#this set would've been absolutely impossible without it

[5ummit]

"I can't think of a worse group of people trying to work together"

[hyewka]

i need jealous possessive subby gyu😭😭 like omg need him so toxic, needy, and clingy🙂‍↕️

warnings: a bit toxic, clingy and needy sub but whats new :P

irrationally jealous!beomgyu that cant even stand you going out with friends without blowing up your phone, trying to put a balm on his growing anxiety by asking whos there with you. then when you respond and he recognizes male names, he gets even more antsy. give it time before he texts you again, his fingers flying across the screen as he types out a message.

ohhh ok. are you having fun? :)

then again.

still really wish you were here with me insteadddd its so boring without you

he chews on his bottom lip, the seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. god, just respond, he thinks, fingers twitching as he waits. then he succumbs to sending another text.

come home soon okay? miss you :3

then another, and another…and another.

after sending a few more texts, minutes go by with no response, and so he flops down onto his bed, his thoughts spiraling as he stares at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that he’s just overreacting. but the more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. why aren’t you replying?

beomgyu isn't possessive, he isn't, really...right? so why can't he seem to get rid of the reckless idea that just popped up in his head?

instead, like a magnet he reaches for his phone again, this time switching to the camera. when he sets it to video mode, all thats on his mind is getting your attention. thats it, nothing more. just your attention.

you're out with your friends at a bar, it was meant to be a girls night but you guys bumped into old college friends so it turned into something way bigger than intended. you've been trying to enjoy yourself, not seem too absorbed in your phone but when you can feel the vibrations of your phone buzzing every three minutes in your back pocket, its practically impossible to ignore. you know who it is.

any other person would've shut their phone down or at the least put it on dnd, but here you were, locking yourself in a bathroom stall after excusing yourself, pulling out your phone only to be met with the most obvious strings of messages from one singular contact name: beomgyu.

the first one after you passively replied was innocent enough, but then you see skim past the next ones:

how long are you gonna be out?

is it loud there? can you even see this? I miss you, baby

the last one really sticks out:

are you ignoring me?

you frown, but before you could finish typing out a text, a video pops up from him. you pause. you hesitate for just a second before tapping play, and instantly, you realize exactly why the thumbnail was so blurry.

the video’s a little shaky at first but eventually it steadies enough for you to realize hes on your shared bed—his hair's all messed up, sticking out in random directions, and his lips are parted as he breathes heavily. you can barely make out the details because of how grainy the video is, but you can still hear him. your brows furrow deeper…this can’t be…what you think it is, right?

and like hes heard your thoughts, he lets out this quiet moan, the camera dipping a bit, like he almost forgot he was holding it, revealing exactly what you conjured up in your head; a clear view of his hand buried under the waistband of his shorts, half-hard— leaving absolutely no room for imagination.

“i've been thinking about you all night, baby. couldn't help it... had to touch myself, thinking about you..." he trails off. you can see his fingers moving under the fabric, slow and lazy, dragging it out like he’s savoring every fucking second.

when his hand clearly starts to move a little faster, his eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself in the feeling. "wish you were here, wish it was your hand instead. fuck, it's not enough..."

his lips part again, and you can hear the faintest whimper escape him, the sound making you bite the inside of your cheeks. and it’s so quiet, so breathy, that you bring the phone closer to your ear without thinking, embarrassingly desperate to hear more. it’s enough to make you press your thighs together, trying to ease the ache building there.

but you can't seem to tear your eyes away for long as he shifts slightly, his hips arching up a little more, his movements becoming more erratic. and when you hear him whisper your name—over and over, like he's pleading, like he's praying-your throat goes dry, and your hands start to tremble.

“look at me, baby, look how fucking hard you make me. this is all your fault,” you hear his panting get louder in the background, matching the pace hes palming at his cock.

then he lets out this cute, frustrated whine, almost a little whimper, when the camera slips again.

he messes with his phone a bit, like he's trying to figure out if you can see everything all while he keeps working himself, the slick sounds of him jerking off growing more erratic by the second.. then, you catch the way his shirt rides up and thats what does it for you.

if this is what he wanted to achieve then he did it because you really, really want to get home to him as fast as you can just to pull that shirt up the rest of the way and trace the lines of his stomach with your fingers, to feel that little pink gem that pierces his belly button against your palm.

you wet your lips nervously, shaking your leg, hunched over your phone— he was so effortlessly pretty. his muscles are just barely visible and the subtle lines of his abs tense then relaxing with each shaky breath he takes in.

"you just had to go out tonight, didn’t you?" his voice is suddenly low and husky, a sulky edge to it that makes you narrow your eyes. is that what this is about?

“left me here all alone, like i don’t even matter, like you don’t care how bad i need you.” he huffs, a frustrated little sound that’s almost drowned out by the rustling of the sheets as he squirms on the bed, trying—and failing—to keep the camera from shaking. “wish you were here, going fucking crazy without you—ngh-”

you hear a swallow, and its like hes trying to keep his moans in check—you chew harder on your bottom lip. a part of you is worried that he genuinely believes that he doesnt matter to you, but the other part of you, the hornier one, is completely consumed in the shitty, low quality video to even care.

“please, just come home to me, please… i need you so bad—m’yours, all y-yours..” you notice his words are starting to become slurred, and your thighs rub together almost unconsciously in realization, trying to relieve some of the pressure building up inside you. you know hes playing on you weakness, and hes got you where he wants you.

god, i’m so fucked, you think, but you can’t stop.

firstly, it wasn’t fair, what he was asking of you—you’ve been using up all your time with him and the second you do something for you, he acts up? and you’re also a little frustrated at the fact that hes not letting you see his pretty dick in full—hes very clearly pushing you to the edge, holding back, waiting for something—for you. you think as if hes imagining your voice telling him what to do, instructing him to keep it at hold.

because how else is he not cumming already?

you know you should stop, should put the phone down, but you just can’t. you’re too hooked, too caught up in how fucking pretty he looked, how desperately he was begging for you. he knew exactly how to get to you.

“please, baby, please,” he whined, his voice getting high-pitched, his hips thrusting up into his fist. “need to cum so bad… fuck, i-"

in a panic, you click your phone shut, the screen going dark in an instant when you recognize the sound of the bathroom door creak open.

“hey, you okay in there?” the voice is familiar, and relief washes over you when you realize it’s one of your friends. at least it’s not a stranger.

“yeah!” you blurt out, probably a little too loud. you cringe at the sound of your own voice, trying to sound more casual. “i’m fine! just… just need a minute!”

you try to keep your breathing steady, praying she doesn’t push any further.

“okay, just checking!” she finally responds. you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

you listen carefully as her footsteps retreat, the door creaking open and closing behind her as she leaves. you quickly open your phone back up, your fingers still shaking as you pulled up your messages. you tell yourself you won’t watch the rest—you need to have some control, especially when your underwear is already embarrassingly wet.

what are you doing?

…is all you could muster up as a text.

you barely have to wait. the three little dots appear almost immediately.

miss you so much... just wanted your attention : (

before you can even think of a response, another message pops up— one that has your brain go blank again.

did it make you miss me?

note: dont know if this was exactly what you were looking for but ive been meaning to write a scene like this for soo long and i feel like toxic needy gyu works just perfect for this haha anywayyy send some more sub txt stuff i live for it

[veryberryjelly]

Could I request a 🍸? Prompt 80 with either Roy or Jamie from Ted lasso. Congrats on 1.5k!!

jamie tartt x reader

prompts ; ' will carry you if you're injured '

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

how you had managed to hurt yourself at a restaurant was absolutely beyond you.

the whole richmond team was packed into Ola's for dinner and jamie had brought you along. which you were more than excited to do because you had tasted sam's cooking before when you had been round for dinner and an actual restaurant would be next level.

but then one moment you had been standing from your table to go to the bathroom, and the next you had been falling into the arms of colin where he had been sat at the next table.

while jamie had been up to try and catch you when he saw you stumbling, he hadn't been able to get there quick enough and you were thankful the room was full of fit footballers with quick reflexes who could catch you.

but you were less concerned about the scene you had just made as opposed to the throbbing in your ankle.

" y' alright, babe ?" jamie questioned as he came to stand beside you, his face full of concern that warmed your heart slightly.

" yeah, 'm fine. thanks colin " if he hadn't caught you, you probably would've caused a bigger scene than you already had.

when you tried to stand on both feet on your own, you almost crumbled again and this time it was jamie's arms that wrapped around you to prevent you from falling to the floor.

he helped you sit yourself back in your chair and you could feel almost every pair of eyes in the restaurant on you, but the only set you could focus on was jamie's as he knelt down infront of you.

you knew it was impossible to hide anything from your boyfriend. he could read you like a book even if you tried to hide it. something that only made it worse.

his hands grazed your ankle as he pulled your shoe off, at which you couldn't help but wince.

the sight of it wasnt much better. you weren't sure how it had become so inflamed and red in less than a minute, but it had.

the sight even made jamie wince, and that was never a good sign.

" think y've sprained your ankle, baby. must've caught it on the table when you got up "

his fingertips were delicate against the skin of your ankle but that didn't stop the furrow of pain that showed up between your brows.

" think 've gotta get you home, sweetheart. get some ice on this "

he stood from the floor, keeping your shoe in his hand because he didnt want to see you pained as he tried to put it back on.

he offered his hands out to pull you up from the seat, noticing the way you only put one foot down on the ground.

he helped you hobble out of the restaurant, thanking sam profusely for even inviting you and apologising for having to leave.

the moment you were outside jamie stopped walking and turned to you.

" cars parked two streets down, love " he explained, eliciting a groan from you.

but that feeling of dread was short-lived as you felt jamie's arm around your back and the other behind your knees.

your arms looped around his neck out of pure instinct and before you knew it, jamie was carrying you bridal style towards the car.

" didnt want to embarrass ya infront of the boys " he answered the question you hadn't even asked yet.

you had no response. well, no verbal response. instead, you pressed a kiss onto his cheek and rested your head down against his shoulder, making a mental note to make him breakfast tomorrow morning.

if you could get out of bed without his help.

[temis-de-leon]

When another guy flirts with you

Characters: Demon Brothers x gn!MC (separately)

Main Masterlist

C/W: a guy flirted with MC while they were drunk, but literally that was it. It's just mentioned at the beginning. Non-established relationship, although there's clearly something between you. A bit suggestive.

.

Just when you thought calling him when you needed someone to pick you up at the afterparty had been a wise choice, he made you see you were wildly wrong.

You didn't need this. A hangover was already too much for you to bear on a Sunday morning and now you had to deal with the demon's inquiries? Sure, he'd been nice and reduced his teasing, seeing as you were drunk out of your mind and in pain the following day, but nothing seemed to stop him from asking every question imaginable.

Did you have fun? Did anything bad happen? Were you hiding something? Who was that boy you were complaining about when he got to the party to get you home?

It was that last question what was really testing your patience.

A stranger insisting on buying you a drink too many times to care? Tale as old as time. You never reciprocated anyway and your grievance had been brief; you hadn't even remembered the poor idiot until the demon mentioned it with a strained smile.

"Did he really think he had a chance with you...?" he said with a hint of mockery.

His tone hid obvious jealousy and you tried hard not to show your amusement, but it was impossible.

Faking an innocent expression, you crossed your arms over the table and placed your chin over your interlocked hands. His eyes were open wide as he stared back.

"He was quite handsome, actually. Looked just like you"

.

Lucifer: he's so pissed, eye twitching and smile twisting in a sadistic expression that promises a good time. He always makes sure you know you belong to him, but he wasn't aware he had to make it clear to the general public as well. The moron was attractive, you say? Just like him? Oh MC. There's no one like him.

Mammon: he's offended at first, but quickly gets distracted when he realizes you think he's "quite handsome". He will still follow you for the rest of the day, reminding you how superior he is to whoever was bothering you the night prior, but every once in a while interrupts himself to gaze at you with heated eyes.

Leviathan: he's screeching. You need to prepare him for this kind of thing, MC, you know that! You think he's handsome? But you thought another guy was handsome! Oh, but you called him, didn't you? You called him because you preferred him! He will make sure you won't regret your choices; just give him a few minutes to cool down and stop blushing behind his hand like a schoolgirl.

Satan: he may be frowning with all his might, but nothing will take that blush away from his face. Some of the things you say leave him speechless and this happens to be one of them. While angry about some guy pestering you for an opportunity that he won't ever get, Satan will spend the rest of the day taking care of you in the privacy of his room. You think he's handsome? Wanna know what he thinks of you?

Asmodeus: he's absolutely furious. No one will save you. You dare compare him to some random guy you found in a trashy club?? Partying without him is already a serious offence that he has mercifully decided to forgive, but setting his beauty and his perfection at the same level as some... drunk idiot's?? You're done. You will be hearing about this for days.

Beelzebub: he feels flattered and worried at equal levels. Being called handsome by you will forever make him blush and smile, but he is concerned about a stranger bothering you and not leaving you alone. He would've preferred if you called him sooner for that matter, although he doesn't berate you for it. As long as you're fine, he's happy.

Belphegor: he's so tired, MC. It was already a miracle that you managed to catch him awake and in a mood amicable enough to go get you in the middle of the night; do you really want to test his patience? Your words leave him silent and irritated and he will drag you to his room or the attic for a long nap session in retaliation. And when you're both done sleeping? Prepare to call him handsome again. And again. And again.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[tubbytarchia]

I think the reason the women of the life series get categorized as "the braincell" is because they are often better at surviving and being careful. Maybe you do have a point but they are also just less likely to die to stupidity than most other members.

For example in the impossible minecraft series all 3 of the women have far less deaths than the men. I think it's a pretty good visualisation, even if it's not from the life series itself. It's still the same people playing and making decisions.

(I wanna reiterate that I have nothing against just headcanoning siblings in a vacuum. For example I am partial to Nosy Neighbors headcanoned as siblings, because Pearl isn't usually put up on a "big sister" pedestal to take care of BigB, and I can absolutely see how their LimL dynamic could be interpreted as sibling-like)

Yes, they're absolutely competent, but why do they get the mother and big sister labelling because of that fact alone? Plenty of others, eg Scott and Grian, perform very well most times, but you don't see them being labelled dads. In fact, I have seen both of them be credited for other characters' success (which I disagree with but I digress) without any dad or big brother labelling. Eg in 3L Jimmy's and Scar's case, Scott and Grian respectively are often treated as the breadwinners, and I do wonder whether fandom's labelling would've been different if Jimmy and Scott weren't canonical husbands and Scarian wasn't as prominent of a ship

When it comes to the male characters, the dad label is applied to those who have been perceived as acting fatherly on the Life series or on HC, like Impulse. Whether or not you agree with that, what about the women makes them caretakers? Just because they're good at the game? Was Pearl taking care of the Mounders in a way that sets her apart from them? Is she a caretaker because she survived the longest? Is Lizzie the caretaker in WL because she's coupled with Jimmy and Scar who the fandom seems to believe need protection and are incompetent otherwise? Did that make her become a caretaker? Cleo I can understand somewhat on the surface level of them literally being a mom in LimL (same with Lizzie although I personally don't headcanon seablings outside of ESMP1)

Yes, the women perform better in general, so I can understand them being labelled the braincells to some degree, but again, it reads much more like trying to find less incriminating terms to put them into stereotypical motherly and sisterly caretaker roles, and I just don't see anything of the sort from the series to convey that such dynamics are present. When every other teamup expectation post I see labels only the women as competent and their teammates as being at their care, I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to take away from that. This stereotyping, especially when it takes prevalence over actual character, is very misogynistic, and, imo it's also misogynistic idolization applying such a stereotype because of competency when in many areas, Pearl for example, can't be described with the blanket terms of "sane" or "wise", let alone the "best" or "most competent", although she's certainly good at the game and very smart. I don't know if I'm alone in just not understanding what about any of the women outside of Cleo's caricature of a role in LimL convey motherly or sisterly characteristics, or in not perceiving them as the objective best players with the best mindsets etc (I don't see any player in that way)

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XIX. “(im)mortality”

read on AO3 🦇

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce struggles to convince he’s not bribing your silence, and you find yourself locked in the backseat of his car while Batman investigates a suspicious murder.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, gore, fear, arguing

words: 3.3k

a/n: while I do list ‘gore’, I want to let everyone know I will never post photos or visuals, I will only describe it as is canon to Batman-typical violence.

How could he convince you it wasn't a bribe?

You met him out back where he pulled up with the headlights cut. Not terrifying at all. The alley was dark and leftover rain was spilling down through gutters. The sun had already set, not making more than a few shades of difference to how Gotham looked during the day. I want to go back home. I hope I survive the drive. You stepped toward the passenger seat and grabbed the door handle, but stopped with your hand clasped around it. Your shoulders tensed, your stomach felt like it halted digestion, and your eyes darted around the area, every new crumb of environmental information nearly sending you back into a panic.

You looked afraid, no, absolutely terrified. He picked up on the stress you held in your body like it was his own. He rolled down the passenger window which made you startle like a cat, the sound of the pulled handle snapping back to position. Your face was getting harder to see by the second, and his mind went blank. He had no words to reach for, no expression, no cloak of anonymity. It was rare his mind turned completely off, impossible for him not to have every next move choreographed. It only served to make him look more unsure, and less safe.

"I'm getting an Uber." You forced down the lump in your throat and started for the side of the building. You heard a door slam and Bruce call after you.

"It's not a bribe."

You halted, tucking your chin over your shoulder. It stung to look at him but, thankfully, he was cloaked in shadow. In more usual circumstances that might have scared you even more, but you were close enough to the main street should someone need to hear your screams. That same peculiar sense of safety crept up and let you turn around. "Why not? I know about you."

He sighed. "It would've been more if it was a bribe."

The thought have you bribed anyone before? germinated, but curiosity wasn't getting the better of you. It was all too fresh how he'd looked at you the last time you'd been in that building, and you could still feel the small wash of air his scoff had made against your cheeks. You were shocked you hadn't fallen back into acute panic. "You wouldn't just throw money at someone you hate."

He didn't hate you; Bruce didn't think he could hate anyone besides the people who killed his parents... and Falcone. He hated Falcone, but that could have been one and the same. He answered as simply as he could through grit teeth. "My parents have similar history." That same feeling was encroaching as the last time you and him had been in the alley, when you'd first asked Batman for an interview. Regulate. Breathe. Regulate. Breathe.

"So it's not a bribe, just more philanthropy? A tax write off?" Your voice began to rise. He shoved out a half-baked thought. "You still got the money, didn't you?"

Fucking... Your fear did a hard right into exasperation. It was important he understood he couldn't just do that, that rich people couldn't waltz around doing whatever they pleased without reprimand. Knocking the People's Prince down a peg seemed like your life's mission. "But it's dehumanizing, it's so fucking invasive."

His response was swift like the punch of guilt to his gut. "And I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have."

"Uh huh."

His voice was firmer, louder. "I mean it. It won't happen again."

"Unless you think I'll tell someone."

He hated having his character misinterpreted; he'd journaled about this before, this nagging feeling of no one fully seeing him, no one understanding his intentions. Once again you nestled right into a crack. "I don't do bribes."

"You could've had a conversation with me."

"It won't happen again." He hesitated, just long enough to sign the contract in his head. "Promise."

"I don't trust you." Now his eyes met yours through the glint of a sporadic streetlight. "A normal person wouldn't even be able to do that."

He shut his eyes and thought about Alfred. He hated remembering this, oh, it made him sick. Bruce had come home one day from sixth grade and Alfred had been waiting at the front of the stairs, right near the entryway phone. He'd gestured for him to follow to the kitchen table, and once Bruce had sat down Alfred had told him he'd gotten a phone call.

"Your teacher says you're exclusionary." Bruce had sat there confused, remembering swinging alone on the swingset earlier that day. "What do you make of that, hmm?" Alfred had done this a few times before—tried to have a serious conversation with him, but it sat in an uncanny valley between butler and parent, and always made Bruce feel a bit squeamish; why couldn't his dad be his dad? As much as he hated his father being gone, he completely loathed anyone trying to take his place.

"I just played on the swings." Bruce kept his head down. It was easier that way, not looking people in the eye. It'd become a reflex since he'd done it that horrible night.

"Ms. Taylor says three kids came to her crying today saying you didn't want to play with them." His brow was furrowed. He let his face loosen a bit as he noted Bruce get smaller and smaller. Sometimes he was a bit overbearing trying to take on a guardian role, it was palpable in moments like these. Quite honestly he hadn't wanted to talk to Bruce about this, but felt like Thomas would have. He stuck out a hand to Bruce.

Bruce shrugged and ignored the hand. He counted the rings in the wood table to stave off tension's bite. "I told them I didn't want to play."

Alfred had sighed. Bruce was already in therapy, and he didn't know what else to do for the boy. Stressing the importance of social interaction as a means of mental health preservation seemed like the only straw he had left, so he took it. "Master Bruce." In an effort to help make the boy feel important, thinking it might pull him out of his dejection, Alfred spoke something that burned into Bruce's mind like a hot branding iron. "You're a Wayne! If you don't want to play with someone, that hits harder than just any kid in the play park."

"Bruce?" His hands were clenched tight at his sides, and his eyes were so excessively wrinkled he had to be squeezing them shut with all his might. His face was twisted into an excruciating wince. Was this anger? Was he about to fight you?

He was red-hot, his system alerting him to LEAVE. "See you next week."

What the hell? "Wait,"

Bruce reflexively whipped around, a sharp prickling traveling up his neck to his eye socket for which he massaged his temple with barely concealed earnest. The flickering streetlight salivated for a migraine. "You said you wanted an Uber."

The frustration that bled into his tone was not lost on you, so you matched it. "Why were you standing like that?"

"Do you need me to order one for you?" Water. Might have some in the backseat.

His tone had moved firmly out of cordiality, which sent a rod of indignation through you. "Jesus,"

He opened his eyes but winced as a flash of pain seared across the right side of his head. "That's not what I meant,"

"Everything is about money with you."

"I don't want it to be."

"It is."

"I don't need the reminder."

"Whether you ignore it or not, your entire life is shaped by money."

"You think I don't know that? I hate it." Nausea was tempting him now, the gravel shifting slightly under his shoe only multiplying the vertigo.

"You hating being rich doesn't make you less rich, Bruce."

"Can you stop calling me that?"

"Why?"

"Because my parents are the only ones that did."

The street fell silent. You stared at him. The last fifteen sentences had been said in the span of ten seconds, each barely hearing the other before seething a response. His chest rose and fell rapidly, nearing ten times in the past second. He blinked rapidly as he focused on the trunk of his car, his left hand out to steady him. Black spots sprinkled the corners of his vision.

You tried to bring some levity to the situation, because the combination of the tension in the air and not knowing whether or not he was about to fall and crack his head open made you nervous. "I swore I heard Alfred call you that once."

It was mildly effective; this distance between you and him was more comfortable now, but it left more space for panic to strike you again. When you spoke up, it was a squeak. "I'll get in the car. But don't hurt me." You started walking toward the passenger, but stopped when you noticed he was staring at you, exasperated. His head was pounding, taking all of his inhibition away with its roar. Bruce heaved a breath and tried to regain focus before speaking; it stung a lot more being feared as Bruce than being feared as Batman; again, once again, made him feel so much less human. "I paid the loans because," He took another breath. "I don't want anyone going through what I did." He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut as they became hot and prickly. "I found you on the commencement list." It spilled out. "I found your mother's name. I called the closest clinic to your listed hometown and put my card on file. I almost didn't..." He peered back at you again. "I know it was a breach. I promise to never look you up again." You were standing across the car from him, soaked in gutter water. He huffed out a breath, figuring now was the best time to get everything out. "I know I'm a Wayne. I know there's a difference between you and I. I don't know how to bridge it."

It was wild how quickly he activated you, and how equally quickly it was tamed, like a wave crashing on thirsty sand. You walked to his car and slowly slid into the passenger seat. This could be the first block of the bridge; he wanted to drive you home anyway, and this could be a quiet drive to get back to equilibrium. Tears stung the back of your eyelids thinking about your mom again, thinking about the mortality of life; swells of guilt and grief welled up inside you and you bit the inside of your cheek until it was raw to keep the sadness at bay. You tucked your arms and legs and shut the door quietly in hopes he might note your restraint. He didn't know if you really believed him, but you did accept his offer to drive you.

He fought to suppress the screaming nags at the edge of his thoughts as he slipped into the driver's seat and drove off. Bruce's speed made you nervous, transporting you to when he'd nearly flattened a pedestrian the time before. It killed you to bite your tongue but this was the closest thing you'd ever get to a peace treaty, and no one wandered out here anyway. A minute passed in total soundlessness, a quiet neither of you liked but were forced to tolerate, with the alternative being bickering again.

A wash of color illuminated the alleyway. A look out the right side window revealed a smear of jagged red light against a nearby cloud—the bat signal revamped. You heard him sigh. Your research all those months ago had never pictured it anything but white. Before anxiety got the best of you, you broke the silence. "Why is it red?"

"Means it's urgent. I have to get you a cab." After the flooding, Gordon had upgraded the signal protocol—white meant come quickly, and red meant come now. He could still smell the copper from the dead's runoff in the days after the massacre and pictured Gordon, donned in a mask and gloves. "We need to improve our communication method."

You wanted to pester him into letting you come but you were smart enough to realize the implications of Bruce Wayne seen leaving with you and Batman being seen with you shortly after. The signal began to pulse, and Bruce groaned. He took a hard left down the smallest, ricketiest alleyway you'd ever seen, let alone driven a car through. He'd never seen the signal blink like that, but considering the color... he couldn't waste a second.

Just when you thought he might slam into the brick wall at the end of the alley, he hung a right and slammed on the brakes. Before you'd so much as blinked he was headed toward the trunk. "Get in the back so you aren't seen."

You thought you were being fast, but by the time you unbuckled and opened the back door he had donned the suit in its entirety. A shiver went down your spine and you stilled. The last time you'd seen him like this was before you knew a him behind the mask. It was somehow scarier knowing it was him. More reckless. It gave an immediate sense of mortality to the Batman; a poorly placed gunshot, a chink in the armor, a moment lacking focus and it was all over.

As he finished tightening a glove he glanced over to you; that same sensation felt looking back at the same doe eyes. The armor felt heavy as its purpose became negligible. Your hair was wet, and your dress hung limply stuck to the side of your thighs. Black began to smudge on your lower lash line, and your lip color had begun to fray. Panic again. He tore away from your spotlight and landed back in the driver's side. Soon as he heard the click of your belt, he gunned it.

After another minute he spoke. "Stay in the car and stay quiet, it's a dangerous neighborhood." You slumped into the back seat and stared up at the ceiling, your mind swirling with the intricacies of how you'd ended up here in Batman's backseat. And the full suit, Christ. He was menacing.

Skrrt. The tires smeared on the pavement as Bruce parked off an adjacent street. You watched as he rummaged in the middle compartment and pulled out a small blue button. A shield went up between the back and front. "Sit up."

You did, instinctively. It almost felt like a remake of the night you'd nearly been assaulted... fuck, why did the suit bring him so much command? He doesn't own me. He doesn't know me. But right now he was the expert, and you were caught in an unfortunate emergency circumstance. He turned and made direct, unwavering eye contact and you twisted your fingers together struggling to contain the pattering spurred in your chest. He looked down and you could breathe again. His voice was low, but not soft. "Good. No one can see you. I'll be back soon."

After Bruce shut the door and began jogging off, the wash of color shifted from red to white. Had the status changed? Relief grabbed you like an ice bath. Visions of guns shooting wildly had threatened to paralyze you. Gotham's 'severe' was Washington's apocalypse.

The shift caused Bruce to move from a jog to a sprint. Gordon emerged from his police vehicle knocking what looked like a remote against the base of his palm. "This damn thing," He knocked it a few more times before the signal faded, leaving the area considerably darker. Gordon threw his hands up. "I meant it to be white. Reports of a homicide."

"Where?"

"Thirteenth floor of the Rimmel Building. There." He pointed to the building a quarter mile northeast. Flashes of light were intermittent out the windows. "Forensics already started. You were a last minute call.

"Now, I've been warned this is graphic." Gordon paused at the doorframe and glanced over at you for a moment before feeling silly. Why would he care, Jim? For all he knew, and as much he wished to stay blissfully ignorant of it, Batman could have done this himself. He faced front and walked through the doorway.

It was somewhat ordinary to Bruce, at first. His eyes caught the trail of blood toward the doorway, a blood-slicked hammer to its left. He always examined the ground first after the flooding.

Your mind had wandered in strange directions the past ten minutes you'd been locked in the back seat of Bruce Wayne's supercar. So. Bruce sent the money. Alfred entered your thoughts, sitting across from you in his office chair, spectacled, talking casually about how Bruce was kinder than he let on, more compassionate. Had he actually been worried about you back at his place? Was this an expression of care? It had sounded like it, but you could not stop your mind from wandering in all the worst directions about the billionaire's intentions. Did growing up with such massive wealth actually rob him of humanity, or did it simply make him ignorant? Was his character still intact? His moral compass? You certainly hadn't heard of Batman going around killing anyone... that was one of the rules you'd found during research for your paper. Did he leave me here as a trap? Should I leave? Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided you wanted to stick around to see what crime was so urgent it warranted a complete redesign of the iconic logo. You temporarily disabled location services on your phone in case anyone might check and question why you were in the middle of an alley at night, which... sent Mar into a frenzy a minute later.

Y/N?? Where the fuck are you?????

You texted her back, reassuring her you were okay. She kept asking you to call until you finally caved, holding the mic close as you whispered. "Mar, I'm fine!"

"Then why are you whispering?"

"I just can't talk right now. I'm fine.”

"I'm not buying that. Speak up or I need to call the police."

When Bruce moved from the ground to eye-level his mouth twitched toward a grimace. A naked man was strung up in a bastardized crucifix via tarnished throwing knives; his body had streams of caked and fresh blood stained and bubbling down his person which clotted in rolls of flesh on the way down. Gravity had made each knife point sag—and there were many—the flesh poking out like it was overstuffed. He took refuge in the lack of evidence for a fight; he hadn't seemed to suffer, at least.

"I can't talk. Please. I'm fine."

"If the next words you speak aren't above a whisper, I'm dialing 911–"

"Okay! I'm fine!" You'd been louder than you'd meant, a double-edged sword of satisfying her request and making yourself vulnerable.

"Say 'it's all good' if you need help." Mar scribbled something in the background.

Bruce walked closer to the man. He made a mental note to invest in some nasal filters as the decayed stench of dead body singed his nose hairs. It looked to be about 15 knives, and—

"What is it?" Gordon whipped his head around at the sound of Batman inhaling. He was inspecting one of the knives. "If you're looking for prints, he didn't leave 'em."

"Do you see this?" He couldn't believe it. A perfect opportunity. Just as he'd stopped looking... The owls were in plain sight, etched cleanly into the handle of each instrument. Gordon came closer, having to take a moment after turning his nose up. "Where?"

"The handle. The owl."

[co-mixed]

Doctor Doom - The Loveable Autocrat 

Fantastic Four #247 is quite an issue. It impressed me so much, I decided to dedicate a whole post to a single issue. If you’ve been around for a while, you know I almost never do that. There’s usually not enough to say about just one single. And yet, this one forced me to reflect on real-world history and very controversial ideas presented in the book. 

What’s Up

In this issue, the Fantastic Four are forced to help Doom reclaim his place as the monarch of Latveria. Since he was defeated by, well, also the Fantastic Four, his rightful (according to him, obviously) place has been taken by Zorba. Doom can’t think of anything better than taking FF on a tour of the new and improved Latveria in order to show them how much worse life without Doom actually is. 

Now right off the bat, I have plenty of issues with this whole premise. First of all, Doom is a dictator. A nasty, unapologetically evil dictator, whose country is messed up no matter which way you look. We know that from the issues #84-87 in which the FF with Crystal on their team, end up traveling to Latveria to witness the beauty of Doom state. It’s not a pretty picture either: it looks like the land of the free, dressing like it’s the 1910s instead of 1960s, and fachwerk. 

It’s impossible to hide the fact that the people are brainwashed and afraid of their own shadows.

You are free to call me out on imagining too much, but we all know exactly how these states function. 

The Background

In Latveria, the people are forced to love and praise Doom. As long as they keep their head low, do their job, don’t ask for anything, and don’t cross Doom directly- they can live a normal life. This illusion of normalcy comes from everyone knowing their place and the rules to follow. And on paper, it even sounds like a textbook Utopia. It's anything but.

In one issue, for instance, Doom is exercising a favored trick among his peers: a peasant bumps into him, and Doom pretends to forgive him.

But we as readers aren't that easily fooled. He's obviously terrified because he knows the rules, and the main one is to love and obey the "leader". Already sounds culty if you ask me. But what this does in terms of narrative is it establishes the condition of Doomism — his state is built on fear, not on respect. 

When the FF approach the border, they are immediately informed that neither side (neither the soviet bloc nor the democratic countries) can protect their people within Latverian borders. Latveria does not recognize any international agreements or laws which means absolute, unlimited, uncontrolled power in one set of metal hands. If you underestimate the severity of it, imagine that your absolute authority on all matters including basic freedoms is one man who may or may not be insane. 

Like any self-respecting dictator, Doom has a private guard. The one that shoots people if they try to escape his land (which hey, is one of the basic freedoms, shocking.) Doom is clever enough to know what he’s doing, and not nearly naive enough to imagine that if he had allowed his people to move about freely, they would move outside the border and never come back. You can trust me on that. 

When Doom is once again consumed by his desire to destroy the accursed Fantastic Four, he doesn’t think twice about sacrificing a whole village of his “beloved subjects”. And even before that, when his private bot guard gets out of hand, he even informs the populace that anyone who dies would be considered a hero. Sounds vaguely familiar, doesn’t it? If it doesn’t, consider yourself lucky. But keep in mind that the whole situation is solely Doom’s fault. And he handles it in the worst possible way with little regard for his people. 

None of this screams “a leader who truly cares.”

After reading this issue I figured it would've been better and made Doom more sympathetic if his subjects were actually happy. He could've been established as a just and respected leader, especially considering how his predecessor mistreated the people. 

Even with all that, It's hard to imagine such a scenario since power corrupts indiscriminately. Sure, that could've given a complex twist to his character as well as added conflict to the decision the FF ultimately had to make. It could have been a commentary on cultural and historical differences since:

a: monarchies are not that rare in Europe. 

b: Latveria was surrounded by communist states, so it had enough struggles as is. 

That, of course, didn't happen and we got a plain and simple dictator, who follows every other page from the dictators' handbook. A very black-and-white view that was not uncommon for comic books in the '60s and the '70s. 

Changing Spots

In issue #247, John Byrne takes it upon himself to retcon the essence of Doom. This makes sense, the ‘80s have elevated comic book narratives and gave depth to many characters. 

Doom was not an exception. With the FF walking the streets of Doomstadt, we see the devastation that his successor brings to the land. And to top it off, we hear the tragic story of the last few months since Doom has been ousted.

Zorba Fortunov is the heir apparent to the Latverian throne. His father and brother were both murdered by Doom but you shouldn’t feel too bad because they were terrible people and even worse rulers. So is Doom, but we know Doom and we don’t know those guys. 

Doom also tortured Zorba (because, and I don’t want there to be any confusion, torturing your political opponents is exactly what Dooms do.)

Now initially Zorba was portrayed as a member of the resistance who was looking to restore democracy in Latveria. Well, restore would be a loud word. Long story short, with the help of American superheroes (who shamelessly collaborate with the government) Zorba comes to power. 

But democracy is apparently too hard to handle for the state. Because turns out (according to Doom and his loyalists), the repressive laws were actually for the good of the people. They were too afraid to commit crimes. For some reason, they also immediately stopped working which may or may not indicate forced labor. And the ‘prosperous nation of Latveria’ fell into complete disarray. That’s confirmed by a few destroyed streets and fearful citizens but other than that, there is only Doom’s word to prove that. 

This is a great time to note that any major economic transformations are risky and may result in poverty and a rise in crime. Especially in a society that’s not prepared to said changes in stages. We have actually seen that with post-soviet states. 

Either way, Zorba revoked Doom’s cruel laws and punishments (from what we have seen so far, they include murder if “the master” is in a bad mood and you are in his proximity). People were promised an election (which it seems like Zorba really planned to have.) But some happy and liberated citizens of Latveria chose violence and it became so bad, Zorba declared martial law. Which naturally gave him all the power… that he was supposed to already have as an absolute monarch. But who cares? 

Zorba reprogrammed Doom’s personal guard to police the streets and they are referred to as ruthless (as opposed to Doom’s tender and caring ones?)  

So slowly, learning this story, the Fantastic Four figure that the devil they know is actually pretty good compared to the devil they helped install. Despite there being little difference except the fact that Doom was planning to rule till the day he dies (and possibly after). 

And then we see that he cares so much, his main priority is restoring Latveria to its former glory. 

But… why?

Of course, my main question is the idea behind this whole narrative. Are we supposed to believe that a shaky democratic state is much worse than the iron rule of one leader with order? Or is it something very specific to the people of Latveria? If Doom is so great, why does the Fantastic Four fight him relentlessly when he tries to take over the world? And why do they feel entitled to repeatedly make decisions and instigate conflict on behalf of the people of the country? 

I don’t have the answer, I see the story and the attempt to rewrite Doom’s history into something that can justify keeping him around. But if he’s a dictator, if he’s a tyrant, we probably shouldn’t romanticize him that much. Because once again, I want to look at the Latverians here - we rarely really do. They went with a democratic choice, with a possibility of change. And there must have been reasons for that, I mean they were NOT happy. In one of the issues, Doom murders the Ambassador of his own country (ok it was a doombot but if you ask me, same difference). So how exactly does that align with the just leader narrative?

If the idea was to not interfere and let things flow naturally as they are supposed to, why does the FF help reinstall Doom?

Let’s be honest, Zorba doesn’t care much for the people. He proves it in that same arc. But neither does Doom, that’s no secret. And neither do Reed, Sue, Johnny, or Ben. Everyone is this story has their own interests and not one of them is the prosperity of the country. 

They might be able to rewrite Doom and turn him into a good leader, I wouldn’t be surprised because I’ve seen heroes shake hands with him later on. But it still will always feel like a hypocritical joke. 

The suggestion that Doom might be better for the country is one I have a hard time with, on so many levels. We can’t trust the collective amnesia of the populace, caused by the trauma of drastic changes.

At the end of the day, either option is bad for Latveria. Doom is vengeful and bloodthirsty and so is Zorba. Both occasionally had good intentions. In both cases, they didn't matter. Zorba was the rightful monarch, while Doom was an usurper yet both revolutions happened with the participation of the FF. And it doesn't seem like free Latveria is this team's priority.

[duckapus]

Pokemon/WarioWare crossover because why not throw yet another Anime Rewrite AU that I say I'll write a fic for and fully intend to but never do on the pile? (i have issues...)

Five years before the start of the series Delia and Ash find a girl around Ash's age with red eyes lost in a park who can't remember anything about herself except that her name is Ashley. Fallers are a bit more common in this timeline than others (though still pretty rare and not yet well understood) so when the authorities investigate they realize her situation pretty quickly...particularly how near-impossible it would be to get a 5-year-old who seems to be from a world without Pokemon (Fallers typically remember what Pokemon are and can name ones they're familiar with, so the fact that she only refers to them by general terms like "cat" or "bird" and is confused by a lot of their behavior is very telling). Delia, of course, agrees to take her in permanently after they break the news to her (she'd already been looking after Ashley during the investigation because of course she would).

So now Ash has a not-actually-a-twin sister. She still manages to become a witch-in-training since she's still got her massive potential for magic and witchcraft is canonically a thing in the Pokemon Anime. She even manages to summon Red and make him her familiar at seven. She's a bit more outgoing thanks to being raised in the Ketchum household instead of growing up more-or-less alone in that haunted mansion, but at her core she's still the grumpy little witch girl we know and love.

Anyway, she and Ash both plan on challenging the Indigo League, though they're going to travel together at least for their Kanto Journey (...yeah they're definitely gonna stick together even after that 'cause this is still meant to be a canon rewrite), partly because they know ahead of time about the Starter shortage and they figure that as long as at least one of them gets a Pokemon they can help the other catch something on Route 1 so they don't have to wait a month for a new set to be available (what, you really think Oak would've left them in the lurch for a whole year if the shortage had been real and not a Timeline Preservation Measure? though given how big a head start that would give the other trainers (particularly Gary) it still makes sense why 10-year-old Ash acted like it was the end of the world).

Of course, their alarm clock mysteriously breaks and they oversleep and end up with a Pikachu who hates them and an Eevee with absolutely no thoughts in its fluffy little head.

Anyway, things are mostly normal for a while aside from Ashley and Red being along for the ride, up until Power of One, where they encounter Wario. Apparently he ended up in the Pokemon World because he found some sort of magical artifact during one of his treasure hunts. Notably, he isn't Amnesiac like most Fallers, and he's not from the version of the Mushroom World that Ashley originally came from, as evidenced by him recognizing her on-sight even though she would've disappeared before ever meeting him. Anyway, he helps them beat Laurence III, then decides to claim the Hikokyu as spoils of war and fix it up to use as the local WarioWare HQ. So he's settling down in Shamouti for the time being.

Meanwhile, back in the Mushroom world, the WarioWare crew and the main Mario cast are trying to figure out what happened to Wario. They eventually manage to create a pipe that goes between Diamond City and Shamouti at some point midway through Johto...and find out that he ran off to Johto with Melody to challenge their League because he found out that Pokemon Battling, especially official League matches, gets you prize money, and he needed funds for replacement parts to get the Hikokyu up and running. So Mario, Peach, and about half the crew are off to fetch him. They don't finally catch up with him until the Alto Maire incident. Ashley's part of the search party, so she and the AU's main Ashley (and both Reds of course) end up meeting and it's a bit awkward at first. They end up going by Ashley K (for Ketchum of course) and Ashley M (for Mushroom, since she doesn't have a last name and Ashley W would be too clunky to say, plus she wouldn't be caught dead naming herself after Wario) for the sake of convenience (the Reds follow suit, of course).

I also have the idea of having the Hikokyu set up shop in Orre after it's been made skyworthy again and fully converted into a second game studio, then having the WarioWare crew stumble into and run roughshod over Gale of Darkness's plot with their own brand of glorious mayhem while just trying to introduce their games to the fresh new audience the Pokemon World provides.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Love your blog!! hopefully this makes sense⬇️

Do you also find it frustrating that people don’t understand or ignore the interconnectedness of the relationships in iwtv? I keep seeing people say they fear relationships are being shoehorned into season two specifically Lesmand and DM.

But it’s confusing to me that people only want a Loumand season because both characters in that relationship are heavily influenced by their relationships with Lestat. So to me, it’s kind of impossible to understand those characters in the Paris and Dubai timelines without seeing flashbacks and revisiting scenes. Armand’s past deserves to be shown, as it will influence his relationship with Daniel and Louis. Which means that we need flashbacks to DM and Lesmand (even Marius).

Season one is slightly different because Loustat is the relationship which introduces us to the characters. They got the main focus because you don’t want the first season to feel overwhelming showing loads of timelines and relationships to casual viewers. The end of season one introduces us to Loumand and season two will show their story which means Lestat being shown as he’s vital to their past.

Maybe it’s just the hardcore shippers worried about this stuff? I understand people wanting their favourite couples having screen time. I trust Rolin Jones he will do them all justice. I just want to see vampires being absolute freaks in every era no matter what the ship.

I don’t know if I articulated my point properly but I hope you get what I mean.

I think I do :) (And glad you like!)

The thing is... this show is not like the others. In a good way. It's color-conscious, it's not shying away from the difficult stuff, it puts its proverbial fingers into wounds, and it clearly, obviously does not simplify the relationships.

Said it yesterday, but who would've thought we would get this. Honestly.

So... I can understand why that is something that needs to get used to by "casual show only viewers". I get it.

And on top of the show and its approach you have a source material which does not shy away from anything either. Like, Anne Rice was ... something. Definitely not unproblematic, but also fucking fearless.

And the combination of this... dense and vivid source material in combination with this kind of approach?!

It's just something that's not really been on screen before, imho.

Show of the decade, and all that :)

This combination is also why the show may be so hard to grasp for many more casual viewers, or even book readers who have maybe "only" read the first few books. Because the show is not doing only the first few books. It's doing the big arcs. It's putting in hooks, "seeds" as Assad called them iirc, to be taken up later, to come fully into play only much later.

There is a plan behind it all.

And I think that's amazing.

So to come back to the "shipping" - I have ranted about this before^^, but all the "ships" are valid in the VC. That is another thing that sets it apart from other medias and shows I think.

And that is something fandom in general might not be quite "used to" either. Because a ship does not usually need to be canon or valid in the source material to be shipped.

But here?^^

There is no need to fight or defend, or establish or justify.

They just are.

Yes I do find it frustrating at times, especially with the time that has past between seasons... but I also understand it.

It's just not like (in) other shows and that will take getting used to.

I think the show will let them be the "freaks" in every era though, and I think that's very, very beautiful :)))

[boomania]

@astrxlfinale:

There's a thoughtful pause given as said Country Bumpkin tenses up. Did his eyes proceed to roam in that moment? Lighter wouldn't think of it as impossible, that innate realm of 'appreciation' could lead to the passing glance when the person was decked out in form fitting attire. If people thought cases of idle hands were a plague that lead to foolishness, idle eyes should absolutely be led right up to that list. A soft ahem escapes as he leans his head one way to another, removing the kinks. "Hadn't meant for a possession to go n' strike me so suddenly. Apologies." Normally, there would've been a dispute to this very claim. Yet, it's the nature of that attire, no less set in the Outer Ring that felt like an introduction to nothing but trouble. He's been noticing a lot more 'Suit & Tie' times being more open to explore these ends more often.

"Let's switch up the ante, welcome to the Outer Ring. I certainly won't be a distraction to any business you have here. If anything, you can consider me a mere shadow, wallflower, floating dust in the background."

It doesn't help that earlier today there was almost an altercation with the cops in the city. His nerves weren't trying to test fate with another thread of New Eridu's big leagues.

Why did something in his soul tell him it wouldn't be that easy? Why did his eyes have to go and act with a will of their own?

Ah. The chaos factor of peaches.

A puzzled raise of an eyebrow. The way he rationalized his actions (wallflower? really?), combined with the scorching heat. It was clear that the irritation was setting in. Sweat was wiped from her forehead.

"Charmed to be welcomed at such a short notice, sir." Parked right next to her was a heavily armored military-grade humvee that she just stepped out of. "Though, I do believe me and my crew are kind of lost. While, you-" STOMP! STOMP!

A mechanical soldier came into view appearing behind the vehicle, which instantaneously shot- FWSCHHOOOWSHH! - AN RPG STRAIGHT AT Lighter's parked motorbike! KABOOM!

...

It did not survive.

"-You are left stranded in the middle of nowhere without your vehicle, sir." She continued like nothing happened.

"We can both get something out of each other now, no? We need a guide, you need a ride. Sounds fair?" That same robot companion of hers would open a door for the unfortunate gentleman. "I've been told the famous Cheesetopia is also near your locale. Shall we dine there? It would be my treat while you get your motorbike fixed. What kind of madman would obliterate a biker's - well - bike." Said monotonously, as she waits for him to accept or reject her offer.

[youngpettyqueen]

just finished Bloodletter! thoughts under the cut

tl;dr: SUCH A GOOD FUCKING BOOK easily one of my top favs of the DS9 books ive read so far

this book was a fucking RIIIIIIIDE and I loved it so much. some absolutely INSANE scenes, and such fantastic character exploration. just, holy shit, what a good book. I had a hard time putting it down. this was supposed to be my book for work but I couldnt stop myself from reading it at home as well. it was gripping, it was fun, it was beautifully written, it was everything I could've wanted

first of all, incredible Kira story. so brutal and so real, focuses so much on the heart of her character, her history with the resistance and how shes still so haunted and traumatized. this is early s1 Kira, still very hotheaded and clashing with Sisko, really feeling torn between two worlds and struggling to do right by Bajor. her story with the Redemptorists was INCREDIBLE. K. W. Jeter doesnt shy away from Kira's bloody past, and does so without condemning her, and god if you somehow managed to watch literally anything with Kira and NOT feel for her, this book will make you feel for her. Jeter has a fantastic grasp of Kira as a character and explores her beautifully, giving her this tense, gripping story that showcases all parts of her, viciousness and vulnerability holding hands and making for a wonderfully layered and complex story

I LOVED the villain of this novel. Hören was delicious to read, he was written super well, and im particularly a fan of the spirituality that permeates everything with him from the way he speaks, thinks, and even to the way he's described. he's terrifying in how realistic he is as a villain- a sadistic, fanatic man with followers in his echo chamber, mercilessly hunting and tormenting Kira. the sequences in this novel that were onboard the substation, with Kira having to hide from him and figure out how to defend herself while shes completely alone and he has the advantage, were genuinely nerve-racking. he's a very easy villain to hate, just so genuinely fucked up. I would've loved to actually see him on the screen, he would've made for a fantastic recurring villain in the early seasons, or even if just this novel had been a 2 part episode

the Sisko POVs of this novel were fascinating. again, this novel is set in early s1, so this is Sisko very early on, still trying to figure all this shit out. he's struggling with the Bajoran side of everything, struggling to find his place, and all the while he's butting heads with Kira and wrestling with the Cardassian government and his own morality as he finds himself stooping to their level in order to try to succeed for the sake of DS9 and the Federation and Bajor. Sisko really cant catch a break ever, especially not here, where he has to juggle officers determined to rebel against him, Cardassians breathing down his neck and lying to him, and Bajor relying on him while the Federation looms over his shoulder. its all just such fascinating insight into this character who has so much on his shoulders right from the get go, and who has to constantly try to make the best decisions in impossible situations

Julian's part in this novel is WILD. first of all- Julian and Kira besties agenda. I fucking LOVE that they genuinely dont like each other, it lines up really well with how they were in early s1. Kira cant stand Julian, and he doesnt particularly care for her, and theyre going on this mission together and they both nearly get killed and in the end they come to a sort of understanding. but what really got me with Julian was his sequence where he's trapped in the wormhole and actually communicates with the Prophets?? that was INSANE. god, its so fucking wild to think of Julian talking with the Prophets. these books are beta canon, I know, but the implications of Julian being one of the VERY few people who gets to talk to them... fascinating. and we get to see an early glimpse of just what Julian is willing to risk in order to save people- he gets himself sent to the literal death of the universe because thats the only way he can get to Kira without harming the Prophets. I love that the last scene of the novel was these two, Julian patching Kira up, and Kira agreeing to go get a drink with him. it felt like a natural progression in their relationship, going from hostile to an understanding, having gone through this really horrific thing together. Julian and Kira's relationship in the show isnt a big focus, and theyre friendly coworkers at best for the most part, but in my heart. they are besties

I would highly recommend this book to anyone wanting a really solid Kira story with some characteristically Trek insanity. this book is truly wild from start to finish, with some fantastic concepts and wild ideas, and I loved every second of it. Kira is shining brightly throughout, with a lovingly crafted and masterfully executed story behind her, and some of the best character writing ive encountered for her thus far in my journey into reading DS9 books. on top of that, youve got an amazing villain who will make your skin crawl, some great Julian character development, great Sisko moments, and even some fun stuff with Odo and Quark I didnt get to in my overall thoughts. seriously, go read this book, and thank me later its so so fucking good

[beautifulpersonpeach]

The SM-Jessica special? That's interesting. Do you really think there's something SM did to set up and blacklist MHJ the way they did for Jessica?

***

Lol Anon,

You might as well be asking me if water is wet. There's no need to even work to come up with a conspiracy, you just have to be aware of very recent history that is public information. I mean, think about it. JYJ from TVXQ remain effectively blacklisted 20 years later (even though they have made the most remarkable improvement in the last five years), while Yunho and Changmin maintain a thriving career and spotless reputation (despite occasional whispers on k-blogs that are promptly deleted); Kris Wu from EXO, when the allegations were first made against him, he pointed out how the first girl from the Chinese chatroom had obtained the highest clearance access to him that would've been impossible without ridiculously high financial backing (he's still a rapist so it doesn't matter, but still); you already know what happened to Jessica. There's a reason SM Entertainment has earned a reputation of being the absolute worst of all the top k-pop agencies in Korea, for the entirety of the company's existence.

More recently, during the EXO-CBX slave contract scandal, an anonymous staff blind from SM posted on gossip blogs asserted that Chen, Baekhyun, and Xiumin were extremely entitled and ungrateful fuck-ups who trampled on the other staff at SM - it was a massive and effective hit job (link to the blind here - translation here). In Korea there's chatter about how the change in sentiment against CBX due to that letter, was likely a factor in the trio quickly reaching an agreement with SM.

And then there's Min Heejin. Consider how she said when the allegations were first made, her response was that the pictures of "naked children" on her wall were a gift from a friend, that they weren’t even hers and that the claim she's a pedophile was completely absurd. Very normal and expected claims from someone who wanted to defend herself. Likely an excuse. What she didn't say though, was who that friend was. That was answered less than a week later when an SM employee (with a posting history spanning years and not a burn account), posted a blind that she was the one who presented the pictures to Min Heejin and even took it upon herself to hire help to hang up the pictures on her wall, as a present to MHJ, her dear friend, who she had a history of posting about (MHJ) as a bitch, a whore, and the parasite who stood in her way of advancing at SM... There was fairly normal chatter from the Koreans in the comment section of that post, but everybody understood what happened. The next day that post and the account that made it were deleted.

Lol.

Shinwha has been the only group to somewhat escape SM and remain fairly independently successful, but the company has also done everything to make sure that's not repeated for anyone else. Including Min Heejin. Who chose to work at HYBE, of all places. Remember that tomfoolery about the "Pink Bloods"? I promise you Chris Lee and several staff think in very tribal terms about their business culture. And this is something that's widely assumed and accepted on the k-side.

Of course, none of this information really makes it to the international side. Or people note it in bits and pieces that may or may not be properly translated or shown to carry the right weight. Either way, there's a natural information barrier between Korean and international fandoms, there's Korean fans of rival groups who wouldn't want this to spread, in favour of the current narrative against MHJ and it's easy to see how SM can use this to their advantage. Also, the competitiveness inherent to k-pop ensures that so long as NewJeans is the top girl group, they are deserving of the worst and most dehumanizing handicap in k-pop: the ick factor of pedophilia.

I mean, I saw in real time how k-pop stans were in love with NewJeans precisely up till the moment the pre-order numbers for their debut album was released and was on pace to break records set by any other debut at the time. The moment that happened people started looking for anything to detract from the group, there were even bullying accusations started for Minji randomly on naver but ofc it never gained traction because only a few hours later, an account that hadn't posted since February 2022 suddenly posted a a massive thread about how the pictures on Min Heejin's wall on her Instagram (which had been posted for months without incident) were actually proof she's secretly a pedophile, therefore, NewJeans should be boycotted, hated, and shunned or MHJ should abandon working with NewJeans. This is a narrative they will never let up because it's easy to use, extremely damaging, and cruel. It's why:

none of the groups Min Heejin worked on as Creative Director while at SM, such as SHINee, f(x), NCT Dream and NCT more broadly, Red Velvet, etc, are treated as 'created with pedophilia in mind' the way it's applied to NewJeans, even though they ascribe to MHJ every portion of responsibility for the song and artist, as though it's all her work;

Also, why is it that the whole team of people who worked with MHJ at SM, many with known public sordid histories, people whose choices would've certainly shown in the work as well - why aren't they awarded even a sliver of attention or responsibility? That's how we have people believing the lyrics for Ice Cream Cake by Red Velvet were under the direction of graphic designer and CD MHJ.... Like, seriously lmao. Going by her job description, her involvement would’ve began and ended in the styling and overall art direction of the group and MV. It's one of the most iconic MVs in k-pop btw.

even they admit that MHJ is singlehandedly responsible for creating our current idea of "concepts" in k-pop. N.B: the idea that a conceptual thematic for a group, debut, and comeback should be centered around one central idea - it was established and promoted by MHJ in SM which helped establish SM as a formidable company in the Big3. Most of the classics from SM were overseen by MHJ;

It's also why names like Park Jin-young, Yang Hyun-suk, and Yoo Young-jin are names you might prolly feel the need to google to be certain of who they are, despite three of them being three of the biggest names in k-pop, certified male creeps with known public histories of drooling over teen girls on camera while being the right-hand man for a guy wanted by Interpol as in the case of YYJ (and then debuting minor groups); disbanding their groups and having sex with them while underage and then later marrying them as in the case of YG, installing cameras in their bathrooms and then debuting a group like Treasure and BabyMonster; taking minors to R Kelly's house and then debuting them with his partnership as in the case of JYP, and then debuting Wonder Girls, Itzy, NMIXX with minors and questionable approaches... and yet none of these groups are expected to be boycotted to punish their 'creepy CEO'. Even though all three men are heavily involved in their companies and in managing their groups, including in creative direction, and they take ownership of that work... they’re not treated with the same venom left for MHJ, even their groups' works aren't judged as being the product of those men alone (a reasonable assumption), the way it's done for MHJ with NewJeans (an unreasonable assumption).

To hurt the opposing fandom and group is the point for a lot of fans here, unfortunately. And that’s why k-pop stans will continue to push the pedophilia label on NewJeans and MHJ. It’s something I said as soon as their pre-release order numbers dropped before debut. Just given the nature of the threat NewJeans poses to every girl group, *and* the fact they’re from HYBE, guarantees they will always be hated by majority of k-pop stans.

I do have to mention there's many honest to goodness earnest k-pop stans who think they're genuinely exposing a danger to society, and while they could be right, most of the allegations against MHJ simply do not hold up under intense scrutiny, by my standards at least. And even if she is a criminal and a freak, I wouldn't care anyway the way I don't care now for YYJ, YG, and JYP - bonafide groomers and creeps, managing their groups till now.

That's just the fact.

And y'all already know how I feel about Cookie lol.

[nakasumi-sims]

Cody and the Reaper's Rewards 💀 pt 1

(Note: this is somewhat of an AU)

It has been a couple years of Cody taking a break from ghost hunting after he and Satoru moved out of the dorms and into their own place. It would've been impossible for them to afford such a place without the treasure they found the night Cody proposed to Satoru. Things have seemed to go well for the couple, even in the uncertainty of their safety. The two married, and Satoru got the family he always wanted, now with three little ones of their own which Cody still can't believe. Cody still runs the paranormal investigator business, but the rest of the gang has moved on to chasing their own aspirations after graduation. But they still visit Cody and Satoru often. However, there's still one problem that plagues Cody the most. Satoru is a god and he's just a mortal. How long can their happiness last like this? He can't be just a blip in Satoru's life. It's too painful to think about leaving Satoru alone. Even their demigod children may outlive him, but without immortality, death will come for them too. The boys know they can't let that happen. They will find a way. They have to find a way to stay together...

One afternoon, Nicholas comes over to visit. Just the usual hanging out with his bestie and his favorite nieces and nephew. Today, Cody has a proposition for Nicholas. "I've been doing some research in my spare time and I came across something. I haven't really asked Satoru about it yet, but y'know about ambrosia, right? From the old greek myths. What if I can figure out how to get a hold of some?"

"I'm down to help. Actually, I'm kind of excited! It's been way too long since we've done any investigations together. I'm not really sure how the hell you plan to go about this, but we could break out the old crystal ball and see if you can still commune with the spirits. Maybe we'll find something out that way?" Nicholas responds.

"Psh, I can still see and talk to ghosts and stuff just fine." Cody scoffs. "Damn, I haven't broken that old thing out in a few years. I'm sure it's around here somewhere. Hmmm...it could be in the attic."

The two managed to find it up in the attic. Just like old times in the dorms, there's no space for it to be sitting out constantly, especially now with demigod toddlers running around. With barely any proper space for it still, Cody decides to set up their seance in the laundry room. Expecting answers from the spirits about ambrosia is a long shot. However, it looks like Cody's managed to get a clue. Let the journey to immortality begin!

Scratch that. The investigation is put on hold for the day. Nicholas has been called home and the kids need some TLC.

Our daddies get to work on bathtime for their little dumplings. Cody takes care of baby Kazuhiko's needs. While Satoru bathes Sayori, the middle child. Cody never imagined he'd be married with kids. It's chaotic, but he'd do anything for them even if, at times, they drive him a little crazy. Satoru's absolutely in love with their life and one of his favorite things is dressing the kids up in cute outfits. Which Cody can't do for the life of him. Hell, he'd let them run around in mismatched everything or naked. Not to piss off Satoru, but he thinks it's fine and he has a hard time trying to put any traditional clothing on squirming toddlers.

After bathtime, Cody helps Kazuhiko try hummus for the first time. It didn't go well. Then the boys got all three kids down for bed and decided to take a late nap which turned into them sleeping through the night in their clothes.

Next

[wistfulwatcher]

Hi! I haven't been able to emotionally prepare to watch the Yellowjackets s2 finale, but even without having seen it I'm having so many thoughts.

I struggle to articulate how I feel about Natalie dying. I can feel in my heart though a way I've felt before when I start to fall out of love with a story. When I have this idea of what this story is about but then it turns out it wasn't what I thought it was.

I'm not sure whether I personally can say with any kind of confidence the decision to kill Natalie is a bad writing choice because I think what's a bad choice depends on what you think the story is about.

I think where they've lost me is that I thought this was an ensemble character study of these surviving women and the question of whether they can every integrate back into society now that their wildness has been set free. They're maenads forced to come back to their domestic lives.

I may have had a more I guess feminist view on this show than maybe it ever intended to go there. I thought this was a show about these fierce, complicated women who were able to escape the social confines in the wilderness and while now they are physically safe, feel alienated and numb. And the challenge isn't so much a survival question as it is on where they fit into the world now. In the wilderness, they probably would've eaten each other until there was nothing left. In society, they feel purposeless, alienated and disconnected. So the challenge for the adults is how to reconcile these two points. How to not devolve into mad self-destruction but also how to give their wildness room to run.

Want to know what my ideal ending was? I was hoping for a bittersweet conclusion where the women resign themselves to never being able to fit into society again and they return to the wilderness BUT this time instead of Lottie leading them, it's Natalie. That's what I thought the white moose meant, an omen that was only shown to Natalie but one that was ignored in the teen timeline as Lottie took power. And as a Mistynat person as well what would be interesting about this is that it would mean Misty was the first true believer in Natalie as queen. Someone called Misty the personification of the wilderness so that would explain why, despite Lottie being queen, it is Nat who has Misty's ultimate devotion. So in the adult timeline their fates would be unknown but at least in a way they're free now and they've chosen their trauma bond with each other over 'safer', 'healthier' options that don't feel as real and meaningful. (Also would love if Callie joined them because they bring more maenads with them)

I'm sharing this with you because I've appreciated your thoughts because they've helped me process some of my feelings over this story that I love so much, but now I'm not sure how to feel about. And also I wondered if my take on this show resonates with you because the biggest thing this is doing my head in is that I feel like I've read this story completely wrong?? And it breaks my heart to think that I did.

Anyway I love your writing and your thoughts and sorry it was so long but just wanted to say I appreciate you in this fandom <3

Thank you so much for this message, and I completely agree with 100% of what you've said here. It absolutely resonates with me, and you've identified what my biggest problem is: where season two ended up is not the show I felt I was watching in season one. I had the exact same read on it that you did, and while we could both be projecting/overestimating how feminist it truly was, I felt like the building blocks were so firmly there. I guess I was drawn to both the potential of what it could be, and the fact that it truly seemed like it was going in that direction.

I love your ideal ending for the show, and I think - even if it wasn't what we would have gotten - based on season one, it was a believable direction for the show to go. After season two, it's impossible. And I feel the same way, wondering how I could have read this show so wrong. I really don't think we did, based on the first season. But I guess if we did, it's at least the two of us in this together!

I'm so so glad that what I've written about the episode has helped you process. Screaming about it was one of the only things that helped me, and I'm still upset days later, to be honest.

I think it just hurts to have to mourn both a great character and a great show; both the show and Natalie sparked something in me that I hadn't had for a long time, and I just feel defeated about it. I know what you mean about the feeling of falling out of love with a story. That's so what this is, and that Karyn Kusama interview really put the nail in the coffin for me that this is not the show I thought we were getting. And that I have no interest in watching women suffer until they die, without offering any kind of depth beyond that. I wanted dark and complex, but I didn't want completely hopeless.

Thank you for this message, and I appreciate you being in this fandom, too! I'm so glad we can at least feel this way together ❤️

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

I don't like to use the term "Magnus Archives but American" because I feel TMA is very English in it's own special way. But I absolutely had an American TMA moment today.

So in my state, like all states in the US, you can go to any DMV to get whatever task you need done. The DMVs in my state are on an appointment basis and the DMV in my town was booked completely for like a week out. Luckily the DMV in the next town over had a slot for today. So I gather my paperwork and set off to go to this DMV.

Now usually, DMVs are their own standalone buildings. At least the ones I've been to. This one is situated in a strip mall. Odd but whatever.

I plug the address in my phone and the maps app doesn't take me to the actual location of the DMV. No, it stops me in front of the strip mall. Just right in front of it. I can't see a sign for the DMV. I see signs for a local chain restaurant, a guitar store, and a cell phone repair place. But no DMV.

So I drive around the strip mall. I pass by various storefronts for nutrition shops, wellness centers, liquor outlets, and vape stores. Still no DMV. I pass by an exotic pet place and an Aldi and a nail salon. Still no DMV. I pass empty storefronts with For Lease signs faded by weather and time. No DMV.

Finally, after 10 minutes of driving around an impossibly large strip mall for such a small town, I see the DMV. Unassuming, plain, with only a big Division of Motor Vehicles sign over the door to explain what it is.

I go inside, endure the DMV, get everything taken care, and leave without issue. And when I say leave without issue, I mean I had no problem getting away from the strip mall and back to my town.

I only call this experience akin to TMA because it truly felt like I was trapped in some sort of suburban American hell for a moment there. Stuck in my car, circling a ludicrously large strip mall, passing various oddball stores and a few chains, my maps app not helping at all, worrying if I even had everything I needed for the DMV.

(And honestly if the DMV lady had told me I brought the wrong documents I probably would've broken. Didn't help that my mind has been weakened from moving.)

[raincamp]

7 - 27 - 23

today has been... a lot. i have a lot to talk about because it really just keeps snowballing, ive had the worst fucking BPD episode today

so i wrote this this morning, expecting to get to actually have a session with my therapist today, since yk, i did finally make an appointment with her referral (for context if you didn't read my last posts, she basically said: no appts until i start addiction counseling bc she can't treat addiction) //

"i've been having the worst and most painful fucking week of my life only for everything to be entirely made up by my imagination, oh how i fucking hate paranoid ideation

as i'm writing this i have about an hour before my therapy appointment— which i was one hundred and ten percent sure was going to be rescheduled, and that i was going to be terminated, because apparently my therapist doesn't like me— and i'm having so many urges to like, hurt myself, or do something to prove that I've been in pain this week because now that i've realized it was all just paraoia my pain no longer feels valid, or justifiable, or even real because of my emotional impermanence making it literally impossible for me to relive the emotions i was experiencing even 5 hours ago.

im partly glad that i only blew up at her once, i think i would be so much more embarrassed had i not. not to say that im not entirely ashamed of my entire reaction to something as small as this, but i also feel like she would've been able to understand how much I've been struggling this week if i had. and since I can't wholly remember how it felt, if it exists in somebody else then it makes it more real. idk. i just want my pain to be validated by her so much."

i was fully ready for her to text me today and be like "oh chill you made an appt see you in an hour" but what i got instead was radio silence. so i checked my appointment portal only to see our standing appointments for the next 3 weeks cancelled.

believe me when i say, my heart fucking dropped, i mean like, it was on the fucking floor, i was hit so hard i couldnt breathe for several minutes.

so, yk, i text her begging for an appointment like the pathetic emotional parasite that i am, and all i get in response is a "we can reschedule once you've attended your intake appointment" so i was like, welp, that sucks bc my intake is next week on a Thursday, so now i have to go two weeks without therapy. absolutely triggered the fuck out of me, i was crying, SOBBING on my floor, it just hurt so fucking much. i felt like i was being ripped apart and sewn crudely back together again, over and over again, everytime i calmed down enough to breathe it would start over again, wave after wave of sadness and shame and abandonment and rage and grief and desperation. i just wanted to stop feeling so much PAIN.

and yk what i did, instead of hurting myself like i nornally would, i texted my therapist like i've been taught to in DBT. she's SUPPOSED to be there to help me when i need it. thats literally in her contract.

mid-sob i typed out a message that was more akin to me begging her to pull me out of a sea of misery and perform CPR on me than professionally asking for help, but i genuinely didnt know what to do, and i STILL don't, because distress tolerance only goes so far, ive been feeling like this, constantly, since our last session.

and she just responded with reminding me that she set the boundary a week ago and we talked about a referral 11 days ago, but she was available for an appointment in two weeks (meaning ANOTHER week without therapy, total: 3) . completely ignoring my plea for help. it felt like she was telling me "hey just a reminder, this is entirely a consequence of your own actions. have fun dealing with it yourself!!"

i have fucking BPD, the only way i KNOW how to deal with anything is by hurting either myself or the people around me. and im THIS close to self destructing and quitting therapy altogether.

i am so fucking pissed at her, idk how she can expect me to survive three weeks without stable treatment. especially after i was hospitalized last month for a suicide attempt?? she knows how much im suffering right now. is keeping a boundary really so important that she can't even help me when im hurting this much?

all i want right now is to scream at her, and im definitely going to, at the very least, be as much of an arse as i can over text, idk, i feel like i deserve to let myself be angry at her. its definitely justified, despite what i said before. theres clear evidence now that I wasn't being paranoid.

i just feel so abandoned by her, physically and emotionally, i feel like i have nobody, i feel like im back to where i was before i started treatment. its so frustrating, and painful. and the fact that this is due to an addiction that i dont have any control over is making me feel even worse.

im trying to figure out why she's doing this, like, she's shown shes competent, i genuinely cant understand how doing this is supposed to help me. how is putting me through this much pain going to help? its making me so unstable. and ik im going to relapse again at some point before i get to see her again.

im trying not to think about it anymore, because everytime i do i start crying again. its to the point where i have a killer headache and my eyes hurt so much from the amount of tears ive spilled.

i fucking hate this disorder so much. nobody but me would be this attached to their therapist. normal people would be able to cope with someone setting boundaries easily. this shouldnt be causing me to feel this way. its not fair. im so exhausted from having to hurt so much all the time, at this point its chronic, its become background noise, its my idle state, and im enraged about it.

i hope good omens season 2 lives up to my expectations.

- andrew