#i have a fully developed brain now i should be able to enjoy it in a normal way

[victor-v]

no listen. i can't go down into a tfc spiral again. i have to consume tsc in an enthusiastic but controlled way. i have to restrain my brain.

[nightfurylover31]

I’ve seen a few recent posts about Amy’s character recently. Saying “she’s not allowed to chase Sonic is bad” or “they took her perkiness,” etc. Now, if you guys think how she’s being written is bad, then you guys should see Amy in the Fleetway comics. I read them, and much as I enjoyed her, there is very little “Amy about her.

While Amy did start off as the lovestruck girl, she would go through a lot of changes. Even though she was the newest member of the Freedom Fighters, yes Fleetway used the same name, she quickly rose to being the brains, as well as second-in-command. Whenever Sonic got pulled away on solo missions or incapacitated, which happened a lot, Amy was the one who took the lead. I do like how this Amy uses a crossbow instead of a hammer, this was before Sonic the Fighters.

And if people think Amy in IDW is bland, boy do they need a double check! While Amy did seem to have feelings for Sonic in the beginning, it would eventually dwindle completely out of existence. Nigel Kitching would later go on to say that crush might have been just to annoy Sonic. And while a lot of the characters have their own flaws, Amy pretty much has none. She’s always right, comes up with the winning strategies, sharp-witted, and hardly ever loses her cool. And all the cheerfulness and compassion Amy is usually known for is not there. Let me put it another way. You know how Amy was able to talk down Gamma and Shadow? This Amy would more than likely just shoot them with her crossbow.

I really, REALLY hate to say this, but Fleetway Amy is the one that really comes off as a Sally knock off. I like both characters, and it feels insulting to both of them to say that, but it’s true. Especially with how Deborah Tate and Lew Stringer took over for writing. Tate wanted a more level headed version for girls, but this took away anything lot that could lead to character development. Heck, even Amy’s backstory was changed. Even though she was easily captured in her first appearance, in issue #127, the origins of her pink coloring, she took down a base all by herself. This happened before she met Sonic.

While I agree Amy has been very toned down from what she was in the 2000s, some of her old habits are still there. She hugs Sonic, she gets lovestruck eyes, and throws out the occasional flirt. And she still has her moments of comfort and encouragement. Like reassuring Jewel during the forest fire, She also didn’t fully trust Surge and Kit, but still wanted to give them a chance to change. Amy can even lose her temper at times, she just doesn’t direct to towards her friends.

As for her leading, she was operations commander in Sonic Forces, and she has led her own teams in various other games. But leading an entire organization, one where Knuckles was no longer co-leader, that was too much. And we didn’t have an extended enough cast established yet for someone else to take over. If you look deeper into Amy’s character of how she is portrayed now, you still see some of her old self.

[flyiingsly]

Smoke Screen

Square : Fire

Pairing : Wolffe x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : Hurt/confort, fire (a lot), angst, mention of burns and injuries, medical equipment, unconsciousness, mention of death, slight mention of alcool, Wolffe deserves a hug (and reader too)

Wordcount : 5,8k

Summary : Your battalion is sent as reinforcements to the 104th in anticipation of a potential separatist attack, but things turn out worse than expected, leading you to risk your own life to save your beloved Commander from a terrible fate.

A/N : My fourteenth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! I reaaally got carried away with this one, I was so hooked while writing this, it felt like I was living the whole situation for real, that was such a thrilling feeling and so much fun ! I love our favorite grumpy Commander so much, I just wanted to give him a bit of hurt/comfort, because I think that he really deserves to be protected and comforted, enjoy ❤

Fire.

Fire was the most frightening element in your opinion, the one you had always dreaded the most.

Even if it was a situation you were often facing during missions, you couldn’t help but feel that kind of crippling terror washing over your brain every time you found yourself surrounded by flames.

It only meant destruction and suffering to you, and no matter how much training and conditioning you’ve been through to control it better already, it was still here, in a little corner of your mind.

You were a jedi, you weren’t supposed to experience fear, but this one, you never thought that one day you’ll be able to fully overcome it.

But that was until you burst into that collapsing building, shielded by the force, trying to find your Commander, and hoping that he had survived the outpost’s attack.

***

It all started when you arrived with Obi-Wan and the 212th on a little Outer Rim’s planet on which you’ve never been before, to give support and reinforcement to General Plo Koon. He needed more men on his current mission, and of course, you volunteered immediately. Master Plo was a dear friend of yours, and you were worried for him and his men.

You came to know the 104th very well, either by fighting along them, but also by all the time you were spending with the clones of the 212th, for between missions, the different battalions often shared their free time together.

You, in general, had developed a very close bond with the clones, so you were immediately adopted by the 104th as well. But there’s one particular person with who you happened to came along even better.

Commander Wolffe was a bit distant at first. He seemed like he always had a hard time trusting new people by what Rex and Cody told you. But if you had the perseverance to get to know him and to pass through the rude first impression he was giving, he could become one of the most trustworthy and kind person you’ve ever known.

What a chance, you were patient, and what you didn’t know at that time was that he got an eye on you since the first time he met you.

It was right after Plo Koon’s ship was attacked by General Grievous and his Malevolence.  You and Ahsoka insisted to go in search for Master Plo and what was left of his men, and despite the disapproval of Obi-Wan and Master Windu, Anakin and the two of you still decided to give it a try.

The unauthorized mission was a success, you arrived just in time to save them, and Wolffe was very moved by that first encounter. You were intriguing, you were kind and caring toward the clones like not so many other natborns were. You were gifted with healing abilities, and seeing you take care of his wounded men made him feel something he wasn’t used to truly experience. Safety.

You were in the middle of the space, somewhere none of you were supposed to be, chased by the most deadliest general of the Separatist army, his ship had been destroyed, he lost most of his men, he just nearly died and still wasn’t sure if he was going to survive that mission …. He should have felt doomed and frightened right now, but instead, he couldn’t help but feel safe with you on board, watching over him and his fellow troopers.

He stayed far from you for the next few times you two met again. He just looked at you from a distance, trying to hide his interest and fascination toward you the best he could. He knew very well he couldn’t afford himself the luxury of getting too attached to someone, especially to a jedi, for it will never be reciprocate anyway.

But one night, as you were with members of the 501st, 212th and 104th at the 79’, Rex and Cody became frustrated to see him burn to talk to you and never even try to do it. Of course you had tried to start a conversation with him a couple times already, and he always seemed to use his best energy to stay cold with you. You knew it was going to take time for him to open up to you, and so you were determined to give him as much as he’ll need.

Except that they weren’t hearing it that way.

It took Wolffe a bunch of drinks and a monstrous amount of courage, but pushed by his two brothers, he eventually gathered himself to go talk to you. It was a very funny moment, for when he came in front of you, you looked at him with a surprised look at first, before a wide smile appeared on your face, a smile that was screaming “finally”.

His heart melted, his cheeks started to blush badly and he found himself unable to say anything for a whole minute straight.

And that’s how it began between the two of you. As he was expecting it, he grew very fond of you, and you quickly became really close, never missing an occasion to spend some time together. You weren’t sharing that much missions or battlefields, for you were mostly assigned to the 212th, but you were always keeping in touch, no matter how far from each other you were sent.

But as the time passed by, something more than just friendship started to grow inside of him. It was something scary at first, because it was the very thing he was afraid of and wanted to avoid in the first place, and maybe the worse that could happen to someone in time of war.

He eventually ended up accepting it after realizing that he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. It never changed anything between you nonetheless, for he was doing his best to not let his new feelings ruin your already existent relationship, keeping it all for himself, hiding it at the bottom of his heart and promising to never tell you anything about it.

You were now way too important to him for that, and he knew that he could never handle to lose you or break that special bond. It was easier that way he thought, and the only thing that really mattered to him in the end was your safety. As long as you were safe and alive, it was enough for him.

But little did he know the he wasn’t the only one to feel the same.

***

The planet you were headed to was a highly valuable ally for the Republic, for it was hosting in its ground the biggest stock of a very rare and expensive kind of metal in the whole galaxy. That component was needed for the fabrication of a vast range of weapon’s and ship’s parts, and at the beginning of the war, its government managed to sign a contract with the Chancellor, allowing the GAR to be the one and only entity to use those resources, much to the disapproval of the separatists, of course.

In exchange, the Senate agreed to provide protection to the planet and its inhabitants against whatever would want to attack them, which was the reason why you were send here. The Senate Intelligence had reported that an attack from the separatist to steal its resources was planned a few days ahead, and that the troops already on place would never be enough to block it, so they urgently needed reinforcements.

But after a week, there was still no sign of any kind of attack. Nothing coming from the sky, no signs of spies amongst the population, not a single droid spotted anywhere. It was strange, for the source was a very trusted one and was usually always giving correct information, but both the Senate and the Order were starting to think about sending the reinforcements back to Coruscant. Maybe it really was just a false alarm after all.

Something was off about this whole situation, and you weren’t the only one thinking it. Both Master Plo and Obi-Wan were trying to convince the Senate to let your battalion stay longer, just to make sure that everything was really alright. Something felt wrong here, you could feel it, but without really explaining why, like if something was happening right under your nose, in the shadows.

One particular place on this planet was giving you a disturbing feeling : an old abandoned mine on the outskirt of the capital city. It was once one of the biggest of the area, and that was why the city had been built near. It wasn’t used anymore, because the deposit had been drained long ago, and the whole mining structures and tunnels had become unstable and dangerous, so its access was now completely forbidden.

You knew you needed to go investigate that mine, even Master Plo was starting to agree with you on that. Nobody had thought about it before because it was supposed to be abandoned, and most importantly, it wasn’t seen as a menace, since the attack was mostly awaited from the sky. So after successful negotiations with the Senate to get a couple more day on site, you and Obi-Wan decided to go visit it and see what you could find there.

And of course, your instinct was right all along.

It didn’t take you long to find some traces of recent mining activities and to bump into a bunch of mining droids busy extracting the few remaining metal from the walls of its many caves. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing at first. You had absolutely no idea how and since when the separatists have been secretly exploiting that place, and most importantly, how they managed to reach the planet without being caught. It was impressive and frightening at the same time.

You tried to get out of here without drawing attention on you, but you got noticed by a probe droid on your way out. You quickly destroyed it and decided to take a closer look at it while Obi-Wan was calling the outpost to inform them of your discovery.

Probes droids were too heavy to be transported easily, but you still wanted to analyze it to maybe get a chance to find information on its sender.

When you plugged your datapad to its system, you realized that it had already given your position away and managed to download the coordinates to where the message had been sent. But something else caught your eyes. You noticed that in addition of your position, another message had been sent by the probe before it was taken down.

When the transcription of this second message appeared on your screen, the words made your blood curdle.

“Republic found us, activate outpost bomb.”

You let out a gasp of horror, your datapad nearly falling from your hands.

“We need to go back, now !” you yelled at Obi-Wan, unplugging your datapad in a hurry.

“(y/n), what did you saw ?” he asked worriedly.

“The probe sent a message with the order to “activate the outpost bomb”, they must have known that we were going to find them someday and booby trapped the outpost in anticipation, probably to cut its communications and prevent anyone from stopping their little traffic. Our troops are in danger, we need to make them get out of the building right now !”

You started to run as fast as possible toward the entrance of the mine, closely followed by your fellow jedi who was frantically trying to call his Commander again.

“Cody, we have been fooled, the outpost is compromised, the separatists have been hiding underground all along !” Obi Wan shouted through his commlink as soon as he heard his voice pick up the call.

“What ? How ?” the clone answered in a surprised tone.

“Please, we don’t have time to explain more, tell Wolffe and Master Plo to gather all of your men, you need to evacuate the place, now, please !” You added, out of breath.

“Copy that !”

The communication cut. The only thing left to do now was to pray for them to be able to escape on time.

A couple minutes later, as you were coming closer from the building, the sound of an explosion loudly ringed out, making the ground violently shake under your feet, stopping you in your tracks and making you lose your balance, nearly falling down.

“Oh kriff, no !” you screamed, instantly understanding what had just happened.

It was too late.

A wave of panic overwhelmed your body, and you soon started to run with even more determination. You were so fast that Obi-Wan could barely keep your pace.

When you finally got the outpost at eyes sight, you immediately noticed Master Plo and Cody, gathered with men from both of their battalions, standing far enough to be safe from the ferocious and high flames that where now eating what was remaining of the structure.

The two superior floors were completely destroyed and collapsed, only the ground floor was still standing, but it was drowned under a massive amount of scrapped metal, concrete and shattered glass.

“Are you okay ?” you desperately let out at them as soon as you were close enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, it’s okay, thanks to you, we could never have find out without your warning.” The commander answered.

“Did everybody escaped ? Are all of your men safe ?” you frantically asked, still in complete shock and looking around you, counting the troops before they can ever answer your question.

“Wait, someone’s missing …” you suddenly realized, “Where … Where is Wolffe ?” your voice was filled with concern, and you couldn’t even try to hide it as another wave of panic violently hit you.

 “He didn’t make it …”

“Wh .. What ?” you mumbled, feeling your whole body starting to shake nervously.

“He was still inside when the explosion happened, he wanted to make sure that everyone was outside, he didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but … He didn’t pass the door ... Then the building collapsed and the flames were fast to spread, we couldn’t do anything ...”

As soon as you heard these words, you felt like the whole world was crumbling around you. It was like if someone has hit you right in the chest, so strongly that your heart had just stopped beating. Your head started to spin and for a moment you thought that you were about to faint. But you were perfectly motionless, eyes staring into space, completely paralyzed.

“(Y/n), are you ok ?”

Cody’s voice was like an electroshock pulling you out of your thought and back to reality. It took you a few eyes blinks to be able to see clearly again, but without a warning you started to run toward the building. Instantly understanding what you were trying to do, Obi-Wan stopped you in your tracks, using the force against you to lift you up, making your feet leave their contact with the ground.

“(Y/n), it’s too late, you can’t do anything for him now, you have to let it go !”

You were trying to resist, but he was more powerful than you. But you just couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t stay here and watch the whole edifice burn to the ground without even trying to do something to rescue him, even if it meant risking your own life in the process. He meant too much to you for you to just leave him here to die alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down and concentrate, and then, gathering all of your strength, you turned back to face the jedi despite all the power unleashed against you.

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I just can’t do that.”

Without a warning, you threw the most powerful force wave you had ever created in his direction, sending him flying away. You fall flat in the dirt from the released pressure but get up on your feet quickly. No one could have ever stopped you from doing it, and everyone perfectly knew that there was no point on trying, for you would not let anyone stand in your way.

When you arrived right in front of the outpost, you managed to find the former main entrance. The door was gone, and at its place was now a gaping hole. You took another deep breath, and, collecting your energy once again, you created a force shield around before entering the blazing inferno.

The heat was already hard to bear on the outside, but now that you were inside, even with your shield, it was barely tolerable. You had absolutely no visibility, for the smoke and the flames had took the whole space, making it impossible to distinguish anything ahead from a few feet away. In a desperate attempt to locate Wolffe, you yelled his name at the top of your lungs, without, obviously, getting any answer.

You tried to stay calm, thinking about what Cody just told you. He was right behind them when they escaped, so he shouldn’t be that far from the entrance. You weren’t able to see anything, so you decided to close your eyes and focus on what force signatures you could feel around you. Soon, you started to perceive a distant and faint pulse. Something was still living under this blaze, and even if it seemed weak, it was here nonetheless.

With your instinct guiding you, you started to move forward, stepping over a few massive concrete obstacles. The heat was making you sweat abundantly under your robes, and you had a hard time keeping your eyes opened.

You tried to call his name again, despite knowing that nobody was going to call back. You continued to move forward, the presence was getting nearer, but the path to reach it seemed never ending. You had only been here for a very short amount of time, but it felt like light years in these conditions.

As you made a turn to avoid a big concrete wall part that had felt through the ceiling, you let out a gasp as you saw a human looking shape laying on the floor.

“Wolffe !” you screamed, quickening your pace to reach him faster.

As you were getting closer, the shape became more and more recognizable. You were right, it was a human form, and it was armored. Despite the yellowish atmosphere and the messed up colors, you still were able to catch a glimpse of the grey of his armor paint, as well as the special 104th design he was wearing on his spaulder. It was him, there was no doubt about that.

You closed the distance separating the two of you quickly, creating yourself a way through the flames with the help of the force.

“Wolffe …” you breathed out, falling on your knees next to him when you finally reached him, a lump growing in your throat. You knew that there was no time to check on him right here and right now, the absolute priority was to extract him from that hell. He was still wearing his helmet on, and even if you were dying to remove it to see his face and check his breath, you knew you couldn’t.

Maintaining a force shield around you was exhausting, but you still managed to find enough strength to lift him from the ground in your arms, wrapping them around his legs and back. But as soon as your hands came in contact with his armor, you felt the metal’s heat burning your palms and irradiating your arms through your robe’s sleeves. You hissed in pain and clenched your jaws but didn’t let go, the adrenaline helping you ignore it.

You stood up quickly despite that he was heavier than you, just in time to dodge a chunk of concrete falling from the ceiling. You quickly locate the door from where you came in and rushed toward it, praying that your eyes hadn’t fooled you on this time. Your head started to hurt and your vision to blur, it became harder and harder to breathe, and the heat was less and less bearable. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that it felt like it was about to explode, and you knew that soon, your body will not be able to take it anymore. Fortunately, you were on the right way, getting closer and closer to the escape.

A few steps away from the exit, you heard a loud crack noise coming from above you, just after realizing that a pile a debris was now baring the path. What was left of the first floor was probably going to fall on you in the next seconds, and in a desperate move, you broke your force shield and directed all of your energy toward the entrance, blowing the obstacles toward the outside to clear the way. Right after, you were out in the fresh air without even remembering how you made it.

Your pace accelerated, and you were now running frantically toward the rest of the battalion, putting as much distance as possible between you and the collapsing building

As you were getting closer to them, you heard someone scream something to the other, and suddenly everyone turned out from what they were doing to look at you. All of yours and Master Plo’s men saw you run toward the blaze and disappeared into it, and they were all waiting for your return in concern.

When you arrived at their level and stopped, you were panting and sweating like never before, and you felt like if you were chocking. The jedi immediately came toward you, asking you if you were alright, but you barely paid attention to them, too busy worrying about the man you were carrying. The atmosphere became heavy and tensed when the Wolfpack realized that their commander was completely still and not moving at all.

“I need a medic, please, can someone help me ?” you burst as you lowered down to gently lay him on the ground, drained and barely standing on your feet anymore, your throat still hurting and your voice harsh from inhaling too much smoke.

An agitation took over the men gathered around you and some of them rushed to find a medic. An anxious silence felt on the group as you bend over Wolffe and started to cautiously remove his helmet. Nobody dared to say a world, they all seemed to hold their breath, even the jedi stayed quiet. Your heart was still beating fast, but not from your run this time. You were afraid of what you could find under that bucket, and it skipped a bit when you saw his face. He was looking just like if he was asleep, almost too peaceful despite what he had just been through.

You checked his breath and his pulse, and a heavy sigh of relief escaped you when you realized that they hadn’t stopped.

“It’s ok, he’s alive” you quietly told Master Plo, who was crouched next to you, without taking your eyes off of the clone.

“Thanks to you, he was doomed without your help, you surely were his guardian angel on that one, (Y/n), once again.”

His last words made your head raise to look at him with surprise. It was something Wolffe once told you, when you were at his bedside after Ventress ripped his eye off. He told you how lucky he was that you had found him on time before she had the chance to finish him, and that you brought him back to the base when someone else would have probably left him behind to die.

He called you his guardian angel, and those words made your heart burst. That day, you promised him that you will never abandon him no matter what could happen.

Your gazes met, and you stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. That look the Kel Dor gave you was powerfully meaningful, you knew he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t exactly understand what. Then suddenly, you heard his voice ringing into your head, out of nowhere.

“I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but I think that you two will need to seriously discuss those feelings after all of this.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Did a Jedi Master just suggested you to confess your feelings to someone ? A ton of things came swirling in your mind at his words. How did he knew ? Were you not hiding it well enough ? Did he felt it through the force ?

Of course, he knew, he was one of the closest person to Wolffe along with you, and even if you had been trying your best to ignore and repress your feelings, maybe just the way you cared for each other and spent so much time together was making it obvious.

You didn’t get more time to think about it, as you caught a glimpse of three medics running toward you from the corner of your eyes. You raised your head to look at them, breaking the eye contact with Plo, but his voice came to your mind once again.

“He really is attached to you, you know.”

“I know” you whispered in response, low enough so Obi-Wan, who was standing next to you, could not hear it, “I am, too …”

The medics were by your side in no time, and you moved aside to give them some space to work. Two of them checked on the commander, while the third was standing next to a stretcher he brought.

“General, are you ok ?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy from the smoke, I feel like my lungs are full of ashes … But I’ll be alright.” You absent mindlessly answered, raising a hand to your face to swept the sweat still running on your forehead.

 “General, your hands, they’re burned !” he suddenly exclaimed with concern.

It was only at that moment that you realized how badly your skin had been burned and was hurting. Suddenly, you felt all the heavy weight of pressure and stress being lifted from your shoulders. A violent shiver came running through your spine despite the heat waves that were still striking at you, making you realized that you didn’t even get rid of your half consumed robes. You felt even more worn out, and all you were able to do was to stare at him with a vacant look, completely unable to react or speak anymore.

What happened next was so fast that you barely realized it, and you completely lost track of time.

Wolffe was placed on the stretcher and hooked to a respirator, for his lungs had been critically exposed to smoke. Then the medics removed his armor to examine the extent of his wounds. It was mostly burns, but fortunately not severe ones. They told you that a couple of bacta patches will be enough to treat them. You, too, were sat on a stretcher and gave a respirator, as well as a couples bacta patches for your hands and forearms.

 Soon after, reinforcement ships arrived to evacuate everyone and take you far from that hell of a planet. There was no point in staying here now that the outpost as well as all of the equipment had been completely destroyed. Wolffe’s state was stabilized, but he was still unconscious when you came onboard. You stayed close to him all the way back to Coruscant, hoping for him to wake up soon.

***

It took him a couple more hours after landing on Coruscant and being transferred to the GAR med bay to emerge from his coma. You stood by his side the whole time, waiting patiently for him to regain consciousness. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep, not wanting to miss the moment when he’ll open his eyes.

When he finally did, he looked all around him in confusion, not understanding why and how he ended up here. He was still wearing a respirator, and run his hands through it, trying to figure out what was that thing attached to his face. Then he stared at his arms, to which some electrodes plugged to a monitor and some bacta patches were stuck, before painfully trying to sit up straight. When he noticed your presence, his eyes started to sparkles and his face instantly enlightened.

“(Y/n) …” he whispered with a weak voice.

“Hey …” you whispered back with a relieved smile.

“What, what happened ? Why am I here?”

“Well, you got trapped in the fire back at the outpost, when helping our troops to get out. You fell unconscious, so we had to extract you from the building … But you’re safe now, back on Coruscant. The medics said that your burns were only superficial. The patches will heal them in no time !”

“I barely remember it … I just remember the explosion, and that I gathered my men to evacuate, the fire was spreading so fast … But after that, nothing … How are the other ? Are they safe ? I did my best to lead them outside but …” he sighed, his brows furrowing and his face tensing worriedly.

“They’re fine, all of them, thanks to you. Don’t worry, you did the best thing you could have done for them. And you, how do you feel now ?”

“Strange honestly, but not so bad. I can feel the burns, it hurts, but it’s still bearable. I just feel awfully tired … And thirsty.”

“Great”, you chuckled, handing him a glass of water that was settled on his bed table, “You’ll feel better soon, you just need to rest for now.”

He took the glass and drank it in one gulp, quickly putting his oxygen mask back in place right after, as he was starting to cough and struggle to breath without it.

He was lost in thoughts, replaying his memories in his mind, when he noticed your hands and arms entirely bandaged, only leaving the tips of some of your fingers exposed.

“Wait, were you hurt ? Are you ok ? What happened ?” he let out with an expression of deep concern.

You lowered your head at his words, hesitant to tell him the truth, suddenly feeling irrationally embarrassed and self-conscious.

“(Y/n) ? Are you okay ?”

“It … It happened when I pulled you out of the building after you fell unconscious … The metal of your armor was very hot because of the fire … But that’s okay, I’m fine, its already nearly healed !” you said quietly, smiling shyly and trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“You did what ?” he exclaimed with widening eyes.

“I … get back inside the building to found you when they told me that you didn’t get out on time …”

You both stayed silent for a moment, Wolffe trying to process what he had just heard.

“Why did you do that ? You could have been killed …” his voice was trembling, and you weren’t sure if he was reprimanding you or if he was just very surprised and worried.

“I know, but I wasn’t thinking about it at this moment, I was only thinking about you … I told you that I’ll always be here to watch your back, remember ? I just couldn’t leave you behind you know, I knew that you were still alive, I could feel it through the Force, I just couldn’t leave you here to die, that wasn’t even an option …”

His expression softened, you were right, you promised, and he knew that you were sincere about it, but he could never have imagined that you’ll literally jump into fire for him. He was so moved by your words that he found himself unable to refrain the words that were swirling over and over again and flashing in capital letters to his mind to escape from his mouth.

“I love you, (Y/n) …” he breathed out, his gaze lost on you.

It was your turn to stare at him with a confused expression.

“Sorry, what ?” you mumbled, not sure if you had just dreamed that or not.

“I love you, (Y/n).” he repeated, a bit louder, “I should have told you that before but … I wasn’t courageous enough to do it. But now I just need you to know, because maybe next time I will not be that lucky to have you by my side to save me, and I don’t want to die without having had the chance to tell it to you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I owe you my life … You truly are my guardian angel, and I love you more than anything in this world.”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, and without detaching them from him, you moved from your chair to the edge of his bed, sitting close to him, and carefully wrapped your arms around his body, before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

His skin was warm as if it was still soaked with the fire’s heat. You completely melted as he snuggles against you, his own arms encircling you, and one of his hand settled on your head, softly running its fingers through your hair.

“I don’t want to think about the eventuality of losing you …”, you muttered in his ear, voice filled with emotion, “I Just want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, I can’t express how important you are to me, I just know that I could never live in a world where you’re not by my side anymore … I love you too, and I just want to stay your guardian angel for as long as possible …”

You felt his embrace around you tighten a bit, and you hear him sighed in relief through his respirator.

“Thank you” he muttered back, his own eyes starting to be submerged with tears, “I’ll do my best to stay with you as long as I can then, I promise you, mesh’la, I just want to be with you.”

After a moment, you let go of his neck and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes and you felt him shivered under your lips, his cheeks turning a bright tone of red.

“I wish I could take that mask off to kiss you, but I’m afraid I might suffocate again if I try too …” he met out with disappointment.

“Don’t worry about that” you giggled, “we’ll have plenty of time to catch it up when you’ll get better.”

“I can’t wait for it”, he whispered, a fond smile instantly appearing on his face, before pulling in for another gentle and long-awaited hug.

[clarity2electricboogaloo]

This might get long but it’s on the brain right now. Not much organization just ranting.

Not proof read immediately, might make edits later.

The Wilbur situation. It’d fucking sickening to think about but when I see posts ranting I kinda have to and now it won’t leave.

Wilbur soot, since June or July of 2022, was such an inspiration to me. His acting, his music, what he was able to create through just a computer screen and a game where everything is shaped like a block. It was amazing.

I loved watching him and his interactions with people like Tommy, Phil, Techno (RIP 👑) and anyone else on the dsmp server or the osmp or anything else he had joined since.

I had loved his characters and the way things developed. His music could be something I blast in my headphones, something I could cry to, or something to just vibe to. Hell, his fucking band was my top artist last year for Spotify wrapped.

I’d cosplayed tallulah and taken pictures with Wilburs at a convention. More people he had impacted and sparked creativity in.

He was a part or daily life, honestly.

And that all came crashing down yesterday.

I got the news at school from a friend that enjoyed Wilbur’s content before everything. During lunch she said, “He basically admitted to the allegations.”

I needed to see it to fully comprehend it, but there it was later when I checked discord. A half-assed apology for the abuse allegations flooding in after Shelby’s stream. I was disgusted.

I watched Shelby’s vod of the stream next. Everything I heard clicked with what I read on the “apology.” It only deepened what I was feeling and what my friends were feeling.

10 fucking months Shelby took to recover from this relationship. And all she gets is “whoops I was an asshole but therapy!!”

Physical, emotional, and financial abuse. And we only have what she said on stream, apparently not even half of it.

She’s right to not accept his apology.

She deserves so much better and I am so happy fans are providing her support and showing just how proud they are that she was able to come out with this story.

I’ve seen many realizing that they are in or have been in relationships like this through Shelby. And though this should never be something that happens, being able to spread awareness, prevent these types of things from happening to other people, and shutting down an abuser is just. I’m glad at least a few good things came out of that horrid relationship.

My heart goes out to Shelby and any other victims.

This is not all I wanted to say but with the progression of this rant there’s nowhere to really put them.

That is all.

Support victims, fuck Wilbur Soot, send all love and support to Shubble.

Thank you for reading my rant.

[kingofthering]

Because I'm aPedrenzo sucker: Pedrenzo + …on a place of insecurity.

“Can we just do a couple of me standing in front of the pool? I think it’ll look great with the setting sun and we’ll be good after that.”

“Sure thing,” Dani nods, watching as Jorge smiles at him before turning around.

Truth be told, It hasn’t come to a full surprise to have to watch Jorge develop this small influencer activity on the side of racing and consulting for DAZN -after all, Dani knows him and is well aware that his husband can be more adventurous and show-y than people usually give him credit for.

Dani wouldn’t be able to do it but he’s supportive of Jorge. And if that means that sometimes he has to take pictures of him wearing pretty watches and working out in fancy hotels, well, Dani knows how to use a phone’s camera just fine, and he’ll enjoy the vacation on the side.

After Dani has clicked on the right buttons a couple of times, he clicks on the corner of the screen to check on his work. As he slides his thumb on the screen and goes backwards through the pictures, he ends up looking at a photo of himself. His brain bugs for a hot second before he remembers that he’s holding Jorge’s phone.

There are a couple of photos actually, all taken when they were enjoying the pool earlier today. Dani loosely remember seeing Jorge with his phone at some point and there is even a picture of Dani smiling at the camera, but others were obviously taken when Dani wasn’t looking.

Dani startles and almost drops the phone when arms wrap around his middle, warmth enveloping his back as Jorge presses against him, chin hooking itself over Dani’s shoulder. “Oh, do you think I should send the brand pictures of my hot husband? You sell this pool way better than me, babe,” Jorge says before kissing the hinge of Dani’s jaw.

Dani can immediately feel his cheeks heat up. The photo they’re both looking at right now is one of him sitting on the side of the pool, his legs in the water, his arms behind himself, chest exposed and head thrown back, taking the sun in.

It’s probably a nice picture, one Jorge obviously enjoys, but Dani’s eyes keep being drawn to his scars and the fat that settled over his abs when he retired as a reserved rider and stopped training like one. It’s not like he’s ever been really critical of his own body but maybe sometimes he wishes he wasn’t so scraped up and that’s like, whatever, not an issue to lose sleep over or anything.

“Yeah, right,” Dani eventually chuckles before shutting Jorge’s phone off. When he turns it just enough to activate it, a selfie of the two of them stare back at him from Jorge’s lockscreen. They had taken it at the top of the hike they did a couple of weeks ago, extenuated but happy to just be alone together in front of a beautiful view.

“What’s wrong?” Jorge murmurs against his neck. Dani’s laugh must have been off or Jorge is doing that annoying thing where he can read Dani’s mood because they’ve known each other and been together for so long.

“Nothing,” Dani squeezes Jorge’s hand on his waist. “Do you want to see the photos? You look really good in them.”

Jorge shakes his head, his 3-days stubble rubbing against Dani’s cheek, making him instinctively move away from the itch. Jorge tightens his hold on him. “Don’t want to look at myself when I’ve got something way better to look at right now.”

It’s so cheesy Dani has to groan and roll his eyes even if Jorge can’t see them.

In answer, Jorge smiles into his neck before kissing him there and using his hands on Dani’s waist to turn his around and walk him back until the back of Dani’s legs hit the bed. Jorge does this stupid thing he does with his eyes when he wants Dani to move up the mattress and it’s not even sexy but Dani is in love with him and endeared by the cringy things. He complies and lies down, Jorge immediately following him.

Jorge slots one thigh between Dani’s legs, one forearm down next to his head to support himself a little and not fully crush Dani. He uses his free hand to angle Dani’s face the way he wants it, capturing his lips in a sweet and slow kiss that’s easy for Dani to let himself get lost into.

“You’re so hot, Dani, you don’t even know how lucky I am,” Jorge says when they separate, Dani’s brain not oxygenated enough to deal with this. His cheeks definitely turn even redder. What is he even supposed to answer to that?

Jorge shakes his head. “That’s fine, I’ll keep telling you until you trust me. Going to kiss all my favorite places in the world in the meantime, if that’s okay with you.”

Dani is turning into a lobster by now but he’s once again at a loss for words, only able to open and close his mouth once. It seems to amuse Jorge who smiles at him before bending his head down to kiss the corner of Dani’s mouth, then starting a line down his jaw and following with his neck.

Dani shivers when Jorge’s lips hit the scarred tissue on his collarbone. He knows Jorge has the matching pink on his own collarbone, Dani can see a hint of it from where he’s lying. It’s a delirious thought to have, how many scars they have in common, not something Dani tries to dwell on too much.

The cool metal of Jorge’s wedding ring knocks against Dani’s ribs and Dani fists one hand in Jorge’s hair, not to be in control but because he knows Jorge will like it, can even feel him gently rocking down against Dani when Dani scrapes his nails against his scalp.

When Jorge starts kissing his stomach, Dani wiggles just a little. When Jorge hooks both of his thumbs under the elastic of his swim trunks, Dani nods. When Jorge swallows him down, Dani tries his best not to fully arch his back off the bed. When Jorge comes back up and presses one last kiss under Dani’s ear and says “I love you”, Dani is still a little breathless when he says “Love you too, I’m the one so lucky to have you” and he can feel Jorge’s smile against his neck.

[gone-fish-mode]

word vomit incoming

anyone who wants to hear the confused garbles of your neighborhood gill man should click below. i just blab!

talking about my alterhumanity with people who don't understand alterhumanity is always so strange to me. Because I tell them my experiences and they get it, they understand how my sense of self has veered towards being a monster, how my phantom sensations have developed and how yes, my brain understands my body and my mind to be nonhuman. But they don't get that I'm One Of Them.

The tiktok therian teenagers and I? We're the same. I'm the same as the ones on tumblr with 20 kintypes who you think is weird. We're on the same team, I can not express just how similar the people you don't get and I are connected.

And bless her, I love my friend. She really does get me, and I think she'd get anyone who told her their story, but it is still such an interesting experience to talk about alterhumanity with them.

And I never outright told her that I was nonhuman, but it was the general "They experience what I experience, they just call it something different" (I don't call myself otherkin irl for a myriad of reasons despite talking openly about feeling not human, but I digress... I'll probably tell her sooner or later, though.... who knows). I don't know, its wild.

Regardless, it just makes me thankful to be otherkin and just. not fully human. It's provided me comfort and a place to experience emotions that I simply could not fit into a fully human identity. I'm able to connect with people who are like me and enjoy my body in a way that I don't think many others can. Seeing myself as nonhuman has made me more confident and I'm able to tackle issues better now that I have an outlet for all of these emotions.

And this is very much the copinglink side of me talking, here. My nonhumanity does stem from my lived experiences and I would have these emotions regardless of if I identified with being otherkin or not. But I feel that the way I interact with these feelings very much fall into copinglink. Only my gill man identity, though! The alien otherkin part is fully just otherkin, just how I am treated shaping how I see myself. It's why I don't talk about it all too much and why my blog is mostly gill man themed. It provides me so so so much more comfort than being an alien does.

anyway. gifs of the asset that make me. feel things.

[chillibeanos]

THE MISADVENTURES OF BEAN SPROUT

Episode 1 - A Normal Day In Suburbia

*apologies that it runs a bit short!!!!!!!

(ALL FRANCHISE-BASED WORKS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS)

Sit back, Relax, and Enjoy!!

White-picket fences, barbed wire and trenches…

These are what Auburn was generally described with. It was a town of joy, happiness, sorrow, chaos, deep-minded people…Basically anything goes. Some people go on long and quiet days in their room, while others go to Mulberry Beach. Maybe others wanted to see Prosopagnosia Museum to look at great works of art. Perhaps you could go to the Amaryllis Town Center to go shopping for your daily needs. You could go to the Burgundy Boardwalk to see new sights and sounds…

There’s a good range of everything.

However, our story takes a turn. This tale revolves around our childish yet violent anti-hero rabbit creature, Bean Sprout. Today they’re in a doctor’s office. One of their friends is operating on an injury they got while taking a dangerous trek through the most dangerous place imaginable…

“That’s not true, Bean. You fell off the high-dive at the local pool.”

“It is true! My whole body hurts now.”

“Only your hands should hurt.”

“Not as much as yours though.”

“Just be quiet.”

“Right. Sorry, Mr Strange.”

That’s right. Bean is friends with Dr. Strange. How? I don’t know, it just happened one day and that brought us here.

Stephen sighed. “How old are you Bean? Like 12?

“Excuse you! I’m 28!

“You don’t look or act like you’re 28.”

“I can look and act like I’m-”

Just then, Stephen poked their hand accidentally, making them let out a cartoon-like shout.

“YEOWCH!!!!”

“Sorry, sorry. Let me get that.

“:[“

“Bean…don’t look at me like that.”

“I got an ouchie :[“

“Bean, you’re fine. You’re a disciple to a literal god. He can get you a new body if you ever die.”

“But ouchie :[

Also, don’t go around saying that, Mr. Strange. There are dangerous people coming for my throat as we speak.”

“Well, maybe…you shouldn’t have killed all of those people when you were 12.”

“I was young! Naive even! I wasn’t thinking clearly! Brains aren’t fully developed until you’re 25 you know.”

“...It doesn’t seem like yours right now is fully developed either.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

As their surgery was done, Bean thanked him and went off on their merry way. They went to the beach to relax. They took off their shoes and put their little bunny paws in the sand.

“Ah…peace and quiet…”

A ship was being taken down by a kraken in the distance.

“Like I said…peace and quiet…”

There was a person on fire, screaming in agony as their skin peeled off behind them.

“He’ll walk it off.”

They smiled and began burying themself in the sand. Yeah, they aren’t the most morally-correct or empathetic person out there, but they didn’t care. They were having fun and that’s all that mattered. They were part of the Guardians of The Galaxy for god’s sake! They were a big time Toon in 1956 Hollywood. They worked for the President as a D.S.O Agent. They were happily married to 97 different people. Their brothers were Ash Williams and Ethan Winters. They are heavily considered to be adopt-able. Their uncles were Arthur Morgan and Tony Stark. Their cousins were the Animaniacs, which technically made them Warner Brothers property legally. They’re wanted for several millions of units in the galaxy and are still on the run from being put on death row. Their sister was the Savior of the Mutiverse, Kai Drew! There’s seemingly nothing they aren’t capable of doing.

Later in the day, they went over to an afternoon barbecue at someone’s household. They went in and stood next to Monarch Lovelace, the sexiest butterfly hybrid around. He was holding a glass of white wine, as was Bean.

“Hi Monarch!”

“Oh hello, Bean. it’s good to see you.”

“How are you? :3”

“Good. You?”

“I got hand surgery today.”

“Oh, are you okay? Did it go well?”

“Mhm. I’m fine. It went well.”

“That’s good.”

Monarch smiled warmly and held both of the bunny’s hands. He pressed a gentle kiss on them.

“I think this was a good close for today. Don’t you agree, Bean?”

“Yeah…It sure was-” Bean was being totally normal and not insane about the guy doing that just now while they were in proximity.

Monarch put a hand over their shoulder as they both watched the people at the party have fun at the gathering…

[End of Episode 1]

[rainneverstopped]

July the 3rd 2024, 5:38pm

There simply isn’t enough Clonazepam to make me feel indifferent to the fact that I wasted my life away without even meaning to.

And no, nothing in the future can ever make up for that or come even close to what I should have had. I don’t want what’s coming. In fact, I fear it. I have no interest in aging and all that comes along with it.

I’m filled with sadness and hollow despair because others managed and manage. They go out and enjoy and live and turn into what they want. I can’t even make myself go for a walk when there’s no appointments for the day.

I’m tired of slowly losing myself and then losing myself faster and faster. There isn’t even any company. Even if I heal, it won’t be enough and the thought haunts me and makes me reach for the stupid bottle of anti anxiety liquid three times a day, even though it doesn’t take anything fully away.

I want myself back. I feel I was never truly mine. My defective brain chains me to the ground. Beats me up into submission. I just want time to rewind itself. I want to be everything I wanted when I wanted something. When I could still want. When I felt the electricity of possibility and paths ahead that didn’t lead to old age and ruin. It’s almost as though I wanted so ardently, so desperately but was not able to follow through and something in my brain became atrophied and tired. Nothing sinks in anymore and I’m left with screaming voices in my mind asking for more every time because it all feels like crumbs of the meal I should have received. Now all I feel is a cold, desperate longing to be there again. To undo the damage, while clueless voices tell me it’s not that bad and act as though time had no weight and no consequences. As though one could start and catch up at any age and the effect on development and the self was the same it would have been if it had happened early on.

I’m filled with hatred at the ignorance and mind numbing positivity. My conscience trails off, my brain tells me “nothing of use here, I could take this time to try and recharge” and it shuts down all non essential features. I know they are talking because from far away I hear the same tired, sanitized, pop psychology sayings that I saw on Facebook reposts years back with a picture of a sunset in a field as a background. It has been repackaged and replaced any common sense in the collective understanding of what it’s like to be unwell and now makes its new rounds on Instagram with similar pictures over it and it has bled into the fabric of the outside world. The quotes never change: ���it’s never too late”, “better now than never”, “you have to appreciate life for what it is”. I feel myself floating in place where I stood just seconds ago. I feel my forced blinks. The corners of my mouth uncomfortably and hopelessly twisting into a fake smile. My head moving up and down, nodding in equally fake agreement. My eyes unfocus and their faces make no sense, I feel anxiety and I want nothing else but to look away but that’s rude so I keep my eyes where they are. I feel all that so deeply. What I don’t feel is my heart beating, hope, curiosity from them towards my experiences, understanding for systemic failure towards invisible neurodevelopmental disabilities. And what’s worse: I don’t feel my humanity or theirs. I just float there waiting for them to finish their performance of the same tired, rehashed script. I feel so far away. They don’t even wait for applause when they are done, so sure of their performance and satisfied with their words that whatever I say after is meaningless so I don’t bother. I used to. For years I dug in the filthy, shallow puddle of their words looking for something of value, something deeper. No point anymore, I might as well save that energy to walk home, shower, place a slice of ham in between two pieces of bread and tell myself it’s a dinner, drag myself to the bathroom where I weakly move the toothbrush across my mouth for a minute or two until I tire of the exercise and tell myself it’s probably fine if I use the antibacterial mouth wash and decide it’s time to walk to bed. Where I should have been all day, the bed I should have never left because nothing works so what’s the point?. They stare right through me as I think all this.

I say what I need to so I don’t hurt their feelings because it’s hopeless. There’s no space for a conversation in the script. It allows no edits. No improvisation. I’m left alone with the same feelings as soon as they are off to wherever they were going. Both of us unaltered by the exchange and emotionally foreign to one another. We might as well be miles away. The difference between us is that this actually feels like falling into a dark pit to me. I endlessly replay it in my head, stunned by the disappointment. Looking for an outlet that is never to be found. Even calling the psychiatric assistance hotlines I saved into the contacts of my phone seems stupid now. I sit alone in a cold room. There are so many parts of me that are so trascendental and they remain unseen and unprompted in this useless theater plays they put on. I feel alone so I stop answering their calls and messages, I sit beside myself for months on end. They act shocked at this and I think that after so many years they would have figured it out. I’m nothing if not consistent and repetitive in this pattern but recognizing and deciding patterns requires an interest in the person the patterns come from. It requires silence, looking deeply into someone instead of waiting for your turn to talk and why would that ever be done?. I realize I’ve been supplementing my life with imaginary lands to escape to. The access to my own inner realms seems so limited now. I’m filled with rage at myself. I can no longer even dream and fantasize most of the time. There’s no hope ahead to nurture me enough to do that. I’ve been in bed all day and I hope I die here tonight in my sleep. I don’t want to discover any more ways to feel alone and scared. I no longer feel there’s anything out there to look for.

[seodiggerz]

Five Most Effective Ways To Be Happy at Work

Do you feel happy at work? This is one of the most significant questions we all should ask ourselves. If you wonder why? The answer is simply because life is a pursuit of happiness. Do you ever want to be unhappy? Obviously no! Isn’t it? But, if you don’t feel happy at work, this implies that every day you spend most of your time in unhappiness. This is not good for your physical and mental well-being. So, don’t you think now is the time to change things? It is time to make your work life happy. You may wonder if this is actually possible. Definitely!  In this blog, we are going to discuss it only. Let’s proceed: First of all, it is important for you to find out the reason for your unhappiness at work. A toxic work environment, disliking the kind of work you do and inner unhappiness are the three most common reasons for feeling unhappy at work. If the work environment is toxic and it makes you extremely unhappy, then, you should definitely try to switch your workplace. Further, if you have an extreme disliking for the work you do, then also, you should try to develop some skills in the field of your liking. Once you have sufficient skills, you can switch to a new job.  But, if you think that the workplace environment is okay and you are fine with the work you do, then, working on increasing your inner happiness will definitely help you be happier in the workplace. So, let’s discuss 5 actionable ways to be happy at work.  5 actionable ways to be happy at work: 1. Start your day with exercise: Do you know that sitting too much and engaging in a sedentary lifestyle leads to unhappiness and depressive symptoms? Yes, this is true. It has been highlighted in a scientific study. So, it is very much possible that a lack of physical activities makes you feel unhappy.  I know that it is hard for most of us to work out after getting back from work, but we can definitely start our day with exercise. Exercise stimulates the brain to secrete happy hormones like Serotonin and Dopamine. These hormones trigger positive feelings and make us feel happy. This means that you can start your work day on a happy note by exercising in the morning. 2. Develop a good friend circle at work: The company of good friends makes a barren island turn into an adventure spot. Don’t you agree? I’m sure you do. So, why not create a good friend circle at work? If you’ll have your friends around, you will be able to have a word with them whenever you begin feeling low. Moreover, you can also have a fun-filled lunch break with your friends, laugh and enjoy.  So, you should try to win friends in the workplace. For this, there are two important factors that you’ll need to work on. One is your body language and the other is your behavior. If you have open and influential body language along with nice behavior, your colleagues will definitely develop an inclination toward you. As a result, you’ll have greater chances of attracting friends in the workplace. 3. Practice mindfulness to create a state of flow: In psychology, flow is the state in which you are fully immersed and engrossed in the work you are doing. In the presence of such an engrossment, you experience a kind of inner joy flowing through you. So, if you can enter a state of flow while working, you’ll actually feel joyous within. Now, how can you get completely immersed in your work? The answer is by becoming mindful.  Mindfulness involves paying close attention to what you are doing. For example, if you are typing, then you can practice mindfulness by feeling the texture of the keys on your laptop and the sound they create. As you begin doing so, you’ll naturally enter into a state of flow and a river of joy will start flowing through you. This is one of the biggest secrets to being happy at work. 4. Make use of the Pomodoro Technique: Stress is one of the major causes of unhappiness in the workplace. No doubt, some amount of stress is inevitable, excessive stress leads to frustration and unhappiness. One of the best ways through which you can prevent yourself from becoming overly stressed and can try stress management is by utilizing the Pomodoro technique while working. It involves working for a dedicated duration of 25 minutes and then, taking a break for 5 to 7 minutes.  When you use this technique, you do not engage in continuous working for long periods of time, which is a cause of stress for your brain. So, you should always try to take regular short breaks from work with the help of the Pomodoro technique. Moreover, during the short breaks, you can engage in activities that make you feel happy. Reading your favorite blog, listening to songs and taking a walk in the sunlight are some examples of rejuvenating activities which you can try during short breaks. 5. List at least 3 good things which happened at work during the day on a daily basis: Our brains are so programmed that they focus more on the negative aspects of things than the positive ones. Thanks to the survival mechanism. So, the negative aspects of your professional life are likely to attract more of your attention than the positive ones. This can make you feel unhappy even when there are reasons for you to be happy about your work life.  So, you should try to list at least 3 good things which happened at work during the day on a daily basis. This activity will slowly drag your attention toward the positive elements of your professional life. As you begin to feel positive about your work, you’ll naturally start experiencing higher levels of happiness in the workplace. You spend most of your time at work. If you want to live happily, it is crucial that you feel happy at work. The above-mentioned tips will help you become happier with your professional life. Now, wishing you all the best and may you be bestowed with immense happiness in life.    Read the full article

[vegalocity]

What would have happened in the oblivion series if Porty actually liked Red Son/developed a crush on him 

I guess it depends on at what part of 'the plan' Porty is at when he realizes he's officially real enough to Catch Feelings

under the cut because it got long

If he's already past the part at the climax of part 1 when he 'sets up the job' for him and he's officially fully embraced being 'a gift for Xiaotian' then Porty's probably figuring to himself that he can't go back on that, he can't start rescinding orders or it'll make it easier for Red to start ignoring other more important orders, the whole project would be down the tubes. Especially since Red's developed a sort of strange dependence on the music. It would be a more bitter parting, and if in his perfect setup, Xiaotian had been totally down for his new toy, he would make double triple sure Classic Model really knows how to take care of him. He doesn't want to hear about him like, tormenting Red with his iron grip on his mind for kicks or anything (-eyes @unseelie-robynx's bad end fics-) so it would basically be the same thing as it is in the normal story because Xiaotian's gonna find out and still be pissed. The only thing that would be different in this version would probably be Porty being kind of... offended? at how disgusted Xiaotian is by this. Because he didn't HAVE to make him a gift for him! He could have taken this sweet cute perfect little plaything and just had him for himself, but he GAVE him to HIM and this is how he thanks him??

At the beginning of the timeline, when the plan was still supposed to make him a bodyguard, he'd probably try to subtly turn him against his parents, maybe he doesn't have enough faith in the music yet to be able to change his perception to the degree of getting Red to reciprocate his newfound feelings, so he'd want Red to want to be here for the Porty itself and he can do the seduction part himself. Maybe convince him to start coming earlier and earlier until he's starting to show up the second the club is open and stays until porty tells him he should go home before his parents get too worried, and enjoy listening to him complain because he'd rather stay here with him. He might start to cut the music out of Red's brain after a certain point, thinking it's done its job once Red's coming in and seeming to have a complete blast dancing with the others and flirting with him while he's near the turntables. he probably doesn't develop any sort of dependency on Oblivion in this version, he just attributes the whole thing to sort of dissociating a bit when he was first coming here and getting really really overwhelmed. This one doesn't even really raise any red flags when Xiaotian makes the scene, because Red's acting pretty normal, he complains about The Original Nyoodle Boy showing up and ruining the whole atmosphere, and when questioned asks if he really thought Red doesn't do anything to unwind after long days of being evil. Also HELL NO Are you allowed to poof their DJ! who cares if he's a clone! He's real enough for Red and he'll fight Xiaotian over it! Ironically still fulfilling the niche of bodyguard.

But if it was right in that sweet spot, after Red confessed but before the 'Gift' idea was fully stuck into his brain, he'd just... casually 'make him his'. Red Son just... doesn't come home that night, spends a whole day under Oblivion so he'll fully be convinced of the story Porty fabricates for him even if he wasn't put under to reinforce it a single time from then on, about how they'd been having some gentle sweet secret relationship this whole time, and he'd just recently decided he couldn't stand it anymore, and he's going to go home and pack some stuff and elope with him, maybe leave a letter to his parents explaining the issue so they won't go looking. Now, he needs an actual place to stay of course he can't just sleep on the break room couch anymore with another body wanting to cuddle, but Red's loaded so he's able to find a decent apartment nearby to plan his sets while the two of them cuddle on the couch. He needs to upkeep it a little bit, with Red. He complains about wierd headaches that make him feel uneasy, upset. and Porty's best option is to let him drift until they're gone. Better and easier than worrying about that being the truth trying to leak out. When Xiaotian shows up it's to a Red who thinks HE's the clone and thinks Porty's being so sweet giving him a clone Xiaotian to keep him company so he won't get lonely while he's working~ Xiaotian does not consider mind control and thinks that Red just made an honest mistake and thought Porty was the real him. He's not sure how to process that Red's been in a relationship 'with him' that was apparently serious enough to break with his Parents, and he doesn't know how to break it to him that that's a clone he'd fallen for. Or if Red would respond well to his own feelings. the record gathers dust, nobody whose still alive aware of its hand in this.

[voxofthevoid]

This popped up in my notifications recently, and it's kind of funny how many of my impressions have changed in the one entire year since I wrote this.

(Side note: While I know how long it's been, it's fucking wild to think I've been into JJK since November 2022.)

I figured I'd write out what's changed:

When the “You’ve got it from here” scene gets animated, I will lose my entire goddamn mind.

Unfortunately, I did not lose my entire mind. I didn't lose even a tiny bit of it. I was extremely disappointed with how that scene was animated; the unnecessary angle change and melodramatic drawn-out tension ruined the whole thing for me. Even the immediate aftermath sucked. Hell, even Nanami exploding looked more comical than gruesome. And while I'll always be sad about that (this is one of my favorite scenes, but at least I have the perfection in the manga), MAPPA did compensate with this:

What gets me about this scene is the way it shows how Yuuji remembers Nanami—not as the exhausted half-corpse who was pulverized in front of him but as he was in life, in the days they spent together. That kind, gentle smile is exactly what Yuuji saw last, but he's transposed it onto how Nanami chose to present himself. Something about that detail just kills me.

Other than vertical incest, there’s no relationship dynamic that’s safe from my gremlin hands.

Oh, this cracks me up every time I think about it. It turns out vertical incest is also not safe from me!! Kenjaku/Yuuji now lives rent free in my brain, and while the Unclekuna revelation hasn't had any effect on my opinion of canon sukuita dynamics, I've found I'm all for modern AUs with uncle/nephew sukuita. I still prefer twincest in modern contexts, but I like that Jin rather than Yuuji is Sukuna's reincarnated twin in the manga.

Now I’ve got like three different ideas that’s a mix of nanayuu and goyuu. If I don’t write at least one of them, someone should punch me.

I wrote a small novel's worth of Nanami/Yuuji and Gojou/Yuuji, in an omegaverse setting to boot, so no fists will be needed.

I have one(1) idea that’s a mix of goyuu+gofushi+itafushi+goitafushi (it’s…complicated), but it’s pretty low on the priority list.

This ended up being fully written way earlier than I thought I would because of the April anniversary project, and honestly, I enjoyed it immensely.

I’ll be frank: I want to like this ship a lot more than I actually do. And that’s mostly because Sukuna is a bit hit-and-miss for me.

I officially like sukuita to the point it's at serious risk of deposing nanaita as my second-favorite ship. Sukuna still makes me feel violent, but his OG form has done wonders to reshape the nature of said violence (read: I want to fist his belly mouth). More importantly, the developing dynamics of the fight between Yuuji and Sukuna have got me straight-up rabid. I'm down bad; I'm down horrendous. Yuuji should eat this man alive.

I do see a lot of potential in this ship for hate sex, except what I’d like to see is a very specific dynamic that I haven’t been able to find—and one that’s complicated enough that I’m not sure I could write it either. I might try some day, especially if inspiration strikes.

Inspiration did strike, violently and repeatedly. Not only has my total number of sukuita (plus goyuu) ideas gone up, but I've also written two fics with it. I'd say I've got the hate sex dynamic I prefer down, so now it's a matter of branching out as the plots demand.

My thoughts on itafushi and chosoita remain largely unchanged. I've also acquired hiita and kenita as ships I like enough to write. The spite-fuelled "get Yuuji hole" mission may increase the list further.

your thoughts on the other (popular) yuuji pairings? 👀

How many hours do you have 👀

I love too many Yuuji ships for my own good, honestly. But I'm not much of a multishipper, so everything else comes secondary to goyuu. Buuuut JJK is also the first fandom for which I've liked multiple ships enough to try and write more than just my OTP, so it's safe to say I like these Yuuji ships a hell of a lot.

Putting it under a cut because concision and I are arch-enemies. Also, I don't want to clog up the ship tags with my ramblings, so before you click through, know that this talks about nanayuu, chosoita, itafushi, and sukuita.

Caveat that I've read very, very few JJK fics, so I'll be talking mostly in relation to canon and my own writing.

Here goes, in order of adoration:

Nanami/Yuuji

Their canon dynamic is so good; I love how Yuuji's exuberance contrasts with Nanami's reticence, and more than that, I love how they're both intrinsically kind in a really similar way, even if Nanami's version has been tempered by the harsh realities of their world. Plus, it never gets old just how much Nanami lets Yuuji get away with—I mean, Nanamin, seriously. He protests once and then goes "well, guess I'm Nanamin now." Amazing. Predictably, Shibuya did unholy things to my poor heart. When the "You've got it from here" scene gets animated, I will lose my entire goddamn mind.

That said, I started out liking them platonically, but well, other than vertical incest, there's no relationship dynamic that's safe from my gremlin hands, so I wound up shipping them sooner than later. Specifically, I wrote a goyuu fic with a heavy focus on platonic Nanami&Yuuji and plummeted headfirst into shipping them, so now I've got like three different ideas that's a mix of nanayuu and goyuu. If I don't write at least one of them, someone should punch me.

Chōsō/Yuuji

Listen, brocon just comes very naturally when Chōsō is involved, and it doesn't help that sibling incest with fuckery potential has always lit up my brain (Sam/Dean from SPN, Vash/Knives from Trigun, etc.). What I like about their canon relationship is the...imbalance that's kind of there, especially at the beginning. Chōsō has family revelations after hallucinating one near-death-experience-induced (and Yuuji's NDE at that) picnic scene and is immediately ride or die, while Yuuji's just there going "???" He's treated complete strangers with more delicacy than he affords Chōsō when they're alone in Shibuya, which makes perfect sense given the circumstances and Yuuji's mental state at the time. And even once Yuuji seems to remember his "mum" and realize Chōsō is his brother, there's the distinct sense that Chōsō's attachment is a hell of a lot more intense and more explicitly connected to the blood relation, as opposed to Yuuji's usual warmth to an ally and friend. And that contrast of complete, immediate devotion and cautious, burgeoning affection makes me want to do unholy things to them both.

Which is why Chōsō is currently getting enthusiastically eaten and eaten out by Yuuji in my Word document. It's not even subtle as far as metaphors go.

Megumi/Yuuji

A friend described my thing for this as a "tiny, doting crush," and it's pretty accurate. Canon sells this pretty hard from the get-go, and something that struck me is that, a lot of the time when you have a shonen hero who's dragged into a new world, it's a female character, usually the future love interest/main heroine/first girl, that does it. In JJK, you have Megumi in that role—fun all over. Also, the narrative is highly consistent about highlighting both of their complicated feelings about their involvement in the other's current predicament. Their interactions are also interesting from the beginning, both the lighthearted moments and the heavier stuff. And the manga panel split between a freshly Sukunafied Megumi and a very horrified Yuuji remains one of my favorites.

Thing is, since canon feeds me pretty well in terms of this ship, I don't feel much of an urge to read or write it. I have one(1) idea that's a mix of goyuu+gofushi+itafushi+goitafushi (it's...complicated), but it's pretty low on the priority list.

Sukuna/Yuuji

I'll be frank: I want to like this ship a lot more than I actually do. And that's mostly because Sukuna is a bit hit-and-miss for me. There are parts in the story where I've loved him and parts where I wanted to step on his face—not in the fun way either. And ever since he took over Megumi, I've been in "step on his face" mode. Their canon relationship appeals to me mostly because Sukuna brings out a side of Yuuji that only Mahito has managed, and their scant interactions while sharing a mind and body were pretty interesting. The blend of hostility and humor was nice, and I kind of like that there's pretty much zero chance of it getting resolved like with, say, Kurama and Naruto.

Anyway, I do see a lot of potential in this ship for hate sex, except what I'd like to see is a very specific dynamic that I haven't been able to find—and one that's complicated enough that I'm not sure I could write it either. I might try some day, especially if inspiration strikes.

Thanks for asking, anon ❤

[tricktster]

So I once again have a lot of new followers, meaning that it’s time for my periodic disclosure that I started this blog back in 2015 to promote *deep breath* my Explicit Sans/Reader Undertale fanfic, Chill or Be Chilled.

If you’re rolling your eyes at that title, that’s totally justified because it was super halfassed, much like I initially expected the whole fic would be. If you’re rolling your eyes at the words “explicit,” “Sans,” and “Reader,” buddy, you aren’t alone, because I never would have chosen that particular combo of content and characters if I hadn’t been up to a scheme to bilk you fuckin’ rubes for all you’re worth.

I’m kidding. Kind of. Like, I didn’t really think that it would ever go anywhere at the outset: I began writing a few months after I graduated grad school and immediately thereafter got incredibly, INCREDIBLY sick, leading to a month long hospitalization that absolutely destroyed my path to get a paid job in my chosen field for about a year (I had to wait months to take a qualifying exam that’s only offered twice a year due to the hospitalization.)

So there I was, recovering from medical trauma, bored and aimless, unemployed, wildly depressed, and suddenly trying to scrape by in my manhattan apartment without a revenue source or student loans to facilitate my doing so. At the time, I was just like “eh, I’ll try my hand at writing fanfic, how hard could it be? and like, maybe i can get some people to donate money if I get enough clicks… and then I can use that money to buy food that isn’t just toast/ketchup sandwiches!!!!!”

What can I say? It honestly wasn’t my wildest scheme; it was 2015, I was seeing tons of thirsty Sans content on tumblr, I’d actually played Undertale so for once I had some context for THE popular tumblr fandom of the time… aaand honestly, I just thought it would be hilarious to write an entirely earnest sex scene where one of the participants was a literal skeleton. I studied screenwriting pretty seriously in college, I knew how to write dialogue and set up a vague narrative arc, I figured I’d write like 15 chapters and maybe get 50$ from generous readers if i was lucky.

Weirdly, even at the very beginning, this plan seemed to actually play out as I hoped? I was only giving it like 40% effort and I was writing absolute fluff for the most part, but I still picked up a few hundred readers and even got a few donations that permitted me to enjoy both pasta AND sauce at the same time!

The thing is, like I said, that I spent my undergrad years writing and critiquing screenplays. I knew that what I was writing could only be engaging for so long without some force driving the narrative, and it turned out that I couldn’t turn the part of my brain that was constantly analyzing plot structure off. And like… I liked writing fiction again. I’d stopped doing that once the 2008 recession turned all the entry level positions that could eventually lead to a writer’s room gig into unpaid internships, forcing me to abandon my dreams and instead pursue the goal of Being A Rich Corporate Asshole. I was actually pretty good at that last part (still am), but I missed writing fiction; more specifically, I missed writing GOOD fiction. I discovered that in spite of my initial lazy intentions, I couldn’t just keep halfassing it.

So, I decided to full-ass it. I began outlining and seriously working on my character development, and since I was the one writing it, I decided that it would be the kind of story I’d actually want to read - sure, there would still be some fluff, I’d still write a few skeleton sex scenes (and I wasn’t wrong, those WERE hilarious to write), but there would also be action and eldritch horrors and quippy dialogue and a billion plot twists down the road that I’d have to earn by laying the groundwork down up front.

Once I decided to fully commit to telling a story, I started having a ton of fun with it, and the quality improved exponentially…. and now, years down the road, I am the author of a 484k word, 176 chapter undertale fanfic that is currently the 884th most kudos-ed work on Ao3, which doesn’t sound that impressive until you consider that’s 884 out of 8,713,596, which puts it in the top .0001 percent. And that, unless I got the math wrong, is a batshit bonkers insane percentile to be in. It took some fuckin’ WORK, my dudes, but as a result I can now say with full sincerity that I am incredibly proud of the explicit Sans/Reader Undertale fanfic that, as one anon once pointed out, I kind of wrote as a joke for an audience of myself?

Anyway, I’m sharing all this because like after years and years of having this information in my head I just managed to FINALLY explain to @wrexie the exact layout of the location that like 70% of the story takes place in - I never managed to shake the screenwriting instinct to keep the location budget manageable - and now I feel like my soul can finally rest. Unfortunately, I was able to do that by sharing google maps photos of a mansion that I drove by a lot in high school, and it seems super invasive to the owners to plop that in a public post, but if you’ve read it and you FINALLY want to understand where all the rooms are in relation to each other, DM me and I’ll send you a screenshot lol.

Also, if any if this intrigued you, you should probably give the fic a shot, the link’s at the top of this post. As I mentioned, the first few chapters are pure fluff, but the plot starts to pick up steam pretty early on… and then you hit chapter 44, the pandering is officially put to rest, and from that point forward it’s a goddamn blast.

[impalementation]

spike, angel, buffy & romanticism: part 4

part 1: “When you kiss me I want to die”: Angel and the high school seasons

part 2: “Love isn’t brains, children”: Enter Spike as the id

part 3: “Something effulgent”: Season five and the construction of Spike the romantic

* 

“But I can’t fool myself. Or Spike, for some reason.”: Buffy and Spike as a blended self

Before I get into seasons six and seven, it’s worth asking: why would the show do all of this? Why would it spend all of this time developing a supporting villain and joke id character? Why would it give him a romantic arc? I see people say that the writers only gave Spike these storylines because he was popular or they wanted to keep him around, but even that being the case, there was no need to give him the specific arc that they did. It’s more than possible to read meaning into the story that they chose from the array of possible options. 

Here is the thing about the id. It’s not actually something separate from you. It’s not a ravenous monster you can blame your weaknesses on while remaining pure and dignified. The id is part of you. The immediate and enduring appeal of Spike is, I suspect, strongly influenced by the fact that the things the id wants are so very human and sympathetic. His foibles and mistakes are often painfully familiar, even exaggerated through vampirism as they are. In fact, it’s precisely because Spike is allowed to show a full range of reactions to love, because the writing is under less pressure for him to do the “right” or dignified thing, that he can at times be compelling in ways other characters can’t. If Spike just did nasty things, his appeal wouldn’t be much more complicated than the appeal of Angelus, who people tend to like as a villain or storyline rather than as a relatable character. But Spike doesn’t want to dismember nuns or construct elaborate murder tableaux. He wants familiar things like love, identity and meaning, even if the ways he goes about getting them can reflect people’s worst impulses. 

Which brings us to Buffy, and Buffy’s story about growing up. Buffy is Buffy’s show, which means that every writing choice tends to revolve around her arc in one way or another. And this goes for Spike’s storyline even more than most. In the final three seasons of the show, the writing finally engages with how inextricable the id--and all of its impulsive, inarticulate romantic desires--really is from a person’s self. So instead of keeping Spike at a comfortable distance, both Buffy and the writing begin to take him seriously. They begin to invite him in.

Starting in season five, it’s telling how frequently Buffy herself projects on Spike, rather than just the writing setting them up as mirrors. She tells him that he’s the “only one strong enough” to protect her family, and later assigns Dawn specifically to his protection. In “Spiral” she describes him as “the only one besides me that has any chance of protecting Dawn.” This is a very intimate role that she otherwise only assigns to herself (and which is not really based on pure practicality, considering that she’ll later describe Willow as her “big gun”--yet never gives Willow the task of protecting Dawn). She tells him that he cannot love, which is the thing she fears most about herself. Her protests that Spike is a vampire, and thus cannot express or want human things like love, mirror her lamentations that as the Slayer, she cannot have a normal life.

From the Gilliland Gothic double essay:

More than any of her other lovers, Buffy and Spike overlap one another so often that at times their character arcs become nearly indistinguishable. With Angel, Buffy traveled a parallel path in attempting to master self-control. With Riley, her journey ultimately took her in the opposite direction. With Spike, Buffy’s journey is most closely shadowed, in that her interactions with him in many ways can be seen as metaphors for her feelings about herself.

So now Spike is multiple things. On the one hand, he’s the soulless id he’s been since season two. His vampiric behavior represents a morally uninhibited way of reacting to romantic frustrations, among other things. But on the other hand, his vampirism now also marks him as like Buffy, not merely her opposite.* Nor is he only her mirror in the realm of romantic love. The part of him that is a vampire is the part of him that is supernatural (ie, Romantically larger-than-life), that sets him apart from regular people, and dictates how he can and cannot behave. Just like Buffy’s slayerness. His vampirism is what makes him capable of protecting Dawn, while also making him (supposedly, according to Buffy) incapable of human feeling--again, just like Buffy’s slayerness. Instead of Buffy’s Slayer side being aligned with Angelus, who was an unmitigated evil, it becomes aligned with Spike, who is something more complicated. 

*(Though it must be noted that this was a process that began in season four, with the show aligning Spike with the Scoobies by making him a victim of the Initiative. Spike being supernatural suddenly marks him as non-normative, just like the Scoobies, in contrast to the institutional conformity that the Initiative represents. The evolution towards treating the Romantic supernatural as something positive and associated with identity plays a key role in transitioning the show to the more complicated attitudes of the last three seasons.)

This shift in the show’s attitudes towards the id affects how Spike is used. In “Blood Ties” for example, Spike assists Dawn in breaking into the Magic Shop and in “Forever” he helps Dawn resurrect her and Buffy’s mother. In both cases, Spike could be read as embodying impulsive behavior that Buffy is supposed to be better than. Yet both cases specifically involve Spike helping Dawn, who is repeatedly portrayed as Buffy’s human side. As Buffy says in “The Gift”: “[Dawn]’s more than [my sister]. She’s me. The monks made her out of me. [...] Dawn is a part of me. The only part that I--”. In other words, Buffy’s id becomes closely tied to her humanity, even going so far as to become its safeguard. “Blood Ties” ends with Buffy affirming her connection to Dawn, which Spike’s rule-breaking directly enabled, and “Forever” ends with Buffy acknowledging how desperately she wants her mother back too, and becoming closer to Dawn as a result. (Compare to “Lovers Walk”, where Buffy acknowledging her id results in her breaking away from Angel, not drawing closer to anyone). Or in “Intervention”, Spike building the Buffybot directly parallels Buffy’s own anxieties about what she thinks she should be. She thinks she’s losing her ability to love, and that effusive fakery is her only recourse (as she said in “I Was Made to Love You”: “Maybe I could change. [...] I could spend less time slaying, I could laugh at his jokes. I mean men like that right? The joke laughing at?”), a fear that even has some merit, given that her friends cannot tell her and the bot apart. Instead of Buffy and Spike having separate arcs in the episode, Spike learning the difference between real and fake dovetails with Buffy’s own relationship to her realness and fakeness. It turns out that neither of them want a bot version of Buffy. They want real emotion, things like sacrifice and heartfelt gratitude. If even Buffy’s id would let itself be killed for Dawn, then maybe she has nothing to fear from herself. Maybe there is some beauty in the emotional part of her nature that she thinks she must repress.

In other words, part of the writing (and Buffy) fully engaging with romanticism and the id, means engaging with the ways they can be bad and good. There’s this weird thing that happens with Spike as soon as he falls in love with Buffy, where suddenly his actions are more uncomfortable, and to many, off-putting, because their object is Buffy (instead of another vampire like Harmony or Drusilla, who either enjoy the same vampiric things he does, or the audience might be inclined to see as a moral nonentity regardless). His comic id quality becomes somewhat darker and more serious, almost like the way Angel’s early season two darkness becomes more serious after he loses his soul. But at the same time, Spike’s actions are also more intriguing, sympathetic, and even noble...because their object is Buffy. It makes no sense that a soulless vampire should not only fall in love with the Slayer, but genuinely attempt to transform himself into someone worthy of her love. And yet that’s exactly what Buffy inspires him to do. By loving Buffy Spike’s dual nature, and the dual nature of his romanticism, is thrown into relief: it’s something that can be selfish and creepy, yes, but also something that hints at the idea that real romanticism does exist. Something worth feeling romantically about does exist. Thus the writing can at once criticize, say, the way the chivalric mindset conflates love and suffering, while also suggesting that there are kinds of love it’s worth being transformed by. (Meanwhile, Spike’s fumbling bewilderment over how to love Buffy, and what the rules of loving people correctly even are, creates a human middle ground between monstrousness and heroism). By leaning into the way that Buffy and Spike have been used as mirrors for three seasons, and introducing the mythology-bending idea of Spike being in love with Buffy, the writing is able to fully engage with this complicated, contradictory nature of love and romance.

All of which is to say. Spike becomes a potential love interest, and is given a convoluted inner conflict between monstrousness, humanity and heroism, in precisely the season in which Buffy begins to reckon with her own inner conflict between her darker impulses, her human reality, and her supernatural role. It’s no coincidence that season five opens with Dracula, an icon of romantic vampire mythology, tempting Buffy with darkness and promising her insight into her nature. Or that a vampire kidnaps Dawn--again, her human half--in the next episode. Or that the season’s antagonist is a super-strong blonde woman who wants to destroy Dawn instead of protect her. Or that she says goodbye to Riley, the boyfriend who embodied her hopes for a more normative way of being (notice how Riley is progressively destabilized by everything non-normative about Buffy’s life, and provokes those anxieties Buffy expresses in “I Was Made to Love You”). Over and over in season five, Buffy fears that her Slayer half is cold, destructive, and otherwise dangerous. That these Romantic things like gods and vampires have it in for Buffy’s vulnerable humanity. Yet Buffy’s vampire id simultaneously gives lie to these fears by proving itself capable of heroism and genuine human feeling.

In other words, Spike becomes a potential love interest in a season that treats the Romantic--ie the grand and mythical--as something more than just an attractive lie to be disabused of. Rather, the question that season five seems to posit to me, and which will not be fully answered until the end of season seven, is this: once you do clear away the attractive lies, once you accept the hard realities, once you’ve seen the darkest underbellies, what are the things that are left that are truly grand and beautiful? What are the stories that are really worth telling, and the heroes that are really worth having?

And the show asks and answers these questions on both a very personal level, and a more meta, systemic level. On the personal level, Buffy and Spike are forced to confront their illusions not just about the world, but about themselves. They are made to ask themselves what constitutes a heroic role or a demonic weakness, versus basic, unromantic humanity. And on the meta level, the show asks questions about our expectations for how both love stories and chosen hero stories are supposed to go.

part 5: “Everything used to be so clear”: Season six and the agony of the real

[circular-bircular]

Here’s my thoughts!

Disconnect from real life: Agreed. So many people in these servers are not touching grass. So many are stuck entirely just in conversations amongst similarly traumatized people, which isn’t helping them at all. It’s great to be able to bounce ideas off each other, but often it’s groups of people triggering each other left and right.

Misinformation: Strongly agreed. So many CDD spaces don’t… actually know anything about CDDs beyond their own experiences (and plural specific spaces are worse). So many people haven’t don’t any legwork by doing research. I feel self conscious sometimes because I also haven’t dug as much into research as I’d like, but I realize more and more that I’ve done quite a bit more than some others out there.

Treating DID like it’s fun: This is where I start to disagree. I used to treat my disorder with the severity I felt it deserved. It took so much from me. But… I cannot imagine being that way now, especially after making a lot of headway on recovery in recent years. I need to be able to have some fun with it. There’s a fantastic quote I love from a series I loved as a child: “I’ve looked at the world for quite a few years now and I’ve found that, if I don’t laugh, I’ll probably end up crying.” Is there really anything wrong with having fun with it? Shouldn’t people with DID be allowed to experience some joy? I agree that there is a lot of focus on enjoying your system and loving your system, to a detrimental degree — people should discuss the hard times more — but I also think there needs to be a balance of the two.

Children: Strongly disagree. I also love that this is the only point so far that even mentions endogenic systems. Anyways. Children 10-14 can still have DID. It develops from trauma seemingly from before 9 years old. A 14 year old could easily develop parts in that time. I personally know of someone who was diagnosed by medical professionals with a CDD at age 14, due to the circumstances of his life. It’s entirely possible to happen. Furthermore, given the advent of the internet, children are learning about abuse and diagnosis criteria far earlier than ever before. It’s not without reason for a child to learn about their disorder earlier than the research typically indicates. (Also: the “personality is still developing until 25” was not only a misinterpretation of “your brain is still developing until you’re 25,” but it’s also a completely arbitrary number due to the upward age of those included in an fMEI study. The thing that seemed to be “finished developing” was the frontal lobe. Modern science has completely debunked this claim, stating that the brain never stops developing.)

(Side note on the above one: are children in CDD spaces an issue? Yes! Just not for the reason you described here.)

Microlabels: Agree and disagree I suppose. Agree because, yes, if you don't label yourself as specific things, you can get hounded in certain spaces. But largely, I have seen this trend dip off. And... well. Disagree because, what is it my business? If someone else wants to label themselves to the high heavens, more power to them. I'll mention how forcing labels onto myself hurt me, but if they're certain it's awesome for them, then I'm happy for them. It isn't any skin off my back. (And fully agreed that "reclaiming terms" from endogenic systems is stupid, but not because of the type of label -- moreso that you can't.... reclaim that. That's not what reclaiming means.)

Sexualizing: ...??? I'm so confused by this. Are there really people out there saying shit like, "Mmm... Caretakers are so sexy. I love me a good Gatekeeper." If so, that's fucked up. People will absolutely stereotype these roles (and that does make some sense -- many do follow similar trends, enough that the role label got made in the first place) and genuinely, as long as they're open to other "types" of those roles existing, that's fine. But if this is just about people... enjoying sex... I mean. Okay? That's allowed. That's always been allowed.

Thanks for providing actual discussion topics to the syscourse tag.

I'm really starting to dislike the plural community/ies* online and I'll explain why.

*this is mostly based on DID/OSDD discord servers rather than Tumblr however some of these points still apply.

I do apologise for sounding like a cranky old lady going off about 'back in my day' but this has been bugging me

Mass disconnect from real life experiences; a lot of things I see on DID groups scream of spending far too much time online with very little outside interaction.

Misinformation and inability to read, research and explore the connotations of your own disorder/the disorder claimed.

Treating a SEVERE TRAUMA DISORDER like a "fun lil quirk." No. This is not like that "which disney princess am I?" personality quiz, this is a legitimate, detrimental disorder, disrupts every day life and that can and does kill. People pick up on the 'fun' things of plurality like 'having friends in your head' but avoid the nasty parts like suicidal alters, or they treat it as a convenient excuse to get out of taking responsibility for their actions.

Children claiming to be DID systems. I'm talking 10-14 year olds. If you're under the age of 25, your personality is still developing. you're going to be confused whether or not you have a disorder. Trust me, please, you will regret claiming to be an endogenic system when you're older. I can almost guarantee it. You'll look back and cringe and ask yourself why you claimed that as a young teen (unless you got a DID/OSDD diagnosis later).. I did shit as a young teen I cringe at constantly. Heck, I happily claimed a whole ton of problematic MOGAI labels (no, I am not proud...) with very little regard for their validity outside little corners of the internet

Push for use of microlabels (and god forbid you choose not to). And reclaiming "endogenic" terms. Do.. we really need a name for an alter based on a song...? I don't think so and I'm yet to see something that changes my mind.

Sexualising of specific alter types and systems in general.

I'm open to discussion (polite discussion) and additions :)

[ibelongtowrath]

Hot Springs - Lucifer x Reader

Warnings // 18+/NSFW, praise in the form of “good girl,” oral sex, female reader Word count: 2.6k

Happy hot springs theme day 💦 Here’s another Lucifer piece about getting eaten out at the hot springs because horny writing brain go brrrr. I hope you enjoy. I am also terrible at coming up with titles

I can’t sleep.

You groan inwardly and sigh, turning your body to stare at the ceiling, your eyes practically glazing over. To your left, Mammon snores loudly; a sound akin to a chainsaw, and something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

“Ya gotta sleep next to me, MC! If any of my brothers even try to touch a hair on your head, I’ll kill ‘em.”

“Fine, fine,” you agreed hurriedly, already pulling the blanket over your head, gripped with exhaustion. “Goodnight, Mammon.”

I should have brought fucking ear plugs.

You roll over to your right side, where Levi sleeps peacefully, clutching his Ruri-chan body pillow close to his chest. You’re pretty sure you can hear him mumbling her name every so often, and your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, knowing that the likelihood of actually achieving a deep, restful sleep is growing lower by the second as you inhale deeply.

With a groan, you rise, feet padding softly across the smooth, wooden floor. Perhaps a soak in the onsen would make you drowsy and relaxed enough to actually be able to sleep through all the surrounding noise. Grabbing a towel and pausing briefly before leaving the room, you look down at yourself. A minuscule, though beautifully ornate silk robe barely covers your naked body; although it was customary to enter the hot spring completely nude, you couldn’t help but feel extremely self-conscious. Thankfully, Diavolo had rented out the entire place for the night, so no other beings were there, save for the demon brothers.

And, thankfully, everyone else was still asleep. As much as you love the demon brothers, sometimes it felt amazing to have a few waking moments to yourself, and the idea of spending that alone time in a steamy, relaxing hot spring? Bliss.

Carefully opening the sliding doors leading to the spring, careful to not wake anyone, you step out into the onsen. Steam rises steadily from the hot water, caressing your face as a slight breeze carries wisps of it towards you. The tension already begins to loosen from your neck and shoulders, taking in the sights of the artfully-placed rocks and trees around you. Slowly, you walk towards the stone steps leading into the water and dip your feet in, testing the temperature. Perfect.

You look back over your shoulder for a brief moment before you begin to untie your robe and open the front. Despite the warmth radiating from the water, a shiver passes through your body at the sudden exposure to the still slightly cool night air. You shrug the robe the rest of the way off, folding it carefully and setting it on a nearby bench, along with the towel.

Knowing it is customary to be clean before entering the spring, you wash off at the bathing station situated near the sliding doors, careful to remove any traces of soap before finally stepping into the hot spring. A deep, satisfied sigh escapes you as your body submerges beneath the warm, tranquil waters. Steam rises up towards you and your eyes close as you sit, tipping your head back to rest against the side of the spring. Your face turns up to the perpetually night sky of the Devildom, the light of the moon illuminating everything around you in an almost ethereal glow; stars, scattered across the sky, glitter like moon dust, looking almost as if they’re sparkling.

“Are my brothers causing mischief, my dear MC?”

The voice rings out, disturbing your fleeting serenity as you startle with a gasp. Your eyes open quickly and you look around in a panic for the source of the mysterious voice before your gaze settles on the demon standing at the edge of the spring, wrapped in a short, blue robe.

“L-Lucifer?” you manage to gasp in surprise. “I thought you were asleep. What are you-”

“I should be asking you the same question, my dear. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Lucifer retorts. He can sense your shock, and he smirks inwardly, keeping his expression neutral.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you mumble. “Mammon snores like a chainsaw, Levi was having dreams about doing who knows what to his body pillow, and I just...wanted to relax…”

“An excellent place you’ve chosen to come to do so, then. Although we are in the Devildom, Lord Diavolo had to have an onsen of our own developed after experiencing a traditional one in your world, in Japan. The waters here are not geothermal as they naturally are in Japanese onsens; however, magic can replace virtually anything we are unable to replicate. The effects are still much the same, as evidenced by your relaxed state before I, unfortunately, disturbed you.”

The smirk tugs Lucifer’s lips upwards, though he quickly replaces it with a chuckle and a cordial smile, his eyes closing briefly before they open again, setting his intense crimson gaze upon you. Realizing you are fully naked beneath the steaming water, the blood rushing to your face and making the temperature of the water seem almost chilly in comparison to the heat in your cheeks. Thankfully, the water is opaque, masking your nudity, though you can’t help but squeeze your legs together and crossing your arms over your chest in a feeble attempt to mask the fact.

Lucifer chuckles softly once more, moving to loosen the strings of his robe.

“Would you mind if I join you, MC? It seems I am in need of some relaxation as well,” he asks, his voice a low timbre, as though teasing in its slight lilt. “Though it is not customary for men and women to bathe together in Japanese hot springs, we do not typically adhere to that rule here. Of course, I will respect your wishes if you decline and wish to bathe privately.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” you stutter in response. “Feel free.”

“As you wish, then.”

Your eyes widen, gaze transfixed as Lucifer finally loosens the knot holding his robe together in the front. The silken, azure fabric hangs loosely on either side, and the prideful demon smirks once more, noting your enraptured attention. Teasingly, he slides the robe off his well-defined shoulders, pausing to tilt his head and flash you a knowing smile.

“Enjoying the view?” he purrs.

With a loud cough and a swallow, you turn your head to gaze directly in front of you, studying the intricate shrubbery and not dignify his remark with a response. 

Don’t look, don’t you dare look. 

The heat rushes back to your cheeks and you force yourself to tilt your head back, only relaxing when you hear Lucifer step into the spring. Bringing your head back forward, you see him seated across from you in the steaming waters, a wolfish grin on your face.

“I should come here more often,” Lucifer remarks casually. “It is absolutely lovely not to have someone getting into trouble and disturbing my peace and quiet.”

He’s naked under the water. Naked. I wonder what he- 

You feel your body tense at the intrusive thought and are unable to stop yourself from groaning softly, clapping a hand over your mouth as you realize you’ve completely given yourself away. Lucifer’s grin deepens, and he leans forward as those beautiful, deep garnet eyes bore into yours.

“You look a bit tense there, my dear,” he coos. “I can offer a shoulder massage if you’d like.”

“Oh, u-um… that would be nice,” you admit.

“Come a bit closer then, my dear. I may be a strong demon, but even I cannot stretch my body that far,” he teases.

Nodding slowly, you rise ever so slightly, keeping your arms tightly crossed in front of your chest and careful not to expose any more of your body from beneath the opaque water. Up close, you realize Lucifer is even more handsome, and you can feel your heart pounding beneath your rib cage, thump, thump, thump. You turn around, back facing him, grateful for the sounds of the small stream of water flowing steadily in a fountain by the spring masking the sound of your heartbeat, loud enough that surely he would be able to hear.

He brings his hands to your shoulders, moving closer. At the touch of his hands and the feel of his proximity, you start. Chuckling, Lucifer begins to knead the tense muscles with careful motions, using his thumbs to work out the tight knots he can feel beneath your skin.

“Uncross your arms for me, my dear,” he instructs. “You are carrying so much tension, and I cannot help you properly when you are not relaxed.”

With a sigh, you drop your arms to your sides, resting them in your lap. Lucifer’s touch is relaxing, satisfying, and you can feel the tension begin to melt from your shoulders as he continues to work the tender muscles. Blissfully, your head drops back, hair fanning out in the water as a soft groan, almost like a moan falls from your lips. The demon smirks as he continues his ministrations, moving even closer to you, though you barely notice the heat of his body nearly right against yours, your eyes closed in peaceful relaxation.

“That’s a good girl, stay just like that…,” he instructs.

Lucifer’s praise causes your heart to race even faster, your eyes opening as you feel your thighs pressing together. He notes your reaction, leaning forward to press a soft kiss into the delicate skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder. You shudder in pleasure, letting out a definite moan this time, finding yourself leaning back against him, your back nearly pressed to his chest. Grinning against your skin, he nibbles gently at first before biting down a bit firmer, his hands continuing their work on your shoulders.

“Such a good girl…”

Lucifer’s hands move from your shoulders to trace a path down the generous curve of your waist, his mouth finding purchase on your now relaxed shoulder as he presses another kiss there. One hand reaches up to thread his fingers into your hair lightly, tugging your head to the side before crashing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss, much like the water and the skin of your bodies. The kiss is deep, intimate; it speaks a thousand words full of want, of need, of dark desire without a single utterance. Your tongues dance with one another as soft gasps of pleasant surprise and arousal escape you and him, your thighs squeezing together under the water, now wet in more ways than simply being submerged beneath it.

Biting your lip and pulling away from the kiss, Lucifer’s hand moves to your bare breast, groping it lightly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger, savoring your sweet moans. His cock twitches, already hard and pressing against your back. Grinning, he tugs at your hair again, tilting your head back until you look up at him; eyes half-lidded, nearly glazed over and blown-out with lust.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” Lucifer teases. “I offer you a relaxing massage, and you turn it into anything but. I suppose I’ll have to find another way to ease the tension in your body. Especially-”

He pauses, moving his hands to caress the soft, fleshy skin of your inner thighs, briefly teasing a few fingers between your legs before pulling them away, relishing your lewd gasps.

“-right here. Yes, it seems you are very much still tense. My, my, we certainly will have to remedy that, won’t we, my naughty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, pressing your back harder against him. 

Suddenly, you are teeming with need, nearly keening at the thought of having Lucifer between your legs. In one swift movement, he picks you up, quickly turning you around to lift you out of the water and set you on the side of the hot spring. Feeling the sudden difference in temperature, you shudder. Droplets of water glisten in the shining moonlight as they travel down your body. He grins at your shudder as he begins laying you back gently and spreading your legs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before biting down into the skin, pausing briefly to admire the indentation of his teeth that will surely welt and leave a mark behind later.

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be sure to warm you up,” Lucifer says, biting down once more. “Now, lay back and relax for me.”

Obeying his command, you lay your back flat against the cool stone, your heart continuing to thump like someone is revving an engine. Lucifer teases a few fingers between your legs, his thumb circling your swollen clit, eliciting a loud, lewd cry as he does so. Pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone, he gently sucks the skin into his mouth and biting into the skin there, intent on leaving more marks. He moves to the other side, repeating his actions before lowering himself down between your legs to your wet, dripping core, practically quivering in anticipation. He smiles before his tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your core until he reaches your clit, swirling it tantalizingly slow around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Lucifer’s lips close around it, sucking. Your back arches, reaching your hands forward to weave your fingers into his hair. Bucking your hips against his face, he smirks, moaning into your skin and continuing to suck on your clit, alternating between stimulating it with his tongue and lightly grazing his teeth across it.

“Good girl, so good for me,” Lucifer moans. “You taste so fucking sweet, pet.”

Sliding two fingers inside you, he curls and pumps them skillfully to press against your sweet spot. A louder, more high-pitched moan falls from your lips, taking his name with it as it echoes across the otherwise serene tranquility of the onsen.

“L-Lucifer- ah, it feels so good-”

Frantic with desire, you begin to roll your hips rhythmically towards his face, increasing the pressure of his tongue and fingers. Lucifer slides a third finger into you, desperately savoring the delicious sounds of your desperation as he, too, can’t stop himself from moaning into your skin. He laps at your sweet essence, eager to taste all of you, to wet his cock between your tight, warm walls and help ease his own tension between his hips, a fire stirring in his belly.

“Lucifer!” Crying out his name in a wanton gasp, you begin to feel yourself tighten around his fingers. “Lucifer, I-I’m going to cum-”

“Good girl,” Lucifer groans. “Cum hard for me, princess.”

His praise pushes you over the edge, immense pleasure washing over your body in waves as you writhe against the stone, arching your back. Your body jerks forward, slightly, and your lips part to scream in pleasure, his name falling from your lips over and over, growing in volume and pitch with every syllable. Grinning, Lucifer slowly slides his fingers out of you, pressing a kiss to your clit as he pulls back. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, aching for the sensation of him filling you once more. He reaches for your arm to slowly pull you up to a sitting position.

“Now…”

Standing from the water and moving his hands to your hips, he lifts you up to pull you close to him, hips perched on the edge of the spring against the rock. Your bare chests press together as he lifts your legs, resting them against his shoulders. He slides his cock into you with ease, and he groans, tipping his head back briefly at the feeling of your wet, warm heat gripping him so tightly. You moan, fingers curling against the wet stone beneath you as you finally gain the much-need stretch of his cock buried between your legs.

“I believe I have some tension of my own that needs to be worked out.”

[poisonousquinzel]

https://lady-ha-ha.tumblr.com/post/160715688748/is-that-comic-before-the-reboot-and-which-one-is

(I have not read this comic) Is this true? (if so, ivy deserves someone better).

Post

Kay, first off both of those people are Jarley shippers so take everything they say with a grain of salt and then some, cause no. that part isn't about how much Harley loves Joker and will always choose him over Ivy. Literally you can tell ops don't know what they're talking about cause her whole thing in those issues is going to kill him for years of graphic abuse but ultimately falls back with him once she’s face to face with him.

Like wow, congrats on missing the fucking point again but not surprised from people who ship her with The Fucking Joker.

also, ffs, can anyone please have basic comprehension skills and realize that Harley and Ivy are both fucked up sometimes because they’ve got issues and that’s not comparable to Joker’s long ass history of graphic and disgusting abuse.

Harley and Ivy are villains, they're not a wholesome cookie cutter, White Picket Fence, super vanilla ship with no bad moments. They're both bad guys with a fuck ton of trauma that they both have to work through, and have done so at this point. 

Gotham City Sirens was published between 2009 - 2011, Harley and Ivy weren't blatantly romantic at this point nor had they had anywhere near the development that they’ve had at this point.

Like don’t go into Harlivy content expecting them to be the perfect wlw rep with no flaws during their arcs from BTAS to current time cause that’s just not realistic. They’re both deeply flawed people who’ve got a fuck ton of trauma that they need to (and have) worked through. 

I have talked about the BTAS issues here and this post is good at explaining them too. 

X

X

Harlivy is not and has never been a purely wholesome, goody-goody ship. They’re messy, they have issues, and they have bad moments sometimes, but they both worked through their seperate trauma and came out stronger and better because at the end of the day, they care about each other. 

Harlivy has messy, toxic moments sometimes, but they’re not, and have never been, abusive. There’s a difference between unhealthy moments and a ship being abusive. 

That’s completely different to how Joker acts Constantly, because he does not care that his actions towards Harley are abusive, because he doesn’t give a shit about her. 

He enjoys hurting her. He enjoys ruining her. 

Jarley has always been intended to be written and shown as a domestically abusive relationship.

This is also the first instance where it's directly referenced that there's something more than platonic between her and Ivy, other than the reference in Batgirl Adventures. 

Gotham City Sirens is also not connected to any verses.

This didn’t happen in the timeline we’re in rn with Harley Quinn (2014)/(2016)/(2021).

Comic timelines and shit are stupid and make everything more confusing and awful and I hate it sdfjdksksdkjsd

-

this is gonna be a long post since ops wanna just cut and paste random bits of the issues like jarley stans always do (cause jarley never has good moments that aren’t entirely surrounded by him abusing her) I’m going to show them in full context. *added a keep reading cause it is a lot

(All panels shown are from #15, #18, #19, #20, #21, #23, #24, #25)

So, Harley's entire thing at this point in the GCS comic in that she's been triggered by flashbacks of Joker's abuse and she breaks into Arkham with the intent to kill him.

The entire thing in these issues is showing her smarts and how she knows people's trump cards to get under their skin so she can break into Arkham. 

She’s trained to identify these things in people and she's fucking good at pushing people's buttons. 

this is also just one of my fav Harley covers so I wanted to show it jsdjksdks

“Trump cards. Everyone has one. Places where the armor we build around ourselves is weakest.” 

She’s right. And it’s now shown that Harley’s willing to use those below the belt trump cards if she has to.  

And frankly, I’d say this is worse than what she says to Ivy. And I’m not surprised she did it. She didn’t want to, she tried to get him to just open the door - 

“Don’t make me do this, Aaron. There are some secrets that should stay hidden. Things you should never learn about your own life.” 

but she’s also entirely fueled by rage and the desire to kill Joker. She came here for a reason and she’s not leaving until she’s done it.

“I’m going to kill you. For everything you’ve done to me. All the times you’ve made me feel useless and small. For all the times I will never forget. For all the things I can never forgive. All the memories -”

“Hello, Harley. I’ve missed you.” 

“Memories. That’s all I have left. The past is gone and all I have is... memories. 

Memories.

Memory. 

Gone.

I guess I too have a trump card.”

“Oh, Ivy. You know exactly what my answer is going to be. But you’re hoping you’re wrong, aren’t you?”

She’s also right about this, they already mentioned this in #18.

“How did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re the one choosing a man over her girls.”

“Are you kidding me? You would never say that to Harley, and we both know she’d dumb us in a flat second if Joker called her.”

“Hey! That’s not fair-- Actually, that’s probably true.”

“The difference is, she can’t help it. You can. And she’s working on it. You’re not working on it.” 

“Too easy, Ivy. Too easy. I know your weak spots. Now I just need to push.”

This is exactly what she’s been doing since the starting point of this post. She’s still in that mindset and she knows she can’t beat her on a regular battle field. Neither of them can. 

“Like I said-- You beat me in any level playing field. But I don’t fight on those fields.” 

Harley’s biggest strength as a villain is her ability to completely mentally stall her opponents and learn their weak spots. She wouldn’t win against the majority of the Big Bads if she didn’t fight on a different field than they are. 

so, like yeah, out of context what she says to Ivy seems awful and completely screwed up, and it is, but it’s also built up really well and it’s completely in character for her at this point in her fall during these issues. 

Is what she did fucked? absolutely. It’s not painted that it’s not. 

Ivy Literally Goes To Kill Her For It.

In the end of this all three of them are recaptured by Catwoman and Batman and that’s where we’re starting off at again. 

“Oh, Harley.

The only human I’ve ever called a friend.

To what lengths will I go? Where are my own limits? She is the Strangler fig. And I am the tree, choking underneath. 

Without me, she could never grow. 

But without her, I would fall if I grew too tall.” 

“Will she ever stand by herself? 

Will she ever be ready? 

She is in throes of madness. She sees him, her brain flooding with adrenaline, it makes her excited, nervous, then the feelings start to fade, and she needs more. And more. 

She sees it as passion. She sees it as love. 

But it’s not. It’s addiction. And she’s relapsing.” 

Ivy is well aware of the nature of their relationship. She’s not stupid and she’s been shown already to know that it’s something that takes time. It’s not a one off break up and it’s over. That’s not how abusve relationships work. 

What do I do?

I could use my pheromones to alter her brain chemistry.

I could leave her behind abandoning her to the wilds of her own mind.

I could kill her right now.

Show her how red Nature can be.

There's one other option.

It would require patience.

Even love.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

"You have one chance to answer this."

I know, if she agrees, she'll be doing it for revenge. For him.

"She put us behind bars."

But maybe if I get away from this place, if I give her something else to think about. Maybe she can break the cycle. But it has to be her choice.

"I'm going to kill her. Come with me."

So yeah, it’s definitely not a just “Harley hurts her and runs off with Joker and it’s just a plain ol’ her choosing him over everyone and that’s that.” 

Jarley shippers love to just reduce all her scenes and arcs down to their “epic love” and shit, but that’s taking away literally everything about her and reducing it down to the 3 panels that they’re “cute” in. Her arc in this part is fucking heartbreaking to read.

And Ivy damn well knows what’s going on with her. She’s smart and she’s the one that’s been there throughout all of this. She found her in the park after he shot her out of a rocket. 

And she knows it’ll take time for Harley to get over and through his manipulation, that’s just how it works with abusive relationships. 

But she’s also not forgiving at first, she’s mad and rightfully so, until she sees the sate of Harley’s cell and realizes how bad her addiction is at that time.

A lot of the unhealthy moments on Harley’s side when it comes to them are directly caused from the effects of being in an abusive relationship with Joker. Because she’s always in this area of her journey in those moments. She’s never fully over him or emancipated. 

And that’s realistic. It’s hard sometimes to be friends with someone who’s in abusive relationships like theirs, having to watch them return to that person time and time again and it’s frustrating after a while. 

I know from personal experience, it’s really hard to watch someone you care about go back or forgive someone that continues to hurt them. 

But abuse victims desperately need a support system outside of their abuser. It’s a crucial part of being able to escape, because when they do try to get out they need someone there or they’ll literally have no where to go but back into their abuser’s arms.

It’s heartbreaking and it’s really rough for everyone effected, but that’s just how it is most of the time. Especially in their case, as they’re not just regular folk dealing with this. 

If she doesn’t have Ivy, Harley has no one else to go to but Joker, on more than just an emotional level. 

She’s lost her job. Her income. Her home. Her livelihood. Her everything.

Most of the time she has no other choice but to return to a life of crime after she’s released from Arkham because she can’t get a job, she’s a notorious criminal and she’s got a lot of issues that don’t just disappear with a bit of therapy. 

She has no other choice but to return to Joker because the other alternative is the streets. At least she knows what to expect with him. 

And that’s not even getting into the manipulation, gaslighting and degrading abuse that he drills into her constantly. 

He’s made her believe she’s not anything without him. That she’s not smart or useful or anything. 

And that’s why it’s so damn important for her to have a support system and why he’s so damn against Ivy. 

Because Ivy is the good voice on her shoulder telling her he’s wrong and that she doesn’t deserve that. 

-

And on Ivy’s side, she’s aware she gets very near cutting off all parts of her humanity. 

She’s a plant goddess, she’s insanely powerful and she feels everything through the green. Frankly, she’s not even on the same playing field as these villains. She’s significanty more powerful than Harley and Joker. 

Her connection to Harley is what keeps her humanity in tack, because despite everything, she does care about her. She was the first person she let in, the first person Ivy called a friend. 

The person that was able to get through to her in #14/#15 when she was losing herself. The one that was able to get through to her that the dude was manipulating her. 

“Ivy, I know you think you love this guy... but you’re just gonna end up strapped to his rocket!”

She had to knock her out for the dude to trust her / not attack them anymore. But Harley got through to her by mentioning how they first met in the park when she saved her after Joker shot her off in a rocket.

And Ivy is understandable turned off towards humans considering her origin and trauma around that. 

She’s got a lot of trust issues.

But both of them work through their seperate traumas over the years because their affection for each other is stronger than the issues their trauma has given them.

-

and also, sometimes, they just have shit writers. that’s an issue overall in comic fandoms. Some writers just fucking suck at getting any of the characters right, let alone LGBT characters, who’re notoriously treated like garbage by DC.