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puzzling-reeds · 6 months ago

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I know this has been talked to death in the Yu-Gi-Oh 5D's community, but....

This is gonna have spoilers for this almost 20-year-old show. You've been warned. This analysis is also long. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm a heathen who doesn't know what word counts are.

Early-days Jack x Carly is legitimately so cute. Perfect? Nah. But pretty dang good as far as Yu-Gi-Oh romances go.

Briefly recapping: After losing (again) to Yuusei, Jack's ego is obliterated, and he starts to question his past choices. He betrayed his closest friends chasing a life that wound up being so transient, and by the time he meets Carly, Jack's regret over those decisions is at its highest.

As a journalist, Carly has her own reasons for entering Jack's orbit, but she comes to realize he's not as self-absorbed as she initially thought he was. Carly herself is a foil to the old Jack. She's driven in her work but describes herself as someone who finds joy in the success of others. She's a lot closer to Yuusei in that way, as she's willing to put aside her own interests (e.g., getting the scoop on Jack being from Satellite) for the sake of other people (e.g., having a moment of human connection with Jack when he's at his lowest).

In the end, she offers him some advice. She doesn't try to appeal to his ego and instead states that Jack is capable of redemption. He should abandon his past conception of what it means to be a king and instead try to be a "real king," someone who "brings joy to everyone."

After this conversation, Jack resolves to be a better person and leaves with more clarity on who he wants to be, symbolized by him leaving behind his fake glasses at the end. Jack and Carly part with mutual respect and a broader perspective of one another. Even later heading into the Dark Signers arc, Jack expresses worry for Carly despite his secretiveness about the signers, telling her to be careful.

And then Carly

Dies.

Her last thought is of Jack and regretting she couldn't be with him again. That regret allows her to be reborn as a dark signer, and she and Jack rocket toward an eventual clash. Her dream of being together with Jack is corrupted to such a degree that she's willing to embrace the apocalypse and rule over the ashes with Jack. Obviously, this dream contradicts Jack's new character, and he knows the real Carly would feel the same.

Their conversation inspired such a fundamental change in Jack that he's only willing to kill her if he dies with her. Moreover, Carly is presented as Jack's better half. While Jack abandoned the glasses of his earlier disguise from the park, he holds onto Carly's glasses that she lost when she died. He clings to his memory of her and--to a greater degree--her values of compassion and vicarious joy.

Before Jack can activate his trap that'll kill them both, though, Carly activates her own trap that kills her alone. In the moments leading up to her death, we get more insight into Carly's worldview.

Carly's dying wish was to be with Jack, and she's now wracked with guilt for having desired her own happiness that wasn't contingent on the happiness of others. This is Carly's internal philosophy: She is only deserving of secondhand happiness. Obviously, this is an incorrect mindset. If seeking your own happiness is wrong, then no one would ever be happy. Jack makes this point in his following comment. Notably, Jack's point doesn't entirely sink in for Carly before she dies. She continues to view her happiness as subservient to others', adopting a bystander/cheerleader role.

Still, before she dies, Carly finally confesses that she loves Jack. They're able to be together briefly like she wanted before she disappears, leaving behind only her glasses that Jack's kept with him this whole time.

Jack also confesses his own love for Carly and later reiterates that love during his duel with Godwin.

CHARACTER ANALYSIS

Although they don't have too many conversations together, we get enough insight into Carly and Jack's individual viewpoints on life throughout season two. Since both Yuusei and Carly are foils to Jack, I think it's worth defining how their positions differ.

Jack and Yuusei are foils regarding their ideas of bonds.

Yuusei, through his duels with Kiryuu in the Dark Signers arc, realizes that he has an extreme view of bonds. He was willing to give himself up to the police for Kiryuu, taking credit for his mistakes, and that backfired on Yuusei tremendously. In short, Yuusei's fatal flaw is that he is too self-sacrificing. It's important to note that Yuusei's flaw is apparent during their Team Satisfaction days--before Jack's betrayal. Jack's actions serve to solidify Yuusei's self-sacrificial view rather than create it.

Jack is on the other extreme. Jack is willing to sacrifice everything to achieve his dreams, but after losing to Yuusei twice, Jack starts to see the fault in that logic. His dreams were shallow without friends to share them with. It's only upon talking with Carly that Jack formally resolves to do right by others from then on. He expresses to Godwin that Carly showed him that bonds are inescapable, and during his earlier duel with Carly, Jack is willing to sacrifice himself to be together with her in death--a choice he never would've made before meeting her.

In these ways, both Yuusei and Jack are on opposing sides of this debate, and other characters motivate them to remedy their flawed positions.

Jack and Carly, however, are foils regarding their ideas of happiness.

From her final conversation with Jack in the Dark Signers arc, we learn that Carly is hesitant to pursue happiness for herself, considering it selfish to do so. She celebrates the happiness and successes of others and must learn that it is OK to seek that same happiness for herself. Jack calls her out on this warped perspective at the end, arguing that everyone would be selfish if her viewpoint were reality.

Jack, on the other hand, is originally dismissive of the happiness of other people. He betrays his closest friends in order to leave the Satellite and openly mocks Yuusei when they finally meet again in episodes three and four; he feels no sense of obligation toward the well being of his friends. Carly encourages Jack to be the kind of king that "brings joy to everyone," injecting her own opinion that it is possible to find happiness in the happiness of others.

Another way Jack and Carly impact each other is through how active they are in their own lives. Although Jack is duped by Godwin, he is an active player and wants to view himself as such. He's openly upset at himself for falling for Godwin's appeals to his ego, calling himself a clown for doing so, and strives to take charge of his own destiny.

Carly, conversely, remains an observer in her own life. She is active in her career, yes, but her motivation to become a journalist is grounded in her desire to highlight and celebrate the achievements of others, not due to any personal ambition like Jack. This passiveness is further clarified by Carly and Jack's relationships with destiny. Carly frequently uses her deck as a horoscope, and Misty foretells that Carly will die. Even after Carly becomes a dark signer, Carly proclaims that she and Jack are connected by fate.

During their duel in the Dark Signers arc, Carly's dark signer voice presents itself as an extreme version of this belief: What Carly wants doesn't matter, as she has no autonomy in the face of destiny.

On the other side, Jack is the philosophical opposition. He backs Carly into a corner with his card aptly called "Change Destiny." He says that Carly inspired him to take control of his own life and encourages her to do the same with his "Change Destiny" trap. Carly has to choose whether or not to kill Jack (securing the victory she apparently wants as a dark signer) or benignly restore her own life points. She ultimately chooses the latter, proving Jack's point and his faith in her.

Even when he decides he'd rather die with Carly, Jack frames it to himself as a destiny he's chosen. He wants to go out on his own terms, not as a puppet of fate. In the end, Carly decides the same, saving Jack and encouraging him to save the world.

In these ways, both Carly and Jack's conflicting views push them toward moderating their perspectives. Their contrasting ideas of personal fulfillment and destiny make Carly and Jack's relationship rich for exploration, especially seeing as Carly still has room to grow by the time she dies at the end of the Dark Signers arc. What does her taking control of her own life look like after her revival? Does she pursue her own definition of happiness, and what does personal happiness mean to her?

So, what does happen after the Dark Signers arc?

Carly comes back to life but doesn't remember any of the Dark Signers arc. Occasionally, she feeds Jack convenient plot info or helps him out, but mainly, Carly pines comically for Jack, who wants nothing to do with her all the way through the series finale. :/

WHERE WAS THE "I WAS CHANGED BY THE LOVE OF A WOMAN" ENERGY???? WHERE WAS IT???? DID NONE OF IT MATTER????

Maybe the true clowns were the ones we became along the way.

Jokes aside, we all know this was a missed opportunity. But what could the writers have done?

My Clown Fanon Takes

Frankly, I don't think they would've had to have changed too much. Let Carly keep her memories. Let her and Jack be a couple. They can do cute cameos in the background together or a filler episode or two exploring their relationship while Carly follows leads and Jack duels. But most importantly,

Make 👏 Jack 👏 a simp!

And by simp, I don't mean pathetic. I mean have him actually treat Carly right. Jack has a rough-and-tumble nobility about him, so go the chivalrous route. I'm talking "girlfriend's heels are killing her after scoping out a gala for leads so you lend her your big man shoes and hold her stilettos" type chivalry. I don't say this because I think it'd be cute (as much as it would be), but because I think it's a natural extension of the relationship they already had.

Carly struggles to accept happiness for herself. Jack is learning to find joy in the happiness of others. It'd be fitting to have Jack sacrifice in small, healthy ways because it shows that he cares for Carly and that seeing her happy makes him happy by extension. Carly would obviously still show up to Jack's tournaments, cheer him on, and help him when he was hospitalized during the World Racing Grand Prix, keeping a good give-and-take balance in the relationship.

Similarly, the second point of exploration for Carly's character was ambition. In the beginning of season two, we see that her professional life is in shambles. Her boss sucks. She lives in her car. Keep her as a journalist, but have her pursue a different job. The WRGP is an international tournament, so perhaps expose Carly to global reporting while being at the tournament. Maybe she'd like to work on international projects?

That being considered, how would Carly's revelation impact Jack? By the end of canon, Jack decides to pursue a career in the Ride Ace Dueling league because they send him an invite. Instead, have Carly mention that she'd like to do more global work and give Jack a moment to consider what he'd like from their relationship and what he'd like to do going forward. Ultimately, Jack would be the one to apply for the Ride Ace league so that he can participate in global matches and follow Carly. It'd still be in his wheelhouse (i.e., working his way up from the bottom of a new league to be the king again), but more importantly, it'd be a choice that's in support of Carly rather than Jack's typical moves characterized by his own ambition. Not only would that solidify their devotion by the end of the series, but it would reflect a lot of growth on the part of both Carly and Jack: Carly has taken the reins of her own life and learned to accept joy for herself, and Jack has learned to weigh his own dreams and the dreams of others, finding happiness in supporting the people he cares about without sacrificing his own wants and needs.

Anyway, I fear I've gone on for too long. What are your Jack x Carly thoughts? How would you have carried their relationship into later seasons?

Thanks for reading!

#carly nagisa #carly carmine #jack atlas #yugioh 5ds #scoopshipping #yusei fudo #image descriptions are provided #could say more about Incan hummingbird symbolism relating to heaven and self-actualization and how it connects to Carly and Jack #but I've already spent all day writing this oops #also please Shin Yoshida learn how to write women for the love of god

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sungiescheotluv · 7 months ago

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champagne supernova ⭑.ᐟ park jisung

pairing: park jisung x gender neutral reader

word count: 4.2k

tags/warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, emo(ish) jisung, non-idol au.

summary: making friends as an adult is difficult. luckily for you, the rock/alternative online community welcomes you with open arms, one person in particular catching your interest.

notes: hi thereee! 😁 back again with another jisung fic, one that i actually came up with myself lmao. since getting back into the dreamies, i've been a bit surprised by (but absolutely loving) jisung's taste in music. hence this silly fic, which i do hope you enjoy! thank you so much for all your recent support, it makes my heart smile whenever you like or comment on a post! anyways, happy reading! much loveeeee! <3

The concept of internet safety is lost on you. How else could you explain sharing a hotel room with someone you’d never met before in real life?

Perhaps, you should retrace your steps. See how you’ve managed to find yourself in such a dangerous position, the front door locked and your body pinned to the bed.

Making friends as an adult is difficult. On par with counting every grain of rice in a field, you’d say.

You underestimated how easy maintaining friendship was when younger, third places like school, daycares, extra-curricular activities demanding your presence, inadvertently strengthening your social life. Not that you were the most social, you had a hard time approaching people actually, but maybe that was a part of your charm. Bringing you out of your shell, like all your friends did before your bond was cemented in tree trunks or sandy beaches. University is the last place you take this ease for granted, exposed to all different kinds of people and relationships, some platonic and not-so much. Either way, despite the barge of assignments and countless nights out, you’d make it into adulthood relatively unscathed.

Adulthood, however, doesn’t turn out as you expect. You’d been sold a dream, one eight-year old you envisioned dabbling with the stars accompanied by a lavish life and all the ice-cream you could get your hands on. Unfortunately, no star would be rubbing shoulders with you anytime soon and any that would, you’d have to pay a large sum of money to even see. A large sum you did not have. So, yeah. Just that, toxic work culture, endless bills and a whole host of other obligations linger above your head like a grey cloud.

What helps is finding the small joys in life. Slow mornings when the city is asleep, the scent of coffee at the crack of dawn, the sunshine against your skin, friends who despite their busy schedules carve out time to see you. All pieces of your life that make it worth living. Music is in there too, the art of melodies and lyrics strung together having the strange ability to carry you throughout even your worst days.

Your moods refuse to stick to a certain genre and in the midst of dark afternoons and frost covered roads, you find yourself gravitating towards alternative music. Slow, steady and aching. Like how your life moves with the severe lack of sun. It’s not a genre your circle of friends dabble in as much as you do. It’s to be expected, anyone who deviates from a standard of ‘normalcy’ was outcasted, one too many examples found in your high school days where kids got called weird and satanic for wearing a Green Day t-shirt to school. The thought makes you laugh now, but back then, when all that matters is fitting in, it was sad and suffocating. Seeing a part of yourself denied before your very eyes. Sometimes you’d hang out with those kids, bond over your collection of CDs and even go to a few gigs together. However, when Monday came around and they’d approach you and your friends, raving about the concert - you froze. Confronted into either owning yourself and being outcasted like the rest of the emo kids or ignoring them, deny yourself for the sake of social standing.

You pretend like they’ve grown two heads, feigned confusion knitting your eyebrows together while your friends laugh and hurl insults at someone who you considered a friend - a better one than the ones at your side. And yet, you let the laughter continue, a coward with its tail between its legs as you depart, the taste of iron on your tongue.

Maybe this is payback for those poor decisions. A dead-end job, a successful but shitting ex and enough inner turmoil to make a therapist clutch their pearls.

You abandon those friends when you get to university, getting better ones that wouldn’t make someone feel small due to their own insecurities. You make amends with the emo kids, your apology marking the true end of your friendship. You search online spaces for like-minded people, showing up as yourself and being embraced as. Everyone in the Reddit community is unbelievably sweet, sharing their music recommendations, concert wishlists and pictures of their cats. Some members, including yourself, form a closer bond, taking your conversation to a Discord server that becomes your escape in a way. A channel for heartfelt discussion that extends past your love for music. You’re not as active due to work obligations, but whenever you pop up, one member in particular always greets you with a warmth like no other.

Linkin.parkjisung is his user, his icon the rock and roll hand sign over his face. Likes Blur, Green Day, Oasis and of course, Linkin Park. He’s like you, dips in and out, types a few responses before he’s gone again. It’s a scenario where other members grow closer, and your anxiety around speaking in the group begins. They’re already close, it seems almost futile to interrupt, right?

What if you’re ignored? What if you’ve missed your window of opportunity?

It’s a line of thinking that crosses your mind when you send in an apology for being inactive, moments later your phone pinging with a notification.

Linkin.parkjisung: no need to apologize! life gets busy for everyone, myself included. hope you’re doing ok (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

Other group members echo his message, sending in their own real-life obligations that the group ends up bonding over, complaining of rising car insurance and overly demanding bosses.

It’s the start of it all, really. That one message, a hand extended to yours that breaks you out of your shell and kick starts your friendship with Jisung. From that day onwards, you move more freely throughout the server, making good friends with everyone but better friends with Jisung. Somewhere down the line, you end up privately messaging each other. What starts out as simply giving each other music recommendations (since he apparently always loves the songs/artists you send into the server) becomes sneaking into the bathroom during a busy family reunion to call Jisung about how your grandmother wore a catsuit to impress her ex, your grandfather. You grow that close, no details spared on life events. How else is there space for secrecy when you’re video calling drunk, watching festival performances of Fontaines D.C.?

In any case, you’re close. You text everyday and call every week like clockwork, namely because you live some hours away from each other. During your calls, he’s shrouded in a low darkness, self conscious of the way he looks, he says. You’re unconvinced, slivers of his features in photos he sends you with his roommates’ three cats or on call saying otherwise. Regardless, you let it slide because Jisung becomes more than his face - he becomes a source of comfort, someone who makes you laugh as much as brings you calm, someone you slowly can’t imagine your days without. In hindsight, this is where your romantic feelings develop. And with convenient timing too because one of the bands you recommended to Jisung, Wunderhorse are on tour, set to perform in a city two hours from the both of you.

“Tickets are going onsale at 10 am on Thursday,” Jisung murmurs, the clicks of his cursor coming through your laptop speaker. “Remember to set your alarm.”

“Will do. Lemme set a remin-” opening up your calendar, you see an unwelcome surprise. “Fuck.”

“What’s up?” Jisung’s voice echoes with sincere concern.

“I forgot I have a shift that day,” you groan, already knowing by the time your lunch break came, the event would be sold out. “We’re understaffed as is, so there’s no way I can get someone to cover for me.”

A deep hum vibrates from Jisung’s chest, a few more clicks of his cursor sounding before he asks in a small voice. “Well, I could just get the tickets for us both.”

“You would?”

“Yeah, I’m meant to be working from home that day anyways. And not to flex, but my internet’s pretty decent.”

You laugh. “Is that for your job or your crippling gaming addiction?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles back, the sound blooming a warmth of happiness in your chest. “Working in CompSci has its perks.”

“So, I’m finding out,” you smile, an underlying layer of discomfort shifting you against your desk chair. “Are you sure, though?”

“Of course. I’d hate if you lost out on this knowing I could’ve done something to help,” Jisung explains. “You were the one to introduce me to them anyways. Plus we’d have a better chance of sticking together in the pit if we get them together, right?”

You swallow a lump in your throat, something taking flight in your airy chest. “Yeah, you’re right. Just send me your bank details so I can transfer you the day of.”

“Coming right up!” he jokes, and you laugh, however lame he claims himself to be.

On Thursday, he sends you a photo of his solid black high-tech set-up, a PC he’s constructed himself with more monitors than you can count. The side of his face is included in the picture, silky black hair, a brown eye and a beauty mark on his cheekbone you dream of kissing later that night. You find out he secures the tickets on your lunch break, your debt towards him being booking the hotel you’d be staying at. Due to the limited funds you’re working with, you end up getting a shared room, an option that gives him pause before he agrees in a tremored voice. You’re a bit apprehensive yourself, but you booked for two beds, so it should be fine. If worst comes to worst, and something happens between you two – like him turning out to be a sexist neckbeard loser he couldn’t take no for an answer - you’d sleep in your car (or kick him out, actually). At any rate, you had options (and a friend tracking your live location).

In no time, weeks fly by and Wunderhorse drops their latest album. It’s the best thing you’ve experienced since sliced bread, an opinion Jisung shares as you two listen to it over call late one Friday night, speaking about your favourite songs amongst other things. You don’t know how it starts, perhaps it’s a lyric that sticks out to him that he mentions or something else entirely, but suddenly, you’re reminded of high school you. How deeply you wanted to be accepted by others, and how that satisfaction depended on the person you got it from. That you preferred conformity instead of individuality, because being seen with popular shallow kids meant something to you.

“I wasn’t a good person in high school,” you find yourself admitting, your body hollowed out with guilt. Regret like ash on your tongue. “I hurt people because I valued other people’s opinions over my own. I know I was young, but-”

“You said it yourself: you were young,” Jisung comments, the serious intent in his voice catching you off guard. “The fact you recognise your behaviour and feel remorse for it shows how much you’ve grown. I mean, high school can be very unforgiving because nobody really knows who they are or what the fuck they’re doing, so it’s only reasonably to make choices you may regret. What’s important, I think, is how you’ve chosen to move forward,”

“You said it yourself, you’ve apologised to those you hurt. Not many, if any person in your position, would do the same, which shows how much you genuinely care to make things right,” you sniff, vision blurring with tears of relief and sadness. “So, if you ask me, I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself. It’s all a learning curve, you were doing what was best to protect yourself then. And now, you’re a better and kinder person because of it.”

Another time you should’ve known you’d fallen for him. Yet, you remain none the wiser. All the way until concert day, getting off work early that Friday afternoon and making the journey down to the bright city lights of Seoul. Everything twinkles and dazzles, a 180 from your modest living in your hometown. You suppose your excitement for the concert has some role in this too, but considering the lack of vibrancy in your life, you allow yourself to sink your teeth into this. Feel the goosebumps against your skin, the lightness in your limbs and the uptake in your heartbeat.

You check into the hotel first since Jisung has a last-minute team meeting at work, setting yourself up on your side of the cosy room of wooden and white hues. As you slip on your Hello Kitty headband to do skincare, a knock rasps against the door, audible above the sound of your music.

With furrowed eyebrows, you approach the door, revealing a sight that stops your heart in its tracks.

On the other side of the door is who you should’ve expected: Jisung. What you don’t expect, however, is his sharp features, black smooth hair with matching formal clothing to contrast so beautifully with his porcelain skin. The dark, ocean blue contacts he wears with a pretty pink lip tint. Not to mention that beauty mark you’ve been thirsting over for the past few months? Yeah, that’s all in eye-view now, close enough to touch and it’s this fact that sends your brain into overdrive.

While you malfunction, Jisung dips his head, a large fist curled to his lips to hide his sheepish smile. Chuckles in a bit of an awkward and embarrassed way.

Oh my god?!

“Nice to finally meet you,” he greets, black leather overnight bag clutched to his side. A fluffy blue and pink keychain of Little Twin Stars hangs off the zip, a cute juxtaposition to his intimidating outfit. And height. God, he really wasn’t lying when he said he was nearly 6 ft.

“I texted you I’d arrived, but you hadn’t read them,”

A forceful blink out of your trance brings you back to reality, one where you’re not openly drooling over how handsome your internet best friend is. “Yeah, sorry. I was busy getting ready.”

“I figured so,” his eyes scan your clothes - your ripped baggy jeans, leather platform shoes amongst what you have on - and his lips curve, admiration in his eyes. “You look great.”

If there weren’t societal ideals of an inappropriate reaction to that compliment, you would’ve tattooed it to your forehead, or on your lower back. Maybe ripped off your shirt and kissed him before combusting because what do you mean, this very handsome man, thinks you look great?!

“Thank you,” you blush, your body running hot like a furnace. Even so, you decide to take advantage of the situation, leaning in for an embrace that he reciprocates as you mumble into his shoulder. “Nice to finally meet you too.”

The rest of the afternoon blurs, the few moments of scattered glances and awkward silence incomparable with the ease of conversation that flows between you once his favourite song, Poppy, comes on. Catching up to speed with each other’s day as you two get ready, it’s not lost on you how domestic the scene is - how familiar, or right it feels. Jisung, in all aspects of the word, is endearing - flustered by the compliments you send his way, brightening up at the new additions to the setlist and best of you, timid with pink cheeks when he hands over a ‘first meeting’ gift - an assortment of snacks, a Hello Kitty plushie and a card that makes you coo. It takes everything in you not to sink your teeth into him, overwhelmed by the sweetness that laces his actions and words, riding the high he and the music gives you as you make your way to the venue after you’re both finished.

Long lines snake around the arena, grey clouds permeating the area as rainfall clatters to the pavement. Jisung, ever so prepared, brings along an umbrella that you share, squeezing underneath so much you feel the warmth of Jisung through his bare, very defined bicep. How someone looks so good in a silver sequin top under a tattered sleeveless black vest is beyond you. Then again, him being single is beyond your comprehension too. Considering his calm and thoughtful demeanour, coupled with his good looks, you would’ve expected people lining up by the thousands to plead their case. However, whenever you two talked about this, he’d simply say his go-to phrase and change the topic, his phrase being:

“I’ve got my eye on someone. Just working up the courage to ask them out.”

Whoever managed to catch his eye, you’d thought to be lucky. Maybe they’d saved a small village in their past life because as people push when the doors open, Jisung shields you from any damage, reminding you how good of a romantic partner he could be. Especially so when you’re inside and he snaps all your photos, accompanying you to the bar and merch table where you get matching t-shirts before he keeps them with him so you’re free throughout the concert. Dimmed red lights and chatter fill the spacious hall, a flood of warm bodies surrounding you as you peer at the stage, the band all set up and ready to go come showtime. You sing along to the host of songs the venue plays beforehand, enough nudges in the shoulder to get Jisung to sing along and of course - of course - he has a beautiful voice too. At this point, you were convinced he either had a missing toe or had weird opinions about the order of cereal because the more you spent time with him, the more he shines in your eyes.

Eventually, the chatter dies down and all lights go off, screams rising through the crowd as Wunderhorse comes onto the stage. Buzzing at a frequency unheard of, you bounce off the balls of your feet, hand holding Jisung as you exclaim, “It’s them! It’s really them!”

Missing how flushed Jisung becomes at the contact, you sing with all your heart - offkey and all - to their opening song, Midas. The energy is through the roof, a dizzying world of flashing lights and music that retches the lyrics straight out of you. In a moment’s chance, Jisung and you turn to each other mid-song, smiles bright as the stage lights outline your damp faces, chest heaving with a mouthful of lyrics in their wake. It’s the happiest you’ve been, holding his hand like this, and as the night winds to simmer, you sway to slow songs and thank your lucky stars for finding your way back to this.

After the show, you two chatter with other adoring fans before trekking to your nearby hotel, stomachs growling for food. Jisung finds a great Chinese place that delivers until 2 am, a gesture you simper at, unaware he’d even remembered you’d liked the cuisine. At this point, you’re drained in the best possible way, a dull ache in your feet but riding a high of something you’ll remember forever.

Now, you’re all up to speed. Great. Let’s get back to your current dilemma.

Somehow, someway, your unlaced and stubborn platform shoes cause a stumble, one that Jisung tries to save you from but ends up caught in the mix. How, you might ask? Well, you’re not entirely sure but what you definitely know is that you’ve fallen on one of the beds, Jisung’s body caging yours as he braces his own fall. Face-to-face. With you.

Ok.

You’re close enough to share a breath, within reach to see his long lashes and shaky pupils that dart from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes again. Suddenly, the room temperature dials to an unprecedented heat, walls closing in on you two as you lie in waiting. Waiting for the other to make their move. To lean in or pull away, heads or tails on a coin.

His phone rings, cutting through the tension-filled air with a knife. The moment, gone.

“You okay?” he rasps, a knit in his eyebrows as if he’s holding himself back. You blink wordlessly, your answer in an absent nod. “I’ll, uhm…get the food.”

It’s not a suggestion, nothing that you can object to, particularly when he’s long gone and you’re clutching at your chest, months of infatuation knocking the breath out of you.

When Jisung returns minutes later, you’ve turned the TV on, preparing to fill the silence if need be. It proves necessary, only groans of pleasure and compliments to the chef shared between you two as you eat your weight in noodles. Not much is said when you’re getting ready for bed either, brushing your teeth together as if you're a couple and settling into separate beds, all the lights turned off.

Still reeling for the fall, and convinced his shallow breaths allude to his slumber, you’re startled by the call of your name, head turning towards Jisung beside you.

“Yes?”

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks before clearing his throat. “That was…some fall.”

You can say that again.

“I’m ok,” you lie. You’re on high alert, frazzled at every end with a heart you’ve just realised longs for the man not even two metres away from you. “Are you?”

Silence. The only feedback you hear is the crinkle of his duvet as he shuffles in his bed.

“Ask me another question.”

You turn to him, shrouded in darkness. “Like what?”

He doesn’t speak again, lets the silence devour the space between you before he says. “Ask me about the person I’m interested in.”

Water that rivals the arctic pours down your back, a harsh call to reality as you remember. Right, he has someone he’s interested in. Someone who he’ll devout his time to, listen to their music recommendations and hold their hands at concerts. And you? Well, you’ll still be friends, just not as close. Maybe not even friends at all.

The thought closes an iron fist around your heart.

“Why haven’t you asked them out?” is what you manage, because it’s on your mind - what time and place he’ll find himself in when he confesses his feelings.

“Because I’m scared,” he admits, small and in a whisper. “Considering we met online, it’s kind of hard to gauge their interest or read any signs. You don’t give me much to work with,”

You still. “I don’t?’

“I mean, I haven’t been too obvious, but I’m crazy about you,” he confesses. “I love the light in your eyes and the kindness in your heart. You’re so deeply human and live life like it’s your first and last. There’s no one like you and I think the idea of knowing how special you are triggered my fear of rejection. Because what would my life be without watching festival performances drunk with you? What would it be if you didn’t laugh at my lame jokes and didn’t command my every thought?”

Jisung shuffles again, a flicker of dim light in between you two at a lamp source as he stares over at you, wholehearted and vulnerable. “It’d be an empty one - not worth living.”

Slowly, your body brings you upwards, the two of you hanging off the edges of your bed. So close if you’d reach out, your hands would touch.

“When?” you croak, unable to meet his eyes. “When did you…start feeling this way?”

His eyes lower, a slight curve to the corner of his lips. “Around November?”

Electricity zaps your back straight. Five months ago? “When we joined the server?”

“Shortly after that,” he admits, a coy grin breaking out against his flushed features. “I was having a really hard day and you’d recommend a song in the chat, Favourite by Fontaines DC, and said how nostalgic and hopeful it felt to you. I gave it a listen and…it was like a battery in my back. I cried, but I also smiled too because I understood what you meant by it all,”

He threads his fingers together, peering up with shining eyes as he adds, “it felt like a peak into your soul, and mine too….I think that’s where it started.”

Your hand finally reaches out, overlaying his as tears fill your sight. “You know you’re my favourite, right?”

“No one stood a chance after that drunk video of you singing along to Champagne Supernova,” you share a laugh, reminiscing of the video he accidentally sent into the server one December night. A die-hard Oasis fan till the end. “I mean it. There’s no one I’d want to spend my days with, listen to music with and discover all there is to life. No one but you.”

His bottom lip gives a wobble, hands unearthing from yours as his thumb grazes your knuckles, bringing the hand up in a searing kiss. One he looks you right in the eyes for as he says, “Can we push the beds together please?”

You bark out an unexpected laugh, fondness shaping your smile as you speak with all of your heart. “I would love nothing more.”

#nct dream fic #jisung x reader #nct jisung #park jisung #park jisung x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic #park jisung imagines #park jisung fluff #jisung fluff #jisung x you #nct jisung x reader #nct jisung fanfic #sungiescheotluv fics ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱

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annerb-fic · 1 year ago

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If you would but indulge this fandom elder for a few moments, I'd like to point out a few things that I think can make all of our fannish experiences on this hellsite (affectionate) so much more joyful.

Try not to treat yourself or others as "content-providers."

This happens when you allow yourself to be influenced by real or imagined expectations and demands of others. "But I know people want..." "But people would expect me to..." "But they might not like it if I..." "It's been too long since I've written/posted anything..." "What if people get upset if I..." These are the joy killers. The only questions you should ask yourself when posting stuff to tumblr (or not) is "does this bring me joy right now?" and "would this cause harm?" That's it. You can also tag liberally so people can block stuff if they want. That's also a nice thoughtful thing to do. But try not to let the nebulous concept of "people"--your followers, your readers, the internet at large, or whatever--become a bogeyman in your own head. Most of us already have enough internal critics trying to trip us up at any given moment. Try not to invent more.

Treating others as "content-providers" happens if you send asks or comments to someone on this site demanding more content of a specific type, or insinuating that you are entitled to something from that person. You are communicating to that person that they only have value as a content-provider, and only when providing whatever it is you want. This is dehumanizing and ignores the thousands of reasons that person might choose to be here. Tumblr is not a subscription service. No one is paying for anything here. Most people here are just doing stuff that makes them joyful and we are lucky enough that sometimes they share it with us too!

2. Fandom is not a marriage.

The concept of "being in a fandom" is actually incredibly nebulous, as it should be! There is nothing you need to do or declare to be "in a fandom." There is no minimum threshold of love, or time, or interaction, or "production." It's just a feeling. A place. A space that brings joy. (And sometimes, heartbreak, but that's another topic all together.)

Fandom is also not a marriage. You can't cheat on a fandom. You do not have to have formal divorce proceedings and let go of one fandom before messing around with another one. There's no such thing as fandom infidelity. Neither is fandom a job. You don't have to give two weeks' notice. You don't have to post public intent on the town hall. You're not banned once you step out, never to return. You can "take a break" without any moral implications or risk of becoming the focus of a pop culture debate about whether or not you were justified to mess around with another fandom during that time. You can leave a fandom and never go back, all without having to consciously decide to do so. You can fall out of love with a fandom and then fall back in love with it later. It's not a marriage/job! There are no rules!

3. Take ownership and curate your own experience.

If there is a thing, or a blog, or a person who once brought you joy, but on balance no longer does, or makes you more disappointed or annoyed or upset than not, you do not have to keep interacting with them/it. Following someone on tumblr is also not a marriage. You can follow/unfollow as you like, no harm, no foul. It's just curating your personal joy, and I hope we will always wish each other the best with that. If you are scared of "missing out on something," then you will either need to block tags enough to make it enjoyable, or decide unfollowing is worth the risk if it makes you too unhappy to keep following!

The ultimate thing is, it's up to you to curate your fannish experience. It is not up to the person you are following to change to fit your expectations or hopes. (See point #1.) You can feel ways about this, of course! But those are your feelings, which are yours to handle. Do not put them on the other person. Do not send them asks demanding things or lashing out. It won't make you feel better and it definitely won't get you what you are looking for, unless your actual aim is to kill the joy of another person so you are not upset alone. In that case I'm not sure what to tell you other than you might want to spend some time meditating on that one and think about if that's really the kind of person you want to be. Or if this kind of space is actually good for you.

That's it for now. Thank you for indulging me. Don't be a dick on the internet, friends. Take no shit and do no harm. Take care of yourselves! 💕

#fandom #tumblr life

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bluetoes-andstuff · 11 months ago

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A Hidden Desire

Chapter 1 - Curious Fascination

Summary: Caesar rarely has time to reflect, and when he does he always finds himself falling down this same path...

Rating: T (Eventual NSFW)

Word Count: 2.5k

Relationships: Eventual Caesar x Fem!Human Reader

Warnings: mentions animal mating, and sexual themes

Next Chapter

***If you are under 18 I would advise not reading, this is not an explicit chapter but this will be a story that explores nsfw themes later on. Best to just not go down the path to begin with. Be safe***

Caesar sat alone outside his nest, legs hanging over the edge of the porch wrapped around his home. The early morning sun filtered through the canopy of trees below, casting dappled shadows on the floor of the colony, a mosaic of light and dark as his people began to awake. It was in these quiet moments, away from the watchful eyes of his fellow apes, that Caesar allowed himself to ponder his life thus far. And despite his attempts to stray from the thoughts, more often than not lately, his mind was drawn towards the mystery of humanity.

Perhaps it was the absence of humans that had drawn this interest, or maybe it was a slow build of his pent-up, biological desires. Despite the scars of betrayal and the bitter memories of conflict, a stubborn fascination with humans lingered in Caesar's heart. It was a curiosity born not of naivety, but of a deep, unshakable connection to his past. Raised by a human father, Caesar had been nurtured with love and compassion, qualities he had come to cherish and emulate. It's what has contributed to his success as a leader and guide for ape kind.

Caesar knows who he is… he is an ape; he is not human. He is proud of where he is and how far he and his people have come. They’ve established their own community and developed a society. And he has the right to take full responsibility for all of it. Yet, there were still moments when Caesar found himself longing for the simple human experiences he once shared with his father. He missed the quiet evenings spent reading books together, the way his father’s voice would bring the stories to life. He missed the warmth of a home, the smell of fresh cooking, and the classical piano music that would echo through the halls during rainy days. These memories were bittersweet, a reminder of a time when the world, to him, seemed simpler, and the lines between ape and human were not so starkly drawn.

Despite these things he missed, he was still able to look back, smile, and move forward with his day, knowing that this was exactly where he was meant to be. There were other things though, about humanity, that had always drawn upon a certain kind of curiosity, even to this day. A curiosity and fascination that he was never quite able to quench even when he lived with his human family. He had been too young to fully grasp the concept at the time. He was just coming to the age where his body yearned for that understanding and developed interest when everything began to fall apart.

Humans had intriguing courting rituals. The displays of affection he saw between his father and mother were just commonplace when he was growing up with them. He assumed it was normal, but it most definitely was not. His years with his own kind have been enlightening for him. All those things he saw among humans, being through courting, affection, even mating… he assumed he would one day experience that as well, but these rituals were not normal amongst his kind.

He had held onto that desire to understand, know, and feel those same things he had witnessed among not just his parents, but the other humans he had seen on television, in books, and in the videos he had begun to stumble across in his curious search for answers. He’s come to realize that the only way to fully understand those feelings would be to experience it himself… but at this point it was simply out of the question. Humans have been gone for a long time, and he had his people to worry about, he couldn’t get distracted by some human-indoctrinated fantasy. He’s come to accept that.

During their first year in Muir Woods, he had done his fair share of “messing around” as humans would say, trying to find a proper mate to fulfill those human needs he was still clinging to, but there hadn’t been a single one that had been capable of satiating him. They didn’t make the noises like he was hoping, and out of all the ones he’d taken back to his nest, only Cornelia had agreed to lie on her back while he had his way with her, she did not question him like the others had with his odd request… The ordeal had been uncomfortable, and she had squirmed far too much for there to have been any enjoyment. And every time… It was short. By the time he was beginning to feel that urgency and burn in his gut, the females were no longer interested. There was no intimacy or “foreplay” as humans say.

None of it was human like he craved.

It took him some time, but he had to accept that the desires held in his heart were not meant to be fulfilled. It was an unnatural feeling he craved as an ape and he could not jeopardize the apes’ future for his silly human-influenced lust.

So, Caesar married Cornelia more out of the convenience of friendship than love. They were well acquainted with each other, and as the leader, he was expected to take on a mate to produce an heir. Cornelia was strong and kind, qualities that made her a fitting partner in the eyes of the colony. Her frequent respect and loyalty without question to Caesar opened a door for him that brought enough satiation to distract him from his human feelings. She was always willing to appeal to his odd human fantasies even without knowledge of where he got such wild ideas.

Their relationship had been one of mutual respect and understanding. Cornelia had always supported Caesar’s leadership, offering wise counsel and a steady presence. She understood the burdens he carried and stood by him through the many trials they faced. Though their bond was not one of passionate love, it was built on a foundation of trust and shared responsibility.

She bore him twin sons, Blue Eyes and Cornelius. The birth of his sons was a moment of joy, but it was also marked by profound sorrow, as Cornelia did not survive the ordeal. Twins amongst chimpanzees were extremely rare as well as extremely dangerous for the mother. It was a surprise marked with excitement and dread, both parents knowing the cost it may have.

Caesar mourned for her deeply, not just for the loss of a companion, but for the future they might have shared. Her death left a void in his heart, a reminder of the fragility of life and the sacrifices made in the name of survival. Now, with the weight of leadership pressing down on him, Caesar faced the expectation to find another mate. Yet, he had no desire to choose from among the apes in his colony. His heart was not ready to open again, and the memories of his human upbringing made the prospect even more complicated; those feelings and desires that have chased him his entire life resurfacing.

He twisted around to glance inside his hut to see both his sons still fast asleep. They were curled around each other, Cornelius’ head tucked up beneath Blue Eyes' chin. Caesar felt a pang of longing. He wanted to give them the same warmth and security he had known as a child. The legacy of his father, the human who had raised him, loomed large in his mind. A legacy of love and understanding, one that he hoped to pass on to Blue Eyes and Cornelius, even as he navigated the complexities of his own heart.

He doesn’t picture ever being able to bring another female into his life like he did their mother, there being no foundation of attraction or desire, nor a mutual respect like he and Cornelia did. Yet, he knew that for the sake of his sons and his people, he would need to find a way to reconcile his past with the future that lay ahead. Eventually, he will have to find another mate… a Queen like the colony deserves… and a mother like his sons deserve.

Caesar watched the sun continue to rise above the canopy of trees, lost in his never-ending thoughts. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds provided a soothing backdrop to his reflections.

Suddenly, a familiar presence approached from behind, taking a seat beside him. Rocket looks sideways at him with a kind smile, and Caesar returns it, lifting his arm to place it around his friend’s shoulders.

“Thinking about the past again?” Rocket signs.

Caesar nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he turned away to look over the trees once more. Rocket had a way of lightening the mood, even in the heaviest of moments.

“You know, it’s been a couple of winters since Cornelia…” He hesitated, then continued with a teasing grin. “Maybe it’s time you found someone new?”

Caesar’s smile faded slightly. He appreciated Rocket’s concern, but the idea of going through the process of finding another mate felt distant and unappealing. He signed back, his movements deliberate and calm.

“I’m not interested, Rocket.”

Rocket raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. He signed back with exaggerated gestures, trying to coax a different response.

“Come on, there are plenty of females in the colony. Strong, kind, beautiful…” He paused, then added with a gleam in his eye, “And they all admire you.”

Caesar shook his head, his expression serious. He appreciated Rocket’s efforts, but his heart wasn’t in it. He signed slowly, choosing his words carefully.

“I’m well over Cornelia. It’s not about her. I just… don’t feel that way about anyone here.”

Rocket’s playful demeanor shifted to one of concern. He signed back, his movements slower and more thoughtful.

“But why? What’s wrong?”

Caesar hesitated. He knew Rocket wouldn’t understand the full depth of his feelings, the complex mix of his human thoughts and desires, and the expectations of his role as leader. It is not something he thinks he can repress twice over. He signed back, his movements gentle but firm.

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

Rocket looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. He didn’t push further, sensing that this was a boundary Caesar wasn’t ready to cross. Instead, he offered a supportive smile and signed back.

“Alright, my friend. Just know that we’re here for you, no matter what… If you ever have certain needs…. Without wanting a mate, we can work something out.”

Caesar nodded, grateful for Rocket’s understanding, and amused at the irony of his suggestion. As his friend turned to leave, Caesar grunted. His time of reflection has ended, and the quest to begin the day's chores is soon to begin.

Caesar walked into the colony, where the other apes were busy with their daily tasks. The air was filled with the sounds of chatter and activity, indicative of the thriving community they had built. Caesar felt proud as he observed their bustling life. As he navigated through the colony, he received respect and admiration from those he passed. The apes looked up to him not just as their leader, but as a symbol of hope and promise for their future. He paused by the central fire, where Maurice was tending to the flames.

“Caesar, you seem troubled this morning.”

Caesar sighed, sitting down beside Maurice. He had never spoken outright about his ‘problem’, but he had a strong suspicion that Maurice already had a general idea. He had seen the way Caesar had looked at human women, and he had been the one Caesar spoke to about his frustration with ape mating rituals. The orangutan was wise and perceptive, sometimes a bit more so than Caesar would like. But at a time like this, having a friend to speak with about his problem, however discreet it was the way they spoke, it brought on some relief. He signed slowly, his movements reflecting the weight of his thoughts.

“Rocket thinks I should find another mate. He doesn’t understand why I can’t.”

Maurice nodded, his eyes filled with an understanding deeper than another ape would reflect about this issue. He signed back, his gestures calm and reassuring, speaking prudently just as Caesar did.

“It’s not easy to move on from the past. But sometimes you must follow your heart, Caesar, despite how you may think it will look to others.”

Caesar felt a relief wash over him unlike any other he’d felt before. Hearing his dear friend’s indirect approval and understanding helped distinguish the guilt and disgust he’s felt towards himself since coming to the woods.

“Thank you, Maurice. I know I will never be able to act on my feelings, but hearing your words of acceptance brings me relief.”

Maurice smiled, placing a hand on Caesar’s shoulder. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over them. At that moment, Caesar felt a sense of peace. He knew that the journey ahead would be challenging, but he was not alone. This was something he could get past. He has matured very much through the years, he is capable of putting his desires behind him for the sake of his sons and his people.

The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Koba’s scouting party. The group of apes, led by Koba’s most trusted scouts, moved swiftly through the colony. Caesar and Maurice exchanged a glance before rising to meet them.

The lead scout, a burly ape named Grey, signed quickly, his movements sharp and precise.

“Caesar, we found something. A small human camp, not far from here.”

Caesar’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. The presence of humans so close to their territory was a cause for concern. They hadn’t seen humans nearby for several winters now, and who knew what they were up to… He turned to Rocket, who had just joined them, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“Rocket, find Koba. We need to check this out. Gather a small group. We leave immediately.”

Rocket nodded, his playful demeanor replaced by his serious resolve. He signed back.

“Understood. I’ll get the others.”

As Rocket moved to assemble the team, Caesar turned back to Grey.

“Tell me more about this camp. How many humans? What are they doing?”

Grey signed back, his gestures deliberate.

“There are only a few men, one woman. They seem to be setting up a temporary shelter. We didn’t get too close, but it looks like they might be staying for a while.”

Caesar nodded. The presence of humans so close to their territory could mean many things, and he needed to understand their intentions. He turned to Maurice, who had been listening quietly.

“Maurice, keep an eye on the colony while we’re gone. Make sure everyone stays alert.”

Maurice nodded, his expression serious.

“Be careful, Caesar.”

With a final nod, Caesar turned to join Rocket and the others.

Thank you all so much for reading! I have much planned for this story and I hope to keep this inspiration train rolling! You all would be much help to get it to continue, by showing your support. If you would like me to make a tag list just let me know and I can definitely make that happen. I'm very excited to kick start this story!

#caesar pota #planet of the apes #caesar planet of the apes #ape culture #rocket pota #caesar x reader #caesar x human reader #pota fanfic

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queenofallimagines · 11 months ago

Text

Bruce Wayne x Fem reader

Shuffles in nervously 👉🏿👈🏿 hiii

A/N: listen,,, I’ve been writing fic fie the requests and then I was dragged kicking and screaming into Bruce Wayne’s arms. Nothing I love more than a tired depressed Dilf✨ got a lot more things sitting in the drafts because it’s SO good to do a character study on them and Damian is next I think he should have a cool stepmom. Bruce Wayne I can read your mind🗣️

Cw: ambiguous age but not explicable age gap so imagine what you will, the batfam are WEAK to black women but it’s pretty ambiguous in writing, fellow vigilante reader, Bruce is shit at feelings and can’t communicate, Fem reader, Bruce thinks with his dick before his trauma, his kids are nosey as fuck. oh and like mentions of aphrodisiac chemicals used but only once or twice.

Summary: Bruce could only internally groan at his predicament. He wasn’t to say he’s not sure how he got here but he knows exactly how he ended up here. He’s too grown for a one night stand.

Bruce Wayne:

"—told you they stayed the night!"

Bruce wakes to the muffled voices of giggling adolescents. Terrible timing. Dread settles into his gut as his bleary eyes snap open.

Bruce's biggest mistake was bringing you home. Blaming it on the chemicals he and his fellow vigilante crashed into last night would be convenient. But truthfully, both of you consented before those substances burned through your inhibitions, landing you in his king-sized bed, engaging in activities that his hyper-aware mind keeps replaying. Now is not the time to reminisce, not with the voices of his kids echoing outside. He swallows a groan. You'd think he trained all that boyish cheek right out of them, because that is not how one conducts reconnaissance. He'd do the shameful thing and sneak out, but alas, this grand manor belongs to Bruce.

….Maybe he can politely kick you out without incurring Alfred's wrath and enduring hours of lectures on dignity and respect—two things Bruce has little of at the moment. The scent of coffee and toast wafting in from the doorway indicates that Alfred set up a snack cart outside his door—a subtle reminder to behave. Bruce grimaces. Damned Englishmen and their inane concept of manners. Shifting on the bed, he keeps his eyes fixed on your head and not the bare expanse of your skin that he touched. A lot. He left—his dignity won't allow him to call them 'hickeys' because grown men don't do hickeys—various passion marks on your skin.

This time, Bruce can't quite stifle his groan. He's too old for a one-night stand.

"Christ," he grunts quietly, knowing divine intervention won't be coming.

No one said Bruce Wayne ever had a proper love life. Still, he'd take any endless rant from Gordon about Nightwing's countless motor vehicle violations over his children confronting him. At your groan, Bruce's tense shoulders relax slightly. Part of him expected you to be one of those people who woke up ready to take on the world—another reminder of Bruce's age. When you shift, his muscles tense again. Bruce clears his throat, voice gruff. "Morning," he rumbles, before he's tempted to do something less than honorable. The noise, followed by shifting sheets, pulls attention to you stirring. In the soft light, you look soft and relaxed in his bed, like you belong here.

He knows that's a dangerous thought to entertain.

Bruce says and does nothing as your eyes flutter open, blinking blearily and trying to piece together the circumstances of the previous night. He looks at you for a moment, contemplating whether he can get away with offering you money to keep quiet.

“Mmmmorning..”

That yawning stretch is both distracting and endearing. It's unfair. Bruce watches your movements, taking in every detail from the slight dip of your spine to the flutter of eyelashes. It's a sight he'd become intimately acquainted with.

"Sleep well?"

He asks, already knowing the answer. Even if you slept like a log, your body would be sore from being tangled in him all night.

“Mhm.”

If you weren't so drowsy, you'd notice his jaw clench at the sight of the sheets pooling around your hips, exposing your bare chest. Like most things, it's unfairly alluring to Bruce.

"You've got a choice of coffee or orange juice," he says, nodding at the cart a couple steps from the bed. His voice is still gruff.

“Orange juice please.”

Bruce rises from bed, unashamed at his own nakedness. He crosses to the cart, ignoring the faint twinge in his muscles, and pours you a glass of orange juice. A glance back reveals you sitting up against the pillows, wrapped in his sheets like a makeshift toga. He's never seen a more enticing sight in his life. Bruce ignores the impulse to push you back down and take you again.

"Here."

He returns to the bed and offers you the glass.

“Thanks.”

Bruce watches you drink. Another mistake. He can't help imagining how that mouth felt on other places, wrapped around and- Gods. Not the time. He should've given you a robe or something. Those sheets aren't hiding much and your sitting against the pillows has the fabric slipping lower and lower- He clears his throat, trying to rid his mind of dirty thoughts as he sips his coffee.

"You're welcome," he mutters. There's a satisfied, primal part of his soul that preens knowing that you're still in his bed, his sheets draped over you like a claim.

"Did you...have fun last night?"

He cringes almost immediately afterward. Bruce's pillow talk is abysmal.

“what…?”

The events slowly coming back to you, playing behind your eyelids like a movie. A noise of realization leaves your throat as you nod. Under usual circumstances you’d would be embarrassed beyond belief but after having slept so good and still being tired you can’t really find it to care

“oh yeah. I did. ‘t was ‘fuckin amazing.”

Bruce can't help it when his lips curve in response to your praise. You're still in his bed, still wrapped in his sheets, and now telling him he was amazing in bed—damn his ego for being so smug.

"Mm, I'm glad," he hums, taking another sip of coffee. He sets the cup on the bedside table and leans back against the pillows, eyeing you appreciatively.

"Are you... sore anywhere?"

“Nah, just all over.” Bruce can't help the satisfied smirk that crosses his face at your answer. Knowing he left you in a state of boneless bliss has that primal part of him preening again, like a pleased cat.

"Good," he murmurs, a hint of male pride in his voice as he gazes at you. "It... wasn't too much, was it?" Bruce swallows thickly, the urge to touch you growing. The kids are just outside the door. He shouldn't. He won't.

But maybe he can have just a little taste.

“It was, but in all the ways I like it so you’re good.”

Bruce can't stop the quiet groan that rumbles in his throat at your admission. You look a bit like a fallen angel, all debauched hair and sleepy eyes. The sight is almost too much for his self-control, more than you realized. He shifts subtly, adjusting himself under the sheets.

"I suppose that's a good thing, then."

He keeps his tone even, casual, but his gaze is hot and intense as he drinks you in. Bruce's gaze darkens at your answer. If it weren't for the kids and Alfred, he'd be on you in a heartbeat, pressing you into the bed, and leaving marks all over you that claim you as-- His jaw ticks at the possessive thoughts. No. Not the time. Later.

"Good," he repeats, voice gruff. Still, he makes no move to leave the bed. "You... don’t have anywhere to be?"

Bruce already knows the answer. It's a Saturday, after all.

“Aside from the mission last night my schedule is fully clear to my knowledge.”

Bruce nods in understanding, taking another sip of coffee. The image of your previous mission- that you both stumbled into- flashes in his mind: chemicals, a haze of lust, the taste of you on his lips. He pushes the memories aside as his gaze flicks to your exposed shoulder, then back to your face.

"So you can stay for breakfast," he says, keeping his voice steady even as he desperately fights the urge to pull the sheets off you and devour you. "Alfred is making pancakes."

“Mmm, I haven’t spoken to him in a while it will be nice to see his face again.”

Bruce's smile is a subtle, soft thing as you mention Alfred. The older man has served as a sort of parental figure in Bruce's life. Alfred and Bruce are like family, and hearing you mention his name sparks a warm sense of familiarity.

"He'll be happy to see you."

Bruce hesitates for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. "Do you... want to get up?" he asks, his meaning clear: ‘or do you want to stay in bed a bit longer?’

“….Not gunna lie I’d rather stay in bed a little longer. It’s so warm and comfortable the thought of getting up and putting on clothes sounds like torture.”

Bruce gives an almost imperceptible sigh of relief as you speak. Part of him expected you to get up the minute he mentioned getting dressed. But you don't. You didn’t. You want to stay in bed, and you have no idea how happy you just made him. With a smirk, Bruce reaches out, sliding his hand under the sheet, and grabs your hip, pulling you closer. He doesn't miss the way the fabric slides farther down your torso, revealing more tantalizing skin.

"You are very articulate in the morning."

“Mmm I’m like barely awake right now honestly. Less of a filter or any sort of shame.”

Bruce smirks at your admittance. You're clearly still half asleep, your guard down, and more unfiltered than he expected.

"You're normally more stoic, less open," he muses, tracing his fingers lightly over your hip. "I like it. It's refreshing."

His eyes take in every inch of skin visible to him, making a mental note of the various passion marks he left behind. It makes him want to see how far down they go.

“I’m more relaxed now. And in a hell of a good mood.”

Bruce chuckles, the sound deep and rich. His hand continues to explore your skin, mapping every curve and contour with gentle, yet possessive touches. His thumb brushes over a mark on your skin, and his gaze darkens a fraction.

"And whose fault is that?" he muses, his voice a low rumble, the sound more intimate without the Batman modulator.

“Yours obviously. Haven’t felt this sore in a while. didn’t know I needed an attitude adjustment that bad.”

Bruce's smirk spreads into a wolfish smile as you mention your soreness. A sense of pride swells in his chest. Knowing he made you feel so good last night that your entire body aches from it makes that possessive part of him purr.

Bruce's touch wanders to your thigh, his hand trailing higher and higher up your skin, his eyes fixed on yours as he speaks:

"I’d be happy to give you another one."

“Yeah? jeez going to tire me out before it’s even noon? Didn’t really expect that from you, B.”

Bruce’s expression is somewhere between a cocky smile and an affectionate smirk. It's almost like he's challenging you. The way you say his nickname in such a low, sultry tone is driving him insane. He continues stroking your skin, his fingers tracing a path up the inside of your thigh.

"If it gets you moaning and crying my name again," he murmurs, his voice dropping in register, "then I think it’s worth it. Besides..."

Bruce's other hand reaches out, his fingers gently grasping your chin as he looks you in the eye.

"You underestimate me.” he rumbles, his hand still stroking your thigh. "I have excellent stamina."

“Ooh wow just like that huh? Ready to go in the morning again? Can’t even enjoy the next morning soreness before you need to start all over again. I won’t be able to walk downstairs to breakfast if you’re that insatiable….Never expected you to be the frisky type. Aside from the sexual tension breaking in the air last night I never got that vibe from you.”

Bruce laughs lowly in response, his hand still tracing over your skin. The sound vibrates through his chest. When your hair falls into your eyes, he gently moves it out of your face. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, his gaze dark and intense. Your words make him smile, and he leans closer, his thumb brushing over your jaw.

"You're a tease," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "You have no idea how much restraint it's taking me not to flip you over and show you just how frisky I can be..."

“Lord, don’t say that. My insides are getting flashbacks.”

Bruce’s laugh is sultry and almost sinister. Your words only feed his hunger. You’re right in front of him, skin bare and marked by his mouth, and still he can’t touch you the way he wants. The way he craves. He can’t give in. Not now. His lips brush over your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"Mmm,” he purrs, nipping at your pulse point. "I can still taste you. All over my mouth. It's driving me feral."

“Jesus Christ B. You sure those weird chemicals we got hit with aren’t still in effect?.”

Bruce smirks against your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. His hand continues to stroke your skin, his touch like a caress. His voice is low and rough with desire:

"I can promise you, it's all me."

He nips at your earlobe before pulling back, his gaze roaming over your marked body. He wants to add more. Leaving you marked, bruised, sore…

“With you talking like this, it’s a wonder we made it back here last night.”

Bruce releases a low, dark chuckle at your comment. The memory of last night, of stumbling into the manner, shedding clothes and tearing at each other’s skin, flashes in his mind. He doesn’t reply immediately, instead leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses up your neck. His voice is a warm, gruff whisper against your skin:

"It was a close thing, I won't lie."

“It still feels unreal almost, but you’ve got that same look in your eye you did last night. starving. I didn’t think my teasing would make you snap like that not gunna lie.”

Bruce hums against your skin, his lips trailing over your shoulder. The way you tease him is going to be the death of him. The sounds of your chuckles only add fuel to the fire. He can still feel the ghost of your nails digging into his skin, your moans echoing in his ears. He pulls back, eyes dark and glittering as he speaks.

"It took a lot of control, trust me," he says, his voice a low rumble. "If it were up to me, we never would have left that lab."

“Pfft, if it were up to you we’d never leave this bed.”

Bruce chuckles, his hand continuing to roam over your skin. The thought of spending hours, days, in bed with you is incredibly tempting, but he can't. The kids are right outside, and Alfred is waiting in the kitchen. Besides, he has work to do. He sighs, his thumb tracing a lazy circle on your thigh.

"I'd love to stay here forever," he admits, his voice low and rough, “But I'm afraid there are other responsibilities to attend to."

“There usually is-…. There are children behind that door.”

Bruce hears the hushed giggles and whispers on the other side of the door. He knows exactly what’s going on. He can feel the kids’ heartbeats through the wood, like a bat detecting its prey. They’re excited, curious. And they’ve likely been listening for the past hour despite him doing his best to keep his voice low to mask the conversation. Bruce sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly as he acknowledges the reality.

"Yes," he says, his voice dry. He glances at the door, then back to you. “There are kids behind that door.”

“I guess we have to get up then. Wonder if I can actually find all my clothes…”

Bruce’s lips twitch into a smirk at the thought of your clothes. His eyes trail over your naked form, taking in every tantalizing inch, then glance down to the floor. There is a trail of crumpled clothes leading to the bed. No doubt, you’ll have to walk through the minefield of evidence at some point if you want to get dressed. He sighs, sitting up in bed.

"Considering how fast we undressed, I’d say it’s going to be difficult.” He chuckles.

“Yeah I bet.”

Bruce’s eyes rake over your naked form, unabashedly appreciating the view as the sheets fall away. God, you’re beautiful. He has to force himself to look away before he snaps, ripping the sheets off the bed and pinning you back down. His voice is a gruff rumble as he responds.

"No fair," he mutters, reluctantly sitting up on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he tries to reign in his need to touch you all over again.

Chuckling you glance over your shoulder at him as you pick up your costume and start putting some pieces back on.

“Hey,don’t start pouting now. I agreed to stay for breakfast yeah? Can’t get rid of me that easily Bruce.”

His name rolls off your tongue teasingly. It had definitely been a surprise to find out Batman was Bruce Wayne last night but in the haze of trying to rip each others close off the surprise was lost. Even now looking at him like this you can’t help but see Batman and want to tease him. Saying his name felt forbidden in a way,making you want to say it more.

“Anyway, you should get dressed too.”

Bruce's shoulders tense slightly at the sound of his name falling from your lips. Hearing you say it is an odd juxtaposition. At this moment, sitting on his bed, he is Bruce Wayne, but the mention of his name has hints of Batman, Gotham, the mask. He glances over his shoulder at you as you get dressed. Bruce bristles at your teasing tone, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. The way you say his name in that sultry tone makes him want to throw everything aside and drag you back into that bed. But he doesn’t. He stays sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you, his eyes fixed on the floor. He takes a deep breath before responding, his voice low and rough.

"Trust me, the last thing I want is to get rid of you.” he mutters, his jaw clenching. “I’m getting dressed.”

Bruce listens to the sound of clothing rustling, his back still to you. Part of him resents the fact that you’re getting dressed, leaving him here alone. He watches as you put on your clothes, covering up the marks he left on your skin. It sends a primal pulse of possessiveness through him. But he resists the urge to reach out and pull you back into his lap, or at the very least, make sure his mark is still clear on your neck. His jaw clenches as he speaks:

"I’m surprised they haven’t tried to barge in yet.”

“Hah! Even in a drug induced haze of lust I still remembered to lock the door. I wasn’t about to take that chance.”

Bruce huffs out a quiet laugh, a small smile on his lips. You’re as smart as you are beautiful. Locking the door was a wise decision. If you hadn’t, the kids would have been listening to a very different conversation for the past hour. He glances over his shoulder at you, taking in your now clothed form. It seems less appealing now that you’ve covered up the results of their night together.

"Impressive," he rumbles. You had the presence of mind to do that? While his brain was full of nothing but the smell and taste of you? He almost finds it adorable that you think you have such self-control. His lips twitch with a smirk, his voice a low rumble:

"You definitely have more control than I do."

“Once you have a situation happen like that once the anxiety never lets you forget. And doing it inconspicuously while not ruining the mood just was dumb luck on my part.”

Bruce snorts, a chuckle escaping his lips. You’re not wrong. One time was enough to learn that lesson. He knows that from experience. He should be grateful that you’re more reasonable than he is. It’s no wonder things with his previous conquests always ended the way they did. There’s a long, heavy silence as Bruce considers his next words. Instead Bruce sighs, standing up from the bed. He stretches his arms over his head, his bare chest on full display for you. He can feel the marks you left on his skin, stinging slightly in the air. He smirks at the memory of your nails raking down his back. He’s going to have a hard time keeping his hands off you in front of the kids, especially now that he’s had a taste of how good you feel. He groans quietly, running a hand through his messy hair.

“What’s up? I can tell you’re thinking thoughts with that look in your eye. Say whatever it is you’re thinking so hard about.”

Bruce notices your stare, the way your eyes drink in every inch of his exposed flesh. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes linger on his body, appreciating the view. His lips twitch into a smirk, a flash of possessiveness coursing through him. But he’s snapped out of his thoughts as you ask your question. He knows exactly what you’re asking. He looks at you, his gaze intense. He’s thinking of all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he wants to touch you. But instead of saying any of that, he simply responds with a low hum. He should be grateful that you’re more reasonable and straightforward than he is. It’s no wonder things with his previous conquests always ended the way they did. There’s a long, heavy silence as Bruce considers his next words. He finally speaks, his voice a low rumble, his back still to you:

"You… You didn’t expect to see me again after this, did you?”

“Eh? I… don’t know what you mean?? We work together as vigilantes so it would be kinda stupid not to mention difficult to avoid you especially when you could find me anywhere I managed to hide in Gotham. You’re not exactly easy to run from. Even if it was some awkward tension i wouldn’t let that stop me from doing my job. I feel like that’s a dumbass question even for you B.”

Bruce clenches his jaw at your response. He knows you’re right. Working together as vigilantes would make it near impossible to avoid each other, especially in a city like Gotham. And even if you did manage to run, he’d find you. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at you, studying your nonchalant expression. He can’t tell if you’re being oblivious on purpose or if you’re just dense. His eyes searching your face for any hint of… something. What? He doesn’t know. But the way you answer his question with such plain honesty throws him for a loop. Usually, the women he sleeps with would want to forget about him. It was less messy that way. But here you are, talking about the work you do together like a conversation about the weather. Either way, his tone is a little sharper than he intends when he speaks.

“You’re not getting what I’m hinting at.”

“Please elaborate then because I didn’t understand that at all.”

Bruce huffs, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. You’re being intentionally obtuse. It’s pissing him off, yet he can’t stop the surge of jealousy and possessiveness that he feels towards you. You’re still standing there, looking at him like you don’t understand what he’s saying. Part of him wants to grab you and push you against the wall, to make sure you understand his point clearly. But he doesn’t. You’re forcing him to be direct, to be open and explicit, and he doesn’t like feeling this vulnerable. He turns to face you fully, his arms crossing over his chest. His eyes are intense as he looks at you, his voice a low, tense rumble:

“You didn’t expect to still be speaking to me after tonight, at least not for anything other than work-related business. Right?” He lets out a long sigh, struggling to keep his voice even as he tries to make you understand.

He can just barely make out you tensing up in surprise for a second before shifting your weight to the other foot, expression not giving anything away.

‘You resist the urge to grit your teeth or give away any other actions on how you’re really feeling. It’s silent for a second before you exhaustedly roll your eyes.’

“Do we run into each other at all outside of work? I’m not changing my schedule.”

You’re internally sighing at the back of your mind. You’ve know better than to push against his typical self sabotaging nature. If he was going to push you away. You’d let him until he eventually comes back before the guilt of his actions eat him alive. You have seen him do it enough times to the people around him including the justice league and his kids. Mindful not to start an argument with his kids having their ears pressed up against the door probably trying their best to hear despite you both speaking lowly. You respond back in an equally sharp none keeping an air on nonchalance to mask the hurt.

Bruce clenches his jaw, a mix of frustration and jealousy coursing through him. You’re being infuriatingly stubborn, just like usual. He knows he should back down, let it go. But he can’t. Your words are like a barbed wire around his heart, tightening the more you speak. Your nonchalant attitude is irritating the hell out of him but also causing a wave of desire to shoot through him. How badly he wants to reach out and press you against the wall, to make you understand. But he doesn’t. Is it this annoying for others when he close’s himself off?

“No. You’re right, we don’t-“

“So then that answers your question. Wow you sure do overcomplicate everything.”

Your response only pisses him off more. He wants to grab you and shake you, to make you understand the point he’s trying to make. Yet, a part of him is surprised, impressed, and amused by your stubbornness. It’s just like you to take everything he says literally and not get the hint. His eyes narrow, a hint of annoyance and humor in his tone:

“You’re being deliberately obtuse. Don’t play dumb. It’s not a good look.”

“Boy, If you don’t speak plainly and make your point already.”

Bruce scowls back at you, not backing down from your glare. A part of him wants to back down, to avoid a fight. But the more stubborn part of him, the part that wants you to understand, won’t budge. He lets out an annoyed huff, his voice low and intense:

“I meant that, after tonight, I wouldn’t expect to see you again - on a personal level. As in-” He hesitates, struggling to find the right words. “Not just for ‘work related business.’ ”

“Wait you- Jesus Christ you are needlessly confusing and it’s so aggravating. That wasn’t my intentions at all. Like not even a little bit. At what point did you come to this conclusion in your own brain if I never said anything like that? I know your ass can’t read minds so who gave you this information? Because it’s wrong.”

Bruce scowls, his irritation peaking, his body tensing under your glare. His eyes narrow, the sharp edges of his jaw clenching. He’s annoyed by your stubbornness, by your inability to see what he’s trying to say. Your frustration makes his heart ache and his irritation flare. But your question catches him off guard. He doesn’t think before he speaks.

“No one had to give me that information. It’s just logical. How many of your one night stands do you see again afterwards?”

“Do you think you’re the same as them?? because this is a vastly different situation if you haven’t noticed.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow further at your response, his irritation growing. Part of him knows you’re right, that this situation is different. But his doubts and insecurities are flaring up, causing him to be more defensive and closed off than usual.

“It’s still a one-night stand, isn’t it? They usually end up not talking afterwards for a reason.”

“Bruce. This isn’t a regular one night stand. You’re jumping to hella conclusions, because I’m already thinking of the next time I can wake up in your bed.”

Bruce freezes, his body tensing at your words. He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, but also secretly pleased, excited even. He can feel something stirring in his stomach at the thought of you wanting to be in his bed again. He tries to hide it with a scowl, to keep himself under control. But your statement makes him want to grab you, to feel your body against his again. He doesn’t want you to see how much he’s affected by your words, so he grunts gruffly:

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Aawww, don’t go shutting me out now! We just had a lovely night together followed by a soft morning after. Don’t start getting scared of being vulnerable now. I’ve already seen every inch of you nothing left to hide from me, love.”

Bruce huffs in irritation, his scowl deepening. He knows you’re right - you’ve already seen him in his most vulnerable state. His body, his scars, the pain and pleasure he’s felt in your arms. But he can’t shake off the feeling of vulnerability, of baring his soul to you. It’s not something he does lightly.

“I’m not scared, I’m being practical. It’s not healthy to get emotionally attached.”

“Ugh and here you go with that again. Humans aren’t meant to just go through life alone superhero or otherwise. It’s okay to admit you care about people. And too bad I’ve already gotten attached. After my attitude adjustment I’m going to be in the most pleasant mood for the next 5 business days.”

Bruce glares at you, his irritation growing with your nonchalant attitude. He’s frustrated by your stubbornness, your damnable optimism. He wants to push back, to make you understand the danger of getting attached. But your words cause his heart to skip a beat, his chest tighten with emotion. He clenches his jaw, struggling to keep himself in control.

“This isn’t a joke. Relationships don’t work for me. I can’t afford the risk-“

“Blah blah blah. Yeah, I know and I’m not letting your paranoia self sabotage yet again. Go ‘head and schedule me in for 11:30 on Tuesday by the way. You can’t escape me or my affections, not that I was stingy in giving it to you anyway.”

Bruce lets out a frustrated huff, his scowl deepening at your dismissive wave. How easily you just brush off his concerns, ignore his past experiences. He doesn’t want to admit how much he’s tempted to give in to you. To hold you against him, to taste your skin again, to feel your body writhing under his touch.

“It’s not paranoia, it’s experience. It’s logic, practicality. The city need-.”

“The city needs you to get laid. You think people wouldn’t immediately vouch for Batman to get his dick wet?? Like why jinx it? You and your annoyingly exhausting self sabotage destructive tendencies are truly tiring for everyone around you to constantly be the victim of. And then you feel guilt which makes you repeat the cycle all over again. You deserve to be happy too?? Not sure anyone’s told you that before.”

Bruce’s irritation turns to frustration as you list off his flaws. As if he’s not fully aware of his own issues, as if he doesn’t hate himself for them. As if it’s a choice. He clenches his jaw, his body tensing further as you continue your lecture.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know I’m the one that causes problems, that hurts people? You think I’m not living with the guilt every goddamn day?”

“Yeah and it’s making you go through this exhausting cycle. Allow me to at the very least snap you out of that for a while. Normalcy would be good for you….Also me and Alfred have been talking about you needing it for ages now-“

Bruce’s irritation immediately turns to surprise and embarrassment as you mention Alfred. Of course Alfred would be behind this. He can’t help but wonder what you’ve been saying to him and what you’ve been scheming. The thought of you two talking about his personal life causes his heart to skip.

He scowls, his voice frustrated, defensive, and mildly defensive as he crosses his arms over his chest:

“What exactly do you two talk about?”

“You and your shenanigans.”

Bruce lets out a huff, his irritation growing once more. It’s bad enough that you’re pushing his boundaries and questioning his decisions. But the fact you’ve been talking to Alfred about it, that you’re both ganging up on him behind his back, makes him feel outnumbered, vulnerable.

He glares at you, a mix of frustration and vulnerability evident in his voice:

“I do not have ‘shenanigans’.”

“Yes the hell you do. Also do you like dark blue? Or black better?”

Bruce’s scowl deepens at your persistence. He doesn’t like being ganged up on, and now you’re talking about colors? He looks at you, slightly bemused, still frustrated but also curious.

“What does it matter to you what color I prefer? How did that even come up in conversation?”

“Because I’m thinking of what to wear for Tuesday. So what color?”

Bruce’s irritation eases slightly at your question. He’s momentarily thrown off guard by the realization that you’re already planning for the next time you see each other. He looks you up and down, taking in your appearance, his gaze lingering on your curves longer than it should.

“Black.” he grunts out, trying to hide the hint of desire in his voice.

“Got it.”

Bruce swallows, his gaze not leaving your body. He notices the way your curves fit your clothes, the way your muscles move under your skin. He can barely restrain himself from wanting to reach out, pull you close, and feel your body pressed against his again. His voice is low, a hint of desire in it as he speaks:

“Why are you even asking me about colors?”

“Because. I want to wear nice lingerie under my clothes so I figured I’d ask what color before I go choose an outfit myself.”

Bruce’s heart skips a beat, his body tensing at your words. The image of you in black lace under your clothes is almost too much for him to handle. He swallows, trying to keep his composure but almost failing.

He scowls, trying to hold on to his stubborn resistance, his voice gruff and strained:“Why do you care what I think?”

“Huh? Because if I’m going to show up to get fucked stupid I want to at the very least look nice.”

Bruce lets out a huff of frustration, his annoyance returning in full force. He can practically hear the eye roll in your voice. How are you so damn confident and stubborn at the same time? It drives him crazy.

“You always look nice. You don’t need to wear fancy lingerie or anything for me.”

“Yes, but I rarely have a reason to wear them so let me have this and just enjoy it when you see it. And thank you.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, still trying to resist giving in to you. But the image of you in black lace is still stuck in his mind. It’s making it increasingly more difficult to not act on his desire for you.

“Fine. I’ll look forward to it. But don’t get too cocky just because one night together went well.”

“I’m confident the next night will be equally if not more electrifying.”

Bruce lets out a huff, his irritation fading once more. Your confidence and stubbornness are exhausting, but he can’t deny they’re also endearing. He’s starting to question his own resistance to this situation.

“Cocky, aren’t you?” he grumbles softly. His heart is beating too fast for comfort, his thoughts swirling with images of you, bare and writhing under him in lace.

“Absolutely. If you think I can’t feel your eyes burning a hole through clothes from here you’re dead wrong.”

Bruce doesn’t answer immediately. He’s caught, guilty as charged. His gaze has indeed been roaming over your body, taking in every curve, every muscle. He can’t deny he wants you again, badly. Your confidence just makes him want you even more, and it’s driving him crazy. He scowls, pretending to look away as if he wasn’t just mentally stripping you with his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“mhm, let’s go get breakfast. I’m actually hungry now and teasing children will not deter my stomach.”

Bruce grunts, still a little flustered and frustrated with your confidence and stubbornness. But he admits that he’s a little hungry too.

“Fine. We can go to the kitchen. The brats will be there and we’ll have to deal with their stupid comments.”

He stands and starts heading out of his room, with you following behind him.

“And quit calling them children. They’re like 18-26 years olds.”

“And yet they were outside the door giggling and whispering like 7 year olds.”

Yeah, this will be a long morning indeed..

This was the cute version. The other versions is longer and Bruce fucks you like a man possessed😔✊🏿 wasn’t sure if I should post that one or this so here’s a little snippet of that:

“Mkay…. next time leave it in when we go to sleep. Feels ‘snicer that way.”

Jesus Christ-.

Bruce's breath hitches, a low growl slipping past his lips before he can stop it. He forces himself to focus on your sleepy glance, watching you nuzzle into his chest like a content puppy.

He shifts his body, trapping your hips with one muscled thigh, his grip on your hip tightening.

His voice is roughened, filled with desire.

"That an invitation, sweetheart?"

“mhm. You can do it even when I’m asleep I trust you.”

Christ, you're going to be the death of him.

Your sleepy admission to trust him makes his chest ache, a pang of something he refuses to acknowledge hitting him right there. You sound like you mean it, too. Bruce lets a low, strangled moan slip, nuzzling your hair and wrapping his free arm around your middle.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand going even lower, possessive and greedy.

"Can I, right now?"

“Yeah.”

God.

He’s going to start calling you a vixen instead of sweetheart, with those bold little words. Every breath of yours against him feels like a flame to the gunpowder that’s his body. He lets out a hoarse sound, part of him still in disbelief that this is happening.

“You drive me insane,” he grumbles, his low voice filled with unbridled desire. But even after everything, even after a night of letting instincts take over, a night of being completely open and vulnerable with someone, Bruce hesitates.

He needs for you to be sure, for you to want this, even if you’re only half awake.

He keeps his hand on your hip, his other hand gently tilting your chin up so he can look at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Tell me you want this, sweetheart. Tell me you want me.”

“Bruce if you don’t fill me up and stop waking me up from sleeping I’m going to be real irritated.”

His breath hitches. Hard.

Bruce grits his teeth as he growls, feeling the last of his self-control drain away. He can’t hold in his possessive desire anymore, not with you looking up at him, needy for him.

He’s not a good man, he might even be a bad man. But you look at him like he’s your everything, and it drives him over the edge. His grip on your hip tightens, his breath hot against your ear.

“Can’t have you irritated, sweetheart.”

His voice is deep, roughened, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine.

He grabs your leg, slinging it further up against his body. His eyes are dark, nearly feral as he kisses right below your ear, his teeth nipping your skin. His voice is deep, roughened, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart. Gonna make sure you feel good.”

He tightens his grip on your hip, his other hand tilting your chin up. His lips brush your ear as he growls between ragged breaths,

“Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll make you feel good .”

“Bruce’s heart clenches at your sleepy little nod. How did he end up here, this morning, in bed with you, feeling more real than he has in years? He doesn’t know, but he’s not going to question it.

He tightens his grip on your hip, his other hand tilting your chin up. His lips brush your ear as he growls between ragged breaths, “Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll make you feel good.”

Your surrender, even in your sleepy state, makes his chest tight. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this wanted.

He presses his lips against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses across your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

“Good girl. Stay just like that.”

His hands glide and roam across your body, touching and caressing you, wanting to re-familiarize himself with the curves of every inch of you. He’s possessive, a bit rough, even. He needs to remember every inch. He needs to touch you, to make sure you’re real and not a mere dream that’ll disappear the moment he wakes up. His mouth never strays far from your skin, as if starved for the taste of you. He’s almost feverish in his desire, his hands and mouth working to find every sensitive spot that makes your breath hitch and your body arch. He’s hungry, needy, desperate to keep you in his arms, to make everything else fade away besides the feeling of your skin against his.

Feeling a familiar ache in his core he sucks more bruises into your skin. keeping your leg resting where it is he shudders as he reaches down to press into you. an unholy sound crawls out of his throat as his entire body shudders. it feels like his entire body is engulfed in flames and he doesn’t mind burning up. Biting down on his lip hard as he feels you react in your sleep, he distracts himself with kissing your scalp and holding you close. He can’t comprehend how you’re so cute and So sinful hair a mess on his pillows and you dead asleep.

His teeth leave dark marks on your skin, claiming you as his. His fingers dig into your hip, holding you close, anchoring himself to you as the fire burns hot between his legs. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, the sound of your name on his lips like a prayer.

“I can’t… I need…” He doesn’t even finish his sentence. He just moans, low and guttural, his breathing ragged and rough. His teeth leave dark marks on your skin, claiming you as his. His fingers dig into your hip, holding you close, anchoring himself to you as the fire burns hot between his legs. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, the sound of your name on his lips like a prayer.

“You’re so good, sweetheart. So perfect. So goddamn mine, whether you realise it or not.”

He nuzzles your hair, his eyes closed as he relishes the feeling of your warmth against him. He nuzzles your hair, his eyes closed as he relishes the feeling of your warmth against him.

#my writing #x black reader #batman #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batman x batmom #batman x black reader #bruce wayne x black!reader #this is a first of many unfortunately haha the second one is more lust and him #fucking you unconcious than a character study like this was #posts this and runs away

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zalrb · 4 months ago

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Excited to hear your thoughts on when life gives you tangerines

Honestly, it's overwhelming to try and talk about it. I kind of wish I watched it in real time because it would've been easier to articulate my thoughts episode by episode. It is such a beautiful, meticulous drama, it's the type of drama that got me into kdramas, it's the type of show that inspires me to write.

There are so many themes in this drama to choose from: patriarchy, classism, intergenerational cycles, romantic love, familial love, parental relationships, politics, karma, community, education, coming-of-age and the fact that you're in a constant state of coming-of-age, but I think what I'll start with is the exploration of grief.

I found the difference between how Ae-sun mourns her mother and mourns her son to be done so well and I think it's because I initially didn't trust the drama and the drama consistently proved me wrong by including details and dialogue that address the loss of Dong-myeong. Every time I thought that the writing would move on from that death, the way that a lesser show would've, where there would maybe be a casual mention near the end, the drama would bring Dong-myeong back, whether it would be Gwan-sik thinking of his son while he looks at boys who are the age he would've been

or Ae-sun leaving a note for him when they sell their house so he'll know where to go.

And so I was like, yes, Dong-myeong and Gwang-rye both haunt the narrative in mirrored ways; it's not just that Ae-sun grieves her mother verbally

and grieves her son silently, it's how the narrative reflects that in things like how there are flashbacks of her time with her mom

but we hardly ever see flashbacks of her time (or Gwan-sik's time) with her son while both events inform who she is (and they are) on a fundamental level but it would be too painful to have Dong-myeong consciously ever-present, when it was, this was how they were

so she and Gwan-sik move on and so the show moves on except they don't, because how could they really? Their silence about their shared grief is as loud as Ae-sun's bittersweet musings and dreams about her mother.

There is also so much to say about how Ae-sun and Gwan-swik raised Geum-myeong and it's all well-done and interesting, but for me personally, what was the most interesting about their relationship to their daughter was more so how through Ae-sun not being able to bear teaching her daughter how to do house work, how Gwan-sik helped instill in her a sense of self-love and self-respect, how through all of that, there was an examination of gender roles and breaking archaic traditions,

and doing your best to ensure your children don't have to suffer what you have suffered, so like, the larger, existential themes.

When it comes to the interpersonal, Guen-myeong's feelings as a daughter were more intriguing for me, maybe because while I'm not the eldest child, I'm the only child who was raised by a single teenage mother and so I really resonated with how the show explored the concept of guilt and affection and appreciation and resentment and feeling pressure and feeling gratitude and feeling/being at times ungrateful while also feeling/being appreciative, and hating the thoughts in your head while also being aware enough to know, especially the older you get, what they've done to sacrifice for you, which at times, can lead back to feelings of guilt etc.

and how all of those dualities can be wrapped up together in this complex feeling that is ultimately love to your parents.

For me, Ae-Sun and Gwan-sik's relationship to Eun-myeong was a more interesting exploration of who they were as parents than their relationship Guen-myeong and I was so glad we got those episodes to really showcase this because the drama does such a good job in making us fall in love with these characters, especially Ae-sun and Gwan-sik and their love for each other and their love for their children, and they're just wonderful, selfless people and they still get it wrong sometimes. Seeing how they unintentionally dismiss Eun-myeong and also how they directly compare him to Ae-sun

and how every time we kind of see him interact with them, he's getting negative attention. Ae-sun admits to the aunties that he embarrasses her,

but ultimately, we see how as parents, they love their children the same,

how they sacrifice for the two of them the same,

how they worry about the two of them the same -- I could barely breathe when Ae-sun runs to the fishing boat in a full breakdown because she's sick with worry that he'll die at sea

and I think I was interested in seeing their interpersonal dynamic as parents with him more because it was an examination of when you make unintentional mistakes with very profound consequences despite trying your best not to do the very thing you did but your mistakes not taking away from sincerity. Guen-myeong is like an illustration in intentionality and Eun-myeong is an illustration in unintentionality.

I also really enjoyed how they handled Guen-myeong's first love; not necessarily the flash forward where we see him with his mother regretting his choice and not necessarily when we see him see her in a wedding dress but their breakup I think was beautifully done. Like, this broke me

The drama doesn't go out of its way to villainize Yeong-bum

while also unapologetically and objectively showing us why the two of them would never work and how spineless he can be and how he passively contributes to what can be oppressive norms and traditions by having no back bone

and yet it doesn't diminish that they had a genuine love for each other while also not shackling Guen-myeong to the concept of a first love and allowing her to move on and have a fulfilling life with a husband who gets her and understands her and prioritizes her because I loved their relationship and we don't get much screentime with them but they're perfect for each other

So, those are my thoughts off the top of my head! Happy to discuss further.

#when life gives you tangerines #kdrama #park bo gum #iu #wlgyt

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sysmedsaresexist · 7 months ago

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what are your thoughts on the community theory that autism may cause more fictives?

I come to you, anon, a broken man. I am in shambles. My life has been ripped apart.

I just spent a straight hour writing a response. It was a beautiful response, with sources, and pretty colors, and oh, about 2k words.

And it's all gone.

BUT!!! I, Quill, am not one to be discouraged. I'm going to redo this. FROM THE TOP!!!! (and now saving draft every 5 seconds istg-)

TL;DR: I really genuinely love the theory and think it has a lot of merit. However, I also really disagree with how some parts of the community handle this theory, and the stereotypes of autistic systems that come from it.

Alright. Mod Quill here, yes, I am an autistic system, currently a bit itchy inside because I should've been almost done this post and nearly into my latest fixation (don't starve together), and instead I'm rewriting this all and delaying my gratification. I am being so strong and brave right now.

[EDIT, before I actually get started, now that I'm done my ramble: in the following essay, I discuss introjection as a whole, rather than just fictives. I personally only have fictional introjects, but we all absolutely despise the term fictive being used on our system, so we avoided the term.]

Let's start with the fact that introjection is incredibly normal. My GOAT, Piaget, discusses at length how schema develops, and that's based a lot in introjection. Introjection, as a concept, is the idea that we, as people, unconsciously take on the beliefs, personality traits, sometimes even emotions of those around us. This can be for a lot of reasons.

Introjection (Defense Mechanism) was an interesting article I found discussing this idea, especially as it discusses introjection VS internalization, identification, and incorporation. Basically, when y'all try to find good articles online about introjection, those other words are usually fair game as well. This article is largely setting out to define various types of introjection. It describes normal introjection (bringing up Piaget, love that guy, he's my main man as a teacher) and brings up how introjects (i.e. the emotions/traits/beliefs/etc) can be distorted via fantasy. When that happens, it's considered secondary identification, and (she cites Freud here but I am not going digging more for MORE research atm), "Such secondary identification aims to reduce feelings of separation and hostility, and increase feelings of closeness, between the self and the external object, and thus it is regarded as a defense mechanism." So, in basic terms, introjection as a coping mechanism is often meant to reduce separation and increase closeness between an individual and the object of their introjection.

This can be seen very readily in CDDs. For instance, a hypothetical child is seeking more secure attachment with an abusive parental figure; they then form a dissociative part that is literally that abusive parental figure, making that person a part of them. This is a highly pathological defense mechanism.

So where does autism come in? Well... It's a disorder featuring:

A constant feeling of loneliness or ostracization for many individuals (discussed here)

A feeling of requirement for masking or mimicry of others in order to fit in (discussed here)

Diagnostic criteria that clearly show an inability to connect with others, rigid thinking patterns (akin to a fixed-mindset, just musing here), and an inability to maintain healthy relationships.

So... autistic CDD systems would then be individuals with a dissociative disorder, who (due to their autism) often report feeling more disconnected with themselves than their peers, who already rely on imitation as a conscious form of survival in an attempt to achieve closeness...

So you mean to say, Autistic CDD Systems Introject More???? HUH.

It's spelled out right there. It's fairly blatantly obvious. And genuinely, I don't think anyone was really doubting this. I don't think anyone is really out here saying that autistic people don't experience significant dissociation/introjection.

However, there's a lot of people recently shouting to the hilltops that there's no proof that autistic systems experience higher amounts of introject alters. And...

Duh? Obviously? There's already a significant lack of research into introjects in CDD systems. Why on earth would they then skip forward to research into introjects in autistic CDD systems? The medical world isn't going to skip around like that -- particularly, well... because why would they even research this to begin with?

Genuinely, I think that's my frustration with the recent discourse about this topic. There really is no reason, in my eyes, why the medical world should focus on this topic. What benefit would it have for patients? Introjects are simply another form of alter, same as any other. I suppose, potentially, it could lead to more ideas on how to help autistic CDD systems with their introjects in particular, but... is it that much different than just treating autistic CDD systems as a whole?

There's really no reason to be so up in arms about this idea. You're not going to be getting proof that this theorized correlation is actually scientifically valid; that's just not going to be happening anytime soon, unless someone has a really invested interest in autistic CDD introjects.

However...

HOWEVER!!!!!

That also does not mean I necessarily agree that every autistic system is like this. Because, for instance, I am not like this.

If you don't know, hi, I'm Quill, a mixed-origin CDD system featuring 15 parts. The origins aren't really important to this conversation, but we like to use accurate labels. We have 4 introjects, all of whom are fictional in nature. One is very close to source, one is so separated we forget she's an introject, and the other two are somewhere in the middle. And, despite what most people would assume, as I am a level 2 autistic individual as well as a system...

Only one of those introjects is from a hyperfixation of ours -- one that was brief, lasting only about 2 days, and that has never caught me up again -- and she's the one who immediately source separated.

Now, I am someone who struggles with hyperfixations. I scream internally while I autistically click the next 5 hour FNAF marathon when I'm supposed to be grading. I know so much lore. But yet, despite the sheer number -- undertale, MLP, FNAF, Petscop, most recently DST -- I haven't split introjects from any of those fixations.

And, well, that makes sense. Because introjection isn't just about attachment to an object. It's about taking something you need from that object. And it's unconscious in most cases.

(Semantically, I suppose that means that introject isn't really the best term for created parts who are fictional in nature, but I do not care about semantics all that much when it comes to people's self-identified labels in a minority group).

So, in the cases of my introjects:

At a time when we felt incapable, angry, and confused, we split a confident, strong, and (healthily) angry part.

At a time when we felt we were at risk of losing everyone and everything because we couldn't keep them happy, we split a character who found her lost loved ones and kept everyone happy.

At a time when we felt we needed distance from our conflicting emotions, we split someone who canonically has never been conflicted.

At a time when we were in desperate need of love, we split someone we knew would seek that love out without fail.

It wasn't based on our hyperfixations; it was based on our needs.

I think that large swaths of the system community online forgets that CDDs are borne of childhood trauma. Splits in CDD systems are caused by trauma-responses* -- you're stressed out, so your brain puts what you need to handle that stress (such as the memory of the event, the feelings you need to handle it, the personality traits that would be helpful) into a new part. In the case of introjection, a CDD brain is still doing that -- it just relies on a blueprint provided by the world around them. In the cause of autistic systems, I think they find it especially easy to rely on those blueprints.

I mean, autism comes with its own difficulties with personhood, dissociation, and lack of feeling like oneself. There's evidence to indicate that, rather than an autobiographical sense of self based on seamless memories, autistic individuals lean toward a patchwork sense of self. Extend that to CDD systemhood, an inherently dissociative, traumatic experience that comes with memory problems that further prevent autobiographical self memory, and you've got a compelling reason why introjecting whole characters (with themes and narratives that fit the experiences trying to be integrated) might be more common in autistic systems.

And... all of that -- all of the nuance, all of the discussion of trauma and the inherent struggles of being autistic -- somehow has been boiled down repeatedly, on both sides of the argument, to "Autistic systems split more introjects because they hyperfixate."

This idea led to me feeling completely isolated in system communities. I found myself in groups with the following (incredibly limited) views on autism and systemhood:

Introjects are not more common with autism at all, and anyone saying so is spreading misinformation.

Introjects only split due to traumatic experiences, and autistic people experience more trauma than others, so they split more introjects.

Introjects split more frequently in autistic systems due to hyperfixations, so if you're really autistic, you have more introjects.

And... none of these are right. All of them lack nuance, and all of them patently ignore the facts about trauma and how it impacts the brain in CDDs.

Based on the community experiences I've seen, there is a blatant correlation between autism and introjects. To ignore that correlation is to be blind to the community entirely. However, to say the correlation is only due to hyperfixation is to ignore many, many other possible reasons why autistic systems split more introjects -- of which my post only addressed some potential reasons -- and, in doing so, isolates many systems. It also stereotypes autism to hyperfixation, which is only one of the thousands of potential sprinkles on someones autism sundae, and leaves some individuals (such as myself) feeling even further isolated.

(And to suggest that it is because autistic people experience "more trauma" than others is to begin the 2025 Trauma Olypmics, and I refuse to entertain a torch bearer for those particular games.)

I understand where many individuals are coming from when they express frustration over the theory; I've been in that exact position myself, demanding proof of the correlation due to my own isolation from the community. And, with a disorder that already, inherently, feels so isolating already, on top of another disorder with its own share of isolating feelings...

I just desperately hope that people can be open to others experiences. I think it's entirely possible that someone attaches so firmly to a hyperfixation that they split a new part from it. I also think the theory I presented here -- that autistic individuals introject more readily due to a propensity for introjection in part borne of trauma -- is also entirely possible. I think there's thousands of possible explanations, and I think there's thousands of "right answers."

And I also think that none of this matters beyond a simple intellectual curiosity, and coming to understand myself more. I wrote all of this up due to my passion for the subject. I am autistic, and I want to be seen, and heard, and I want people to understand it more. I want people to broaden their perspectives and maybe see someone else's shoes, even if they aren't comfortable wearing them yet.

If another system is like mine, yay! If another system is unlike mine, yay! Regardless, every system is unique -- just like how every representation of autism is unique. And I think we should find beauty in the theories that present themselves, and enjoy the ideas more than the outcomes.

Fun additional reading that came up in the process of my buzzing about this for multiple hours:

Experiencing Self and Others: Contributions From Studies of Autism to The Psychoanalytic Theory of Social Development -> According to a friend (paraphrasing a tiny bit), "the abstract, in my reading, is basically saying that comparing autistic and non-autistic kids can help us understand more about how theory of mind and mental modeling of others can develop, particularly in relevancy to concepts of internalization/introjection." They did read through the whole article (while also warning me to never use scihub) and indicated for me that this really doesn't discuss autism in correlation to introjection, and even seems to suggest that autistic people can't introject (in the non-pathological sense) due to their inability to connect to others. (I genuinely think this is in direct opposition to the first study I mentioned, about how introjection is a defense mechanism, especially as autistic people experience significant amounts of trauma due to their disorder anyways.)

Making the thought thinkable: On introjection and projection -> Can only access the first page, which discusses a bit about echlalia and inner worlds. However, the title makes me curious about what this could offer in terms of the Autistic System Introjects Debate(tm). I want to go digging a bit more to see if I can get around the paywalls on this. This is a complete wild card to me.

Whose memories are they and where do they go? Problems surrounding internalization in children on the autistic spectrum -> A very interesting article that came up while my friend was reading the Experiencing Self article. Again, I cannot access anything but the abstract myself (fucking pAYWALLS) but it's promising. Here's a quote: "The author suggests that, instead of internalizing shared experiences leading to growth, children with autism can feel that they add to themselves by taking over the qualities of others through the ‘annexation’ of physical properties that leads to a damaged object and can trigger a particular sort of negative therapeutic reaction." (Emphasis mine) Friend suggests full article is a goldmine. I'll leave that for you all to go digging for, if you'd like to know more.

(*Footnote: I mean splitting in the most basic, CDD medical understanding of the disorder way possible. Obviously, as a mixed-origin system, I understand there's more than one way to split a part than simply through traumatic/stressful experiences.)

#autism #did #dissociative identity disorder #complex dissociative disorder #cdd #actually autistic #actually did #Mod Quill #I have now spent 3 straight hours on this post

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effypcfcwrites · 23 days ago

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K-Pop Demon Hunters

Full disclosure, as someone who grew up enjoying hip-hop and rock music, I never thought of myself as a devout fan of K-pop. I've never gotten around to following the music, the artists, and the fan culture around it. Although, in the spirit of keeping an open mind as I got older, I've dabbled in the genre more than once and have found favorites to add to even my skateboarding and workout playlists to listen to regularly. The moment I saw the trailer, I thought to myself, "such a B-movie sounding title," skeptical, but curious. Then I noticed a lot more of my friends singing its praises on social media, so the curiosity grew even more, until I finally gathered the spoons to give it a spin.

From the studio that brought us Mitchells vs. The Machines and Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, co-directed by Maggie Kang and Chris Appelhans, K-Pop Demon Hunters tells the story of HUNTR/X, a fictional K-pop girl group consisting of lead singer Rumi, vocalist/lead dancer Mira, and vocalist/rapper Zoey, who come from a long line of generational demon hunters tasked with keeping the Honmoon – a spirit barrier between earth and the demon realm – active. They soon encounter and develop a rivalry with the Saja Boys, a K-pop boy group consisting of demons in disguise, led by Jinu Saja, which leads them to find a way to defeat them, preventing them from consuming the souls of their fanbase and destroying the Honmoon.

I was pleasantly surprised by this surprise release on Netflix, and I just knew this was something that demanded my full attention. The opening moments of the film were a perfect preview of what these girls are all about: slaying demons while serving vibrant and energetic song-and-dance numbers, and just allowing themselves to be regular adults behind the scenes. It draws its humor and melodrama from various K-Drama and Anime tropes, and I can't help but think of Totally Spies, Sailor Moon, Turning Red, and Jentry Chau vs. The Underworld as the story and animation unfolds. Part of the conflict stems from Rumi's heritage as a human-demon hybrid, which leads her to gradually sympathize with Saja Boy Jinu, while keeping her demon half a secret from Mira and Zoey as the trio prepare a performance to reinforce the Honmoon for another 10 years. The film provides a good look at K-pop fandom culture and how at times it can get rigorous and demanding, and I appreciate how it does not shy away from the fact that performers like HUNTR/X realistically need plenty of nutritious food and rest to meet the physical demands of their routines for 2 or more hours each night. (As an aside, Korean cuisine has become one of my personal favorites because of how balanced its use of ingredients is, all while being delicious and appetizing in its own way.)

Thematically, it discusses ideas and concepts like heritage, self-love, and self-acceptance, in a manner that kids can easily digest and adults can enjoy and appreciate. Its message of embracing your imperfections and making something beautiful out of them, and that love and positive connection, maintaining healthy interpersonal relationships with one another, are what keep the darkness from creeping into your soul, is clear as day; well-worked into the film with an emotional climax and song to boot.

I need to mention how I can't help but think it similar to Sinners in concept: the idea that music can be a powerful force to uplift communities and bring them together, but at the same time, its potential for being something that people with cruel intentions can appropriate and use to take advantage of others to serve their selfish means.

Like every eventual classic, it is not without its weak points. Rumi and Jinu's arcs were emphasized so much more as to develop romantic tension between them, gradually moving Mira and Zoey to the back. Yes, the former two have great chemistry together, but it would have been better if their backgrounds and relationships with each other were fleshed out even more. Also, the ideas of reclaiming one’s voice and identity may have been rushed, especially near the end of the film. Perhaps they intended this to leave us wanting more, in case the studio greenlights a sequel or spin-off in the future.

The music was one of the film's selling points. A lot of its tracks borrow sounds and energies from 3rd-generation K-pop acts like BLACKPINK and BTS, even having TWICE featured on the soundtrack. I also can't help but detect a Rina Sawayama vibe to climactic pop-ballad "What It Sounds Like", but that's just me, I guess. A lot of its lyrics are written in English with sparse Korean lyrics, which slightly defeats the purpose of featuring a K-pop soundtrack, but that's understandable, a necessity to draw in audiences who are alien to the genre. I love how scenes are synced so well with the music, reminding me of the kinetics of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Guardians of The Galaxy, and Baby Driver. Admittedly, I have now found myself repeating the line “fit check for my napalm era” to myself and humming the melodies from “Soda Pop” and “Golden” at random points during the day.

Even with its flaws, which don't take away from its good parts, K-Pop Demon Hunters was a great, wholesome, heartfelt watch in its own right, and I appreciated it for what it is: a warmly-welcome breath of fresh air in a stream full of recycled properties milked until bone-dry. It's not perfect, but it doesn't have to be.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #kdh #huntrix #rumi kpdh #saja boys #rujinu #mira kpdh #zoey kpdh #huntrx #k pop demon hunters

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through-starless-skies · 2 months ago

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🌟 THANK YOU FOR FOLLOWING THE BLINDING SCRIPT FOR ONE YEAR ‼️‼️ 🌟

As of the early morning of June 4th of 2025, it has been exactly a year since I first conceived the idea of this AU, courtesy of u/KuroNeko_San's artwork of an emo/villain Siffrin giving me the inspiration - see here;

https://www.reddit.com/r/InStarsAndTime/comments/1d7u6el/emovillain_siffrin_3/

I've technically had the thought for even longer, though it is with that post that the concept solidified fully.

This fanfic remains one of my proudest achievements online - even with my anxiety at the time probably rushing it some, I am so proud of how it's turned out and the impact it's made on the community. It was through this story that I've made some awesome friends, got some amazing fanart, and even learned many things about myself throughout this year, and I regret none of it at all.

See this message almost like Squibbin to the party - this wild goose chase through Dormont would never have been possible without you people. I truly am happy to have had this amazing opportunity to entertain you guys - and mayyybe annoy others >w0 /fond - with my sopping wet cat. I look back to see everyone's comments, bookmarks and so on day after day and it always brings a smile to my face, knowing someone out there loves my lil miscreation as much as I do. Special thanks to the following!

* @kuro-is-doodlin for giving me the very inspiration of this story. Your Villainfrin looks spectacular to this day and I absolutely want to see more of em! You are a very talented person and seeing your art is always a delight. This entire journey I credit entirely to you, for letting it begin at all. <3

* The ENTIRE Vengeful Conga Line AU server (which is not on Tumblr but art of it is here) for being the sweetest friend squad I've ever had in YEARS. I may be a tad goofy to get with but rest assured I appreciate every single moment we've had together, even the violent psychiatric evaluations you ran on me!!! (/vsilly) You guys have helped me learn so much about not only Squib, but also myself - and that newfound awareness has helped me tremendously along my day to day life, and has given me a step forward to take, in aiding myself in the future. Love all of you! <3

* My best friend who I will not ping for their anonymity, unless they wish to come forward also. Watching you liveblog my story was absolutely wild and awesome, and to this day I still think about your comments on it. I'm beyond floored that you said this was one of the best fics you've seen - that is amazing to me and means so much to hear. I am so happy this fanfic turned out so well and I am doubly happy that you love seeing how badly I've massacred your fella. Truly!!! /fond <3

You will 100% see more content in the future, I got the jingly jangly bouncing in my headspace even now, and hopefully will continue for even more years!!Thank you all for everything, and as always, there's always room for you on MY stage. :3 hehehehehehe!

#through starless skies au #through starless skies #follow the blinding script au #in stars and time #squibbin #tss au #isat au #in stars and time siffrin #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #anniversary #ftbs au #villain siffrin au #villain au #tss author's art

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vasito-de-leche · 3 months ago

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hi! i love your work! i live for your forget me not stuff. i was wondering if you could write relationship hcs for diggers? if it's not too much trouble.

;R1999 DIGGERS - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Diggers in a romantic relationship.

cracks knuckles. I'm a bit rusty so bear with me while I get the braincell juice going. as a disclaimer, we dont have the transcript of his anecdote and 1.1 was sooo long ago so my memory is blurry and I'm mostly going by his info as a playable character

Whereas some characters may struggle exploring their identity, let alone deviate from a conventional and traditional relationship, Diggers is absolutely not one of them.

Because of the countercultures he's related to and his overall character, he strikes me as the type of person who has a close relationship with the concept of love--in all of its forms, regardless of any labels. His artistic eye allows him to find beauty anywhere he looks, no matter how hidden it may be, and thus has an easier time bonding with people even if those interactions may be one-sided. With his open mind, I think he would also have a lot of experience with relationships and dating overall, contrary to popular belief; polycules, unlabeled relationships, open relationships, QPRs, you name it.

If his enthusiasm when advocating for a better world that focuses on the arts and connecting with each other is anything to go by, then one can also expect Diggers to give his all when it comes to much more personal matters, such as his potential partners. I wouldn't say he's actively looking for a relationship, more so that these just tend to naturally happen and he simply goes with the flow.

Of course, there's another layer of Diggers that is often overlooked in favour of his role as comedic relief within 1.1 Theft of the Rimet Cup--he is very insistent and enthusiastic with his beliefs of utopia, but he isn't oblivious to reality by any means. When inspecting his character, it becomes clear that this passion is an active choice he makes despite the futility of his actions, or rather, the lack of support his ideas receive and the lack of impact he makes on the world. I feel like this perseverance works as a double-edged sword, being a strength of his as well as a weakness.

On one hand, Diggers would be a great partner who gives his all and beyond to make things work, able to adapt to those around him and notice the little details. On the other hand this can result in him becoming blindsided, stubbornly delusional in his pursuit of a happy ending for everyone. It's certainly a tricky balance, a quirk that certainly doesn't appeal to everyone.

On the subject of Diggers and long-time committment.

As stated before, it's easy for Diggers to be attracted to the beauty within people around him. This, along with his open mind, experience and his passion as an artist might lead people to think he's the type to rush head first into a relationship, and dream about staying with his partner forever, but I like to think it's just the opposite!

With how much thought he gives to community and connection, Diggers understands that love takes time and active effort, a solid foundation with mutual understanding from all parties involved. He's always down to meet new people and see what happens, and even has a romantic streak--meet cutes, soulmates, the idea of fate bringing people together, or even defying fate itself to be together, you name it--but he never expects nor demands a relationship, let alone one that should last forever.

Part of me likes to attribute this to Diggers being so used to losing, the subtle sense of loneliness that seems to follow him as a character who can never earn the spotlight, let alone be remembered. So when he does get noticed, when he does find someone who is willing to commit to a relationship with him, or who brings out the best in him, he's aware of the efforts, the risks and the fact that things are meant to change; he'd rather let go, ending things amicably and part ways than hinder his or his partner's growth.

I feel it works for his character, to have this oddly mature and solid grasp on life and its twists, especially when it comes to people. He's definitely someone who priotizes the journey rather the destination!

If you want to fly, then go and fly! Who is he to keep you trapped in the same spot? Who says you two can't meet again in the future and pick up the relationship where you left it off?

This isn't to say that he can go through a break-up unscathed; Diggers will cry, either on the spot or in the privacy of his van, he's so full of emotion it's impossible for him to not whimper. It's always a memorable sight whenever Diggers starts crying and wailing while encouraging you to live your life and thanking you for the good memories.

On the subject of Diggers and how he acts in a relationship.

I feel like not a lot would change, since his relationships are born from friendship and honest commitment--he's already close friends with whoever he's dating!

Things that come to mind are perhaps the fact that Diggers trusts you wholeheartedly, and thus you're privy to all of his stunts and plans to vandalize the town as a way to protest and spread his message of utopia. You're his partner in crime, literally, the one he seeks out to make sure his plans are sound and doable. And he might whine and pout and argue his case whenever you point out how ridiculous his ideas might be, but most of the time, he listens to your advice. Most of the time. Diggers is still reckless daredevil, but you can bet that you will be the first person he goes to should he get injured or caught.

You will also hear a lot of his more melacholic and contemplative thoughts; it's no secret that Diggers feels very strongly about peace and the consequences of war, thinking about the philosophy of a simpler life and what not. But at times, the world does get to him, and he'd enjoy hearing your thoughts on the matter, regardless of your stance and own opinions, as a way to ground himself.

If you opt to comfort him, then get ready for his more clingy and needy side. This is when he will show absolutely ZERO shame, asking you to hold him for hours on end while he cries or complains about the state of the world and how unappreciated he feels.

I like to think that this doesn't happen on reverse, though; Diggers is proactive when it comes to the affairs of others, especially those he cares about, so he might come across as insensitive or a bit dense when you go to him for comfort and his first instinct is to take you outside to revolutionize the world and find solutions to whatever is bothering you.

But it's as easy as being clear and vocal about what you want! Just like him!

If it's difficult for you, he would encourage you to write instead, or find any other way to communicate your thoughts, no matter what they are. I feel like Diggers is the type of boyfriend who can never make his partner feel unseen or unheard, it might be overwhelming at times with his impulsiveness (especially if the Muse calls for it), but he definitely doesn't want you to end up like him, struggling for attention.

Round of cute things I can't fit in a cohesive bullet point.

Speaking of arts and the muses, you will inevitably end up becoming the subject of his many, many works of art. And you will get an endless stream of sculptures, paintings, poems and other gifts in whatever art medium from him. And you better smile and nod, because the second Diggers notices the slightest bit of hesitation, he will assume he's fucked up somewhere along the way and he needs to create something bigger and better, something more meaningful for you.

Considering how spontaneous Diggers is, I think he would be the type to take you on a roadtrip unprompted, just you and him against the world to sightsee and free yourselves from the big city. Be warned: a lot of things WILL go wrong.

Oh, he would love to have you play with his hair and teach you how to braid flowers into it, he thinks it's super relaxing and will mope around if it gets ruined by the wind or the rain. You can probably tell Diggers is around just by the flower petals he keeps shedding around the house.

His favorite thing to do on a date is to lay by the grass on a summer day and look at the clouds together, simple and easy. Hell, even if it rains, he will insist that you to soak together for a while and enjoy a little splash--Diggers will get sick, and he will be insufferable when he does, but if he got you to laugh and forget about the horrors of capitalism for a moment, then it was worth it.

I really love the headcanon that Diggers has a very low pain tolerance threshold, so getting his current tattoos were a huge pain and he won't get any others, not even something meaningful related to you. BUT! He can have something better, he can have you doodle on his arm with a marker or a pen--that way it's much more intimate, because it's a direct gift from you that can always change. It brightens his day whenever he catches a glimpse of these doodles, even if all you do is write silly things for him.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 headcanons #reverse 1999 diggers #ive forgotten what ive written in this blog so no clue if im repeating stuff ???

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zengguos · 5 months ago

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lottie rambles featuring shauna dynamic talk (made before season 3 episode 6 so my interpretations may change! also I believe the wilderness as a deity is purely psychological created by lottie so I will be talking about it like that).

do you ever think about how lottie was always told in life that all she is, is selfish, dangerous and hurts people? to the point she tried to be helpful and understand people all her life, projecting the way she wished she had that support system, was understood and listened to. she tried to be selfless by taking and sharing others pain with herself (even if it was enabling dangerous ideology like the deconstruction of reality, objectivity and subjectivity post-crash — carrying that on into the adult timeline with the people in her commune).

(she was doing this, having a need to be there, trying to help out way before the wilderness too — being first member to try and comfort allie, having her say in the freezing her out talk & shifting tai's aggression from shauna onto herself during the pit fight. these are core fundamental traits of hers we are introduced to in the pilot, to be involved, righteous and caring).

yet, post-crash, into her adulthood you can understand both sides — the selfishness & the selflessness. that is what lottie's character encapsulates, she is both of many contrasting emotions, thoughts, feelings, descriptions. showing you cannot be one or the other even if they are paradoxical concepts. you can't be black or white going through life, you're bound to always be grey...

the wilderness just broke those insecurities and desires she had internalised about herself free into the forefront, enhanced by her psychosis and fragmented identity/sense of worth leading to the creation of this prophet role. the desire to be someone people can rely on instead of being a liability, someone that can bring people together instead of break them apart, someone to bring some guidance instead of uncertainty, someone that is seen and has to be listened to instead of pushed to the side. to bring love, protection, security, sense and clarity of the madness (things she wanted deep down).

this event transformed the negativity surrounding her schizophrenia as she no longer had those external stressors and pressures. as all throughout her childhood she had been silenced, ignored, shamed and blamed for who she is by the people around her, by her environment. it was drilled into her so much that she also came to hate and deny herself (it even still effects her into adulthood too).

that when her hallucinations were acknowledged and called a "gift" by laura lee — someone who was part of the only place she had ever felt some semblance of security and love in — it had made such a huge impact on lottie's life. taking those words to heart (for many years) as she tried to make it one, a literal gift. however, this would soon be harming as much it was euphoric. as her need for support, love and acceptance for who she is got distorted with the association to faith as she developed the role of the prophet...

it didn't help that her deluded reality with the self created threat (and her denial coping mechanism) of the wilderness soon became shared by the group, that her thoughts and beliefs became based in actuality making it harder to be challenged. the wilderness becoming more of a threat through her as she mystified it, unconsciously controlling its narrative, causing lottie to be a victim and a instigator.

which spirals her into desperation (showcased through her tendency to self harm) and frustration based in anger (as a teenager) in the periods were she could no longer connect to the wilderness and make sense of her situation and her actions through it, or when the rituals are not fulfilled correctly and belief of the wilderness is shaken by others.

this erratic behaviour is further facilitated through the position and power the group has given her. at first she didn't understand, but her impressionable mind twists their perception of her into it making sense in her own reality. especially with the skewed association she has with love, faith and devotion — she sees her "gift" through being their prophet as the bridging connection to get what she deeply wants and she clings onto that (even if it is harmful) by maintaining the need for the wilderness. she wants to keep that feeling of importance with them. not to be forgotten, abandoned and turned on like in her pre-crash life. she wants to fulfil those expectations for others now, unlike she couldn't pre-crash from the people around her, but just like pre-crash they're impossible. yet in the wilderness the impossible seems possible — everything from the old society they knew is deconstructed and reformulated in this brand new civilization here in the woods.

she does want to help and protect them, but in her own way that uses the wilderness as an unconscious external source for that gripe of power and acceptance within the group hierarchy she is still after deep down (although, currently she doesn't explicitly have the leadership role right now like before, she does have majority infulence and the power to change the leader of the group still — which that is interesting to her dynamic within the group and herself — hopefully we will see more of that unspoken imbalance show itself).

however, misty saying that she could possibly angry that the wilderness didn't want her to be the leader anymore and her delayed reaction is a very interesting moment showing her psyche. her slow responses, expression shift and eye movements. she is upset because the wilderness gives her a voice she felt she didn't have, a purpose, importance, to become part of her identity and not having that leaves her insecure and vulnerable again.

lottie has shown she can be selfish, pressuring, aggressive and manipulative here within the guise of selflessness and protection too. especially during this time in early season three by trying to force other characters like travis and akilah into channelling their connections to the wilderness for her own needs which is different to the needs of the others that use her visions/connection with the wilderness. she targets that emotional fragility of others for her own gain as well shown how she pressures akilah into going back into the caves and how she'll use the bonds the others have each other to her advantage (despite their trust in herself). for example akilah's trust in travis, she stopped travis from going in straight away even though he promised that he'd go get her as soon as the rope stopped. we can see how good her observation and intuitive skills are, how they can be a comfort AND a manipulation too depending how people perceive and respond to her words of advice (these traits in particular carries on into her adulthood too).

again, she does genuinely want to help, she does have good intentions at heart, but it's how they are performed and executed which places lottie in a complex dilemma, making us the audience question is this behaviour/action truly for the greater good and benefit of the group as a whole? or is this individualistic ego talking.

then you see that anger she had when she was younger transition into desperation and frustration based in sadness when she is an adult experiencing the wilderness once more.

she has heavily educated herself on this, she's experienced this slip so many times, she know the signs, she know the exhaustion that comes with this on-going battle of self yet... she can't stop it no matter what... it's even more tragic as she falls back into it. being aware, but unaware at the same time.

(I just want to point out how fucking fantastic simone is here in this scene with the bees, showcasing lottie's restraint erratic-ness, but not in an aggressive frantic manner like teenage lottie is seen a lot in with courtney's amazing performance. I really love this scene).

now the mask she had created for herself in her adulthood is broken again as she battles her self identity once more. she sees the antler queen telling that this life she is living in now is self-repression, that this is not her true self, that she was free in the woods. which in a way it is true...

in a state where she was heavily traumatised to the point of mutism when we see her in the rescue scene, she went back to a life where her agency was removed and her voice she found fully ignored, her wilderness identity full crumbled as it was a life once again full of denial, neglect and abuse when she was rescued. her parents put her through shock therapy, heavily medicated and sedated her, sent her away to another country, stripped her from any sort of connections she had with the other survivors, the people who she loved. you can only assume how horrible the reports on her would have been in the media, how she must have been seen, how her story must have ran around, the narrative of her life once again out of her control. it was like it never happened, yet it did, she had all these experiences and was still deemed crazy before and after this event. she was the only one to receive that treatment, that pressure with no support system. she was back with everything she hated. but, she was not that person anymore, she was made in the wilderness. she had more freedom and control in the wilderness setting despite it being horrific and life threatening which says a lot. especially with how it left her when she got rescued.

she had to find a way to get that feeling of self again. being able to sympathise with others expriencing the similar troubles as her as shown in that hospital scene, having them rely on her she falls back into the closet thing to that moment — fully immersing herself in the journey of healing.

but, it's tragically ironic.

she falls back into that pattern she knew that kept her stable, secure and loved even if it is harmful to herself and others that facilitate this balance and power dynamic for her. the association of a cult, centered around things they did out there, still partaking in her self harm habits, overlooking a wilderness, overlooking a lake... she never got over it, she never escaped it, she would and could never deny it the way the others were able to. she kept the cards... she kept the necklace... she kept re-opening those wounds... she kept hold of everything physically and internally for years while everyone tried to move on and construct a disconnected life.

a luxury she could not have.

then a chain of unfortunate events all occur at once where it just seems too good to be true, setting her off again. to have nat come in — after being saved by lottie after a failed attempt — and say she is insane, to say that all she does whenever she tries to help is hurt people.

to literally see it in front of her again with travis dying that she could have stopped it (but it was not fully her fault, if going by her events, that he called her thinking she would have the answers, when the idea of the darkness returning was placed into his paranoid mind while under the infulence, re-triggering lottie too with such a traumatic event).

the guilt of laura lee's death coming back that she could have stopped (she mistook that traumatic stress inducded hallucination as a sign of the darkness and the vision of laura lee being this harmful monster this time may be caused by the after effects of the shock therapy due to its associations).

with everyone else arriving from the past she regresses further and that isn't her fault, but the hunt on shauna she could have stopped that and misty telling her the death of nat is much on her hands too, another thing she could have stopped from happening (yet, they were all equally guilty for falling back into that and allowing it to happen with their collective paranoia).

somehow, she's the only one that is consistently punished for it despite others involvement of these events. and unfortunately this perception the characters have about her being selfish, dangerous and harmful post-crash was constantly reaffirmed within these narratives that she had faux power in, as this falsely sanctified image. when realistically, she was powerless in these events just like everyone else, yet she is still blamed for every part of it, fully... even by herself (her self harm, destruction and guilt coming back).

and we see that's one ways they survived — just as quick as they are to rely on her when good things happen and they need support, they are just as quick to put the blame onto her without thinking how that would still impact her to this day. thinking she's too "crazy" to process it and understand the weight of her actions... which is so wrong. it always stays with her deeply in her mind — "how much do you guys remember."

and how can she not forget.

they (misty voiced it) blamed her for the necessity of all the hunts to begin with too after shauna's beating. all these deaths were technically on her hands despite her having no control over it, never wanting it yet... she comes to accept it.

her defense mechanism being the wilderness... in her mind, in this moment where they hug her, physically hold her and affirm they are glad and happy that she is okay and still alive — I feel it is the moment the hunts soon enters the conception of the wilderness. to make the killings make sense and denounce their whole responsibility over it. protecting them again and allowing them to blame her. it's a selfish and selfless moment. the love she receives contrasting with the horrors committed, she now fully takes on both. she tells herself she needs to do that subconsciously. even as she denounces her leadership, she's already taken a more serious and deeper role within the group.

that's why, years later, she once again takes it into her hands as a felt responsibility to restart the hunts as she attempts to control the situation the only way she knows how, thrown back into that survival mindset, despite not needing to.

it's tragic to see her life fall apart in front of our eyes as she subcomes to the paranoia. we clearly see her battling this dilemma internally over the reality of the situation throughout the episodes until 'it' fully takes over her, transforming from her therapist to the antler queen. indicating she has fully entered a psychosis episode and is the prophet once more. emotionally, she feels the need to enforce a new hunt because only she can do it and only she can supposedly handle the repercussions of it (even though she clearly cannot).

yet, this time the wilderness was the start of her undoing, there were two fates sealed that night.

lottie begins to fully regress. this is the circle that is her life, making her loop back to the start...

this moment, in the kitchen, had so many layers to it — through shauna's anger here, you can tell she saw everyone blurring together.

(god simone's facial expressions in this scene again, her eyes say a thousand words with lottie! I really love her acting).

"it never meant what you thought it meant."

lottie like always tries to challenge shauna's perspective once more, tries to challenge the narrative of many things within shauna's life and get shauna to stop running — this is an attempt to move forward, not back. here I do not believe she was under any deluded infulence.

(even if back then she said callie was powerful in her psychosis episode after she just took a shot to the arm like it was nothing — but maybe I'm wrong with future episodes... but for now this is my thought on the scene).

because in many of lottie's climatic moments with shauna, you can feel the emotion between the two is clear, real and raw. lottie's placement with shauna in these big moments through her perspective is usually trying to ground her and makes her look at everything. she deeply cares for shauna enough to even allow shauna to beat her to a plup in grief to clear her mind and how she defended shauna's grieving actions from tai during the jackie body fight, attempting to give shauna some closure.

however shauna's perspective of lottie is the opposite, changing from needing to be defensive to aggressive with her as shauna further breaks down. we can see that with how she views lottie with her child in her dream, how she outright rejects lottie's mysticism and guidance for something dangerous, obsessing over the potential threat she may cause (despite shauna being a threat herself). lottie gave herself up as a punching bag, as someone for shauna to vent out her frustrations on and shauna has ran with that even since to the point it has clouded her judgment of lottie. it created an antagonistic dynamic in her mind, despite that never being reciprocated.

and because of this dynamic: they bring out each other's fatal flaw — lottie's love & shauna's rage.

so, I believe we exprience this reaction to the necklace in the kitchen through shauna's perspective as she voices her distress.

but, lottie is right, the necklace was never meant to be about death, it was always meant to be a symbol of protection, love and comfort. she tries to get that through to shauna. yet shauna sees it at face vaule, a symbol of death not the one of hope and luck jackie meant it to be. the one of comfort it originally was meant to be when lottie gave it to shauna back when they were about to burn jackie's body.

this moment forces shauna to panic, due to her denial and guilt, over being faced to acknowledge that once again she changed the meaning of something that belongs to jackie, what she left behind for shauna, when she placed it on nat during the first hunt for the worse. the meaning jackie put onto necklace, the meaning lottie gave to the necklace by giving it back to shauna — that's what lottie is telling her to remember, not what it became, but what it was.

also this may be a far assumption, but the "you can feel it too" — the emphasis and tension in that, through shauna's perspective, she chooses to focus on that being about death, making it sound more sinister than it is through the emotional roller coaster she is expriencing right now.

but, really this is about jackie, not the hunts, not the wilderness chosing — it is jackie because this moment of returning the necklace to shauna as adult is calling back to the body scene. it gives a hint that lottie understands the turmoil going on beyond callie's inquiries into the past with what shauna is go through. adding more to the connection between callie and jackie that the story has visually alluding to as well.

lottie has always been quite intuitive when it comes to shauna's emotional wellbeing especially in these situations. coming back to when they were all together drinking when shauna said she would rather not know what she is suppressing and lottie said she'll have to face it eventually as it manifests itself sooner or later in life...

now this scene in the kitchen, it may have been interpreted as a gesture of kindness on lottie's end compared to shauna. this is what jackie may have wanted, this is what might have happened to the necklace in another reality if it kept its original context. a hand me down vs a death sentence. this is just a really scene that shows what yellowjackets is about, the double narrative, the double line of reality, the double perspective. how shauna sees, in her reality, lottie as the main antagonist to her protagonist in the narrative of her life. but, in actuality lottie is one of the most loving presences shauna has ever had in her life.

(hey maybe wearing blue flannel again and kicking someone out is shauna soulmate-ism LMAO. but with lottie's death and the events of episode 5, you can now see shauna is starting to fully face her reality, what lottie wanted and the real truth of the situation. questioning the narrative she's placed on lottie as she starts this journey of uncovering her death — I hope she comes to see that and the tragedy of lottie and their relationship outside of what was just mentioned).

anyways, back to the main point...

lottie is rejected once more by shauna. seeing that her actions have hurt her, someone she loves once again and she is forced to leave before she can even explain herself. the meaning her actions have once again been misinterpreted — vilified by shauna's viewpoint of her. she is abandoned by another loved one. this is the final nail in the coffin with how she has been rejected fully by the only people and place she could call her safespace.

lottie is now fully pushed into that vulnerable insecure state. returning her mentally to her child self, that literally leads her physically back to her first childhood home — where it all started. we saw how her life was forced to move backwards once the wilderness started showing itself to her again. forcing her to face everything about it once more.

how she lost everything she built as an adult.

how she was sent back to the ward.

how she returned to someone part of that only place she ever felt accepted, herself in, loved in, that she cared deeply for and wanted that understanding back.

how she was doing things she did as a teenager again.

how she went back to her first childhood home. a place where she was still being seen as her younger self by her father who has an even more warped sense of reality than herself now.

still apologising repeatedly for her actions that hurt people, to what feels like everyone here and not here, but also — with the visual cut to her young self... it is to herself. with how her life has ended up, with how everything she has ever loved has gone, how she could not protect herself still, everything she tried to do in all of her attempts to rebuild and break free of the cycle of self harm and self destruction she finds herself in... 25 years after such a terrible situation that basically made her, this now is breaking her. she couldn't escape (shown by the location where she ends up dying — she predicted it, she couldn't break the cycle).

that she was not lottie here, she was charlotte.

dying in the place where her life ended, but also where her life began...

alone.

she was left alone from the beginning.

she was still alone until the end.

the moment she was never alone was one of the worst events of her life that was paradoxically probably the best time of her life with the people she loved the most.

she was a victim of her environment, a victim of others and, sadly a victim of herself... she was dangerous, she was hurtful, she was selfless, she was helpful, she was kind, she was manipulative. she was so many things, but there is nuance to it, she transcended the typical description for these words.

she is a tragic character through and through.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets season 3 #yellowjackets spoilers #lottie matthews #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #laura lee #I hope dyslexia has not kicked my ass when writing this and y'all get what I'm trying to yap about

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fakeagatha · 4 months ago

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How about a little coven meet up where they are all sharing their identities and someone (maybe reader or Alice) brings up non binary and Rio is like wait there’s a name for that?🤷🏻‍♂️😊

Youth | The Coven | Agatha All Along

Summary: After a trial, the coven gather round together and their conversation leads to their identities and new information they didn't know was possible.

A/N: Hey anon, thanks for this request. I'm not entirely sure if this is exactly what you were looking for but I did my best!

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing Word Count: 669 Genre: Crack Date: 7/4/2025

AAA Community

Divine Headcanon Generator

The fire crackled quietly as the seven witches' gathered around it to protect themselves from the cold air of the road. It had only been an hour since they sat down to rest, to regain their strength after the recent trials.

"Agatha, what made you realize you were a lesbian?" Jennifer's voice was heard, her face illuminated from the flames.

Agatha looked up at her in surprise, not expecting such a straightforward question. "That's quite blunt." She blinked, "I mean, back in the day you weren't allowed to be homosexual, and it wasn't talked about, so I didn't even know it existed." She sighed, looking up at the younger woman. "That's why I was confused when I first saw the woman I came to marry. Why did I want her in a way a man would? I thought I was sinning." She laid back against the log she was resting on, "Freshly 18 years old and traumatized."

Jennifer hummed, looking at Agatha with sympathy. "I remember... It was a scary time. I was terrified someone would find out about my sexuality and I would be killed."

"That sounds horrible." Billy spoke up, looking between the two. "And to think it was difficult now, huh?"

They fell into a silence for a little bit, relieved by the heat of the fire. Every silence was uncomfortable, because it made the surroundings eerily quiet for them, like there was a danger just waiting to come out at any moment.

Lilia was the first to break it again, "I never even thought about it before. The few relationships I've had have been men, but I don't think I would deny the opportunity to be with a lady." She stated, making some smile, and Agatha interrupting.

"How could you not want to be with a lady?" She scoffed, making the group laugh, which made Agatha crack a proud smile and Rio roll her eyes.

"I don't think I would. Women are beautiful, but I'd stay loyal to my husband." Sharon said, despite being silent for a lot of the journey already.

Alice smiled at her, "That's valid, Mrs Davis." She sighed, "I actually dated a nonbinary person once, it was great!"

"A what now?" Rio raised her eyebrow, looking at Alice in confusion.

"A nonbinary person, someone who doesn't identify as male or female, maybe they feel as a bit of both, or neither."

"Now that's new to me." Agatha smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't know that was a thing." Rio perked up, "That explains some things that I've seen the past decade, then. I didn't know there was a term."

"Yeah, the term has existed for much longer but it's only recently being recognized." Billy added, and Alice nodded along.

Sharon chuckled, "That's something I've never heard of, but it's nice to see our youth being comfortable with themselves."

Lilia agreed, while Billy and Alice awed, pleased to know that even the people who aren't used to such concepts, are willing to learn and be respectful.

"I understood transgender people, but sometimes I did wonder, what if someone didn't want to be a man or a woman?" Rio added again, looking off into the distance, "I thought it was just a thought I had to myself this whole time!"

The group chuckled, and Alice shook her head with a smile, "Nope, lots of people feel that way!"

"Well that's fascinating." Rio stated, leaning back against Agatha, who pretended not to notice her body weight on her, "Now I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

Agatha bit back a smile, giving Rio a knowing look. Only she knew Rio was death, which meant she didn't physically need to be energized to function. "Alright then, I'm sure you need your beauty sleep."

"I'm with her. I can't stay conscious for much longer." Jennifer whined, trying to get comfortable on the grass beneath her.

"Goodnight guys, goodnight Mrs- oh." Billy paused, looking at the older woman who had most likely been passed out for the last few minutes.

"Jeez, even I'm better than that." Agatha grumbled, crossing her arms.

"We know you're not." Rio said 'sleepily'.

"Fuck off."

"Goodnight!"

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #alice wu gulliver #billy maximoff #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #sharon davis #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #sasheer zamata #ali ahn #debra jo rupp #patti lupone #fics

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starrycassi · 8 months ago

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Some small details of my jayvik work for silco au because I still don't have quite enough time to write an actual coherent storyline-driven snippet rn (I'm a scholarship baby there is NO Fucking Free Time in my life)

Viktor thinks that the idea of marriage is absolutely stupid and vain. People don't get married in Zaun. They move in together after a while and then have kids. Some people definitely like to have house-warming parties and such, but marriage as a whole is plainly useless, most of the time. Since Zaun is technically still part of Piltover, getting married would include having to go up there and getting into so much paperwork that most people just. don't do that shit. it's not like they have any insurance so might as well save themselves the trip.

Jayce is, unfortunately, a piltie. He wants to get hitched. Big ass loud wedding. Invite everyone they know. He brings this up, trying to be discreet. He's horrible at discretion. He doesn't push, content with just being with Viktor and not wanting to push too hard. The idea lingers for a long, long time, though.

I'm still unsure of how that ends. The current plan is to have them do a small ceremony with their immediate "family" (Singed, Sevika, Silco, Jinx, Jayce's few friends) and then throwing a party in the last drop. What would probably sway Viktor into this is the thought of finally making it painfully obvious that Jayce is his and, well, seeing Jayce be happy.

Jayce is really good friends with the girls in the brothel. Sevika introduces them to him in hopes of getting him to cheat and comes back to find him doing their hair. He's actually really fucking grossed out by the whole concept of prostitution, always finding a bit of Caitlyn on every girl, and the image wrecks him. Any of them could be his baby sister. Bad lives with bad works and bad clients and bad health. He wants to help them, then crashes and realizes that there's only so much one man can do.

Jayce has the biggest fucking savior complex ever. It's literally becoming a problem. Viktor has to constantly restrain him from doing things that would stir the pot up too much. At least, not in public. Jayce is helping that teen mom. He turns around and Jayce is helping that old lady with the faulty eye. He blinks and Jayce is surrounded by children, trying to give candies to all of them. He looks at the side for a millisecond and Jayce is patching up someone's wounds.

While Viktor pretends to hate this, it's one of the main reasons why he loves this man. Jayce wants to help people as much as Viktor does. The knowledge makes him get dizzy with happiness every time he remembers that his partner is the kindest person he's ever met. He's infuriated by the fact that Jayce even has to do that stuff, angry that he never got that help when he needed it the most, ashamed and disappointed at himself for getting entangled with Silco, jealous of Jayce's ease with the public.

Viktor is actually really loved by the community. They do call him "The Herald" and avoid his eyes, but it's more out of respect than fear. They all know who he is, remember his scrawny knees and butched hair cut, and are thankful to him. He's done much more than he gives himself credit for.

Viktor developed an "air filter" mask to rey and give to all of Zaun. Silco only agreed to provide funding if the masks were only given to people who swear loyalty to his case and Viktor had to agree, with the condition that he could give out at least one a month to a person of his choice. This caused an almost immediate growth of Silco's army.

Viktor constantly offers Ekko a mask, endeared with the child and wanting him to be as happy as possible. Benzo makes Ekko deny it, knowing that some people might see it as a form of "siding" with them.

Viktor is CONSTANTLY going behind Silco's back to give his work to the people. CONSTANTLY. He is making prosthesis after prosthesis. Jayce's actions enrage him because he's created this beautifully woven lie to silco and here comes his idiot boyfriend being good in public. Like. Jayce. We're both gonna die if you keep this up.

Viktor gives Jayce even sharper canines. Like the second day they hangout together. And I mean ripping-skin kinda sharp. He's absolutely OBSESSED with Jayce's teeth in general and is constantly seen with his fingers in his partner's mouth, tracing over the sharp edges of his teeth, asking Jayce to "hold wide" while he analyzes. It always ends with them making out sloppy style.

Jayce wants to get a piercing. Everyone in here has cool body mods and all he has is a lil scar on the eyebrow. A brothel girl suggests, jokingly, that he should get nipple ones. Jayce stays silent for so long that all of them gasp at his blushing face.

Sevika actually develops a bit of a soft spot for Jayce. EVENTUALLY. after a LOT of time. He realizes this when she shoves a bottle of whiskey on his chest and tells him to "go get your man, he's passed out on his desk, muttering. I think he's got fever." They start accepting that the other cares about Viktor, which is enough to get to team up and appreciate one another.

Silco tries to be mysterious once (1) and comes in without knocking the door because he's pretty sure they are conspiring against his back (they are) and wants to catch them in the act. And catch them in the act he does. Just , well, the wrong one. Never again is he opening that fucking door. Never, ever again.

Their relationship is actually kinda toxic for a while. Viktor has to very explicitly tell Jayce that he wants him to work with him, not for him. He's always worried about Jayce's honesty and they have multiple fights over this. Have is also going through five identity crises at the same time and they have insane shit to build. They're also both fucking stubborn so they don't really talk a lot about those topics. It's not until Jayce gets his status as The Warden/Defender (haven't decided on his Zaun Title™ yet) that they become fully open with each other, which in turn brings even more fights. They are young and in love okay sue em. They EVENTUALLY get fully comfortable with who they are/the other is (their frontal cortex finishes developing), and when this happens every single Zaunite can feel it. The fucking ooze danger and kindness and electricity and calm.

Deep down, Jayce never stops waiting for the day they allow him back up again. Dreams of glass ceilings, hot running water, reliable public transportation, and so much more. He wants jinx to go to the playground and make friends. Thankfully, he's not naive enough to try and get back, instead focusing on trying to make that possible in here.

He actually kinda related to Singed. He, too, would absolutely go batshit insane trying to get Viktor/Jinx back. Fuck en morals. If one of them was ever in that capsule Jayce would walk into the council rooms, break every window and smash any books before taking everything needed to get them back to health.

He's in a constant state of worry/admiration/horniness every single time Viktor speaks about a new invention. Like yeah baby that's funny please don't bring eugenics up. Specially not in the side of eugenics.

Jayce is HEAVILY projecting Cait onto Jinx. Jinx is HEAVILY projecting Vi onto him. They have the worst brother/sister relationship one has ever seen. Jayce can actually become overbearing, which is why Jinx ends up preferring to Viktor when advice is needed.

Jayce has decent aim with a gun (much like Viktor) but is absolutely fucking crazy at body-on-body combat. Making sevika actually work for her win kind of good.

Also: everyone exclusively refers to Viktor as "herald" when he's anywhere. It's almost a term of endearment. He quite likes it.

They are both constantly telling Silco that "I'm just a teen!" Is not an appropriate response to dealing with Jinx's attempt of murder.

Jayce goes, in disguise, to check up on his mom. He watches for afar and cries for the whole day, when he does. Viktor tries to come by sometimes. The only thing he regrets of leaving away Piltover iis the spot he left in his mother's life.

The first time Jinx sees Viktor have a full own health attack she goes crazy. He starts coughing up blood and almost passing out, falling to the floor while scrambling for his cane. He knows he's not going to die right now but conveying this is kinda heard when you're grasping for air. Jinx wails over his body. She's screaming for Dad and for Jayce and for Sevika in such a raw, loud way that Viktor has nightmares with her voice for days. Jayce is so deeply disturbed by Jinx's state that he sleeps in her room for a few days, watching over her, trying to stay awake on a couch in the corner, watching her toss and turn in her sleep.

Bit of a nsfw warning: these bitches are LOUD. Not always, but when they do, they are animalistic loud. Begging and crying and pleading and sobbing kinda loud. There's chains. There's leather. There's everything. Viktor usually tops, but he doesn't mind it the other way around. Jayce stays obedient in each, so.

#jayvik au #jayce arcane #vikror talis #Viktor arcane #guys today was Purísima and I'm kinda hammered. i will probably echeck tomorrow #or today.#yeah #gn #a #shimmering progress au

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