lactation consultant convinced me to go back. She then told me it was because I had too much milk coming out too fast and I should only nurse him on one side at each session and press to stop the milk on the other side. I tried this exactly once, in her office, and rejected it after the “stopped” side ended up leaking through literally 6 layers of fabric as a result.
-(hence I can’t “just learn to nurse lying down” like so many obnoxious people who don’t know the situation have suggested, because the shield won’t always stay in place without me holding it, and even when it does, milk is going everywhere and I don’t want that happening in my bed)
-He took about half an hour to eat when he was first born but the time soon extended and now it’s 45 min to an hour typically, which is incredibly draining because he generally goes 2-3 hours between nursing. I have been literally basically nursing him the equivalent of a full time job.
-Then more recently he’s gotten really distracted, usually on the 2nd side but sometimes also the first, and won’t finish eating until an extensive amount of time has passed and/or he’s given a bottle; he also won’t fall asleep and gets cranky if he DOESN’T finish eating, so it’s not that he’s just full.
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Poof (safe/soft platonic gt vore fluff)
A (mini) Tale of the Mystic Woods
A short story featuring the Half-Giant Wizard Yonah and his student the Princess Sophia! Both are my OCs and they are both adults!
Content Warnings: bit of a silly em-eto (ish) moment. not any real vomit tho.
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Knuckles white, Sophia dug her nails into Yonah’s fingers as he readjusted his position for what felt like the 100th time in the last 20 minutes. This time he had gone from laying on his stomach to laying on his back. Sophia wasn’t worried he was going to drop her, He had picked up Her up from the crook of his arm in a secure grip. And even if he did, she would merely fall onto the soft bed. But instinct screamed at her nerves that she was very high up! Hold tight!
The day had been a busy one. Not a necessarily a bad one. Just. Busy.
First, patrolling the woods had taken twice as long. The King had Yonah investigate several disturbances of some sort. For one thing they had to coordinate the forest shifting locations to within Yonah’s limited range of movement. For another thing, brought near “enough” didn’t necessarily mean appearing just past the next tree. Sometimes it meant a few kilometers back the way they came.
And then there was the “disturbances” themselves. Sophia couldn’t understand why they had to deal with trees complaining of itchy roots. Or deliver rations to a gnome community that had their farms ravaged by an unfortunate number of gophers. Or track down the missing foals for a herd of moon-dancing deer.
Turns out there was a poacher! And he had not just taken a few foals from one herd. But taken all the foals from what was now three herds. This wasn’t some random hunter.
At least that was fun. Tracking him down. It wasn’t fun to discover the fate of the first two groups of foals he had taken. But they managed to save the third.
The fun part was dealing with the poacher himself.
He got a nice little time out in Yonah’s gut before being handed over to a ranger who had been following them. He was lucky the ranger intervened as Yonah and Sophia had been deliberating on Whether or not to kill the bastard for his crimes against the forest. And culling Moon-dance Foals was not one that deserve mercy. They had gone back and forth dramatically about if he deserved it, and how much Yonah wanted to eat him, if Yonah was ok with allowing scum like him inside his body. All while the poacher was on the edge of fainting until the ranger showed up and decided for them.
The ranger did not enjoy watching The Giant Wizard swallow the poacher alive, even knowing he was gonna be brought back up before he died. But Sophia loved watching the ranger squirm in their armor as Yonah, with wicked glee, enjoyed his snack.
Anyways. All These things were all unrelated as far as Sophia could tell, but the way Ben talked about them made them sound connected! Also none seemed worth the hassle of moving the forest just so she and Yonah could deal with these problems. She liked helping but this all seemed like Mystic Ranger work! in fact a ranger DID show up! But they’d done the bulk of the work .
And once they returned home Yonah had her attempt a rather involved potion.
Maintaining delicate alchemical balances, recalling the proper spell verses while imbuing the proper words and materials with magic, and keeping track of temperature and time, all at once, has never been Sophia’s strong suit. It wasn’t anyone’s strong suit really. Potion making was one of the most difficult of the arcane sciences.
It had been extremely stressful. Sophia barely avoided a magical-metldown a few times. What frustrated her most was Yonah refused to tell her what the potion was for! And she since she failed to make it she still didn’t know.
It left the pair exhausted and so they unanimously decided to turn in early.
Now she lay on his chest; a hand acting as a blanket. She loved this spot and imagined this was what it felt like to lay on a whale as it rested at sea. Rising and falling with wave like breaths. Drifting along the current and off to sleep.
Several feet beneath her beat the giant’s heart, like a wrongly entombed person frantically trying to get someone, anyone’s attention.
Hold on.
She opened her eyes and looked to Yonah’s face. He was staring at the ceiling.
“Dude is everything alright?”
Rising quickly, the surface she lay on rumbled as Yonah exhaled a wordless portamento.
“Worried about your lecture on Wednesday*? It’s gonna be fine, it’s not like you haven’t done this dozens of times! I thought you liked teaching?” (*Note: I haven’t come up with fantasy names for the days of the week!!! Weeks are also 8 days!!)
This time after taking an even bigger breath and placing his hands over his face, he spoke.
“I do like it! I do. But I still have to be cuffed. Which sucks 7 foot flying blue ass.”
“It’s only for two days right? And they only make you shrink while in the school buildings. You’ve handled worse.” she thought some reassuring praise might help but it didn’t work.
“Says the not-magical being who has never been cuffed” he sat up, catching Sophia as she slid down his chest.
She was about to apologize when hot air blew around her and Yonah took another breath.
“It’s not really that. Not completely. It’s… Being there... chained up like that.” She knew what he meant. As the chains drained him magic and life force he looked like he could snap at any moment, just barley held in check by the Enchanted cuffs.
“I look like a fucking criminal! Or Like a semi-tamed magical beast from the King’s menagerie all dressed up and told to put on a show! It’s humiliating!”
“My father doesn’t have-“ but Yonah glared at her. He continued.
“I can barely look at these new students, and when I do it’s either met with fear or dismissal. The fear is ok. I’d rather they like me, they have in the past! But young wizards need to be more scared of things, just in general.”
“It’s the dismissal which is infuriating. As if I’m some sort of monster, and so the words out of my mouth are worthless!”
The smell of a dying campfire started to reach Sophia’s nose.
“Especially since it’s no small expense to bring you there. Just the paperwork alone!” she remarked.
“EXACTLY!” he nodded, the smell did not go away, “Not to mention there are those professors that do not hide their disdain for me. I think they have been priming the students before I arrive. Motherfuckers! Most of them still think I shouldn’t have been allowed to graduate and become a wizard and why!?”
He did not let Sophia ask ‘why?’ as his eyes flared up with fire.
“Because I’m half-firewitch!” crackling and spewing smoke, the roots of his hair became glowing coals.
“They think that made it easier for me! And since I didn’t work as hard I can’t possibly understand magic as deeply as a “proper” wizard! As if there aren’t students with fey ancestry to whom magic comes easier! But are they accused of cheating? Does anyone think they can’t be wizards?! No! They are congratulated for being blessed with magical talent!”
Fuming he drew breath, “and I worked just as hard as any-“
“You should eat them,” Sophia suggested and Yonah froze in his tirade. Through the fire Sophia could tell he was looking down at her, sitting calmly in his hand, as he processed her remark.
Then he smiled. Then he laughed. His eyes and hair extinguishing. The burning aura of Yonah’s anger faded as he lay back down. Sophia sitting on his chest once more, letting Yonah stroke her gently. Even without looking he could deftly massage her with delicate rubs and pinches. It was nice.
A bubbling, gurgling came from just behind Sophia and Yonah lifted his head. He had a small guilty smile and his face a bit flushed.
“Ah” Sophia said with a raised eyebrow, “No wonder you’re cranky.”
“No- I’m cranky for the reasons I already said. And I’m a firewitch, so I’m always cranky! But... I am a little hungry too.”
Rolling her eyes Sophia stood up and walked to his face. Yonah gave her a toothy grin as she leaned on his nose. Then he stuck his tongue out and licked her midsection, pulling a bit at her nightgown.
She rolled her eyes again, giggling as Yonah’s tongue continued to tickle her side.
“Fine, you stupid glutton. It can be one of those nights.”
Sliding off his nose she fell onto his tongue which hung over his lips, and let him draw her into his mouth.
He didn’t swallow her right away. Right now he licked at the princess. Sliding his tongue greedily And friendily over her bare arms. Even if clothing didn’t block the flavor of smallfolk that much, exposed skin still tasted the best! And so sensitive was his tongue that he would tell she was smiling as he drew it across her face. That and she chuckled.
And she reciprocated by running her hands all over his mouth, spreading her flavor all around! Mostly focusing on his tongue since that was what tasted her, but also pushed out against his cheeks with palms and elbows. He would put a finger to them to push back.
Her torso was very quickly soaked in drool. Yonah certainly liked the taste of human. And as many times as he’d eaten her, he didn’t seem to get bored with her flavor. Not even a little.
But eventually his stomach grumbled again. Jealous that his mouth was getting all of Sophia’s attention. And he sat up, tipped his head back, and gently swallowed as the body slid to the back of his throat.
As her feet slipped past his collar with a mighty *GULP*, her outstretched arms entered his stomach. Soon followed by the rest of her. And he lay down, pulling up a blanket but keeping a hand over his stomach to rub at his occupant. Sophia may be a small human but she managed to be very filling. He licked his lips of the lingering flavor. Letting her movements lull him a bit.
Oh she was always such a great treat! And healthier than getting a snack he could actually digest-
Eyes wide and hand pressed into his gut he snapped out of his stupor. Now his heart really threatened to burst from his chest.
“SOPHIA!” He hissed, sitting up “YOUR CURSE!”
There was a small amount of movement from under his hand.
“Oh! You finally noticed?” her voice full of mischief.
That was… not the reaction he had expected. If she noticed he had forgotten… then…
“OH NO! Don’t you fucking dare!! I’m just gonna spit you up then we can-“
But it was too late. She was moving again and he heard her speak the couplet.
‘Bloated’ would be an understatement for what he felt as his middle swelled painfully before he leaned over and purple dust spewed out of his mouth and nose like water from a fire hydrant.
As he vomited lavender sparkles he could hear Sophia losing her mind, the lighting laughter cutting through the thunder in his ears.
A few gulps of air was all he managed between expulsions until the font of glitter turned into puffs accompanied by small burps. He clutched at his highly active midsection containing the cackling princess as he lay back down. Purple clouds tricking out of his mouth.
“See, no need to worry!” came Sophia’s singsong voice from his sore gut.
All he managed to say was a long “oog” before l he hiccuped And burped again, another large poof of smoke coming up.
There wasn’t anything he could do besides stare at his ceiling. If there was anything up there he couldn’t see it; he didn’t have his glasses on. Still, he managed to reach at his night stand and flip the alarm clock.
*hic* glitter…
*hic!* more glitter
*HIC!* still more glitter!!
“Did you *HIC!* ARGH!” He couldn’t get his breath back for a complete sentences “do thi- *HIC!* on purpo*HIC*” fucking hell! How much sparkling dust was still inside him?!
It was very fortunate that Sophia did not have to breathe as glass, for she certainly would have suffocated on the same purple sparkling dust that Yonah was currently expelling from his body. The massive amount of dust produced by the activation of her curse.
Which is why she had hoped to get him to eat her without casting it. He was so good at remembering but tonight he was tired, and she had helped by giving him the signal to swallow without first removing herself from his mouth.
She was also fortunate that the momentary increased pressure did nothing to her solid Glass body. Had she still been made of flesh… who knows! But it wouldn’t have been good!
The air in Yonah’s stomach was still saturated with glitter but it didn’t bother Sophia one iota! I would eventually disappear. It was just a magical manifestation after all. It would still be several more minutes.
She kneaded her surroundings like a cat and got a great big sigh in response. A vibrating moan echoed around her as she stroked and pushed at the soft flesh. And then she was jolted by another hiccup.
“You’re a little shi- *HIC*” more giggles from his middle. And glitter.
“Just go to sleep,” Sophia cooed And her surroundings squished even more.
Yonah just groaned and and put and arm around his stomach, pressing on the solid mass of Sophia. The stroking did feel very nice. He closed his eyes.
Eventually his stomach and diaphragm calmed down. Helped by Sophia’s massaging. Soon the rubbing, and his general fullness, lulled him to sleep.
The frantic pulse finally slowed around her as her friend drifted off to dreamland, happy and content with her filling and petting his belly. and it reciprocated by squishing her, the muscles shoving her in a rolling motion, the pulse adding another layer to the rhythm of Yonah’s body. Again it was like she was in a hammock in a boat in the open ocean. Well less in the boat and more hanging off of it, as she sat in warm fluids.
She knew the stomach was doing it’s best to soften her up, break her down, and move her along in the giant’s digestive tract. But it was a futile attempt.
And thus warm and safe, Sophia was rocked to sleep with the now gently thundering beat of the heart above her.
[FIN]
[Thanks for reading! IF YOU LIKE THIS PLEASE REBLOG! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/+mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]
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I know what you like from Dick (your post are really extensive and detailed, which is great because I love seeing people talk about what they’re passionate about) but is there any type of arc, friend expansion or themes you’d like to see with other robins like Damian or Jason?
Jason, definitely. I actually talk a lot about possibilities for him unrelated to things involving Dick - I’ve got lots of thoughts and feelings about what if he’d had a bigger support system when he was a teen, and how that could have led away from his inevitable death. Like how there was always that age group of YJ and Titans members who were just a couple of years older than Tim so never quite meshed with his YJ crew, but not as old as Dick and his friends....the Ray, Damage, Anima, etc. Like there’s more than enough there for Jason’s own Titans lineup of in-betweeners. I also have a lot of thoughts about Jason and Damage being potential BFFs, and also the idea of Jason dating Tom Bronson aka Tomcat, the werepanther son of Wildcat, Ted Grant.
And post death and return, I think Jason, Obsidian and Damage could make a great trio of misunderstood (and horrifically misused by DC) friends who’ve been through hell and back and toe the line between hero and anti-hero, but often not even so much because of their own choices but because of how they’re inevitably perceived due to things outside their own actions (like Obsidian often assumed the worst of because people are afraid of his shadow powers, and Damage has a long history of being demonized for the destructive nature of his powers by people in universe, etc).
So like, I definitely have those posts, I just suck at tagging....like search my blog on mobile for those characters’ names and posts with them should come up fairly easily.
My thoughts on expansion for Damian at the moment are currently consumed by GIVE HIM BACK HIS FRIENDS DC, WTF, FIRST COLIN, THEN MAYA, NOW JON, WHY WON’T YOU LET HIM KEEP ANY OF HIS FRIENDS EVER.
And with Tim they’re mostly like.....give Young Justice to anyone but Bendis, who I can’t stand, lol, but otherwise I’d be interested. Like, I know ppl don’t believe me lol but I genuinely don’t inherently dislike Tim, as long as he’s not being written as what I perceive to be at Dick’s expense, like, people getting pissed at Dick on Tim’s behalf for something that I will always maintain was not as cut and dried as people make it. But like, separate of stuff like that....I loved the YJ book from the nineties and was a big fan and so I’m actually really glad to have all of those characters back and reunited, its basically what I would have wanted and done with them myself all along, its just....Bendis. Why. Stop.
Also, Tim’s new superhero name will never not be the dumbest thing ever, there are SO MANY CHOICES you could go with instead and you have him like...Fail at Secret Identities AND Striking Fear Into The Heart Of His Enemies all at the same time. Good plan.
Like, when you need your hero to stop and explain to the bad guys that no, actually, his namesake is actually a pretty bad-ass bird in real life, honest, like...that’s not good. I don’t know who said that was good but like. They lied.
Cass and Duke, I just need more of together. Them in Batman & The Outsiders is again, actually a canon thing I really enjoy, even though the insistence on Cass’ broken English can go die in a fire any day now, seriously. But I love the two of them together and think they’re such an underrated dynamic and they play off each other well, and I would love to see them explore the hidden aspects of both their backgrounds together....like there’s still so much Cass doesn’t know about Lady Shiva and her intentions for Cass like what she even wants from her, and literally everything Duke learned about/from Gnomon in Batman & The Signal needs following up on STAT, even if its just to say Gnomon was full of shit and Duke should not listen to him about anything.
I also have some older posts about the possibilities of tying Duke’s powers and his family tree into the emotional entity of hope that empowers the Blue Lantern Corps, like the same way Jade - Alan Scott’s daughter - is connected to the green lantern energy and powers without actually needing to be one herself. Like, some of that meta needs tweaking because later stories I read with Duke made certain things about that not work, but like...there’s stuff there that I still would love to see played with even if just in fic, because I love the Lantern CONCEPT as a whole, and also I’m really really in love with the idea of one of Duke’s direct ancestors having maybe been an avatar of hope at some point like Kyle was for Ion, and Duke’s powers were derived from that....like we know his mom Elaine had some kind of powers as well, with the implication IMO being that they were light connected, and that’s why Gnomon was fixated on her in the first place, even if he’s lying about being Duke’s biological father....anyway, like I said, there’s definitely stuff about that lurking around my blog, I just....desperately need to get better about tagging, but also I say that a lot and then it never happens. LOL. Like I’m great at remembering to tag for trigger warnings, but tagging for organizational purposes? My brain’s like lol why would we ever do that.
But yeah, I for sure have lots of thoughts and ideas for all the family members at various times, but there’s not a whole lot of rhyme or reason to when they pop into my head or when I shift to one in specific....just that inevitably, I always shift back to being Dick Grayson hour, lol. I even have some broader Batfam/franchise posts like.....there’s one I wrote about how I’d give other Rogues than the Joker a derivative character or sidekick, like Mister Freeze, the Riddler and Poison Ivy (I think I named them Kid Chill/Tundra, the Memetic and Hemlock).
And there’s one I keep meaning to revisit about how I’d love to see the Batfamily go up against...a whole rival family, like if a branch of the Falcones returned to Gotham to try and retake power in secret, and they had a matriarch kinda like how Bruce is the patriarch of the Batfam, and then various kids and cousins to act as foils for the Batkids. Like a hacker named Smokescreen to work on hiding their activities from Oracle’s eyes, or a rival to Jason called Red Herring who like, pits the family against each other by framing crimes on various members of the family and testing their trust in each other.
Stuff like that. So I’m not a totally one track mind. Just 90%! LOLOL.
I occasionally remember to take longer meta or ficbits and put them in this sorta catch-all fic posting I have here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18557212/chapters/43986025
But like, by occasionally I mean I’ve remembered a grand total of four times, but hey, whatever. I’m a WIP. The first one is an old magic AU I’m pretty fond of....it was mostly focused on how Dick, Jason and Tim might grow up if they’d been adopted by Zatanna instead of Bruce....though Bruce ends up adopting Cass, Steph and still has Damian. Unfortunately it was written before I got caught up on DC stuff so it doesn’t have Duke in that one....though he’s in two of the others which are more just general Batfam shenanigans.
*Shrugs* Basically I’m random as fuck and hop around a lot, but I’m definitely interested in all the various Batkids, so can happily ramble about any of them with the right prompt, whether a reblog or an ask - just assuming I have the time or energy or am not being a cranky asshole at a particular character because I’m overprotective of my personal chosen fave and not above admitting it. LOL. Quelle problematique.
Like, this is a bit broader of a question then I typically know what to do with, other than just like...point to other things I’ve written that are related, lol, because like....there’s SO MANY thoughts I have or ways I could answer that, I generally don’t know where else to start haha. The more specific you are with an ask or a debate point, the better your chances of getting something definitive from me, lmao.
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Hey, could I request some drunk Neji, Kakashi, and Gaara headcanons???
After doing 80+ headcanons for Neji I had a feeling I’d done drunk Neji headcanons before and I had a look and found I have so I’ll link them below but I’ll do some more anyway since I had two requests for it. Ya’ll really wanna see Neji drunk huh? Also it’s really funny because I originally wrote those Neji drunk headcanons 2 years ago when I drank everyday and now I’m writing them when I’m a year sober, like, CAN WE TALK ABOUT GROWTH!?
Anyway some drunk Neji, Kakashi and Gaara headcanons coming your way. (First time writing Gaara so keep that in mind). x
Drunk Neji public/private headcanonsNeji with drunk s/o headcanonsNeji with drunk and emotional s/o scenario
Neji
-Neji, before he is legally an adult just doesn’t do alcohol for fun or casually, it’s as simple as that. He will do it on formal occasion or for the sake of being respectful when a superior insists he has one (even then he’s reluctant). There’s just something about not being in control that Neji can’t handle. Boy needs to be in control of himself.
-When he’s an adult he will mellow out a little bit and have the odd drink with his partner or teammates but he rarely gets drunks tbh. For him to get drunk it would have to be in the comfort of the village with people he trusted/knew extremely well. But even then it’s rare. Like so rare that if you miss it, it’s the event not to miss. It would be like missing a rare occurrence such as a meteor shower or what not.
-Lucky for you if you are his partner because you are the person he is MOST comfortable with so he’ll do it if you happen to be there. It’d likely happen in your home or his (or the one you share). Also because he doesn’t drink much his tolerance is pretty low. He isn’t used to the tingle in his fingers when the alcohol makes him dizzy nor the way his head spins. He hates it and will do 1 of 2 things depending on his mood. 1) be cranky, call it a night and go to bed (cuddle him to make him feel better he is nauseous as feck) or 2) try one more to see what happens.
-The next drink will loosen him up a bit and won’t feel so out of control even though there is a voice in the back at his mind scolding him. But that’s a tomorrow Neji problem for the Neji that has a stick up his butt and drunk Neji is out to play. And by play I mean stick to you like glue! He get’s really whinny depending on his level. Sometimes it brings up the insecurities in your relationship he tries to hide from you. Please don’t leave me. He’ll plead in your ear (because drunk Neji can be pathetic in front of you but not anyone else there.) But Neji I’m just going to the bathroom. Then again later. I’m just getting you a drink of water. I’m not leaving you. If you laugh at him he’ll remember in the morning and feel worse. Like hungover Neji is worse than sassy Neji because his head is spinning as well as being irritated. Do not prod the beast.
-Drunk Neji’s cheeks are inflamed. As the night progresses it will grow across his face. He has squinty eyes. Thinks activating his Byakugan will help him see. No Neji that’s not how it works, you’re drunk dear. Clutches his cup in his hand so hard it crushes but it’s alright it hasn’t been full in about half an hour. He didn’t know that though and he stares at his hand for a solid 5 seconds. Hold his hand and guide him to a chair.
-Think he likes giving lectures sober? The drunk ones are more passionate and unrelenting. HE IS RIGHT! Won’t back down from a fight but won’t instigate one either. More of a verbal fighter. When he thinks you two are alone will grab the back of you clothes and fist the material tight between his fingers. Likes running his hands down the small of you back dangerously close to your backside. Will go to lean his forehead against yours but ends up just flopping his head down and smacking his hot skin against yours with a bit of a crack. Apologises and closes his eyes. Drunk Neji becomes sleepy Neji. When you put him to bed because you will need to (he won’t go to bed without you because he can’t leave his side which means you’ll have to shower with him and everything. Hold his head up please.) MUST SPOON HIM OR HE WILL GET UPSET! He’s clingy Neji now, something sober Neji will despise in the morning.
-Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t look or talk to you in the morning because he is so embarrassed. Tease him at your own peril but say the right thing and he’ll become a flustered mess. Neji won’t throw up while drinking but he might in the morning because he feels awful. He has a migraine. He is going back to bed and never drinking again, how could you let him do this? Grumpy Neji but also Neji needs a spoon again. He won’t be verbal about this.
Kakashi
-Kakashi can literally be that drunk who sits in the corner quietly and you cannot tell he’s even buzzed. Kind of watches everything with an even more glazed over expression. In the earlier years like original naruto and before, he’s likely to be more of a sad drunk. Just kind of mopey in general but he can’t help it he’s been through a lot.
-Drinking for Kakashi can come close to becoming a coping mechanism but eventually he will be firm with himself. There were times when he would get really down thinking of the past and all he has lost and just sit leaning against his bed (sitting on the floor) and drink without realising it. He just switches off to the world completely and keeps sipping on the burning sake almost has if he wants to deepen the pain. It’s when he feels he deserves to be punished. He gets to a point where he gains an incredibly strong resolve about changing because he is alive and he needs to make the most of it. Especially when there’s people who need him.
-As he gets older drinking becomes a way for Kakashi to unwind. He will get a drink with the fellow jonin after a mission or a way of catching up and talking about their students (or former students) which encourages the others to brag. In the period when Naruto is away from the village with Jiraya he will feel a little sad again while drinking with them and feel like he failed his team while the other instructors talk about their teams successes. The moment will pass, usually with him changing the topic in the best aloof manner he can muster and the evening becomes enjoyable again. Sometimes when he carries himself home though his mind will wander back to that sad place except now he distracts himself with Icha Icha.
-With you drunk Kakashi is different because he has more of a reason to stay distracted and be happier. He isn’t alone anymore so you’ll find him sometimes just staring at you in a hazy gaze with a smile. You have grown to see his smiles beneath the masks, knowing their meaning by looking into his eyes. Kakashi doesn’t have a lot of tells when it comes to revealing emotions but one of the few is his eyes.
-On the way home and away from prying eyes he will hold onto you and not just some innocent arm around you, no no, there’s intend behind the way he holds you. He needs to confirm that you are his because he can’t quite believe it, almost as though you would disappear from view if he did not hold you close. There’s gripping onto the material of your clothes, sometimes so tight he almost pinches your skin. There’s a head resting on your shoulder if he’s drunk way too much. There’s a bunch of nonsense he’s telling you about how he is sorry you have to deal with this but he’s thankful. He’s still a bit vulnerable in a romantic relationship so he won’t babble “I love you’s” yet (unless you are in bed doing the old frick frack, then one or two might slip).
-When he’s older Kakashi embraces the old man drunk. Drinking and feeling happy while also giving wisdom out even, if not most especially, when nobody asked for it. Will definitely do this with Guy. After the war Kakashi takes it upon himself to take Guy out for drinks whenever he can, he may also be an excuse to forget about being the Hokage for a moment or two. Guy and Kakashi have silly bar bets and different rival contests that no contain alcohol. It gets wild and this is when Kakashi laughs/smiles the most because drinking isn’t something bad that brings up sadness anymore, it’s something he does with his friends and you. He gets more into it if you tell him that you’re betting on him to win.
Gaara
-At first he seems exactly the same with his neutral expression and keen eyes looking at the people in the room around him. The only give away without talking to him is his red cheeks. Isn’t the biggest social drinker, except maybe after the war with celebrations, ceremonies, hanging with the other kage etc. But he is also someone who likes to keep a level head and not risk making a fool of himself. Gaara is the king of cool after all (at least shippuden and onward lol).
-Knows he can get emotional when he drinks so he avoids it when his mood is in turmoil. He makes strategic decisions in life and it’s no different with drinking. There is no dancing on table tops and singing for Gaara. He’s more of an observer then an attention seeker. Will smirk a lot at witnessing other peoples shenanigans. Will even talk Kankuro into doing some ridiculous things then deny it when Temari lectures him. But let’s be real him talking Kankuro into doing something his him saying ‘Should I do this?’ and Gaara saying ‘Yes.’ Then all hell breaks loose.
-Can be a little awkward around you if he doesn’t know you to well. He is still quiet and reserved but more likely to keep a conversation going. If he is with you then it’s still similar but every now and again he will whisper something sweet in your ear or clue you in on an observation he made of someone around you two. If there was ever need of a designated driver he would volunteer because drinking isn’t that important for him.
-Is the type to have a drink or two after a long mission or day of work especially as the hokage. Keeps a bottle in the bottom draw of his desk. At one point the bottle is a gift from Tsunade after the war. He splits this bottle with Naruto sometimes when he visits. More of a slow and steady drinker than a fast and crash. Gets drunk at a steady pace so he still feels in control but extremely relaxed and able to let go of his usual stresses. Doesn’t really get nausea from a hangover either but will get a mild headache. Temari will yell at him in the morning to instil the consequences of his actions into him. If he’s with you he will just stay in bed a little longer and will either hold you or have an arm connected with you for comfort.
-Not a fan of shots but will never back down from proving himself if it’s with either you or Kankuro. Probably Kankuro though and that’s usually the one way Gaara can get drunk. Kankuro can hold his alcohol but so can Gaara and they start swaying in their seats and come close to passing out before a winer is decided. Gaara does a good job at keeping himself composed and tries not to speak when he knows his slurring. Speaks really slowly with extreme concentration in an attempt to cover how drunk he is.
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You want a prompt? Okay... How about mshenko, mako sex?! Pretty please?
Well, since you asked so nicely. ;) Here you go. Though I will say I was trying not to get mushy but there might be a little bit in there... I just can’t seem to help it.
“I swear to God, if we make it through this, I’m going to murder whoever designed the Mako.”
John Shepard wiped the sweat that rained in his eyes. He hated heat. He hated to sweat. And he couldn’t stop the rising tide of crankiness that had begun to spill out of his mouth in the form of grumbling and swearing.
For his part, Kaidan Alenko took it with a calmness that had the odd effect of calming Shepard and infuriating him at the same time. The lieutenant was sweating more than his fuming commander yet, even as he used his forearm to soak up the beads that collected on his brow, he smiled. “Everything breaks down occasionally. Especially given the way you drive. Just be glad there is some insulation keeping us from being cooked alive right now.”
Always the silver lining - but Shepard felt no need to be generous. “Well, they should at least be slapped. Just to make me feel better.”
Kaidan chuckled. “Wrex will be back soon. We just have to be patient.”
Soon couldn’t be soon enough but Shepard managed to refrain from saying so. He supposed that Kaidan had a point. They were in a bit of luck that Wrex had come with them. He wished that this had been due to his foresight that just such a disaster might occur - but that certainly hadn’t been in his thought process when picking Wrex for the squad.
As a krogan, Wrex could tolerate the heat and had been dispatched to reach the closest Alliance emergency beacon. Literally nothing in the Mako worked except the emergency lights. The beacon was four klicks away and Wrex had only been gone fifteen minutes. Still, he punched up his omni-tool and barked, “Wrex, report!”
“Ever see a krogan run, Shepard? I’ll get there but not quick or gracefully. Ya gotta give me some time.”
“Uh, just making sure you are okay.”
“Yeeeeaaaaah. How bout I call you when I get there. Wrex out.”
Kaidan raised an eyebrow. “It’s gonna be at least an hour, Commander.”
Damn him and his calm. Just sitting there with a genuine smile on his face. Shepard had a brief moment of wanting to punch Kaidan in the face - which turned to thinking about other, more pleasurable things he wanted to do to his lieutenant’s face - and that just added to his agitation. He jolted up out of the driver’s seat and began to pace, shaking his hands for no other reason then to shed energy.
He felt eyes following him and huffed, “Sorry, I don’t do well with being confined. Or hot. Or helpless. I don’t mean to aggravate you.”
“You aren’t bothering me, Commander.”
“Stop calling me Commander!” The smile slipped from Kaidan’s lips and John suddenly felt like a complete ass. He had to get himself under control. He slid down the bulkhead and clamped his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
“It’s okay, Comman - oh, sorry.”
God, Shepard wished he knew how to be like Kaidan. He told himself that he brought Kaidan along on the majority of missions for just this reason - the lieutenant’s level head helped temper the commander’s spastic spirit. He desperately did not want Kaidan to see him losing his cool. So he smiled - wan but genuine.
Kaidan smiled back - which made Shepard squeeze his eyes shut involuntarily in an effort to ward off the thoughts that circled his mind like ghosts. He forced himself to redirect his thoughts to the discomfort the warm bulkhead brought to his backside. He slowed his breaths and tried to think of nothing at all.
The tactic began to work - until Kaidan’s voice flitted across the mako. “Perhaps we should suit up. The life support should keep us cool for awhile.” He plopped down across from Shepard, cross-legged, hands on his knees. Amber eyes unflinching despite the sweat that poured into them.
A feeling completely unrelated to the heat tugged at Shepard’s chest. He dismissed it with a heavy sigh. “Believe me, I’m tempted. But the life support won’t last until the cavalry arrives, I’m afraid.”
“Good point.”
Another idea stirred in Shepard’s head. His rational mind dismissed it multiple times, yet it gained traction and volume as his bad ideas often did. After a few minutes, it had gained enough power to veto his rational self which could only then sit back and watch in horror as he decided to carry it out.
He stood. His arms crossed his torso and peeled his shirt up over his head before tossing it to the side. His boots soon followed. Socks. He didn’t dare stop. He didn’t dare look at Kaidan or he would have halted right there. Instead, he slid his pants and underwear down in one swift motion before plopping down on the bulkhead once more. The heat of the floor and wall pushed a sharp breath from his lungs but otherwise he ignored it.
Shepard sat, eyes closed but ears actively searching for any sign of Kaidan’s reaction. The thudding of his own heart complicated this endeavor.
Several minutes of silence and a layer of thick sweat served as Shepard’s only covering. It felt smothering and dampened the voice that had declared this a good idea. So, he offered, eyes still closed, the rational he had sold himself on: “Sorry, Lieutenant, I just couldn’t take the clothes anymore.”
“That’s okay, um, Shepard. I understand.” Kaidan’s voice sounded dry. Was it just the heat? Embarrassment?
John forced his eyes open to find Alenko’s gaze following an arc just to the left of his commander, then to the ceiling, before falling to John’s right. Then they started back. Damn. John didn’t know what he’d hoped for and now he felt like a complete heel. He felt no cooler than a moment ago and had only succeeded in making Kaidan uncomfortable.
He scooped his pants up and proceeded in the awkward endeavor of pulling them back on while still seated. He also launched the futile effort of explaining his odd behavior. “I’m sorry. I - well, I just thought - I mean, we’ve seen each other naked before. But I can tell this is bothering you so -”
“No! It’s fine! I - really - it’s okay. I didn’t mean to act like I was weirded out. I just,” he huffed that adorable little huff of his on those rare occasions he gets flustered. “Please. Don’t get dressed on my account. Obviously, I have seen you naked and it doesn’t bother - water. We should get some water.”
Shepard watched, pants stalled at his knees, as Kaidan got up and jolted toward the lockers. He pulled a canteen from his locker and chugged half of it.
“Um, you might want to save some of that for later.”
“Yeah. You’re right,” but Kaidan just stood there, drilling a hole in the bulkhead with his stare.
The half-on, half-off pants begged for attention, some sort of decision of which way to go. John had no idea. The professional and logical departments in his brain demanded that the clothes continue to be donned for the sake of both his and Kaidan’s dignity.
But the chaotic part latched onto something. A feeling. A curiosity. A desire to know just what Kaidan thought of seeing his Commander naked. The battle of wills in Shepard’s head continued but the direction the pants moved, pushed by his own arms, told him which side was winning. Big surprise. So he sat, once again fully naked, and watched. He didn’t want to stare but he needed some sort of sign from Kaidan to know how to continue.
As a fairly keen observer of human behavior, Kaidan both mystified and befuddled Shepard. He knew that Kaidan guarded himself carefully and maintained control at all times. Rarely had Shepard ever seen him slip and be anything other than the consummate professional. He wore an even-keeled facade like an armor.
Meanwhile, Shepard felt little to no control over his emotions, often conflicting, oozing out of every pore of his skin. Even naked, he felt shrouded in shame, desire, envy, love. He damned himself and retreated back to the driver’s seat where he attempted some form of concealment. Tears and stomach bile both threatened to move up and out so he busied himself with pushing buttons and jiggling levers, making far more noise than necessary in doing so.
He missed the footsteps behind him. The hand on his shoulder jolted his attention to his right where he followed an arm up to see Kaidan standing there staring straight ahead, chest rising and falling in slow, exaggerated movements. His brow pinched under the weight of worry.
“Kaid-” John hadn’t finished the question before Kaidan’s lips were on his, chaste but unwavering. Kaidan didn’t pull away. The hot breath of Kaidan’s labored breathing swept over John’s cheek.
Kaidan pulled away and searched John’s wide eyes. His tongue flicked against his lips. “I’m sorry. I guess-”
This time, John didn’t let Kaidan complete his apology. He shot up and attacked Kaidan’s mouth with a hunger he didn’t dare bridle. His hands fumbled for Kaidan’s shirt hem and he pulled upward even as he pushed Kaidan back into the belly of the Mako.
Kaidan offered no resistance, only soft whimpers as they kissed. He took care of his pants and underwear himself, nearly falling as he attempted to pull them over his boots while shuffling backwards. John allowed only a moment for Kaidan to kick them off. He’d seen Kaidan naked before, too. Even though he loved the view, what he wanted at that moment was to touch, to kiss, to fuck. Everything else be damned.
The second that Kaidan had peeled off his last sock, they were back in each others arms, hands roaming anywhere, everywhere. Erect cocks pressed into heaving abdomens. Lips, teeth and tongues a blur of chaotic passion. The soles of John’s feet burned somewhere on the periphery of his consciousness but he didn’t give a single shit - it paled in comparison to the fire in his gut. He didn’t want to let go even for a second.
It was Kaidan that pulled away first after a blissful eternity, chest still heaving. He smiled and left a hand on John’s cheek. “Just a sec.” He turned and walked to his locker. John studied Kaidan’s back muscles and glutes as they worked. Not for the first time. But this time he did it without forcing himself to look away after mere seconds. No. This time he drank in the art in motion with unflinching admiration. At his groin, his dick thudded in tandem with his heart.
Kaidan pulled out an insulated blanket and spread it out on the floor. He pulled John down on top of him. “Better?”
“You’re a genius.”
“Oh yeah?”
Enough conversation. John went back to the more important matters at hand: tasting Kaidan’s mouth, exploring the skin of his back and thighs with one hand, tousling his hair with the other. Nor did they neglect grinding their hips together and tumbling against each other on the floor, the surprise of heat against skin reminding them where the boundaries of the blanket were.
They carried on outside of time. The mako, Wrex, the Normandy, the universe. All forgotten. How long his omnitool pinged before automatically flipping the incoming call to full audio, John had no idea. Only Wrex’s voice had the ability to separate the two men.
“Did you boys fall asleep or something? I’m at the beacon. Normandy sending evac.”
Shit. Already?
“Copy, Wrex. ETA?” He sputtered, trying to calm his panting before speaking. Failing miserably.
“Huh. Twenty minutes. Should I tell them to make it longer?”
This elicited a smile from Kaidan and John wanted nothing more than to get back to having those lips against his. Well, maybe he wanted a little bit more than just that. “Yeah, make it thirty,” he said as he winked.
The omnitool pinged again from its discarded position on the floor signalling that Wrex had cut the comm. Good. Back to kissing.
“No.” Kaidan placed fingers delicately against John’s advancing mouth. He smiled again and hiked and eyebrow upward. “I want to put our remaining time to good use.” He pushed Shepard onto his back and moved to straddle himself over John’s hips.
John thought his cock might explode in that very moment and his pelvis gave an involuntary thrust - which pushed a chuckle out of Kaidan.
“We’ll have time for that later. Besides, we lack some necessary, uh, equipment. But there are other ways I can take care of that.” He bent down and his hair, frazzled as it was from the heat and sweat, fell forward brushing John’s neck as Kaidan kissed his way south. He moved quickly, though he lingered in several spots - to nibble at John’s nipples, to flick his tongue into the belly button.
John didn’t hold back the moans along the way or the full throated bellow as Kaidan’s mouth enveloped his member. His eyes shot open as Kaidan took him in to the hilt, the head of his dick scrubbing the back of Kaidan’s throat without so much as a hiccup from the man.
“Holy fuck! You’ve done this before.”
Kaidan relinquished John’s dick long enough for a wink and a breath before taking it in again. He allowed for a few long, deep penetrating sucks while a hand massaged John's testicles. He did not restrain himself long. After a few moments, Kaidan began furious work on John: head bobbing, replaced momentarily with tight fingers enclosing the shaft while his mouth moved to lick and suck on John’s sack, then back swallowing him whole..
John’s hands gripped at the blanket as he looked down his torso at the man working at his groin, tearing his gaze away only when involuntary moans threw his neck backward and sent his lids squeezing into each other. These waves of pleasure up his spine began to come faster and with increasing frequency.
“No,” he gasped. “Wait. Wait.”
Kaidan raised his head with a question on his face. He waited while John calmed his breath enough to form a sentence.
“My turn.” He didn’t wait for acquiescence. He pulled Kaidan down on top of him, long enough for a moment of breathless kissing, before pushing him back. This time he straddled Kaidan across his chest, but was turned away from him so that Kaidan had a full view of his ass. A momentary worry flickered through John’s head - with all the sweat and their pre-mission protein packs, it might not have been the most pleasant position for Kaidan. Too late now. He had important work to do.
John descended on Kaidan with immediate gusto, lips barely able to spread further into a smile as Kaidan let out a full-throated groan. It fueled him on - gripping, sucking, licking every square centimeter of this man’s beautiful junk. When he allowed himself to take breaths, he relished the sweaty funk that rose from his lover’s thighs. He worshipped it like sweet incense as he knelt there at his alter.
Kaidan’s golden sack began to tighten and Shepard couldn’t wait to taste what was brewing there.
“Shepard. John. Wait.”
John looked back, Kaidan’s dick still throbbing in his hand. He grinned as he took in the pleasure that he saw there. That gleam in Kaidan’s eye that told John he was doing just fine. And Kaidan didn’t have to say what he was thinking. Shepard dismounted and moved to his side, his lips back on Kaidan’s cock the second he got in position. He felt Kaidan’s mouth lock onto his dick as well.
God it felt good. He tried to focus on sucking the cum out of Kaidan but his own groin demanded that he know the sheer ecstasy he was building towards. Fuck, he was so close. He felt for Kaidan’s balls. They were tight which hopefully meant his climax was nearing, too. He massaged them even as he took Kaidan into his throat, his fingers brushing the area behind Kaidan’s sack.
The muffled groan from Kaidan and his heaving stomach told Shepard that he’d made a good move. He pulled back and bobbed furiously and was rewarded within moments with an explosion of sweet cream in his mouth. Kaidan’s dick pulsed as he spilled down John’s throat, moaning all the while.
Yet Kaidan never stopped moving himself. Shepard nearly lost his mind. The warm semen in his mouth, a sting of a slap against his ass, Kaidan’s shudder as John took him fully into the base. He simply couldn’t hold it back any longer.
Waves of pleasure moved inward and outward all at once. The head of his cock erupted with hot, white lava. He screamed in ecstasy into Kaidan’s groin, fingers digging into the man’s solid ass. He felt Kaidan’s face twist at the base of his dick and his lips tighten as they moved up the shaft milking every drop of John’s waste. He moved slow, tongue flicking upward.
John’s own head shot backwards to release the grunts that Kaidan worked out of him.
Kaidan finally released his torturous grip with a smack and a chuckle. “Nice,” he said, even as he licked the last few drops from the tip. The last one turned to a strand that remained tethered to John’s glans even as it stretched away, also attached to kaidan’s chin until he swept it away with his tongue.
“You’re telling me? Damn.” He crawled around, still too weak in the knees to stand, to hold Kaidan chest to chest. They kissed deeply and Shepard could taste traces of his own cum still coating Kaidan’s mouth. Their dicks leaked against each other.
“Normandy to Mako. Commander, do you read?”
“Go ahead, Joker.” He continued to kiss Kaidan’s neck as Joker babbled on about having picked up Wrex. Shuttle on it’s way. Blah blah blah.
“Acknowledged. Shepard out.” He hoped his voice wasn’t too muffled as he spoke against honey skin. He didn’t particularly care, though.
“Guess we should get up and get dressed,” Kaidan said between his own kisses along John’s scalp.
“I guess so. Though, honestly, I could stay here all day.”
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In the Bag - Ch 4/10 - a One Piece gen cat fic
Fic Summary:
All pirates have hordes of treasure. It just so happens in this life, cats are the treasure in Luffy’s.
Chapter Title: Premium Food Things
No pairings/General
Word count: 2138
read on ao3
He stretched out on the sole couch of the Kamabakka Kingdom staff break room after a long night of front door guard duty.
Ten minutes into his break, a weight settled on his chest.
He lifted the magazine from his face and smiled. “You tired of the girls already, Sanji?” Gin asked after the longhaired blonde cat.
Sanji continued to purr, ignoring Gin in favor of keeping his engine going.
Gin chuckled and let the magazine shade his face again. They both had a long night.
Luffy found them like that later, napping at the peak of dawn.
“Sanji!” Luffy was considerate enough to make it sound like he was whispering, when his whispering voice was more like a less loud yell. “Time to go home! Say bye to Bandana Guy!”
Sanji yowled grumpily in protest, hating to be handled by men even half-asleep.
Luffy somehow managed to settle Sanji into the cat-safe bag he kept with him at all times. Gin blinked up blearily to witness Sanji curled up like a cranky, growling croissant, curly whiskers and all.
“Alright, alright. Yes, I know, you don’t want to see Zoro or leave Bandana Guy, but your grooming appointment is coming up. Yeah, you can hang out with Nami for a bit.” Sanji meowed and Luffy laughed. “Oi, oi, that’s not nice to say.”
Gin followed them out and dazedly watched Luffy saunter out the club and into the dimly lit streets. Day had yet to break over the rise of the surrounding buildings.
“Watch out for dark alleys,” Gin warned.
“Sure!” Luffy practically shouted and waved over his shoulder.
Gin waved back, yawning from the doorway of the club.
Seriously. He wasn’t certain if he was expectant or dreading the days Luffy and Sanji came over for their twice weekly visits.
Gin stepped aside as a few club members scrambled to bid farewell to Sanji and Luffy with airborne kisses while the two departed for the station. The place was certainly more lively when they were there.
Their story was odd, even by his standards. What they did at a transgender-friendly club was beyond his comprehension until he got the answer from the owner in person.
“He’s our delivery boy,” Ivankov said. “Luffy-chan is also our benefactor’s son. The two facts are completely unrelated, though! The real reason lies with Sanji.”
“The cat?”
“Yes! The dear was a part of the local feral cat colony until Bon-chan found him caught in a raccoon trap near the Baratie. Turns out he had a chip and was part of that busted drug trafficking business under the guise of a kitten mill from a few years ago. I take care of human beings, but I have no expertise in animals! So we almost turned him into the shelter, but I heard about the dreadful things they do to unwanted cats. And there comes Luffy-chan, sweeping us off our feet with his generous offer of a foster home.”
He had stiffened at the news. It turned out he and Sanji were more connected than he had realized.
Gin confronted Luffy later that week. Luffy had to know his involvement in pushing Sanji to the streets.
It was his fault the drug cartel got busted in the first place. It was in his power to stop what Don Krieg was doing to those poor kittens who were only bred for their pedigree and looks. All those cats, rescued or released to streets ravaging garbage because Gin had decided to follow the direction his moral compass pointed. Betraying Don Krieg was worth the relief his conscience felt at seeing those cats up and about outside the confines of their cages.
Even if that nearly came at the cost of his life.
“I believe Sanji was one of those cats. I couldn’t save him or the rest of his siblings. I’m glad someone did,” Gin finished, head hung in guilt.
Luffy was silent for a moment, the only noise in the room being the brush against Sanji’s thick coat.
“That was almost three years ago,” Luffy said. It was worded like a question.
“Yes. Don Krieg decided to...punish me in the following months after my screw up.” Gin hated to talk about the specifics. Only Ivankov and her right hand Inazuma knew. They were the ones to save his life and provide a safe place to recover.
Luffy nodded thoughtfully. “So you released all the cats? Even though they could have died on their own in the streets without their mothers?” he asked.
“...I didn’t think about that at the time. I only had time to release the dozen cages near me before the police arrived.” He remembered he was too busy wrapping his mind around freedom and I need to get (them) out of there.
“That was reckless!”
“Hi pot, I’m kettle,” Gin muttered.
Luffy snickered. Sanji protested his person’s inattention by batting at his hand. Human continued to brush cat.
“Your heart was in the right place,” Luffy said, scritching Sanji under the chin fondly. Due to the distraction of brush on fur, Sanji allowed it. “You’re kind of like Sabo. Selfish and selfless for other people.”
“Maybe not selfless,” Gin said.
“Hmm, sure.” Luffy didn’t sound like he agreed with that, but let it go.
Gin bit his lip. “Fuck,” he said. To be comforted by a near kid was a near low for him.
His mind flashed to Don Krieg and the dark room which he-would-not-speak-or-think-of.
No. Receiving verbal comfort by Monkey D. Luffy was leagues better than that.
“Yup,” Luffy agreed. “By the way, I help because I want to, not because I have to. I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse, but it’s still better than doing nothing, you know?”
“Yeah...You’re right.”
“Don’t worry too hard over stuff that happened back then. We’re all here now,” Luffy said.
He was eternally grateful to so many people; Gin couldn’t possibly pay them all back for what they had done for him. Couldn’t any one of these kind people realize that?
“What can I?” Gin gestured to the space between them, words failing him.
“Good timing! Can you take in Sanji on Thursday? I’m introducing a new cat to the house,” Luffy requested immediately, shaking Sanji off.
Sanji landed on his feet and skulked out of sight.
“Sanji gets territorial?” Gin had read up on cat behavior once he learned he was the most tolerated person in the building on nights Sanji stayed at Kamabakka Kingdom.
“Nah. It’s weird, right? He used to be part of a feral colony but he’s not like that. He’s only aggressive to guy cats.” Luffy snorted and brushed the cat hair on his jeans off onto the floor.
“So why?” Before Luffy opened his mouth, Gin knew the reason would be simple yet ultimately ridiculous. Maybe it was a sixth sense he had developed due to knowing the likes of Luffy, Ivankov, and even briefly motherfucking Dragon himself.
“Weeeell,” Luffy grinned, extending the word out. “The new cat? She’s a girl.”
When Luffy said no more, Gin blinked. “And?” he prompted.
“That’s it.” Luffy popped his lips. End of that trail of conversation.
Gin pinched the skin between his eyebrows. Ivankov warned him Ds had a tendency to explain without explaining anything at all. This had all the signs of such a thing.
“Luffy. Why can’t Sanji be in a house with a female cat?” Gin asked carefully.
“Oh. Sanji goes WILD over females. You have no idea, man.”
“But he’s…” Gin gestured vaguely down to his family jewels.
Luffy’s grin widened. “Yup. Doesn’t matter! The heart wants what it wants! Cat or human, LOVE stops for no one!” Luffy declared, making an unusual stance Gin knew he definitely learned from Bentham.
So. Knowing Sanji went into immediate heat when getting a whiff of a female was definitely feral cat behavior, according to PAWLEASEHELP DOT ORG. Good for future reference.
He was also 99 percent sure Luffy got that last phrase wrong.
“It’s not just cats, though. Sanji LOVES girls.” Luffy tilted his head. “I don’t get why he doesn’t like some of the girls here? Is it because their leg and facial hair itch? I’m kinda envious though…”
Gin strongly suspected the reason was that some of the members were simply crossdressing.
“Yes, I can take Sanji,” he said quickly.
Key to stopping a D tangent: answering to the whim that seemed like the top priority. If the top priority seemed like a near impossibility, he was instructed to make it happen, at all costs. Ivankov stressed this very seriously.
“Great!” Luffy nodded and patted Sanji’s head. “Sanji, we’re late for that grooming appointment. Hopefully Doctor Hip Lady lets us in for a quick snip.”
The following weekend, Luffy had dumped Sanji on him and promised he would be back for him on Monday. That Monday Luffy asked (ordered) Gin to babysit Sanji again on Thursday, when Luffy had his job at the Red Hair in the evening.
The visits rinsed and repeated until Gin felt they had established a schedule. Sanji would hang out at either Gin’s apartment or the club on Mondays and Thursdays.
Gin felt comfortable and brave enough to ask Luffy where he could find discounted cat beds and food.
“I was thinking, if Sanji needed space to cool off from Zoro or the girls, he could crash at my place,” Gin offered, a tad nervous Luffy would say no.
“I don’t like isolating any of the cats, even if they do get feisty,” Luffy said, frowning. He whipped out a sticky pad and the tiniest pencil from one of his many vest pockets and shoved them into Gin’s face. “Sanji likes you, so I think this is perfect! Do you have a cell?”
The catification was cool. The apartment was meant as a housing complex for the nearby chefs of the professional Baratie. It was through Sanji’s charm that Gin managed to get one. The cat was a favorite of the restaurant, having been deemed the unofficial mascot, so he was cleared for entry on the apartment grounds. Catifying his apartment was given grudging approval by the owner and head chef, Red Leg Zeff.
“That cat and I have deep set history,” the man with an impressively large hat and braided mustache (?) relayed after Gin gaped a bit too long at his quick agreement. “The spoiled yam gave me a reason to keep living. Almost died a homeless nobody in the rain when this mangy puke colored thing hops on my chest and starts rumbling louder than a Lamborghini racing down the freeway.”
“That’s—” Gin was shocked.
“Fucking stupid. I knew that lemon was waiting for my corpse to rot before digging in. But the thing was, I had already broken my leg beyond repair.” Red Leg Zeff chuckled and patted the metal limb. “I said, ‘Here, take this useless limb of mine, brat’ and you know what the drenched rug did? He dug his claws in and purred louder. After taking a piss in a puddle a few feet away, of course. Little did I know that he just about near saved my life.”
“No way.” Gin looked to the cat in question. Sanji was currently cuddled up in the lap of a female customer. Her date sneezed away on the other side of the table. Sanji ate up the attention while looking simultaneously smug about it.
“Yes. I never did manage to get a collar on that one. He kept to himself and the ferals that live around these parts. It didn’t feel right, leashing him and tying him down.” Zeff sighed and got up, striding toward Sanji’s table. “I thought, ‘the least I can do is provide him a safe place to come back to’. Should’ve acted faster, frankly.”
Gin grinned. Luffy was certainly someone known for direct and immediate action.
“Ah.” Zeff addressed Gin, Sanji meowing crankily in his arms. “Boy, don’t bring him into the restaurant when you come. The yam is unpredictable for business, as you can see.”
The male customer was yelling about hazardous restaurant etiquette and the woman was flushed happily, obviously enjoying her brief experience with a loving cat. The Baratie chefs were curiously slipping out of the kitchen. A few noticed Sanji in the head chef’s arms. The rest headed over to take care of the dissatisfied customer.
Gin watched their expressions brighten as they hesitantly approached the cat. They reached out and patted Sanji on the head. A few even blushed as they proceeded to enthusiastically kick and beat the crap out of the man.
“You,” Gin said later, “are a very spoiled cat.”
Sanji yawned and continued his 18 hour nap, presumably dreaming up a paradise of beautiful girls and female cats.
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I have really been in the mood to write some Bangtan-y goodness, so I decided to consult the ol’ googlez and see if, on the off-chance, there was some sort of prompt generator for the group. Lo and behold, there is! My first prompt that I pulled was ‘Jimin and Jungkook in the rain’. So here’s the result of that! Enjoy!
It was good to constantly be working.
Don’t take this to mean the wrong thing - it was tiring to constantly be working, too. But it was the kind of tiring that all the group members could be just a little bit proud of. They were somewhat more accepting of themselves being tuckered out right now, there was a reason for their exhaustion.
Barely off of one comeback and onto another. Not to mention, a world tour. A world tour where they were booking bigger and bigger venues. That was quite something.
The large amount of work and preparation was taking its toll on everyone, though. Everyone had moments where, individually, they found themselves feeling as if they were in need of breaks somewhat more desperately than usual.
Of course the group was professional about all things, however, and they worked through aches and pains, through drowsiness and even the dreaded crankiness that sometimes accompanied sleep deprivation. Certain people were more likely to stumble into this particular symptom than others (coughNamjoonandHoseokcough)) but no one blamed one another and, of course, eventually the time to rest and sleep would come. They’d just have to work until then.
None of this was really new for them. The intensity was, perhaps, something different, but on the whole, it was same old, same old.
Finally, however, an official break time had come and the group of seven briefly split up. Hoseok decided to continue working through the break, helping Seokjin work on perfecting a particularly troublesome bit of choreography.
The move looked so easy flowing from Hoseok’s form, but jumbled and stiff as the rhythm bounced off of the elder’s limbs. It didn’t help that Jin seemed to be feeling a bit of a clown that day, constantly giggling - likely also from sleep deprivation - and seeking out the laughter of the others. And Taehyung, who was always eternally in much the same boat, always looking for joy and laughter in life and seeming in possession of boundless energy, was unfortunately not much of a help in that regard. Seokjin being one of his favorite people, he’d decided to hang around with his hyungs, observing the additional choreography practice.
It was a test to Hoseok’s patience. His sense of humor already drained by exhaustion, and dance was never really an area where his bubbly, carefree side shone. There was no question that the man loved dance, but there was also no question that he was deadly serious about it as well, especially with the group’s comeback so quickly approaching. No one could keep from laughing at the duo that was Jin and Taehyung, not unless they were lacking a soul, but Hoseok found himself much more focused on the dance moves they were to be going over and he was always able to pull the focus back to the topic at hand.
Yoongi and Namjoon had decided to head out for some coffee and a bit of a rant. Well, it was more like philosophical dialogue on Namjoon’s end, but it was a pure, dryly sarcastic banter from where Yoongi was situated. Both kept bringing the talk back to their preferred leanings, the conversation less of a tug-of-war and more of a balancing act that was effortlessly carried out by the grace of years of friendship.
Jimin and Jungkook, however, had needed some air. Lucky for Jungkook, the stormy grey sky above Seoul found this the perfect time to open up and unleash its contents. He loved the rain. It brought a particular cleansing smell to the air and it was the perfect way to cool off. Utterly relaxed by the elements, the maknae closed his eyes and tilted his head back, relishing in the pitter-pattering sensation the raindrops made as they dropped to his skin. A content, tranquil sigh went past his lips and they stretched into a smile.
Jimin was not quite as happy. He did not experience the rain with the same serendipity that Jungkook did. Mainly because this meant, now, he’d be dancing in wet clothes - not something he really enjoyed. Jimin liked to feel relatively free when he moved, and now the fabric around him would cling to him. His hair would, inevitably, dry strangely as he’d be in constant movement and, ugh, he just wasn’t thrilled about this. Where Jungkook smiled at the sky, as if in thanks, Jimin scowled, silently cursing it. Why did it have to be rain?
The only sign that Jungkook’s eyes had opened and his focal point changed was the telltale snicker that just barely sounded over the precipitation. “Why don’t you go inside, hyung?”
The currently blonde Jimin looked over questioningly, the sourness he directed at the weather not completely lost from his expression even now as it was being leveled at the maknae.
“You look like a cat who’s been hosed off.”
“Yah, this kid. I’m out here keeping him company and he insults me - no respect.”
Jungkook’s smile grew. He beamed brighter and it really reached his eyes, which gave a good-natured roll at Jimin’s comment. Kid. He was only two years younger than this hyung. If Jungkook was a kid then so was Jimin. Still, he returned to his original point. “Seriously, though, you don’t have to keep me company. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.”
A questioning hand extended from Jimin’s direction, the action holding with it an air of mock offense. “Why do you assume that I’m out here for you?” He took to gesturing all around him, then. “I like fresh air just as much as anyone else.” A pause as Jimin eyed the younger member. Then, he sighed, shaking his head. “I knew it. You graduating has made your head swell. Our maknae, turned so self-centered. Wait ‘til I tell Jin-hyung, he’ll be so disappointed-“
“Me self-centered?” It was more of a witty interruption than a real snap of attitude. Still, it’s not something that Jungkook would’ve tried with one of the older hyungs (maybe Jin). Or, well, it wasn’t like this was done intentionally - it was more of an instinctive reaction, to reply like that. But he might’ve been quick to apologize had it happened with anyone else. This was Jimin, though.
Jimin who, now, squinted his eyes suspiciously and looked taken aback. “What?”
Jungkook shrugged, turning back to the sky. “I’m just saying, hyung, you’re the one who always turns conversations on himself.”
Jimin’s answer is immediate. He isn’t offended, he only waves his hand. “That’s different.”
This pulls Jungkook’s gaze right back to the blonde, looking surprised and amused. “How is that different?”
Another pause. The longer the silence stretches, the harder it is for Jimin to hold down the shy, embarrassed smile that threatens to overtake his face. In the end, he can’t help it. “Because it’s me.”
The maknae cackles, doubling over.
Jimin isn’t really self-centered - Jungkook knows this. But it’s something they all frequently joked about. In reality, Jimin is merely shy and in need of a lot of reassurance. No one minds this. But it’s fun to tease and make it out to be something that it isn’t. Jimin seems to have fun with it, too.
The blonde gives the younger member a hard, playful, chastising shove for his disrespectful actions, even though he’s been conquered by giggles as well. Jimin could never help it. “Aish, you brat, what are you laughing about?”
Jungkook is still doubled over when he reaches up with a hand, gesturing with sharp thrusts of it in Jimin’s direction with each word. “You are a walking example of self-centered!”
Still smiling, still laughing, Jimin has decided that he’s had enough. “Alright, that’s it, come here.” He takes advantage of the younger one’s bow and locks him in a playful headlock.
Jungkook is hit by another wave of laughter. “Hey!”
“Who am I?”
“Now you have amnesia?!”
Jimin is insistent, gives a squeeze of his arm around the maknae’s neck. “Who am I?”
Jungkook’s sass, however, is unrelenting. “A tall midget.” He’s met with a playfully testy growl from above him and suddenly he’s nearly being pulled over to the floor.
“I’m your hyung, you brat!” It’s now that Jimin intensifies his assault, reaching down with his free hand to begin a barrage of noogies. The air fills with Jungkook’s choking laughter.
“Stop, stop!”
“Call me Jimin-hyung.”
“Jimin-hyung.”
Huh. That was easier than expected. Good. Jimin releases Jungkook and the maknae stretches when he stands back to full height.
Honestly, Jimin should’ve realized that it had been too easy a task, for, obnoxiously, not a second later, Jungkook chases his brief show of respect with- “the tall midget.”
Which, immediately, has Jimin give chase. Jungkook’s ready for it, though, and he takes off right away. Together they run back into the building and up to their practice room, like a pair of wet, wild dogs tracking water everywhere, much to the dismay of everyone else.
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Nick Riewoldt injury not related to his lack of rest, says St Kilda coach Alan Richardson
St Kilda coach Alan Richardson says the Saints’ decision not to rest Nick Riewoldt three weeks ago is unrelated to the veteran’s latest injury.
Riewoldt, 34, was left out of the Saints’ side for Saturday’s clash against the Western Bulldogs at Etihad Stadium having pulled up with bone bruising in his left knee after last weekend’s loss to Sydney. While it is not the same knee he hurt in the round one defeat to Melbourne, Richardson acknowledged earlier this month that Riewoldt could have been rested for the round seven win over Greater Western Sydney, a match in which Riewoldt was subdued.
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The 30 seconds that changed the game
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Late Geelong goal beats Power in thriller
Late Geelong goal beats Power in thriller
Geelong and Port Adelaide played out a see-sawing affair which ultimately saw the Cats prevail by just two points.
The 30 seconds that changed the game
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The 30 seconds that changed the game
The 30 seconds that changed the game
Geelong and Port Adelaide were neck and neck when the umpires called time on Charlie Dixon’s free kick.
FootyFix: It’s Dreamtime at the ‘G’ time
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FootyFix: It’s Dreamtime at the ‘G’ time
FootyFix: It’s Dreamtime at the ‘G’ time
Rohan Connolly previews all the footy action ahead of round 10 in the AFL.
McLachlan: MRP have tough decisions to make
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McLachlan: MRP have tough decisions to make
AFL CEO Gillon McLachlan believes the Match Review Panel will have some hard choices to make from Round Nine.
AFL plays of round 9
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AFL plays of round 9
AFL plays of round 9
Dangerfield sets the standard, Tiges lose again at the death, Eddie banks another GOTY contender, Bucks bark sparks Pie revival and North run and carry undoes the Dees.
Swans make it three straight
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Swans make it three straight
Swans make it three straight
Buddy Franklin kicked four majors as the Swans turned it on to comfortably beat St Kilda.
Lachie Plowman vs. Rubik’s Cube
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Lachie Plowman vs. Rubik’s Cube
Lachie Plowman vs. Rubik’s Cube
Say, how quickly can Carlton footballer Lachie Plowman master a Rubik’s Cube?
Late Geelong goal beats Power in thriller
Geelong and Port Adelaide played out a see-sawing affair which ultimately saw the Cats prevail by just two points.
Richardson maintained that position on Friday, but he rebuffed a suggestion that the lack of rest that week led to his non-availability for this week’s match.
“In hindsight, we possibly could have rested him [for GWS],” Richardson said.
“[But this time] it was more just about this week,” Richardson said.
Richardson insisted that Riewoldt hadn’t been rested this week, and was legitimately too sore to play.
“We were hopeful he’d come up, but it was pretty clear early in the week that he was still a little bit sore,” Richardson said.
“This one’s been taken out of his hands and our hands.”
Banged up: Nick Riewoldt Photo: Getty Images
The champion’s hopes of missing just one match are helped by the fact the Saints have the bye next week, with the club’s next match not until an away game against Adelaide on June 9. “This will be just a good opportunity for him to have a break.
“I don’t think it’s any secret that he’s had cranky knees for a while. He’s been remarkable.”
Despite Riewoldt’s absence, the Saints opted not to recall fellow tall forward Josh Bruce, who was dumped for the Swans match. Richardson said Bruce simply hadn’t played well enough in the VFL to warrant a senior return, with Tim Membrey and Paddy McCartin named as the talls in what is overall a shorter forward line, which will also likely feature goalsneak Darren Minchington, who was recalled along with Shane Savage, with Luke Dunstan dropped. “Structurally, [including Bruce] probably makes a little bit of sense, but just his form prior to him going out and then again on the weekend wasn’t quite where it needed to be,” Richardson said.
“We’re happy with the group we’ve got in front of the ball.
“It’ll give us a different look – there’s probably a little more speed and energy given that we’re going to be a bit smaller but that’s what we think is the best way to go against the Dogs.”
Richardson refused to specify what Bruce needed to do to earn back a spot. “I’m going to be general. He knows exactly where it sits. So does any player that goes out of our team.
“We just need Brucey to be in better form. His effort, his energy, his contest is never in question. It’s just his form in terms of finishing.”
Richardson also said enforcer Mav Weller was on the right track after missing the Giants match with a rolled ankle. “He’s been a little bit sore. He finished the [Swans[ game really positively on the weekend so we’d expect him to roll on from that,” he said.
“He’s had a good week on the track.”
Saturday’s match is an important one for both sides, with the Bulldogs entering round 10 in eighth spot, ahead of the ninth-placed Saints on percentage. St Kilda have a good recent record against the reigning premiers, having won two of the three matches played between the clubs since Luke Beveridge became Dogs coach.
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Batfandom’s favorite word to use is “adopted.” And I don’t mean that in a good way, but in a ‘nah, this is actually kinda obnoxious’ way?
Like, 90% of fics and headcanons in Batfandom flat out refuse to use the words ‘father,’ ‘brother(s),’ ‘sister’ or ‘son(s),’ without the qualifier ‘adopted’ always, always, ALWAYS attached to the front of said words. Like, endlessly. Over and over. Not just once, early on, to establish the specific nature of the family relationships, but like....this sledgehammer insistence on bringing that point home. Each. And. Every. Time. A. Familial. Relationship. Is. Described. Ever.
Sorry to be cranky about it, I know people don’t mean any harm by it, and like, I’m not saying its offensive. That’s not the right word IMO, but its definitely....grating? And just to be clear, I don’t pretend I’m speaking for everyone who’s adopted or from adopted families, I’m sure plenty of people who fit that description have different takes on this than me. BUUUUT I also know for a fact that I am not the only person this bugs in a big way. I’ve had this convo over the years with a lot of other fans I know who are adopted. And its not just Batfandom either, its every fandom with central adoptive relationships, like Thor and Loki, etc. Its just especially jarring in Batfandom because there’s so many different adoptive relationships front and center, so this pops up like...EVERYWHERE.
Idk, like....I’d just ask that writers please consider WHY they feel the qualifier ‘adopted/adoptive’ is a necessary addition every time the label of father/son/brother is used in a fic. What they think it adds, what they feel it describes about the relationship that’s different from any other father/son/brother relationship. Because I do think that most people (at least those not from adopted families themselves) do it without thinking about it. It seems just like another descriptor, like its addition is just a level of specificity that’s like, slightly more accurate than JUST father/son/brother......its just. In my experience, and that of most other adopted kids/relatives of adopted kids I’ve spoken with personally....that’s not really how it works?
Its about context, is the thing. How a thing is framed. When used just initially, like when establishing the exact nature of family dynamics, sure, in that sense its an accurate descriptor that lends an additional level of specificity to family relationships. It describes how this particular family formed, how it came to be. But AFTER that’s been established....that qualifier of adopted tacked onto every family label....its no longer establishing anything further. Instead, now its just perpetuating the idea that the nature of the family relationship itself is inherently different, BECAUSE of how it was formed.
Its a subtle distinction, but its very much a real and definite distinction. When first used, ‘adopted’ describes a family origin. Used over and over, ‘adopted’ describes a family that’s somehow wholly different from non-adopted families, BECAUSE that specific family origin is seen as superseding and overlaying every other aspect of the family and its inter-dynamics. You see what I’m saying? And its that latter part that grates, because...no? That’s not....that’s not nearly the omnipresent thing that I think a lot of people seem to take for granted it is?
Again, maybe its different for other adopted families, but like.....okay. So, in my case, my mom’s technically my adopted mom, I have a different bio mom that I haven’t seen since I was ten, my older sister has the same bio parents as me and my two younger siblings are adopted with no biological relation to each other or to anyone else in our family, though unlike me and my sister were adopted at birth. For as long as my mom’s been my mom....I barely ever referred to my mom as anything other than my mom. It usually didn’t occur to me to use qualifiers when describing her, because like, she was who I saw as my mom. I mean, she’s literally my mom. That’s literally what that word adopted in front of the label ‘mother’ means. Whether you include it or not, the mother part remains true.
And in fact, describing her as my adopted mom wasn’t even like, an establishing qualifier I always included when first talking about my family to someone who didn’t know our history. It was usually more kinda....a tenth conversation kind of clarification because it was more an afterthought than anything else? Like kinda a belated realization when they looked at me confused at something I just said, like...’oh yeah, see technically my mom is my adopted mom, and when I said ‘my mom’ there just now I was actually talking about my bio mom, totally different thing. Like technically I have two, but only one really matters most of the time so its not worth mentioning to like, everyone I meet, you know?’ That sort of thing. If anything, I was more likely to use the qualifier in regards to my birth mom, the one I didn’t live with. Like I’d say, this is my mom when talking about my mom, as in my adopted mom, and I’d refer to my birth mom as just that, as my birth mom or my bio mom.
And my siblings and I tended to describe ourselves as adopted siblings more upfront, at least when introducing ourselves and our familial relationship to someone new...but that was less about us seeing us our sibling relationship as being different from non-adopted families, and more just like...a necessary avoidance of bullshit? LOL, because I mean, its kinda obvious that my siblings and I aren’t biologically related. I’m white, my little sister is Vietnamese, my little brother’s indigenous Mexican. We tended to lead with “this is my sister/brother, we’re adopted’, but mostly because like.....full offense, but people are kinda dumb? *Shrugs* If we just said ‘this is my sister and this is my brother’ and just left it at that, people would nine out of ten times like....stutter and get all squinty-eyed and confused and be all...what...how...because lol, idk, apparently its a hugely hard leap to figure out oh hey, maybe adoption is a thing here?
(And also just FYI in general, it was always just annoying because like, even if you don’t ‘get’ HOW two seemingly unrelated people can be related and all they say when introducing themselves is ‘we’re brother and sister’, like.....you’re not actually owed an in depth explanation as to omg how did this strange phenomenon come to be. And the entitlement so many people we encountered growing up, where like....they felt they were owed our life stories upon meeting us just once, simply because they Didn’t Understand and somehow this equated to But They NEEDED To Understand, because...Reasons....like, no. You don’t actually need to understand how two people are related if they don’t feel like providing you with the full context. Either take them at face value or don’t, you don’t get to be a dick and demand a full accounting of their legal and symbolic relationships just so you can like....validate this and be all okay yeah, that checks out, I’ll allow it. LOL. No? Your validation of our relationship is not required, nor is your understanding of it, get over yourselves. So just. Like. Don’t be Those Guys. If you meet people who introduce themselves as family and the exact nature of that family relationship isn’t immediately obvious or seems somewhat confusing like....just...deal? They’ll tell you more if they want you to know more, and if they don’t tell you more they probably feel you know everything you need to know and that’s literally their call to make, so....yeah).
Idk. Like, due to the age differences in our family, my little sister and I were the only ones who overlapped in attending the same schools at the same time, just different grade levels. And we used to have this bit where any time someone new stumbled while grasping the fact that we were brother and sister, and they did that Brain Malfunction, Processing Error glitch face while they tried to compute Asian sister, white brother, how does that even work....so like, at some point we just started doing this thing where any time we saw that Look, my little sister would launch into this painfully earnest explanation of how so, “okay, our dad’s Vietnamese and our mom’s white, and I got all the Vietnamese genes and my brother here got all the white genes,” and I would just keep a totally straight face and nod along, backing her up, and you could literally see them falling for it for a good minute or so before they realized oh hey, they’re totally just bullshitting me. And then eventually we got told to cut it out because teachers were complaining about looking dumb in front of other students when we did that, which, well duh that’s cuz you were, dumbasses BUT I DIGRESS.
But point is.....I honestly do not know many (if any) adopted families who go around making a point to emphasize the adopted part of their family relationships any and every time they come up, the way most fiction tends to depict adopted characters doing? Once we established to a person that yes, we’re adopted, we didn’t ever feel a need to re-emphasize that or re-establish that same point any time after that. If they idk, forgot or got confused again or whatever, I mean...not our problem, you know? You get one explanation, if you still don’t get it after that, you’re probably not gonna get it anyway because its not like....rocket science. Was pretty much our stance.
And so okay, full disclosure, since anyone who’s followed me for some time has heard me talk about not really having a relationship with my family anymore....like yeah, its true, but because of a whole host of reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with anyone’s adoption status. I mean, I basically hate my parents’ guts and have for a long time, but they’re still my parents, biological and adopted ones alike. And I love my siblings, we’re just unfortunately not close anymore because of all kinds of baggage that got heaped on us that there was really no way to deal with gracefully, look there are reasons I project on the Batfam and identify with that source material, lmao.
Again though, my point is.....even at the best of times, my family was crazy dysfunctional, much like the Batfamily is.....but even at the worst of times, literally nobody in my family was ever going around insisting on making a distinction about most of us not being biologically related, you know? That’s just....not a thing, IME. Like, family’s kinda all or nothing. You’re either family, or you’re not. The how of it only really matters if you’re hashing out something where that’s specifically relevant, otherwise, not so much because I mean....if it was that easy to make a distinction about how your family is only kinda technically sorta your family, it’d be a hell of a lot easier to just...walk away, you know? Like, even when you flat out hate members of your family, there’s not really a lot of confusion on whether or not you actually consider them family. As complicated as your family dynamic might be, people aren’t usually looking for places to add in that additional complication of ‘mmm but are we reeeeeeally even family, technically?’
So all of that plays into why its so jarring to see writers so insistently and repeatedly emphasize the ‘adopted’ part of Batfamily relationships, as though its like the most important aspect of their entire family dynamic...the be all and end all, the thing EVERYTHING inevitably traces back to, in every fight, in every dynamic, etc. And yeah, I do think people who aren’t adopted or from blended families themselves should maybe put a little more thought into what’s going through their head when they emphasize the adopted part of a family dynamic, like why they fixate on it as the most defining aspect or criteria of it. Because its really not nearly as reflective of reality as the sheer overwhelming SAMENESS of how often its written that way would suggest. Again, just speaking in my experience and that of those I’ve had this fandom conversation with, over the years.
Like, any way you write them, the Batfamily is dysfunctional as hell and always will be. But bottom line, there are some not that great implications underlying the....default assumption, that this dysfunctionality all stems from or inevitably traces back to that ‘adoptive’ qualifier. Have Dick or Jason or Tim or Damian flat out hating each other’s guts at times, there’s certainly canon to support it, and sure, insecurity as to their individual places in their family is always going to be at least a PART of it, but like....being insecure about your place in your family isn’t exactly an experience unique to adopted members of families, you know? But the way the Batfamily is usually written certainly seems to treat that as the takeaway, and again, I’m not sure offensive is the way I’d describe that, but it most definitely is grating. And it never fails to pull me right out of a story and like, moan dramatically at the heavens “oh my god, whyyyyyy, why do so many writers think we’re all just...totally unaware that these kids are all adopted and need to remind themselves and each other and us of that every other paragraph’.
Mostly because I’m dramatic like that, but also because its annoying too. Like....we get it, dudes. This is not brand new information. Its okay. You can refer to Bruce as just ‘their father’ or to their brothers or Cass as just ‘their brothers and sister’. You will not have like...lied, or anything.
Anyway. Those are my 6 am thoughts on the Batfam, fandom in general, and how you really only need to use the word ‘adopted’ like...once per relationship per fic. That’s really all it takes? The additional 674 mentions of adoption are kinda....gratuitous.
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