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#for anyone who wants to know more about what I'm thinking about when I'm thinking about names in Wolf 359
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Hi! I have a writing related question. I have a major problem finishing things, specifically the second half or last third. I'm a pantser, and have tried planning to help fix the issue, but it's just...not my style. I plan and it all changes anyway. This problem has been going on for a long time and by now I'm fairly sure the culprit is psychological/lack of confidence. I know logically this is a common occurrence and I likely just need to push through, but I simply can't do it, most of the time even with shorter works (I then feel worse about myself as a writer, which makes the problem worse, etc). I guess what I'm asking is, if you or anyone has been in this situation, and some general tips or words of wisdom lol. I know the issues, but still can't seem to fix it. It's affecting my ability to write and now I can't even start stories like I used to either. It's making me miserable. I love writing and want to have it "click" again; right now I just feel sort of broken, creatively speaking.
I'm not very fandom social but I do read this blog all the time, it's a gift. So helpful on so many different topics, and I felt comfortable finally reaching out here ♥️ Thank you for everything you do here
I think you know part of the issue. You know that you can't finish works and you know that planning doesn't help you. You think there might be a lack of confidence, but you don't seem all that certain about it.
I think you should dig in a bit more and see what the actual culprit is.
Are you worried that your writing is bad and will be poorly received?
Are you worried your story is too niche and no one will read it?
Are you worried that the things you write might lead to harassment or bullying of some kind?
What you'll notice about all of those things is that the worry is about how other people will react to what you've written. That's something that's completely out of your control.
To get back to the joy of writing, try writing something just for yourself, with no intention of posting it. See if that helps you get to the end. Often people who have issues with perfectionism or shame or anxiety will put off finishing projects because they want to avoid the judgement that comes after something is finished. If it's never done, no one will tell you that you did a bad job.
If you're like me, then planning is the opposite of helpful because as soon as the plan is in place, it feels like the story is already written. Instead, try working with a plotline that has lots of different ways that it can go. Make it into a kind of "choose your own adventure" but for you, the writer. As you get to each stage in the story, leave choices open so that you can go left or go right - but you can also go up or down or swing in a circle.
Refocus on the parts of writing that feel more like play than like work and do more of that. Reconnect with the joy of it. Then, when you actually like it again, you can figure out whether you actually still want to post your works and how you can deal with your worries then.
*hugs* it's a rough spot right now, anon, but I think you'll get through it. Let's see what advice the rest of the blog has to give.
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Gluttony - Leona
Author Notes: It was actually really difficult to choose what I was going to post this week. But I've been a little busy lately, so I finally just chose this one rather than working on polishing some of my other fics. I wrote this one to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier and that most certainly showed in the writing. With that said though, I'm pretty pleased with how this fic turned out. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender neutral reader/ fluff/ some angst with comfort/ romance implied/ some pining/ sfw
Word count: 1528
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Leona opened his eyes groggily, a frown on his face, as soon as the sun shone down through the leaves of the tree that hung over him, briefly blinding him before he sat up.
A hum from his left had his ears twitching before he twisted to see you lying right by his side. A slight smile on your face as the shadows of the leaves swayed across your form, and he felt his eyebrows raise.
He wasn’t particularly surprised to see you, though he knew the same couldn’t be said for anyone who might have seen you here.
Leona was no fool. He knew that you and him were pretty much perfect opposites. That’s why everyone always looked so confused when you were walking along beside him. Chattering away with a happy expression or teasing him about something that had recently gone in a way he hadn’t planned for it to.
Leona was the hated second prince. It was his burden, and it was one he’d carried his entire life. It was nothing new.
He was bitter, unpleasant, and something that people preferred to avoid either out of fear or powerful levels of distaste.
And then there was you. Sweet and far more optimistic than he thought he could ever be. And perhaps more interestingly, you were no fool. You knew everything wasn’t flowers and dreams. How could you not when you lived in a place like Ramshackle dorm and didn’t even have a way to get home? 
You were seemingly trapped in a world that wasn’t your own, but you didn’t let that stop you. Instead, you just keep going with your head held high, a smile on your face, and a laugh on your lips as you shrugged it off. It was admirable.
But it also simply wasn’t him. And that was something he knew perfectly well.
That simple fact was also the exact reason your classmates would find it so odd to see you slumbering here by his side and not somewhere else with someone who was a better match for your sweet disposition.
Leona leaned forward, propping his head on his chin as he looked down at where you slept by his side. You’d come here to study in the botanical garden while he’d slumbered next to you. It was something you often did, though he couldn’t fathom why.
It was almost like you either wanted the company or didn’t want him to be lonely. Either of which was ridiculous, since he could think of plenty of people who’d want to be your study buddy, and he certainly didn't want company for his naps.
But then, Leona also didn’t mind your presence, though he had his own reasons for not running you off.
Leona titled his head slightly, sighing at the sight of you, before pulling the book whose corner was jabbing into your side out of your hands and setting it off to the side where you’d quickly find it after waking up.
He idly scanned the area, half rolling his eyes as he confirmed that your feline companion was nowhere to be seen.
Grim had no doubt long since abandoned you in favor of avoiding anything even close to work.
As for you, Leona didn’t know if you were foolish or bold to have fallen asleep right next to him with no one around to protect you. But here you were curled up at his side, as if he weren’t someone who could easily harm you and were instead someone who would take care of you should you need it.
Which wasn’t something he could really deny to himself, but you didn’t need to know that.
After all, you’d seen him when he’d overblotted and you knew he wasn’t a good person. That should have been enough to send you scrambling to get away from him. But instead, here you were. 
And it was ridiculous.
It was true that it might have taken Jack a little while to realize that Leona wasn’t someone he needed to look up to, but Leona’s actions at the Spelldrive competition had cleared up Jack’s misunderstandings about him. 
Ruggie had always known what sort of person Leona was. It was one of the reasons he hung around. After all, there was safety in sticking close to people like Leona, so long as you remembered what they were truly like.
Both realized, for better or worse, that Leona was not a misunderstood individual who was secretly good. He was jaded, always beaten by others, and essentially worthless.
But then there was you, who was seemingly unbothered by any of this. 
And it wasn’t even like you didn’t believe Leona’s flaws existed; he could work with that. Instead, it was almost like you didn’t care. Like you didn’t really expect him to change outside of your occasional prodding for him to take better care of himself.
You saw his flaws—that much he knew from the times you had bickered with him over something—but you just seemed to accept them. The same way you just seemed to accept other people’s flaws as something that was just a part of them. Only ever really scolding others, or even Leona himself, when their actions either harmed themselves or others.
And that's how Leona knew you were simply too sweet for him. Too sweet for him to endure being near, but simultaneously too sweet for him to turn away.
It was just another show of how worthless he was at anything he tried to do and how little his own efforts mattered. He could try to push you away, but he couldn’t ever stop himself from clinging to you. 
As if you were one of the last sweet bits of his otherwise bitter life. A potent method of making everything else seem to fall away and be ignored so long as he just gets a fleeting taste of that kindness.
And Leona had tried to ignore you, but it was somehow impossible, even when he knew that being close to him could easily taint that sweetness of yours and turn it into a bitterness more like his.
But Leona also knew that you and him were all but opposites, and that was probably where the attraction of being near you lay.
Though that realization did nothing to lessen that attraction, no matter how frustrating it might be.
You shifted, letting out some sort of groggy sound and causing him to snort in amusement at your lethargic movements that had you shifting closer to him as if you craved his warmth. Coming closer to him instead of distancing yourself like you should.
It was ridiculous, watching you now, to think that you’d somehow bested him in the past. But you had. You’d beaten him as well as numerous others at their own game. Making them look like fools, as you seemed to change things simply by existing.
And maybe you did. After all, you weren’t of this world. And perhaps that was why it was so hard for him to detach himself from you.
Your eyes fluttered open, and you twisted to look up at the lion beastman, who didn’t even bother hiding his amusement as you blinked up at him before groggily sitting up, “What time is it?”
Leona glanced around, his ears twitching slightly as he listened to the distant sounds of students chattering as they left their club areas before he looked back your way, “Time to be getting back to the dorms. Club practice has already let out.”
You nodded, not looking terribly surprised and seemingly resigned to having lost the rest of your study period.
“Have you seen Grim?” You frowned lightly as you glanced around, and Leona snorted, leaning back and relaxing once more against the ground, lazily watching you as you collected your books.
“Nope,” At the single word you glanced over at him with raised eyebrows that almost made him want to take back all the previous thoughts he’d had about you being sweet.
But then that tiny bit of bite you had to you only ever seemed to emphasize your sweetness. It was what kept you interesting and at odds with the fools at RSA.
Because, unlike them, you managed to have a certain degree of cunning even with your sweetness. After all, he hadn’t been lying that day when he’d told Azul that you were far more dastardly than the scheming cephalo-punk was.
That was probably another reason why Leona had given up on pushing you away and had even come to expect your presence. He was a glutton for punishment, and with you being a villain that was sweet enough to even catch him unawares, you were certainly enough to keep him on his toes. 
His gaze held yours even as he felt yet another chip in the wall of his defenses fall away, despite the fact that he’d always maintained these walls around himself.
He may not want to let you in, but you really were too sweet for him, and it was reaching the point that Leona was becoming more and more willing to let himself give into his gluttony.
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𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 | 𝘲𝘩43 ♔
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➪ summary: y/n had always loved quinn but she never got the chance to act on her feelings. and then quinn realized his own, and everything changed
➪ warnings: quinn has a bitchy girlfriend, quinn thinking he's not good enough
➪ word count: 5.6k
➪ file type: song based fic
➪ sunny's notes: the first song based fic i'm reposting and it's probably one of my favorites (there's five and i actually can't choose a favorite one). i hope you guys like this one because it deserves to be loved to be honest
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‘you're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset she's going off about something that you said 'cause she doesn't get your humor like I do’
She had just sat down in the living room when she heard voices, more like a voice, outside her door. It really wasn’t her business to know who it was but they were standing outside of her door, so she took it as her duty to know what was going on outside her apartment. 
She walked to the door, abandoning her dinner and computer on the couch. She placed her head against the door, her ear straining to hear anything that was said. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the voice of her friend, Quinn. He sounded lighthearted when he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Y/n assumed it had been at least a minute or two since Quinn had spoken last, her ear starting to hurt from being pressed against the door for that long. When the man outside her apartment finally spoke again, his tone was much different than before, “I was just making a joke, Chloe.”
There was more silence before she could hear him again, “No you always blow things so out of proportion. It was just a fucking joke you don’t need to get so upset about it. I was listening to you talk and didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Once again silence, and y/n could only assume that Quinn was being yelled at from the other end of the line. She rolled her eyes, she never really liked Chloe, though she only met her once maybe twice. She was always mad about something, and usually, it was because of something stupid. She usually made underlying digs about y/n and her job, stating that she only took it because of the guys and how she wanted to meet someone.
She heard Quinn speak a few more times, mostly mumbling profanities and more thoughts that he wouldn’t even dare to say to her face. It was silent for quite some time after that, not even movement from the man outside as he just stood in front of his door staring at his phone dejectedly. 
Y/n stood up and straightened herself out before opening the door slightly and peeking her head out. Quinn looked in her direction as he heard the door click open and gave her a small smile.
“You okay?”
Quinn only smiled before responding, “Tired of drama.”
She frowned, “Sorry.”
He just shrugged, fiddling with his keys in his pocket. Y/n turned away, looking back at the pot of Mac N Cheese that sat on her stove, ready to offer Quinn to come inside, but when she stuck her head back out into the hallway she noticed that Quinn had already made his way inside his apartment. 
She sighed before stepping back into her entranceway and shutting the door behind her. All she could think about were the three words that she had been wishing to say since she met Quinn.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘i'm in my room, it's a typical tuesday night ‘i'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like ‘and she'll never know your story like I do’
It was a game day for the Canucks meaning that not only was Quinn at Rogers Arena but y/n as well. She was wearing her fleece-lined leggings with a long-sleeve t-shirt, her Canucks cardigan thrown over it. She hadn’t had a chance to wash her hair so she just threw a beanie on top and decided it was good enough.
She had been in her office since the boys had left for the locker room, editing and sending pictures to the social team. She had her earbuds in, not wanting to disturb anyone if they were still at the arena working as well. She was listening to the playlist Quinn had made for her when she found out he played for the Canucks.
When y/n moved in next door to Quinn, he had already been playing with the team for two whole seasons. Quinn had been walking out of the apartment building when he noticed the girl struggling to carry up all of her boxes from the UHaul to her new apartment. He offered to help her, especially since it was a rare day where he didn’t have a game nor did he have practice.
He ended up offering her to have dinner at his place when he realized they were next door neighbors. That night she ended up explaining to him how she got her BA in art and design and got a minor in sports management. He was surprised when she told him she was starting a new job for his team.
『••✎••』
“Yeah, I got my bachelor's in art and design and then I decided to get a minor in sports management just because I was hoping that would boost my chances of getting a job for a sports team, which ended up happening.”
Quinn raised his eyebrows as he cut up his food, “Oh really? Who are you working for now?”
She swallowed the piece of food in her mouth before wiping her mouth with her napkin, “I’m working for the Vancouver Canucks. I was pretty surprised when they said they wanted me, I mean they are an NHL Team.”
Quinn choked on the water he had been drinking when she said the Canucks, “You’re working for the Canucks?”
She looked at him oddly as he coughed up the water, his eyes watering. She didn’t understand why he was acting like this, “Yeah? Is there a problem that I’m not aware of?”
“Um, I play for the Canucks.”
Her eyes widened, “No fucking way.”
“Yeah, Quinn Hughes, number 43.”
“Oh, that’s a weird coincidence, I guess. I mean how often does stuff like this happen?”
Quinn chuckled, “Not very.”
『••✎••』
Later that night Quinn had taken her phone and made a playlist for her of the songs that always made him feel better before a game or just in the morning when he was on his way to practice. Ever since then, she had listened to that playlist when she needed a pick-me-up, wanting something familiar to her. 
She understood why Quinn liked this music before a game, it was upbeat and productive music for her. She was able to go into work mode when the song played, cleaning her office, editing photos, and adding graphics to them when the social team asked for some extra help.
When she was done she sighed when she saw it was 11. She knew she shouldn’t be driving this late at night but she had no other choice. She walked out into the hallway and walked outside the arena. It was cold in Vancouver, snow was falling on the ground. She wrapped herself tightly in her winter jacket as she made her way to her car but paused when she saw Quinn heading to his own.
He turned when he heard footsteps coming from behind him and waved when he saw who it was, “Hey, y/n/n!”
“Hi Quinny. Didn’t expect you to be staying here this late.” 
The boy shrugged, “Had a lot to talk about tonight, I guess.”
She nodded, “Yeah. Sorry about the loss.”
Quinn just sighed and nodded, “Thanks. Do you want a ride home? I know you hate driving home in the snow, especially when it’s this late- wait what were you doing here this late?”
She blushed but it went unnoticed since her cheeks were already turning a slight shade of pink from the cold, “I was editing photos and doing some stuff for the social team. They like it when I help, which is weird because I didn’t even really go to school for that. Also, why do you know that I don’t like driving home in the snow?”
Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, “I just remembered I guess.”
The two got in his car, Quinn reassuring her that they could go back in the morning to get her car. The first ten minutes of the ride back to their apartments were silent, the quiet sports channel of the radio playing in the background. When they brought up the Canucks loss from that night, she could tell Quinn got tense since his knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel. 
“You okay?”
Quinn relaxed a little at her voice but his body was still tense a little, “Yeah, just… I feel horrible right now.”
“Did Chloe ever text you? You know, to say something about the loss?”
That was a worse question. Quinn was annoyed at the question and also upset. She hadn’t texted him, in fact, the two hadn’t talked in five days with Chloe being across the country doing a string of photo shoots. He shook his head, “Nah, she’s probably sleeping, it’s like what? Three in the morning there?”
She just nodded her head and moved her head to look out of the window again. She watched as they passed buildings, still mesmerized by the snow and how it fell on the ground and the buildings. She looked back over at the boy to now see a sad look on his face, “I know how you feel, Quinn. And just know, it’s not your fault.”
“But it is though, right? I’m the captain, I’m supposed to make them better, I’m supposed to lead them to victory.”
“You can’t make them play better, Quinny. That’s what practice is for. You’re there to motivate them, inspire them, help them. You can’t make them do anything. Trust me, I know.”
Quinn looked at her in confusion, “You do?”
“Yeah, I was the captain of the girls' hockey team in college.”
“You played hockey?” Quinn asked, a grin making its way onto his face.
She shrugged, “Yeah. I was okay, I guess.”
“Okay? If you were the captain you had to have been more than okay.”
She nodded, “I was captain for only half of a season and then I got injured. Really set me back, especially during senior year. I was supposed to be out for almost the rest of the season. I could’ve played if we made the playoffs but we didn’t. And that was the extent of my hockey career.”
Quinn could see how sad she looked talking about this so he was quick to change the subject. The two were now talking about random nonsense, saying whatever was coming to mind until they reached the doors of their apartments.
“I should not have stayed at work that long. Tomorrow’s going to be a pain in the ass.”
“You’re telling me, I hate back-to-backs. We play well for the first one and then suck ass for the second because of how tired we are.”
“Well, you sucked ass today so maybe you’ll play well tomorrow.”
Quinn laughed at this, shooting her a smile, “Or maybe we’ll suck ass even more.”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans i can't help thinking this is how it ought to be laughing on a park bench thinking to myself hey, isn't this easy?’
It was one of the rare off days that the two of them had and Chloe, as usual, wasn’t around. The two were quick to set up plans with one another and go walking around. When y/n walked out of her apartment she saw Quinn standing outside of his, getting ready to text her, “Hey.”
The boy looked up from his phone and smiled, “Hey.”
Y/n gave Quinn a once over, noticing his pair of worn-out jeans, “You need some new jeans there, Quinner?”
He laughs, “Probably, but I never have time to go shopping.”
She grins, “Well luckily we are going out so we can go get some things. Come on!” She grabs his arm and pulls him to the elevator, the two sneaking glances at one another as they wait for it.
Quinn offered to drive them around, but she immediately said no, wanting to be able to walk around. The boy was amused by her immediate response and nodded, “Okay okay. We can walk, you weirdo.”
“Hey! Thank you for noticing.” She smiles and the two walk around downtown Vancouver for a while, stopping at a clothing store to get new jeans for him.
About an hour later all Quinn could hear was the complaints coming from the girl, “I’m tired. My feet hurt. And ‘m cold.”
“I told you we could’ve taken the car.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean some of her weight onto him.
“But I wanted to walk- Quinn look!”
He looked over to where y/n was now pointing and noticed the small ice cream shop on the corner, “Ice cream? It’s like 30 degrees out.”
She gave him a look, daring him to argue with her, “So?”
He held his arms up in surrender, lifting his arm from her shoulders leaving her feeling colder than before. His arm felt a little colder too, actually, the whole right side of his body felt colder as she moved away from him. They both looked at each other with awkward smiles on their faces before he ushered her to move forward, “Well come on then.”
She grinned and followed after him, a newfound pep in her step. When they got their ice cream, they made their way over to the park and sat down on one of the benches. Quinn was not fond of this idea, his whole body was cold and with him eating ice cream now, he sure as hell wasn’t getting any warmer.
They were talking about the upcoming banquet for the team, “I don’t understand these banquets. I don’t wanna go.”
Quinn whined like a little kid making y/n erupt in laughter. It was easy between them, they didn’t have to force conversation whenever they were together, they worked together so they saw each other almost all of the time, and they understood each other’s lifestyles, each other’s humor. Quinn could always talk to her about hockey which was nice especially when it was a hard game. 
That’s all y/n could think about as they sat on the bench, how easy it was. She didn’t want to be selfish but truly, why was Quinn with her? She had never once heard her ask him how his game went, he always told her that she was busy at a premier or doing whatever she was doing while she was away. She always yelled at him over the phone, she acted possessive, truly she felt bad for Quinn. He deserved better.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town i haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down’
Quinn’s smile was y/n’s favorite thing in the world. It made her smile, it made others smile, it was contagious. Every time she would be taking pictures on the ice and she would see Quinn with a smile plastered on his face she took a picture and usually saw others around him smiling as well. 
Truth be told, it was rare for Quinn to smile, at least a full one. The most she got out of him lately was a small smirk or a tiny side grin when she would make a joke or any time they ran into each other really. She didn’t know if it was him just being him and not wanting to smile or if it was Chloe.
They fought a couple of weeks ago, probably the worst one yet. She had been granted a small leave from the photo shoot so she came back to see Quinn, which shocked him. He had come home late from the game, they had won by a landslide and Quinn had gotten his first win as captain. They went out for drinks, even inviting y/n and some of the wags to go with them. She accepted and made friends with some of the girls, some even joking that she would be one soon. 
『••✎••』
Y/n might have had a little too much to drink, causing Quinn to have to drive her home, as usual. Quinn laughed as she stumbled down the hallway, talking about how she got so many pictures of him from tonight’s game, “I’m sure you did.”
She giggled, “I did! Believe me! They are all on my computer, I should make you my background.”
The boy blushed and shook his head, “Okay. I think you’ve had way too much to drink. Come on, where’s your keys?”
She could only mumble now, becoming increasingly tired as the thought of her bed on the other side of the door plagued her mind, “Pocket.”
Quinn reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the keys, keeping her upright with his arm wrapped around her waist. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside but before they even got a step into the apartment, Quinn’s door opened, “Quinn!”
Quinn looked surprised as he looked at his girlfriend standing in the entryway of his home, “Chloe? What are you doing here?”
“They gave me a break so I thought I would come and surprise you but I see you’re a little busy.”
A heavy glare settled on her face and Quinn looked apologetic, “Let me just get her inside then we will talk.”
Chloe only rolled her eyes and scoffed, walking back into his apartment. Quinn moved y/n to her bed, taking off her shoes and her jacket, “You need anything before I go?”
She shook her head. Quinn smiled at her before patting her calf and walking out of her apartment and into his own. It was only five minutes later that she could hear the screaming from the neighboring home. Y/n groaned at the noise before getting the urge to puke.
She ran into the bathroom and emptied her stomach into the toilet, groaning from the action. She leaned her head against the wall and listened to the sound of the two bickering back and forth. Ten minutes later she still sat there when there was a slam followed by footsteps outside in the hallway. 
She frowned when she heard something being thrown across the room and sighed to herself, wishing she could help him.
『••✎••』
And ever since then, Quinn’s smiles had been slim to nonexistent even when they won a game, or he scored a goal. When they hung out and watched a comedy movie he didn’t smile, just a small upturn of his mouth and that was it. 
Now it was the beginning of November and everyone was buzzing from the incredible start the Canucks had gotten off to. They were currently 8-2-1 going into the game against the Oilers and they were hoping to extend their win streak to four. 
Y/n was walking around in her usual attire in the arena, gathering pictures for later. She had gotten plenty from warm-ups and during the periods, taking a small break during intermissions before heading down to get some in the tunnel. 
Everyone erupted in cheers when the game was over, they had won 6-2. Y/n quickly put her skates on to head out for the stars of the game, trying not to get in anyone’s way as she did her job and they did theirs. She smiled when they announced Quinn as first star of the game, watching as he threw a stick over the boards, capturing the moment he turned around with a grin on his face.
All she could think about was that she was definitely going to use this in a video soon, even if Quinn did kill her for it. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night i'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry’
It had been a hard game for Quinn. Not only was it hard for Quinn with it being the Hughesbowl, but it was a hard loss for him and the team. They had done so well in getting back in the game, scoring three in 3rd, but alas it wasn’t enough. 
Quinn was taking it harder than anyone else, claiming that he should’ve done more for the team to win. He hadn’t done much in the game, blaming it on him for not doing enough for them. Before going out with his family he told them he had to do something, going to y/n’s office and knocking on the door. 
He didn’t get an answer, mostly because y/n had already left since she was extremely exhausted from the amount of running back and forth she had to do during the game. Quinn left disappointed, meeting back up with his family for dinner. 
He came back home and stopped in front of her door, “Y/n/n.”
Luckily, she had been right at the door, doing a little bit of cleaning around her apartment. She heard the whisper of her name, it was barely audible. She opened the door and smiled when she saw him, “Hey Quinn. What’s up?”
He didn’t say anything, just motioning with his hand if it was okay that he came inside. She stepped aside and the boy walked in, falling down on the couch. She approached him hesitantly, “Quinn? Are you okay?”
He looked up at her with tears in his eyes, “I’m not good enough am I?”
All the emotions came rushing to Quinn. Being constantly compared to his brothers, being constantly asked about them. Chloe was just using him for his money which he finally recognized a couple of days ago. He kept being told that he was overrated and that he shouldn’t be captain.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed and she walked over to him wrapping him in a hug, “What? Of course, you’re good enough Quinn. Who said that?”
Quinn shook his head, burying it into her shoulder, “I can’t escape it, y/n. Everywhere I go everyone is always comparing me to Jack and I’m so sick of it. It’s like I can’t do anything right. I let the team down, I should’ve done better tonight. Now everyone thinks I’m the worst Hughes and someone said Luke shouldn’t even be looking up to me. And they keep telling me I’m a failure.
Y/n’s heart broke at his confession but it shattered when he said the next words, “And no one loves me anymore, y/n/n. Chloe’s just using me, she never wanted me. God, I’m so stupid, I should’ve seen it coming.”
She rubbed his back and just let him let out all of his feelings. When it was silent for two minutes she pulled away from him and made her look into her eyes, “Listen to me, Quintin.”
He slightly smiled at the name, “You are no failure, Quinn. Believe me. You have been doing amazing this season, both personally and leading the team. You have led this team to 16 victories this season. And you led them to overtime twice and only lost one of them.”
“Yeah but I still lost them 8 games.”
“You couldn’t have done anything more than what you did, Quinn. You know what your guys’ record was last year through 25 games? 10-12-3. You won 6 more games this year. You have more goals at this point in the season than you did in the entire year last year, Quinn. Who cares that people, who are nobodies to you, are comparing you to Jack? You two have different experiences, you play two different positions, you play for two different teams. You do so much for Luke, I promise you. That kid will look up to you no matter what.”
Quinn’s eyes glistened with tears at her words, and the best thing was that he believed her and that was all that she could ask for. He nodded his head when she was done and slowly unwrapped himself from her, missing the embrace immediately.
She didn’t want him to be sad, or at least leave while sad, so she said the only thing that came to mind, “If it makes you feel any better. I think you’re the best looking Hughes.”
Quinn laughed loudly, wiping the tears from his eyes that were threatening to fall, “Thanks y/n/n.”
“Any time, you want some ice cream?” He only nodded and she got up to get it.
The two spent the next hour and a half eating ice cream on her couch watching a movie, before falling asleep on each other. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘and I know your favorite songs and you tell me 'bout your dreams think I know where you belong think I know it's with me’
It was a late night for both Quinn and y/n. The two were hanging out in her apartment after Quinn’s practice. They hadn’t had a game that night so they were on her couch watching whatever hockey game was on at that moment.
Y/n was sitting on her laptop editing some photos from the previous game, switching in between tabs quickly. Quinn was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them after he offered. She could hear the sizzling from the pan and called out, “What the hell are you making over there?”
Quinn looked down to see the noodles and furrowed his eyebrows, “Noodles!”
“I thought you were cooking up a mean meal, but noodles? I let you into my house and allow you to make me dinner and you make me noodles?”
She walked into the kitchen with her laptop and sat down at the counter. Quinn looked over at her, offended, “Hey you said you didn’t care.”
She giggled, “I know. So Chef Quinn, what kind of noodles are you making?”
“Fettuccine.”
“Oh, so you’re making me fancy noodles. I’ll forgive you.”
“Why thank you m’lady. Whatcha doing over there?” 
Quinn walked around the counter to look at her laptop, “Are you looking at pictures of my teammates?”
“If we’re being honest here, they are my main models.”
“And I thought I was your favorite.” He placed a hand to his chest before going back to check on the fettuccine.
“You are, I finished yours already. See there’s a folder that’s called ‘Captain Quintin’.” She spun her computer around and showed him, “Awe you love me.”
She shrugged, a blush rising to her cheeks, “Maybe…”
“You want to listen to some music?”
She nodded and pulled up Spotify on her computer, “What’s your favorite song?”
“And why do you want to know?”
She looked up at him with a deadpan face, “Are you shitting me?”
He smiled, “No.” He took the laptop and typed in his favorite song and added it to the queue, and then a few more after that.
“What’s your favorite?”
“And why do you want to know?”
“So I can add it!”
“It’s You Belong with Me.”
Quinn quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, making sure that the song played first. When it came on, y/n immediately started singing it and Quinn looked over at her with a smile. He could get used to this.
When dinner was done, she took her computer back to the living room and sat it down before walking back into the kitchen to sit down at the counter once more, making sure they could both see the TV.
Halfway through eating, Quinn looked over at her, “What’s your dream?”
She finished the piece of fettuccine she was eating and looked at him, “What do you mean?”
“Like what’s your main dream for life.”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I really like my job so probably keeping that job is part of it. I want to have two or four kids. And I want them close in age or at least two of them are. Like the oldest would be close in age and the youngest would be close in age.”
“Why two or four? Why not three?”
“Because I had two older brothers and they were both like 8 years older than me and I always felt left out. I don’t want my kids to feel like that. I mean not that you are like that with Jack and Luke but at least you guys are close in age right? You guys like the same thing, hell you do the same thing for a living.”
Quinn nods, understanding what she was saying, “Yeah, I see that.”
“What about you? What is your dream, Quinn Hughes?”
He looked flustered, “I want to keep playing hockey, of course. I want kids but I don’t know how many. And I want a good partner. I want someone who understands that I have to travel a lot for work and how much pressure it is. I need someone who understands hockey and likes it. Chloe understands it, which is nice.”
She nods and smiles but saddened by the fact he still was with Chloe. She wasn’t good for him and she thought he was slowly starting to understand that. They continued to eat in silence, negative thoughts chewing away at both Quinn's and y/n’s minds.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? been here all along so, why can't you see? you belong with me’
Y/n stepped into the hallway, taking out the trash that had been overflowing in her garbage can for the past two days. She took a couple steps and saw Quinn stepping out of his apartment, “Hey.”
She noticed his tux he was wearing, he was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves when she spoke, “Hi.”
The two stood in an awkward silence before Quinn asked, “Are you going tonight?”
It wasn’t that she forgot the banquet was tonight, it was more of the fact that she didn’t want to spend an entire night looking at Chloe wrapped around Quinn. She shook her head, “Nah, I’ve got some work to do.”
He nodded, confused a little since she had said earlier in the week that she planned on going. He shrugged it off as just a simple plan change and frowned when he looked her in the eyes, “Wish you were.”
She smiled and nodded, “I’m sorry to leave you to the wolves, Quinner.”
“You should be, it’s heartbreaking to know that my favorite person isn’t going to be there. How will I survive this evening?”
“You won’t, trust me.” She patted him on the back before going to walk to the garbage chute, “Here, I’ll just take it downstairs, I’m going that way anyways.”
She went to protest but Quinn was already taking it out of her hands and walking away, “Thank you.”
He waved her off, shooting her a smile, “Anytime.”
She walked back into her apartment and walked into her room, staring at the dress that hung on the back of her closet. She didn’t want to go, but after the comment that Quinn made she had a change of heart. She didn’t take long putting her makeup on, curling her hair as fast as possible. She threw on her dress and raced out the door, driving to the venue as quickly as she could.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? you belong with me have you ever thought just maybe you belong with me?’
Walking into the venue, y/n was nervous. She knew little to no people there mostly because her friends had already said they weren’t going or were going to be later than she was. She only knew a few guys on the team, including Quinn, and their wives or girlfriends.
She waved at some of the guys she walked past, lots of people making a clearing for her because of how she looked. Some of the guys that were single looked at her with a wide gaze, trying to decide if she was single or not. 
The piece of paper she had burned a hole through her pocket as she walked. It took Quinn five minutes to notice that she was there, having turned around and locked eyes with her. His eyebrows raised in amusement, a grin making its way onto his face.
He waved bye to the group he was talking to and started to make his way over to the girl. He only got a few steps before Chloe took him by the arm, “Hey Quinn. I’m surprised you didn’t see me yet. You look so hot tonight.”
Quinn just smiled awkwardly before pulling away and continuing his previous path to the girl. Chloe looked at the two in shock and scoffed, walking away from the growing crowd. When he stood right in front of her he smiled, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
She nodded, “Yeah I had a change of heart.”
The boy couldn’t really make out any words, starstruck by how beautiful she looked. The only thing he could do was reach into his pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. He straightened it out and showed it to her and she grinned, tears making their way into her eyes as she pulled out her own.
Everyone gasped in awe as they read the signs, both of them saying ‘I Love You’. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek, “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I remember everything about you, y/n/n."
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘you belong with me’
It had been a long night, the game had lasted longer than everyone had expected. The two now always drove to and from work together when they could. Quinn would stay after the game until she was ready to go and vice versa.
Right now, they were laying in Quinn’s bed in his apartment, Quinn watching as she edited pictures from tonight's game. He had an arm wrapped around her as she laid her head on his chest, her knees brought up so she could lay her computer on them.
He smiled when she kept getting pictures of him and he went to say something, “How many pictures of me do you have?”
She smiled, “You’re my boyfriend now, you are going to have a lot of pictures of you taken. Plus, I don’t think the fans would mine, I’m doing god’s work, Quinn.”
“What are you trying to say there? Do you think I’m cute?”
A blush rushed to her cheeks, “No, like I said. I’m just doing the fans a favor.” 
Quinn shut her laptop, placing it on the nightstand, “I think you’re doing yourself a favor.”
She hid her face in his chest, “Maybe.”
He laughed and wrapped both of his arms around her, tightening his hold, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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⬂ 𝗩𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂
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Details.
For @the-californicationist's “Cali’s Nameless Challenge” writing challenge!
(Remember to leave your guess of who this is about in the comments!)
[ Challenge Masterlist ]
words: 560 (pushed it a little SORRY). cw: MDNI!, smut(tish), piv, terms of endearment (including daddy), you/your pronouns, afab!reader
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You've heard the recruits talking. They always do when they don't think anyone's listening. They're very judgmental, these kids. Makes you wanna go particularly hard on them during training when you remember the way they gossip.
They're always always talking about others, like school children, disrespecting their commanding officers, talking about their hair (head, facial and otherwise), their habits (smoking, drinking), their personal lives (or what they expect them to be), and, of course, their body types.
Their most recent victim, or, at least, the one you've heard referred to most often, is one you didn't expect. They know better than to mention someone like that, or, at least, you hoped they did.
Sure, he's not very intimidating looking, average height, average weight. His voice doesn't ring out through the halls whenever he's pissed and reaming out some recruit or soldier that serves beneath him.
But that should be more of a reason for them to fear him, not a reason for them to speak about him.
They lack the life/career experience to realize that bigger/louder doesn't always equal scarier.
Soldiers like you, like him, don't get where you are, at your age, without being a scary motherfucker, ready to shoot someone right between their eyes, only to then turn around and go have lunch as if nothing's happened. Especially not here.
But maybe you're biased.
After all, you notice the details about him.
The way his voice coos gently, softly, politely, full of understanding and care whenever he speaks to the soldiers around him.
The way his hands are calloused and rough, long fingers with cracked skin around the fingertips and knuckles.
The way his arms, ever hairy, despite rarely on display, cross over his chest when he's paying his full attention to people speaking to or around him.
The way his thick brows scrunch judgmentally when he hears someone say something stupid.
The way he leans back on window sills and balcony railings to light his cigarettes.
The way he looks at you, those big brown eyes all soft and fond, too gentle for a man that regularly trades shots with criminals.
The way he smiles and half-smirks, especially when you press your nose to his cheek, and pepper his moles with kisses.
The way his eyes, weighed down by deep eye bags, flutter over you whenever you lower yourself onto his leaky cock, your ass bouncing off his thighs with fervor.
The way he purrs words of praise in your ear while he fucks you from behind, his hands pushing down on your lower back, his body curled over yours to whisper in your ear.
The way he calls your name, first, middle, last, your rank too.
The way he uses terms of endearment.
"That's it, princess."
"Doing so well for me, baby girl."
"That feels good, doesn't it, pretty girl."
"Don't be too loud, can't let people hear how good I'm making you feel, heart."
"Just like that, moan for daddy, cutie."
What do those stupid fucking kids know? Nothing.
If only they could see him the way you do. But they can't. He doesn't want anyone to know the way he looks under his uniform.
All the better too... Easier to surprise people by how much of a punch he packs with a single haymaker.
Not to mention, you're not keen on sharing.
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hi Silver! o/ because that fanart made me wonder - would you happen to know when/where Dick's stuffed elephant plush Zitka turns up in the comics?
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GREETINGS CAM <3333 THAT ART WAS SO CUTE
Yeah, I think your instincts are right - it's a truly adorable bit of transformative fandom, but I'm 95% percent sure it's not comics canon. Barbara has canon plushies, but I don't think anyone else does.
I got kinda invested in the investigation (it's hard to prove a negative!) and I ended up typing out an entire History of Elinore/Zitka, so, uh, if you're curious, meet me below the cut for:
Where does Elinore / Zitka - the animal - appear in comics?
Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?
Where does Elinore / Zitka appear in comics?
We're gonna go in chronological order!
Dick's circus elephant friend was first created for practical reasons: in Batman 436, Marv Wolfman does a big expanded flashback to Dick's circus backstory as a way to subtly show us Tim before officially introducing him (so that we can have a technically-solvable mystery-of-Tim's-identity in LPoD). In this comic, there's an elephant named Elinore who loves Dick:
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Aww. Such a cute elephant!
Batman 436 comes out in August 1989. New Titans 60 comes out a few months later, in November, and guess what? When Dick visits the circus, he is suddenly surprised by an unexpected blast from the past! It turns out that even though it's been years, Elinore still remembers him!
Here's the part where Elinore remembers Dick:
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SUCH a cute elephant. I love her.
(Guess who else still remembers Dick even though it was so long ago. Guess which other character is about to be an unexpected blast from the past. Guess which character Elinore is directly paralleling guess guess guess sorry everything is about Dick and Tim in my mind but I can focus I swear)
Four years later, in 1993, Batman: The Animated Series retells Dick's origin story. They like and keep Wolfman's elephant, but they change her name to Zitka:
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Wolfman doesn't return to the elephant beyond those two appearances, and a few years down the line, New Titans gets cancelled and Wolfman's not writing Dick anymore anyway. So the animal gets abandoned for a while, until Devin Grayson, a fan of both Wolfman and B:tAS, revives the Wolfman-era Titans team in JLA/Titans and then the ongoing series Titans 1999.
Grayson then brings back the elephant in a flashback to Dick's past in Titans 16 (Jun 2000), where she imports the B:tAS name. Sometimes I'm skeptical of TV-to-comics imports, but honestly, I endorse this one. You lose the alliteration, which is a shame, but IMO Zitka is a better elephant name than Elinore.
Here's Dick with the newly-christened Zitka in Titans 16:
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Grayson also briefly references the elephant in Gotham Knights 20 and - in a final angsty callback - in Nightwing 88 (Feb 2004), where Zitka tries futilely to comfort Dick in the midst of his trauma conga line:
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... And... honestly, I think that's it for comic appearances? The two Wolfman comics plus the three Grayson comics.
Both Wolfman and Grayson are writing multiple titles - Batman, New Titans, Titans, Gotham Knights, and Nightwing between the two of them, spanning a big chunk of Dick's post-Crisis canon - and both writers use the elephant for heartwarming moments of nostalgia, which means if you're doing a post-Crisis readthrough for Dick, Elinore/Zitka feels memorable. But I don't think she actually shows up that much.
For post-2011, I am not as well-informed - throwing this out to the dash? anyone know? - but I feel like Zitka the heartwarming symbol of Dick's heartwarming circus past is, uh, thematically very at odds with the Court of Owls evil!circus vibes, so my instinct is that this story element was almost certainly dropped in the reboot.
Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?
In WFA, yes; in main comics continuity, no. Technically, I have not read every comic ever published, so I could be wrong!! But I don't think so.
Below, find my rambling reasoning on the tonal vibes of pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, and post-2011, and why this particular story element doesn't seem right to me for the first two.
Pre-Crisis (...okay, mostly the Silver Age): stuffed animal, yes or no?
tl;dr no, requires too much background knowledge on the part of the reader, plus the elephant wasn't a thing until later
Elinore doesn't get created until post-Crisis, but also just generally, pre-Crisis callbacks are more along the lines of this reference in Batman 129 (published in 1960), where, wow, Batman and Robin are hunting jewel thieves - and it turns out Robin recognized this strongman! BUT HOW?!
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The comic goes on to recap Dick's entire origin story in flashback, on the assumption that you may not know it.
(BTW, if you'd like to know more about Haly's Circus throughout the years, nightwingology has a great post here summarizing a lot of fun plotlines and characters!)
Basically: Silver Age comics are very self-consciously episodic and kid-friendly; they're not generally gonna do overly-elaborate callbacks because they don't know what comics their kid readers may have randomly picked up or remember.
By the time of post-Crisis, comic books were being written for an adult audience buying from the direct market, i.e. readers who are collecting whole runs & don't need or want Dick's origin story to be recapped to us in full every time it's referenced. That's why in post-Crisis, we get stuff like "hey, neat, this particular soda brand is getting mentioned in several different books!!" or "in order to understand this story arc, buy SIXTEEN DIFFERENT COMICS in FIVE DIFFERENT RUNS and read them ALL ACCORDING TO A NUMBERED ORDER and also you better be following the individual plotlines and recognize these five minor characters who we don't bother to introduce!! Good luck!!" But the elaborate post-Crisis plotlines - and subtler worldbuilding like a stuffed animal callback to Dick's backstory - don't make a lot of story sense UNLESS you're imagining your readers as completionist adult fans.
So IMO a stuffed animal wouldn't be a pre-Crisis thing unless it was The Episodic Story Of the Week, and I don't think a stuffed animal is action-adventure-y enough for the fast-paced storytelling of the Silver Age. (Unless it, like, came to life and tried to eat you or something.)
Post-Crisis: stuffed animals, yes or no?
tl;dr: no, Dick's a manly tough guy, he's not gonna have a stuffed animal, that'd be lame, like something Tim might do
Part of the edgy grimdark adult vibes in 80s/90s comics is that some characters who used to be kinda silly & goofy & lighthearted - like Batman and Robin - get reimagined as Serious and Angsty and Edgy in a Tough Cool Manly Brooding Way. This massively affects characterization for Bruce, Dick, and Bruce and Dick's relationship.
(I obviously love this change & love the tense Bruce-and-Dick interactions, but plenty of fans of the earlier fluffy comics really disliked the edgy retcons of Miller / Wolfman / Starlin / et al.)
The upshot is that post-Crisis is a period when you could have a recurring reference like a stuffed elephant, but you wouldn't have a stuffed elephant, not for Dick. I think a toy like that would be too cutesy / childish / effeminate to give a male character in post-Crisis, unless you were poking fun at him.
Now, you could probably let Tim have a stuffed animal, because Tim is sometimes cool but also sometimes a tryhard loser who is faking being cool and not entirely pulling it off (see e.g. the Robin comic where he practices tough-guy faces in the mirror, or the Teen Titans comic where Conner discovers his cringy Enya CD, or when he's fanboying over Connor and it's awkward, etc etc.). A stuffed animal would be deeply embarrassing, and you'd have to be careful to compensate by having Tim do something cool afterward - but Tim's character concept allows for "he's kind of a loser sometimes."
But Dick isn't!! In post-Crisis, Dick's a tough / impressive / "cool guy" character, the kind of guy anyone would want to be, even in the flashbacks where he's Robin, and even in the stories where he's more lighthearted than angsty. It'd be kinda lame for Dick to have a stuffed elephant, so he wouldn't. I feel like Dick would be more likely to poke fun at it if someone had one, like when he's making fun of Wally for liking the Hardy Boys. Dick could have a Batman action figure, at most, and if he had one he would have it ironically.
Basically: in post-Crisis, a male character hugging a stuffed elephant feels more likely to be a punchline to me, not something poignant. (Even with Tim, Tim could have an embarrassing stuffed animal, but he couldn't hug it when sad - that's too far. Maybe Booster Gold might do this. Probably he wouldn't, but spiritually, he would. Sorry Booster ilu! <3)
Instead, Dick instinctively deals with his inner turmoil like the TORTURED ACTION HERO he is: by punching things and brooding and yelling and joining the mob and sleeping on rooftops and going on obsessive secret missions and acquiring Angsty Stubble!! Just like Batman!
(Technically I don't know if Bruce ever joined the mob but you know he would.)
Anyway as you know this is my favorite continuity and I am poking fun affectionately, but uh, yeah sdfsfdsfs. No stuffed animals.
Post-2011 / Infinite Frontier / Wayne Family Adventures: stuffed animals, yes or no?
tl;dr it's in WFA! Probably not anywhere else, but it could be.
Post-2011 stuff tends to be cutesier overall, most of all in the current Infinite Frontier era. So I don't feel like this would be tonally out-of-line with IF comics. Taylor tends to go for more meme-y references rather than fanfic references, though.
So the obvious best fit is WFA, which is aiming for a rough approximation of Silver Age family-friendly vibes - wholesome, episodic plots, Teaching Good Moral Lessons For The Youth, etc. - plus lots of Easter eggs for fanfic readers and some comic references.
And look, here we are:
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Aww.
Whew - that's everything I could find!
Anyway as you can probably tell, I LOVE the elephant, so this was a very entertaining rabbit hole to go down, thank you <3
#dick grayson#anyone with more info feel free to chime in & we can crowdsource <3#i do think the toy elephant is awfully cute though <3#total digression but i was thinking about it as i was writing:#i'm fascinated by the ways that the post-crisis batboys & their stories can intersect with 90s masculinity and all its issues with stoicism#and i'm pro-queering and gender-bending - 90s comics were a total boys' club so i think it's neat that transformative fandom isn't#but i do love 90s masculinity and All Its Issues too & one of the things i find compelling about the dick-tim-bruce trio#& especially dick's place in it - is the unspoken hierarchy whereby bruce is manlier than dick & dick is manlier than tim#and so dick's in the middle as this somewhat softer-character who aspires to be a harsher & more stoic & ultimate manly-man character#caught in the middle between robin & batman & what each role represents#and like. batman is both manhood & the only desirable thing to be AND ALSO it represents this immense narrowing of possibility#because so much of stereotypical masculinity is about reducing the range of emotions you're allowed to have or express#and dick is both incredibly conflicted about bruce AND wants to be just like him & by extension is conflicted about masculinity writ large#so a lot of dick's interactions with tim veer between trying on a frat-boy-ish 'I'm The Manly Guy' persona vs. giving up on it#or trying on imitations of Bruce's Batman persona but also trying to backtrack out of it bc he doesn't like how it feels etc etc#ANYWAY i think what i am trying to say is that if tim had a stuffed animal dick would be entertained & poke mild fun at him#and call him 'teddy' for the next hour or something while tim got increasingly defensive about how the teddy bear was steph's#and/or about how the teddy bear was OLD and tim doesn't even care about it and also WHATEVEr i'm above this#and to an uninformed observer this might look like bullying BUT ACTUALLY#this ritual would IN FACT be very reassuring to both of them + tim would feel WAY better afterward than if dick had ignored it#because by poking fun at him dick shows he still respects tim enough to tease him thus subtextually exorcising the threat of wimpiness#plus allowing tim to defend himself & demonstrate that he can take a joke so they've both reaffirmed their masculinity to each other#& they don't have to be scared of the teddy bear and all it represents anymore#however also afterward dick would have a brief nostalgic flashback to when he was a kid & had a teddy bear & feel weird about the memory#because he would be unable to articulate to himself that what he misses is a past when he allowed himself to be vulnerable#anyway this wouldn't actually happen in comics but it's what would happen in my soul. you know.#ask tag#zitka
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the-other-art-blog · 2 days
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Why Benophie season is the perfect way to finish the first half of the Bton stories?
Now that Benophie season is unofficially confirmed, I've come to the conclusion that this was the greatest way to end the first half of Bton. It needed to be s4.
In the ton, marriage is about status. And while all Bton marriages are love matches, they are also incredibly beneficial for their position in society. The ENTIRE family's position in society.
Anthony is a viscount, an influential one, but in the nobility hierarchy, he's second to last.
Daphne climbed up 3 steps when she married Simon and became a Duchess.
Francesca will climb one step when she marries John.
Kate didn't have a title or wealth, but a married Viscount is an improvement over a rake Viscount.
Colin is only a Mr., but I will be surprised if the Featherington baby race doesn't end with Pen having a boy who will become Baron. He's going to be the father of a Lord thanks to Penelope.
So you can see how these marriages are extremely beneficial to them and elevate the entire family. Daphne understood this when she said that her marriage would set the prospects for her sisters. Anthony also knew that his choice of viscountess would affect the family.
So, by the time Benedict meets Sophie, the family will have a viscounty + relations with a duchy, an earldom, and a barony. They just need a march to have the full set.
Enter Benedict who will fall in love with a servant AND an illegitimate daughter.
If he marries her, he risks undoing all the work his siblings have done to maintain the family in good standing.
The book doesn't address this, but I wish the show would. It would add another dimension to Benedict's reasons to not marry Sophie. He would be thinking of the family. What would happen to Eloise, Hyacinth, and Gregory? They will no longer be siblings to nobles, they will be related to an illegitimate child and servant. Who will want to marry them? Is it fair to affect their prospects when they haven't even had a chance at society? (Read The Secrets of Sir Richard Kenworthy) Perhaps it hurts the already-married siblings too.
I'm thinking about Ben and Violet's scene. Sophie refuses to be a mistress and Ben has already decided to marry her. But there's still this issue lingering. Is it right to drag the whole family to get what he wants? Wouldn't that be the most selfish thing anyone could do? In the book, Violet says this,
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Imagine if she adds, "and your siblings will support you too."
EDIT: The thing about this scene is that Benedict was ready to leave if the family didn't support him and Sophie.
This is also a great way to bring back the Sharmas' background. Mary was cast out for marrying a clerk, leaving Edwina in an unfavorable position. If the Queen hadn't named her the diamond, it would have been very difficult for her to get a good match. Not to mention that Mary's parents considered hated Kate and insulted her parents for being common people.
You can see why Benedict is afraid of the family's reaction. The Sheffields said that after Mary left, they couldn't show their faces in London for years. He wouldn't want to do that to his family. Sophie wouldn't want that either.
This is why it is so great to have Benophie come in s4. Not that a duchy and a viscount wouldn't have been enough, but this way is much more dramatic and LEGENDARY.
Despite the risks, the family will support Benedict AND Sophie. They'll support her too cause they know her and they love her even before they knew about Ben's feelings.
It's a test, not only for Benedict but for the family.
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raina-at · 3 days
Text
Pride
Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!
A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!
I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.
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"Dad."
"Hmm?"
"Dad!"
John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"
Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.
"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.
"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"
"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.
"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."
"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.
"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."
"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."
"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."
"You think I do?"
Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like  'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."
John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.
"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.
John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"
She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"
John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."
Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.
"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."
Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"
"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"
She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.
"Is he good to you? Good for you?"
She nods again.
"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"
Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"
"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."
Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."
John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"
"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"
"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."
Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.
John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.
----
Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.
Tags under the cut as usual.
@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown
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amevello-blue · 2 days
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Yo back up Donny tried to comfort Raph? This I gotta see
Yes but first of all you have to sit through my rant about this entire scene
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They're all standing back to give Donny his space with Leo. They're all worried, hands clenched, tense, but Raph's the only one with his arms crossed over his chest. He's close off right now. They're sharing vulnerabilities, emotions. Raph is not. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want anything to show.
Raph scoffs and jokes "I think you got him hanging on your every word, Don." And Leo stirs. Casey's the one who comments on it, saying, "I think he heard you, Raphy."
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Everyone looks kinda intent on this revelation, surprised, but determined. Raph genuinely looks surprised and stunned and almost dare I say frightened? Some of that emotion is leaking through.
Then Mikey does his story, and Raph is... less than impressed. His arms are crossed over his chest again, he's scoffing, he's insulting Leo, saying he's not waking up because he's afraid.
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He gets upset. "He got his butt whooped, and now he's too chicken to come back and face it!"
Mikey looks worried, upset, but Donny gets this moment of... Realization. He knows what Raph's doing. He knows Raph's going to say things he doesn't mean. He knows Raph.
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Donny says, "that's enough, Raph." He doesn't scold him, or get mad at him about it. Just. Set his hand on his shoulder and says that's enough. That's enough getting angry at Leo when we all know that it's not Leo you're angry at.
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Raph's trying really hard. He turns away from Donny. He's squeezing his eyes shut. He's trying not to cry. This is the comforting part I mean.
He shakes Don's hand off, which surprises Donny. Implying this method has worked to calm Raph down before.
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"Well I say who needs ya? It's not like we can't get on without you playing fearless leader." Interestingly when Raph says that they'd be fine without him, it focuses on Leo, who is bruised and unconscious and spent hours in the rain trying to escape the Foot because he couldn't bring them back to April's. He knew he couldn't bring them back to April's. He could have gotten help there, but that would risk putting his family in danger.
Then, when you see Raph again...
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He's crying. And Donny's shock has turned to genuine concern for Raph.
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And he turns away from Donny more, and Donny's expression softens from concern to understanding. The fact that this scene is set up like this, where Raph is crying and Donny is the one watching him in the background, it hits me a certain way. Donny doesn't cry. Not after Kirby, not after Honeycutt, not when he realizes that he's going to have to kill his entire family to stop the Shredder. (In Exodus and in SAINW.) But Raph's here, crying, at their first big defeat. One of them has been defeated, broken, and only lived because their enemy was playing with him like a cat toy.
And Donny is RIGHT THERE.
Anyway, Raph tells the story of how he accepted Leo's leadership when they were kids, that strongest and bravest do not necessarily make for the best leader who makes the best decisions for the team.
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And he's struggling again. "I don't even know why I told you that story. I guess I just... What I'm tryin to say is..." And he can't finish his sentence. He just trails off he clutches at his head, his face, he can't look at anyone, can't let them see the expression he's making.
And Leo, who has only reacted to Raph's voice this entire time, is only shown to be reacting to Raph's voice, stirs again.
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Splinter reassures him this time. "Your brother hears you, Raphael. He understands."
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And Raph, he doesn't say anything. He just. Goes to the window. And imo is processing the fact that he knows they can't survive without Leo. They need their fearless leader (a nickname that Raph gave him in the first place.) That's what that story meant. They need Leo. Raph needs Leo.
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anyway the whole scene makes me incredibly emotional. The farmhouse arc wasn't just a Leo arc, it was very much a Raph arc as well. It was learning his brother isn't fearless. Isn't invincible. Leo is breakable. Raph literally helps Leo put himself (and his swords) back together. And I don't think Raph would have ever realized that Leo needed that kind of help if this scene hadn't happened earlier.
Cause the thing is, Leo was afraid. He was terrified of coming back and facing that failure. Failure is SUCH a big part of his character, his fear of it, his fight against it, and Raph... Raph hit the nail on the head. But telling stories of the times Leo was strong, the times that his family has needed him, was what brought Leo back.
And I think Raph realized at that point that. Maybe Leo needs help sometimes. Maybe he isn't Mr Perfect Ninja Son. Maybe Raph can be the one to help.
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luhafraser · 3 days
Text
Hello Anons!
"This" about Sam is his PUBLIC LIFE!
It's not his REAL PERSONAL LIFE!
How I know? Wasn't it clear how "this" was a setup? If Sam was in a real relationship with this woman, do you really think this would have been exposed like it was on Just Jared?
What I think? That was "a shot in the dark" attempt to generate content and improve Sam's numbers on socials. Let's face it, no one can stand "Nobleman, whiskey and MPC" anymore, except his "mommies". (And those inflatable animals... Oh my 🤦🏻‍♀️)
As I said before, for me, Sam created a character of himself... A Sam Heughan for his fans and general public.
This Sam is nothing more than that Sam from Waypoints who can't commit to a relationship. Isn't this exactly the message he gives us when he appears with an escort???
But I believe Sam when he says he's very protective of his personal life. Waypoints may have real-life elements, but it was written to show what he wants his fans to see and believe about his personal life. In one way or another we all do this on our Instagram accounts.
I really think Sam tries to protect the ones he loves, and I'm sorry for anyone who thinks otherwise, but Sam has never done that for any of those women he's seen with.
But he clearly does it for his family. And the curious thing (or not 😜)? He does this for Caitríona... If we think that most of the time Sam is the one who provides any silly content for this fandom to discuss/theorize. Meanwhile, Caitríona is somewhat spared. She only “comes back” because even she needs to show her face and give him a rest 😜😅
At this moment, no one remembers to discuss the e-mail about FMN Gin... What a fiasco to encourage people to look at social media, which contain minimal information, especially about projects (oops ... one project)... Posts from 2020. Even Caitríona's account is not attractive. 🤦🏻‍♀️
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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*does a little dance*
vil prompts you say? Can i get your take on Vil being confronted by Yuu's real and imminent return home? And it's their only chance too (ie. the portal can only be opened with a meteor traveling overhead and surprise surprise its passing NOW they have three days max)
*does a little jig, going away*
you guys love torturing this man omg. so much angst. I'm about to pour all my abandonment issues into him ikyk
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summary: yuu leaving type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty, post-book 7 author's note: my partner has been ignoring me for the past few days (I can't figure out why) so vil is about to experience pain, as he should
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There are only six visible letters in lonely, and a thousand more hiding behind them.
The word carries such a weight with it, its meaning and its leaden implications, crushing the lungs of all who dare to shoulder it. It's a sore, tender sort of hurt, one that constricts the chest and numbs the limbs. Paralyzing, strangulating.
They say beauty is pain, but Vil has never felt more hideous in his life.
He had known; of course he had known. There was always a possibility you'd get your chance to return to your home, a world alien to him, and never come back. He'd been preparing himself for that reality from the moment he met you.
It didn't make it hurt any less.
Love is blind, but it's ignorant, too. Vil had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, covering it up with an if rather than a when, like throwing a veil over a tombstone. He had convinced himself that the chances of you leaving were slim, that when the time came, years from then, he'd be ready.
He wasn't counting on a few months.
"It works for about three days," you explain, a giddy smile on your face. He forces himself to share the expression. "The spell is so powerful, it can only be cast under specific circumstances... if I miss this, who knows when my next chance will be?"
Vil is an actor, yes, but this is different. This isn't something he's reading off a page to a room full of production assistants and actors. This is you and him, alone, tangled in an uncertain future with no ending in 12-point Courier.
His voice cracks. "That's wonderful,"
Sevens, is he selfish.
A part of him wants to slap you across the face and call you an idiot for even thinking about leaving him here, let alone being excited about it, but he can't even move his feet from where he's standing.
He should be celebrating with you.
He should be happy that you get to escape this terrible place. You get to go home, where you're accepted as you are, and loved, and where you belong...
But you belong with him. He accepts you. He loves you. Why do you need anyone else? What can they offer than he can't?
It's an egotistical fantasy Vil holds in the back of his mind for the rest of the day, one where you wake up and realize that your place is here, by his side, and not a world away from him.
He tries to convince himself it's not the end yet. Perhaps the spell will fail. Perhaps Crowley will change his mind. Perhaps someone else will overblot and throw the school into chaos. Each thought is more indulgent than the last, but without them, he might have lost his mind before noon.
What is he supposed to do?
Smile and wave while the only person who has ever understood and loved him unconditionally leaves him forever? Make a fool of himself pretending to be happy for you?
Every second without the certainty of seeing you the next day feels like an eternity.
It's wrong. He knows that. He can't keep you chained to the foot of his throne like a pet. You want to go, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along.
Once again, Vil only comes in second.
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ao3commentoftheday · 7 hours
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i've seen you (or i'm pretty sure it was you) give people advice that boils down to like. just write the scenes you WANT to write, basically, and skip the rest. which i think i want to try to do more because i do NOT have the bandwidth for long or complex stories right now. but i'm wondering if there are good ways to contextualize snapshots like that? like would you suggest adding more context to the metadata/tags/author's notes? or even in the text itself, like do you have suggestions for how to establish or distill a larger AU or story into like. an introductory paragraph?
(also your blog is great, and also you do good work, and i'm sorry if i'm mixing up who said this specific thing. i might have mentioned that i don't have any bandwidth for things lmfao)
I'm forever telling people to skip the boring parts and just write what's fun. There are probably folks out there who wish I'd shut up about it 🤣
I tend to do most of my context-setting in my tags and summary, but author's notes can be useful too if you want to go that route.
To do that, you need to have a clear idea of what it is that you're actually going to write and then you also have to know what your readers need to know in order dive right in with you. But I want to put the emphasis on need to know there. you don't have to get into all of the nitty gritty details first.
If you're writing something smutty in the context of the characters being in a relationship - even though they've never met in canon - then you can tag your fic with established relationship and put in whatever tags related to smut you want, then write a simple summary of the set up. "A and B shower together - and not just to save water."
The reader doesn't need to know how they met or why they got together or when this is happening. They just want to see their ship have shower sex.
If your characters are usually in the Star Trek universe but you want to write them into a period romance, tag your work with regency AU or Bridgerton AU and then give a summary snapshot of what they'll be doing in that setting. "Janeway and Chakotay chaperone Nelix's ball, but rather than simply watching the younger people court, they find themselves the recipients of a matchmaking attempt."
Your readers already know the characters, and they can understand the setting from your tags and summary, so you're ready to get started.
The more you do it, the better you'll get at distilling your idea down into a 1-3 sentence summary.
Characters are in place doing thing and issue arises.
Villain takes action and now our heroes need to fix that
A and B are in current relationship status but inciting incident changes that
In a world where X is true, characters need to do a thing. Unfortunately, Y happens and now they are left doing something else instead. Will they be able to achieve their goal?
One of the shortest fics I've ever posted to AO3 is 37 words. It's an Original Work, so people are coming into it with no information. And yet, between my title, my tags, my summary, and the series it's a part of it is 100% intelligible to anyone in any fandom. [link] I had a joke that I wanted to tell, and I think I landed it pretty well.
Readers will fill in the blanks that you've left empty. All you have to do is give them enough information to fill in whatever you don't provide.
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feralrabidcrow · 3 days
Text
My Merc LGBTQ Headcanons
Disclaimer: my headcanons aren't set in stone so these are like, what I assume them to be in the average fic I write unless stated otherwise. For example, usually I headcanon Medic as bisexual, but I might make him gay in an AU if I want to explore that instead. And I might make a merc I usually headcanon as cis trans if that's a story I want to explore with them.
Scout: Bisexual and hasn't quite come to terms with it yet. He has a strong preference for women, but being stuck living closely with a bunch of men definitely has him experiencing thoughts he never did before.
Soldier: Transgender and technically bisexual, but he thinks he's straight because he considers having sex with Demoman every night 'masculine male bonding to strengthen our manly friendship'. Demoman doesn't have the heart to tell him that yeah, it's pretty gay. He's trans because the hypermasculine American patriot named Jane Doe of all things is just Valve spoonfeeding transgenderism to me. I also like to entertain the idea that he's forgotten that he's trans (lead poisoning) and regularly breaks into the medbay screaming at Medic about how the communists stole his penis until Medic finally gives up and just gives him bottom surgery.
Pyro: Genderqueer butch lesbian who uses any and all pronouns.
Demoman: Pansexual, it makes no difference to him what gender his lovers are. I think he's known this for a long time too, no sexuality awakening that caused him any turmoil, just always knew that he didn't have a preference.
Heavy: Gay, and unlike Demoman, he definitely did not know until very late in his life. After joining Team Fortress, to be exact. After meeting Medic, to be exactly exact. Living in isolation for so long definitely stunted his ability to explore his sexuality. He had a 'crush' on a girl when he was about 6, but he only liked her because she had red hair that he thought was pretty. Looking back, it meant about as much as a crush when you're 6 can be expected to mean. He always assumed that the reason he didn't feel a desire to find a woman and settle down, like his mother always hoped he would, was because he hadn't met enough women to want such a thing, and if he did meet the right woman, that's when the feeling would click. Then the feeling ended up clicking instead with a maniacal doctor who liked putting black market zoo organs in him.
Engineer: Biromantic and sex neutral asexual. He always assumed he just liked women, simply because he didn't realize he could like both. After Medic told him that he liked both women and men, things started making a lot more sense. He can handle being in some specific sexual situations, but he refuses to be on the receiving end of anything, and exclusively gives.
Medic: Bisexual, reciprosexual/recipromantic. In simpler terms, Medic does not feel romantic or sexual attraction to anyone unless he knows for certain that they're attracted to him first. As a result, he has never made a first move in his life, and is also sometimes very bad at picking up on romantic advances unless they're extremely blunt.
Sniper: Gay, I don't really know what else to say he just gives me huge homo vibes. He probably got a mindblowing handjob from a bloke behind a Macca's that changed his life or something. Yes I think high-tech TF2 Australia that's basically a spoof of Wakanda still has Macca's why wouldn't they.
Spy: Bisexual, I'm going to be honest I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Spy's sex life but he definitely fucks men look at him just look at him. He's fucking men. And Scout's mother but also men.
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toriangeli · 11 hours
Text
2.04 notes
-Biggest note, finally, FINALLY we have seen the real Armand. I'm not just talking about his heartbreaking speech in the Louvre, I'm talking about his increasingly unhinged behavior and especially that flashback moment where Daniel is remembering him asking him why he's so fascinating. -Is it insane that Claudia's suffering is more upsetting to me than anyone else's? I think it hits closer to home when it's a woman. That, or maybe they're oversaucing the pudding. Like, we get it, she's Super Tragic. Can we process -Santiago sulking in his dressing room while Claudia is onstage. They should have formed an alliance from the start to get this act off the stage. -Man this episode does make me remember how insufferably snobby Louis was in the book. Thank god they've got Jacob playing him. -I adore them showing coven politics. Love love love. Could Armand have prevented it? I mean, obviously, if he could put the entire coven to sleep in an instant. But they are clearly setting up the impetus to be more complicated than many make it out to be. -Daniel says "Yah" to Louis asking if he wants to know what Dreamstat felt like. -"He's not that attractive." Bro. I'm not even a dudes kinda lady and even I know he's hot. -HE CALLED HIM A BUFFOON OMG -I think Rashid, on orders from James, mixed in those photos with Louis' to cause an argument and allow Daniel more time with the files he was sent. -I wondered if they were going to find one of Marius' paintings in the Louvre, but finding one of Armand/Amadeo is even better (because Marius is...not mediocre, but definitely not Louvre material). -"Who am I, Louis? Am I my history I have endured? Am I the job I do not want? I am not sure anymore. No one has painted me in over 400 years." Oh god for them to address Armand's identity issues this directly--he is fully aware of that emptiness and openly seeks to fill it. He's begging Louis for it. -Then to turn around and show this authoritarian side to him, FUCK YES. -Starting to venture closer to the theory that Louis has been telling the lie of him being the one who slit Lestat's throat for so long that he has come to believe it. -Jesus. I know Dreamstat isn't even real and doesn't have feelings, but I still feel for him. -This scene where Louis advises Armand. People are seeing is as being more sinister than I'm seeing it. There are definitely power plays, but nothing Armand pushes back on. I don't think he's doing this because he fancies being Lestat, though I'm as perplexed as anyone by his reaction to Armand's story. But I think here, he's giving Armand a place to vent, to be vulnerable, to safely express fear for the first time in well over a century. I do think it snowballs by the time we get to Dubai (hence Jacob talking about Louis becoming "the Lestat" in his relationship with Armand), but here, Armand seems deeply reassured. Contrast their argument in the bedroom, where Armand is immediately concerned with who to blame because he doesn't want the argument he knows is coming. That instant anticipation of the argument isn't a great sign. But the one moment in the 1940's that's a sign of how toxic it's likely to get? Louis called Armand by the name Armand said he went by as a slave, which he could not be sure was his birth name. That's taking the BDSM fantasy too far. Other than that? Every time Armand starts to spiral emotionally in the conversation, Louis redirects him, and it genuinely seems to make Armand feel better. What I don't like is that Louis has stepped back into a persona he doesn't like. At this juncture, it's more unhealthy for Louis than for Armand. Though as we see, it seems to become equally unhealthy for them both. -That being said, some people are still weirdly insistent that Armand is secretly 100% in control of everything ever, in spite of the mounting evidence that it's not the case. Just because he can put his coven to sleep for 15 seconds without breaking a sweat doesn't mean he's some kind of puppet master. There's only one of him.
Next week: finally getting truly unhinged Armand omg.
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Ok I know this fandom talks a lot about how Ponyboy is the true baby of the Curtis gang and not Johnny and I TOTALLY agree for all the great reasons I've seen listed (Johnny pushing him out of the church, Pony is an unreliable narrator who wants to seem tougher than he is, etc) but for me what makes it so absolutely clear is how...indulgent? the gang is with him. Like, Ponyboy is different from the rest of the greasers, he thinks differently and and we as the audience knows this but so does the gang. And they're more than tolerant than myself or any reader would expect to a lot of Pony's weirdness (aside from him walking alone but that's a safety concern so i get it). Like, none of them mock him for liking books or drawing. He's not teased for 'not being into girls yet'. He asks some pretty strange questions- for example, asking them all why they like fighting before the rumble, which while it makes sense to him is probably an out of the left field kind of question to them when skin fighting is a constant part of life they don't really recognize as out of place or strange- and they all answer them with decent amounts of patience. I don't know if I'm wording this as well as I'd like to but the main thing that tells me Pony is the true baby of the gang isn't how physically protective they are of him or his desperation to always be seen as older, but the gentle way his innocence is careful recognized and coddled by even the quote on quote 'meaner' members of the gang. I don't think anyone but the 'baby' of the gang could get away with being so 'weird' and not be shit on/mocked/forced to toughen up if that makes sense? but Pony is everyone's kid brother so it's a luxury he's afforded that the others aren't
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vivalas-vega · 1 day
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longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader
heyooo! new fic alert - with bradley !!! i'm not sure i even want to call this part one as it's more of an intro but here we are. super excited to finally be writing for mr. bradshaw, and even more excited to be revisiting this idea from back when this was exclusively a star wars blog and my writing was ass compared to now (professor poe dameron, anyone?) anyways, i wanted to get this out to get some feedback -- as always please please please let me know what you think !!!
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longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader (nickname dove!)
follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mention of parental death -- general warnings going forward: typical 18+ content (drinking, swearing, smut, the works), me not knowing anything about college - this is my ideal world where everything works how I want it to not how it probably is :) (prob should mention this is not an au)
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You relaxed as you stood in the aisle of the dimly-lit bookstore, taking in a deep breath of that new book smell and coffee from the in-house cafe, a smell so recognizable you almost felt the urge to cry as you reminisced. Your fingers nimbly opened a book, eyes scanning the description hidden within but you weren’t really absorbing the words so you closed it with a soft thud and slid it back onto the shelf. You continued to make your way through the store, thoughts as scattered as your approach to book shopping tonight but that was because you weren’t really shopping at all.
You weren’t even entirely sure why you’d come in, the comfort of your old college hangout called out to offer solace on your drive home and you couldn’t resist. You felt like the walls were caving in and to be standing in such a meaningful place, looking the same as it ever did, wrapped you in a sense of security. Your guard was beginning to drop for what felt like the first time in years and it was in that exact moment that you bumped into a familiar stranger, their voice raising the hairs on the back of your neck and flooding you with memories of a different time.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, let me help you…”
“Shit, my bad. Let me get that,” the handsome stranger that had just walked straight into you quickly knelt to pick up the books you’d both dropped. You felt your cheeks flush as you suddenly felt embarrassed, your wits already weren’t about you this morning and here you were colliding into the solid man currently gathering up your belongings in a perfectly fitted button up with a mustache that shouldn’t have worked and beautiful brown eyes. 
“That’s alright, everyone needs a little jolt to keep them awake in the mornings,” you replied easily. You wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t checking him out, and it only made you flush further as he handed you your things, “Professor Bradshaw?” you asked, gesturing to the ID badge pinned to his pants and he nodded. “Weird coincidence, I was actually on my way to introduce myself to you,” you said before giving him your name, trying to put your earlier thoughts out of your head as his warm hand wrapped around yours to shake.
“Ah, yes… you applied to be my teaching assistant,” he said and you nodded. 
“Figured it would be harder to tell me no if I came to pitch myself in person,” you chuckled.
“I take it you haven’t checked your email yet this morning?” he asked and you gave him a confused look. “Save the elevator pitch, I was inviting you to coffee to get to know you better and go over expectations.”
“Expectations? Does that mean I got it?” you asked, excitement palpable. “I thought you only accepted students who had taken your class before?”
“Decided to make an exception for you,” he replied with an easy smile. “Does three work for you? Here?”
You nodded, “absolutely, I’ll see you then. I promise you won’t regret this, Professor Bradshaw.”
“Please, call me Bradley.”
“Professor Bradshaw,” you said with a smirk as he looked up at you, and he quickly fumbled with the books before standing to give you a proper once over. 
“Professor,” he sighed, “you know I hate that.”
“I know,” you responded. “Nice to see that this is still your go-to spot.”
“Old habits die hard,” he chuckled, “are you back home because of your parents?” he asked and you nodded, and you didn’t miss the solemn expression that passed over his features before he quickly corrected it. “I’m so sorry, Dove.”
You smiled softly, “haven’t heard that name in a while,” you replied, dodging past his condolences entirely.
“Sometimes I forget it’s not actually your name,” he chuckled. “Half expect the banner at the bottom of the screen to say Dove and I’m always shocked when it doesn’t.”
“You’ve been watching?” you asked, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Of course I have,” he replied as if it would have been absurd for him not to. You lapsed into comfortable silence as the two of you drank each other in, noting what had changed and what had stayed the same… you had to keep from squinting at him because he looked the same as he did four years ago, maybe the lines around his eyes were a little deeper when he smiled but it was the only indication that any time had passed at all. 
You were taller, which he couldn’t reconcile until he glanced down and saw the stilettos on your feet, sharp and black and perfectly matching the black suit vest and jeans you wore. Your style was the same, classic and a little academic with an edge, only now it seemed more elevated, you seemed more elevated. 
“How long have you been in town?” he finally asked.
“Only a few days,” you answered, “feel like my head is spinning with how unchanged everything is… and this certainly isn’t helping my deja vu,” you chuckled.
“If I remember correctly this is right about the same spot you ran into me all those years ago,” he said, looking around and you gave him an incredulous look.
“Me? It was you who ran into me, just like you did a few minutes ago,” you said through a laugh and he shrugged.
“He said she said,” he replied as you shook your head. “Well, how long are you here for?”
“Indefinitely, I’m afraid,” you said and he gave you a confused look. “Dealing with typical dead parents stuff, turns out there’s a lot more to it than one would think.”
He nodded in understanding, “yeah, no one prepares you for all the paperwork.”
“That and they were too busy to keep up on the house… I always knew it needed some love but I’ve got a contractor telling me it basically needs a top to bottom renovation,” you sighed. “But hey, it’s a nice distraction from Capitol Hill.”
“You’re not rushing to get back?”
“God no, if I even go back at all,” you said with a soft laugh and now he was really surprised. “Oh,” you said, suddenly a little self conscious about how much you’d already said in this bookstore aisle, “I’m keeping you.”
He shook his head, “you’re not. It’s not everyday I run into my favorite student,” he said and you couldn’t help but flush.
“Still? Guess I set the bar too high,” you teased and he nodded.
“If only you knew,” he chuckled. “I would love to see you again though, actually catch up if you have any free time?” 
You smiled as you fished your phone out of your bag, “I would love that,” you said as you exchanged phones to input your numbers. 
“I’ll text you,” he said and you were about to part ways but you were unsure of how to do so… you didn’t want to simply walk away, but you didn’t know if a handshake were too formal or a hug too personal, but he made the decision for you, already seeing the gears turning in your head as he opened his arms subtly and you softly laughed as you stepped in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It really is good to see you, Dove.”
“You too, Rooster,” you replied and he gave you a squeeze before letting you go as he laughed.
“Still regret telling you that.”
“What? You can use my callsign but I can’t use yours?” you asked with a smirk as you started walking backwards away from him. 
“You don’t have a callsign!”
“Then what’s Dove?” you retorted and he didn’t have an answer, and so you gave him a soft nod as you turned for the register, and as you checked out you were unable to keep the smile off your face. Everything about returning home had been jarring, but not this… not him. Your favorite professor, your mentor, maybe even your friend towards the end of your working relationship. Your mind had been reeling as you tried to piece together what life would be like now with your career up in the air and your parents gone, and for the first time in weeks you felt like maybe this trip home wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
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all-wrung-out · 3 days
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Whumpblr Intro
Hey! I've gone far too long without actually making an intro, despite having this side blog up for a bit. So here we go!
I go by Tac when I'm interacting online (my main blog is calligraphic-tac, and that's my chaos-corner where I try to post things I like, things that inspire me, and my more general writing, when I can actually get words out). Pronouns are she/her, although they/them are good backups.
I've been into whump for as long as I can remember, but in my 33 years on the planet, I only learned last year that there's a whole community for it. I'd heard the term "whump" before, and kind of knew what it was, but never made the connection to the type of media I like.
There are some whump tropes that I'll always enjoy, but the favorite flavor of the week is usually on rotation from the following list:
Superhero whump
Kidnapping
Defiant/Stoic/Strong/Snarky Whumpees
Self-sacrificial Whumpee
Whumpers who feign rage, but are actually very calculated and careful in their treatment of Whumpee
Whumpers who actually lose their temper, especially when triggered by a defiant whumpee
Team whump
Non-human Whumpee (especially when it pertains to the good, old-fashioned "what makes us human" trope)
Drug/poison whump (Fucked up balance and altered perception, anyone?)
Medical whump (specifically, medical treatment, but "This is gonna hurt.")
The good, old-fashioned Beating trope
Pinned/Trapped
Drowning/asphyxiation
Environmental/Wilderness whump (extreme temperatures and survival)
Animal attacks
Used as bait
Infected wounds (especially when it comes to treatment of said wounds)
Self-surgery or self-care
Mind control (Specifically, conflict between Whumper/Whumpee within Whumpee's mind while Whumper tries to take control. OH! And Whumper causing Whumpee to experience things that didn't happen; I have a really neat story idea for this one!)
I'm sure I'm missing some, but I suppose I can amend this post when I remember some more. Some of my whump tastes are also kind of specific, so listing them concisely can be a challenge.
Not going to list my squicks here. (As the saying goes: "If you don't want someone to get your goat, don't let them know where it's tied.") However, if you're looking for NSFW-type whump, I don't typically write that. (Not for other folks, anyway; I'm rather terrible at it.)
I used to write a lot as a kid, but was often ashamed of my affinity for whump, so any time I tried to write it, I chickened out and wrote something else. I still wrote plenty of action and peril, but the whump was usually not as heavy as I initially imagined.
I've also been in a bit of a writing slump for... oh, goodness... It's going on 14 years now. I really want to get out of it, so I'm hoping whump writing will help.
Fun fact about me: A lot of my stories are grown from a kernel of whump. I think of a specific scenario I want to put an OC through, and then a whole story grows out of it.
Some of my favorite whump blogs include: @whump-me @whumperofworlds @allthewhumpygoodness @emmithar-blog @soheavyaburden @whumperfultime @roblingoblin285 @blackrosesandwhump @evilwriter-originals I'm still collecting whump blogs to follow, so feel free to interact if you're one such blog!
Also, I'm going to be rusty as hell, so please bear with me while I get my writing brain reinstalled in the ol' skull-housing.
Last thing (I know this post is long already): I've seen the way the whump community interacts and I'm happy to be a part of it. I'm not especially social myself, but I'm nonetheless proud to be part of such an amazing group of folks. Keep rockin', y'all!
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