#but even then. as long as i know the emotional connection is there and is solid i don’t need it to be acknowledged often/shown attention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rin-may-1103 · 7 hours

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The Wrong Robin Au (part five)

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Danny sat back with a wince, watching as Bruce and his butler (The man introduced himself as Alfred) collected themselves. Jason's book was now sitting on a shelf, displayed for everyone to see. Bruce's desk was moved back into place, and the chairs were repositioned. There wasn't any evidence of what had just occurred.

"would you like me to get you a rag, young sir?" Alfred asked, turning to glance at Danny with a raised brow.

Danny lifted his hand and gently touched his nose, hissing when it stung and throbbed. Pulling his hand back, Danny found his fingers covered in blood.

Well, that was going to be hard to explain later...

"yeah, thanks." Danny finally agreed, moving his hand back to hopefully keep more of his blood from staining his hoodie. His ectoplasm was just begging him to heal it, but he held back, watching as Bruce turned to face him.

The man was no longer crying his little emo furry heart out or blinded with rage. Instead, he was standing still with a calculative gleam in his eyes. Danny just knew the man was going to do a background check as soon as Danny left. (Or when Danny wasn't paying attention, he was Batman after all. Who knows what he was going to do?)

It's a good thing there was nothing that connected him with Phantom. Besides the drop in grades and convenient absences, but that can be excused by the trauma of his accident and all the ghost fights. Otherwise, Danny would be screwed.

No one besides Jazz and Wes has been able to figure it out, and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. He's retired now, or well, was retired. He might be getting back into the crime-fighting part again, but he was going to do everything in his power to keep from getting pulled back into ghost-fighting and dealing with the occult every day.

He could handle following Batman around at night and punching a few goons here and there, but the ghost fights? The world ending catastrophes? The annoying cult summoning? He didn't think he could handle it again. And sure, if there was no other option he would go out and protect the world. (It would be very shitty of him not to if he could do something when no one else could. He lived here too, you know.)

But that's not his job anymore. No, that's what the Justice League is for. (was for... He had forgiven them for not being there for him when it mattered. They were here now. So it was fine. No, it wasn't) They're the ones who are protecting Earth now. They're the ones who have to drop everything and help save the world. Not him. Not anymore.

Maybe he could think of this as a really shitty vacation? Then once he's sure Batman is stable and that Tim won't do something stupid, Danny could go back to Amity and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Maybe he could even go to college?

"Why are you here?" Bruce asked, his calculated eyes still boring into Danny's head. Danny, having gotten used to ghosts popping up and speaking to him at all hours of the day, didn't flinch as he glanced back up at Bruce.

"To keep you from killing yourself, seriously dude. Did you not hear when I told you earlier?" Danny spat, pointedly wiping the blood off his chin.

Bruce barely even moved, but Danny could tell he had winced. Sensing people's emotions was going to become one of the more useful powers he had, wasn't it?

...

How long was his nose going to bleed, again? Didn't broken noses stop bleeding after a few minutes?

His core flared in annoyance, finally making him remember a very important fact.

He was half dead. As in his body doesn't heal or change without the influence of his ectoplasm. This means he's going to keep bleeding until he either doesn't have any blood to bleed or he lets his ectoplasm heal it.

Great.

That's not going to make Bruce suspicious at all. Nope. Definitely not.

Focusing on his nose, Danny let his ectoplasm rush to the area and start healing it, but held it back before it could do more than stop the bleeding.

Alfred entered the room not even a second later, "here you go, young sir. Just hold it there for a minute while I prepare my med kit."

Danny grabbed the rag handed to him and pressed it to his nose, ignoring the sharp pain. He watched as Alfred placed his med kit on the side table and started digging through it. After a few minutes, Alfred leaned back and pulled on some gloves.

"let me have a look," he demanded, turning to kneel in front of Danny. Danny sighed, removed the rag, and leaned forward to let Alfred get a closer look. The man clicked his tongue, but gently grabbed his face and studied the injury.

Bruce shuffled awkwardly in the background, looking like a child waiting to get scolded. Good. He was a grown-ass man for crying out loud, he should get scolded for breaking Danny's nose.

"Alright, this will hurt," Alfred said, moving his hands to gently rest next to Danny's nose. Danny, having dealt with many broken noses before, looked away from the older man and stared Bruce dead in the eyes.

With sure but quick movements, Alfred straightened his nose with a loud crunch. Bruce's eyes narrowed as Danny bit his tongue, keeping any other sign of pain to himself.

"There," Alfred sighed, "it was a clean break, so you'll only have to keep some gause on it until you go to the doctor. Master Bruce?"

Bruce grunted, before finally looking over to his butler. "I'm fine, Alfred."

"good," Alfred nodded, "then I shall put on some tea. In the meantime, I recommend you two have a civil conversation."

Danny leaned back, taking the wet rag Alfred handed to him, and cleaned his face. Now that his nose looked normal, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to start healing it. He didn't plan on seeing Bruce again anytime soon, so any bruises or swelling he should have, won't matter.

Alfred finished placing his medical supplies away and held his hand out for the rags, once Danny gave them to him, the man swiftly left the room. bruce will probably want to test his blood later now that Danny thinks about it. Well, that's definitely something Batman would do, Danny thinks.

Oh well, it's not like his blood would reveal anything. It's literally just his human blood. Now if he was bleeding as Phantom? This would be a whole other problem.

"Who are you and how do you know who I am?" Bruce grunts, stepping closer to Danny in an attempt to be intimidating. And it would have been if Danny hadn't just watched the man breakdown ugly crying not even thirty minutes ago.

Rolling his eyes, Danny leaned back in his chair and huffed, "I told you this already. My name's Danny. I'm here to keep you from killing yourself. And it's pretty obvious who you are if you just think about it." Because it was obvious. Once Tim pointed it out to him, that is.

He wasn't about to just tell Batman that though, Tim didn't deserve to have the man breathing down his neck just for being smart enough to figure it out.

Before Bruce could respond, Danny's phone rang once, twice, then stopped. Glancing at the clock, Danny found it was only six. This meant, it was either Sam texting him to figure out where he was (which wasn't likely, since he usually disappeared in the mornings) or it was Tim.

Grabbing his phone, Danny unlocked it and was met with a message from Tim.

TIM: thanks for listening to me.

Before Danny could send a response, another text came through.

TIM: when did you want to meet up and discuss a plan? DANNY: tomorrow, after you get some sleep. TIM: I did! I took a nap! DANNY: not a long one. TIM: I'm not tired though! DANNY: Then pretend to sleep or something, I don't care. Could you just make sure you sleep before I text you tomorrow? please, kid? TIM: whatever. you're not even that much older than me, you know that right? Danny: sure kid.

"Who is that?" Bruce suddenly asks, making Danny glance up at him.

Shit, uh... "The kid I'm babysitting later."

You know what? That works. And it's technically true.

Bruce just hummed, allowing Danny to turn back to his phone.

TIM: I'm thirteen! DANNY: Yeah? Well, I'm seventeen, almost eighteen. Anyone under the age of fifteen is a literal baby. which makes you? that's right. a child. and what do children need? Sleep. They need sleep, Tim. TIM: I'm not a child! and if you've forgotten; I still have all the evidence proving that you're Robin. I'm petty enough to release it. DANNY: Go ahead. If it'll make you sleep at night.

Tim left him on read after not responding for a few minutes. Bruce had wandered over to his desk to work on something, probably Danny's background check.

Sighing, Danny sent a text to Sam letting her know he'd be busy for the rest of the morning and to let Tucker know. Once that was done, he shoved his phone into his pocket and stood up. Bruce glanced at him for a moment before going back to what he was going, leaving Danny to look around the office.

Pictures were hanging on the wall, books covering the shelves, and random objects covering everything else. Basically, Bruce's office was filled with all sorts of things. Things that could give Danny an idea of who Bruce was as a person. Something he was going to need to know if he planned to stick around and help him. which he was. because he'd promised Tim that he would.

Reaching out, Danny picked up one of the photos and examined it. It was Bruce, Alfred, and some boy Danny didn't recognize, though they looked eerily like him. They could even pass as his clone if you squinted.

"Hey, Bruce," Danny started, "Who's this?"

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zwedexx · 2 days

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Day 8 - Cloé Lacasse x Reader (18+)

Summary: You really miss Cloé. (You don't play for club or country together)

WC: 1,198

CW: Sex, Fingering, Cunnilingus. 18+

A/N: Idk if I like this or not if I'm being honest. Also I don't speak Portuguese so the Portuguese is google translated, please let me know if it's wrong.

The off-season had finally arrived, and the first thing you did was book a flight to London. Your heart pounded with anticipation as you sat on the plane, unable to contain your excitement about seeing Cloé. You played for different clubs and different national teams, but that only made your reunions even more special.

The plane touched down smoothly, the wheels kissing the tarmac with a gentle thud. After what felt like an eternity in the air, you could finally breathe a sigh of relief knowing you were moments away from seeing her again. The disembarking process seemed to drag on forever, but soon enough, you were weaving your way through the bustling terminal. Your eyes darted around, scanning the throngs of people, your heart pounding in anticipation.

As you rounded the corner into the arrivals hall, you spotted her immediately. Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze locked onto hers. For a moment, the noise and chaos of the airport faded into the background, and it was just the two of you in that bubble of connection. Her eyes sparkled with joy and relief, mirroring the emotions you felt. You quickened your pace, your steps growing more eager and hurried, until finally, you were close enough to feel her warmth.

In an instant, you dropped your bags and pulled her into a tight embrace, holding on as if you’d never let go.

"Oi linda, (Hey beautiful)" she greeted you with that sweet Canadian accent you adored.

"Oi meu amor, (Hey my love)" you whispered back, your lips brushing against her ear. "I've missed you so much."

She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze filled with the same longing and love that mirrored your own. "I missed you too."

The ride back to her apartment was filled with playful teasing and flirtatious touches. You couldn't keep your hands to yourself, your fingers lightly tracing intricate patterns on her thigh. Each touch sent shivers up her spine, causing her to bite her lip and shift in her seat, her skin tingling with anticipation.

As soon as you stepped into her apartment, the door barely closed behind you before you were on her. Your lips crashed together in a deep kiss. You pushed her against the wall, your hands roaming over her body, reacquainting yourself with every curve and contour.

"I need you, Cloé," you breathed against her lips, your voice heavy with want.

"Then take me," she whispered back, her words a mix of command and plea.

You didn't need to be told twice. Your hands found their way to her neck, your lips following soon after. You knew how much she loved it when you kissed and nibbled at her jawline, and you took full advantage of that knowledge. She tilted her head back, giving you more access as she let out a soft moan.

Her hands were just as eager, tugging at your hoodie and pulling it over your head. She barely broke the kiss as she moved to your shirt and sports bra, her fingers working skillfully to remove them.

Once your upper body was bare, she pulled back just enough to yank her own t-shirt off. The sight of her in just her shorts sent a fresh wave of desire through you. She took your hand, leading you to the bedroom with a look that made your knees weak.

As you reached the bed, she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. She gently pushed you onto the bed, her hands moving to the waistband of your pants. She pulled them down, leaving your lace underwear on, her eyes darkening with desire as she trailed kisses down your stomach.

You bucked your hips needily, craving more of her touch. She smirked, her lips brushing against your thigh. "Patience."

Her words were torture, but the anticipation made everything more intense. She moved your thong to the side, her tongue flicking out to tease your clit. Your hips bucked again, and this time she granted you some friction, pressing her knee against your core. The pressure was both a relief and a new form of teasing, driving you wild with need.

"Please, Cloé," you begged, your voice barely more than a whimper. "I need more."

She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and lust. "Anything for you, amor."

With that, she pulled off your underwear and slipped two fingers into you, pumping at a rhythm that had you arching off the bed. Your moans filled the room, growing louder as she picked up the pace. The pleasure built rapidly, and you felt the familiar coil in your stomach tightening until it finally snapped. You cried out her name as you came, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm.

Cloé kept her fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high. When you finally came down, you flipped yourselves over, straddling her, and leaned down to kiss her deeply.

"Your turn," you whispered against her lips, your hands moving to her chest. You kissed down her neck, leaving love bites along the way, marking her as yours. Her breathing grew heavier, her body arching into your touch.

You reached her shorts, pulling them down to reveal she wasn't wearing any underwear. You continued your trail of kisses until you reached her pussy. You didn't waste any time, your tongue diving into her, tasting her, driving her wild with pleasure.

Her moans spurred you on, each sound making you want to please her more. You flicked your tongue against her clit, your fingers joining in to heighten her pleasure. Cloé's moans grew louder, her body trembling beneath you as she got closer to her own climax.

When she finally came, her juices coated your mouth. You licked her clean, savouring the taste of her, before moving back up to kiss her deeply. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as you both came down from the high.

"Te amo, (Love you)" you whispered against her lips, your heart full of love.

"Je t'aime aussi, (I love you too)" she replied, her voice soft and tender.

You held each other for a long while. Cloé's fingers traced delicate, intricate patterns on your back, her touch soothing and gentle, like a calming lullaby for your skin. You responded by pressing soft, lingering kisses to her shoulder, her neck, and jaw.

"Let me take care of you," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm filled with love and tenderness. Her words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Cloé helped you clean up, her touches tender and attentive.

"I can't wait to do this again," you said with a smile, your fingers intertwining with hers as you laid back down in bed.

"Neither can I," Cloé replied, her eyes shining with love and a hint of longing.

You nodded, a serene smile playing on your lips as you rested your head on her chest. The steady, rhythmic beat of her heart echoed in your ear, a comforting sound that grounded you. The gentle rise and fall of her chest under your cheek was like a soothing rhythm.

#woso #canada #women's football #canwnt #women's soccer #woso x reader #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #woso fanfics #canwnt x reader #cloe lacasse x reader #cloé lacasse #cloé lacasse x reader #cloe lacasse

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delicatebarness · 1 day

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the manuscript | chapter three

Summary: And, what about older men?

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: early 20s)

Word Count: 1426

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A/N: Dick me dead, and bury me pregnant. Here is the link to the assignment mentioned in this chapter.- Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @mostlymarvelgirl | @mrsnikstan | @angelbabyyy99 | @kaithesimps-blog

The words of your assignment were still vivid in your mind as you hit ‘send’ on your email to Dr. Barnes. Laying your emotions out bare felt exhilarating, though terrifying. Something real, something raw had finally been tapped: The story of a young woman longing for the depth and experience of an older man, a mirror of your recent desires, and newfound feelings about unfulfilled connections with men your age.

Your thoughts had regularly returned to your meeting with Dr. Barnes, and the magnetic pull toward him– His intoxicating presence, full of authority and warmth that left you yearning. The way he leaned in, husky whispering, shivers shooting down your spine. You knew it was more than an academic connection, an unspoken attraction.

While packing your bag after Psychology class, your phone buzzed with a new email notification. Your heart pounded as you unlocked the preview, Dr. Barnes had responded to your work.

“Miss Spector,

Your submission is captivating and shows significant growth. The raw honesty and ability to show vulnerability in your writing are truly commendable. I want to discuss your work further and help you delve further into these themes. Meet me in my office tomorrow at 3 PM.

I’m looking forward to our conversation,

Dr. Barnes.”

The prospect of another intimate encounter with Dr. Barnes caused a thrill of excitement and anxiety to course through you. His words penetrated your defenses, in both person and writing, reaching down to your core. Rereading the email, you could almost hear his deep, resonant voice, laced with praise.

Zipping up your bag, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Slowly, you turned to become face-to-face with Wanda and MJ, two of your closest friends. They were both wearing mischievous smiles, curiosity twinkling in their eyes.

“Hey, what’s got you grinning like The Cheshire Cat,” MJ teased, playfully nudging you.

Wanda’s eyebrows raised suggestively as she joined in on the interrogation. “Yeah, spill, Spector! Pete up to his old tricks again?”

Trying to find the right words, you chuckled nervously. “Oh, you two,” you jokingly rolled your eyes at them. “Nothing scandalous, just a text, I promise.”

Your friends weren’t so easily convinced. Exchanging knowing glances as MJ leaned in closer, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, we’ve known each other for years. You can’t fool us that easy…”

Struggling to come up with an explanation, a blush crept up your cheeks. You tried to laugh off their teasing just as a familiar voice interrupted from behind.

“Everything alright here, ladies?” Professor Wilson’s voice boomed across the empty lecture hall. Your heart skipped a beat, feeling the embarrassment heat your cheeks. You wondered how much of the conversation he had overheard.

Exchanging surprised glances, Wanda and Mj quickly composed themselves. Their once playful expressions shifted to innocent ones.

“Oh… just chatting about our plans for the evening, Professor,” Wanda replied with a smile and casual tone.

He nodded, leaving his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. As he returned to his desk, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on.

Regaining your composure, you exchanged a relieved glance at Wanda and MJ, silently agreeing to table the conversation. Walking out of the hall, the weight of Dr. Barnes’ email hung heavy in your mind. Something had shifted, not only were you feeling the anticipation of the upcoming meeting with him, but you realized that your feelings for him ran deeper than you had allowed yourself to admit.

Lost in your trace, you rounded a corner colliding with a solid figure. You stumbled back, slightly startled, however you felt a strong hand steadying you. Your heart began to race as you looked up, meeting the gaze of none other than Dr. Barnes himself.

“Ah, Miss Spector,” he greeted, a smile beginning to play on his lips. His touch lingered against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a subtle yet undeniable spark.

“Dr. Barnes…” you trailed, trying to steady your racing heart. You heard the sniggering of Wanda and MJ as they watched in surprise and amusement.

“My apologies,” Dr. Barnes said, his gaze dropping to your lips for a moment before returning to meet yours. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much.”

Shaking your head, you felt a flush creep up to your cheeks. “No, not at all. It’s… I, un, I’m looking forward to our discussion tomorrow.”

Your friends shared another glance at each other, a smirk tugging at their lips. They sensed your embarrassment, giggling and teasing you for being clumsy and oblivious. You shot them a quick warning look.

Dr. Barnes observed the interaction between you and your friends, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied, his voice smooth. “I have no donut it will be a… fruitful conversation.” His voice was laced with a subtle undertone of invitation, a promise of something more lingering.

You nodded, feeling a rush of heat spreading through you at his proximity. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With one last glance into his piercing blue eyes, you excused yourself and followed your friends out of the building.

As you walked away, Wanda and MJ’s laughter filled the air, you couldn’t resist another glance back inside the building. Standing in the same spot, was Dr. Barnes, his gaze fixed on you intensely.

Time stood still as you locked eyes, a silent exchange passing between you. You had never experienced a connection like this before.

You tore your gaze away at the sound of your name being called, joining your friends. But, Dr. Barnes’ stayed with you.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying you causing your pulse to quicken. “I’ve read your submission. It’s compelling and honest. You’ve done well, tapping into your fears… and desires.”

Your palms warmed under his praise, and the thudding of your heartbeat drummed in your ears. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I tried to be as truthful as possible.”

Nodding in agreement, he rested his chin against his fist. “That’s evident. Your exploration of the longing for an older man, their depth and experience was particularly poignant.” He paused, noticing you fidget with your fingers under his intense gaze. “Tell me, do you believe younger men are truly incapable of providing the satisfaction you seek?”

The question cut close to your personal life causing you to hesitate while searching for the right words. “I think… it’s not their age, but… their lack of understanding. They don’t seem to see beyond the physical.”

“And, what about older men?” he pressed, shifting in his seat, leaning forward against his desk. “Do you think they inherently possess the ability to satisfy a woman on a deeper level?”

“I think they have more life experience,” you replied carefully. “They tend to have more patience, more attuned to a woman’s needs.”

The room seemed to close in around you as his eyes bore into yours. “Experience does bring a certain depth,” he murmured, his voice becoming lower, more intimate. “But, regardless of age, emotional connection and mutual understanding are paramount.”

You nodded. “I agree. It’s about finding someone who truly sees and understands you.”

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile played on his lips, sending a heat to your core. His gaze pierced through layers of your defenses, you felt both exposed and exhilarated. “And how about you, Miss Spector? Do you feel seen?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the pressure building up inside you making it hard to form words. “I… I think I’m beginning to.”

His smile deepened, eyes gleaming with something darker. “Good,” he said, in a whisper. “It’s a rare and precious thing, true understanding… true connection. Keep exploring them, Miss Spector.”

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes, I will,” you replied, your voice betraying you.

His eyes never left yours as he leaned back in his chair. The added sense of space allowed you to breathe, yet the electrifying connection between you was maintained.

“I look forward to seeing where your explorations take you,” he continued, encouraging with a hint of command. “This is just the beginning, our journey together is only starting, and I’m here to guide you through it.”

His eyes followed your every move as you stood to leave. “Until next time,” he said, glancing back at him, a hint of a smile played on his lips.

“Until next time,” you echoed as you stepped out of his office and into the library.

---

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#the manuscript series #professor!bucky x student!reader #professor!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #college au #bucky barnes x spector!reader #spector!reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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greens-spilled-tea · 4 hours

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My non-plural and non-CDD partner has recently started doing an interesting bit of introspective work on themselves which involves what they call "Department Reporting". They've started conceptualizing bits of themselves as belonging to specific departments: Cognition (related to thinking and logic), Somatics (related to the body), Emotions (related to feelings), Memory Recall (related to short and long-term memory), and Abstraction/Creativity/Synthesis (related to creative output and abstract thought). They will do a nightly check-in with each of these aspects of themselves, seeing if any of these particular departments are in any need of help or support and making plans on how to address any needs each department has for the next day.

And this has been absolutely amazing for them. They've struggled with various forms of dissociation for a while now which has made addressing their needs difficult. Talking to me more has helped them realize that though they do experience themselves as a unified whole singular identity, it may be helpful to break down specific aspects of themselves into categorized parts in order to gain a better understanding of themselves. And the results have been fantastic. They're so much more grounded, they're better able to communicate what they want and need from me, and they're able to just generally take better care of themselves.

I was genuinely worried that having them separate out these aspects of themselves into specific groups may be harmful for them. After all, I have DID and I know exactly how maladaptive separating these parts of myself out too much can hurt me. And so I started asking them questions. Are they feeling disconnected or dissociated from the other parts of themselves? Do they sense any amount of "becoming plural" throughout all this?

And... the answer has been, no, not at all. In fact, they feel even more integrated than before as they can now feel connected to more of themselves compared to before. Their memory has improved, their energy levels have improved, their emotional regulation has gotten so much better. And I think it's just absolutely wonderful and fascinating that conceptualizing themselves as having parts/departments has actually ended up with them feeling even more like a unified whole than before.

It's definitely really interesting comparing our experiences, and seeing how my final fusion journey both mirrors and also differs from how my singlet partner experiences their self and identity. I think, in the end, having DID and/or being plural is ultimately not so different from what being a singlet is like, and maybe it'll be beneficial to sometimes find those similarities to help us understand and relate to each other more.

#syscourse #plurality #pluralgang #did #dissociative identity disorder #cdd #osddid #did osdd #by gray #by reimei #syscussion

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 2 days

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HAPPY PRIDE MONTH LET'S GOOOO LESBIANSSS REQUESTS ARE OPEN. please please please I beg of you to write makima. I feel like you'd do her justice. Can I please request makima gently nonconning you but convincing/manipulating you into thinking it's for *your* benefit and enjoyment.

At her core, Makima longs for connection. And in her own way she genuinely loves the people she controls, even if her concept of love is horrific and something only a Devil could understand. So while she views Darling as another pet, she loves her as much as she loves her many dogs.

She would invite Darling to have a drink with her at a local cafe she likes. It's easy enough to compel Darling to come back to her apartment with her power with a simple request spoken with a smile. "Come home with me." Darling finds herself in a daze and suddenly, she's in Makima's apartment surrounded by a cuddly pack of dogs licking and nuzzling her. Makima's lap is so comforting. "I'll have your things moved in tomorrow. You won't need much, will you?" She strokes Darling's hair and gently relinquishes some of her hold over Darling, turning that comfort from being here into a sense of unease and dread and awareness. "I won't make you a dog--not completely. The Chainsaw Devil is still out there, and I'll wake him up someday. But...maybe a human could understand me too, in ways a Devil can't. Maybe you'll know parts of me better than I know myself."

Humans have such an overwhelming sense of sympathy, of emotion in general. As easy as it is to take Darling's will away completely, Makima wants something more: something different than a pet, but not an equal. That's what Darling will be to her.

And she can think of a few ways to separate her Darling from her pets. After all, there's a special way that humans become intertwined with each other emotionally and physically. So, she wants to do this special act only with her Darling.

She doesn't outright command Darling the way she does her other thralls. It's always a suggestion, and if there's any resistance, she pushes it further until Darling submits. Sex is an interesting new experience for her. It's the closest she's felt to vulnerability for just a few moments, and it feels strangely...nice. This must be what her subordinates and her pets feel all the time. No wonder they crave submission.

Soon it becomes a nightly routine for her: come home from work, kiss Darling, cook a meal together, feed the dogs, and invite Darling to bed. Sometimes she has Darling ride her thigh, but often she prefers to explore Darling's cunt herself with her hands and tongue. Her current humanlike form is perfectly suited to writhe against Darling, rubbing sexes until the two of them reach a temporary bit of bliss. She never closes her eyes, even when she cums--her hypnotic irises are always fixed on Darling's every reaction, staring into her special little human's soul laid bare.

She always loves to stroke and caress her Darling afterwards, embracing her and comforting her as Darling shivers and slowly curls up to find comfort in Makima's arms and breast. Humans always seem to do this to her, to see her as this figure they crave comfort and approval from. It's only natural, given her dominion. All humans, no matter what, crave control.

Soon even without using her power, Darling starts to believe Makima's whispers and murmurs as she lays them down onto the bed. "See? You're special, but you still need this just like everyone else. You need me, here, and you, underneath. You're not quite a pet, but...not like the Chainsaw Devil. Not an equal...Not yet. Maybe once I find him, I'll be able to find a way to make you both understand. A human and Devil soulmate...romantic, don't you think?

#.myshit #.csm #.makima #yandere csm #yandere makima #yandere wlw #fem darling #tw: dubcon #wlw yandere

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brujitaadinbo · 2 days

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I'm back again with my crazy posts about DINBO parallelism and other iconic couples from cinema or any material. I have had a lot of things to do but I have taken the time to watch Batman content, because I love it, it is one of many favorite characters I have. Watching one of the cartoons of this character I saw a beautiful reference to Catwoman---Batman, in that connection that they have always had.

They are both wounded people, trying to move forward, healing on their own and then healing together, but the process is long and good, there is still a lot of development left (plus they are going to want to exploit Batman every time they can with more movies or series, ect)

Selina and Bruce are a magnetic couple and they complement each other, they don't need to be cheesy or be together all the time, because in their intimate moments, they show each other everything. The hero in the making and the antihero who seeks redemption.

Very much in the style of Din djarin and Bo katan; These two are more possessive of their responsibilities and more closed BUT they recognize well when they feel attracted, when they feel good working together and taking care of each other, sharing moments, living in the moment without labels.

It's something I love; in many comics and series such as Batman Rush Selina and Bruce understand each other very well, so much so that Catwoman and Batman also coincide and suddenly even their hidden personalities come to light. So they work as a team, their romantic dates destroy criminals and save the city, kicking ass.

It reminds me a lot of Din and Bo in their adventures with Grogu, solving problems together, traveling, having adventures, destroying imperials.

I love that Batman in his own way is protective of Catwoman but I feel like he can improve that, he is a very dense character and still has things to fix, just like Selina.

Something like Din; He doesn't talk much but he shows with actions that there are people he cares about and will protect them at all costs, just like Bo.

Din and Batman have as much in common, as do Bo and Selina.

And hey, I don't deny that they have a long way to go to become a healthier couple, but hey, with so much that they've been through, who would be completely fine?

Who is not sick in some way in their emotions???

For the same reason, I relate them to DINBO because both couples fight to be better, more balanced, even if they separate for a while or are together at another time.

I love that both Din and Bruce, although they don't talk much or don't express themselves well at all, when they do, they are very tender and know how to melt the heart of the person they are talking to with their words. .

Just like when they talk to Selina or Bo and they almost always leave them speechless, they don't know how to react. As much as to flatter them or to apologize to them and even an I love you like Batman says in the comics to Selina or a "I'll serve you" to Bo Katan.

And now to close this post; I love how Batman and Catwoman have that very particular and acid humor, their own silly jokes and she accepts them. Like when she gets pregnant, they don't know it yet and he offers her a "Bati bucket" for nausea or when they are already checking Selina and she tells him "it's cancer" he with a soft smile tells her "it's not." and she takes it with her typical humor LOL

It reminds me a lot of Din and Bo's humor, their own jokes "the element of surprise" and those knowing laughs. Or that Bo is ironic about the pog soup thing.

That Din tells her "that's what happens for stealing imperial ships" and she responds that way. Very consistent with their personalities.

I love it and I will continue sending DINBO, getting information and parallels as long as I can. And batman and catwoman are my roman empire.

this is the way.

#the mandalorian #dinbo #star wars #bo katan x din #din djarin #bo katan kryze #bokadin #this is the way #din x bo #clandetres #lucasfilm #batman #batman x catwoman #batcat #bruce wayne #selina kyle #dc comics #bruce x selina

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tossawary · 1 day

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You know, I didn't dislike the Kaguya battle as much as I thought that I might. I'd probably have different, more interesting feelings on this if I'd been reading "Naruto" properly instead of skipping over a bunch of stuff in the middle, but I'd already been spoiled on her as a villain and expected her appearance. And also the story has dropped so many threads and fumbled the landing of so many character arcs by this point that the vibes were kind of like, "Sure, this might as well happen next."

My favorite parts of that excruciatingly long final battle were anytime the fight involved ugly, complicated personal histories between characters. So, I liked "Hashirama versus Madara" and "Tobirama versus Madara". (I initially went looking for the "Senju versus Uchiha" flashback chapters (622ish; 619-ish is where Orochimaru resurrects the previous Hokages) and kept on reading from there out of curiosity.) And I also really liked the "Kakashi versus Obito" moments and "Minato (+ Naruto + Tobirama) versus Obito".

Thinking about it now, it seems really weird that there wasn't a bigger emotional confrontation between Sasuke and Madara, or else one between Sasuke and Obito. Sasuke seemed kind of checked out for most of the battle until it was time to him to fight Naruto after Kaguya was defeated. I guess he's just done with most of this shit after Itachi died. But Madara and Obito are partially responsible for a lot of the tragedy in Sasuke's life? I guess yelling at the villains for being shitty people and shitty family is already Naruto's job...

There's a lot about Kaguya that I actually think is kind of cool. She's pretty scary. I think the lore is pretty neat, actually. And even though she has basically zero personal connection to any of our heroes (Sasunaru being reincarnations of her descendants do not count as "personal" connections in my eyes), the Kaguya battle FINALLY cut the cast down to a far more reasonable number of people so that the story stopped being split in half-a-dozen different directions.

It's just Team 7 plus Obito! We're down to like 6-8 characters (depending on whether or not you count Zetsu, and also the Sage of the Six Paths, I guess). Nicely focused! I liked seeing Team 7 reunited and struggling forward together to save the world all on their own. I thought that this narrowed focus helped the pacing a lot, especially because the fight with her specifically didn't actually drag on for very long, and so I found it surprisingly easy to get through her part of the super long final battle compared to some of the earlier waffling back and forth between Madara and Obito and Zetsu.

#tossawary naruto #spoilers #otsutsuki kaguya

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ninibeingdelulu · 1 day

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Tenderness ✧

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Plot: At a bar, Aerith finally tell you how Cloud’s eyes soften every time he looks at you.

A/N: I love to write fluff abt my bf. Enjoy xx. Reminder: English isn’t my first language.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

It's a quiet evening at the AVALANCHE hideout, the group gathered in the dimly lit bar, their weary bodies finally finding some respite after a grueling day of battles and reconnaissance.

You sits off to the side, nursing a drink and observing your companions with a pensive gaze.

Suddenly, Aerith appears at your side, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Can I join you?" she asks, her voice soft and melodic.

You nods, gesturing to the empty seat beside you.

"Of course," you replies, your own expression tinged with a hint of curiosity.

As Aerith settles in, her eyes drift across the room, landing on the solitary figure of Cloud Strife, who stands apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the far wall.

"Have you noticed how Cloud looks at you?" Aerith asks, her tone conspiratorial.

You blinks, your brow furrowing in confusion.

"What do you mean?" You asks, following Aerith's gaze to the blond-haired SOLDIER.

Aerith chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with a knowing gleam.

"Oh, my dear," she murmurs, "you really haven't seen the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you, have you?"

You feels a sudden flutter in your chest, your heart rate quickening as you processes Aerith's words.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," you stammers, the gaze darting back to Cloud's distant form.

Aerith reaches out, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Trust me, he cares for you more than he lets on," she says, her voice laced with a hint of wistfulness.

"He may act cold and distant with the rest of us, but with you, he's different. More open, more... attentive."

Your eyes widen, your mind racing as you recalls the subtle shifts in Cloud's demeanor whenever you two interacted.

The way his shoulders would relax, the faint trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips - you'd always chalked it up to your imagination, never daring to believe that the stoic SOLDIER could harbor such tender feelings.

"I... I had no idea," you murmurs, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aerith nods, her expression softening.

"He's a complex man, our Cloud," she says, her gaze drifting back to the blond-haired warrior.

"But I think, deep down, he's searching for a connection, a sense of belonging that he's been denied for so long."

Your heart swells with a mixture of emotions - a flicker of hope, a touch of trepidation, and a deep, overwhelming desire to reach out and bridge the chasm that seems to separate Cloud from the rest of the world.

As if sensing your gaze, Cloud's eyes suddenly meet yours, and you’re struck by the raw vulnerability you sees there, a fleeting glimpse of the man beneath the stoic facade.

In that moment, you knows - there is something between you two, a bond that transcends the boundaries of your group, a connection that both terrifies and enthralls you.

You feel a sudden warmth rise to your cheeks as Aerith's words sink in. Cloud, the stoic and aloof SOLDIER, harboring tender feelings for you? It’s almost too much to fathom.

Instinctively, your gaze drift back to Cloud, and your breath get caught in your throat as your eyes meet across the dimly lit bar.

There, in the depths of his piercing blue irises, you glimpse a vulnerability you had never seen before - a raw, almost desperate longing that send a shiver down your spine.

Flustered, you quickly avert your eyes, turning her attention back to Aerith.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammers, your voice betraying your uncertainty.

"Cloud is just... Cloud. He's always been distant, even with me."

Aerith look at you with a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

"Oh, y/n," she say, her voice soft and soothing.

"You may think you know Cloud, but I've seen the way he looks at you. There's a softness in his gaze, a warmth that he reserves only for you."

You shake your head, your brow furrowed in a mix of disbelief and frustration.

"No, you must be mistaken," you insist, your fingers drumming nervously against the worn wooden table.

"Cloud is... well, he's Cloud. He's not the type to harbor any kind of... feelings."

Aerith chuckle, her hand giving yours another gentle squeeze.

"Believe me, I know what I'm talking about," she say, her expression growing more serious .

"Cloud may seem like an impenetrable fortress, but even the strongest walls can crumble in the face of true connection."

You feel a flutter of hope and trepidation in your chest, your gaze once again draw to Cloud's distant form.

Could it be true? Could the man you had come to admire and respect, the one who had always seemed so untouchable, truly harbor such tender feelings for you ?

The thought both thrill and terrifie you, and you find yourself at a loss for words, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions she had never before experienced.

#cloud strife x you #cloud x you #cloud strife angst #cloud strife fluff #cloud strife x reader #cloud x reader #cloud headcanons #cloud strife #cloud x y/n #ff7 #ff7 cloud #ff7 remake #ff7 rebirth #final fantasy sephiroth #final fantasy 7 rebirth #cloud ffvii #fluff

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webanglikethat · 3 days

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How can he be guilty as sin? (A Wyatt one shot)

Published: 08/06/24 Words: 1,767 Summary: Wyatt, a member of the royal guard, struggles with forbidden feelings for Princess Ellaire, knowing that his duty demands unwavering loyalty, not love. as he battles his heart's desires, he begins questioning whether his deep devotion is a sin or the truest expression of his allegiance. Ao3: read here and please leave a comment!! Note: I haven’t finished HoT yet so don’t spoil anything !! and this is for my best friend Agrima 💙

Wyatt knew it was wrong. he had always known that harboring feelings towards the princess, the future Queen of his homeland, was a mistrial in the temple of his feelings. he shouldn’t be feeling this way because no other emotion other than interminable loyalty should flow through the veins connected to his heart. or at least that’s what he kept repeating himself as she walked past him, gifting him one of those secret smiles of hers that she kept just for him, like an oath only they knew the words to. he knew, deep down, that harboring such feelings for the princess was not only forbidden but also fundamentally wrong. a a member of the royal guard, his allegiance was first and foremost to the crown, to serve and protect without question or hesitation. anything beyond that — especially feelings of affection or longing — was a transgression and transaction he could ill afford.

and yet, each time her eyes met his, Wyatt felt a pull stronger than his sense of duty, tempting him to forget his role and forget it all, as long as he didn’t forget her. her smile, delicate and sweet, stirred something deep within him, a longing he had no right to feel, a longing that didn’t belong to him, a longing he couldn’t spare. after all, he was but a mere queensguard and he had been one since the age of two, when he was elected for this specific role, thanks not only to his skills but in part to the legacy his father was building. but that didn’t mean Wyatt had the right to feel what he felt, for he was a mere civilian, and she the Queen to be. how could he even dare to think of her like that? how could he dare envision his lips tracing doodles on her body, immortalizing it as a piece of art? sometimes he could swear he felt her warm hand squeezing his, and differentiating wishful thinking from reality had become his newest enemy, one he couldn’t escape or reach. how cruel fate was, to play such games with his mind, holding his heart hostage, squeezing it until it confessed the emotion’s name his lips didn’t dare to utter.

so he clenched his fists, trying to force the inappropriate emotions back into the recesses of his mind where they belonged, like a dirty secret he couldn’t risk being brought to life. for some people, the skeleton in their closet was an actual corpse, but to him, it was his own traitorous heart. so loyalty, he reminded himself. honor. duty. a legacy to uphold. he repeated these four terms in his mind until they all swirled into one, but being warned by God didn’t stop Eve from biting the apple and therefore, forcing himself to not feel anything didn’t stop the emotions from threatening to overflow. not even the shackles of fate can hold back a lover’s desire.

as she drifted further down the corridor, her laughter ringing softly in his ears, a melody he couldn’t stop replaying in the secrecy of his room at night, Wyatt couldn't help but wonder if she sensed his turmoil. did she know the effect she had on him? did she feel the same forbidden spark? did she feel the same pull, forcing her to linger by his door sometimes, just to hear his breath and know he was alright? did she too keep these longings locked inside? was he too more than just a friend to him? the questions gnawed at him, the way a monster would play with his victim to elongate the pain, threatening to unravel the tight control he prided himself on. he shouldn’t think of this, for he didn’t know what was worse — the not knowing, or the knowing — in a scenario where her answer was a refusal. and perhaps that would’ve been better, he told himself. a clear no, a distinct refusal and maybe he could turn off his heart, an organ he didn’t - couldn’t - claim as his own anymore. or perhaps he should stay in his own bubble, drown in memories where holograms of her were the only actress starring unendingly every moment of his existence. perhaps having her there, a place no one else could get into, was more than he should already be grateful for.

it was especially in the quiet hours of the night, as the world around him slipped into slumber and he eluded the sleep fairy that his thoughts invariably turn to Ellaire. night seemed to always unfailingly be the time his mind's inner thoughts gravitated to her. he wouldn't be surprised if, in the undoing of the grand tapestry of his existence, all else faded but her memory. it was in those moments, bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight, that he would find himself consumed by a most exquisite and excruciating tenderness for her. he had known her for his whole life, had begun caring for her before he could even learn how to draw a sword since he was raised to protect and care for her, so truly, who could condemn him for his affection love? she had been the foundation of his existence, and he’s so anything to keep hers intact.

to him, she was akin to the moon for she was the only glow in his longest nights, a light he could always count on to guide him home. she was a star, one of those important ones that you never get tired of contemplating — the one you run to look for as soon as the sun goes down and a golden light begins to twinkle behind the clouds. she held that same light that guides lost fools in a storm’s disaster, which makes you fall in love with the night and makes you plead to remove your own eyes, so you could bask in it eternally. at last, Wyatt understood why kingdoms would lose their minds over love, why rulers would forsake their crowns for just one kiss from the woman they adored.

and he .. well, what was Wyatt? there were so many small stars in this vastness called universe so how could he expect to be important to her? he was just one doodle among many more, another black shade in this sky, a planet out of human sight. even if he dared to imagine himself next to her, he knew it could never be the way he painted it in his mind. there would be no great dark ink depicting their story, no grandiose declaration of devotion etched into the annals of history, and he would remain a footnote in the story of her existence, a forgotten annotation in the manuscript of her grandeur. but as long as she was the name on its cover, he didn’t mind being nothing more than a spectator. for as long as she shone brightly, he could drown in the darkest shadows and he’d laugh with the utmost joy.

but even as he belittled himself, Wyatt knew that his loyalty and devotion were unmatched. he knew that wherever Ellaire went, he would follow. should she ask him to close his eyes and lead her to inferno itself, he wouldn’t deny her request. together, they would face the unknown, and he would protect her, as he had always sworn to do. for Wyatt, the thought of denying her anything, of refusing her even the most perilous of requests, was inconceivable. he would risk his life, if it meant she got to exist in his stead. he’d give her his heart if she’d only ask him and he’d unstitch every vein to give her the prettiest part, deign of a Queen. he’d bleed himself dry to keep her warm with the tepidity of his vital claret if she was cold. he would’ve done anything for her — unraveling his sanity to preserve hers and giving up all knew for her, for who was he, if she wasn’t there? he’d grown up knowing her, and so he would die.

in her, he found his purpose to exist. she was the embodiment of everything he held dear, the light that illuminated his darkest corners. and though he may never be more than a shadow in her radiance, he would stand by her side, hanging onto every ray of light she shone, akin to a drunken man holding onto the lips of their lover knowing their doom. in her luminescence, he discovered a solace that outweighed anything he had ever seen or felt before, willing him to face any fate as long as he could remain even as a fading phantom in her orbit.

as the echoes of her laughter faded into the distance, Wyatt found himself enveloped in the stillness of the night, his thoughts consumed by the woman who held his heart in her hands. and maybe, giving up something so vital was freedom in itself. and for a moment, Wyatt dared to entertain the possibility that his love for Ellaire was not a sin to be condemned but a sacred calling to be embraced. what if, he thought to himself, the way he felt was not a betrayal of his allegiance but the truest expression of his devotion? what if the way he held her was the holiest subject of his faith? what if the words slipping from her lips were a religion he had woven into his soul? what if his lingering touch, so wrong yet so right, was the prayer he whispered in the quiet of his heart? so truly, how could he be guilty as sin, when love is the first virtue a person learns? was it not love that led Eve to take that fateful bite, trusting in the bond she shared with Adam? and if love was the foundation upon which humanity was built, how could he be faulted for following its lead? love, the most primal and pure of all virtues, surely could not be a sin. if Eve’s love for Adam sparked the beginning of life, then how could he be condemned for allowing love to guide his actions?

so he wondered, how could his love be a sin, when it was the foundation of his existence, of humanity’s history ? so may them condemn him all they want, he thought to himself, for he know that love was the longest-standing temple of humanity, the only divinity to be revered. and he’d die fighting for his religion, his love, his Ellaire.

love, above all, was the truest form of sanctity, and he’d rather die a sinner for her, than a nonbeliever.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳

taglist: @annn-starrr, @pawaki17luna, @goddessofwonderland 💙

#JB is writing #heart of trespia #rc hot #romance club #romance club fanfic #rc fanfic #rc ff #rc fanfiction #romance club game #romance club ff #rc wyatt #rc ellaire #rc heart of trespia #romance club heart of trespia #Spotify

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sweetpapercroissant · 1 year

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i just want to emphasise how crazy it is that samdean don’t need or even really want (at times) any external relationship outside of each other. developing different kinds of human relationships with different people is a huge part of growing as a person. and they just-don’t. even when they have the choice and chance to do so-they just choose not to. they really fulfill each other’s every need and that is so. it’s so sick how insular they are and even more so, in some ways, how content they are in that.

#zachariah got it right #psychotically irrationally erotically codependent #i do think that dean likes having friends #he’s social in that he knows how to read and play people #and he thrives on that #he is also #hmm idk how to word it properly #but he forms connections very easily because he’s good at understanding emotions #even if he doesn’t always be considerate of them #i think fandom doesn’t give him enough credit for his awareness #whether it’s about emotions or customs (i can’t remember the proper word rn so this will have to do)#they always mistake his lack of acknowledging them (outwardly) as ignorance #or worse simply forget (willfully?) when he does #anyway this got long #my original point was that sam doesn’t really need to have a lot of connections to be comfortable/content #not in the later seasons at least #earlier seasons he wanted connections specifically outside of his family because he was suffocating (they all were tbh)#and ofc he wanted to be understood #but like i said i don’t think he needs other humans around the way dean does #supernatural #sam and dean #samdean #.txt

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un-pearable · 1 year

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krypton is a gaping hole in kal-el.

clark kent is, according to his driver’s license and his about me blurb that prints increasingly smaller on his corner of the new dailyplanet.com, a classic sweetheart from western kansas with a bachelors in journalism and a one bedroom half bath three streets and a bus ride away from the daily planet in the heart of downtown metropolis. clark kent is celebrating his recent win - getting the printer to work without the hinge suffering a sheer fracture - with an extra sugar packet in his second cup of joe for the day and humoring his next desk neighbor’s heckling over it.

kal-el — superman — is the man receiving the mayor’s accolades with the world and the laser focused glare of the police chief weighing on his shoulders. according to, kal-el is,

clark kent is the well-meaning dork who never quite grew into his size and was bullied in high school, when asked he recounts being too sickly to join the football team and too unpopular to get over it. clark kent arrives early and works late to work off his four and a half years of student loan debt. clark kent has childhood friends, and an ex-girlfriend, and a budding romance with the abrasive, dyslexic, isn’t-she-just-lovely lois lane at the desk next to him who’s recently recruited him as her partner-in-foiling-crime.

superman — kal-el — has a baby blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a hunk of metal in a barn a couple thousand miles away, and a name with syllables even his mother can’t pronounce. a logo on his chest that he does not know and a dedication to love and truth and saving that is deeply, entirely human.

krypton is an aching absence in kal-el. krypton is the word he carries in his mind for when he fumbles his keys and almost breaks the doorknob, for when he hunches and smears his glasses. krypton is the lack of an explanation. krypton is, simply put, not. krypton is to kal-el not what kansas is to clark kent. kansas excuses the overfriendliness and the impromptu vacation days “to care for his ailing mother” and the handiness with a tractor. krypton is the torch they carry alongside their pitchforks when the bludgeoning begins. krypton is the response when the tragedy is unpreventable, when the wariness pitches into fear.

krypton is the world he holds in his heart when he can’t help but wonder. krypton is the sword his enemies hold over his head — a condemnation, a promise, a hope — and lord over him. the world is trapped in memories not his own, preserved in the perverted motives of those who would trade lives for tradition.

krypton is, later, eventually, a bridge. kal-el, an ambassador from a culture he’s borrowed to the one he was fated. clark kent, a haven. krypton is a girl in a spaceship of her own, fleeing from a krypton that was.

#text✨#capes cowls and crimefighting #superman #dc comics #technically fic????? i guess #fic✨#sorry was pissed off about man of steel and pondering the take on krypton as this thing he *knows* he should know about #this aching hole in his knowledge about himself #that he’s been using for so long as a crutch to support the superman identity that it hardly even has meaning anymore #bc even HE didn’t know what it meant #and then a take on zod as lording this over him. the only connection to a living kryptonian culture being . that #and then finally kara as his gateway to actually learning it #no actual canon here just me being 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥and emotional #fuck the fortress of solitude i know jack shit about it . maybe it’s here maybe it’s not. whatevs #my superfam main is kon sorry folks i just had major sad clark moments for a bit #also i’m an anthro student it’s practically in the job description to be #angsty and sad about culture and world building #wrote this at 4am while Mad. humor me.

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fordanoia · 1 year

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I was thinking about stuff again and looking into the transcript and this exchange really does just pull some unspoken weight in it

Stan: How did things get so messed up between us? Ford: We used to be like Dipper and Mabel. The world's about to end and they still work together. How do they do it? Stan: Easy. They're kids. They don't know any better.

Of course we know Stan and Ford’s whole deal, but the whole sentiment here really just pulls a tragic note

There’s this unspoken acknowledgement that they both want to have a relationship, but (at this point) it’s treated as something that just... can’t happen

There’s a sentiment a lot of times that if you really love someone and they love you - that things turn out fine. Or at least, on the surface you’d think ‘well why would we ever stop being close?’ because logically, it doesn’t make sense

But in practice - it happens. It’s a falling out where you still both love each other, but now there’s this obstacle

really love the show for having this moment between them btw

And here in the show - Stan and Ford both see so much of how they used to be in Dipper and Mabel

Even here though where Ford directly draws that parallel though - he’s not connecting how they’re able to not squabble when everything’s going wrong - how they pull together instead of apart when the stakes turn high

and Stan saying it’s because they don’t know any better-

It just really paints a picture of how behind the pair of them are to Dipper and Mabel - especially after the Mabel-land episode

The Little Dipper episode is an instance where Dipper and Mabel have a similar squabble to the Stans’ petty hand-holding debacle, but afterwards they open up to one another and stuff is fine again.

The thing about this whole thing - it’s not that Dipper and Mabel never have moments of broken trust between each other or insecurities or anything like this - it’s that when this stuff happened they were eventually able to open up to one another and that’s how they got through it and came to work together without bickering

Because it’s not about blind or naive trust - it’s about that trust and putting in the effort to show some vulnerability and even talk about stuff instead of burying it down

Stan and Ford’s relationship acts as an obvious cautionary foil to Dipper and Mabel’s own, and it’s tragic because like with Dipper & Mabel you can see how Stan & Ford could also have possibly reconciled.

And the tragic thing in this set of lines is that, they really don’t understand and they still view it as this near-impossible thing for themselves.

#fordatalk #stan pines #ford pines #gravity falls #meta #long post #ford is outright going 'how do they do it'#meanwhile stan misunderstands their trust as them never having known broken trust before #or never having gone through anything only to be deeply hurt bc someone didn't haveyour back #and while on the one hand - yeah they haven't had the amount of real life circumstances of getting kicked out or etc #his misunderstanding comes in that he throws out their effort entirely #like they don't have to try as hard to be open bc they're kids and they don't know better #but it's still effort to be open and vulnerable with even people you already trust #because the rift that starts when you start questioning or having the insecurity and you don't say anything...#just because it's harder doesnt mean it's impossible and doesn't mean others arent doing it #(also you know. it Did get harder for dipper and mabel after the weridmageddon start)#ALSO brief aside #but i do also think that the stan twins had some extra obstacles for emotional connection/etc #with filbrick pines as their dad + growing up in the 50s/60s + the toxic masculinity on both sides

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