#but it's where my own logic and the little guy in my brain takes me

[lucihens]

Hi. I just want to somehow make catharsis about the whole Chenford break up going on and listen other takes on it.

Maybe Im just a girl going through Mercury Retrograde being delulu not wanting to aknowledge they are over. Having said that:

I just know this is not the end for them. But not for plot reasons that we are all speculating. I mean sure for plot reasons is necesary for Tim to get his shit together before taking the next step with Lucy (Eric said in his interview that Tim loves her and its seen in the lie detector scene and all the Tamara moving out storyline that has been going since last season they are sure heading to moving together). Also sure Lucy has suffered many things and is interesting to see her next steps.

But I just know this is for marketing reasons. They need the show to be renewed for another season and a massive cliffhanger like this one when there's a 3 weeks break between episodes where they know people will be engaged on it is a good way on getting that renewal.

They know people still watching the show because Chenford. They have stated they are endgame. But they are producers and writers and plan things ahead in order to keep the show going. Is just trust the process and the fact that they work on this and know what they are doing. I have seen many shows (most of them from ABC) to know they give the fans what they want bc in the end is a product that is sold and know that not doing something your target audience wants equals not product to be sold.

Also, even though Melissa and Eric had said that there are some things coming on Tim and Lucy on the season finale and blah blah blah. They are putting a lot of effort on the breakup promotionally speaking. The interviews released the second the episode finished, the TikToks from Melissa, the whole ice cream promo with letters to the cast about the breakup and they laughing and making jokes (also like the ig account still saying Chenford stan account) is more clear is about making the people engaged and furthermore, making the network renew the show for season 7. They are actors and know they must keep a good relationship with their fans (I mean if you make something that upset your fans then how would you keep getting called to act if you dont have people watching them for you and other actors can), what Im saying Is they are laughing and all of this because they know how it ends and know they end in a place where fans will love it, if not they are basically bullyng us lol.

So long story short: just keeping my peace of mind knowing it is just marketing. By the interviews we know somehow the season finale lets them in a good place, so if season 7 comes maybe we got time to see them making up with more time and development (things this season had been rushed bc the strike, not only here but in most shows) and if there's not season 7 it will end up with Chenford with a sort of an open finale where all points to them giving it another chance in their inmidate future.

Hope i made myself clear. Just wanted to vent haha. And lets chill and cross fingers for season 7 and an Oscar for Melissa and Eric because that break up was so CHEFF KISS like girlll I have felt that pain too.

hello dear anon! thank you for being my very first ask!

i hope you won't regret venting to me because this response ended up....well...extensive. i have many many things to say and a lack of adhd medication to contain them.

i would also like to note that i'm not at all experienced with writing think pieces on the internet. but even though i haven't written an essay since college, i can sure yap. and even though i'm a genius /s, this may not make sense to anyone. so here's what my chronic fatigue and i were able to conjure up:

yes, tv shows are primarily for an audience, whether writers and directors do accept that or not, that's what i'm guessing producers have in mind. tv is literally built 'for your viewing pleasure', and with this show in the past, and by past i mean season 5 especially (and the shock and surprise of 4x22), they (whoever they is) have been manically hitting that red button titled 'DO THE THING THEY WANT' just so they can say they did it and you as an audience can't complain. so yes in my experience, shows very often, if not always, write for an audience, otherwise the creators would just be giggling at themselves in their own private screening room at their custom, personalised tv show made only for them. when you give a show to the masses, it is, in certain ways, their's now. so going against everything an audience wants is certainly an interesting move, and since i have a common disease called 'being absolutely befuddled by the varying degrees of human nature' i don't know particularly what their aim is, what they're hoping this will provide an audience, as well as the show as a whole. what i do know however, is that there is not just one kind of audience, within the watchers of the rookie, there is obviously an abundance of angst lovers, an array of fluff lovers, complex think piece people, and apathetic 'this is what i fill the void of a tuesday night with' people (which is potentially what makes up a good portion of the viewers (?), not just the dedicated fandom we see on social media). with this in mind, the creators, the writers, are evidently incapable of satisfying every single diverse/contradictory demographic. so it's unclear which demographic they want to make happy at a given storyline. is this to give the angst lovers what they want? is this to give the comfortable fluff lovers a kick in the rear? or is this just to keep the average viewer interested in this ever-appealing show? i can't speak for them at all so i couldn't say which, but i also haven't a scooby doo. maybe others could give their opinion on which of these they think the creators are aiming for, because i couldnt tell you. then again, maybe it's all of them. maybe we let the rest of the season play out to completion, and we may know for sure. but marketing a show goes hand in hand with keeping the general audience as well as potential new viewers: 1. happy and excited, 2. interested in investing their time into the show. and given that season 6 is a short season: yes, i'm sure the marketing the break up is one of their best bets at keeping ratings up and viewers in, whether it comes directly from outrage or intrigue. and given how some other storylines seem to fall kind of flat (wink wink nol–), especially compared to last season, the initial lucy storylines and the now tim storylines are what is keeping up the hype for such a small season. and i'm sure (hoping) the other characters will have something to add to the s6 plate to further the impact of such a small season and the plots within. but for the most part 'chenford' is such an electric word. drop it in anywhere and the millions(?) who have ever laid eyes on the show just got a shock. and they know that, so of course they'll use it to their advantage in anyway they can.

and with this rambling: one thing i'm sure of, the only thing i'm sure of, is that yes: THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. and not just a slight admiration or a tinge of care. actual undying love. incomprehensible love. i don't know a lot about this topic but i definitely love to aggrandise the concept of love, and especially unto something harmless like fictional characters. in the real world, loving someone isn't always enough for sure. but not loving someone at all can also having no bearing in the upkeep of a relationship (i know this from personal experience). so whether or not two people end up together in real life, has no distinguished rule of 'do this and feel that and you'll be together forever'.

but this is fiction! WE make this stuff up. so we can do whatever we want! we can link A to B and say these characters love each other so they must end up together, and still be flawed along the way, because they are not real. so in my opinion the various ideas like "real relationships have people breaking up", "real relationships have people never getting back together", "real relationships have people never breaking up", and to follow, the incessant "real relationships have good communication!" don't matter anyway because ideas based reality have absolutely no impact in this fictional realm. yes bring in realism, be realistic if you want, but don't let reality dictate your fiction entirely (as well as the inverse). nor should you let reality make you want your fiction to be completely unreal. both fiction and reality have complexity in personality and characterisation. people have personalities and characters have characterisation. the one commonality is imperfection. but just because they are similar doesn't mean they have to be the same. it doesn't mean chenford are realistically doomed. and with this the plot that may unfold could be one unexpected, one unreal, or one completely real. tim and lucy could work through their own storylines, flaws and complexities separately and i'd be glad to see it.

i had a lot of issues with how fan service esque the initial 'canonisation' felt and maybe this is not just to market their show, but to finally listen to the majority of the audience, the particular audience that literally helps them market the show. aka the social media citizens. the ones who talk up a storm about what they love about the show and literally rope others into watching it. maybe they'll finally write them with more specific intentions this time, maybe this is what this is for. not just for drama but to give us what we wanted to watch in the first place but heavily missed out on: pining, feelings, dramatic reconciliation. who knows. we won't. not until the season is over and s7 inevitably comes (it's guaranteed).

i know many become angry with this show about what it does and doesn't do but one thing that helps me survive is this: it doesn't matter, the episodes exist anyway. they will continue to exist even if they don't have what we want. all we can do is feel every feeling this show evokes because that's really what it is to be entertained, at least for me. we're not the creators at the end of the day, no matter how much we've created. if something happens we don't like, we don't like it and we talk about how we don't like it. if we do like it, we talk about how we like it. and we praise the actors anyway, for the characters they bless us with. and the creatives, who gave us the masterpiece that is season 2.

and with that, i conclude. this definitely got away from me like the runaway train in my adhd brain. i wrote this sleepy and fatigued and i think i might be brain dead so if there are contradictions or things that make not a bit of sense feel free to call me out on it! especially those who are more experienced yappers, i'd definitely like to know what you disagree with or think has no place in this piece.

anyway, fin. thank you anon and TLDR; chenford will be fine and the show will always favour exploiting the most loved characters for marketing but with every PR box of ice cream sent and every article written brings in one more viewer to our beloved show and at least we'd stand a chance of a season 10.

[hopefulfuturenovelauthor]

Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?

Hi, sorry for taking so long, but I am very grateful for your patience!

Here you go...

Headcanons of what's like to date Bruce, Dick, Jason, Martian, Wally, and Clark?

I would like to state that I’m assuming you meant Martian Manhunter and not Miss Martian, but in the case that I am wrong and you meant Miss Martian let me know and I’ll add her to this or write a super-long essay of your guy’s relationship or something!

As always please do not copy my work in any way, shape, or form. Thanks!

Warnings: none i think... not spell checked...

Bruce Wayne

Dating Bruce Wayne? Gotham’s favorite Billionaire and the Batman? Wow, good luck.

There is a lot of angsty shit in your relationship. Keep in mind it’s not like you guys have like crazy issues or anything, not to say that the Joker isn’t a crazy issue, but I mean that you don’t actually fight with each other a lot. 

You disagree quite a bit considering you watch him on monitors and he goes out and actually gets hurt, but all of that frustration and worry comes from a place of care.

However, you didn’t talk to him for days when he decided to let Dick join him in the field. You were beyond upset, especially since you knew the dangers of crime-fighting yourself, seeing as you used to be a vigilante. 

Regardless of that, it was Dick that convinced you to cut Bruce some slack. Eventually, you came to agree with the teenager, but only after you kicked Bruce where the sun doesn’t shine.

On a nicer note, definitely lots of gifts coming from his end even though he is called the dark knight.

Even when you were both playing hero and he didn’t know who you were under the mask he gave you little gadgets. You two had also met outside of hero-ing and in your real lives where he constantly graced you with the treat of coffee and/or donuts. 

He likes to get you nice treats and sweets. He knows you don’t care for expensive gifts, especially since you work for a lot of nonprofits.

As for PDA on a scale, I will give you a 7.5/10. A solid 2.5 for physical affection such as hand holding, forehead kisses, whispering in each other's ears, and being a little too close to each other but not so close that you freak out everyone else around you.

As for that leftover 5 on the scale, holy shit do you guys never shut up. The constant flirting is where most of this score comes from. Saying embarrassing and inappropriate shit anywhere and everywhere is common with you. You tease each other relentlessly and enjoy seeing the other squirm. It can be quite uncomfortable for others around you, but you tend to keep the more spicy comments quieter, which leads to all of your odd whisperings.

You sort of live with him…? You guys are most often at his place, but you did decide to keep your own just because you wanted something that you paid for and could afford unlike his gigantic fucking manor.

Bruce cares for you deeply and understands why you want to keep your independence and have at least something of your own, especially considering that you guys work together often.

You are close with all of his family, including each kid he adopts, takes in, or has under his proverbial wing. In fact, you kind of think they prefer you over him, or at the very least Jason definitely does. 

It might also be common sense now that Alfred also likes you more than Bruce because, in your guys' relationship, you have all of the brain cells and are logical. 

You both can be impulsive and rude. You both can come across as very blunt and private people. You work well together despite everything.

You were very glad in the end that you both found someone so supportive and understanding. 

You both were also glad that you had the guts to kiss him because, honestly, he was never going to make the first move without it being an epic disaster.

Dick Grayson

Yay! Okay, this guy and you wow. May I just say couple goals here. Like yes, wonderful, perfect together.

Will you go off on someone for hurting his feelings? Count on it. Whether it is physically fighting or verbally berating someone, you also support everyone’s favorite Blue Bird.

Cute nicknames? Yes, as I stated previously, Blue-Bird, you know because he had been Robin and then he became Nightwing, and Nightwing’s suit is black and blue. Also, his eyes are blue and they look so pretty you could stare at them all day. Also, often used but none as creative as Blue-Bird, sweetheart, darling, cutey, and love.

His pet names for you, are Darling, beautiful, sweetie, bundle of too much adorableness, most wonderful human being to ever exist, my reason for getting out of bed every morning, and love. It is obviously a wonderful mixture of names, and yes, sometimes you do worry about him.

I mean how could you not, you were there since he became Robin, you comforted him through every phase, from being a rebellious teen by denouncing Bruce, becoming Nightwing, forming his own group of heroes, and making the obvious mistake of wearing tights as a part of his costume (that one was particularly hard for you).

I will now rate your PDA, congrats you have received a 6/10. You guys like to give small face kisses (forehead, top of the head, cheek, nose, temple, etc.), you guys give each other small pecks on occasion, and always say ‘I love you’ when one of you has to leave. You hold each other's hands a lot. You guys are very sweet and very wholesome. The only time you aren’t is when you get reunited after a long time (2+ weeks) or a life-threatening thing happens (which is pretty often, I’m not going to lie). 

When you reunite do you share that time slowed down and you are running to each other with the wind in your hair moment before frantically grasping one another to share a passionate kiss. 

Sometimes he will tickle you and pick you up just to spin with you. This happens quite a lot and the two of you often have tickle fights.

You get along with his family, but you have no trouble standing up to them for him. You will fist fight with Jason and tell Tim to ‘shut up and go to sleep’. If Damian starts talking crap you won’t physically hit the child, but you will steal away his pets with treats, which annoys him because food > him.

You will scream at Bruce if necessary. Dick and his adoptive siblings will have to physically pick you up to get you away from the situation.

You guys never fight, except when you eat the last of each other’s ice cream. 

Jeez, you two are so cute together.

Jason Todd

You met early on but got together a few years after his death.

He used to annoy the shit out of you, but the events involving the Joker led you both in the same direction.

You both have a better understanding of each other than anyone else. You are field partners and the only real anti-heroes of Gotham.

You were quick to share an apartment once you both learned each other’s civilian names.

It is easier than you both expected to fall into a rhythm, which only made it easier to go from something platonic to something romantically domestic.

You never seemed to get in each other's way and could somehow calm the other down when the world became a little too quiet or loud. You both rarely slept in the separate beds you had brought and maneuvered into the one bedroom. In fact, neither of you really slept on a bed. 

Most nights you stayed up as late as you could and either returned home and passed out on the couch or watched tv till 3 am, cuddling, and passed out on the couch.

You guys are a little different than others. PDA is more of healthy ways to deal with trauma mixed with a little codependency (but nothing terrible, sometimes shit just gets hard for you both and you have some really off days). Hand holding, back rubs, hugs, and playing with each other's hair and hands are just ways to calm each other.

But back to PDA. Yes. 9/10. You will both totally make out in front of other people spontaneously without a care in the world. He tends to initiate it, but you certainly never have an issue with it.

After all of the shit you two have been through you don’t really care about other people’s comfort around you because you feel safe with each other and are each other's security blankets.

Pet names are definitely common. It is probably the most annoying thing he does when you work together fighting crime. You always hated how he was so arrogant and acted childish when he was Robin. Now he just calls you pet names and flirts ceaselessly with you while you fight together. He will call you sweetheart, darling, beautiful, gorgeous, love, my love, love of my life, and more when you are in the field. He calls you them outside of your night shift too, but that does not annoy you at all. 

You tend to use many of the back, if not all of them, because he means just as much to you. 

He always makes the most adorable face when you cradle his head and call him beautiful. Like this is the softest he will ever be with someone else and he just looks so small and cute and in need of a hug.

If he annoys you, expect gifts in the form of food and drinks. If you annoy him, expect to give him extra hugs and books. 

Yes, you read together, cuddling. Typically different books, but he acts as your personal heater and you love it.

Coffee shop dates, take-out-stay-in dates, and video game dates are to be expected. Also, pastries on top of buildings in the middle of the night are a great pastime.

Also, one last thing, just to mention, you are the only one allowed to use or even touch his guns.

Martian Manhunter

Telepathically communicating, yayyyyyyyy! Okay maybe too soon with that one. But really, expect to be snorting in a silent room as everyone looks at you like you're crazy except for him because he’s smiling fondly at your reaction. 

You two are very sweet together. You help the Justice League with PR stuff, so you talk with the group of heroes all the time.

You often work with the big names and more controversial people in the League, but you work with everyone when you need to.

Also, J’onn can fly so expect to be carried in his arms all the time. He won’t even think about it twice because why would he take you somewhere in a car when he can literally swoop you off your feet bridal style and fly off as you look up at him in complete adoration.

For the moment you’ve all been waiting for, PDA rating. I would say 3/10 in public and 6/10 in private. By that I mean outside world public and the justice hall, mount olympus, etc. as private. In your guy’s place he’s just a cuddle bug or a second cat because yes he bought you a cat for one of your anniversaries.

He cooks you dinner. You join him often, but like he loves to cook you dinner. You think it is really sweet, but he also loves to learn different earthly activities. That and M’gann sends him recipes she thinks you’ll like (and you always love them).

You once made him chocolate cake by the way and now he has a new favorite thing. He loves it and didn’t stop talking about it for months. 

He likes to hold your hands a lot. Sometimes when one of you is stressed the other reaches out in hopes of grounding them before they overthink. It’s very sweet and you both love the gesture.

You sort of also took M’gann under your wing when she first arrived and it melted yours and J’onn’s hearts when she first called you her aunt/uncle. At this point you're like the mom of the YJ and the go to friend for the league. It’s all very sweet but sometimes J’onn feels like the League is hogging you and ‘has to’ drag you away from everyone quite literally, which goes a little something like this:

“Oh, but J’onn, I was having a lovely conversation with Bruce.” “Oh, I’m very sorry, Y/n, but we really have to go,” as he starts to pull you out of the room. “Alright, sorry Bruce we can talk, more some other time?” Once you both make it out of the room you release a breath, “Dinner?” “Yes.” “Great because I’m hungry and Bruce was gnawing my ear off.” After that you both just laugh.

Dinner goes great by the way and you share chocolate cake at the end before going home to cuddle with your cat and watch baking and cooking shows.

Wally West

Just to get it out there, you show your guys affection through food and physical touch 

You make Wally whatever you can cook and make a lot of it for his boosted metabolism. You also order extra pizza for him.

He tries to bake you your favorite desserts but sometimes lacks the patience and other times he eats half of it.

He typically just always buys you your favorite snacks and desserts. Even then he always ‘sneaks’ a bite.

Your PDA is surprisingly low, but as he matures it definitely increases. Like Dick had told you all those years ago it took a while to get used to Wally eating.

I would rate you a 2/10 at the beginning of your relationship and an 8/10 when at your best. (basically Young Justice S1 Wally compared to S2)

You are always touching each other. I don’t mean in an inappropriate way, but considering it is Wally that isn’t unheard of, just not often done in public.

On top of that, he will carry you everywhere, superspeed, normal speed it does not matter. Hand holding always, hugging always. He just wants physical contact. And piggy backs.

But like also, his pickup lines. I repeat his pickup lines. They are so cheesy and corny and you find them endearing somehow. I mean I do too, he is a sweetheart so yeah.

He treats you so well too. Your well-being matters so much to him and if you need something, he will be there in like 3 seconds regardless of where he is.

Nicknames should be expected: whatever you do, whatever you like he finds a way to make it a nickname. He does use babe a lot, but it feels a little basic so he comes up with new one's all the time. Sometimes they stick and other times you choke on air, but the scientific method says that you will fail and retry so it doesn’t phase him.

For the record though, he is Wally so a lot of his nicknames are food based: honey, cupcake, sugar cube, sweet potato, and more.

If you nerd out with him he will never, I repeat, never let you go. 

Also if you wear his merch he will be all over you. Depending on the situation and the place it might get a little spicy, but in most cases he will wrap his arms around your middle and just hold you tightly as he falls back into a chair or couch or something. He will not let you go and will nuzzle his face into your neck for hours. For someone that is so fast and gets bored so easily, he will never want any of this to end. 

Clark Kent

Yeah, you know. You knew. You were well aware of who he was. One single pair of glasses did not fool you. I mean, you didn’t say anything until like the seventh date, but you knew.

Yay, lucky you are normal, in fact, you do not play hero in your free time, but you do have some abilities.

You blame the particle accelerator explosion that occurred in your last home for your abilities. But they were easy to hide and really helped with your job.

You are a psychologist/part-time therapist. You met Clark through an interview you did about the effects of the most recent attack in Metropolis on the citizens' mental health. You had to fight for this article to even exist, but you did so because you could feel the fear that radiated throughout it. 

You did everything you could to provide as much help and information as you could on the topic. Clark had been the photographer for the interview and you both immediately hit it off.

He asked you out to dinner when you stopped by his office to discuss doing another article. Clark said that to celebrate the occasion he could take you out if you wanted.

You said yes because free dinner was nice and he seemed like a good guy, so you thought why the heck not?

Of course, the date went well and you highly enjoyed his company. He asked you out again and said yes.

On your third date, he had to leave early for whatever reason, and then a minute later Superman flew by and started to stop a robbery a block away. Interested, you got as close as you could and were very shocked when you saw Superman’s face. 

You didn’t mention it, but he had the same aura with the slightest bit of guilt that you thought was likely toward leaving you mid-date.

Once he knew you knew he eased up a lot and told you all about his past and Krypton and his powers and his hero-ing. 

You guys have great communication, which is in part due to your empathic abilities. You can always tell when something bothers him and he is more than willing to talk through whatever troubles him. You do the same understanding that you both thrive off of honesty with each other.

Conversation always comes easy. 

Some activities you like to do together are going out for dinner, movie nights, baking, picnic dates, and annoying Bruce Wayne.

Your PDA scale would be like a 4/10 at most. You are very sweet with each other, but sometimes you both find it odd being extra coupley with others around you. Since Clark has super hearing he can tell when people are uncomfortable and since you have your empath abilities you can feel it too. Other people’s moods also affect yours in general so the more people there are the more overwhelmed you feel so you try to avoid anything more than a quick peck on the cheek. 

However, it is still very obvious you two are together because you spend a lot of time with each other and go to lunch together basically every day.

Around the Justice League, you can be a little more open with your affections but you both still prefer privacy.

Nicknames: yes. There are some of the basics: darling, dear, love, etc. Clark particularly likes calling you my dear and you enjoy calling him sweetheart. Sometimes you joke around when he enters a room and you say, “It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s my boyfriend, Clark Kent.”

[cinnamonest]

I'm thinking about Childe fuckboy sex pest whiny dramatic little bastard tendencies again. It's haunting my brain and compelling my fingers to type so endure my ramblings

His most infuriating tendency is just being so pushy and self-centered. Very overdramatic and whiny about it too. He's that typical boy who just cannot process there being anything that should take priority above him getting his dick wet.

He does genuinely care about you though. Like, if you get sick or something he understands. Will hold your hair back while you're sick and will get you water and stay by your side and hold you and all.... but once it's over and you're finally feeling less queasy after your multi-hour sickness session, laying there in bed, he sort of snuggles up to you, hard-on pressing into your thigh like "so you're feeling better now right 👉👈"

Or you're exhausted, you have a headache, you're just worn out and he's all "But? :( my dick tho? :(" because God forbid he have to so much as conceptualize going without getting to empty his balls in you for a span of over 12 hours. He will get sad if he can't get his dick wet at a moment's notice. As in, he expects you to just drop everything you're doing.

Which is a pesky thing of its own. You, unfortunately, have this tendency to do things, to perform tasks and activities, which is problematic because these things often get in the way. How, pray tell, is he supposed to get the necessary daily dose of pussy if you're doing things you can't immediately drop? It's literally a matter of his well-being and health?? And yet you say "just a minute" or "let me finish this" as if it's not a dire situation, because you are heartless and/or don't understand what he's going through. So he'll just be sure to stand there moping and looking dejected until you can get to a pausing point of whatever you're doing, so you understand the importance of the matter.

Sometimes it's worse and you are actually committed to some task. Yes you have that huge test you have to study for or that thing you have to do for your work but like... what about him. Where does he fit into that schedule of yours, because you mentioned how you're gonna divide up your hours for the night and not once did you mention taking regular breaks to give him attention and pussy and love. Do you just not care, is that it? You don't love him. You clearly hate him and you want him to suffer. Heartbreaking.

He gives you the standard "you wouldn't understand you're not a guy" speech, that you can't comprehend how strong the urges are, the fact that it is preposterous to expect him to exhibit any self-control when horny or to endure the agony of tfw no pussy. You wouldn't get it, it's literally a need and he can't be expected to function normally without getting to cum. No jerking off won't suffice, he can't go back to that because it's not good enough anymore, he has to cum and it has to be in you or else he will be in an unwell state of health and you will be responsible. This is literally like starving a person to death. Cruel. Barbaric. You would never do this if you really loved him. Would never want someone you really love to suffer like this.

He just lays there flopped on the bed or couch next to you, looking utterly miserable. Occasional dramatic groaning. If you're not paying enough attention he'll shuffle closer and wriggle his way under your arm to rest his head on your lap. Following by more "pay attention to me" groans.

And yes he will try to compare his lack of pussy to whatever objectively much worse ailment you're undergoing. He really does feel bad for you with your chronic pain or period cramps or migraines and all that — BUT, blue balls is equivalent to if not worse than any of those. Difference is you're inflicting this suffering on him. Imagine if he was inflicting your ailment on you, that would be unthinkably cruel right? So logically you should feel bad and pity him and fix the problem.

Why are you looking at him like that. Are you upset? ...You know what would probably make you feel better? Oh, now you look more mad. Why are you picking that thing up like you're about to throw it at him. So mean.

[cherienymphe]

Amnesiac VII (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON (for so many reasons)/borderline NON-CON, eventual NON-CON, manipulation, memory loss, underage drinking, drug use, non canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​ | divider by @firefly-graphics​

➥ series masterlist

summary: “There’s something wrong with your love story, baby…”

After a surfing accident leaves you with little to no memory of everything that happened before that day, you start to wonder if the blond in what little memories you do have is the same one who claims to be your boyfriend.

~

Rafe’s gaze was encouraging, blue eyes soft and smile small. The box before you was fairly big, and when you asked Rafe what was in it, he’d told you that it was a surprise. You felt nervous and confused, hesitantly reaching for it and pulling it closer. Your heart swelled at this gesture, thinking about how things had been weird between you two lately.

After the night where you’d gotten so drunk, you were much more reserved around Rafe, and he noticed. Part of you felt bad whenever you went to bed with your back turned towards the door or you woke up long before him, but you really didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, Rafe’s eagerness for his own girlfriend was understandable, but on the other… His aggression unnerved you. It reminded you of the Rafe from your memories, the version that was mean and careless with his words. Not the Rafe that was sitting before you.

Then there was the matter of The Wreck.

That shade of blond hair and that raspy voice was so familiar to you. It scratched an itch in your brain, mulling over the encounter days later. You weren’t stupid. At least, you liked to think that you weren’t, so it seemed logical to assume that that was JJ. The guy missing from all of your pictures. The guy who got underneath Rafe’s skin so bad that it had almost ruined your relationship again. The guy who you were apparently closer to than Rafe and even Sarah.

There were so many gaps in your memory, furthering your confusion once combined with what you were being told.

Swallowing a sigh, you opened the box, pausing at the pretty shade of yellow you were met with. You could feel Rafe’s gaze on you as you set the top aside, slowly reaching out to finger the chiffon material of the dress. It was simple, but not boring, strapless and long, and clearly made to move like water around you.

You opened and closed your mouth, at a loss for words before asking the occasion.

“Its for Midsummers.”

That term did ring a bell, and when you thought really hard, you had faint memories of nicely dressed people and extravagance and music.

“We always went together,” he told you. “Not as a couple. This year would be a first for that, but…”

Rafe moved closer, taking your hand.

“It’s always been a little tradition of ours,” he said, making you smile. “We’d make fun of whatever headpiece Rose decided to wear and sneak off with some drinks that definitely weren’t meant for us.”

Rafe chuckled, and you looked back down to the dress.

“Do you like it?” he finally asked.

“Yeah,” you honestly answered with a nod. “It’s really pretty.”

Rafe’s gaze was expectant when your eyes met his again, and you leaned over to kiss him. Rafe’s lips chased yours when you pulled away, and you chuckled to yourself when he kissed you again.

“I think I’m going to take it home,” you slowly told him, watching the slight frown form on his face.

“Home?”

You shrugged.

“My parents have been back for…what? A few weeks now? I know you said our relationship wasn’t the best, but I have to admit. I don’t like that they haven’t even reached out to me aside from the odd phone call or two.”

Rafe watched the way your face fell.

“I guess it’ll have to be on me to reconnect with them and familiarize myself with the house and parents I grew up with,” you said.

Rafe looked unsure, and you knew that he liked having you here with him and his family.

“Are you sure…?”

You nodded.

“I know what you said, but they are my parents, right? I want to know them. Now. Not when or if my memory ever returns,” you replied.

“I know, babe. I know. I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he told you with a wry smile.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him you’d already been disappointed when they didn’t even come to see you when they returned. You also didn’t have the heart to tell him that you just needed a breather. From him, from this family, and from this house.

You needed to think.

“Okay, okay. Y/N…”

You perked up at the sound of your name, pulling your gaze away from a familiar blue one to look over. Pope was coughing after his hit, holding his hand up while Kie laughed, gearing up to ask you his scenario.

“Okay,” he breathed, passing the blunt to her just as fingers ghosted over your lower back. “Would you rather…have eyes for nipples…”

There was a chorus of groans around the fire, yours included.

“…or teeth for eyes?”

“What?” Kie barked a laugh, almost spilling her drink, and you cringed, not liking either option.

“I think I’d go with the eye nipples,” you heard Sarah seriously murmur, deep in thought about it.

“It’s an impossible situation,” a familiar voice said at your side.

Pope shushed everyone, waving his arms around.

“Y/N has to answer,” he reminded everyone, and all eyes were on you.

You blew out a breath, genuinely torn at the horrible situation Pope put you in.

“I think Sarah has the right idea,” you finally answered, and you were met with some protests. “It’s not like my nipples are always going to be on display like my eyes, and even…then…I can always just keep my bra on.”

You shrugged, and Pope seemed to be satisfied with that answer, nodding. It was your turn, now, and you looked to your right, eyes meeting familiar blue ones, a teasing smile on your face.

“JJ.”

His own smile grew, and he held your gaze as he took the blunt from Kie. The fire danced in his azure eyes, a familiar glint in his gaze that made your heart race. His messy blond hair curled behind his ears, a few strands kissing his forehead, and you were tempted to brush them away.

Then you remembered where you were and took a deep breath.

“Would you rather…”

He brought the blunt to his pink lips, refusing to break eye contact. When his lips parted, he swirled the smoke around in his mouth for a moment, holding it there before finally exhaling.

“…have two tongues or three eyes?”

“A third eye?”

“A third eye,” you confirmed with a nod.

JJ chuckled, teeth winking at you as he took another hit, handing it to you with a hum. His fingers brushed yours as he did, and your heart skipped a beat. He exhaled, smoke billowing around your face just as he quickly glanced towards your lips, his tongue darting out to swipe across his own.

“Imagine what I could do with two tongues,” he laughed, and everyone else made noises of disgust.

You looked away from him, nodding at his answer as you took a hit too. You heard him addressing John B., and in the darkness, no one noticed the way his hand trailed to your lower back again, tracing circles into the exposed skin. His fingers danced along your side, playfully dipping into your shorts before making their way up your back again.

After arguing against John B’s answer for a few minutes, he stood. You looked up at him, watching as he ran his hand through his hair, asking if anyone else wanted a beer. JJ was met with mixed answers, and your lips parted when he looked down at you. He softly said your name, and you shook your head to his nonverbal question.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, glancing around the circle.

When he walked past you, his legs brushed against your back, and you felt the faint ghosting of fingers at the nape of your neck.

Your expectations were low, but holy fuck.

Your adoptive parents looked like the perfect couple. She was all prim and proper with vibrant red hair, and a perfect smile. Perfectly manicured nails, a sparkling wedding ring, and the kind of dress that every other trophy mom around here wore. He looked kind enough, but you had decided against that as soon as he opened his mouth.

“You need to get more sleep.”

Those were the first words out of his mouth as soon as he opened the door, answering your knock. No ‘hello’, ‘how are you’, or ‘we’re so relieved’. A critique was the first introduction you got to your parents as they ushered you inside.

“Ward told us that the doctor has given you some medication for your head,” your mother said as she poured you some water. “I hope you’ve been keeping up with it. Your accident was no minor thing.”

The words seemed caring enough, but they were empty. Robotic. If you didn’t know any better, and you probably didn’t, you’d say she was less worried about your wellbeing and more worried about how your wellbeing made them look.

“Uh. Yeah, I have.”

You thought on that with a frown. Her words didn’t align with her actions. After all, they had been back from their cruise for literal weeks, and this was the first time that you were face to face. You had hoped that their faces would bring forth some more memories, maybe even happier ones than what you’d been prepared for, but there was no such luck.

With them back, the interior of the house made so much sense. They fit perfectly within it, exuding wealth and cocktail parties and the very trust fund that Rafe had thrown in your face. It looked too perfect, like the couch was literally repelling anyone who dared to think about sitting on it. You could see why you had spent so much time at the Camerons growing up.

“I assume there’s a dress in that box? I recognize that brand,” she said, gesturing to the dress Rafe had bought you.

He’d offered to carry it inside for you when he dropped you off, but you had protested. You could tell that Rafe wanted to argue, but with one last unreadable glance towards your house, he relented. You looked at the box with a tight smile, and a nod.

“Yeah. It’s for-.”

“Midsummers,” she finished. “I know you don’t remember, but you and Rafe always did go together.”

“Rafe told me.”

She chuckled to herself, turning around to get out some ingredients. Your father had mentioned something earlier about his favorite dish before disappearing upstairs. You found yourself so interested in their dynamic.

“Of course, now, it’s different,” she said with a satisfied smile thrown over her shoulder. “Rose tells me that you two are finally together.”

Gossiping mothers shouldn’t have surprised you, and you didn’t know how to respond, so you simply nodded. Your mother hummed to herself.

“That boy has held a torch for you for as long as I can remember,” she said more to herself than you. “I’m glad to see that you’re finally with your own, leaving that God awful phase behind.”

Her words made you frown, and at your silence, she continued.

“He comes from such a good family. He’s well brought up, and it’s so important to surround yourself with the right people, you know…”

This conversation was steering into a lane that you didn’t like, and your frown deepened.

“Not sure I follow,” you told her, playing dumb.

You watched as she shook her head, turning to get something out of the fridge.

“I know you don’t remember, and I guess it’s a blessing in disguise that you don’t. I sure wish I could forget some of my more regrettable flings,” she commented. “Rafe is so much better than the last one.”

Your gaze was intently fixed on her, now, and she threw you a comforting smile. You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say. Was she saying what you thought she was saying? Had Rafe been right? Had that drunken rant been more than just the jealous ramblings of an intoxicated man?

“The last one…?”

“That one from The Cut.”

Her words made your heart drop, and your skin started to warm up the more she said.

“Always getting into trouble, a lot like his father from what I’ve heard and-.”

“Are you talking about JJ?”

She tasted the food, nodding with a hum as she pointed at you.

“That one, yes.”

Your mind was going a mile a minute, and while some things made more sense, others only became more jumbled. That memory from last night came back to you. Your secretive smiles, the heat in your stomach with just one look from him, and the discreet brushes of skin.

“I…told you…?”

You found that hard to believe, and your mother laughed. Really laughed.

“Of course not,” she said with a shake of her head. “Despite what your father and I thought, you still brought him around. You insisted that he was just a friend.”

Her eyes finally met yours at that, and her smile lacked humor. The disapproval was clear as day in her eyes.

“…but I am a mother. I saw the way you two looked at each other, heard him sneaking into your room at all hours of the night…”

Your eyes widened at that.

“I was young once. I knew… I looked the other way, and hoped it was just a phase. Some doomed desire to tame a troubled guy.”

Her laugh was mocking, condescending, and you pressed your lips together. She reached along the counter and patted your hand like you were a child.

“…but we must all learn, hmm?”

She turned her back to you again, and you clenched your jaw. Silence stretched between you, and swallowing down a sigh, you removed yourself from the kitchen. Your legs were shaky as you climbed the stairs, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, and you didn’t know what to think anymore.

So, Rafe hadn’t just been jealous…he’d been right. You had been with JJ, or at the very least, sleeping with him. The only problem was that you didn’t know if you’d been with Rafe at the same time. It would certainly explain Rafe’s anger, his protectiveness of your relationship, and a feeling washed over you that you didn’t like.

Could you really do that to Rafe?

Or maybe you hadn’t done anything wrong, at all, and you were getting ahead of yourself. Nothing was making any sense, and you could feel your frustration growing, head pounding and heart racing as you sat on your bed. You let your head fall into your hands, desperately trying to will all of your memories to come back to you.

You needed things to make sense.

With a huff, you hurried to find something to sleep in. Your mother’s words, what she’d revealed to you, haunted you. You couldn’t get in your shower fast enough, the warm water doing what you’d hoped and easing some of the tension in your body. Not quite ready to rejoin the real world, you took the time to wash your hair, detangling it and washing it twice.

It helped with your nerves.

When you got out, the towel was tight around you. The cool air met your skin, and you shuddered. You thought you heard a slight noise in your room, and when you opened your door, you found that you were right. You jumped at the sight of Rafe sitting on your bed, pressing your hand to your chest.

He smiled at you, and you struggled to return it.

“Your mom let me in,” he explained, blue gaze dragging over you, lingering on your exposed skin.

You thought about what she had said, about you sneaking JJ in, and your eyes drifted to the closed window.

“Oh,” was all you said.

“Are you happy they’re back?” he wondered, watching you reach for your clothes.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you sighed, and Rafe pressed his lips together at that. “They are exactly what you said they were.”

Rafe reached for your hand, slowly pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your palm. He gazed up at you from beneath his lashes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said with a shrug. “It’s not your fault.”

You were desperate to change the subject.

“Why are you here?”

Rafe snorted at that, frowning up at you with narrowed eyes.

“I can’t come and see my girlfriend? Make sure she settled in okay?”

You swallowed at that.

“I mean, this would’ve been the first night in months that we slept in separate houses. Never mind, separate rooms…”

You tilted your head at that, his word choice standing out to you. Rafe noticed, sighing to himself as he looked down, playing with your fingers.

“My dad and I… Well, you know how it goes between us,” he finally told you.

Your face fell, heart falling too.

“Rafe…”

He looked up at you, eyes troubled.

“I just had to get out of that house, needed to see you.”

He pressed his forehead to your stomach, and you ran your hand through his hair. His hand met your waist through the towel, and he pulled you down to sit next to him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Rafe studied your face for a while, running his eyes over you and drinking you in. His curved into a small reassuring smile.

“Nah,” he whispered, reaching for you.

His hand was on the back of your neck, and before you knew it, he was pulling you into a kiss. You kissed him back, both wanting to comfort him and distract yourself. You wanted to ask him so bad what had really happened, wanted clarification on the sequence of events, but a part of you was afraid to. What if Rafe confirmed your fears? What if you had been a terrible girlfriend? What if you had cheated on him with JJ?

You didn’t think you could make him look you in the eye and relive that.

On the other hand though, what if that wasn’t the case? What if you’d simply been with JJ before Rafe? What if it was just a simple case of Rafe feeling like he’d lost the most important person to him? Or genuinely trying to look out for you? You thought about that memory with the necklace, where you’d been so mad at Rafe, and it was easy to surmise that Rafe had feelings for you then, and you clearly didn’t reciprocate…or at least didn’t want to.

It was too much to theorize over, and you decided to put yourself out of your misery and just ask Rafe when he pulled you closer, practically on top of him. You made a slight noise of protest against his lips, gasping when one of his hands cupped you through your towel, fingers grazing your ass. You pressed your hand against his chest, turning your head away.

“Rafe,” you harshly whispered, glancing towards your door as he kissed down your throat.

He groaned against your skin, hand pushing the towel up.

“I need you,” he murmured, and you felt your skin grow cold.

You were torn between sympathizing with him and wanting him to leave. He rolled you both, roles reversed as he made himself comfortable on top of you. You could feel yourself panicking, and you wracked your brain.

“Rafe…Rafe, stop, my parents…are right down the hall,” you panted, attempting to make eye contact with him.

His dirty blond hair hung into his face, and a smirk danced along his lips as he brought his hand up to brush over your mouth.

“I guess we’ll have to be quiet then,” he breathlessly chuckled.

You swallowed at his decisive tone, frowning at him.

“Rafe…come on,” you weakly pleaded.

“I thought you trusted me,” he said.

“I do,” you hurried to reassure him.

“Okay…so, trust me,” he slowly whispered.

You called his name again, and Rafe swallowed the sound with a kiss. It’s like he was trying to inhale you, and you struggled to breathe, pushing against his chest both for a reprieve and to try and talk to him. Rafe was a man with tunnel vision though, his strength alarming you as he pinned your body beneath his.

With his own legs, he spread yours apart, and you shuddered when the cool air hit you. Rafe’s hand slid in between your bodies, parting the towel as he went, and you bucked against him when he dipped his fingers into you. He hummed at the feel of your tight walls clinging to his fingers, and he wasted no time before moving them, pushing them into you to the hilt before pulling them back out.

His other hand slid around your neck, circling it and holding you in place as he sat up. He lowered his head, gaze focused on where his fingers disappeared into you, tongue darting out to touch his lips. Your fingers dug into his hand, fighting to bite your tongue while also trying to get him to talk to you.

“Rafe…”

He shushed you, staring at the movements of his hand before straightening and kissing you again. In the quiet room, you both could hear how wet you were, the squelch of his fingers as he plunged them into you again and again. He stroked the fire in your gut, nipping at your lips and then your jaw. He ravenously thrust them into you, thighs growing sticky from your own arousal, and your eyes rolled when Rafe rolled his wrist, swirling his fingers around your walls.

You heard him curse, hand tightening on your throat, and you could feel yourself starting to shake. You were close, and Rafe noticed, letting go of your neck to shove his fingers into your mouth. You whimpered, stomach tightening and tightening until you came around his fingers, your moans muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Rafe breathed, watching the mess you were making.

You didn’t even noticed when he’d let you go, pulling his fingers out of you too. You were too focused on catching your breath, trying to get your head to stop spinning when you heard fabric fluttering to the floor. When you glanced up, Rafe was nearing you, just as naked as you were, and you hurriedly sat up.

Whatever protest you had was hushed, his fingers meeting your lips as he pushed you back.

“Rafe,” you hissed for more reasons than one.

“Relax,” he drawled. “It’ll be fine, just keep it down.”

“Rafe-!”

You were cut off by his hand at your throat, and his lips were at your ear as he held you down.

“Relax,” he quietly repeated, his other hand fumbling between you. “I know you’re nervous…and scared…but it’ll be okay.”

“I-.”

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your cheek just as you felt the tip of him poking at you.

He wet the head of his cock with your arousal, coating himself in it and stroking himself.  He kissed along your neck, humming to himself and ignoring the feel of your hands pressing against his arms. When he started to push his way into you, you tensed, breath hitching as you squeezed him. The moan that Rafe let out was low enough so only you could hear, and your lips parted when he bottomed out.

Rafe’s arms shook, forearms pressing into the bed now as he held himself above you. His chest was heaving, and the same shallow pants leaving you also climbed out of his throat. He held himself still, eyes falling closed and basking in the feel of his cock fitting snugly inside of you.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, lips grazing your cheek as he leaned in. “You know that?”

You involuntarily lifted your hips, and you gasped the same time Rafe hissed. His breathing evened out, and he placed a few kisses on your neck, sighing to himself just as he reached down and dug his hand into your hip.

“Hold onto me,” he instructed. “Hold onto me.”

Feeling like you had no choice, you did, pressing your hands into his back just as he pulled his hips back. You gasped again when he thrust into you, his pace slow and torturous at first. Your bed lightly shook beneath you, and Rafe’s breath mingled with your own as he kissed you again. You had no choice but to take his thrusts, walls clinging to him with every movement.

Rafe kept a hand on you at all times, holding you to him while he fucked you. With your parents down the hall, it was hard to keep quiet, taking advantage of every kiss as you mewled and moaned into his mouth. Rafe swallowed them all, groaning against your lips and slamming his hips against yours. At some point, his pace became brutal, his cock repeatedly hitting a part of you that had you squirming.

You reached down to press your hand against his lower stomach, trying to get some reprieve from the mind-spinning thrusts. Rafe slapped your hand away, immediately grabbing it and pinning it by your head. His hold on your wrist was tight, and you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to quietly navigate the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re okay, baby,” he whispered from above you. “You can take it.”

You threw your head back, nails digging into the palm of your own hand. Rafe was in his own hand, focused on the feel of you tight and dripping around him, choking his cock and stroking him better than his hand ever could.

When his hand slipped under your thigh, bending your leg and pressing your knee to your chest, your free hand pulled and tore at your sheets. Your chest arched into his, and you couldn’t swallow down the choked gasp that escaped when he let your hand go to do the same to the other. Rafe towered over you as he thrust into you, looking down at his cock pushing into you, stretching you and dipping into you from a new angle.

“Rafe…I can’t…”

He seemed to understand your lack of explanation, and your eyes watered. Your nails scraped your bedding, and he leaned over, making you gasp just as he covered your mouth with his hand. It muffled your whimpers, and he placed one of your legs over his shoulder. He grinded his hips into yours, and your eyes rolled, struggling to catch your breath.

You could feel that familiar coil tightening deep in your stomach, toes curling as your climax started to creep up on you. Rafe felt it too, chuckling to himself at the feel of your walls tightening. He moved your other leg onto his other shoulder, and Rafe’s fingers dug into the bed on either side of your head. Stars were starting to appear in your vision, and you turned your head to the side, biting your tongue so hard you tasted blood as you came.

Rafe cursed at the feel and at the sight, praises coming from his lips as he continued to fuck you.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

When you came down from your high, you were gasping for breath, struggling to push against Rafe’s arms. He suddenly pulled back, your legs still thrown over his shoulders as he dug his hands into your hips. He pulled you to the edge of the bed as he stood, and he turned his head to kiss your ankle.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you,” he growled, nipping at your skin.

Your head lolled, and the look in Rafe’s eyes told you that he was going to make good on his promise.

When you woke up the next morning, it took you way too long to even remember where you were. Your whole body ached, and when you turned over, coming face to face with Rafe, you remembered why. He was fast asleep, and you stared at him for a long time, just drinking him in and thinking over the previous night. You sat up with a wince, eyes falling to the floor and landing on the clothes you’d intended to put on last night.

You struggled to do just that, limbs protesting with every movement. Rafe didn’t stir as you slowly moved to the window, looking outside into the yard with a grimace. Your neck felt like it was on fire, and you didn’t need to look into the mirror to see what it looked like. You reached up, brushing your fingers over your skin and wincing.

You didn’t feel like stepping out and facing your parents, completely put off by them. So, seemingly alone in your childhood room, you made your way to your closet. Rafe, exhausted and knocked out from sex, hardly counted. You eyed the clothes left in there and the boxes on the top shelf. A book that you assumed you’d read caught your eye, and you reached to grab it. It wobbled, falling past your hand and hitting the floor.

Rafe’s breathing was still even when you turned around, and your eyes fell to the book by your bed. Bending down, you reached for it, about to stand up when something caught your eye. The smallest box was hidden behind a few pairs of shoes, and you frowned at it. You checked to make sure that Rafe was still asleep before reaching under your bed and moving your shoes out of the way.

You struggled to crawl back, wincing again as you sat down, shoulder leaning against your bedframe. The fact that it was hidden, seemingly by you, piqued your interest more than anything. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked it over, and deep in your mind, you recognized it…only you didn’t know what for.

When you opened it, gaze falling to the contents inside, your mouth fell open.

It softly fell out of your hands, the polaroid pictures falling all over your lap and the floor. There were dozens of them, no doubt taken with the light blue polaroid camera on your dresser. You stared at them, pain flaring in your temple, and you shakily reached out to them. Your eyes were wide as you flipped through them all, each one shocking you more than the last.

Every single one featured the same two people.

You…and JJ.

It was the same face from your memory. The same smile, the same eyes, and his hair the same shade of blond that you’d seen at The Wreck that day. The longer you stared at the pictures, able to really study him now that he was before you, your breath hitched as you realized where you’d seen that exact shade of blond.

It was the same hair from that intimate memory in your bedroom. The shade of blond that you had thought belonged to Rafe. The same shade of blond that had been walking away from you the day of your accident, anger and sadness and regret pouring through you the further away he got.

You brought each picture closer, throat incredibly tight as you studied them. In some you were sitting on his lap, a wide smile on his face as you kissed his cheek. In one, you two were laying down together, heads touching as you pointed the camera towards you. One picture in particular grabbed your attention for several reasons, and you dropped all the others.

JJ had you in his arms as he sat on an unfamiliar couch, sticking his tongue out as you gave the camera the finger. However, you were more focused on the three rings on his hand, three rings that you recalled from a memory that you thought was Rafe. Your eyes watered, breath shaky as you stared at the same picture, gaze zeroing in on a familiar black necklace around his neck, a shark tooth hanging from it.

[mywebfoot]

In Every Winter Night, Part 4 (Marry My Husband Fanfic)

Author's note: Don't read this in the office. Really. Don't. Part 4 of 4.

--

Ji Hyuk

In the car, Ji Won sat quietly in the passenger seat. The day was over, and they were crossing the long bridge south, headed home. The highway lights passed over her rhythmically, sweeping over briefly before going dark again.  Ji Hyuk glanced over occasionally, drawn by the high line of her nose, and the exquisite shape of her lips.

He'd always thought she was beautiful, but as her confidence and assurance had grown she became regal - a queen of her own destiny, wrenching victory where others would lie defeated. He’d been attracted to her before, for her protective, nurturing side. But this, this fiercer side, was new. In recent weeks she had fundamentally changed, no, morphed, tearing her way out of old skin, to emerge like some sleek creature prone to laying quietly while hiding vicious fangs.

It made him weak in the knees. 

He knew his feelings had left like, and love a long time ago, and was dangerously close to full on worship already. 

Like this evening, at the all-team meeting. Ji Won had been killing it with her presentation, developing her proposed marketing strategy with layer after layer of data, anticipating objections and pushing back with iron-clad logic that showed she had already considered the pitfalls. He knew he sounded like an all-out nerd, admiring the genius of her analyses, but a part of him would always be the guy with the thick glasses and the cheap haircut. 

And this was despite being turned on all day by the naughty idea she had planted in his mind. 

Speaking of which, his heart had nearly stopped when, about 10 minutes into the presentation, she had paused. Then she had looked him in the eye, and said, “It’s quite warm in here, did someone turn up the thermostat? Give me a second while I take off this jacket.” His eyes had widened and words he could not say rushed through his mind, stomped screeching brakes and ended up a steaming 4-lane pileup in the middle of his brain. Which then proceeded to melt as her hands reached up to peel her jacket back and off. He couldn’t help it, his eyes went right to her breasts. 

Or… where her breasts would have been if they had not been behind some kind of …band? Ji Hyuk knew little of women’s fashion, but whatever she was wearing under her white shirt, it had no straps. Instead, like a censorship smudge, the pale material slashed across her torso, redacting her body safely and snugly away from any prying eyes, including his. He looked back up at her laughing eyes. 

He had nearly had a heart attack, and there she was laughing at him. He wanted to end the meeting right there and drag her off somewhere to smack her pert behind for the sheer torture she had put him through today. Speaking of which, he glanced over at her again, seated in his passenger seat, once again bundled in all the layers that winter dictated.

“Did you enjoy it, half-killing me today?” 

Ji Hyuk glanced at her face, and saw the rueful smile. “Maybe a little.”

His eyes turned back to the road. “It seemed like a lot more than 'a little',” he teased.

He heard the rustle of her moving, and from the corner of his eye he saw her unbuttoning her coat. 

“Too warm?”

“Yes.”

Something in her tone made him glance over. 

Then he gasped. He white-knuckled the steering wheel and somehow steered them across two lanes to the safety of the rode shoulder. An offended horn blared past, the driver flipping them off. Their car came to a shuddering, jerky stop as his foot spasmed on the brake.  

“Ji Won-sshi” was all he could say. His eyes were glued to the front of her shirt, where the chill air had made her nipples thrust into the placket of her silky shirt.  The material clung, and he learnt that she had slightly up-tilted breasts, with a generous undercurve. She was perfect.

“Touch me. Please,” she whispered, “- I..” Her voice shook, but her eyes remained trained on his. “I need you to touch me. You promised me it would be this week and all I did was think about how it would feel if you would just put your hands here.  All week, the slightest touch would make me hot, and I couldn’t stand it any more. So I wore the the tube-top today, just to have a thicker barrier than my bra.  But just now I took it off and-” and then she moaned from the heat of his hand.

He had cupped her. It was a very public area, and he wanted to protect her from prying eyes, but he couldn’t deny her, not when she was pleading for his touch. With shaking fingers, his left hand covered the luscious curve of her right breast, gently petting her. Experimentally, he squeezed, wanting to know how her flesh would give under his fingers. The car filled with the sound of desperate gasps for air, his, hers. 

Insistently, she arched her back, thrusting both breasts into the yellow street light slanting in from the windscreen. He could see the faint darker shadow of the tempting peak. With his index finger, he trailed an admiring touch over the insistent nubbin. Her body jerked, and the slight jiggle in her breasts broke him. His hand slid down to her waist, jerking her forward and burying his face between her breasts. He groaned and turned to mouth her. 

When she felt the wet lave of his tongue Ji Won’s body spasmed. Hard licks flicked her nipple through the shirt, followed by the desperate scrape of his teeth over the soaked cloth. She thrust both hands into his hair and pulled him even closer. “More, Ji Hyuk-sshi,” she whimpered. 

In the next second he was gone. She opened her eyes to protest. His face was grim and his hair stood up in tousled spikes. The fingers that until seconds ago had been loving her, gripped the steering wheel. He stared fixedly ahead as he fought to control his breathing. 

“Ji Won-sshi,” he growled. 

“Listen to me carefully. We have three and a half minutes before we reach home. For three and a half minutes, I will have to fight this damn erection and the urge to grab you. It will take everything I have.” 

He spared her one searing glance, taking in the wet, almost translucent spot on her shirt. His jaw worked and he determinedly pulled his gaze back to the road. 

“You, will now button up, and stay buttoned up. Do not move, by all that's holy, and do not make a sound or our first time will be on Seongsu Bridge, Seoul at, “ he glanced at the dashboard clock, “seven thirty-eight p.m.” 

--

Ji Won

Ji Hyuk would be a desperate but thorough lover.

That was the only thought in her head as they tore into the basement car park, and drunken parked across two lots. He got out, slammed the door behind him, and marched around to her side. She was out before he could get to her, tugging her firmly buttoned coat into place. His eyes were dark, narrowed, and the frown across his wide brow would have been intimidating if she had not known that she was the cause.

His hands came up as if in surrender. 

“Do not touch me in the lift, Ji Won-sshi. Please.” His voice came out low and strangled, but at least he could speak. She could not get a word out past the tightness in her throat. She just nodded once. 

He pushed his hands as deep as they would go into his winter coat pockets and turned, leading the way to the lift lobby. His long, urgent strides made his coat flap behind him. He stabbed at the lift button, then he turned to watch her as she caught up. She prayed no one else would get into the lift. They would smell the sex in the air. 

Finally, finally, the doors opened on his floor. Again he strode in front of her, leading the way and opening the apartment door for her to enter. The door clicked behind them and his hands came up to grasp her arms. Oddly, he didn’t pull her in, but instead leaned down to examine her face. One eyebrow lifted. 

“Are you sure?” he rasped, the arousal in his voice still apparent. “We can still just play, as much as you want. Just count what I said earlier about us making love as the madness of the moment. I want you, with every fibre of my being. But only on your time. If you turn around and leave now, I will take a cold shower and deal with it. Do you hear me, Ji Won-sshi? It only makes sense for me when it makes sense for you.”

Ji Won reached up and pulled is hand away, one, then the other. They dropped to his sides. 

Then she lifted her chin, kept her eyes on him, and slid her coat and jacket off her shoulders. It hit the floor. His eyes narrowed, his breath quickened, but still he waited. 

With the tiniest tremor, she reached up and unbuttoned her shirt. One button. Two. And then the rest. The silken barrier whispered open. She watched him stare at her, and saw his eyes devour every inch of exposed skin. His gaze slid down,  tracing her creamy cleavage, before it reached her taut belly button. She put one hand on his forearm, still in his coat, the bunching muscles underneath twisting at her touch. She slid her hand down, till she could twine her fingers with his. 

She led him to his huge sofa, tugging him behind her. “Sit,” was all she said. 

He sat, putting his head even with her breasts. They had not turned on the living room lights, so the only source of light came from the city laid out below them, a wintry blue outline on every surface of the room. Boldly, she slipped out of her shirt, and it slid down her shoulders, the material catching briefly on the tips before it sighed to the floor.  He swore, and stared fixedly at her exposed breasts. Her nipples stood proudly, turgid and flushed, as they had been all day.   

“Take me,” she breathed.

His hands immediately came up to span her waist. He tugged her near, and opened his mouth over her, but this time nothing was protecting her from the searing sensation of his slippery, sensous tongue on her. Their moans filled the air. Breathing became difficult and she whimpered and squirmed in his arms. The scratchy roughness of his coat brushed the skin of her uncovered back and arms, almost overwhelming her with the stimulation. 

Her fingers dug into his wide shoulders, and she buried her nose into his hair, breathing in his spicy male scent, some beguiling mix of Yu Ji Hyuk and clean soap. She drove all her fingers through his silky hair, guiding him from left to right and then back again,  as he tugged and loved her breasts. She couldn’t help it, and writhed and squirmed back and forth, unwittingly pulling her breast out of his mouth with a soft pop.

Now, the only thing holding her steady were his strong hands, spreading restlessly over waist and  back, sliding over her skirt-covered behind to drag her body over his. 

She wanted to straddle him, but her pencil skirt didn’t have much room. So she reached down and tugged it up. Ji Hyuk felt the motion and he leaned back to relish the incoming view. Her body was bisected by a tight band of black pencil skirt, with bare, glistening nakedness above, and a tempting wisp of lingerie below. The tiny, silky triangle of white lace protected her, for now. He swore, and whispered his desire for her, telling her in shocking details the things he wanted to do with her, in that low rough-edged voice. He was  factual, specific and to the point, as was his style.  She was scandalized, but his words made images form in her mind, of sweaty tangled bodies, of his muscled back as he thrust into her, of pure pleasure. 

“Do you want all that, Ji Won-sshi?” he half-groaned the words. “Or tell me it’s too early and we’ll stop now.”

She shook her head desperately, pride schooled by her frantic need for this man. "More."

With a deep growl he wrapped her legs around his waist and stood up. One muscled arm wrapped around her waist, the other grabbed her behind. 

He put his lips to her ear and rasped, “To the room then.”

--

Ji Hyuk

He wanted badly to make their first night special. But that was when he still could think. 

Now, as he laid her out under him, he could only act. He shucked his jacket, frantic hands throwing everything to the floor with abandon. He toed off his shoes and fumbled and tugged his shirt over his head in the same motion. She just lay in bed, her lithe curves outlined by moon and city lights, wickedly half-dressed with her skirt around her waist and the little triangle of lace winking at him as she raised one knee. His pants and underwear were flung away and he joined her in bed. 

He twisted his fingers around the tiny scrap of lace and tugged hard. It ripped and he was not sorry. Something feral had woken in him when they met again in 2013, and it would not be soothed. Their little seduction agreement had unleashed that underlying monstrous need for her. Their love play had merely whetted the beast’s appetite. She opened her legs with a gasp, he immediately sunk in and everything, everything became searing white heat. 

Her fingers dug into his back, clutched his butt and she arched,  half-crying as she came. The ridiculous speed of her orgasm surprised him, and his body went rigid. He groaned senseless, begging words into her ear, fighting for some shred of control as her inner muscles throbbed and pulsed around him. She writhed sensually under him milking him thoroughly.

He tried to last a little longer, tried to keep grinding his hips to maximize her pleasure, but just like her, he went down.  The waves of lava heat burned through him and crashed over him, drowning him in the smell, shape and red spice of her. His hips jerked wild and uncoordinated, his chest and belly slid against hers and he came blindingly hard. 

--

In every winter night, In every summer day, In the flights of spring, in the spirals of fall, You're in my minutes, in my meals, in my shoes, In the big, in the small, You're my everything, my all.

--

Author's note: Well. Ahem. I was trying to give them a beautiful first night to remember. But Yu Ji Hyuk happened. He gave me a tiny smirk and he whispered in her ear, and there went all my plans.

I really wanted to finish this before the finale, so please excuse typos and weird transitions.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

[shiroikabocha]

favorite part of talos principle??????

I procrastinated forever on this ask, sorry. The answer’s kinda sad. But it’s also, like, deeply true and important to me as a person, so.

My mom died at the end of 2013, concluding a truly impressive any% cancer speedrun. Less than 90 days from first symptoms to last. I loved her a lot. It was a bad time.

2014 was the worst year of my life. I became convinced that human consciousness (or at least, my own human consciousness) was not an inherent good. Not an inherent bad, either, just… the nature of the human brain is to want to continue existing, and to be incapable of continuing to exist. It’s not a system that’s designed to function without pain. It’s not a system that’s designed. Consciousness hurts. Being a conscious, physical creature in an unpredictable physical world that has no obligation to make coherent narrative sense hurts.

(I miss my mom. It’s a problem with no solution.)

And then there was this video game. And it had this guy (gender neutral) in it. And this guy was like: you’re so right, bestie. Making sense of existence? That’s a loser’s game. Can’t even get to I think, therefore I am without coming up against some truly gnarly logical conundrums—almost enough to make you wanna invent a big invisible sky-friend who gives you all the answers and reassures you that you’re important and good, right? But that’s stupid. You don’t want to be stupid, do you? You want to be smart. Like me. Smart means you’re better than the people who need happy little answers to all their silly little questions. You don’t need them. You don’t need anybody. That’s the great thing about nothing—it’s so beautifully consistent! When nothing means anything, there are no contradictions. Trying to understand your place in the cosmos—asking the question “I exist; what should I do with that fact?” and expecting to arrive at an actual, functional answer—is a sucker’s game. The only winning move is not to play.

I can’t really explain what it felt like to see my own feelings repeated back to me so clearly, so accurately, and at such length—and for my reaction to my own worldview to be seething fucking hatred. When I started playing The Talos Principle, I was a pessimistic nihilist. I did not perceive myself changing into something different until I was screaming at my keyboard FUCK YOU, my existence has meaning because I CHOOSE to imbue it with meaning and I do not FUCKING CARE if it doesn’t make sense, some things are more important than being flawlessly logically correct and ME HAVING A REASON TO LIVE is ONE OF THEM

(when your internal logic answer to Why should I stay alive? starts out as My life is a precious gift given to me by God and it is not mine to throw away, and then your understanding of the world changes in a way that no longer incorporates an ontologically-existent God, sometimes you wind up with: Why should I stay alive? Answer: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And that answer really only works as long as nothing terrible happens. It does not hold up well under stress. When you take god away you do have to put something else in its place, and it’s not easy to find something else that can hold up under the weight.)

Like… it would be an oversimplification to say that The Talos Principle made me want to live again. But it wouldn’t be too much of an oversimplification to say TTP forced me to acknowledge that I didn’t currently have a good reason to want to live, and that felt bad, and I owed it to myself to fix it. And that if I could hate this fucking asshole librarian so so much (because he was me), and still feel so much compassion for him by the end of the game, then maybe I could figure out how to feel compassion for myself, too.

Also I really like the puzzles where the solution is to zwoop around all over the place with fans, those are my favorite

[f0xgl0v3]

Powers in Camp Jupiter

Wow I’ve posted a lot today lol-

Finally! Another long, ‘Camp Jupiter general Hc’ post. I’ve just been thinking a lot on powers the more I’ve been dipping my toes into learning about Rome and its culture and how I want to incorporate that into New Rome and Camp (literally I mention it once so don’t get any hopes up for like in depth Ancient Rome stuff and it just affected my thought process for how the Romans might think similarly to powers as they did other things). Also this is another post going, ‘this is a weird thing in camp that is never explained but doesn’t make sense to me so this is how I’d go about explaining it’ post, enjoy :]

But first things first; I think Camp puts a heavy importance on physical skill, that powers are somewhat frowned upon. That Camp Jupiter would put a higher importance on someone’s capabilities without the powers, and that power usage is something that generally the Camp doesn’t like acknowledging- I’ll go more in depth on what I mean but first I wanna talk about how I got to this conclusion making sense in my mind,

This did make sense in my brain because it fills the little gap where we don’t see a lot of Camp Jupiter power embracing or whatever. We get Hazel being worried over her powers because of the like cursed aspect? Which is a whole other can of worms that I don’t like the plot point on- but whatever. Hazel’s thing feels weird that she wouldn’t explain it, now I am obviously not a Hazel analyzer- but I do have a pretty solid characterization of Camp in my head and I feel that is something that they would 100% want to and need to know. Along with the apparent lack of notable power usage in Camp Jupiter- we don’t see it in the same way that we see over at Half-Blood, now this could be because Camp has like 0 important characters. But I feel like during the war games there would be more people taking advantage of powers, where it’s specifically called out when Percy is doing it because it’s odd in the setting- it stands out (yes it probably was called out for Rick to be like “Look at how cool and powerful Percy is guys!” But whatever-) but that bleeds into the first gorgon chase scene, where it’s notable that again; it’s only Percy using his powers openly, it’s the legionnaires that are looking on in bewilderment, confusion.

Of course there are the 4 main outliers I think of about this power thing; Reyna, Jason, Octavian, and Bryce Lawrence. But I’ll talk about what I think their situations are.

Anyway, I believe this seeming power-aversion in camp Jupiter (was probably not planned and Rick just kind of forgot about Demigods and how probable it would be that they’d display them more often for the general quality of life improvements they’d give-) could be caused by a couple factors,

The abundance of Legacy’s at camp and at New Rome; we aren’t sure how legacies work (because they are all over the place and we never get set power levels on them) but it would make logical sense that powers became more niche or less potent through generations (this obviously has outliers, and its own holes but I’ll justify this take in another post probably just about legacies-) and this would lead to less and less importance on powers- because why would a community see them as important when the majority of them don’t have very potent ones, or very general ones and it’s more simple to just not use them than hone either a very weak skill or a very niche skill.

The importance of Strength in New Rome and Camp Jupiter’s community; based partially on Ancient Romes importance on Masculinity (which I will not be mentioning much because I am just a silly black cat on the internet and I don’t have the knowledge about Romes masculinity thing) and just what we see from the very concept of Camp Jupiter’s go through Lupa’s training and survive or die, Camp Jupiter’s no magic barrier of protection, the military camp. Conquer or Die. It all places a very big importance on one’s personal strength- their strategic mind, physical prowess, ability to work together as a unit in the army. That the powers could possibly be seen almost as a cheat- that why would you use your powers when you have your training, are you weak? Do you not trust in what you’ve been taught? The Societal idea were given for the Romans is strength- and why use your powers if you are physically capable enough. And everyone is physically capable enough to be a Roman, to Conquer or Die.

Okay on a probably lighter note (idk I was reading the upper passage and that sounded pretty intense-) but also the fact that powers just feel like they wouldn’t be a good thing in Camp’s military settings. Camp Jupiter puts its importance on their military and fighting prowess, their form, the discipline. It’s much harder to fight in coordination if everyone is doing anything that isn’t related to other skills. The fact that the Cohorts aren’t godly ancestor-specific adds to that. So it just doesn’t seem reasonable knowing Camps whole thing.

Okay those three all are my ideas on the surrounding factors that make powers less used and more taboo in Camp/New Rome. This could explain why camp doesn’t display their powers. While it gives more reason for the reactions to Percy other than everyone being suprised at how cool and powerful he is or something idk, it gives Hazel more reason to hide her precious riches power thing.

Now the Outliers, people in camp that comfortably and openly use and display their powers (not including Percy, maybe idk- we’ll see)

First Reyna; we know that Reyna openly used her Bellona strength, warrior spirit and bravery sharing powers that also take away pain? Idk how they explain it but we get that in BoO the knowledge that when leading the Romans into battle Reyna would use her powers. I think this can be explained away by 1st off it’s not that noticeable so might be likely that the legion doesn’t even know she did that, secondly it could be considered that they considered her ability a outlier to the notion- it directly helps them win so I guess they don’t mind, sure they’ll be upset about it but they won’t openly object to it.

Secondly Jason and his wild skill set; he’s Jupiter’s son, pretty much Lupa’s adopted kid and Camp’s prince. They’d let him do whatever, he’s Jupite’rs son! I think they’d be super hypocritical and think him and the powers make him stronger and cooler and whatever because he’s Jupiter’s son and canonically we know they put him on a pedestal and thought he pretty much could do no wrong when he was younger so I think it’s reasonable to assume legionnaires would go along with Jason pulling lightning bolts from thin air and just going, “That’s so cool Jason!!! Yeaaah you go man!” And then turning around and ostracizing someone that used like their water-bending because like- why not just use your actual skill, no need to be a show off, y’know Dave from the 3rd cohort could’ve done that just with his Pugio and a bendy straw.

Octavian; it’s his job. I think Augur’s generally get a pass because it’s their job to be all mysterious and otherworldly and do all the cool retelling prophecies and omens. And he needs the powers to do that so of course he gets a pass.

Bryce Lawerence; he’s a freak (nicely, I love him) but he gives 0 crap if people don’t like it. They can just go to the fields of punishment for all he cares. He literally murdered someone and lit a cat on fire. There is no way in Hades that this man cares about some power taboo. If he wants to do it he’ll do it and if anyone wants to say anything they can suck his spear handle.

Overall; Camp Jupiter are Hypocrites when it comes to powers (obviously, I feel like for many reasons they are hypocrites in many other fields-) and this gives better reason that Octavian and Micheal didn’t immediately drag Percy into the 1st cohort. Because like- you know they would’ve and I think that would’ve been more interesting than the 5th cohort underdog story (like, Hazel and Frank could’ve been the main pushers of that plot and I feel that would’ve been cooler-)

But if we want to stay with Percy being put in the 5th (which if anyone wants to know for my re-imagining he is totally put in the 1st because that gives us an opening to actually characterize notable characters a lot more-) this powers thing gives a reason. All the legion knows about this kid is that he’s got a mouth on him, attracts monsters like a neon billboard with a giant arrow on it, and relies on his powers constantly. And in Camp Jupiter where obedience and discipline are cherished, they don’t need to deal with any more monsters their hands are already full, and that everyone like collectively hates their powers from societal norms. It makes more sense that none of the more notable cohorts would want to tarnish their names or reputation by bringing him on board- so of course the 5th is forced to take him.

Okay that’s my rant on how the community of Romans don’t like their powers unless they can serve a purpose of aiding the army, your the child of Jupiter, or it’s your job.

I am sleepy and therefore I bid you all a good night.

[miscellanyofmusings]

Rifftrax Sentence Starters

“______, didn’t I dispatch you to hell earlier?”

“ ______, shut up forever.” 

"Alright. That does it. I officially have no idea what we're looking at, why we're here, or even who I am anymore."

“And I pray that I never have to emote any more than I just did. I'm exhausted.”

“And if you're ready, _____, may I offer you a wide-awake nightmare?

“Aw man, I thought we could trust the slimy loser.”

“Being a creepy evil creep is a reward in and of itself.”

“Bland? I mean, honey? Can I make you some bland milk? I mean, warm bland? I mean, warm milk?”

“Careful, they might miss at you.”

“Die! Die in a fire! Live again and then die!”

“Did you guys just see that or has my brain fully melted?”

“Do you think you can do me the teensiest favor and just kill me now?”

“Feels like an NPR audio essay is about to break out.”

“Forgive me, Father. I killed like eight guys today.”

“Fuck you. Pay me."

“Having knowledge about things is not really my specialty.”

“He died as he lived: looking dumb as Hell.”

“He has all the fighting skills of a sock monkey."

“Hell is other people and stuff.”

“I’m condescending for no reason, got it?” 

“I've tried nothing—And it's not working!"

“I can’t answer your question because that would acknowledge you exist.”

“I can’t live with myself knowing there’s something out there I haven’t murdered.”

“I don’t want to oversell it, but it will fill you with sadness.” 

"I find words difficult because I can't punch them."

“I have a two part question. One, will I ever feel joy again? Two, what did I do to deserve this?”

“I hope you like really tough burnt meat and shitty scotch.”

"I love it when a plan sort of slowly congeals together."

“I thrive on your ignorance.” 

“I tripped and fell up five flights of stairs and landed here.”

“Is your torture basement even up to code?”

“It’s not what you said; it’s that you exist.”

“It irritates me too that I can defy logic, time, and physics."

"It is pleasant to be happy because it increases our amount of gladness."

“Let's carpe diem and mumble and mope like we've never mumbled and moped before!”

“Mind if I dial up the gay?”

"Never have I cared so little about so few for so long."

“Nothing calms a kid more than a poster of a deranged clown.”

“My philosophy is to see how many Pop-Tarts I can eat in two minutes.” 

“No, don’t, ____, please! Seriously! I will kill all your enemies! Please!”

"No good story ever starts with ‘so there I was, pouring gasoline all over the dead girl’s body.’”

"Oh good. Something else for the Gallery of Things That Should Not Be."

“Oh, thoughtless sociopath, you’re my best friend.”

“Okay, so I’ll take that ominous cryptic answer as a firm yes.”

“Our hero— again, fighting like a sociopathic four year-old.”

"Please don't ruin this moment by surviving!"

“Rush in blindly! A plan can only hinder us!"

"Screaming? Laughter? At this point, what's the difference?"

“So where do you think you’re gonna dump my body?” 

"So…You give up here often?" 

“Society as we know it would disintegrate if people knew the truth about whatnot.”

“Thank you, most boring sounding person in the world.”

“That’s a very friendly murder threat.”

“That sounded a lot more menacing and less gay in my head.” 

“This is my bullshit lecture!” 

“Wait a minute, I thought you said ‘pass the time,’ not ‘destroy all hope in the universe.’” 

"We are reconciled now through the cleansing power of violence."

“Well, that was neither fun nor interesting, but at least it gave us no new information.” 

“Well, time to pretend I know stuff.”

"Well, whoopty-shit."

"Welp... Forgone conclusion ain't gonna forgone conclude itself."

“Who can resist an asshole?”

“Women, right? Always like, ‘This seems fatally stupid!’ Blah, blah, blah.’”

“Yeah, I do feel my own mind drifting through thoughts of Socrates—in that I want to drink hemlock and die.”

"You're a lying liar who lies! You lie!"

“You're not allergic to severe acid burns, are you?”

“You taste like libertarianism and cigars.”

“Your evil is reassuring.” 

“Your violent, misogynistic criminal vibe lets me know I can trust you.” 

[zoeykallus]

Ohhh HC time!

How would TBB and let`s see: Maul, Fox and Kit Fisto ( I just had to add 3 others hehe ) and how they would reach to their sweet lill lady wanting to adopt a pet?

Ohhh kay!

:)) Pets! Love pets! Let's see if the batchers do too!

The Bad Batch /Maul /Fox/Kit Fisto x FemReader HC's - Adopting A Pet

Mostly Fluff

Hunter

"A pet?"

You nod eagerly.

"I don't know love"

Hunter is hesitant. He may be fond of animals and nature, but taking care of an animal is a certain responsibility, he knows.

"But I don't know where else to take him. He was injured, his pack left him behind and-"

"Wow wow wow, slow down! You already have an animal? His pack? What are we talking about here?"

"A wolf pup."

Hunter's eyes widen.

"Cyare! Are you out of your mind! Where are you hiding him?"

You lead him to your bunk where a small dog pup sits. Hunter laughs in relief.

"That's not a wolf, honey. That's a puppy dog."

You play surprised.

"Oh. We couldn't have kept a wolf?"

"No, absolutely not"

"But we can keep a dog?"

"Yes, a dog is quite different"

You kiss him on the cheek and beam at him.

Hunter blinks.

"Wait a minute… you tricked me"

Your smile turns into a wide grin.

"But I did it with love"

Hunter sighs, but can't resist your smile or those cute puppy eyes.

Echo

He is not fundamentally averse to the idea, but he has reservations and wants you to deal with it and think about it rationally. The life you are currently leading, as mercenaries and on the run from the Empire, is precarious and unsteady. There are some animals that do not fit into such a life and also some that cannot stay for a long time in closed spaces like a spaceship in space. Then there are some that would not survive hyperspace and so on.

His objections are unfortunately logical, conclusive and finally discouraging.

Still, he surprises you when he arrives one day with a Loth cat.

"This one can go to its own bathroom, stay inside for quite a while, and is quite independent. You were so sad when we realized we probably wouldn't have a pet, so I thought again."

You stroke the cat and give Echo a long, loving kiss. He smiles contentedly.

Wrecker

Wrecker is fond of animals. Very much so. But he suggests the wildest things, including even a Nexu. You actually have to slow him down and talk to him for a while, because he jumps from one wild idea to the next.

As he suggests a ranccor you sigh wearily.

"Honey, come on be reasonable," you say a little impatiently by now.

However, his pout softens you again immediately and you gently kiss his chin.

"Honey it has to be an animal we can keep on the Marauder. We are on the road a lot."

In the end, Wrecker persuades you to go with him to get one of those colorful birds that can be taught to talk. To your discomfort, Crosshair has taken a liking to secretly teaching him swear words. Whenever someone turns off the lights, he says, "Bantha Ass" and when the lights come on, "Stupid Hunter," repeatedly.

Tech

Unfortunately he is allergic to pretty much everything that has fur. Dogs, cats, horses even nexu. Tech has already started to teach Wreckers bird some things and to exhaust the animal's moderate intellect.

But you insist on getting your own pet. However, you can't think of much, since most animals are eliminated for various reasons, not just his allergy.

While you're still thinking and racking your brains, Tech has already got something. He arrives with two cute mini turtles.

"Don't need much, easy to take care of, quiet and allergy-free," Tech says contentedly as he sets up the massive terrarium in your cabin.

You had actually imagined something else, but somehow they are cute and Tech is so enthusiastic about his idea that you don't want to contradict him.

Crosshair

He is a cat guy. You are sure of that. He resists your desire to have a pet, Crosshair tells you quite clearly that he is against it.

"I don't want to have a critter to take care of. I'm fine with my brothers and my needy little girlfriend."

You roll your eyes and snort. You turn away, but the last word has not been spoken. You just get a cat and you can count on it, he'll be grumpy and upset about it.

However, he will cuddle with the cat, they will be very fond of each other and Crosshair will take care of the animal, gladly even. But if you catch him doing that, he will give you a sharp look. It takes quite a while until he admits that you were right.

Maul

Pets he doesn't have directly, unless you count the Nexu he tamed. However, he is not very cuddly. The Nexu is more meant to scare and hurt enemies. But Maul likes the animal, he takes very good care of it and is concerned about its safety.

In fact, you are afraid to get another animal because the Nexu might eat it. You will not get Maul to break away from the ravenous animal.

Unfortunately, it looks like you'll have to give up your desire for a traditional pet.

"You can pet the nexu too".

Fox

Fox is the type for cats or ferrets. You will most likely not be able to make something else appealing to him.

He likes independent animals that do not require much care. Fox works a lot, generally does not have much free time and a pet in constant need of care is rather counterproductive. He will most likely already have a pet cat when you meet him, a well behaved animal that he can take to the office.

It is unlikely that you will get other animals together except maybe a second cat.

Kit Fisto

The Nautolan is close to nature, especially to water. No surprise when you consider what race he belongs to. Fisto finds pets rather unnatural and therefore it is difficult to unlikely to convince him to have a pet. Even ornamental fish, even if he finds them beautiful, do not please him.

"These animals swim in their confined tank all day long, it's a depressing sight"

If you have your own apartment and pets, he won't find fault with that. However, he's not thrilled about it either.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

[hypatia-s]

Main family’s compound security *sucks* - do you agree?

So. I usually forgive plot holes, I’m not nitpicky. I usually handwave continuity things away, or illogical things, or whatever. I’m here for the pretty boys in overdramatic situations. Reality can go out of the window.

And yet. 

And yet.

In Kinnporsche, the main family’s compound is rumoured to be this highly secure place, the pinacle of security for a family that call themselves paranoid; with multiple protocols, high tech, lots of guards on every little corner. They have their own bodyguard twunk factory, guys. 

And yet, security *sucks*. 

So much. So incredibly much. Glaring sirens in my brain. It actually pulled me out of the story sometimes, my brain like: wtf is this person doing here. Apparently, one can swing by at any time and there is no one at the door, or anything at all. Free pass, everyone. 

Ken goes to the minor family house on a semi regular basis. For a place with strict in/out protocols, no one seems suspicious. No cameras detecting his presence in a hallways at times he shouldn’t be there. Nothing. Nope. Nada. 

Vegas goes to visit Porsche at the swimming pool. Much has been talked about the absolute unhinged behaviour that both display (re: Porsche grabs the champagne glass from the flat bottom; Vegas takes off his boots and then goes, pants legs and all, into the *water*). But no, what worries me is the following series of events: 

1. the dangerous, psychotic, murderous cousin of the family just swings by, late at night, and uninvited. No one detects him. No one stops him. 

2. Goes by the pantry, steals a champagne bottle. No one detects him. No one stops hims.

3. Goes to the place where they keep all the nice glasses, plates, spoons, forks and *knives*. Grabs a couple of delicate glasses. No one detects him. No one stops him.

4. Walks around the entire compound looking for Porsche. Presumably passes by the bodyguard sleeping quarters. Finally goes into the training swimming pool. No one detects him. No one stops him.

5. Finally sees Porsche, a bodyguard, someone that is supposed to ensure security. Porsche, instead of doing something logical, like “wtf are you doing here, I’m informing Chan”, proceeds to drink champagne instead. Porsche doesn’t even remark on the pants on the water thing. Both are crazy and enable each other in their unhinged behaviour. 

6. 100% sure Vegas leaves the champagne bottle right there, for the cleaning staff. No one reports it to anyone when they clean the pool the following morning. He leaves also a trail of water that reeks of chlorine in his way out. No one hears the splorch splorsch splorch as he leaves. No one detects him. No one stops him. 

7. No one checks the cameras, either, apparently. 

Pete comes back from his “holidays” in Vegas’ den of iniquity. A man, who is supposed to be dead, is clad in dirty, bloody clothing, and looks like several garbage trucks ran him over, goes inside the compound unseen and unstopped. Passes by the entrance unseen and unstopped. Goes into the family garden unseen and unstopped. The garden, where, I may add, the two oldest sons of the family are currently standing. The bodyguards reaction upon seeing him is to cry from happiness. 

Also, i’m not in the mafia. But if my head bodyguard with access to highly sensitive info disappears for weeks when he’s going to the enemy’s lair, comes back with clear signs of torture , and tells me a bold lie like he’s gone to see his grandma, I would not be taking him out for drinks, I would be extracting what kind of info he gave our enemies.

Look, I’m sure there are more examples, but these literally made me go: these people really need a security consultant. 

Opinions, please?

[leaf-kei]

Hello! Love your Time squad posts ! Canon wise: do you think Larry was in love with Tuddrussel? What about XJ5 being in love with Sheila idea ? I really love checking for canon evidences it is so fun

HI!!!! I AM SO SORRY it took me so long to answer you ;__; My bad... I wanted to wait until I could give this ask my Full attention (tbh I've had Team Fortress 2 brain worms for weeks and have been unable to focus on anything GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT).

I'm so glad you like my posts! ;w; In general, I don't think things need to be canon to be worth thinking about & exploring creatively... but buddy? Larry being in love with Tuddrussel? That is IN THE SHOW. I can't stress enough that this HAPPENS in Time Squad. I would venture to say Larry wanting a loving relationship with Tudd and Tudd not giving it to him is a reoccurring theme (along with history and slapstick comedy and. gender roles, weirdly??? tune in for THAT essay later lmao). You may have seen it already, but I compiled a bunch of my favorite TuddLarry moments in a video here! It also includes moments where Something Gay Happens On Screen no matter what characters are involved... I know it's all there for comedy, but for the most part, the gay jokes in TS don't feel like they come from a hateful place to me. Everyone gets made fun of equally in this show... it has that kind of mean-spirited early 2000s humor lol

My absolute favorite underrated TuddLarry canon moment of all time is in A Thrilla At Attila's. In Tudd's fantasy recollection of the mission, Otto and Larry look up to him as a great leader... it's VERY CUTE that Tudd's dream is to be genuinely admired by them 😭 BUT at one point, the fantasy Larry (who is inexplicably wearing a tutu) swoons over Tudd with little hearts over his head while Tudd is fighting some other guy?! THIS IS IN TUDD'S FANTASY HE WISHES THIS WOULD HAPPEN

U know what, I'm gonna take this opportunity to ramble about family commitment as a central theme of the show!!

- Otto is literally adopted by Tudd and Larry (Larry calls it adoption in Kubla Khan't), and Otto's addition to the squad forces their business-only relationship to change. Time Squad is (at least partly) about three very different characters navigating a new family dynamic formed by chance.

- They naturally fall into typical sitcom family roles: Tudd's the manchild fun dad, Larry's the homemaking strict mom, and Otto's the sweet kid who's trying to keep the peace... their personalities clash as they try to live and work and be happy together. It's significant that they're alone on the satellite they live on; with no one else from their own time period around them while they're at home, they're isolated with one another like a family unit in a suburban house. Even though they fight, they grow to love each other over time... what's that thing people say about hate and love being two sides of the same coin? I feel like Larry's love for Tudd manifests as anger a lot of the time—he gets upset whenever Tudd doesn't measure up to his ideal of a domestic partner. Is that healthy? Idk, probably not, but that's the way it is for them (at least in the two seasons that exist 👀).

- Of course, family commitments aren't always harmonious, and for these guys things are chaotic MOST of the time... but no matter what historical figures they meet or temptations they face, at the end of the day, they always come back together. They're a family, it's as simple as that. Otto doesn't need to have a logical reason to turn down George Washington's offer to adopt him in Father Figure of Our Country—no one can replace Tuddrussel, and that's it.

So tl;dr, Time Squad is about two men adopting a child and having a domestic committed relationship, and it uses that setup to tell funny stories and introduce fun conflict !?? And it's all in a cute art style AND there's HISTORY??? Cartoon Network should ABSOLUTELY bring it back and make a new season HEAR MY PLEA

—Of course, I think Tudd and Larry's relationship developing into a romantic (but still wacky) one would be a great setup for such a new season! But that's just my post-canon fantasy ;^) ... and what all my fanart and little writings are about lol

ANYWAYS HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Edit: SHIT I forgot to mention XJ5!! I ADORE the idea they have a crush on Sheila, that's my headcanon too!! BUT instead of being a jerk like Tudd is to Larry, Sheila is only ever considerate and nice and professional and friendly to XJ5 🤲 And XJ5 is so awkward with social situations (a real Robot's Robot) that they have no idea how to approach these feelings or how to articulate them at all... they could use a few lessons in human behavior from Larry hmmm?

[ashintheairlikesnow]

💌 for Kauri please? (hmm possibly with Owen hmmm)

(Also, from Anon: (I'm not sorry for who ever gets involved with this) 💌 & Owen - apology sex

CW: Owen is an abuser and uses abuser logic, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, domestic abuse, pet whump, box boy, bbu, dubcon

-

Sometimes, there are moments like this.

"I'm sorry," Owen says, and lays a hand on his back. Kauri doesn't look at him, keeping his chin resting on his knees, arms around his legs. Tears still blur his vision, hot and demanding, even as his eyes ache and his head throbs from the ones he's already cried. His lip throbs, one his wrists is already bruising visibly, only a few hours after Owen's hand had been closed around it. "Hey. Kaur-Bore... you hear me?"

"I hear you," Kauri whispers, but he doesn't look. If he looks into Owen's green eyes, he'll fall all over again, and he knows it. The warm hand at his back rubs gently, up and down, and Owen shifts closer, leans in to press a kiss to his hair. Kauri has to lock his jaw to keep from tilting his head into it.

"I wasn't thinking," Owen says, lips barely moving against a black curl. It makes Kauri shiver, liquid warmth pooling inside of him. "I wasn't. It was stupid of me, Kauri, so stupid of me. I was the rocks for brains this time, yeah? Not you, this time it was me."

Kauri takes a breath and tells himself Owen doesn't mean it. He never means his apologies. His eyes closed, he pretends he's somewhere else, with someone else, that it isn't going to end the way it always, always ends.

Apologize. Hurt again. Apologize once more. Round and round.

"You nearly broke my arm," Kauri says. His voice stays steady. "Right in front of the neighbor down the hall, you nearly did."

"You're my pet, it's none of his fucking business what we do." Owen sighs, moves around in front of him. Kauri senses the shift in the weight on the bed. When Owen's hands are on his, he lets them be pushed down to balance himself, lets owen slot between his legs. The sapphire and white-gold necklace he wears for a collar shifts, too, a jewel in the hollow of his throat. Owen pushes him onto his back, and Kauri doesn't stop him, but he doesn't go eagerly either.

He keeps in mind his swollen bottom lip, bitten to bleeding. The ache in his arm, wrenched nearly out of its socket. The terror as he'd been shoved back into a wall.

"I was just saying good morning," Kauri says. He can feel Owen looming over him. "I don't even know his name."

"Kaur-Bore." Owen shakes his head, and there's a patronizing little smile in his voice that Kauri can see without ever having to open his eyes. "You and I both know that you don't have to know anybody's name to be a little slut around anyone hot. I know what they train Romantics for."

Kauri's chest twists in a new kind of pain. "Mr. Owen... I'm made for you."

"Yeah, because I'm the one who keeps you here. If I let you walk away, you'd be sucking off some guy on a park bench in a week or less. It's not your fault, Kaur-Bore, it's just how you're made."

Kauri swallows, again and again, until all the words that clump together in his throat are forced down. He forces down the tears. He forces down, beneath that, a white-hot anger that he cannot afford to show. "You hurt me," He says instead, and there are so many layers to those three words he knows Owen can't begin to hear.

He just wants to be loved.

He wants to stop having to force down his thoughts and pretend they don't exist.

He wants-

He wants to say good morning to a neighbor without feeling eyes on his back and a hand closing tight around his arm.

"I know." Owen is quiet, and then takes his hand and pulls the bruising wrist to his own mouth, kissing along the place where you can damn near see fingerprints. "I know I did. I'm so sorry, Kaur-Bore. I'm so sorry. You were just saying hello, right? You didn't mean anything by it."

"I didn't-... I didn't. I just... wanted to pretend, for a second, that-... that-"

"That we're a real couple?"

Kauri opens his eyes, and catches the lopsided smile Owen wears, bittersweet and with some anger Kauri can't quite fathom underneath it.

"I wanted to pretend that, too. I wanted to be a real couple," Owen says, voice low. "But I have to settle for pretending, like this. Pretending is hard, Kauri. It makes me... makes me angry, sometimes, having to pretend. That you're not the real thing."

If being called a slut had hurt before, then being reminded that they aren't even really a couple hurts far, far more. "I'm not him," Kauri whispers, and his own anger rises, too.

"No. You're not Vince. But... but we can pretend. I can be better at pretending." He rubs a thumb over Kauri's swollen lower lip. "I bit you. I'm sorry for that, too."

Kauri might like hearing it if he thought it meant he wouldn't just be bitten again, and apologized to again, over and over until nothing means anything unless it's touching him.

"Mr. Owen..." He's going to crack apart. Shake down into powder, disappear entirely. He throws his arms up around Owen's shoulders, and feels the way Owen briefly tenses and then relaxes down on top of him. Covering him with his weight, and warmth. He can feel Owen from forehead to knees. He isn't alone. Not here. Not right now. "Please. Please just... let's stop talking about it, okay?"

"Okay, okay. But you believe me, right? That I'm sorry for losing my temper?"

Kauri swallows.

No.

"Yes," He says out loud, with all the sincerity he can fake. He's an amazing liar.

All the sluts like him are.

Owen grins. "Good. Good, good... now... let me show you just how sorry I really am..." He kisses Kauri's jaw, over his neck, sucking on the skin there until Kauri starts to move against him, rolling his hips in short little lifts. They both start to harden, and when Owen pulls back to take Kauri's shirt off he raises his arms. He drops his hands down to undo Owen's zipper. Their mouths meet and his lip burns where it burst but it doesn't hurt as badly as the bright hot pain in Kauri's chest.

He buries himself in it, in his hand moving against slick hot skin, in Owen's hands pushing his legs up, bent at the knees until he's nearly in half. He loses the pain to cold slick liquid on fingers inside of him, to the pleasure of Owen using one hand to open him up while the other strokes him off with steady certainty.

Owen kisses him, and he moves his tongue just right. Arches his back in a perfect show of lust, lust he even makes himself feel, after a while, because being wanted, and wanting, is better than facing what his life really looks like.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, Kaur-Bore," Owen whispers against his hair, deep inside of him, hitting just right over and over until Kauri scratches fingernails down his back and cries out for more. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, I won't hurt you again."

Yes, you will.

"I know-... I know-... Mr. Owen, please, h-harder-"

At some point, he forgets the pain entirely, and all he feels is Owen's skin hot and sweaty, his own electric and charged like lightning at every lingering touch, and the way he is so full of Owen there isn't any room for anything else.

"I-I love you, Mr. Owen-"

"I know," Owen answers. The headboard rocks against the wall in time. "I know, I-... know, fuck, good boy, Kauri, good boy-"

The loneliness in him is buried by the overwhelming crest of pleasure and the way he calls out Owen's name.

In the middle of that single moment, he... almost does believe that Owen really is sorry.

Maybe Owen believes, just for a moment, that he's Vince.

Maybe they're both pretending this is real.

-

@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @burtlederp @nonsensical-whump @whump-tr0pes @autophagay @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[hajihiko]

do you have thoughts on izuru post sim? ive seen a few headcannons here and there where he disappears, or hajime develops a sort of alter ego/DID situation. im curious how he would play into the survivor dynamic you've got

Ok this is gonna be based on absolutely nothing but bear with me

1. Ideally, I would WANT Hajime and Izuru to be pretty merged, but still separate? Seperate, because I just think the concept of talking to the seperate entity in your mind is such a cool trope (in a fantasy/sci-fi setting, no real logic behind it, dont wanna be insulting towards people with actual DID). Merged, because I like the idea that Izuru would have some of Hajime's thoughts and feelings and he could re-learn what it's like to have feelings and friends 🥺 BUT that could potentially mean Hajime shares some of Izuru's lack of life luster, which is fittingly sad but.....haji....

It's like the best scenario for both of them I think, they sorta blend into each other but they can still be more this guy or more that guy, but they're pretty content

2. the other idea is that they sorta, fight to pilot the same vessel sometimes? Mostly Izuru doesn't much care about it, and Hajime is Player 1 by sheer force of will (which he has a lot of!!) But Izuru jumps out in moments of panic of where Hajime loses control, and it can be a little hard to get them to switch back. Which is a little scary bc Hajime may be pretty superhuman but it's all muddled into his shitty little normal human brain, and Izuru is 100% power 100% of the time.

(sidenote, Hajime having shit like super strength and super intelligence, but sometimes he forgets?? Like he needs to focus to apply talent and still remain himself, and sometimes it slips and he drops an entire car or something.)

This lends way to a fun "learning to live together" narrative and some drama!

Maybe first situation 2, then situation 1? Happy ending?

As for how it fits into the group;

I like the idea that Hajime might hide how much Izuru is still around, because drama, but he can't hide it for long because FRIENDSHIP. obviously his friends will love him regardless, but it might be a little scary to see your friend blink away and a blank slate of immense power pop out.

Akane would be on him right away because she can just tell there's something more to him. Her gut doesn't lie! But no one fully believes her at first :( she gets to have a great I Told You So moment. She kind of catches on that Izuru isn't...a SUPER huge threat, so she's chill (maybe too chill. If Izuru chose to do something bad, she wouldn't notice because of how non-emotional he is and it'd really fuck with her confidence in her senses.).

Souda wooooould probably be very distrusting of the whole thing. Like he's supportive of Hajime ofc but he does not like that there's a whole seperate guy (not really) who can spy on them. Souda is already such a suspicious guy, and I think at the end of FTEs hes like "ok don't make me suspect you tho hahaaa" but he comes around eventually. Probably loves that Izuru-side can do basically anything, great help with carrying heavy machinery!

Fuyuhiko is a very loyal dude and might take it a little far tbh? He's like "I wanna talk to HAJIME my friend HAJIME and no one else" and Hajime is like "ok I appreciate that we're still friends but I can't..make him leave. You're just yelling at *me* right now." I think he'd be the one to treat them the most as seperate people, which is sometimes good and sometimes bad (might relate Izuru to Peko and insist he's his own person lol). But bless his heart he tries real hard to let Hajime know he's in his corner.

Sonia is always a little hard for me so I have no idea about her tbh. I guess maybe she'd relate to Izuru a bit for being made into something he's not, the whole "useful first, human second"? She might actually think the whole thing is really cool and grill both Hajime and Izuru about the details of their situation.

Ok talky over I have no idea if this is gonna make sense I woke up like an hour ago lol

[ifellinlovewithpersona]

Okay so here is my draft I saved once but I was scared to publish before and my elaboration to my previous post that no, I don't headcanon Demi Fiend as violent without a reason person who just kill everyone left and right, sorry if it might be a little harsh, I was kinda pissed when I wrote this because I saw bad (in my opinion) reddit take on him haha

(and Nocturne fandom please don't slaughter me for this 😭 it's only my opinon!)

Warning: Extremely unpopular and controversial opinion down below, read on your own risk - you have been warned

Okay idk if it's something wrong with me and my autistic brain didn't fully understand the concept of SMT Nocturne the first time I played it or is Demi-Fiend actually the most misunderstood by fandom megaten protagonist?

Like I read the reddit thread today (edit: at the time I was written that draft for the 1st time) about what do you think would happen if SMT and Persona protags had a chance to meet (like not fight, just meet and be able to talk) and almost everyone were like "oh Demi Fiend would kill everyone on first sight for breathing the same air as him" and also in other fan media like in fan fiction or some fan comics I often see him, both in his Demi Fiend form but even sometimes in his human Naoki Kashima form, being described as an extremely violent or aggresive guy?

And I genuinely think I'm insane because I feel like I'm the only person in megaten fandom who doesn't perceive him that way at all?

Like for me Demi Fiend is actually more like this large dog - yes, he looks scary, yes if provoked he can and will harm you but actually he would most likely to leave you alone if you had no intention to fight him?

Like unpopular opinion but I think V-kun/Nahobino has actually more potential to be a violent or dangerous rather than Naoki himself

Like in the game we can see that Naoki seems to be very guillible boy, highly intelligent in logic and math things but having a complete lack of awarness in social situations (I actually headcanon him as autistic because he shown a lot of characteristics of person in the spectrum imo and maybe that's why I can relate to him so much lmao) . But not really violent in nature. Like imo he is shown in the game many times he had a soft side - like the way he treated Pixie or Manikins (like for example, if he really was as violent as fandom describes him, he would probably kill the Mainikin kid on the spot for magatama instead of actually complying to his terms and taking an effort to solve that damn puzzle boy game)

And also I feel like many people forget that actually almost everything that happened in Nocturne (maybe besides the ending stuff) wasn't Demi Fiend's choice at all? Like he wasn't given a choice when Lucifer showed the bug down his throat, he was manipulated by Hiriji to work for him, got used by Isamu and Chiaki as well, then he was also tricked into Lucifer's little Menorah Fight Club as well and only was told a truth when Lucifer already taken the last bit of humanity he had (although I have a theory he might have been not 100% succesful since even after being locked in TDE I noticed some dialogue choices implying that perhaps something "humane" still stayed in him even after technically getting rid of human's soul)? Like literally almost everything wasn't his concious choice, in contrary to V-kun/Nahobino for example where almost every choice in SMT V was his own, concious decisions he had made - so yeah, that's why I think V-kun might have more violent tendencies in himself than Naoki, even if that seems surprising.

I'm not saying he's 100% the saint, but also I think his character is really flattened to only being this "violent, punching everyone around him demon boy" and misunderstood by fandom imo (or it's just me, maybe I didn't understand SMT Nocturne's message or something or maybe I just have a blorbo bias idk🤷‍♀️)

So yeah TLDR: Maybe I'm insane but I'm gonna defend this boy until the day I die, give him a break lol

[stars-and-darkness]

WIP WEDNESDAY!!!

week #6

this week, i thought we might do something a bit different, guys. this isn't technically a wip, as i don't believe i'll actually ever finish it. t's the first piece of tvd writing i ever did, over a year ago now, and i got some 2.5 k words in before i realised that it's not really going anywhere? so the chances of me picking it up again are pretty slim, but i thought you might enjoy reading what i have anyway. looking back on it, it seems that my love of the idea of liz adopting a bunch of mass murderers some 950 years older than her started early, heh.

but also, like, keep in mind this was early on, and that i didn't have as good a grasp on characters as i do now, lol.

happy mother’s day

Liz Forbes’s relationship with her daughter has been at an all-time best since Caroline became a vampire; she thinks she’s finally getting the hang of this whole motherhood thing. So naturally, she does the next logical thing and decides to adopt the first generation of vampires.

Their parents were shitty anyway.

.

Years ago now, Liz Forbes had read an article. She remembers it only vaguely; it was not a good time for her. Bill had left to chase his happily ever after or whatever with his boyfriend, and Liz had been left alone—scorned by the closed-minded conservative circles that made up most of Mystic Falls’ social scene, and with a daughter to take care of. A daughter who, as the days went by, sunk deeper and deeper into teen-typical moodiness, until what little understanding there was between them before Bill left was turned to dust.

The article was full of technical jargon she could not comprehend, and longer and wordier that it needed to be in order to convey its intended sentiment (at least in Liz’s opinion). It spoke of teenage brains and amygdales and other similarly confusing things. In the end, Liz was left with the dreadful piece of information that made all the years ahead of her dealing with her own impossible teen seem even more daunting.

Human brains fully develop at the age of twenty-five.

.

The first time Liz meets the infamous Klaus, he is the last thing on her mind—because not too long ago, Matt Donovan had carried her daughter into their house in his arms, weak and shivering, the skin at the crook of her neck torn and oozing sickly.

Still, the part of her mind that is still the Council member—and, oh, how ridiculous the premise sounds now, when her own daughter, her precious, precious Caroline is a vampire in her own right and happier than she’d ever been as a human—that part appreciates that she stands here in front of the ultimate predator. The monster monsters fear.

Klaus speaks, and it’s with a quiet, soft, oh-so-compassionate voice. He looks younger than Liz had imagined him, and so much sweeter; with his kind words and his golden curls and his dimpled smile. Monsters should not look like someone had taken all the finest features off the church cherubs and hewn a person from them.

And his request—oh-so-reasonable. Her support in the future, in exchange for Caroline’s life. Inviting him in in exchange for Caroline’s life.

She doesn’t even have to contemplate what her answer to his ultimatum will be.

When she is sure enough that he is gone, Liz stalks upstairs. The window of Caroline’s room gapes open; and Caroline herself rests on her bed, wan and weak, but already so much better than before. Where the ruinous bite had been on her shoulder is replaced by smooth skin.

There is still a drop of scarlet blood staining the corner of her lip.

Liz doesn’t ask any questions; she closes the window and strokes Caroline’s hair until her uneasy slumber turns into real sleep.

.

In the morning, Caroline won’t meet her eyes. Liz, who has had the whole night to contemplate just what she had invited into her home, can’t fault her for it.

(A diamond bracelet remains hidden up in Caroline’s room, with Liz none the wiser.).

The invitation is half-hidden in a way that means Caroline both wants and doesn’t want Liz to see it.

Mikaelson—it seems odd until she remembers some of Damon’s comments, and the fact that the eldest vampires in the world are actually Vikings.

It’s what is on the back that astounds her, though. Klaus’s handwriting isn’t the fancy cursive she would have attributed to him, but the blocky capital letters are in fact closer to the pictures she’d seen from the caves underneath the Lockwood estate. Runic. Because Vikings.

Save me a dance, he’d written, and though she’s only spoken with him for a moment, Liz can hear it in his accented, soft voice. Fondly, Klaus. As though there could be any confusion as to the writer’s identity in the first place.

“I can’t believe him!” Caroline rages and rants, all righteous indignation. A gown came with the invitation, layers of deep blue fabrics the names of which Liz doesn’t know.

Caroline refuses—at first—to even look at it. Liz feels mildly ill just thinking of her girl in that viper’s nest and yet—

Bill; dead. Caroline’s feelings towards the man who’d kissed her scraped knees and let sun ravage her sensitive, immortal skin will never be resolved.

“You should go,” Liz finds herself saying. “Take your mind off of everything.”

And if Klaus had wanted you dead, he had plenty of opportunity to do it that fateful night, and every moment since, she doesn’t say.

Caroline stares at her like she’d gone mad. But she goes, truly resplendent in the blue gown.

Liz notes the diamonds around her wrist. She assumes they came with the dress.

.

Caroline returns; uninjured but also somehow worse for wear. In the spirit of their newly-found connection, Liz tries to get to the bottom of the problem. It’s a blessing, this new understanding. The same part of her that warned her of the monster lurking behind Klaus’s blue eyes reminds her now, cynical, that all her daughter had to do for it was to die.

The new part replies, adamant and unyielding, that her Caroline has not gone anywhere.

“For a moment,” she answers cryptically, hair still done up and makeup still on even if the dress had long been replaced by a jumper and a pair of sweatpants, “I thought I saw the human inside the monster.”

“And he proved you wrong?” Liz asks before she can stop herself.

Caroline just shakes her head; and refuses to speak of it any more.

.

Days pass; Liz knows the Salvatores, the Bennetts, Elena and Caroline are scheming. They always are, as of late. She hates that the burden of fending off the oldest vampires in the world has fallen to children, yet somehow she can’t think of anything to do to help.

And no-one thinks to tell her everything.

One morning, she wakes to her daughter sitting listlessly on the couch, a half-drunk mug of blood in front of her.

She is dressed to entice, but her makeup is smudged, her dress rumpled and her hair a mess. Something went down last night.

“Caroline?”

“Bonnie’s mum was turned into a vampire.”

The rest of the story comes in halting pieces—a mother who had given her children eternal life now seeking to take it away, an ultimatum with Elena Gilbert’s life hanging in the balance, a betrayal of a deal—

And Liz can honestly say she doesn’t give a damn about Abby Bennett and her vampirism, because all that rings in her head is distraction, distraction, pretty blonde distraction.

“Caroline? You ... you ... a distraction?”

Caroline makes a face. It makes her look even more miserable than before, somehow.

“Klaus thinks he fancies me.” The word is odd, something Caroline herself would never use, yet Liz hears it perfectly in Klaus’s accent.

“Does ... does he?”

He can’t. That’s not how the world works, and by all accounts, there isn’t enough human left in Niklaus Mikaelson for him to ... to ...

Caroline throws her head back with a groan. “I don’t know! Maybe?” Then she shakes it, as though she’s giving up. “Even if he did, that’s over now.”

Liz doesn’t prod, but Caroline tells her anyway, fitting snugly into her embrace, her head slotted underneath Liz’s chin, like they used to do before—before.

“I used it against him, Mum ... there’ll be retaliation.”

And he has a standing invitation to our house, Liz realizes, and it chills her to the bone.

.

But the retaliation doesn’t come.

Life goes on as usual—or as usual as it can in Mystic Falls in these recent years. The mysterious murders take up most of her time, and her fear for what she’ll discover is almost enough to push the vampires and their spats out of her mind. It helps that the Originals have scattered with their mother’s failed attempt on their lives.

.

Here’s the thing, though.

Caroline may have recently celebrated her eighteenth birthday—and she’ll celebrate her nineteenth, and twentieth, and hundreds more if Liz has anything to say about it, and she does—but her body will forever remain frozen.

Seventeen.

And Liz remembers that damned article, and she realizes—Caroline’s brain will never mature to twenty-five. She’ll forever remain a teenager. What does it even do to vampires like Caroline and Stefan, stuck forever, with more experience under their belt than a human can have, aging them, yet immortality keeping them frozen in that young, young state?

It keeps her awake, sometimes.

.

The Originals all have false identities. She knows, because she’s the sheriff and things like these go through her hands, and she knows because Klaus’s place of birth is listed as London and his day of birth as January 15th, 1987. To a creature like him, those measly twenty-something years he claims to have must seem like the blink of an eye.

The sister’s, Rebekah’s, the one who stayed even after her elder brothers dispersed in the wind, claims she’s nineteen.

And Liz supposes that she is, in a way, except Rebekah has also been nineteen for over a millennium.

And it really shouldn’t matter that they’re stuck too—stuck in this odd limbo between child and adult, or that Liz keeps thinking, over and over again, that both their parents tried to kill them all in the span of a few weeks.

It shouldn’t matter.

It doesn’t—honestly.

.

Liz would like to file a formal complaint.

In the future, she would certainly like to be informed if a weapon that can kill Original Vampires has been found. Or if her friend, the resident vampire hunter who just so happens to also be her daughter’s history teacher has been turned into a killing machine with the express purpose of eradicating the vampire-kind, you know, the one her daughter belongs to.

This way, she doesn’t learn until the friend, the resident vampire hunter who just so happens to also be her daughter’s history teacher in question outs her daughter and her boyfriend as a vampire and a hybrid in front of the entire Council.

(Is the Council even aware werewolves are a thing, much less hybrids? Or are they still stuck on vampires? Oh, to be that oblivious again …)

She learns that Klaus is successfully desiccated and stuck in a coffin on its way to be dropped into the Atlantic when she is informed that Elena Gilbert will wake as a vampire in a matter of hours as a result of his sister’s vengeance. Then the Council kidnaps her daughter, Caroline somehow gets away, Elena completes her transition, and twelve people she’s known since she was a girl die in a gas explosion.

She doesn’t have time to celebrate Klaus finally leaving their lives for good before she sees him strolling casually down the street they live in, hands in the pockets of his probably-exorbitantly-overpriced jacket. His eyes meet hers, and he smiles in a way that reminds her precisely how easily his fangs can drop.

Liz runs home as fast as her very human legs can carry her, and bursts into kitchen with such urgency Caroline nearly drops the mug she’s taking out of the microwave. If it weren’t for those handy vampire reflexes, they’d probably have to spend the evening cleaning B positive out of their kitchen tiles.

“I saw—” Liz grinds out, fingers digging into the counter, “there—just—Klaus!”

Caroline turns towards the window, but the street is now deserted. Knowing the bastard, he strolled down it just to scare the living daylights out of Liz.

“Caroline! Why is Klaus not rotting in a coffin at the bottom of the ocean?”

Her daughter has the gall to look sheepish. “Don’t be mad, but—”

And that’s—finally—how Liz learns that:

Yes, Klaus had been desiccated. It took the combined effort of Tyler and the Salvatore brothers to hold him down, Bonnie’s magic and Jeremy’s sacrifice, but it had been done.

No, it didn’t last, because Bonnie Bennett would not risk the lives of her mother and friends with the Evil-Ric on a rampage. Considering that her daughter’s life was in the balance, and that Ric did manage to stab the White Oak Stake into Klaus’s heart, Liz doesn’t complain.

And, no, their Original infestation is not at an end—especially since Rebekah and Elijah returned into town to try and collect their brother’s body before they thought he’d been killed.

“And,” Caroline finishes, “I’m pretty sure Kol’s coming back, too, so …”

Liz does the only thing she can do and decides to deal with the problem after she has had a nap.

.

It takes Liz three days of cajoling to have Caroline confess to her how she’d escaped the Council, when neither Elena, Stefan, nor Rebekah herself has succeeded.

The answer, delivered in an annoyed growl, starts with a K and ends with laus.

“He was still in Tyler’s body,” Caroline continues. The pen she’d been using to write out their shopping list snaps in her hand and she doesn’t even notice. “Mum, I made out with Klaus. While in my boyfriend’s body. Why do things like these happen to me?”

Too much information. But also, the implications … “Care …”

She looks pained. “Nothing happened. He—look, I don’t want to give him any credit—gah. No. I can’t talk about this with you. You’re my mother.”

It’s not like Liz wants to discuss, or indeed, know, anything about her daughter’s sex life. “Care … are you sure? I know that—um. If you were … hurt …”

She looks supremely uncomfortable. “Mum …”

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Fine, nothing happened the other day, but …” She shakes her head. Her daughter is a vampire. There are very few who can hurt her anymore. “I’m here for you.”

Caroline gives her an odd look, and doesn’t speak again.

.

Liz doesn’t deny that she is tense. Weeks pass, and for some reason, no new and imminent threat emerges to wipe the world clean. The remaining Originals have settled down in their massive manor at the edge of town. It’s odd to think that the four of them are the most powerful vampires in the world when she sees them in the street, acting no different than regular humans. It’s odder still to remember that last year, there were six.

[bettsfic]

Hey Betts! What are some of the techniques of character, pacing, and conflict that you picked up from brba and bcs that you have integrated into your own writing? Would love some examples, if you wanted to expand on that!

so i wrote some initial cursory thoughts a couple years ago but i have had many more since then.

character/conflict

the biggest lesson i've taken from brba and bcs is the power of character choice.

i don't know how exactly i internalized the rule that you have to *force* your character to act, that if they had to choose between conflict and harmony, they'd always choose harmony because that's the more rational decision. so you box them into corners, put pressure on them, make them move. there are so many stories i've stalled out on because i was trying to figure out a way for the external conflict to pressure my character into acting, as if that's the only reason characters will do something interesting and potentially irrational. not to mention, crafting something like that just sucks. it's hard for my brain to think in that kind of logic. i'm much more interested in characters doing batshit things because they're driven to, and they can quit but they don't.

if your story exists only to build character, then there really is no external conflict. your character makes their own fate. and if your character is strong enough, the consequences of their decisions make the story. peace and harmony is always waiting for them, and they never take it.

it's easy to think of gus fring as an antagonist, but it's walter who remains on the offensive, and gus is the one defending himself. but he's defending himself with a lot more firepower at his disposal and so walt thinks he's the poor little meow meow of the situation.

at any point in brba, walt could simply stop doing what he's doing, walk away from it, and nothing would happen. he'd return to his nice house with his happy family and there would be no consequences whatsoever. but he keeps pushing and pushing, because he's driven to be the Best at something. and because he's an asshole.

in bcs, character choices are compounded because jimmy, kim, nacho, and mike are the protagonists. nacho begins the story by working with tuco, but then goes behind tuco's back to start dealing on the side. not only does he earn the salamancas' ire, but gus's too, because to gus, nacho has committed the greatest sin, the ultimate dishonor: biting the hand that feeds you. not to mention the whole trying-to-kill-hector thing. that really sealed his fate.

(nacho is a very interesting character to me because we ally with him the same way we do with jesse, except in introducing nacho, who is with the salamacas but not a salamanca himself, we have a complicating force within the salamanca family, rather than them just being the bad guys, which would be too easy.)

((god i love nacho. talk about a blorbo from my shows.))

mike gets to a point in the plot where he's laundering his own money back to himself through madrigal, and then he gets bored and shows up one day and starts poking around in security stuff, which gets gus's attention, and that's how he gets roped into being gus fring's right hand man. he could have just stayed home and hung out with his granddaughter, but noooo, he had to go Do Stuff.

kim and jimmy are both given so many outs, but they're both addicted to the grift. jimmy getting stranded in the desert? that's not lalo's doing. jimmy had to *beg* lalo to let him go pick up the 7 mil. jimmy is like walt in that we're supposed to believe he's the little guy, he's down on his luck, we're rooting for him to succeed, but he's just too deep into being a con man. the big difference between jimmy and walt is that jimmy tries to be good. but walt only ever wants to win. in the last episode, we see jimmy and walt in the vacuum guy's basement, and it's a really wonderful moment that feels intentionally metatextual, in that it's asking us to look at the differences between them as protagonists. watching it, i get the sense it's maybe the scene that either gould or gilligan had in mind to inspire the show, the thing to work up to. get jimmy mcgill and walter white in a room together (in their underwear, because it's not a brba show if there isn't a middle-aged man in his underwear at least once an episode) talking about philosophy. and walt says, "so you've always been like this." he's saying, "i fell, but you've always been stuck at the bottom."

another difference is that walt acts selfishly almost always, but jimmy is often acting on behalf of kim and vice versa. on a second watch, i noticed that *every single time* anyone said anything bad about jimmy to kim, they immediately put themselves in her crosshairs and she was motivated to destroy them. kim wexler is far and away the best character in the brba universe, maybe one of the best characters on television. it's so thrilling for me to see a female character who is so fucking feral for her husband she's willing to burn the world for him. there are so many times she physically stands between jimmy and the conflict. over and over again, she chooses him. she admires him and loves him when the rest of the world doesn't. and so it's agonizing when she leaves.

the trick to making a story wholly character-driven, and the reason it's so hard to pull off, is because your characters need to be interesting and developed enough that their shitty decisions are believable.

ever since i started reframing character/conflict that way--character AS conflict, not as separate things--i think my stories have gotten a lot more interesting and nuanced.

pacing

seasons 1 through 4 of brba, standing alone, are a pretty good show. it's season 5 that elevates it, because it's what i call a victory lap. like, they did it, they won a bunch of awards, people love it, now it's the final season, they're going all out and having a good time. and then *all* of bcs is a victory lap. it takes its time. it goes everywhere it wants to go. it feels like nothing is restrained or restricted from us. every little detail accounted for. and el camino does it too, it's a character-focused story that takes its time. i'm particularly drawn to the pacing of el camino because of how contained it is. i can't explain it exactly, but i've always loved stories that have a smooth, slow build up and a payoff and nothing else.

what's really brilliant about this universe is that every character succeeds in their mission. all of them! and the story continues and follows the characters through the consequences of that success. because the characters are so interesting and complicated, their success is complicated too. even lalo succeeds in his mission. he finds the laundry business. he tells hector. but don eladio doesn't believe hector, and don eladio is so well built that we believe it. he's totally aware of gus's revenge plot, but it's so far beneath him it's not worth his time.

i first noticed the success arcs in brba, in the scene where skyler takes walt to the storage unit of money, and she's like, there's no way to count it. no way to spend it. i just make sure the bugs don't eat it. as a banker, i was stunned by this scene, because media never acknowledges the fact that cash in large quantities is nearly impossible to manage. any time you deposit over $10k of cash in a bank in a single 24 hour period, a report gets sent to the FBI. so i loved that the show addressed the reality of cash profit. and on a metaphorical note, it's a great way to see, tangibly, that walter white has won.

by the end of season 4, walt has everything. he's in remission from cancer, he's wealthy, he's made the greatest meth the world has ever seen, he hasn't lost his family, and no one is more powerful than him. the only one who can defeat him is himself. most stories end there, the character getting what they're looking for and everything is great and we've returned to a state of harmony. but when your characters are as messy as these, it's never that simple.

while watching bcs, i actually got pretty mad at my roommate because he's like, "it's season 5 and nothing has happened." and when i said that's not true, he argued with me, and i was like, what you're noticing is a steady escalation of conflict rather than episodic conflict, which is rare for tv to do, considering most shows are fighting for each new season. we're used to seeing each episode of something have a conflict, rising action culminating into a climax. and then we see that reproduced in a larger way across an entire season, every season. but bcs is just one long, seamless story, with no major breaking points until the very end. and that's amazing. throw away the acts. the key turning points. the stages. the story is just all one thing, characters fucking around and finding out.

initially, watching season 6 as it was airing, i was disappointed by the ending. partly this is because i didn't remember any of what happened in the first 5 seasons and so i'd forgotten a lot of the context. partly it was because i was wrongly comparing it to the brba finale. but watching bcs in full a second time, i think the ending is really brilliant, because it completes jimmy's character arc. in the end, he's not saul goodman but jimmy mcgill, and he makes the right choice. all the characters in these shows are so well established and the plot honors them so well. there's so much patience and maturity here, and they also still manage to be funny too. i'm just in awe of them. they inspire me so much.

it's so rare that a piece of media is both genuinely good and widely loved. for the most part, i'm just grateful these shows exist and that i can learn from them and apply the craft concepts to my own work. but a little part of me is envious that i'll never be able to write something that well or that patiently.