#the same thing that's been wrong my entire life!!!! and you refused to help me with!!!! fuck you

[ethaninthewilde]

I've had hip issues since I was born, hip dysplasia and perthes disease and interior hip anteversion (my femur's rotated inwards 50°, then my foot's rotated outwards about the same) and my femur on one leg is 4-5cm shorter than the other, developed arthritis at 15 and then recurrent bursitis. I was on the waitlist for surgery as a kid and it got scheduled and cancelled three times, then never ended up happening. Financial issues meant I couldn't get it privately, then when I moved to NSW I had to get on the waitlist over here and went straight back to the bottom of the list.

I got offered a cancellation spot three weeks from now. I know it's not going to fix everything wrong with it, it's the first of three surgeries I need, but once I have this first one the next two are guaranteed to be only months apart, and I'm so happy about it I'm trying not to cry on the train. My physio says these surgeries should fix about 95% of the pain I experience, which has gotten so bad over the last year that I regularly can't sleep without codeine, it wakes me up in the middle of the night, and sometimes I just can't sleep at all.

I'll be spending christmas alone in the hospital most likely, but I literally don't care!!! i'm so happy. i'm so relieved. this doesn't feel real. this feels life saving. god.

[hoonatic]

sunday mornings | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: sunday mornings are best spent slowly. but there are sheets to be changed and a beautiful boyfriend to stare at. pairing: idol!sunghoon x reader (established relationship) genre: domestic fluff + some hurt/comfort. it was only supposed to be tooth-rotting sweetness, but the sad demons within me won a bit, i fear. word count: 1364 note: this was also supposed to be shorter than it is, but what can i say? i’m a yapper. (also can’t believe i’m writing a fic again but needed to get this one out i guess) enjoy!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the sun had risen, but you certainly hadn’t.

after weeks apart, you finally had your boyfriend back in your shared apartment, in your shared bed. it was a sunny, summer morning with no (real) responsibilities to take care of. you were happy, drowsy, and with the love of your life. you just wanted to bask in the moment.

“baby, get up. i need to change the sheets.”

sunghoon obviously did not share the sentiment.

you ignored the slight tugging at your sleeve, choosing to flail your body and turning back to him dramatically. you knew you’d regret that soon enough, given the unhinged level of impatience your boyfriend had. but if it got you a few more seconds of peace, then so be it.

a loud screech of your name and one “wake upppp!!!” later, you felt the regret seeping into every pore of your body.

“hoon, it’s so early. please…”

“it’s almost 9:30. i’ve already showered and i’m all ready to spend the day with you!”

as you continued to ignore him, the tugging became more and more aggressive. soon enough, you felt your entire upper body being lifted. but two could play the petty game - you kept your eyes shut, refusing to look at the thief stealing your sleep.

“baby, how could you rob me of seeing your beautiful eyes?”

“i dunno, maybe the same way you’re robbing me of my beauty rest???”

“beauty rest??? if you get any more beautiful, i’ll have to start dressing you in full-body armor.”

the cringe made you peek open an eye, “you’ve been spending way too much time with heeseung.” but all you could see was his big grin.

“maybe so, but it finally got you to open your eyes, so the full-body chills saying that gave me were worth it.”

“hoon,” you groaned and closed your eyes again, “i just changed the sheets last week. i can change them tomorrow or something if you really want. you don’t want to just laze around together today?”

he didn’t respond as quickly as you’d expect. the silence forced your eyes open - he was biting his lip and staring at you with an unreadable expression. but before you could ask what was wrong, he spoke first,

“that’s exactly it though…”

“what do you mean?” you were fully awake now.

“you spend enough time alone, maintaining this home,” he started, “i’m away all the time and i haven’t been able to help out. this is one of the rare chances to finally start pulling my weight around here. please let me have this?”

you could start to see the guilt swimming around in his eyes and you hated it. “hoon, you act like you’re a deadbeat boyfriend leaving me to do everything alone. baby, you have a job that you love, are amazing at, and that pays our bills. if that means i have to do the sheets, that’s okay.” 

“but you have a job too.”

“because i’m stupid and want to work. seriously hoon, don’t let these things bother you. you give me everything and more than i could ever ask for. we are in this together.” you were stroking his cheek at this point. seemingly satisfied with your response, he nuzzled into your hand, grateful for the comfort.

“are you feeling a little better at least?” you asked, voice patient and hopeful. he nodded and turned to kiss your palm, making you giggle a bit at the ticklish contact. he then shook his dark hair, damp locks lightly spraying you before suddenly pulling you out of bed.

“i’m feeling amazing and like i can take on the world…which includes these bedsheets! now get up so i can change them quickly and spend the rest of the day spoiling you with the love and affection you’ve been starved of.”

you wanted to argue with his statement and accuse him of tricking you out of bed, but knew you shouldn’t. you understood him more than anyone in the world, so you were going to give him this…even if the bed was really, really warm.

so you got up completely, choosing to stand closely in case you could help in any way. but his notorious stubbornness fought you off, gently swatting your hand any time you tried to pry the fitted sheet up.

“baby,” he scowled at you while holding a pillow, “just stand there and look pretty. let your big ol’ boyfriend take care of this for you.”

“big???” you almost saw the moon with how far you rolled your eyes. “your biceps grow half a millimeter and suddenly you–” before you could finish your statement, you felt the impact of the pillow to your face.

“hey!”

“that’s not what your stickers were saying whenever i sent gym selfies to you.”

damn, he got you there. you kept your mouth shut, glaring at his laughing silhouette while he continued to move about. choosing peace, you decided to let that go and finally take the chance to admire your boyfriend.

not only were his arms looking magnificent with every movement he made to change the sheets, but you could just tell how he poured his heart into everything he did. from the bedsheets to his career, he never half-heartedly did anything. he was humming their latest comeback song as he took on the folding of the fitted sheet, and his pride in his passion radiated off of every cell in his body. you were so proud of him, and you could feel your own body almost burst out of pure affection.

after a few minutes, the used sheets and pillowcases were all neatly in his arms, ready for the washer. you giggled a bit before speaking, “leave it to you to make even dirty sheets look clean. i’ll start setting up the new sheets.”

you could tell he wanted to argue, but he knew better.

while he got the washer running, you finished putting down your fluffiest comforter - you had bought it while he was away. you wanted him to have the best during the well-deserved time off he had.

“hoon!” you cheered excitedly when you saw him approaching the doorway. dragging him to sit down in the middle, “try out the new sheets! i bought them for when you came back!”

sunghoon ran his hands across it and patted them a few times for good measure. wordlessly, he grabbed you by the waist and settled your body between his legs. he hugged you loosely, yet lovingly, staring up at you with his chin on your torso.

“thank you, i love you.” such simple, yet meaningful words. you felt butterflies in every corner of your soul.

after a few more comforting seconds of him playing with the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly dancing across the skin that peeked out from under it, you decided to have a bit more fun. 

you quickly took his hands off your back and pushed him to lay back into the bed. you grabbed both sides of the comforter and wrapped him up in it. the best part of it all? he just let you do it, purposely laying limp with a big, curious grin on his face.

“there!” you exclaimed, jumping onto the blanket burrito that was your boyfriend, “now you’re trapped with me forever.”

“it’s not being trapped if i want to be here.” with only his face free, sunghoon smiled up at you, fangs practically piercing your heart with love. you became too flustered to speak, so you took revenge on him instead, planting kisses all over his face.

for a second, you thought he’d shy away a bit. but instead he stuck his head out even more, turning his face to give your lips more access to any piece of untouched skin. you took advantage and continued to give loud, happy pecks, your hands squishing his face. he was finally basking in the moment you had been begging him to all morning, happiness reaching the crinkles of his eyes.

yes, the eventual tour would come soon enough to steal him away. but for now, you were content. for now, this sunday morning was for just you and him.

[leonawriter]

Who Killed Goro Akechi?

Titled thus because I was just going through the scene right after Mementos merges with reality, after they've failed to defeat the grail, and "Igor" tells Akira that he's lost the game.

And I'm like, ok, I've seen this a fair few times before. I know the script.

But then I was paying attention, and I just went WAIT WAIT WAIT HANG ON A MINUTE HERE.

"In accordance to the game's rules, the defeated must pay a price."

"Your life is forfeit."

"I sentence you to be executed."

And I was just... hang on. There's been more than one player in the game. If we go back to the earlier lines, "Igor" also says "You were mean to bring change to mankind, but it seems that was too much for you."

In a sense, all of this could also be applied to Goro Akechi.

Akechi was also forcing mankind to react and to change, albeit via chaos and uncertainty rather than encouraging people to stand on their own two feet the way the Phantom Thieves were trying to.

And what happens in the engine room?

Akechi loses the game.

He realises that Akira and the PT fooled him, and when he tries to get the better of them one last time, he fails. We often talk about how after he was defeated he "almost went over to their side" - but isn't that another aspect of his "defeat" in Yaldabaoth's eyes? Akechi admits, effectively, that he accepts the Phantom Thieves' way of doing things over his own.

And it's here that we get Cognitive Akechi, who comes in and starts talking about how the Captain (Shido) sees him, gives him an option to rejoin (or for the PT to switch sides), and.... hm, isn't that familiar?

Here's Caroline saying "If that's what our master wishes..." with Akira having a response tree of-

-"You're going to execute me?" -"Are you serious?" -or just plain being unable to speak (he could also be unspeakably angry, but he seems far more scared than angry, here).

Next, Akira refuses to die, because he has people relying on him.

I'm reminded of how with Akechi, once he's behind that bulkhead door, if you haven't finished his confidant he'll say something to the effect of "So my final enemy is a puppet of myself, how fitting."

If you have maxed his confidant? You get Joker telling him he can't die yet, as he has a promise to fulfil ("I'll hold onto your glove") with the implication that it's something that Akechi can use as motivation to want to keep living.

In both, it's "I can't die, I have a reason to live, and that reason is at least one other person."

When the twin wardens try to "execute" Akira, now in his Joker attire as his will of rebellion has manifested, Justine says "If our master orders so... then it cannot be helped..."

I'm reminded of how Cognitive Akechi was a being of pure servitude toward his Captain (master), Shido. If the Captain willed it, he'd even die for him.

This one feels similar, because the twins were never supposed to have "execution" as part of their duties at all, and both parties were pushed into a sense of unfailing loyalty to someone who never cared for them, and who warped their duties to something wrong.

In fact, I just went back to confirm the lines for Cognitive Akechi, and-

Yup.

Top is Cognitive Akechi saying "Captain Shido's orders... He has no need for losers." and the lower one is "Igor" saying "You have lost the game."

Basically, the same lines.

To the point that...

Cognitive Akechi: "Here, I'll give you one last chance. Shoot them."

God of Control: "I shall grant you an opportunity to make a deal with me."

Both times, it's clear that this is the wrong thing to do, and in both cases, the person being offered rejects said deal entirely - Akechi by shooting the switch to activate the bulkhead door, making it impossible for his cognitive self to attack the Phantom Thieves, and Akira by denying Yaldabaoth and reaffirming his bonds with the Thieves once he's told that they're also there.

I titled the post the way I did, because the way Shido is used by Yaldabaoth, I would not be surprised if Cognitive Akechi isn't just a product of Shido's mind protecting him against threats from, say, his own attack dog, but also?

This is Yaldabaoth's way to quite literally execute the first piece he started to play with, since Goro Akechi had failed as a Trickster and had "lost the game" - and as he and cognitive Akechi both say, losers end up dead.

So the question is - who really killed Akechi? Was it Shido's cognition? Was it Yaldabaoth? And was that cognition even an original part of Shido's palace in the first place, to that extent? How much was it "appropriated" at the "right" time, here?

There are far too many coincidences for me to pass it off as such

But the highlight for me at least, is this:

In both terms of Akira and Akechi's "executions," it's their sense of thinking and feeling that "I can't die, I have a reason to live, and that reason is at least one other person" that keeps them alive. And to the point, it's what keeps Akira's sense of rebellion so strong, and against nigh insurmountable odds.

If anything, it supports the fact that with Akechi's confidant maxed, he really does live, because that, too, echoes Akira's experience in the Velvet Room not even a full month later.

[toon-tales]

Here it is! Part three! Omg, I'm so excited for this!

Let's begin!

Ok, so, I know a lot of people say that Poppy hasn't changed a lot in the third movie but let me stop you right there!

Here's our girl, our happy-go-lucky queen cutely dressed and if I may, waiting for her boyfriend to compliment her looks like he always does

But then she notices something is wrong

You can see in the third pic, she was thinking how to approach the matter, because this, after all, is her boyfriend's old home, where he used to live with his grandmother. And in the fourth pic, her brows are even more furrowed

And here, oh my gosh this scene:

Can we look at Poppy, PLEASE?!

She's paying her full attention to Branch. She wants him to talk, to open up to her. HER EYES ARE FILLED WITH HOPE SHE'S ENCOURAGING HIM TO TALK TO HER

Skip, skip, skip, skiiiiiip, annnndddd here:

"I'm not hearing no!"

Branch doesn't look sad, he doesn't look mad, he doesn't look scared, he doesn't look uncomfortable, and most importantly, he doesn't look forced

True, Poppy was all "We are so in!", but unlike in Twt, she actually listened to Branch when he wanted to talk to her, and Branch actually talked when something he didn't like was going on. Do you even see how much they've grown?

Now, Poppy knows how hard life is without a sibling, and she doesn't want her boyfriend to just take his family for granted. Her heart was in the right place, people

And Branch didn't say no! He didn't refuse! They talked, different opinions and different thoughts and different mindsets, yet they worked things out

And yeah, I know Branch was probably thinking 'what have I gotten myself into' in this scene

But the entire movie was just Branch having issues and dealing with them. And Poppy was trying to help him. Also, in case you haven't noticed, things do not work out the way Poppy has imagined, just like in Twt, but the difference? Later, she didn't leave Branch alone to go save Floyd, she went with him. Now, I hear you saying: she went because Branch didn't say anything to her, while they fought in Twt, that's why she left him

Wrong!

Let me remind you that Branch lied to her, kept things from her, kept his feelings from her, didn't open up, and literally was being sarcastic and you can see she was hurt in this scene

And they're in a new relationship which Branch is already beginning with hiding stuff, yet she put all that behind because -I'm not gonna say boyfriend - the man she loved, needed her. So, yeah. She's changed

Takes a deep breath

Now, let's move on, shall we?

I just wanted to point out how Poppy was looking at Branch when he was trying to yet again hide his feelings. She knows what's up

Moving on to this scene:

The way she's telling them to include Branch? The pure happiness and excitement on her face for him! PLEASE?! May I remind you that SHE WASN'T SINGING WITH THEM BUT WAS THIS HAPPY FOR BRANCH?!

Now, I've already talked about the scenes I'm going to talk about now in the analysis posts, but I'm gonna copy-paste them here because I don't want you people going to those posts, then return to this one and lose your focus and vibe

You have Branch, whose brothers' return has reopened scars he's been trying to close for so long, and has just found out his brother is being held captive, and is now in a rescue mission to save him and sing the perfect family harmony, the same thing that they failed miserably at the last time so they walked out and never talked to each other again, comforting his girlfriend. Poppy needed time, needed him, and he was ready to give her all the time she needed and stay with her. Proof? He didn't move until she has left first, ensuring she was ready to leave

Then we have Poppy, who has just found out her boyfriend has been hiding secrets from her, and watched as he reluctantly agreed to reunite with his brothers, and discovered she had a sister that she knew n o t h i n g about, and that this sister was so afraid to leave her safe place and go with her, deciding to go help Branch save his brother. She took one last glance at the walls separating her from Viva, then walked towards Rhonda, silently signaling she was ready to leave.

They were both dealing with stuff, needed time to open up/stay, yet each one thought of the other

Then this scene was SOMETHING ELSE-

"Where are you going?"

"To save Floyd, alone. I didn't need them growing up and I don't need them now." He didn't even look back when he said, "What are you doing?"

And the look of disbelief on her face. "What do you mean? I'm coming with you!"

He literally gave her a blind eye, didn't look at her. He didn't want to get weak. "Why bother? Aren't you gonna leave me eventually anyway?" He was certain. He didn't wait for any reassurances because he didn't want to hear any and live a lie again. "Everyone else does."

But despite that, Poppy did NOT give up on him

"I have been by your side from the moment we've met, and you've been by mine. Let's give each other some credit here."

'and you've been by mine' this wasn't about her, but about THEM. This line has so much depth and meaning for their relationship

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you."

He started with the apology because he knew what he just said was WRONG. He knew she wasn't leaving, they've always been there for each other. And I don't think he thanked her for coming, maybe for reminding him? I mean, that's Branch we're talking about, he would surely have thoughts and insecurities about people leaving him

But Poppy's always there to remind him that she's always there

His mission is her mission. She was willingly going for an insane rescue mission, and face people BRANCH HIMSELF didn't know anything about, all the while trying to deal with the separation between her and Viva. But she was going with him. Because that's just them

All they wanted was for the other to be happy

And in the end? It worked out just fine

So, to sum up this post, and the previous two: no, Branch isn't perfect like we claim, nor Poppy is, too. Hiding things? Sure, that happens. Lying? Happens as well. Disagreements? Oh, yeah, lots of those. But in the end of the day? They work things out

Branch is perfect for Poppy, and Poppy is perfect for Branch

That's just love, and it doesn't have to be perfect all the time

Sooooo, that's it? Omg that was fuuuun!

Anyway, as usual, feel free to add or comment on anything!

Part one

Part two

[avelera]

I'm curious about your interpretation for post-hexcored viktor left jayce, and what you think he was planning on doing there before he was lead towards forming a cult. The first bit may sound weird, seeing as it seems obvious that it was, because it seems obvious to most that it's because he felt betrayed by Jayce after being revived with the hexcore after he'd been promised it would be destroyed. (thus all the divorce paper jokes, which are admittedly very funny) But... that doesn't seen entirely accurate to me. Or at least not the the only part of it, in part because he later invites Jayce down to the commune to see it and we never get an explanation as to how and why that changed - what happened that lead. And in the poke-wakeup conversation with Jayce, it seems important to me that the first thing he brought up was "what am i?", not "what happened?", or "are you okay?" In my take, there's context clues and backstory stuff that can help us infer the dots he's philosophically connecting and recontextualization he's going through in those moments (that then leads to a *further* recontextualization, and then one after that. SO much of this season on viktor's side is him internally going "hmm. apparently my entire thesis statement On How People and The World work was wrong. allow me to amend that and then act accordingly", is2g) of course, I'm not sure my take on How Deeply He's Thinking About This completely gels with your take on all his altruism is a subconscious excuse and front he made to justify his selfishness, so I'm just really curious to hear your thoughts on the subject!

I need to be clear: I do not think ALL of Viktor’s selflessness is a front!

Dear lord, he’s one of the most pacifistic, kind, generous, good-hearted people in the whole show. I do not want to imply at all that Viktor doesn’t actually care about other people!

If anything, my argument is that he cares SO MUCH about other people that when HE as an individual person needs something, like his partner to BE there for him when he’s feeling scared and alone and he wants HELP finding a way to save his own life, Viktor is literally so selfless and kind and altruistic he DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO ASK. He can’t forgive himself for prioritizing himself as an individual even when he has maybe weeks left to live, when by any measure he’d be a higher priority of urgency than the big systemic issues he’s hoping to address.

When I say Viktor is lying to himself it’s because he’s truly desperate and has spent so long thinking of others that he can’t conceptualize of how to focus on his own urgent needs. And then, when he does fully commit to saving himself, Sky dies horrifically, and it spirals Viktor into even deeper despair. He’s literally suicidal when he asks Jayce to destroy the Hexcore. It’s kind of no wonder Jayce ignores him on that front, he saw Viktor about to jump and then ask him to destroy the Hexcore, which is the same thing as jumping as far as Jayce knows (since he doesn’t know about Sky). Honestly, in most circumstances, Jayce would be unequivocally doing the right thing by saving Viktor’s life and refusing to indulge his suicide ideation by destroying his one hope in the first place.

I know you mostly asked about other stuff but honestly, it’s super up to interpretation. Fortiche is very good at offering multiple reasons for anything that we see. Maybe Viktor left because the Hexcore is controlling him, maybe he saw the weapons blueprints and gave up on Jayce, maybe he’s trying to protect Jayce by getting away, maybe he is just that fed up about the broken promise. Something weird and fucky is definitely going on IMO which is why I personally don’t buy that Viktor is totally in control there and there’s some level of Hexcore influence or mind control.

But since this isn’t prose and we’re not inside the character’s head, it’s all up to an individual viewers interpretation what’s going on and how much is Viktor. I’ve done numerous posts on how influenced I think Viktor is, why I think he left, etc and I can link those here in a bit but the newer and more pressing thing for me was clarifying: I don’t think Viktor is selfish. I think he’s so selfless he struggles to voice and frame his own dire selfish needs in a way he finds forgivable even to himself which unfortunately obfuscates their urgency to others, for example, framing his urgent person needs to Jayce as big systemic issues that will take years if not decades to address. I think Jayce in that instance could be forgiven for not seeing a couple days or weeks of detour as a big deal in the face of gigantic societal issues like how better mining equipment in the Undercity could help them, because he didn’t grasp that Viktor was talking about his own urgent needs.

Anyway I might add some links to this soon but I hope this helps for now.

[spider-stark]

THINGS CHANGE

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Your ex-boyfriend, Peter Parker, finds out that you're planning on going out with Harry Osborn, and he's definitely not happy about it.

Warnings - Sexual situations (no actual smut), slight degradation kink if you squint, angst

a/n - another random little thing I wrote about Peter in-between writing for Infinitely You. considering a part two, but we will see! lemme know what you think :)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

“You seriously can’t expect me to be ok with this!” 

The sound of his voice had your blood boiling, anger instantly coursing through your veins as you realized just how domineering his tone had become. He was purposely trying to push you to your limit, seeing just how far he could go before you would finally break. 

“I don’t care if you’re okay with it, Peter!” You snapped at him, not bothering to even look over your shoulder at the boy as you both trailed through the halls of Oscorp, Peter following at your heels like a lost puppy. “And last I checked I don’t need to ask for your permission when making my own decisions.” 

“You can’t go out with him.” Peter grumbled from behind you, ignoring your words entirely. He respected your decisions, he really did. But it wasn’t his fault that you made such terrible ones, he thought to himself. “He’s a total dick.” 

The comment stopped you in your tracks, swiftly turning on your heel and looking up to stare directly at the annoying boy that refused to just leave you alone. “Guess you two have something in common then.” 

He narrowed his eyes at the gab. “What do you even see in him? I thought you hated his little rich kid attitude.” 

You hated the way he mocked your voice as he spoke. Hated the way he mimicked the phrase you had used to describe Harry Osborn so many times in the past. Yet, he wasn’t wrong.

You did hate the way Harry used to act around you–constantly flaunting his fathers fortune–expecting you to fawn over him like all the other girls that came his way. But things had changed after you took on an internship at Oscorp. Harry realized that his pompous act wasn’t working on you, and the closer the two of you got the more you realized it was just that–an act–and you had grown to like the person he actually was. 

“We both know that’s not who he really is.” Peter stayed silent, both of you knowing that he couldn’t argue with you. Harry was his best friend, and he was a good guy behind the flashy cars and his multibillion-dollar corporation. “And at least he makes time for me.” 

The comment had hit its mark, hurt flashing across Peter’s face as the words cut into him. You didn’t let yourself falter, didn’t let yourself feel the guilt that was starting to rise in your chest. He deserves it, you reminded yourself.  

“You know I always tried to be there for you,” his tone softened, his own irritation momentarily melting away as he began to recite the same spiel he had given so many times before, “but it’s complicated, people need-” 

“People need Spider-Man.” You cut him off, finishing the sentence for him. “And I get that.” You really did. People relied on Spider-Man, trusted in him that he would be there when they really needed a hero. “But I needed my boyfriend, Pete. And he was never there.” 

Things had been complicated since the two of you split, especially since neither of you had been willing or even able to cut the other out of their life. You were Peter’s biggest supporter, and Spider-Man’s, but you had grown tired of the constant suffering that came with being close to him. 

As much as you loved Peter, you couldn’t help but crave normalcy. Someone that could be there for you and make you a priority, something that Peter wouldn’t ever be able to offer. 

There was a beat of silence, the weight of your words still lingering in the air between the both of you, before he finally broke it. 

“He can’t make you happy.” It was a weak argument, and Peter knew that, but it was the only one he had left. 

“Honestly Pete?” You sighed, shaking your head at him. “You set the bar low. Extremely low. At this point I think I’d be happy just to have a partner that won’t crawl through my window in the middle of the night and bleed out on my carpet.” 

Pete rolled his eyes. “Okay, that literally only happened one time!” 

“Pretty sure one time is more than enough.” 

“Well there were plenty of other times where you didn’t seem to mind having me crawl through your window.” He shot you a smug grin, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ya know, for someone who seems so pissed that their boyfriend was Spider-Man, you sure loved fucking me in the suit-” 

Your eyes widened, your head jerking around to make sure that no one was around to hear his words. Peter didn’t seem to care either way, only smirking when he saw the blush that was starting to creep up your neck. 

“I’m not gonna lie,” he continued, once again pushing and pushing, just trying to see how far you’d let him go, “I always thought it was kinda hot. You’ve always been pretty desperate for me, but god, the way you’d act when I wore the suit?” He paused, looking you over as he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. You hated how the simple action made your breath catch in your throat. “It was pathetic–how you were such a slut for Spid-” 

You roughly grabbed hold of his wrist, snapping at him to shut up in a hushed tone. He let you pull him towards the empty conference room to your left, that stupid proud grin still on his stupid face. 

“What are you trying to do? People can hear you, Pete! Do you want people to find out who you are?” Your attitude was much different than Peter’s, clearly not sharing in his apparent amusement as you tried to quietly pull the door shut. 

A part of you felt like you were getting emotional whiplash from this conversation, somehow jumping back and forth between anger, pity, and guilt while simultaneously trying to pretend like his words didn’t have an effect on you. But Peter knew you, he knew everything about you–and he was using that knowledge to his advantage. 

“You gonna try and get Harry to wear it?” You weren’t surprised that he once again ignored you, only caring to entertain the conversation you wanted out of. 

“What are you even talking about?” 

“The suit.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, so cocky and arrogant. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to pretend that you didn’t love when he acted like this. “I mean, he’s got enough money to find a replica somewhere, right?” 

You bit down on your bottom lip, your nerves building as you watched him take a step closer. “Shut up.” 

“I’m sure you’d love it, wouldn’t you?” Another step towards you, caging you against the closed door. You could feel his breath against your cheek, though you still refused to look at him. “Maybe you could convince him to wear the mask, yeah? Pretend like it’s still me fucking you.” 

Copper filled your mouth as you bit down on the inside of your cheek, fighting against the familiar warmth building in your stomach. He wanted to get you riled up, that much was obvious, and he knew exactly how to do it. Fuck you, Peter Parker, you had meant to say the words out loud, but they died in the back of your throat as you struggled to find your voice. 

Peter’s nimble fingers lifted to your face, forcing your chin up so you had no choice but to look directly at him. “Even if he wasn’t wearing the mask,” he cooed, the gentle tone not matching up with the dark gleam in his eyes, “we both know you’d still be thinking about me, right?” 

A shaky inhale on your part, desperately trying to maintain a cold stare. You couldn’t let yourself melt for him, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had so much control over you. “You’re intolerable.” 

“You’re not denying it.” He didn’t loosen his hold on your chin, not giving you a chance to break away as his other hand began to trail along your waist, fingers sneaking beneath the hem of your shirt to touch bare skin. “That when you’re with him, you pretend I’m the one touching you,” 

He tilted your head further, leaning just close enough that you could practically feel his lips graze against yours. “Pretending I’m the one kissing you.” 

The hand on your waist suddenly dropped to your hip, his thumb digging roughly into the flesh just hard enough that you were certain it would leave a mark. You gritted your teeth, trying to hold back the gasp that threatened to break free in response to his actions. Peter knew that you were holding back, fighting against your own instincts, and he planned on breaking you.

“Do you wish it was me?” Just barely a whisper, his lips now ghosting against your jawline as he rephrased the question, harsher this time, “Do you pretend that I’m the one inside you?” he shifted his hips as he spoke, pressing them against yours and letting you feel the very prominent bulge in his jeans. You didn’t have time to stop the high-pitched squeak that it had elicited, your face burning red as you accidentally gave him exactly what he wanted. 

“No. I don’t.” The words came out weak, as well as a little shaky, your eyes screwing shut to try and avoid looking at him. 

You weren’t sure how you felt anymore, the emotional motion sickness reaching an all-time high as you grappled with your feelings; just angry enough to scream at him, just horny enough to scream for him. 

Your pitiful attempt to deny him did nothing as he still worked his way down to your neck, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin, grinning against you when he felt you jump at the sensation. “I don’t believe you.” 

His fingers were now toying with your waistband, tugging against the material, begging for any sort of indication that you were okay with it. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to turn him down even if you wanted to, and thankfully you weren’t gonna have to. 

A loud buzz against the door caused both of you to jerk away from each other, Peter stumbling back before you realized that it was your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You didn’t hesitate to reach for it, desperate for a distraction. 

Harry. 

Guilt washed over you as you saw his name appear on the screen, followed by a text telling you that he had finished up work early so he could take you out for dinner. It was a simple gesture, one that some wouldn’t think twice about, but the thought made your chest tighten. 

He was making time for you. 

Peter seemed to know who it was that texted you, able to put the pieces together on his own. That cocky mask fell as he watched you, listened to the way your heart skipped a beat when you thought of Harry. 

“Pete,” He recognized that tone, the same one you had used the night you called it quits, “I love you. You know that, but-” there was always a but, “I just–I can’t do this again. I need to pick what’s best for me.” 

“And Harry is what’s best for you?” It hadn’t been meant as a slight, but rather a genuine question. One he knew he wouldn’t like the answer to. 

“Maybe not.” You hesitated for a moment, dreading what you had to say next, “But I know that it’s not you. It can’t be you. Not again.”  

The words hurt to say as much as they did to hear. Neither of you wanted this, but as much as Peter hated to admit it, he knew that there was no other way. Not right now, at least. Not while the world still needed Spider-Man. 

“Okay.” Peter’s voice cracked, doing his best to force a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, not in the way it used to. “So where does that leave us?” 

You tried to return the smile. “Friends?” 

“Does that mean I have to see you with Harry?” 

“Probably, yeah.” 

“Fine.” He feigned a look of disgust, earning a small laugh from you. “But I’m not gonna like him.” 

“He’s your best friend, Pete.” You snorted at his statement, assuming that it had to at least partially be a joke. 

“And you’re the love of my life.” Peter shrugged and tried to mask the pain that accompanied his words, while you tried to mask the sound of your heart breaking, “So I guess things change, huh?”

If you liked this, then please feel free to check out my No Way Home series, Infinitely You! :)

[chimneyz]

"You don't find it, you make it"

Buck has lived with those words for years now, those words lived in the back of his mind for some time, honestly he nearly forgot about those words. But recently those words have resurfaced in his mind coming to the forefront. Buck stopped looking, knowing that it would never just stumble upon him, he had to make it. And he wanted to make it with Tommy.

Buck was never great at gifts for his partners, (family and friends were easy, partners on the other hand...) but Buck knew exactly what he was going to give to Tommy this Christmas.

It was June, Buck started to do his very delayed spring cleaning around his loft. (Who could blame him for doing it so late, his life has been a whirlwind and it just started to slow down) Luckily for him he actually had some help this year with it, Eddie and Maddie have refused to do so ever since he moved into the place. It's not like Buck needs the help, he's a grown adult, but it's nice to have the company. This year he had Tommy to help.

"Hey," Tommy smiled with a small peck of the lips while walking into Buck's apartment, "Eddie warned me to stay as far away as possible while you had a clipboard in your hands... should I be concerned?"

"What?" Buck scoffed, he's gonna have to have a word with Eddie when this was all over, "I am just proficient, there is nothing wrong with having an organized list!"

Buck grabbed Tommy by the hands leading him to the kitchen, "We are going to start at opposite ends and meet in the middle, I need you to first start with reorganizing the fridge. Here I made a crude chart of what it's supposed to look like." Buck shoved a clipboard into Tommy's hand-labeled 'kitchen', "And don't do it like how you have your fridge, it's a complete disaster, follow the instructions."

"There is something wrong with how I organize my fridge?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Buck exasperated, "Who puts raw chicken in the same compartment as their vegetables!"

"Oh I see what they meant about 'Clipboard Buck'," Tommy chuckled, "Not gonna lie Evan it's kind of hot."

"No, no flirting Mr. we have work that has to be done." Buck kissed Tommy on the cheek and headed up the stairs.

It's when Buck was cleaning up his closet when he found the scrapbook, he never knew why exactly he saved it, but there it is resting in the corner of the closet. Those fateful words now ringing in his mind over and over. Then it clicked, the light bulb over his head sprang to life. A scrapbook! It was perfect.

For the next few months, Buck would bring a camera with him wherever the two of them went, hiking, to the beach, a picnic, dinner dates, everywhere.

"Why do you keep bringing that camera with you? What exactly are you planning Evan?" Tommy asked one night.

"You'll see, you just have to be patient," Buck smirked.

He even took pictures on their casual days off, Tommy asleep in bed, Tommy cuddling with Buck on the couch, Tommy in the kitchen making morning coffee after a night of intimacy.

After a while, Buck took more pictures than he could count. By the beginning of autumn, Buck finally got the supplies for Tommy's Christmas present, he started putting it together piece by piece. It was a week and a half later Buck had the entire thing ready leaving space to add on more with a small note inside that read:

A while ago someone said you cannot find it, you have to make it, here it to our future and making us possible.

It was Christmas Eve when Buck walked into his loft alone. The 118 holiday party at Bobby and Athena’s new home filled him up with joy and laughter. He nearly forgot that he was supposed to be with someone else. He was looking forward to a day at Maddie and Chimney's home where he would spend even more time with his family. Another day to forget. But all of that rushed back to him as soon as he stepped foot in his loft. All he could think of was Tommy, his smile, his warmth, his laughter that he ached for. Tears started to sting his eyes as the door clicked behind him. He wondered if Tommy was thinking about him.

Buck rushed up the stairs, grabbed the wrapped scrapbook, and headed back downstairs. He grabbed the nearest bottle of liquor a small trash can and a few matches. Buck shivered in the oddly cool air on his balcony throwing the gift into the small metal can pouring the liquor over it. The small match ignited in Buck's hand after striking it across the side of the matchbox. He took a minute to look at the movement of the small flame, then dropped it into the small can.

Flames ate away at the glittery wrapping paper revealing the crinkly smile Buck yearned for underneath. The edges of the handmade book shrink to ash. Quickly, Buck grabbed the scrapbook unable to get go of it, his hands burned from the hot flames but he didn't care, to lose this would hurt even more. Buck dropped it on the ground stomping out the flames, in a pitiful tilt Buck gazed down at the book, gently picking it up and opening it. He went through the pages, the memories, tears started to stream down his face. Buck's body collapsed onto one of the outdoor chairs, flipping through the pages.

"I guess even making it doesn't work after all," Buck muttered choking on his tears.

[bubblergoespop]

new porter audio rambles <3 (i don't think any of this makes sense it's 6/7am)

okay so, to begin and get this out of the way, i believe neither side of this argument is the right side. and neither side is entirely wrong. the common obsession with one person needing to be entirely right and the other entirely wrong irks me so much.

porter is clearly not innocent here. he speaks to treasure in such a condescending way despite the fact that their main goal is just to HELP. they care for him and, though they're going about it in the wrong way, they're truly trying to help him work through his problems in a healthy way. and the way porter shuts treasure down isn't just mean, it could be damaging. for all we know, porter could create a repeat of early freelancer in treasure with his "your problems aren't as big as mine" mindset that he holds throughout this argument. i can imagine how torturous it is to be in treasure's shoes when all they want to do is help. every attempt they make to help porter in the long term is shut down and i know how draining that can be. i can't stop thinking back to porter's sleep aid audio where the same topic was covered but on a much calmer level. how many times has treasure tried to help porter and how many times has he refused to let them?

that said, treasure is also not free of the blame in this. porter has been repeatedly setting a clear boundary with treasure on topics to do with his house's drama and yet they continue to cross this line and try to get him to talk about it. they start taking offense when he says no and begin lashing out at him, even going so far as to call porter a coward. now, i know it was a heated moment and they didn't originally say it with their full chest but that's so wrong of treasure to say when porter was just establishing that he wasn't ready to talk about his feelings on an apparently life threatening matter. in my opinion, porter had every right to snap back at that. not to mention the hypocritical nature of treasure's side of the argument. saying porter's running from his problems, as if that isn't exactly what treasure did back during the audio in which the pair met.

porter tells treasure "i don't owe you more of me" and that's so interesting to me. because he's right. if he doesn't want to share more, that's his prerogative. and treasure shouldn't be pushing too hard on that when it's clearly upsetting for porter. however, just two audios ago, both porter and treasure agreed that they wanted to expand on their relationship and get to know each other better. i think that's one of the reasons why treasure continues to press so hard in this audio (plus a hc of them being the therapy friend but who doesn't hc that at this point?). treasure tries so hard to get porter to talk because they're under the impression that that's the direction porter wanted their relationship to go. to treasure, porter made it clear that he'd like for their relationship to go further and yet he seems to be making no effort in actually letting down his walls for them. they try and bridge the gap, and porter snaps. god forbid someone wants to help their partner feel better.

oh and the fact that this was the same night as porter's talk with sam is obviously not coincidental. that talk with sam already had emotions bubbling close to the surface in porter and having this discussion with treasure resurface again during that short time window is just another factor that caused this to turn into such a big thing. porter himself was aware of this and even tried to prevent it by telling treasure he wouldn't be good company for the night. this was one of the few times porter tried NOT to cause a fight and it led to one anyway - "every association i have ever cultivated i have turned into ash" :(((

this argument not being resolved is killing me already i don't know if i'll make it to the next treasure and porter audio, i really don't. erik clearly wants me to WITHER AWAYYYYYY AAAARGHHHH!!! whether this is next followed up with more angst or an immediate resolution, i don't care, i just need more asap.

i do wonder if this will be the end of porter's spiral or if he'll continue clashing with his other associations. he's clashed with sam, now treasure. who's next? vincent again? it's possible, considering he's been trying to contact porter. maybe it'll be even william himself next? porter's been expressing doubt when it comes to his servitude of his king - "the person i've used as my compass in this second life has always held the needle pointed firmly back into his own pocket and i've allowed my own fear and desire for any kind of meaning to blind me to even imagining any other alternative."

repeatedly, porter seems to be dramatizing the current situation. from what we know for a fact so far, only three vampires are leaving the solaire house and despite one of them being the prince, the house should still be strong. they've still got their king, his first-born progeny and his right hand man, surely the house would still survive, albeit weakened? regardless, porter says he needs to "save a few dozen lives, if not multiple houses," as well as "i don't need to talk about it, i need to solve it. before people end up dead," and this could either just be porter being dramatic, as he tends to be, or he could be being genuine and there's more to this situation than we know so far.

anyways, hearing a speaker have a talk with his listener and speak with such vitriol in his voice? oh how i've needed this drama and of course it's from these two silly billies.

[hmshermitcraft]

After Limited Life Grian passed on the message that the games were over, The Watchers were bored of them and their suffering, and wanted a new meal.

Now the players were free, but what is freedom when you’ve been living in a cycle of violence for years? What’s freedom when you’ve spent so long murdering those you once called friends, gaining and losing pets, experiencing death over and over again.

Cleo isn’t sure, but she tries to remember what she did before. They used to make statues, beautiful statues and sculptures of a variety of things, sometimes it was a gift for a friend, other times it was something they had been commissioned to make. So she starts that up again, crafting their feelings into art and creations, trying to process the trauma.

When Martyn had rocked up on her door in the middle of the night, months after Grian had set them all free, she’d been in the middle of a statue. They left their basement and opened the door, surprise covering her face as she saw Martyn. He looked worse for wear than she remembered, his phantom wings more torn than usual and his hair a mess, but most noticeably was the emptiness in his eyes.

Martyn took a step forward before collapsing against them, and her arms instinctively wrapped around him, holding him close to her. He let out a whimper and buried his face into their chest, tears streaming down his face.

“Hey, hey,” Cleo spoke softly to him, wrapping her arms around him tighter. “It’s okay,” she hummed, “what’s wrong?” Martyn said nothing, only crying harder.

Cleo pulled him inside, setting him on the couch next to them, his head on her lap. Martyn was still crying, but after a few minutes he calmed down enough to speak. “I can’t find Ren, anywhere. I thought since we were free he’d be back but I can’t find him anywhere. I’ve gone across the entire country, I’ve spoken to authorise, I’ve even asked Grian to ask the Watchers for help. But they refused, and now I have no hope.”

Martyn sobbed through the words, but Cleo understood, running their hands through his hair. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She hushed him, playing with his hair as they spoke. “Can you walk? I have something to show you.”

To Cleos surprise, Martyn nodded and sat up. She smiled at him, and grabbed his hand before leading him towards the basement. He trailed a little behind, but she kept the pace slow so he could keep up despite the clear stress and anxiety.

Once the two descended the stairs, Cleo’s current work came into view. It was a collection of statues, hearts all lined up in a row. Each heart had a line down the middle, each heart showing a double life pairing. Theirs was the one currently being worked on, and while her side was covered in stitches, Martyn’s had a phantom wing attached to his.

Martyn’s eyes widened at the sight, letting go of Cleo’s hand as he approached the heart statue. “It’s beautiful…” he said in surprise, and Cleo snorted at his tone.

“You don’t need to sound so shocked,” she said with an eyebrow raise.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just, I thought you hated Double Life.”

“I hated the betrayal,” Cleo corrected him. “I hated the feeling of loneliness, I hated the fact I couldn’t feel like I could trust you. But you made it up to me in Limited Life, and even Pearl and Scott managed to reconnect at the end. When I was first freed, I went to the old school I taught at and I realised it wasn’t the same anymore, that I wasn’t the same anymore. The life games were predictable, we always knew how it would end. There was comfort in it, in a strange way. So when I was trying to figure out how to move on, I first wanted to make a tribute to my favourite season.”

Martyn turned his gaze to her, tears beginning to stream down his face again. “Cleo…” he trailed off, unable to speak.

“We’ll find Ren,” Cleo promised, “wherever he is. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but we’ll find him. We can find everyone, I’m not sure we can heal alone.” They paused for a moment, before smiling. “I’m glad you came to me Martyn.”

Cleo can't offer a magic solution. But then, they both know Martyn didn't expect that of her. There is no magic wand that can be waved, but there is understanding and a burden shared.

There is also rest. Forced on Martyn, of course, because he's a stubborn prick and would keep working if they didn't drag him to bed themself.

Cleo won't go back on their word. They'll find Ren. And they'll find the others. And they'll heal. Just like Martyn, now, sleeping soundly for the first time since the games began.

[freedomfireflies]

It’s been a while since we checked in on Mr & Mrs Hey soul sister and their baby girl.

🥹🥹🥹 you're so right!!! THIS IS SUPER QUICK BUT THIS IS HOW THEY ARE!!! 😭💞

“Oh? Where’d she go? Where’d Layla go? Aaa! There she is!”

Layla laughs – a rather wet laugh – as her daddy disappears behind his hands only to pop back out with glee.

You smile from your spot on the sofa, watching your two favorite people in the entire world make each other giggle.

“I can’t believe she’s getting so big,” he muses, grinning wildly when she takes hold of his finger and refuses to let go.

“I know,” you agree, a melancholy ripple in your chest. “She’s already turning into a Mr. Hey Soul Sister 2.0.”

He smirks, glancing over her face. “Damn right she is. I knew she’d be a Daddy’s girl.”

“Well, she’s not the first,” you retort teasingly, to which he chuckles.

“Is that right?”

“Mhm.”

“Aw, now you’re gonna make me feel bad. Have I been neglecting my best girl?”

Your eyes roll but you can't help feeling slightly enamored. “Ha, ha. Very funny. All right, can you please take your daughter to bed now? I let her stay up an extra five minutes, but she’s gotta go down.”

Harry begins to pout, instantly pulling her from her mat to clutch her against his chest protectively. “Five more minutes.”

Laughing, you say, “Harry, come on—”

“Please,” he nearly whines, pressing his cheek to her forehead. “We’ll both be so good. Won’t make a peep and then we’ll go down.”

Your glare is playful. “You said that five minutes ago.”

“…yeah, well, now I mean it.”

“Harry!”

“What?”

Your head shakes. “Come on, we both know how grumpy she gets if she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

Feigning a wounded gasp, he holds her closer. “You take that back. She is a perfect angel, and she would never throw a hissy fit or chuck things at my head.”

“Be that as it may," you retort, although you can't help giggling at the memory, "she’s sleepy, and she needs to go down, all right? I know it hurts, but you can play with her tomorrow.”

Harry glances over to see Layla mid-yawn, and he smiles gleefully at the way her one bottom tooth shimmers from behind her lip. “All right, fine. What Mommy wants, Mommy gets.”

You smirk again at the nickname before he’s taking the small child toward her bedroom, disappearing into the darkness to tuck her into her crib.

And it's then that it hits you. This moment, this relationship. How happy you are to be in your home, with your husband, and your precious child. How a night of drunken mistakes has led you into the best chapter of your entire life.

How grateful you are to him for everything he's given you.

When Harry returns to the living room, this is how he finds you. With tears in your eyes that are mercilessly beginning to slip down your cheeks.

Instantly his expression drops, and he rushes forward, hand pressing to your jaw lovingly. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Sniffling, you press yourself into his palm. “I just…I love you. So much. And I love her. She’s so beautiful. And so are you. And I just...I feel so lucky. I'm so happy, H—”

He takes a seat beside you and quickly pulls you into his embrace, burying your face in his chest as he whispers, “I know. I know, baby. Me, too. M���so goddamn lucky to have you two in my life.”

You fist his shirt in the same way Layla does. “I love you, Har. So much.”

He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “I love you, darling. More than anything in the world.”

You smile softly, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you indulge in his touch. And it's perfect, this moment.

“...even though you gave our daughter shit taste in music,” he adds, and you laugh as you lightly swat at him, now feeling much better.

“She has excellent taste," you argue. "She knows the difference between a good song and whatever the hell the music you listen to is.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is.”

“Sure, okay,” he snorts before taking a beat. “At least we know she likes Fleetwood Mac. Otherwise, that could have been a disaster.”

“Oh, we would have had to disown her.”

"Absolutely."

You both smile at the thought before he gently tilts your head back to meet your eye.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Always.”

“…I’m starting to think Gimme, Gimme, Gimme is better than Dancing Queen.”

Gasping, you sit up. “Oh, yes. I knew it, I fucking knew it. See? Do you see?”

Harry laughs. "I already regret this—”

“You regret having good taste? Well, I guess that checks out.” You place yourself on his lap, knees on either side of his hips while he holds you steady. “You have made some questionable choices in your career.”

“Oh, have I?” His smile is smug as he looks up at you. 

“You have. And then you met me. You’re welcome.”

He laughs, and it’s so beautifully full of life. “I guess I never thanked you properly.”

“No. No you did not.”

He leans forward, lips just barely ghosting across yours until your breath hitches. “Then by all means...allow me to fix that.”

You can’t help the excitable tremor in your chest as you kiss your husband. The love of your life and the father of your beautiful baby girl. “Yeah?”

He smirks, arm looping around your back.

“Yeah.”

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister pt. 1

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny

[igglemouse]

Unfortunately, my idiot 'sister' Dre has decided that she will be visiting me more often to help me adjust to life on this silly planet of yours. She thinks it's her duty to be as annoying as possible and wants to apparently teach me how to ear. Yes, eating. You beings still do this. On Sixam, we absorb the nutrients we need or just take capsules but as I understand it is an entire thing for your kind. Seems like a waste of time and resources to me but according to Dre I must do it to help blend in with silly little creatures.

So over a bowl of what you call apple salad, messy, sticky, slimy, apple salad, we talk. I tell her about my first day and about the human I've met, the one with the light hair? "She was cautious," I say, staring at this bowl of junk before me. "She didn't appreciate the whole tongue flicking thing," I point out, remembering the moment of uncomfort between us.

"Zer, did you go through any of the body language experience I sent you?" She asks, her wrigglers wriggling a little violently. Annoyance. She's looking at me as if I'm the stupid one. Do you see what I mean with her? Why I loathe her so?

"N-no..." I admit, feeling some of the heat from her eyes. "That first one you sent me was like five hours long. I didn't have time for that!" I say jabbing at a slice of apple and refusing to bring it closer to my mouth.

She groans as if she is dealing with a child. "That was the shortest one, Zer. These creatures speak through body language, small things, things you must learn if you expect to blend in. You can't just go flicking your tongue out, it reminds them of one of their creatures here, snakes, I believe they call them, and other various reptiles...reptiles? Scaly, egg laying-"

"Ugh!" she's explaining them to me because I also did not study about the other animals on this planet. "Maybe it is the snakes who should be in charge!"

"So, what did you do for your entire trip here?" Dre looks at me and she's clearly judging me. "Did you study anything?"

"I played the video games you sent me," I reply proudly. "As I understand it, they are the main delivery of knowledge for this species." I fold my arms, pride steaming through me, because it was clear to me that these 'games' are a vital part of your education system.

Dre's chuckling tells me I am wrong and that I perhaps have made another mistake. "I sent you those for your own amusement, Zer. There is nothing to be learned from those things. They're just there to waste time."

"Ugh! You are trying to sabotage me, aren't you Dre?" DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN WITH THIS ONE?! "You've always been jealous of my status in our birth group! Always been envious of my-"

"We have the same status-"

"And yet you are beneath me," I remind her, gaining the upper hand. She needs this, she needs constant reminders of her place among her siblings. I am the one destined for greatness, I am the one who has been gifted this world to mold and do with on my own.

"Any ways," she sighs as dramatically as possible. Do you understand now why I loathe this woman? She does this a lot, by the way, and it's always unwarranted. "This woman, Tammy? I doubt she is S.I.B."

"Oh, and please tell me why you think this, oh great Dre."

"Ah, you'd know...something is off about those types. They are human and yet..." her wrigglers twitch, fear? "It's hard to explain. There's a lot going on here on this planet and half of it I can't explain."

Dre's certainty that Tammy isn't S.I.B does little to make my day better because she seems pretty creeped out about the whole thing. As for Tammy, I was very nice to her, right? I decide not to dwell on it, I'm sure I'll meet her again and will win her over.

I spend the rest of my morning recycling because, frankly, someone on this planet has to. I think I've mentioned that there is plastic everywhere on this planet, everywhere. I get it, it's a versatile little resource and you can use it to make almost anything and everything but that doesn't mean you should. The sheer carelessness of your species confounds me but at least you'll have me to clean up your messes.

I remind myself that I'll need to keep up with your news if I'm going to take over this planet but I admit, your so called 'leaders' are absolutely insane. Democracy, a scam system ran by inferior beings such as yourselves, is a failure. How does anything et done with everyone going in ten different directions? Inefficient, chaotic, and just simply stupid. We Sixams have it right, one world, one leader. Simple, effective, orderly.

The rest of my day goes as you might expect, nothing remarkable, just a steady routine of doing, well, nothing. That is until my idiot assistant shows up. Again. She seems determined to haunt me and the mere sight of her around my garbage little home would get my wrigglers wriggling if only they were out to wriggle.

She thinks she's here to help, I'm sure, but all she does is point out the mistakes she thinks I'm making or smirking in my face as if she knows all the answers. One day, when this planet is mines, she'll understand her place. For now, I'll do my best to deal with her.

This time she's here to educate me on how you beings court one another. Apparently, she thinks this is information I need to know, I disagree. "So, you're telling me they do this physically?" This sounds messy.

"Yes, Zer," she looks exasperated again as if she's losing patience with me. "So you really have learned nothing on your way here?"

"Why should I?" I shoot back. "They are clearly a primitive life form."

"That may be but you have to know that things are different here. Like I've mentioned, they procreate physically still and quite enjoy it, it is pleasurable for them, it drives a lot of their social interaction-"

"Uh huh," I wave my hand dismissively, the less I know about this the better I think.

"You, Zer are quite attractive. So the men here might hit on you-"

"Hmmm, to what purpose?" I ask the question I should not have asked.

She sighs and then transmits me a message of what you beings do when you want to procreate. I am quite frankly disgusted. The male puts his what in your what and then?!?! No thanks! On Sixam, the male covers your eggs in his sperm, completely in private, and then you swallow them, like pills, although this is only the terrestrial option. Either way my head is shaking at the thought of what you humans do.

"That will absolutely not be happening when it comes to me and I am insulted that you'd show me such a thing! ESPECIALLY mentally!"

I do not waste much time kicking her out of the house, my house, shoving her through the door as if doing so would banish the mental images she's cursed me with. On Sixam, we are past such things!

"I am sorry Zer but I figure you need to know!" She insists, stumbling out of the house, trying to get back in my good graces of course. "The males here on this planet can be quite aggressive when wanting to-"

"Yes yes Dre, please do not bring this up again," I cut her off, the images of your kind pressed up together doing who knows what stuck in my mind. "Put on your disguise too you silly little thing!"

I spend the rest of the day doing nothing but taking in the world around me, my world. It is a strange and chaotic planet but I must admit, there is beauty here. It is hidden beneath layers of smog, but beauty nonetheless. The colors, the landscapes, the resilient of life on this planet is inspiring in a primitive way. I'll do what I can to save this dying world but I am no hero, of course, because I intend to polish it and present it as a rare gem before the great Sixam empire. After all, what's the point of conquering a planet if its not worth ruling?

Zer Avoi ~ Episode 1.3

[projectjasper]

i started penning a post about how i always find it narratively unsatisfying when an arc ends with a conclusion the following arc breaks, regardless of how realistic the repetition of the same mistake might be, which is still true, but i actually want to talk about something else right now.

i feel like, at least at this stage, jack is in a position that is both generally unrealistic and untrue to the specific events of the series. 'jack and joker' has a clear focus on poverty and money and class issues, but it seems to treat jack in a very special way. he somehow manages to stand on the moral high ground above other characters. specifically, other poor characters. which is, first of all, a little ridiculous, since he was indeed a debt collector and, in fact, almost became the boss's son. and, second of all, is generally Not Great, because it does idolise the idea that if you "just try hard enough", you won't "allow" yourself to be backed into a corner and therefore won't have to do bad things.

now, don't get me wrong, i am not saying that our characters who have made mistakes are completely blameless. tattoo did shitty things (and hoy followed suit), safe did shitty things, hope frankly admitted to enjoying doing shitty things. however, if we zoom out a little, we will see that all these characters are in a situation that is inherently unfair to them. we have all of these poor people in immense amounts of debt and then we have this disgusting rich motherfucker whose entire wealth is literally based on making their lives as miserable and unfair as they are. and i think that, in this particular case, the series would have actually benefited from a dichotomy. don't get me wrong, i'm usually absolutely brimming with nuance and also asking "what lies outside of it?" but this shall be my exception. (though you could say that joke already brings some nuance to it - he is initially from a well-off family and he actively makes choices to the benefit of poor people, despite it resulting in him being ostracised from said family and its riches).

jack walks the line of being poor and managing not to do anything "too bad" like he is a fucking circus performer on a wire. and, don't get me wrong, he is genuinely a selfless character. he makes choices that a lot of other characters in the same circumstances wouldn't make. he remains in debt and continues working for the boss because he keeps trying to help people and pay off their debts first - that is admirable. however, he himself was already set up for more success than others. sure, being forced to become a debt collector isn't a walk in the park, but most other debtors didn't even have that choice. jack has to work for the boss in order to stay afloat - that is an undeniably hard task. the other people the boss collects debts from, however, have to come up with a lot of money out of thin air - that is not simply a hard task, that is an impossible one that is designed to trap them in the cycle of doing this impossible task forever. that being said, ultimately, jack is still poor. his own hamster wheel should be somewhere around the corner, that's always the case. this idea is where i wish they would have taken jack's arc.

from the moment when he refused to marry rose, there was no escape for him. finally, much like our other poor characters, he found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. (and i think that it's very thematically appropriate for jack's particular "i can't do this anymore, i deserve to live a full life" sentiment to be connected to love, since he is, after all, a lead of a romance drama). he made the decision to say "no" and from that point on, he was completely and utterly fucked. because, realistically, that conversation that he had with the boss after refusing rose was insane. i don't know what he would have done to jack exactly, if that was a genuine conversation and there was no exchange of jack's freedom for the ring, but it would not have been anything good.

so i wish jack had to make the actual tough call there, instead of having joke save him all on his own (and later take the fall for it). and if it was, at least in some capacity, jack's decision to steal that ring, he would finally be placed in a situation where every other poor character already inevitably found themselves in. because the entire system is rigged against all of them and they are eventually always forced to do things that they should have never even had to consider in the first place. but they deserve better than living a life set up for them by evil rich people who literally live off of their suffering and they are allowed - no, at some point they simply have no choice but to - fight for a better life.

this, in my opinion, would have been a much more powerful message and - not to circle back to my personal preferences - would have also not left us with joke making the very same mistake that we decided we should never make again at the end of the previous arc.

[robo-writing]

Sweet Longing

Summary: Clive’s hopelessly in love with you, but you’re already in love with someone else.

Warnings: Voyeurism, afab reader, 18+, MDNI

Part 2 here!

Clive was raised to be a gentleman, from the moment he was born he was instilled with values that make him the man he is today—strong, noble, honorable. That sense of justice—of right and wrong—is what makes him who he is, even through years of servitude that is the one trait he made sure to hold tightly to his breast; his entire moral code is based around chivalry, to do the right thing at all times—so why is it that he had eyes for you, a woman already taken by another?

Racked by inner turmoil, the constant shame he feels as you rise to your toes and kiss your beloved on the cheek is enough to burn a hole through his chest, even more so when he sees it’s his own damn leader at the receiving end.

(Cid smiles when you whisper into his ear, kisses you back in response. Clive has to actively remind himself that he’s in public, and that staring is less than appropriate.)

Your adoration sets his nerves on fire, makes his heart heavy with grief—this is a familiar sight to him, and a familiar pain. There is nothing honorable about the way he imagines your touch, nothing noble about his longing for you, nothing strong about the way he forces his head to turn away as if a second more of this display could kill him. The way you hold Cid close, whisper at his side words of devotion before leaving the hideaway…

“Be safe, my love. Come back to me in one piece.”

Founder, he wishes it was him you were speaking to, wishes it was his face your warm hands slid over, tracing over his features with soft fingers tickling at his skin. Would they move as delicately as you do, or would they be incessant, greedily latching onto him and refusing to let go?

His conscience speaks to him, rips his focus away as it tells him—

You will never find out, you hopeless fool.

(And he knows; between his endless yearning, he knows.)

You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even more than the stars he would pray to every night; Pretty lips that separated to reveal an even prettier smile, brighter than even Metia itself. A shining beacon in this otherwise bleak endeavor. 

You were a busybody—if it needed to be done, you were the woman for the job, no matter how difficult. If clothes needed to be repaired, you did it. If the scouts came back weary and hungry, you would run down to the kitchens and prepare them a meal.

Everyone in the Hideaway knew of your kindness, how you’d gladly give the clothes off your back to help others in need, but to witness it for the first time is a memory Clive would never forget.

The day he had told you his life story, of his home being destroyed and his brother killed, your eyes had displayed so much sympathy and care he hadn’t been shown in years since the disaster that took his freedom from him. You, sweet, caring you, had jumped into his arms swift as a coeurl, comforting him in your warmth, shocked at the sudden embrace.

“I couldn’t imagine what you’ve gone through, but it will be alright.” You said softly, rubbing his back soothingly. “You’re safe here.”

Close displays of affection were a luxury a bearer could never afford in captivity, he had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be embraced, to feel wanted.

A tear could have fallen from his eyes, and threatened to do so the longer you stayed in his arms. It had been so long since he had been hugged that he was almost scared to return the gesture, arms hovering at your sides before slowly accepting it in its entirety.

It’s no surprise that you had caught the eyes of one Cidolfus Telamon, who had set out to make you his long before he had met the former Rosarian shield. A jealous part of him dreams that it were him you had met before, that it was him your starlight eyes gazed at so lovingly. 

It was not fated to be, alas, and every time he bore witness to those same eyes gazing at Cid he felt his chest tighten—tortuous, like a sword to the chest. 

Stop that, the voice cries out to him. This is wrong. 

It didn’t help that Cid was eager to speak of your good graces either. In the middle of the night when everyone was asleep, the two men would talk, and inevitably your name would be mentioned once or twice; how adorable you looked this morning waking up, a pout on your face as the light hit your figure, or how Cid felt his heart clench when you redressed a healing wound, kissing the fresh bandages softly.

It hurt, to say the least, but he also welcomed it. In some sick, twisted fantasy he would conjure up images of you doing the same, only it was Clive’s injuries you were tending to, that it was him who saw your form tangled in the blankets. Guilty as he felt, he couldn’t stop himself.

It was only made worse by how kind you were. He almost wishes he could find fault in your actions, wishes that you’d realize his affection and reject him outright. Maybe then he could finally let his aching heart heal, but he knows if you kicked him away he’d crawl right back.

Your kindness was a double edged sword, for every interaction only fed his delusion, made his guilt worsen when his thoughts of you slowly evolved from the innocent to the sinful. You would smile at him, and instead of focusing on your face he could only focus on how soft your lips looked, on how they would feel against his, on how they might feel pressed against his—

“Clive? Are you listening?” You ask, waving a hand in front of him. He comes to his senses soon enough, so lost in thought that he almost forgot why he was accompanying you in the first place.

The vibrant sun embraces your skin wonderfully. In your hand is a basket full of plants, medicinal in nature as you stand confused at Clive’s sudden far away look, waiting for an answer.

“Hello? Is something wrong?” You repeat, slightly concerned now.

“I apologize, my lady,” he says, focusing on you again. “It won’t happen again.” 

His eyes wander over you, but can’t seem to meet your eyes. There’s a coyness to your tone when you reply, shoulder brushing against him. 

“Now what were you thinking about that’s got you so distracted?”

He only feels more embarrassed, turning his head with a slight blush. “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

You don’t look convinced, but you drop the subject either way, basket swaying in your arms as you walk ahead. 

“Alright then Clive, keep your secrets, just don’t let yourself get lost in the clouds when you’re supposed to be protecting me, yeah?”

You tease him as you bend down to pluck some more herbs for Tarja, an array of plants already brimming your nearly full basket. He raises his eye at you, to your basket that’s nearly bursting with flora and back. At the sight of his judgemental stare you reply— 

“There’s no such thing as too much medicine.”

He leaves you to your work, keeping watch for any signs of trouble, but also keeping a watchful eye of you. 

This is a problem, a very serious problem. You plague his thoughts, his dreams, it’s almost too much.

Maybe it was foolish, but he had to tell Cid.

To lust after another’s beloved, especially if it was the love of his friend is a betrayal of trust he wasn’t equipped to deal with, and holding this secret inside was only making it worse. It was with this realization he lay awake at night, leaving his bed to make his way to Cid’s bedchambers. Consequences be damned, he needed to say something.

When he arrived at the door however, not a sound left his mouth. When he raised his fist to knock it was stopped mid-air by what was a high pitched whine, from what sounded like you.

Surely he was imagining things, but another noise of pleasure left your lips and he felt all logical thought leave him.

You were inches away from him, making the most beautiful sounds his ears had ever been graced with. A melody of not-so-hushed whispers, of pleading followed by the unmistakably gruff voice of one Lord Commander—

“Lay back and take it, just like that—“

Immediately followed was your voice, moaning with reckless abandon.

Clive could only imagine what was going on, and imagine he did. Maybe you were on your back, legs spread enticingly for your lover to see. Perhaps you sat atop his body, hips rising and falling in sweet desperation. Were your pretty thighs shaking? Maybe your hands would hold him as he brought you to climax, singing his name over and over as your eyes closed in bliss.

“Clivecliveclive—!”

He’s not sure when he undid the front of his pants, when his hands met his frighteningly hard erection or when he stuffed his hand against his mouth to keep silent. Hunched over, head against the door to listen closer, memorize every pitch and tone of your delicious noises, how delightful you sound when getting brought to pleasure. His hand moves faster and faster on his cock with every moan, sweat dripping from his brow.

Founder, he was in the hallway, if anyone should see him now it would be plain as day what he was doing, but his hand had a mind of its own. Squeezing at his shaft, thumbing ahead the head, violently shuddering when he feels his self-control waning.

I need to stop, I need to stop—

He repeats in his head, the tip of his length so sensitive, more than he’s ever felt before. Everything is so hot, it hurts to breathe, he damn near pierces his flesh with how hard his teeth clamp down on his palm and even then a noise threatens to slip out.

I have to stop, founder above—

But then he hears you cry to the heavens, your voice hoarse from overuse, and his hand moves faster on his cock, knees buckling and sending him to the ground.

I can’t stop, don’t want to stop, fuck you sound so good, moremoremore—

He’s lost himself to his lust, thighs shaking as he slumps against the wall on his haunches. Knelt before the door, praying you don’t hear him, that you don’t hear the slick sounds of skin against skin.

His mind runs a mile a minute, nearly incoherent as his guilt and lust fight a dangerous battle. What if they found out? What if they hear him stroking himself into a fucking mess?

You’re muffled, but he can pick up your pleas through the wooden door. 

“More, please, ‘m so close—“ 

A creak, and then you cry out again. He decides in that moment that he doesn’t fucking care about the consequences, not when you sound like that.

Clive’s eyes clench shut as a shiver runs through him, you serve as fuel to fan the fire scorching his very being, flashes of you in various positions occupying his mind, a being of lust and nothing more. Ears ringing, heart battering in his chest, a tightness in his abdomen that grows ever taut at the sound of your voice growing higher and higher.

Cid’s voice interrupts the cacophony of your sounds, strained and deep. “There’s my girl, come on, let go for me—“

At that moment you let out the loudest sound he’s heard from you, a final crescendo to the music that leaves your lips. You’re a mess of slurred speech and half-uttered praises, Clive is only able to pick up a few words as his cock throbs with need.

“Yesyesyes, so good, I can’t—fuck—I can’t—“

“Yes you fucking can,” Cid interrupts, and the sound of skin meeting skin is more intense. “Be good and let me see you stain the sheets love.”

That does it for him. With a muffled cry he chokes out your name into his hand, the taste of iron coating his tongue as he lets go, the evidence of his shame soaking the front of his pants. 

He can’t move, shaky and unbalanced, but he forces himself to anyway, moving through the hallways back to his own chambers. He slides against the old oak door, fully spent and panting.

What the fuck did I just do?

He raises his hand, and just like he thought there was the smallest mark on his palm where his teeth broke his skin. His pants are uncomfortably wet with cum, he could barely muster the energy to lift his head, much less walk, and the worst of it all was that your voice still echoed in his mind and made his cock twitch against his leg.

Founder, help me.

[aesthetic-day-dream]

I was planning on keeping this away from this blog, seeing as I want to use it as an escape and a place of good, but l've been so anxious and scared and mad about the current state of the world that I just need to rant about it.

This may sound ignorant or delusional, I don't know anymore, but l'm really hoping we end up okay. I've been telling myself that there's still a lot of good in this world. Good things are happening every day, but they don't get as much traction as bad things do in the news.

News media has become more and more focused on only spreading the bad over the years and I just refuse to believe that the bad outweighs the good. Call me childish, I don't care.

I feel as though I can't pray for answers because I don't feel as though I'm being heard anymore. I hope I'm wrong. I want to grow up. I want to get a head full of gray hair. I want to experience life and everything that comes with it. I want to find love. I want to buy my own house. I want to decorate said house with all the stupid, small little things that make me happy. I want to decorate for Halloween and Christmas. I want to see my nieces grow up and start families of their own. Aging is a privilege and it is something that I will never take for granted. I have been blessed in my life and I am eternally grateful for that. I know that others have not been as fortunate as me and my heart is entirely with them.

It’s childish to say that I wish we could all get along, but I don’t care. I have never understood the hatred that some people have for others who are different than them. We are all human beings. There has been too much hatred, bloodshed, war, and everything awful you could think of in this world. I hate that everything we stand for, everything people strain their voices for in the hopes of change goes unheard of by people in power. The people who actually have the money and ability to help our planet - the very same people who just don’t care. The money hungry, greedy politicians who make everything a political war to turn us against each other.

I just want to go outside and enjoy the weather. I want those around me to be able to do the same. Scientists have been warning us about Climate change for YEARS!!! It pisses me off more than anything that we have had the time to fix things and yet here we are. Why did no one listen?! Why didn’t they fix things before it all spiraled out of control?? Maybe this is the ignorant, delusional, hopeful part of me, but I really do believe we can fix things before it’s too late. It’s just, the people who really need to change their ways for this planet to get better just don’t care. They like to put the pressure on us, the little people, when it’s them who are the problem.

You don’t have to read this. If you did, I hope I didn’t cause you any anxiety or discomfort, but I needed to get my own feelings out.

I believe that we’ll be okay, but we need to actually take the steps to get there. I hope people start to listen, if anything good can come out of Hurricane Milton, I hope it’s that it opens peoples eyes to the traumatic state the world is currently in.

If you’re in the path of Hurricane Milton, I hope that you’re okay. If you couldn’t evacuate or stayed behind to be with your pets or loved ones or you’re a healthcare worker who stayed to help, I wish the best for you. Please stay safe💚💚💚

I’m not sure if I will see any damage from Milton yet, I’m hoping we will be okay. I’ll update later if anyone cares to know. Be safe out there! 💚

[cakemoney]

mismag thoughts under the cut cause this got personal in a weird way lol

been chewing on k and evan's argument all day because i know that the entire point of how they played it is that both k and evan are right and wrong and they both have points but the situation is complicated and they're young and have difficulty expressing themselves et cetera, but there's stuff i need to unpack before i can come at it with (at least less of) my personal bias. because the way k said "you can only take care of somebody for so long" brought up something old and just. who asked you to take care of me? who asked you to form a one-sided relationship with someone whom you perceived as broken? do you think that i want this? do you think i want to have a friend look at me with pity, as though i'm lesser? don't you think i already know exactly what i am? don't you think i'm already doing exactly what i can? if it pains you to look at me, then look away! if being my friend is too much, then leave!

but obviously, that's not what k said. (also obviously not what the real life person said.) what k said (tried to say) was: it's hard to be around someone who doesn't believe you when you express love; by refusing to value yourself, you're also refusing to value the judgment and thought and feeling of people who value you, by dismissing yourself and your own needs as insignificant you're belittling people who care about those things, and being friends with or being in a relationship with someone who keeps pushing you back and throwing your care away is incredibly draining. this doesn't make it right for her to overlook his dismissal of a poorly healed arm as a concern, but it represents a pattern that k has difficulty navigating. she wants to care, and evan keeps downplaying that care, and that makes her want to prove her care all the more because evan is important to her!

at the same time, evan's not wrong for feeling betrayed by the way k treated/treats him. these kelmpisms that come from surviving the life that he lived, that are a part of who he was no matter how much he didn't like them, went from being sexy and cool to Problems that k thinks should be fixed, but his entire life of trauma and isolation doesn't disappear just because he's dating k or just because k is no longer horny about it. evan is evan, and the way he struggles with normalcy and self worth was always going to be a long process, and it's very invalidating to hear someone say that this got old. imagine how old it feels for evan, who's been living this way his entire life.

the argument becomes about the broken magic, because them breaking up and magic being broken probably happened pretty close in time, and it sounds like they've had this disagreement before, like it had become the surrogate for discussing their own relationship to each other. evan's saying, clumsily: i told you these things, and you didn't trust me or believe me, and i'm upset by that because these issues and their consequences are things i lived through and continue to live through. k's saying, but failing to say: i know that you're making very salient points and that you already have a methodology in mind that makes sense to you, but you're asking me to sit back and do nothing, and i can't accept that; i can't accept not helping, because i care about the people this affects. in some ways, both of them are just stubborn; they just actually have different points of view, and maybe this wouldn't be a fight if they hadn't also tangled it with their straining relationship. why don't you trust me to help? why don't you trust me to handle it? why don't you trust that i have something to contribute? why don't you trust that i am doing my best?

neither of them necessarily distrust the other; they just don't trust themselves enough to let go and let someone else take the wheel, because they both think they've already fucked something up, maybe beyond repair, maybe forever. when you already doubt yourself, any sign of disapproval from someone you like and care about and respect and admire so much can feel so fatal

[on-leatheredwings]

i've found your account only a few days ago but ever since then I've been STUCK here rereading your fanfics, especially ones with damian. i wasn't even a dc fan (heard about some stuf, watched some films and cartoons, but that's it) but now im reading comics since im Obsessed and need more batboys in my life (rip my productivity😔)

Anyway, after Sleepover i'm curious what will Bruce (and maybe even Thalia) think of batboys strange behaviour towards reader. He's smart, so he definitely notices it early on, but how he'll react....

I can see him being weirded out (like he was by Jason's anger issues, before his death), but he also can be an enabler, since Robin (literaly any of them) had a hard life, so if those relationships can help him why not pretend that everything is normal? you'll be safer in a Wayne's Manor anyway

All in all, thanks for a new hyperfixation 💞💞

P.s. About games:

1. Boyfriend to death 1&2 - since you're into yanderes you might want to check this game out. I prefer the second game, but the first is also fun. But beware the trigger warnings!!

2. Long live the Queen - more of a raising sim than dating sim but you still can romance some guys and girls.

,3. Hatoful Boyfriend - mostly a comedy, but there is a yandere.

4. The Royal Trap - it's been a long time since i played it, but it used to be one of my favorites so i'll just mention it.

5. Higurashi - once again not really a romance sim, but its an interesting horror mixed with a slice of life

;A; AWWWW THANK YOU IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY STUFF.... THAT MAKES ONE OF US GIJSDOFAFGHFOJDSD

and yes yes get into DC!!! (girl who hasnt even read a full run since like. injustice)

damn now you got me thinking and excited. incoming spiel

i agree entirely about bruce just knowing how Bad things can get, so to make things simpler, he's like "yes, your darling(s) can stay in the manor, boys. 🙄"

mmm yes..... when it comes to bruce noticing the batboys are yandere, i think it's always sinfully delightful to just have him be reluctantly okay with it. 😈 it's also easier narratively ngl but i also like the idea that the batfam is all just corrupted.

bruce's thoughts are that they (his sons) fight for vengeance and justice but this is where they could use some leeway.... we all need our vice... they fight so hard for gotham, they deserve a little treat (getting rid of your human rights)... it's very "Dad who wants his sons to have happiness even if its not healthy" of him. in fics where bruce is a yandere, well, he's the exact same way so he can't judge. although if that's the case, i like the idea of bruce just being like "yes what we do isn't right. let's not talk about it. just don't kill <3"

still wondering what i like more. a yan!bruce who's self aware what he's doing is wrong but he just refuses to think about it. or a yan!bruce that justifies it all because of his paranoia, Tower of Babel style (if you don't know, that's when it's revealed batman has plans to subdue/kill the justice league just in case they go rogue.)

for the batboys depends on their personality... for damian, he's so resolute in things that i prefer when he just believes 100% what he's doing is okay, if not actually righteous. ^_^

hmmm talia.... I'M STILL UNSURE HOW I PREFER THAT AS WELL... i think talia being a you-arent-good-enough-for-my-son mom is a little cliche but also. she kinda would say that. you'd have to prove your worth somehow but idk how tf darling would do that LOL. in the end, i think talia is just relieved/comforted that her son indeed feels desire and wants love and will continue the family legacy (regardless if youre afab/can biologically have children.)

no THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!! AND THANKS FOR RECS!!!! heheh yeah ive checked out btd and im not averse to the warnings its more like im not that most of into the designs ngl. fox guy seems cute? AND LMAO FUNNY BC IM ON A HIGURASHI REWATCH (never played it tho)