#i understand if you do it on purpose but at least put a note cause it gives me whiplash to see simon be the younger brother

[lethalchiralium]

GUYS DONT FORGET THAT SIMON RILEY IS OLDER THAN TOMMY RILEY

[gilverrwrites]

Batguys when they have for the first time a vibrator put ON THEM (their dicks) by reader during sex ( they never experienced a toy on themselves before, it was always used on their girl if they were using toys).

AND I’m the same person that send the bat guys vibrators suggestion! What if the guys thought the vibrator was only for women and they’re proven other wise 😏😉

AN: I’m not convinced of them not knowing per se, so much as they’ve just never considered it for various reasons. So, in order of understood to least understood; Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Roy

Batman:

He knows full well the effects, he’s just hates to not be in control. So when you finally pin him down long enough to have your way, it’s because he lets you. When you teasingly glide the tip of your vibe along his length he purposely bucks his hips, urging you to use it on his sensitive tip, enjoying the whole commotion more than he thought he would.

The gloriously thick muscles of his thighs tense under his own self-restraint as you finally give him what wants.

“You’re taking it so well Brucie.” You coo and he glares at you from beneath his brow, trying and failing to maintain dominance but the rest of his body betrays him; his cheeks are tinted a precious shade of red, his broad chest heaving with each shallow breath.

When you praise him again; “You’re such a good boy.” He loses it completely.

Nightwing:

100% understands, but why would he ever want to use them on himself, when he could use them on you?

Then again, you’re so cute with those big puppy dog eyes, that mischievous grin when you ask to try something on him, how could he say no? And my god, he is a sight to behold. Even having seen the effect your bullet has on you, the way it makes you wither and moan uncontrollably, nothing could prepare him for his first experience.

He’s so loud, louder than you and just as unruly. His hands gripping tight to every surface, you, the headboard, the pillows, the mattress nothing satiates him. His long legs stretch, his toes curl, hips rolling and jerking for friction as his whole body shakes. Unable to muster the normal slew of filth he typically showers you with; he pants your name between obscenely breathless moans until he cums all over himself.

Side note: I swear, put this man in a vibrating cock ring, I need it.

Red Hood:

He’s just literally never thought about it before. One night you ask him to grab something from your bedside drawer and you’re surprised when he comes back holding your wand. When you ask if he wants to try it out, this is not what he expects.

Hell, if he’s not complaining though. Jason has never seen this kind of thing in action, so he’s lounging on the bed, legs spread wide as he leans against the headboard, not expecting too much.

When you tease the vibrating head along his shaft, causing it to twitch, he laughs and jokes about it tickling, but the moment you press it to the tip of his cock his whole body trembles.

“Ah, fuck baby.” He bites his lip, trying and failing to keep his eyes from rolling back. “Right there, right there, please don’t stop.”

Arsenal:

And if I may throw a wildcard in the mix;

Roy is exactly the kind of smart but dense kinda guy who could tinker away endlessly, making the perfect toys (out of equipment intended for weaponry might I add) to meet your needs, things meant to fill you in all the right spaces, to vibrate and pulse at the strength and speed that drives you wild, without it ever occurring to him that it could be used on him too.

He’s already hard as a rock and close to the edge after you’ve gone down on him, when you show him what you’re doing he lazily mumbles “Oh come on baby, that’s not gonna do anything.”

He’s proven almost immediately wrong. He’s lovingly cupping your face or holding your hair back but when he feels the vibrating sensation on his already sensitive cock his grip automatically tightened like a vice.

The skin from his cheeks to his belly growing hotter with each pulse until his body is just a few shades lighter than his hair, he’s sweating, eyes watering, begging for release and when you grant it he nearly tumbles over, legs weak and trembling.

[denwritesandcries]

gf!Shauna Shipman HCs

Pairing: shauna shipman x fem!reader

Summary: To be Shauna's girlfriend is… Something else, to say at least.

Word count: 1,4k.

Content: 96’ timeline, cursing, suggestive, kissing, kinda toxic shauna, jealousy, fluff, the team being done with u two.

Note: I think that’s probably a little too long for headcanons but I’m really glad someone asked for it cause I love writing for Shauna sm.

English is not my first language.

- You most likely only spoke to each other because you were paired up on some project in a class that you both hate. A classic, but also one of the few ways for Shauna to actively approach anyone she hasn't known for years or been introduced to by Jackie, the girl isn't very sociable.

- She definitely found the most random and stupid reason possible to not like you at first, just because she enjoys being a little hater.

- Like she doesn't want to meet with you to discuss the topic and just leaves you to do your part alone and you just do it because this quiet girl on the football team is pretty hot and also scares the hell out of you.

- When you guys inevitably put it all together she'd take one look at it and say it's shit and make you do it all from scratch again in like one night as if it was your fault.

- And you simply wouldn't understand why she decided to pick on you. She’d have a beef with you that only exists in her head and you’ll be like??? Wondering why the heck she keeps staring at you like a judging hare even after getting (surprisingly) an A+.

(that’s a strangely accurate description, but you think it fits her perfectly well. Eyes widen following you and nose angrily twitching when you pass by.)

- She has a crush on you. Since the beginning. But she has too many problems to actually admit that to herself.

- She would finally admit that fell for you when she sees you reading something by an author she loves. She's a cliché and a failure, no matter how much she tries to deny it. You'd be in the stands during one of the Yellowjackets' practices (by pure chance, definitely not because you want to watch her too), with a notebook open at your side and a book on your lap, working on an assignment for extra credit, Shauna would see you when she stopped to have some water and she wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the day.

Especially if it was something by Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson or Shirley Jackson. She’d go feral. Seriously.

- Then she finally decides to act (after some suspicious looks from Jackie and screams from Taissa for disturbing everyone during the game) and it's like she was never mean to you. She’ll literally act like she's already your friend because she doesn't know how to apologize and start something properly. Will sit next you in class – and kick out whoever actually sat there – and talk to you normally, looking away and chewing on the end of her pen, speaking in a soft and innocent voice.

- You're very much confused and a little suspicious about all this, but you're not gonna complain about it with her slowly running a hand up your arm and blinking her bright deep eyes at you. Even though she still stares. A lot.

- This is how you get a girlfriend, which isn't really what you expected at all, but it's a pretty welcome change.

- gf!Shauna who only asked you out and took you for a milkshake on your first date, even though she doesn't really like sweets, when she heard Nat tell Van that she was thinking about doing that exactly same thing and finally decided to do something (they did it on purpose, just so that Shauna would stop bothering them with her constant yearning).

- gf!Shauna who accompanies you to all your classes, sometimes even being late for hers. She is so show off carrying your backpack for you and walking close enough for your shoulders to brush and rushing to Jackie's side after opening the door for you.

- gf!Shauna who keeps a hand on you all the time, on your shoulder, on your waist, on your arm, but who is too shy to hold your hand and intertwine your fingers properly. She'll become a mess if you hold her hand in the hallways or in front of the team and pretend like she doesn't like it, complaining that you're being clingy (she won't let you let go of her hand at all though).

- gf!Shauna who is jealous and possessive as fuck, no one is safe from her, not even Jackie. She will shoot daggers with her eyes and scare anyone who even breathes near you in a way that makes her feel insecure. Especially if it's someone on the team. Lottie is usually a recurring target of her reactions, making a point of keeping as much distance as possible from Shauna on the field after she sees her talking to you.

- Will totally pretend not to care and say there's nothing wrong when you ask if she's alright, while silently seething with rage and acting weird towards you, keeping everything to herself until she eventually explodes. gf!Shauna who waits until she's alone to write shit about you and the other person in her diary with a horrible, rushed handwriting.

- gf!Shauna, with whom you have to be really patient.

- gf!Shauna with whom you have study dates where she actually makes you study because she won't admit being with someone with a poor average, but who will start kissing you pretty quick until she ends up straddling you the moment she gets tired and decides you both had enough.

- gf!Shauna who absolutely loves seeing you in the stands during practice or a game. She'll show off like never before as soon as she realizes you've come, especially if you yell or cheer for her when she scores a goal. Nat, Lottie and Tai are rolling eyes hard for you two every single time.

- gf!Shauna who takes you in her car wherever you want and whenever you want, driving with one hand on the steering and an elbow resting on the window. Who looks at you with her big eyes shining like a kicked puppy if you ever say you don't need a ride.

- gf!Shauna who has the worst, most questionable taste in movies ever and who gets outraged if you mention it or try to get her to change her choice on a movie night. She's too stubborn to change her mind, so you settle for admiring her profile and leaning back against her warm body on the couch.

- gf!Shauna with whom you have almost weekly sleepovers because her parents are too oblivious to realize there’s something between you. Sleeping in her bed under the pretext that the floor is too cold and keeping the door closed so as not to bother anyone with your teenage nonsense and loud music. It's the perfect combination.

- gf!Shauna who keeps her favorite polaroids of you on your dates alongside the photos of her and Jackie on her bedroom wall.

- gf!Shauna who's always the big spoon and loves feeling your body against hers. She's practically a furnace, perfect for hiding your face on her neck or chest. The best way to fall asleep is with her arms around you and your face buried in her soft skin.

- gf!Shauna who loves to bite and leave marks for every inch of exposed skin you have. Who bites your shoulder joint and digs her nails into your back when you have her pressed against the mattress or the lockers in the changing room.

- gf!Shauna who goes crazy when she sees you in her clothes, especially her button-down shirts and flannels. Sometimes even hides your clothes just to have the excuse to give you hers, because she doesn't know how to ask you to wear them.

- gf!Shauna who writes cheesy and lame love poems for you like a victorian poet, because she doesn't know how to express herself in words without being on impulse or in a fight. You always praise her and thank her a thousand times for them, without letting her know that you don't understand most of what she writes.

- gf!Shauna who demands you tell her you love her before she does it first. She literally asks for it. And then she only says it back weeks later, rushed and nervous, at the moment you least expect it.

[me-and-your-husband]

I’m begging for Joel fucking a bratty reader into the cosmos, I just feel like he likes a lil mama with a spicy mouth and would LOVE to put her in her place.

Your writing makes me 😮‍💨

thank you so much! 🫶🏻

i wholeheartedly believe in this omg. you see when someone talks back to him in ANY setting?? riles him up so much (which benefits me because he's fine as hell when he's all riled up and angry 🤭)

a/n: no caps on purpose. my asks are currently open! check out my ask rules and send me somethin. also, have you guys noticed i have a thing for spit 😭

warnings: smut, spitting, pet names, mentions of death, creampie, forced orgasm? kinda?, dom!joel, kinda punishment, fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, rough sex, slapping, pet names, female reader, swearing

check out my masterlist if you'd like to read more of my work!

you slammed the door behind you as you followed Joel inside his place. with no regard for his neighbours, you yelled, "i don't understand why you're so pissed off, Joel!"

he was seething, hands on his hips, jaw tight, heart pounding, tension thick. Joel rarely raised his voice, opting for a low, menacing growl when he was angry. this time was no exception. he turned to face you. "pissed off? you think i'm pissed off?" he let out a dry laugh, void of humour. "i'm fuckin' furious with you."

you threw your hands up and scoffed in mock surrender. "the fuck are you mad at me for? it's 'cause of me we got out of that fucking shitshow alive," you fumed, causing him to scowl even further.

"you almost got yourself fuckin' killed. what if you got bit? what then, huh?" he wasn't giving up anytime soon. however, something diluted the rage in his eyes. there was something gentler in their glow. something had shifted in a matter of seconds. "what if i had to...what if you got bit, and i was the one who had to..." he trailed off. you knew what he meant.

what if you had been bitten by infected, and he was the one who had to kill you?

his eyes. those fucking eyes of his. they told you what his lips couldn't say.

i wouldn't be able to kill you.

his argument was sound. you understood where he was coming from. but your dignity was more important. in the moment, at least.

"go fuck yourself. i'm just as capable of taking down infected unscathed as you are, you prick."

Joel huffed out quickly, "i don't know what i'm doin' trying to have a grown conversation with ya', when you've got that fucking mouth on you."

you opened your mouth to spew something back at him, but before you could, he covered your mouth with his hand and pushed you up against his door. "clearly you need to be taught your lesson a different way, honey. and you're gonna take it."

you fucking loved when Joel got like this. practically lived for it. taking note that the softness in his eyes has faded to something unabashedly carnal, you rolled your eyes, hoping to spur him on further.

he moved his hand from your mouth. he smacked your cheek lightly, "none of that, baby. gonna put you in your fuckin' place."

"if you're gonna fuck me, then get on with it, old man. i don't have all day," you said, plastering on a mask of boredom. in truth, the heat in your core was sweltering with the thought of what he was gonna do to you.

he grabbed your jaw. "you wanna keep fuckin' talkin'? i'll make you sit on my cock all night. won't let you cum once. mind yourself, honey. got that?" at the threat of being deprived of your release, you gave up control. you nodded fervently in his hold. smirking, he said, "atta girl. now, open wide." you knew what was coming, and you happily accepted it. he spit in your mouth, running his thumb over your bottom lip. "don't swallow. don't get to swallow 'till i say. you understandin' me?" you nodded.

"now," he said as he lifted your shirt from over your head, unclasping your bra with no deterrence, exposing your tits to the cool air. he unbuttoned your pants, dragging them down your legs and thighs, "you're gonna take everything i give you, and you're not gonna say anythin' 'bout it. gotta teach my girl a lesson." his voice was gruff, painted with a dominant arousal.

Joel wasted no time. normally he'd take his time with you, exploring the soft edges and caverns of your body with his tongue, his lips, his thick fingers. now, he slid your panties down your legs and threw them to the side, gathering one leg and throwing it over his shoulder. you were glistening.

without warning you, he licked a broad stripe from your hole to your clit. you almost swallowed his spit in your mouth at the abrupt sensation. he tasted your folds, sweet slick dripping down his chin. your moans were trapped behind your lips, but he heard them nonetheless. he pulled away, circling your clit with his thumb. "don't worry, won't make you cum' from this," he said with a grin. you whimpered, knowing he'd deny you your impending orgasm but being utterly unable to do anything about it, except maybe buck your hips into his hand in desperation.

without warning, he pushed his middle finger into your puffy hole, your juices dripping down his wrist. you began to clench around him, feeling how close you were already. "just loosenin' ya up for me, baby. wouldn't wanna split you open," he let out a dark chuckle, as if it was only funny to him. he put a second finger in, scissoring you open.

when he noticed the way you began clenching around his fingers incessantly, the moans behind your lips growing more wanton, he pulled completely away from you, standing back up. whimpering at the lost, Joel delivered a light smack to your pussy. "cut that out. behave, or you're not finishin'."

Joel grabbed you by the hips, "turn 'round." despite telling you to do it, he turned you by the hips and pressed your front against the door. you could feel his breath fanning against your cheek. his hand reached in front of you to toy with your nipple, eliciting a gasp from you. "so fuckin' desperate for my cock. what happened to that mouth of yours from a few minutes ago, hmm?" he said, as if you could answer. you were hellbent on your release after he'd denied you so cruelly.

his hands palmed the flesh of your ass. then, his hands left your body completely. you didn't dare turn to look at him, but you could hear him undoing his belt and the metal falling to the floor. when you felt the leaking head of his cock heavy against your ass, you swear Joel'll need to mop the floor when he's done with you.

"still got me inside your mouth, girlie?" he grunted. when you nodded fervently and gave an enthusiastic "mhm!", he chuckled. "that's my girl. knew you could do it. maybe you're learnin' your lesson after all," Joel said as he lined himself up with you. "maybe you'll listen to me now instead of fuckin' off like a brat." when his cock pushed into your puffy cunt, you almost bit your tongue off in favour of swallowing his spit. muffling a moan, he pulled back out. back in again, cock kissing your cervix, your cunt pulling him in deeper and deeper with each thrust.

"fuck. fuckkkk," Joel groaned in your ear. he could almost hear you begging to let me swallow, Joel. "touch yourself."

you obeyed right away, hand sliding to your clit, circling it fervently, so close (so fucking close) to that white hot release. denied the first time, your body clenched around Joel's cock within a matter of seconds, the coil being wound tighter and tighter. "swallow," he grunted in your ear.

the minute you felt his spit (and yours) sliding down your throat, moans began to fall out of your mouth like a chant. mostly yes yes yes and please, Joel and fuckkkkk. Joel felt your cunt sucking in his cock, "cum on my cock, sweetheart."

at those words, you let go, body spasming in his arms, moans unabashed and loud.

but he didn't stop. when you began squirming, Joel gave a breathless chuckle, "thought we were done? haven't filled you up yet."

"please, Joel. i can't take anymore," you whined.

"yes you can. told me you were gonna take everything i gave you, 'member?" Joel's callused fingers moved to circle your clit, lighting your nerves in fire again. your previous orgasm left your body a grease fire, and Joel was adding water. "give me one more, honey. just one more. know you can."

your hand clamped around his wrist. the hand that wasn't doing a number on your clit held your hip, cock still spearing into you at a brutal pace. "can feel you so deep," you moaned.

"gonna fill you up, then, nice and deep. i'll be leakin' out of you," Joel grunted. he was almost there. "cum with me, pretty thing."

you reached your climaxes together, every cell in your body ablaze. Joel's seed filled you up, groaning in your ear as he worked through his orgasm.

when it was over, he cleaned the slick mess between your thighs, made of both your body and his.

if this was what not listening to Joel got you, you'd have to do it more often.

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy

click here to be added to any of my taglists.

[jazeswhbhaven]

I have been save this request just for you...

Autistic MC! havd a meltdown first time in front of the kings (whether be angel raids or other reason that caused it) which causes them unable to communicate normally due to emotion overwhelming.

What will the kings do? (Honestly I think Levi will make things worse, Luci will be concerned, and Satan will like it, unfortunatly? anyways it is your decision...)

Thanks for sending this in, jennaquartz! I think this is interesting to write about as someone who is autistic and weirdly enough yesterday I had a meltdown myself....soooooo this is relevant.

Thank you for waiting as well ^^

Satan: MC couldn't stand it, the constant sounds of slashing and smell of blood consistently having to be on the run finally got to them. Everyone was a target for being screamed at or ignored as MC tries their best to ride out their intense overstimulation. Satan observes and finds it intriguing, he is not new to this but he doesn't make it better for MC at first. Once he realizes he can't really joke or enjoy it he gets mildly annoyed that MC is shutting down and shutting him out. He straight up leaves them alone but has his nobles at a distance checking up on them until the chaos is over and everything is quiet enough for MC to finally mellow out.

Mammon: While nothing bad happens that often in Tartaros, the constant interaction of Mammon's subjects and asking them so many questions eventually leads to a meltdown and MC reacts by shutting themselves away and throwing their new gifts in a pile to lay in them or hide inside the massive pile as further protection. Mammon doesn't seem to understand, trying to speak to MC and even breaks the door down which causes them to further refuse to respond to any attempts made by Mammon to soothe them. He then sits in silence and waits, after having a few items tossed at him with MC being defensive. Eventually MC does come out and Mammon again tries his best to understand what happened with MC and even uses one of his Ai bots to explain MC's vitals and mental state. At least he's trying!

Beelzebub: Oh, he's the worst when it comes to MC having meltdowns. He often mistaken MC's meltdowns for tantrums and treats them like a child, thus doing nothing but disappearing hoping that whatever is happening "stops" when he returns. And funny enough it's his constant disappearing and reappearing that doesn't help in the slighest due to MC's anxiety. It's usually up to Bael to help create a safe space for MC to hunker down and he talks to them after to let them know he won't let anything or anyone hurt them. Bael later explains the process to Beel but isn't hopeful that he'd remember. Luckily MC has seen little notes Beel leaves behind for himself but let's hope he actually remembers he wrote them down...

Leviathan: If we thought Beel was bad, Leviathan is no better. He refuses to see MC's meltdowns as valid and simply instead refuses to interact with them until he feels like it. No safe spaces, no soothing talks, no reassurance. He feels that MC is doing this on purpose for attention despite Foras trying his best to explain what MC needs. It really takes his nobles to help MC, and oddly, being put in a soft cushioned coffin (Glas' because there's a good amount of space in it) helps MC cut out the stressors and usually it lulls them to sleep. Over time, Levi does attempt to try and understand, feeling left out but it's a long time process.

Lucifer: He knows the difference between meltdowns and tantrums. His brother Michael had tantrums, Raphael, meltdowns, Gabriel a mix of both given the situation. He uses his methods that he's used before with MC, and it proves to be fruitful. Lucifer's garden dome is a great safe space, and Lucifer usually is around or next to them to soothe them after they have calmed down to talk out what was the stressor and how they are feeling. Also with his nobles around if MC ends up hurting themselves during a meltdown, it's an easy fix.

Belphegor: Well, he finds the meltdowns being too much trouble to deal with so he simply ignores it. Beleth is the one that offers help instead to MC or Harumon who an excellent emotional support cat! MC is a bit upset that Belphie didn't even try, but it's to be expected for how he is. At least they have Beleth to lean on and if not Beleth the other nobles are pretty knowledgeable in helping/offering aid during a meltdown. Harumon though is winning in this department. He's so soothing and soft and running fingers through his whorls of fur is a great stimming activity.

[d6volution]

Corporeal

Caine/Fem!Reader

caine wants to learn more about humans, so why not become one himself? surely, these new waves of emotions and new desires won't become an issue.

tags: mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, human!caine, lingerie, reader is down bad for caine but won't admit it, implied masturbation.

Chapter Two.

(previous chapter.)

As an AI Caine didn't feel love, or even fear death. If anything the notion of both seemed more like entertainment to him.

This human trial was proving to be more complex than he initially thought, but what fun that would be? It was in his nature to be curious and seek out answers so that's exactly what he intended to do.

-----------------

The following day Caine waited til what he thought to be a reasonable time to show up at your door, but he just stood there. Hand hesitating to knock. A new feeling,  he thought.

"Oh! Need some help there Caine?" Kinger said, shufing over to him, lifting Caine's hand and helping him knock at the door. Kinger chuckled, "Always gets me too." And just like that he walked away. Perhaps everyone is right, he really is losing his marbles.

But Caine didn't have long to think about his strange and brief interaction with Kinger because you swung open the door. "Oh, Caine.. uh. what are you doing here?" You felt a little disheveled, trying to hide your form behind the door unconsciously. You usually had time to properly groom yourself before speaking with him.

He had to compose himself, clear his throat and remember why he was at your door in the first place, his persona switched on. "Gooood morning, y/n! I hope you're right ripe and ready for today, me and you will be going on a.. mini adventure of sorts!"

"Huh? Just us? Wait— why?" You almost didn't want to ask, afraid he'd suggest others to join.

"Now, now not too many questions, you'll spoil the fun my dear!" He said and patted your head gently.

You blinked and nodded, "Right.. well can I.. freshen up?"

"Of course, I'll be right here!" And he wasn't kidding, he'd stand at your door idly waiting as you shut it. You stared at your room with wide eyes, back to the door, "What the hell." You mutteted, was this some kind of prank? Did someone tip Caine off that you liked him? Why else would he be singling you out??

Maybe you're overthinking it. Definitely over thinking it.

You exited your room soon after, rushing out of the door you didn't realize that Caine was literally still standing in the same spot causing you to bump into him. He caught you mid way, large hands clutching your waist as he helped you up.

Soft, he thought.

"S-Sorry, Caine you really shouldn't stand that close to the door.." You said, a little flushed from embarrassment.

"Duly noted!" He held out his hand without speaking and the moment you grabbed it you were both teleported outside of the tent.

You still hadn't got used to that, your stomach was churning by you managed to hold it back. ".. What are we doing here again..?" You finally asked.

"Well, to put it simply you're going to be my little test bunny, y/n! Bubble isn't really any help at the moment.... and you! Well you're making my body react in all sorts of wacky ways!" He admitted.

"What.. exactly do you mean, wacky?" You said, trying to understand, knowing this all must be just as confusing for him.

"Well, I couldn't stop thinking about you last night. It was quite strange, I usually don't care too much about you all after hours but you were eating away at my mind, y/n!" He stopped and grabbed your shoulders dramatically and you flushed.

"And since that happens to be the case, I plan on keeping you by my side. For research purposes of course!"

This was.. a little messed up, in a sense. You felt torn between flattered and like he was playing with your emotions. But it could it really be helped..? You were stuck here. What else did you have to do with your time? Caine was the only one here you seemed to be the least bit attracted to so why not go along with it.

You cleared your throat, "Well, I see personal space still isn't a thing for you," You jested and he slowly let go of your shoulders, your mind briefly missed the contact.

"Personal space.. got it! Now, my dearest y/n, do tell me. I'm aware you're memories from before now are quite hazy but did you have any hobbies?"

What an odd question. Was he trying to .. get to know you? You had to think, "You're right.. it is hard to remember, but I know I loved being out doors. Walks, picnics... simple things like that were always nice. Though I'm not really sure that really counts as a hobby." You chuckled.

You laughed and he felt that pang in his chest again, he was silent for a moment.

"Yes, yes! All those things sound wonderful, hobbie or not you spend your time well! Come, let's go to the digital lake." He takes your hand without thinking, dragging you along towards the lake. You stumbled behind him, but kept up with his pace. You glanced down at your hands, and how his larger one dwarfed yours.

It made you think about other parts of his body, the way his fitted suit hugged his waist. Buttons struggling to keep his firm chest hidden away—

What were you thinking?? He's an AI. You scolded yourself before your thoughts could even lift off the ground.

"Here we are, I know it isn't quite the same but I think this should do just fine!" He snapped his fingers and a plaid throw blanket was laid out as well as a picnic basket. "Well don't just stand there , take a seat!" He said with a grin.

"I .. I wasn't expecting a picnic now." You said amused by his eagerness and plopped down next to him. You leaned over and opened up the picnic basket and there was nothing inside. "Caine?"

His eyes were busy, when you leaned over his gaze caught a glimpse of your cleavage, luckily before you made eye contact he was already looking away and tugging at his collar a little, "Oh , yes! What.. did you usually pack in your little basket?" His cheeks were dusted with the lightest tint of red.

"Hm.. sandwiches, water.. maybe other fruit on the side?" In the blink of the eye, pixelated versions of everything you named was now in the basket.

"Wow. That must be extremely convenient," You laughed a little, only now noticing the blush on his cheeks that seemed to be fading. "You're blushing.. does sitting out in front of a nice scenery do that to you?" You joked and he almost agreed, because you were the nice scenery at the moment.

"Oh, no no! It must be..sitting this close to you! I told you y/n this janky human body has a mind of its own!" Caine tapped at his baton at the ground a little, becoming fidgety. "Anyways, what a grand time this was! How about we head back? Our best bubble chef must be hard at work preparing dinner we wouldn't want to spoil our appetite too much now would we?" The words spilled from his mouth unceremoniously.

"A.. Already are you sure we just got here—" You tried to protest but he was dead set on ending the picnic so abruptly.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, we always have tomorrow after all!" He grinned and instead of taking your hands he made the bold decision to grab your waist instead. Teleporting you right back in front of your door.

"Well, until tomorrow y/n!" He tried to hurry off but you yanked him by the collar and brushed your lips against his cheek, and before he could respond you hurried into your room like a flustered school girl.

Gosh, what were you doing?

Caine was flustered, confused and utterly enamored. He didn't have a wacky comment to make, he simply relished in these emotions, though.. his thoughts flashed back to your chest and those feelings were amplified but now the feeling wasn't in his chest.. but somewhere lower. This human program was eating away at his base coding.

These desires were bubbling to the surface, and he'd have to... take care of it somewhere more private.

Unbeknownst to him you were having a similar issue. It didn't help that you were not only crushing on the ringmaster but you were touch starved as well..  in the emptiness of your room, away from judgement you thought about how it would feel if Caine was on top of you, touching you and praising you in that charming voice of his.

It wasn't fair.. it wasn't fair, you repeated. But he remained in your mind as you climaxed on your fingers to the thought of him..

You could only dread to think about what he'd think of you doing such a inappropriate thing with him in mind.

Little did you know he was doing the exact same thing while thinking of you.

(chapter three.)

[fayerien]

Period Comfort? — Azul Ashengrotto

warning: azul x female! reader, not proofread!, sfw, reader having a period pain, comfort

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

It was hell for you today as your period trying to get a revenge on you. Out of all times, Grim chose to throw tantrum this morning because he was hungry. You forced yourself to attend the classes, barely understand anything that Professor Trein taught but at least you didn't skip. It's fine cause you can ask Deuce or Ace for the notes.

You went to Octavinelle after school, hoping to find your boyfriend in Monstro Lounge. You saw the tweels busy attending the customers but you chose to walk straight to the VIP room, well it's better if they didn't see you, or they will tease you non-stop. You knocked on the door, hoping for some response.

"Come in." Slowly you pushed the door opened and saw Azul with stacks of papers on his table. As expected from an overworking housewarden. He raised his head and flash a smile at you.

"Angelfish...did you miss me?" He said with a teasing tone but stared at you for a while trying to gauge your reaction.

"Are you okay?" He asked as soon as he saw your gloomy expression.

"It's that time of the month again." You said and he sighed looking at you sympathetically.

"No wonder you look like you're in pain. Now, come here." He patted his lap gesturing you to sit on it. As soon as you approached him, he pulled you down on his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist with your back pressed against his chest.

"Comfortable?" You nodded. His hand slowly reached down to your tummy and gave a gentle rub and massages, hoping to soothe the pain.

"It's your first day, angelfish?"

"Yes.." He hummed and nuzzled his neck in the crook of your neck taking in your scent. Slowly, he trailed his lips on your neck, planted soft kisses there.

"How about you stay in my room tonight? You don't have to go back to ramshackle, hm?" His tone turned slightly suggestive and you knew he was doing it on purpose, trying to rile you up.

"Oh yeah? Is this another deal you want to make with me?" You jokingly asked him. Oh, he loves it when you act sassy like this.

He laughed at your snarky remark, totally enjoying their playful banter.

"How about I give you a kiss if you agree to stay with me tonight?" You swore you can see that smug smirk that you're dying to wipe it off his face. But you know that you can't resist him, or simply won't.

"Alright. It's a deal." You said with a hint of playfulness while trying to imitate his signature spell.

He smirked. "Careful, angelfish. You might get into trouble later."

He got no time to waste as he swiftly lift you up in a bridal style carrying you to the couch. You almost let out a scream but managed to compose yourself. He sat on the couch with you still on his lap, but straddling his thighs now, looking at you with those dangerous eyes and smile.

He slowly brought a hand to your back, pulling you closer to him until you can feel his breath on your face. His other hand gently caressed your cheek as he stared into your eyes.

"May I fulfill our deal, angelfish?" You simply nodded, unable to form any words.

Before you could realize, his lips were already pressed on yours. It was really slow and gentle, like a feather caressing you. It was soft and heavenly you swore you can get drown in it. You can practically feel like you were melting in his warm embrace. It was sweet, effortlessly sweet, until he put on his whole passion in that kiss to the point that you can lose yourself in a blink.

He slowly pulled away looking at you with those bright eyes, you felt like the blood rushed into your cheeks, so scarlet it was maroon.

"You good, angelfish?" He smirked, trying to rile you up once again.

"Shut up." You glared at him, trying to hide the fact that your lips lifted into a tiny smile.

"Now now..is that a way to talk to your caring boyfriend, grumpy angelfish?"

"Fine." You rolled your eyes jokingly at his remark. He laughed and playfully poke your side.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, sending shivers down to your spine.

"You're staying with me tonight." His voice sounded a bit muffled.

"No. What if Grim starts throwing fireballs at the ghosts and ended up burning our dorm?"

"I'll prepare your painkillers, your favourite chocolate, brew a hot tea for you and you'll get cuddles for the whole night. I'll take care of you and make those period pain disappear."

You rolled your eyes. Damn, this guy would never listen to you.

"Okay, fine. But if our dorm turned into ashes, you'll take the blame."

You could actually feel him smiling victoriously against your neck.

"Deal, angelfish. Anything for you."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

[tinyapplejuice]

LAWRIE DATING HEADCANONS

✧.*

•Lawrie is the epitome of a big fat loser in romance. He has a negative infinite idea about dating. The only thing he has going on in his head is; to bring justice to Starr Park, defeat crime bringers, and protect Larry. He desperately needs help because he’s going to DIE if he ever gets near you.

•Well at least there’s one good thing about Lawrie and that is that Lawrie prefers you over Starr Park as he isn’t crazy about it like Larry, who would literally sacrifice everything for the safety of it. He still considers the theme park important of course as his original purpose was to keep it safe from rule breakers but he has come to terms that you are much more significant. One thing he will not put you first is his brother, Larry. He cares for his brother too much. After all, he’s the older brother, it’s his job to protect Larry.

•Just like Larry, Lawrie’s first instinct on whatever something threatening comes to you is to protect you. He will be much more aggressive and hostile than Larry so sometimes it causes a huge scene and it leaves you embarrassed more than anything. But hey! It’s better than being hurt!!!

•I could also imagine him being protective about your health and personal being. If you’re not sleeping, he’ll tell you to, if you’re hurt, he will treat you or take you to the nearest hospital. I feel like he has this because of Larry and how he wants to keep his brother safe so he wanted to do it to you too.

•Lawrie isn’t much of a talker but he is a good listener. When you’re venting to him, he will listen intently, nodding every word you say.

•If he ever smiles near you, well congrats! He likes you or trusts you well enough to where you could see his grin. I like to think he smiles near his loved ones- the only exception being is when something exciting happens.

•He’s also interested in you so if you’re ranting about your personal interests, your hobbies, what you spend your free time doing. He will literally make a mental note to himself to remember that you like or do those things. I like to imagine if he has strong feelings for someone, he enjoys listening to them talk especially since he doesn’t have any personal things he likes.

•Also for me, I see Lawrie, is not a huge talker so whenever you guys speak- he sometimes makes things really awkward and all you can do is watch Lawrie’s face turn bitter and red. Well, there are three reasons why he’s like that; he doesn’t have that much enthusiasm for conversation- he often speaks in a dead tone (even though it’s not his intention most of the time), he often speaks things off on facts and doesn’t understand anything trending or slangs, and the fact he sounds and looks aggressive just sprinkles it on top.

•Anyways Lawrie gets easily flustered turns out, whenever you’re flirting or teasing him his face turns immediately red as bright as a Christmas light. And then he has to cool himself down really fast with his inner fans because of how hot he is. He’s like a burning microwave. And let me tell you, he extremely hates everything about this.

•I feel like he would very much get agitated and snappy from it so whenever you tease him or look smug, he would be very annoyed. He’s trying to ignore it as much as he can.

•Lawrie was very cautious to get into a relationship so at the first months of dating, he was very silent and often times just staring at you with a frown on his face. He had a bunch of walls set up too. It takes a whole while before he even opens up JUST A BIT. You have to be a really patient person to handle that. That’s because he doesn’t like to be vulnerable, he always wants to be perceived as this strong and badass cop but if he ever dates someone. He thinks it’s a weakness. Plus he has Larry and R-T, what else does he need? (He was also probably slightly nervous maybe that’s why he was staring at you.)

•Also can I just say that he originally hated you? I could just imagine him distancing from you and glaring at you from afar. Probably ranting crude things about you to Larry. Lawrie’s the type of person to think that these romantic feelings were a threat as there were very foreign feelings for him. He probably that you somehow messed with his code to make him feel that so he definitely didn’t trust you and had a great fondness for you.

•He has a hard time letting you take care of him since he’s usually an independent person. Will probably be really stubborn and try to push you away. It feels odd for him and he’s decently going to be really pouty about it.

•Lawrie hates being lovey-dovey. He is not the type of person who’s very affectionate compared to Larry. He’s the type of person who would be subtly affectionate. The best thing he will do is gift presents, hold hands (maybe a hug if you’re lucky), and very blunt compliments. He will not flirt with you and will not try to kiss you as much. He hates being sappy because he feels really awkward and cringy if he does that. But if he did say something corny, he would become immensely embarrassed.

•Oh if you guys ever kiss on the lips, bless your heart. He is the worst kisser of all time. I could just imagine him stiffening quickly like a stone as you peck him in the lips, you probably had to lead a stunned Lawrie with it.

•He seems like the type of person to deny that you guys are dating. It’s not to be mean. It’s just that….HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN ADMITTING IT OUT IN THE PUBLIC. He just wants to conceal himself and reveal these things only to Larry. As I mentioned before he literally does not want to seem weak nor is he lovey dovey so if someone finds out he’s dating anyone he’s doomed.

•That also means he restricts you from pda, maybe once in a while he will let you. But that’s if he’s feeling it. But most of the time, he stops you.

•He isn’t usually the type of person to go on dates but if he were, he would usually prefer to be in more of a private place than somewhere public. I see him as someone who doesn’t want to be around a lot of people, especially with his love. I physically cannot see Lawrie being affectionate in public, maybe in private but that’s like a low possibility.

•You have never even seen this man cry ever. Never in your whole time of dating him have you seen a single oil drop out of his eyes. You may think he never cries but he does. He just barely cries but when he does, he usually does it alone or with Larry. Like I said for the millionth time, he does not want to look weak.

•Small acts of kindness mean a lot more to him than anything. Like you’re checking up on him or helping him? It just makes his robotic heart beat faster. He appreciates these since it shows you care about him, even though he will never admit that…

•Lawrie stares a lot and I mean A LOT. He always glances at you whenever he sees you at the park but when you stare back. He goes back to his job and acts like nothing happens but inside he’s like giddy and very flustered.

•Lawrie is an impatient man. Since he is a robot who enjoys action (I like to imagine he loves fast-paced action especially). He literally cannot handle it if you’re a few minutes late. Sometimes you can even notice his little foot stomping as he huffs, crossing his arms as his eyes go everywhere.

•Speaking of him liking action, I feel like he poses like those complex action figures when he’s fighting. He has these awesome moves and if you’re impressed by it. I would say he will be a little proud of himself.

•Without a doubt Larry would be his number one wingman and supporter in this. Even though he’s not the brightest with dating advice, Lawrie trusts him no matter what and they both genuinely think that he could swoon you over with these stupid tips. So if you ever see him act goofy, just know Larry played a part in that.

•There may be multiple days in a row where you don’t see him it’s because he’s busy with work. And if you ever get upset by that, he genuinely doesn’t know how to comfort you.

•Correlating about comfort. This man is the worst at it. I feel like he is someone who can’t be there emotionally so you have to be a mentally strong person if you ever want to date him.

•He is also the KING OF MISCOMMUNICATION. He is a stubborn, angry robot, yes, but whenever you guys fight. He ignores you, often times it feels like he’s isolating himself. It’s really stressful and super confusing. He can also get riled up easily. I like to imagine the reason why is because of his programming since he’s the bad cop who enforces the rules. I feel like that’s implemented to Lawrie when you guys ever wrangle, in his computer it feels like someone is rebelling against him- similar to how criminals revolt against the law. I feel like he could get wrathful real quick. He is one of the more unapproachable brawlers especially ones who have a difficult time keeping a relationship with his brother and R-T.

•Lawrie does feel guilty about this. I feel like he is a cold robot but he is NOT that cold. I mean you’re his lover and he has to be ashamed of himself for the way he had acted towards you. He does love you so he will say sorry. He doesn’t apologize normally so it always ends with a fiddly sorry.

•You have to be a really incredible patient and understanding person for him to date since I feel like he’s a complicate person to be with, it often drives people away from him due to his overall personality and looks. But give him enough time and I’m sure he will come by and love you just as much as you love him! He just has a hard time expressing his love to people but trust me, he does love you.

Guys… I’m not proud of this at all… I don’t know something feels off about this and it just gives my stomach this bad feeling. My sister said it was alright but I don’t know… Anyways… I hope you guys enjoy!!! （ꉺᗜꉺ）YAYAYAY

[aresianrepose]

Before the semester kicks off and murders me, @disniq​ asked for my essay on Jason Todd and hysteria. So, without further ado, here is an actual essay (fucking dissertation) because I refuse brevity. It is extremely long. I’ve split it into sections so you can find the section header and read what you want. This does not encompass all the narrative trauma themes and lived experiences that this boy holds, just specifically hysteria. 

Jason Todd, The Hysteric & Bruce Wayne, The Batman

I think it’s a common reading that Jason Todd is girl-coded and the patron saint of victims, at least within the circle that I’ve fallen into within this fandom. There are plenty of meta discussions on why those readings stand, so I’m not going to reiterate them. A pillar of him being girl-coded and someone trauma survivors have latched onto as one of our own has to do with being written in the context of hysterical femininity. And let me just say, I don’t think that writing was done in a way that he was intentionally coded as hysterical, but it is a function of our patriarchal society that this coding was used on him albeit without the explicit purpose of writing a hysteric story. 

For the purpose of this post: the word woman includes ciswomen, transwomen, and any person who is socially positioned as a woman regardless of gender identity. I include the positionality here because anyone can experience misogyny and sexism depending on the perception of the perpetrators either interpersonally or systemically. 

The History and Context of Hysteria

To understand the context, we have to look at the history and oppression of hysteria. Hysteria (in the modern context of psychology) emerged in the nineteenth century and is difficult to define by design and often applied to traumatized, unruly, and broken women. The main patriarchs who contributed to hysterical study were Jean-Martin Charcot and Sigmund Freud. I only mention this because it’s important to know their names moving forward for any of this to make sense. The beginning of this started with Charcot literally putting women whose lives had been marked by rape, abuse, exploitation, and poverty on display in his Tuesday lectures (which were open to the public) to show his findings on hysteria. This was actually seen as restoring dignity (fucking yikes) to the women because before Charcot these hysterical women were cast aside and not treated at all. In Charcot’s work, the women’s speech was seen as simply “vocalization” and their inner lives, their stories, their words, were silenced. After hearing a woman cry for her mother during one of the public sessions Charcot remarked, “Again, note these screams. You could say it’s a lot of noise over nothing” (Herman). 

This led to Freud, Charcot’s student, wanting to surpass his teacher by discovering the cause of hysteria. This was disastrous. Freud started with listening to the hysterics. In doing so, he learned and believed them about the abuse, rape, and exploitation of their pasts. He then published his work and gave a lecture on it. The work rivals even contemporary psychological work on trauma in it’s level of compassion, understanding, and treatment of survivors. However, he was then labeled a feminist (this was all happening during the first wave of feminism) and professionally ostracized. How in the world could these aristocratic French men be sexually abusing their wives, sisters, and daughters??? Insanity, truly. And... This always fucking gets me. He recanted his work and then told his patients they all imagined it because they wanted to be sexually abused by their husbands, brothers, and fathers. This set back the study of trauma by literally a century. One colleague called his work “a scientific fairy-tale” simply because he had the audacity to believe victims. Also, I want to point out that the famous hysteria case during this time was the case of Anna O and she was ultimately villainized by the entire psychological community for going into crisis after her care provider abruptly ended their therapeutic relationship after two years of DAILY sessions. 

Anyway. We can see how the power of these men over vulnerable women silenced, pathologized, villainized, infantilized, and used male ‘logic’ to completely destroy their credibility and lives under the guise of care and hysteria. Even when credible men lend their expertise and voices to the victims, their voices are silenced. This particular iteration of hysteria lasted over a century, and we are still dealing with the consequences of these actions and ideas within our social construction, medical and mental health care, interpersonal relationships, and more. Patriarchal pillars such as hysteria don’t die. We saw it move from hysteria to schizophrenia (which used to have the same symptoms of hysteria before the diagnosis changed in more contemporary psychology) after this which led to widespread lobotomies and electroshock therapy (my least favorite case of a lobotomy being done is on a woman who was diagnosed with LITERALLY ‘narcissist husband’) to depression in the 40s-50s with the over prescription of benzodiazepines to house wives to keep them in a zombie state (these prescriptions were sometimes double and triple what we take today with the intent of medical catatonia). In my opinion, as well as other counselors within the feminist therapy theoretical orientation, we are currently seeing it with the emergence of borderline-personality disorder. Think about how BPD is treated and demonized for a second. I professionally know therapists who refuse to work with BPD clients due to this villainization and just fucking gross perception of victims.

These are just the highlights, but it shows the history of hysteria. There have been centuries of women being marked as hysterical and the cures have ranged from lobotomy to bed rest (which sounds not so bad but read the Yellow Wallpaper and get back to me on that one). While the Yellow Wallpaper is fictional, the life behind it was not. After the traumatic birth of her child the author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, was remanded to bed rest by the authority of her husband and doctor. Within the sphere of medical control, hysterical women are often treated as children while their doctors make decisions for their mental well-being without consulting them, or they hide the truth of their procedures for “the woman’s own good” and because “she’s hysterical and wouldn’t comprehend the logical need for this.” She then had a mental break due to the treatment. Again, we see hysterical women being silenced, infantilized, discredited from their own experiences, and under the narrative control of male logic and voices. 

Hysterical women have often historically been seen as beneath men, except for when they’re dangerous. Listening to victims is inherently threatening to the status quo because all trauma comes from a systemic framework. The framework that upholds patriarchal power. It’s easy to see why that would be seen as dangerous to powerful men. We saw this with the European witch genocide in which oppressed women were targeted and wiped out under the excuse of what was considered women’s work. (Before this time, witchcraft wasn’t tied to any religion and was mostly just seen as women’s work. It was targeted specifically to have an excuse to persecute widows, homeless, disabled, and vulnerable women who no longer had men to reign over them during a time of political unrest and scarce resources). This time period saw hysterical and traumatized women demonized as dangerous, evil, immoral, hypersexual, and supernaturally wily. A threat to the moral fabric of society. 

(Interesting history side note: this caused the view of women’s base traits we have today. It stemmed from the Victorian era that came after this time period in which women learned if they behaved a certain way, they would be spared the stake. For example, before the witch trials, women were actually seen as the ones with unsatiable sexual appetites, something we culturally prescribe to men now.) 

Notice how none of this has to do with the actual abuse that happens to the women, but instead the labeling and treatment of women when they are already showing the symptoms of abuse, trauma, control, exploitation, and rape. 

Jason Todd, The Hysteric

So, how does this relate to Jason Todd? To say that Jason has experienced trauma would be an understatement. Extreme poverty, loss of parent to death and addiction, loss of parent to the justice system, parental abuse, manipulation, witnessing violent crimes, witnessing the aftermath of sexual abuse and assault, arguably (not explicit in the text) his own sexual trauma, witnessing the dead bodies of victims, a violent death, and subsequently a violent resurrection. There’s also an argument to be made for being a child soldier and how that is romanticized up until he dies, but the text does not treat this as traumatizing.

Now, I’m not going to dive into the trauma he experienced. The purpose of this is only to look at how he’s framed as hysterical in the narrative, and as I stated, hysteria was a word slapped on women after they tried to talk about their trauma or exhibited symptoms (or were just unruly women). Jason does embody many facets of the victim experience and this is just one of them. 

Feelings vs “logic” - Firstly, it is really hard to talk calmly about things that you carry, your experiences, your trauma, and things that specifically harm you. It is easy to talk calmly about things that don’t. This is why there is an abuse tactic of gaslighting or silencing victims by framing their very real reactions to harm or their triggers as abuse, this is known as “reactive abuse.” This tactic is also employed in oppressive settings where the privileged group will often default to ‘winning’ a debate by being able to remain calm while the marginalized group whose life, personhood, etc is being harmed by the things being discussed and are unable to have a sterilized, emotionless debate. 

Both of these settings fit Jason nicely within the moral context of vigilante comics. He fought back, he didn’t lay down, and he will do what he deems as necessary to protect himself and others from his fate. This, however, is framed by Bruce and others as being just as bad as his murderer or even just as bad as Joe fucking Chill. To put this in perspective of a real world equivalent. Combine every billionaire on this planet into one person and instead of their shitty business practices murdering people, they did it with their own two hands. And due to their resources and political power, they would never, ever stop killing or be reasonably contained. More people would die with absolute 100% certainty. Would killing that one person make you equally bad as that person or violating the sanctity of life? That’s the moral question that Bruce puts onto Jason. While the moral question inherent to Jason is actually, is there a line worth crossing to provide reasonable safety (for yourself or the nameless community)? There is actually a difference between those two questions and the reactive abuse framing is certainly a choice. Also, it is funny to me that a man with the amount of power Bruce has (and frequently misuses) can lecture a murder victim on the misuse of power and morality. Are we supposed to be agree with his stoic, philosophical lecturing to a marginalized, abused, murder victim? (yes, we are). Bruce leverages (personal) philosophy against victim’s voice for their own safety, and take a wild guess which one is framed as logical and reasonable.

Jason’s morals come secondary to Bruce’s philosophy in a universe where there is still harm being done (but it’s an acceptable harm). Why is killing the line? Bruce is regularly destroying families and lives by feeding them into the prison industrial complex while supporting it with his whole chest. Or he’s disabling and seriously maiming people with the level of violence he uses. 

Crying - Throughout the entire story of Under the Red Hood, we never once see Bruce emote while interacting with Jason outside of tight grimaces. With the exception of the shock he shows at the Joker’s life being threatened, which... Okay, suuure. We never see him cry during any of their interactions, but we do see Jason cry. Specifically, we see him crying when he’s at his most emotionally vulnerable and physically dangerous to the toxic male power fantasy. This kind of vulnerability is rarely shown by male characters, and when it is, it’s usually done with a mist of a tear in their eyes or their face is hidden. There are a few narrative devices that allow men to cry, but they are the exception rather than the rule. Usually, it’s to play for laughs, infantilize, or emasculate. Here, we see Jason combine the violence of a bad victim, bucking the system of power, and fully crying. Just slide right into that hysterical coding like a glove. Jason often shows his feelings entirely. Time and time again, the readers have seen Jason have breakdowns, cry, and be overcome with grief. This is tied to his portrayal as hysterical and unstable in the narrative, but in actuality it shows his capacity for love and how vastly impactful his death was. 

This fits nicely with the next point that Jason fits into the hysterical box. Love is framed as one of his key faults. A son reaching for his father. 

Love - One of Jason’s defining features is the amount of love and compassion he holds. He’s willing to put up with any treatment, shoulder blame, and sacrifice himself for others to almost an unhealthy degree. However, this doesn’t extend to what he defines as his baseline safety. This one line of safety is the one thing that can’t be crossed, even with all of the love he feels for his father. He desperately wants to feel connection, have a family, and be loved in return with the same unwavering ferocity love that he gives. This is such a fucking key part of the victim experience, especially victims of childhood trauma. The desperation to just be chosen. He’s raw and honest with his reasonable expectation for love to provide safety for him and that is framed as hysterical, needy, unstable, naive, and fucking childish. Victims know what they need to have safety, and this framing as Bruce knowing what’s best for Jason and literally giving a cold shoulder to his needs is disgusting. 

Less than - Jason is portrayed as less powerful than Bruce even though they have similar expertise. There are so many instances of this that if you just open any media they both appear in, you can close your eyes, point, and land on an example. It makes me die laughing every time I remember that the Arkham games made Jason just one inch shorter than Bruce. Like, they can’t even be the same fucking height, that’s the level of insecure masculinity surrounding this relationship. Jason cannot and will never be able to be on par with Bruce because of his hysterical femininity and the power of Bruce being the self insert for the toxic male power fantasy. This power dynamic applies to the other batkids as well, but specifically in Jason’s case there is an element of hysteria. The reasons change because he’s so inconsistently written but usually he can’t surpass or even meet a stalemate with Bruce because he’s too emotional, he’s unstable, traumatized, and simply Bad. It’s even explicitly stated by Alfred in Under the Red Hood. 

Victim blaming - Jason deserved to die because he didn’t follow orders. Jason deserved to die for not following his training. Jason deserved to die because he was an angry Robin (oh no a child had an appropriate reaction to sexual violence). Jason deserved to die for being human.

Infantilization - Jason is repeatedly infantilized in contrast to Bruce. When given the ultimatum at the end of UtRH, Bruce speaks to Jason like a child, or a bad dog. Ordering him to do things like, “enough!” or “stop this now.” Bruce knows what’s best for Jason (and for everyone in the entire world), we should really just take his word for it and not the victim’s. Imagine staring at a 6 foot wall of a man and scolding him like a child. Beyond that, as mentioned above, his views of love and safety are framed as childish. Even though they are actually leaning more toward collectivism rather than the rampant individualism that Bruce so strongly defers to. (also, just a side note, collectivistic methods in healing from trauma is actually the only scientifically reliable way to heal. Every other method has absolutely abysmal results and higher rates of relapses.)

Silenced and Safety Villainized - Jason is silenced in his own story, acceptable and honored when he was dead and met with vitriol in life. All of the love given to him as Robin turns to ash as soon as he collides with Bruce’s power and morals. I think any survivor can relate to the experience of being told that what happened to them was a long time ago and it’s time to move on. Or even that they’re leveraging their own safety to get what they want in a manipulative way. Regardless of whether or not there was any accountability or justice for the harm done to them. Alfred asks Bruce if he should remove Jason’s memorial in the cave like two seconds after learning of his resurrection because Jason’s methods of securing safety for himself and using his own voice to define his story. Bruce was able to tell Jason’s story when he died. He was able to memorialize, grieve, and ultimately define Jason’s story because Jason wasn’t there to speak for himself. When Jason does speak for himself, he is villainized and literally stripped of his past significance as Robin (or a good victim) by Alfred within seconds. This is reflected in real life with adoptee advocates speaking about how adoption is unethical/harmful/traumatizing and subsequently being framed as ungrateful, selfish, etc. They were little perfect victims without voices before they grew up and could speak for themselves.

Erased - Gestures at the entirety of how Jason is either talked about or completely erased during the 90s Tim Robin run. He wasn’t convenient to talk about, as victims rarely are. This also ties into how Steph’s death was erased and Babs was written like she “won” at trauma by simply... beating it??? 

Dangerous - Jason is framed as threatening the basic fabric of society (in a story with vigilantes this is hard to do, so they have him oppose the no-kill rule, and then doubled down on Bruce’s characterization of no-killing). Anything that bucks the status-quo is usually marked as villainous in mainstream vigilante/superhero comics, but this is a step beyond that into the interpersonal and political sphere. Hysterical women are often framed as dangerous, villains, snakes, and treacherous (the other side of this coin is weak, pathetic, and pitiable) because they are victimized and then have the audacity to do something to the system about it. Whether that be the system of their immediate families or the political sphere. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jason was paired with Talia in Lost Days to hammer this point home to the reader. It could’ve just as easily been anyone with access to the Pit that rescued him, but no, we had DC’s favorite brown, treacherous, venomous, female punching bag. 

Bruce Wayne, The Batman

Bruce fits well into the father, enforcer, and logical man slot in Jason’s hysterical story. There is a history of ownership throughout women’s history when it comes to their subjugation to men. Women actually couldn’t be put on trial before the witchcraft genocide because they weren’t seen as legally a person. Their male owner would be put on trial instead. Women would go from being owned by their fathers to their husbands after entering marriage, the most dangerous woman being one who isn’t owned (orphaned, widowed). Bruce does treat (and even thinks) about Jason like he’s something that he owns. He’s his protege, his son, and his responsibility. 

The narrative function of Bruce as a perpetrator in Jason’s story. 

“The perpetrator asks the bystander (reader) to do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander (reader) to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement and remembering” (Herman). 

Bruce does remember what happened to Jason. He keeps a permanent memorial to his dead son. However, this doesn’t translate into any kind of tangible action. He doesn’t do anything to actually stop the murderer who took his son’s life and he continues to throw child soldiers at the problem of crime (how many children have died for the sake of his no-kill rule at this point?). When met with the reality of his inaction, he fits into the perpetrator’s role like a glove:

“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the first line of defense... If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens... From the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization... One can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it’s time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater his prerogative to name and define reality, the more completely his arguments prevail” (Herman). 

I think it is simply fact at this point that Bruce is the head patriarch in Gotham if not, arguably, in the entirety of DC. That level of power in the narrative cannot be ignored, especially when faced with the very real, screaming voice of a victim that Bruce uses all of that power to silence. Bruce, because of his status as patriarch, default protagonist, and self-insert for the toxic male power fantasy, has the ultimate power to name and define reality. Especially to the reader. Bruce doesn’t deny what happened to Jason, because that’s physically impossible to do. But what he does do is ensure that no one listens to Jason, discredits him, and rationalizes his own inaction, actions of violence towards Jason, and victim blames.

Here’s Bruce using the most base form of denial and victim blaming:

After this panel, Bruce also revokes Dick’s access to his childhood home simply for asking a question.

This theme extends to other members of the batfam because of Bruce’s narrative power over them. It’s why we can’t have Dick, Steph, Babs, or even Damian step in and relate to Jason’s trauma or vindicate him. Even when we, the readers, can see parallels and wonder why these conversations or bonds aren’t forming. Jason HAS to be a lone wolf because he is hysterical and a threat to the system of power. This also shows why most of his runs in group settings outside of the batfam fall apart or fall flat. If he was humanized by any other character or had his trauma validated in any actionable way, it would be recognizing the failure of the toxic male power fantasy. The readers are not supposed to see the flaw in this system that allows the bodies of children to pile up and sympathize with one of their voices. It would be a crack in the system of power that exists not only in the source material, but very much within our real world.

Side note: Jason is allowed to interact with others in a wholesome and validating way when he no longer threatens the systemic power of Bruce. When he is silenced by the writers and plays the “nice victim” (like Babs does), he is allowed connection. Only when his healing is done in a way that doesn’t demand action and is only his personal responsibility (gotta love the rampant individualism). If he is hysterical, demands action, and asks for someone to be held accountable for his death, he is shoved away into a lone wolf box. Examples: Gotham Knights (from my very basic understanding, I haven’t played the game, only seen play throughs) and WFA. Victims are acceptable if they do their healing in a neat little box and stay there, but hysterics are the ones who step outside of that box.

Red Hood, The Political Voice of Hysteria and Trauma

Red Hood is deeply political in terms of hysteria and trauma. Herman stated that victims and those that authentically care for them or listen to them intently (whether that be interpersonally, clinically, or professionally) are silenced, ostracized, and discredited. Survivors need a social context that supports the victim and that joins the victim and witness in a common alliance. On an interpersonal level this looks like family, friends, and loved ones. However, trauma is systemic and the social context mentioned above must also be given on a wider social scale. For this to be done, there had to be systemic change and political action. Jason had the interpersonal social support and witnesses to his trauma ripped from him by Bruce. So, we see him move onto a systemic level of addressing trauma in his own political way. He literally cannot escape Bruce and this constant trigger because of Bruce’s philosophy and just... fucking power to define reality... being re-enforced constantly in DC no matter where he tries to go. So, he tries to heal by taking the systemic issue of perpetrators who cannot be held accountable or have fallen through the cracks of accountability into his own hands in a very personal way. A one man political movement.

Whether his methods are moral or ethical doesn’t really matter in the overall framing him as hysteric. He simply has to be opposed by the male power fantasy in some significant way. This shows that the goals, needs, and work towards victim’s and the marginalized’s freedom is dangerous, doomed to fail, and ultimately unethical if the victim is framed in a villain light instead of the more pathetic/pitiable iteration of hysteria. 

You can see how this is not only problematic but also reflects the real world values instilled in arguments against human rights movements (which are intrinsically tied to victims rights). Defunding the police is dangerous, the MeToo movement is dangerous, abolition is dangerous, trans rights are dangerous, etc etc etc. Think of the victims voices tied to each of these movements and how they are integral to the real change offered by these political movements. You can’t have human rights violations without creating victims. And you can’t have political movements surrounding human rights without listening to victims.

We can also see how the individuals within these movements are ostracized, villianized, and often silenced (sometimes ultimately silenced with death) because they rally against the systems of power that victimized them. The framing of traumatized, vulnerable people as hysterical is integral to upholding the system of power that traumatizes and harms them.

A popular comic book movie adaptation that highlights the importance of Jason’s hysterical framing and how it impacts the political narrative/how he is written is V for Vendetta. To be fair, it received an insane amount of backlash by conservatives (not within leftist or liberal spaces) for V’s methods in over throwing fascism, but only because of the movie’s release date being so close to 9/11. V and Jason have many parallels, it’s only the lack of hysterical framing that makes V more palatable to the viewer. We are told, not shown through behavior, that V is traumatized by his past and he does not pick a fight with the protagonist that functions as a toxic male power fantasy. He is the protag, with his version of Bruce being men who are not framed in a sympathetic, heroic, or relatable light. 

Additionally, there is literally an unemoting mask standing between the viewer and V, whereas Jason takes off his helmet to allow the reader to see every aspect of his trauma and pain. V readily dehumanizes himself into an idea, rather than a person. Whereas Jason screams to be seen as a person in a very hysterical way. So, we can see how the framing of Jason as hysteric against the logical, heroic man greatly impacts how the audience reads him when contrasted by a very similar political story/character who uses similar (and arguably more violent) methods to meet his ends. (This just made me realize that I would die for a Jason adaptation written by the Wachowski sisters). 

Jason’s work as Red Hood is seeped in leftist, victim, and community centered politics. His portrayal as a hysterical antagonist (at best an anti-hero) is rooted in misogyny and upholding patriarchal, capitalist, and the prison industrial complex systems of power. He is the righteous embodiment of “the personal is political” for victims. Even his Robin run draws attention to and shows correct, angry reactions to the system of patriarchal power in sexual violence.

Patriarchal Writing and Enforcement

Jason is girl-coded and hysterical because he’s supposed to be emasculated, discredited, and disliked by the reader. He serves the narrative function of boosting the toxic male power fantasy of Bruce and in doing so, the writers use one of the oldest tropes in the book (one that we have all subconsciously been taught since birth) to get the reader on their side. Make him a hysterical woman. 

References: for anyone interested in furthering their understanding of any of the concepts mentioned above and to, you know, use sources for my own writing.

Barstow, A. Witchcraze

Bondi, L., Burman. E. Women and Mental Health: A Feminist Review

Freud, S. The Aietology of Hysteria

Gilman, C. P. The Yellow Wallpaper

Herman, J. Trauma and Recovery

Ussher, J. The Madness of Women.

Van der Kolk, B. The Body Keeps the Score

Wilkin, L., Hillock, S. Enhancing MSW Students’ Efficacy in Working with Trauma, Violence, and Oppression: An Integrated Feminist-Trauma Framework for Social Work Education

[sadhornydemons]

Rapid-Spoiler-Season-Speculation: Apology Tour/Ghostf*ckers

Caution: some references are made to other spoilers, so proceed with caution if you wish to avoid.

Apology Tour:

Alright, I'll admit, this episode I think I understand the least, so I'm sure I'm completely off the mark in even attempting to make sense of it.

Cake will be served, and it's clown Blitz version. Heart on an item in the back, heart on the knife. How many years has it been and she's still obsessed?

WHATEVER this is, Blitz didn't just stumble into it, I wonder if some type of invitation got him there.

Blood/red stained sheet for unknown reasons.

I think I'm the only one who preferred the earlier design, but guess I just have a type.

WHAT. DA. FUCK.

Yeah, of course, this is when my imagination starts churning.

Did Stolas reach just the perfect amount of drunk before his Spotify breakup playlist reached Olivia Rodrigo, causing him to throw on last year's Halloween costume and portal himself to his ex so he could express himself properly?

No, Stolas had an entire stage prop production prepared. That or we haven't seen the full extent of his magic conjuring abilities.

(same outfit, I'm keeping my eye on the spiked collar 'cause it's new to his wardrobe)

I don't know what could bring this on. At first, I thought it was a dream sequence, but the spiked collar turns up in a later scene. Maybe I just haven't accepted that my fav character could be an asshole?

Screenshots of Blitz, sheet is now a hoodie, we really don't know what he's looking at in this particular scene.

I don't think this is a full scale concert, though. Probably more of a private event. Maybe Verosika was planning a gathering of the 'We Hate Blitzo' fanclub, but Stolas was the only one to RSVP.

If it is, a public concert, I mean, I can just imagine the headlines:

Prince Stolas shocks audience members by appearing as the opening act in Verosika Mayday's concert, preforming his original ballad, 'Imp Dicks Aren't Worth the Heartbreak'.

And if it is a regular event, there's the possibly Blitz attended on purpose..to apologize about things? (hence the title) I don't know, it just all seems too weird.

As poster bleucaesura noted, Stolas is on his couch in this scene. The red stained sheet, presumably with Blitz under, stand before him. Stolas's collar is spiked, so this seems to happen after the musical number.

This is mainly all the info we have this episode, but looking ahead to future ones, I'm thinking this is gonna conclude the majority of the Stolitz angst. Or at least the current ones.

As many have noted, this season has been following a pattern of focusing on, and occasionally resolving Blitz's relationship problems. Unhappy Campers introduced Barbie properly, adding more details to the fire incident. Oops and Mammon's Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special added to that by focusing on him and Fizz. Full Moon and Apology Tour seem to be based around Stolas and then both Stolas and Verosika, fitting since it's comparing people from his love life.

Hence, I believe the next episode will instead prioritize Blitz's relationship with M&M:

Ghostfuckers:

The IMP mobile is totaled and appears spray painted. Therefore, guessing this scene must take place first:

But what would cause "a life on the run", as Blitz puts it, unless he wasn't completely serious?

And I'm not sure if the hooded folks, "Come out, we've got your surrounded." scene was edited in before this or not.

There are those clouds in the background and it seems to call for a more scary scene, or at least until he checks his watch.

(actually those could all take place in previous episode or the ones to come, for all we know!)

Blitz wears a bad disguise rather than using an asmodean crystal. We could read too much into that because maybe Blitz just LIKES coming up with disguises, but in other spoilers, we see Blitz using a book for portals.

The enemy is doing bad things to the character's mental health, bringing about their worse fears. In reference to Blitz, I wonder if this is this is where those scenes come into play:

Interesting how it's edited like Blitz watching a filmstrip of his life, complete with a decorative frame.

Shown in a different style, I wonder if this flashback will also be used:

And, (if my earlier theory is wrong), this has to appear somewhere:

We see a flashback to a younger, longer hair Millie (not unlike her wedding photo):

(and it looks like outside a ship? Hey, maybe pirates really did have port windows!)

Which may be used to match up with this fight:

This, however, is hopefully, just another hallucination:

Okay, for the rest of this episode, one can't really speculate because the (looks both ways cautiously) storyboards leaked last year reveal a good chuck of the action and dialogue. So without getting TOO into that, for those who want to avoid getting too spoiled, I'll conclude this episode may turn out to be a fun, scary, but with admittedly triggering subjects, that showcase Blitzø's messy and occasionally obsessive relationship with Moxxie and Millie.

...and possibly new issues with Loona? Something is hinted out, but I might get into THAT speculation in the last two episodes.

[suzyblue0292]

Rewatch - Dead Boy Detectives S1E2 - The Case of the Dandelion Shrine

Is this a functioning cannery?

Edwin being their diplomat is both horrifying and hilarious, but yeah, he is actually the best choice. 

I always knew if my cat could talk he’d be an asshole.

I can’t tell how much of the seduction is real and how much is a play to get the bracelet on…

The fear on Edwin’s face as he backs off. 

I’m not sure it’s consensual if you smack a caging spell on someone first…

I wonder if the cat king returned him hours later on purpose to screw with them - it makes Edwin’s story so suspect to Charles because - how could that be all that happened - you were gone for hours!

Edwin is so stressed out and striking out at everyone. Also this makes 2 times he has mentioned hell. 

Poor Jenny does not get paid enough for this shit. 

Obviously they have not traveled much if they don’t know the mail gets forwarded.

And the sad moment we all realized it was not psychic lesbian love. 

“You’re a cursed walrus. That’s cool.” Oh Charles.

Charles does smile a LOT.

Esther was totally planning revenge before she knew they were stuck. Oh, deary me. I love her so much. 

Where do doctors still make house calls? Is it because he really is such a crap doctor?

I don’t think Edwin doesn’t care - he’s trusting Charles to handle Crystal - while he observes and puts together evidence. 

Honestly, Edwin a simple “We can’t talk to the living, you can.” Would have sufficed. Yes, Charles, stop being so nice. Western doctors refuse to treat women with any seriousness even when it’s not a magical malady so let’s not give Dr. Dehydration any props here. 

Married bickering. 

Crystal, while I don’t begrudge you poking through someone else’s library, those letters are not your business. 

Edwin’s repetitive use of “hysteria” cracks me up.

More married bickering. Right until it looks like Edwin could hurt himself, then Charles is so soothing.

Also, which one of them is more obsessed with the Cat King?

Poor Charles. Also, when you consider that Edwin’s calmness is because he’s seen so much worse, poor Edwin.

Crystal, all you do is talk about it.

Boarding school is a theme in this show. 

Everyone was staring because of the sprites, so she had to drop out of school. 

Where do all of Crystal’s clothes come from?

Niko looks so delighted at the prospect of Crystal being insane. She really is delightful.

So much of Edwin’s rudeness comes from a place of concern.

Are those women twins?

A dead child causes more trouble than a live one. Tell me how you really feel about children, Nurse Lady.

Such a cute map Niko.

I think Edwin liked, or at least respected his father. He is quoting him a hundred years after his death. I wonder if he didn’t have a better homelife than Charles and that is why he looks so stricken when Charles says “lets not talk about dads.” He doesn’t really understand that Charles was abused - in part because Charles hasn’t shared that and in part because our idea of abuse has changed over time. However - it should be noted that when Edwin himself was a small child there were reform movements, and anti-child abuse laws passed in England, so it isn’t fair to assume he was abused or would have no understanding of the notion. 

I love the relationship we’re seeing between these two. Charles’ gentle comments about Edwin’s “old-timey insults” immediately elicits a promise to be nicer from Edwin. 

Then his comments about liking Crystal because she’s like Edwin get this soft smile from Edwin and he breaks down and admits he isn’t upset with Crystal but himself. Charles is so quick to put the blame on the Cat King - even though he could scold Edwin for trapping the cat.

How does a ghost break a bone on the mortal plane? 

“I went with grab it.” Charles I love you.

“ANOTHER discussion about your impetuous behavior.” “Sure, mate.” Charles does shit like this all the time, clearly. 

The teacher in me feels such kinship with Jenny.  I wish I could say “cut the weird shit.” God knows I think it a lot. 

Me too Edwin. Me too.

I think we all sleep on how brilliant Charles really is. While Edwin and Crystal are bickering he’s reading the book and coming up with a solution.

Why does the jar float in thin air but not the book?

Edwin does care about Crystal. 

Okay Crystal’s speech to the sprite’s is so sad, but does anyone else expect a lion and hyenas to start a musical number when she says “you’ll never go hungry again”?

So rude that the sprites could just always “exit the body” this way but instead explode people. 

Love the sprites.

“But also dangerous and unprofessional. Do not do it again.” Is Edwin for “I care about you and you frightened me. Which Charles damn well knows. I suppose it would embarrass Edwin (and probably Crystal) for him to point that out though.

Charles please stop. We’re all in pain here.

Love Niko’s confidence.

Charles is so happy to collect new friends. 

Oh my god. So many ghosts.

Esther, my queen. 

The spellwork sequence is so cool. 

I know Monty comes off all sweet later but his grin is evil. 

[raccoonfallsharder]

Hi there! This is probably such a silly question, so I'm sorry in advance, but in your fics, how long is a "cycle"?

I've gathered that a rotation is the equivalent of about a day (I think? lol) . Is a cycle the intergalactic equivalent of like a week or maybe a month in your fics? I originally thought a year, but in WAtG its stated that Jo "crosses paths with the Yondu Clan once every fifteen cycles or so." So a year seems like the wrong assumption on my part haha

Thank you ♡

hey honeycomb! these are SUCH FUN questions because i am such an UNHINGED NERD, especially about time and trying to make things make sense in space lol (also omg please never apologize for asking questions?? ever?? you’re a delight. curiosity is beautiful and giving other people a chance to explain their thoughts/loves/interests is a gift you give whenever you ask)

so first of all it’s worth noting that i’m pretty sure in at least one of the games, it’s the opposite — a cycle is like a day, i think? and a rotation is a week or a month? (i used to know this with more certainty because last year, i had researched obsessively to find out if there was a singular canonical way of measuring the passage of time in marvel-outer-space. fyi the short answer is no). worth noting: this is how i thought of time when i was writing ᯓ⋆｡°✩practice because that takes place in the eidos universe but i deliberately didn't dwell on it too long so people could interpret the length of time however they wanted.

now, my understanding is that in the mcu, this is inverted. i had read that the mcu GOTG writers think of a rotation as being about a day and a cycle being about a week, so that is what i use in almost all of my other fics (especially the longer ones). sometimes in oneshots i default to day and week just for ease of understanding, especially for readers who may just stumble upon the story without having gotten used to my quirks.

now that’s the short answer and you can feel free to bail if you don’t want to read about the stupid amount of time i put into thinking about this lol. i swear I won’t hold it against you. for fucks sake SAVE YOURSELF

tsk. should've run.

as mentioned, i use “rotation” to indicate about a day, and “cycle” to indicate about a week. i also use “multicalendar circumrotations” or “circs” for a year-ish which is halfway made-up (the gotg holiday special mentions the multicalendar and i was like “i need a word that isn’t rotation or cycle or revolution to go with this” lol).

i also broke rotations into three shifts. for my purposes there are usually two wake shifts and one sleep shift per rotation, but i imagine some lifeforms require different amounts of rest and wakefulness - so while the start and end of shifts are standardized, how they are designated really varies by crew.

i think this was about all i had figured out when i was writing Window *:･ﾟ✧* - I think I had maybe approximated a cycle at around 8-9 days and a circ at about a year and a half. but when i started writing cicatrix.⋆☁︎:･꧂ i was referencing longer lengths of time a lot more often (and needed at least a mental guide for things like decades and ccertain chunks of years), so i expanded on my time measurements a lot more thoroughly (see below).

i don’t have anything equivalent to months but at some point i was like “i need to indicate something more than a handful of cycles and less than a circ” and so i added quarter-circs to my lexicon ‘cause months didn’t make sense in the context of a sort of “intergalactic standard” of time measurement.

there was a time when i thought about breaking down hours and minutes and shit too but then i was honestly like “dae that’s fucking bonkers. stop girl” so i decided that most universal translators are capable of doing the basic math required to calculate smaller units of time across languages lol.

a rare glimpse of dae notes/references from the top of my cicatrix notes document:

rotation: 30 hours (10/10/10 shifts) cycle: 10 rotations (300 hours) (1.79 weeks) quarter: 10 cycles circumrotation: 40 cycles (71.6 weeks) (1.38 years) 10 years = 7.26 circumrotations 4.13 years = 3 circs

anyway that's it i think, that's everything, it's ridiculous and i'm ridiculous and also thanks for giving me the opportunity to be a total loser about this. i am very cool and normal

i truly do appreciate the question honestly. may your day be full of morning glories and your night be full of good movies and tasty popcorn

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ep 6. people | myj, jjk

sugar, spice, and everything nice ep 6. people.

pairing(s): yoonji x reader x jungkook

summary: Somehow, Min Yoonji found herself in a threesome with Jeon Jungkook and his girlfriend. Somehow. And of course it's not over, because how could Yoonji stop once she's started? And what the fuck is she supposed to do the morning after? Uh oh.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; note: a discussion of depression, previous childhood abuse, touching on suicidal thoughts; pan!f!reader; pan!Yoonji; internalized homophobia; gay panic; f/f/m love triangle; threesome smut (heavy wlw focus, excessive kissing, scratching, voyeurism, m and f-receiving oral, f-masturbation, slight face-sitting); non-idol!AU - Yoonji's POV

--

Well, this was awkward.

In a book or movie, this would have been scene end. Case closed. In real life, Yoonji had to stand awkwardly in her own bedroom as Jungkook and his partner-in-crime cleaned themselves up in the bathroom. It had been a… messy situations, to say the least. She managed to throw her underwear and jeans into her laundry hamper and yanked on a pair of black sweatpants, going commando. Whether that was a good decision or not remained to be seen. She also couldn’t stand her bra dangling about under her sweater so she took it off. And put her sweater back on.

Yoonji didn’t know why she felt weird about being naked, but she did.

There was no rational reason to feel weird about it after what just transpired. Then again, what just transpired wasn’t rational. So. Yeah. Yoonji almost jumped when Jungkook walked into her bedroom.

Naked.

Uh, well, his clothes were all over the floor.

He saw her – obviously – and stopped moving for a moment, big eyes wide. Yoonji wasn’t sure what he expected. She looked away quickly, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable with her staring, as if she hadn’t ogled him balls deep in another woman less than five minutes before.

“S-Sorry,” he blurted.

“It’s okay,” she replied much too quickly. She cleared her throat and spoke more calmly. “It’s cool.”

It, no, she wasn’t cool, but Yoonji had to say something.

“I… I’ll just, uh, find my pants…”

She made an unimpressed tut. “Why? I’ve seen everything.” And turned back.

Jungkook shot up, clutching his balled-up pants in front of his crotch.

“Uh… well…” He blinked quickly. “Dunno if you, uh, wanna… continue. ‘Cause you don’t have to. Or anything.”

Her cheeks heated up. It then occurred to Yoonji that, actually, she hadn’t seen much of Jungkook’s backside. The lower half, precisely. Since obviously he had taken his shirt off before for things like swimming. And such. She winced, not enjoying her own mental gymnastics. He continued giving her an uneasy, apprehensive look.

“Yoonji-noona?”

She was startled back into reality. Her eyes darted about.

“Jungkook, ah…”

He tilted his head at her, puzzled. “Uh?”

“I’m sorry if you… um. Feel left out.”

He scratched his head. “I don’t? Or, you mean…”

They stood there. Him naked and her not. Yoonji sighed. This wasn’t like her. Aren’t we friends? She couldn’t take this strangeness after all. Perhaps it was understandable, but she didn’t like it. “I’m not trying to be weird on purpose.” Even though it was weird. Definitely. “I don’t know. Eh, I do know. I’m still a little afraid of you and I, but at the same time I’m not since we’ve been through a lot in our friendship. And I’m… I’m wrapped up in her, I think,” she confessed. She forced herself to stop looking at the floor and at him.

Turned out, he was mindlessly staring at the floor too.

Jungkook looked back up. He smiled sheepishly.

“Me too.” His face contorted. “Uh, about you and me. And her. If that makes sense.”

She pursed her lips. “I certainly saw a side of you today.”

He grimaced. “Noona, please… Understand that it’s, uh, the moment… I get excited…” His hands shifted and kept the bunched pants in front of his crotch. “Don’t tell anyone…”

Yoonji scoffed. “Who the fuck am I gonna tell that I had a threesome with you and your girlfriend?”

“Dunno, but at least tell ’em I have a nice ass.”

He jerked and there she was standing in the doorway. Running a hand through her hair, amused smile, confidently naked. She did have a nice ass, Yoonji concluded. Unlike Jungkook, she had to also wash her face. Because of Yoonji, mostly. And Jungkook’s, er, enthusiasm. His girlfriend looked from one to the other. Her hair curled over her shoulder in that recently-had-sex kind of way.

She asked the obvious.

“Are we getting dressed?”

Very direct.

“Um.” Yoonji fidgeted with the waistband of her sweatpants. “I… I feel weird with no clothes on.”

The answer came from two months at the same time.

“Why?”

Why? Good question. She almost defended herself and then she saw Jungkook’s expression. Why. Her eyes drifted to behind him. Why, indeed. “I think… Maybe.” A thought occurred to her that she never previously said out loud but was probably true. “I think I’m scared to appear weak. Being naked makes me see myself as weak, somehow.”

Her admission was met with agreement.

“Of course. You are vulnerable.”

Yoonji raised her head to scorched eyes. The other woman ticked her head and walked around Jungkook, but not before shooting him a look and making his ears turn red. Then she focused back onto Yoonji.

“My guess is that you’re probably had a few sexual experiences that sucked in the emotions department?”

She hated how accurate she was. But all Yoonji could do was let out an annoyed puff.

“A few? Probably all.”

Instead of laughing or teasing her though, the other woman nodded. Yoonji rubbed her temples and pushed her hair back, out of her face. When Yoonji was younger, her hair had been straight cut bangs and a blunt bob, but as she got older, she kept it at longer length and opted for curtain bangs. Timeless. Classic. Borderline boring so no one would look twice at her. That was how she wanted it to be. She spied her grey-and-black sleeve at the edge of her vision. Until someone interfered, that is. She raised her gaze to hers.

“I used them,” Yoonji admitted. “All men. Even if I knew the truth…” She trailed off, but the implication was clear enough. “I’m still attracted to men, so… I became one of the guys. Can’t stray if you don’t have the option, right? It’ll be easier, I told myself. But, deep down, I knew.” She looked at Jungkook guiltily. Then back to the other woman.

And she said it.

“I’m scared to like a woman.”

She didn’t know why she said it. But, also, she knew. Woman was the first thought she had when she had met her that day in the park. She had felt the pull too, even if she hadn’t wanted to. Woman. For a long time, Yoonji thought she knew what that word meant. For a long time, she fought against what that word meant, not wanting to be confined to the cage that woman seemed to hold over her. Not because she was at odds with her gender, but because if she balked to it, then it meant that she needed to face herself more honestly. She didn’t want to think of herself as a liar, which probably explained why Yoonji jumped at the chance so impulsively once it was offered.

Shit.

It must have been a short second, but the other woman regarded her with indefinite understanding. She knew, somehow. As if she too went through this thought process at some point, although probably a long time ago, and could recognize it in Yoonji. And, for the first time in her life, Yoonji felt as if someone understood her on a deeper level than anyone else.

The corner of those tempting lips tugged upward.

“Hate to break it to you, but I think you already like a woman.” Light shrug. “At least enough to fuck.”

A muscle in Yoonji’s eyelid twitched.

“You’re so freaking annoy–”

She didn’t get to finish because she was kissed. She willed her body to resist, to fight back. It was a hollow, ingenuine wish. Her body was honest, melting into those soft, memorable lips. Into her. Her luxurious scent, close again. Her insistent presence. Her body within touching distance, and Yoonji raised her hands, wanting yet reluctant.

The kiss broke into a whisper.

“You brought this because of me, right?” that silken voice purred.

Yoonji viewed those burning eyes through lashes.

“Yeah.”

Her taste lingering on her lips.

“I want you to take it off because of me too.”

Part of her wanted to say fuck off or that would never work on me or anything that deferred to common sense. The other part of her wanted to have a cleverer comeback than that. But the part of Yoonji that mattered detected the lens that being held up to her with those words. This was bait. The longer she stared into those glowing coals, the clearer their intention became. Someone who had been burned before. Someone who expected to be disappointed. Someone who expected dishonesty.

She hated to disappoint, but.

Yoonji just couldn’t bring herself to be scared anymore.

The horny had finally won out over the fear.

Her fingers grasped the bottom of the sweater that she had bought because of the woman in front of her. She pulled it up and over her head. Cool air rushed over her hot skin, making her shiver. Yoonji caught a glimpse of her stunned expression. She didn’t hide, but unease and embarrassment were creeping in, even with the sweatpants still on, since now they had seen everything now in some form or another. Yoonji would be lying if she said she was wholly confident. She had always been on the slender side. Pale, willowy. It didn’t matter. This nervousness had less to do with her actual appearance and more to do with the racing thud-thud-thud of her heart, so she reached up, took the other woman’s face in her hands, and kissed her again.

The taste of her lips erased all doubts.

It was as if time stopped. Like the world shifted. Like nothing else mattered except those lips, that tongue, those hands skimming over her elbows, and Yoonji brought them chest to chest, gasping at the supple softness. The sensation of her hard nipples against skin, but also her curves on hers. Gentle sensitive pressure tingled throughout her nerves, blissful, and she felt hands slide over her back, fingernails dancing down her spine, and before Yoonji could question herself, she murmured, “Scratch me.”

She did.

Pain blended with paradise. Yoonji gasped, her hands on the other woman’s shoulders, harder, shuddering, closing her eyes to imagine the imagery of those glistening red nails sinking into her skin, dragging down, leaving lines of flaring pink behind. Over. And over. Crisscrossing. Aching. It hurt in the best way possible. It made the moment real. The sensation of stinging pain solidified the intensity of her desire. Her want was worthy and responded to in kind, and so Yoonji leaned in and caught that talented tongue, sucking on it, mixing saliva with saliva.

The hands clawed down, sliding into her sweatpants.

A deep moan vibrated in her throat, letting go as she felt the waistband being pushed down, nails scraping over her ass, squeezing it, spreading it.

“Look at me.”

The only thing making her hesitate just a little was the constant jolt in her chest every time they locked eyes. The world fell into place. Two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly even though Yoonji wasn’t sure what the completed image was supposed to be yet. It was illogical. Irrational. Past the physical. Past the mind games that weren’t really mind games at all. She could die in these arms right now and be happy with that.

A wry smile.

The temptress shifted her gaze, and Yoonji’s head turned too, confused, forgetting she wasn’t alone, and there was Jungkook. Seated on the edge of the bed, looking back at them with big eyes and an open mouth.

At least he had the decency to still hold onto his balled-up pants.

It didn’t hide his massive erection, but it was the thought that counted.

“Uh…”

“Having fun?”

Yoonji frowned, nestling deeper into the embrace. “Don’t objectify us.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “Well, you are objectively hot, noona.”

“Y… You…” Hot blood rushed to her ears.

“He’s not wrong, you know.”

Now Yoonji wanted to look at neither of them. “Fuck you.”

That husky voice chuckled darkly.

“The sooner, the better. Please.”

-

“Do you want to touch him?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I want to touch you right now. Call it obsession.”

She tried to come off calm and collected. The other woman could see the forest beyond the trees. Yoonji thought that she would be called out. Instead, the response was, good, I wasn’t ready to give him up to you yet, and she was removed from the scrutiny of those dark, knowing eyes. Between kisses, Jungkook was saying something, but Yoonji was preoccupied with the graceful back presented to her, letting the other two be entangled with each other for the moment.

Her fingertips touched that smooth skin.

Traced the shoulder blades of the other woman. Remembered her touch, soft and insistent. Yoonji had calluses from her fingers, both from working on and playing guitars. She wondered how that felt for someone unaccustomed to such roughness. Then again, her partner-in-crime was workout junkie Jungkook. Maybe she has a preference for roughness. Her fingertips drifted down her spine, bending down to trail kisses after, listening to the feminine body under her. The tremble. The soft gasps. The vibration of pleasure under her lips heavenly, delicious, pressing her tongue flat against skin and licking upwards.

Her head turned as Yoonji rose, and lips met lips, traces of Jungkook still lingering to her tongue.

“Damn, that’s fucking hot.”

Yoonji cracked open an eye to glare at him, who simply gave her an am-I-wrong shrug.

No, he wasn’t.

Watching her give him head was fascinating.

Even without Jungkook’s yelp and subsequent whining, she could tell she was witnessing a master at oral. No hands, only tongue, and a flexible one at that, licking around his balls with his cock fully buried into her throat. Yoonji was pretty damn confident of her own tongue technology, but sadly she was out of practice. She doubted she could do swallow that fast and that deep without warming up at the very least.

She didn’t mean to stare.

Then again, this was happening above her head so she basically had a front-row seat.

Jungkook was kneeling on the bed, one hand clutching the headboard, his hard cock lost in the depths of an impossible mouth. Fuck, she even made it look sexy. It wasn’t sloppy or uncontrolled. Swift, constant, and the same depth every time. Yoonji heard Jungkook ask if her needed to be lower and she wondered how his lover was supposed to respond with a mouthful of dick.

One of the woman’s hands on the bed moved and tapped the inside of his knee, making him spread them further apart.

Well, evidently, they had their own language for that.

Yoonji slid down a little more, staring from more set of lips to the other.

Wet, sweet-smelling, divine.

An inkling of self-loathing nagged at her that she should have learned to hate it. She did not. She reached up, tracing, admiring the shape and shiver of another woman’s pussy. Clean-shaven. Not necessary, yet she appreciated the unconcealed beauty. She ran her fingertip over the slightly puffy lips, probably due to arousal. Impossibly supple, silky skin. Foreign but familiar. Yoonji realized she had never seen another woman from this angle. Not in real life, anyway. Excitement bubbled in her chest. She slipped a finger inside, enveloping herself in the quiver of those silky walls, feeling them tighten around her. The scent was heavier now, stronger, and Yoonji realized it wasn’t really what she was looking at that was turning her on so much.

It was who.

She placed her hand on the other woman’s thigh. Nudged her hips down, angling them toward her mouth, and drank.

Damn, she was thirsty.

The viscous juices stuck to her lips, her tongue, the heady taste flooding her mouth, and for a moment she only licked, shoving her tongue inside the wet heat, fuck, so good, how does she taste so good, heavy and rich and addictive, suffocating herself with the soft thighs around her head. Yoonji had tasted herself before, experimentally, and she hadn’t thought much of it. Her own taste was rather mild, she had thought. This was different. There was a sweetness, yes. Musk, perhaps, but more than that. Her arousal covered her tongue like syrup, and Yoonji had the compulsive urge to smother herself, paint herself with it, drown in her.

Yoonji heard Jungkook groan and she wanted to say, same.

She tilted her head and ran her tongue upwards, circling.

She did not expect to find what she was looking for in her first try. She didn’t. That was okay though; they shared the same anatomy thankfully, and Yoonji did know that she herself enjoyed exploring tongue. She listened for the hitch in breath and, with slight coaxing, she was rewarded with tense thighs under her fingers and a vibrating hum above her head. She felt the dip and pressure on her tongue, concentrating at that precise spot and closing her lips around it.

And she pleasured her.

Admittedly, this was probably affecting her more than her partner. Yoonji hoped that she could forgive and realize that she had no idea what the hell she was doing. What she knew was from her own experience only – constant pressure, not too aggressive, and no straying from the pace. Still, it was impossible to ignore the decadent slick on her chin, the weight of another on top, the forceful thrust as those hips bucked and pressed her head into the mattress, mounting her face a bit more firmly, and Yoonji couldn’t help but moan in her throat, feeling messy and dominated and wanting more, more, digging her fingers of one hand into the soft curve of that perfect ass.

Her other hand snaked down her stomach.

She couldn’t stop.

Diving between her legs, stroking herself, leaking wetness and collecting it on two fingers to stimulate herself more as she ate another pussy out, rubbing her tongue against that pulsing clit, straining her jaw to keep the suction. It was hard to breathe but she didn’t care. Tightness blossomed over her chest, her upper thighs, her neck, straining, closer, adrenaline overtaking, so close to the end, so close. If Yoonji had more of her senses, she would have relished in Jungkook moaning loudly in astonishment and begging for mercy. All she could hear was the roar of her own heartbeat in her ears and the delicate but inevitable cracking of her resolve getting thinner and thinner, harshly rubbing her swollen, throbbing clit as her tongue worked on another.

“Ah, fuck!”

This she did hear shattering through her reverie and then she felt a hand grip the crown of her head, those hips freezing in place, and then hot, gushing spasms under her lips, onto her chin, shaking and spilling, heaving flinches of pleasure radiating through her. Cutting off her air. Her eyes rolled back in her head and Yoonji came, her lower body locked, clamping a hand over her trembling pussy, her juices seeping through her fingers, containing the excruciating heat and aching pleasure with pressure, sending the turbulent waves up her torso and into her head in low, expansive shudders.

The orgasm made her feel like she was floating on electrified, sensual air.

It has never felt like this.

Not the high.

The attraction.

Fuck.

-

Yoonji woke up to shirtless Jeon Jungkook face down in her bed.

Snoring away his problems. Absolutely rawdogging it without a pillow. Someone who didn’t know him would be appalled at his complete disregard for neck support. Or maybe scream at his naked presence altogether. Occasionally she had shared a bed with Hoseok and once with Seokjin; both enjoyed the habitual ritual of matching pajamas. Yoonji had never shared a bed with Jungkook before, but she had heard enough from Jimin and Taehyung about his sleeping habits so she wasn’t surprised at his current state. His head was a mop of black hair. His muscular back rose and fell. Well, he was alive. Somehow the covers had migrated around his waist, which explained why Yoonji was freezing her tits off.

She just sighed and begrudgingly sat up.

Then realized she, too, was naked.

Oh, yeah.

For a brief moment she wished she had been drunk enough to forget everything that happened last night. Not even close. The memories played back in jarring flashes and splashes of sensation. She didn’t deny them, but if she didn’t get out of bed right now there would probably be (wet) consequences. As if her sheets hadn’t seen enough. She needed to do laundry.

But, first.

There was someone missing.

Yoonji tried not to feel disappointed. It was pretty damn difficult. She looked down, seeing clothes scattered all over the floor. She noted right away that the dark red slip dress and black bomber jacket were still here. That relieved her a bit, although Yoonji did not think for long why that was so. Instead, she went to her dresser and yanked out an oversized beige sweatshirt, pulling it over her head to warm up a bit.

She heard the sound of running water from her bathroom.

To say hope leapt to her throat was an understatement.

I don’t care, I swear.

She filed that thought away in the mental compartment of and-other-lies-I-tell-myself and quietly made her way to the bathroom, stepping over the clothes absentmindedly. Jungkook was not going to wake up unless he wanted to or if a bomb went off. Even then, hard to say. She felt a little bad leaving him behind, yet the idea of being alone with her, if only for a few moments, if only…

The bathroom door was slightly ajar.

She saw a sliver of someone in the mirror, bending down. The splash of water sang in her ears. Yoonji lightly touched the door with her fingertips and softly called out her name.

A shiver went up her spine as she did so.

“Hm?”

She heard the unceremonious sound of spitting and the door opened wider to a sleepy face and throaty mumble.

“Ah, Yoonji. I had to rinse out my mouth to save you from trauma.”

She couldn’t reply for a moment. Is it to fair for someone to look so beautiful in the morning? She didn’t look that different from last night – obviously, Yoonji, she hadn’t been wearing any makeup, stop being an idiot – but her lips were now deep mauvy-pink. Glossy. A single water droplet clung to her full lower lip. She was wearing Jungkook’s black hoodie, swamped in the fabric, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It still smelled like him, that clean laundry scent persisting amidst sultry, feminine perfume. Her hair was messy from sleep. She frowned and ran a hand through it, using the dampness of her palm to straighten it out a bit.

“Trauma?” Yoonji echoed, not listening.

The devil’s smile reappeared. “Dental hygiene is important.”

She felt her cheeks flush, realizing she should keep her mouth pointed away. “I have spares. Here, let me get a toothbrush for you,” she mumbled, embarrassment rising as she noticed her voice was croaky from sleep.

The other woman stepped aside to move out of the way, calling after her back. “It’s fine. I can just go home.”

But Yoonji was already kneeling, rifling through the bottom cabinet. She found a white toothbrush, still sealed in the plastic case over the bristles, and shot up quickly, holding it out to a stunned face. Those eyes darted from the outstretched offering to Yoonji’s expression.

That gaze softened to a kindling burn.

“Ah… You don’t need to.”

Yoonji poked the air with the toothbrush, glaring stubbornly.

They stared either other down. Proximity close, and yet Yoonji could sense the distance in those scorched eyes. Lashes lowering. Expression undefined. It was only an item, and they both knew what it meant if she accepted it.

She gave Yoonji a gentle final warning.

“A toothbrush is for a repeat offender, you know,” that husky voice reminded her.

For a moment, silence.

Then Yoonji narrowed her eyes and grabbed the woman’s hand with her free one, shoving the white toothbrush into her open palm. Closing those long fingers around it while her heart thudded like a relentless bass beat, so hard it threatened to swallow her chest, and then she immediately het go and turned around, grabbing her own black toothbrush.

“Just brush your fuckin’ teeth.”

Yoonji did not look up to see the reaction.

She couldn’t, busying herself with her routine, running the bristles under the water before jamming toothpaste onto them. Right into her mouth it went, furiously brushing without even once looking at the mirror. It was several, heart wrenching seconds of panic.

And then.

She felt a presence lean in beside her.

“I can borrow this, right?”

A hand with red-and-orange glistening fingernails gestured to the toothpaste. Yoonji nodded gruffly and handed it over, backing away to give access to the sink. For several minutes, they stood there in silence, not looking at each other, brushing away. That was only mildly a lie, because Yoonji did look over to see the other woman staring at the wall, or her white towels, or probably nothing at all. She seemed deep in thought. Yoonji had to bend over to rinse out her mouth first.

She made sure to wipe the lip of the plastic cup she used before handing it over.

A surprised eyebrow raised.

Yoonji cocked one back. “Your face was literally between my legs. We can share a damn cup.”

She saw her stifle a laugh and concede.

It was a little awkward, standing there as another finished her routine, but Yoonji didn’t want to leave yet. She wanted to feel that warmth of her presence a little longer. She saw that the hem of the hoodie skimmed her upper thighs and raised slightly when she bent over the sink. Not that Yoonji was looking at that magnificent ass. Oops. Yet she felt a faint twinge of envy seeing those curves. She was proud of her slender legs, yet sometimes she was jealous of women with more shapely thighs and calves. Curves were an unmistakable, prominent sexiness. Her own slim body type sometimes made Yoonji feel more like a pretty girl rather than a commanding feminine presence. She took the moment to appreciate and admire though. I got to touch her. Hold her. Be with her, if only for one night. It was a good chance to turn comparison into a silver lining.

The sound of water was no longer present.

She felt that prickling sensation when she knew someone is looking at her.

Yoonji looked up.

Jungkook’s girlfriend was watching at her with amusement.

Oh, shit, I’m as bad as he is.

And then the distance was gone and her air was replaced with minty breath. Soft lips, pressing to hers.

And, like Jungkook, Yoonji melted with one kiss.

It’s only a kiss, silly.

The heat drew away and she drew a breath, trying not to shudder. Had to open her eyes, bewildered that she had closed them. They glanced at each other. Then didn’t. The morning-after air felt a little different. More delicate. Strangers that knew how the other tasted. Yoonji looked back to her. She was absentmindedly flicking water off the toothbrush head.

“What?”

Those scorched eyes returned to her. A pause.

Then a faraway smile.

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me,” Yoonji insisted.

Something in that expression. Familiar but unknown. She couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu and jamais vu all at once. It was subtle. She watched a mental battle play out in the silence, then a not-so smile appeared. One that Yoonji knew well.

She had formed it herself numerous times.

“I think my younger self would be shocked to know what psycho shit I’m doing right now,” her maybe-please-let-it-be lover mused. “Shocked that I’m even still alive.”

Yoonji stared at her and understood.

She had mentioned it to the others before when they had been going through hard times, but never delved into it. It was a depressing topic of conversation, after all. The only person who really knew how dark her thoughts had become at one point was her best friend, Jung Hoseok. He truly listened to anything she said without judgement. Hoseok had convinced her to go and speak to a professional about it. She hadn’t wanted to, said she was over it, said she didn’t think like that anymore, even thought that such discussions couldn’t help, but once again Hoseok was right. She hadn’t processed those internal demons as well as she thought. Now, she was able to speak more calmly about it.

“Mine, too,” Yoonji admitted quietly.

A half-smile, but this time directed at her.

“I didn’t want us to have that in common.”

Yoonji shrugged. “Despite my best efforts, I’m a sensitive bitch.”

A small laugh that came from her chest. Yoonji found she very much enjoyed hearing it. Get a grip. The source of her stomach flutters tilted her head.

“Was it them or was it you?”

She thought back to those therapy sessions years ago. “Me. Me feeling unworthy, never enough. Me feeling like I was falling into the abyss. Me thinking I needed to be someone to somebody,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I hated being around people. I hated being alone more. It didn’t matter, because I was always alone when surrounded by people. It got so bad that I couldn’t be around others without feeling like I was suffocating. I never wanted anyone to see the real me. She is not nice, not ladylike, and she could not fit nicely into the boxes society placed down for her. I thought she… No, I thought I was a burden. I thought I didn’t need to be here.” She glanced up, expecting pity.

The other woman simply nodded, listening.

Truthfully, Yoonji appreciated that. She continued. “I had a friend in university who was really into music. He needed someone to help him play piano. Someone in the music department gave him my name. I didn’t think too much about it. I was still determined to stay closed off. But, somehow, through him…” I met them all through Namjoon. First Hoseok. Then Jimin. Seokjin. Taehyung. Jungkook. “I don’t think I considered them friends back then, but that was who they were. And then I realized that, even if I think I’m not that great, maybe I should try to be for people who care about me, even if I think it’s misguided. They chose to stand by me. I should at least do the same. Life is too short to not try.”

“Hmmmm.” This little miscreant had the audacity to smirk. “You are a sensitive bitch.”

Yoonji scowled and redirected the question. “What about you?”

That gaze darkened.

“Them.”

A light scoff and then a sigh.

“Being a successful daughter was the purpose of my birth. I wasn’t a son, after all. Had to make up for that. I think I was told that over a million times. If not, I was told I could be replaced,” she added with a morbid chuckle. “My worth depended on what achievements I could obtain. At the expense of others, of myself, it didn’t matter. There were consequences if I couldn’t claw my way to the top, so I did. Top of my class. Pretty meant thin until I was skin and bones. Dead on the inside so everyone could fill me with their expectations. I wanted to end it. Just so I could have something, anything, that could only be my own.” She straightened, cracking her neck with an exhale. “Got so close and then…” Shrugged, shaking her head. “I was just a teenager. I figured, well, at the very least I should become an adult. Then I could legally drink soju. Can you believe I still cared that much about rules?” She really laughed then, placing a hand over her mouth. “Turns out soju is disgusting. I chose sex as my drug of choice. You can at least force people to take a shower.”

“You probably haven’t had good soju,” Yoonji pointed out.

“True. Even so, I didn’t like how I felt. Buzzed and out of control.”

Made sense. Yoonji peered into the depths of that gaze but didn’t find any embarrassment. I am not gonna die boring. She wondered when it changed. She didn’t have to ask. Like a mind reader, that sly smile caught on.

“I picked a year in the future. Reevaluate then, if you will,” she said, implying the worst. “And I lived that year. It was awful. Went broke, got myself into a love triangle that collapsed on all sides, slept surrounded by cockroaches. Fat ones, too. Was this close,” she snickered, nearly tapping her fingertips together. “To being homeless on top of it. But, I didn’t do it.”

“Why?”

She paused as if to contemplate. “Why…? Because I put myself in those situations. Because I made those poor decisions, and I saw those consequences as a gift. Because they are.” Those burning eyes considered her for a moment. “We all live for control that we will never have. Some people don’t think about it. Some people choose to give up. Some people choose to feel in control by manipulating others. And some people, like me, choose to be utter batshit crazy to save my own sanity.”

This time Yoonji laughed herself. “Gotta go insane to stay sane.”

The other woman joined in, ticking her chin in her direction.

“Put that on a t-shirt so I can wear it.”

The mirth died down. Her lack of fear and calculated impulsivity became clear now. Shit, that’s what hooked Jungkook, huh? But Yoonji could understand. Hot, wise, great sense of style. Wicked good at sex with a killer smirk. This was someone that didn’t want to be anyone else. He loved that shit. And I guess that means me too. Fuck.

“When did you know that you weren’t part of the heteronormative cult?”

The question broke Yoonji out of her thoughts. “Uh…” She was honest. “I think I always knew. I never thought I was off until high school, when relationships started getting dramatic. When others were judged for who they liked. When we were asked to judge others for who they liked. I realized I was different. I had never accepted gender being two vastly different groups of people. Everyone is just…”

“People.”

“Yeah.” That and she had felt that she was equally curious about all bodies. “I also think there’s lots of arbitrary traits that can be used to define male or female. None of them are as important to me as integrity. Anyone can live with integrity no matter who they are or how they define themselves.”

“Ooooh. Clever little cat you are.”

Yoonji felt a muscle in her temple twitch. “And you?”

The deviant leaned against the doorframe and playfully shrugged. “I always knew. A body is just a body.”

Well, that was chilling.

Those scorched eyes returned.

Yoonji frowned, then asked, “Why Jungkook?”

Those full lips parted and her expression softened. She smiled to her frown.

“Because he proved to me that a body is more than just a body.”

Silence.

God, Jungkook is a dumbass.

“Noona?”

They both turned to face the hallway at the same time.

A sleepy, yawning form was making his way down the hallway, thankfully wearing his pants. Barely, though. The waistband rested on the v-line of his hips. Jungkook scratched his head, blinking hard, still shirtless and red-cheeked from passing out on his face. He stretched, making all of the muscles in his chest become defined with his effort.

“Oh, you have my hoodie. No wonder I couldn’t find it.”

“You don’t need it,” was the cheerful response.

Jungkook pouted and spotted her. “Oh, hey, Yoonji-noona. Do you still have my toothbrush from last time?”

She clicked her tongue. “Mhm, stinky breath.”

“Argh, I’m trying to fix that,” he protested, barging into the already crowded bathroom.

Yoonji was already opening the medicine cabinet and taking down the purple toothbrush from the top shelf, pushing away all the other four brushes lying beside it. Blue, pink, green, yellow. There used to be five, but she didn’t expect Hoseok to stay over anytime soon. Keeping one for over a year and a half was just gross. His usual color was red. Since Yoonji’s apartment was close to a main train station, various members of the group often stayed over to sleep before heading over to wherever they needed to go. She had been asked too many times if she had a spare, thus her current system.

Men were forgetful, sigh.

“Here, dummy.”

He took the purple toothbrush out of the plastic case and ruffled her hair annoyingly. “Thanks, Yoonji-ah.”

She smacked his hand and then froze.

Jungkook froze too, realizing what he had done.

He used to do vexing things like that all the time, but not lately. And then he did it now, without thinking. He actually dropped the honorifics a long time ago, often speaking to her informally before, and Yoonji had noticed how they had reappeared again. She hadn’t cared about the lack of formality, nor grasped the distance the return of it had created. With the appearance of his new female companion, she had concluded that it made sense, of course, for him to distance himself from his female friend.

And.

Yoonji now realized how sad she had been without his constant minor annoyances.

She smacked his hand again and frowned.

Jungkook looked offended. Their girlfriend laughed.

“Brush your teeth, you delinquent. I’m going to order breakfast.”

And Yoonji squeezed herself out of there, running off to find her phone.

-

ep 7. let's be happy together. sugar, spice, and everything nice

--

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

[bakageta]

The last one: what have they been putting off forever, even though it would take ten minutes?

Me: writing this fic.... just kidding it took longer than ten minutes 😅

The little infirmary bed in Ted Kord’s secret hidden basement was as enclosed and cluttered as everything else Kard had hidden away in his mansion. It reminded Jaime of a bunk bed an elementary school friend had, only much more solid. Thanks to the scarab, Jaime could see every scratch and dent and read every dusty, scribbled note, even if he couldn’t understand exactly what they meant. He was covered in sensors which connected to monitors which recorded data from him and Khaji and, if he didn’t focus on the fact that he could move his arms and legs, Jaime would be right back in Victoria’s lab.

He took a deep breath in, ignored the squirming feeling in his mouth and how many new teeth he had and the clenching of legs against his spine and all the weird aches that had accumulated over the past couple of weeks–almost as bad as the days after all this stuff had started when Khaji was– and exhaled.

This couldn’t keep happening. Jaime couldn’t keep putting off asking Khaji what was happening to him. The Scarab would tell him, he knew that like he knew his name. Hell, Jaime wasn’t even sure he knew why he kept putting it off. 

Or at least, he didn’t want to think about why he kept putting it off.

“Khaji Da.” He tried to say its full name with authority, like his mother did to him and Milla when she’d caught them in something. Hopefully the scarab would pick up the context.

Yes, Jaime? Khaji’s voice in his head was smooth like it wasn't aware of his churning thoughts. 

“What–” his voice broke for a moment as something happened in his throat. It wasn't on purpose,  just another inconvenient part of whatever was happening Jaime hoped. He coughed and cleared his throat. “What’s happening to me, Khaji?”

Optimization of the host body. 

“You've said that before.” Jaime’s tone was flat. Disappointed. “But I need to know. What's happening? Is something wrong? Are you doing this? Why?”

Was Khaji telling him the whole truth? Would it?

My programming was damaged in transit.

“What?”

I am one of many scarab units created by the Reach to discover, infiltrate, and exploit alien worlds.

Khaji was telling the truth. Jaime knew it in the same instinctive way he knew  how to speak to Khaji, how to move in the armor, how to breathe. He wasn’t surprised, even though he should have been, as Khaji recited the facts of its creation.

The goals of the Reach are incompatible with your goals. The damage done to my programming and the repairs I made based off of your neurology allow me to disobey, but I am still vulnerable to root commands.

At the top of Jaime’s spine, Khaji clutched its legs around his vertebra and his hand twitched in a sympathetic mirroring grasp he had no input in.

I do not wish to cause fear, but if I am forced to shut down I do not want you to be vulnerable. 

Jaime remembered how Khaji’s inert shell had felt around him in Victoria's secret base. How it had been cold. How it had felt like his skin was pulling away from his carapace. He wasn’t sure which one of them had pulled up that memory from the depths where he'd buried it.

“Okay. I get it.” Because how could he not? Jaime had lived through that just as much as Khaji had. “I get it.”

He sighed. Clenched his eyes shut. Tried to reconcile the part of him that accepted everything Khaji said implicitly with the part that should have been afraid. The part that didn’t seem to exist. Jaime was upset. But only because he somehow wasn’t surprised. He was angry. But only because he wasn’t told what was going on.

Jaime opened his eyes and looked at the equipment in the infirmary, backlit by standby lighting. Jenny had done basic testing before telling him to try to settle down, to stay until she figured out what was happening. He missed his family suddenly. Wanted them here, even if they’d be loud and annoying. He wanted to be unaware. Distracted.

He couldn’t.

“Why doesn’t this bother me, Khaji?”

Khaji didn’t answer at first, compiling data, formatting it so he’d understand. Jaime knew what it was doing in the same way he knew everything else. When Khaji finally responded, it wasn’t with words.

It was simple. A Scarab and its host were a single unit. Anything one knew, so did the other. Even if Jaime wasn’t aware of what was happening; he knew. It was like proprioception but for information. If Jaime wanted to know something, then he just needed to look.

He didn’t want to look. Not now at least.

@wazzappp I still sometimes work on this fic...

[veintrry]

TAINT THIS PAPER WITH LOVE

writer!kunikuzushi x gn!reader, fluff, romance, love letter, nervous kuni bcs feelings.

part one (wink wink)

an: RAHHHHHHHH

Writing was something that had come so easily to Kuni, till he had to write a letter that would appeal to you. When did this pen feel so awkward in-between his fingers? And just when did these string of words he wrote sound so foreign to him... Love isn't easy to express.

Kunikuzushi doesn't think he has ever felt so uncomfortable at his desk, staring at a blank paper, blinking in hopes it would write itself with heart melting words that would make you grin. Yet, that never happens.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. This was far worse than some writers block. The words- Well, the feelings were so easy to sense, but to put them down on paper? It seemed like an impossible task. Folding over, he groans into his hand as his elbow stays rested on the dark wood of the desk, it's polish still refined.

Why did he have to give himself such a short time period too? A day, just a day. No, not even 24 hours, way less. He picks up the pen again, his thumb on the top as he repeatedly pushes it down letting the sound fill the room as he thinks. Just let your mind wander...

And it does. Like it always does, his thoughts trail back to you. Not actual words or things that may describe you but visual images of you or at least the vague image of you. He didn't care before but much to his dislike his ability to visualise things isn't as potent as he'd like. Yet, he still can see fragments, the lines of your smile, the depth of your eyes and the way you move. There were smaller details he took note of, the shape of your ear, the style of your hair and the state of your nails.

He wishes he could just translate this onto paper.

There was a gentleness he felt with you when he wasn't freaking out about these emotions. There was a calm that he absorbs but he fears at the same time, worrying there was a storm arriving and he'd be the cause of it. But, asking you to come again tomorrow, that was a ray of light from the gloomy clouds, it sprouted hope. Maybe. Just maybe. There is no storm.

He lets his head fall back, staring at the ceiling pointlessly before sighing. He's being doing that a lot lately.

...Technically, this wouldn't be his first time addressing a letter towards you, though the past times he's done it he was unaware of the fact you'd be receiving it. Maybe, he could try to do the same? Just harbour the same emotions, Kuni. Don't think, just write.

If you were in front of me, what would I want to say?

_

Familiar bells jingle, declaring the entrance of someone new and each time he hears the sound his eyes shoot up. He can't tell if he's anticipating your arrival in excitement or fear. Whichever one it is, he knows that one thing for sure is that he feels nervous. Insanely so, that he barely can keep himself occupied writing others letters.

He thought actually finishing the letter was bad, but waiting to give it to you is even worse. So. Much. Worse.

He's beginning to think his chest is going to explode from the anxiety. Though, there is some joy to it, as if he is looking forward to your expression.

Biting his bottom lip, he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, almost daydreaming about it. Surely, your reaction will be positive? Your past letters were from him on purpose so you'll like this. What if it's a lukewarm reception? What if he doesn't make you understand how he feels and the words he had repeated a multitude of times and the phrases he's crafted a thousand times don't work? There's a million thoughts in his minds and none of them are reassuring. He can feel his stomach being stirred like a cauldron of the worse concoctions and it's making him sick.

Till the bell rings.

Would you think it's weird if he ever told you that he began to recognise your footsteps? He'll keep that to himself. A hand is placed gently on the envelope holding his feelings, though the fingers that wrap around the folds are almost possessive, unsure if they should allow this letter to be given away. Unsure if he should offer his emotions just to get shot down. Yeah, maybe this is a bad idea and he should just-

Two knocks resound from beside him, he turns to you, your hand above his desk as your finger taps the wood.

"I'm here."

You're smiling.

Curse this world.

"You took your time." My tone comes out dry, almost scolding in a way. You give me a sheepish smile. "I didn't want to seem too eager." So in turn he was the one made to do so when he had been waiting for you impatiently.

He simply gives you a hum of acknowledgment, then sits there for a while. You don't move, awaiting to be given your letter but he doesn't seem to budge. A hesitant voice comes out, "Uhm, Kuni?" Archons, how he cherished the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. Indigo eyes spare you a glance, encouraging you to continue. "The letter...?" Would it be stupid to say he hoped you forgot.

"The letter. Right, right..."

Despite his words he seems to hesitate before finally letting out a deep breath as his hand reaches to the storage below the desk and pulls out a perfectly folded envelope. He turns his head away, just slightly, handing it to you wordlessly and without a glance spared towards you.

On the other hand, you were left admiring the envelope. It was nothing special, yet the contents of it were.

You take it excitedly, the pads of your thumb and index rppessed against the smooth texture of it. Your hand moves and your fingers begin to open it. This catches his attention. He quickly turns to you with an expression of disbelief and a hint of redness on his ears. "You're going to open it here?! At least open it outside of the store..."

You tilt your head slightly, "Why?" You continue speaking, conveying your reason, "It's better if I do it in front of you, right? That way you can get my honest reaction." The tone you speak in is somewhat teasing as though to say that this is a way of seeing just how well he did.

He opens his mouth, attempting to rebuttal, though all that comes out are incoherent noises, earning a chuckle from you. A defeated sigh leaves his mouth and he turns away once more, his other hand waving you off as in to quickly open it already and you oblige with ease.

The next few minutes are silent. Sure, there was the slight rustling of papers when the wind of the turning fan met them and the sounds of breathing, but it almost blended into the background as you read his letter...

"Dear moron,

I love you.

I wanted to get that out of the way, just to make this clear. Writing this or at least, trying to, has been a hindrance. I keep trying to form words I think you'd like. I keep trying to make this appealing to you, but just what do you like? I know you have a rather odd way of thinking, I know your taste in books and I know that you're dense. Immensely so. Maybe I am too. I also know you like me. If I'm right, which I don't doubt I am considering your little trick with those letters... I'm free after this.

Yours truly,

Kuni. (ps. turn the paper around, loser.)"

And you do so, you do just that and turn the letter around to where you find more writing, this time lengthier and clearly written with a different intent. Your words glaze over each word, intaking the tone and you swear you can almost hear it. You peek over the letter gazing at the violet-haired man but hiss face is turned away yet, the corner of your lips quirk up seeing the red of his ears.

It feels like you're taking a century to read what he wrote, he had stolen a few glances but the moment you turn the letter he fully committed to averting his gaze, a hand to his mouth as he muttered curses, his mind flooded with what the hell you could be thinking right now.

Two knocks sound out, you've tapped his desk again. As he is about to turn around there's a warm blow of air at his ears and he feels his ears rumble at just the proximity of your breath. "You're really forward." He couldn't tell if you were being sarcastic or not but that was the last thing on his mind as he finally faces you, seeing so close to him. He doesn't think you've ever worn such an expression before. If anyone else was looking they'd think you were up to no good and he'd have to agree, though, he can tell there's some glee in your eyes. "I could say the same for you... Then, is that a yes?"

"No." He swears he feels his heart sink.

"It's a definite yes."

Kuni begins to regret ever giving you that letter, "You jest too much." You let out a sound of agreement, "Yeah, but you don't seem to dislike it." Taunting. How fitting of you.

Though, he can't help but focus on the fact that you actually agreed to this... especially when you're donning such a prideful appearance too. Even if you're teasing him more than you ought to, he doesn't mind, in fact, he thinks he likes it. It just means he's closer to you now. "I don't. It means you really like me. Don't you?" There's a moments hesitation from you as you observe the change on his demeanour, a playful smirk on his lips as his eyes glimmer with a certain amusement. Earning a gentle nod from you, you reaffirm his words.

"I do."

back contents of the letter;

"Sometimes I believe you're killing me just by merely being around me. It feels as though you're making me go through torture each time you let me catch a glimpse of you. I begin to think that you must be driving me insane because there's no other way I can explain this. But, you're divine. To me, you are everything and more. I don't think I could ever put into words the way I honour you, that smile of yours, your voice that puts my thoughts to a halt and has me anticipating the next time I'll get to hear you.

I wish I was closer to you, as close as I can be. I wish to express my love easier, to tell you it how it is without worrying about you'll take it. Tell me, is the only way to explain how I feel sappy words and deep analogies? You like me, right. You have letters from me. But they're different from this. This is truly from me. My words aren't sophisticated or smart, they don't pierce your heart at my ability to deduce what you want to hear. This is a mess, uncollected and disorganised. Yet, I don't want to sell you a fantasy. My love for you is a frenzy, much like the one you set my heart on, so I won't pretend to be tame. I want you, I love you. That's how it is, and I intend to devote myself to proving that to you it I must, because when I tell you that I like you it's not just an overused phrase but the closest way I can tell you how I feel even if it only shows an inkling of it.

Maybe I'm not right for you. But I want to be."

[desceros]

Hello! Big fan! I had a couple of questions that I'd been wondering about. I hope they don't sound accusatory, I don't mean them that way, I was just curious to see if I was understanding. Basically, I started re-reading to catch all the little differences and I noticed two things:

April was touching Donnie pretty regularly out the gate. Does he not have trouble with her touch?

2. In light of chapter 23, I'm curious how Donnie can notice the second Viola-chan is upset through a mask, but missed all the romantic cues?

Feel free to answer, one, none, or both. I'm sorry if they've been asked before and, again, just thank you for sharing your work with all of us! Have a wonderful day!

wow!! excellent eye, anon-chan! that's the first time someone has noticed! or at least mentioned it. i'm very impressed! :0

so this hasn't come up yet, but to some extent, april can touch donnie, sort of, over his clothes and on his shell. he really prefers her not to and gets irritable when she does, but when there's something going on (...like donnie being nasty to viola-chan in chapter 2) she's going to do something about it (like pinching him or smacking his shell; also to stop him from saying something nasty after mistaking viola-chan for an anti-mutant bigot). but that's as far as they go. anything more than a brief touch, donnie doesn't tolerate it, and it's quite rare.

you may have noticed that april is less surprised than the others when she hears that donnie touches viola-chan, and that's why. to her, it's not as. hm. shocking? there's actually a scene coming up uh... soon-ish... chapter after next maybe? where april talks to viola-chan about this very thing. so i shan't say more on the topic!

as for your second question, donnie doesn't know what's wrong with viola-chan in chapter 23. all he knows is that, for some reason, she's masking, and that disturbs him. it's quite common for autistic people to study others in an attempt to learn how to mirror their emotions and to mask. (i do this myself without realizing it often times, and on purpose if i'm, like, in a business meeting or talking to someone important.)

donnie, being the way he is, over the course of turtle time and also just from spending time with viola-chan, has done this to an extreme. he's meticulously catalogued every little twitch her face can make, across a wide berth of emotional states. recordings of her voice. thorough examinations of her movements. he knows her. so when she starts acting strangely out of nowhere, in a manner that seems artificial, he takes note. then, when he sees how viola-chan reacts to leo, that's when he puts together that the masking is something from a place of harm, and that leo is likely the cause. hence begins the interrogation.

i'd go into a deeper analysis of donnie's emotional state for viola-chan and romance specifically, but... hm.... that's perhaps leaning a bit into spoiler territory. by which i mean i started to answer this like. three different ways and kept butting against spoilers, hahaha so i shan't say any more on that, either!

anywho thank you for your ask, and i hope that cleared things up. uh. a little tiny bit since a lot of it is "you'll learn soon" as an answer hahahaha