#and i sort of think that maybe critical thinking should be applied here since it romanticises a relationship between an adult and a child | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genericpuff · 1 month

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saw a post criticizing lore rekindled a while back, and one of the points made was "it's unfair to rachel that someone else can profit off and make money off her work"

do you profit off lore rekindled??? i don't remember if you ever said that you were monetizing lore rekindled, so i'm unsure where this piece of information came from

I literally do NOT profit off Rekindled in any way shape or form, it's a Tumblr comic that's free to read, zero subscriptions, paywalls, or ads.

I did just recently open a Patreon and apply my Twitch channel to become affiliate, but 1. my Patreon doesn't have any paid members yet , 2. my Patreon won't be offering rewards that limit the reading experience of Rekindled (it's gonna be like random doodles n junk), and 3. I haven't even streamed since I applied for Affiliate and people are watching the streams for art and lo-fi, not for any sort of exclusive reading experiences that wouldn't also be accessible on Tumblr (you just get to watch me slowly work on Rekindled while playing FF XIV LMAOO) All of these restrictions I have in place is to prevent exactly what folks assume or accuse me - profiting off Rachel's IP. At the end of the day I just wanna create an AU fanfic project, even if it's created out of disappointment for what could have been.

I *do* spend a few hundred a month though for my assistant. So I'm working on Rekindled completely at a loss, out of my own pocket. So in that regard, even if I were to monetize any part of Rekindled... it wouldn't be for my own profitable gain, I'd maybe be able to cover some of my assistant fees 🤣 (but that's just hypothetical food for thought, because as I said above, I don't want to monetize Rekindled because of the potentially legal and ethical issues in doing so. Making money is also just not why I'm making Rekindled because it's something I wanna just do for fun! Money complicates things, turns shit into a job :'0) And let's be real, in that hypothetical scenario, I don't think any money I could generate on my free to read Tumblr project would come anywhere close to threatening Rachel's bottom line 🤣

And this isn't to throw anyone under the bus but when people get suspicious of Rekindled profiting off LO, I can't help but think of the actual fans of LO selling handmade LO merch on Etsy and LO-style adoptables and other arts and crafts dedicated to their favorite comic. And I'm not gonna judge them for that, more power to 'em if people wanna buy their cool stuff (and some of it is really REALLY cool, like I wanna buy their stuff too LOL), I just think it's ironic that people separate the two because... I'm not a diehard fan? Or because Rekindled has gotten popular here. Beats me. All that "popularity" is still just a niche remake of a niche comic in a niche medium. It's not Spiderman Lotus levels of big 🤣 but I know it probably feels that big to people who are engaged with this fandom and spend a lot of time in it.

There's an opposite side of being a yes man that perpetuates similar behavior on the other side - when you come up with reasons to rag on someone just for the sake of it because you can't rationalize them NOT being the all 100% pulp of evil LMAO (and I see people do this even to Rachel and it's not fair imo, like people who use the Lolita thing as a way to accuse Rachel of being a legitimate pedophile? Like no, I don't think we should be normalizing serious accusations like that. I think she's just misinformed in a lot of ways at worst and suffering from dark romantasy porn brainrot at best LOL).

Like, as an example, I've also seen people claim stuff like I'm in the fan spaces telling people not to read LO and to read LR instead? Which like... why would I do that, LR isn't for the fans anyways and I don't gain anything by being a dick in their space 🤣 If my own readers are doing that, that's out of my hands (but respectfully don't do this please!!! there's a reason I don't use the standard LO hashtags and only stick to the anti ones!!!!) but again (and this is a big assumption so take with grains of salt) I think people just like to claim these things because they feel it's just naturally the right thing to do when someone who has opinions they don't like actually puts them into action. Because now they can't say shit like "well if you think you're so much smarter than Rachel why don't YOU write the story!" and "you don't know what it's like to manage a comic!" so they grapple onto whatever other argument they can even if it's misconstrued or entirely pulled out of thin air and not backed up with any legitimate evidence.

Their perspectives make sense to them. My perspective makes sense to me. I don't blame people for being suspicious when they see someone like me pour this much time and effort and money into a project like Rekindled, they assume it HAS to do with something they can rationalize from their own point of view, like wanting to "steal" Rachel's work or profit off it or take it for myself out of "jealousy".

Sorry to disappoint y'all with a boring answer, but I'm just someone who was once a huge fan of LO and couldn't let it go. I'm just someone who's way too hyperfixated, with a lot of passion for making comics and experience to match. I'd still be making it even if I didn't have an assistant. I'd still be making it even if I was stuck working with nothing but paper and pencil. Because I love making it and I love what it means to me, and I love that it makes other people feel the same way I do about it.

And that's really all I have to say on that.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled #lore rekindled ama

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redhead-batgal · 1 year

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can I request you do a Tim Drake x reader where the reader is a spider-like anti-hero that is infamous for getting on batman's bad side due to their methods (i.e. hurting bad people like r*pists, etc.) as well as criticizing him for his techniques, and Tim one day bringing them to the manor after a night of patrol and how the batfam reacts? [can you use 21, 8, 15, 28, 31, 32, 19, 35, 26, 17, 3, 1 & 25 from the neutral prompts; 23 from the angsts prompts; and 1, 27, 34 from the fluff prompts]

I'm so sorry this is pretty long, you can cut out any prompts if you'd like wefhsdkj anyways, have a nice day/night & I love your writing!

Pairing: Anti-Hero! and Gender Neutral! Reader x Tim Drake/Red Robin

Prompts: ϐ1: "“Hmmm, what if-” “Oh no, don’t you start that sentence, don’t you dare make that face." ϐ3: "Go on, keep calling me names, see what happens." ϐ8: "FINALLY! Someone who gets me!” “They literally just breathed.” “It was a sigh and fuck you.” ϐ15: "Are you fucking kidding me?” “No, not in the slightest” ϐ17: "She is my favorite sister.” “I’m not even your sister.” “Not yet.” ϐ19: “Are you insane?” “Most likely.” ϐ21: “You’re late.” “You see I would have been on time, but I was kinda keen on not dying.” ϐ25: “You, my friend, are going down a very dark path.” “Well, the light is broken.” ϐ26: “Get the fuck off of my car.” “Say please.” “Please get your fucking ass off of my fucking car” “that’s not very nice” “I’m done.” ϐ28: “And here I was thinking you were dead.” “As if death could be so lucky to be blessed with my presence.” ϐ31: “IS THAT A KITTY!” “Be quiet, we are supposed to observe and report!” “But the kitty…” ϐ32: “Shock me,” “I would but I’m afraid it’d kill you, old man.” ϐ35: “You know it’s very nice to be wanted.” “NOT BY THE FUCKING FBI DAMN IT!” ✢23: “Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain.” ☙1: “I honestly don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.” ☙27: “I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.” ☙34: “Damn you smell really nice.”

Content: Cursing, fluff, antics and Batfamily shenanigans. (This is technically what you asked for but also not. I just couldn't help myself with the chaotic batfam scenario sorry if this isn't what you were expecting!"

Word Count: 2,132

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is complicated, especially since people are so bizarre. They have the capability for good and, unfortunately, for evil. And evil tended to rein from what you had seen in life.

It was part of the reason why you decided to become a vigilante of sorts. Part of the reason why you went out in the middle of the night and fought for justice for those who couldn't fight back.

Batman and the rest of the bats wouldn't do what it takes to keep the people of Gotham safe. The vulnerable people of Gotham, the working girls, boys and in-betweens... the people who don't follow the social norms with gender and career.

You chose to help others in a way that the bats couldn't. Killing of course wasn't something you did, that would defeat your purpose. These people- how could you even call them people? These scum, needed to be taught a lesson. And you would make sure it got through, even if it meant you ended up with some bruises and broken bones as well.

This, of course, put you on the big bat's bad side. He didn't see you as an enemy, but he certainly didn't like your actions. However, this did not apply to all of the bats.

"You're late." He sighed.

Rolling your eyes, you tilted your head back. Shrugging you smiled at him lazily.

“You see I would have been on time, but I was kinda keen on not dying.”

He turned to you and a wicked smile slid onto your face. Even with his mask on you could see his seething glare. Rolling off of the heating unit, you flipped to land on your feet before walking towards him.

"Come on Red, can't you take a joke?"

Red Robin did not reply, and you sighed. Maybe you should have tried to take this more seriously. After all he wanted you to officially meet the rest of the bats.

"Alright," You began, "I'm sorry."

Red Robin sighed; eyes narrowed as he looked you over before shaking his head.

"Are you insane?"

Instantly speaking before he could continue, "Most likely?"

He laughed slightly and you bounced a bit before speaking once again, “Hmmm, what if-”

“Oh no, don’t you start that sentence, don’t you dare make that face."

Hopping closer to him you leaned in and opened you mouth to say something, noting the slowly appearing smile on his face. Before opening your mouth, however you took a breath in, and words spilled from you.

"Damn, you smell nice."

He paused for a moment, and you met his gaze before smiling at him and leaning in even more. It hadn't been long since your friendship had officially morphed into something more and every little since of affection seemed to make Red Robin- Tim, it made him nervous.

“I honestly," You began looking at him a mischievous smile on your face, "don’t think there’s anyone I ever loved as much as I love you.”

He took a step back and you looked at him raising an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong Red? You want me to meet them because we're together, right?"

He didn't reply, in fact he looked away from you and you paused. All jokes aside you did love him. You did care about what he said and how he felt. It hurt a bit, him ignoring your question.

"Or" You began letting your mind speak before you thought it through, "do you want to know how they seem me before you decided how you feel?"

He paused again and you sighed, you knew he didn't always know what to say to your antics and fears.

"Please tell me that I'm wrong, Red. I-i want you to reassure me. Say things- things like... I love every damned piece of you no matter what anyone else says.”

He finally looked to you and nodded slowly. Clearing his throat, he took a step towards you, and you smiled.

"I do, I do. I'm- I'm just-"

"Nervous?" You asked watching as his hands fluttered and his body twitched.

"Yeah."

Moving so there was no space between you, you leaned against him.

"It's okay, I get it. If things don't go well, you can just say it's your rebellious phase."

Tim laughed and you smiled at him, grabbing onto his arm you began pulling him across the roof top.

"Come on lover boy, we've got somewhere we need to be."

It did not take long for the two of you to arrive at the vast estate of the Wayne family. Nor did it take long for you to reach the front door. Opening it, that was another matter though. Voices seemed to blast from within and you had to bite your lip to keep your composure.

"Go on, keep calling me names, see what happens!" A voice yelled.

"As if you can do anything Thomas!" A younger voice replied, and you almost turned to Tim who sighed before yanking on the doorknob.

You peeked your head into the manor to see dimly lit rooms and straight ahead a tv screen blazing. Wandering in you found two boys sprawled across the couch just in front of the tv.

“Get the fuck off of my car.” The young Wayne boy, Damian remarked.

A controller pinned in his hands as he glared at another boy.

“Say please.” The other remarked and you recalled his name, Duke.

Damian glared before seething, “Please get your fucking ass off of my fucking car.”

“That’s not very nice.”

Throwing the controller down, Damian shook his head scowling, “I’m done.”

"Where on earth did Robin hear that language?" You snorted.

"Jason probably," Tim sighed.

There was silence before a voice shouted in reply sending you into a pearl of giggles.

"You're one to talk pretender!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he gestured to the boys in front of the two of you.

"These are some of my family members. Duke is a daylighter so you probably haven't seen much of him, and you already know that Damian is Robin."

Duke looked up before blinking a few times, you smiled and waved, and Duke's face went blank as he waved back. Damian raised his head for a second spotting you and scoffing.

"Hello, L/N. Still wasting your time with Drake I see."

Tim's hands were on your make moving you towards the kitchen as your jaw dropped at Damian's comment. Clearly, he did not want to deal with his younger sibling today.

Tim pushed the kitchen door open and sitting on the counter a carton settled in her lap was an unfamiliar girl. She blinked before smiling upon noticing the two of you.

'Hi' She signed, and you tilted your head.

"This is Cass, you probably know her as Black Bat though."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head as you looked to Tim your jaw dropping. Her? Black Bat? Wow. You had been dying to meet her.

"Wow," You breathed out stepping forwards, "Uh Hi! I'm Y/n. Woah, yeah uhm sorry. I've just heard a lot about you and- and I'm a big fan."

Cass blinked; her pale cheeks being tinted with the slightest pink as she tucked her hair behind her ear hiding part of it from view. Suddenly, she quickly began signing and you shook your head trying to keep up but being unable to.

"Huh, yeah. You're right Cass. I should show them the cave." Tim muttered, he then looked to you and weakly smiled, "Do you want to see the bat cave?"

You nodded rapidly. While you wanted to stay and talk with Cass, you doubted you'd be able to keep up an actual conversation and you really didn't want her to feel uncomfortable.

"Alright, this way. And just down the stairs."

“IS THAT A KITTY!” Spoiler's voice echoed through the comms.

“Be quiet," Batwing hissed "we are supposed to observe and report!”

“But the kitty…”

A sense of surprise raced over you. You really didn't expect to hear things like that. You were almost certain that patrols were serious and yet, here was Spoiler surprising you. Continuing your descent, you made it to the bottom of the stairs to find an unmasked Batman at the computer with a civilian Red Hood behind him waving his hands.

"Shock me." Bat- no Bruce sighed.

"I would but I'm afraid it'd kill you, old man." Red Hood snorted.

You laughed and he turned to you before laughing as well, “And here I was thinking you were dead.”

“As if death could be so lucky to be blessed with my presence.”

Bruce ignored the two of you, eyes locked on the screen and Red Hood- no Jason, looked at you.

“Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain.” He said reaching his fist out, "right?"

"If anyone's like a villain between the two of you it's gotta be Y/N." Bruce mumbled.

"What? Why? I was a drug lord and killed tons of people." Jason questioned his nosed scrunched up in confusion.

"They castrated a man in broad daylight," Was Oracle's calm response that echoed through the cave cleaving it into silence. A smile nearly jumped onto Jason's face as he turned to you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No," Tim sighed, "not in the slightest.”

"You castrated a man?"

Heat flushed your cheeks, and you waved your hands spitting out a defense, "He was using his dick for bad things! He deserved it."

"It was more than one, and you are now wanted." Bruce Wayne sighed rubbing his temples.

Your reply was instant, “You know it’s very nice to be wanted.”

“NOT BY THE FUCKING FBI DAMN IT!” Tim bellowed turning towards you his eyes wide.

A sheepish grin was on your face as you batted your eyes at him, and Tim let out a groan. Shaking his head, he gestured towards the stairs.

"I think we're done with the Batcave."

You sighed before scowling and moving towards the stairs. However, before you could even raise your foot to the first step you heard Bruce Wayne's booming voice.

"It was nice to meet you Y/N. I hope you keep making Tim happy."

Looking over your shoulder you smiled brightly, meeting the bat's face before nodding.

"Oh, trust me. I will."

Jason burst into a fit of laughter and Tim suddenly was pushing against your back and forcing you up the stairs. You had just made it into the hall when, yet another bat began coming your way.

“You, my friend, are going down a very dark path.” Harper remarked a phone tucked into the crook of her neck.

“Well, the light is broken.” You heard someone reply and you sighed.

Harper turned to look at you before her eyes lit up, "Gotta go, I'll see you later."

She then abruptly hung up before spinning towards you and Tim. She pointed at you and then at Tim her eyebrows raised. Shaking her head, she smiled brightly.

"FINALLY! Someone who gets me!” Harper exclaimed.

Tim looked to her an eyebrow raised, “They literally just breathed.”

“It was a sigh and fuck you.”

"She is my favorite sister.” You snorted.

Harper looked at you confused, “I’m not even your sister.”

You smiled before turning towards Tim, “Not yet.”

A delighted look appeared on Harper's face as she looked you over before turning towards Tim.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well-" You began a wicked grin on your face.

Tim grabbed your arm and began pulling you towards the door, "I think that's enough for tonight. Bye Harper!"

Harper giggled in reply and Tim continued pulling you towards the door. Only to be stopped by a request from Alfred Pennyworth.

"I do hope that you will bring Mx Y/N for Sunday dinner Master Timothy. It will be a far better setting for them to get acquainted with everyone."

Tim sighed, his head hanging as you held back a laugh. He nodded and half turned towards Alfred with his hand weakly waving.

"Of course."

"Goodbye Alfred!" You shouted causing the butler to turn towards you a small smile on his face.

"Farewell Mx Y/N. I do hope you have an enjoyable rest of your evening!"

You continued to wave as Tim pulled you out the door. Finally, the door closed, and Tim let out a haggard sigh.

"So," You began causing him to look at you, "Sunday dinner? I'm pretty sure I didn't get to meet everyone after all."

Tim closed his eyes before pressing his hand to his face, "Damn it."

Another giggle escaped you and you grabbed onto his arm patting it slightly before shaking your head a smile stretched across your face.

"Damn it!" He said again and you laughed.

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @daemonnix96 @zvtanna @masset-fotia @thomasbeloved @sskai @krswrites

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cinna-bunnie · 6 months

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here's my scattered, ranty, kind of shitty take on “vote blue no matter who”: i have been painfully aware of how fucked up our country is since Trayvon Martin was killed and the country just came together and said it was fine and deserved even.

We were the same age, he was a month older than me and they justified that boy's death through the media for doing mundane shit any of my friends would've been doing too.

And i have seen year after year, death after death, this country let's people get murdered by police or people who want to play police and they get away with it almost every time.

Most of white America doesn't give a single fuck about this issue because it doesn't affect them, they would prefer if we didn't have to see or talk about it at all because talking about race (or anything outside the “norm” for white people) at all is uncomfortable.

Now as shitty as he was, the silver lining I saw in Trump is that white people were no longer able to escape how evil this country can be. Like hey!! When the state sees YOU as undesirable TOO it really has a way of bringing people together - in resistance, solidarity, support etc. Trump was a trash ass president, but as A Country we were FINALLY having some real, honest open discussions about the way this shit works and what better options could look like - even tried implementing some changes so we're less reliant on cops in some places. Ironically, it's when leadership is at its worst that we choose to move forward collectively.

But then in the run-up to the presidential election all the vote blue no matter who liberals, the back to brunch liberals, all of them hounded anybody with even the slightest skepticism or dislike of our candidates and even now make it impossible to have any critical conversation without coming in like “do u want trump/ron/[whatever republican that applies] to win?? we HAVE to vote it's our ONLY choice the world is going to END”

THIS IS HOW IT IS LITERALLY EVERY ELECTION, IF THE STAKES ARE REGULARLY THIS HIGH SOMETHING IS FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN HERE.

Vote blue no matter who and back to brunch liberals have fucking brain worms and are the most useless helpless political group. I remember them saying we HAVE to get Joe Biden in then pull him to the left, just this one time bro just this one vote bro I promise. All of the solidarity we've had and all the support we've shown won't instantly vanish the second we're safe we promise we won't leave you behind again just one more vote bro-

maybe go to hell?? maybe we should fucking LOSE and have fear and suffering inflicted on us to make that solidarity an actual, real persistent thing that transcends presidencies. My shitty take is sometimes it IS helpful to have horrific leadership so the privileged class can see how it feels to be ANYONE ELSE for a change. And you would hope they fucking learn something but all the back to brunch liberals are hijacking posts speaking frankly about israel's ongoing genocide and the US's complicity in it, and making the conversation about having to vote for Biden or whatever Democrat anyways.

We don't even have elections coming up right now!! Read the fucking room!! Biden is greenlighting genocide and so are a bunch of other politicians on both sides of the aisle, but back to brunch liberals can't be bothered with ANYTHING. Any sort of valid criticism at all is shut down with "well, choices suck but you HAVE to vote” actually in my heart I think you have to suffer until we get some better fucking choices and you actually help advocate for them, instead of being this useless recurring presence that only shows up to shut down conversation instead of wanting to actually fix anything.

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i-need-some-advice-on · 2 months

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Relationship advice?

CW mentions of abuse, SA, eating disorders, illness, disasters

My partner (26m) and I (23nb) have been living together for nearly 3 years. We both have rough pasts, he grew up with abuse, survived a disaster in childhood, moved to this country as a refugee, and struggles with PTSD. He's also struggled with chronic illness since not long after we moved in together. I grew up with abuse, including CSA and animal hoarding, and experienced several instances of SA as a teenager. I also struggle with PTSD, in addition to autism (dx'd in childhood) and chronic illnesses that started when I was a teenager. I use a mobility aid when I'm outside. We are both estranged from our parents, and both moved here as kids so our extended families are overseas. Because it might be relevant, he's Black, I'm white-passing mixed (non-Black).

Since he got sick and hasn't been able to work, I've been financially supporting him on my Disability payment. It's been over 2 years. He has applied for benefits, but he's been denied, and I guess there's not much he can do about that. This isn't really a problem, but it makes the problems more frustrating since I'm making a lot of sacrifices for him. He has had issues with pretty toxic behaviour, like yelling at me, calling me names like "retard", "pathetic", being hypercritical but getting mad at criticism, bringing up my trauma in arguments and downplaying it, downplaying my dx'd health issues, etc.

He has acknowledged that his behaviour in the past was toxic, but he doesn't really take constructive criticism and it feels like he doesn't really think there's anything wrong with his behaviour. I woke up to him the other week yelling things like "go starve yourself and die you fat whore, get bulimia cunt, etc." at the neighbours working in the office upstairs through the ceiling, because he believes they are stomping deliberately because they are racist and ableist and trying to provoke him (possibly true! still a weird reaction), and when I told him that I didn't like waking up to misogynistic shouting, he got mad at me, said he has PTSD and I don't know what it's like, called me thin-skinned, and generally dismissed my concerns. He's aware of my history of eating disorders.

He did say sorry during the day, but in the evening I still wanted to address it. I started by talking about how he's got some big emotions and they seem hard to manage, and he got upset, saying he doesn't have anger issues, he's justified in his anger, etc. I got upset and called him a narcissist, and later a dickhead. I also brought up his past behaviour. He said I have a victim complex, he's the one being victimised, I have "twitter brain" (I deleted twitter over a year ago at his request), that I always bring up the past to make him look bad, I have the same attitude as people who people who complain about protests being disruptive and ask "but do you condemn hamas?", he's objectively more traumatised than me, and I'm only upset by his anger because of my implicit biases. It didn't happen this time, but in the past he's knocked a chunk of plaster out of the ceiling and made his knuckles bleed from banging on the ceiling in response to the noise from upstairs.

Since then he's mostly stuck to playing music at full blast on multiple devices and deliberately setting off the fire alarm to annoy them in "protest", while I wear earplugs, and I guess that's a compromise. He has sort of acknowledged that he was wrong but still feels justified overall. I don't really know what to think. Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion, maybe I should be more concerned, maybe it's all because of his health and trauma and I should let it slide, maybe there's something I can do to help him, maybe there's nothing I can do. He is sweet most of the time, I love him, but living with him can be so stressful and I don't know how to get him to understand that.

I'm planning on moving home to be closer to family, and he's planning to move after he sorts out his visa. It's also a better country to live in geopolitically and in terms of quality of life than where we live now. I've been hoping to help him get there before addressing all this, since we'll be in a more stable position overall and have more resources, but there's still months before I'll be able to move. What should I do?

#relationship advice #csa mention #abuse mention

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bowievanfleet · 2 years

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it's you [jake kiszka]

pairing: jake x oc (sort of, they have a nickname but y/n still applies!<3)

genre: angstyyy, fluff, enemies to lovers >:)

warnings: mentions of poor mental health and overthinking, cursing, itty bitty tiny mention of skin picking, arguing, emotional whiplash, crying, i am very bad at plot development and dialogue

word count: 4k

inspired by it's u by cavetown :)

a/n: guys!!! its been so long!!!! and i am back with a DOOZY. i don't know what possessed me to write this, maybe the copious amounts of rain we've been getting here is getting to me lmao. but, i am very, VERY happy with how this turned out. this is prob my favorite thing i've written to date. it'll probably be edited/rewritten over time but nothing too dramatic.

also, i'd like to say that the idea to give the reader a nickname to kind of personify them was 100% inspired by the lovely maddie, @hearts-hunger <3 go read her stuff NOW because she's so insanely talented its not even funny. also shoutout to my love @emadamssssssss for helping me out with pepper's backstory. everyone say thank u em!! anyways im done rambling now, i rlly hope u enjoy this. <3

also yes i had to have my little star wars moment at the end. i will not be taking questions or criticisms.

SONGS (v important for this one) its u- cavetown / climing up the walls- radiohead / chinese satellite- phoebe bridgers / i'll be seeing you- billie holiday / lilac wine- nina simone (jeff buckley version also works!)

-----

“oh god, it’s you...”

-----

you genuinely didn’t know why you were there.

something, maybe an invisible string, or a magnetic field, dragged you to his door at 2 am. you stood in the pouring rain, the water mixing with your own tears pouring down your face. you didn’t have any idea what possessed you to come. you tried to go through the reasons in your head: on the outside, you convinced yourself that he was a last resort, that because no one else was picking up the phone, he was the only one you had left to go to.

“better to be with him than by yourself where you would do something stupid.” you would tell yourself, when in reality, you had only called one other person, josh. who didn’t answer likely because he was passed out on his couch with a bottle of tequila on the coffee table, you knew that was his routine on saturdays. you didn’t have the energy nor courage to call anyone else, which led you to your second reason:

that realistically, deep inside of you, you knew the reason you had gone to him was because you simply wanted to be with him. you had to do something to satiate the hunger you had been feeling for the past two weeks since you saw him at one of josh’s stupid parties. your body craved him, your mind craved him, every single cell in your body craved him, and it was embarrassing.

you guessed it was perfect timing, your racing brain giving you a perfect excuse to go to someone. it wasn’t just the fact you wanted to be with him, you needed to be near anyone. if you sat there on your bed, staring at the walls for one more second you knew you were going to break.

you were overthinking more than you ever had before, mostly about him, but also about everything else. it was all getting too overwhelming, you desperately needed contact with someone, something. it was pathetic to be showing up like this, but what else could you do? text him? “hey, i’ve kinda been thinking about you every single waking moment for the past two weeks, can i come over?” the more you thought about it, the more you realized that even that would’ve been better than standing at his door in the pouring rain.

you don’t know how long you stood there, contemplating if you should knock or not,

before he took it upon himself to make the decision for you. you jumped slightly as the door jerked open, earthy eyes taking in your state with a confused and concerned spark in them.

you were confused as well, until you remembered that doorbells with cameras existed. you looked over to it, silently cursing it. you looked back to the eyes staring at you, and realized what a contrast you two must be.

he looked the softest you’d ever seen him, in a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old oversized guns n roses shirt. his face had a golden glow to it, courtesy of the various wax warmers and candles that were placed on almost every surface of his home. they reflected off of his eyes, making them seem almost caramel instead of the dark brown you would often see.

it softened them, turned them from a stony tigers eye to a dark topaz. the sight of him and the energy radiating off of him was almost enough to stop the tears streaming down your face, but then started them all over again as you realized how gentle and beautiful he was. how pathetic was that? his beauty brought tears to your eyes.

his facade was gone, he was no longer cold and cocky, dark and stoic. he was looking at you like he didn’t want to rip you to shreds for once.

you had only seen this once before, when he was drunk at josh’s house and you were the only two left in the living room. he was falling in and out of sleep on the couch, and after watching him for a while, you finally trotted over to him and draped a blanket over his half-asleep body. his eyes snapped open at you, but they weren’t hostile. they were almost... loving. appreciative. adoring.

you went to stand up to go to the guest room, but he caught your hand before you could get too far. you stayed like that for a moment, watching him stare at your hand in his, then with a slow, deliberate stroke of his thumb against your hand, he gently let go.

he looked at you for a split second, and then rolled over on the couch, bringing the blanket up to his chin and cuddling around it. you spent all night wishing he was beside you in the guest bed.

“...pepper?” he asked tentatively. you were snapped out of your thoughts by the nickname he had assigned to you so long ago. you thought for a second about the stupid name he had reserved for you-

you were friends with josh for a while before you got introduced to his family. you were college roommates, and one night he finally decided to invite his brothers over for dinner in your apartment.

you decided you’d make a hearty meal of kraft mac n cheese, but with added seasonings to make it “gourmet” as you and josh liked to call it.

when you were mixing up all the seasonings, you put in a little too much pepper than needed, but you panicked and just started mixing it around, trying to even it out as much as possible.

when you awkwardly served everyone, waiting for their reaction, jake was the only one to speak up. “jesus christ this tastes like shit” he said. everyone immediately turned to look at him with wide eyes, surprised and embarrassed that he would be that outright.

“what?!” he shrugged. “just being honest. if you're gonna make dinner for us at least make it good.” he said, but continued to eat the pasta anyway.

josh looked at you sympathetically. “it tastes fine y/n, just a little spicy.” he reassured. and it turned out, by the end of the night, everyone’s half eaten bowl of mac n cheese ended up on the counter next to jake's empty one.

if you had known him better, you would’ve teased him relentlessly. but instead, upon doing the dishes, you smiled fondly at the empty bowl. the first of many small signs that there wasn’t all hostility between you two.

that didn’t make the name stick, however. what made “pepper” become official was at one party the twins had thrown. you and josh were busy setting up everything beforehand, while jake was on a beer run. “what do you wanna start out with?” josh asked, flaring his hands dramatically toward the family’s extravagant vinyl collection. “hmmm...” you debated, kneeling down to scour through the records. once you found what you were looking for you demanded josh to turn around, wanting it to be a surprise. you carefully placed the needle on the black disc, the opening sounds of sgt, pepper’s lonely hearts club band ringing out into the spacious living room.

josh instantly turned around with a grin, taking your hands in his obnoxiously, the both of you starting to scream out, “IT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO TODAY, SERGEANT PEPPER TAUGHT THE BAND TO PLAY!”

you loved moments with josh like this, screaming out songs you both loved, not a care in the world. you always felt so alive. that was, until you heard the door open, choosing to ignore it until you saw his figure stalk through the doorway.

he gave you a simple scoff and an eye roll, before quickly taking the bags in his hands to the kitchen and returning to the living room archway, leaning against it in a manner that made you want to storm over there and kick him.

“you’re just pepper all the way around aren’t you?” he teased, you flipping him off while josh muttered a “shut the fuck up, jake.”

you started toward the kitchen to start setting the drinks out, jaw clenched in irritation.

why did he have to ruin everything? you were having a great time with josh, your own sunshine, before the rain had to storm in and drown it out.

“awe, did i make you upset, pepper? i’m sorry.” he mocked, fake pity in his tone. “just fuck off.” you gritted, tring to focus on getting the drinks set out. “of course pepper, anything for you.” he teased, raising his hands in surrender and stalking off somewhere else in the house.

you stared at each other for a long while, almost talking with your eyes.

after a moment, his flashed with a gentleness you had never before seen in your entire time of knowing him, not even that night on the couch, and the only thing you knew, right then and there, was that you needed to be in his arms.

you let out a shaky exhale, “jake-” you sobbed, all but lunging toward him. your body crashed into his, your arms winding around his middle and your head finding a home in his neck.

he stood frozen for a second, obviously not expecting your sudden action, but after half a second of hesitation, he closed his eyes and let you melt into him, wrapping his own hands around you slowly, one belting around your lower back to keep you upright and the other going to the back of your head, threading through your hair and scratching your scalp lightly.

he would switch between scratching your head once he figured out you liked it, and slowly rubbing his hand over your hair, smoothing it down.

the two actions made you cry even harder, your hands finding their way up his body and around his neck, trying to get as close as humanly possible to him. if you had it your way, you would melt your body into his. you wanted to mold him for the rest of time, to never ever let go, to always have his body pressed to yours.

you knew this was the worst thing you could ever do, because the second this was over, you’d never be able to live without touching him again. you’d need it like you need air to breathe. every second of every day you'd need it. how would you be able to go on after this? constantly craving his arms around you, his hands anywhere and everywhere on you, his breath letting out soft puffs against your skin. you didn’t want to even think about it right now, so you let him hold you while you held him.

he must’ve felt the same way about letting go, so instead of pulling away, he took his arm off your back to close the door softly, immediately returning it.

he walked backwards to the couch, sitting you down without ever loosening his grip on you. he laid back, pulling you with him as he pushed your face gently into his chest, giving you something to cry on.

you laid there for what felt like hours, even though it was probably only ten minutes, before all that was audible anymore was your occasional sniffle and his gentle breathing.

“y/n...?” he whispered, still stroking your hair. “yeah?” you squeaked, bracing yourself for the arguing and embarrassment and teasing to start. but it never did.

“what happened?” he asked, concern evident in his voice and you knew he genuinely cared about your response. but that scared you. why would he care about your feelings? it surprised you that he was even touching you right now, let alone asking about you.

it was an act of human decency that he usually didn’t show. jake kiszka couldn’t give two fucks about anyones feelings excpet maybe his brothers’.

you leaned up on your hands, hovering over him. you stared at each other again, his hands finding a home on your back, yours resting on either side of his face. you slowly sat up, forcing his arms to drop from you.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why i came here. just- no one else was answering and it was all getting too much and i just didn’t know where else to go and-”

“hey.” he interrupted, grabbing your hands from where they came up to cover your face. “i don’t want you to apologize i just.. want to know why you came to me.” he said, trying to choose his wording carefully.

you chewed on your lip, trying to come up with an answer before you realized the only one you had come up with involved being vulnerable, and you were absolutely not in the right state for vulnerability right now, despite the fact you had just cried into his chest.

you got up and walked to the kitchen, searching for water and trying to buy a few minutes. you knew exactly where he kept them, so you grabbed one and went back to sit on the couch, further away from him this time. he noticed this, a flash of disappointment coming over his face.

he looked at you as you drank your water and set it down, being the most patient you’ve ever seen him.

you stared at nothing for a moment, noticing how his hands clenched and unclenched, as if he was yearning to touch you again. you were yearning too, but you couldn’t touch him again until you knew for certain that this wouldn’t be the only time.

“jake...” you trailed, both of your eyes holding so much intensity. he gave a look of realization, finally reaching to grab your hands like he had been so desperate too. you flinched away instinctively, you were going to keep your word on not touching him again. you started to get frustrated, “why do you all of a sudden care so much? you should’ve just fucking told me to go home the minute you saw me.”

that cold facade slipped back on his face, a look of confusion and disappointment taking his face. “did you just want me to leave you out there in the fucking rain?! cause i would’ve been glad to do that if you really wanted me to, you should've just said so.”

“well you’ve never cared before!”

“i’m not heartless y/n!!” he hissed, pointing an accusing finger at you.

“you think i am but I'm not. i just don’t see the point in wearing it on my fucking sleeve all the time.” that hurt. you’d always been a very outwardly emotional person, it was one of your biggest weaknesses, and to hear it being used against you stung like hell. he saw that comment affected you but he kept going.

“if i was heartless, i wouldn’t have sat here and fucking held you like i did. as much as i fucking hate touching you, i did it to comfort you. because i'm not as cold as you think i am y/n.” your head snapped up, something he said catching your attention.

“why do you hate touching me?” you inquired, brows furrowed. he shut his eyes for a second, before he dodged the question.

trying to be as soft as he could again, he spoke, “why did you come here, pepper?”

you thought for a second. “i don’t know. i just needed someone. i couldn’t be by myself anymore.”

“why not?” he questioned, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“because my mind would’ve driven me insane.” you admitted, looking down at your hands in your lap, picking at your nails.

you were hyper-aware of the fact that you were slowly drifting more and more towards him.

“what were you thinking about?” he questioned softly.

“jake i can’t do this right now. i can’t talk about this.”

“then i ask again, why did you come here?!” he almost begged for an answer. you finally looked back up at him, trying to distract yourself with the melting chocolate of his eyes. somehow he must’ve known your answer, he could always read you like an open book.

he could tell that you two were on the same page, you just weren’t ready to be that vulnerable with him. so, he gave you a head start.

“you wanna know why i hate touching you?” he asked, his voice tense. you sniffled and gave a nod. he leaned in closer to you.

“because you, you are so fucking addicting that if i touch you i almost can’t let go. you have no idea how hard it was to let you go just now. i’m so hopelessly desperate for you, pepper. now, i have a good idea of why you came here. but i need to hear you say it, baby.” the pet name pushed you over the edge, and before you knew it, the tears were back and you were babbling out your confession.

“it’s you, jake. it’s always been you.” you sobbed, leaning forward to press your forehead to his chest. he finally reached up to your hair again, almost audibly breathing a sigh of relief when his hands finally made contact with you again.

“and i’m scared. i’m so scared of how i feel right now. its a need- i need you. i need to be near you. but i can’t- we can’t. we’re not good for eachother, we never have been jake. we bring out the worst in each other.”

“i know, i know.” he soothed. “i feel it too y/n, i’ve always felt it. from the moment i saw you. it’s terrifying.” he agreed, and all you could muster was a small nod in understanding.

“you make me want to be better. sometimes that feels good, the fact that i can change for you, to make you happy. but a lot of the time... it feels like it’ll never be enough.” he confessed. “jake, i don’t expect you to change for me. i don’t want you to.” he soaked in the words, leaning down to rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“you know, i think you bring out the best in me. you know damn well i wouldn’t do this with anyone else.” he chuckled. you let out a small laugh too, leaning more into his chest. “jake im so scared. t-this feeling... it's so strong, too strong. why do you do this to me?” you begged. “i could ask you the same thing.” he said, hugging you tighter.

“we have so much to work out before we can do anything. i mean we can't even go 10 minutes without arguing. jake we hurt each other too much.” you reasoned, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“love is supposed to hurt, isn't it?” he countered.

love.

you knew that’s what it was, you were just far too scared to actually address it. loving someone that had been heartless and selfish to you for the past 7 years wasn’t possible. but if it wasn’t, then why did you feel the need to have his body near yours at all times? there was a part of you, and you could feel it in him too, that needed to have the pain soothed by him. it was like a fire burning in your stomach, and he was the water to put it out. his arms were where you were supposed to be. forever.

“we can’t walk away from this anymore, baby.” he added, making your body shake again with sobs. that's all you wanted to do. you wanted to run away and never see him again.

that way, maybe the fire would die out and leave tiny embers that could be satiated by someone else. but you knew. you knew no one could put it out but him. he was the only one that possessed the right water to extinguish the flame of yearning in you. and you knew you were the only one to put out his.

and so, you let him hold you as you cried for the second time that night, grabbing at each other to get impossibly closer. you knew there was no going back now, that you were about to walk off the diving board and never get back up. but you wanted it. you knew you needed it.

“there’s too much going against us.” you borderline begged. begged him to find a way out of this, begged him to push you away, to kick you out, to do something to stop it. vulnerability was your worst enemy.

“pepper. look at me.” he demanded, forcing your head up with your chin tucked between his fingers. “something has been drawing me to you for nearly 7 years. i’m not walking away from it now that we’ve finally got it out in the open. we have to move on. what’s past is past, and what we have now is everything we need. what are you scared of, darling?” he asked gently.

“...vulnerability.” you admitted. he let out a sigh, maneuvering you so you were in his lap. “it's scary isn’t it, pepper?” he soothed, running a run up and down your back. you nodded pathetically. curling into him more.

“you know what irritates me the most about you?” he asked, but not hostile. you scoffed. “everything?” you guessed.

“no. not everything. there's a million little tiny things, but not everything. the biggest one though, is no matter how hard you try, you can't hide. no matter how much you duck and run, i would be able to pull you out of a crowd of a million people. no matter how hard you try to keep your head down and blend with other people, you can’t, not to me. you stand out like a goddamn star. that's what irks me the most." he said softly.

“am i supposed to take that as a compliment?” you laughed.

“mhm. it’s painful for me but you should know. sometimes i feel like you and me are the only two people in the room. you drown everyone else out.” he confessed as your eyes filled up with tears again, but not sadness this time.

this time, it was an overwhelming blanket of love that draped over you.

the relief that you were wanted by him. that you stood out to him as much as he did to you. you lifted your face from its place on its chest, resting your chin there instead so you were looking up at him.

he softly took a strand of damp hair from your cheek, tucking it into place behind your ear. “see? i was vulnerable with you. now its your turn.” he encouraged lightly.

you looked up at him for a second more. the words were on the tip of your tongue, running through your brain over and over again- iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

you finally found your voice:

“i think i love you, jake.” you stated, voice faltering near the end. he cupped your jaw in his hand,

“i know.” he nodded, his eyes filling with tears too as your hands threaded through his hair, clutching at every part of him you could reach, as your lips finally melted into his.

#gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake kiszka x reader #jake gvf #peaceful army #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka #josh gvf #gvf one shot #gvf imagine #gvf fluff

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kiefbowl · 1 year

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How do you stay on radblur when everyone hates bi women on there so much? I might remake my tumblr so I can actually follow people to combat this but holy shit when you're just lurking it's like every other week a new thinkpeace comes out about how bi women are all privliged/straight/whores/inferior/unfeminist it's almost enough to give up on radical feminism since clearly noone's there for me

Do you just avoid looking at it all?

If I see a woman being misogynistic, I don't give them the time of day. However, some women seem to be unable to read valid criticisms or valid feminist theories without taking it personally. So, I won't speak to you about what you've experienced, but I can only speak to what I've experienced is that I have never had anyone come at me for being bisexual (except curiosity/dismissive - which w/e can't win them all, maybe I am a hypocrite).

I think it's false to say bisexual women have a uniform systematic power over lesbian and gay people, but I also think it's false to think straight privilege cannot or does not apply to bisexual people in heterosexual relationships. It's also false to think bisexual people can't be raging homophobes. I've seen it, we've all seen it.

This sort of anon doesn't mention lesbians, but it's hard not to assume that's who you're referring to. I mean, am I to believe you mean straight women of radblr are saying these things? Let's not kid ourselves.

Lesbians not prioritizing bisexual women is not hatred. Lesbians talking about the dangers of dating, marrying, sleeping with, or living with men is not hatred. I talk about those things, even while in a relationship with a man. If being critical of the need for men isn't feminism, then what exactly are we supposed to be talking about?

I don't see how I should treat people online any different than people I meet out in the world. If you want to "give up" on "radical feminism" bc you've done some lurking on tumblr and that's enough to turn you off, then I'm not sure you know too much about radical feminism or have really been lurking on radical feminists' blogs or were ever that interested in it. If I meet an asshole in real life, I trust my discernment and I disengage with them. If I see an asshole on tumblr, I do the same. It doesn't alter my entire philosophy or view point in the world.

I do see language that is porny or at least riding the line directed at het partnered women, but when it comes to the core group of women I've been mutuals with for at most - this is not a joke - eight years, they don't engage that way. So I don't know what to tell you, if you were looking for me to be like "yeah radblr hates bi women" you won't get it from me. Radblr is a tenuous concept at best, radical feminism =/= radblr, you make your experiences here. Give up on radical feminism if you want, I can't stop you and I won't beg women to be feminist.

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machinesuper · 2 years

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The black mirror batman

And now Wayne is back but doing something else. Also, apparently Wayne’s son from Son of the Demon (which I did read back when it was released) is Robin now - or maybe was Robin because he doesn’t appear in The Black Mirror. I believe Identity Crisis was about to begin when I last entered a comic book store on a Wednesday, but since then I’ve been tangentially aware that somewhere along the line Bruce Wayne “died” (comic book scare quotes in full effect) and Dick Grayson took over in his place. As well, though I’m not a regular reader, I am familiar with some of the changes to the title over the last several years. I’m familiar with Batman and his mythos but I don’t read his books save for special occasions - books or stories that come highly recommended or hyped. It’s not the salvation of the genre and it does stumble awkwardly in places, but simultaneously, it does get some things right and those things are worth the time of the superhero enthusiast.Īt this point, I should mention that the caveats from Batwoman apply here as well. And in some ways, The Black Mirror vindicates his sentiment. He’s proven himself to have great taste in the past and it was on his recommendation that I gave Big Questions a shot against a warehouse of reservations and came out quite pleased.

Book critic Dan Goodman, knowing my reluctance to heartily endorse the superhero genre, gave the book a pretty nice recommendation and said he thought it was one of the best examples of the genre in years (I’m paraphrasing from memory here, but I think I’m doing him justice). I mean, think how many enemies I’ve made by saying that Batwoman: Elegy was mostly awful and that All-Star Superman fell flat to me partly because Frank Quitely’s people drive me crazy.) So my general rule for this sort of thing is that I won’t review a superhero book unless 1) I really found something special in it (and I really need to do more of this) or 2) the book was recommended to me. On average, even the better books will only be able to rate an OK rating by the measures I use. And that’s why, for the most part, I don’t really review a lot of superhero books. Sometimes we just want to turn our brains off and take in an unbelievable story. I read and loved The Hunger Games, even though it wasn’t anything particularly special. We don’t expect romance novels or westerns or Elizabeth George mysteries to be Remains of the Day or Cloud Atlas. There are Good books that find themselves nestled in the genre that has been Marvel and DC’s bread and butter since the ‘60s, but they’re rare and all the more special for it.Īnd that’s fine.

Rather, the problem is that so much of superhero fiction doesn’t actually succeed. It’s not that a superhero story can’t succeed and rank among the best of the medium that would be like saying The Long Goodbye isn’t great American literature. Because there are standards of good storytelling that sort of just exist over and above genre concerns, I’m not often kind (or perhaps better: generous) to superhero fiction. The same awkwardness exists here on Good Ok Bad. But we shouldn’t expect a neck-and-neck race. Certainly, a critic might make note of Twilight's purpose and express some evaluation of how well it succeeds on its own terms. On a site that reviewed both books side-by-side, we’d expect reviewers to use at least most of the inches on the same yardstick to measure out their respective values. While it may seem unfair to compare the two books, one is entertaining trash and the other is awestriking and thoughtfully composed (at least according to most everyone who’s read it and isn’t thirteen). See? They’re both great because they both succeed within their unique contexts! After all, how far could you trust someone who rated Twilight and Brothers Karamazov as being Great Books because Twilight succeeds at its goal of being a mindless-but-amusing supernatural romance/thriller and Brothers Karamazov succeeds at its goal of being kick-ass, world-class literature that people will be talking about for hundreds of years or more. I try to extend some graces to the contexts in which these books operate, but completely divorcing genres from the general expectations of the medium would perpetrate some pretty wild discrepancies. One of the weird things about this site is that I rate genre books alongside, quote-unquote, more serious fare.

#The black mirror batman

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myrainydayloves · 2 years

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I can't tell if you're stupid or just naive. Saying a supreme Court offical stating his plans isn't 'evidence' of a plan? Should we just ignore school shooting threats then? Jesus.

But since you think it only matters when things are in action, here.

https://texasscorecard.com/state/texas-gop-announces-priorities-for-2023/

Texas GOP has announced their plan to succeed in 2023, with clear written documentation that they'll make gay marriage and being gay/trans illegal.

https://www.nbcnews.com/nbc-out/out-politics-and-policy/tennessees-anti-gay-marriage-bill-sparks-bipartisan-criticism-rcna23840

Tennessee bill proposes marriage should exclude same sex couples.

https://whyy.org/episodes/the-wave-of-anti-lgbtq-legislation/

And the countless laws and bills already against LGBT. There's many more if you just fucking used googles.

Maybe use your brain before you post dumb shit from your privileged perspective.

This is a good list of sources but you’re only distracting from the og argument. Which was anonymity online.

But I’ll explain it this to you as well because you are at least improving the arguement. I’m also putting it under a read more bc it’s a wordy response and you’ve bother enough people I know with this today.

When I say gay rights aren’t on the chopping block, I mean it in the extremely specific context of Roe v Wade. Which was a well documented effort and goal for ten years.

A sort of peusdo control in US government is using time and red tape to wear people down. For example, when applying for a permit for a demonstration at a local park, I have to take to from not only city hall, but to the parks department, the fire department, and the public utilities department to have it cleared. They need to know: How many people will be there? What we’ll be doing? And when we’ll be doing? In case smth goes horrifically wrong.

The Supreme Court has a similar system. Currently, there at no threats to gay marriage on the DOCKET, which is probably the word I should have been using instead of chopping block.

Judge Thomas has been complaining about gay people since he was born. But his position on this holds little water in the actual courts because, as I said, there are no bills targeting gay marriage or gay rights on the Supreme Court Docket. Meaning that it’s unlikely gay right are going to be judged and decided on in this country for awhile.

Any more of your anons will be deleted and ignored until you can learn to be polite while disagreeing on something as strange as Anonymity on the internet.

For the last time: You are an impassioned speaker and you can do good. Write this down, screenshot it, w/e and refine these arguments. I’m hardly the last person who’s going to barely challenge you and your beliefs.

Please be mindful of the energy you present when you are an impassioned speaker because it can cause fear and anxiety to those around you. Even when you’re right, the truth is, You rarely have to deal with the consequences of your words. It’s the glory of the internet. But they DO have consequences and they DO effect other people.

When I post, I try to be as rational about the next 24-72 hours to follow. These are critical times in both the movement and in people’s psyche. Keeping them moralized and not panicked and rational is important. The only reason I’m being the open about the logic behind this is because I think you could do to understand why organizers do what they do, when they do it. Even if you personally disagree with it.

For the final time: Please do not insult me. I know it’s hard bc I’m such a condescending asshole, but imagine how much harder someone who isn’t on your side is gonna be to talk to. Consider me practice well done and move on, baby. I don’t matter that much in your life or in the grand scheme of things.

#baby used affectionately in an older black woman way #I know it’s demeaning to some so I wanted to clarify #this was a much better attempt overall so good work on adapting too #politics #weird anon #see anon?#that’s the tag you get when you act weird to people

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nonbinarykai · 3 years

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Ok since two people asked

Why Lloyd is my least favorite ninja and how I rewrite him

Notes:// you know the rodeo by now, long post so it’s going to be under a read more, and I’m not gonna tag this with Lloyd because of the criticisms I have against his character, if you don’t want to hear Lloyd be critiqued then don’t reas the post

Why I don’t like Lloyd

Maybe it’s because I’m a Kai kinnie or maybe it’s because I have a bias agaisnt the younger sibling but Lloyd has never really been a favorite of mine

He was enjoyable in s1 but after that he kinda lost all personality for me and I stopped enjoying him

I think this is mostly for two reasons:

1. His screen time

2. His “character arcs”

I’ll go ahead and knock out his screentime here because it pretty much speaks for himself

Lloyd takes up so much screentime in the show that it’s actually jarring, he’s the character with the most seasons, having s1-2, s4, s8-11, and finally s14 ((the island special)). Which I think makes lloyds writing flaws all the more noticable

A big reason, albeit a bit of a petty one, for why I don’t like him is because he constant hyjacks other characters plots and makes them about him, this happened with Kai in both s4 and s11

Even if he’s not the main focus of a season, he always has a side plot focusing on him like in s3 and s12

The writers need to include Lloyd in other seasons is making it harder for the other main characters to actually have enough screentime to grow and develop on there own

And as a side effect of this, Lloyd gets to become the most important character in every season he is, taking roles from other characters who needed them

My best example is Cole being leader, he was set up and established as leader in the pilots and s1, and he did pretty good in it! Cole being a leader is a interesting concept that I would have loved to see been developed

But after Lloyd grew up they threw that plot point into the trash so they could have the mystical green ninja be leader even though throughout s1-7 he hardly actually talks to the main cast and him being leader doesn’t add any interesting dynamic like cole and kais rivalry despite Kai being a sort of right hand man to Coles leadership.

And in s1-s7 especially everything literally revolves around Lloyd to the point where his existence is more important than everyone else’s, and everyone’s motivations are to protect him.

Again I understand he is important, he’s the green ninja, but you have to let your other characters grow and develop, Lloyd is not the only main character in your show

Like for fuck sakes I don’t need 3 arcs about Lloyd and his dad, can I finally have another Kai season

Lloyds character arcs honestly kinda suck

Im going to be honest with you

Lloyds kinda an ass

The reason I like jay more then Lloyd even though jay has been way more mean spirited then Lloyd throughout the entire series is because you can atleast make the argument that jay doesn’t know when his jokes can hurt. And the show doesn’t portray jay as in the right, he gets what he deserves for some of the meanier things he says.

The same can’t be said about Lloyd

Lloyd says things to the other ninja that is honestly so mean spirited it’s jarring to hear it from him

Best example being when Lloyd told Kai to get over his shit when Kai was grieving in s4

But what makes it so frustrating is that the show always portrays Lloyd like he’s in the right which is why a lot of his character arcs feel flat or uninteresting

The only time this doesn’t apply is in s2 and in s3, in s2 the show paints Lloyd as being unfair to Misako when he RIGHTFULLY gets mad at her for abandoning him, I’ll get back to this later

The second time in s3 is when he’s traveling with Garmadon and having to be taught to balance his powers, which is actually one part of s3 I really liked, it was nice to see these two bond and have Garmadon teach Lloyd something that wu would other wise not teach him. And it’s a real shame the season cut it short AGAIN

The biggest example of the show making Lloyd seem in the right no matter what is in s4, Lloyds whole arc there was to learn how to view things from a different perspective and appreciate the things others have done for him. And this is would work if the show decided to do the same.

Again back to that scene with Lloyd and Kai in s4, the show treats Lloyd as if he’s in the right and it’s never addressed after this. Even though this is supposed to be the beginning of lloyds arc where he’s supposed to learn to view things from a different perspective

This scene would have worked if

1. The show didn’t paint him in the right for this, either by having Lloyd apologize or having the show acknowledged how it might have hurt Kai

2. If the plot Lloyd has remained a side plot instead of taking up the entire focus

Seriously, s4 could have been the ONE season where you can have a Lloyd side plot thats not forced and yet they fucked it up and made it the entire focus of the season thanks a lot.

To quote what I said in my Nya anayalsis awhile back

“I’m not upset that he has a flaw, just that it’s not recognized as one”

Lloyd would work way better as a character if the show just let him have consequences for his actions

Ever since he grew up and got the green ninja role he’s been treated like he can’t do no wrong which is clearly not true

But since we’re already on this topic

Hurting Lloyd doesn’t make him a good character

I feel like Tommy ((and sometimes the fandom)) really misunderstand what the use of suffering for in a story

There atleast 3 reasons writers make there characters suffer

1. To undergo a arc and realize where they have been wrong or to give a character a lot more depth to expand upon

2. If the story is a fallen hero one and the character suffers because of his Huberius

3. If the story is a tragedy

Ninjago is neither a fallen hero story or a tragedy and his pain doesn’t develop him as a character

A lot of writers don’t understand that suffering isn’t what makes a character good, it’s what pushes them to become good, you can’t just throw a character at the wall and expect them to instantly be a well written fleshed out character

A lot of the suffering Lloyd has to endure is mostly for no reason and it’s really mean spirited because it adds nothing to the plot, it’s just there to hurt him

Let’s bring up s11 as an example, Lloyd didn’t HAVE to fight the ice emperor from a writing standpoint, if anything it should have been kais battle because his lose of power and Zane going evil would have been a perfect reflection of s4 and tie it up after it ended kais character a bit open ended

But no let’s have Lloyd do it instead because haha isn’t trauma COOL and HIP

Now to be clear, I’m not saying that all of your stories have to end on a happy ending or anything like that, if your a writer then your allowed to do whatever you want with your personal writing

What I am saying is that ninjago is an actual SHOW made by PROFESSIONAL writers and they can’t understand the concept of a story structure

And the lack of actually addressing his trauma is really bringing down Lloyd as a character

Because it comes to a point where you understand why Lloyd is sometimes mean or distrustful of other people and it’s frustrating because you know that it’s flaws of him that are never going to be fixed because there writers want there trauma baby

How I would rewrite him

I’ve seen a lot of people suggest Lloyd become a villain in a future season and you know what, I sort of agree

But not in the way you think

I feel like it would be way more compelling if Lloyd was a villain but is still a ninja, instead of Lloyd switching sides, the show is switching perspectives

More or less I want Lloyd to be a reflection of the “true” villain, which is how wu ((and subsequently Lloyd)) put small Victories as more important then the ninjas life, passion, and desire, and how there black and white thinking of good and evil ends up to a lot of problems because there’s a lot of grey area there choosing to ignore

I want Lloyd to start of being loyal to wu’s philosophy and the protagonist, for random example let’s say Kai, sudden turn on these ideas in order to look outside the box to find if there truly is a better way to protect people without harming himself

I want Lloyd to be upset over what he thinks is a turn to the dark side when in reality, it would make his motivations make sense and not make his turn to “villainy” be out of character.

And over the course of the season he starts to realize how wus and subsequently his leadership has hurt the others and himself, and have him reflect on if all the pain they suffer through just to clean up wus mistakes is really worth it like wu says, or if there’s a better way like kai says

As for Lloyds actual character himself, I’d like for his flaws to be more noticeable

Have Lloyd be a gifted kid who gets praise when he doesn’t deserve it but still kinda acts like a brat because he’s still mentally like 10

Have him be a control freak who follows the rules way to strictly and is all serious when they have to do missions

Have his idealization of wu be realized and critiqued because honestly wu sucks ass

Would this make his character less like able? Maybe, but then he’d actually have depth and something to improve on

He can still have his s3 and s4 arcs, it’s just now they’re more important because he’s actually learning to be better

AND BEFORE ANYONE SAYS IM PURPOSEFULLY MAKING LLOYD WORSE SO THAT KAI LOOKS BETTER

ILL HAVE YOU KNOW AWHILE BACK I MADE A POST SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING ABOUT KAI AND HIS FLAWS SO THERE (/hj /lh)

#ninjago #kai smith #ninjago kai #sorry this post is way less structured then my other ones

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elareine · 3 years

Note

Tim realizing that since Jason has been in the pit, Jason is always cold. He cant get warm. Tim throws himself into working this out, there has to be something to warm Jason.

Hi, anon, thank you for your patience. I… took the sappy route with this. Since this got longer than 1k, I posted it on ao3, too.

Attempt One

“How’re you doing?”

Tim eyes the bundle in front of him critically. Jason dropped by his safe house thirty minutes ago, teeth chattering after an encounter with Mr. Freeze, and he only looked marginally better. The chattering stopped; that can be a good sign or a very bad one.

Jason gives him a weak grin. “Alright. No danger of turning into an icicle any time soon.”

Hmm. Tim will see that for himself.

When he moves, Jason lifts a hand in protest. “Hey, no—“

Tim completely ignores Jason’s protests—he’d feel worse about it if it wasn’t the only way to handle injured Bats—and sticks his hand between the isolation blanket and Jason’s neck… just to flinch back. “Holy shit!”

“Nah, it’s—“

“It’s hypothermia, is what it is!” Whatever bullshit is coming out of Jason’s mouth, Tim is not listening. “You’re going into shock! We gotta get some extra heat in here, or maybe actually call the hospital; I’m not equipped for this—“

Jason’s hand closes over his mouth. Tim gives him a second to remove it, then he licks it.

Jason just grins. “As I was trying to say: It’s always like that. My body temperature never went back to normal after daying.”

“Nnr?”

“Never.” Jason shrugs. He looks completely unbothered in a way that leaves Tim incensed. That’s just stupid. Did Jason just accept the fact that he’s in constant discomfort as if that’s not a thing there should be—should be—multiple solutions to, what the fuck. Tim is gonna fix this, so God help him.

Tim is so busy coming up with 315 possible solutions that he even forgets to bite Jason’s hand for a moment.

(Only a moment, though. “Ouch!”)

Attempt Two

“I’m not sure how you think piling more blankets on me will help me raise my core temperature.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at the three blankets currently on top of him. “Right. Silly of me.”

Tim rolls his eyes. Men. So ungrateful. “Your core temperature is obviously affected. That’s why I brought heating blankets.” Many, many heating blankets. Jason ends up looking somewhat like a disgruntled duck by the end. Tim has pictures to prove it.

Thirty minutes later, Tim takes Jason’s temperature. Still way, way too low for a human. He sighs. That would’ve been too easy, huh.

“You know,” Jason waggles his eyebrows, “there’s a rather more traditional way of warming up under the blanket.”

Tim swats his head. “Keep it in your pants.”

“Even if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to tell under all these blankets,” Jason tells him mournfully.

Tim decides that retreat is the better part of valor. For today. Just until he can stop imagining what Jason could do to… warm up.

Attempt Three

“A hot bath.”

“…you think I haven’t tried that?”

No. No, actually Tim doesn’t, and his expression must adequately convey that cause Jason throws his hands up. “Okay, no, I haven’t, not really. My place isn’t that fancy.”

“It certainly doesn’t have this tub. Now shoo, get out of these clothes.”

“Why, darlin’, you only ever had to ask.” Without ceremony, Jason pulls off his shirt, then begins working on his belt. “Alright, tell me: What makes this tub special?”

“From observation, I conclude that your resistance to high temperatures has also increased,” Tim begins in an excellent mad scientist voice, just to drop it right after. “Or you wouldn’t be able to wear that fucking jacket in summer. So I engineered a tub that will slowly heat up to a temperature just above 50 degrees Celsius.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason grumbles as he climbs in, unabashed in his nudity, “cause right now it’s really fucking cold, babybird.”

Funny cause Tim thinks it’s definitely getting hot in here.

Hoping his face doesn’t heat up—haha—, he looks down at his phone and activates the heat settings on the tub. “At least,” he says thoughtfully, “we don’t have to worry about accidentally causing a heart infarct or anything like with normal freezing victims. I think.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“We’ll take it slow, anyway.”

Almost two hours later, Jason’s skin is red and wrinkled and covered in glitter from Tim’s bath bomb. He’s still cold to the touch.

Attempt Four

“Tea? Really?”

“You like tea.” Jason has been hanging around Tim’s place often enough that the younger man knows. (If there’s a corner of the top shelf just dedicated to Jason’s favorite blends, well, they don’t talk about it.) “And anyway, this tea is special.”

Jason put down the cup. “Tim.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me you didn’t get this from Ivy.”

“I didn’t get this from Ivy,” Tim recites just a little too dutifully. Truthfully, he hasn’t—it’s of his own creation in the lab—but seeing Jason squirm is just too funny.

“The things I do for you, babybird,” Jason sighs and exes about half of it. When nothing obviously terrible happens, he drinks the rest in small, careful sips.

“Nothing?”

“A hint of chamomile—I get that one, soothing—and… bergamot?”

“Yeah, that’s your favorite, right?” Tim’s taking down notes and is only half-listening. “How do you feel? Any warmer?”

When Jason doesn’t reply right away, Tim does look up. “Jay?”

The older man has a slight smile on his face. “A little warmer, yes.”

Tim brightens and jumps up. Jason lets him stick the thermometer under his tongue without any objection. Tim is a little disheartened when it climbs up to 33°C and stays there, again, though he tries to stay focused on the positives: “I guess it’s a start, though. After all, the perception of warmth is just as or more important than the objective temperature.”

“Uhuh.”

“Also, you didn’t turn green, so that’s good.”

“Tim!”

Attempt Five

“Okay, if this doesn’t work, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Please tell me you’re not hooking me up to electrodes.”

“Sorry, that’s too dumb a lie even for me.” Tim is about to demand that Jason takes his shirt off again—an unfortunate side effect of this type of experiment, really, how terrible that he has to ogle those pecs and abs again—when he pauses. “Wait. Is that… a bad thing?”

Which is terrible phrasing for Is this something that was used to torture you? but Jason seems to get it cause he shakes his head. “Nah, just didn’t know you’re into that.”

“I’m not!” Tim isn’t.

…at least, he doesn’t think he is? There’s certainly something to be said about the inherent homoeroticism of applying gel to another man’s skin and attaching electrodes. He’s so caught up in the entire thing—and the way Jason’s muscles jump and twitch when Tim applies his own brand of stimulant ray to them—that he doesn’t notice how quiet Jason is, too.

However, in the end, the thermometer still reads 33°C.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters. “I really thought I had it.”

“Guess I can put my shirt back on.” Jason makes no move to do so.

“Yeah.” Tim is looking at his notes again, trying to figure out where he went wrong. His joking words at the beginning aside, there are still options, avenues for him to pursue. It’s just that these are the most promising ones, and Tim can’t bear the thought of failure. The idea that Jason will just—will just have to live like this, forever cold and disconnected—

He lifts his face when he hears Jason putting his shoes and jacket on. “You don’t have to leave. I can still—“

“Nah, it’s fine. There’re only so many sex jokes I can make before even I can take the hint,” Jason sighs. “Thanks, though, Tim. I really appreciate the effort.” He turns toward the window.

It takes 4.7 seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up with that, and then another 2.4 for it to convince his body to move.

“Jay! Wait!”

The Solution

The afternoon sun throws golden rays into their bedroom. Tim can feel her rays tickle his face, his eyes, so he turns further into the embrace that’s been offered to him all night. Jason doesn’t wake up, just snuffles out a slight snore and pulls Tim half on top of him as if his boyfriend is some sort of overgrown teddy bear.

Tim snuggles into the crook of Jason’s neck contently. In his opinion, there’s no better place to be: His lover underneath him, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, warm and alive and here for Tim…

Wait.

Warm. Jason’s warm.

Tim scrambles up and frantically reaches for his bedside, where the damned thermometer has a place of pride after the last time he got sick, and Jason returned the favor by taking his temperature every five minutes.

“Babybird…?” Jason’s voice is rough with sleep. Tim feels a little bad about waking him up, but: !!!!

The thermometer climbs. And climbs. When it stops, it reads 36°C degrees.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Tim whispers, awed.

“Nope,” Jason agrees amiably. “You’ll figure it out, though. Can I have some more snuggles first?”

On the one hand, Tim is dying to look this up in the literature and maybe talk to someone who knows Lazarus Pits better. This doesn’t make sense scientifically, so there has to be some magic involved, right? Perhaps the pits are more into metaphors than they thought, or—there are so many possibilities, and Tim can’t wait to explore them.

On the other hand… Jason’s looking soft and warm, opening his arms for Tim, and he’s smiling. It’s no contest, really.

Tim presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek and sinks back into his embrace, scientific pursuits forgotten.

#elareine writes #jaytim

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alittlextrathatway · 3 years

Note

Penelope/Colin: “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

YAY SOMETHING BESIDES BRETTSEY. (Not that I don’t love them.) I’ve never written Polin before! I’m excited to play! 🙌🏻 Thank you!

How about a modern AU for this one? Just cause.

******

It all started because of the pandemic.

He’d been perfectly happy traveling. It’s not like he had anything else to occupy his time. He wasn’t particularly talented and he didn’t have any hobbies or interests. Aside from eating but he doubted his mother would approve of him becoming one of those professional hot dog eaters and he didn’t care enough for the piddly portions of fine dining to become a food critic.

The only thing that truly distracts him from his lack of drive or ambition is traveling — learning about the world and it’s many cultures.

He has journal after journal full of his discoveries and experiences. Travel is really his only love.

Which is why he’d stopped and started his studies so many times. He took a year between high school and college to backpack through Europe. Then another year after freshman year to “study abroad”, not that he actually studied. Which is why his mother forced him to come back and finish his third year stateside. After that, he’d set off traveling again. Every year he found another excuse not to come home for any longer than a month or two, allowing him to put off his final year.

It’s not as if he’s getting a degree in anything useful. He’s an English major. And it’s not as if his career isn’t already decided for him. Upon graduation he’ll be given an office at Bridgerton Family Publishing. Doing what? Well, no one knows. Not even him.

So, what’s the rush?

He’d still be gone abroad right now if not for COVID forcing him to return home. God, he hates 2020. What a waste of a year. He came home too late for the spring 2020 term so he’s spent the last several months going absolutely crazy.

He’s a man of the world who is not being allowed to go out and see it. He can’t imagine anything more cruel.

Actually, no, he takes that back. There’s one thing:

Using the time he’s forced to stay in Mayfair to discover he’s completely and stupidly in love with his little sister’s best friend.

The friend who overheard him, last time he was home for any considerable length of time, declaring to his brothers that he would never be interested in her.

Because, of course, Colin Bridgerton is a colossal jackass who doesn’t know a good thing when it’s been staring him in the face his entire life.

There’s laughter coming from the direction of the foyer. Very distinctive laughing. One high and tinkling like a pretty little bell and the other deeper and hoarser. The alto to the other’s soprano. The alto in this case is his younger sister, Eloise, and the soprano is Penelope.

The woman he should have noticed long before now.

He gets up from where he’s lounging on the sofa, mournfully watching the Travel Channel, and takes his plate full of sandwiches with him.

He finds them giggling and applying lipstick in the mirror by the front door. They look dressed to go out. Eloise in her slick tailored pant suit and intricately adorned lace top, in monochromatic lavender. And Penelope in…

Holy shit, what is that?

Apparently, it’s the instrument of his imminent death if the erratic beating of his heart is any indication. He’s going to have some sort of attack and go into cardiac arrest right here in the foyer of his childhood home.

It’s a tight forest green dress that has an off the shoulder neckline. It hugs her curves so perfectly that he thinks someone must have sewn it onto her. It shows the perfect amount of skin along her neck and shoulders, giving just a tiny glimpse of cleavage.

And she’s had a haircut since she was here yesterday. Her ginger locks now rest against her cheeks in a wavy stylish bob. She was beautiful before. He was never blind to that as some other people around Pen have proven to be, but now...

She’s absolutely stunning.

So stunning that other people will surely see what he sees. And he’s grateful for that, truly. She deserves to be seen as she is — brilliant and beautiful — but that means he’s about to have competition while trying to win her over. And he is not grateful for that.

He’s been trying to be more forward with her when they’re alone but that doesn’t happen often and he’s not sure Penelope takes him very seriously. (No one does.) She seems to always be in disbelief when he flirts with her.

“Where are you two off to?” He asks, leaning against the wall opposite the mirror.

“Double date,” Eloise says, fluffing her hair in the mirror. “Pen arranged it. She met someone extremely gorgeous at the library today.”

Penelope blushes and grins demurely. “It’s the magic of a fresh cut,” she says motioning to her new hair. “He was there with his friend and we were all scrambling for resources for our bibliographies together and he asked if I wanted to get dinner and I asked if Eloise could come. No big deal.”

“It doesn’t look as if it’s not a big deal,” Colin observes, his gaze sweeping over Penelope from head to toe.

“His father owns that new super exclusive restaurant Kate’s been begging Anthony to take her too. You know, La Table Gourmande?” Eloise explains.

“The one that told Anthony the next available reservation was in two months? That restaurant?” Colin asks, trying not to scowl.

Really, there was no need for this guy to show off. He seems a bit full of himself.

“That’s the one,” Penelope replies with a nod. “He says he can get us the Chef’s table tonight. I’ve never done anything like that before. It sounds exciting. Might be the closest I ever get to authentic French cuisine. For a while anyway.”

Okay, so now he feels like a heel for wanting to keep her from going out. He knows he’s lucky his family is so well off. It allows him to travel. Penelope’s family, while not destitute, has spent most of their surplus funds putting three daughters, soon to be a fourth, through school. In fact, if not for a distant rich aunt who died they wouldn’t even have been able to afford that.

Any money Penelope used to travel would have to be her own, and he isn’t sure how much of that she has.

“Pen,” Eloise calls, interrupting Colin’s thoughts. “Have you seen my clutch? Did I bring it down?”

“I don’t see it anywhere,” Penelope says with a shake of her head. “Did you leave it on your dresser?”

Eloise groans in irritation, turning toward the main staircase of their massive house. “I guess I did. I’ll be right back.”

Finally, they’re alone. Colin clears his throat and sets the plate of sandwiches he’d been snacking on down on the hall table. He crosses the space until he’s standing mere inches away from her.

“Don’t go out tonight. I can take you somewhere else. Somewhere better,” Colin suggests.

“Better?” Penelope asks skeptically.

He nods. “I have a friend who opened a restaurant here that I met while I was in Nice. It’s smaller than that La Table Gourmand monstrosity and not quite considered fine dining but it’s real. It’s better. It’ll be closer to actually being in France than anything in that obnoxious place.”

“I don’t see why I can’t go with Marcus tonight and then you some other time,” she tells him, lifting one perfect brow and pursing her lips.

“This guy sounds like a prick,” Colin says with a scoff. “Bragging about his father’s connections on the first date? That’s not a good sign, Pen. Trust me, I know these things. I’m a guy.”

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug, a small knowing grin on her lips. “But I think I should decide that for myself. Don’t you?”

That grin…

She knows exactly what he’s trying to do.

She’s being difficult on purpose.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave,” she challenges him, continuing to grin smugly.

Well, if that’s the game she wants to play then so be it.

“Why waste a night figuring out what I already know when you could just let me take you out instead for what, we both know, would be a better time?” Colin asks, caressing the length of Penelope’s arm with a light tender touch.

She sucks in a breath at the contact, but doesn’t show any weakness in her expression. “Yes, but going out with Marcus would be a date that might actually lead to something. What would be the purpose of ditching a real date for you instead?”

“Oh, you want it to lead to something?” He asks, a smirk growing on his face as he backs her up toward the wall.

“Y—yes,” she stammers, her grin slipping as nerves shine in her eyes.

Her back hits the wall and he brings one hand to her cheek, cupping her face and trailing his thumb along her cheekbone.

He leans down, nearly closing the distance between them but stops just short of kissing her. “Come out with me, Pen, and you can choose where it leads. I’ll give you whatever future I have, even if I have no idea what it is. You set the terms, you call the shots.”

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush but she instinctively leans into his hand. Call him a cocky bastard, but that’s the moment he knows he’s won. The moment he knows she’ll choose him.

“I set the terms?” She asks, biting her bottom lip while she stares at his.

He nods, waiting for the moment she leans up and kisses him.

“Well, then you know what I think?” She asks, rhetorically while she rests a hand on his chest.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

She smiles wickedly and pushes him away by one step. “I think you could do with some healthy competition.”

She sidesteps him and saunters off to the front door, leaving him gaping at her like a fool.

Like a besotted, astonished, completely smitten fool.

Eloise reappears, patting Colin’s shoulder as she follows after Penelope. “Tell mom we’ll be back late.”

They leave, the door shuts, and all he can think is…

Well played, Penelope Featherington.

But the Bridgertons are famously competitive and this game is only just beginning. He’ll win her over yet.

Wait and see.

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin #fanfiction #my fic #angellwings writes #fanfiction prompt game #ask prompt #long post #SORRY THIS IS LONG FOR A TUMBLR PROMPT 😬#new ship for me so be gentle 🙏��

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

scrubs - 2.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death. if you are not comfortable with these warnings please dni.

< previous chapter

- Where are you going? - Miriam rose her head from the work bench as Y/N took her gloves and googles off, disposing of both in the yellow bin. - Y/N, where are you going? Don’t leave me alone with the trainees.

- I’m going to get dinner. No eating in the lab, remember?

- Urgh, couldn’t you have gone to dinner when Michael was here? You’re leaving me alone with the trainees ... and the ask so many questions. - she whispered the last part, afraid the trainees would hear her and hit her over the head with their very heavy portfolios. - I’m going next.

- Hour break, don’t you dare page me. - she pointed her finger menacingly at Miriam before clocking out and heading out for dinner. If they had told her during her sleepless nights spent revising for her least favourite modules the most exciting time of her shifts would be the bland food served by the hospital cafeteria, she would’ve just become a pharmaceutical researcher. Yet again, you need to start at the bottom if you want to get to the top and Y/N was more than ready to climb that moment.

She pressed the button for the lift, leaning against her own hand as she tried to wake herself up. Turns out studying and staying up all night applying for PhD projects and then coming to work at 7AM is not the way to go for energy. Luckily, the black tea she had drank this morning had managed to keep her awake, however the caffeine was starting to slowly leave her system and she still had a few more hours awaiting her. As she was about to fall asleep while waiting for the lift to make it to the lower floors, she heard her name being called out.

- Y/N? - she looked to her side to see Peter standing next to her. They’ve known each other since freshers and if there was someone who was always wide awake during twenty four hour shifts it was him. He worked currently in the clinical biochemistry laboratory, mostly coming over to visit Y/N whenever they were working on cardiac infection cases together. - I looked at the file you gave me. CRP is actually present but quite low, could be recovery phase from an infection. My guess with abdominal pain would be a UTI.

- You reckon it hit recovery phase by itself?

- Listen, some pharmacy assistant might’ve given him antibiotics. Who knows but I’d get a urine analysis, do some cultures and see how’s it going but from my point of view, it’s in recovery phase.

- You’re a superstar, Peter. - she hugged him just as the lift doors opened. - You’re going up?

- Yeah, it’s dinner time. I think they’re serving meatballs today. Exciting stuff. - the two stepped onto the lift. - Miriam said Dr. Stan came down today. You’re still giving him hell?

- I am not giving him hell. He’s just constantly sending samples either mislabelled or misplaced and he expects me to lecture his nursing staff about it.

- I don’t know, Y/N. Back at university you spent 2 hours arguing an answer with a lecturer, I just think you like arguing. - he chuckled as the doors opened onto the floor where the cafeteria was. - Or maybe you like arguing with Dr. Stan.

Before she could complain about the snide comment, Peter took to having a chat with a nurse he was particular sweet on leaving Y/N with her mouth open ready to argue and a finger pointed at him. She rolled her eyes, collecting herself as she released her hair from the ponytail which held it safely high up so her scalp could rest for a few hours before it had to go back up. Walking into the green lit cafeteria, the room was filled with half asleep medical staff digging through the bland food like mindless zombies. She did not blame them, she too sometimes would switch off her brain during breaks but lately all the free time she had was dedicated to applications after applications, despite the fact she kept getting rejections every single day.

The scientist grabbed a worn out plastic blue tray, getting a batch on weirdly shaped meatballs from the cafeteria lady as well as some odly too yellow noodles. Hey, it is food, her brain told her as she grabbed a diet Pepsi and a slice of apple pie which was the only eatable dessert around.

- Didn’t you owe me dinner?

- You almost made me drop my tray. - she gave the resident doctor a dirty look, gripping tighter onto the tray. - And I’ll be damned if I ever owe you dinner but I do have your blood culture results and we did sort out your weird infection case.

- It is not my infection case.

- Fine, your patient’s infection case. God heavens if any interns knew that you had an infection, that way they wouldn’t fawn over you. - she rolled her eyes at him, setting her tray in the first table she came over. He did the same, placing his tray right in front of hers before sitting in the metal chair with a cocky grin. - Go away, I’ll send over the report to your office.

- Have you not figured it out yet and trying to buy yourself more time? Or are you trying to escape the dinner date you set up with me?

- That might work on your interns but not on me, Stan. Besides, it is an infection.

- But there’s no worrying levels CRP besides, what about the abdominal pain? Surely CRP and white blood cells would be off the roof.

- Okay, since you probably missed Biochemistry in med school I will explain it to you. The CRP levels are high during initial phases and lower down during resolve. Your patient is probably on recovery phase already. Recovery means it is fixing itself. Do you need me to explain CRP to you?

- If you pulled that out with any other doctor, you would’ve gotten told off.

- Other doctors don’t ask me stupid questions. - she pointed her fork at him. - Dr. Mackie never sends the samples in the wrong vials.

- What about the blood cultures?

- Congratulations, Dr. Your patient is not septic. It’s most likely localised but I’d suggest ordering some X-rays if you wanna localise where it actually is. I wash my hands of your troubles. - she shrugged, wrapping her fork in the spaghetti laying on her plate. - Need anything else, Dr. Stan?

- I remember being promised a dinner date.

- You should get your ears checked, the only thing I promised you was data and you’re lucky I also gave you a data ana ... - the scientist was interrupted by her pager beeping loudly against her belt. She grumbled, looking down at her belt with a look that would scare anyone. - Duty calls.

- How convenient it went off now.

- Unlike you, Dr. Stan, I have a team to lead.

- Sounds complicated, Y/N. You sure you don’t need a babysitter?

She turned around as she was about to leave, raising his middle finger at him before rushing down the hall as her pager beeped uncontrollably. So much for not paging her during dinner time. Someone better be dying, she thought to herself as she slide her card into the door slot to get access. What she came in contact with was not what she was expecting from a laboratory of trained professionals. Miriam was holding one of the trainees head forward whose nose was bleeding all over her worktop bench.

- Miriam, what the fuck?

- Don’t look at me. Thomas ... - she squinted at the boy whose head she was holding forward. - Started bleeding when he smelled the knee aspiration.

- Oh no. - Y/N put some gloves on before walking over to the two. - Okay, Miriam call a code orange. I’ll take Thomas upstairs and get him sorted.

- It’s so stinky.

- I know. - Y/N handed them two cotton balls from the jar to her left. - Put them up your nose.

What would be a day in the laboratory if a newbie didn’t either faint or got nose bleeds from samples? Definitely not a day in her laboratory. She looked around the busy hospital grounds, trying to find any free, available nurses but they were all overworked. No wonder why, whenever midnight rolled around, people started coming in left and right from club brawls and the grounds were always a nightmare.

- What you got there, Miss Y/L/N? Is this how you lead your team?

- Fuck off, Stan. I do not have time to listen to your comments, I need to find a nurse.

- What happened, kid? - Sebastian looked to the 19 year old medical laboratory assistant holding cotton against his nose. - Lab that bad? Come on, I’ll fix you up.

- Thanks. - she mumbled, following the two men into one of the free areas. Thomas sat on the table while Sebastian pulled up a chair to sit in, Y/N remaining up on her feet.

- So kid, what happened? Y/N rough you up too much?

- He got a nosebleed from the smell of a knee fluid from an aspiration. - Y/N replied to him, much to Thomas delight who felt more than embarrassed about the situation he was in. - Is this what you’re doing now, Dr. Stan? Minor cases? Did the chief of medicine finally realised you’re unqualified?

- No. - he spoke as he pointed out his light at the trainees nose, to look for any specific damage. - One of my patient’s in critical care but it seems to have stabilised for now at least.

- Oh ... sorry. What happened to them?

- Sepsis. - he turned off the lights. - Listen kid, it’s nothing to bad. Just stay sat here and firmly pinch the soft part of your nose, just above your nostrils, for about 15 minutes. Don’t forget to lean forward and breathe through your mouth. Me or one of the nurses will come check on you after to see if it has improved but so far, so good.

- I’ll return to the lab. Page me when you’re ready to return, okay? - she gave the young starter a kind smile before pulling the curtains and letting him be. Unfortunately for her, Stan would not let her be. - Keep it.

- How weak are your staff? How are they gonna react to when they actually see infected body parts?

- I said keep it. - she crossed her arms, ready to leave and return to the laboratory until she remembered something. She turned around on her heel, passive aggressive smile on her lips as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - Also, Dr. Stan, the infected tissue samples you sent us had the wrong birthdate on them.

- C’mon Y/N.

- They’re on hold until you speak with the laboratory manager about them. Good luck.

He opened his mouth to fight with her but she had already gotten into the elevator. The rest of her shift was pretty uneventful with her and a few of her colleagues having to pick up the pace to get everything sorted before they left. Miriam and her fiance left first at 1AM leaving Y/N to count the minutes til 2 AM rolled around. Once the clock read 2AM, like a speeder, she was out of that laboratory and into the elevator before anyone could call her. Walking to her parking spot, the sky was dark, the lot light by harsh yellow barely brightening. As she walked over to the second handed baby blue Fiat 500, she noticed someone hunched over and sat on the top of a black new model Audi, smoke coming out from his cigarette. Normally, she would’ve just avoided it and gotten into her car to go home but the turquoise scrubs were much too familiar at this point.

- Dr. Stan? - her boots hit the gravel as she stood just a few meters away from him. - Do they not teach you in medical school that smoking increases the chance of lung cancer?

- Not now, Y/N. - no sarcastic remark? That was a new one. He threw the cigarette butt onto the ground once it was all over, feet rubbing it against the gravel. - Not now.

- I thought your shift finished at 1:30? Pulling overtime hours? Someone needed your assistance? Death time?

- My septic patient died. - she immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Death was not something she particularly dealt with. Surely, some results were awful, specially in cases of ultra resistant bacteria showing up in the blood but that’s what they were, results. She didn’t see the patient, in all honesty all she would know the patient would be by a barcode number. - Sepsis quickly lead to organ failure. I don’t understand ... she was getting better.

- Sepsis is unpredictable. You did the best you could do.

- And you’d know? All you do is be in the laboratory and do tests. What would you know about it?

- Okay ... - she put her hands on her hips. - Are you on any antibiotics, prescription pain killers, sedative drugs, statins or any antidepressants?

- I don’t see the point.

- The bar nearby has a discount for hospital staff. It’s only a five minute walk and everyone else is so miserable, you don’t feel bad about being miserable.

- I’m not going to the bar in my scrubs, Y/N.

- If you’re okay wearing those ... - she pointed at his scrubs. - Then you are okay wearing them at the bar.

She was right, the bar did look miserable. Not in a miserable way which would require regulation to shut down the place but miserable in a way one would just be at home wallowing in their pity with a pint of beer and right now that was all he needed. He sat in a sticky red booth, in front of her with a pint of beer while she picked a cocktail from the menu.

- You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d come here.

- And I’m not but they sell really cheap burgers at lunchtime. - she put her hand under her chin. - Besides, I’ve done this before.

- When did you convince someone to come to the bar because their patient flat lined?

- You know Dr. Liam Watts?

- Surgery residency? I’ve heard about him before. - her lips tensed in a straight line as she leaned her head on her shoulder. - No. You’ve been here with Bucktooth Watts before?

- Yeah... even after he clearly needed support after he couldn’t save his first patient, he still decided to take me on a date here.

- I’m sorry, you dated Bucktooth Watts? - he chuckled, downing whatever was left of his pint, signalling the bartender to bring him another one.

- This is why we don’t hang out. He’s not bucktoothed.

- Sure, sure. I see the appeal, I mean over Christmas at least you have someone to cut the carrots.

The night went onwards with a bunch of maybe irresponsible drinking. Y/N was two mojitos in and she was already tipsy and giggling like a school girl, not really used to drinking. Sebastian was in the same state as her, trying not to laugh at everything as they stepped outside to grab a taxi. At least both of them were conscious enough to decide not to drive.

- No, you did not get locked in the vroom cupboard during your residency. - she held her belly as she laughed.

- I did and my senior doctor did not notice I was gone. I was stuck there for 5 hours.

- Oh god. - she held herself against the wall. - I always knew you were a clutz. You know, you’re the only doctor who hasn’t told off his nurses about the blood bottles.

- Can I tell you a secret? - he whispered mid laughter. - I am afraid of them.

- Oh my god. - she held her hand on his shoulder covering her mouth with the other one. - See, this is why I constantly argue with you. You’re soft, doctor.

- Arguing with you is the best part of my day. You look really hot when you’re telling me off.

- You look terrible when I tell you off. - the two of them stopped laughing, looking into each other eyes for the first time since they’d been out of the laboratory. Maybe it was the alcohol but at that moment, the best idea to the two of them was to lean towards each other, his hands grasping each side of her waist as they connected the space between them, getting together into a hot long kiss.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan doctor au #doctor!sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

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danwhobrowses · 3 years

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Star Wars Visions - Review

So I finally finished watching all of Visions, the ambitious anime project set in a Star Wars loose if at all canon, and I truly had a good time with it, as a fan of anime and Star Wars I was curious how they would deliver.

Spoilers for Visions, watch it then come back here to read what I thought about it. Reminder: This is my own personal opinion

So as I said, really enjoyed this experiment Disney decided to take, the 9 episodes weren't all flawless but they weren't awful either, so I'm gonna go through what I liked and disliked about it.

We'll start with the negatives, since they're few, picky and it gets it out of the way.

What Wasn't Great

Runtime A veiled negative has to be many episode's runtimes being too short, some only lasting 10-15 minutes. Before watching I was expecting all to be at least 30 minutes, so it was a shame that none lasted that long.

Episode 2: Glorified Music Video I think Episode 2 was perhaps the weakest episode of the nine for me, because it was all building up to a song. I think it probably leaned a bit too much on existing characters like Jabba and Boba, as well as Tatooine, to carry interest, so it was a bit of a low point.

Episode 3: Studio Trigger keep their balls away from the wall Episode 3's The Twins wasn't bad, it just lingered a bit too much on the less fun things. Studio Trigger had made a name for themselves for striking visuals and absolutely batshit crazy fight scenes that ignore all manner of physics with the likes of Promare, Kill La Kill and Darling of the Franxx (and kinda Gurren Lagann, the company was made as a result of that so it's like a Studio Ghibli thing with Nausicaa) but The Twins didn't have enough of the major fight scene for my liking, given how most of what we saw was in the trailer. Maybe it's the fault of the trailer, but it did feel like you could just watch the trailer rather than the episode, which is a bad thing.

Episode 7 too, but it also lacks bravery The Elder was also a good episode, but it too lacked in the final fight, the ending being very abrupt. The Elder also had a problem in that they wasted their good characters, but also failed in stakes. Had the padawan been killed instead of simply being wounded by a lightsaber slash to the belly it probably would've worked more, since we were shown that the Elder is precise in his cutting and it would've served to increase the urgency of the master fighting him too. The fight was short and out of the characters we lost it was the most important character that bit the dust.

The Episode Order could've been Better My final criticism has to be that the order of the episodes felt like it could've been better. Starting with The Duel was right but following it up with Tatooine Rhapsody brought the mood down, likewise putting The Elder after T0-B1 was perhaps too jarring a theme switch. The bigger sin was probably ending with Akakiri. Akakiri was good, but it was a downer and you don't really finish a Season 1 on a downer because you want people to feel excited for more rather than feeling bleak about it; with the options of Lop & Ocho, The Elder, The Village Bride and The Ninth Jedi (which would've been my pick for episode 9) it was an odd choice to pace the episodes in such a way - even when knowing that people would binge in this order. FYI if you wanted to know how I would've ordered the episodes it would've been The Duel -> The Elder -> The Twins -> Lop & Ocho -> Tatooine Rhapsody -> T0-B1 -> The Village Bride -> Akakiri -> The Ninth Jedi

This way we start strong with Sith-heavy episodes that grip with combat, we have the Duel to set us off, we show off the Elder to sell the Dark Side's strength, which blends into the Twins and that sibling relationship blends into Lop & Ocho, we use Tatooine Rhapsody as an intermission of sorts but then carry the lighter theme with T0-B1, whose artistic elements and worldbuilding leans into the Village Bride. We make Akakiri the penultimate since we show the Jedi succumb to the Dark for love in contrast to the Elder where the Jedi succeeds by steeling emotions, before finishing strong with Ninth Jedi.

What Was Great

Anime is perfect for Star Wars Star Wars has of course delved into animation before; Clone Wars (both), Rebels, Resistance and Bad Batch, but never like Anime. So Visions was allowed to shine by showing off everything anime can offer which more realistic CGI and live action could not. Bright colour grading, physics-defying movement, as well as unique character and lightsaber shapes.

(Mostly) Not Wasting Time While I have criticized some episodes for not making the most of things, and not having enough time, but many episodes would last 12-15 minutes and still feel like they had a coherent storylines with no gaps in getting to know the brand new characters or a lack of important information and investment. It is a testament to the good writing of the episodes that episodes got so much from such little time.

We're Left Wanting More In spite many episodes' brevity, the good writing also provided us stories with great potential to be fleshed out. Who wouldn't want to learn more about these new characters? See most of their adventures? The franchise potential from certain stories' one episode makes the experiment an unequivocal success.

The different styles add to the story Using a different anime studio for each story allowed each episode to stand out in their own way, and lean on different areas of importance. The Duel for instance applied a Kurosawa aesthetic which made the audience anticipate samurai themes. As much as the animation will get props for its visuals, environments and character design we should also give a hat-tip to the amazing music, especially in The Village Bride, and the voice acting from both JP and EN. We had some recognizable faces on both sides with EN having Joseph Gordon-Levitt, David Harbour, George Takei, Neil Patrick Harris, Allison Brie, Simu Liu, Karen Fukuhara, Lucy Liu and Taemura Morrison reprising as Boba, while on the JP side we had names familiar with One Piece (Zoro - why you gotta be a sith Zoro!, Brook, Tama, Kiku), DBZ (Goku), Naruto (Hidan, Tayuya and if you count Boruto; Chocho and Kawaki), Jujitsu Kaisen (Itadori, Megumi, Nobara) and more. The different styles also allowed a greater freedom to lore between studios, I know the lightsaber colour thing was done in High Republic but I did like how in the Ninth Jedi Kara's lightsaber started out translucent (I actually preferred it that way), while not diverting too far away from the canon.

The Samurai style episodes were the strongest While some episodes leaned on other elements of Star Wars, the best of the bunch kept true with the correlation force users had with samurai. The Duel, Village Bride and Ninth Jedi - alongside Akakiri, Elder and kinda T0-B1 - had strong showings by maintaining their force user characters as samurai or samura-esque, which only added to the themes of the episodes too.

Its success will hopefully entice more Studios and Directors A positive for the future is the fact that there is a future. Visions has plenty of mileage as both a series of one-off stories or stories that can be expanded upon, and its success will mean that more will be on the cards. Imagine now what other studios may want to try their hand at their own story in this universe? And what it does not only for the franchise but also the animation studios themselves, because this in itself becomes a bridge for fans on either side to be introduced to the other; new anime fans, new star wars fans, everybody wins.

Conclusion

Visions provides an alternative in Star Wars media outside of live action but also away from the CGI tv shows, but it has started off strongly almost as well as The Mandalorian and in my opinion better than the Bad Batch did. My favourite episode was probably the Ninth Jedi, but Village Bride and the Duel are close runners up, soon followed by Lop & Ocho, I hope very much that the stories these ones started especially can be fleshed out and maybe even greenlit for their own series, while also curious about what more Star Wars can deliver.

All in all, good job for everyone, they took a risk and it paid off.

#star wars #star wars visions #sw visions #sw visions spoilers #the duel #tatooine rhapsody #the twins #the village bride #t0 b1 #lop and ocho #akakiri #the elder #the ninth jedi

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tenspontaneite · 3 years

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Pigment

Callum discovers the wonders of elven pigments.

(The first of two pieces written for @falling-for-you-a-rayllum-zine, which is now having leftover sales!) ('Future' chapter; takes place post-s3, naturally not canon to TTM. Oneshot. 4k. Ao3 link)

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The first time Callum was introduced to the concept of elvish pigment was, ostensibly, by Rayla’s skin. He’d noted the marks under her eyes in the same hurried, panicked glance that picked out the horns, the ears, the alarming points of the weapons in her hands…

He wondered about them, of course, but in the first frantic two weeks of their acquaintance, there really wasn’t a lot of time to ask about it. Not until the Storm Spire, when he sat mulling over the flight-runes on Ibis’ wings, and how they might have come to be there.

“…So, I’ve been wondering,” he said to Rayla, apropos of nothing, while she was tending to her equipment. She looked up as he began to speak, the armour momentarily forgotten. “Those…markings you have, the ones on your face—and the ones a lot of other elves seem to have—what are they?”

She blinked, and for a moment, her fingers rose to her face, as though only just remembering the marks were there. “They’re pigment?” She offered, squinting at him a little. “…Is that a trick question, or…?”

“No, really, I have no idea what they are.” He assured her. “I was never sure if they were tattoos, or…weird elf birthmarks, or something. But—pigment? Does that mean it’s like…ink? How do you get them on?” Tattoos, as he understood them, involved needles. He hoped elven pigment didn’t involve needles.

For a moment, Rayla stared at him, looking decidedly nonplussed. “You…paint them on?” She offered, still thrown. “With a brush? And then they stay there for a while. Half a year, maybe. Depends on how good your pigment is.”

“Huh.” Callum mused. For a moment, he was tempted to press further, to ask about the intricacies of various pigments and the application thereof…but he’d been asking for a reason, after all, and his attention remained there.

If they were painted on...then that boded well. That meant that it was something that he could do, if only for the presence of the pigment and a brush.

It wasn’t much later that, after a guilty rummage through Ibis’ things, Callum stood at the pinnacle of the Storm Spire and painted flight-runes onto his skin. That was his first true introduction to the pigments of elves. As an artist, he couldn’t help but marvel at it. The pigment was white, yet it entirely obscured the darker colour of his skin with only a single, easy stroke. Only one layer, and it was solidly opaque. It glowed a little—then settled utterly dry, clean, and steadfast upon his arms.

For a moment, he spared a thought to wish that his paints could be like that. He’d dabbled in every form of art medium he could get his hands on over the years, and he’d never worked with any pigment like this one. It would be gorgeous to paint with.

But then he was too distracted trying to fly to think about art any longer, and that was the last mind he paid to pigment for a while.

After the battle of the Storm Spire, he prevailed upon the use of a finer, neater brush, and filled in the edges of his flight-runes until the shape of each was perfect and immaculate. Ibis watched him with a critical eye, and nodded.

“The spell will come easier if the runes are tidy.” He said, approvingly. “You’ll need to re-apply the pigment every three months. Any longer than that and it will begin to fade—which isn’t so great an issue when the marks are merely aesthetic, but with runes…”

“I can see how you wouldn’t want these fading, no.” Callum said ruefully, and accepted the little bottle of white pigment with a murmur of gratitude. He tucked it into his things for the next time he and Rayla went travelling, and she smiled at him.

“Packing your pigment for the journey, Callum?” She remarked, a little teasing. “Think we’ll be gone that long, do you?”

He laughed, and shrugged, glancing down at one of his arms. “I guess it’s just in case, really. I shouldn’t need to touch them up again for months, but…you never know. Wouldn’t want to end up flightless for some reason.”

“I suppose you are a tad obsessed with flying, now.” She agreed, as if she wasn’t always finding excuses for him to sweep her up into the sky for another flight. She reached out, absentminded, and trailed a fingertip around the curve of one rune with the trace of a smile on her lips. “Still, if it came down to it, you could always borrow mine.”

He glanced up at her, startled. “Your pigment?” He checked, eyes settling on the marks beneath her eyes. “I didn’t know you had any with you.”

“I don’t. Need to pick some up from Ethari, when we visit.” She said, succinctly, and he supposed that was another reason for their stopping at Silvergrove on the way to Katolis. How long had it been, since she last refreshed her pigment? Did she need to do it again soon, or was she just planning for the future?

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating her, feeling his heart flutter with a familiar warmth. If her markings had faded at all since he met her, it wasn’t immediately obvious to him. They looked as clear and lovely as ever; a natural part of her face. It was strange to think of what she might look like without them.

Rayla eyed him, when he’d stared a little too long and smiled a little too softly, and huffed at him. Her cheeks pinked a little, the colour darkening her markings. “What are you looking at?” She muttered to him, a touch self-conscious. Rather than look away, he smiled at her all the wider, and captured the hand she had on his arm to plant a kiss on its fingers.

“You.” He said, very contentedly, and watched with pleasure as her face coloured and her fingers twitched beneath his touch.

“Dumb prince.” She sighed, a smile spreading unbidden and affectionate across her lips. It was beautiful, so of course he kissed that too. He felt the widening of that smile against his mouth, and lingered there for as long as she’d let him before she prodded him away to finish packing.

She gave his arms a strange look, though, when he next bared them. Appraising, almost, with a narrow-eyed sort of consideration. “…What?” He asked, when she’d been staring long enough to warrant the question.

“Your runes are…neat.” She said, tone as considering as her eyes. “Tidy.” She shook her head then. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, with all the art you do. Of course you’d be good at painting skin-pigment.” He eyed her, because there was clearly more to this observation than just surprise that he’d managed some tidy brushwork, but all she said when he asked was “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He didn’t believe her, obviously. Not with the way she kept shooting half-considering looks at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. But he didn’t press her, and she didn’t mention whatever was on her mind. In time, he forgot about it.

Until they were back in the Silvergrove.

Rayla asked Ethari, and within the minute he was pressing a small dark bottle and a fine brush into her hands. “I did wonder if you needed any.” He said, as she turned the glass over and the indigo liquid swirled around within. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” She agreed, pocketing the vial and the brush both. “It’ll start fading soon. So…thanks.”

He nodded at her, all warmth and familial affection. “Not a problem. Did you want me to help with that while you’re here?”

She hesitated, then, and for a moment…for a moment, her eyes slid to Callum, who’d been watching them idly over the top of his sketchbook. “…I’m good.” She settled on, eventually, and if there was anything particularly knowing about Ethari’s smile then, Callum didn’t notice it.

He kept drawing, content in that she was content, and happy to be in her home under happier circumstances than the first.

But then, later: “I wanted to ask you something.” Rayla said, abruptly, when it was just the two of them in what was ostensibly her childhood room. It had been adapted over the years for a growing teenager, but still maintained hints of the past lingering within its walls. He spotted a child’s doodle of a shadowpaw etched into the grain of the dresser, and suppressed a smile.

He turned to her, eyes crinkling a little at the thought of a tiny rambunctious Rayla who scrawled over the walls and furniture. “Yeah?” He responded, a little distracted, as he wondered if there were perhaps any baby or childhood portraits in residence somewhere. He should ask Ethari. If there were any to be found, surely he’d know.

That distraction fled the instant she spoke. “Will you paint my pigment for me?” She asked, directly, and his eyes shot to her at once. At his expression, she added, “You don’t have to. But it needs doing soon, or it’ll start fading faster.” She paused, looking a little more tentative as she said, “If you don’t want to, Ethari can—”

“No,” he blurted, clumsy, then scrambled to say “I mean, yes, I mean—I mean I’d like that. To help. To, er. Paint your pigment on.” He felt his face heat, in part from how he’d stumbled over the words, and in part because…well. He might not know a lot about elven pigment and elven markings, but he was fairly sure that they were…personal. That painting someone’s markings for them was personal.

His reply settled her, and she huffed, lips twitching with familiar fondness. “…Good.” She said, in the end, and surprised him by leaving the room without further word. He blinked after her, uncertain whether he was supposed to follow, but then she returned a bare few moments later with a towel and a wet cloth that she was already wiping her face with.

“Er,” he offered, perplexed, as she dried her face off and set the towel and cloth both down. He didn’t understand until she plucked the bottle of pigment from her dresser and pressed it into his fingers. “Now?” His voice was something of a squeak, and she rolled her eyes.

“When else?” She asked, procuring a brush and giving him that too. “We’re setting off tomorrow. Now’s best.” She paused. “…That okay?”

Her voice had gone tentative again, and his chin jerked up, fingers tightening around brush and bottle as if worried she’d take them away. “No, yeah, it’s okay,” he assured her, and then laughed, a little nervously. “I just…wasn’t expecting it.” He cleared his throat, and took a closer look at the brush. It was like the one he’d filled his own runes in with, fine and delicate and short enough that it didn’t seem liable to flick off in weird directions. “…So I just…paint this onto your face?” He asked, after a moment, feeling his cheeks heat for reasons he couldn’t quite put to words. It felt special, in a way that was hard to describe.

“That is how it works.” Rayla answered, dryly, and then tugged him by the rune-adorned arm until they were both sitting on the floor, towel and cloth at close remove. He supposed those were there in case of spillages, though considering how quickly elvish pigment took hold, he wasn’t sure how much good a towel would do. He wondered if there was some sort of solvent, magical or otherwise, that was up to the task of dissolving pigment like this.

“What happens if I make a mistake when I’m putting your pigment on?” He wondered aloud, only half directing it at her. “Do you just have to walk around with it on your face for months?”

She snorted, and shook her head. “Nah. There’s pigment-remover for that.”

A little tension eased from his shoulders. “Oh, good,” he sighed, relieved. “That’s much less pressure, then.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Just paint my face, Callum.”

He chuckled at her, a little nervously, and uncapped the bottle. The liquid inside was so much darker than the pigment he used, and bizarrely true in its colour. Usually, inks tended to look much darker than their actual colour when they were in the bottle. It was only when you painted them onto a page that you could see how light and bright they were. This, though…it was just solid, liquid indigo, as if someone had distilled the concept of the colour of Rayla’s markings and spilled it into a bottle. “This would be amazing to paint with.” He murmured, somewhat distractedly, watching the pigment shimmer in the low light.

Rayla didn’t answer that, which was unusual enough that his eyes darted to hers, and found her looking strangely thoughtful. She shook her head, though, as if to dispel some thought, and started giving the pigment bottle and the brush some very meaningful looks. He laughed, softly, and obeyed the unspoken command; he dipped the brush in, drained off the excess, and then lifted it. It was dyed the same solid, true indigo—a colour that he was about to put onto her skin.

It hit him then, or at least started to; he looked between the brush and her face and felt his breath catch at—at something. It felt a little like panic, a little like wonder, a little like the breathless infatuation she always managed to inspire in him. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do with it, and just…stared at her, heart beating wildly at—at the trust, and the honour, that he couldn’t help but feel she’d given him.

She was looking impatient by the time he finally moved, and likely would have spoken if not for how he shuffled closer, until their knees were touching. Her mouth closed, watching him, eyes settling on his own as he reached towards her. His fingers brushed the edge of her jaw, feather-light, as tentative as he always was when he remembered that someone as amazing as her had deigned to be with someone like him. His breath caught in his throat as he lifted his hand, thumb tracing tenderly along a cheek that warmed beneath his touch.

He cupped her face in his hand, then, unable to resist the impulse, and she leaned into it without even thinking. Her eyes fell half-lidded for a moment, the smallest smile twitching at the edges of her lips, and he wanted to kiss her. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing, but—but he wanted to, and she was smiling at him, and her eyes were soft and warm in the quiet and low light of the room—

So, he kissed her, and she huffed an amused breath against his lips, lifting a hand to trail affectionate fingers along the side of his neck. “This doesn’t feel like face-painting to me.” She murmured to him, fond and teasing at once, and he wouldn’t have been surprised for a moment if his heart stopped beating for the strength of how much he loved her. “Weren’t you supposed to be doing something?”

He laughed, a little breathless, and the warmth of it spilled between them. “Yeah.” He agreed, helplessly, drawing back with her fingers still warm on his neck and his hand still cupped to her cheek, and paused for a moment to treasure the sight of her looking at him like that. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was that she loved him. He didn’t think he’d ever believe it. “I’ll just…get on that.”

She withdrew her hand, and watched him. Waiting.

His fingers shifted on Rayla’s face, moving to press his thumb gently to the side of the marking under her left eye. Pulling at the skin, ever-so-slightly, to allow for painting it more evenly. Another urge struck him, but this time he suppressed it. He could kiss her cheek-markings later. For now, he was supposed to be painting them. And so…

With an almost reverent care, he lifted the tip of the brush to her face, hovering just above her skin with a heady mixture of breathless wonder and breathless trepidation. He exhaled, softly, and felt her eyes upon him. Watching, warm and fond and expectant.

Finally, with the utmost care, he touched the brush to her skin.

She flinched a little at the touch so close beneath her eye, but he’d expected that. He held the brush steady and traced a slow, perfect line down her cheek, along the edge of the extant marking, like a dark border to the fading colour. And it was fading; he could see that now. It wasn’t noticeable on its own, but with the contrast of the fresh pigment beside it, it was fully obvious that the old colour had begun waning.

With the brush to her skin, Callum’s hushed awe fell in step with the breadth of his skill and practice. He’d never put brush to someone else’s skin before, but that did nothing to diminish his skill. He knew brushwork, and he knew the delicacy needed for fine detail, and…and, in the end, this was easy. Just tracing around an existing marking, and filling it in. There could be nothing easier.

He drew the pigment across her skin in smooth, effortless lines. He traced the borders of her marking and then filled it in, up until when the brush began to run empty, and he had to go for the bottle again. The colour settled fast, immediate, and perfect upon her face, with that gorgeous fidelity he’d never seen in any other pigment or paint or ink in all his life. It was a pleasure to use it, and all the more that he was using it for this.

Callum fell half into an artist’s trance for the remaining minutes it took to finish. He filled the left marking in, stark and perfect, then shifted his fingers tenderly to her other cheek, and repeated the process. When he was done, there was nothing but perfect lines and perfect colour upon a face that he loved.

He smiled, small and satisfied, and set the brush aside. “Done.” He murmured, and leaned forward to press his forehead to hers, cradling her face in both hands. It felt strange, to risk touching her skin when he’d only just painted it. But that was the wonder of elvish pigment; it dried the moment it was applied, and permitted no possibility of smearing whatsoever. He stroked his thumbs beneath her eyes and felt more happy, more tender, more loving than he’d ever known. “Perfect.” He murmured, reverential, the words meant for more than the pigment.

Her eyes blinked across from his own, and he loved them. Loved her. She brought her arms up and drew him closer, one hand splayed on the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ll have you do me some new markings, someday.” She murmured to him, in the end, a small and secret smile at the edges of her lips. He stared at her, spellbound, for the three beats of his heart that lingered between her smile and her movement. She leaned in and closed the meagre distance between them, the kiss soft and sweet and all the more perfect for how dearly he adored her.

He imagined, for a second, drawing that ink-brush again along her skin. Imagined it between her fingers, along her arms, casting indigo whorls about her shoulders. He thought of new pigment, new markings, and the sheer delight of being the one who got to put them there. His heart fluttered. “I’d like that.” He said, against her lips, and she kissed him again.

“Good.” When she drew back, the markings were still stark and beautiful beneath her eyes, where he’d painted them. The sight of them left him a little breathless, even now, unable to shake the sense that he’d been afforded an enormous privilege, a gift of worth beyond measure.

Someday, he hoped, she’d afford him that gift again.

Callum saw the fruits of Rayla’s thoughtful consideration and furtive glances a while later, when July came around and he was startled from thinking about her birthday by the arrival of his own. She cornered him with palpable satisfaction, and gave him a parcel that she very clearly expected him to be delighted with.

She wasn’t wrong.

He unveiled an array of small bottles; thirty-six hues of true and perfect elvish pigment, distilled for the purpose of painting. He beheld them all with a nearly breathless joy, finding the little parcel of pigment-brushes, the bottle of solvent, the masking-fluid….

“You like it?” Rayla asked, with a broad and decidedly smug smile on her face. She clearly already knew the answer.

“I love it.” He pronounced, and set at once to trying them out.

The very first thing he painted was her. She watched him, and huffed as she saw the familiar lines of her own face taking form on the page, pleased and exasperated all at once. She never did seem to understand why he drew her so often, but that was okay. And, with these pigments…

The colours were spectacular, brighter and more intensely pigmented than anything he’d ever seen. He found himself utterly swept away in the delight of using them, and hours later, emerged from his artist’s trance to the completed work: Rayla in the early evening of the Silvergrove, her hair and eyes gleaming softly with the gentle illumination of the lights and moon-moths around her. It was one of the finest works he’d ever produced, and at the sight of it, he concluded the process of falling helplessly in love with Elvish pigment.

Rayla, for all her embarrassment at being painted, seemed to approve of it too. “You picked that up quickly.” She noted, handling the edges of the thick paper with the delicate care it deserved.

“These pigments are my new favourite thing.” He declared, arranging the bottles a little more tidily beside him. His eyes rested, a little consideringly, over another wide sheet of paper. He stared at it for a long while, growing quiet and solemn, and eventually reached out to take it.

He had his birthday traditions to observe, after all.

The second thing he painted with the elven pigments was his family portrait, atrophied and truncated by tragedy. There was no Sarai there, and hadn’t been for years. No Harrow, and that was a new pain. He felt the ghosts of their absence in the lines he didn’t draw, in the colours that never fell upon the page, in the voids of grief that they left in his life.

But there were new faces now, too.

With quiet, exquisite care, he drew himself. He drew Ezran, older now, wearing a mantle that had come for him too soon. He drew Bait in his brother’s arms. He drew Aunt Amaya. And, tenderly: he drew Azymondias and Rayla. The outlines took form, and as the hours passed, elvish pigment filled them in.

In the end, he had his family portrait again. Changed, and echoing with its empty spaces, but…

Quiet, from her place beside him, Rayla slipped her hand into his own.

“Come on,” She said, with the small but tender smile that he loved. “Zym has a present for you too. He’ll be disappointed if he can’t give it to you today.”

Callum exhaled, and let her fingers tighten around his, pulling him up to his feet beside her. His own smile slipped onto his lips. “Then we’d better go find him.” He said, casting a last glance at the portrait on the table. He didn’t resist it when she tugged on his fingers, pulling him away.

With a strange, quiet serenity, he followed her out into the light.

---

end.

This is word-for-word what was published in the Rayllum zine 'Falling For You'; I have made no changes. It’s the shorter and less impressive of my two pieces, but I hope you liked it anyway.

I’ll potentially be making some minor edits to the second piece before posting, given I intend to continue it - in fact, I’ve already got like three extra chapters of it written, though small ones. I’m considerably more excited about that one, so stay tuned!

#rayllum #rayllumzine #tdp fic #tdp callum #tdp rayla #seriously though the soulmate au piece is good times #looking forward to everyone being able to read it #had to do word count negotiations to get a piece that long into the zine lol #the mods kindly granted me a couple extra ks #and then I decided to reduce my word limit for this first piece by 1k so I could shift that to the more exciting piece too #it deserved every word I could give it #this one is nice don't get me wrong #i'm just not made for short decisive pieces #and the soulmate AU's ending is VERY MUCH open-ended #and inviting follow-up #which I then wrote and shared with my closest cohorts #awaiting the day it could be published #looking forward to seeing the comments on my baby

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

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Hiiii, please response me😭

Honestly I wonder why Jk jealous of taemin when taemin & jimin having friendship?? I mean I can clearly see jk's jealousy. Please answer..... Borahae 💜

Ehhhhhh??????? JK is jealous of Taemin????

That's both an understatement and the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! Lol

Don't be shy, he wants to kill him. Say it! Lmho

Why is JK jealous of Taemin? Sounds like an existential question and I don't want to get into all of that mess.

I just slicked my edges down. Can't have these angry mobs peeling it off by force 🤧

But I get it. I used to find JK and Taemin's dynamic intriguing too but frankly, I'm over it. Lol.

I don't think it's as deep as the fandom make it seem. Especially not in 2021.

Word on the streets was Taemin had a thing for JM? and JK wasn't too happy about that- not sure about that but I can't fault him if ever he did. It's Jimin. Who doesn't want him.

But I think it's more delicate than that.

Besides, Jealousy shouldn't be our only go to label to explain every Jungkook emotion out there where JM is concerned.

Personally, I've sought to revolutionize the term Jeonlous and Jimlous in the way that we as a fandom perceive and think on it as a complex human emotion, one that centers mostly on boundaries rather than frivolous feelings of possessiveness or envy.

So to me, if JK really is 'jealous' in regards to Taemin then I'd assume it's because Taemin breached his personal boundaries where JM is concerned. It's as simple as that.

Which I believe was the case.

I try not to speculate on dynamics other than BTS's as it goes against my better conscience- Yes I have one. Shut up and read. Lol.

I tortured myself to death, figuratively speaking of course, the last time I tried commenting on a dynamic outside of BTS- JK and Mijoo's situation.

I don't think it's ethical...

When it comes to JK and Taemin's dynamic, one thing you should understand is they aren't friends. Not that we know of.

Jimin and Taemin are friends in the same interest group, the Padding Squad. JK isn't a member of that interest group- perhaps because he doesn't share their interests.

Jhope passed on becoming a member of the Padding Squad because his hobbies and interests didn't align with that of the members- Sungwoon. He introduced Sungwoon to Suga instead who then introduced him to JM.

One thing that Jhope said about Sungwoon was that he enjoyed outing which was a lifestyle incompatible with his own.

Now since Sungwoon said he clicked with JM right away, I'd assume its because JM enjoyed going out and stuff like that- among other things.

Jk in those days wasn't known as the outing kind and preferred staying indoors to going out. I think this is one of the contrasts between JK and Jimin's personalities.

So if JM has a bunch of friends who enjoy going out as much, then I don't see how JK would fit into that circle.

Taemin and JK move in totally different circles. They don't have much in common beyond the fact they are both close to Jimin. In my opinion. I could be wrong.

Jimin have said he doesn't like to share his friends but of course we've seen him, Sungwoon and JK hang out a few times. Those three have a friendship going on unlike in TaeminMinKook's case.

It's speculated, Jimin introduced JK to Sungwoon but this was during one of Sungwoon's time off and the three got to hang together which I think is great.

Not sure if, JM has had similar opportunity to introduce Taemin and JK. That would depend on their schedules and what they do during their free time.

Introductions are necessary in friendship culture and we cannot undervalue JM's role in facilitating camaradship between those two.

If they are 'not friends' ask JM why. Smirk.

Their 'differences' and why their 'not friends' to me has more to do with their unique individualities and interests but also their age difference and culture?

Jealousy sounds plausible but you have to consider the fact age is a huge thing in the South Korean culture.

Taemin is much older than JK and ordinarily we cannot reasonably expect for them to be as close much less be friends to begin with- per the dictates of their culture.

As much as we love to rave on about the hyung/dongsaeng dynamics in their culture, from the little I know of their culture, older people and younger people aren't expected to mingle so easily or act so casually.

Besides, hyung/dongsaengs aren't considered friendmates in their culture.

A high level of respect and reverence is required within such a dynamic and boundaries are expected to be upheld at all times too so I guess we can chalk it up to that too I think.

The only way a younger person can be considered friends with or close with or even treat an older person as 'a friend' is if the older one allows for that level of familiarity between them.

Without that kind of permission, their relationship is viewed as strictly an older hyung to younger dongsaeng relationship and formality must be respected by both sides.

I think we've talked about this? This is what JK was going on about in his conversation with Tae in Soop. Tae was giving JK permission to treat him as 'friends' within the group but JK insisted on the formality and boundaries expected between them as hyung as and dongsaeng.

If JK believes he needs to uphold boundaries with people older than him and not get too close to them, what makes you think he would consider older people besides his bandmates 'friends' or treat them casually like one?

The thing about JK, he is a bit cliquey... in my opinion that is. I'm gonna get in trouble, am I not? Chilee.

I often talk about JK and exclusivity or his tendencies for exclusive behaviors....

Once my sister told me, when she first enrolled to uni, how everyone she'd met would ask of her age first before they even asked which country she was from and some of the girls on her floor wouldn't talk to her because they considered her older than them and as such kept their distance or something like that- out of respect for and she had to give those that fuxked with her permission to address her a casual way- personally, I thought they were just being ageists and racists as fuck but then a year into her stay she said she sort of got the hang of it. That it was a cultural thing- Stockholms is real people. Lmho.

Bitxh wouldn't know a friend from a foe. Can't relate. Foe till proven friends!

Gotta smart yourself out here- Hold on...

Is this why I don't have no friends???!!!!!

😥😥😥😥😥💀

Chilee. This is not good.

She explained, most of the people she later became friends with seemed to prefer making friends with foreigners because they felt the age barrier thingy didn't apply there and they had the freedom to express themselves freely with them regardless of their age.

People that are considered 'friends' in their culture are usually people around the same age while a hyung/dongsaeng friendship dynamic often invite brows and gazes- if you know what I mean. A hyung who allows a dongsaeng to be friends with them gives that dongsaeng status at best, at worst is opening the younger one to cultural criticism especially in how the older one is addressed.

So when Namjoon refers to Jimin as a friend it hits hard and reflects how deep and special their bond is as compared to say Vmin or NamHope who are close in age. Same age friendships would have to be qualified to denote how special their bond is. So for Vmin you'd see them going out of their way to talk about that they are soulmates, besties etc.

When JM talks about that all of his friends are hyungs, it a form of social proof. One cannot be friends with hyungs just like that. Jimin is cool and has social status.

If Jimin ever refers to JK as a friend he would be admitting he allows for a certain level of familiarity between them that is out of the ordinary just as his dynamic with Taemin and RM is.

I say all this so you can deep it when an older says to a young one, he is my friend.

RM says JM is his friend.

Mess with Minimoni, I'll stab you.

Taemin says JM is his closest 'friend' in the padding squad- or maybe I misunderstood what he meant but he keeps talking about Jimin and how close they are and how special their relationship is in the media and what not...

Deep it and deep it for JK too. Lmho.

He's lucky he is alive!

In my opinion, JK doesn't do too well around people who pull ranks over him. He tends to have his guard up around them and he tries to maintain formality with them.

It all depends on how comfortable JK is around certain group of friends Jimin has. Just as, it's not all friends of JK JM vibes with. Smirk.

Ok listen, I tried this sane shipper thingy yall recommended, it's not working for me-

If Taemin is not fucking with JK, JK is not gonna be fucking with him. So simple. I tried beating around the bush but chilee JK is not the problem Taemin is. There I said it.

In my opinion of course.

Whatever thing they had going on seemed personal and it could be as a result of anything.

It could be JK doesn't agree with his choices, lifestyle or influence on JM. It could also be Taemin does not approve of JK for JM. It could be he said something JK took offense at. Literally anything.

Whereas JK have reacted strongly to him in the past, I don't think I've seen Taemin have a similar strong reaction to JK. I could be wrong.

To me, he's always laughed those moments off as if JK were overreacting to something trivial- which, it's Jk, I won't put it past him but I find that behavior annoying and condescending as fuck coming from Taemin. No disrespect to Taemin.

For whatever reason, JM has always put his friendships on a pedestal talking about that his relationships is gold to him and what not and he prides himself in the fact he goes out of his way to nurture his relationships.... cool.

Love it for him.

But JK on the other hand has been striving to put up boundaries for JM in regards to the people he surrounds himself with and I don't think Taemin is an exception or was an exception.

JK has a lot of boundaries, I keep saying and they may not be the kind of boundaries you expect to see from him but he has them regardless.

He prefers for instance not to be so casual with people older than him for obvious reasons as he keeps saying, I'd assume it's a value he's tried to pass on to JM several times over the years- what is JM's view on that? Clearly JM has his own values.

JK has said he doesn't have friends and when he started making friends they were all within the same age group- the 97 liners.

JM on the other hand says all his friends are hyungs and he has one same age friend- V. Sidenote: Can't he just make Idol friends within the same age group besides V?

What goes on?!

Do y'all see the conflict of values there?

It's not always about Jealousy if you ask me.

Their values on certain things don't align.

I'm sorry. Lmho.

I mean I have said this several times now!

It's taken JK a hot minute to come to terms with, accept and get used to certain things especially in his relationship and personal life and it shows in the way he talked about 'dressing up' more often in his recent VLive, and how he seems to be acknowledging that he is a celebrity with power and status and he has to be conscious of that going forward.

Contrast that with a two years ago when he didn't even care about how he dressed to the airport and Jm said he had to use tactics to get him to get rid of his old bag or even care about how he dressed.

Significant improvement.

Jimin, as we've said claims he's come to the realization friends ain't shit- the emphasis is mine. Lol.

So I guess my answer to your question is, I don't think JK is jealous necessarily when it comes to Taemin. He reacts to him the same way he reacts to Namjoon or whosoever breaches his boundaries in regards to JM.

And that to me translates as, Taemin doesn't respect JK's boundaries for whatever reason. It could be because like I said, he doesn't think JK has a place in JM's space as his boyfriend, could be because he treats JK as JM's dongsaeng and not his equal partner.

It could be JK doesn't approve of Taemin's friendship with Jimin because he expects Jm to have boundaries especially with certain people around him- I mean I wonder how many of their friends know they are a thing. Can't be all of them💀

That too can create issues with the way they handle their boundaries with either of Jikook.

Or it can be because he is jealous too. We can't know for sure.

Signed,

GOLDY

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