#and yes granted he did just come from outside. but it's the fact that he felt like he had to wear the toupee outside in the first place oka

[gossippool]

speaking of costume/makeup design i love that we go from wade wearing a toupee (at his own birthday party no less) as his way of trying to fit in in any way he can still control, to just him as himself!! which mirrors his character arc from needing to feel accepted or like he matters to other people to having self-acceptance and assurance in his own intrinsic worth <3

also *eye twitch* the white shirt representing rebirth and renewal. the cardigan representing comfort and homeliness as compared to a windbreaker reminiscent of a shield to block out the elements. both worn to keep warm but in different ways

[cosmicpearlz]

seeing green

summary: realistically, you have no right being jealous but you couldn't help it. he is yours whether anyone knew it or not.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

situationships were funny when it came down to being possessive over someone whose not yours officially. you and jude had been secretly seeing each other. calling each other at different times to meet each other's needs. it all started from a drunken kiss.

-the kiss-

"stop looking at me like that bellingham," you said, while slightly smirking at the boy sitting right next to you. you came over to jude's house because it was a stressful day. he suggested a couple drinks to unwind the day. leading you guys here.

"like what?"

"you know what I'm talking about," as you replied, jude slowly grew a grin on his face. he watched you with hooded eyes and licked his lips, taking in the sight of you.

"it's not my fault you're sitting here looking so fucking pretty."

"stop that."

"no. i'm really enjoying my view."

neither one of you realized how you guys shifted closer to each other on the couch. the soft sounds of the tv becoming background noise as you guys stared in each other's eyes.

"can i kiss you?"

"are you drunk?"

"nah, just tipsy. are you drunk love?"

"no sir, i'd say i'm just tipsy too."

"won't that ruin our friendship jude?" his hand inched up your thigh, caressing it. you looked down at his hand connected to your thigh and slightly smiled.

"just one kiss. then we'll be right back to the same y/n and jude that we've always been."

"just one kiss, right? it won't hurt us."

"it won't hurt us," jude echoed you. nose to nose now, jude seals the deal by kissing you.

the kiss starting off slow. his gentle touch paired with his soft lips, sent butterflies through your stomach. jude wraps his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap. once you settled in his lap, his fingers move under your shirt. brushing over the bare skin. you continued to explore each other as the kiss began to heat up. becoming more messy and eager. he licks your bottom lip and you were quick to grant him access. tongues fighting for dominance, causing you to grin into the kiss.

the kiss coming to end, jude lays a couple of pecks to your lips before you both pulled away. you shook your head with a smile and turned away from his gaze.

"that is the first and last time we kiss mr. bellingham," you hold up your pinky, to make a weak pinky promise.

"first and last time. scouts honor," he locks his pinky with yours and matches the grin you have. you giggled, making jude join into the laugher.

-

it wasn't the last time. in fact, you guys had share multiple kisses even without having drinks. which is why you held your drink tightly in your hand, as you watched him talk to another girl. seeing Jude smile and laugh with her, made your chest burn with jealousy.

"you alright mate?" you turn your head to find jobe standing next to you.

"of course, why wouldn't i be?"

"maybe because jude is standing there talking to another girl."

"we're best friends. definitely not together, so he can talk to who he wants."

"y'know i thought green would be your color. just maybe not this shade of green," you gasp and playfully slap the younger boy's shoulder. jobe chuckles and moves back, in hopes of not getting hit again.

"this is why jude's the better bellingham," you stick your tongue out and walk away from jobe with a small smile. jude takes this as a sign to excuse himself and follow you.

"fancy seeing you here."

"did you really follow me all the way outside?"

"well yes. did you really leave because you saw me with another girl?"

"maybe," you sip on your drink and turn your head away from him. jude moves closer to you and wraps his arm around your waist. bringing a hand to your chin, he turns your head to face him again.

"were you really jealous?"

"so what if I am?"

"ooo you wanna kiss me so bad, dontcha?" you laughed, pushing him away.

"shut up."

"c'mere, we're not done," he pulls you into him by your arm. you guys were chest to chest, as you looked up at him. brown eyes staring right back at you.

"i fear i ruined our friendship," you whispered to him, holding the intense eye contact.

"me too."

"what does this mean?"

"that i've been yours since we started hooking up."

"really?"

"yes darling. you literally have nothing to worry about."

"good, because i don't like to share."

"that's really funny because i don't either," jude pulls you into kiss. silently confirming that you guys are taking the steps to be exclusive. he was yours and you were his. although, he's really always been yours.

[elizakai]

I like thinking about their more canon adjacent dynamic (character wise)

MINI ANALYSIS TIME

Because while I love the soft interpretations, even WITH those let’s be real; that’s not how they’d act off the bat

Horror would be extremely judgmental (fair) and hate Dust for what he did. He’d despise him and probably be very passive aggressive. Making jabs and making his disdain apparent when they have to interact. I think getting a read on Dust is also difficult and would piss Horror off. Horror is unpredictable and has a sadistic streak, if he was mad or manic and had Dust in a corner he’d have no qualms about manhandling the guy. (And Dust probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.)

Meanwhile, Dusttale’s creator was asked once how Dust may feel if he met Horror, to which they said he feels bad for Horror. He likes him, sees him as someone who went through something horribly undeserved. In my mind Dust is somewhat protective of Horror.

I interpret these clashing of dynamics as Horror’s just utter disdain for this guy, and Dust’s resigned acceptance of Horror’s judgment. He’d agree with him if he were to judge himself, but I think a part of him wants Horror’s approval. He doesn’t EVER expect to get it, but Horror is….

While he’s seen hell, he’s almost a less tormented version of Dust himself. Deep down they are the same. Horror has suffered greatly, but even still hasn’t hit the deep end dust has, and I think he’d want to protect that sort of innocence he’s granted. One could think of it as him protecting a piece of himself he himself has already sacrificed. And wanting APPROVAL from him, wishing to be forgiven, craving that small piece of validation or understanding as he tries to reconcile with himself.

Horror’s formed opinion makes sense, he agrees with it, and simply wishes he disagreed, that he could have proof of himself being a FRACTION worthy of forgiveness or understanding.

The judge in both of them has both formed an opinion of the other, and they happen to differ greatly. Horror sees Dust as an abuser and Dust sees Horror as a victim.

I like to imagine that, while reluctantly thrown into the same general vicinity, Horror would grow to be more understanding (again if we are going with a PROGRESSIVE plot line) and come to understand that, yes, he wasn’t WRONG, but there is nuance to the situation. They both have a very grim understanding of what it’s like to be trapped. I think he has the capacity to understand Dust better if he was given time. His hands aren’t clean after all, and he knows what it’s like to be forced into a situation and to feel backed into a drastic decision. He knows what it’s like to lose your autonomy and to feel your mind break itself under pressure.

I think the simple fact that Dust wouldn’t TRY to change his mind or justify himself would be part of why Horror could come to understand him. He’s devestated by his actions, he is by no means a sadist.

Horror coming to understand Dust and sort of reconcile/forgive him I think would be rather BIG for Horror, especially if you factor in other situations he now has to consider. (For example, his Undyne and her drastic attempt at freeing the undergroud…) reconciling his OWN arguably cruel decisions he has made with pure intentions, when he feels there’s no other choice (like his Papyrus and tricking him into doing something so outside of his beliefs, to protect him)

It would also be healing for Dust to get that reconciliation with Horror because again…Horror’s opinion actually may MATTER.

And in the same way that Dust may see Horror as a sort of person to be protected from further harm, Horror would probably pick up on all of the VERY bad habits Dust has that (in my observation at least) are EXTREMELY similar to his own habits/past habits (isolation, obsession, deprivation, paranoia, bringing harm to self etc) and I could see him being sensitive towards those and trying to prevent it worsening (it’s a sore subject💔) Horror is shown to prioritize taking care of those he cares about, even when he’s a bit mad, and he has the capacity to grow an understanding for someone he doesn’t like initially :))

I think they have potential to be VERY good for one another, Horror (while being fucked up) encourages (and maybe forces) better habits and actually has an opinion that matters to Dust, and Dust is inclined to be VERY loyal (Horror needs someone to show him loyalty.) to anyone who cares to give him the time of day, as it’s far beyond what he’d expect, and he’s got the sympathy/protective streak towards Horror as an actual in character detail.

And from there it would be wonderful to explore their dynamic in whatever way you like to interpret it🤫💥

I could go on but I’ll stop here, if you read this all CONGRATS!!!

Share your thoughts I love it

[deathbxnny]

So, this is another addition to our Arlecchino x Wife!Fem!Reader series, and I had to make a separate post from the ask due to formatting issues. You can see the inspo of said post HERE, tho!

Thank you otherwise to our dear X Anon for another great request, and I hope this is to your liking!!<33

(Also, sorry this took 5 years to make X Anon... life hates me-)

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part five)

Content: Female reader, fluff, slight angst, established relationship, actually wholesome for once!

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

((Not proofread))

Sweet strawberry cakes and stitched together teddy bears. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)

You only vividly remember the last time you celebrated your birthday. You had just turned sixteen, and whilst no one usually ever put much importance on this day for you, Peruere and Clervie always did. You recall the pink haired girl approaching you in the darkness of your room as she crawled into bed with you carefully. Peruere stood at the door, unmoving and still, but she was there. Just for you.

Placing a clumsily made cake onto your lap, Clervie leaned her head against yours, her voice quiet and hushed in fear of being heard. "Happy birthday." She whispered into your ear, and it meant the world to you. Peruere delicately held a small gift in her clawed hands, her emotionless face partially illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window. It was a teddy bear they had made themselves, or maybe Clervie stitched it together whilst your wife found it's pieces. Either way, it was lost to time eventually, just like your dearest friend was.

Now, many years later and far away from the past that still haunts you, you forbade Arlecchino to ever mention that day again. Or, well, you never had to say anything. Both of your birthdays meant nothing to you after your previous "mother's" fall and so, you took your rebirths into your own hands.

Your past life wasn't a part of you here.

But on this day, in which you are forever reminded of your mere mortality and the fact that many of your companions never got older than the last birthday you remembered, you find yourself rather somber, even more than usual at that. And despite your wish to forget about it, your wife still acknowledged it with a kiss on your wrist in the morning. You felt bitter every time she did so, even of you knew she meant well.

Thankfully, however, this day would usually pass every year without anyone even thinking about it being your birthday. You often forget it yourself, too, anyway.

But today felt... different.

Perhaps it was the way Arlecchino's gaze seemed sharper and more focused even in the home, or the way Freminet was practically sweating buckets as he asked you to come along with him and his other two siblings for a "short" outing. But you could tell something was off.

"... You want to go run errands with me?" The question was asked carefully, yet the three siblings could immideatly tell that you were suspicious. It wasn't often that you left the home and everyone knew that you would rather not if you could help it. You were always worried about everyone's well-being, considering your past and its hardships. So your son's request was definitely quite odd. They usually never bothered to ask unless the errand runs were absolutely necessary. And you couldn't necessarily remember anything out of the ordinary happening this week either.

Lyney gave you a sly smile as he pressed a hand against your back and practically pushed you towards the front door with a tip of his hat. "Yes indeed, mother! Now let's get going before the bread at the baker sells out for the day!" He chimed as happily as always, yet that just earned him a raise of a brow from both you and Lynette for similar reasons. It was 12 pm... the bread had most definitely run out by now.

Deciding not to question it, you concluded that they may have just wanted to spend time with you outside. Fair enough, you supposed that you could grant them a small outing. Surely everyone will be fine for an hour or two. Arlecchino just gave you and the three siblings a silent nod in approval from her seat in the kitchen as she flipped through her paperwork with mild interest. The Father of the Hearth house being home certainly quelled your worries as you finally allowed Lyney to drag you out with no further complaints.

--

The streets were rather busy at this time of the day. You usually stayed clear around these hours and preferred to go out at night if there was ever the need for it. But Lyney was ever so determined to complete this errand run and if it was the last thing he did. Lynette had yet to say a word about it, whilst Freminet clinged to your side, often glancing at his pocket watch in near worry for a reason you couldn't figure out.

"Lyney, child... are you sure this is absolutely necessary?" You asked just as you were about to reach the bakery. "Ofcourse! We just ran out of bread after all... and you know how the younger kids get about that, mother." That was a flat-out lie, you noted swiftly. You were pretty sure that you had more than enough at home. But once again, you didn't say anything more. Perhaps they really did want to just spend time with you... but why couldn't they just say that outright?

As expected, however, the baker not only had no bread left but had closed shop early too. Lynette gave her sweating brother a deadpan, as he clearly was trying to come up with an excuse. One glance at Freminet, who was quickly shaking his head behind you whilst holding up his watch, made it clear that they couldn't turn around yet. They doubted that everyone was done setting everything up and needed to buy time. But you were always so hard-headed when it came to spending too much time away from the house. So what should they do now?

Clearing his throat, Lyney turned to you with a strained smile. "Ah! My, my... quite the bad luck, right? No matter, we still have other things on the list we can get for todays dinner!" Your brows furrowed at that. You don't recall even mentioning what you'd make today to anyone yet. Lynette swiftly elbowed her brother in the ribs knowingly whilst you were deep in thought, which made the man quickly straighten up and take off his hat. "Oh ah! Because we wanted to cook today! Together!" "... You've never done that before." "Ahahaha... you're so funny, mother! Now let's get going before the other shops close too!" He quickly grabbed onto your arm and pulled you along, his head turning to give his other two siblings a silent nod to proceed with their plans.

Since the two were trailing after the both of you, they were quick to pick up any small gifts when you weren't looking. They already had plenty for you at home, but with you watching everyone intensely every day, hiding anything from you was near impossible. It was a blessing and curse alike, yet you taught them well as they began practically hoarding anything they found under their clothes or making them disappear through some little magic tricks. Freminet was shaking like a leaf throughout all of this, yet hoped you didn't notice it too much.

Thankfully, you were more preoccupied with your oldest son dragging you around for his imaginary ingredient list that you were by now convinced didn't even exist. The more time went by, the more anxious and irritated you became. Sure, you appreciated that they wanted to go out with you, but unfortunately, your excellent perception was beginning to make you restless. You just wanted to get home already and resume your schedule with the other children.

"Okay, next up is-" "-Lyney, enough of this boy. Let's head home." You said as the setting sun bathed the world around you in its last sun rays. Freminet hid behind Lynette at the finality in your voice, which made it clear that you were very much done with their games. They knew that you were catching on and that hiding everything from you was impossible. It was truly impressive yet expected from the Mother of the House of Hearth.

Said young man gave you his usual smile, yet you could tell how nervous he was. "But Mother-" "-I'm unsure of what you're doing, all three of you." You began as you crossed your arms with a frown. "And I appreciate it if all you want is to just spend time with me. I really do. But you can also just say that, children. I know how busy your father and I can get, so I can understand... but you also have to also understand, that I have alot to do at home and can't stay out for long." You gently scolded the three, who just glanced at eachother in response. Well, this was not necessarily their goal... but it did hold you up for longer anyway!

After your lecture, you dragged the three back home. You were very tired from the outing, and whilst you found it nice to leave the house for a bit, today just felt so awfully wrong for you. Stepping into the dark and silent house, however, you couldn't help but freeze. The house of Hearth was never silent. It was always moving one way or another, even into the late hours of the night. It never laid still, never truly slept. Your anxiety shot through the roof, as many possibilities ran through your mind at once. Years and years of loss, torture, and pain always made you fear for the worst in moments like these.

Yet when you quickly rounded the corner to the grand living room in absolute terror and worry, the lights suddenly came on and a deafening yell of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOTHER!" rang through the vast house. Confetti flew into the air, and you blinked in surprise, as the three siblings, including the rest of the children and even your wife, stood in front of you around a large table filled with a beautiful cake and plenty of endless gifts. You opened your mouth in surprise, yet were left speechless in shock, as the fear melted away in relief.

Suddenly, everything made sense, and you nearly felt proud that your children were able to sneak past you and organize such a grand party... but only nearly. A sob suddenly shook your body as you pressed a hand against your mouth. That was definitely too much for your heart to handle. Everyone stopped for a moment, realising that they maybe had gone too far, yet Arlecchino approaching you made them all relax again.

She took hold of your hands and wiped away your tears with her claws so delicately. "My apologies. We may have gone overboard." The party wasn't necessarily her idea, nor did she truly understand its purpose, but she had hoped that it would bring you some joy on a day that had been soured forever. And thankfully, when you gave her a weak smile, she was glad to learn that it indeed had done exactly that. "No, I... am just very happy. That's all." It was a partial lie. But it melted into the truth when you looked at all of your happy children in your home. You had made it so far in life. Who would've ever thought that you would ever find yourself happy on this accursed day? "However, give me another heart attack like this one, and I am kicking you all out for a day." You huffed, making everyone giggle before dragging you over to the table to celebrate.

Arlecchino calmly watched you from afar, her gaze calm and gentle. Especially when you opened your wife's gift to find a certain teddy bear in it that instantly moved you to tears once more. You met her eye, an expression on your face she understood well.

You both hoped Clervie was celebrating with you from above, just like she always would.

[hana-no-seiiki]

REPLACED.

YANDERE! ROCKSTAR (FEROZE KHAN) x GN! MANAGER / PA ! READER x YANDERE! POP IDOL (JISOO HAN [EVE] )

FEROZE BELONGS TO MANAGER READER AND @moyazaika !! Just wanted to make a lil gift for my lovely moot 💋

[ Part 2 : REHEARSAL ]

You were absolutely terrified.

Lord knows how you were able to get the Feroze Khan to agree with collaborating, with a “goody two shoes” pop idol who flirted to hell and back with you, no less. But you just knew someone was going to get hurt by the end of this.

Eve used to be your client before you were dumped into the depths of hell. Aside from the flirtations and clinginess, he was a dream to work with as a manager. He never got into scandals, and he worked day and night to be the best in his craft. You never had to worry when it came to his career. You however, took that for granted and left him the moment you got a better deal. Getting to work with a junior idol vs a seasoned rockstar, the choice was obvious was it not?

Nope.

Eve making tons of songs about heartbreak only poured salt into the wound. You saw him as your little brother almost, it was hard seeing him grieve for your presence. You felt heartless. Guilt ate you up from the inside out. You were lucky he didn’t try contacting you after it all.

Until now.

heeeyyy there! beena while. you workin with Feroze at the moment right???

You squinted at the DM you received. As a manager you were used to dealing with all sorts of texts. Thirsty ones, death threats, collaboration requests. But none of them made your heart beat this quickly. Was it out of excitement, nervousness, or terror? You didn’t know.

I am.

short and straight to the point as always!! i’ve always loved that about you

∧,,,∧

(  ̳• · • ̳)

/    づ♡

take my love, wontchu?

You covered your mouth and squealed.

“The fuck?” Feroze looked up from his guitar at the noise you made. He had to admit it was cute but it did ruin a recording of his.

“Sorry, I’ll go outside.”

“No, stay. I need you here.”

You simply nodded, already used to his obsession with you at this point.

annyyyywaysss i just wanted to ask if you could secure a collab with me n mr. khan?

been tryin to get ahold of him but all i got back was radio silence 🥶

but i know if it’s you, the bestest manager ever, i’ll be able to collab with the bestest rockstar in the world!!

i’ll be a good boy i promise!! pretty please with a cherry and me on top?

Somehow you doubted that. But as your own self appointed protocol states, you must report the matter to your client.

“Feroze, you’ve got another collab request.”

“Was it the person that got you squealing?”

Oh no, you did not like his tone. Jealous Feroze was a monster to deal with. “. . . Yes ? “

“Go for it.”

“What? D-don’t you want to hear about their music style and what not before you—“

“I just have one condition. They have to come to me.”

And, you were doomed.

“Right. I’ll schedule a meeting.”

You stand corrected. They got along well. A bit too well for your liking. You didn’t have to stand awkwardly there while Feroze glared (as he usually does) at his collaborator. In fact they were even conversating! And it wasn’t small talk…

“Mr. Khan! You’re even dreamier up close.”

Your employer even seemed to be amused by Eve’s personality. “I could say the same for you, Eve right? Like the biblical Eve? And please, call me Feroze.”

“Yeah! They thought it’d be a nice call back to my more . . . type of music.“

“Type of music you say. . .”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Oh, you bet I am.”

Why do you have a feeling you were being replaced?

YOU RECEIVED A SPECIAL POSTER!

Check it out?

[ ✅ YES ]

[ PART 2: REHEARSAL ]

tempted to make a bl/mlm spin off of these two fr fr

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | moyazaika | 2023

[rallamajoop]

More random details from the depths of RE8

With the excuse of trying some shiny new mods, I've been replaying RE8 lately for the umpteenth time. Given the number of hours I've already poured into this game, you'd really think there'd be nothing left to find by this stage ‒ yet here I am, finding still more details I'd somehow missed the first half-dozen times through.

For one, there's the fact you can actually find Eva's grave in the graveyard outside the church. As the only photo we ever see of her shows her as a baby, I'd assumed she was still a baby when she died, but turns out, she was ten years old.

"Eva, June 1909 ‒ August 1919

May you slumber for only a short while"

As expected, her death of the Spanish flu took place in 1919. There's some semi-legible text on the stone, but it doesn't match the caption ‒ it's just the same generic filler text you'll find on half the gravestone assets in this game.

For another, there's Rose's baby monitor. I'd noticed Ethan turning the thing on when he puts her to bed, and even found the assets for its screen ‒ but since I'd never found the monitor itself, I assumed they must be unused.

Until this playthrough, when suddenly I'm just like, oh, there it is, sitting right on the table. You can even interact with it!

How did I miss this so many times? It is pretty easy to overlook, given you'll trigger the cutscene with Mia if you go much closer to the kitchen, but I'm still surprised I never spotted it before. (And you do have to wonder if there was ever any plan for it to show a glimpse of something more sinister than just a still-image of Rose sleeping.)

In other minor details, there's the bit where Ethan arrives on the outskirts of the village at 8AM. You can hear a clock striking 8 times as you get your first view of area.

Granted, this is not going to excite anyone who hasn't spent as long as I have putting together an hour-by-hour timeline of everything that happens in this game, but I still do love that they give you enough detail that that's even possible ‒ and this new timestamp fits right into that timeline. (And why yes I have just gone back and updated that post, what do you take me for?)

Speaking of assets I thought were unused, you know that hidden room under the castle you can't get into until later, where you have to solve a puzzle that involves setting a moroaica on fire? Have you ever looked closely at the tapestries decorating this place? Because I found them in the game files ages ago, and have been trying to figure out if they're actually in the game ever since.

Because seriously, look at these things!

Yes, that is a indeed a man with a sword and spear, wearing a hoplite helmet and sandals and nothing else. And the women seeing him from the front seem to be having a whole range of reactions to all that, er, weaponry being brandished their way. Isn't fine art wonderful?

Another asset I'd innocently assumed was unused is this wonderful bit of bullshit which was labeled simply 'antibow'. It wasn't until I took a long look at it that I realised what they meant was more like 'anti-B.O.W.', as in Bio-Organic-Weapon.

Yes, that is indeed a knife taped to some kind of grenade. Sure is one high-tech outfit we're working with here!

Only now do I spot that this is actually the bomb Chris chucks at the Megamycete in the cavern. It doesn't even come with the knife already attached, he just kind of sticks the knife onto the bomb and presumably straps some tape around them while the camera cuts away.

I still have so much more to share from my ongoing free-camera adventures, but I think we'll leave this one there for today.

[kaithonks]

So I’ve had some Thoughts about From the DC Vault: Death in the Family: Robin Lives!

Warning: Spoilers 

My mistake with From the DC Vault: Death in the Family: Robin Lives! was thinking that the story would actually be about Robin. That was on me. I should have known better, but I let my excitement of finally getting more Jason Todd, Robin content get away from me. I set up poor expectations, and it’s not the comic’s fault for not meeting those expectations. 

Everything else is, though. 

I know I’m biased, and I am probably writing this too soon after having finished Robin Lives to really give myself time to think critically about the story. But, I also feel rather offended by the end and feel the need to strike while the iron is hot. Recently, I talked about fans and writers needing to have respect for each other, as they can’t exist without each other. I also mentioned having a respect for the history of the comic. On that, I don’t get the feeling that J. M. DeMatteis has much respect for the history that was Jason’s Robin run. Granted, this isn’t mainline canon. It is more of a ‘What if?’ So DeMatteis wasn’t “entrusted” the same way but, there was still a line of basic respect that feels very lacking. Now, DeMatteis has been writing since the 80s and has written a lot for both DC and Marvel so he is a part of comic history, but this doesn’t really translate into respect for characters. Or for fans.

Both Jason and Dick’s character have a rough time in this 4 issue series. While the series called “Robin Lives” mostly focuses on Bruce and his regret, by doing that it makes Jason and Dick more like props for Bruce’s guilt than actually characters with their own agency. Bruce outright denies Dick’s choice in becoming a Robin and even later Nightwing. In this guilt, Bruce totally takes away the fact that even as a child, Dick did choose this, and he chose it again when he became Nightwing. So Bruce’s guilt serves no one here. And this problem gets worst with the Robin Lives ending. Dick becoming Batman, is an incredibly weak ending to start. Because most of Dick’s history is him growing out of Robin and then trying to break out of Bruce’s shadow. Yes, Battle for the Cowl happens, but it’s more complex than Dick just becoming Batman. And it’s easy to see how pointless all of Bruce’s guilt was when he decided to leave his role as Batman, only for Dick to take it up again. It really feels like Dick is only a prop for Bruce’s journey. Dick is here for Bruce to feel guilty about, but then to also relieve him of the duty that also makes him feel guilty. 

And it is so much worse with Jason. This does sort of come back to me setting up poor expectations and the fact I thought this would be about Jason’s recover, but it was glossed over. We simply jump to Jason now being okay, which is a choice, if on the unbelievable side. What is worse, though, is how Bruce and the comic, makes Jason’s trauma about Bruce. Because yes, to an extent Bruce holds fault for the events leading up to Death in the Family. But he mainly holds fault in the form of negligence. He didn’t properly check out Sheila Haywood's background before for deciding she was a safe person to leave his son with. I am boiling down the issue of character interaction between Bruce and Jason (and outside influence that puts Jason’s last issues into context), but my point still stands that Bruce and Jason still made choices. For Jason’s part, he chose to trust Shelia to try, and save her. And in reality, Joker and Shelia hold the blame for Jason’s trauma. The fact Shelia was only briefly seen in a hallucination and “saving” Jason, again feels like DeMatteis has a lacking appreciation for the history of Jason’s Robin, and it’s context. Yes, Shelia saving Jason would be something Jason would want, but the event after this takes away everything that would make Jason still want Shelia’s affection in some way. With the ending and Jason becoming the Joker to Dick’s Batman, shows this. It ultimately feels like both Dick and Jason were used as stage props to re-establish some kind of status quo for a series that was only planned for only four issue. The run very well could have ended with the Joker’s death and everyone going to live happy lives but for some reason no. 

Now, one could see that as DeMatteis having a respect for Batman’s history as a whole and a path for a continuation. I would argue, though, that it shouldn’t come at the cost of other character’s agency. The leap in Jason’s “madness” is awkward, and when I say leap I mean a massive leap. This goes back to my problem with the story not focusing on Jason. We spend so much time in Bruce’s grief that when it is about Jason, everything goes sideways and ends up with being a “What the hell did that happen?” Especially since in the context of the story, Jason should have gotten a lot more support from Bruce, now retired, from Dick, now living back in Gotham, and from Dr. Sarawarti Dev, a psychologist. Having Jason still become the Joker after all this, not only feels like all of those people continued to fail him (especially as Bruce and Dr. Sara get married, which was a strange addition), but that he never really had any choice.  The story didn’t take the time to show us this, to show us how or where Jason became the Joker. He even denied becoming like the Joke in early issue 4. A point might be made that killing the Joker made Jason the new Joker, but a counterpoint Why? Jason already had the choice and decided? Why did he go back on that? Jason was Robin, Robin has the role of bringing hope, and being more compassionate, countering the fear Batman brings. We see Jason’s compassion before he died (or was injured in this case), when he still tried to save Shelia after she betrayed him. We see it in this comic with him still wanting her affection in his hallucination. So where did that compassion and care go?  

The answer? It didn’t go anywhere.  It was forgotten for the sake of a convoluted twist to make a reader gasp. Robin Lives spends its whole four issue run taking away the choice and agency of Robin. Robin does not live here. He becomes a puppet of the plot not to move outside of its designated story, he only can become Batman or the Joker. But never his own being. For anyone who’s ever enjoyed Robin, be it Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne or any other Robin, past or future, Robin Lives is an insult.

[owl-with-a-pen]

Outside of superhero emergencies, Kara didn’t tend to lean into her super hearing where she could avoid it. Girl’s night at her apartment, for example, definitely shouldn’t have called for it. Then again, she wasn’t usually the subject of discussion in just about every apartment block on her street.

So, maybe that wasn’t completely true. She’d certainly heard her name mentioned a lot more since the whole secret identity reveal thing; it was just, nowadays, instead of hearing Supergirl, it was usually Kara Zor-El.

She was used to it. She’d been used to it for years; her name was normally a hot topic days, if not weeks after a major save was broadcast. The only difference now was… not all of those voices were as positive as she’d come to expect.

Like right now, for instance. No matter how hard she tried to shut it out, she couldn’t help but listen for that same voice echoing from hundreds of homes across the city, streaming from earbuds, speakers and laptops alike. His voice was charismatic and quick, like a less polished Maxwell Lord, and while he may have been a nobody just a few weeks ago, he’d certainly gained enough traction now to give Kara one hell of a headache.

Unfortunately for her, she’d inadvertently tuned herself in at just the right time for her downstairs neighbour to hit play:

“Alright folks, if you missed our last episode I’ll catch you up to speed. Last week, we rounded off at the crux of the Supergirl Problem; that she hasn’t just been living in our midst this whole time, but that she’s been actively working as a journalist for CatCo Worldwide Media. And, just a few weeks ago, she was publicly put in charge of the editorial process for that same media outlet minutes after she came clean about her alter-ego to the world. And, as I doubt Supergirl will want to speak for herself on the matter, we have one of her self-proclaimed super-fans in the house today to speak on her behalf. Say it with me at home folks, debate me, Supergirl!”

The aforementioned ‘super-fan’ let out a surprised scoff at her introduction. She didn’t waste a minute of her airtime, jumping immediately into the conversation: “Well, for starters, I think you’re taking this whole thing out of context. Supergirl didn’t just become a journalist for CatCo overnight. If you knew anything about Kara’s story, you’d know that she worked her way up the food chain for years! I mean, how empowering is that? She started as a PA!”

“Yeah, a PA with superspeed, how difficult. No wonder she ended up in Cat Grant’s palm! And yes, I do know her origin story, thank you very much.” The host’s voice crackled as Kara imagined him relaxing into his microphone. “Let the audience not forget that she was a PA for Cat Grant before she became a journalist. Are we really going to pretend that wasn’t her foot in the door?”

“Cat Grant wasn’t even her boss when she got into journalism,” argued the young woman. “And by the time Kara made a name for herself, Cat wasn’t even leading the company anymore! She got to where she is now on her own merit, no one elses!”

The host spoke over her: “It begs the question, did Cat Grant know this whole time? She takes a sabbatical only to re-emerge just in time to offer Supergirl a promotion. On top of that, she’s been promoting Supergirl for years! She created her – her words, on record. And now she’s put her in charge of media distribution. Get this: Supergirl is now in charge of the media we consume. Isn’t that a little self-indulgent?”

The young woman didn’t back down. “Kara Danvers was a Pultizer winning journalist long before we found out who she really was,” she argued. “She’s been standing for truth and justice just as much as Supergirl has. In fact, she’s just as much a hero as—”

“But what’s the agenda here?” the host continued with a conspiratorial air. “How can we even believe the news now it’s being headed by a liar? And she did, didn’t she? She lied to us all! She had a secret identity this whole time, and what? We’re just supposed to accept that? What’s the bet that this story will make a headline at CatCo magazine tomorrow morning, with my comments made out as Supergirl’s latest villain story? Or, better yet, will I be Kara Danver’s first official nemesis?” He barked out a laugh into his microphone. “There’s no freedom of the press anymore, folks, not when CatCo is bias towards the very hero that made it so popular in the first place!”

Before she could hear any more, Kara was thrown from her super-eavesdropping rather unceremoniously when a hand shot out in front of her face, waving impatiently.  

“Earth to Kara,” Alex said, snapping her fingers in front of her sister’s nose. “Hey, anyone home?”

“Huh?” Kara said before screwing her eyes shut, swatting away Alex’s offending hand. “Hey, hey, stop that!”

It was only then that she realised that it wasn’t just Alex who had been trying to get her attention. Lena and Kelly were staring at her from the opposite sofa. Nia sat cross legged on the footstool by the coffee table, nursing her drink with an expectant expression.

Kara glanced lamely at the TV. It didn’t look like anyone had been paying attention to the movie for quite some time.

Just how long had she been…?

Kara tried not to cringe.

Kelly cleared her throat, smoothing her hands over her lap. “From your expression, I’m guessing you were listening in on something pretty important.” She hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

Kara’s eyes widened. “What? Oh, oh no, it’s not a superhero emergency, I swear. Girl’s night continues uninterrupted, I promise!”

“Okay,” Nia said with a slow smile. “Then what was with the—” She mimicked Kara’s spaced-out expression a little too well, earning a few grins at her expense.

Kara pursed her lips. “Uh—I mean. It was nothing. Just…” She sagged in on herself awkwardly. “Okay, so I may have been listening to this podcast…”

“Oof.” Alex winced. “You don’t wanna do that.”

Kara groaned, falling back against the sofa. “I’ve been trying not to, but it’s kinda hard when half of my building’s listening to it.” She rubbed aggressively at her ears. “Super hearing can really suck, you guys.”

“Wait,” Nia said, perking up. “Are you talking about the Debate Me, Supergirl podcast?” When everyone turned to stare at her, she shrugged. “What? Brainy’s been keeping tabs on all social channels for this stuff ever since your interview first went public, y’know, calculating the odds on them picking up any real traction. In case things go… south.”

“And what are the odds on this guy?” Alex asked seriously.

Nia made a vague gesture. “I mean, until a few days ago, Brainy had him in the unlikely category. But his latest interview with a Supergirl stan got a whole lot of attention on social media. They were basically at each other’s throats the entire time.” She took a mild sip of her drink. “People ate it up.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Of course they did. And I’m guessing from your tone, not much of the audience were on this super – uh – stan’s side?”

Nia pulled a face, taking an even larger swig.

Kara groaned again, burying her face in her hands. “This is awful. I- I just can’t believe how little faith they have in me now that they know the truth!”

Lena smiled her sympathy. “Take it from someone who was once deluded enough to fall right into that same category of hatefully ignorant.” She toasted her scotch glass to no one in particular, swirling its contents with a gentle twist of her wrist. “It’s not easy for people to accept that their larger-than-life hero was living amongst them.”

Kara’s head shot up in protest. “I never wanted anyone to put me on a pedestal.”

“Want has nothing to do about it. Like it or not, they did.” Lena paused, tucking her legs into the sofa’s arm. She fixed Kara with a level look. “Kara, I say this as your friend, but you have to understand how powerful you are in the eyes of a regular citizen. You fly, you shoot laser beams from your eyes, you’re bullet proof and fire proof. Your power is limitless and even though this city has seen you fall, they’ve also seen you get back up time and time again.”

Kara bit her lip. “That part I can understand, but it’s not just that. This podcaster isn’t only targeting my Supergirl persona. It’s Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El that they don’t trust.” She snorted, throwing her hands wide. “They think the fact that I’m working as CatCo’s Editor-in-Chief makes the whole platform inherently bias. And – yes – I know I’ve fought my own biases in the past, and it’s not like being impartial was what won me a Pulitzer, but to them— a superhero in the press just doesn’t appeal. They think I’m a fraud, that I’ve been manipulating public opinion.” Kara could feel her face begin to flush in frustration. She ran a hand through her hair, standing just to put her energy somewhere. She slammed a fist against her palm, taking a step around the coffee table with every beat. “But, I mean, don’t they remember how CatCo turned on Supergirl after the Red Kryptonite incident? And rightfully, too. I lost the people’s trust then, and now—now it’s happening all over again and I just… I don’t know how to win them back,” she laughed through her teeth, “or if I can win them back!”

Alex took Kara’s arm swiftly as she passed her by, tugging her to her side. “Hey, no one said this was gonna be easy.”

“I think those were Cat’s exact words, actually,” Nia said helpfully, pointing in Alex’s direction.

Kara huffed, anchored by her sister’s steadying hand. “Yeah? Well, they didn’t say it would be this difficult, either.”

“Don’t listen to a few angry voices,” Nia insisted, her voice sobering. “They aren’t worth your energy, trust me.”

“Are they just a few?” Kara asked grimly. If she tried hard enough, she was sure she could still tune into hundreds of versions of that same podcast playing from across the city. Whether they agreed with him or not, the people of National City and beyond were listening to this nameless podcaster, and that was dangerous enough on its own.

Nia smiled tightly, balling her knuckles against her lap. “Just don’t listen to them, okay?” She closed her eyes. “Look, people like to make a lot of noise when they feel like they’ve been lied to, but the truth is, they were never entitled to that information to begin with. When I did my Dreamer interview with you, a lot of people were so supportive; some of them even saw themselves in me, but there were always hateful voices that tried to drown out the positive ones.” She straightened her back, opening her eyes. “But, y’know, they make that much noise because they know they’re in the minority, and they do not have the power that they think. Putting it into perspective like that… it’s a lot easier to ignore them, especially when I know how many people I’ve helped by sharing my story.”

“You’re right,” Kara said softly. Because she was. Of course she was. A single podcast spouting a single negative view didn’t diminish everything good that had come out of Supergirl’s identity reveal. Yes, the celebrity-level thing took some getting used to and openly flying to work made her something of a spectacle when it came to the office situation, but for the most part, Kara was relieved to have that weight off her shoulders, and it was a joy to know just how many aliens felt more confident to live as themselves now that they knew Supergirl had also shared their struggle.

In truth, the world knowing where she had come from, who she had been ever since she’d landed on Earth, grounded her to the people in a way that had never struck quite the same as just Supergirl. And that was worth any amount of growing pains.

Kara reached out for Nia’s hand over the coffee table, squeezing tight. “Thank you.”

Nia’s smile softened. “Any time.”

Lena cleared her throat, shifting higher against her pillow. “And, as for your job,” she said with a sly smile of her own, “let’s just say I know a thing or two about the public coming for your throat, deeming you unworthy of the position you’ve fairly worked your way up to. It’s just like Nia said, you ignore it, Kara. You ignore it because you have nothing to prove to anyone, you’re already doing one hell of a job as a journalist. Remain honest with yourself, and eventually people will see it. Not everyone of course.” She tilted her head, raising her glass to her lips. “You’ll never have everyone’s approval. If you did, well, I’d say you were on another planet, because that’s certainly not how the human race are wired.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nia chimed in, leaning up to clink her glass with Lena’s. She caught Kelly’s glass on her way back.

Kelly smiled fondly, though there was a strained edge to her expression when she said, “We’ve all had to work twice as hard to prove ourselves. And as much as it hurts, that extends to Supergirl as well.”

Kara sat back down with a sigh, leaning into the embrace that Alex readily offered her. “Cat once told me the same thing; right after she’d first claimed Supergirl, actually.”

“Exactly,” Alex said with a sage nod. She kissed her sister’s hair. “And, hey, Cat Grant won’t let a podcast beat down her creation. Hell, her empire is built on powerful women, it always has been, always will.” She gestured to everyone in the room. “You are all prime examples of that.”

Kara nudged her sister playfully, pushing out of her arms. “Hey, well, the amount of times the DEO has personally kept that building from crashing to the ground, I’d say you’re an honorary member of Cat’s empire, too.”

Alex’s nose crinkled. “I think I prefer the title of badass DEO leader, but I’ll take it.” She grinned, rolling her eyes. “The point is, you have us, Kara.”

“Yeah.” Nia beamed. “And our opinion is worth a million times more than some crappy podcast.”

“Oh, cheers to that, too!” Alex laughed and they all converged with their glasses, meeting with a raucous clash over the coffee table.

Cheers rang out all ‘round, and Kara let the simple joy of that moment infect her. Their combined laughter easily blotted out any chances of hearing another word from that podcaster’s mouth.

She'd lost the taste for eavesdropping, anyway.

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 13: Sex, Drugs, & Rock n Roll

Word Count: 677/Rating: M/Pairing: None/CW: drug use (marijuana), mentions of sex, moaning, general debauchery with the guys/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, Wayne Munson, competition

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Dude,” Gareth drawls, taking a long hit from the joint, “y’know what we should do?”

Grant laughs before his friend can even finish his sentence, plunging one hand into the bag of pretzels to his left. 

Eddie plucks the joint from Gareth, earning a scowl from Jeff who was next up in the rotation. “What’s up?”

Gareth grins. “We should record a song—”

“Already did that,” Jeff cuts in. 

“Shut the fuck up! Anyway,” Gareth takes an exaggerated breath, “we should, like, record a woman moaning and put it in the track. Like in Rocket Queen.”

Grant drops a pretzel. “You’re a fuckin’ genius!” He tries to clap Gareth on the back but misses, sending the two into a fit of giggles. 

“Yeah, a genius.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Except for the fact that we’re not exactly drowning in moaning women.” He stretches, exposing a sliver of torso. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re all still virgins. The handy that Jeff got behind the Hideout doesn’t count.”

Jeff elbows him, but Eddie’s too high to notice. “Maybe we don’t need women,” Jeff muses. “Ed, you still got that tape recorder?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up. “Yeah. Somewhere around here.” He digs around under his bed until he finds it, blowing off the dust. 

Jeff presses the PLAY and RECORD buttons in unison. The cassette’s wheels spin. “Check, one, two,” he mumbles into the mic. 

And then he lets out one long, shrill moan. 

“What the fuck,” Gareth guffaws, “was that?”

Eddie yanks the recorder away from Jeff. “Someone’s gonna think we’re torturing puppies and call animal control.”

“Seriously, dude. What porn are you watching?” Grant adds. He takes the recorder from Eddie. “It’s gotta be sexy. Like this.”

He holds the microphone close to his mouth, breathing out moans in short bursts. After ten seconds of that, he glances around the room to gauge everyone’s reactions. 

“Well…” Eddie starts, taking another hit, “that was…less bad than Jeff’s.”

A triumphant grin stretches across Grant’s face. Eddie’s too stoned to elaborate that their other guitarist had set the bar in hell. 

Instead, he turns his attention to the drummer. “Gare? You willing to give it a shot?”

Grant snickers. “Should be easy for him considering he’s barely hit puberty.”

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” Gareth shoots back. Grabbing the mic, he lets out a series of what sound like pained yelps. 

Eddie scrambles for the tape recorder. “So that’s gonna be a hard pass from me,” he says with obviously feigned kindness, “but we’ll keep you in mind if we ever need an impression of someone being electrocuted.”

“Whatever.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you give it a try, Sex God?”

“Just because he’s gotten laid doesn’t mean he’s made her moan,” Jeff points out, earning a high-five from Grant. 

Eddie flips them off. “Fuck all of you. I’ll have you know I’m a goddamn giver.” 

He double-checks that the cassette wheels are spinning, then indulges the guys in the most realistic moaning they’ve ever heard outside of Family Video’s adult section. 

“Oh my god! H-oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!”

“Boy, what the hell are you doing?”

Wayne Munson stands in the trailer’s entrance carrying two brown paper bags filled with groceries. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn bright red, sobriety infiltrating his brain. Long gone is his hazy high. “N-Nothing.” He drops the microphone. “Just messing around.”

“Sounds like a goddamn brothel in here,” Wayne grumbles, shoving Chef Boyardee cans into the pantry. 

“Wait.” Eddie forces himself to look at his uncle. “Like, did it actually sound good? Did I sound like a woman moaning?”

Wayne studies him with a look of sheer disappointment and disbelief. “I’m gonna go out to the truck and get the last bag,” he says slowly, “and when I come back, I want these numbskulls gone, and I want you to never ask me something like that again.”

“Got it.” Eddie nods, but the second Wayne leaves, he turns to his bandmates. 

“Looks like we have a winner, boys.”

--

[erikftglitter]

Ch 4 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens' New Wife

Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

Kari had been focused all week. She adjusted a week’s worth of lesson planning, updated grades, scheduled guest speakers for career day, and managed to grade homework. She did everything that she could possibly think of before the weekend started. She just wanted to relax and she wasn’t fond of spending the weekend prepping.

“Ms. Evans. Can I speak with you for a moment?” Kari’s concentration temporarily seized. Principal Grant stood in entrance of her classroom.

“Yes. What can I help you with?” Kari asked, offering him a half smile.

Principal Grant starred at Kari for moment before speaking.

“The semiannual teacher’s conference is coming up, as you already know, and I wondering if you’d want to represent our school this time around?”

His son broke his arm last night. Administration was overwhelmed by processing each student’s individualized wellness reports. The rest of the teachers weren’t even open to discussing the curriculum. What good would they be to vote on the school’s future? Kari was the only acceptable candidate for the job.

“Yes! Please email me.” Kari beamed. This was a perfect opportunity. She could finally learn firsthand about teaching methodologies, strategies for the upcoming semester, and not to mention the opportunity of boasting her students’ accomplishments.

Another thought crossed Kari’s mind but she was too scared to entertain it. This also presented the opportunity to meet new men. She felt uncomfortable with the idea though. She wanted Dr. Stevens but she did think about the fact that many women were swooned by the doctor. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

Why would he settle for just Kari?

Kari sighed once Principal Grant left her classroom. She was having a very productive time until their conversation. While it wasn’t his fault, per se, she still didn’t want to feel like she did at the moment. She didn’t think about the fact that she rarely knew much about the doctor’s love life or his love aspirations. What if he didn’t care for marriage? What if he hated children?

Breathe Kari.

Breathe Kitten.

That seemed to work. Kari was targeting too many possibilities without any real rationale. If Dr. Stevens wasn’t at least a little bit interested in her, then he wouldn’t have extended the invitation for dinner. That calmed her nerves and she laughed at her own apprehensiveness.

Kari was able to get back to work. The last thing that she needed to do was disinfect her classroom. It was definitely time to wipe down everything, possibly twice, and deodorize the rug inside of the classroom library. The cooling weather would soon attract common colds throughout the school and she wouldn’t allow herself to welcome the breeding grounds of disaster.

Kari’s ride home was quite pleasant. She accomplished a great deal of work and the clean classroom definitely improved her day. She was ready to enjoy yet another weekend of relaxation. She would probably order Chinese food then watch a few of her favorite movies.

Kari had only been in the house for five minutes before the doorbell rang. She peeked outside of her bedroom window and saw the mail delivery truck. She’s not sure about what she needed to possibly sign, but she rushed downstairs to meet the mailman.

“Kari Evans?” He inquired. Kari nodded and gently took the ink pen from his hands.

“Thank you.” Kari said softly as she turned to close the door. The box that she received wasn’t too heavy but she was very curious about its contents. There was no indication of what could be inside of it. Kari didn’t remember if she was waiting for a package, but she usually wasn’t quick to forget about stuff like that. She had already picked up her purchase from the bookstore.

She hurried to the kitchen to retrieve some scissors. She paced herself as she cut along the taped folds. She pried open the box and was soon baffled of its contents.

There lied a pristinely large white box that read Chloé. There was no way that this was supposed to be shipped to Kari. She retrieved the original brown box but it surely read her name.

Kari’s heart was beating profusely as she opened the box. She’d never been gifted luxurious items. She wondered who was honoring her with the gift. What did she do to deserve it?

She carefully pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a stunningly radiant bag. She gasped at the sight of the beige shoulder bag in front of her. Crafted from calfskin. Manufactured in Italy. Is Kari dreaming?

A white card with her name on it caught her attention.

“Kari.

Thank you for showing me around Caber City. As a token of my gratitude please accept this invitation to join me for dinner tonight. I’ll see you at 8.

— Dr. Stevens”

There was no way. Was this man ludicrous? Had he gone mad? Did he just spend three thousand dollars to ask Kari on a date that she already agreed to? Kari didn’t need to ask herself if Dr. Stevens was interested in, for he just made that abundantly clear.

Could she accept this? What truly came with accepting a gift this expensive? Was Erik an abusive ex-navy narcissist? Did he buy his way into women’s lives?

That didn’t sound like Erik but Kari couldn’t quite grasp why he would purchase such an expensive gift. Flowers couldn’t be a first step? Kari was confused. She was very flattered by the bag but confused.

Erik had to be a facade. He couldn’t possibly be real. Who was Doctor Stevens really? His tranquil nature, his perfect physique, his captivating voice, and honorable credentials had to he compensating for something. What was wrong with him?

Nonetheless Kari only had a few hours to get ready. If Dr. Stevens was applying pressure like this then surely Kari would prove herself worthy. She was far too invested to turn around now. Erik made her body weak without being present and she needed to get to the bottom of it.

Jazz music blared throughout the house. Erik had Kari extremely excited about this evening. She was walking on clouds as she got ready. She had to bathe as she was too anxious to stand in a hot shower. She found herself sitting in the tub rumbling over the endless possibilities. She was persistent about getting Dr. Stevens to break tonight. She’s not sure what she meant by that but she wanted a deeper level of confirmation of her inklings.

There was something different about Erik and she needed to figure that out. She was on the route to falling for the man and she wanted to be certain that he was the man for her. She was very grateful that she chose to grocery shop that day, for she felt like her life was just starting to begin.

Here she was lathering a thick layer of vanilla scented body scrub on her legs. The beads of vanilla felt great as she exfoliated her skin. Between the face mask, the shaving, the scrubbing, and the unexpected wash day, Kari took a few moments to rest in the tub. She was starting to grow lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. This was usually a day of very little activity but she wasn’t complaining.

With one final wash, Kari rinsed her entire body with cool water. Her skin was still glistening from the hydrating formulas. Dr. Stevens was in for the night of his life if that is what he wanted.

Prior to prom night, Kari hadn’t had much sex. She would not be the one to initiate those insinuations, but she really did enjoy the way that Erik’s hands felt over her bare body. For the first time Kari felt herself fantasizing about a man bending her over. What was that, she thought. And come this only happened when she thought about Erik?

Kari lazily wrapped her body around a drying towel and reached for the water on the vanity sink. She was definitely parched after those thoughts of Erik continually crossed her mind. She sat the cup down and eyed her reflection. She felt beautiful. Almost as beautiful as her brand new shoulder bag. Kari beamed at the remembrance of the bag.

If she wanted to straighten her hair and have time to do a full-face then she needed to get started. She was very grateful for the creation of the hot styling brush. A blow dryer and straightener in one was life changing. She didn’t need her hair to be silk pressed. She didn’t have time to attempt to get her naturally coils to a fine predicament. However she would straighten it then leave rollers in until Erik arrived. The goal was a feathered look that would complement her new bag!

After what felt like eternity, Kari’s entire head was full of rollers, and she was ready to get dressed. She needed to moisturize her body and sit down before she fainted. The thought of fainting and ruining date night was enough to make her drink some more water.

She continued the vanilla theme well into her fragrance of choice. She felt beautiful. She’d decided to wear a cream sleeveless, mock neck, midi dress that was purchased forever ago. What a lovely time to finally wear it. She kept the makeup simple. A soft, reliable, cut crease was always the perfect complement to any outfit. With a bag of that caliber Kari rightfully assumed that Erik was taking her to an elegant dinner.

8PM was slowly approaching so Kari began to undo her hair rollers. She released the breath that she’d been silently holding. All she needed to do was transfer the essentials from her regular purse to her new Chloé shoulder bag.

Kari perked up at the sound of the door bell. Silencing the jazz music, Kari began to steadily make her way down the stairs and into Erik’s arms.

“Hello Kari.”

__

@theesmartblonde

@ziayamikaelson

@ladymac82

[deathofacupid]

waiting | peter parker

summary: you're trying to be paitent with him, the war with thanos can't possibly have been easy to deal with, much less the trauma. you've given peter all you have, but it's gotten too much.

angst? mentions of past ed, mentions of purging, mentions of sex (like one), cursing a bit, mean petey, panic attck kinda

after the war with thanos, peter had grown distant. and you didn't blame him, you figured that he was giving himself a break, he was taking time to heal. and you understood that, peter was grieving. 

you always tried to be there for him, but he made it hard sometimes. 

never did you hold it against him.

peter had lost his mentor, his teammates, and beyond that- his family. you didn't expect him to move on, it was a lot at once, even more so with the blip. he was still adjusting (you were too, but this was different).

he spent nights on the couch, outside who-knows-where, and sometimes... sometimes he would drink. you took note of the fact he tried not to do it around you. 

but some nights he would come home late, stenched in the strong odor of beer and sweat. peter would be drunk and snappy, and yes, at times it scared you. 

not that you'd ever tell peter that. 

but his "grieving" grew unhealthy, and who were you to let that slide? he wouldn't eat or drink properly, god knows about his hygene, and he wasn't getting enough sleep. so you made him cooperate, which did result in many arguements, but it did work for the most part. but your relationship, you felt, wouldn't ever be the same.

date nights? what were those?

kissing? nope.

sex? no. never. (not that it was a big deal for you, you could care less about that.)

no hand-holding. 

and no cuddles. cuddles. none of those. 

peter snapped at you often. he struggled to contain his temper, and easily grew annoyed. it was like even the smallest remark could lead to something big.

"peter, you have to eat. you didn't have breakfast."

"you didn't either."

"that's different. i haven't been skipping my meals."

"why? you've been throwing up instead?"

he watched as your face twisted into disbelief and pain. but you pushed it away, dead-set on getting peter to eat.

"this isn't healthy, love."

"neither is you getting on the scale a hundred times a day."

you had been checking your weight more frequently again, part of the reason being the fact that you were scared peter didn't love you anymore because you were getting fat. but it wasn't unhealthy. 

you recognized the problem. you told your therapist, stopping it from becoming something bad. 

but peter wouldn't know that. he wouldn't know anything.

"please don't go there," you whispered quietly, "i just want you to be happy, okay? and healthy." that must've been where he felt like the conversation had ended, so he left. you didn't know what to do anymore. so you cried. because that felt like the only thing you could do right.

-

(first person)

"i just don't know what to do-"

"you know you have, like, an actual therapist for this, right?" mj asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"well, yeah, but she doesn't know peter like you do."

she sighed, locking eyes with me, "y/n, peter's being a dick, and i don't know when he'll see that you aren't somebody for him to take his anger out onto. you shouldn't be taken for granted."

"mj, it's not like that. he's just-"

"what? grieving? is that what you've been telling yourself? babes, this isn't even that anymore. it's unhealthy. not just for him, but for you. yeah, he lost people. i did, too. my mom died, y/n, she died. and i wasn't in that hospital with her while she was on her deathbed. why? because of the fucking blip. but i've moved on. everyone has, because where will moping around like an alcohol addict get you?

"know what? i'll answer that for you. nowhere. it'll get you nowhere. i get it, you want to be there for him-"

"no! you don't get it! i love him! i-i need... i need to be there for him," my sentence broke into quiet sobs, and mj pulled my close to her, rubbing my back. 

"i know, i know," she cooed. soon enough, my crying ceased, and i pulled away with red eyes. 

"what do i do, then? just leave him? he doesn't have anyone."

"talk to him. maybe he'll change."

"and if he doesn't?"

mj gave me a look, because i already knew the answer. yes, in a way she was right. it was an unhealthy, toxic relationship. peter was pulling me down, and he was breaking off a piece of my heart every passing day. 

thinking about not being with him, left me with a dull ache, but at the same time, it was a crushing sensation, one that broke me down completely. i couldn't imagine a life without him. 

he was my life. he... is my life? was it too late to be speaking in the present tense? 

maybe mj was right. maybe i needed to talk to him. 

but i was scared. i was really, really scared. what if...? what if it ended horribly? and i never saw him again?

what if i left him, and no one was there for peter... and he'd- he'd die? because he wasn't sleeping right? or eating enough? or staying hydrated? 

what if he needed someone to help patch him up? but no one was there? would he simply bleed out? 

my heart sped faster at the thought, and my breath came out ragged. 

"woah, hey, breathe."

i pushed away any and all thoughts of him, focusing on inhaling and exhaling, trying to get my heartbeat to normal. 

-

(peter's pov)

"peter!" y/n chirped, a grin on her face. i sighed, already feeling a migraine come on. i didn't want to talk. i wanted to sleep, or... i don't know. just not talk. 

"you know that book i've been reading? it's really good, by the way, i think you'd really like it. there's this boy who reminds me of you," she wiggled her eyebrows, "he's like, super scared of spiders. which is ironic."

i tried to tune her out, but her voice was loud. really loud. my head was blaring, and i kind of wanted to puke. 

stop talking. please.

"-coming here! they've got a convention and everything? can you believe it? and, get this, i got us both freaking tickets! we can, like, have a date or something. it's from 2:00-6:00, so we can get food at this fancy new diner that just opened up-"

has y/n always been this annoying? there's no way. if i'd known before, i doubt i would've started this. 

i gritted my teeth, ready to pull all of my hair out. how much would it take for her to fuck off?

"oh my god," i muttered, completely done and exasperated. "do you ever consider carrying around a plant for all the oxygen you waste everyday?"

i watched her smile drop instantly, satisfied. for once, it felt good to hurt someone. i was so goddamn tired of always helping everyone. this was barely a tenth of how i felt. she blinked rapidly, and i went back to the web shooter. 

damn thing just wouldn't-

"can we talk?" i inhaled sharply.

"what, y/n? what? what could you possibly have to say that you haven't already said yet?"

"i-i, um, i-"

"is that all you know how to say?"

"no, i'm sorry. no, wait, no i'm not. you're the one being a dick. which is precisely why i wanted to talk."

"jeez. what do you want me to say?"

"you don't have to say anything. not yet. can you- can you just listen?"

i didn't answer, going back to tinkering. if this would make her feel better, then whatever.

"i just... i feel like we aren't the same. you aren't, at least. and maybe i've changed too, i don't know. i can't really dicate that for myself, that wouldn't be fair," she laughed, and i could practically feel her nervousness. y/n's heartbeat was loud, too, so loud that it felt like it was banging the in the back of my head. i could smell the sweat on her hands, too.

 what did she possibly have to say that was freaking her out like this?

"i love you, peter. i haven't stopped."

"...okay?"

"i'm trying to say that i want things to go back to normal. i don't know if that's even possible, but i know we can try. because i'm willing to make things work, and give you another chance."

i spun around, narrowing my eyes at her. ""i'm sorry, 'another chance'?"

"um... yeah?" y/n said, and i could tell she was getting less confident.

"why the absolute, and i cannot stress this enough, the fuck would i need another chance?"

"do you hear yourself? the way you're speaking to me? how- how did we go from that... to this? my gosh, you used to be the sweetest boy ever. you apologized for things that weren't even your fault, and you said 'thank you' for things you didn't need to say to. what happened to that?"

"spider-man happened. and why are you making me sound like the bad guy? i save lives because i can, out of my free will."

"i miss you," she whispered. "i miss my peter. this isn't- you aren't-"

"aren't what? go on. because i-"

"shut up. shut the fuck up and let me talk. for once in your life, listen," i snapped my mouth shut, waiting, and shocked.

"a memory. a faded picture. a failed potential. because that's all we are now, right? why fight for something i know will go nowhere? why fight for someone who can't fight for me back? you know what i've realized? 

"i've realized there is so much more to the world than this, than you. i realized how much love i could give to the world and how stupid i was for only giving that love to you when you didn't even deserve it.

"this is what i feared the most. this moment right here. the transition between having something and having nothing but regret. and it's happening right now, right in front of my eyes, and there's nothing i can even do about it. 

but, peter, this is for me. this is so i can grow and let go. because now i know that you won't change. if this is the way that it's going to go now, i want no part of it." 

she was crying now, and i scoffed. "what the hell are you even saying? what do you mean?"

"what i mean is, i'm going to stop watering a dead flower, expecting it to grow again. it's over. this is over."

i didn't know what to say, so i gaped at her. what did she mean "over"? y/n wasn't going to just leave, i knew she didn't have that in her. 

"so that's it? because once i get out of that door, what we once had will perish. i'm afraid i'm not ready for that yet. maybe i never will be."

"fine, then. leave. you'll be back anyways," i shrugged, and she sighed, shaking her head. 

so i let her. i let her leave. 

and then i waited for her to come back. 

i waited a long time. 

i still am. 

that's when i realized how she felt. 

she'd been waiting, too. 

the only difference was that we'd switched roles.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐨 - 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2k

chapter summary: if you were wondering how Joel took his spicy picture for Asha, this is how.

warnings: male masturbation, use of a mirror, nipple play, spitting, very explicit, a tad bit of joel putting himself down, you're not there physically but you're definitely there in spirit, brief thoughts of rimming, lil bit of self ass play

a/n: this is a little gift for all of you guys who love SIB, and it's also an apology because it looks like I won't be able to get the new chapter out this week but believe me, I'm working on it 🧡 This takes place between chapters four and five, if you don't mind getting spoiled feel free to read. and yes those are pedro's hands in the moodboard jfc look at those veins

“Do you like it?” 

Joel looks down, a bit shocked, but not unpleasantly. Between his fingers, he holds a photo of Asha, naked as the day she was born. Her lean hand covers her sex, leaving it to his imagination and her breasts were glistening—he presumes she used an ointment of some kind— and her nipples were hard, indicating that she played with herself before taking the picture. 

His cock twitches and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat. 

“ ‘Course I do,” he groans, shifting on the bed. “And you want me to take one too?” 

“If you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t but I ain’t as pretty as you are.” 

With a grin, Asha traces a hand above the expense of his bare chest, the tips of her fingers dipping over his sternum. 

“You’re prettier than you think.” 

Joel stares at the window, his jaw tight and fingers tense around the small shot glass that he holds. A breeze comes through the window and rustles the curtains. He can hear crickets. With a deep sigh, he throws back his head and swallows the amber fluid. It burns as it goes down. 

He closes the windows, then the curtains. He’s hoping the liquid courage would take its effect soon. The bottom of the glass hits the bedside table and he falls to the bed, staring begrudgingly at the camera. He decided to place the tripod right in front of the mirror, which now he realizes wasn’t a good idea. He’s not that thrilled in seeing himself being so unsure. He drags his palm down his face, eyes falling to the drawer where Asha’s picture lays. He’s still not sure why she asked for it—well, he knows why, he just doesn’t understand why him. 

Joel’s aware he’s not the worst looking out here, he’s definitely caught your gaze once or twice lingering on him whenever he’s out fixing the truck. And Asha surely seems to be infatuated with him. But that had only happened now. Not when he was young. Not when he was attending high school and working full shifts to take care of Tommy. And when people did approach him, it was mostly to get closer to The Tommy Miller—his younger brother was always the one with the charm and charisma. 

Suddenly Joel’s heart feels lighter, hints of joy warming his chest. Asha wants that picture. She wants to see him, wants to keep him close.

Licking his lips, he walks up to the camera and adjusts the timer. His mind wanders to the moment he shared with you at the bar. He’d acted impulsively, kissing your cheek like that. The only thing granting him relief was the fact that it seemed nothing more but a friendly gesture from the outside. 

It sure as hell hadn’t felt friendly from the inside. It felt more than that. 

Before pressing the shutter, he sits back down on the bed. The old furniture creaking with protest. He peels off his shirt, throws it to the floor. He thinks about what kind of pose to do, and about how naked he should be. He’s not that comfortable showing his dick. He’s not that comfortable showing his face either—so what the hell is he supposed to do? 

He cups his cock and rubs his palm through the denim. An immediate burst of heat rolls up his spine, his dick twitching with need. He breathes out a soft exhale and repeats the movement. Grinding his palm against his growing erection. 

Oh, that definitely feels nice. 

A smile tugs at his lips and his pulse quickens. Without much thought, he swipes his thumb over a nipple. A hiss elevates from the back of his throat, his hips stuttering into the air. With a sudden desperation, he unbuckles his belt and cheats his hand down his jeans. He’s rough with himself. Grabbing his cock and tugging at the head until he’s hard and dripping. Joel sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, the pain also adding to the heat growing between his legs. 

“This should be good,” he murmurs, walking back up to the camera. He clicks the shuffle and stumbles back, he tries to strike something similar to a pose. He stretches a bit, sucks in his stomach, and decides to leave his hand lingering down his pants. 

His chest heaves, but he’s excited when he hears the click. He’s genuinely surprised at how aroused he is, thick drops of precum heavy over his knuckles. 

Joel had never considered himself to be a kinky person. As far as he knew, he was into the same things as most guys his age. But maybe he had more going on in this thick noggin of his than he thought. 

Joel definitely doesn’t mind the camera now. 

The picture pops out and he yanks it away from the device. He wags it in the air a bit, a form of a body slowly appearing on glossy paper. He takes a good look at himself. Half of his face is out of frame, which pleases him. There’s a slight blur to the background that he kinda likes. Thanks to the way his hand is hidden underneath the front of his jeans, his forearm looks quite nice and strong. 

With a pleased smile, he places it between the pages of a magazine. Then he allows himself to fall back to the bed, his legs hanging off the side. Joel grunts as he kicks off his jeans, not wanting to feel restricted anymore. It’s not often he’s alone in the house. He plans on taking advantage of it. 

He pulls a pillow down to where his head is, getting comfortable, he glances at himself through the mirror. A flush darkens his cheeks. He never watched himself before. Never saw the faces he makes. Some part of him wants to ignore the sudden interest and just take care of his…situation, but the other part of him wants to experiment. It almost feels like someone is watching him. 

He remembers seeing a mirror in your house. Have you ever indulged in this way? Get naked in front of the mirror and fuck yourself with a toy that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as his cock could be? 

I’m fucking losing it, he thinks. But he can’t stop thinking about it now. 

Joel's hand moves down to his cock, his fingertips brushing over the sensitive head. His breathing becomes shallow as he starts to stroke himself, the soft moans escaping his lips filling the quiet room. He closes his eyes and imagines you there with him, your fingers tracing along his body, your lips pressing against his skin. 

His fingers trail down his chest, gliding over the curves of his nipples, each touch sends a shiver, his tighs going taut and stiff. His eyes flicker to the mirror, he catches a glimpse of himself - naked, a flush of pink creeping up from his chest to his neck.

He hesitates, wondering what he's doing, and why he's doing it. But then he remembers you, the way you looked at him at the bar, the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, the way you leaned in close when you spoke. Your scent; a sharp inhale of blooming flowers mixed with the suffocating scent of the paint that you use. You’re a ghostly presence, something that’s always with him, but not in the way that he wants. 

Joel squeezes his cock and moves up his hand, swiping the head with the flat of his palm. He wants everything to be wet, messy, and tight. With a sudden impulse, he pushes his upper body off the bed and goes to spit on his cock. A soft tremor burrows in his stomach. A rather indulgent moan coming alive in the back of his throat. 

Pursing his lips, he spits again, the wetness instantly being spread out with his hand. He watches the way his cock glistens through the mirror. Joel wants to believe it’s your slick instead, making him warm and wet. You’d be so eager to take him, so needy for him to fuck you. His teeth sink into the inside of his cheek. He’d make you beg a bit for it first. Joel would want to hear your voice getting high and squeaky, but he wouldn’t let the game go on for too long. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s not appreciative of you and your perfect pussy. 

His strokes speed up, wet sounds getting louder. Joel allows his imagination to run wild. A string of sultry images flashes in his mind. 

You, on your knees, struggling to take his cock down your throat. 

You, bent over, asscheeks spread, begging him to fill you up. 

You, asking for him to fuck you harder, faster. 

And him, eager to follow every command. 

Fuck, and you’d look so good too. Moaning his name, soaking his cock and fingers. He licks his lips, imagining how you would taste like. Something sweet, he bets, sweet and maybe a bit bitter. Just like you. 

Jerking himself, a visceral whine crawls out of his throat. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment and he swears he can feel you. Your weight, your heat—all of it crashing down on him and bringing him near the peak. He loosens his grip, traces the throbbing vein that curls around his cock with the blunt of his nail. With a shallow breath, he slips his fingers lower.

Joel’s mouth floods when he cups his balls, rolling them in his palm, he gives them a gentle tug. The coil in his stomach tightens, a tremble overwhelming him. With his tongue between his lips, his fingers brush the skin right underneath. His eyes snap wide open, liquid, molten, lava-like pleasure boils his veins—he gasps and his hips stutter into the air, his dick painfully hard, drips over his stomach. 

His hand dips further down his legs. Very gently, Joel circles the puckered hole with the pad of his middle finger but doesn’t dare to go further. He never has. This is as far as he’s gone, discovering that the little tease was enough to get him riled up at a young age. He imagines your tongue teasing over the hole instead of his finger. 

“Fuck.” 

His own voice sounds estranged to him. It sounds so deep, and raspy. Like he’s been sick for days. A shudder overwhelms him when he wraps his calloused fingers around his cock once more. He’s so fucking close. His breathing comes in short, shallow pants, the head of his cock a dark red. He fuck himself into his fist harder, faster, tightens the gap, thinking that it’s you. 

His eyes move back to the mirror, his other hand teasing at his nipples, pulling and twisting them until he moans out loud. The sight of himself, of his own arousal, is a heady aphrodisiac. He’s wrecked. It never felt this good before. There’s a buzz in his veins, an itch that can’t be scratched. His cock is drooling all over himself. His breath catches in his throat—He’s about to—shitshitshit—

Joel fixes his gaze on his reflection; he looks so out of it, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess and eyes glazed over. Fuck, he’s starting to understand now what Asha meant by calling him pretty. 

A long whine leaves his lips as the first string of pearly white cum splashes over his stomach. It’s followed by another one, and then another. His eyes roll back into his skull. He feels it on his chest, stomach, knuckles….a growl rattles in his chest. Pleasure rakes his body from his toes to his head. He strokes himself harder, loosening and tightening his grip around his cock to mimic the feel of your fluttering cunt might be. Joel’s eyes flutter closed, heavy pants leaving his lips. He feels dizzy, disoriented. 

When he opens his eyes again, he smooths his hand over his stomach, spreading the stickiness all over his sweaty skin. He cheats another glance at the mirror. 

God, he wishes you were here to clean him up.

I hope you guys enjoyed this little interlude ♡ I do realize that some parts of this might be a bit out of character for Joel but I just love thinking of him as someone who always wanted to experiment more but just never had a chance to do so, a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. He's just looking for that person he can trust to have some fun with 🤭 I also think of him being a bit self coincidence which we will be seeing more of in the future.

Wishing everyone an amazing weekend, new chapter will be coming soon!

[darthjess-writing]

Anakin x Padmé

This is smut. MDNI. 18+. Mind the tags on AO3.

~2366 words

These are the early days of the Clone Wars. Padmé is frustrated about Senate business, and Anakin is frustrated with the Jedi Council. So when Anakin approaches Padmé in the Senate building all hot and angry, they decide to blow off some steam in her office.

Teaser posted below, link at the bottom to the full scene on AO3.

This is totally unedited, it might be awful I wrote this in kind of a frenzy. If you guys have edits or comments lemme know!

P.S. This is my first attempt writing smut for these two lovebirds, so while I do take constructive criticism very well (in fact I welcome it, if you have tips for me lemme know I'm always trying to improve my writing) I don't appreciate outright bullies, so try to be nice!

A Jedi Comes to Call

Padmé Amidala stood, locked in deep conversation with Senator Organa just outside her office. A large portion of the Senate hearing today had been a discussion of whether or not the clones should be given full Republic citizenship after the end of the war, and it had not gone well.

“I can’t believe how many Senators are more concerned with how this might affect the job market,” Padmé said under her breath. “It really shows where our priorities lie.”

Senator Organa nodded sadly. “We should be setting them up with pensions, not arguing about whether or not they deserve citizenship after fighting our war for us.”

Padmé was about to respond with her agreement when she felt him.

She wasn’t Force-sensitive, but the bond she had with her husband went beyond the Force. Padmé could feel echoes of his resentment, and they melded with her own frustrations from the day, though she had no idea what he was upset about. The Council? Something Obi-wan said? Something Ahsoka did? It didn’t really matter in the end.

And then she saw him.

Anakin rounded the corner, looking dark and handsome and angry. She knew it was wrong, but damn was he hot when he was angry. His every stride toward her was confident, powerful.

Intense irritation radiated from his form. He was tense, on edge, and he needed…oh, he needed release from it.

Padmé’s breath hitched and her face began to burn.

That’s why he was here.

He was coming to her because he wanted her.

Because he needed her to grant him that sweet release that only she could give him.

“Senator Amidala?” Bail asked. “Are you alright?”

Padmé cleared her throat. “Y-yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she said, completely embarrassed because she’d honestly forgotten Bail was still there.

Had he been talking to her?

Bail’s eyes went to the tall, beautiful, Jedi who was now close enough that Padmé could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. And she really, really, wanted to, despite being incredibly annoyed at him for assuming she wouldn’t refuse him even here at her place of work.

That gentle smirk on his lips as he looked at her made her doubt herself.

Definitely doubt herself.

Alright, maybe his assumption was correct.

But she was still irritated.

“General Skywalker!” Bail said. “How good of you to visit the Senate. Did you watch the hearing?”

Anakin’s demeanor changed completely, and he smiled at the man, hiding everything that was burning within him. “No, Senator, I’m actually here to speak with Senator Amidala.”

Anakin’s eyes went to Padmé, and she still felt the pent up anger rolling of him like boiling water, but beneath that there was lust, there was hunger. And it was all for her.

Excitement and anger heated her blood.

Who did he think he was, marching in to her place of work expecting to seduce her? He was insufferable, couldn’t he tell that she was working on something important? She was already angry and upset with how the hearing had gone, and she would have to spend the next few days working up some way to get other Senators on her side of this.

And yet his boldness seriously turned her on.

And maybe he could help her clear her mind.

He was a Jedi, after all.

“Of course,” Bail said. “Senator Amidala and I were just finishing up.” His eyes glanced from Padmé to Anakin, once, then twice. He stepped back, awkwardly. “I’ll be on my way.”

Finally, the two of them were relatively alone in the hall. There were others nearby, but they were all out of earshot.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, General Skywalker?” Padmé asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Can’t I visit a friend at work?” Anakin asked.

Padmé watched his lips move and all she wanted was to feel them against her own. But his words were absolutely infuriating and cocky. She would show him. Her mouth watered thinking about what she’d do to him later to torture him for this. “You’re going to regret this,” she sneered quietly.

“I really don’t think I am,” Anakin replied, smirking again.

She looked up at him, studying him, probably a little closer than a senator and a Jedi general should ever stand. She could feel his hot breath on her face.

The way he looked at her like he could ravage her here, now, against the wall of the Senate with everyone watching, made her knees feel weak.

The tension between them had become electric, and Shiraya help her, she wanted him so badly.

Heat pooled in her core, and she made her decision.

“I’m going to regret this,” she muttered, and walked toward her office.

Anakin’s voice was low, and seductive. “I’ll make certain you won’t.”

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Kim Sunoo Perspective Reading

Disclaimer: No facts here, just my interpretation of the cards/energy, always have to throw this out when I get a wild reading, and this was one. I did not expect it to take me where it did, enjoy the ride if you dare.

Okay, now on to our sunshine Sunoo. Although appears bright on the outside and is a sunshine to others, the song that came out was Walking on Sunshine by Karina and the Waves, so yes, we all know he is a sunshine. I do feel he is a bit of a loner and outsider deep within. An emotional sponge who feels deeply but can also feel very out of place among others. But let's get into the cards and see what I get. Now with him it is hard to get information from him, he takes time to open up, so I may have to sit with this longer, which I am not a fan of. Here we go.

Okay, going to be hard to make sense of what I am seeing here. The first card is blinded by pain. He may be shielded from dealing with pain. So, the number on the deck together comes to 4, this is about home and stability. He seems to have a stable environment around him. But this card can also indicate someone who is numb to pain. Maybe he has gotten used to it. On the card there are bugs latching on to the scars of the woman. I have never noticed that, so this gives me people leech off his weakness, flaws or scars he may have. Now on to the Masquerade card, he has to put an image on display. He can't truly show who he is. I don't see this as malicious on his end. It is like he has to hide his true self to fit in or he is told to do this. Playground by Madonna is playing while I look at this card, not understanding the correlation, but the lyrics this used to be my playground, this used to be my childhood dream gives me this is something he may have wanted as a child, but now it may not fulfill him anymore.

Now with this Revenge card, this is interesting, not sure how this fits in. It seems he may want to right the wrongs that may have happened to him. He seems frustrated and angry at others for doing him wrong. Man, I love how I am pulled to certain images on the card, so on the card the person has wings, but the wings look like dead branches now, it is like they took his innocence for granted. He seems scorned now, it is like that innocence and sweetness is gone. With the perchance to dream card I just get they sold a fairy tale to him, or this was an idea he had. I am getting he does do a bit of escapism here, but not sure what that is. I needed one more card. There is this need to get back, this Sacrifice card reminds me of the 7 of wands, this about defending himself. I am getting he sacrificed himself enough. There is this desire to seek revenge and get back what he lost.

Ugh, this annoys me to no end, once again these cards are showing me he is being bounded from getting lots of opportunities that he should be getting. There is able opportunity for him to be successful and make money, but he is being restricted. I hate seeing this, but I believe it when they say, the company restricts him. I keep getting this. Now why they do this, who the fuck knows. There is a card Doorway to Spirit and blossoming abundance, but in between those cards is all tied up card with someone bounded. It is like he is blocked from gaining success and connecting from himself spiritually. Okay, this is weird, but I feel I am connecting more with his guides, rather than his energy, like I mostly connect with their higher self and energies, but I feel he is disconnected somehow, like is their spell work (I feel companies do this to their idols) to keep him that way, or is he himself blocked himself. I just get this sense there are messages to him to remove himself from his situation, but it gets blocked, either he ignores it, or spell work blocks it. I know this sounds crazy, but that is how my readings go, it is just a sense I get, could be wrong here.

Oh man, this is taking me to wild places, so they could give him things that kind of block his intuition, like maybe drugs, medicine. I look at this Medicine bag card and yes, he is also health conscious and probably takes lots of meds, ya'll Seroquel just popped up, that is a drug for bipolar, major depressive disorder and schizophrenia, why did that pop up, okay I am freaked out, does he take this? Does he have one of these disorders? Nothing wrong if has this though. Ya'll I am legit freaked out by this. I am not claiming he has this, but why did that pop up. I know nothing about that medicine and that could explain the spiritually blocked thing, that could block it. I am sorry my brain is broken right now. This is hard for me to comprehend and grasp if I should believe this. This totally shocked me. Is this why they hide him? Ya'll I just can't believe what I tapped into, this is hard for me to move on from this. Sometimes I don't like this gift of knowing, although no facts! Let me try to move on. I knew I was pulled to this deck for a reason.

With the White Buffalo card this shows his abundance, his ability to be successful, but with this sacred mountain card, it is like he is hidden in the shadows. One the card there is this beautiful city, but it is hidden under the mountains. This gives me his talents and gifts are overshadowed and hidden away.

So, here is another card for him to listen to his intuition, either it is difficult for him to do so, but whatever he is nudged to do, he should do so. It is time to free himself from the constraints he has on him, maybe with himself or how others constrain him. There is another card that mentions awaken his vulnerability, so there could be things he may be ashamed of, maybe he struggles to show his vulnerable and weak side, now you may think he does do that, but I think there are certain things he doesn't want to show about himself and tries his best to hide it. This card is encouraging him to embrace it and possibly reveal it.

Alright, going to end this with Tarot, because this was a lot to take in. Okay, these cards are showing me he wants to act on things, maybe try a new endeavor. He seems to have big plans and dreams, but he struggles to fall through on it. He builds excitement quickly, but it also falls apart as quickly. I can see with the Leo card and the Ace of Wands, he does have a short fuse, can get angered quickly. There is a lot of passionate energy within him. He can be pretty immature though. I am getting lack of fall through with him. He doesn't seem to always think things through either. I don't see him confident in doing the big things he wants to do, the idea is there, but the lack of confidence holds him back. The keyword on the ace of wands, easily bored and tired also speaks to me, so that could be a thing with him. He is someone who can do a lot of big things, but on one end his lack of confidence may stop him, but also, he is pretty restricted from reaching the heights he can achieve. It is like a double edge sword with him.

Okay, this was a wild ride, man, my mind couldn't handle this one. This kind of had me worried for him and like Jimin, there is a disconnect. I don't really feel his energy, more so his guides, which is weird. Maybe they felt they should take the lead here, who knows.

[alpaca-clouds]

The Nature-Culture Divide

Something I have seen a lot of people within the Solarpunk sphere talk about and wonder is: "When did we stop seeing ourself as something outside of nature?" And given that I actually had a module on that (Social Geography, best module I ever had, given we had an anarchist professor!) I thought I could quickly explain this one.

So, the names come, in the end, from Latin and back when those words were considered in Latin, the difference was, that nature was a thing that was innate, while culture had volition behind it. You could change nature into culture by putting work into it.

Something that might surprise you is, that the idea of nature then was never quite big for most of European history. And let me make one thing clear: While we have these ideas also played with in Buddhist culture - especially in East Asia - the way we define it right now is a Western idea.

And that idea... Well, that idea came with colonialism. The thing many do not realize is, how much of the rules and "lines in the sand" that we use in our culture came from colonialisation, came from the desire to make "our" culture different from "theirs". It is shown in the way we eat, in the way we raise children, in the way we view gender and sexuality. And, yes, in the artificial border between nature and culture.

Before I tell you more about this, let me please say here: Yes, this is contradictive. I am aware of it. I am not the one who came up with the contradiction. White settlers did that all on their own.

When the settlers came to America they found a landscape very, very different from what they were used to from Europe. After all, Europe has been changed through human hand for at that point about 1600 years. (And for you Europeans out there: Researching how much forest your local area might have lost through the Romans is always a "fun" thing to do! Because the Romans destroyed a lot of European ancient forests.) In Europe, even at the wildest places, there was usually some evidence of human habitation - but this was not true for the Americas. Not because there were no people there, but rather because the people interacted with the environment very differently.

See, the European idea - while never quite that defined until this point - was really, really based on this thought that nature can be turned into culture. And that this transformation was in fact a good thing to happen. So, when the settlers arrived in the Americas they did not see "culture" there, only "nature" and set out to turn that "nature" into "culture".

Of course, we - modern people living today - do realize that indigenous people had in fact cultures of all sorts and that the actual difference was, that they just did not see that culture as something different from nature, rather than a part of it. Because their culture had not been influenced by Romans. But the settlers back then did not see this or rather did not want to see this. So they "cultured" the land, with the ideas about nature and culture being further formalized at that point.

It kinda stayed like this until the late 19th century, when Madison Grant, the originator of eco fascism came to be influencial. And now he saw something that the settlers until this point were unable to see: The indigenous people do stuff with the nature around them! They change it! For example through controlled burning of forests and things like that.

And this made Madison Grant very angry, because he was very much off the opinion that nature should be "unsoiled" by human hands. So... he made sure that those indigenous people got once more pushed out of the areas they were living, with the same areas being declared natural parks and no longer interfered with by humans (except, of course, all the tourists who destroyed it bit by bit). Leading... To a lot more wild fires.

So, where does this leave us in terms of the culture/nature divide?

Well, the idea has been there since ancient Rome and has very much influenced how much we view nature as its own thing. But within Rome nature was still not quite seen as the opposite of culture - as one could turn into the other. Under the Roman view an abandoned house or a field that was no longer cared for would turn back into nature, while anything could become culture just by interacting with humans.

The modern view really came through colonialism and the way colonialist did not understand (and did not want to understand) indigenous practices. This made people more and more drift towards the understanding of humans being an entirely different thing from nature.

But this is wrong, of course. We are part of nature. We are just animals with fingers and slightly larger brains. And many indigenous cultures understood this. In the end it was the greed of some that made us loose this connection to nature. And that is exactly why we are in this climate change related mess right now.

[ryry-rebel]

Satoru Gojo with a s/o who has arachnophobia

🕷️Satoru Gojo x Reader🕷️

Synopsis- Gojo torments you with a spider because he’s a little shit

Warnings- mentions of spiders, cussing

Word count- 629

Pronouns- none

Content- mentions of spiders, Gojo being an asshole

My Masterlist -> Masterlist

This may or may not have been loosely inspired by something that happened to me

“SATORU GET IT THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

You love your boyfriend, you really do, but it was times like these when you really asked yourself how you fell in love with him. Sure, he is a very prepossessing guy with a hot and cocky personality. He was strong too and protected you whether you needed it or not. He was also a fun guy to hang around, too childish for his own good, but he could get serious when he needed to be. He was caring too. He always made sure to buy you a little souvenir when he was away on missions. And he would always put your needs before his own.

But when he’s tormenting you with a spider because he thinks it’s funny, all your feelings are tossed out the window. You absolutely loathed him at the moment, and you started to reconsider your whole relationship.

“It’s just a tiny spider y/n. Don’t be a baby. It won’t hurt you.”

“How do you know it won’t? Did the spider tell you that?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it did. I can talk to it, and he says he likes you.”

“Bullshit. Now get it the hell away from me! Take it outside!” You kept walking away from Gojo who held the spider in his bare hands. But every time you took a step away from him, he took a step towards you. Granted, the spider was tiny, but you still feared it, even if it was the size of a pea. Spiders were creepy looking and not to mention ugly. Their 8 legs and bulging sets of eyes scared the living shit out of you. You could never fathom the idea of having a spider as a pet. Letting the damn thing crawl all over you, absolutely disgusting!

“Come on y/nnnnn, it’s so cute though! We should keep him as a pet. I’ll name him Nanami Jr.”

“No Gojo! Stop walking towards me you asshat! Take that damned thing outside, now!”

Gojo took another step towards you. Then another, then another big step until you were backed up against the wall. Your back and palms were flattened against the wall as Gojo stood a foot in front of you. Tears began to swell in your eyes, and you started to shake in terror. Gojo wasn’t backing off, instead he started to stretch out his hands, presenting the deadly creature to you. Thinking on your feet, you brought your knee up and kicked Gojo in the balls. Gojo hadn’t been using his infinity, so your knee actually collided with his junk which caused him to double over in pain. His hands immediately flew to his groin, causing him to drop the spider. Gojo went down on his knees as you watched the small bug fall to the floor. You screamed out as you jumped away. Gojo started to whimper in pain as you sprinted back to the living room, hiding behind the sofa.

“Serves you right asshole!” You shouted.

“Owww, okay, I’m sorry, but was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely it was! Now take the damn bug outside or I’ll knee you again!”

“There’s no need. You stepped on Nanami Jr. He’s dead now.” You felt your body relax and you let out content sigh as Gojo got onto his knees and gently picked up the spider. The amount of gentleness Gojo showed to that spider baffled you. He rose to his feet and walked to the front door.

“I’m going to hold a funeral and a proper burial for Nanami Jr. I assume you won’t be attending?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t have remorse for Nanami Jr. Fuck that spider.”

“You’re so mean y/n.” Gojo opened the door and walked out.

Good riddance to that spider.