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jessequinones · 1 month

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Writing Advice: Chapters

A lot of my advice comes down to, having beta readers, and “it’s up to you” which doesn’t sound like good advice but when it comes to writing, everyone writes differently so there are different ways of doing the same thing. So, what’s my advice when I talk about chapters?

To me, a chapter is a section of the book which talks about a certain event. There’s no right or wrong way for how long the event should be, and there’s no right or wrong way of how the event can start or end. Here’s how I write my chapters and what I’ve learned along the way.

Starting the chapter:

Before I start the chapter, I need to figure out what the main event is gonna be. Will this event be informational? Action pact? Suspenseful? It can also be a combination of a few events as well, such as having my characters find information, but something goes wrong and now they have to escape.

After I figure out what the main event is gonna be, I start writing and once I complete that event I end it and move on. I try not to carry on too much after the main event has finished because I feel like my chapters might drag if I do.

Writing the chapter:

When it comes to a chapter, I try to have a beginning, middle, and end section. (Keep in mind this doesn’t work for every chapter.) Let me explain what I meant about those sections. The event in this example is Nix and Dante are tryna get information, but something goes wrong after they get said information. So the chapter starts at the beginning where Nix and Dante enter a secured location. The middle is where they get passed all of the alarms and hacked into the network. The ending is they got the information but an alarm gets triggered anyway.

Expanding the chapter:

So, I wrote the beginning, middle, and end, the event is done, but it was kind of boring. Let’s expand it to them escaping. This is where I think chapters start to become long. Some people combine two events into one chapter and some events are longer than others. Escaping a secured facility sounds more difficult than sneaking in. So, adding an escape attempt can spice up the chapter, but you need to be careful with how you do it.

I think when people complain about long chapters, one of their reasoning is “This feels like it could’ve been split into two chapters”. It might be the fact there are two separate events, both with their beginning, middle, and ends. If you want to expand upon your chapter, I would change how the beginning, middle, and end originally played out so it feels more natural when you go from one event to the next. This will take practice and beta readers can help if a chapter sounds too long or just right.

So instead of sneaking into a place, getting the information and having to escape. I would get rid of the middle part where Nix and Dante were sneaking and just show them entering the building, maybe talk for a few paragraphs before they reach their end goal because I already know escaping is gonna add several more pages. It’s a trial and error, and some readers might prefer the sneaking portion, while others might enjoy the fast pace. The end result is what do you like?

Continuing chapters:

What about chapters that don’t need a beginning, middle and end? Those chapters are what I call, continuing chapters. The most obvious examples of continuing chapters are the final climax of a story, like a big battle. The big battle might take multiple chapters to get through, and starting at the beginning, middle, and end of each chapter where the main event is the final fight, might get a bit tiresome. A simplified way of taking a large event, like a big fight, and breaking it over several continuing chapters is having each chapter be its own thing. Let’s say it takes three chapters to finish the final confrontation. The first chapter is the beginning, so there’s lots of build-up, but nothing too bad. The second chapter is the middle and is normally the longest out of the three. It’s the one with the most fighting and maybe a character dies at the end as a cliffhanger. The third chapter is where the villain is defeated and the fight is over thrust concluding the three sections.

That was a very simplified way of explaining continuing chapters, but yeah, not every event can be told in a single chapter, sometimes you have to space them out a bit. I would recommend letting the readers know that said event will most likely take a long time to complete so they'll be aware it's gonna be a long read.

Length of a chapter:

People often ask, how long should a chapter be, and there’s no real answer to that. Some can be a page, and I’ve seen others that are thirty. (Looking at you DragonFire). I personally don’t try to go for a word count or page limit. Often times when I try to make my chapters reach a certain goal, I find there’s a lot of filler that could’ve been cut. This is why I like to write my chapters as if I were writing an event and just focus on the event itself. If I need to expand or get rid of something, I can do that later.

My chapters are normally three pages in length, whenever I go over that, I try to tell my readers the next upcoming chapters will be long. This kind of tactic will depend on your story of course, but let’s go back to Nix and Dante.

In the example, Nix and Dante went into a secured location, took some information and got caught, now they needed to escape. If I want to add the escape portion in the same chapter because breaking in was kind of short, I might tell the reader before said chapter even began that “This mission won't be an easy one”, or “You’ll need to be real careful stealing the information because if you get caught, guards will come.” So, by the time Nix and Dante do get caught, the reader should be aware, the chapter will continue for a few more pages.

Oh yeah, if you’re gonna write a long chapter, make sure to have at least one smaller chapter to break it up. (DragonFire) Having long chapters, after long chapters, is, at least for me, very tiring. I don’t like to stop reading midway through a chapter, but reading thirty pages in a day is very difficult. So if you know you have some long chapters, throw in a few short ones.

Readers might also hate long chapters because they feel like there’s a bit too much filler in them. (Filler-in chapters aren’t the same thing as filler chapters).

Filler-in chapters might appear in one of two ways, either there’s too much filler to get to the main event, or there’s too much filler and the chapter should’ve ended already. Beta readers are a good way of telling you if there’s filler in a chapter or not. Keep in mind, that you, as the writer know what’s best for your story. Readers can only tell you how they feel. If you feel the “filler” part isn’t filler, but a lot of people say it is. Finding a workaround can be difficult. Unfortunately, I don’t have any advice on this kind of topic because this kind of writing problem is unique for every writer. Writing groups might be able to help as they’ll have your text and can help figure out what's going on.

Filler chapters:

There’s nothing wrong with filler chapters. Not every chapter needs to focus on the main story. I personally like filler chapters. They’re fun chapters which explore the characters and the world. A bit of a refresher after an intense fight is fine. When people complain about filler chapters, it’s often because there’s a bit too much of them. Or they came out of nowhere and killed the pacing. For example, if everything has been dark and gritty, having a chapter that’s more on the upbeat side is strange. Also if the chapter ends with a character's death and the next one ignores it, readers might not like that. This is one of the reasons why I don’t like POV swapping between every chapter. If someone dies in character (A) POV, and the next chapter switches to character (B) POV where they’re on the beach…I might get a bit annoyed. Even if Character (B) POV isn’t filler, I just witnessed someone die, I wanna know what’s going on and not swap to another POV.

Also filler chapters tend to be on the shorter side as well. If a filler chapter goes on a bit too long, then it might feel like the story is losing its focus a bit.

Beta readers can help point out which chapters are filler and where to add in filler if that's something you want to do.

Chapter Endings:

Ending a chapter is always interesting, do you want to end it with a cliffhanger or not? Does your chapter flow smoothly from one to the other? I don’t mind cliffhanger endings but try not to make every chapter a cliffhanger. At some point it becomes a bit much for some readers such as myself, I prefer to stop reading at a good stopping point. Cliffhangers aren’t a stopping point, I need to see what’s gonna happen next. Creating a cliffhanger after a long chapter, for me is a bit much. Long chapters already drain me, and forcing me to continue to get to an actual stopping point will make me enjoy your book less. (I understand no one is forcing me to read a book, but I just really, really hate stopping at cliffhangers). Not to mention if there are multiple cliffhangers in a row, I might put the book down and not pick it up for a long time because I’ll have no idea how many cliffhangers I’ll have to deal with before getting to an actual pause in the story. Personally, as a reader, I feel like there needs to be good stopping points. Places where it’s safe to stop reading and the reader can pick it back up later.

If you end a chapter in a city and the next one starts in a jungle, that kind of scene change might be a bit confusing so again, just send it through a couple of beta readers and see how you did with the transition portion of going from one chapter to the next. The same thing goes for tone as well. If the last chapter ends with a death, and the next one is in a circus, the tone shift might be a bit much. Just pass it along with a beta reader.

That’s about it for chapters. If you want some more detailed advice on certain chapters then let me know, but chapters are one of those things where it comes with practice. The length, the event, the ending, all of this stuff will be determined by your ability to write. Beta readers are a great way of pointing out how they felt while reading a chapter and you can go from there.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writer #writers #writerscommunity #creative writing #writing advice #write

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princessfroslass · 2 months

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Angel Dust has a clear validation problem.

I had been thinking about this ever since episode 2 and episode 6 all but segmented this onto my subconscious.

Angel clearly doesn't care whenever anyone slut shames or just overall insult him- he lives to get a rise out of people. Hell, Hazbin Hotel's VERY FIRST SCENE on the Pilot was him going full "oh yeah slut, very creative." And going after Travis life- but not on a insecure way, he very clearly didn't care. Fast forward to the actual show and it's more of the same- he doesn't care whenever Vaggie or Husk or anyone else threaten him because he enjoys the chaos and it's open about the fact he is only there to no pay rent. He just doesn't care about what others think of him.

Except.... When he does.

You see it's interesting because back on that origin comic (that I don't even know if it's canon anymore but for a characterization point I'll take it.) when Charlie states they need a quest and even pays him for his time (Angel was working on the street when they meet him) and she goes full "this is an investment, on you." He leaves the limo all "oh...ok....sure...." Clearly moved or touched by her faith in him, even though he still thinks it's misguided trust.

Back to episode 2, it's pretty much the anthesis of this. For once, someone else seems interested on changing his ways and THAT obviously excites Charlie, who referred to Sir Pen as "the hotel's first real quest" now to be fair with her, Angel is very vocal about how he thinks the Hotel is BS and hadn't show any intention to change his ways soon- but y'know that still must stings like it hasn't even been a week and this girl that is all sunshine and rainbows already gave up on him lmao but it gets even worse- on the roleplay thing, look at the fucking role he is giving- A CRACKHEAD- like he had to pause before saying that shit- and to rub salt on the wound, Sor Pen performance ends with the "no sex before marriage!" Line. Like out of all sins one could commit- you pick Addiction to Drugs (more specifically CRACK) and Sex. Yo girl what the fuck- and ofc, only Sir Pen gets congratulated, because Angel was critical of the whole thing and the former was full on enthusiastic about it- the last shot before the bedroom scene we get us Angel staring at Charlie validating Sir Pen's efforts and how he is going to be redeemed so fast before Angel sadly goes upstairs.

Now the room scene..... Yikes. The fact that the roleplay was all and on about the drugs thing and how the last voicemail/Angel's imagination? Things we heard it's "Addict trash like you doesn't change"... Hahaha all the yikes with that fucking roleplay. So yeah it's very fucking clear from the get go Angel has....issues. Hell even after "It starts with Sorry" when everyone goes back to sleep he doesn't looks happy, just resigned lmao

(Which it's funny because on the very next episode he saves Sir Pen from the war thing going down but I digress)

Now episode 4- oh MAN where do I even start. Now remember how in the first paragraph I mentioned how Angel disses Travis but like, in a confident way? Not on the way someone affected would react? Well this ep is everything but that lmao "I don't give a shit about what a drunk ass bartender thinks of me" reeks of insecurity by the tone alone I am sorry. Notice how he looks very taken aback when Husk calls his act out before he doubles down and goes full "I am actor dumbass" bit. Man's defenses were penetrated in a way it hasn't before and he needed a moment to put more bs out of his ass because God forbid someone in this Hotel knows how horrible his life is and how much he hates himself- and then his advances were thoroughly rejected for good ("It's never gonna work on me") and he absolutely losses it. Not being able to compute that someone that clearly stared at him long enough to read him, doesn't want to fuck him. Disgusts from people that barely knows him he can take- being told to his face it's not working, he can't. And it's not even because he particularly want to fuck anyone there- that is how he sees his own worth. He makes Val money, everyone around wants to take him, his services are apparently FAR from cheap ("you know how much I am WORTH?!") and he had based his whole self worth around it- no matter how many times he gets taken advantage of on a random club on 3am or if is his own fucking abuser (he literally only opened Val's voicemails after the whole ep2 fiasco) people either despises him because of his overt sexuality or want to use him for it (there is also the middle road where his worse habits are enabled and that makes him 'fun' company- but I'll be there in a min) there just can't be a reality where he is told to his face that he is destroying himself and any connection he can have WITHOUT the alterior motive of wanting to fuck him- right? I mean even Charlie's hope on him was proven to be limited, so why bother?

Enter Loser, Baby.

And yes, my beloved Huskerdust atem- you see there is something fucked up about it. Angel only joins in to sing as well after he goes full "I am a hoe that likes drugs tehee" but unlike always, he is...not proud of it. He only sings about it because Husk sang how "it's ok to be a-" like expecting a negative, and it's ONLY when Husk completes it with a "Baby that is fine by me" does Angel truly smiles. He just had a whole breakdown, he doesn't has the energy to put his facade and his "I don't care what you think" actitude. But because Husk validates that he is able to follow along.

There is also the "This guy it's not that bad" part. Angel softened up at that because, again, Husk validated him- the real him. He saw through his facade and embraced it.

In episode 5 there is this little scene where Charlie is talking to her father over the phone and everyone else is silently supporting her from behind. And Angel, the ever realist- is just....grimacing through the whole thing lmao but to his credit seemed to support her regardless- but what cought my eye through the whole thing is that when Charlie goes full "Dad, this is important to me!" The camera focus on Angel a bit....touched? See the scene you'll get what I mean.

Then episode 6 came along. Cherrie comes along, and her and Husk play devil and angel on Anthony's shoulder the whole night. But there is something interesting about this- Angel never.... really stops Cherrie, nor explain why he would avoid drugs- Husk does. He ONLY explains himself when Cherrie confronted him about being so protective of Nifty. When Cherrie offer him the pills he doesn't goes full "I am sober now" cut and dry, instead he goes full "er....I dunno, I am tired. Maybe another time?" after Husk does the whole "I thought you were better than that" bit. Cherrie enables Angel- she clearly CARES about him, there is not doubt about that- but Hell is made with good intentions, validating his excesses and taking an active part on it is how they bond- and how his relationship with her makes him feel a bit better about himself, even when at the end of day it all comes crashing down (hello end of Addicted) and what is the first THING he smiles at after his confrontation with Valentino? "You did good, kid".

Ao in synthesis, Angel craves for validation in all and any way he can get it- regardless of how good the intentions of those giving it are. It either can be an validitation of his usual behavior (Cherrie) an validation of him wanting to better himself (Charlie, Husk) or just.... validation of his body as a whole (those weird sharks he ran to at ep4) it really depends of how much his mental state is on the gutter that day.

And then there is Valentino.

It's clear Angel's self Worth issues are not much better thanks to the way he is treated in and out of the studio- but, and knowing his familial relationship, it's doubtful they CAME from there, and it was an unfortunate result of it.

Valentino and the Vees pray on the vulnerable- that was DIRECTLY stated at ep2, and what is more vulnerable that a drug addict whose own family rejected? Sure Angel had been on Hell for a WHILE but his foundation was already shaky to begin with, he is street smart and posseses more common sense that some of his peers (literally the only one that stated they SHOULDN'T bring every psycho that tries to kill them to the Hotel lmao) but this need for Validation running deep on his core makes him the ideal pray for any asshole that is willing to drop a few "oh you are so pretty 💜"s his way until it's too late. How tragic would it be- to have the first person that validated him in a WHILE be the one that hurt him the most.

#i dunno where the fuck this came from. its just did #hazbin hotel #angel dust #huskerdust #ish #it still counts #because Husk:s validation of Angel is like the backbone of their ship a d it actually started

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teatual · 3 months

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hi! hope this is an alright question to ask, but i really really wanted to start adding IDs to my posts and stuff! im worried my IDs that ive done before are too long and detailed, so do you have any tips for ID writing? thank you in advance if you answer this!! =^.^=

QUESTIONS OF LOVE AND JOY

Tbh the biggest bit of advice I can give to anyone wanting to write IDs is that literally any ID is better than no ID even if you think it's too long. Genuinely just give it a shot and the more you do it the more you'll get a feel for it, just like any other skill!

If it's my own post, I start by identifying the type of image ("a screenshot of", "fanart of", "original character art of"), then identify the subject, then a quick verb or adjective about the subject. So

[ID: (image type) of (subject). (Subject) is (adjective and/or verb). End ID]

Yoinking my pfp: [ID: a PNG (image type) of a sticker sheet (subject) of holographic stars, moons and suns (adjective!). End ID]

Everyone who uses IDs will have different preferences for them. U could ask 20 people who require IDs for images about them and get 20 different answers. AFAIK the general consensus is that many prefer brief IDs because screen readers take yonks to read it out? But you do want to make sure you don't miss out relevant context.

IME the most accessible thing to do is write one directly under the original post (NO read more) and in plain text. small text (small text) or coloured text (coloured text) might or might not be picked up by screen readers but is gonna be difficult to read for many people with low vision, which is the main demographic IDs are used for.

uhh what else. There's a difference between an ID (image description under the post) and ALT text (embedded in the html of the image) and there's no single agreement on which is better (see paragraph 2) but sometimes a screen reader will skip the whole post if there's an image with no ALT text. Good practice is to put a very brief (1-2 sentences) in ALT text and the fuller ID under the post, like how my mutual's done it here.

There's more i could probably say but this is quite long whoops so linking some more posts about them for you here, here, here and here!

Also also if you want to make a huge difference to accessibility on your blog you can search through the notes of a post to see if there's already one (copy and paste it to your version if you want a different reblog chain! the writer won't mind!) and tag image posts with no ID as #undescribed or equivalent.

#💌#parbelle-time #long post #<- geniunely so sorry about how long that is please do ask for clarification or a summary if you need. whoops #accessibility #online accessibility #image descriptions #but YEAH THANK YOU FOR ASKING AND BEING INTERESTED MWAH

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 1 year

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Venus signs at different degrees 💕 pt 3

Requests 🌂 pt2

This picture is from Pinterest.

Aquarius venus at 0°

0° indicates that the energy of the sign in that specify planet intensifies. You evidence all those traits of the sign, in a very pure manner. This degree is “The Ingress” degree -“when the planet moves into a new sign”-, people born with this degree in a personal planet are considered new souls, they’re beginning something new, not lived before. Why do I recall it? Because they have to experience a large journey, full of errors and learning. In this case, everything that Venus and Aquarius rules. How we approach in relationships -attachment to others-, what give us pleasure, our ability to attract -and what we’re attracted to-, arts, gifts-how we spend money-, between others (Venus). It’s about to discover yourself in this field, and could be that this one take an importante role in your life. Aquarius: humanitarian, independent, original sign -I’m gonna pass this part because- OMFG I CALL YOU OUT STOP CHANGING FOR YOUR PARTNERS -too personal🧍-. A partner is someone that appreciates and loves you; would call you out every fucking error you do that you think it’s correct, would encourage you to change and progress, to not stay in one stage of mind and to LET YOU BE YOURSELF. Someone that accepts you, even if you’re too quirky, cringe and unique, no one can handle you -sure you think like that don’t deny it🌝-, with your fucking stubborn opinions and self. Since 11H rules Aquarius, it makes sense. 11 house stellium people have something called people-pleaser illness. With all your heart you wanted, want or would want to be part of a group, community. In this case, you change yourself to fit in what your partner would like to. THATS NOT THE WAY. Without counting that, they want you to appreciate -not appreciate, being on your knees- to their future-thinking self. They want you to admire their mindset so much. Their god complex is tremendous. Don’t lie to me, at least one time you -the ones that are reading this- have been attracted to that detached/aloof approach, nature. It’s their thing. That’s what call the attention -the hoes-. I imagine this placement as a “friends to lovers” quote: they need you to be one. If not either they’re going to put you first or their friends -most common-, no in between. It stressed me how tf they’re so logical, and with this degree GOD, it’s going to be VERY difficult if you want to have an emotional conversation with this person. They process every feeling into logical -unless they have a dominant water/fire chart-, and they expect you to act the same. I’m not gonna keep describing them🙄. If I do I’m gonna throw up a paragraph and call out all their things. Just be yourself, be fun, have fun, admire them, tell them how you love their mindset, that it’s superior, give them space and BOOM💥 you got them -just kidding but yes🤪😧-.

Leo venus at 5° 17° or 29° (leo degree)

If they love you, everyone will know. They would like to, to presume you, to people know you’re with them: showing their intentions and their dynamic towards and with you. Showing how they act and treat you normally. They’re fun to be with, they are popular -and if they’re not, people know about them or sympathize with because of their charismatic nature-. They are self-expressive. They want to be with you all day, but it’s their way to show you interest, that they want to know you more, they want to experience every moment with you. Because they’re SO LOYAL. And they’re the type of lover that catch you and never let you go. Unless you don’t value how they treat you -because of all the people they could easily get, they wanted YOU. They fucking know how to get what they want-. If you don’t point out how good they’re, if you don’t do an amount of effort to know them, to counteract the way they love you and treat you -couldn’t be in the same extrovert and enormous way they do, but in your way (in a nature and not forced)-. It’s really important to mention this: people constantly treat leo venus with a fake smile or an attitude that’s it’s pretended to counteract the fact that leo venus + leo degree are this spontaneous and charismatic people. It’s not nature -the way other people respond to them-. And people with this placement -I think- is so tired of others acting like that. So if you want them, show yourself, your true self, the way you naturally are, it doesn’t matter if you’re totally opposite compare to them. They would really appreciate someone being true to themselves and showing that they care about them without trying to copy their attitude -being people pleaser-. They need someone that loves them in their way, that’s how they need to be loved. But yes they need A LOT of expressions of approval coming from their partner. You’re never going to get bored. If you like going to multiple places, try new things…The little joys with them and the caring moments would be IT. And with double leo energy, it’s TREMENDOUS: you view the love they have to you million miles away. If you’re someone that can’t take them, just don’t. 😟

Scorpio venus at 10° or 22° (capricorn degree)

First of all, mommy?? daddy??? whatever you are just-no, im gonna control and stop myself-. Just 🥵-nah im joking but YOU ARE SO ATTRACTIVE. I would say “imo” but you give THAT aura, THAT vibe that make people fall/drool for you -but also depends on the personality of the person..-. Scorpio + Capricorn, the combination screams dominant. I’m gonna let you think about it… Their dedication towards their partner is incredible -and in a different way towards their loved ones-. Their commitment is in ANOTHER LEVEL. I warn you, if you love your freedom, your space, this people is not for you😄. They are SO controlling, they LOVE having control -they won’t admit it, they couldn’t even be aware of it-. They want to know where you were, who you talked to, every detail about your life before they met you. But before everything, with this capricorn degree, they’re cautious, they take their time getting to know you: they want to be 100 % sure/decided before they take the next step. They’re so brave for going full, 100% when it comes to someone they love. To protect them, to make everything they can to make sure they are safe, comfortable, in their best; to please their needs -and them-. Also they are going to present you to their family and friends, they’re showing you -they need their approval and them to know about you-. If they are with you, they’re fucking serious, they want to build something with you… I love that their way of loving is not forced: it’s shameless, showing all that necessity towards you and then acting all fearless. You would feel SO LOVED, but that love will be felt -as it’s so intense, it would come with hard feelings, such as negative and positive-. If they hurt you, your heart will burn and if you feel loved by them, you will fly -I don’t know if I’m making myself understand-. With this degree they want to be seen as they’re fine, that they are stable, they don’t want to be seen as vulnerable. This combo increases traits that both of these signs share: controlling, trust issues and slow-burn -another quote because it describes perfectly how I imagine a relationship that would benefit them and I have read a lot of fanfics these days-.There could be disagreements coming from jealous. Trust is key. Growing it -the trust- could be difficult and even when you have a healthy relationship with them, the jealous will always be present. They just want to keep you safe you know? 🤗😆Look it that way. But being serious, your perspective of them could change or open your mind viewing all the things this placement have to went through -and don’t view it like “😢oh poor baby🥺”. NO. They hate that and so do I. Embrace them, be proud of them, for how they could overcome those situations and now are here-. I’m going to tell you a secret and don’t tell them I told you🤫: you’re so fucking special to them, they don’t want anything to happen to you, NEVER. They don’t want you to feel even an aproximity of pain they had to felt. It would take time, so they can finally realize and accept that errors would happen, and that you must have your own experience to grow. So please, they love you and they could not be direct about it, but it’s their way to care about you. Don’t force them when it comes to express their worries/traumas, it’s SO difficult to them -also they will cut you off with their words and will be really cruel-. It’s okay to feel that way, just make sure you put an effort in getting better and let your partner -and the ones that surround you- know, let them know what you need: could be space, that’s difficult for you to talk about those topics, etc. Let them know.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

•This is based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

•English is not my first language.

•I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astro observations #astrology #astrologia #pinterest #leo venus #0 degrees #aquarius #aquarius placements #scorpio venus #capricorn #leo placements #venusian #venus #degree #astro placements #astro posts #astro notes #english is not my first language

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noisyghost · 13 days

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Ooo you fed me so well, I wasn’t even sure if I would get answers! So now I’m gonna try my hand at asking who bit Ark, what happened?! This is so juicy (rubbing my gremlin hands together).

oh rest assured, I will answer any and all OC related questions with overwhelming fervor and I will not be cool about it at all <3

The person that bit Ark was Josie! She's what the girlies like to call "a hot mess" <3

im so sorry this reply is so long. I started typing and kept failing to summarize things until it was. way too many paragraphs lmao. TLDR; Ark and Mira were attempting to rescue a woman named Josie who'd basically been manipulated into servitude by a very shitty guy. Josie also happens to be a werewolf. At some point during the attempted rescue, Josie had to watch someone she cared about a lot be killed, and she immediately wolfed out and attacked everyone around her, including Ark <3

I did not proofread this after typing it and it's 1am so i'm sorry if some things dont line up correctly, im stupid :)

Josie got bit when she was 18 on a camping trip with friends and it subsequently ruined her life. She survived bc a monster hunter killed the werewolf before it killed her, but she still got bit and ended up running away from home bc the aforementioned monster hunter told her to (it was either "run away and never come back" or "im killing you right now for real") everyone in her family thinks she died except her sister, Rose, who saw it happen and - upon never finding the body - spent the next 10 or so years looking for her.

Because Josie never really had anyone to explain to her what was going on, or support her in any way, she spent a lot of time alone, and subsequently fell into some pretty dark places. She eventually finds herself stuck in a monster fighting ring bc shes been conditioned to think that this is literally all shes good for. At the very least, she makes "good friends" with another werewolf girl stuck in the same spot as her named Cleo and theyre basically the only thing keeping each other alive for the next couple years.

At some point in all this, her sister Rose manages to track her down, but worried about her and her sisters safety, gets in contact with Mira (who is functionally the lynchpin holding the entire cities supernatural community together whether anyone knows it or not lmao) to ask for help rescuing her from the guy basically keeping her prisoner.

Aforementioned guy keeping these monster girls prisoner was named Dekker, and he was basically the scum of the earth. He dealt in monsters and magic and took advantage of a lot of peoples inability to get help (EX: 'you're a werewolf. what are you gonna do? who's gonna help you? no one. theyll just think you're crazy, and then youll end up killing innocent people because you're a monster and that's what you do). Josie and Cleo were his favorite girls and he showboated them around as both arm candy and bodyguards.

The thing with Mira and her work is that she likes to help people as best she can, but she's not like. A superhero with all the latest tech. She's a woman with a smartphone and a handful of 30 year old weirdo friends that share a group chat where someone will text "do we have plans this weekend?" and then someone will reply 3 days later with "i forgot what day it was". They're not exactly the justice league.

All they were trying to do was find Josie and rescue her for her sister. Mira has a lot of power and can do a lot of things, but this Dekker guy was notoriously slippery, and no amount of brute force was going to get them into one of these monster fights without notifying Dekker and giving him a chance to escape with the girls.

So, after tracking down one of these fights, the plan was to sneak in, find Josie and then convince her to leave with them. Originally, it was just supposed to be Mira doing all the legwork. But Ark, who was going thru a fucking crisis of identity at the time and also saw a lot of his own sister in Rose, essentially demands Mira lets him help under the guise of "I'm human, I'm way less likely to draw unwanted attention". Esp since Mira is a 6'4" goddess who attracts attention everywhere she goes lmao (Of note, they had several friends who also urged Ark to Not Volunteer To Do This, but outside factors made it unrealistic for this plan to work without getting caught with anyone other than Ark oops).

So Ark went in to find Josie and Mira was anxiously playing support, ready to rush in and save him if need be. And, to be fair, he did in fact find Josie! He told her who he was and who sent him here (Rose) and told her all she had to do was go find Mira and she would get her out. But Josie was skeptical and, frankly, afraid. She didn't believe that Mira had the power to keep her safe from Dekker, but she also didn't want to believe that her sister had been looking for her for 10 years because she was so disgusted with herself she would have preferred her sister just think she was dead!

However - Cleo, who was with Josie, did not share her fears. Cleo had had Enough, and wanted to run away with her. Josie panicked, afraid that if they ran, they were going to be hunted down and everyone involved with her was going to be killed.

So she ran away to a back room to calm down. Cleo went after her, and Ark kind of followed, but at a distance. Cleo did manage to get her settled a little, but the both of them got caught by Dekker, who harassed Josie into admitting that there was someone there trying to get them to leave, hoping he would respect the honesty. He did not.

To try and mitigate some of the flack, Cleo claimed she was the one the guy was talking to, so he would chew her out instead. Josie and Cleo both felt bad that they'd fucked this guy over, but if he was with someone as powerful as he claimed to be, he'd be alright, surely?

Apparently this was not the first time Cleo has been distant from Dekker recently. It was clear she wasn't as afraid of him as he thought she should be. So he made the executive decision to make an example out of her.

The thing about werewolves and the full moon is this: the full moon is the only time when a werewolf is forced to turn. However, they can technically turn whenever if you supply enough trauma. For Josie, that line was watching Dekker kill the only person she'd loved in the last decade.

He'd expected her to fall in line because that's what she'd been doing for the last few years. He didn't really know what Cleo had meant to her, so he hadn't expected any retaliation. But something snapped in her brain and everything kinda went red.

Josie's a particularly large werewolf - at least 13'; there's a reason she was a fighting champion - so when a beast like that gets let loose in a relatively small arena, things tend to go bad fast! She just blindly started tearing people apart (including Dekker, of course).

Ark had heard the muffled gunshots over the music and the crowd and he just went in on instinct, knowing immediately he was fucked regardless of what he did. Things escalated very quickly after that. It couldn't have been more than 30 seconds that passed inbetween Josie wolfing out and her clamping her teeth into his shoulder. And maybe it was just a moment of grief-stricken clarity, but she wavered just slightly - what the fuck was she doing? She hated him because he'd tried to help and if he'd never shown up, they would be fine. But Cleo had trusted him without a doubt, like she just intrinsically knew something about him. And no matter how much she hated him in that moment, It's not what Cleo would have wanted. Dekker was dead.

Josie gently let go of him, mostly sure it wouldn't matter because he'd die either way. She took Cleo's body and she fled. Mira saw Ark, and she saw Josie run - she could choose one or the other. She, of course, chose to help Ark, immediately struck with the guilt of knowing that he was here because she couldn't talk him out of it, and because she thought she'd be strong enough to keep him safe anyway.

The next couple weeks are a blur for everyone. Mira hates Josie and she hates Rose for coming to her in the first place. Ark hates himself, mostly, because he was tired of being the weak little human everyone had to dote on so he decided to get in over his head playing hero. Well, at least he didnt have to worry about the human part any more.

Josie buried Cleo in the woods. She marked the grave and visits often.

Anyway.

Would you believe me if I told you this very sad series of events somehow ends in Ark marrying a professional wrestler? Or Josie going on to become a lawyer with a house-husband who is also part demon? Because it somehow gets much, much weirder.

#shut up bug #not art #bug answers #absolutely deranged headworld i've built #'when does the guy with blue hair show up'#don't worry about it

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imawkwardlysoc · 1 year

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meet me in the pouring rain

Song- Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

Paring- bob floyd x bradshaw! gn! reader

Warning(s)- Just pure fluff! Also Nick and Carole are alive in this because I said so.

Wordcount- 1,039

Summary- Reader has always been a hopeless romantic and has always wanted to share a kiss in the rain.

“I’m so tired of dating!” I announced myself as I walked into my childhood home to see some of the Dagger Squad there.

“What happened?” Bradley handed me a bottle of beer.

“How come when I set the bar so low for these guys,” I sat down in the open spot on the couch next to Bob, who I greeted with a smile. “Like the bar is six feet under the ground, but they somehow manage to go under it. Like how? I literally lowered my standards for these dates.”

“How do you even find these guys?” Phoenix asked.

“Tinder,” I saw everyone wince as my answer. “I know. I know. A twenty eight year old still using Tinder.”

“Come on Chickadee, you’ll find your prince or princess charming one day,” Coyote gave me a smile.

“Hopefully,” I sighed and sipped on my beer. “I just want the same love that Mom and Dad have. It also doesn’t help that I’m a hopeless romantic with high standards. Just dropping everything you’re doing just to dance in the rain like Mom and Dad did. Where are they anyways?”

“Went on a triple date with Mav, Penny, Ice, and Sarah,” my brother replied.

“Ah, welp I’m gonna head to bed now,” I placed my empty beer bottle down. “Have a busy day tomorrow writing people’s memoirs.”

“Night, go romanticize those people’s decent lives,” Roo chuckled before giving me a kiss on my forehead.

Saying goodnight to everyone else, I headed upstairs to my room.

_______

“Hey, I’m gonna drop off lunch for your father, brother, and everyone else in the squad,” Mom poked her head in my room. “Wanna come with?”

“Sure,” I nodded my head. “Let me wrap this last paragraph up and change.”

Mom nodded her head and left my room. Wrapping up my last paragraph, I saved and closed my laptop before getting up from my chair. Putting on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a cardigan, I slipped on my glasses after fixing my hair. Grabbing the wrapped book, I slid it in my bag before throwing it over my shoulder. Walking down the stairs, I grabbed one of the trays and carried them to the car. With two trays of pasta, a tray of sweets, and a tray with veggies and fruits, we started to make our way to base.

Showing our IDs, we were let through and parked in one of the parking spots. Carrying the trays of food, we looked up at the sky.

“I have a feeling it’s going to rain,” Mom said.

“More like a sprinkle probably,” I shrugged my shoulders. “But if it does, I’m going to be so happy.”

“What’s with your love for rain? We barely get some down here,” Mom quizzed.

Rain has always felt calming to me. The tiny droplets hitting my window just makes me feel more relaxed. I’m also able to relax more while working on my writing if it rains. If I’m not working, the feeling of being wrapped up in a blanket on the couch while drinking a cup of hot chocolate and watching a movie feels just right. Also the thought of kissing your loved one and dancing with them in the rain is one thing that I want to experience.

“Is Y/N talking about her love for the rain again?” Rooster joked as we placed the trays of food down on one of the desks.

“And you are not getting any food,” I told my brother, jokingly.

“Y/N, Bradley, play nice,” Dad told us.

“Dad,” we wined.

We saw our parents let out a laugh and shook their heads in regret for deciding to have us. Soon all of us filled up our plates and ate.

“Oh, I have something for you,” I told Bob while reaching into my bag. “Here.”

“What is this?” His eyebrows furrowed as I handed him the book.

“Open it,” I answered.

Placing his empty plate down on the floor, he started to unwrap the book I got him. With a smile forming on his face, I looked at his reaction when he saw what I got for him.

“Wait, is this?” He looked at me.

“Yeah, all of the original stories and sonnets of Shakespear in his own words in one book. Also with no translations,” I nodded my head. “I finally got all of my stuff that I bought and shipped from my month-long trip in Europe.”

“Thank you,” Bob hugged me.

“It’s no problem,” I hugged back and smiled.

We talked for a couple of minutes before I heard the sound of raindrops hitting the ground. Getting up from my seat, I threw away my plate and walked out of the hanger into the rain, ignoring the looks everyone was giving me. Looking up at the sky with my arms wide open, I felt the droplets tap my skin in an irregular rapid pattern.

Soon, I felt someone’s arm wrap around me and spun me. Looking away from the sky, I saw Bob in front of me giving me a smile. Letting out a joyful laugh, the both of us danced ignoring the looks we’ve been getting from everyone. We both let out a laugh as it started to pour down on us.

“Hi,” I smiled as he dipped me.

“Hi,” he smiled back.

I gently placed my hand on his cheek and moved my head up to his lips. Bringing me back up from the dip, I wrapped my arms around his neck while his arms were wrapped around my waist. Our lips slowly moved in sync as I felt my stomach flutter. Detaching our lips, I saw the blushing on his face and I could feel mine.

“Wanna go on-?” We asked at the same time.

“Sure,” we answered.

*Meanwhile in the hanger*

Hangman- Did that just?

Coyote- Yeah, it did. All this time Bob had game?

Fanboy- That’s really romantic, I like it.

Goose- Look if he hurts them.

Rooster- Dad, Bob wouldn’t even hurt a fly. They’re in good hands.

Carol- Besides, they look happy with him. Also, doesn’t this look familiar?

*The couple looks at their youngest and the WSO*

Goose- Yeah, yeah it does.

A/N- It is cannon that Bob is a Speak Now and Lover stan and is a hopeless romantic. Change my mind. Also this is gonna be a mini series with two other songs so stay tuned!

#bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bradley rooster bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #carol bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #reuben payback fitch #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #Spotify

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deepspacedukat · 2 months

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The Only One - Part 7: Immoral Comfort

Welp...Part 7, here we are. This is the part I started way before I even wrote Part 1, because I was in a Mood™. I originally thought this was going to be a 3 part story, but it looks like it's gonna be something closer to 12. Tbh, I didn't expect anyone to be interested in this fic because it was such a niche, back-of-the-brain thought. So, thank you to everyone who's made it this far with me and taken the time to leave comments!

I know it's been forever since I updated this, but I hope there are at least a few people who are still interested. I had a very specific way that I wanted things to happen in this chapter and I was being a little too picky about the details, so my apologies for the delay! If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please let me know!

*Dominionese language pulled from @dominionese-resource and their Dominionese dictionary. If you want me to clarify where I got certain words or phrases, or how I tried (clumsily) to piece them together myself, please feel free to ask. I probably conjugated a few verbs incorrectly or structured things wrong in places, but I tried. Also, the signature mentioned was based off this post on their blog.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Weyoun (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Vorta/Human sex, fingering, jealous Dukat, drunkenness, romantic Weyoun, telepathic/empathic connection, mild existential crisis, crying, sorta hurt/comfort? but mostly just stress/comfort, spoilers for S6E4 "Behind the Lines."

~*~

Nearly a month passed from that long, odd day when I met Keevan and his men. I hated having to conceal part of my motives from Weyoun, but I didn’t have much of a choice. There was no way in hell I’d sit idly by while the Changelings took over my home. Major Kira, Odo, and a few others had begun a small resistance cell aboard the station, and so that they wouldn’t jeopardize my mission or I theirs, Kira had ordered me not to attend meetings. I was to keep my ears open and report to her as usual. She was allowing me to help but only in minor ways. Yes, it was important to cause chaos for the Dominion while they were occupying the station, but a position of influence and confidence like I currently held was insanely important for the intelligence gathering task that Starfleet had given me. Hell, I didn’t even know who all the members were.

That was definitely for the best. With the intimacy of the connection that Weyoun and I shared, my lack of knowledge kept myself and the rest of the resistance members safe. I’d have to be content helping in my own little way. Thus far, Dukat trusted me almost as much as Weyoun did, and Damar was slowly coming around to the belief that I wasn’t his enemy. All I had to do now was keep it up and find a way to contact Starfleet Command. Discreetly.

Seated beside each other one evening, Weyoun and I worked on our respective reports. I wasn’t particularly curious about the file he was reading until he picked up a stylus and wrote something. It was an odd group of symbols and marks that I’d never seen before. Without much thought about how rude it probably was, I tilted my head and watched how fluidly his fingers drew the stylus across the data PADD.

“What is that?” I asked quietly, and Weyoun gave me a perplexed look.

“A report about troop movements...?”

“Oh, not the report, I mean this,” I said pointing to the symbols he’d drawn out beneath the final paragraph. A look of understanding washed over him, and he gave me a small smile.

“That is my signature,” he answered simply, and I felt my eyes widen. “Have you not seen Dominionese written out before?”

“I’ve barely heard Dominionese, much less seen it. Is that really your name?” I asked unable to keep the wonder from my voice. I examined the markings a bit more carefully, wondering what each meant in order to form a name as precious as his.

Weyoun set the data PADD aside, picked up an empty one, and wrote the symbols a little neater this time. I watched the way his stylus glided over the PADD’s surface in practiced, fluid movements. When he was finished, he tilted the screen toward me to show me his handiwork, and I couldn’t stop a smile from splitting my lips. The more I looked at the symbols, the harder it became to shake the feeling that I’d seen something like them before.

The pendant! I pulled it out from beneath the collar of my uniform and sure enough, the symbols were similar. The engravings were in Dominionese.

“Weyoun, the pendant you gave me...what does it say?”

“Would you like me to tell you, or would you like me to teach you to read it yourself?” He asked with a twinkle in his eyes, and I felt myself perk up at the implication.

“Would you? I-I mean, are you willing to teach me? I know you’re busy with the station and the war, so I understand if you don’t have the time–” He cut me off with a quick kiss and set the PADD aside as he took my hands in his.

“My dear, I would be honored to teach you the language of your people,” Weyoun murmured. “I’m sure you’ll take to it quite easily. You’ve always been a fast learner, at least from what I’ve seen.”

‘My people.’ Both of us knew they weren’t anything of the sort after what they’d done, but I still appreciated his sentiment. Besides, the hope that he held about a potential reconciliation between myself and the Changelings, while utterly futile, was also incredibly sweet. After all that he'd been through, the fact that he still had hope was just a testament to the strength that the Founders chose not to see in their Vorta followers.

Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, I looked up at the gorgeous purple-eyed being on my sofa. How in the stars did I get so lucky?

Purple blush spread quickly across his cheeks, and Weyoun let out a shy little laugh. Right, the feelings. It had become more natural over the duration of our relationship for us to share our emotions through the strange telepathic connection we'd been granted, but there were still moments where it caught one or both of us off guard.

"As much as I wish I could keep you all to myself tonight and demonstrate exactly how much I adore you, didn't you say you were meeting a friend tonight?" His question pulled me from my reverie, and I blinked in comprehension.

“Computer, what time is it?”

“The time is eighteen-thirty hours,” it responded, and I got to my feet. Shit, he was right, and I was going to be late at this rate.

“Meeting Damar again?” Weyoun asked as he stood, too, and grasped my waist lightly. When I nodded my head, he gave me a gentle smile. “I’m so glad you’re making more friends. I know you were already acquainted with some of the Bajoran officers, but knowing that Keevan and Damar along with some of their officers have become close to you...I’m overjoyed! To tell you the truth, I thought you might feel isolated here given the personnel changes. I-I thought...you might regret staying.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I wrapped my arms around the Vorta’s neck.

“Well, I still feel a little out of place at times, but there are a few people here who’ve been kind to me," I murmured placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. "For the record, you make staying here worth it. As long as I have you, I won't regret leaving Starfleet."

I knew this was only temporary - that as soon as the Federation regained control of the station I'd be back to being a Starfleet officer - but I was going to make the most of this while I could. Sure, I still had my mission and a very important job to do, but I wasn't about to waste my opportunity to soak in Weyoun's presence while I could.

A beautiful, joyful smile stretched his lips, and he pressed his forehead lightly against mine.

"Good, because running this station and protecting Bajor for the Dominion...it would be mind-numbingly dull without you, my dear." That brought a smile to my own lips, but probably for different reasons than he would've anticipated. The Founders would likely have blown a gasket hearing that one of their Vorta toys was bored with the job they'd been created to perform. If that wasn't proof that the Vorta were capable of being so much more than the Changelings thought, I didn't know what was. "Don't be late, now. I'll be here when you get back."

I nodded my head quietly and gave him a tender, parting kiss before making my way toward Quark's.

The Bajoran station was humming with the partially-exhausted crowds that naturally accompanied the end of a shift. Used to the tired throng of people either going for a meal or heading back to their quarters, I used a few of the back corridors - less-traveled areas, of course - to make up some time.

Rather quickly, I found myself slipping into the doorway to the Ferengi's bar and zeroing in on the seat that was held for me out of habit by Dukat's right hand man. Without preamble, I plopped myself on the padded stool and gave a polite nod to the Cardassian in question.

"I was wondering when you'd get here. Usually you're early," Damar said as he brought his glass of kanar to his lips. He seemed in unusually high spirits tonight. Either something minor and gossip-worthy had happened, or I should be very concerned about the state of the war.

"There was a lot of foot traffic tonight. Apparently everyone decided this was the night to be in my way," I said with a dismissive giggle. Quark caught my eye and nodded in acknowledgement. "You look like the cat that got the cream, Glinn. What's got you in such a good mood?"

The Ferengi bartender set my drink in front of me with a wink - I knew for a fact that he flirted with all the patrons who wouldn't kill him in the hopes that he'd get a bigger tip - but before he could leave, Damar's hand landed on his forearm.

"Anything the Lieutenant drinks tonight is on me. This is a celebration," the Glinn said with a smug smirk. Looking at him in surprise, I lifted my glass of kanar in salute.

"Why, thank you, Glinn. If I may ask, what's the occasion?" He tapped his glass against mine, and after we both took a generous swallow - clearly not his first of such this evening - he turned to face me on his stool.

"My impending promotion!" He said puffing up his armor-covered chest.

Uh oh.

"Wait a minute," Quark cut in as he polished a glass, "you started a fight in my bar and they're making you a Gul? What kind of way is that to run an army?"

Weyoun had mentioned the fight only a couple of days before. Apparently, it had been between Cardassian officers and Jem'Hadar soldiers. Quark's concern was completely valid. How the hell did that track?

"Dukat wasn't happy about what happened," Damar started refilling his glass and topping mine off, even though I'd only taken a single sip. "I had to find a way to make it up to him."

"I hope it was something big," Quark chimed in.

"Must've been a hell of a blowjob," I teased, and the tipsy Cardassian let out a raucous laugh.

"Nothing so personal. Let's just say it will change the course of history," he said before draining his glass once more. Quark's eyes met mine. This reeked of trouble.

"As a businessman," the Ferengi started, refilling the Glinn's glass himself, "I'm very interested in the course of history. This one's on me."

Damar accepted the drink with a nod and a raised glass.

"That's very kind of you, Quark, but I can't talk about it." Down the hatch went that drink, and I sipped slowly at mine as I formed a plan. Quark looked over at me, and sighed as he grabbed a third glass.

"Of course, I understand. Have another," he offered, refilling Damar's drink, topping up mine, and pouring one for himself. I'd never imbibed heavily before, but there was a first time for everything.

Making our way to Kira's quarters while intoxicated was more difficult that I'd anticipated. Not only did I have to keep myself upright, but I had to try and steady Quark as well. The dirty bastard's hand roamed several times, but a threat to remove them at the wrist seemed to sober him up just enough for him to process how bad of an idea it had been.

We were practically dragged into the Major's quarters when we got there, having seemingly stumbled our way into a meeting of her resistance group. So much for me not knowing who was involved. She'd clearly bet on the probability of me forgetting the night's events by the morning, otherwise she wouldn't have let me in at all.

After several rambling attempts at conversation, Quark got a little agitated, and Kira tried to drag him back on course.

"How can I relax when there are thousands of Jem'Hadar ships are sitting on the other side of the wormhole, waiting to come through?" He slurred, and Jake shook his head, trying to placate him.

"Don't worry about it. They're stuck there." He sounded so confident - so naïvely certain.

"Noooo, Jake. They're coming," I said, clutching at his arm as if I could make the young man understand. "If Damar was telling the truth, they'll be able to get through soon."

"What are you talking about?" Kira asked, and together we managed a somewhat intelligible, if slurred, explanation of what happened. Odo and Kira shared a look, and I was ordered to head back to my quarters.

How I got back, though, was a mystery to everyone, myself included. All I recalled the next morning was the vague impression of Weyoun helping me into clean clothes and letting me cuddle him until I fell asleep.

I really hoped that I'd dreamed saying how pretty he was so many times. He deserved to know he was handsome, but I didn't exactly want to sound like such a moron when conveying that to him.

Gentle lips against my cheek brought me back to consciousness in the morning, and I burrowed farther into my lover's embrace. My head ached and everything felt dry and scratchy and too loud.

No wonder I heard so many people warning about how strong kanar was. If this is how it felt the morning after, I was quite happy never to taste that syrupy shit again.

"Come, my love. It's time to get up," Weyoun crooned in a gentle, careful whisper. An involuntary groan escaped me, and he ran his fingers softly through my hair. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts. I have something that'll help, though."

"I don't think even your gorgeous cock can fix this," I rasped as I forced myself to sit up - an utterly monumental task in that state.

"As honored as I am that you view me as a potential cure to many ailments, I was talking about this," he said reaching for a hypospray sitting on the bedside table. "It'll take away the majority of your symptoms."

I tried to nod my head, but it just ended with me wincing and lying back down. A quiet hiss sounded against my upper arm, and a few moments later, the pain melted away as if Weyoun's fingers trailing over my scalp had behaved like a poultice, absorbing the Evil Hangover straight from the source.

Featherlight kisses landed on my closed eyelids, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sensation.

"I take it you and Damar had fun last night?" He teased, and I groaned.

"For your own health, never ever try to match drinks with a Cardassian soldier." I cautioned, but before I could say more, the comm system chimed.

"Dukat to Weyoun. There is an urgent meeting in thirty minutes. Bring the Lieutenant with you. She'll want to be a part of this." He didn't wait for a response, simply stated the message and cut the line.

A long-suffering sigh escaped my lover's lips, and he fixed me with a stare. Those soft, warm purple eyes of his filled with a playful sort of calculating stare. He then picked up a glass of water and gave me a wink.

"Computer, deactivate Universal Translator in this room," he ordered, and my eyebrows shot upward. The acknowledging chirp from the computer stirred my curiosity. Holding the glass of water between us, he pointed at it and murmured a single word. "Na."

I blinked, and he, noticing my blankness, smiled and repeated the word before gesturing a hand at me. I repeated the word, still mildly confused, but it pleased him, and just like that something clicked.

Apparently, this was my first lesson in how to speak Dominionese. My pronunciation had been right on the money, but I didn't know if he meant the cup itself, or what was in the cup.

"Na?" Reaching forward, I tapped the glass as I asked, then I dipped a fingertip into the liquid, "or is this na?"

A look of comprehension flickered across his face, and he touched the liquid as I had, repeating the word confidently. He had me say it once or twice more, and offered me the glass with a cheerful little kiss on the forehead.

As we dressed for our meeting with Dukat, Weyoun tapped items of clothing and various objects around the room, giving me their names in his language and having me repeat them until my pronunciation was satisfactory. By the time that the translator came back online, I couldn't help but feel proud that I'd absorbed so much while recovering from a hangover.

The Changeling standing in the wardroom sent a bolt of anxiety rocketing through me. Why was a Founder here? Wasn't it enough for the Vorta to keep their people informed? Odo stood at her side, looking confused, a little suspicious, and...was he happy? I supposed that he must be. After all, he wasn't the one who'd been exiled from ever returning to their homeworld. The slightly guarded yet curious glances he threw her way said more than words ever could.

How long had she been on the station? How deeply into him had she sunk her claws?

I had my answer when I glanced at the table and noted that Major Kira was conspicuously absent. For the safety of the resistance and the Federation's future, I had to assume that Odo had been compromised.

"Founder, it is an honor," Weyoun said sinking into a low bow at my side. His hand still rested squarely in mine, but I didn't copy his actions. Lifting my chin in defiance, I merely looked at her as her hawk-like eyes watched us - or rather, me. She didn't seem to even notice Weyoun, choosing instead to stare at me.

"We meet again, child of Meris," she said, but I just lifted an eyebrow. What sort of response could I possibly give after she banished me? I'd chosen Weyoun over my people - a decision I could never regret - but I had no intention of discussing my logic with one so cruel that she could not comprehend that what she'd almost done was wrong in the extreme. "Have you nothing to say to your kin?"

Glancing around the room in faux contemplation, I shook my head blankly.

"I see no kin here. Besides, the last time we spoke, you made your opinion on my existence quite clear." I was proud of how calm and logical I sounded despite the anger boiling within me.

"Perhaps our opinions of you have changed," she said taking a few steps toward me. Looking away from her, I spotted Dukat and was, for once, grateful for his presence.

"What did you call us here for, Gul?" The smirk that met my inquiry sent a shiver down my spine. "I trust it wasn't just for this...reunion?"

"Come, Lieutenant. Have a seat by me. We have a breakthrough to discuss," he called, and I did as he suggested. Pulling Weyoun gently along, I ensured that the Founder wasn't given the chance to sit on either side of me. All the meeting gave me were specifics on the plan to remove the minefield. Nearly everything Dukat and Damar said were things I'd heard from the latter the night before, and I forced myself to act surprised.

I caught Damar looking at me a few times, doubtless trying determine how much he'd said the night before and how much I remembered. When I gave him an innocent smile and acted engrossed in Dukat's speech as if it was all new, he seemed to relax.

Very well. Let the drunkard believe that he'd averted a crisis. The more his people underestimated their opposition, the easier it would be to catch them off their guard.

"You will keep me informed," the Founder said rising to her feet as if she was a queen. Without waiting for an answer from Gul Dukat, she turned to Odo. "Come. I wish to speak with you alone."

I expected him to toss out an abrasive comment, but instead, he followed her like an obedient puppy.

What the hell was going on?

Before I could say a word to Weyoun, though, the Founder tossed a glance over her shoulder.

"Come, Weyoun. We require your service," she called not waiting for an answer as she swept out of the room. He gave me an apologetic kiss on the cheek before rushing after the pair of Changelings, and then I was left alone with the two Cardassians.

"Well, well, that wasn't exactly what I was expecting," Dukat murmured, and I let out a heavy sigh. I still had the edge of a headache from this morning's hangover. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the headrest of my seat. "Oh dear. You do seem stressed."

It was all I could do to keep my eyelids from snapping open when one of his large hands rested on my thigh, squeezing the muscles there in what I guessed was supposed to be a soothing gesture. I hummed low in my throat - the sound's meaning was one that I let him interpret on his own.

"Did I wear you out last night?" Damar asked with a huff of laughter, and Dukat let out a scandalized gasp. I could imagine just how wide his eyes had grown as he looked between his officer and me.

"Don't tell me you were with another Cardassian!" He sounded sufficiently playful, but still just jealous enough to bring a smile to my lips. Good. I had him hook, line, and sinker.

"Only for a drink," I replied, and Damar took that as his cue to leave. The door hissed closed, leaving me truly alone with Dukat. Why shouldn't I use this as an opportunity to deepen his trust in me?

"No wonder you look so tired," Dukat murmured sounding much closer than before. His other hand touched my forehead and his lips met my cheek. "Poor girl. I can massage that headache away if you like...?"

Letting out a harsh, skeptical laugh, I finally opened my eyes and tilted my head to face him.

"And trust your hands not to wander? Forgive me, Gul, but I've heard stories of your dalliances during the Occupation–"

"Are you truly telling me that after all we've been through over the years, you wouldn't enjoy a little...dalliance of our own? Especially considering that your pretty little Vorta toy will likely be busy serving the Founder's wishes while she's aboard. We wouldn't want you to grow lonely, would we? I could keep you entertained," he challenged as he skimmed his fingertips down the side of my face. After seeing the Founder in the flesh and how unquestioningly obedient Weyoun was to her, suddenly Dukat didn't seem so bad.

Relativity, indeed. Tilting my head, I skimmed my lips ever-so-lightly over the palm of his hand and looked up at him - a nice touch, if I do say so myself.

"You wish," I breathed, and a devilish smirk stretched his lips. Oh, I was playing with fire.

"Would such a wish really be so surprising?" The Gul's voice was low and intimate - soft, as though he thought that was what I needed.

I did. I needed gentleness quite badly. Just not from him.

"Coming from you? Not in the slightest." I put as much condescension in my tone as I dared, hoping he'd take it as a clumsy attempt at Cardassian-style flirting. A raspy chuckle vibrated deep in his throat, prompting me to get to my feet.

"You're not leaving so soon, are you?"

"I should. After all, Weyoun–"

"–will be busy with the female Founder and Odo for quite some time. You are free to do as you wish," he argued, but I shook my head quietly.

"I have duties."

"You don't. I took the liberty of having Major Kira clear your schedule for the day." I froze, and obviously didn't hide my surprise well, because he continued in a more amused tone. "Initially, I believed that you'd want the time for a family reunion, but given your reaction to your long-lost relation, you could use the time for something more...enjoyable. Improving interstellar relations between Bajor and Cardassia, perhaps...?"

He stood and moved in front of me, tilting my chin up so that eyes met his.

"There's no need to be coy," he whispered. "Obviously, we both want this..."

"You want me?" I asked, attempting to sound as innocent as I could while my hand slid up to his neck ridge. He practically moaned out a 'yes,' and I grabbed the section of his ridge that Kira had taught me was a weak point for Cardassians. Dukat let out a pained hiss, but the delighted smirk on his face spoke more of arousal than discomfort. "Then work for it. I'm not one of your comfort women from the previous occupation. If you want me, then you need to earn the privilege. Understood?"

"Oh yes, Lieutenant." Though strained, he still managed to sound flirtatious. I released him and spun on my heel. Sparing him a single glance over my shoulder as I walked out, I noted the tent in his uniform trousers.

This was a mess. Everything was a mess. If the Federation didn't retake the station soon, the resistance might be in shambles. Damar was clearing the wormhole, Odo was wrapped around the Female Founder's little finger, and Dukat's actions today might have finally convinced Major Kira that I wasn't worth trusting...that I'd truly betrayed the Federation and Bajor. Besides that, I might have to close my eyes and do something I'd very much regret with Dukat.

Guilt wound through me every time that I acknowledged how much I'd encouraged his attraction. I knew I needed information for the Federation and the Resistance, and I needed the Gul to trust me, but was flirting with him even the right move considering everything at stake?

I had no idea how long I was stuck in my thoughts, but at some point that evening, I became vaguely aware that Weyoun had returned to our quarters. His voice washed gently over my ears, but I didn’t hear a word. My eyes remained lost in the stars just outside the window, and my arms had been crossed protectively around my middle for goodness only knew how long.

What could I do to stop the minefield being removed when I hadn't even found a way to communicate with Starfleet Command? I mean, what had I been doing all this time besides playing house with a Vorta?

A wave of concern flowed from Weyoun to myself through our odd link as he sensed my emotions, but I didn’t move a muscle. Even when his hands took up careful residence on my shoulders, I couldn’t bring myself to do more than blink.

“Something is wrong, isn’t it?” Weyoun’s smooth, concerned voice asked from behind me as I stared out into the oblivion of space. He could read people better than they could read themselves, and I was certainly no exception, not that I was making it particularly difficult for him at the moment. Even if we hadn't been empathically linked, it wouldn't have been hard to see how wilted I felt. “You’ve been quieter than usual since you returned from that late night with Damar, and now with Founder here... You’ve been preoccupied. I realize that you don’t want me to think of you as the offspring of a deity, but...I live to serve you in whatever ways you may require, my love. What can I do to help you?”

I felt too vulnerable and too closed off all at once, like a frayed wire being strangled by what little remained of its casing. Who else could I say anything to? Who else cared about what I said, even if this all turned out to be a ruse - a long game that he'd been playing so patiently - in the end?

Weyoun was the only one. I couldn’t trust anyone on this station, not anymore, not where it was important. Hell, I shouldn’t even fully trust him, but what other choice did I have?

For this...could I risk it just this once? He thought of Changelings as gods. He regarded the being who was my biological father as a god, and I myself as a demigod of sorts. Would this be taking advantage of the programming the Founders had included in his genetic makeup? Would he feel obligated to listen to me drivel on without regard for his own feelings despite my protests that I wanted only his honesty?

When I turned and my eyes met his, I felt something in me break. Weyoun looked so worried. Precious man. His almost neon purple eyes were moist as though he were on the verge of tears like I was - he truly was distressed over my current state. I knew my own eyelids were most likely puffy from the tears I’d shed - the emotions threatening to spill over again at any moment - and I knew that he’d have noticed that by now. He was much too clever for his own good.

A low whisper of my name brought me out of my thoughts enough to notice that the Vorta’s brow had furrowed just a little bit more than before.

“Please...it pains me to see you like this. I beg you, please let me help,” he said barely above a whisper, and whatever cracks had formed in my defenses extended far enough that I could no longer keep up my flimsy facade. My eyes burned, my vision blurred, and tears began rolling down my cheeks. A flicker of fear passed over Weyoun’s features and through our bond, and although I wanted to comfort him, all that escaped me was a quiet sob. There wasn’t much space left between us to begin with, but he still stepped forward as much as he could and lifted his hands, allowing them to hover on either side my face as if he was afraid to touch me. “H-How do I help you?”

In answer, I reached out and wrapped my arms around him. Pressing my face quietly against his shoulder, I felt his own limbs envelope me without hesitation - one around my middle and one around my upper back - holding me close to him. Weyoun was nearly trembling from how fiercely and protectively he was embracing me.

“I’m here,” he murmured against my temple in that soft, comforting voice. This time instead of it being filled with steady lies as it so often was in meetings, I could hear it wavering with emotion just as it had so long ago on that Dominion ship and when he found that I'd remained on the station despite its occupation. “You are not alone. You have me; you always will. I promise. No matter what happens with the Dominion, the Alpha Quadrant, the Gamma Quadrant...you will always have me. I know what it is to be alone, and I swear you never will be again.”

Safe in his arms, I found myself no longer caring whether this was just a ploy or not, because I so desperately wanted to believe that I wouldn’t be alone anymore. He'd been here, but I hadn't allowed him to see just how stressed I was trying to toe the line between the Dominion and Bajor. I wanted to believe he was telling the whole truth. Just this once.

Just this once.

So I nodded my head against his shoulder and simply let myself be comforted by his embrace, by his promise, and by this one act of kindness, dangerous though it might eventually prove to be.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to get out around my stuttered breaths. I was. He didn’t deserve to have someone sobbing all over him for no reason. He was the one who needed kindness, especially after the way I’d seen that Founder treating him. He wasn't some pet for them to order around. He deserved so much more kindness than he was being shown.

Yet he was the one showing it to me. Whether incited by genuine concern or by his programmed devotion to the Founders - and myself by extension - Weyoun had never been anything less than sweet and gentle and courteous to me.

But how could I allow a shred of doubt into my head? Just thinking back to the first time I'd felt the extent of his love for me, I remembered how different his emotions had been compared with those he'd felt for the beings who had cloned him.

Shame wove hot and heavy through the ravages of my sorrow.

“You of all people have no reason to apologize to me,” he said before pressing his lips against my forehead in a tender kiss. “What could you possibly have to be sorry about? You have never been unkind to me, you’ve never hurt me. You’ve only ever shown me love and compassion. You are the most remarkable person I’ve ever encountered.”

“You have better things to do than put up with someone crying all over you,” I muttered daring to tilt my head back enough to look up into Weyoun’s eyes. He looked almost startled at my statement.

“My dear, you act as though you are a burden to be borne. I assure you, nothing is further from the truth,” he murmured in a pained voice. One of his hands lifted and cupped my cheek. His thumb skimmed gently across my skin wiping away the last of my tears. Leaning into his touch, I let my eyelids flutter shut. I knew I shouldn’t be this open with him - he was the Female Founder’s puppet while she was aboard the station, after all - but I couldn’t help it. Who else could I possibly be vulnerable with? Considering the cruelty and violence of this war surrounding me on a daily basis, was it really so wrong to enjoy a simple moment of self-indulgent intimacy? I raised my hand to cover Weyoun’s and turned my head just far enough to kiss his wrist.

It wasn’t even close to an adequate thank you for all he’d done for me, but it was all I could manage. I knew he’d understand - he always understood me with a startling degree of accuracy, even when I couldn’t express myself correctly or fully.

“Why do you think so little of yourself?” He asked in barely more than a whisper as his eyes slid from our hands to meet my gaze. “You are lovely and kind to everyone, even those like me who don’t deserve it–”

“But you do deserve it. You always have, Weyoun, no matter how the Founders may have treated you,” I said quietly looking up into his eyes. He blinked owlishly at me, and I leaned in, kissing his cheek. “Can you still not see that after all this time, darling?”

“I suppose I...still have a bit of trouble separating myself from the way the Founders created us,” he admitted as a lavender blush colored his cheeks. “Forgive me–”

“Hush. There’s nothing to forgive,” I promise coaxing him into resting his forehead against mine. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I knew his excellent Vorta hearing would still register what I had to say. “We are, always have been, and always will be equals.”

“I believe you,” he murmured as his hands took up a timid grip on my waist. He took a slow, deep breath and as he exhaled, I rested my hands gently on his shoulders. Nothing had technically changed - the war was still raging, my father was still a missing murderer, and Dukat was still playing a tyrannical, slutty version of king of the castle with the station.

And yet...there in Weyoun’s arms, such a fundamental shift had occurred that it felt as though I suddenly could take on the universe. Perhaps it was a part of the Vorta coding which bound them to the Founders that made me feel reassured as I stood there, his own confidence in me bleeding over and restoring my own.

Or perhaps there was another explanation. The relationship that had been developing between us had shown no cracks until Dukat tried to worm his way between us. Even now, I was acutely aware that the Gul had plenty of reasons to try and manipulate me on that front. Why had I ever allowed myself to listen to a single word he said? Was I so afraid of losing Weyoun that I assumed it was just my luck that I would?

I had doubted myself and my judgment regarding him for so long that I suppose I didn’t feel like I deserved to be loved with the kind over unwavering affection Weyoun had shown me. Even as that thought crossed my mind, doubts filtered through from my subconscious that I shouldn’t have allowed myself to take this much liberty with his affection as it was - that I was weak for doing so.

But I needed him, and I loved him. Weyoun had assuaged my fears on that front so many times before, but was that justification enough for continuing?

“Such chaos thrust upon one person... Let me be your shielding."

The soft earnestness surrounding Weyoun's words had me crumbling in his arms. Almost without conscious thought, I tilted my head and caught his lips in a kiss that I hoped said all the words I couldn't muster. My lover didn't hesitate to return the gesture, kissing me with such tenderness that it took my breath away.

Slowly, naturally, our movements gained momentum, becoming hungrier and more desperate by the second. Just as he'd done after my encounter with Keevan, Weyoun easily took control. Something urgent and lurid passed between us, and in a blur of discarded clothing, we fell into our bed.

We'd experimented with each other over the time we'd been together, but we hadn't quite taken that final step. With his fingers pumping between my legs and mine caressing the base of his length and the folds of his slit, he whispered in my ear.

"I want to make love to you. Please, I'm ready. I'm aching for you, my love. I've dreamt of you so many times..."

I couldn't possibly deny him. Why would I even want to after all this time? I loved him, and I would never pressure him into doing more than he was comfortable with. I would, however, be lying if I said that I'd never imagined what our first time together would be like.

My imagination paled in comparison to the sweet sounds he made as he entered me for the first time. His name was a prayer on my lips, just as mine was on his. Our pleasure was reflected, doubled, then increased exponentially by the bond that formed between our minds. We merged so completely that I couldn't tell where Weyoun began and I ended.

The wet slap of skin-on-skin sounded less obscene and more...restorative. We both needed this. Our reasons might have been different, but our desires, our love, stemmed from the same source.

When he finally spilled within my trembling body, tears dampened both our faces. Weyoun's teeth had left bite marks down my neck, and I'd left a few scratches down his back.

Aside from murmured declarations of love between kisses, we didn't speak. What could we say? What could possibly need to be said so desperately that either of us would risk disturbing the peaceful, content atmosphere that had settled over us like a blanket?

Gentle touches, cuddles, and affectionate looks carried us delicately into dreamland that night.

The next morning as I blinked hazily into awareness, I thought the Vorta was still asleep. Trailing my fingers ever-so-softly through his mussed, silky, black hair, I couldn't help but smile. He was supposed to be unsettling to the Dominion's enemies and charming in equal measure, but all I could see was how gentle he was. I knew he had it within him to be manipulative, charming, and underhanded all in a matter of moments - that was how the Changelings had cloned him to be - and I'd witnessed it. But there was something satisfying about seeing the head of station's occupying force curled up like a kitten in my arms.

"That feels good." The words breezed from his lips, carried on his breath as easily and lightly as a feather. I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips.

"I won't stop, then," I whispered, and he let out an appreciative hum.

"I meant it, you know. Every Weyoun since our very first iteration over a hundred years ago has seen your face in our dreams. Seeing you on the Defiant...I recognized you immediately."

My hand slowed atop his scalp. My lover's voice was low and nervous, as if he was afraid I'd mock him or accuse him of lying. Instead, I watched as he lifted his head from my chest and looked up at me with wide, gentle eyes.

"But...that was so long ago..." I was confused, definitely, but I wanted to hear him out. Across our bond, I could feel tension, as if Weyoun was taking a chance saying any of this.

"My very first memories are images of you from prior iterations' dreams. They all saw your face so frequently that they knew you were someone vitally important...that the Founders were allowing us visions of a blessing they planned to give us. The fourth Weyoun...he'd almost lost hope the day you met him," he murmured. "Only the important memories - the ones that stand out - are encoded for future iterations to retain. You...your face has survived every activation."

A lump rose in my throat. How was that possible? I'd heard of people having visions they thought were from their deities - hell, even Captain Sisko had visions from the Bajoran Prophets - but I knew for a fact that the Founders weren't gods. Even they couldn't predict the future like that. Otherwise, I had no doubt that they would've stopped my father from mating with a Human.

"In the dreams, you called out to me...said my name...promised you'd find me no matter what. I've never told anyone this before, but in my darkest hours...the moments where my faith in the Founders was at risk of falling apart, I clung to the image of your face hovering over me...and it strengthened me," Weyoun admitted in a whisper as he cupped my cheek, gliding his thumb over my skin. "I-I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Unable to make my tongue work, I shook my head and kissed his lips. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? What could I say about that revelation?

I hadn't even begun to sort through the messy tangle of emotions in my chest when the comm chimed.

“Damar to Weyoun.” Of course, there was never a calm, quiet moment on this station, even with it under the Dominion's thumb. The Vorta sighed quietly, the warmth of his breath caressing my skin as softly as his lips had in the wake of our intimacy.

“What is it?” He asked quietly, sounding more reluctant than I’d ever heard him. He didn’t move away from me any more than I did from him. If anyone had been watching, they’d doubtlessly assume that our nude bodies were stuck together beneath the blanket by some immutable, unseen force.

“You’re needed in Security. Now.” The Cardassian sounded smug, a fact which never seemed to bode well in his company. "We've just arrested a saboteur. The Ferengi bartender's brother, Rom."

~*~*~

Dominionese:

Na = water

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee @weyounthevorta

#deepspacedukat fic #half-changeling!reader #Weyoun 5 #Weyoun 5 x Reader #lieutenant!reader #established relationship

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asetoblog · 4 months

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A Seto psychological assessment

So, I said I was gonna do this and now I finally did it. Behold, a Seto Kaiba psychological assessment about interpersonal relationships! (I'm gonna try to make this as simple as possible for everyone <3)

I'm gonna consider original dub Seto ONLY, since the american version totally fucked his character up.

ATTACHMENT STYLE

According to Ainsworth and Bowlby's studies there are 4 Attachment styles:

Anxious/Preoccupied

Avoidant/Dismissive (ding ding ding!)

Disorganized/Fearful

Secure

What are Attachment styles (or Internal Working Models)? In children, we can find that they behave in different ways according to the presence or absence of their parents in an environment: anxious children have a deep fear of being abandoned or left alone so they act really upset or even cry when their parents are not around; avoidant/dismissive children usually hate to depend on others and don't care if they are left alone (they like minding their business); disorganized children are harder to understand since they act fearful towards their parents but at the same time they want to be close to them; finally secure children have a healthy relationship with their parents.

I think you've already noticed which one fits Kaiba the most: of course he's gonna be an Avoidant child!

(Mind that I think his attachment style CHANGED after he and Mokuba got adopted by Gozaburo, so there's gonna be a paragraph about their biological parents' death, because I think Seto's behaviour was much different before the whole orphanage and adoption thing)

The attachment style of a child is of course going to define their behaviour as adolescents and adults. The attachment styles of teenager/adults are pretty much the same and now I'm gonna list any behaviour that confirms Seto's attachment (Avoidant/Dismissive): as the Adult Attachment Interview (the AAI, a psychological test) suggests, avoidant people tend to belittle or even ignore their own emotions concerning their relationships with anyone (Seto openly admits to love and care about Mokuba and no one else, but even this happens rarely in the series and when it does he's pretty much always ALONE, when no one can hear or see him. It happens only once in Noah's Arc in the anime, when he gives us that ssweet face in front of Yugi and Co). The fact that he avoids his emotions about relationships and attachment with caregivers is also held up by the fact that he never brings up his parents, nor even with Mokuba. In Noah's Arc only Mokuba says something about them; Seto doesn't answer. Avoidant people also tend to devaluate their attachment with their caregiver (in this case we're gonna consider Gozaburo as the ��caregiver/parent” because he gave our boy big trauma): if I remember correctly, Seto says he stopped calling Gozaburo “father” at one point. HOWEVER, the rest of the Avoidant assessment doesn't really fit Seto's behaviour, because he remembers very well what Gozaburo did to him (being physically and psychologically abusive) and doesn't idealize him as a good parent (which is what Avoidant people tend to do), so I think he's got also a little bit of Preoccupied and Secure characteristics in him (I'm gonna talk about this in a sec) and I believe it's because he's got a little of the positive influence of his biological parents in him AND he's not an easy guy to control/influence.

According to the AAI, Secure teenagers/adults are fully conscious of the abuse they suffered (I think Seto totally is, he just – you know – AVOIDS it) and are able to find a way to be happy and healthy again (I mean, I don't really think made it to the end, but he's still young and he's got a long road ahead, maybe he'll fully heal some day and I believe he's capable of doing that, because we've already seen his character development since the begninning of manga to the movie DSOD. Mokuba has been his strength and, you may like it or not, Yugi and Co (especially Atem) being a good challenge, nosy and friendly helped him too, which is cute (also Atem and Jonouchi made him reconsider playing games for love and fun, instead of only winning, so he found that old spark he loved playing games for again). Also, this is a little unrelated to the attachment itself, but a Secure person can also be defined as an autonomous and functional adult and I think he is, since he's a freaking CEO(?).

Now, let's talk about the Preoccupied people a little: a part of the AAI says that some individuals feel anger and/or conflict towards one or both parents. I mean. I don't think I have to explain this one, but Seto perfectly shows he hasn't moved on from the hatred he feels fro Gozaburo (and rightly so, I might say lmao). In Battle City he destroys an entire Island just to get rid of Gozaburo's memory and Obelisk representes his wrath and hatred (the soundtrack itself is called Wrath of God).

So, there we have it: Seto's an Avoidant child/teen, with some Secure and Preoccupied behaviour.

Some time later, another theory entered the chat: Lyons-Ruth presented her classification system of the attachment adding new styles, which are Hostile and Helpless. HH behaviour indicates that traumas are still present and working (ouch).

Hostile individuals are busy trying to control their own unwanted emotions and feelings of vulnerability (lol, Seto I see you): they are pretty much in denial, trying to hide their feelings of fear and helplessness. They also tend to identify themselves as their abusive parent and they hate it (yeah... I mean, this is so Seto).

Now, as I said in the beginning, I'm gonna talk a little bit about his attachment style BEFORE the orphanage thing. Seto used to smile (a lot), play many different games with Mokuba (which suggests they grew up in a positive environment where the parents were loving and the family as a whole was functional, since there seemed to be no hostility betweet the two brothers), be supportive, be happy and active. This is important, because this indicates that the little guy had good caregivers (as I said the family was functional and he had and still has a good relationship with his younger brother) and that means: Secure attachment style. Being Secure means not freaking out about a caregiver's absence and this might be a little stretch since grief is no joke at all, but even if it's a traumatic event, Seto handled it like a champ. (Of course this doesn't mean that didn't hurt and he didn't suffer. Quite the contrary. But he's been very strong since childhood).

I think this is it for the attachment style! Moving on to ...

GRIEF IN CHILDREN

So, we all know Seto and Mokuba lost their parents in an accident when they were children (I think Seto was about 8 or 9 yo and Mokuba was 4). Studies suggest that 4 yo children start to understand how death works (it's irreversible and universal, that means that they know who dies won't come back and that everyone will have the same fate sooner or later), whilst 6 yo and older children fully understand other implications (e.g. vital functions - like breathing - stop, and so on).

Now, of course this is considered as a very traumatic event for children to go through, but they can be calmed if treated right. Which didn't happen with Seto and Mokuba of course (poor babies).

Not only they suffered the sudden loss of their parents, but they also had to face heartless relatives who didn't want them and abandoned them in an orphanage. At that point Seto decided to step in as a father for Mokuba, which is HUGE for an 8 yo child who doesn't even know to tie his shoes yet (but is really great at chess, yo!)(just kidding).

What the studies tell us is that children who suffer a sudden loss of their parents also lose their only source of safety and support, which will make them feel like they're in danger and abandoned. What emotional reactions this may cause: sadness, anger, anxiety, apathy, shame and guilt. I'm pretty sure Seto felt all of this, but ignored it and tried to stay focused for Mokuba, which is sweet and a great proof of psychological stregth.

Physical symptoms: headaches (I'm sure Seto gets a lot of them), anxiety, sleep disorders (like, come on...), always scared of what could happen to other people (you may argue Seto doesn't give a shit about anybody, but everytime Yugi and Co are in danger, Seto's always there ready to help even if he doesn't admit it), always on the alert.

However, the most interesting bit is what a loss like this causes to children's relationship with their peers: they start to isolate themselves and start to show aggressive or hostile behaviour, which is exactly what Seto does. He's definitely a loner even as a teenager and he's a little hostile and dismissive towards everybody, especially his peers.

So, I think that's all...? If anything else comes to mind I will edit this post and add it, but I think that's pretty much it. I hope you enjoyed this!

PS: I'm sorry if there are mistakes or weird sentences, english is not my first language. I tried! 💀

#seto kaiba #seto kaiba psychological assessment #yugioh #mokuba kaiba #psychology

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hellsite-hall-of-fame · 11 months

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listen... listen. i'd love just as much as anybody to get to make a fool of myself in person with all my fellow fools, as opposed to making a collective fool of ourselves online. I just don't know if we have the brainpower to organize it. The first dashcon, as far as i know, was a logistical disaster. I know there's a spreadsheet side of tumblr, and... *shudder* a business side (I checked) but are they willing to help? are we willing to accept their help?

More issues to consider: With the cost of living and travel and the very decentralized tumblr userbase, on what continent would dashcon 2.0 be held? would there need to be online signups? payments? a website? who would create and oversee those things?

What if we tried to have a number of smaller cons for different regions? Only around 600 folks have answered 100% YES on your poll - How many users need to show up before we have folks from enough major communities to feel like a true tumblr party? How do we guarantee those numbers? What about major blogs? do we just hope they show up or pay them to sign autographs? is it a multi-day affair, like dashcon tried to be, or do we aim low?

There is so much that goes into an event like this- transit, trucking, storage, space, sign-ups, accounting, licensing, begging, scheduling, convincing, emailing, hiring, firing, decorating, ordering, packing... I haven't even gotten to the tip of the iceberg meme.

Do we hire planners and event companies, or are we too embarrassed to ask? How does everyone work around their day jobs and careers? Who is organizing dashcon 2.0, and what is their stake in it? How do we not repeat the mistakes of those who came before us?

Anyway, if you're gonna do it, I want to help. let's talk.

hmm alright I have thoughts

because I agree, I don’t know if we have the brainpower or money to organize it. my sincere hope with posting about a hypothetical dashcon has been that some super determined millionaire would be like “hey here- have this money and here’s a bunch of connections I have to people to help you organize this”…..so basically lots and lots of wishful thinking lmao.

while the business side of tumblr does seem terrifying, we might have to accept their help if they’re willing.

all of the logistics you mentioned are very very true things that I imagine the original dashcon creators didn’t fully take into account (or i’d assume as much based on the chaos that ensued lol)

as for location, yeahhh that’s the definite hard part. in my head, I keep seeing this as like a vidcon (which is terrible because it wouldn’t be as big but idk) which is held in California. but idk how feasible that is for the average Tumblr base. and that does definitely cut down the amount of people that would be able or willing to come so idk.

and I also imagine having like panels and possibly meet and greets or something with major blog owners, but idk if we’d just beg them to come or find a way to pay them.

As for the whole last paragraph- aaaaah I have absolutely no idea.

i’m definitely not going to spearhead organizing such an event (mostly because I don’t want my real name associated with it in case it goes to shit again lmaoo) but if someone else had more resources to do so, I would absolutely be willing to help.

and if anyone sees this and has conference-planning experience and wants to help make a bunch of wishful Tumblr users dreams come true…. please let me know and i’d love to help!

#this is such a well thought out ask though anon #sorry I don’t have more experience or confidence to create such an event #my dad might…. but i’m definitely NOT asking him lmao #so we must suffer I guess #hellsite hall of fame #ask #the hellsite answers #anonymous #dashcon #dashcon 2 #dashcon 2.0 #hellsite hall of fame curator’s bullshit

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shutupheathersorryheatherr · 4 months

Text

“What hair product I think each svt member is”

Summery: a holiday fic that has absolutely nothing to do with the holidays! Wanted to try my hand at writing something a bit different and thought this was a good idea to start. Not really comedy but amusing none the less! (idk if what I wrote makes sense hopefully yall are picking up what I’m putting down) approximately: ten minute read

A/n: THIS IS NOT MY ORIGINAL IDEA! (In a way it is buuuutttt still) I can’t find the author who wrote the “what piece of furniture svt are” or something to that effect so they’re the ones who gave me the idea so if yall find them please tag them unless I do first!

warningz/info: mentions of pain, mentions of chocolate, I think what, three curse words? y'all let me know if I should start keeping them to a minimum or remove them entirely because I know some people are uncomfortable with them! I feel like the spacing between paragraphs is weird in this fic but oh well. no idea how this is gonna go over and im scared that I tagged it with "x reader". plus I dont know if anyone would read/enjoy it but I had loads of fun writing it! as always, if you did like it, please leave some love like comments and or reblogs!

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper. This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

•••••••••••••••••••

>Seungcheol<

gel. Sticks to you like glue once you find each other (romantic music starts playing in the hair care isle when you pick up your favorite gel) everyone has their preferred brand/ look they worship. Thicc. Either smells putrid and chemical like or good enough to transport you to a magical land of chocolate, pink grass and purple clouds

>Jeonghan<

he is a Bobby pin. And I will provide no further explanation on this except that he holds you together but will stab you lmao

>Shua<

an Afro pick/ hair pick. Its what everyone’s looking for: that little somen’ somen’. That little poof we all desire. Also scalp massages :)

>Jun<

wide tooth comb. My fellow thick haired/ curly haired people will know about this one 😭 this shit can be mean to your scalp tugging on your hair and UGH helps you greatly and is a necessity but damn… that’s all I gotta say

>Hoshi<

Refresher product/ moisture product. wakes you up in the morning. Gives you a reason to NOT look like you just rolled outta bed even though you did. For most this is one ofthe holy grails in life. What would I do without it? Makes us all smile even at 4:00 am because oh my god I look better after I slapped this in. Just all around a day-brightener

>Wonwoo<

curl cream. Grounding. Has many different looks n stuff

>Woozi<

a rat tail comb. Everyone should have one. Versatile, used for many different things. Good for every sort of job and is a natural to be honest and is small but mighty lol

>DK<

a satin/ silk bonnet. And no, not one of those that most moms wear with the lace trim. Those end up at the foot of your bed by the morning. The ones with the thick elastic. I choose this cause it goes by many different names, just like him lol just has that comfy homey feel to it

>Mingyu<

hair mask. Made at home with some questionable ingredients. Seriously sometimes I don’t think he’s real lol

>Hao<

a denman brush. It sounds to helpful and great. And it is great!…. When you figure out how to use it. Hard to figure out but once you get the hang of it you’ll never go back (another thing my fellow curly haired babes will understand)

>Seungkwan<

co wash. A little something extra, a boost of energy, if you will. a well kept secret but also a well known fact

>Vernon<

hair tie. Easy to loose but also easy to find. especially in places where youd think: “why the fuck would it end up here?” Like idk man, but you should definitely check the dark corner collecting lint— that’s where they always are

>Dino<

leave in conditioner because with use over time it makes your hair (you) healthier

~End~

a/n: annnnnnnnddddd thats it! hope y'all enjoyed this disaster of a fic lmao if you liked it, please leave some love like comments or reblogging!

stay safe, y'all!

2023 ©️copyright for shutupheathersorryheatherr do NOT repost, steal, or translate my work even if you give me credit

taglist: @itz-yerin

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darklight-owl · 6 months

Note

Do you think Hershel and/or Phoenix would be able to solve the Death Note Kira case?

*cracks knuckles*

I made a post about this months ago but I think a lot of what I said there was really dumb bc it had been a while since I'd played either series so I'm gonna take this opportunity to correct my past self's wrong and bad opinions:

(Oh also I uh. May have included a few Death Note spoilers in the last paragraph of Phoenix's part sorry. I needed it to prove a point)

Hershel:

Definitely like no question. I originally said no on the basis that he isn't the type to take supernatural things at face value, but in reality he does seem to approach even the weirder cases with an open mind. Most games start with Luke being like "Professa do you really think there could be a notebook that kills people? :o" and Layton answering like "haha I'm afraid I can't really say Luke =|:-)" so I think he'd examine everything from every angle and eliminate every other possibility. He would take his sweet time since getting him to accept the Death Note as a real thing wouldn't exactly be easy, but once he's convinced then the rest would come naturally.

The other question is if he could survive, though. Obviously he would have the tact to hide his real name based on the possibility of Kira's power being real, especially if he's with Luke (which I don't even know if he would bring Luke along for this one considering how dangerous investigating Kira is). He does tend to appear a lot on british newspapers but since Light is in Japan then he wouldn't know about him beforehand. Regardless, Light has found out the names of his pursuers before and if he had Misa with him he could just ask her to write his name down. BUT ALSO. Layton has a tendency to not show his hand until the most convenient time, so odds are that Light won't even know he's pursuing him until it's too late.

Verdict: yeah he'll do great put him in the Task Force 👍

Phoenix:

It highly depends on the circumstances. Phoenix catches killers in court, so we're assuming someone already got falsely accused of being Kira. Light has a lot of followers who would gladly take the fall for him (namely Misa or Mikami) or alternatively lie their asses off to let him walk free. Everyone who's played Ace Attorney knows that you can't really lie to Phoenix without getting exposed though, so yeah.

Regarding the Death Note mechanics... honestly Phoenix works with a spirit medium channeling his dead teacher all the time so I don't see how he would have such a hard time believing shinigami with murder notebooks exist. (Edgeworth would be a completely different story but that's another case altogether.)

Problem is: he wouldn't so much as step into the court before suffering a heart attack. Not only does he not get a chance to hide his name thanks to court proceedings, but Phoenix is a pretty prestigious lawyer and even if he was only locally famous like Layton it wouldn't take long in the trial for Light to realize that this guy is bad news for him. Best case scenario he would try to debate away the accusations thrown at him, then when he realizes he's getting his ass kicked he'd desperately try to write Phoenix's name in that little slip of notebook he has in his watch. That's what he tried with Near, except this time he has the chance to hide what he's doing behind the witness stand and no Matsuda to stop him in his tracks.

Verdict: He could catch him but he would die in the process 💔

#you asked and I delivered ✨️#sorry it took me ages and ages to write this essay but I didn't have time to write it until now 😭#i... really like Death Note jfkdjdkd #mutuals #zakaria/evil-city #death note #professor layton #ace attorney

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astralscrivener · 2 months

Note

Hi baby!!! It’s me here with fanfiction game words! 🥰❤️❤️❤️

okay okay okay here are my words:

- intimate

- protectively/protective

- warmth

-giggle

Feel free to choose your favorites 🥰❤️❤️❤️

WEEEEEEEE THANK YOU LOVEY

intimate

i was honestly worried i wasn't gonna have this one but LO AND BEHOLD I FOUND ONE

for the as-yet-untitled oneshot for prompt o: opportunity in the abcs of klance series:

The Galra are their best bet. The Lions are a one-way ticket straight up the ladder, a promotion no soldier would turn down. But the Galra also won’t leave the universe’s greatest superweapon so damaged. Fixing the Lions will be high on their priority list. And who better to understand the intimate connection between Lion and Paladin than an original Paladin and Altean alchemist themselves?

protectively/protective

i did not have protectively/protective specifically, but i do have protect!!!!

from the as-yet-untitled oneshot for prompt t: trust in the abcs of klance series:

Lance’s spork scraped his plate. The screech filled the dining room, and the vibration of it traveled up Lance’s arm until it sat uncomfortably in his teeth. The others startled, raised their heads. Lance looked down and realized his knuckles were turning white. He couldn’t explain himself, if the others asked. What was he supposed to do, just admit out loud that he didn’t trust having Krolia here? Not after everything? That failing to protect Keith then, and still feeling like he was failing to protect him now, was eating him alive?

warmth

again, no "warmth" specifically, but i do have warm!

from [REDACTED] chapter 2 (light content warning for emetophobia):

Keith was no longer following at all. His heartbeat was suddenly loud in his ears, and the curdling thing in his stomach had made its way up to his throat. He must have made a noise, maybe turned green, because the next thing he knew, he was hunched over on his knees, the team surrounding him, several hands on his shoulders and back. Warm brown fingers pulled his hair out of his face.

giggle

astoundingly, there is no giggling going on in my dozen wips. everyone is having a miserable time forever and ever and ever. however i did find some laughs

from the hallura crush fic:

Allura blinks at him. “Um.” Then she remembers her whole purpose for coming here, and blinks again, and remembers that she is the face of the Coalition. This is nothing. The stakes of this whole thing are not higher than the war. She can do this. “Yes,” she finally answers. “I need advice.” There’s a startled snort from behind Lance. Lance’s uneasy smile twitches. “Advice? From me? You’re asking me for advice?” He laughs, high and unnatural. “That’s—did someone put you up to this? Is this a prank? Pidge asked you to say that, didn’t they?” “No,” Allura answers, fidgeting now with her fingers. “I—I want to talk to you. About…romance.”

fanfic wip guessing game! send me a word, if it’s in my wip document I’ll answer your ask with the sentence paragraph that it appears in!

#thank you again love 🥰#almost put another snippet of [REDACTED] for giggle but. we can save that for later #eileen answers #sweetheart tag #my writing #ask meme #fic: ds (es)#vld

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agwic · 9 months

Text

zampanio is a very good game, you should play it(or not idk it's probably not for everyone)

ok so i've fallen into an arg. and keeping notes on it. the creator of the arg, in the most roundabout and inefficient way possible, told me to post my notes somewhere public, like ao3 or tumblr. so here i am. to do that, and also to recommend that arg to you, because posting a notes doc without context would be weird.

so, uh, yeah. zampaniosim is an arg made by @jadedresearcher, who also made sburbsim and dollsim(a homestuck doll creator) and a bunch of other stuff, most of which was homestuck-related. zampaniosim also has homestuck references, but it's mostly due to references to jr's prior works, and zampaniosim is actually entirely original based on a weird video game creepypasta which has seemingly disappeared off the face of the internet. but yeah it has a lot of references. to a lot of things, not just homestuck.

anyways it's a really cool arg and it's still ongoing! and it feels like it has a pretty low barrier to entry, especially due to the fact that, since it's been ongoing for 3 years, there are plenty of(or maybe only the 2-3 i have found) guides(under a very loose definition of guide) and a wiki that is probably more helpful than not. i've decided to make limited use of the guides and wiki, which has lead to a very fun experience, especially knowing i can fall back on them(or ask for hints from other fans) whenever i want. still, this limited approach has meant that i've barely scratched the surface.

if you want to get into zampaniosim, then i recommend starting here, but here(should include link to the prior link, but doesn't include it today unless there's an exception for first visit) or here(includes link to the prior link, as well as a few other things i haven't looked into nearly as much) can also be places to start. or you can just look at the farragofiction website as a whole, or jr's tumblr blog, or just google zampanio. im not your boss.

orrrrrr you could watch me as i explore zampaniosim!!! by looking at my notes!!! which are primarily designed for me to not forget things so they may make very little sense if you don't do any of the things mentioned in the last paragraph!!! but things making very little sense is kinda the point of zampanio so it's as good of an entry point as any, i guess. though i will note that it contains a ton of spoilers, for obvious reasons

since my notes doc being public is ostensibly the point of this post, im gonna post the link again, this time not inline!

zampanio!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#zampanio #zampaniosim

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autiezo · 10 days

Text

Sadly, while I was writing an 'Incorrect Disco Elysium" quote, it turned into a Jean centered one-shot fic.

The original idea was "Jean insults everyone except Kim and Jules while introducing a rookie into Precinct 41 (Judit is absent that day), and also accidentally admits that he likes Harry."

[Writer rambles under the cut]

20 minutes into writing this, I was like "Shit, this is way too long. These aren't a list of quotes anymore." Which is probably a good thing since the idea isn't a super punchy 'Ha-ha funny' and would benefit much more if I explored the characters properly. Also, it's not like many DE fans would be on Jean's side on this, so it falls flat as a quote. Hell, even I wouldn't without paragraphs of context. In fact, I'd just be waiting for Jean to be humiliated/humbled because I love bullying him.

Also, it turned into a Y/N fanfic?? I never read those since I personally find them low-key off-putting. Like a "Don't tell me what to do!" type of deal. However, I didn't wanna put in an OC that does nothing except nod along and follow the story, since I find that more lame. If I'm putting in an OC, I want to make them count. Honestly? I'm excited to take on the challenge. I could do a work-around and write a reason on why Y/N is acting the way they are. Also, for some reason I pictured Y/N as female at first, probably because I'm a woman too. But nah, scratch that, I want Y/N to be any gender possible so that everyone can be Y/N in this. The only tiny hiccup is that they are referred to as 'they', but that's fine since I can't have everything ngl.

If y'all have seen some of my 'Incorrect DE quotes', you'd know I take the term very very loosely. Like the time I had Harry and Kim read the Death Note, or the time I had them discuss Kim's Dream, or the classic time where Kim used the eyebrow on Jean. Those ones are 1 or 2 paragraphs long.

For this idea I have rn? I wrote down two paragraphs and haven't even gotten to Harry's part. Sheesh. I already cut out all the background details here, that's how off the rails this went.

I'm happy that I got to write Mack and Chester shenanigans though. Writing for DE minor characters is always a bonus. And... huh. Maybe one of them should briefly flirt with Y/N as they walk away? Ohhhh or they'd tag-team ngl. It'd be a joke to get a reaction, but still. I haven't seen much of those two, but I feel like they'd be jokesters 90% of the time, like hooligan schoolboys hanging out at the back of the classroom. Gonna have to read their quotes on Fayde before I make any further assumptions.

But yea, it's definitely a one-shot. The biggest this could expand into is a series of slice-of-life RCM office one-shots, but that's unlikely. I'm not too keen on writing Y/N for too long. Hypothetically, by some miracle, if I do end up writing those then I'd either turn Y/N into an OC instead, or research on how to make Y/N interesting while also including the reader themselves.

Y/N characters... sigh. In my personal (and possibly ignorant) opinion, they tend to be really generic and/or suffer the "Marvel Sarcasm Bot" effect. Personally, I have never related to a Y/N character. When I was a teen first reading TMNT 2012 fanfic, I always thought Y/N was someone else, and never me.

Ah, I could make Y/N an introverted person who keeps to themselves, so that they could be an observer. That's one idea. It could work since I can put it in the tags and author notes, so that the reader knows what's up first. hmmmmm

#disco elysium #zo rambles #fanfic idea musings #jean vicquemare

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internalsealpanic · 2 years

Text

Contrition

summary: Dick tells Bruce he's a grandfather. It goes swell. a/n: This part (part 2 two Convalescence )was made primarily because I did not have the heart to throw away the conversation I wrote for Reader and Bruce in my original draft of the fic. Clark being in this fic is also just me wanting to write Clark warnings: Everyone is a little shit, emotional conversations, very self-indulgent on my part.

"Clark."

Clark rubs his face, groaning at himself for answering. "Bruce, it's—" he squints at the clock— "It's 2—" he checks again and regrets it immediately— "2:38. AM. Is it an emergency?"

Bruce goes quiet. The normally steady beat of Bruce's heart ratchet's up and so does Clark's. He's off the bed, floating and readying himself to zip to wherever the emergency is. Clark's nerves fray as Bruce struggles with his words. The worst possibilities flit through his mind.

"I'm—" Bruce's breath comes out harsh— "I have a grandchild."

Clark slowly lowers himself back onto the bed; he feels a little disoriented as the loud rush of blood in his ears dies down. "Congratulations," because that was the right thing to say but Bruce's pulse was still up to an 11.

"What do I do?"

Clark looks at the clock wearily, his few hours of sleep waning away with every syllable. This really is a conversation he's having at 2 in the morning. He can't exactly hang up on Bruce, not because the man owns the paper he works for but because Bruce is gonna keep calling people until he gets terrible advice. "Have you tried asking Alfred?"

"He laughed."

Clark pinches the bridge of his nose. "And you think I wouldn't do the same?"

"Why do you think I called you at 2 AM?" Bruce says, a grin creeping into his voice.

Clark suddenly remembers that no matter how old they get, Bruce Wayne is a little shit. There is a vein in Clark's forehead that is threatening to burst. Beside him, Lois stirs, rubbing the sleep out of her narrowed eyes. Clark kisses her forehead apologetically. She rolls her eyes and motions for him to put Bruce on speaker. Clark chuffs but does it anyway.

"It shouldn't be too different from having kids, right?" Clark says, wrapping an arm around Lois.

"How would I know?" Clark's forehead creases with the real irritation bleeding into Bruce's normally flat tone. "Clark, am I on speaker? I can hear Lois trying not to laugh."

Clark glances at Lois whose face is buried in his shoulder. "Sort of."

"Clark."

Lois grabs the phone. "Brucie, you forfeited your right to privacy the moment you decided to call at 2 AM."

Bruce replies to this by grunting.

"So off the record," Clark glances pointedly at Lois who holds her hands up innocently," who's the new parent?"

There's a long enough pause that Clark considers hanging up.

"Dick."

This time there's a long pause from Clark's end which is abruptly cut off by a string of not-curse-words from Clark and whispered cheers from Lois.

"What was that?"

"Sorry, I just signed myself up for two months of dishes," Clarks says rubbing his face.

"Did you just bet on my children?" There's no anger in the words, just abject confusion.

"Yes but tell Dick congratulations for us... You did congratulate him, right?"

"Sure."

"Bruce."

Bruce sighs. "He called me and I reacted by hanging up."

"You what?!"

Lois is full-on laughing at this point.

"Bruce, you hung up on Dick when he was trying to tell you he has a kid," Clark says slowly.

"Clark, this wasn't an infant. The kid looked 3."

Clark takes a moment to let the information settle and now he understood the apprehension in Bruce's voice. All Clark could say was "you didn't think to lead with this?"

"Sorry let me start this conversation over. Hello Clark, my boy has a 3-year-old child after being a childless bachelor the last time I saw him. Does that work better?"

"It sounds like a terrible headline," Lois pipes up.

Clark hums in agreement. "I would probably save that for the body paragraphs."

"I'm being serious, you assholes."

Clark heaves a breath and rubs his face again. "You have talked to Dick again after that."

"No."

"Bruce."

"I know. But I don't know what to do."

"Talk to him? Check on him?"

Why was this so hard?

This isn't rocket science.

"It's not that simple," Bruce chuffs.

Clark draws in another breath. Rocket science. Bruce can do rocket science but broaching emotional subjects is objectively hard for a man who has more than 5 kids. "We are going to Bludhaven," Clark grunts, shoving socks on his feet, careful not to tear them because darn it Bruce.

"Clark, no."

"Get dressed, I'll be there in," Clark looks at his phone, "a couple of minutes." He shoves a sweater on, not even mildly concerned about the fact that he might have put it on the wrong way. He did but Lois isn't going to tell him that. He'll figure it out eventually.

"It's 3 in the morning."

Clark pauses, very close to lasering his own phone. He pushes the urge down, settling for shooting back a quick "I'm sure he's awake." Dick won't be happy but Clark thinks he can handle a grumpy Dick. Not the first time.

The lines of your vision are starting to blur, still, you keep them on the steady rise and fall of August's chest. Your own chest feels tight. It's probably the only thing keeping you awake. The flashcards for your presentation today lay forgotten on your lap as you sing to August, melody quiet and almost imperceptible against the droning of machines around you.

"Are you really singing Black Parade in a hospital?" Dick chuckles, handing you a much-needed cup of coffee.

You accept it gratefully, smiling at the steam rising from the cup and avoiding his eyes. You've already seen the bruising under his eyes and the guilt bubbles up under your skin. "What else do you want me to sing?" you laugh tiredly, rubbing your hand over August's chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart, desperately trying to push down the feeling of being overwhelmed by Dick. This wasn't the right time for it. August needs you to be ok today.

This isn't made easier by Dick sitting next to you, his warm comforting presence lulling you. The tiredness seeping in through the cracks, your shoulders slump. You feel like crying. You just want to hold August and make him feel better. You just want him to be ok. You wish you could make him be ok. You wish you didn't need to rely on Dick so much. You wish you could just stay awake.

There's a hand on your shoulder and when you look up you're met with Dick's concerned face and your heart drops to the floor.

"Hey," the word is soft and you have no idea how Dick is allowed to put you at ease with just one word. Dick doesn't even say it a particular way. It's just his 'hey' and the world feels mildly more alright than it is. "You look like you're gonna keel over."

You set the coffee on the table, your flashcards spilling to the floor. 'I'm fine' would just make Dick frown at you. 'Don't worry about it' will inevitably lead to an argument. 'Please don't' is what you want to say but that's a bad idea on multiple levels and you're not emotionally, mentally, or physically equipped to deal with the fallout of making Dick more worried than necessary. Instead, you lay your head on his shoulder and try not to sob.

Dick wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer and planting a kiss on your forehead. "Doc said he was gonna be ok," he says, squeezing your shoulder. "Says the My Chemical Romance songs helped."

You sniffle, slapping his thigh half-heartedly. "Did you check if he was actually a Doctor?"

"Pretty sure," Dick hums, resting his head against yours. "Think his name was Dr. Sexy."

Your constricted throat lets out a wheeze of a laugh. Pressing your face into Dick's neck, you try to muffle hysterical laughter. Dick's ears turn pink but he focuses on laughing into your hair. The joy and relief of laughter blankets the room, easily rising over the drone of the machines around you.

In the bed, August stirs, his little body shifting under the sheets. Your breath stutters as he moans, face squishing into the pillow. He flails his hand as if to tell you to be quiet. A hush falls over the both of you and once again the room only has room for the beeping of machines.

When August is once again on his back, you let yourselves breathe out loud. Dick squeezes your shoulder and smiles at you. In a low voice, he says, "Go home. I can take care of him."

You freeze. "Dick," you chew on your thoughts before pushing out the rest of your sentence. "I can't. I have to—"

"Rest, so you can prepare to rock that presentation," he says squeezing your hand. He brushes strands of your hair out of your face. "We're ok here. Promise. I'll call you if something happens. Just... just get some shut-eye, yeah?"

You sigh for the hundreth time that night. "I owe you."

"I take cash."

"Do you prefer stripper dollars?"

"No, but I will take Smart Cow coupons."

You snort. "Oh, of course."

"Ok, so I love you guys but why are you here?" Dick sighs, unconsciously pulling the bundle of blankets in his arms closer to his chest. In Dick's living room, Bruce and Clark are calmly sitting on the couch like functional humans (previous evidence points to the contrary) while in his kitchen, Duke, Damian, and Jason are all mixing different concoctions and with the pantry wide open, Dick can only guess what unholy abominations they're all cooking up.

August whines softly, burrowing deeper into the blanket, feeling cold from the hall. Dick shuts the door quickly and softly.

"Hi to you too, Dickweed," Jason says around a mouthful of brioche.

Dick debates on whether he actually needs to cover August's ears for that one probably not but it doesn't hurt to be cautious. "Hi. Now, answer my question."

They all share a look and the first to pipe up is Bruce. "You called."

Dick rattles his brain to try and remember when he called and what for.

"To tell Bruce about August," Clark adds helpfully.

Duke squints at Dick. "You told him via call? Wouldn't it be better to see his shocked expression in person?"

Bruce flings Duke a look which, through years of hard work (aka asking Dick), Clark roughly translates as 'whose side are you on'. Duke grins and shrugs.

"I can't screenshot Bruce's face in real life."

"Photos are a thing, Richard."

Dick rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on August. "Yeah well, I can't hang up on him in real life."

“He does it to Commish a lot . I think you've noticed."

Jason has a fair point but that is once again too much effort and that still doesn't answer why all of them are there. He gets Clark. Bruce wouldn't be here looking like an Irish Setter otherwise but what are the other three doing here? "Don't you have school," is the first thing he asks because he apparently doesn't look like enough of a dad already.

His siblings are nonplussed by this, more annoyed honestly, but Bruce and Clark look like a torpedo just launched out of his chest cavity.

"We heard about Father's trip here."

"Squirt here was worried," Jason adds, ruffling Damian's hair. The kid looks like he's gonna tear Jason limb from limb and it occurs to Dick that maybe Damian and August will either get along swimmingly or murder each other.

It warmed Dick's heart but he had to school his features back into his best Alfred impression he could pull off. "That doesn’t explain why you all came," he says, snuggling August further into his arms.

Bruce sighs, "I honestly don't know."

Clark elbows him then turns that very Midwestern smile on Dick. "Bruce wanted to meet August."

"And I was listening in on B's calls," Jason admits.

Dick opens his mouth but Jason supplies, sweeping his hand over to Damian and Duke, "then I kidnapped these two from school."

Damian huffs imperiously. "What Todd means is that Duke and I demanded to come with him and he obliged."

Under duress, Dick thinks but still, he smiles at them. "Ah ok, but August is a little sick so he might not be up to really talking," Dick says walking over to the living room. August isn't heavy per se but he's not keen on stressing out his muscles more than strictly necessary.

"That's fine," Damian crosses his arms. "Children that age often have nothing intelligent to say."

August chuffs in protest.

Duke laughs. "I'm not convinced you were ever that small."

Damian refuses to dignify that statement. Instead, he looks over August and raises a brow. "Richard, have you given him some medication?"

Dick tries not to be offended. "The hospital gave him some. Doc just said he needed rest," he says, flopping down beside Bruce who still looks like he's been drained of blood.

August looks so soft swaddled in the blanket. It makes Bruce's heart hurt and lets him ignore the fact that it is actually a Green Arrow blanket. Dick eagerly awaits for him to notice.

Bruce's movements are stiff and awkward as he reaches to touch August. You would think Bruce was reaching for a bomb. Brushing August's hair away from his face, Bruce can say with absolute certainty that the resemblance is undeniable. His mind floods with memories of Dick as a child and how small he'd been when he first came to the Manor. It strikes him again that Dick is an adult now and with a child and the feeling of vertigo hits him again.

August's face is crunched and annoyed. He turns away, ducking into Dick's chest.

Dick chuckles. "He's grumpy when he's tired."

"Bruce is like that too," Clark says, earning a scowl from Bruce.

Dick laughs softly and presses August into his chest tighter. "He’ll be ok by morning, well, he’ll be a lot better." Dick debates on whether to warn them about August's forwardness.

"He looks just like you," Bruce says stupidly.

A loud snort erupts from the kitchen.

"That is how genetics works, Bruce," Clark says with a voice that sounds a little amused. Bruce snaps his mouth shut before he can say anything August will remember.

Dick shrugs. "I dunno, he looks a lot like his mom to me." He brushes his knuckle against August's cheek, looking down fondly at the boy.

Bruce bristles remembering why he had so many reservations about coming here. He didn't exactly have kind words for you.

"There is a mother," Damian says incredulously, opening his palm and waving it at Jason.

Jason hands over a five begrudgingly. "Are you sure he isn't a clone or an impostor?"

"He isn't," Dick scowls then the expression immediately slides into being sheepish, "I checked."

Clark looked at him mortified.

"He's kidding," Duke assures. Bruce, Damian, and Jason look doubtful, forcing Duke and Clark to turn to Dick. Dick is not helpful when he tosses them an innocent smile. "You are kidding, right?"

"I did one test," Dick says quickly. Clark buries his face in his hands. They dissolve into a debate on which test was best suited to trying to determine whether August was evil which in turn resulted in Jason and Damian being convinced that the kid is in fact evil but evil in the way Dick is.

Stumbling out of the cab, you nearly slip on the sidewalk, clucking your tongue as you right yourself. All you want to do is chuck your heels at someone, specifically the board reviewing your thesis, but scooping August up into your arms and peppering your face with kisses sounds much more appealing.

The elevator ride is awful.

The click of your heel is as endless as the ride.

At some point, you take your heels off and stuff them in your bag. Your foot continues to tap against the metal, head falling as you press your back against the wall. A different kind of nervousness settles into your bones. You're not blind. You've noticed how Dick has been looking at you and how his jokes have become flirtier and it scares you. Biting your lip, you draw in your breath. You've thought about it. You brush your hair back and feel your stomach flip. It's all too much. Dick has always been overwhelming but the fact that he can look at you like that after what you did— Damn it, Dick.

You fish the spare key out of your coat. Dick had the audacity to give you the Nightwing design but you partnered it with a Flash keychain just to be petty. It is extremely petty but fuck it.

The door is unlocked.

Your stomach drops.

What if they're in danger?

You push the door in quietly, your breath frozen in your chest. The knot in your stomach tightens the release when you hear laughter and bickering but then the knot tightens into a choke hold when you see the people in the living room.

An itch ripples all over your skin, and the oxygen in your lungs burns up and snuffs out.

Suffocating.

That's the word. You're suffocating as the room shifts their focus from August to you. You feel the pressure bear down on you and you feel like you're going to fall through the floor and land straight down to the basement of the building.

"Hi," you choke out, repressing the urge to slam the door shut.

Bruce is giving you that cold look and the urge returns with a vengeance. The only things that keep you in the room are Dick's smile and the little whine August gives.

You answer mechanically to whatever questions they have as you stumble towards the kitchen.

You can feel Bruce bearing down on you as he walks up behind you.

"How are you?" You ask, desperately keeping your hand steady as you add another spoonful of chocolate powder. You don't dare look at Bruce even as he settles next to you.

"Good."

You sigh inwardly; wrenching your gaze from the countertop, you glance at the glass of the cabinets. "It looks like everyone's excited to meet August."

Silence.

"Dick's contending for dad of the year and I think—"

"How old is August?"

Your hands shake but you try to answer with as even a voice as possible. "5 as of 3 months ago."

The anger is palpable from Bruce and you feel yourself shrinking as it grows in intensity. You look at the space where Dick should be to calm yourself down. It works and you hate that it works.

"5 years."

4, you want so desperately to clarify. You don’t, so you and Bruce continue to stew in silence. You tilt your head to look over at Dick. Dick mouths 'help me' from across the room. You raise your thermos to him and mouth 'suffer', the corner of your lip curling sharply. Pouting, Dick mouths 'I hate you' but his eyes say something else entirely. The look that passes between the two of you is familiar. It's cast in the same shape as the puppy looks you gave each other when you were younger but something has shifted. The bedrock of that new look is something else entirely.

Bruce pauses.

He knows that look and knows it well.

Your tunnel vision widens to the tangled crowd of batbrats (plus Superman) fussing over the bundle of blankets laying next to Dick. You smile as August wraps his arms around Dick, face half-buried in his dad's stomach. You're sure it's the hot cocoa that's warm in your stomach.

Even the large wall named Clark Kent doesn’t stop you from staring so fondly at the space and Bruce is forced to concede. The turmoil in his gut, still acrid but low enough to look at this objectively. "One of us can watch over him while you two go on a date. I don't advise leaving him with Jason... or Tim... or Cass... I'll ask Alfred if he'll help me with babysitting."

Your heartbeat stops and the blood in your veins turns sluggish and cold and deeply uncomfortable. "Me and Dick..." Putting yourself in the same sentence felt wrong. "We—" This feels like an even worse substitute. "Mr.–" Bruce frowns so you walk yourself back. "Bruce, I think you misread... Dick hasn't..." Hasn't what? You shut up because you can't seem to think of a coherent sentence.

You wet your lips. This isn't hard. There's a good reason you never made a move. There isn't a move to be made. "We're just getting to know each other all over again and... and I don't know if I'm—" You stop once again, a rush of words plugged up by the heart-clogging your throat. You put your hand over your mouth. The unnamable insecurities lingering in your throat are barbed. You try to swallow them down to make room for facts. You start slow, words coming as a drip. "Dick gives as good as he gets. Maybe he gives a little too much." Your eyes fall down to your hands, looking at the lines and calluses. "I'm... Bruce, I'm not it. I'm not what he needs and I don't—" You breathe, feeling your eyes sting. You can't bear to look at Bruce because you know he of all people can see that.

A choked laugh bubbles up next to you. You're honestly not sure you can call it a laugh. It's more like a wet bark. You hazard a lookup and see Bruce politely trying to hold in laughter. You have no idea whether being offended is appropriate or if you should search for another emotion.

"You two are a match made in hell," Bruce says, finally managing to control the barking.

"Sorry?" This is not the correct reply but it was a hell of a lot better than just staring at Bruce goggle-eyed.

Bruce shakes his head, trying to school himself. "You know he still loves you, don’t you?"

You flinch.

That was not the reaction Bruce was hoping for.

Most of his amusement fades away. "I don’t think he’s ever stopped loving you…" He says, eye-sliding over to Dick who is trying his level best to fend off the chicken soup from hell that Damian made.

You let out a soft, tired laugh. You're pretty sure that it would be like Dick to keep loving someone even if they were a complete shit bag like you. "He really is stupid that way, huh?”

"Sometimes. It—he was learning and he made mistakes... Some of them my fault—I put him under pressure." Bruce rubs the back of his neck and has this look on his face that is too reminiscent of Dick and it makes your heart hurt.

You know what Bruce is thinking. He must think you're still mad at Dick. He's trying to mollify you and it stings. You push against the countertop, pivoting to face Bruce because you need to make this point crystal clear.

"Bruce. I've forgiven Dick a while ago even before bumping into him and..." You had a point but it's hard to keep it when it's so tethered to this nebulous feeling of being angry and when the feeling just slips away when Bruce gives you that earnest look. The feeling of irritation you felt suddenly feels misplaced. "Bruce," you try again. "I know he loves me and that's the problem."

Bruce gives you the most confused look in existence.

You rub your hand over your face. "That's just it. I don't know if he loves me just because of August." Instinctively, you grip your wrist. "I don't want him to love me because it's good for someone else."

Bruce frowns. "Is that what you think?"

You force yourself to breathe because the answer on your tongue is so hard to put into actual words.

What else is there, you think.

When you look up again, Bruce looks like he just aged twenty years. You wince, wanting to apologize but it's still too hard to breathe, so you save the oxygen and let him speak.

Bruce flat out refuses to believe that he is actually the emotionally intelligent one in this conversation. This is not what is happening.

"You think Dick," Bruce pauses trying to think of how to articulate this, "you think Dick is in love with you because you think he has to?"

The way your head drops is answer enough.

He will one day laugh about this.

"Dick isn't an idiot."

"He isn't," you agree, "but he leaves his heart out for people to pick at. We both know he's not good at emotional insolation and this is the kind of crap he would do."

You're not entirely wrong. Bruce rubs his temple and he distinctly remembers having a conversation with Dick about how you were bound to figure out his secret identity a long while ago. You're too sharp and too dull at once.

"Do you still love him?"

Every angle in your body sharpens, looking ready to stab Bruce if he says anything else. Your shoulders rear up and it takes so much in you not to scream at Bruce. "Of course, I do."

"Is it because of August?"

"Bruce, not falling and staying in love with Dick Fucking Grayson is so much harder than resisting gravity. And no, I don't love him because we have a kid together. I could set the world on fire for that kid but—" Your breath hitches and you feel your eyes prickle. Your vision is murky and fuck, you hope you weren't shouting.

A warm hand rests on your shoulder. You push it away half-heartedly. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't budge. You rub your eyes. "That's a dirty trick."

Bruce squeezes your shoulder. "It worked."

"Just because I feel that way doesn't mean Dick does."

Bruce huffs. "What if he does? Give it a chance."

"I'm scared," you admit, voice hoarse and fragile like breaking glass. "Bruce, I can't be good enough for him or August. I can't. I'm not."

Bruce sighs again for what seems like the hundredth time in this entire conversation. You can't blame him. You're not even paying for this therapy session. Neither of you is drunk enough for this conversation.

You make a mental note not to get buzzed in front of Bruce next time.

You're glad for Bruce's ability to just exist in a room for once. You don't need him to fill in the silence, wanting it to be as loud as it can while you try to ignore the tears that are springing up in your eyes.

You pivot away from him and this time his hand simply falls away.

"You're not a horrible person. You're better than you think you are."

You tip the thermos against your lip. "Should he really be settling for mediocre?"

"Have you tried to call yourself mediocre in front of him?"

You smile up at Bruce. "I'm really fond of not having my head bitten off, thanks."

Bruce quirks his mouth and you want to punch him because you don't know whether his similarities to Dick are intentional. It's funny how people can be so similar even when they're not related. The bitterness from your smile slips a little when you think of how Dick's habits are starting to creep into August's.

That stupid quirk of his lip for example.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Bruce's hand is on your shoulder again and this time, it's gentle and barely there and good lord, this man wants you to rip him an entirely new asshole.

You stagger that feeling and place a hand over Bruce's.

"You trust Dick, so trust that he knows what he feels," Bruce says, squeezing your shoulder. You squeeze back but still you're not entirely convinced. Bruce knows it'll take time and knows that there is a real possibility that you'll hurt Dick again. Not the same way as before but something.

Bruce pats your back, feeling a little awkward now that the emotions are beginning to plateau. "Were you really never planning to introduce them?"

You laugh breathlessly, scrubbing the heel of your hand against your cheek. "Listen, I have no clue what Dick has told you about my social skills but I'm the kind of person who would rather not show up to a lecture than show up late." Straightening up, you stretch and shake, trying to slough off the excess energy living under your skin. You cup your hands on the curve of your neck and look straight at the crowd again, not willing to let Bruce see the puffiness of your eyes. "I tried once... During my pregnancy, I tried to tell Dick and... that resulted in me slamming my smart phone like it was a land line." The laughter that trails the sentence is flushed and you kind of wish you hadn't said anything.

"I can't tell if you're joking."

You want the ground to swallow you. "I wish I was. I had to ask my folks to lend me money for a new one." You angle your body away a little more, knowing outright stepping away is too obvious. "It... wasn’t my proudest moment."

Bruce crosses his arms. "Which part? The new phone or not telling Dick?" The archness of the statement was unintended.

"Both?"

The nervousness is obvious in your voice. Bruce has to play at damage control before anyone notices and by anyone he means Dick. The obvious wince Clark does makes it pretty obvious that he heard some of the conversation. "You haven't told Dick about it, have you?"

"I'd rather die than give him another karaoke incident," you say, turning to him, posture a lot less braced.

Bruce and Clark's shoulders both fall with relief. "How did you run into each other?"

"Well..." Your hand is on your wrist again but your smile is wry. A fond memory then. "August and I were in the grocery store because I bought the wrong flavor of frosted flakes and Dick was kind of there looking at the gross healthy cereal." Your nose scrunches but still, your eyes are crinkled and your mouth is quirked. Bruce nods and when he turns to ask his next question, you're already piecing together your answer. "He did not vault over the shelves." This garners a soft snort from Bruce. You look up to the ceiling, your chest feeling oddly loose. "He kind of went into autopilot as soon as he saw August. I think he was trying to analyze the kid to see if he was an alien. August hated that. The kid doesn't like being stared at.” Bruce hums in contemplation. “Unlike me, he’ll bark at you to quit it,” you laugh, the volume rises a little and the sound finds its way to Dick’s ears, snapping his attention towards you.

Dick leans and gets suspicious as soon as Clark starts actively trying to block his view. He narrows his eyes at Clark who moves his shoulders in a vaguely apologetic gesture. Dick's heart drops to the floor, noticing for the first time that Bruce wasn't there.

Shit.

Dick hooks his hand underneath August's arms, pulling the kid up to rest his head on his chest. August whines and thumps at his chest weakly but in a matter of seconds, he's asleep again. Carefully, he tugs him off and hands him to a very reluctant Clark.

"Did I miss anything?" Dick asks, his hands on his hips. You and Bruce share a look. Your head drops but there is a shared laughter which is frankly concerning in Dick's opinion.

Bruce looks between the two of you and after a moment, he pushes off the island, brushing past the accusatory look Dick gives him. He makes his way to the couch to make sure Jason hasn't imparted his wisdom yet. Clark wastes no time handing August off to Bruce who is frankly terrified the moment the sick five-year-old's body feels too light in his arms. Duke gently reminds him that August is a normal-sized child and Bruce is a mammoth of a man.

"You ok?" Dick asks, settling next to you, rocking on his heel unsure of how much space you needed.

You answer by leaning into his space, letting out a shaky breath. "Bruce does not get any less terrifying does he," you say, running a hand over your face.

Dick chuckles. "I'm gonna level with you I'm not a good judge of that," he says, testing his luck with how much space he can take up. You don't pull away and his heart flutters.

You laugh softly. "Because he's protective of you. Imagine being on the other end of that."

Dick blinks, looking adorably confused. "He gave you the talk?"

"No... sort of... He gave me a talk and it gave me a lot to think about."

Dick's organs pool beneath his feet and he turns to you. "Whatever Bruce said—"

"I want to make it work."

Dick falls silent. The pages of prepared responses collapse into a heap. The pieces are all indiscernible and Dick highly doubts that he can form a response from the rubble left behind.

You turn to face him fully, fists clenching and unclenching. "Not just co-parenting but ... us. I want to... what I mean to say is..." Your eyes snap shut and you take a breath to keep the oncoming panic attack from flooding in.

He takes your hand in his and cups your face with his other hand. Dick feels overwhelmed and thrown off balance but it's not unpleasant. It's the feeling you get after releasing your fist after clenching it too hard. His chest fills with more hope than he's allowed himself over the last few months. "We should go out sometime?" He tries, stroking your cheek.

Your eyes flutter open, letting yourself see his eyes. "Ah, yeah. That would be nice." You kick yourself for such a smooth reply while Dick kicks himself for such a debonair way of asking you out. This all occurs while the crowd on the couch watches on.

"They're so dumb," August wheezes quietly into Bruce's chest.

#dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #batfam imagine #dick grayson x reader #dc x reader #bruce wayne #clark kent

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