#i fear this is an obvious thing and someone will send me a link like duh it's this and it's been there for years
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my niece's dvd of charlie brown broke and it reignited the desire to fix the bootleg dvd i have with this interview that is all choppy and messed up including the audio. i looked again in reverse image search in case it's up somewhere uploaded by someone else but got nothing. but also youtube videos are blocked in other countries depending on content you know but i am not going to reverse image search with a vpn for every country lol so if anyone has this interview and can give me a link i would love you
#inxs#michael hutchence#tim farriss#kirk pengilly#pretty sure the interviewer was an mtv regular#i fear this is an obvious thing and someone will send me a link like duh it's this and it's been there for years
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The Amazing Digital Circus: Episode 4 Thoughts (Gangle)
So, who would have thought that the masks were symbolic for masking??
God, the episode has my brain buzzing and I just need to throw it out there to see what others think too. Probably going to do several parts and link them below when done, but for now I wanted to start with the current star of the show...
Gangle
Okay, so. The moment everything really clicked into place for me was the moment where Gangle and Pomni were outside the restaurant having their heart-to-heart. When they were being genuine with each other, and being vulnerable, what does Gangle do?
Quickly reaches for her mask to put on a "happy face" and get back to work. Freaking masking, d'uh. In hindsight, it seems obvious.
Gangle is struggling with depression, and the happy masks are symbolic for medication or other means to manage and hide that depression in order to be accepted into society.
In the instances where the others make remarks about how the happy masks aren't actually assisting with her being likable or fitting in, there's a noticeable breaking sound.
Because, even though she's trying her hardest to hide her sadness - something the others have actively complained about - she still can't win. Her effort are wasted, and her deepest fear - that she's worthless and unlovable - is reaffirmed. Especially after Ragatha makes her remark. Gangle later communicates with Pomni that she typically thinks Ragatha is being insincere regarding her kindness (something people who struggle with self-worth think a lot), and this moment essentially cements that idea in her head.
Another thing I believe, is that Gangle utilizes control, authority, and rules to create boundaries in her world and function through her sadness. So when others don't take such things seriously, it can break her entire worldview and self-image. Hell, even innocent remarks like Pomni wanting to speak to Gummigoo initiated a "tink".
And when Jax completely disregards the entire situation - something not uncommon for him, mind you - Gangle scolds him and laughs calling him "bad" before sending him for more training and trying to reaffirm control.
When Pomni extends a gesture of kindness by offering to close and let Gangle leave early, she stops a moment to ask Pomni, "Would that... be okay?" with an intense expression of concern and hesitation in her voice.
Even when breaking the rules a tiny bit would offer some relief to her day, she has a hard time simply letting go of control. Side note... this reads to me the behavior of someone who has gone through some real traumatic shit. What happened to you Gangle???
And the moment she's freed from the constraints of the day, of societal expectations, she's able to throw her mask away and be her authentic self. Though, I do believe this is a mix of her accepting/wallowing in the depths of her sadness, smiling her way though it while having relief that the shift is over. I do not think she was trying to "game over" herself, it was an accidental trip while she was in the throws of her emotions. Though, does make me wonder on the symbolism from the real world again...
Final thing I noticed was when Zooble speaks to Gangle at the end regarding the happy mask failing. Zooble's remarks are deescalating and reassuring. So your coping mechanism / medication didn't fix this really deep and complex problem? That's okay. We still love you and we'll help you move forward anyway.
God this show makes me feel things.
For real tho, last tidbit that I liked - in their reviews, everyone tied with a B+ except for Kinger, but we're... breezing past that.
So if Gangle had punted the blame onto Pomni to reduce her score further down, I think Pomni might actually have been considered the worst employee and been given a punishment. Just a really wholesome moment of Gangle trying to return the favor from earlier.
#the amazing digital circus#amazing digital circus#the amazing digital circus spoilers#amazing digital circus spoilers#spoilers#episode four#episode 4#the amazing digital circus episode 4#the amazing digital circus episode four#Pomni#Gangle#Jax#tadc ragatha#Ragatha#tadc jax#tadc episode 4#tadc episode four#tadc gangle#tadc pomni#meta#character analysis#episode analysis#tadc spoilers#frankenspeaks
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I got an anon message recently about a Radio Free Monday listing, which I'm reposting redacted in order to make a point:
Did you know [redacted] is just a scammer? Their story has been inconsistant and out right farcical. Nobody with their living situation would have been able to [redacted]. Get real, they are a an obvious fraud.
My job, in operating Radio Free Monday, is to do my best to publicize the needs of people in our community, and to do so neutrally, with discernment but without judgement. I try to catch obvious scams when I can, but when there is no absolute evidence of disingenuous behavior, I err on the side of compassion. You, anon, will lead a much happier and kinder life if you can learn how to do the same.
I don't actively direct funds; my readers decide when and how to give, and how much, and why. Undoubtedly there are people whose fundraisers I've linked to who have been scammers, but that's a reflection on them, not on me or on my readers who choose to give. A scam at the level of a tumblr fundraiser has such a high effort to payout ratio, as scams go, that I find it difficult to even get irritated by the idea, let alone risk someone losing out on help they need. On occasion I've been duped, but so what? Are you so concerned with never being fooled that you prefer to send bitter messages to strangers about months-old posts? Seems a bit desperate, no?
When I have evidence of dishonest behavior, I disqualify the listing or I discontinue linking the request. Statements like "this would never happen" or "this is just obvious" are generally speaking the province of people too lazy to look for proof or too insecure to tolerate uncertainty. It's the way right-wing YouTube influencers make their points, because they have no bottom to back it up and are only interested in pandering to fear.
If you have genuine concerns based in first-hand knowledge, come to me under your own handle with it. If you're just going to say nasty things about people neither of us actually know under anon, get the fuck on out of here. Come back when you've learned to act like an adult.
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I received this ask recently, and I was going to delete it, but I want to use this moment to warn my fellow transmascs about this.
This link, which I have censored for obvious reasons, led to a xitter post with an image. This was an image of a phalloplasty dick photoshopped to look disgusting, with the caption "day 19". It was clearly meant to shock someone and fear-monger about the effects of phallo.
There was no warning for what I was about to see, and had I not had this exact same thing happen to me many times before, I would have been freaked the fuck out.
It's a common trick by transandrophobes to send random transmascs, especially those who want phallo, images like these to fearmonger. Even though this image was obviously fake, other images can look more realistic.
Imagine if you were planning to have a surgery that has nothing to do with gender, such as, for example, a knee replacement. Then imagine if anons sent you images of that surgery being done, before it has healed, to try and discourage you from getting it.
That's disgusting, isn't it?
Random anons on Tumblr are not my doctor. You (general) have no business trying to talk me out of a procedure that I have done research on and expressed interest in getting. I am a human being with the right to make my own decisions, and whether or not I get the operation is between me and my doctor.
If you do this shit, I hope someone throws you off a bridge. To my fellow transmascs, I would advise against clicking on random links from anons if it's to a sketchy site (such as a random xitter user).
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Your One True Nemesis
Chapter 33: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 1k just a lil soft push in the right direction for my idiots 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: i really am just living vicariously through this, like sorry i self-inserted myself into the reader role so i could live out my emotional edde fantasies, it will happen again
You felt foolish, almost, as you tiptoed through the living space towards Eddie’s bedroom. It was such an obvious plot, so uninspired, so typical, like it was written for a bad porno. But it was the only thing you could think of, short of just asking him for what you wanted. And this way, if it backfired and he rejected your sexual advances, you might still be allowed to spend some time with him.
Knocking on the door, you whispered his name, loud enough that you hoped he’d hear. From behind the walls, you heard a loud snort as his snoring was cut short, and then a sleepy, grumbling ‘what?’ as he answered you.
“I can’t sleep. It’s freezing. Unless you want to get up and find another radiator that I can plug in somewhere, could I please just come in there and share-”
“Hurry up.”
Giddy at his quick agreement, you opened the door and ran to the bed, hopping in as fast as possible in case he changed his mind. But to your surprise, you found that he was more than welcoming, wrapping his arms around you and curling his body to the shape of yours, blanketing you in his warmth. And without realising it, you let out a small, satisfied sigh, as you wriggled into him. For a moment, you hoped he might not have noticed, that the slight note of affection and comfort at his touch might go unnoticed, but of course, nothing ever was with Edward.
“You know, I truly must be amazing.”
“And so humble too.”
You teased, but it was a facet of his layered personality that you found truly intriguing. His unshaken confidence in himself. It was something you admired, something you strived for in yourself. You didn’t think that you had the right qualities to pull it off, but it was hard to argue otherwise about Eddie. He was every bit as amazing as he thought himself to be.
“I tease. You are though, Eddie. You’re amazing.”
You slid your arm along his, resting your hand over the top of his own, stopping short of linking your fingers together. Too much, too soon you feared. An unfounded concern, you realised, as Eddie intertwined his hand with yours.
“I feel you have mistaken this as a statement of my self-confidence. I meant, I must be amazing… to have won the favours of someone like you.”
You were stuck in shock, unable to speak. Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes and you tried to swallow back the sudden wave of emotions that swept over you. In a bid to distract yourself, you rolled over to face Eddie, hoping that seeing his face wouldn’t send you into wailing, grateful, sobbing and instead would bring the familiar smile that he always inspired.
“A genuine compliment, Edward? I’m surprised!”
Laughing, with a wide grin pressing upwards the corners of his mouth, Eddie leaned in, his lips tantalisingly close to yours before he blinked and pulled back. Surprised by how close he had come, you instinctively pressed his buttons, teasing him for the slight hint of romance he almost displayed.
“Edward Nygma! Were you about to kiss me?”
“I was. I caught myself though.”
It was hard not to smile at the self-satisfied smirk he wore, pleased with himself, happy that he had managed to prevent any emotional depth from entering this intimate scenario. But when you tried to turn back around, he spoke, bringing your attention back to him.
“Would it have been so bad if I did? Kiss you, I mean.”
Your heart seemed to stop. Nothing there, nothing beating. Time itself joined it, a never-ending moment of bliss, exposure to yet more of Edward’s vulnerability and his true feelings towards you.
“Not at all.”
“Then why haven’t you said so before?”
Interesting, that he would push this on to you. You could feel his anger rising, as it did in moments of uncertainty, or when he felt he had been tricked into exposing himself for what he truly was; human.
“Beg your pardon?”
“I mean, no doubt you didn’t say anything because you imagined I might say no. You probably thought you lacked the relevant appeal. But I assure you that-”
“Are you pleased with how this is going, Eddie?”
Past the irritation he felt that you had interrupted him, he was actually grateful. It was beyond his control, his inherent need to place the blame on others when he felt he had made a mistake. Because Edward Nygma didn’t make mistakes. Although, he feared he had made so many since meeting you. The greatest one being that he hadn’t spent every waking moment kissing you. His eyes began to water at the prospect of lost time, but he blinked back the dreaded reveal of the intensity of his feelings.
“No. I’m not.”
“And would you like to kiss me again?”
“Yes. I would.”
“Well, then. You’re lucky I want to kiss you just as much.”
You leaned in once more, lips against his, dry and soft, surprisingly so. They were thin, shallow, but they felt sweet and tender, and the mere sensation of them on you felt perfect. It felt right. And when you pulled back, the desire to keep going almost pushed you forward once more. But it felt better to end it there, to let those soft, romantic seconds linger, to give them long enough to become memories.
“Good night, Eddie.”
“Good night.”
Instead of turning over, you rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around him, his arms around you in return. Breathing softly, slowly, you tried to lull yourself into a sleep, trying hard to rest the giddy beating of your heart, the goosebumps which covered your skin as excitement filled you. So good were you at trying to calm yourself, that Eddie thought you had already drifted off peacefully into slumber, soothed by his presence, if he allowed himself to imagine he held such calming properties.
You weren’t quite asleep though, which meant you were completely aware when he placed a tentative kiss to your forehead, in on the secret that he thought was just for him.
#finnie writes#arkham riddler#arkham edward nigma#riddler x reader#arkhamverse riddler#the riddler#arkhamverse#riddler#the riddler imagine#riddler smut#the riddler fanfic#riddler fanfic#riddler x you#edward nigma x reader#edward nigma#arkham!riddler#the riddler fanfiction#arkham!verse#finnie yotn
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Kulapari Blog Name: Candied Scorpian
I have not watched Rise of the Kings because Hulu is in the US{It is new so I couldn't even pirate it}-
but I sure love Stinger, so even with spoilers I was excited- IS THAT A SNAKE IN THE GIF??? I just noticed that
but anyways, for a small fandom 'Edit for a dead fandom' I can make edits, idk how to get the clips.... Right theirs on clips of stinger in one pirated site that has season 2
I accidentally watches epidose one of season 2 back in lockdown before kipo was uploaded... Oooh the memories of rewatching this before I slept.
Im still gonna make shitty drafts and post it on ao3, idk what happened, but ill just give stinger amnesia and meet some half scorpian half snakes Hehe! <3
Also bit of a headcanon that Their a emperor scorpia(They are in West Africa...) Idk, maybe other scorpians would assume, or another animal incorrectly guessing. I couldn't find a scorpian in austrailio I liked. Emperor sounded cool- and no ones arguing with me... Ik its someones pet peeve, but hey from reddit the show sucked, and I might still enjoy watching it. My work is gonna be as bad as the writing, also how friendly empoerer scorpians are HAH XD
... I kinda added that their was a disease that just never gets talked about, and eveyrones just, monotone, tired, depressed, something with slow mating cycles and infertility and miscarriges.......... From what I learned empowers are usually aggressive after giving birth, so maybe that anger is channeled to fighting, belief of a lord that is survival and nature is cruel. or smth dark, and oc in the makaign for that.
maybe another scorpian thats seen stingers dad, try to cheer them up... A neutral perspective on bandits and such <3 such good writings ideas I am rushing, please send me link or an account <3
Concept writing of my oc with a placeholder name Magma- for volcano room
Magma is self-aware and quiet, easily accepting of failures, and accepts that not everyone will be a good person and do what they're fully capable of, but they understand they should still stand up for others. They like to argue when they fully research a specific topic, and will trauma dump at a moment's notice to keep the conversation going, they are extremely sensitive so any jokes at others' expense, just when it's directed at them – they quit side eyes – but with someone else is also in the butt of the joke they'll sting. They tend to hold grudges rather than holding others' hands out of awkwardness, having a hard time asking for help. They can bottle all their emotions up, and that leads to… More panic attacks and stinging a frog{Fear of water from threatening to be drowned from an accidental party bash, and misses the hot springs gifted from Chinese scorpion} they acted on it from stinging a frog helping them get to the other side{inspired by Tumblr short story{Lost it}.. They struggle with misinformation, everyone knowing the obvious royalty or power core, and the struggle of political disinterest and being the eldest to have to take the crown and responsibility. He can be bitter about others being wrong or not that self-aware, always keeping to themselves, but the inevitable panic of intrusive thoughts of accidentally murdering someone. They Value and adore it when people like them and know their bad, or even stay, to be listened to is nice and they can only be so much. They can come across as sweet, sometimes a bit obvious to their surroundings, or forgetful souls, but on other occasions, they can play the oblivious card. While plating obliviousness has its wins when seen as stupid, they tend to be insecure about the existence of their responsibility, but not exactly knowing how to not be the cause of corruption, assassinated siblings, letting things go bad, or secretly being power-hungry. Despite all of this, their family loves the self-isolating ‘Sun’ Daughter, and the people see them as having humility and being well educated but a person(forgetting, being neutral and self-aware of their bias on their interviews in boarding school.). They put others' needs before themselves, the weaker their friends, but an enemy could just die.
#kulapari#kulipari#scorpiion#oc#scorpion oc#kulipari oc#stinger#kulipari stinger#headcanon#hc#original character#first post#fanfic in the making#bad fanfic in the making#small fandom#dead fandom
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Some Gilmore Girls // Byler - Mileven parallels which I thought were quite interesting to think about. Buckle up, I have a lot to say!
Rory couldn't say I love you to Dean just like Mike couldn't say I love you to El.
As Dean and El process their words, hurt dashes on their faces before anger takes hold of their emotions, admitting out loud similar thoughts: "You don't love me?" // "But you don't love me anymore?". The reactions from Rory and Mike are immediate: they don't agree with the statement, but don't say the expected words either. They delve into an explanation which does not satisfy the other party at all.
In both cases, it leads their relationship in some sort of limbo, a breaking point. In short, a state which leaves us and the characters thinking if they can come back from it.
Later on in the season, both Rory and Mike both say I love you to Dean and El and the scene appears as a big pivotal moment in the shows.
The only differences being the choice of music (more upbeat than emotional in Gilmore Girls) and the fact that Rory and Dean kiss meanwhile Mike and Eleven don't. It can be noted, however, that in both shows, someone who loves Rory / Mike is left standing by, watching the love confession, namely Tristan and Will.
Both love confessions are given with an explanation as to why the "I love you" hadn't been said before. What lies at the core of it is fear and commitment issues.
In Gilmore Girls, Rory explains to her mom that she was scared, that she didn't know what to do or what to say at that moment. She adds that she didn't want to hurt him. Her mom goes on to explain that she doesn't want Rory to be like her and have commitment issues when it comes to love, to the point that it would prevent her from saying it.
In Stranger Things, Mike admits multiple times that he is scared of losing Eleven (including to Will!) or that she would not need him anymore, meaning if he did commit and said I love you, she might go and leave him at some point.
NB: Though it is not said nor explored, this very well could be linked to Mike's parents unhappy marriage and their lack of love, but that's another matter...
Now, you may wonder, how if all of this is interesting in terms of Byler? Let me start by saying that I do believe that Mike does love El just like Rory does love Dean. But their love for them does not prevent them from loving someone else, i.e. Jess and Will, other love interests.
At some point in both shows, these relationship become long-distance. Rory spends the summer in Washington, leaving Dean behind in Stars Hallow. Mike stays in Hawkins whereas El lives in Lenora. In both cases, it is canon that they send letters to each other.
For those of you who haven't watched Gilmore Girls, it is fairly obvious from the moment that Jess arrives that Rory crushes on him and quickly develop feelings for him, despite the fact that she's with Dean and loves him. Which also means she's very conflicted and tries to ignore these feelings.
This inner conflict may be the same that Mike is having. How?
When the long-distance thing is going on, Rory finds herself utterly uncapable of sending one single letter to Jess but as it is showed, she has no problem sending many to Dean, who she's still with.
And according to Will's words, El has a "book of letters" from Mike meanwhile he didn't get any. Mike has no issues sending El letters because as he explains it, she's his girlfriend. But somehow he couldn't send any to Will, his best friend?
Are letters purely romantical? Would it have betrayed hidden feelings?
The lack of contact from Rory and Mike hurt Jess and Will, and they end up confronting each other about it. Both confrontation scenes really mirror each other: they're filled with tension, the characters get pretty defensive, other love interests are mentioned (El, Dean and the girl Jess is dating).
Jess accuses Rory of not reaching out. "Did you call me at all? Did you send me a letter? Postcard?". Meanwhile Will flat-out accuses Mike of having called only "maybe a couple times". Both Rory and Mike don't know how to excuse their behaviours.
Rory admits she hasn't called nor sent a letter, but jealousy is sipping through as she mentioned Jess's girlfriend and she's left angry. Mike seems angry too at Will's accusations and wonders out loud why it must be his fault and not Will's as well.
As the shows go on, Rory and Jess along with Mike and Will do make up. Things end between Rory and Dean because Dean caught on Rory's feelings for Jess and later on, Rory and Jess are together in a relationship. Mike and Will have plenty of heart-to-heart scenes in the rest of season 4 and that leaves us wondering if they will go down the same route as Rory and Jess.
Will El catch on Mike's feelings? Perhaps with the painting? Will that be the cause of the break-up?
Will El walk off on her own and leave Mike "behind" just as it is hinted at the end of Season 4? Just like Dean left Rory stranded saying Rory didn't want to be with him but with Jess?
I guess we'll have to wait to find out!
#byler#byler theory#byler s5#byler analysis#mike wheeler loves whoever he wants agenda#will x mike#mike x will#mike wheeler#will byers#byler parallels#byler x gilmore girls#byler is requited
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Please don’t send me donation asks. They won’t get posted here. I’m really sorry, but I want you to know that your time is better spent with someone else.
(post features potentially triggering and general uncomfortable content under the manifesto section)
I might sometimes post musings about sexual ideas and i will be horny on main sometimes, but i will always tag it properly. Under the tag “18+”. i also have exclusive tag “#gold goes crazy on main” that you can blacklist if you dont wanna blacklist the more general tags for your own reasons. i also have an NSFW Tumblr account under the name veganvore (i just think the name is funny, sorry vegan vorers). i will block accounts that do not state that they are an adult over there, which reminder, will also prevent me from seeing your stuff
I try to tag for commonly triggering content but i sometimes forget for stuff like bugs because i simply dont find them scary or upsetting. if you really cant handle seeing a bug at any capacity then my blog probably isnt for you. I consider bugs in less scientific context to be all of pancrustacea, but i tag spiders separately because some people fear them uniquely, and i do not tend to tag for crustaceans such as shrimp or crabs because discomfort around those is less common. I tag very plainly; I do not use cw or tw, I just flat out tag the thing as itself. i also try to tag for all animal death and dead animals, including bugs and fish (which are tagged separately because i know not everyone reacts to dead bugs or fish the same as mammals or birds or reptiles)
I do not tag syscourse as syscourse anymore because I get too many people who I don’t want to speak to when I do. replacement tag is #really stupid shit you dont wanna see
If your dni has an identity that i identify with on there then know i am not not interacting with you out of respect, i am not interacting with you because you are a fucking asswipe. Be a better person. People who believe they know more about me than me, or use trauma as an excuse to be bigoted and stay bigoted, do not have my respect.
Liberal blocker
intro post for NERDS!
im gold just call me gold. Or, my other names include tank and any model/(appropriate. none of the bigoted ones) nickname of tank, plane, or nuclear bomb (aside from fat man or little boy or enola gay for hopefully obvious reasons). i will respond best if it is very clearly directed at me or is one of my favorite vehicles/bombs: tsar bomba, kv-1, molodets, locust, chaffee, whatever whatever
my pronouns are he/him (normal caps), He/Him, and HE/HIM. i stole pronouns from god and HIM from the powerpuff girls
trans and gay full of autism adhd yum
im a shapeshifter otherkin. I am othervague for all these things (swings between kin, hearted, and link): birds, machines, and ‘pedes (millipedes and centipedes). am werebear; this is not a physical identity, i just much prefer to use the “were” term for it rather than otherkin, as it feels much more correct. But really, i can be anything. i have experienced a whole range of nonhuman stuff, cuz shapeshifter. if i post in a more specific tag know i am not attempting to like… invade, or anything. i mean for one i think thats stupid and for another i do actually be feeling that way
Russia place/countrykin. not a putin supporter or even a nationalist; Слава Україна. more connected to the land and its “memories” than anything else. if this confuses you please read my post: Nationalists do not love their country
i am plural. im fuckitgenic. you dont get to know how traumatized or not i am, cuz i dont even fucking know either. I don’t even think it’s that relevant. I am because i am, we are because we are, trying to look back into this life to see why it turned out this way is, in our opinion, just not fucking worth our time.
You probably wont see my headmates here as they struggle to form words for outside use, but you still might.
headmates you might see include:
The Eagle (he is a bald eagle)
The Nothing Beast (a big jet black dromeosaurid-like monster with back spines. actually quite nice. speaks in all caps)
Sputnik-1 (introject of the satellite). Profile is @satellite-one!
Bear (a spirit bear. might come off a bit mean. Bear is often just trying to protect us, but Bear also struggles with friendly or respectful communication)
Bat (We don’t know much about him. he hides away a lot)
Alan @amcomputer
if you start complaining about “uehhh but i have to know if youre traumatized to know how valid you are!!!” im going to skewer you like a shrike. we do not take kindly to prescriptive labeling.
i am posic (Perception of Object Sentience, Individuality, and Consciousness). I don’t believe objects speak to me and i dont believe they are externally alive, but i feel like they should be. it happens especially with military vehicles and nuclear missiles. when i look at them i feel a similar sense of life i feel when i look at an animal. is it weird? Oh yeah. It is. i have thought about this a lot and i can expand on it in another post if wanted.
im also objectum and conceptum tbe american flag is my boyfriend im sorry… I hate the government and i hate borders and i understand it would be better for countries to not have influence over material reality and all that shit (i am an anarchist. winning) but countries as a concept beyond reality are really important to me please understand. nationalists hate him (me) actually
carrd (mentions nsfw topics)
neocities (wip)
tags
#shut up! the eagle’s talking! - essays and personal experiences
#this is chrome ball radio - My headmate Sputnik’s thoughts and feelings.
#gold goes crazy on main - mentioned above. though not actually just plain horny stuff, more for musings that may be sexual and have to do with me personally and I GUESS I LIED!!! ITS HORNY
#and that eagle? well. hah. It was me - just stuff about eagles. Any kind. i love eagles
#falconer hood experiences - Dreams that i have. theyre crazy. you will want to read
#first past the posting - USpol. Some of it isnt totally USpol (first past the post, the namesake, is a pretty prevalent issue in plenty of modern day democracies), but i live in the US so it’s what im probably thinking about
#galaxies of valleirkro - My spore stuff. Many permutations. Species will be tagged #valleirkro (species name), for example #Valleirkro Zoxun. Characters will be tagged their full name, such as #ikli-kit keletet.
#M.A.D. or Mutually Assured Destruction - Sentient country stuff that got out of hand and now is basically sci fi alternate history about learning to love each other and rise up against the powerful people and ideas keeping us apart. Characters will be tagged #M.A.D. (character name), as they only have a single peopley name. For example, #M.A.D. Maximilian. I do not tag them as the countries they are if I have a name for them, mostly because I don't want confusion when speaking of them in the same breath as the actual country. if you want to know which is which, do not be afraid to ask - i usually try to choose names that are of cultures and languages in the country, but I know not everyone is familiar with other languages, and many names are found across multiple cultures. Curious about what the fuck the ‘canon’ i keep talking about is or why not all characters seem to act in a way you’d expect? read this post.
#gold's Starmen - Characters that can traverse the multiverse. Characters are mostly of the species Arvien; flat-faced bird people (yes made out of a desire to try to get away from the country stuff. i know yes, it did not work. but now i have a whole new world so it's cool). Species get tagged as #Starmen (species), for example #Starmen Arvien. Characters get tagged their full name, for example #Zakul Kuzarus. Sometimes exceptions are made for characters that do not have a "full" name. They instead have their species name after their name, like in #Ihsek Xek.
sometimes i post stuff under the tag “#strano shari”. this is because i made the mistake of thinking about the very scary looking russian state sponsored countryballs comics again. it is called страно шары (can be romanized as strano shari). every single time i post about it my research will go nowhere and you will want to stop me. you cannot stop me
manifesto (sort of like a dni + its opposite but i actually explain things to ease my anxiety and autism) if you dont wanna read this thats fine but dont be surprised when i say something you dont like lol
Almost anyone is welcome here. But if you believe that you know more than other people do about their own identity then go away. Disgusting shit. Begone
that being said you cannot change your race. racial emotional limbo should only belong to people who are mixed race. You can find ways to participate in another culture without being the race often associated with it. many people would be much happier to show you their culture if you weren’t trying to identify as the race associated with it. Begone
I cant believe this is something that needs to be said anywhere but if you are an apologist for imperialism, capitalism, or authoritarianism, or are otherwise a supporter of any of this shit, fuck you. USSR, Russia, USA, China, Israel, Nazism, whatever i dont care. they all suck and you shouldnt be trying to blanket excuse them. Begone
go away if you indulge in zoophilic or pedophilic content. hope it’s obvious why. indulging in lusting after real ass living beings who cannot consent is fucking weird as shit. Begone
transage is fine. its not about pedophilia, that is a 4chan smear campaign cuz they thought it was fucking weird. it is about age regression and trauma and that kinda shit, idk, just read up on chronosian identity or something if you want. Also the things we associate with certain ages are more often than not socially constructed and so like idk, fuckin whatever dude. Begone
if you think age regression is bad then you do not know what it is. it is also not pedophilic in nature, it is often about comfort and often is a trauma or anxiety response. Please research and talk to real people before assuming something is bad just cuz it sounds weird. Begone
mspec lesbians are cool. “contradictory” labels are cool. my (real physical person) boyfriend is every letter of the queer alphabet and every person who hates a contradictory label will face our combined wrath. Begone
medicalism die begone. scientists do not know everything and often even science itself goes against “medicalist” beliefs. Minds are actually super crazy and weird and science understands this. If you are happier, or more at peace, and more able to understand and work with yourself because of a label and the support that comes with it then it is a good one.
^ includes “not supporting” endogenic systems by the way. Begone
creating headmates is fine (i think most of my headmates were accidentally created) but tulpa terminology is based upon a pretty heavy series of cultural appropriations of Buddhism (have you ever heard of “chakras are connected to your organs”? yeah. thats not true. thats a western idea that comes from the kinda colonial concept that we can force an eastern religion into the originally western conception of science as almighty truth that everything must tie to to be considered real by anybody, and the western idea of tulpas are mainly from this version of buddhism). Asian religions and cultural practices are already a really big target for western cultural appropriation, maybe we shouldn’t add to that, okay? i mean i wont tell you to go away like i have for the others here. and i actually wont tell you that its absolutely not okay because this is a pretty complex little cranny of reality. but i do ask you to perhaps be a little more conscious of how this stuff all connects
it is okay to be wrong
bangalangadooda
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hi! no rush in answering this and I hope it all works out with your job, sending good vibes. I wanted to ask for some advice as my partner hss AFRID and (probably) anorexia. they've been refered for help for the AFRID stuff specifically and they (for very valid. and obvious reasons) don't feel comfortable opening up to drs about the other loads of eating problems they have. Now they are being monitored and freaked about abt the need to gain weight etc
Im helping them as best I can but it feels very us 2 (and our friends) vs the rest of the world plus that I feel I'm p much winging random stuff that Might help see what sticks. We are trying to find some middle ground were they can make some "progress" so they aren't coerced into something they really don't want to do by drs and so they can have a little more energy etc etc.
We are also both still living at our parents and it's all just not ideal. rn. Any advice at all would help really, is there anything I should do and anything I really shouldn't? just typing it up to someone who won't tell me to force them to get themselves admitted is already a relief tbh thank u for ur work on harm reduction <3
Hey anon! Thanks for reaching out. It can be so hard to find any information about how to support people with eating disorders that isn't just "Go get professional treatment right now," so I will do my best to share some stuff that we've been talking about in my harm reduction + peer support networks!
Correct me if I'm retyping your situation incorrectly, but my understanding of what you shared is that your partner has ARFID and is also having other struggles with eating more related to anorexia in terms of fears about weight gain, body image, etc. Their doctors know about the ARFID and are receiving some sort of treatment for the ARFID, but the treatment is triggering some more of the anorexia stuff because of the increased monitoring.
This sounds like a difficult situation for both your partner and you as a support person, and I can understand how stressful it is to have to worry about coercive treatment on top of trying to figure out ways to cope with disordered eating in the first place. It sounds like you've been doing a really good job supporting your partner and listening to what they need, and trying out lots of different things to see what's helpful for them. I'll share some tips, but as always, what works for one person won't work for another! Asking your partner and collaborating with them to figure out what their exact needs and wants are is always going to be the most important.
@librarycards just made a post about harm reduction in eating disorders that I'm going to link to. I'm not going to restate everything they wrote, but one thing they talk about is identifying what feels like a necessity that can't be changed right now, and what things feel like there could be some wiggle room and space for change right now. If your partner is open to it, it might be helpful to sit down and make a list of what kind of eating disorder behaviors feel absolutely necessary right now that can't be changed, and what things feel more flexible. I think it's really important to be able to do this nonjudgmentally--a lot of eating disorder recovery spaces argue that "recovery" is all or nothing, and that allowing any kind of eating disorder behaviors is a failure. It can be really important to use a harm reduction approach to identify goals that actually feel doable for us, instead of saying the only option is to stop every eating disorder behavior and mindset 100%. That will look different for everyone, but explicitly giving yourself permission to continue some eating disorder behaviors can sometimes help people meet other goals around energy, quality of life, etc that are important to them. I know for me, having both ARFID and anorexia made it incredibly difficult to try to focus on dealing with both at the same time. I completely stopped trying to focus on any ARFID goals in increasing variety or challenging sensory needs, and instead just focused on figuring out coping skills and how to meet the energy needs for my body. Giving myself permission to only eat safe foods, ignore social norms around food, etc, helped me a little bit with figuring out how to cope with some of my restrictive urges. It might be worth figuring out with your partner what goals feel like priorities at the moment, and making a plan together.
Another thing that I found super helpful in my own journey with the ARFID and anorexia combo was learning about fat liberation and discussing it with other people. Basically all mainstream eating disorder treatment doesn't bother to spend anytime talking about fat liberation or fatphobia, and usually actually perpetuates a lot of fatphobia. I think that being able to dismantle the societal ideas we learn about weight gain, fatness, and diet culture is super important for everyone, and I think that for disorderly eaters, it can also be super important to track how that influences our own self-understanding of our eating. This list by Rachel Fox is a great starting point for fat liberation resources. For me, it was super helpful to be able to read through articles and books about fat liberation and discuss them with other people, and build a political understanding of fatness that allowed me to connect what I was reading to my experience with disorderly eating. If this is something that your partner is interested in, having someone to learn + read with can be super impactful.
I think it can also be crucial to think about your own boundaries and needs as a support person. You are not in charge of "fixing" your partner and your partner does not need to be "fixed." You're allowed to not know the answers to things, need to take breaks to support yourself, and to also be going through difficult times. Both you and your partner's autonomy is important, and figuring out ways to support without feeling responsible or trying to control each other can be really crucial. I can tell how much you care about your partner and it sounds like you're doing a really incredible job with all the ways you're providing care. If either of you ever feels like you need a space in your life to talk about this, ANAD offers peer support groups both for people living with eating disorders and for family/friends of people living with eating disorders.
Other than that, there's not a ton I can think of for things you should or shouldn't do, since it seems like you have pretty good insight into major things to avoid (forcing people into hospitalization, making fatphobic comments, reinforcing diet culture, forcing recovery) and are doing a lot of things right (asking your partner what they need, trying things out and being flexible, making room for harm reduction style goals instead of only "recovery.") Keep asking your partner how to support them, collaborate with them on the best ways to provide them care, and continue being there for them through this hard time.
Truly sending you and your partner the best of luck, anon, and hoping that you both can find some care and healing during this difficult time. All the solidarity and please feel free to send any other asks with more questions, vents, anything, <3 <3 <3
#asks#eating disorder tw#arfid#mad liberation#harm reduction#psych abolition#<- for my own tagging system#sending all the love + solidarity your way!
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FSR rambles PT
PART. 3 BABY OF BEING CRINGY ABOUT MY OWN AU
LET'S GOOOOOO (Big send of too this chapter, holy shit)
Lol so like: One thing I didn't wanna do was suppress how much Zelda meant to Shadow Link's character arc for the sake of Vidow "Working".
Shadow Link does love Zelda FYI our mans is Bi. Idk if you noticed...but this whole comic is just polycule central there's no shipping wars, you can ship everyone basically. X'D
Zelda was a huge role in Shadow Link's character development to being a good boy, so it's only natural he's attached to her. (This will also be shown in the next chapter...Hehe)
Also the way his emotions around Vio are so charged that the best way he can put it to words is Vio is "Really cool" is like, so dumbly sweet. Bro can't properly even word how much he adores this man.
Shadow Link has made it no secret he wants to be buds with Vio for reals this time, and he's also 100% not interested in helping Gannon. So...There really ISN'T a reason Vio and him should have the same issues Vio was worried about. Thus, he tries to sooth Vio's fears.
*cough cough cough* gay. Shadow Link's so anxious about asking.
Lol so I got a "Writing rule" for Vio...He ain't gonna cry till I crack him completely like an egg. X'D He will get very close tho: Like this moment.
The way I put blush on the nose area specifically indicates someone's like, close to crying or is crying. I just like this face particularly because there's so much shit going on in that head of his.
The start of the hug is so damn awkward (Intentionally so)
These panels mean so much to meeeeeeee-
Everything about em
The hug, Vio's so close his face is squished (He's so adorable.)
Shadow Link doesn't immediately hug him back he's stunned.
Hehehehe. Vidow go brrrrr..
This entire page is just: PAIN.
Shadow breaks the hug to show him the book.
The wording leaves it so ya can't help but think he hoped the introducing of their friendship would change Vio's mind about being Link again...That his words earlier were just mad ramblings and not how he actually felt. But with a clear head Vio verbally says he still wants to be Link again.
Lmao bro tries not to crack again aaaaand fails.
The book is one about healing magic...What kinds are in there I wonder. ;) A refrence...to a past Selda game mayhaps?~
Also this frame of Shadow Link full blown ugly crying while pretending to be fine is so hilarious to me idk if it comes off as sad or funny but it's kinda both to me. X'D
Mans is crying for him and Vio at this point.
Vio putting the book down in favor of comforting Shadow Link is just kinda one of those things that like, if he had ignored Shadow Link the reader would have noticed, but him being like, decent is smth that isn't nearly as "noticeable" (Like, ya typically notice a character being shitty WAY MORE than you notice all the subtle things they do that are just, kind.)
Also Shadow still wants to be helpful even though he's like, sobbing his eyes out. X'D
He also tries to hide from Vio lmao. Vio saw the water works bro.
Quite a few things:
Shadow's still toxic, just a little. X'D He WANTS Vio around, he misses him like crazy and does not want him to leave, AT ALL. This is very obvious lmao.
But he's also at the point where he knows he can do better than just screaming and throwing tantrums like he did as a kid. But his true feelings about how betrayed he feels Vio still wants to be Link are STILL THERE. Even if he chooses to try and hide them.
Also funny detail: Vio blushing was a lowkey gag because of the whole "They're both attracted to red flags" joke.
You could also take it as him being scared shitless, which he IS.
While he can't take back snapping at Vio, he certainly realizes his mistake very quickly and apologizes. So that's SOMETHING at least. (Considering the type of person he was before, a relapse or two is expected lmao.) I think him still having a certain level of anger management issues makes his character overall more interesting.
I like to think the only reason Vio gave him any patience for that, was because Shadow Link has been nothing but patient and there for him all night and he knows Shadow is emotional as fuck.
As Vio gave him shit for the fight with Blue earlier showed, Vio doesn't tolerate Shadow's crap when he's just being a violent shithead.
Hahaha. Remember when Link outright stated Vio wanted to be Vio and not Link. :) Link sure is a way more reliable narrator than...idk...The guy who lies...
*Whispers gently into your ear* Vio's not being very truthful here...
Notice: He only. ONLY brings up "Logical" reason...not his actual FEELINGS on the matter... He SAYS "I don't want to be Vio"
WHY. WHY!? TELL US WHY VIO!!!
He does have a reason but he's not tellin' lmao.
So, in the book it's not really...SPECIFIED where Shadow Link came from? Like I think all it says is "Gannon drew him out of the dark mirror"
...THAT IS SO UP FOR INTERPRETATION AND BRINGS UP SO MANY QUESTIONS:
Did he have a life in the dark world and was just, TOLD to do Gannon's bidding? His line of "I'm your living reflection in the dark world" MAYBE supports this idea...??? KINDA?
But my issue with that is: Shadow Link gives NO indication he has had a past in the dark world, like...at all. Nothing. No mention of family (Which...Reasonably wouldn't he have a dark version of Link's father???) He's the ONLY PERSON who's implied to be FROM the dark world. Also...The dark mirror isn't REALLY implied to be a PORTAL... The seal on Vaati and his demons was, but Shadow Link wasn't freed from that, Gannon "Drew him from the dark mirror" to release Vaati...So uh...HMMMM His also distinct lack of his OWN name kinda makes me go ???? Like...His NAME is Shadow Link...Like that's not a nickname. That's his NAME. (Like this just weirds me out because of a cannon "Reflection" of Link: in Ravio. Who like...HAS HIS OWN NAME???? ik Ravio isn't from the "Dark world", he's from Lowrule, but point still stands this is odd.)
Suffice to say, there's just not enough info here to draw a conclusion for me? So I gotta make shit up. X'D Shadow Link was created out of Link's Shadow by Gannon in FSR. This is also the reason he resembles a Gerudo male. Cause Gannon said "Mm yes, my evil Link sona will have my heritage. UwU"
Shadow link realizing he almost made Vio cry is so funny to me.
Vio looks so fucking pathetic there. lmfao.
Shadow's words only hit again like Link has stated: Shadow knows Vio
Whether intentionally or not: what he says hits Vio like a ton of bolders.
He's very hesitant to keep talking though because he doesn't want to hurt Vio either.
It's like, he's AWARE he's telling Vio this shit because he WANTS him to stay, but you also can't deny Shadow's at least CORRECT in a lot of his statements. How far should he push that though? Hmm.
His "Oh my god you're an idiot" face is hilarious. Shadow's like "You still don't get what I'm laying down dude??? REALLY!?"
*Explodes*
Lmao. That panel before they kiss is basically my favorite in the entire comic rn. X'D
Shadow pulling away and squishing Vio's face is also a favorite. Vio's just cute and squishable.
Vio stating the obvious: That his mental breakdown wasn't Shadow's fault. (Wasn't really anybody's fault it was inevitable, especially with the curse/Dark Link active)
Lmao. Vio's kinda dumb as bricks sometimes too. X'D
Shadow Link's fucking deadpan stare while Vio rants is so hilarious to me. Also the direct quoting of Vio instead of paraphrasing making his statement sound even more stupid.
Also fun dialogue thing: You'll notice the characters stutter or like, pause weirdly, Because I like writing dialogue a little more realistic. Like Shadow Starts off as "I-was" instead of like "W-was" like he thought of saying smth completely different at first or his mouth moved before his brain did. X'D
Their banter is fun, Vio's his sassy self. Shadow giving him all the kisses we desired...
Okay ngl this page hurts me X'D Like. Ouch. All of it hurts.
Because of how Link kinda abandoned Shadow Link (Even though he was always there) Shadow is OBVIOUSLY very hesitant to let go. It's super obvious Vio doesn't wanna let go either.
Also Vio kissing him back surprises Shadow. X'D He's still bamboozled Vio is receptive to his affection oof... (Would like to show him getting more comfy with it as the comic goes on like "Holy shit, nah he's not playing around with me he fr-")
They mean so much to each other. QuQ
Okay to make you laugh in these very serious panels: Because Shadow's floating Vio's standing on his tip toes.
On that note, can't wait to see yall for the next chapter, whenever I get around to it. X'D
#Four Swords returns#FSR rambles#loz fsr au#fsr au#LOZ AU#four swords adventures#four swords manga#shadow link#Vio Link#Vio#Vidow
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I'm Vax, She's Vex
Another little thing from me! This one is fully self-indulgent and has the twins both being trans, Vex a trans girl and Vax a trans guy. AO3 link is here - send me comments if you like it! Note: there are a couple of lines that mention Syldor being physically abusive, so if that's not something you can stomach even in small quantities, be careful!
Full fic text under the cut.
“You look stupid in a dress.”
Vex’ahlia straightened the fabric out, tugging at the seams to try to loosen the stiff material. It clung tightly to her frame in some places and hung too loose in others, her body starting to grow and change in ways she was already tired of, in ways she’d been dreading since she learned about them.
“I know, but it’s not like I can go out there in anything else.” She sighed. “You look stupid in that too, that… whatever that is.”
“I think Father called it a tuxedo?” Vax’ildan shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric in a way not dissimilar to how his sister was wriggling and shifting in her too-fancy dress. “Do I look that bad…?”
“Not like, ugly bad. Just weird. It doesn't suit you.”
“I never thought I’d see you in that many sparkles,” Vax giggled, moving to tug at one of the sequins on his sister’s dress. “I wish I could wear it for you…”
“I would wear yours if I could. I hate this thing.” She adjusted it again, wincing as she heard a sudden ripping noise. “Oh, gods, did I-”
“Are the both of you done yet?” That was, of course, their father. It took no effort at all for Vex’ahlia to hate him, not since the day they met - not since the day he stole them away from their mother. Vax’ildan had tried desperately to please him, but it was obvious it wasn't working, his frustration with them ever-present, his distaste clear in every interaction - or lack thereof, Vex couldn’t bring herself to say out loud.
“Yes, Father,” Vax called from inside the room they were changing in. “We’ll be ready if anyone comes-”
“You had better hope they don’t,” Syldor snapped back. “If anyone comes to speak to you, they’ve already made more mistakes than I can bear. Just keep yourselves quiet and do not, under any circumstances, bother the guests. Understood?”
“Yes, Father,” Vax reiterated. “We won’t.”
“See to it then.” The sound of footsteps could be heard for a few moments down the hall, before their father turned a corner and the footfalls became too far away to hear. As soon as the sound faded, Vax began to cry. Quietly, of course, desperate not to be heard as he had been instructed. But it was plenty audible to his sister.
“You should take the stupid thing off,” Vex offered, trying to comfort him. “It’s not like anyone will come.”
“But if someone does…” Vax stuttered through tears. “Then we’re in so much trouble…”
“I don’t care if we’re in trouble! He’s so annoying and mean, I don’t care if we make him mad. He’s mad all the time anyway, so who cares!”
Vax flinched at the shift in the volume of his sister’s voice, the sudden gesture she made. The cause of that flinch, that fear, was not lost on Vex - she knew perfectly well that Vax took much more of the physical torment their father inflicted than she did, despite him protesting louder. He was easier to walk on, maybe that was why. Vex certainly didn’t like to let herself be walked on. She’d rather get kicked on her side than roll over.
But that did her no good in this scenario, so she swallowed her frustration and moved to wrap her arms around her brother.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” She tangled her fingers in his slicked back hair, trying to pull a little of the gunk loose.
“It’s fine… don’t pull on my hair, it’s fine.” He grumbled, pulling away. She didn't move her hand fast enough, and tugged a little too hard, causing a yelp from her brother. She winced at that noise herself, sick of hearing him in pain, sicker that she could inflict more on him even by accident.
“Sorry…”
“It’s fine. Just…” He trailed off, looking down at the fine fabric of the tux he had on, fitting in all the wrong ways.
“Just what?” Vex pried. “It’s fine, you can say it.”
“I just wish he hadn't put this stuff in my hair, that’s all.” That was definitely not all, but Vex had to tolerate it as an answer for now. Instead of pushing further, she took a brush from the stand beside her and dunked it in water, starting to run it through her brother’s hair.
“What are you doing?” He squeaked, an undignified noise that made Vex giggle. “You’ll get this thing wet!”
“Not like anybody’s gonna see it before it dries. And you said you wanted the goop out, so I’m getting it out. It comes out with water, right?”
“I didn’t say- you shouldn’t take it out. I don’t want him to be upset-” Vex shushed him, continuing to run the brush through his hair, the gel slowly starting to release the strands from the glued-together mess it had caused.
“Looks like it does,” she said. “Almost got it. Relax.”
“Fine…”
“Vax?”
“Yeah?”
A silence hung in the room for a moment. Vex swallowed around the lump in her throat.
“I wish I could be like you.”
“What do you mean?” He turned around, a little bit of water slinging off his hair. “I thought you hated how I act around Father-”
“Not like that,” she cut in. “Like… how you look.”
“You want to wear this thing? Trust me, it sucks. It’s stiff and uncomfortable and pinches and-”
“No! Well, yes, but… no. More than that.”
“What, then?” Vax tilted his head, confused. Vex swallowed again, desperately trying to bury the anxiety in her chest.
“I wish I could be a boy.”
There. She said it. It was out in the open.
“Well, I wish I could be a girl. So I guess we’re even.”
Wait, what?
“What, what?” His response drew Vex’s attention to the fact that she had said that out loud, and she turned her face away, trying to hide her expression.
“You also want to change?”
“I… yeah…” His voice was nearly a whisper, clearly harboring the same fear she felt, though she tried her best to hide it from him. “Are you… mad at me…?”
“No! No, I… I just wish…”
“I would trade with you. If I ever could.”
Vex nodded, a silent affirmation that she would do the same.
“Do you promise I look bad in this suit thing?”
“I thought it was called a tuxedo,” she responded.
“I’m serious, Vex…”
“Sorry,” she shook her head, clearing the smile from her face. “Yes, you look terrible. Like, hard to look at terrible. Mostly because you’re clearly miserable… a little because it’s wet, but mostly because you're miserable.”
“The wet is your fault,” he retorted, “but… you mean it?”
“Yes. I do.”
He smiled at that. There weren’t words for a moment, the room silent and still - and then he pulled her into a tight hug, water from his hair dripping onto her dress.
She didn’t mind, she thought, if it got ruined.
“Good,” he finally said. “I’d much rather look good in yours.”
“If I can manage to get out of it after, you can try it on,” she smiled at him. “If I can try yours, anyway.”
“You can try it as long as you keep me from tearing it off myself first.”
“It’s that bad, huh?”
He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, it was that bad.
“Brother, just take it off. You look so miserable.”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, anger crossing his face. That anger quickly replaced itself with fear as he realized he’d responded too quickly, too harshly.
“I… what?”
“I didn’t… I mean…”
“Don’t call you brother?” She pushed.
“... Yeah.”
“Does it hurt? When I say it like that?” She grimaced. She hated the idea of hurting him.
“... A little, yeah…”
A pause, and then-
“I won’t anymore, then.” She proclaimed. “From here on out, forevermore, you are my sister.”
She expected her brother - sister, she corrected herself - to react in… some way. She wasn’t sure what she expected, actually.
But whatever she thought would happen, she didn’t predict him - her? - bursting into tears.
“Are you okay?” A pause. He - she - kept crying. “Sister…?”
“It’s good,” she finally forced out. “It’s really, really good.”
That was good, then. That was fine. She could work with that
But…
“Sister?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I change too? Can I… be your brother?”
“Yes,” a snap response - not angry, just immediate. An immediate, emphatic yes. He could be her brother, and she could be his sister. And everything…
“Everything can be okay,” he said out loud.
“Everything can be okay?” His sister - his sister - responded with a question, not a confirmation.
“Yeah,” he said, the same immediacy to his answer. “Everything can be okay.”
“He’s going to be furious.”
“I don’t care. You're my sister. And I love you. And nothing else matters, gods dammit-”
“Don’t swear!” She admonished, falling into the same thing their father always said when her brother - brother - made the same mistake.
“Nothing else matters,” he finished. “As long as I have you.”
That was a good enough finish for her.
“Brother?”
“Yes, sister?”
“I don’t want to be Vax’ildan.”
“Well, I don’t want to be Vex’ahlia. So I propose a trade.” Her brother smirked.
“A trade?”
“Yeah. A trade. I’ll take your name, and you’ll take mine. I’ll be Vax, and you’ll be Vex - I’ll be your brother, and you’ll be my sister.”
“I’m Vex, he’s Vax,” she said. Her brother - Vax, her brother Vax, the name no longer hers - laughed, a real, loud laugh that they weren’t allowed to do in their father’s presence.
“I’m Vax, she’s Vex,” he stated, sticking his chin up in the air, proud of himself.
“I like that, I think.”
“I think I like it too.” He grinned. “So, sister…”
“What, brother?” They were both grinning now, the euphoria of it all setting in.
“I think it’s time we get out of these clothes. They clearly don’t match us, and that just won’t do.” He giggled again. Vex - that was her name now - looked at the ground, fidgeting with the fabric.
“Right?” He pressed, and finally she nodded.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Cool,” her brother said, and dragged the dress up over his head, discarding it and moving to pick up the shirt he’d had on before.
“Not that,” Vex shook her head. “Put this on.” She held out her shirt to her brother - not a blouse, just a shirt with a low, slight collar to it. Far too boyish for her, she thought. But maybe not for him.
“Trade me, then,” he said, holding the still-too-fancy blouse out to her. Wordlessly, she accepted the offering, tugging it on over her head.
“This looks so much better,” Vax grinned, turning around from the mirror he’d been looking at himself in. He drew a short gasp when he saw his newly christened sister in the silky fabric of his old clothing. “Oh, you…”
“Is it bad?” She winced.
“No. No, you look…” he paused, not sure what to say for a moment. Then: “You look pretty.”
“I… do?”
“Yes.” An affirmative nod.
“I’m pretty…” she smiled. “I’m pretty. I’m pretty!” His sister spun around, the blouse flaring out just a little at the bottom, barely noticeable were it not for the fact that they were both fixated on its existence upon her.
“You are,” he said, “and I’m dashingly handsome.”
She shoved him, gently, on the shoulder. “Gross,” she giggled. And then… “Father’s going to kill us.”
“Father won’t even notice.”
“He will when you start… growing, and I don’t. Do you really think he wouldn’t catch on before that?”
“Well, considering your voice is still high enough to sound like a girl, and I can lower mine, he definitely won’t notice that. And he doesn’t pay nearly enough attention to us to notice anything else.”
“He’ll find out eventually,” she sighed, a dark look crossing her face.
“We’ll run away, then.”
What?
“What?” She said out loud.
“We’ll run away! We’ll pack our things and leave, and go back to Mother. And she’ll love us exactly how we are.”
“Do you really think that will work?”
“It won’t not work.”
She smiled.
“I’ll have to trust my brother’s advice, then.”
“Don’t worry, sister. I’ll fight off all the terrible beasts in the forests.”
“With what, the kitchen knives you keep stealing?” She laughed.
“Something like that!” He grinned, puffing out his chest in a distinctly boyish way.
“Well, you'd better steal some more. And some bags for our things. We’ll need them.”
“We will.”
A pause.
“Vex?”
“Yes, brother?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. You’re the best brother in the whole world.”
“You’re the best sister in the whole world.”
There was comfort, then, in holding each other, in feeling the fabric on each other’s skin, smooth silk on her and rougher, soft cotton on him. Comfort in knowing what no one else knew - knowing she was Vex, and he was Vax, and they were exactly how they wanted to be.
They were good at keeping secrets. And someday, they both thought, they wouldn’t have to keep them anymore.
#vax'ildan#vex'ahlia#critical role#the legend of vox machina#tlovm#vox machina#they're both trans your honor
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I just read Kitsune reader x yan Scaramouche's fic, may I have gotten hooked on it? and of course, it's just perfect and that's why I'm here to lose a part two with nsfw, thank you in advance and understand if you refuse:3
Link to Part 1
Summary - Taking you captive, Scaramouche continues to see you as a pillar of support. Coming back home to have you there, always. Even if it meant chaining you up.
Pairings - F!Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche
Warnings - Smut, slight noncon ( I tried to make it as consensual as possible but its difficult with yandere themes ), fingering, electricity play
Rating - NSFW
Penpal - Ahhh I'm actually beginning to get attached to this series, might end up writing a couple more posts with different hc and stuff. I hope you liked the post though, have a great day <3
A/N - The literal definition of the ‘stoic cruel boy who’s mean to everyone but you.’ Oh well, Scaramouche is ooc af, but I did change a few things in his backstory so its supposed to make sense for this story ;) Also- since we dont know Scaramouche’s actual name, I have the reader still… yknow, call him Scaramouche. Which is kinda weird cause its his harbinger name but oh well. Also, credit to @cycletr4in for proofreading it ;3
Taglist - @cursedraiden
Stay with Me pt.2
Scaramouche was a gentle captor.
In contrast to piercing eyes and harsh stares when it came to others, he had a soft spot for you. Like the ice that encased him whole melted at your touch, craving for the warmth only you could give him. For your arms around him, to play pretend and imagine he were a child, free, fearless, unbound. A child in your arms, safe and protected.
But you were held hostage, which meant that the chains around your wrists and legs held you down and secured you. Like you were bound to one spot like you’d always been, except this time you didn't have a choice.
You weren't waiting for the Kitsune Saiguu.
Hell, you didn't even have your vision.
This brought on resentment for the dark haired boy. You hated him, you despised him for holding you down under his own judgment. But at the same time, all you saw in him was a child, a little kid who hadn't had the time to grow up. The one who refused to do so because it was his only way to survive in the type of world he lived in. Hide behind that same facade he developed as a kid, snide remarks and unrelenting cruelty.
Just to come back to your arms, sobbing because he was still that child. Sobbing because he was still hurt. Sobbing because you were still his beacon of light, of hope.
He depended on you.
And as much as you built up harsh words to use against him, they dissolved in your mouth when you saw him. His vulnerability that he saved for you and you only. A deep part of you cared for him, a little too much.
Gentle fingers brushed through the locks of Scaramouche’s hair, twirling it around and playing with the strands. It was smooth, a small detail no one would have the chance to notice from the distance he put around himself and others. A quiet hum left his lips as he leaned against your chest, eyes fluttering closed against the soothing feeling of you against him.
The lavish silk sheets were soft against your skin, pillow pushing your form to sit up. Just enough to have Scaramouche in your arms, knees on either side of his body as his head rested under your chin. His chest rose and descended, almost on beat with yours, if not just a tad slower.
You hoped he wouldn't hear the way your heart thrummed against your chest.
Warmth, his body flushed against yours, the luxury of a bed and the small candlelight on your bedside. Different from what you’d grown into just on the side of the trail, sitting for decades. Or with your time with the Kitsune Saiguu, it was never this warm, never this gentle.
But this warmth ended at your beating heart, furiously blazing. Sending an urge of adrenaline through your body, whispering ‘run’ through your veins. A primal urge that would've had your hands around Scaramouche’s neck, till he was wrangling and dead.
Till you could escape.
Hand slowly sliding down his jawline, you let your gentle fingers ghost along the soft skin of his neck. Claws outstretched and ready, sharp and pointed with a deadly intent to kill. You could end him so quickly, overturn his trust and make an escape. You deserved it, you deserved freedom. Not a delusional boy who thought himself protector against someone who’s lived decades more than him.
Jolting at the sensation of a soft grip on your wrist, you watched with idle fascination as he simply cupped your wrist in his hold. Not stopping you, not restraining you, he simply brought your hand to his face. To his lips where he pressed the softest of kisses into your palm. So heartfelt and genuine that all you could do was freeze, not even considering clawing his face.
“I love you.”
You both stayed in that position for a few moments more, silence cradling the tension that slowly dissipated from your body. Forlorn eyes watching as he shift the angle of your wrist to kiss your fingertips. He wasn't waiting for an answer, basking in these soft moments where he could hide in your hold. Like a child, forced to grow up too quickly, yearning back for his foolish naivety, yearning for the childhood he missed.
You were that childhood.
Which is why he clung to you so dearly, showed expressions he didnt know he could make, hold you captive under the impression that it was ‘right.’ What he was doing was okay.
Claws retracted, you pursued your lips, holding back the tears of frustration that burned at your eyes. You hated him, hated him for the chains on your wrists, for the disappearance of your vision that you’d given so much value to. Hated him for the warmth he still made you feel.
You hated him.
You felt like a housewife in some respects. Not with the cleaning and cooking part, and of course no children were part of the equation. But in terms of support, you stayed rooted to that room, loose chains too strong for you to break or tug holding you down. Window was too far, and you were stuck moving around the bed and the desk that sat just a little farther away.
Attempts at having your vision back or more freedom in movement had been discussed with Scaramouche, but as childlike and free as he acted with you, he was not an idiot.
“I don’t plan on underestimating you,” was his answer, head resting on the plush of your chest. “You’re strong, always were. But I have to take extremes to make sure you don’t get hurt, some people out there are stronger than you.”
You wanted to point out that there were a ton of people stronger than him as well, but you kept your mouth shut. “Can I at least see the house? I’ve been cooped up here for so long…”
And he cant say no to such an innocent request as that right?
So he unlocks the chains, the vision at his side reminding you that he was strong. You solely knew that he’d been tough as a kid, and under the intensive training he’d seemed to endure, he was much much stronger. You werent willing to give it a go and lose his trust just yet.
Not like he really trusted you anyways-
At the very least, you’d hoped to get some sort of blueprint of the house, and all you’d received was confusion and your mind making up that the house itself was a maze.
“Didnt we… just pass through here?”
Glancing at the obvious frustration on your face, Scaramouche chuckled, pulling your arm through the hallways you swear you’d seen three times prior. “Nope, most of the hallways look pretty similar. The house wasn't built for dumbasses.”
You flashed him a look and were about to make some snideish rebuttal before you saw the smirk. You knew what he was doing, trying to comfort you with casual arguments you both used to have. Consisting of you telling him to work on his people skills, and him calling you a lazy ass. Of course you missed it, but you also knew you couldn't go back to it.
And then there was the issue when you learned that he was a harbinger.
A scene you didnt want to replay in your head, when a maid burst into your room, Scaramouche acting a tad more intimate. He had an awful tendency to do that, hug your waist and press his face against the crook of your neck. Press gentle kisses down the length of your shoulder that had you shuddering. You weren't used to intimacy, and considering you’d watched him grow up, it was just weird.
Stuttering, the maid had demanded that he was requested by the Tsarista. You’d seen the fear in her eyes when Scaramouche slowly turned to her, seen the unshakable immobility of standing under his gaze.
“Do not enter.” He said, “It’s on the door.”
That was the first time you’d seen Scaramouche kill.
You hoped it’d be the last.
But you’d seen death before, so much death in the time of the Kitsune Saiguu. And for a few seconds, you found yourself fearless as you yanked against the chains, yelling at his figure at the doorway.
“Tsarista?” You snarled, standing just a few feet away from him. His hand on the girls neck, clenching around the pretty skin of hers. Disgusted, the chains that held you back from closing the gap and throwing the girl away from him were impossible to overcome. “Why the hell does she need you?!”
‘Let go,’ you wanted to say. ‘Let her go, she’s going to die.’
It worked, because the ironclad grip was gone, the maid tumbling to the ground lifelessly. You’d been too late, and now her blood was on his hands, your hands. This was your fault and you had half the self control not to thrash against the chains with sharp claws, hands on his neck.
The hard steel gaze vanished in an instant, and like he’d regained his senses, he took a few steps to you. Hands clenching to fists before loosening to fingertips brushing against his palms. Confusion, regret and guilt clouded his features like a child waiting to be reprimanded. You didn't back away, stood firm and fierce when standing and keeping a tough front.
You wanted to cry.
“Its… its a long story.” He finally stated to your question, and when you didnt budge, he took a deep breath. In control again, he closed the distance between the two of you, “I’m sorry.” And that same thrum of electricity jolted through your body, sending you into a spiral of the girls lifeless eyes and Scaramouche’s childlike eyes. Till everything went black.
You woke up with the body gone. Scaramouche was gone as well.
You learned that Scaramouche liked to have things his way. Which meant that he was always in control, always had control of every situation.
Even in those short stretches of vulnerability when he rested in your arms, he still held something over you. And you had to adapt, shift for his wishes, coddle him and stay as his beacon. Because he was stronger, and even if you’d find some way to escape, he would find you.
It was odd, and you slowly let go of the image of him as a child, you knew he was a lot older. He’d probably reached the age your body was stuck in, and with every sweet kiss he pressed to your lips, you knew he saw you as some sort of lover. But as someone who wasn't in control, you simply had to play along, just until you found some way to make your escape.
Without killing him.
_-_-_-_-_
“Strip.”
Laying on one side of the bed, your eyes jolted open at the commanding voice. Slowly, you sat up, eyeing the dim figure at the doorway. Without the help of a candle or the moonlight at the window, you could distinguish Scaramouche at the doorway, taking off the large headpiece as he flung it to the ground.
“Excuse me…?” Your voice was soft, rusty after an evening nap.
“I’ll make you feel good,” was his only answer. Slowly making his way to the bedside till he could properly face you. His eyes were soft, but there was an odd sort of determination that you hadnt seen before. You held back his stare, confusion lacing your features when he suddenly started pulling off loose decorations that hung on his clothes. Just till he unlaced the vest and slid off his shirt. “Don’t worry.” But you didnt know quite what he meant until he leaned further to you, catching you off guard.
So you yelped when his hands suddenly slammed down on your shoulders, shifting you to have access to the buttons of your top layer. He was quick when undoing them, simply swatting away at your hands when you protested and tried to pull him away. Throwing it to the edge of the room when he was done, you could only thrash in horror when he undid your trousers just as quickly, pulling them down before you could grab them back up.
“Scaramouche? Hey-”
And then he threw you down on the bed, exposing you in your undergarments in the cool air of the room. Shivers crept up your spine and bristled across your skin, and before you could curl up to at the very least hide away, you felt a tug at your chains. Fear finally settled in when you saw Scaramouche attach the chain to the bedpost, until your hand was lifted up and he began to do the same to the other.
“Wait wait wait, stop and explain what you’re-”
Only then did he pause from what he was doing, slowly looking down to properly face you. His eyes slid up and down your body, and he took a step towards you. “I’ll make you feel good,” were his only words, and you were forced to take them as all he was planning on giving you. Only when he sat on the bed next to you did you realize what he meant, hand settling on your shoulder, waiting.
“Alright,” you said slowly. Painfully, the words bit your tongue, but you were merciless against someone who had control against the situation. You could say no and you knew Scaramouche would stop, he was gentle to you and you only. And even if he’d been firm just before, you knew that he’d still stop if you asked him to.
A part of you felt thrilled to have that power over him.
Another part of you just wanted to escape.
But you didnt have any hope to do so unless you were willing too give him everything. Because he expected everything and would do anything in his power to obtain it. You’d let him fiddle around with this delusion, thinking that he had control. Until he didnt.
Which is why you didnt flinch when his hand gently slid up your stomach, cold against the warmth you’d had under the blankets. Rubbing gingerly against your skin and drawing smooth shapes over before he slowly slid over your body. His eyes seemed to glint under the darkness of the room, lust filled and wanting.
You didnt shift uncomfortably, you pretended to be that doll he expected you to be.
Just staring up at him as he slowly leaned down to kiss you. His lips felt like snowflakes on a winters day, idly swaying side to side to catch one in your mouth. Jolting like electricity when they melted into your touch, red and swollen when he pulled back. You now vividly felt every touch, as if a current flowed and static jittered in the places he briefly brushed his fingertips.
“You always take such good care of me,” he breathed, lips slowly drifting down your chin. Just past your jawline and right on your neck. The space between your head and shoulder, a soft vulnerable spot that had your lips humming at the affectionate pressure. “Its my turn to take care of you.”
And then his lips were everywhere, collarbone, shoulders, cleavage. Just until his teeth were tugging off your bra, face nuzzled in between both breasts. Both of his hands now resided on your hips, grabbing both thighs to hold them up and against him. You could feel him hard, pressing so close to your heated core.
You managed to keep your reactions in check.
Just until he slowly grinded against you, mouth on your breasts as he again pecked the soft mounds, molding his lips against them as if he could remember the texture, memorize the feel. It was just to that point that mindless sounds slipped past your lips, turning to gasps when his hands on your thighs suddenly buzzed, and static rushed in. Your legs felt weak, entire body thrumming in response to the electricity he sent jolting.
He was using his vision.
The realization was numb against his lips on your breasts, hands slowly stroking the skin of your sides, travelling up. He hovered over you for mere seconds before mashing his lips against you once more, different. He was no longer gentle, and it was with the contact on your tail that you lost all control. When he gently moved it out of the way, backing up.
You were a mess.
Not that you tried to be, you’d been doing your best not to enjoy his touch. But it was hard when your core heated up so fast, mashing both legs together in hopes he wouldn't notice. You knew he would, any action beyond that was just you trying to save your dignity.
He sat there like he was enjoying the sight, the first time you’d seen him actually portray any visual confirmation of satisfaction towards the chains. He’d drink dry any ounce of control you gave him, and it was impossible not to give him it all when you were visionless and vulnerable.
But the dignity you struggled so hard to keep shattered when his hands brushed against your inner thigh.
Fingers slowly made their way to the padded fabric of your undergarments, two digits rubbing the area slowly with expertise. You bit your lip, muffling any groan of anticipation, hiding the way your hips tried to rock back into the gesture. Desperate, oh so desperate. Hiding back the whimpers as he slowly quickened the pace of his fingers against your garments. “Archons Y/n,” he murmured. “I haven't even put anything in and you’re already a squirming mess.”
“Shut u-up,” was all you managed, trying to shift away from the pressure against your clit. But his other hand was on your hip, holding in place. You could only watch and press your thighs tightly together as he slowly slid down your panties, resuming hovering over you. Distracting you with kisses, his fingers gently stroked your core, two fingers slowly sliding into your cunt using your juices.
He was gentle when pumping both fingers in and out, too slow when you thrust your hips to meet his fingers, pleading for him to go faster. But he liked hearing your cries, slowing down when you begged, quickening when you whined and just lay there, taking it.
You shuddered the first time electricity jolted from his digits.
It was when he had three fingers that he sent the static up your body, back arching with such intensity that it even had him chuckling. “Oh? You like it that much?” And then it is like something buzzed against your body, fingers vibrating against your clit as your thighs tightened around his hand. So much that you thought you’d crush it, but it didn't matter, not with the electrifying feeling against your body. It felt so odd, so overwhelmingly good that it had your legs sliding up and down the bedside, toes curling as the static grew and you fell paralyzed to his touch.
It didn't take long with his fingers thrusting in and out of you to cum. Moaning mess when he gave you the time to breathe, teeth biting your bottom lip and then mashing against yours. Your eyes grew fuzzy and most happened in a haze, and all you knew the entire time was that you’d given yourself to him, and that it felt good. You couldn't see the childlike wonder in his eyes anymore, not the need of a beacon or of support. No, the look he shared was feral, the smile tinting his lips almost scary. But it felt too good to care, and you let yourself enjoy his ministrations.
He pulled out and suddenly his own shorts were undone, boxers thrown to the side of the room just like all your other clothing. You didn't see how big he was, just felt his hard shaft against your throbbing cunt, pussy dripping and legs open wide and tired after your first go at it.
You expected him to be gentle like he’d been with his fingers. But he pressed the tip against your core, and in one full motion he was in. Teeth grinding against each other, you held back a scream, shock coursing through your body, overwhelmed with pain and discomfort. It hurt. But it was quickly overshadowed by his movements as he slid in and out of you, slow when pulling his hips back, and rocking himself completely inside you each time. A pattern that let you catch your breath and lose it all the same. Like he was continuously having a go at hitting the deepest parts of you, pulling back before fully thrusting into you and sending waves of pleasure and pain alike.
It was expected, but you couldnt hear yourself.
Not with your mind trapped in a haze of how he felt, body still buzzing after how he’d pulsed his vision through you. And now you were at the mercy of his member, hips swaying along with his, no energy for you to rock with him and try to push him deeper.
Archons, you didn't even think he could go deeper.
But you were proven wrong again and again as he kept the steady pace, hands clawing at your ass and hips. Stabilizing himself and trying to press himself against you, as far as he could go. Slowly, his hands drifted up to your hair, playing with the soft sensation of your furry ears. Pinching and rubbing, fingers coaxing the back of them like a massage. So gentle, but it paled in comparison to the harsh treatment of his dick.
You came first, gripping the chain with your hands in an attempt to stay stable. Walls clenching around him one last time before you got your release, your moans turning into cries when he continued to thrust into you. Your body felt numb, all nerves centred on the way he pounded into you, chasing his own release.
When he did, he pressed his head into your chest, his own breaths heavy with pleasure. Not pulling out, you could only lay there helplessly as his seed filled you, warm in contrast to the electricity he’d shot up your body just earlier. He didnt pull out, and laying in your chest, your heavy breathing didnt stop until he was asleep, collapsing on you and using you as support yet again.
Taking only a minute later to regain control of your senses, you shifted uncontrollably at his member inside of you, sending waves of pleasure every time you moved. Your wrists were restrained and you were stuck in this position till morning.
Achingly, you looked down at the boy, wondering how you would ever manage to escape.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact hc#genshin impact oneshots#genshin headcanons#genshin impact scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#genshin smut#scaramouche smut#genshin fluff#smut#writing
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Broken-Style Remix: Yandere Mother Talia Al Ghul
Broken: When it comes to Yandere Mothers, Talia Al Ghul is one of my favorites; considering how obsessed she is with her baby daddy. Recently, I came into a Yandere Talia Al Ghul Image made by @anxiousnerdwritings & with their permission, I have been allowed to make this Broken-Style Remix! Now, let the words weave together!!!
@anxiousnerdwritings's version: LINK
SUBTITLE: THE ONE YOU THREW AWAY
Talia Al Ghul wanted things thing and would do anything to obtain those things - Complete Control & Undeniable Power. She was the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul - The Head Demon of the League of Assassin & Immortal Mad-Man, well...not anymore; now Talia was on the Throne as Head of the League of Assassins, but there was a time before everything went to hell. Talia always wanted to have power but she also wanted someone to share it with - that came in the form of the Protector of Gotham - The Masked Savior, Batman. Talia was entranced by his power and skill, he would have been a perfect partner to rule with if he wasn't so hesitant to kill but she could sculpt him to fit her mold one way or another but first she needed to get him on her side. Her father thought of him as the perfect heir but there was no way the protector would join him, so Talia planned and that plan was to give herself and Bruce an heir - the perfect combination of the two of them. However, a wrench was thrown into that plan when inside of one - there were two.
A Son & A Daughter.
A Son that mirrored his father in young as he would in adulthood, with the exception of the emerald eyes that Talia possessed - the eyes of an Al Ghul. He was given the name Damian.
Her daughter was another story: she grew to look just as Talia did in her youth but she had her father's calm blue eyes - the eyes of a protector. The eyes of a Wayne. The eyes of a savior, not a killer - she was flawed with those eyes. She was named Bellatrix - just as her father, she would be expected to be a great warrior.
When it was time to hone their skills, it was clear that they were the perfect combination of the Al Ghul and Wayne Genes - Damian more. He was the perfect killer, merciless and quick; he wouldn't give his enemies time to speak. No, enemies were too kind of a word to describe them - they were his prey while he was the hunter. He didn't care how many he had to cut down; he would never tire until all of them were dead at his feet.
Bellatrix - on the other hand - was a different story. It was clear she had the skills, it was obvious that she had the power, but the main issue was that she wouldn't finish the job; she lacked the most important trait of the Al Ghul Bloodline - she refused to kill. Talia feared this - she was just like her father and she didn't want weakness into the pain; especially since she was the eldest of the two. She either had to fix the problem or completely remove it.
And she would much prefer the latter.
Ra's loved his grandchildren all the same - he didn't care of Bellatrix didn't kill, he was pleased enough that she was able to complete impossible tasks alone and come back unscabbed. He would praise her and he would train with her in his free time - the two of them were fond of meditation to keep themselves centered.
"Remember Granddaughter: If you are completely centered then there is nothing you can't overcome. Knowing your center is knowing your true power." - That is what Ra's would tell her during those times.
As time passed on, Talia noticed that Bellatrix gained in power and knowledge every day while her son showed just how much of an Al Ghul he was every time he went on a mission, but that didn't matter to Talia - that girl...that mistake...was a single dot in the way of her son's rightful place as Head of The League & she had to something about it.
And she did.
One night - Talia told Bellatrix to accompany her to the desert for recon and the girl agreed, thinking it was going to be a mother-daughter experience. The two of them sourced their bounds but found nothing, Bellatrix looked around the dunes to see if there was something hiding in the desert's darkness until her body made her move and she dodged just in the next of time as a blade came in close contact with her throat. She reached for her sword, only for her hand to be grabbed, and turned it to her back. She was then grabbed from other directions before being kicked in the back of her knees and came to her knees in the sand. She struggled and looked at the cloaked figures that held her until she looked at her mother.
"Mother! Help!" She begged for her mother.
"Why would I do that," Talia walked over to her bound daughter as one of the assassins handed her a sword, "When it took me so long to get you here?" Talia looked into her daughter's eyes with emptiness.
"You...You planned this? Mother, why would you do this?" Bellatrix asked.
"This is something I should have done from the start, after all - My Beloved needs an heir, not a burden. You are a stain on the Al Ghul Name, an Al Ghul that refuses to kill is not an Al Ghul; hell, you aren't even an assassin. You're a defect, a flaw, a wrench in my plan to have my beloved rule behind me as King and Queen of the League of Assassins."
Bellatrix's eyes widened at the sight of her mother raising her sword.
"And all defects must be eliminated." Talia growled as her arm thrust forward - Bellatrix's eyes widened and her jaw locked to keep herself from screaming as the blade ripped through her chest and came out on the other side.
Talia lifted her foot - the other assassins released the girl - and kicked her to the dirt and watched her groan in pain before going limp in the cold desert night.
"Dispose of the body. I have to deliver the news that the heir has been killed and watch my one true child take his rightful place." Talia didn't give her daughter's body a second glance as she turned and walked away to her jet that was waiting for her.
She should have checked her vitals.
[Timeskip - Years Later]
Years had gone by but Talia still thinks back to the night she stuck her sword through her daughter's body and left her for dead; she was so certain that was what she wanted by there was something missing and for once in her life, it had nothing to do with her Beloved Bat. She tried to put those thoughts aside for she was on a mission.
After the death of her father, she found some research on a mind-control agent that she could use to have the one she wanted most but the League was too thin and most were doing other tasks while some were rebuilding the complex, thus the Head of the Demon Clan had to deal with it on her own, which she was fine with.
However, something felt different - she wasn't sure what it was...but she knew something was going to happen tonight.
Talia did what she had to do and secured to the agent before making her way back to the roof - only to have two people walking for her.
One was a tall man with a red helmet, a brown leather jacket, a gray Bat-Armor with a Red Bat Insignia on the chest; Talia could see the pistols and ammo belts around his waist.
The second was a feminine figure: She was around the same height as Damian, wearing Bat-Armor that looked a lot like a Ninja's outfit with a sword on her back and a dark blue Bat Insignia on her chest. Her hair was long and black but tied in a ponytail, except some hair that freely fell in her face and covered some of the ribbon eye mask around her eyes.
"I guess my beloved couldn't make it to see me?" Talia asked as she placed the agent in her pocket.
"We were the closest in the area so he sent us to what it was about - didn't think we'd find his batshit crazy baby-momma here." The Red Hood said as he folded his arms.
"Too bad, he might have convinced me to surrender but I don't have an issue with breaking children who stand in my way." Talia said.
"You never had an issue with killing them, why would you have an issue with breaking them?" The female said.
"What did you say?" Talia said as she looked at the female figure.
"You don't remember the child you killed? The blood of the Al Ghul you spilled? The child you detested because she wouldn't kill so you decided to kill her instead?" The female stepped forward and reached for her eye mask, "You don't remember my voice...Mother?" She pulled it off and Talia's eyes widened when they locked with the blue eyes of her late daughter - the one that was supposed to die. The stain in her plan.
"You lived? After all of these years, you dare come to face me again?" Talia narrowed her eyes.
"Rather cold to say to your kid who came back from the dead, Lady." He looked at Bellatrix, "Bat-Fang, you wanna deal with her while I wait on the old man?" He asked.
"You read my mind." Bellatrix stepped forward and pulled her sword out, "Arm yourself."
"I guess some stains are harder to wash out." Talia said as she pulled her sword out, "I'll make sure you don't come back."
Emerald and Sapphire locked with each other before the thunderclap of the coming storm sent them both into attack mode. Their blades clashed against each other as the two women danced in a deadly dance, Talia was focused but at the same time confused - how was Bellatrix this focused when the anger in her eyes was so strong? Talia tried harder and used more power but that was the opening Bellatrix needed.
Talia watched as the girl grabbed the sword with her left hand before delivering a swift but devastating kick to her gut, sending her skipping like a stone against the roof as she released the grip of her sword. Talia picked herself off the ground and glared at her eldest as the girl place her own sword back in its sheath and shatter Talia's into two halves, letting the shards and sword halves fall to her feet before she charged at her mother. Talia's guard went up as the two of them locked in a brawl.
'What is going on here? She was never this fast or ruthless! What is...'
Her thoughts were cut off as Bellatrix grabbed her foot and began to swing her until Bellatrix let her go and got stuck in a window. Talia opened her eyes from the impact just in time to see the glare on her daughter's face as she came soaring and her fist connected with Talia's face, sending them both into the abandoned building. Talia groaned from the pain but more pain was added when she felt her daughter grab her by her hair and pull her to her feet.
"What do you have to say now, Talia? Am I still defective?" Bellatrix asked before she punched the Assassin Leader in the face, making her crash into a crumbling wall.
"Am I still a flaw?" Bellatrix asked as she spartan-kicked Talia through the wall and into the living room, making the woman fall on her back.
"Am I still the wrench in your perfect plan? Am I?!" Bellatrix barked as she grabbed her mother by the next and punched her in the face, making her back hit a window. Talia's version was blurry from the pain but when it came together - her eyes widened at the murderous gaze in her eyes.
"Am I still not an Al Ghul?" Bellatrix punched her in the face again - sending the woman crashing through the window again but this time, she felt on a lower roof of a building just as another thunderclap echoed through the sky and the rain began to fall. Talia grunted at the pain but opened her eyes to watch her daughter jump out the window and walk over to her; glaring down at her with blue eyes.
"How... How did you survive?" She asked.
"You should have checked my vitals before you left me to die; once you were gone, I took care of the assassins that you had hold me. I'm not proud I shed their blood but I knew if I didn't, they were going to make sure I was dead." Bellatrix answered.
"You survived... You killed... And now, you have me helpless." Talia smiled at her, "I'm so proud of you, My Baby Girl." She cooed.
"What?" Bellatrix glared with confusion.
"You are everything I want in a perfect heir: You survived my trap, you killed those who held you captive, and you reduced me - the Leader of the League of Assassins - to this pitiful state. My darling, you are perfect." Talia smiled at her daughter.
"I don't know what you are thinking but I'm nothing like you want me to be and I never will be." Bellatrix reached down and took the mind-control agent from Talia before turning and walking away.
"You can walk away now, My Sweet Child, but know that I am coming for you. I will bring you home and you will be what you were born to me - The Perfect Al Ghul Heir. Run while you can, my dear, Mother is coming for you." Talia laughed at Bellatrix as the girl jumped off the small roof, leaving the woman alone.
Talia looked up at the rain in the sky and smiled before picking herself off the ground, touching the side of her lip, and looked at the blood - her blood - that her daughter spilled.
'It was a mistake to let you go but now that you are back, I shall have you once more and we shall be a family. You can't escape your blood, Bellatrix; you're an Al Ghul...and you belong to me.'
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Awake
Bakugo x Reader (duh)
wc: 1.7k
A/n: Had a full on mental breakdown yesterday. Tried to sleep tonight. Couldn’t. Wrote this instead. I listened to Rain Clouds by The Arcadian Wolf while writing it and it’s the song that’s referenced in this. I could link it but I’m lazy and depressed so I’m not gonna *dabs sadly*. Anyway here’s a comfort Fic I guess.?
Bakugo: Hey
(2:38AM): uh…hey?
Bakugo: You up?
(2:39 AM): clearly… clearly I’m up Bakugo. Why are you?
Bakugo: Can't sleep.
(2:39 AM): oh. I’m sorry.
Bakugo: Come outside?
(2:40 AM): like outside outside?
Bakugo: What other outside would there fucking be?
(2:41 AM): don’t curse at me stupid. I meant the balcony? Or are we going for a walk or something?
Bakugo: Fine. Nevermind. Forget I asked.
…
…
…
Bakugo: Balcony.
(2:52 AM): gimme five to put on pants.
Bakugo: Ok
(2:52 AM): folk or classical?
Bakugo: Ugh neither.
(2:53 AM): neither wasn’t an option shit head. Pick one.
Bakugo: Whatever you played last time. It helped me feel far away.
(2:54AM): Folk it is.
You put your phone down, the light dying and drawing you back into the darkness of your room. It’s quiet, you can hear him rustling on the other side of the wall, hear the balcony door slide open in his apartment next door and then shut.
You sit in bed for a moment, your heart the only thing thrumming in your ears as you take a deep breath. The city is quiet for the first time in a long time. There are no cars on the street, no sirens, just the sleepy lazy sound of the wind blowing and alley cats slinking through the garbage filled alleyways.
Then you get up, grab a pair of sweatpants and exchange the large holey t-shirt you’re wearing for a comfy but secure cami top. You search around your room for the little Bluetooth speaker and pause when your eyes fall on your acoustic guitar. You smile to yourself, it's perfect. You’ve been thinking about the song, the chords should be easy enough to grasp, and the words have been drifting around your head for days now.
You grab your phone to send him another quick text.
(2:58AM): Change of plans. The roof.
He doesn’t hesitate.
Bakugo: Ok.
He’s up on the roof of your city apartment building before you are, gazing out at the city lights , the moon in the sky blazing white shimmering light through his ash blond locks. He doesn’t turn around or acknowledge your presence when you land delicately on your toes and deactivate your air quirk. He’s wearing a red tank top, must’ve had to change out of the usual black one he wears to bed from all the sweat. His shoulders look broad and you can see the scars rippling down the muscles of his arms.
“Took you long enough, even with your floaty little air quirk,” he taunts, back still to you.
“And yet you’re still here,” you quip back, rolling your eyes and grabbing a crate to sit on. You pull another over and plop it down across from you the same time he turns to join you on the other crate. He has dark circles under his eyes, there’s still a gleam of sweat shimmering on his jaw and neck. He watches in anticipation as you ready the guitar on your leg and hook your arm over it, expert fingers finding the correct chords to strum a lovely tune.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks, gesturing to the guitar. You smile down at the guitar, concentrating on the correct note in your mind to start the song.
“It’s a nice night,” you murmur, eyes still focused on the instrument on your lap.
The muttered “It is now,” is swallowed by the sound of you strumming the strings softly diving into the tune as you rock back and forth. You close your eyes and hear Bakugo take a deep calming breath in and out before you start singing the lyrics.
I'm being frightened by the people
They look at me like I'm a scar upon their perfect skin
Perfect to only them
I'm being shadowed by my past
Reminding me of what I was and what I could become
My sins should stay where they belong
The wind is blowing gently and you can smell Bakugo’s sweet scent on the breeze. His crisp pine scented body wash mixes with his smoky sweet scent and it almost feels like the two of you are sitting around a campfire. Your voice drifts dreamily over the lyrics, enunciating the words and basking in the ease of the notes while putting your own lovely spin on it.
Listen to my voice
Close your frightened eyes
Hide behind my love for you
Fear's only a choice
One that we all must make some day
So know you're not alone in this
It’s clear and strong like a bell, punctuating every phrase with meaning that sits in Bakugo’s core and makes his heart do that weird thing where it’s fluttering but also extremely tranquil at the same time. When you end the song and finally open your eyes, he’s looking at you incredulously.
“How do you do that?”
“Hmm?” you say, placing the guitar against a huge wooden pallet gently.
“How do you fucking do that? Every time. It’s fucking creepy.”
“You mind elaborating, dummy? I’m not a mind reader.”
“Coulda fooled me,” he grunts, rolls his eyes and folds his arms, pouting.
You roll your eyes before chuckling and answer the question you already know he’s asking. “Somewhere out there. Someone has made a song for every feeling you’ve ever felt. So I won’t take credit for that.”
“But you show them to me.”
“Yes,” you say this as if it’s an obvious statement.
“And play them for me.”
“Yes.” Again, another obvious statement. Why wouldn’t you play them for him. It’s why the two of you are here. Right?
“And make them….ya know… sound good and shit,” he says, stuttering over the words as his cheeks and ears start to turn pink.
You smirk, “You can say I sound pretty. I won’t tell anyone you said it,” you tease.
“Tch. Idiot.”
There’s a beat of silence, you’re lost in your thoughts staring up at the starry sky before you look at him again.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You’re going to even if I say no.”
“Correct. Why do you text me when it happens? Why me?”
He shrugs his shoulders, looks away sheepishly and doesn’t meet your questioning gaze. "Don't know.”
You raise a suspicious eyebrow, “Yes you do”
He sighs, holds out a hand to gesture as if it’s obvious. Why would you be asking this? Especially after the many nights the two of you have done this. “Just feels right I guess. And after we talk I can go back to sleep just fine.”
“You realize what that is right?” You lean in closer to him, elbows on your thighs, chin in your hands. “That’s called trusting someone.”
“Sure I guess.”
Another beat of silence and then a long winded sigh from you, one that definitely says “I’m tired of this” and it makes a shiver of fear run up his spine.
“Look Bakugo. I’m not usually one that skates around feelings. And as much as I enjoy late night jam sessions or sneaking out and gazing at the moon with you until you feel ok enough to sleep, I…”
He holds his breath, “What?”
“Hmm…” you have a finger up to your chin in the universal thinking pose.
His heartbeat picks up and his fingers start to fiddle in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Fucking what? You just said you don’t skate around feelings so what?”
You frown at him, “Hold your flippin’ horses I’m thinkin’ first.”
“‘Flippin’ horses?’ You’re such a weirdo.”
And now you’re glaring. "Speaking of thinking before speaking. You should try it.”
“Fuck you.” There’s no hostility to it and he knows you know it.
“Very original. ANYWAY, I was going to say despite your constant attitude and constant shouting, I still really like hanging out with you. So I’d like to not only hang out at…”you pull your phone from your pocket and gaze at the tiny blue screen, “4 AM”
Another pause as he processes his elation. He’s happy you’re not telling him this is the last time. But this isn’t the hard part. “Ok.”
You squint suspiciously. “I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“Then say it aloud to me,” you challenge.
This is the hard part.
He takes a few deep breaths and then… “I don’t wanna be just friends with you. I don’t know what any of that shit even means. All the stupid lovey dovey shit Raccoon Ey-”
“Ashido.”
It’s his turn to glare. “Fine, Ashido talks about all the time. All I know is no one talks to me the way you do. And I always feel calm around you. Calmer than usual. I always wanna hang out more with the idiots when you’re around to hang out with them too.”
You smile but hide it behind your fingertips. He doesn’t look finished so you nod to encourage him to finish.
“And I don't know what it is. But whenever I wake up from the fucking …” He doesn’t say the word “nightmare”. He struggles with it like if he says it he’s surrendering to weakness or something. “Whenever I wake up the only thing I think of is you. Wishing you were there, like a fucking idiot. But it never goes away, not until I text you and I see you and I hear your voice.” His head is in his hands, like he’s ashamed to admit this to you.
It’s quiet again, some cars from below have started bustling on the street. The morning wind carries his scent and the city's waking smells of coffee and fresh baked bread. You stand quietly and walk over to him, head still hanging in his hands as he crouches over on the crate.
You hug him, force yourself between his legs and wrap your arms around his head. And at first he stiffens but he doesn’t pull away from you or move out of your grasp. He just sits there with his arms hanging limply at his sides,eyes wide, and your arms wrapped around his head. His ear is pressed against your chest, listening to the city waking around you. You're warm and you smell impossibly good and he knows this is what he craves when he wakes up from those terrifying nightmares. Your embrace is the cure.
“I like being here. I like being there for you.”
Then his arms move up to wrap around your waist and he hugs you back and sighs into your chest. He stays there for at least 10 minutes listening to the steady beating of your heart.
And then he quietly mutters, “Thanks.”
--
#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#marquie writes#yea it’s unedited#I just told y’all I was depressed#sheesh#idk what I’m doing anymore#I’m numb and empty 🙃
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five years too late let’s analyze this. the commentary has gotten me back into gravity falls reigniting thoughts and insights i came to years ago
i love everything about this commentary in general it hits the points of humor, genuine analysis of the characters, but most of all im so glad hirsch addressed that the droid not detecting any fear from dipper here doesnt make any scientific sense because that was a massive CinemaSins moment for me
IDK the fact that dipper can fucking stand after an airship crash because theres a bigger threat at hand is literally one of the defining capabilities owed to adrenaline lol...... IM SORRY im a biopsychology student if i dont point that out iwill seethe and die because that was just . its a grudge ive held for a long time about this episode but didnt rant about because it was something so minor and i’m sure nobody would care.
i was 13 when this episode came out and i’m almost 19 now, i had a special interest in biology and i still do but now i’m actually having college classes in biopsychology so i can give my arguments more oomph now. and i have to say, now that i know more about the brain and autonomic nervous system the more this scene bugs me, if that was even possible. and it says a lot of dipper and ford’s relationship.
if dipper clearly wasnt calm before, why would he be now just because he’s put up an outwardly confident facade? before he was in the flight but now hes in the fight. my boy just rode on top of a spaceship by nothing but a magnet gun that could detach at any time if it failed and then the ship crashed, he sustained injuries, is in emotional turmoil because he thinks his uncle is Fucking Dead and the threat of a security droid that detects adrenaline is on his tail and produces a Big Fucking Gun in response to dipper saying “i hAvE a MaGNeT gUn” and hes screaming and has his teeth clenched but sure there’s no adrenaline coursing through his body in that moment i can totally believe that
when dipper asks what happened, ford says “the orb didn’t detect any chemical signs of fear, it assumed the threat was neutralized and self-disassembled” but i don’t think measuring someone’s heartbeat alone is particularly relevant in detecting ... chemical signs of fear?? they dont really tell you this shit but noradrenaline (and maybe adrenaline too if the acetylcholine from sympathetic outflow always activates the adrenal medulla??, theres two pathways) is always active in small quantities to make sure your parasympathetic nervous system doesnt slow your heart to dangerous levels on its own, regardless of your emotions. it’s just a homeostatic mechanism. your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems are CONSTANTLY modulating control of your organs on a see-saw, literally with every breath you take. simply standing upright causes specialized mechanoreceptor neurons in blood vessels to signal your brain to project signals to release catecholamines via the sympathetic nervous system to constrict your blood vessels so that blood is able to reach your brain and not pool in your legs. i have a deficiency in my body’s ability to adapt to this which is why i know so much about it. if i stand up my heart races to compensate. i’m not feeling fear, my body is just adjusting—albeit grossly and incompetently lol.
but what im saying here is that the security system is flawed. it’s a cool idea to have security droids detect fear, but in practice by detecting adrenaline, and not even directly by detecting the molecule itself—it’s done in a roundabout way by reading the heartbeat, could be a recipe for false alarms. like what if someone’s on beta-blockers. that’s not really an adequate way to measure “fear”; there’s so many variables that could interfere with the measurement the farther you abstract from what you’re really trying to detect. and besides, adrenaline is NOT just a sign of fear, it’s just for preparing the body for action. i know the sympathetic nervous system and adrenaline is constantly linked with the “fight-or-flight” reaponse to a stressor, but 99.9% of the time the sympathetic nervous system is used in your life is to balance out your parasympathetic nervous system to maintain homeostatic equilibrium for mundane things.
i think detecting amygdalar activation would be more efficient in detecting fear. the amygdala sends projections to the hypothalamus which then in turn modulates the autonomic nervous systems. but the amygdala is intensely activated specifically in response to a fear-inducing stimulus (it does activate in response to other emotions but they’re mostly negative and is most activated by startle and fear), and wouldnt be highly activated by many other confounding variables like measurement of the heartbeat could be. the amygala is one of the first stops directly from external stimuli.
to show you how integrated the amygdala is as the first step in registering fear after receiving input from sensory stimuli let’s look at the auditory-amygdala connection for example
see how the auditory thalamus projects to the primary auditory cortex and auditory association cortex? the cortex is where conscious awareness of what the stimuli is comes from. this is the “high road”. it goes sensing -> perception -> emotional response. but sometimes you can be startled without even processing what it is you’re sensing, like the startle response of an alarm or a phone ringing in a quiet house before you even register what it is. this goes sensing -> emotional response, without perception happening until after you’ve already felt the startle. that’s when it takes the “low road”. here’s a simplified version:
even if that were the case with these droids though it’s obvious dipper is still fearful on some level here. his body language, voice, expressions all give it away. for the amygdala, aggression isnt too off from fear so it would be detected equally.
the reason this is so important is because ford uses this as evidence for why dipper is special, “i did it?” “you did it. this is what i was talking about, how many 12 year olds do you think are capable of doing what you’ve just done?”
but like....did he really? i’m not saying this to shoot dipper down or make him out to be more of a wuss, he was incredibly strong-willed here and i dont want to take that away from him because it WAS growth on his part. but the underlying psychophysiological reactions of aggression and fear shouldn’t be that different and this was a total asspull. maybe the droid was so old that it fucked up. maybe dipper being covered in grime and dirt made it harder for the droid to measure the correct heart rate through photoplethysmography (im assuming since they use a camera and are non-contact).
and in all honesty everything i just said brings into question the interpersonal healthiness of ford’s judgements, what he thinks, his expectations, and how he communicates that. in this video alex already talks about how ford is projecting onto dipper. and i think ford may be projecting his expectations for himself onto people who are not him, and the fact that it’s on dipper here makes it far more unfortunate. you realize how much this boy idolizes ford, right? how much impressions matter? dipper even tells himself before he leaves in this same episode, “all right dipper, this is your first big mission with great uncle ford. don’t mess this up.”
even though it’s unstated, the implicit message dipper is perceiving from ford based on their dynamic is: “do you have what it takes for me to be proud of you?” and to accomplish this he must be like ford, even though he’s clearly not and he knows this. he says “i don’t think have what it takes. i was tricked by bill, i was wrong about stan’s portal, heck, i can’t even operate this magnet gun right.” then, by simple chance without even knowing what he did, he activates the magnet gun and pulls out the adhesive, which immediately takes the focus away from what dipper was telling ford about his feelings of inadequacy to ford saying, “yes! dipper, you found the adhesive!”
these thoughts of dipper’s hang in the air without resolve or comment from ford. we don’t know what ford would have said. but it then becomes painfully self-evident in the scene immediately after when the droids emerge and ford tells dipper, “they’re security droids and they detect adrenaline. you simply have to not feel any fear and they won’t see you”, to which dipper replies with an exasperated (and rightful) “WHAT?”
dipper goes in a panic trying to indirectly tell his uncle that this isn’t something he can do. and he is completely right and valid to be freaked out by that full stop. that IS crazy. you can’t control your fear. you can control how you interpret that fear in your higher brain regions but the physiological changes will stick around for longer than it takes to cognitively calm down. it’s easy for me to detach from my emotions to analyze them, but being able to do this does not come naturally for everyone. even i have an irrational fear of wasps and i can’t control it by detaching myself, my body is just automatically primed to get the fuck out of there. i know it’s stupid and i know it’s irrational and isn’t helpful to get myself worked up but i literally can’t stop how my body reacts no matter how i cognitively think about it. expecting composure from dipper in a situation like this when he’s being made to consciously be aware of his anxiety is absolutely fucking insane. look what you did, placing these cruel expectations on him, now he’s afraid of being afraid! this isn’t a case where two wrongs cancel out, they just stack on top of each other.
youtube
there’s a good reason these scenes were put side by side but it seems up until now it had remained unanalyzed.
what dipper fears from ford is disappointment. not living up to his uncle’s (quite frankly badly placed) expectations for a twelve year old with anxiety. not once did ford say or subliminally communicate “i don’t expect you to be able to do what i can since you are not as experienced as i am and that’s perfectly okay, no judgements”. you don’t put a child on bike before training wheels. you don’t throw a kid into a swimming pool without giving them swimming lessons. the way ford is doing it, there’s no room for trial and error or mistakes that are an opportunity to grow and learn; instead, it’s life or death. he only seems to pride dipper on what he can do while ignoring the underlying struggles that plague him and never making it known it’s okay for dipper to fail in front of his hero and that he won’t think anything less of him for it.
and that’s why i found the ending scene for dipper and ford’s adventure in this episode to feel so.. wrong. on a scientific and social level. because by the sound of it ford focused more on what dipper had done to dismantle the droid (the droid not detecting any fear) instead of how dipper displayed love and protection for him even if he was truly afraid. what if the science was accurate and the droid detected adrenaline while dipper was confidently standing up for his uncle. would ford still be proud of him regardless?
#can you tell how i’m similar to ford but also so different like i said in that other post lol#gravity falls#analysis#dipper pines#stanford pines#long post#gf#gravity falls meta
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haechan: the cocky | vol 1
━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)
☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!
☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: oral, voyeurism, explicit language ☆ WC: 2,659 ☆ SYNOPSIS: on this sunny afternoon, you’re home alone while everyone else is in class... or so you thought. as haechan’s name spills from your lustful mouth, he mindlessly comes in thinking that you’re calling for him. instead, he walks in to see you fingers deep and in need of some assistance, again.
☆ AUTHORS NOTE: happy halloween everyone!! pls read the background info before proceeding with the fic!! absolutely pwp, there is no real plot here besides smut LOL and yes there will be a part two ! maybe multiple parts idk yet lol depends on my story building
Tossing your backpack into the corner of your room, you pounce on your bed as quickly as possible. There was something about Haechan’s outfit choice today: baggy relaxed pants and an oversized plain white tshirt that only he could pull off. Something about his cool, carefree attitude riles up an inexplicable part of you. And though you didn’t have much time to drool over his incredibly impressive outfit before dashing for your 10 AM, it is all that’s been running through your head.
And truthfully if you had been caught staring for even a millisecond, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him. You’ve seen this guy go two days straight sitting in his boxers and wrinkled old tee as he yells profanities at his computer monitor. Yet, in some egotistical world, Haechan still manages to be the cockiest person in the whole house.
Haechan has pulled quite a fair share of girls, but nothing in comparison to Jaehyun or Johnny. The reason behind his sly smirks and obvious traveling eyes could possibly be that he’s pulled you, quite a number of times.
Haechan never really peaked your interest until he became the one you spent the most time alone with. He is not the type to boast about his sexual encounters, so you really had to squeeze it out of him. Long talks of his cunnilingus tactics had you wet by the end of it all, not expecting that this gamer boy had such an eager passion for seeing girls squirm from his tongue.
Eager and strong enough passion to ask if he could get a taste of you, then proceeded to bring up all the moments that he has passed by your room to see you sprawled across your bed naked and rubbing one out. You had a poor habit of not closing your door all the way.
However strangely enough, you didn’t feel embarrassed that Haechan was the one who saw you. In fact, if anyone in the house did catch you masturbating, you’d hope it was him. Your relationship is comfortable to the point of seeing the worst sides of each other, you could be your true self around him because he wasn’t some playboy to impress. He is and always will be, Lee Haechan, the boy that sucks at arm wrestling.
So as you check your housemates’ locations and thinking that the coast is clear, you begin to peel off your bottoms and panties. Every naughty thought of Haechan rolls into your lustful mind. Tugging at his fluffy hair. His plushy tongue against your clit. His light spanks against your ass. His needy hands gripping your thighs. His low throaty moans.
You get into your favorite position --- ass up, on your knees and legs spread open, with your face buried in a pillow. Your hand tries to mimic his touch: gently teasing your nipples, trailing down your stomach until you reach your sensitive bud. Your fingers gather your slick and automatically, Haechan’s name escapes your lips. Closing your eyes, you recall all the times he’s eaten you out until you’ve seen stars.
Now if Haechan wasn’t so forgetful, he wouldn’t have to drive all the way back home to grab his notebook for lecture. When the boy enters the house, he takes note of your scattered shoes at the door and the faint sound of your voice. Curiously, he walks up the stairs to the rooms and hears you calling for him and concludes that you probably heard him come home.
When he approaches your slightly opened door, he sees an image that immediately halts him in his tracks. Through the rather large slit, he has the clearest view of your dripping pussy and quick fingers rubbing at your clit. And he registers your calls for moans. You were moaning his name, not calling for him.
He glances around at the other open rooms to check if anyone else is home, but that is probably why you thought it would be completely fine to not close your door, again. When he returns to the incredibly sexy scene of you masturbating to the thought of him, you’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t even hear his heavy breathing.
A tent forms in his pants as he feels all his blood rushing to his shaft. He’s beyond turned on, like come on, it’s him you’re thinking about. This does nothing, but fuel his already large ego. Haechan enters your room and clears his throat, “you should really learn to close your door, baby.”
Your momentum breaks at the sheer fear of someone else’s voice. Panic settles and the first thing you see when you look up is Haechan’s small smirk. He leans against the frame of your door, arms crossed and eyes never leaving your figure.
“Why are you home?!” You throw a pillow at him, very well annoyed at his presence and for ruining your private time. Sitting up on your knees, you try covering your lower half with your blanket. Haechan is quick to stop you, while simultaneously shutting your bedroom door.
“I forgot my notebook.” He leans in, lips inches away from yours and his hand pulling the sheets off your body. “I have twenty minutes to spare, so let’s make this quick, mmh? Seems like you’re in need of my assistance... again.” His eyes are dark, and the sunlight that seeps through your shades shines so beautifully against his melanin. The faint smell of his cologne messes with your mind and god, you want him so bad and you hate that he can tell.
“Get back into your previous position and show me how you touch yourself.” He leaves a quick peck on the corners of your lips before standing at the end of your bed.
“What if I don’t want to?” You’re not usually bratty with other partners, but Haechan’s assertiveness and overall aura draws it out of you so naturally.
He pokes his tongue at the inside of his mouth, protruding his cheek and tilts his head at your bratty attitude. Staring you down with hungry eyes and a raised eyebrow, he says in a serious tone, “no time for games right now. You want me or not?”
“Yes, please.” You nod with urgency once you realize that Haechan still had class to get to. Turning back around, you rest comfortably on your elbows with your knees firm on the mattress. Your hand travels down to circle your clit again, resuming your previous lustful actions before Haechan interrupted you.
Every jolt runs down your legs as a pumping surge of electricity, all the way down to your toes. Haechan palms himself watching you get back into the mood, biting his bottom lip at the delicious sight of your glistening, pretty pussy on display for him. It doesn’t take much before he hurries to get under you and in between your legs.
He lays back flat on the bed as you hover over him, your hand still rubbing intensively at your bud and your juices collecting in your palm. Taking your wrist, he guides your wet fingers into his mouth. You moan knowing your fingers are being cleaned by Haechan, him sucking your taste off of you.
“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groans, bringing your hips closer to his face. Without another second of hesitation, he licks a long strip across your clit.
“Hyuck..” It has been established between the two of you that you have special rights to use his government name. He loves how hot it sounds coming from you, like it is meant to be spoken only by you. “..I’m.. already.. going to burst.”
He kisses your inner thighs, then encapsulates your bud in his mouth. Your legs give out at the mind blowing pleasure that comes with Haechan’s plushy licks. His tongue doesn’t leave your clit for more than a second, suckling and rubbing it like his life depended on it.
When you peer down at him, his face is entirely pressed up against your body: nose digging into your skin and mouth latching on for a taste. He gives your ass a little spank, then grabbing a handful to squeeze. The tinge of pain turns into pleasure as the feeling of static runs throughout your lower half.
Haechan tries to free himself from his pants, growing painfully hard that it began to feel strained. One hand unzips and tugs down hastily at his bottoms, his cock springing up and slapping against his stomach. He lifts his shirt up as far as it can go, not once breaking his attention on making you feel good.
You yelp when his two fingers enter your hole abruptly, gathering enough of your slick to cover his own dick. With your wetness, he strokes his tip with his thumb and the vibrations from his moans sends shivers down your spine. But Haechan is more than skilled at multitasking, jerking himself off while he eats you out.
“Fuck, are you touching yourself?” Your head turns enough to see movement in your peripheral vision. You can infer two things: Haechan is half naked and fucking his hand so fast that it shakes the bed a bit.
“Of course I am. You’re fucking hot, baby.” He only pulls away briefly to speak, his soft tongue flicking rapidly harder against you now. Haechan knows you’re close, without you needing to say much. Your toes curl at the intensity, your moans become louder, and you’re gripping onto his hair as tightly as possible.
The peak of your mountain is at the tip of your lips, your legs are about to give out at any moment, but Haechan is showing no mercy to slow down. “Just like that, shit.” Your hips mindlessly grind with his fast-paced rhythm.
Haechan can feel his own release coming just as quick, his own grip growing tighter around his shaft as his hips have no caution to stop. “Give it to me, (Y/N).” His low grunts solely push you to your edge, as you announce your orgasm.
Your shaking legs uncontrollably twitch around his head as the euphoric feeling fills your blood stream. Like a knot coming undone, it’s the most rewarding feeling you’ve ever felt. You try to catch your breath as Haechan unlatches from your swollen clit, and his moans replace yours.
“(Y/N),” He barely manages to speak and you look down in between your legs to see him biting his bottom lip hard and eyes closed. “--I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk... when I get back..” and with that, he cums all over his lower stomach, short strings of white landing across his body.
You roll off of him, grabbing tissues from your nightstand to clean him up. “Are you still going to make it?” A hoarse laugh rumbles your chest as Haechan remembers the lecture he has to attend.
“I’ll just show up late.” Wiping the last bit off of him, he gets up to hurriedly zip himself up. “Why are you suddenly so needy?” He jokes, partially. A smug grin appears reminding you of his haughty personality.
You scoff at his remark, “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“Yeah, but why do that when I clearly give you the best orgasms of your life.” He shrugs, his tone being quite matter of fact. He chuckles mischievously at your displeased expression, running out your room before you can chase him out.
“Okay, I’m leaving!” He yells from the hall, hurrying down the stairs to catch the last half of his lecture.
“Bye, thank you... I guess..” You pull your panties up, your voice trailing off when you step out of your room to the top of the stairs to watch him leave.
He stops to peer up at your obvious fucked out appearance, admiring you all in your glory. “Any time, baby. What are housemates for?” Haechan winks flirtatiously before he shuts the front door.
The rhetorical question repeats in your head, what are housemates for?
As everyone floods back home later in the day, you and Haechan act as if nothing happened. That’s the thing about you two, Haechan never really feels the need to brag to the others, only if provoked.
You two can live in this house with the other three not expecting a single thing, not knowing that there is courage behind Haechan’s bold statements. Not even the way Haechan stares at you sometimes can give anything away. This man is too slick, too quick on his feet to ever be caught.
“You make it to all your classes today, Haechan?” Johnny asks as the three of you devour the dinner Doyoung made, Jaemin once again not being home.
“Yes, dad.” Haechan answers sarcastically and stuffs his mouth full of dinner rolls. “I had a midterm that I totally aced.” He smiles proudly, but your ears catch onto the first half of his sentence and immediate guilt settles.
“You had a midterm?” The tone of your question raises a few eyebrows at the table, the rest of the boys wondering why you sounded so worried.
Nevertheless, Haechan doesn’t lose his cool. He simply bids you his sugary sweet smile and says, “not for that one.”
“No flirty eyes at the table.” Doyoung scowls as Haechan’s corner lip twitches into another infamous smirk. He somewhat enjoys the thrill of almost getting caught, you make it all too easy for the others to find out.
You gulp your food harshly and shy away from Haechan’s dark gaze, not knowing the right words to recover your slip up. Jaehyun acknowledges the confusion in the room, laughing nervously at your sudden bashfulness, “why did (Y/N) sound so worried?”
Your food gets stuck in your throat, waiting to hear what Haechan has to say to your nosy housemates. “I had to come home to grab my notebook and missed the beginning of class. She’s just looking out for me, it’s cute.”
And your eyes make the most dramatic roll, “I should’ve just let you to suffer the consequences.”
“But you’re a good girl.” Haechan barely lets you finish, his sharp-witted tongue almost cutting you off.
“(Y/N) is the best girl.” Johnny ruffles your hair and picks up your chin, being oblivious to the sexual tension between you and Haechan. “Now, did my best girl go to all her classes today?”
You push his large hand off of you, grumbling lowly, “yes, Johnny.” Mindful to not say dad as it would steer him with too much satisfaction, “unlike you delinquents, I actually go to class and stay for the whole thing.”
“I do too.” Doyoung bickers.
In response, you pinch his cheek harshly. “I know and I’m always proud of you, my bunny.”
Haechan clears his throat obnoxiously, “I’m going to play games, hop on when you all are done.” He takes a few more dinner rolls as he starts heading up the stairs with his plate of food.
“Can’t, I have someone coming over in a few.” Jaehyun stuffs his cheeks full of deliciousness.
“Me too.” Johnny chimes and you’re repulsed that more than half of the house is going to be having sex at the same time.
“In that case, that is my cue to leave and put on noise canceling headphones.” Doyoung gathers his plate to rush out of the scene.
Jaehyun and Johnny finish their dinners at an impressive speed, “don’t be too loud, Haechan!” Johnny loudly proclaims and though you can’t see Haechan’s face, you can imagine his devilish smile through the cadence of his voice.
“Oh, trust me. I won’t be the loud one tonight.” Your phone lights up from incoming texts. As your eyes register the messages, you almost choke on your food at the implications.
housemate haechan: come to my room when you’re done
housemate haechan: and don’t expect to walk tomorrow:)
And you’re finishing your dinner as fast as everyone else is, shamefully excited to make your way upstairs.
What are housemates for?
#neowritingsnet#nct-writers#kpopscape#neothestars#nct scenarios#nct smut#haechan#lee haechan#haechan smut#nct imagines
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