#if you actually ANALYZED his actions | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kodzubaby · 18 days ago

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how it begins

first part

all characters aged-up. set after the manga. katsuki is 29 years old, while reader is 28.

katsuki's coming.

your heart thudded against your chest as you stared up at the ceiling, the soft pink glow of your bedside lamp washing the room in warmth. fifteen minutes. that's all the time you had before katsuki comes. you could already imagine him to be standing at your door, arms probably crossed, scowl etched into his face like always.

you sat up slowly, still hugging the pink bunny stuff toy he gave you all those years ago. your mind is spiraling in every direction. you know he won't be angry. despite how angry he always looks, he's the type to analyze things before moving into action. and katsuki has known your desire of making a family since you were young. always envisioning yourself to be a loving mother because you never had one. but you can't help but overthink.

when the knock came, you jumped. you didn’t even have to ask who it was, katsuki always knocks in the same way—two sharp raps. you padded to the door barefoot, hoodie too big, hair a mess, hugging the pink bunny stuff toy like an emotional support plushie, and opened the door.

katsuki stood there in his black hoodie and sweatpants, while holding a plastic bag. he just got out of his shift when he got your call and immediately changed out of his hero suit.

he looked at you for a moment, eyes flicking to your face, then down to the bunny you were still holding. “…you still sleep with that thing?”

you huff, ever the sassy and bratty, the attitude that allowed you to stomach katsuki's behavior and actually stay by his side. “it's soft."

"soft? you're just being a sappy shit." he stepped inside, kicked off his shoes, and made his way to your couch like he owned the place—which, in a way, he did. he’d been in every corner of your life for as long as you could remember.

you follow him to the couch and smack him with the bunny. "what, i can't love your gifts now?!"

"the fuck, woman?!" katsuki gave you a harsh glare but didn't do anything back as he placed the plastic bag on the table and started to pull out everything from inside it.

"oohhh, what did you buy?" you sat beside him as you watch him pull out the food.

"some shit you like. you're being a fucking emotional mess, thought you'd like a dose of shitty chocolates." he spat like he's disgusted by the thought of chocolates. katsuki has always be a spice person, while you're more of a sweet person. always eating chocolates and strawberry drinks.

"aww, thanks, kats." you reached out for a bar of chocolate and immediately unwraped it.

just as you bit on the chocolate bar, katsuki spoke. "...you serious about what you said on the phone?"

you swallow the chocolate bar and put it down. "mmhm, been thinking about it. i want a family. but i can't have that yet cuz i don't have a husband, but i want to have a child." you laugh awkwardly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

he let out a slow breath. “you want a kid. and you want me to be the father.”

you look up at him. "i wanna restate what i said earlier, kats." you look at him in the eye. "i asked you about this not because you’re my last option, but because i trust you. more than anyone. and if I’m gonna do this alone, i at least want to know that the father is a good person—and is someone i care about."

he stared at you, something unreadable in his gaze. then, quietly, “you ever think maybe i'd wanna be more than just a donor?”

you blinked at him, stunned. “what?”

he let out a breath, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “look… i've been thinking about that shit too. not the whole ‘get someone pregnant’ part, but like… a family. i'm almost thirty. it’s been on my mind.”

you giggled. "i thought the only thought you have is being the number 1 hero."

as you said this, katsuki promptly took a few strand of your hair and tug on it. "what the fuck, dumbass? we're having a serious conversation."

you laugh loudly as you pull your hair away from his hand. "i'm sorry!! hahaha! okay okay seriously, you're thinking about starting a family too?"

katsuki sighs and leans back on the couch, “i’ve dated, but nothing ever sticks. and if i’m gonna have a family… if i’m gonna raise a kid and do all the hard shit that comes with it… i want to do it with someone i actually know. someone i trust.”

“are you—are you serious?”

“dead serious, dumbass.” he turns his head to look at your face. “if we’re doing this, we’re doing this together. no 'just get me pregnant and leave.' i want the kid. i want a family, and i wanna do it with you."

you bit your lip, unsure. "are you sure? it's—it's a huge responsibility..."

"dumbass." katsuki rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead. "from the start, you think i'm just gonna let you take my sperm, watch you get pregnant and do all the difficult shit alone?"

you shake your head. no, katsuki isn't like that. he has never been the type to do things half-way.

"there you have your answer, dumbass."

"stop calling me dumbass." you pout, clutching the bunny plush closer to your chest.

"i'll keep calling you dumbass 'cuz you're being a dumbass right now."

you roll your eyes at his attitude but decided to focus on the important matter. "so, we're seriously doing this? together?"

katsuki nods. “yeah, together. doctor appointments, weird cravings, middle-of-the-night breakdowns—whatever it is, i'm in. i'm gonna be the father. from day one.”

a silence falls between you, heavy but no longer uncertain. he’s always been this way—gruff, loud, brutally honest. but underneath that sharpness is someone who shows up, someone who cares.

you nod, slowly. “okay.”

he huffs. “okay.”

then, after a beat, “guess we should start looking at clinics or something.”

you blink, confused. “huh? why?"

he smirks. “what? do you know when your next ovulation is?"

you laugh, tears finally spilling—relief, fear, and a little bit of something warm and new. “god, you’re the worst.”

“you've known that since we were three." he says, lips twitching.

and maybe that’s how it begins—not with romance or grand gestures, and definitely not in the traditional way. but with two people who’ve always chosen each other. who still do.

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a/n: idk if i delivered but thanks for loving the first part and hopefully this one too!

taglist: @yandereii @ahahadumbo @queendynamight2001 @xanneeeyyyy @starlightanyaaa @asillyduck15 @2elusional @fxnfandxmmp4 @ettesxythia @casualdomo @qyuin

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goorgeousz · 2 months ago

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luther | aaron hotchner

after hours au

luther | aaron hotchner

after hous au

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!female!reader

summary: during a case you realize hotch knows you more than you imagined.

content/tw: sexism (from a captain), mentions of killing and torture, reader not liking to be vulnerable, reader flirting with hotch, hotch being protective (<3), deep subjects, fluff!!

word count: 2.8k

a/n: my requests are open! Not only for this au, and not only for hotch! i really liked how this one turned out, hope you enjoy it too <3

this is a part of a little series! you can read it as standalones but if you want some background, this is part 1 and part 2.

after hours masterlist

main masterlist

“JJ and Morgan, go to Ashley’s parent’s house. Reid and Rossi, check with the coroner. The rest come with me to the PD” Hotch announced, still on the plane after debriefing the case. The team agreed and went back to individually analyzing the case files.

A few months passed since you joined the BAU, and you already felt like you had always been there. The team was great and you bonded almost immediately.

At first, Hotch didn’t trust you fully. Not that he thought you were unqualified — he would never accept anyone but the best on his team —, but after what happened between you, he felt like he had to be even more careful. Not just because of you, but because of him too. All of his decisions — always made after a lot of pondering — had to be rethought at least twice. He feared somehow mistreating you, or even the opposite. He was scared of letting himself treat you differently because of what happened. To end up ruining your career, and obviously his too.

It only took him one case. Less than that, actually. At the very first time you worked together, on a kidnapping case in a small town in Nevada, he realized just how professional you truly were. He obviously read your resume — very obsessively so — but seeing you in action in person was a whole other story. Despite your playful and flirtatious demeanor, you didn’t let your emotions and personal beliefs influence your job — at least for the most part. On the contrary, you used them as a mechanism to improve yourself and your skills

You were tougher than you appeared to be — never being underdressed, always with at least one red item on display. You fought tooth and nail for the team, believing truly that everything worked out in the end. You were kind, respectful, thoughtful and appreciative with everyone who crossed paths with you, what made you the perfect partner to help him deal with the public.

“Agent Hotchner?” one of the officers approached him as soon as the team arrived at the station.

“Exactly.” he shook the man’s hand, introducing you and Emily right after.

“Let me take you to the conference room, your team can stay there” he said kindly, guiding you through the bullpen.

…

Later that morning, while Emily was discussing strategies with the rest of the team, you and Hotch went to the captain’s office, who had just returned from a press conference with the public to discuss the case.

“Sir” Hotch said as soon as he stepped into the office, introducing himself and you shortly after. The captain glanced at you up and down, and winked knowingly at Hotch.

“Atta boy.” he smiled, nodding approvingly and smiling like they knew something you didn’t.

Aaron's reaction to this was the same reaction he had for everything: stoically ignoring the teasing.

“She’s extremely qualified, indeed.” he said, trying to end the subject. But before he could managed to explain his thoughts on the case, the captain interrupted him.

“And quite a view, if you know what I mean.” he winked. You were about to snap at him, but Hotch was faster.

“Graduated in forensic psychology, major in communication and experienced in sex crimes. Given the case we’re currently working on, I really don’t see anyone more qualified.” he took the lead, slightly puffing his chest and holding his chin high, proudly standing up for his team members — especially for you.

The captain just laughed, raising both hands in mock surrender “You guys can’t take a little compliment. I wonder why most agents in the sex crimes division are women.” at that you finally break.

“Take a wild guess, smarty as—” you snapped, not even bothering to mask the poison in your voice.

“Agent.” Hotch interrupted. If you didn’t know him, you would’ve missed the way the corner of his lips twitching just slightly. “Anyways, the case.” He said, finally beginning the explanation about what the team had figured out until then, questioning him about the conduct of the investigation of previous murders.

…

Moments later, the meeting with the captain going smoothly from that — without any other uncomfortable situations, for the most part —, you stopped by at the break room to grab a coffee before meeting the rest of the team.

“What a gentleman” you murmured, ironically.

“I’m sorry about him” Hotch stated, his voice gentle and apologetic, staring deeply at your eyes, so intensely it made your legs wobbly.

“Don’t be” you waved him off “But if you really want me to feel better, you should get on your knees and beg nicely. I like my man a little submissive.” You teased, winking.

He sighed, his posture not even flinching besides the very tip of his ears, that blushed adorably.

“You can’t flirt with me every time I say something that makes you uncomfortable just to make me drop it” he said, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m looking forward to see how you plan on stopping me, sir” you blinked innocently, walking past him to the conference room to gather with the rest of the team.

…

The entire team sits at the conference room, scattered across the table are notepads, case files, pictures of the victims and delivery. Hotch, JJ and Rossi were discussing suspects and family interviews. Emily and Morgan are trying to replay the unsub’s steps. You and Spencer are silently sitting across each other, rereading some files between bites.

The profile you gave to the officers repeater inside your head: ‘our unsub is a male in his middle to late twenties. He’s acting guided by his hatred towards women. He chooses his victims based on their similarities to the person object of his hate. Which means they are all a representation of who this person is to him. He’s escalating and getting more confident, which probably means it’s a matter of time until he decides to go for the main victim, the one he truly hates…’

But something didn’t sit right with you.

“There’s something wrong.” you stated, deep in thought, interrupting the team’s conversation.

“Yeah, definitely” Spencer agreed with you, raising his eyes off of the file and looking at you quizzically.

“What do you have in mind?” Emily asked, her elbows resting on the table to pay full attention to the two of you.

“Alright, look.” you started, finishing the last bite of your sandwich and throwing out the empty wrapping. Hotch silently offered you some napkins, which you accepted and used without even acknowledging it, way too focused on your train of thought “The bodies were disposed without much of a thought, not one signature or M.O, which could mean the killing wasn’t part of the plan. The bruises in their bodies show overkill, which indicates that he knew the victims and had a personal problem with them. But we haven’t found any connection between the victims.”

“The only thing in common between the four women was their personality.” Spencer continued “All of them, Ashley, Laura, Riley, and Kendall were considered angelic. Their friends and families, to describe them, used terms amongst “saint-like” “too good to be true” “kind soul”. They all engaged in charity events, were outstanding academically and considered role models inside to family and neighborhood settings.

“But just under the curtain they weren’t so perfect. Ashley was into shoplifting for fun, Laura was on drugs, Riley cheated on her boyfriend and Kendall paid other students to do her school projects. That’s probably how he chose his victims.” Morgan realized.

“Exactly. We profiled the unsub acted guided for his hatred towards women in general. But what if we got it wrong?” you suggested.

“So you don’t think they hated the victims?” Hotch asked, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “Yes and no.” you started “I don’t think that he hated them at first. The opposite actually, I think he loved them. He saw them not as the personification of his hatred, but as his loved one. He saw them and thought they were perfect, kind, educated, reserved, probably the same way he felt towards someone in particular, the true object of his fantasies. He thought he found substitutes on the victims, but it turned out they weren’t as perfect as he thought. That’s when it turned to hate.” you explained.

“Wait a second.” Spencer dialed a number on his phone, turning the call on speaker and placing it on the center of the desk.

“Yes, my beautiful genius and friend, how can I help you?”

“Garcia, I need you to find men in their mid twenties that live somewhere in the comfort zone I sent you earlier.” he asked.

“I need more than that, handsome. I got 107.”

“Eliminate the ones who work full time jobs.” Rossi suggested.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. But still, 80.”

“Eliminate the ones in relationships, or that have been in relationships in the last two years.” Hotch said, leaning closer to the phone.

“Yes, sir! Down to 43.”

“Garcia, how many of them lost a female figure in the last 3 years? Maybe a mother, a grandmother, a sister…” JJ asked.

“Only 6!”

“Send their information, please.”

“Coming, give me a moment.” she said, turning off the call without waiting for an answer.

…

“Ok, we can rule out the first one. He lost his grandmother last year, but lost contact with her 10 years ago” Rossi commented, analysing the files Garcia sent you.

“And the second one too. He lost his mother but she had drinking problems, so it doesn’t fit our profile.” Hotch said, his eyes entirely focused on the papers before him.

“Hey, guys” Emily started “Look at this one. Daniel Scott, 26, had a twin sister, Linda Scott. At school she was the prom queen, graduated with honor in Havard, straight A’s student, was very active member of the city church and engaged frequently on charity events. Died in a car crash in november, 2 years ago.

“Right when the killing started” Spencer agreed, his eyes wide open.

“We got him.” you said, the whole team standing up and getting ready to follow the address Garcia sent to your phones.

…

Hours had passed since the arrest. With the case wrapped up, the night grew late and the team gathered in silence in the jet on their way home, all of them deep in sleep.

All of them, except for you and Hotch.

You wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. After cases like that, you hardly could, with the adrenaline still high on your blood from the pressure you were under just a few hours ago. The quiet humming of the jet blended with Rossi’s snores and the music coming from Derek’s headphones – you swear to god that man’s going to end up deaf –, you stood up from your seat in front of Spencer, who laid splayed out on the empty seats, and went to the little kitchenette at the very front of the jet.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, you made some brewed coffee, the strong scent and the heat warming up your hands immediately. You insisted that the coffee you stored – at the jet, at least – was a little bit better than the one you kept at the bureau – which was straight garbage, in your opinion – and you and Rossi compromised to always keep the cabinets filled with good branded coffee. And a few candy bars and crackers. The good one, obviously.

Hotch thought it was unnecessary, but you changed his mind – by that you mean ‘made him lose his patience and give up fighting, letting you do whatever you wanted as long as he didn’t get bothered by it’ – explaining how changing to a better coffee, something you consumed multiple times a day, would improve your health and performance on the field. Also how having candy bars and good chocolate stored on the jet would help your bodies relax to not associating the jet rides only with the disturbing cases you worked on, but also with good and delicious snacks to warm your heart and soul – with those exact words. Spencer even hopped in, adding some scientific facts and research about how to improve work morale and how improving productivity was directly connected with the quality of the work environment, which honestly sealed the deal for you.

You got two cups filled to the brim with freshly brewed coffee and a few mini chocolate bars and walked quietly between your teammates, settling on the seat across from Hotch, who stared daggers to the paperwork in front of him.

“What did the poor paper do to you? Glaring at it like it’s our unsub.” you teased, placing one of the cups and three flavoured chocolates in front of him. Just then he raised his head up at you, blinking his eyes as if to adjust his eyes, which were already hurting because of the tiny little letters he head to read and reread.

“Thank you” he said, quietly. He leaned back on the seat, watching fondly you sitting in front of him, curling up against the window and covering yourself with a cheetah printed furry blanket, that you also insisted on leaving on the jet to make the place more comfortable and cozy. “This coffee is actually really good.” “You’re welcome” you winked, smirking smugly from above your own cup. He rolled his eyes, his barely-there smile making an appearance.

“Good job today.” he recognized, and before you could make a joke about how much he was praising you in the spare of 2 minutes, he asked “How did you notice?” genuinely interested, like he always did. And it made your heartbeat quicken, every. single. time.

“I can’t explain it. I just felt something was off. It didn’t add up, you know? We didn’t have any connections between the victims, so it could only be him. From that point it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion about how he really felt. This kind of behaviour is really common in men.” you shrugged and he frowned, silently asking for you to elaborate. So you did. “It’s the same old patriarchy. The woman is raised to be the perfect housewife, her whole life just waiting for her husband to come. If she’s not chast, virgin, submissive, she’s not marriage material. Therefore, useless. And when the woman doesn’t attend to that… requirements, if you will, she turns from the object of his desires to the victim of hatred, disgust. I just applied that thesis to the profile we already had and changed what it didn’t fit.

“Very impressive.” he praised. “There’s a really good article about that. Spencer and I were discussing it a few weeks ago. If you want to, I can send it to you.” you offered, starting to actually feel shy under his attentive gaze and admiration. And to the annoyingly but persistent desire you felt under your skin every time you had any deeper interaction with him, like a little personal reminder about what you couldn’t have.

“I would love to.” “Sure.” you agreed, giving him a small smile. You sip on your coffee, grabbing the mug tightly with both hands to keep them warm.

For a few minutes you stayed like this, in a comfortable silence. You gazed at the stars shining on the dark night and him writing on the reports, stopping just to sip at his own coffee and eat the chocolates.

You felt his gaze shifter to you again, almost like your body had a motion sensor that alarmed you every time he looked at you. You stared at each other, and before you could blush or make a little joke to ease up the tension, he started to speak.

“I’m sorry for that capitan.” you grimaced with the topic. It happened three days ago, you were over it. Just as you were going to flirt with him – by saying something incredibly unhinged and inappropriate until he got so uncomfortable he had to change subject, exactly like he accused you of doing – he raised a hand, stopping you. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… I’m sorry.”

You relaxed back on your seat, shifting slightly and turning your gaze back to the widow. Hotch knew you too well. Well enough to understand that situations like this made you feel uncomfortable. You were one of the most emotionally intelligent people he’d ever met. You were strong, kind, giving, and never afraid to show your true emotions. You just didn’t like to feel weak. You dealt with victims every day, all different kinds. And although you know deep in your heart that there was nothing wrong with it, you hated feeling like one.

But as much as Hotch knew you, you knew him too. Well enough to know that he didn’t feel like that was a weakness whatsoever. He felt sorry for you, yes, but he didn’t pity you. He knows you. He sees you. And you were so beyond grateful for it.

“Yeah. Me too.”

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calmlb · 9 months ago

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It’s been clear that the Tanizakis aren’t siblings from the very beginning

here’s some evidence now that it’s been confirmed canon…

everyone who’s read irl Tanizaki’s book knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

BUT just because the Tanizakis aren’t siblings doesn’t mean you can’t feel uncomfortable about them. if you feel uncomfortable, GOOD. that’s exactly what they want

the Tanizakis, Mori— they all use these disturbing ruses to disarm or distract people in order to protect themselves, or to accomplish their goals. this is a writing device that asagiri commonly employs as a way to parallel the irl literature (it’s actually ingenious)

there are 4 main indicators that have always made it clear to me that Junichiro & Naomi are not siblings:

1. most obviously— their character designs. Harukawa is extremely intentional with character designs, & she very intentionally made Naomi & Junichiro look nothing alike

their eye shapes are purposely different

their color palettes are contrasting

even their differing styles of clothing have meaning

this was all done so that the audience could PLAINLY see that they’re not related— so that WE know that they’re lying when they say they ARE related

2. how the people around them respond to their act.

the general reaction is “don’t question it”— which is exactly what they want. “be distracted by how uncomfortable you feel so that you look away from what we’re hiding” (this is likely a protective measure)

3. most importantly, this is meant to parallel irl Tanizaki’s book “Naomi,” where the main character Joji picks up Naomi to raise her into his ideal woman, but since she's so young (& a minor) they call each other cousins (Joji makes no sexual advances on young Naomi btw)

however, his plan backfires because when Naomi gets older & they get married, she flips the script on him & manipulates HIM so that he's under her thumb (which is why bsd Tanizaki is at a domineering Naomi's mercy). Joji let her have her way because of his masochistic tendencies

4. lastly is the emphasis that Asagiri and the Tanizakis themselves put on calling each other siblings.

over & over, it’s “my brother this” & “my sister that”

like they’re desperately trying to convince us that it’s true (“don’t let your lying eyes deceive you”)

here are just a few of many examples from the light novels…

again, if you’ve read “Naomi” you knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

just like if you’ve read irl Mori’s works, it’s clear that bsd Mori isn’t a pedophile

just like if you’ve read No Longer Human you know that Dazai’s an unreliable narrator. he makes you think he’s a bad person bc he believes he’s a bad person, but those around him see him differently (btw this doesn’t mean he’s never done anything “bad,” though bsd isn’t about morality— but that’s another discussion)

anyway, i’m so excited for the Tanizakis backstory to be revealed so that we can better understand why they use this defense!!

also let this be a reminder to READ THE LITERATURE if you’re able to!! even reading synopses & analyses of the coordinating books makes bsd make much more sense 🥹

reminder that this how you’re supposed to react while reading bsd:

also, if you’re interested in a post explaining how Mori isn’t a pedo, i wrote this analysis on twt. OR you can read this document that one of my moots sent me (remember: analyzing a character does NOT mean you condone any actions they may or may not commit!)

#i hope this makes sense. i’ve had this in the drafts for months but was too scared to post it #i’m hoping now that it’s confirmed canon there won’t be as much backlash ^^’ pls be kind #darcy this is for you… i hope you like it :’)#also full disclosure i haven’t been able to read all of Naomi yet. mostly synopses & analyses. so don’t take my summary of the book as law #also hopefully now people won’t ignore the Tanizakis anymore!! not only are they so interesting. they’re also just fun characters #Naomi is so underrated & intelligent. i need more of her teaming up with Dazai #rambling about bsd again #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd meta #bsd analysis #bsd tanizaki #bsd naomi #naomi tanizaki #tanizaki junichirou #tanizaki siblings #bsd 118

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ms-demeanor · 5 months ago

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Hey friend! So while I'm incredibly skeptical, I'm not strictly against alternative medicine, like you are. I saw you mention reiki, and thought you might geek out on this article like I did:

https://web.archive.org/web/20200308195914/https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/04/reiki-cant-possibly-work-so-why-does-it/606808/

It's called "Reiki Can't Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" and I highly encourage reading the whole thing. It first of all thoroughly debunks a lot of the claims reiki practitioners make but it also details all of the studies that have proven its effectiveness and provides what I find a pretty compelling explanation: that much of modern western medicine is stressful and traumatizing. Of course laying in a quiet room with the lights dimmed while a kind person sits with you and wishes for you to be well is effective. It reduces stress and all of the negative biological processes it triggers, which promotes healing.

The article mentions that for years we didn't understand the mechanism by which acetaminophen worked - we just knew it did. I knew a man who was really into "chakra therapy" in the 90s where he had a set of colored sunglasses that, supposedly, would rebalance one's out-of-whack chakras through light therapy. He found that attending to his throat chakra, yellow, helped him sleep better. Years later, formal studies found that yellow lenses filter blue light and can help regulate circadian rhythms.

When I was really little, my uncle sold magnet therapy products (which claimed to promote circulation?? I think??). I had a huge meltdown at a family reunion and no one could get me to calm down. My uncle put a blanket full of magnets on top of me, and I immediately relaxed. Imagine my surprise hearing that story for the first time as an adult who now uses a weighted blanket for stress.

I agree that people need to be really careful about these practices, about getting scammed, and especially about herbal supplements that can have dangerous interactions. I also think there's an extent to which you can analyze the risks and benefits and say, "Okay, I have no idea why this works but it does and there's no major downsides."

Hey so I get a bit heated in this response but I want you to know that I approached this ask in good faith because I know you and I know that we have a lot of the same values and interests and this touched a nerve that was not at all your fault and once I get past the direct response to the article I think I come off a little less. Um. Like the aggression there is not directed at you, it's directed at the article and at one person mentioned in the article specifically who is part of why my reaction to the article is so not good. But I promise after the last bullet point I come off as less reactive, I think. (I'm also publishing this publicly because I think it may be helpful for people to see how CAM stuff often gets away with a veneer of skepticism-that-isn't-actually-skepticism - the article claims to be skeptical but then makes a ton of assumptions and cites some truly mind-bogglingly bad sources that a lot of people won't recognize as bad if they don't have a hair trigger trained by far too much time on the bad CAM parts of the internet).

I've actually read that article a few time times, and would like to do a quick rundown on why I find it unconvincing:

She doesn't cite any decent studies on reiki; one that she does cite is just a self-reported questionnaire response from 23 people in 2002.

While we don't know the exact mechanism of action for acetaminophen, we do know that it does work - it measurably reduces fever and in double blinded RCTs produces reproduceable results in reducing certain kinds of pain. The Science Based Medicine authors cited in the article who called for an end to studies on reiki did so both because there is no plausible mechanism of action for reiki (specifically as energy work, not as 'being in a room with a patient person who listens to you') and because there is no good evidence that it works. (And they wrote a follow-up to the Atlantic article; I like SBM but it's quite sneery, as are most of their write-ups of reiki). When Kisner asks "why should this be different?" when comparing reiki and acetaminophen, the answer is: because there is not only no plausible way that reiki *could* work, there is not any good evidence we have that it works better than placebo.

"Various non-Western practices have become popular complements to conventional medicine in the past few decades, chief among them yoga, meditation, and acupuncture, all of which have been the subject of rigorous scientific studies that have established and explained their effectiveness." This one sentence needs probably twenty or so links in response, suffice it to say that western medicine has emphatically not established and explained the effectiveness of AT LEAST acupuncture and the casually credulous way Kisner accepts that acupuncture is effective (effective FOR WHAT?) throws some serious doubt on her ability to assess these kinds of things.

The title of the article is "Reiki can't possibly work, so why does it?" and that's probably the Atlantic's fault more than Jordan Kisner's fault, but she doesn't ever demonstrate that it works. She says she got a buzzy feeling after her training, she says that patients at the VA were asking for reiki as treatment for pain and sleep disorders, she says that people remembered "healing touches" from parents and loved ones and that the same mechanism might be what makes reiki 'work.' She says that reiki "has been shown by various studies that pass evidentiary muster to help patients in a variety of ways when used as a complementary practice" and the two studies that she includes that weren't just a questionnaire were 1) a non-blinded study of heart rate variability post heart attack where the reiki arm involved continuous interaction with a trained nurse and the other two arms involved resting quietly or classical music (so relaxation as a result of additional focused attention by attentive medical professionals could account for this? Why was the control for this study not having a med student sit and hold the patient's hand?) and 2) a study of patients who sought out reiki who were surveyed after treatment and noted improvement on one of twenty mental or physical markers (this study is like, GOLD for an example of a bad study; no control, self-selected participants who believe in the efficacy of the intervention, exceptionally broad criteria for a positive result - I find it really really really challenging to grant any credence to someone who confidently cited this as an example of reiki "working")

Near the end of the article she says "At the same time, this recalled the most cutting-edge, Harvard-stamped science I’d read in my research: Ted Kaptchuk’s finding that the placebo effect is a real, measurable, biological healing response to “an act of caring.” - if she read any of Ted Kaptchuk's research she didn't link to it; what she did link to was a 2018 New York Times profile of him and Kathryn Hall, researchers at Harvard's Placebo Studies and the Therapeutic Encounter program. Being any flavor of journalist and citing Ted Kaptchuk as your source for cutting-edge, institutionally-backed science is disqualifying.

I now need to do some yelling about Ted Kaptchuk.

For clarity: I have as much medical training as Kathryn Hall and Ted Kaptchuk, which is to say: None.

Hall is a microbiologist with a PhD in Public Health, so she at least a background in science. Kaptchuk is an acupuncturist with a BA in East Asian studies and a doctorate in Chinese medicine - notably NOT a medical degree; he was forced to stop calling himself a doctor and had papers retracted after enough people questioned whether the school he claimed he attended even existed and the documents he presented to claim that he was an "OMD" were conclusively translated and did not have any indication that the granted a medical degree of any kind - Science Based Medicine was involved in investigating this because they've been comprehensively anti-quack forever and Ted Kaptchuk has been a quack forever (after recieving confirmation from the government of Macau that Kaptchuk's alma mater was not a medical degree granting institution SBM STILL gave him the benefit of the doubt and had people translate his documentation for final confirmation).

He is also an author on of one of my most beloathed ever studies, which showed that sham acupuncture, placebo, and albuterol all produced the same effect on patient-reported well-being, coming to the conclusion that patient reports can be unreliable and that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma." That fucking line, that stupid goddamned line, gets cited in every piece of woo bullshit about how acupuncture or chiropractic or some scam-ass diet all work, I've run into this study while looking through at least twenty bibliographies and it is one of the biggest, reddest flags that whoever is writing the paper you're reading is full up on some bullshit. Because, see, the paper found that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma" in terms of *patient-reported* markers, but the fucking study found that only albuterol produced an actual effect in lung function. Here's the sentence BEFORE the one that gets cited all the time: "Although albuterol, but not the two placebo interventions, improved FEV1 [forced expiratory volume in one second - the measure for lung function used in the study and used to diagnose asthma] in these patients with asthma, albuterol provided no incremental benefit with respect to the self-reported outcomes." It doesn't matter if the patient *feels* better if they can't actually breathe! It doesn't fucking matter - feeling better but still having poor breathing leaves you more vulnerable to dying of a fucking asthma attack! I hate this goddamned study so fucking much and it's used all the time to claim that placebo can be just as effective as medicine for making people FEEL better but, like, they're still sick even if they feel better! I HAVE HAD PEOPLE CITE THIS STUPID FUCKING STUDY TO ME AS EVIDENCE THAT I DON'T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT TREATING MY FUCKING ASTHMA BECAUSE I DON'T GET ACUPUNCTURE TO TREAT MY FUCKING ASTHMA. If sham acupuncture makes you feel better when you've got the flu but doesn't lower your fever or make you less contagious, you shouldn't act like you don't have a fever or aren't contagious this study makes me INSANE.

Okay done yelling.

I think this look at placebo in the midst of her article about reiki is really interesting because it's very common for CAM practitioners to claim that it's as effective as placebo - which just means that it's not effective. This is a great explanation from The Skeptic on why placebo isn't and can't be what Kaptchuk, Hall, and the like claim. It's also interesting to me that Kisner didn't choose to link to a 2011 New Yorker profile of Kaptchuk that is somewhat less rosy about his placebo studies and includes this absolutely crushing statement: "the placebo effect doesn’t appear to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trivers suggests that this is because most people who have Alzheimer’s disease are unable to anticipate the future and are therefore unable to prepare for it."

But to the actual point of the ask: I honestly think it's fascinating how much CAM success probably rides on "well did you listen to the patient and pay attention to what was wrong with them and sympathize with them and help them lay out plan that made them feel like they had some agency in this exceptionally frustrating situation (chronic illness, newly diagnosed issue, totally undiagnosed issue) that they're dealing with?"

I know part of why people with chronic illnesses turn to CAM is because they're ignored and dismissed by allopathic practitioners who are largely looking for horses, not zebras - this is one of the reasons that I'm really big on reminding people that (at least in the US) DOs are fully licensed physicians who use a holistic and patient-centered approach so if you are someone with a chronic illness who has had trouble getting diagnosed or had trouble getting doctors to believe you, swapping your MD for a DO as a primary care physician might be really, really helpful to you.

But the flip side of that is that is that I worry deeply about the question of where harm starts; the example with your uncle is really great because you do have a solid instance of something working but for totally the wrong reason (pressure being the mechanism that actually helped, versus magnets being the reason given by the person who did the treatment). Some of this stuff has very little likelihood of causing direct harm, but has the distinct possibility of having indirect harms, which people in the anti-CAM space generally divide into two categories, treatment delay and unnecessary costs (opportunity costs, monetary costs, wasted effort, etc.)

I'm going to step outside of your specific example and look at magnet therapy generally, which really is a spectacular thing to focus on because it honestly doesn't have any direct harms; nobody is allergic to magnets, the kinds of magnets used aren't strong enough to interfere with medical devices, it's even safer than the whole "well herbalism is sometimes just a cup of tea" thing because there are "safe" teas that can do real harm to large populations! But simply being around magnets is not going to hurt anyone (unless they're swallowed; nobody swallow magnets please).

One of the things that I think goes under-discussed when talking about placebo and CAM is that the people trying the alternative solutions desperately WANT the alternative medicine to work (I suspect that this is why the self-selected study of reiki patients has such a significant finding). They are pulling for it; they may be looking at it as a last resort, or they may be hoping that it will work to avoid a treatment that is more frightening, expensive, or inaccessible. I think this actually contributes a lot to the delay of care that we see with CAM.

The absolute worst case harm I can imagine from magnetic therapy is delaying treatment. Let's suppose we've got a diabetic patient with gradually increasing peripheral neuropathy; they have reacted poorly to gabapentin in the past and are looking for something more natural, and they hear from their chiropractor that magnet therapy can be used to treat neuropathy. They buy some compression socks with "magnetic and earthing properties" and sleep in the socks. Whether through the compression controlling some edema or through the simple desire for the socks to work, they feel some relief from the nerve pain they were experiencing and decide that this is a success. The socks work! They continue wearing the socks with occasional pain, but less than before. However, because they are focused on the lack of pain, they don't notice that it's accompanied by increasing numbness. The numbness significantly increases their risk of injury to their feet, which significantly increases their risk of amputation.

It probably sounds like catastrophizing to say "using magnets could lead to amputation" but honestly I don't think it's that far out of the realm of possibility (every time I post on this topic I get flooded with the saddest stories in the world about people whose loved ones died because of delayed treatment for cancer or heart disease).

The second category of harm is cost, which is honestly pretty minimal with magnet therapy, as long as you aren't spending $1049 on a magnetic mat

or paying a chiropractor to give you magnetic treatments. For some other medically harmless treatments like reiki, cost is the thing that I worry about - while I was looking up information related to the article I found that people are charging anywhere from $60 to $225 a session, and selling multi-session packages for thousands of dollars - and if someone thinks that something works, even if it only works by being in a soothing space where someone cares about you - they'll pay for it.

I'm aware that all of this is also extra complicated because of the cost and lack of access to allopathic medicine - a chiropractor broke my spine because I could pay her $60 per appointment but I couldn't pay $125 to see an MD when I didn't have insurance. People who are sick are going to look for treatment; people who have been denied treatment or dismissed by doctors are going to look for alternative treatments.

But man, I really wish I'd spent that sixty bucks on half of a doctor's appointment because the chiropractor didn't know about the benign tumor that I had that weakened the structure of that particular bone when she did her adjustment; it also didn't make the pain go away, it made a different pain start and get worse because it turns out I was having debilitating muscle spasms that then had a bone injury added in on top.

(Chiropractic, for the record, goes with chelation therapy and many many many many cases of herbalism where it's NOT just cost or delay; people claim these treatments are harmless and they are not. They can do tremendous harm).

But yeah I'm not going to deny at all that all of this would be a hell of a lot better if people (especially marginalized people) didn't have to jump through hoops to prove to a doctor that something is wrong with them, and didn't have to do so in an appointment that attempts to cram whole person care down into fifteen minutes, and didn't have the possibility of bankrupting you. Interacting with allopathic medicine is a nightmare and I totally understand why people want to look outside of it for treatment.

I've just heard too many horror stories and seen too much predatory CAM to cut much of it any slack.

At the end of the SBM response to the Atlantic article, the author (I can't remember if it's Gorski or Novella) makes the point that reiki is a spiritual practice, and that we've known for a long time that spiritual practices can improve a person's well-being in a number of ways; they can reduce anxiety, they can provide community, they can give people a space to feel and express emotions that they certainly aren't going to be able to process in a doctor's office. Spiritual practices can be wonderful, and we know there are a lot of people who they can help. But they aren't medicine, and attempting to replace medicine with them (which I don't think that most reiki practitioners are trying to do, to be fair, but which Ted Kaptchuk DEFINITELY is in trying to 'harness the power of placebo') is a disservice to people who need an inhaler instead of acupuncture.

Also, and I know this was not your point but I have to bring it up because people ask about it whenever discussions of placebo come up:

The placebo effect is not treatment. The placebo effect, whether achieved through deception or when someone says loud and clear "this is a sugar pill" does not improve an illness, but it may improve how a patient *feels* about an illness. In some cases, this may as well be the same thing - if you're dealing with muscle pain because you're stressed and no matter what you do it doesn't go away because your shoulders are always up around your ears and you're grinding your teeth and you're sleeping poorly, then literally just talking to someone who is in an office and says "this is a sugar pill, go ahead and take it" may make your muscle pain feel better, but it isn't going to reduce your stress and it isn't going to last, and if your muscle pain is because you're feeling angina as a result of a partially blocked artery then it SURE AS FUCK is not going to make you better and may mask symptoms that were a warning sign of a much more serious problem. People who are sick deserve actual treatment, and placebo is not treatment, which is part of why Ted Kaptchuk makes me want to tear my hair out.

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midnightshindig · 4 months ago

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could we get hc’s/a drabble for a reader who’s cecil’s daughter x rex? keep up the great work 🙏

Rex Splode X Cecil’s Daughter! Reader

(Omggg I love this request, thank you sm!!!)

You worked closely with your father, partly because you were the best supervillain profiler in the world and partly because he loved you dearly

After the life he’s lived, Cecil knew the safest place was with him and Donald at HQ.

But you couldn’t just stand around and look pretty, no no, he insisted you learned a trade

and I mean hey, you get good at what comes easy, right?

so you ended up being the top profiler for the GPA, figuring out a villains motive and analyzing the best course of action from hundreds of thousands of miles away, with only information gleaned from surveillance drones and the Guardian of the Globes’ radio comms descriptions

This is how you met Rex

Like your father, you were efficient to a fault

like your father, you made few mistakes and took pride in your work

Unlike your father, you sounded cute as hell

and Rex noticed.

it started off innocent enough, with him being the most descriptive of the Guardians when it came to villain descriptions:

”OH MY GOD FUCKING SHIT HES GOT A GUN OEJABTBNWNT-“

”Uhhhh temperament? Well shit Y/n he’s got a temper he’s TRYING TO MURDER ME AGRHAHR-“

“No I have no idea what her agenda is- but she kicks like a fu-cking mule and I can’t get her to back off of me!”

mostly just whining. Actually, almost exclusively whining.

You built up a rapport over time, like audio pen pals, or a really shitty podcast for the other to listen to.

eventually, you started chatting over comms even outside of missions.

”heyyyy y/n, are you online?”

”Yes Rex, you know I stay on during the day. Is there a threat?”

”Naw I just thought you’d want to hear me drink sixteen beers in five minutes”

”why would I want to-“

the sound of chugging and metal being crushed, followed by the horrific noises of a newly emptied stomach followed suite.

Your father didn’t approve, not because of intermingling work and pleasure, he knew the best source for companionship is within the industry

bit Rex?

*glances over at Rex trying to drink a beer immediately after throwing up sixteen beers*

are you trying to send him into an early retirement?

but he’s your dad and ultimately he figures you could do Rex some good

so at the Guardians Christmas party, he introduces you:

”Uhm, I’d like you all to meet Y/n, she’s the chief profiler you’ve been communicating with for the last few months. She is also my daughter, but I trust you will respect her as the professional she is.”

Rex is on you immediately

Cecil is regretting all his life choices

he should’ve gotten you a puppy and Rex a tomagatchi. Or actually nothing because he doesn’t care about Rex.

buuuuut he cares about you, and what kind of father would he be if he didn’t try and facilitate you being happy?

so you and Rex meet in person for the first time, and he’s a mess.

”Heyyyyy hot stuff, we gotta get you a video camera or something because god damn!”

you raise an eyebrow with a smile, and take a long, agonizingly quiet sip from your drink.

before spitting it into the cup

he can’t help but laugh when he realizes what’s happen

”Oh yeah! I spiked the punch, it’s so highschool Cecil didn’t think I’d actually do it!”

”Jesus Christ- what the fuck did you spike it *with*?” You ask indignantly, your mouth burning

His Face is smug as ever “Everclear”

After everyone (including you and Rex) get belligerently drunk, Cecil cancels workplace parties.

It brings good things, however, breaking the ice for future in-person hangouts

he may not be able to fly you around the world like Mark, but he can treat you to a pretty impressive firework show whenever you want

the first time he does this is the time he asks you out.

You’re on the mountain outside the base, and he says he’s got “something special to show you”

Please don’t throw up sixteen beers again please please please-

A mirage of colors and shapes flash across the sky

He looks back at you after finishing, the last firework delayed enough to erupt into a burst of pinks and reds when he asks you

”Uhm- I know it’s super unprofessional and your dad will totally kick my ass if I mess this up, but would you wanna go on a date sometime?”

Your profiling skills didn’t pick THAT up

You blink. Hard.

”like. With you?”

he furrows his brow in embarrassed anger and takes a few huffy breaths, folding his arms

”Uh. Yeah. With me!” He frowns even more, his anger breaking to reveal a glimmer of anxiety

this boy is so nervous please just answer him

and do you do, standing up from your perch on the snowy mountainside and putting your gloved hands in his

”Yeah- I mean- that’s agreeable to me if it’s agreeable to you.”

somewhere like hundreds of miles away, Cecil sighs in relief for the first time in decades.

so you and Rex start dating!

he’s a bit of a gym rat, and most of your interaction is still over comms, since he’s so busy saving the world and stuff

wow your boyfriend is so cool!

but you also carve out time to show Rex the cool stuff your dad has taken you to see over the years.

its a little weird for Rex

”Yeah- this is my dads favorite painting- and this is where we go to get ice cream- and-“

Rex isn’t sure he knows how to interact with Cecil after learning his favorite broadway musical. Or that he has one at all.

Cecil isn’t sure how to react when your bedroom cork board is no longer sparse, but filled with Polaroids and photo strips of you and his employee slash superhero lackey. Kissing. Eugh.

Rex values your skills, and often makes a game out of people watching with you

”The guy with the huge dick energy, in the green hoodie.”

”Mmmm…. Kelptomaniac with a fent problem, looks like he has early onset arthritis and an iron deficiency. Most likely to rob a combination grocery store and pharmacy.”

”that’s brutal! Okay what about the girl with the huge… um… tank top. Striped, by that statue!”

”Developed quickly, has crow feet and probably did ballet as a child, but stopped around middle school. Her hair looks natural but is dyed, likely from ginger to brown based on the undertones. She has a twitch in her arm and a shakiness in her eyes, probably low blood sugar. Hence-“ you gestured to the ice cream cart next to her “Why she’s in line. Like we should be, cmon!”

you pull him over and get ice cream, he gets rocky road every time, and always insists on getting a bite of whatever you got

Bonus:

Rex and Cecil are both relatively bad at the traditional family dynamic

but Rex wants to”meet the parents” like he never could with Eve for obvious reasons

so you bring him to hq for the Superbowl

Every year you, Cecil, and Donald stream the Super Bowl on a side screen while carrying out your regular duties, along with a cheap plastic football shaped bowl of potato chips, Donald’s favorite, and a smaller bowl of peanut m&ms, Cecil’s favorite.

Rex studies really hard on the Eagles and the Chiefs

only to realize nobody except Donald actually gives a shit how the game plays out

rex scores MAJOR brownie points with Donald though

and since he’s like basically an uncle to you, he counts it as a win

cecil thinks he’s lame

”if you put this much effort into training as you do trying to impress me via an archaic bid to my masculinity, the world might actually be a safe place.”

ouch.

Rex eats all the peanut m&Ms in revenge

#invincible show #invincible #rex splode #rex sloan #rex splode x reader #X reader #requests open #invincible fanfic #cecil stedman #invincible cecil #invincible hcs #Invincible drabble

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 1 year ago

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TADC: Thoughts on Jax in Episode 2

Thoughts on Jax after Amazing Digital Circus Episode 2 Dropped.

Massive spoilers below the cut. Just watch the ep before you read.

Amazing Digital Circus had an amazing second episode as we're introduced more to what the adventures are like, and what NPCs are like and ofc the existential horror of being a living AI only created for a source of entertainment.

Also, I love the dream sequence at the beginning, because we actually get some deeper insight into Pomni's thoughts on Ragatha. Feeling like her helpfulness is the guise of like "man, you're not cut out for this like the rest of us" which is typically something a lot of people who have been bullied in highschool perceive genuine acts of kindness and engagement. (which I kind of suspect Pomni might have been, or at least, been a shut-in and didn't have a lot of friends in her human life. )

Jax wasn't really the main focus of the episode, but it wasn't really until the end of the episode I understood his behavior and what this episode is foreshadowing overall.

Since while Jax isn't the focus emotionally, he is definitely the plot device to push things forward. And I mean, a plot device in a very active and quite literal way. He's the one that causes Pomni to clip out of the map, takes advantage of everyone and is just... genuinely an unpleasant person.

I actually really like this.

As, I know the first episode in the digital circus, many people (me included) could perceive or analyze Jax's actions as someone who is "helping" in a roundabout asshole way. Episode Two has none of that here. He just wants Bloodshed, And I love that we're getting additional context on his character.

It's hard to tell how much fan reception Gooseworx saw of episode one before episode two hit production, so I don't know how much of the fandom perception of Jax had an influence on the writing process, but I can't deny that might have been a factor in assuring us "no he's not secretly helpful, he's just an asshole" But I'm just going to assume that this has been part of his characterization from the start and it becomes way more clear as the episode goes on.

But there was something in his behavior throughout this whole episode that seemed off to me. Like Jax was taking up a majority of the B-plot, while Pomni had the A-plot. So I was wondering why Jax seemed to be the protagonist with the B-plot when Pomni was the A-plot when they seemed to be so disconnected with eachother in motivations and telling us things about the characters.

But then it hit me when the episode ended and the two plots merged together.

"who... knows... what could happen..."

And then it hit me.

Pomni finds comfort in an NPC who is going through a similar experience to her and can emphasize, despite their being other humans who have gone through the same thing, due to her self-admitting to being a loner in her human life. Well, she didn't admit it outright, but from how she perceives Ragatha's kindness as an act, or patronizing, it seems like she doesn't have a lot of friends...

Meanwhile... Jax... He treats the adventure like a videogame. Why shouldn't he? He's trapped in a videogame, right? But it really goes beyond that.

The fellow humans that Jax is trapped with, he treats THEM like they're NPCs, while Pomni treats the NPC like they're human.

Jax says to Gangle "Aren't you supposed to be the suggestible one?" Which you wouldn't typically wouldn't say to a person, right? That's something you would say more about a character that you maxed out the dialogue trees in.

He calls Pomni "His Bridge" even.

They're his objects. His tools, his own npcs he's exhausted the dialogue options on.

Jax dehumanizes the players in a way that Pomni humanizes the NPCS.

These are two opposite ends of the spectrum but what really sold it for me was Jax's reaction to the funeral.

And Jax is the one member out of the cast who doesn't even show up to the funeral. (aside from Caine and Bubble but they are AI.)

He does NOT want to think about the Players as real people. And showing that opposite perspective compared to Pomni I think is much as important going forward.

Jax was the plot catalyst of this entire episode, and served the thematic theme of the episode quite well, even if it didn't look like it on first glance.

I absolutely loved this episode and I can't wait for more.

Also... Poor Pomni can't have shit in Detroit

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc jax #Jax #danachan's rants #digital circus #the amazing digital circus spoilers #tadc spoilers

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falling-star-cygnus · 1 year ago

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i couldn’t resist the pull of a new indie animated cartoon, life is hard and i am but a weak soul

✨Ramshackle✨ by Zeddyzi -> why it’s amazing and why you should watch it :D

she’s a mood fr

No.1: Vinnie is usually the first to panic

while none of trio are 'in charge' -nor should they be- Vinnie does take the lead more often than Skipp or Stone do {these two also tend to look at her before taking action, which is actually adorable} so it's pretty cool to see she's not oblivious to dangerous situations like her archetype tends to lean into -> also Stone's totally contemplating breaking the window to get away from the pageant zombies

No.2: Stone is super protective, despite acting like he's not

but he does it in a way that doesn’t come across as thinking the other two are incapable, it’s more like: you totally could’ve dealt with that, but im right here so you don’t have to

No.3: Skipp isn’t helpless, nor is he treated as such

this is really awesome bc trios typically have that one character that’s really bright and bubbly but that’s also often infantilised by both their peers and the fandom -> Vinnie and Stone are totally confident in his feral capabilities though, and apart from briefly scolding him when it was necessary- they don’t treat Skipp like a child {which is an extremely refreshing change of pace}

No.4: ✨FOUND FAMILY✨

you got the black cat, doberman, and orange cat all in one with these silly guys! + stone's small smile when they fist bump, my heart!

No.5: The black cat is a softie

surprising absolutely no one, Stone has a hard time saying no to his family. that's not to say he can't express a boundary, like how he feels about physical touch, but he does let Vinnie and Skipp cling to him for brief intervals -> he also is already accepting that Maggot's going to be a fixture from as soon as the other two are leaving the alley way

all in all, this pilot does a mind-blowing job of portraying archetypes in a new and refreshing way that doesn't feel forced -> the animation style is beautiful, the characters are multifaceted and complex and it walks the line between silly and badass perfectly

definitely go watch the pilot on youtube!

and if you enjoyed this, let me know if there are other things you want me to analyze or give my thoughts on :D

#ramshackle #ramshackle animated pilot #ramshackle pilot #vinnie ramshackle #stone ramshackle #skipp ramshackle #vinnie #stone #skipp #zeddyzi #indie animation #animation analysis #falling.star thoughts #ramshackle 2024 #youtube #found family #the ramblings of a fallen star

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lxstxr · 3 days ago

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For Later

summary: You get flustered at Emily's interrogation tactics, and the team teases you mercilessly for it. Set in 16x05.

word count: 0.7k

tags: established relationship, fluff, no use of y/n

a/n: this is my first time posting anything on tumblr (I've been lurking for a few years, but never had the balls to post anything) so I apologize if the formatting is slightly off for whatever reason. enjoy!

You’ve seen Emily in her element before. You’ve watched her command press briefings, direct teams in the field, and analyze crime scenes like a chessboard. But nothing could have prepared you for this version of her you're watching in the interrogation room.

Behind the one-way glass, you stand nursing a stale cup of coffee as Emily walks slowly in front of the unsub. Her voice is low and controlled as she leans on the table, fingers splayed. “Benjamin, you’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

The unsub visibly twitches. You do too, slightly choking on your coffee. Bailey blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

You clear your throat. “She’s leveraging a maternal dominance angle. Power dynamics. Very effective.”

Luke elbows you lightly. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” You elbow him back harder.

Inside, Emily keeps going, “My kid doesn’t like it, but whatever. Fuck him, you know?”

Bailey turns. “She has a kid?”

“No,” you and Luke both say, in sync.

The unsub smirks back at Emily. “That’s how you talk? About your son?”

She’s quick to respond. “That’s how you were spoken to, isn’t that right?”

Your jaw tightens. You’ve seen her in action before, but this is different. The control in her tone. The lean in her posture. The way her eyes lock onto his. You’ve heard that voice before, but never like this.

Luke whispers, “You’re sweating.”

“I am not.”

Benjamin begins to reveal details of the Sicarius case, stunning the room to silence. Inside, Emily keeps her cool. “You want to impress me? Tell me something I don’t know.”

Luke mutters, “There it is. The voice.” You squeeze your eyes shut.

With that, Benjamin Reeves delivered one final blow, “Whitfield County, Georgia. More buried treasure.”

Emily’s eyes flicker, just slightly. You feel like you need a cold shower.

Later, Emily enters the bullpen, cool as ever, paperwork in hand. The team is gathered around. You’re seated at your desk, pretending you weren’t turned into a puddle minutes earlier.

Luke stands, arms folded. “Nice work in there, Chief.”

JJ grins. “Yeah. ‘You’ve been a bad boy’ was definitely a first.”

Emily pulls a deep breath in through her nose.”Everyone heard about that already?” The team lets out a few chuckles, and you turn your eyes to the floor. “Well, I did what I needed to do, and it worked.”

“It worked on you, too,” Luke says, elbowing you. You shoot him a death glare.

Before you can fire back, your phone pings with a text from Penelope. “Heard about Prentiss’s mommy moment today. I can get you a copy of the recording. For later, just in case.” Your face turns beet red as you move to quickly flip the phone face down.

“Nothing.” You lunge. “Give it!”

Luke snatches the phone and reads it. “Oh my God.”

Emily, now curious, plucks the phone from his hand. She reads the text. Pauses. Then looks at you, smug. “For later, huh?” Your face is on fire, and the bullpen is howling.

You drop your head into your hands. “I hate all of you.”

Emily leans close, not even bothering to lower her voice. “Want me to recreate it for you?”

You groan. “You’re evil.”

She presses a kiss to the top of your head and smirks against your hair. “You love it.”

The bullpen is finally quiet. The team has trickled out one by one, with JJ and Luke heading to Georgia, and the teasing has dulled for now.

You stretch your legs out under your desk, still feeling the residual heat in your face. Emily leans back in a chair beside you, eyes closed for just a second, letting the chaos of the day slip off her shoulders. “I think Garcia’s actually going to send me that recording,” you say after a long pause.

Emily chuckles. “Make sure you label it educational material.”

You give her a sidelong glance. “I’m not going to escape this anytime soon, am I?”

She smirks, voice low and warm. “No, you’re not.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #divider by strangergraphics

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avelera · 7 months ago

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Analysis: Why Jayce broke up with Mel in Arcane 2.08

Since the finale episodes of Arcane dropped this morning, I've been going back and re-watching some of my favorite scenes, and I was struck by Jayce breaking up with Mel.

First of all, yeah, he clearly does break up with her, though I missed how formally he does so on my first watch-through. He does it in the Council chamber, just before Viktor attacks. But since they get interrupted, he finishes breaking up with her (after checking in with her) on the balcony later.

But what really struck me about the breakup wasn't in those scenes, but actually back in 2.07, when Jayce is alone in cavern in the darkest timeline. I definitely didn't catch on the first viewing that this is where he chose to break up with her.

In the background, you can hear Jayce in the depths of his despair and solitude starts going over in his mind all the steps that led him to where he is.

Here are some of the quotes he hears:

"I never asked for this!" - Himself to Viktor, trying to justify his actions up to that point just before Viktor leaves him.

"This research is everything, my whole life," a quote from one of his first conversations with Viktor but, more importantly, it establishes Jayce's entire raison d'etre up to that point. Hextech research was his life.

"He was my mentor, Mel, and I betrayed him," obviously is Jayce discussing the coup d'etat against Heimerdinger he orchestrated to save Viktor, but it was with Mel's assistance and urging.

"You must destroy it. It corrupts. Consumes." A quote from Heimerdinger, warning against Hextech. Which must feel especially prescient now that Jayce is stuff in the evil bombed-out future where Hextech destroyed the world.

"I was trying to create magic." Jayce to the Council to defend his Hextech research and save himself from banishment, but, he only mentioned magic at Mel's goading, which I would guess he's beginning to recognize now for what it was in retrospect.

"It's your time now, Jayce." Mel, part of her goading of Jayce into advancing Hextech research and his political career.

"Perhaps it's time for the era of magic." Mel's words on the night she saw Hextech for the first time, after helping Jayce and Viktor break into Heimerdinger's lab.

"You must destroy it." Heimerdinger about the Hexcore, again, probably feeling pretty prescient right now with Jayce literally in the pit of despair in a the evil Hextech future.

Finally, while looking out over the fire while clearly going nearly insane from the isolation, Jayce begins to hallucinate seeing Mel. But then, her image in the fire gives way to Viktor's.

The decision has been made there. It's not just Jayce reflecting on his two closest loved ones (as I thought the first time), rather, it is the moment Jayce makes his decision: he is picking Viktor over Mel. He has decided that the reason he is here in this terrible place is because of Mel, not Viktor. He is choosing his partner, going back to what they had before she became involved in their life. His new course is set.

Now, I want to preface the next part by saying I love Mel, she's a fascinating character, and though I ship Jayvik I also ship/shipped MelJayVik, so this isn't coming from a place of bias. I'm just analyzing the material when I say these flashbacks were Jayce rearranging the narrative in his head and realizing Mel's been manipulating and goading him in his pursuit of Hextech.

Given where he is when this is happening: starving, freezing, in pain, alone for weeks if not months in a stone box, slowly going insane, surrounded by the burnt corpses of people destroyed by Hextech, I'd say... yeah. His need for someone to blame is pretty understandable. He even starts whispering, "No!" in a panic at the memories in response to what she says in his mind.

So when we get to the Council chamber in the main timeline in 2.08, I'd argue that Jayce is spoiling for a fight. He's had months of agony to decide things are over with Mel and that he's angry at her. He wants to blame her for what happened to Viktor, for what happened to him, and he's in pain and he wants to lash out. The relationship is definitely over.

But then Mel is in pain too. And Viktor shows up, with his own autonomy, showing that they all had their shitty parts to play in this drama.

The attack by Viktor adds another element, Jayce was probably also mourning that he had to shoot Viktor at that point, another thing that was painful and made him want to lash out and blame others for this horrible place he's in emotionally and the horrific place he's been in physically until recently.

It's only after Viktor's attack though that Jayce realizes that this situation is complex, it's not all Mel's fault. It would be easier to just pin all the blame on Mel and make Jayce and Viktor her victims, but Viktor shows to him that he has his own agency and Jayce needs to be clear-eyed going forward about who he is saving, because it's not "Mel's victim". Viktor is his own person.

Jayce also remembers some of the care he once had for Mel when he catches her before she falls (in a tender moment I mistook for a full reconciliation between them the first time but no, it's just him remembering he cares for her wellbeing). Jayce can't trust her anymore, after realizing just how adept she was at manipulating him without his realizing, but he does still care for her as a person. And he's cooled off enough to address the pain she is clearly carrying.

(I admit, I do love this moment of him calling himself an ass, because I adore Jayce but it's a lovely beat of self awareness and really shows his growth as a person that he can say this to someone that just hours before he was squaring up to fight against and blame for all his misfortunes.)

But anyway, the moments you really see that it's over between Mel and Jayce:

When he doesn't explain to her what happened to him. That's not for her to know anymore. He's decided that they're not together or intimate anymore. And he's probably still hurting from realizing how she's used what he told her in the past to encourage/manipulate him to her own ends and therefore wary of sharing. This is also a reason for the breakup: he can't share the immense pain he's been in because he can't trust her anymore, and he knows it. It's over.

In the scene on the balcony when he turns away from her instead of towards her before offering his advice. Jayce is very touchy-feely, he always offers physical comfort to his loved ones. But there, he deliberately turns away instead of taking her in his arms and comforting her. Again: it's over between them. But he still respects her. So he reminds her of how indomitable she is, along with offering the slight backhanded compliment born of his distrust for her: she's never the passenger, she is always the one in control. He knows, because he's realized she used to control him.

I've mentioned in other meta that this season deals in a lot of comeuppance for events in S1, and this is arguably Mel's. She'll be ok, she's got magical sun powers and she's the head of a powerful house now. But she doesn't get to keep Jayce in her life as her lover anymore after what she did, because she did manipulate him, even if she had good intentions mixed with the self-interested ones.

The trust is simply gone now. But he cares for her and wishes her well, so, I'd argue they parted on as good of terms as could be done.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #jayvik #jayce talis #mel medarda #it's about their relationship but I'm not putting it in that tag because it could come across as anti #but I'm not anti Mel this is just analyzing the text

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sp1d3rzz · 1 year ago

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PLS DO MORE PERVERT!MIDORIYA 🙏🙏

Pervert!Midoryia

pt.2

pt.1 here pt.3 here

WARNING !! : Pervy drawings and fantasized descriptions, and mention of a boner. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary : Bullying Midoriya was meant for fun, purely to keep you entertained. That is until he begins to fantasize about your actions.

A/N : Thank u so much for the req anon (о´∀`о) Keep sending in requests my loves !

It's horrible of him, and he knows that. To obsess and fetish over the one thing in his life that keeps him on a constant edge. His bully.

When you first began to pick on Midoriya, he figures that he'll just keep a safe distance. He doesn't bother you, and you don't bother him.

But once it becomes a daily game of cat and mouse, he realizes there must really be no escape to this. And he especially realizes that when he begins to fantasize about all you do to him.

The way his name sounds coming out of your mouth gets him hot all over. Immediate goosebumps that become easily noticeable if you pay attention.

Or when you throw an insult at him to hurt his feelings and ruin his self esteem, but it only gives him a boner because he likes the feeling of you putting him where he belongs.

You don't even notice till the day you snag his journal.

"What's the deal with this notebook of yours, huh?" your arms reach over from behind him and snatch the burnt, rusted notebook. You can tell he's had this for awhile.

Caught off guard, he quick fwips! around to grab it back. "Wait! Don't-" his face falls when he sees the spine bend open as your eyes scan over a page.

His cheeks gets red to the point his freckles are barely visible, and he scrambles to stand from his seat and take back his journal.

Though you quickly stop him with a hand to his chest to push him back down. "So defensive." You huff with a shake of your head.

You flip through a couple more pages as Midoriya stares at you in horror. He really hopes you dont get to the one page, he'd die if anyone were to see it.

His heart is racing, and his hands are trembling, anxious to know what you might do. Maybe you'll throw his book away? Maybe slap him and tell the whole class about his dirty secret?

The world is against him, because as soon as he thinks that, he sees your grin curve into a face of disgust.

Your eyes widen as you now go over every page more carefully, taking your time to actually analyze it. And he swears he's going to dig his own grave if you continue.

But when you slowly close the journal, and clear your throat with a flushed face, he gets confused. Why aren't you mad at him?

"Dork.." you mumble before shoving the notebook into his face and walking away.

Your friends follow behind you, asking why you let him off so easy this time. Though a small, 'felt nice today' leaves your lips so they quit pestering you.

But what they don't know is how Midoriya has written pages and pages all filled with you and your information. From the sketches of you when you don't notice he's there, to anatomy practice of your naked body he had imagined.

The top to bottom pages filled with filthy theories on what you might taste like, how you prefer sex, and the toys you may use.

The most noticeable thing was a drawing of you at an angle behind his head. Mouth agape with eyes teary and stained with mascara. He had you on his lap, green hair tangled from your hand clenching it.

One things for sure, you'll never see that nerd the same again.

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ilianasbruce · 10 days ago

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“The man on the altar.”

word count: 3,400

summary: Bruce understands what religion meant

warnings: full +18 content with some religious themes. minors do not interact, please.

notes: hello, hello!!! i’m back with a piece that had been rounding around my head for a long time. it’s actually a small one that i dreamed about when i thought of ‘what would Bruce think of sex if he was young and in love with his wife?’. i highly believe that young lover Bruce’d be obsessed with his wife; he’d be following her until the end of the world, she’d mean too much to him. and he’d mirror her actions, her love, and learn about the physical intimacy. this piece will be exploring the thought as i did in my previous works but i plan to sweeten and enrich my vision in my future pieces.

i must say that Bruce that i am writing and analyzing based on my views; i heavily try to write and create him based on his experiences, thoughts, and views of the world through my own reading and listening to comics. i had seen enough content about Bruce’s terrible representation, both as a father and lover and it is so heartbreaking to see them constantly. Anyone who portrays him in that way, specifically comic writers and fiction writers, either way, do not want to know about him or they just do not know him — just writing him out of his character. i’m not here to judge, i’m a writer here, too but i wish people could write based on what they really saw in him, not the constant circling of his constant representation. i am very open to your ideas, notions, and views, beautiful strangers!! please, if you have any of them, come to my ask-aways and let’s discuss them!! thank you so much for your reading and the support of my fiction. i love you!!! happy reading!! ♡

Bruce was nearly a virgin before you. There was no shame in that. He had been bruised, stained with a tragedy throughout his life; unable to escape from the haunting echoes. He had no time or chance for anything beyond.

Bruce had been crumbled with his own wrath. His rage had him in the situations that resulted in the person who was today. His initial catalysts weren't coming from No man’s land. It had a name. Tragedy was a mere word for someone or people who only knew the paper meaning of the word. No one knew the exact meaning, sense, or form of tragedy, except the ones who had lived through it. The ones who had seen, felt, maddened by its unmistakable seconds of it.

Bruce knew that very well.

Tragedy bent Bruce in a way that could not be remedied. It gave him some traits, woke the early thoughts in his small mind without his comprehension of their meaning. The blood-covered concrete under his ricocheting gaze, in the middle of his beloved parents’ freshly warm corpses and his mother’s beautiful eyes — all created a bunch of sentiments, views of the world. And they shaped him in the ways.

Anger and justice — those were the ones rooted in Bruce since the tragedy, the first beliefs craved in his mind, those he couldn't breathe the air without. They were in a sense opposite of each other. How could an outraged person know what justice was from their chaotic vision? To know and understand justice?

Justice could be done with an open mind. Fairness and proper judgment must be the main characteristics of the man who sought justice. Not the anger. Not the wrath. Not the rage.

Bruce was painted with anger, that was why he never understood the need. He was blinded by the darkness of his tragedy. He chose wrath as a lamp and reached the destination he desperately searched for.

And there he was. Tall and ready when he hit his destination.

But an unfamiliar ache started in him when you came into his life; when you became his. Bruce felt it, the ache, as he felt anger for the first time, the meaning of it truly after the tragedy. And he felt the exact, familiar sense when he discovered something new, just as wrath itself before.

The ache formed itself into a need as he felt deeper. Need had started to consume him day by day when you were flourishing in this stormy life. Oh, how it burned him, left him confused but aware at the same time. He wanted you to be his desperately, the sense too intense as he laid his eyes on you every single time. He knew what it represented, what it threatened and he did not feel any shame about it. So, when you became his wife, he got what he scorched for — you.

You two had your first time on your honeymoon, away from Gotham for a few days. You were both young and in love, inexperienced and eager for each other. Bruce was your first in many things and physical intimacy was one of them. Sex was something that you did not engage in before him, partially making you equal to him. It was him with whom you learned about the intimacy between the lovers.

Two lovers — one belonged to the Sun and the other to the darkness. But Bruce refused to belong to anything, except you.

His loveliest, prettiest lover girl.

You tasted so sweet, melted in his mouth every time he kissed you. Or you dripped on his tongue delightfully when his handsome face was between your soft thighs feasting on you, which became the explicit definition of ‘heavenly’ in his terminology. You spun in Bruce’s mind ferociously — unconscious of your vision in him. You got him on his knees, got him obsessed with you.

He could not stand any chance against your love. He could not dare to leave your warmth. He altered his angles to the opposite directions, to the ones that he did not heed what they meant. He was blinded by you — his precious Sun in the dusk-covered life of his. And only Alfred did see his obsessive devotion to you.

Alfred, who brought Bruce up like his own blood son and raised him after the tragedy until Bruce left him for twelve years to come back with the unimaginable idea. Alfred, who sometimes riled Bruce up with his persistent worries about his safety and his recklessness about his own body, was stunned for the first time by how Bruce was towards you. How Bruce’s sharp and keen eyes were glinting when he heard your voice. He saw Bruce’s almost unhealthy love for you with his bare eyes.

He saw Bruce in different forms. He saw the silent delight in Bruce’s spirit when you were at Manor, doing something trivial. He saw his eased shoulders or the quiet excitement in his posture when he was with you. He saw how he appreciated and lavished you. He saw how he followed you as the Northstar. He saw, he heard and he was never expecting his son to be smitten like this.

So, when Bruce gave you his last name, his consumerism started, too.

Oh, after your first-ever sex, you nearly started to doing it once a week for the whole month. Him being tired? No worries, he had you under him with languid, deeper thrusts. Him being still energetic after being beaten up by thugs and your gorgeous eyes filled with sleep? He got you, ‘baby’. He circled around and came back to you. Again and again, with obsession and devotion.

You gave Bruce something he lacked and ached — peace. Peace meant everything to him in every sense, including the bed. Once the cold sheets he slept for the recovery or he flinched from them with nightmares, now were the real bed. The bed he had once heard the meaning of, but never knew until you slept in. His expensive, crispy sheets now were marked by your scent. Or the nightstand had your book. Anything in that damned room that he did not cross until his body couldn't handle the insomnia now belonged to you, too.

Oh, that room had seen Bruce’s lovemaking to you as the whole witness. It had absorbed your sweet sounds when he thrust into you. Your soft ‘Bruce’s, or his hushed curse words echoed through the room.

You taught Bruce many things during your marriage, even though you were just as young as him. In fact, you were a few years younger than him. If you did marry when Bruce was twenty-six or almost twenty-seven, you were just twenty-two or twenty-three.

Young and free, new romantics.

Your love taught physical intimacy to him. You were sweetly affectionate and loving — his lovely girl who also looked so good on him. The first time he let you ride him was when it was a rainy afternoon and he was at Manor. He did have nothing to do so at the moment, it was either early for the Batman or the city was quiet that Bruce wasn't in the cave. Must of been something that got you two worked up and you ended up making out with him on his lap.

It was you and him on the armchair, in the reading room of Wayne Manor. He kissed you like he was feasting on you. It started slow, dragging his fingers under your white tight-covered legs while his lips honored you. Then, he gave you the kisses one by one instead of taking your breath away with one. You couldn't get enough of him; you never did. So, you pulled him over and over again when he broke the kiss for another peck on your sweet lips.

You were pulling him by his dark hair, now messy between your fingers while trying to mend the craving between your legs. He must have sensed that to offer you ride his thigh first. When he put you in the right position, he murmured ‘Ride it, baby.’ to your lips before capturing you in the next kiss. But when you whispered a confused ‘But,’ to the broken kiss, he knew what he had to do.

That afternoon he carried you to your bedroom and stripped you until your delicate set, you sitting on his hips. You looked so adorable in your matching set, looking into his eyes with a flushed face and reddish lips from his kisses. His fingers wandered through your soft skin, over the silky material of your panties, so warm under his fingertips while you reached for another kiss.

Bruce had to teach you how to be on top since you were a virgin to the experience. Oh, how he gladly enjoyed being your tutor, but in fact, he hadn't done this sufficiently, either.

That one afternoon could be one of the best of times in Bruce’s life. All your softest sounds from your lips, your flustered cheek against his shoulder, and your scorching, viscous walls around his cock could be the death of him in the sweetest way. Your hands were on his bare biceps, nails digging into his pale skin from the sensation of the new angle you two were trying. He was ushering you with sweet words of ‘That’s my girl.’, ‘It’s all yours, baby, ride it.’ and you were glowing with his thickness.

His hands were around your thighs, helping for you the first time — not that he minded to have his hands on you. His eyes were half-lidded with the pleasure your pussy gave him, head rested against the headboard of his bed.

He could be doing that for the whole day if he could and he would not be drunk on you enough. But you were still sensitive to your inexperience and his stamina since Bruce had you on your back against the sheets every week. And he did not want his pretty girl unable to enjoy sex as much as he did.

Speaking of the devil, Bruce unquestionably had insane stamina for his age. Both on the streets and in bed; he could fuck you for hours without sweat on his forehead. All you had to do was lay prettily for him, your legs and arms around him— a habit of yours, to feel him closer as much as you could — as he thrust you.

Or he could eat you out, no, devour you to the point you’d be whimpering about how ‘it was too much’. It was never too much for him, not when he had you all to himself forevermore. Your legs around his head, probably on his broad shoulders, as he rolled his tongue between your folds. Sometimes he’d just eat you fully, with no fingers involved — just to see how much you could go. Or sometimes, his fingers would be diving into you in and out while his tongue worked in your pussy. You were a mess every time, fingers gripping the hem of your pillow or in his messy, inky hair with no chance against him.

He one time ate you out just because you were irritated with him due to his reckless driving and jumping from the Batmobile through the Gotham Bridge. You and Alfred were having almost a heart attack on the comms, just looking at each other in a dead silence. And Bruce? He shut you up that whole night with his lips and fingers in your cunt. You were too dizzy and sensitive to stay mad at him, and he was nuzzling you like a puppy with exhaustion, making you two fall asleep as soon as your heads hit the pillow.

He knew you so well, your character and your body as if he was your husband for ten years, instead of ten months. He was overly good at analyzing; he could be into the detective arc for a year but when you were in his bed every night, he had learned you as the back of his hand.

Bruce loved to come back to you and nuzzle you — he had been mirroring your affection and giving you what you gave him every day. He’d come back, straight to the shower after his patrols. And he’d glimpse at your sleeping form under the quilts. Or barely awake one with a relieved, small smile on your lips that he came back in one piece. You’d find him holding you tightly or cuddling you. Cuddling most of the time led to his favorite position when you were thinking about sex.

Missionary.

Any version of that position was you two’s favorite.

Bruce thrived for you when you were looking up at him with your prettiest eyes, your hair slightly messy on your pillow creating a vision for him, and your hands on his shoulders to keep him close to you? Whispering or moaning into his mouth when he kissed you as well as dived in between your warm thighs? Letting him show you how much he loved the bed you were in? You made his head spin with your intoxicating love.

Bruce had you in that position every single time. You loved it, too, there was no lie in that. You loved him so much that you were aching and wanting him to be close to you. And it was the only position you had him as you wished.

You wanted to be with your Bruce skin-to-skin, face-to-face as much as you could as if he’d disappear suddenly. You made it clear whenever he was buried inside of you so sweetly, so thickly and your legs around his waist, calling his name with love. Either your arms around his neck or your nails scratching his back muscles as he fucked you. You both were touch-starved for each other and you were fixing that in sex.

Bruce knew your clinginess all too well and he’d reassure you during sex every time. When he could see how tight you held him, he’d murmur ‘I am here, baby.” or “Not going anywhere, my love.”. You were just so sweet, wanting him as much as he wanted you.

Bruce made love to you. That was undeniable. He did not thrive in sex for some stupid time-wasting activity or weird position trying. Sex wasn't something that crossed his mind heavily during his twelve years of wandering. But if it came to his head, the idea of it was too intimate for him. Bruce was a lover. And he’d adore his beloved in the most intimate way.

And when he was in Gotham after twelve years, twenty-five years old, and being perceived by the Gothamites as the ‘handsome bachelor’ or in the next year trying to work out on his playboy act, known as ‘sex appeal’, ‘player’ or ‘definition of sex’, he despised it. He loathed it because that was not who he was but he had to be for the sake of his dual identity. He had been touched by people, gazed at by people and it disgusted him. They treated him as a mystery and dream, tried to touch their repulsive hands on his body; even a hand on his arm became an invasion of him. But people did not care and he started to learn to set it aside.

However, when he became your lover, your husband, he was at peace and the only person he wanted to be touching him was you. And Bruce loved to be intimate with you. Thus, sex became his favorite act.

What was the meaning of sex when he couldn't see your beautiful face when he was inside you with his deep, languid pace for both of you to see you were the one he belonged to? What was the meaning of it if your soft skin wasn't under his rough fingers, his lips to worship you? To mark you with his lips like a devoted prayer as his offering at your altar? Kissing every inch, every curve of your body, knowing it, and owning it as a map as his great treasure. Marking you with his burgundy-colored stains to show who loved you.

What was the meaning of it if he did not find his peace? He had found it truthfully, in many aspects. One of them was that there were the nights he was irritated and when he moved in and out of your core, you bestowed him an idea unconsciously. He was silent on the tongue, only his breathing — he was always silent when he was frustrated — just focused absentmindedly. You noticed him since he came home, slid under the covers without uttering a word. Your hushed voice pulled him out of his vexation, your ‘Baby, w-what’s wrong?’ altered his senses. He realized that he had someone who could listen to him. Why not to try? Now, he was talking to you about his anger — only his anger —as he made love to you.

“I,” he muttered through his breath one night after his patrol. It was four in the morning and he was furious. “I almost lost it, baby.” he thrust his hips at a slightly rough pace, having you with whimpers and clutched hands on his shoulders.

“Fuck, he almost killed that small girl before I did something. Gonna lose my mind.”

He’d fuck his anger out himself, try to escape from the constant adrenaline of his rage. And you were so loving towards him to watch him with fluttering lashes and flustered cheeks under him. Offering your small words or worries to him with your sigh of pleasure.

He’d speak about what itched his brain. Sometimes either how he was terrible that night or he didn't know if he could keep up and you were there under him, kissing his lips as he confessed. Uttering words of ‘It’s okay.’, ‘M-My hero.” or ‘I love you so much.’ on his lips. What was the meaning of sex if this was not the thing he had during it?

And there were the times he was beaten up.

Truly.

His muscles were aching in the shower at three thirty-five one night after he made it home, to you. He had bruises on his skin, his jaw, and arms, all reddish and burgundy. You caught his gloomy eyes in the dim light of your bed lamp with the sleep in your posture. You’d wait for him sometimes, he’d not let you stay awake for him, but you did. How could you not?

He’d look haunted on those nights as if he was back in that alley again as if he was reliving the exact moments. You’d never know what made those memories revive in his mind again, but you knew when he slipped under the covers, to your arms. He’d do what he knew was right because he knew what you should do. And you did.

He’d slip in you with no protection — just bare and him. As if he was testing you if you’d let him, his real self to love, to have you. It was a trick of his mind. He’d play with his pace; sometimes rough, sometimes gentle. He would be lost mentally but there in your arms, in skin and bones. You’d pull him for many breathless kisses as much as you could, to ease and reassure him that he was there in your arms, not alone, not scared anymore. Your husband and safe in your arms.

He’d press his forehead against yours until he came with a repressed groan in his throat, his seed dripping between your folds, his breath hot against your lips. You’d stay there for a long time, just like that. Pressed up to each other, breathing and intertwined in love. He loved the feeling of you; the scent of yours as a reminder for him that you were there with him, wrapped around him as he was nuzzling you. He’d feel better, so much better than before he made it home.

So, if sex did not involve you, he was not interested. As if sex was created just because of you, for him to consume and love you. You made his bed a shrine. For both confessing and worshiping you. Bruce was never a religious man, he was the man of science. But for you, he became the one.

He now understood the essentials of someone’s religion. How those people were strict and at the same time, safe with their religious beliefs. How they felt the connection, the yearning to be close to their deity. How they thought highly, how they envisioned them as remarkable. He saw that, felt that, and had that in his own house, in his own bed.

thank you so much for reading! ♡

#batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x batmom #dc comics #batman and batmom as newlyweds!!!#bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader smut #batman smut

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