#I'm not one to shy away from criticism

[little-pup-pip]

Hey! I just wanted to let you know, while I think the moodboards you make are super cute and I do love them a lot, they're super disheartening to see.

All of them, are pretty much just stolen content? You don't bother crediting or sourcing anything on them, so they're basically all just photos/art that doesn't belong to you :(

The small artists who create the deco pacis, the plushies, the photography, deserve to be credited and not have their stuff stolen. Especially when they are products the artist is selling (deco pacis, crochet, handmade collars, etc.) they deserve that attention and credit.

/nm but I've just seen SO many people not caring to source their posts. I really encourage you to credit the posts you create.

Hello hello!! First off, I want to tell you that, for the most part, you're right! This is actually something I think about a lot, and I get where you're coming from. Most of the things I post are uncredited pictures, and I'm going to explain why in the best way I can. But ultimately, it's up to you whether this explanation satisfies you or not (if you have suggestions on how to fix it after reading this whole thing, let me know)!

For context, most of the stuff I post are pictures directly from Pinterest, a site that is notorious for being awful at crediting creators and making it difficult to find the original creators of things. I wish Pinterest was better at allowing people to trace the origins of images, and I would love it if I could find the original creators of every picture I use. Unfortunately, it is genuinely impossible to find the people who take most of the pictures on Pinterest a lot of the time (because Pinterest will show you the most recent saver of a picture rather than the poster, and if you do manage to find the poster, you never know if someone reposted a picture, so the person who you think is the creator actually is not). It's really not a matter of "I don't bother to"; it's that often I can't (this is why I try to avoid using art not made by companies because I'd drive myself crazy trying to find the artist)!

I also want to point out that none of the stuff I use is "stolen"! If you look at Pinterest's terms of service, every picture posted there is entirely free to use, sort of like a stock image, and I have to assume that the posters know that. (Legal talk and a simpler version pictured below)

Additionally, I do show products, but often not by small stores or creators. Most of them are literally product advertisements from large companies that will not take any financial hit from this at all. If you go onto Pinterest and look up something like "blanket," you'll find that it's almost completely large corporations! And that is almost entirely the selection of product pictures I use, especially for my petre boards, as I don't think I have any handmade collars in any of my boards, just commercially made ones!

The pictures that are from smaller creators, such as products, as you stated, can easily be traced back to the creators by downloading the picture and using the Pinterest or even google image search; sometimes, there's even a watermark to make things easier. And, if you ask me, I'll find the creator for you if it's possible!

As a small side note, I never take credit for pictures that aren't my own, and I don't make any money from this. I'm not receiving anything that the creators aren't, except maybe views. And, if people asked me to remove pictures they didn't want on other people's accounts shown on one of my moodboards, I would. I have never had that happen, however, and when people do recognize pictures that they made in one of my moodboards, they have only ever been happy to see them. Here are two examples (check the reblogs)!! Example 1 Example 2

Ultimately, this is a grey area for content, and Pinterest has no better alternative. This debate is also nothing new! People have been making moodboards long before my time and will continue to do so after I stop. And I'm not saying I'm perfect or that other moodboard creators take the same precautions as me, but I am doing my best to make moodboards in a conscionable manner! If you can't get behind it, that's okay!! I would also be happy to discuss this more with you if you want!

[lord-squiggletits]

Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Surprised to see that you as a communist (and a lot of other communists too) seem to like disco elysium so much. doesn't the game make fun of communists a lot?

It does! Quite frequently and gleefully, in fact.

My blanket response to this type of question about most pieces of media would be that, in the words of Big Joel, "I am not a politics robot". My enjoyment of a piece of art is almost entirely orthogonal to how much its implicit or explicit worldview aligns with mine. And I think ultimately that's the way you end up having to approach media if you're a communist who plays videogames at all. Or reads fantasy books. Or watches anime. Or... you get the idea.

But in the case of Disco Elysium specifically I think the read that the game depicts communism just as negatively as all the other ideologies it criticizes is a quite shallow one. Ultimately we're being shown this world through a very communist lens. Like yeah the game has a lot of (usually pretty funny) jokes about firing squads and about "communism is about failure" and about pretentious overeducated college communists who do nothing but read theory and then do some leftist infighting about it, it doesn't shy away from the immoral actions of the revolutionary army, it depicts the dockworkers union as extremely shady and corrupt and basically a crime syndicate (although this depiction is way more nuanced if you actually take the time to dig deeper and talk to people about it), and generally doesn't shy away from pointing at the ugly parts of a variety of communist movements past and present. But, under all of that, the game's understanding of issues like class and poverty and crime and colonialism and imperialism and international conflict is ultimately rooted in a very marxist worldview.

I once saw someone say something along the lines of "everyone in this game talks like a communist regardless of political alignment", and while that's obviously an extremely hyperbolic statement, I do think there's a nugget of truth in it, the clearest example being Joyce Messier. Joyce is an ultraliberal, the furthest thing from a communist you're going to find in the DE universe. And yet, when she talks about the world she does so in very marxist terms, like in her famous "Capital has the ability to subsume all critiques into itself" quote. Like. You'd never catch a real libertarian expressing that idea Like That. And a lot of the more serious, in-depth political discussions in the game are similar.

Plus, ultimately... regardless of how much criticism the game piles on it, of all the ideologies it criticizes, communism is the only one which is not depicted as a completely lost cause. The communist vision quest ends on a quite hopeful note, unlike pretty much any other one, and the Union is ultimately shown as having tons of popular support because they're the only ones who have actually gotten shit done to somewhat improve the lives of the people of Martinaise. I have lots of thoughts about the way Evrart Claire and the Dockworkers union are depicted actually, but for the time being I'm just going to say that the read of "unions are corrupt and union leaders are greedy fat cats who only care about their personal gain", while not exactly lacking in textual support, is likewise an extremely shallow one.

[nebulousmoon3990]

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

III𓂃› SPIDER

Warning: violence, swearing, sensitive topics, bad things, spelling mistakes (English is not my first language) and the reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), female reader!, I accept criticism, but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

Hey guys! I'm really sorry it took me so long to post (I was sorting out some things in my life). well, enjoy the chapter!♡

Clark really didn't know what he was getting himself into.

He had expected to come to New York to do a simple interview for the Daily Planet, write the report and spreadsheet right here while eating at a café and if possible bring back some souvenirs for Lois and Jon.

Fighting a supervillain was definitely not in his plans.

It had happened out of nowhere, while he was waiting for the meeting with the businessman, the urgent news on television warning about a monster attacking the city made him leave urgently. He could solve this and finish it in time.

He just didn't know that he wouldn't need to solve it.

While flying, now as Superman, he easily found the villain, it wasn't very difficult to see him in fact. He was the size of a building of at least nine or ten stories, his skin was rocky and hard, made purely of stone. Clark was about to attack the giant when he heard a scream.

Looking through the villain a helicopter was in the way, the pilot tried to maneuver away but they would be enveloped in the confusion. Using his speed, Clark tried to get closer to the helicopter, however it was not enough since it was still far away.

The rocky hand would catch the vehicle before him.

Well, he is not alone.

Before the walking rock caught the propeller and possibly destroyed the vehicle something got attached to the hand and pulled it up, bringing the villain's focus to another place, his distraction was enough for him to catch the helicopter. He noticed as he moved away that what had stopped the giant was... a web? He followed with his gaze the path of the white rope and saw a figure pass quickly on it.

What?

Leaving the helicopter on top of a landing area of ​​a nearby building, he approached the frightened journalists. "Are you hurt?"

The one who answered was the cameraman, who was still breathing heavily, "N-no, Mr. Superman. We're fine-"

"IT'S HER! TYLER FILM, FILM!" The woman's excitement made the man quickly grab his camera. She looked at him and gave a shy smile while holding the microphone, perhaps a little embarrassed by her euphoria. "Oh, Superman, thank you very much. It's just that we never get clear images of her, so you can understand our excitement."

She? She who?

No one needed to answer his question because when he looked at the monster he saw the "she".

A super heroine

Her figure swayed between the giant and the buildings. She wore a suit that covered her entire body, leaving no room to see any of her features. All Clark could see was that she was short, perhaps indicating that she was a teenager.

The monster tried to grab her with its free hand, moving much faster than it had when it was with the helicopter. She, however, brought her webbed wrist towards the giant's face, causing him punched his own face. Swinging away from him, she taunted, her voice echoing off the buildings. "Hey big guy, is that all you know how to do? For someone so tough, you're softer than jelly!"

Hit a nerve, for sure.

"Who is she?" He asked the man who was filming the action with the reporter, even in a situation like that the cameraman looked at the heroine with a glint in his eye, a glint that intrigued Clark.

"Her? She's Spider-Woman."

Spider Woman, he had never heard of this superheroine, but that didn't matter now.The "Spider Woman" swung again on her webs at the stone man's aggression towards her. Superman moved away from the reporters and headed towards the brute. He was quick to bump his fist with the giant's, preventing him from punching a building. The action made the heroine finally notice the Kryptonian. She widened the white eyes of the mask when she saw him flying. "Superman?"

She hung from a building, climbing the glass to get closer to him, she looked at the monster and then at him, her head spinning until she realized something, knowing that he would help her she addressed him. "Hey, Superman. Can you immobilize him for me for at least a few seconds?"

The Kryptonian looked at her, hesitating a little, but then a smile appeared on his lips "Leave it to me."

They moved together at that moment. Clark used his freezing breath on the stone legs, freezing them and immobilizing him to the ground. With the giant still, the spider woman climbed on his back and reached his neck. While the monster struggled, he saw her take a syringe and apply it to the rocky neck. With the liquid entering the monster's veins, he began to scream. Clark was about to intervene when the thunderous scream stopped.

Slowly, pieces of stone fell from the giant, and when they found their end on the ground, they turned into sand, being carried away by the wind. Little by little, the monster began to disintegrate until there was nothing left of him, just a cloud of dust in the place. Approaching to see the damage, he went down and came across the individuals.

The villain, once gigantic and grotesque, was now a thin and small man, passed out in the heroine's arms, while his breathing stabilized, Clark for the first time observed Spider-Woman up close, without being in the heat of battle.

The costume she wore was outlined in black and golden, the fabric was a mix of a dull color and another bright color, the symbol of a spider displayed proudly on her chest, the hood covered the mask on her face, making it difficult to see the white eyes of the mask. What intrigued him most was that it was not common fabric, since when he tried to use his x-ray vision he could not see Spider-Woman's identity.

She certainly knew how to hide her identity.

Just like someone he knew.

"Looking at he now, he doesn't look like a villain."

"And he isn't, they forced him, he's just an ordinary citizen." The dust slowly cleared, now revealing the street they were on. "Honestly, it's a surprise to see you here, shouldn't you be in Metropolis?"

Clark started to sweat a little. True, he should be in Metropolis, not New York, but he couldn't just watch everything on TV, there was a villain attacking the city! And he didn't know New York had a heroine to protect them! How careless of him. "Yeah, actually, I was..."

"was?"

"I-I flew past here! That's it." Spider-woman looked at him before starting to laugh, well at least he tried to hide it, in fact the excuse had been pretty bad.

"Okay, I'll take this as truth, you must have your reasons, don't you, Mr. Clark?"

The aforementioned froze, looking at the spider, who stood up carrying the injured man. The sounds of sirens were heard in the distance, indicating that the police were coming. "What?"

This time, it was the spider woman who froze, realizing her carelessness too late. She looked at him, and even with the mask on her face, he could have sworn a bead of sweat was on his forehead. "Ah, I and my big mouth."

"Do you know my identity? How did you-"

"L-look, I swear it wasn't intentional, seriously! I have... my reasons to know, but I promise! I didn't tell anyone and I won't tell anyone." Superman just looked at her in astonishment, it wasn't intentional? How did she find out then? While the police and ambulance finally arrived, the woman was quick to hand the man over to the police and briefly explained everything, she distanced herself from the police, ready to leave as quickly as possible when he approached her.

"Who are you? Like, really?" She looked at him, clearly anxious to get out of there. "That's... a secret, but like I said, I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

She pulled away from him again, releasing a web from her wrist, already trapping her in a building to resume her run. But before that, she turned to Clark, the tone of her words showing no lies, only truths. "After all..."

"If I wanted to do this, I would have done it nine months ago."

And with that she was gone.

Again, Clark didn't know what he was doing.

It had been a few days since his encounter with Spider-Woman, the revelation that she knew his identity disturbed him, but that wasn't what was going through Clark's head now.

That was who she was.

That woman (or teenager?, Clark doesn't know) had been saving New York for at least a year and absolutely no one in the league knew, she was literally under their noses the whole time and no one knew! But while they didn't know anything, but New York knew, you weren't liked by everyone but most definitely liked you, you gave those people security every day and they trusted you.

You were a real mystery.

In addition, there was the identity issue. Clark wasn't rich, so he didn't have spectacular security to hide his identity, but he always took precautions. You, however, found out so easily. Clark knew that your "it wasn't intentional" statement might be wrong, but whether it was intentional or not, you still did it.

Clark knew that you wouldn't reveal your identity to the world. Your statement made that very clear, but even so, his head itched and itched to meet you.

Maybe he was being hasty, but you were a great heroine, there was no denying that. You fought well, you were smart, and you had experience. You could be a good ally. Besides, Clark doesn't know if you're an adult, so it would be a good way to keep you under supervision.

That's why he's heading back to New York now.

The sun had already set, giving him a view of the beautiful night that had fallen while he was flying, but at that moment Clark was trying to find you.

He didn't know where you could be, in fact he didn't know what to do when he found you, he didn't even know what sparked his interest, he simply... felt. Something about how you were, the mystery surrounding you intrigued him, and Clark simply followed that instinct.

His thoughts were interrupted when his super hearing picked up a sound, of what sounded like running, it could have been anything but his instincts told him to follow the sound, to find the source.

He did.

And thank goodness he did, because he found you.

You were jumping over the buildings, like he had seen you do before, and it was only when you stopped that he could approach you. You were on the edge of the building, looking down at the floors. Clark intended to approach you, but it seemed like you had other plans.

"I thought you had already left." Your voice was neutral, showing no irritation or pleading, it was as white as a sheet, which made him stop, a little surprised that you had discovered him. "I did."

You turned to him, the eyes of the mask you were wearing showing him your confusion, looking him up and down, your reasoning led you to realize why he was here. "You- wait, are you following me?!"

"Following is a very strong word-"

"But you just admitted that you went to the metropolis and came to New York again!" Your arms gestured so quickly thanks to your nervousness that when you realized it you put one of them on your waist and the other you ran your hand over your face.

Clark couldn't help but find this cute.

"Look if this is because of the identity-"

"More or less, but that's not all." Clark's mouth turned into a gentle smile, your brain thinking about the possibilities again, all while you looked at him.

Silence reigned between the two, neither of them wanting to comment before the other, but it seems that Spider-Woman didn't have much time because a sound came from her gauntlet, she quickly accessed it and Clark saw that the "bracelet" was a type of miniature screen attached to the fabric of the suit, you looked at the messages before turning to Clark.

"I'm sorry but I have to go." You looked at the city below, looking at the lights that illuminated the place. Clark was about to speak when you cut him off before. "No offense Superman, but I think it's better if you go back to Metropolis, I don't have time to talk."

You spread your arms wide as you leaned towards the edge of the building, your eyes narrowed affectionately, which contradicted your voice full of irony. "Then this is our last meeting, thank you~"

And then you threw yourself.

Clark flew to the edge, ready to catch up with you, only to be faced with the emptiness of the city, you disappeared before their eyes, like a ghost.

"Then this is our last meeting."

No, it wouldn't be.

And it wasn't.

For the past four months, Clark has been bothering you, appearing out of nowhere, scaring you, helping you, making you more irritated by his constant appearances, making you more dynamic, more ironic, but happy.

It was a confusion of emotions, to tell the truth.

You expected that after a while he would stop doing this, after all he had things to take care of, for example: a city called Metropolis.

But Clark apparently didn't agree with that, because at least once every two weeks he would go to New York just to talk. The weirdest thing is that he started talking about his life to you as if he had known you for years! He talked about how he loved Lois, his relationship with John and Conner, GOD! He even talked about the Daily Planet!

Dude, he didn't even know who you were and he was just talking about his life to you?

You, however, always listened to him, you didn't tell him anything about your life but you didn't stop listening to him either.

Honestly, if you wanted to, you could very well mess with his life.

Good thing you're the heroine here.

As you jumped between buildings, your danger sensor beeped, warning you of something approaching. Knowing who it could be, you went down to the terrace of a building. Your suspicions were confirmed when you felt a gust of air from above. Turning around, you came face to face with the hero who had been on your tail for the last few months: Superman.

Clark had a gentle smile on his face, the smile of a hero, something that conveyed confidence and comfort. And it really did.

"Hello, Mr. Super, you look as happy as ever."

"Yeah, you look as relaxed as ever." He landed in front of you as you leaned against the building's railing, your elbows keeping your body steady as you assumed a carefree posture. Clark glanced at the buildings behind you nervously, uneasy about something. "I hope you don't mind, but we have company today."

You arched an eyebrow in doubt as your danger sensor went off like crazy, you had a few seconds before you turned around and launched a web at the person. You expected to find a criminal or even a super villain, but you were faced with the sunglasses of a teenager in a costume similar to Superman. "Yeah, she's really fast like you said."

What?

Before you could react, a much smaller figure appeared in front of you, just like the teenager (the difference was that he was a child and didn't wear glasses) he also looked a lot like Clark, he floated in front of you, bright and excited eyes directed at you. "Wow! You're so much cooler in person!"

A drop appeared on your head, turning to the man of steel you muttered to him. "Who are-"

"John and Conner." He chuckled softly, seeing your eyes narrow in irritation. "John really wanted to meet you and Conner ended up joining too."

"Oh." You pulled away from John a little as sarcasm flooded your lips. "That's great!"

Conner chuckled softly as you released him from your web, he approached you as he bent down a little to speak to you, since he was taller. "I thought you'd be happy to see us, it's not every day three Kryptonians come to New York to help with crimes." His voice held an undeniable teasing, the low and deep tone of his voice having the words dragged in his speech, it seemed almost sensual.

You stopped as you watched the other two, John and Clark froze, their gazes fixed on Conner, who you had confirmed was trying to subtly court you.

But you're not the shy girl here.

You approached him, close enough to be face to face, your breath could be felt on his mask. Conner, surprised by your bold move, leaned back, his cheeks flushed with your approach. "Well, New York is already protected by its heroine every day, so I don't need help." The smile on your face grew when Conner turned redder at the sound of your voice.

You quickly moved away from him and hung on the ledge, you turned to him, your figure shining with the lights in the city. "Then watch me do my job, mini super."

You fell from the building, the wind shaking your hood as you fell. Before hitting the ground, you threw a web up and climbed up again, hanging on one at a time. As your figure moved away, Conner and John looked at you. "Damn."

"You better come, or we'll end up losing her."

The night would be very long.

"OH GOSH, I'm so tired!" You yawned as you hung on the webs, it was almost four in the morning and you decided to go home. The supers had already left, you believe they were tired too (Especially Conner, where you and he played flirting all night).

You stopped on the terrace while looking around, seeing if someone or something had followed you, seeing no threat you hung on your web and slowly fell to your apartment, you opened the balcony door and as soon as you entered you were greeted by a satisfied meow.

Looking at the sofa in the living room, you saw Mooly lying on the cushion, the little black kitten moving and going to your ankle, cunning for affection. You laughed softly and picked her up gently, while placing her in your arms. "Hey, haven't you gone to sleep yet?"

As you petted the little one, footsteps were heard throughout the house, when you looked up you came across a large white vinyl robot, its form being embraced by its shadows, its round eyes shining in the dark space.

You looked at it and it did the same, the atmosphere apparently cold and tense to those looking from the outside, but completely the opposite for those who live in this house. The robot bowed respectfully, its voice, calm and tobotic, showed deep down a contained joy, reserved only for those close to it.

"It's so good to see you home." He stood up from his position, round eyes blinking slightly in the darkness of the apartment.

"Master (Name)."

You smiled as you set Mooly down on the couch again, you raised your hand to his neck and squeezed it, causing his mask to retract, revealing his identity. His face, the face of someone forgotten is a frequent presence on the walls here.

(Name) Wayne, the Spider-Woman, the missing daughter, the useless Wayne. His face was older than before, aged like red wine, clearly showing that you took after your father, since your face was just like his. Beautiful and exquisite, cold and deadly.

"It's good to be home Mark, where's Alex?" You asked as you squeezed your shoulder, which was a bit sore from today's patrol.

"Mrs. Alex is already asleep, she said she couldn't stand listening to you flirting with Superboy anymore."This made you laugh out loud, you could imagine Alex covering his ears so he wouldn't hear the two of you. You pressed the bracelet on your wrist and in a flash your suit retracted into the bracelet, showing your figure that had a loose blouse and pants. You stretched, heading towards the bathroom.

"Well, I guess I better go too, tomorrow I have a college project and Mrs. Vivian wants me early at the coffee shop" before you could get there Mark called you, his voice echoing through the house. "You got a message from Master Billy."

You stopped and looked at Mark, the notification displayed on his cute belly from an ologram. "Did he send it at this time?" The robot shook his head and handed the phone to you.

Opening your messages you went straight to Billy's contact, concern starting to creep in on you, but then again, you should know how Billy is.

Because when you saw the message you felt your stomach churn.

Billy Batson was eating the most beautiful and delicious candy you had ever seen in your entire life, and he sent it to you even though he knew about your addiction to sweets.

That little shit-

You quickly typed furiously on the cell phone keyboard, not caring that it was late, just wanting to curse Batson for making you feel hungry when you planned on not having dinner.

'Fuck, I hate you Batson ಥ_ಥ'

His answer didn't take more than a few seconds to come, his response irritating you even more.

'HEY, you finally answered me, I was already worried. Besides, I know you love me 𖹭𖹭𖹭(∪ ◡ ∪)'

'I promise I'll buy one for you, good night little spider ツ'

'...good night Billy.'

You wanted to cry, that's it.

Especially because you were hungry now.

Knowing your fate, you threw the cellphone on the couch and turned on the kitchen light, you heard Mooly and Mark's footsteps following you.

"I think there are still ingredients for a mug cake, right?" eating now wouldn't hurt.

"Bruce? BRUCE!" The aforementioned looked at the entrance of the batcave where Tim and Jason had rushed in. The two looked like they had seen a ghost, sweaty and pale, still in their suits. "Tim, what is it?"

"You- You need to see this!" He sighed heavily as he threw himself into the chair at the control panel, his fingers typing faster than he had seen them on missions. Bruce looked at Jason, who was standing next to him, who had a burning look on his face, hope hidden behind his eyes.

What's going on?

Bruce didn't need to ask, because Tim began to explain to him. "Since the accident with... (Name), I've never found any clues..." Bruce shuddered at the sound of your name, they didn't talk about that subject.

Even after three years it still hurt.

"But that was because I wasn't looking in the right place!" The teenager put up the pictures of the bus that had been carrying you that day, only the wreckage that was left was in the picture. "But now-now I know where to look."

"Last year, Star City had several people kidnapped suddenly, just like (Name) no one found any clues about the case, but Jason and Roy investigated thoroughly and managed to find a kind of underground dungeon where the kidnapped people would be."

Now on the computer was the picture of the bus and of a kind of what Bruce would call a mental hospital. The place was so rotten and filthy that Bruce wondered if anyone lived there. "Apparently there's nothing, but if you look behind each of the huge graffiti on the wall..."

Tim, using the program, removed the graffiti, which gave Bruce a view of the white walls, but in the middle of them, pieces of something nonsensical resided there. "... and put them together."

The movement in Tim's hands moved the images on the wall, distorting and shaping them until one completed the other, making the nonsensical make sense.

"A symbol."

The symbol of a womb wrapped around a two-headed serpent.

"Do you know where else this symbol is?" Tim again returned to the image of the bus wreckage, he shaped the image and put together pieces of the walls that resulted in the same symbol, but with small parts missing. "So you mean-"

"That the same people who kidnapped the people in Star City were the ones who kidnapped (Name)." Jason answered for the two, his tone as dejected as Bruce's.

He can't blame him, he's in a similar state.

"The problem is that I can't find out what it means, I've tried on the Internet, in history books, even on Wikipedia! But I haven't found anything."

The crushing silence suffocated those present, leaving invisible marks on their being. "It has to have a meaning, anything- okay, what does it mean to a womb?!"

"Jason, this is stupid-"

"No, but we have to try! Shit, you only looked in science books or-or whatever, but have you tried to look for anything related to mythology?" Tim thought for a moment, but shook his head negatively.

"The womb refers to the woman, the mother. Now, what does a two-headed snake refer to?" Bruce asked no one in particular, his thoughts searching for the knowledge he had about it.

"Would it be a mother snake? That's nonsense."

Jason thought for a moment and realized something. "Technically, it's not." The red hood searched the control panel while talking to Robin and Batman.

"In Greek mythology, there was a creature that was half snake and half woman." The mythological image appeared next to the symbol. The grotesque figure of the creature somehow referred to the symbol.

"She was known as the mother of monsters."

"Echidna."

HI GUYS, this chapter was a lot of work, I had a lot of blockages but I managed to do it.

Now I have a question to ask: Is Conner treated as Clark's son or brother?

You already know that I haven't read the comics, I've watched Young Justice (at least there it gave the impression that Conner would be treated as Clark's son) but on Wikipedia it says that Conner is treated as John's uncle, please answer me 😭.

I'm also doing a reader drawing (NON-CANONIC), I think I'll do headcanons too. I'll possibly leave a link below.

Ok, let's go to the Tag list \(•◡•)/:

@daiyanomochi - @amber-content - @wizzerreblogs - @foggyv-oid - @kore-of-the-underworld - @theunknowntravel3r - @space1crow - @shortnsweetsposts - @popursocks - @sugasweettea - @salfishers - @itachisank - @jsprien213 - @infirebaby - @yhin-gg -@h-ib

@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93 - @horror-lover-69 - @mybones537 - @eyeless-kun - @timotheechalametswifeys - @justabreadslice - @nymphzy0 - @1-800-g00ber - @pix-stuff - @jsprien213

sorry for any mistakes.

Bye 𖹭

[tyrantisterror]

For whatever reason, I found myself thinking about the theme of heritage/inheritance in Harry Potter and how it's, like, catastrophically broken in the text.

The villains in Harry Potter are almost unanimously racist and classist - they believe they are entitled to behave however they wish and live at the top of the social hierarchy because they were born to rich, pureblooded families, and anyone who wasn't is filth to be exploited and/or purged. That's the philosophy of evil in the book - "I deserve everything because I was born in the right family with the right genes and the right social standing. My heritage makes me better than you."

All the injustice and evil in the books is rooted in this belief in entitlement by way of heritage. People are abused and die because of it. Inherited wealth and status, and more specifically the unfair priveleges it affords, is the root of evil in Harry Potter.

So you'd think the protagonist would present some sort of strong contrast to it, right? That they'd be born poor, or mixed race, etc. But no, Harry is from a rich pureblood family, with the vast wealth and social status that affords.

Well, that's OK, we can still make a contrast. Maybe Harry differs in how he acts with wealth - perhaps, realizing his inheritance is an unfair privilege, he gives it away? Maybe he works to give the underprivileged their due? Again, no, not really. He sometimes buys stuff for his poor friend Ron, and defends his "mudblood" friend Hermione from racist criticism, but he sees no reason to change the system that dehumanizes them in the first place, and by the end of the tale is pleased to exploit his privilege for his own gain.

The whole house elf subplot illustrates this failing well - we have a race of slaves who are frequently shown to suffer from abuse. One of them, the property of a rich racist, risks his life to save Harry, and Harry frees him in return. Oh, nice, finally fighting the system, eh? Except no, not really - while Harry frees that specific slave, he's content to leave the others in bondage, especially when he inherits a slave of his own.

The contrast Harry Potter puts up against its rich, racist, privileged villains is "Hey, being rich and higher in the hierarchy is awesome and just, but you can't be a dick about it." That slaves belong in the dirt, but masters should be polite while putting them in their place.

Voldemort posits himself as the heir of Slytherin - claiming his inheritance is vital to his rise to power and villainy. And Harry opposes him by... also claiming inheritance from a rich old dead guy. Hell, the final battle comes down to who rightfully inherits a specific rare Wand!

The fact that Harry and Voldemort have shit in common is not a flaw on its own - villains and heroes are often foils for each other. But in this specific tale, the relationship the villain has with inherited power is so central to the conflict that the hero having the exact same relationship is a major failing. The story is just shy of saying "Voldemort was basically right, but he shouldn't have been rude about it." It's bad from both a moral and a writing skill perspective.

(The only inheritance Harry fully rejects is parseltongue, i.e. the ability to talk to snakes, which was accidentally given to him by Voldemort, and could be argued to be a symbol of trauma rather than inherited wealth. Also I'm still salty about how that series turned on snakes so cruelly, but that's a whole other rant.)

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

your shark mer 141 and mer remora fic is one of the only things keeping me sane during finals week so please please please dump all of your thoughts on us because your writing style is so good and i can’t get enough!!!!!!!

thank you!! i sincerely hope finals are going/did go well for you! you should treat yourself with a little something if/when you're finished :)

and the shark mer 141 are always happy to be of service <3

37 / 1k / part 2 of shark mer Ghost tolerating remora mer reader

...

"But I'm fine!"

“You’re not. Look at you. You’re half-asleep.”

You’re not tired, you’re hungry. You shift against him, listless and unable to voice your needs. It's not that you're unwilling to do so--it's that you can't. It doesn't occur to you. Your kind doesn't survive by acting needy around a host.

Ghost notices your silent resistance. You’re weak--too tired, too hungry, too used to taking care of yourself--and still stubborn enough to keep your mouth shut anyway. He bites back a growl of irritation. It would be easier to fight. At least then he could shout it out of you. But no--instead you’re a tired lump in his hand, and your silence doesn’t give him anywhere to push back.

He's got one arm looped around you and both of your hands grasped in one of his. He only carries you like this, holding you by the wrists, when you accompanying him isn't up for debate. When you're being particularly fussy about it, he drags you by the wrists as if your arms were leads.

You don't relish that thought right now. You finally just bow your head, tucking it against his chest in submission.

He feels the change in your body language when you surrender to his control. He notices the way you go almost limp against him. Good. That almost puts the hungry, prowling animal in him to rest. Almost.

It’s a hard thing to explain--the gnawing dissatisfaction he felt watching you comb through the sand, small and alone on the ocean floor. The protective, possessive feeling that took root in his stomach.

It made him want to bite you all over. Not just to punish you, but to warn any other lurking thing who might confuse your loneliness for attainability. Not that he'd ever express the impulse to do so.

"Are you coming back to hunt again?" you ask him.

“Why? Do you miss me that much?”

You huff. "You didn't eat enough."

His fingers tighten around your wrists. You either have an inappropriate sense of humor or no self-awareness whatsoever.

“You're in a mouthy mood, huh?” he remarks tersely. “Must be even more tired than you look.”

He’s not stupid. He knows why you invited yourself along on his hunting trip. But he’s not going to coddle you while you shy away from the issue.

He glances up towards the coral reef, considering. If he brings you straight home, you'll just go back to ignoring your obvious needs. But he won’t let you wander the sea floor like some starving bottom-feeder. And he knows better than to hunt for you—you always refuse fresh kills.

The ones Ghost offers, at least. You seem willing enough to take fresh kills from Gaz.

Pisses him off.

You open your eyes when Ghost changes course and heads for a small cove carpeted in sandbanks. He dumps you unceremoniously into the soft sand. You look around, then at him.

"Stay right here." His tone brooks no argument. He swims off with an irritated lash of his tail before you can ask him why. You're left alone, moonlight curling across the surface of the water far above you and across the sand at your fins. Watching it makes your eyelids grow heavy.

You wake with a start when he returns. He holds in one clawed hand a fish. A live one.

He comes to rest on the edge of the sandbank. He doesn't speak, merely watching with a critical eye as you shake the sand from your scales and rouse yourself back into full consciousness. Then he holds out the live fish to you.

"Eat."

You frown but reach for it. Right as you lay your hands on it, it darts away. You jump in surprise, but one look at Ghost's face tells you he expected exactly that to happen. He can’t stop a small, satisfied smirk from curving his lips. That was exactly the reaction he wanted, and now you’re staring at him with six different accusations on the tip of your tongue.

His eyes fix on you with that smug, condescending look in his gaze. "Didn't Price teach you how to hunt for yourself?"

"Yes," you snap. You push yourself off the sand and dart after the fish, catching nothing but water again.

“Clearly not well.”

You strike out again. And come up empty. Again.

He huffs a laugh. You turn on him. "What's the point of this? You're the one who was going hunting."

He leans back, propping his weight on his elbows as he eyes you. Every failed lunge and dart bring him more satisfaction. "The point is that you should be able to feed yourself," he retorts. "You're too dependent, sweetheart. You’d starve in a koi pond."

You’d love nothing more than to tell him where exactly he can shove his stupid fish, but it’s far too mentally taxing for you to refuse outright. Instead, you cross your arms in a way that just as clearly says I'm not doing that.

Ghost’s eyes glimmer. He isn’t having it.

He pushes himself off the sand and swims toward you, pushing you back against the bank when he crowds himself over your smaller frame.

"You know” —his expression is downright patronizing— “refusing an order is a bad move. Bad things happen to disobedient pets."

"It didn't sound like an order," you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

He grabs your jaw and forces eye contact. "Sure as hell wasn't a suggestion, sweetheart. If you're not gonna ask for food when you need it, you're gonna learn to hunt." His eyes are hard, and that smug, self-satisfied demeanor is buried far underneath. "You learn or I make you learn. What do you say?"

You swallow. "Thank you for catching me such a nice practice fish?"

"Good pet." He releases your jaw.

He moves back onto the sand, propping himself on his elbows once more as he leans back. His black eyes linger on you, and you feel a chill.

"Now go."

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more mer au / more Ghost / masterlist tag

[whore-ibly-hot]

'Photo Shoot'

Yan!Photography Student x GN!reader x Yan!Art instructor (Joseph and Mr. Burton)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: All characters are legal age, multiple yanderes, dub-con touching, perverted thoughts, voyeurism, student/teacher dynamics, nude photography, no real mention of specific genitals

AN: I'm so eepy right now... Also, if you like this fic, use the tags on my masterlist to find all the other Yan!Boarding School writings.

The smoke coming from the corner of the room ceases when Mr. Burton snuffs a cigarette butt out on an... ashtray? From where you're sat, you can see him putting it out on what looks more like a student pottery bowl. That strikes you as odd, but he can be very critical of others art so you can't be suprised. Cracking his knuckles and leaning back a little, he turns to you and the extremely quiet classmate beside you, Joseph.

"Alright, lets get this show on the road, yeah? Joseph, you're our camera man, I'll have you leading this thing, running the camera's and I'll give some creative direction. Student and the master, I can finally teach some actual fucking art." Mr. Burton mumbles, as Joseph quickly begins setting up the camera on a tri-pod. You feel odd about him to say the least, despite you being the 'muse', as Mr. Burrton calls you, Joseph's barely made eye contact with you. You agreed right off the bat when Mr. Burton asked you to help one of his favorite students with some anatomy shoots, you like Mr. Burton, he's funny, honest, and that's refreshing, given you worry some people at this academy have ulterior motives. Still, you had some concerns as you fiddle with the thin top you wore at Mr. Burton's request. "Mr. Burton?" you ask, and he looks up from where he's mumbling about something with Joseph. He motions for the young man to keep working as he strolls over.

"I'm nervous." You admit, hand rubbing at your elbow as an attempt to self-soothe. "I don't usually get, nude, on camera, and i-it's not that I don't trust you, sir, but-" He puts his hand up to cut you off, gently rubbing your shoulder. "Woah, woah. I get it, I get it." He assures you, tone comforting. "You're my student, and you've got great, great potential. I've been on the art scene, kid, I see the burnout path some people go down, I see the ways people exploit and get exploited. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. If you get uncomfortable, I'll pull you out. And trust me, being in the nude for art starts to feel perfectly normal after a while, okay?" He pauses, then sighs. "Okay, it's comfortable except for being cold as hell." He laughs.

You chuckle in return, but there's still a bit of worry. He can tell, and leans in. "What is it that worries you, exactly? If it's insecurity, trust me, the real artists are those marketing execs who can photoshop a skinny model and make change up the whole idea of beau-"

"It's not that sir, I promise. I'm just worried about other people seeing, you know? I'm worried about it getting spread around, or people getting bad ideas about me." You admit, face a little pale. Mr. Burton's brows furrow, and he slaps his hand down on his jeans. "Joseph, come here!" He yells.

Joseph jumps, hands shaking as he almost knocks over his tripod. "But- uh, the cameras-" He squeaks out, and Mr. Burton shakes his head. "You're one of the best photographers I've ever met, Joseph, I know damn well that cameras been set up for well over ten minutes already. Come here, don't be shy, don't be weird. You're freaking out the subject." At the idea him staying away is freaking you out just as much as him coming up to you, Joseph walks over. "H-hi." he greets, holding out his hand. You shake it, and it is particularly sweaty.

"Joseph is a great photographer, my best student and possibly one of the best I've ever seen. I assure you, he's a good kid. He's dedicated to his craft, this isn't a complex scheme for him to fence some nudes of you to the highest bidder." The young man's eyes widen exponentially as Mr. Burton makes his assertion, and instinctually puts his hands up in surrender. "No, no! I would never, ever. Do I- do I come off as that kind of creep, if I do I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that at all, I just struggle with, well, some issues like that." Joseph visibly frowns, and Mr. Burtons hand tenses from it's spot on the table.

"You are pretty creepy, Joseph." Mr. Burton admits, making the boy flush as the teacher playfully pushes his head. "This'll be good, good art pushes outside of comfort zones, yeah? Let's get all set up." He claps his hands together as he goes to stand behinf the camera with Joseph. You strip, and sit awkwardly before the camera in front of a messy brick wall with various stains and prints on it from Mr. Burton's studio. Mr. Burtons licks his lips subconsciously as he looks over your meek form, the clears his throat. "Okay, first position, mermaid pose. Lets get those legs to the side."

The shoot continues on for a while, until Mr. Burton suggests a more 'raw' shoot. That's how you find yourself posing, hands over your chest area and thighs ever so slightly parted while Mr. Burton sits behind you, also nude. You worried about it being inappropriate, mostly for his sake. "Couldn't this... I mean, I'm willing to do it if you think it'll be good art, but won't you get in trouble if people find out?" You ask, turning over your shoulder a bit. He scoffs again, and shakes his head. "No self-respecting person with credentials like mine would teach these silver spoon brats art, I'm all they've got." He assures you, going to move an arm around your waist from behind.

"What composition do you want, sir?" Joseph asks, face red as he uses every ounce of will-power to try and suppress an erection at the sight of you and the older man. He'll worry about the new and conflicting feelings later. He's got enough photos to die happy, but the fact you seem so willing fills him with a delusional sense of your interest in him.

"It's your shoot, Joseph. Take over directing." Mr. Burton calls back, and Joseph doesn't seem sure. "I don't know, sir, you have more of a vision than me, and-" Mr. Burton groans, rolling his head back like a kid throwing a tantrum. "Jesus christ, kid. How many times do I have to hammer in that you're a good artist? You can direct your own shoots-" He notices the violently red flush of Josephs cheeks, and chuckles. "Or is this more an issue of being to embarrassed, because I told you-" He waves his free arm around. "We are pushing the envelope, making something raw, pushing ourselves out of comfort zones. To be a great artist, you have to not be afraid to tell your NUDE SUBJECT, to spread their legs and bare it all." Joseph is completely silent, stun-locked by his gruff teachers comments. He begins examining the shot in the view-finder after taking a few shaky breathes.

"Alright, Sir... of course." He swallows, and his shaky hands adjust the lens. "I want to-to try and delineate from what other people think nude shoots are, away from like... porn and stuff. Raw, but intimate, I think." Mr. Burton nods for him to continue, and seeing the interest in your eyes at his creative direction, Joseph gets a little more confident. "If you're okay with it-" He addresses you now. "I'd like Mr. Burton to be able to touch you, nothing too invasive, just a kiss on the neck or the shoulder, maybe letting him hold your thigh?" Joseph keeps his tone soft and asking, sure to imply you can say no.

"That's alright, I trust him." You mumble, looking at the gruff art instructor and seeing to your surprise a soft look on his face. "I'm honored, little muse." He teases, and the nickname makes you flush. "Oh, and you too, Joseph, we've not talked much, um, but you seem really dedicated, I'm sure I'm in good hands."

Shit. Well, so much for keeping his dick down, but at least he doesn't think you can see from the way the lighting is set up. He nods, and you shiver, feeling a cold pair of lips and a thin stubble scratch at the surface of your shoulder. "Are they cold?" Mr. Burton chuckles, placing a few more small kisses as you hear the camera shutter snap. "I'm sorry, I can't control the thermostat in here, all this money and they can't afford to make sure I don't freeze my dick off doing my job." He's always so grumpy, even when he's trying to be sweet. You close your eyes and try to relax into the feeling. It escalates occasionally, hands on your thighs as he kneads gently at your flesh, occasionally making a complaint about something or picking at Joseph, who keeps making an odd series of grunts, but you assume he's just breathing heavy from being so focused.

It culminates in you being positioned over him, as if playing the playful or dominate role in some sort of erotic moment. Mr. Burtons hands rest on your ass, his firm yet not fully erect cock a little too close to your hole. You're chest to chest with him, and while he's relishing in the feeling, Joseph makes a hand motion, and he knows its time to pull away, at least for this ession. He's smart, knows not to rush it, and he knows this is more than enough material for the vouyeristic camerman.

"I think we got some good shots, i-it's getting late. I'll go grab something from the vending machine while you too warm up." Joseph scarmbles away, camera bag held oddly across his crotch area. Mr. Burton smiles as you slide off from him, flushed as the weight of your previous position hits you. "You were great, a real professional." He urges, scooting forward to sit beside you.

"Thank you, sir. I was trying not to get too flushed or anything, I hope I didn't sweat too much." You admit, and he shakes his head to assure you. "Nah, you did fine, but if I could make a suggestion?" You look up. "No real intimate scene like that doesn't have a couple kissing. On your neck and shoulders was fine, but lets face it, people do more than neck each other when they're getting it on like that." He glances at the door, making sure Joseph is still doing whatever it is he's doing out there. He didn't discuss this part with the young artist, but let's face it, learning to be one step ahead, to protect your work and your muse, is something he's gonna have to learn anyways. "Will you let me show you?" he asks, voice low as he leans closer to your face.

You glance at the camera. "It's not running, though shouldn't we wait for joseph to take the photo?" You ask, a little more unsure about the artistic integrity of the action. He shakes his head as he lets his stubble scratch your cheek. "This'll be practice, yeah? For next time..."

"Next time?"

"Next time." He mumbles, lips feverishly sealing against your as he hunces over your form, cold bodies pressing together and leaving goosebumps which trail down your form as the session closes out.

[alessandra-14]

Quiet sister, concerned brothers

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Summery: Dean and Sam Winchester have a 15 year old half sister who often feels neglected and overlooked by her brothers. Her sadness and loneliness build up until she can no longer hide her feelings.

Trigger warning: way to much use of Y/N, emotional neglect

Word count: 1.5k words

A/N: I used a different perspective this time. Please please let me know which one you prefer so I know what to continue with! Thanks.

The creaky old bunker was silent, a rare occurrence given the nature of it's inhabitants. Y/N sat on her bed, the flickering light from a nearby lamp casting long shadows on the walls. She hugged her knees tight to her chest, feeling the weight of another day spend in the background.

Sam and Dean, her older brothers, had been on a hunt all day. She texted them but unsurprisingly received no answer from any of them. They returned the next day around noon with stories about demons and near-death experiences, hardly acknowledging her presence as they recounted their tiring adventures.

Y/N was used to this. As long as she can remember, she had been the quiet, shy girl who stayed in the shadows while her brothers were always the center of attention.

She loved them dearly, of course she did. They have raised her, they gave her a family. Something she never new before them. But the constant feeling of being forgotten gnawed at her heart. She knew they didn't mean to emotionally neglect her, it was just how things were. Sam and Dean are hunters and she is just…. there

….

A week later they were on the road again, driving to a small town in Nebraska where strange disappearances had been reported. Y/N joined them this time. She felt as if she is going to suffocate if she stayed in that bunker for any longer.

She sat in the back of the Impala with her head resting against the cold window. The low rumble of the engine was almost comforting, a familiar sound in her otherwise tumultuous life.

Dean glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, a frown creasing his forehead. "You okay back there kid?"

Y/N forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sam turned around in his seat, giving her a concerned look. "You sure? You've been pretty quiet lately. More than usual. You barely talk to us." "Yeah I'm fine, just tired", she lied, hoping they would drop the subject. She didn't want to burden them with her feelings. They had enough to worry about.

Dean just shrugged and turned up the music, and Sam went back to his research. Both of them just believing her lie for now. None of them had the energy to deal with it at the moment.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to push away the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.

The hunt went relatively well. Sure it could have gone way better but it's not the worst one they've had so far. Turns out the disappearances were caused by a little groupe of vampires. Fortunately for them it was easy to track them down to an abandoned warehouse. The killing part was a bit more tricky though.

Y/N helped out a lot this time. She was quite proud of herself for that. Thought that Sam and Dean would be impressed but did they even acknowledge her hard work? absolutely not.

"You did good kid but you could definitely improve your skills with the machete and you also need to work more on your stamina you are way to slow." Those are the first words she hear from Dean as they walk back to the car. Of course it hurts. She tried so hard to make them acknowledge her skills but apparently all they see is her weakness or simply nothing at all.

Sam doesn't confirm Dean's criticism but he also doesn't defend his sister in any way. The walk back to the car is just silent and tense. A feeling Y/N is simply sick of.

It doesn't get any better in the car so all she does is put her headphones in to listen to music to drown her loud bad thoughts and her brother's voices.

....

The next time they went on a hunt didn't go differently. Y/N was allowed to join again. She even tried to show of her great skills against the witch they had to fight but once again it went mostly unnoticed by the two brothers. The only thing that stuck with them was how slow she moved and how much she apparently hesitated when shooting the witch.

She kept quiet for the whole ride back to the bunker. What was she supposed to say anyway.

Back at the bunker Dean is the first one to break the silence between the siblings. "Hey kiddo remind me to teach you how to use a gun properly. You suck a little at that" He said as he went to grab a beer. His words were meant in a playful way but for Y/N it's enough to set her off completely.

"Can't you just stop with that?!" Sam and Dean both turn to look at her with a confused frown. "Stop with what?" Dean asks bewildered.

"With t-this! I just can't listen to you constantly telling me that I am not good enough. Every time I do something good you find something bad to say. Both of you just completely ignored the fact that I killed the witch on the hunt today all that was important to you was to tell me I suck at shooting! And when you don't criticize everything I do, you just don't talk to me. I simply get ignored. That's not fair!"

Y/N stopped once she ran out of breath but she was not anywhere near done letting everything out

"Y/N what-" Sam immediately gets interrupted by his sister. "No! I'm done. I'm done with hunting. I am done doing anything in my power to make you acknowledge my hard work for nothing and I am done with seeking your validation and attention at all times!"

None of the brothers get a chance to say anything because the second the girl is done she storms off to her room. Not that they knew what to say anyway.

The silence that follows is a tense one. Both brothers are at loss for words. Her speech was something none of them expected to hear. "Should we go check up on her? That was pretty intense"

But Sam shakes his head at Dean's suggestion. "No, we should let her cool off for a bit. I'll check up on her later"

....

Dean can't help but think about every interaction he had with his sister after every hunt and he unfortunately has to admit to himself that what Y/N said was true. The guilt is more than visible on his face it seems as if he is drowning in it. Sam isn't feeling any better. He is trying his best to no stand up and rush into his sisters bedroom and apologize for everything he and his brother said to her to make her feel as if she was not good enough.

He is holding that urge back fairly well but the moment he heard loud crying from her room he decides he is done with waiting and giving her space. He just needs to see if she is alright and fix this.

He walks up towards the door of your bedroom and softly knocks on it. "Hey...do you mind if we talk for a moment? I just want to make sure you're okay" Sam waits for a couple seconds which feels like minutes to him. But he receives no answer from the girl on the other side of the door. So he tries again but yet he gets no answer this time either.

Sam knows her silence is answer enough and turns around to leave. Not even two steps later he hears the door opening and his little sister's sad sniffles. He turns towards her and the mere sight of his sibling standing there with red rimmed eyes and a tired expression, was enough to break his heart into many pieces. Especially because he knows he is at fault.

"We can talk if you want" Her voice sounds raspy and her words come out quiet. A big indicator that she has been crying for a long time.

Sam simply nods and follows her into her room. Both sit down on the bed. Y/N looks towards her hands and keeps her gaze fixated on that.

"I wanted to apologize for making you feel as if you are not good enough. That was really not alright. You are great kid. You help us out so much. Doesn't matter if it's with research, or hunting or just helping around the bunker. Dean and I appreciate it. We appreciate you"

Y/N scoffs which slightly takes her older brother by surprise. "Well none of you know how to show that said appreciation"

Sam sighs since he knows she is right. "I know we don't but I really mean it when I say that we do care and do acknowledge your help and hard work. Even when we tell you about the thing you could improve. I also know how harsh Dean's words must have sounded to you and he feels bad. He really does."

The teenaged girl stays silent for a moment before finally nodding. "I forgive you. But I still want to take a little break from hunting. I'll help with research, sure but that's all. It's just too much right now" Sam agrees with you. "Sure that's fine. I understand, kid. And so will Dean"

Y/N looks up from her fidgeting fingers and turns her head towards her brother while wiping her tears. "Thank you Sam"

"Don't thank me, sweetheart. Please" Another silence follows after Sam's words. Yet this time it's not tense or heavy. It's comforting.

[rainybubbles]

What hug COD men would give you ?

Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

G H O S T : Comfort hug.

You always used to jokingly ask Simon, "Want a hug?" knowing how much he detested physical contact.

He'd always respond with a firm no.

It became your way of greeting this burly soldier, a ritual of sorts.

So why... why was he now whispering those words to you?

"Need a hug?" His voice was hoarse, raspy, bearing the marks of too many cigarettes and too much silence. Yet there was an unexpected warmth in it, a warmth that could thaw you.

"No." you said.

Cold and trembling, with lips turning blue and tears welling in your eyes, you were at your breaking point.

It started with a soldier's criticism, then your chief's belittling of your work, followed by a letter from your mom, a malfunctioning oven, and a stubborn onion. It all culminated in your retreat to the cold room, seeking solace, seeking release.

But the door was jammed, leaving you alone in your despair. What a pathetic demise for a cook. Yet Ghost, ever watchful, came to your rescue, finding you in your distress. And in that moment, he echoed your jest.

"Need a hug?" he repeated.

You nodded. He knelt beside you, gathering you in his arms, offering not just his warmth but also solace. Your arms instinctively wrapped around him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"It's okay."

"The lock, it—"

"For everything."

"Do I look that awful?"

"Yeah."

"You're supposed to say no."

"Not a liar, darling."

"Not a hugger either, but here you are."

"You're the exception, I suppose."

You were.

What you initially thought were mere circumstances now seemed to hold a deeper truth.

And the next day, when you initiated your ritual greeting with "Need a hug?" Simon's response of "maybe" signaled a shift in your dynamic.

________________________________

SOAP : "I'm home in your arms" hug.

He always gives hugs.

Soap is a very physical person; you knew that even though you were just a friend of a friend. You never dared to speak to him much, too shy. He seemed like a sun.

At gatherings, you were always quiet, so you weren’t sure if he remembered your name.

But he always had his eyes on you, always had his hug for you, and when nobody listened to your ramblings, he was there asking you to continue.

It was a silly crush; his hugs were something you secretly enjoyed. A thing, a treat for your heart, even though you knew it wouldn’t be more.

So when you opened your door, expecting it to be the delivery man from something you ordered online or maybe some important packages to sign, but…

You got bumped into.

You fell with the strength of the stranger’s hug until you recognized the mohawk.

“John?”

“Sorry, I got carried away,” he said, helping you up.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m the one who needed a place. Mancy asked you, right?”

You remembered.

Mancy had asked if her friend could stay at your place for one week.

You didn’t know it would be John.

“Oh, yeah.”

“You don’t seem happy.”

“Well, if you hug me so hard I’ll fall every day, then no.”

He chuckled.

“It’s because I’ve missed you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, after three months without your pretty smile, a man goes insane.”

“My dad lives just fine without it.”

“True, but he’s a moron. I’m not. Now give me a hug.”

“Okay.”

And you did.

Gently, you noticed his hands around your waist, the way he slowly soothed his breath.

You didn’t know, but the only thought Johnny had in mind was, “I’m home.”

____________________________

GAZ : "I'm sorry" hug

The TV droned on in the background, but your gaze couldn't focus on it. Your stomach was tied in knots, and you felt utterly lost. 

The argument had been trivial, blown out of proportion by fatigue and frustration. You and Kyle were both drained, and the clash of tempers only fueled the misunderstanding, escalating it into a full-blown confrontation.

Now, you found yourself at a loss for what to do next. Kyle had stormed off for a walk, his usual retreat during tough times. But this time, his absence felt like an eternity.

You knew you could reach out, ask him where he was, beg him to come back. Yet, your stubborn pride held you back.

Was it pride or fear? Fear that he wouldn't return?

The nagging voice in your head echoed the doubts others had planted—that you weren't good enough for him, not pretty enough, not kind enough. You felt inadequate, unworthy of his love.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, your nose tingling with the threat of more to come. It felt absurd to be sitting here, watching a documentary while your relationship teetered on the brink of collapse.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you sat there, watching a documentary you couldn't even comprehend. 

When the door finally creaked open, your heart leaped into your throat, memories of past confrontations resurfacing. But the footsteps that followed were hesitant, tentative.

Turning slowly, you found Kyle standing there, mirroring your own disheveled state. Puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks spoke volumes of his own internal struggle.

Standing up, you met his gaze, unsure of what to say or do.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the silence that enveloped you both.

"Me too," you replied, your own voice catching in your throat. "It was foolish of me to let my anger get the better of me."

"I agree," he murmured, stepping closer. "We need to find a better way to communicate, darling."

"Yeah, and maybe get some sleep," you added, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Definitely," he whispered, extending his hand towards you.

You took it, feeling the warmth of his touch, and allowed him to pull you into an embrace. In that moment, words became superfluous as you both sought solace in each other's arms, tears mingling and laughter bubbling forth.

"I feel ridiculous," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

"Me too," he confessed, his grip tightening around you. "But being with you makes everything better."

"Agreed," you murmured, snuggling closer.

"What if..." he began, his voice trailing off.

"What if what?" you prompted, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

"What if we can't sleep because of the neighbors?" he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, what about them?" you replied, confused.

"Let's move out," he proposed, his eyes earnest.

"Kyle, we live in separate apartments," you reminded him, a hint of skepticism creeping into your tone.

"Then let's get a house," he persisted, his gaze unwavering. "A place where it's just you and me, lost in the forest. Our sanctuary."

"You're just saying that," you countered, though a flicker of hope ignited within you.

"I mean it," he insisted, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I want a life with you, everything included. The silly arguments, the morning wake-ups, all of it. I don't want to wait to see you, but I also don't want you living on base. A house... it's us, it's safety, it's peace, it's..."

"Commitment," you finished for him, the weight of his words settling in your heart.

"Yeah, that too," he admitted, a shy smile gracing his lips.

"Okay," you whispered, a surge of emotion welling up inside you.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Yeah," you confirmed, squeezing his hand.

He enveloped you in a tighter embrace, and in that moment, you knew that perhaps this sorry hug was the beginning of something beautiful.

________________________________

PRICE : last hug

You felt his embrace, and a smile graced your lips.

“I never pegged you as a hugger, Captain,” you remarked.

“Don’t talk, soldier,” he replied, his voice firm yet gentle.

Nevertheless, you found comfort in his arms, basking in the warmth they provided. Your consciousness nudged you to close your eyes and surrender to the moment.

“Cap, can I rest?” you inquired softly.

“Not yet,” he responded tersely.

“But why? Even ghosts nap during brief,” you persisted.

“Don’t make me spell it out,” he said, his voice trembling, tears glistening in his eyes. 

Confusion laced your whisper, “Why are you crying, Cap?”

As you attempted to step back, you felt something damp on his hands. Bringin your own hand up, you saw it- red, your blood.

Blood.

Your blood.

It wasn’t a mere cut; it was a hemorrhage.

“Why…” you began, your voice trailing off.

“Don’t give up,” he interjected, his tone weighted with understanding.

He knew. You knew.

You wouldn’t last, and the medics wouldn’t arrive in time.

“Cap, could you...hold me tighter?” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper.

“Soldier,” he acknowledged.

“Just one last embrace, please,” you implored, a desperate longing for affection evident in your words.

Yearning for one final moment of love.

He acquiesced.

You buried your nose in his aftershave, despite the mingling scent of tobacco. Your arms savored the feel of his gear, your cheek nuzzling against his neck, the roughness of his beard against your skin.

Despite the warmth he provided, a chill crept over you. Your lips grew heavy, your eyelids too burdened to stay open.

“I'm glad it was you, Cap. Your hugs are the best,” you murmured, a serene smile gracing your lips.

With your blood staining his gear and your body cradled in his arms, he granted you your last hug, whispering your name softly.

____________

KEEGAN : "you're alive" hug

His breath came in quick, shallow gasps, his ears filled with screams. His eyes focused on Ghost’s voice, and then he saw you, lying on the ground.

What were you doing on the battlefield? You were a civilian. He sprinted towards you, but your body remained still. He reached out for your hands, but they slipped from his grasp.

Nightmare.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. His back was drenched in sweat, his mind replaying the image of you lifeless. He couldn’t move.

Reaching for his phone, he knew he wouldn’t believe you were alive until he saw it with his own eyes. He made his way to your shared flat, knocking on your door.

As you slowly opened your bedroom door, relief washed over him. "Keegan, what the hell—" He cut you off with a tight embrace, his hands on your neck feeling the rhythm of your heartbeat. "You're alive."

"Yeah, obviously. You saw me just two hours ago, we're roommates, Keegan."

"You're alive," he repeated, his voice trembling with emotion.

Seeing his state, you melted into the hug. "You need to sleep."

"I can't."

"In my bed, you can check if I'm alive like this, okay?"

"I don't want to—"

"Keegan."

"Okay."

Slowly, he settled into your bed, your warmth comforting him. You worked on your laptop, but he didn't mind. His arms wrapped around your body, he could feel the steady beat of your heart. He knew it was his favorite sound because it meant you were alive.

"Sleep well, Keegan."

"Thanks."

And that night, he didn’t have any more nightmares, wrapped in your embrace.

If you want more : my masterlist

[sanguineterrain]

I think I saw you're on s1 of criminal minds soooo baby sweetheart Spencer 🥰 (u are in for a ride with his plotlines!) If ur writing requests maybe reader and Spencer going on a date? And maybe they're both kinda shy 🤭

short one! hope u like 🩷 gn!reader. first date w/ spencer. he's so baby sweetheart 💕

****

"Was this a bad choice?" Spencer whispers in your ear, barely audible.

You turn away from a Pissarro, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "The painting?"

"No, uh—" Spencer casts a sidelong glance at the painting. "I don't think I'd have the authority to criticize even if I did mean the painting. Besides, Pissarro's work is beautiful."

You're beautiful, you want to say.

Somehow, you're still nervous around Spencer. Maybe it's normal considering this is your first date. You'd hoped to have gotten over it by now.

He's just so... unreal.

"I think if anyone had the authority, it'd be you. French artists must've popped up at some point during your research."

"More than you'd expect, actually. We had a case a while back where the killer used blood and turpentine to—" Spencer stops, shakes his head. "No. Sorry. That's not appropriate date talk."

You laugh. "I don't mind, Spencer. I know you work for the FBI. It's interesting to hear you talk."

He frowns, that adorable crease in the middle of his forehead resurfacing. You want to kiss it.

"No, I meant coming here," he says. "Was it a mistake? I did some research before I asked you out, and they said that it's important to get to know the person on the first date by talking. But we haven't been talking. But then I know you enjoy museums. And you like silence sometimes because being outside can be overwhelming. So that's why I chose here. Not because I don't want to talk to you. I do, I just—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," you say. "But that's probably the most considerate decision anyone's ever made for me."

"Oh." Spencer tilts his head. "I mean, I don't know how else to go about it."

You know. That's why you like him so much. That's why you're so nervous.

"Do you want to talk?" you ask. "We can go to the cafe and talk."

Spencer sighs. "I don't know. There's a lot of rules to dating, according to the Internet. And Morgan."

"I like looking at paintings with you, even if we don't talk. I'd like doing pretty much anything with you, Spencer."

He ducks his head, scratches his neck. "Really?"

His shyness makes you shy. You bite the inside of your cheek. "Uh-huh."

"I'm overthinking this, aren't I? Hotch tells me that I think myself out of a good thing."

You shrug. "Well, you won't here. I overthink stuff too. It's okay."

Spencer nods and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. "So you're enjoying this?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

"I am."

And then, jerky and a little awkward, Spencer takes your hand. You hang there for a moment, fingers just barely linked. Then you adjust your grip so you're properly holding hands.

"If my hand gets sweaty, you can let go. I don't mind," Spencer says.

"My hands get sweaty too. I don't care."

He squeezes your hand. "Okay."

You return to the Pissarro. You'd may as well be looking at concrete, though. The only view you'd spend hours on is Spencer Reid.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

[glitter-stained]

A fun, happy dc story for a change

Look I can be very critical of Winick's writing because I'm so ambivalent about it but damn if it isn't, on a meta level, a really satisfying spite story.

At the core of this story, there is Jim Starlin. Now Starlin's writing has many flaws, not least of all the blatant racism and sexism. And if there's one thing Jim hates, it's Robin. He wants to kill that little boy so bad, oh how he hates that bright coloured child in tights that's just holding Batman back from reaching his true potential as an absolute badass... And hey, good news! Dc, in trying to bring a second Robin after the first got a new identity, has dropped the ball, and the new boy is unpopular amongst the fans who miss the previous iteration! This is his opportunity to kill Robin, definitely!

But how? People may not have voted him dead yet, but Jim is already planning, setting up plots and trying his damndest to get him killed. And the thing about Jim- the thing that makes him a good writer, you see, the thing that separates him from those losers who fail to see Batman's true potential, is that his writing is gritty. He's not afraid to write a true dark knight facing the grimdark horrors of a town laden with crime, to shy away from the real dark, gritty topic that are mature and dark like rape. And uh, sexual violence against women. And uh, serial raping and killing women. (I'm kidding, of course, I didn't forget the native american cult leader who bathes in blood to prolongate his life. Or about the kgb agent Batman straight-up kills after he tries to kill Reagan. Or about the suicides, god I haven't forgotten about that. Don't worry.) But anyway, sexual abuse in general is a big theme for Jim. It shows how serious and dark and gritty he can be. So he has an idea: why not make Robin a child sexual abuse victim and give him AIDS? That way that's a justification to write Robin unlikeable (by making him emotional when exposed to situations of sexual abuse, unable to restrain his anger when defending a prostitute...) and at the same time it's the perfect way to kill Robin! DC has been considering giving a character AIDS, it's perfect! It will show everyone how dark and gritty Jim's writing is, he can make Robin even more unlikeable on top of how people are upset about the transition between Robins, and then he can finally kill Robin! It's perfect! Jim is a genius!!!

Now, of course, we know that plan failed: first because dc rejected Starlin's idea for Jason to die of AIDS, and second because as soon as Jason (as a character, which is what DC apparently had a problem with) died, they fired Starlin as a Batman writer and introduced a new Robin, making Starlin's vehement campaign against a fictional fifteen years old completely vain.

So that's it, right? Crisis avoided, we almost had some even worst writing that what already was, everyone sigh in relief and go home?

Enter Judd Winick stage left.

Now, remember how DC wanted to give a character AIDS? In 2003, Green Arrow #43 reveals that Mia Dearden, Oliver Queen's ward and a csa survivor of underage prostitution, is HIV positive, and in #45, she takes on the mantle of the second Speedy, becoming, according to Wikipedia, the most prominent HIV-positive superhero to star in an ongoing comic book. (And also one of my favourite comics characters, but that's unrelated.) An important thing about Winick, who wrote those issues, is that he is personally invested in education about AIDS, continuing his friend Pedro Zamora's educational work after his death of AIDS-related progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy. (He also wrote a graphic novel about it, called Pedro and Me: Friendship, Loss and What I've Learned). So kudos! We finally got someone who has done research and actually holds respect for HIV+ people writing HIV+ characters. And Mia is so cool, man- but not only is she a really interesting character, she is, first and foremost, a survivor. That's how she characterizes herself, sees what happened to her: she did what she had to do to survive, and now she's a fucking superhero and she's here to help others and you know what she's not gonna do? Die "of AIDS."

Yeah, I haven't forgotten Starlin's terrible writing. And, if Winick's writing is any identification, it seems like he hasn't either. The idea of making the second Speedy a parallel with the second Robin isn't groundbreaking, but it's cool that it's there (and also, incidentally, a reminder that parallels are interesting and fun and backstories are not a finite resource characters can run out of or steal from eachother.) Anyway, this includes Winick altering Mia's backstory and making her a street kid to make it more similar to Jason's, as well as Mia's on-screen murder offering a nice parallel to Jason's ambiguous murder in Starlin's Diplomat Son (a parallel I can't help but regard with vindicative snark, because that's how you handle a teenager who has just caused, directly or not, a man's death out of hopelessness in a situation that felt impossible. A little snark of See? Now this is how it's done. Yeah, Starlin's Bruce isn't winning any parenting against Winick's Ollie, that's for sure.) So there it is! Our fun spite story, Winick taking on Starlin's terrible ideas, a teen vigilante and survivor taking on a hero identity to mirror a teen vigilant's loss and death, a good old fashioned schooling. Cool? Cool!

And then, in 2005, Winick buries Starlin's last remaining impact on DC by bringing back Jason Todd, in a move so audacious in the back-then landscape it would be kinda akin to bringing Ben Parker back to life in Spiderman's life as a villain (please don't tell me this happens in the comics I don't read Marvel and if someone wrote that I would honestly prefer not to know). Now, of course, the impact of Jason's death on the narrative can't and shouldn't be undone by that move, but that's not important, because that's not what Starlin wanted when killing Jason - he wanted to kill Jason/Robin, not give everyone grief-induced hallucinations where Jason/Robin had an incredibly salient place in the narrative, so he didn't get what he wanted anyway.

Personally, my view on Winick's writing of Jason is contrasted (and the fact that there are some elements of Starlin's characterization of Jason that I prefer to Winick's deeply amazes me, incredibly ironic situation. Which only serves to point that even Starlin' goal of making us hate his version of robin failed drastically, as me and my jaybin fan mutuals can attest. Sucks to suck!). But as much as some of the decisions frustrate me, do you understand how much of a power move it is to take this child, this victim who has been victim-blamed for years, and bring him back to life with a vengeance and a demand that his life mattered, that his death was a bad thing that shouldn't be tolerated? Do you know how good that story feels, especially to victims when reading it and see that indignation validated, that rebellion against the status quo and victim-blaming, how good it feels to see a "bad victim" that refuses to stay down ? And in the context of Starlin's intent to write Jason a CSA victim, Winick writing Mia, the HIV+ plot for them both- do you understand the genuine and violent glee I feel, that it's Winick that wrote Jason coming back to life and hunting down the narrative with a machine gun?

So yeah. This is the context in which I talk about acknowledging the csa subtext in Green Arrow: Seeing Red, but this post isn't about lecturing you to accept it as canon or imply that you're bad for not sharing that interpretation. It's about spite -towards Jim Starlin specifically. And it's about that interpretation, but the context in which it was written in general, is not just a victory against Starlin, that guy lost long ago, but the narrative equivalent of that Green Arrow meme about taking a funny selfie over a gravestone. In Seeing Red (specifically in the line that's discussed when questioning the csa headcanon), Jason tells Mia they are similar because of what they had to do to survive, framing the sexual trauma on Mia's part (and thus allegedly also on Jason's) again firmly on the side of survival rather than victimhood. Whether it's by becoming a villain or a hero, there's this rebellion against being an object to the violence, which is at the core of Starlin's treatment of sexual violence. This is fun. We're having fun. I'm repeating myself, but do you understand how satisfying, electrifying it is? I'm filled with unreasonable amounts of glee. You don't always need the context in which a story was written to enjoy it but in this case, doesn't this make it so much more enjoyable? (And on top of that, kudos to Winick for killing Captain Nazi, I hope it was as satisfying to write as it looked.) Anyway, Mia Dearden and Jason Todd, the characters that you are. I love them so much.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to you reading fanfic about another member

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

SCOUPS: sulky baby mode x 100 when he finds out you're reading fanfic- and it's not even about him, it's about jeonghan??? he's upset because like he's right here?? why do you even need words on paper?? why are you giggling and kicking your feet when he's right here?? grabs your phone and throws it away from you - complains that you're basically cheating on him with jeonghan. shuts up real fast when you tell him he's basically cheating on you with jeonghan too.

JEONGHAN: very very very flabbergasted and betrayed. makes fun of you for even reading fanfic in the first place - ahhh i didn't know you were dElusiOnal like that (¬`‸´¬) mood switches up real fast when he finds out its literally a fanfic about dino. what the fuck man. dino????? his mind malfunctions at the mere thought of it. asks you what you see in him besides dino being the maknae. will read over your shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

JOSHUA: flushes and does not know what to say. gets all shy and giggly thinking its a fanfic about him and is stunned when you tell him- No! it's about mingyu! whines that he's literally your boyfriend and you're still reading about mingyu?? starts threatening to call mingyu up and expose you.

JUN: blinks in confused cat. asks you to explain why there's a fake story online about joshua and why you liked it?? is still very confused when you explain to him the online culture of fanfiction. will not talk to you when he finds out its a romantic story and you're reading as Y/N. joshua?? really?? i'm right here?? can hold a grudge for a loonngg time, jun stans beware.

HOSHI: finds it absolutely hilarious that there's even fanfiction about vernon existing in this world. finds it even more hilarious how invested you are. pesters you until you send him the link so he can forward it to vernon. will sit next to you and begs you to read it out loud like a bedtime story - cackles whenever Story Vernon does something he knows Real Vernon would die before doing.

WONWOO: judges you HARD until he researches more and finds some fanfics that are actually really well written. sends you ones about him as a poor attempt to distract you from reading ones about other members. will side-eye poor writing and acts like a writing critic. gets fed up if you continue to read fanfics about other members and tries reporting every fanfic not about him so you can't find it. (spoiler alert: he fails)

WOOZI: shrugs. understands everyone has their little quirk. he's a little weirded out that its fanfics about people he knows personally but he doesn't mind. looks at you when you start ranting about a "really good story" and asks you point blank if its another piece of fanfiction. finds it cute that you try to hide it from him. just say it's a really good fanfic plot, love. you're not fooling anyone with the "it's an amazing book i read online."

THE8: asks if you need to start meditating again. does not support the amount of delusion (sorry guys but have you guys seen the the8 anti fan service clips) chides you that he's literally right here and you don't need an online version! will tell you to just go find the member you're reading about if you want them so bad. (¬`‸´¬)

DK: giggles as he reads over your shoulder. gags at mentions of kissing. turns bright red if it's smut. looks at you with wide eyes and asks if you're really into kinky shit like that because he did not know. calls up seungcheol to tell him you're reading naughty things about him and dies at how mortified you look.

MINGYU: ego boosted 100% when you tell him its a seventeen fanfic. starts rolling his shoulders about to show off, telling you of course you're reading abt meeee ik im hot jeez im right here ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ ). is offended and perplexed when you tell him you're acc reading about woozi. sighs really loudly everytime he sees you on your phone - even if you're not reading fanfic (╥‸╥) will work extra hard at the gym just to prove to you he's the best one.

SEUNGKWAN: supports your interests 100%. admits to you months later that he acc also sometimes scrolls through their fanfics, just to see what their fans are up to. trades good fanfics with you sometimes - he stays solely with fluff fics though, will throw you the nastiest sideeye if you send him a smutty one.

VERNON: bro does not care! he just kind of nods, telling you that its cool. you can tell he's a little awkward about it though cause he doesn't bring it up ever again. will occasionally ask you for fic updates to see if you found anything funny or weird.

DINO: does not mind the fanfic reading itself but is super super annoyed that you're reading about someone else. WONWOO?? he'll yell, grabbing your phone to take a better look cause he cannot believe his eyes. what does hyung have that i don't?? threatens to expose you to wonwoo if you don't stop and read dino fics instead. tells you to screenshot anything that's remotely embarrassing so he can send it into the svt gc.

BONUS ౨ৎ ───

MINWON: mingyu sees it first - you kicking your feet and giggling over something on your phone. completely speechless when you turn it around and he sees its a mingyu x wonwoo fanfic and you're thoroughly enjoying it. gives you a disgusted look and calls up wonwoo, who looks equally disgusted. the two avoid each other for the next two weeks because everytime they see each other they're reminded that their fans ship them.

VERNON!COLLEGE: confused af when he sees how many fanfics are about him as a college frat boy. rants to you cause he literally didn't even go to high school?? more confused when you explain he just has frat boy energy. ends up taking it as a compliment.

[mariclerc]

Pretty like a flower | cl16

Summary: where some social media comments open up old insecurities in you.

Warnings: fluff, sad reader, reassuring Charles, social media hate.

Dating Charles is a totally fantastic experience, on one hand you love traveling the world with him and having little memories together, or just spend a quiet day at home away from your jobs. But at the same time, there are bad things, such as the lack of privacy because there are super nosy people who are not the fans, people that think they can take pictures of you every now and then and the fans themselves like to talk too much, especially about you...

The way you met Charles was the sweetest and cutest way of all, you were working at a local flower shop and he came in to get some flowers to take to his mom to decorate her hair salon — a pretty sweet gesture in your opinion, so between some babbling and shy glances at the handsome man, you helped him get the right flowers for his mother. And so the days went by, every week he went to the flower shop to get flowers for his mother and he always asked for help from the shy girl who spent her time making beautiful flower arrangements. You had no idea who he was, partly you did know who he was since Monaco is very small, but you only knew that he was a famous race car driver and that was it.

When you started dating everything was super good, normally you don't upload many things to social media since you like to keep everything private, you only uploaded some of your flower arrangements to your Instagram and other cute little things. Fans started comparing you to their ex-girlfriends, especially Alex since they had a massive break up last year, they said that you posted the same things as her on Instagram and that you were copying her, or they even said that you were soon going to do like her and become an influencer and that you only wanted him for the fame and money he could give you. And honestly, you don't think that way, you really love Charles with all your heart, he is someone so precious and wonderful to you, and you know that he loves you with all his heart.

Right now you are in your shared apartment alone, reading comments made on a gossip page about a paparazzi photo taken of you and Charles on the beach last weekend, the comments are mixed but there is one constant: all the comments are about how your body looks... Most people say: "aww, she looks so basic, Alex looked way better than her!", "I don't know what Charles saw in her, she's nothing special." "Look at her, she has no butt or boobies, she's just a board!" And the list of comments goes on and on.

“Not this again... Why do they always have to criticize what I wear or how I look? I'm just living my life with the man I love...” you sighed and you walked through the closet, looking at some of your clothes. “My favorite clothes doesn't even fit anymore, they all feel wrong.” you looked with watery eyes at your reflection in the mirror, you're wearing a mismatched lingerie, tugging your little tummy roll and small bust. “I know I'm not a model... But does everything really have to be picked apart?” you say as you look down at your short legs and big thighs with slight hair growth, even the most normal and natural thing in the world seems totally imperfect to you.

You were so focused on your inner monologue that you didn't hear that Charles has opened the door.

“Darling, I'm home! Where are you, mon cœur?” he says calling you out (my heart)

You called back with a shaky voice. “I-I'm in the bedroom...”

He enters the room and sees you crying in your mismatched lingerie, concern washing over his face. “Oh no. What's wrong, my love? Come here, talk to me.” he gathers you gently into his arms.

You sobbed into his chest. “I'm... I'm sorry Charlie, I know I'm being silly but I just feel so insecure about myself lately. All these comments talking about my body, and comparing me with one of your ex's, saying I'm not pretty enough to be with you.” you whispered with trembling voice. “Even my own clothes don't feel right on me anymore... I guess I started wondering if you only settled for me because of my boring looks and body.” you finished, emptying all your thoughts.

Charles held you while he gently caressed your hair, he knew that those comments were going to explode in you at some point, from the beginning you were always honest with him about your insecurities about yourself, something that perhaps was not so present in you before, but now — and thanks to the comments, has resurfaced again.

“Shh, don't say that stuff princess. You are the most beautiful girl in the world to me, inside and out... Those people don't know us or how much we care for each other, all that matters is how you see yourself, and how I see you.” he wipes one of your tears.

You looked up at him. “But... What do you see in me? I'm not sexy and thin like models or I don't have a perfect tan like your ex... I have small boobs, big and hairy thighs and I have a tummy...” you were going to continue, but he subtly stops you.

“Stop that talk right now. You are beautiful and sexy to me in every way, I love every single inch of your gorgeous body - your mesmerizing eyes, your cute little button nose, your adorable smile. Your tummy? Is where I like to put my hand and stroke its softness when we're sleeping or taking a nap, your boobs are perfect for me, as is every soft curve.” he smiled shyly while blushing. “You're my ideal of beauty and I'm the luckiest man alive because your heart chose me... And I'm so in love with you and all of those little things that make you so unique.”

You sniffle a bit, starting to feel a little bit better. “Really? You truly think I'm beautiful just the way I am?” you asked softly.

“Oh, you're more than beautiful! You're a fiery, intelligent, compassionate queen and I fall deeper in love with you every day. The judgements of strangers mean nothing when I have your love... You are as precious and delicate as a flower, you know, blooming and growing under my touch.” he kisses your forehead and you blushed so much thanks to his words. “So dry those silly tears, mon amour, and let me show you how much you turn me on just by being yourself.” he kisses you tenderly. (my love)

You feel his words washing over you, because he's right, you should feel good in your own body and no matter how much you say you don't look good or whatever, he doesn't care because he loves you whether you've changed your style or not, because he's totally in love with you.

You kiss him back softly while your hands rest gently on his chest. “I love you so much Charlie! Thank you for always making me feel like the most special girl.”

He smiles. “You are very special to me, my darling. Never forget your worth, okay?”

As Charles gazed at you with heartfelt adoration, you suddenly became conscious of your state of dress and you blushed.

“I, um... I'm not exactly matching or covered right now... sorry.” you mumbled shyly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Charles gently took your hands, uncrossing them so he could place tender kisses to your knuckles. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about, mon amour. Please don't feel shy with me.” you bite your lip, still hesitant. Chuckling softly, Charles hooked a finger under your chin to lift your gaze to his. “You could be wearing a trash bag and still be the most beautiful sight to me... But, since you're so worried right now...”

Reaching behind himself, he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. You gazed at him, momentarily distracted by his perfectly sculpted bare torso.

Charles winked playfully. “There we go, now we match. Feel better?” His boyish grin made you giggle, easing some of the tension.

“Much.” you whispered softly, poking his ribs. His breathless chuckle sent flutters through your spine.

He looks at your figure with adoration. “Pink is definitely your color, but you know how do you look way better?” he asked and you shake your head. “Wearing nothing at all...” he whispered and you blushed so much at his teasing.

Slowly, your shy insecurities began melting away under his tender and caring gaze.

Charles' hands found your waist, rubbing soothing circles over the skin. “You take my breath away every time I look at you, ma chérie. So soft, feminine, sexy and all mine.” (my darling)

Leaning in, he gently nuzzled your neck, trailing light kisses that had you sighing. “Please don't ever think you're not gorgeous, because I ache to worship every single inch of you.”

His husky words and touch ignited a longing deep within you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pressed closer, relinquishing all shyness. Your eyes met, full of smoldering desire and promise of pleasurable distraction ahead.

Your lips met in a searing kiss as strong arms lifted you, carrying you to your shared bed where all that mattered was exploring each other in a sweet and gentle intimacy. Confident in his adoration, nothing could dim your light when you're in his loving embrace.

***

A few days had passed since Charles lovingly boosted your confidence and you were starting to feel more comfortable in your own skin again as you two planned to have a relaxing Saturday at home.

That afternoon, you tidied up around the apartment while clad in just mismatched lingerie and one of Charles' oversized shirts while he was doing some errands and buying some groceries. Lost in your house tasks, you hasn't heard the front door open.

“Darling, I'm ba-” Charles started to call out before stopping short at the sight before him, you froze as well, your face flushing under his admiring gaze. His eyes slowly roamed your figure, heated with desire and appreciation for you. “Oh, mon dieu, you take my breath away, baby.” he uttered softly. (my god)

Striding over, Charles pinned you gently against the counter with his taller form and you gazed up at him shyly through your lashes. “H-Hello...” you say softly.

Charles caressed your cheek smoothly, smiling down at you with heartstopping tenderness.

“Look at you petite fleur, so radiantly beautiful in just this... I feel like the luckiest man alive.” he smiles and leans in, he began feathering kisses along your neck that had you melting. “I knew that wicked outfit served another purpose beyond laundry day.” you giggled. (little flower)

His words, coupled with how reverently his hands roamed your curves, sent desire pooling low. All traces of shyness evaporated under his loving worship.

“How do you do that?” you breathed, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him close. “You know... Make me feel like the most special woman alive?”

Charles met your eyes intensely. “Because to me, that is what you are - my queen, my everything. And I will spend every day showing you just how much you mean to me.”

Pulling you flush against him, you two kissed deeply and slowly, savoring each sensation. In his passionate embrace, you knew no other place you belonged more than by his side, in the spotlight of his beautiful devotion.

Charles' tender words and loving gaze never failed to make you blush like a schoolgirl. You shyly ducked your head against his chest, overwhelmed by the passion and devotion in his eyes.

“You always say the nicest things.” you mumbled shyly, playing with the hem of his shirt. His affection still caught you off guard at times, even after all this time together.

Charles lifted your chin, thumbs gently brushing over your flushed cheeks. “And I mean every single little word, ma chérie.” (my darling)

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that had you melting. Pulling back slightly, your foreheads remained pressed together as Charles simply gazed at you with endless tenderness.

“How is it that after all this time, you continue to take my breath away?” he breathed, caressing your cheek softly.

You just shrugged, embarrassed. “I don't know, I'm just me...”

“Exactly!” Charles smiled. “You're you - compassionate, beautiful, sweet, and so strong. I fall more in love with you every second of every day... You deserve to see yourself the way I see you.”

His honeyed words had you fighting back happy tears. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clinged to Charles in a tight embrace, overwhelmed by the depths of his love and care.

He held you just as close, gently rubbing your back and peppering your hair with tender kisses. “I love you so much, mon coeur. Never forget how amazing and cherished you are to me.” (my heart)

Suddenly you pulled him close to you again, you kissed him languidly, pouring every ounce of gratitude and affection into the intimate gesture.

Charles responded in kind, holding you reverently against his body. Lost in each other, you two became so enraptured that the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

All too soon, oxygen became a necessity. Breathless and flushed, you rested your foreheads together, smiling softly at one another.

You whispered. “I could stay like this forever in your arms.” you sighed contentedly and Charles nuzzled your cheek sweetly.

He smiled. “Well, then let us make a life filled with these kinds of moments, mon bébé.” he declared with quiet conviction. (my baby)

Your breath caught at the promise in his tone. Gazing deep into his eyes, you saw your future stretching ahead - a future of partnership, passion and being cherished each and every day by this beautiful soul.

Overcome, you pulled him once again into an embrace, clinging tightly as happy tears welled. In that perfect moment, all felt right in your own world wrapped in love's sheltering wings.

In the solace and security of his embrace, he slowly but surely continued renewing your self esteem each and every day. You truly feel like the luckiest girl to receive such devoted affection from your soulmate.

[blackmoonoracle]

PAC - LOVE UPDATES & ADVICE

For singles & those in relationships/situations

PILE ONE

SINGLES:

You may have someone interested in you that doesn't know how to approach you romantically! It seems like a secret admirer, someone who watches from afar. For some of you this could be someone a bit older than you, it could also be a coworker or boss! It feels like there's a lot of admiration and nurturing energy coming from this individual. They may see you as very hardworking and possibly even unfairly self critical? This is definitely a huge secret, I see that this person WANTS to come forward but feels nervous to do so. Almost like they may be very shy? This is definitely earthy energy here. I also heard "capricorn & aquarius" so even if they're an air sign or some other sign they have earthy qualities to their character. This is an individual who may also have not so good self esteem. They may also be a late bloomer of sorts? Even if they are older it could be that this person has a deeply private nature. I also heard perverse. LOOOL. wild.

If you know who this is and feel the same way, I feel like you are very irritated just waiting and waiting. I'm not saying they won't come, however I am saying- that this individual may never have the inner strength to approach you. Be unapologetically expressive, if you feel the need to say something and you feel comfortable doing so then say it. If you feel like you're tired of waiting and vague back and forth flirting walk away girl! You deserve to have someone with enough inner strength to just approach you and make you feel like a prize! If you're the masculine, or brooding earthy energy reading this! Then you absolutely need to make a move. Stop worrying about whether you're good enough, rejection is part of life. If you end up being rejected then it is what it is. You live and let live, it is not the end of the world! You will regret having never taken action. Don't live in this isolated bubble forever.

TAKEN/SITUATION:

There is a need for some introspection in this pile! I'm not seeing anything bad, I'm just seeing that communication is super important and that you may struggle with it. I see here where there is an intention and desire to communicate, but I also see where there's a lot of mental anxiety regarding communication. I keep hearing something about picking yourself apart. I feel like there's a lot of really intense self criticism here. Which is also something I picked up for the singles in pile one. So that's an interesting consistency. Anyways, it's important for you to maybe be more relaxed in this connection. Not everything needs to be so deep, and you don't have to be so harsh on yourself. However, you absolutely are learning how to communicate more effectively. There needs to be more practical application of the thoughts and ideas you have. Like actually putting what you think and what you feel out there to be examined by the other party. It seems like you feel like you're above your own emotions? smfh, if I could roll my eyes at you I would. I promise you no one is above their own emotions. It looks like you need to work on a tendency to emotionally repress. All of this internal conflict you experience literally can be solved by communicating openly. I feel that there is a sense of arrogance regarding communicating emotions. Like you just don't know how to comfortably do it without feeling disgustingly vulnerable almost. It's like you just want to remove yourself from that state of being. If you just open up there will be a lot more success in your relationships of all kinds I'm seeing. Business, Romantic, Friendship. Etcetera.

PILE TWO

SINGLES:

Okay, we have 2 separate messages here for you guys.

So, some of you are manifesting your perfect person. Others are in a state of limerence. So, let's see, I'm gonna start with the manifestors. I'm seeing here that you have kind of pulled back, and pulled in all of your energy from an individual who seemed to be taking it all up and wasting your time. GOOD for you. I'm proud of you. So, it seems in my opinion that you are in a deep state of manifesting your desires and focusing on yourself and what you truly desire in life. Now, for the flip side. You guys are in deluluville, take a step back and ask yourself if you are putting this person on a pedestal to fill a void. What can you do right now to come back to yourself and feel more connected with your needs. Have you spent time with friends recently? Done any pampering self care? These things might be able to help you feel more secure and pull you out of that state of projection. I'm seeing that the advice for both piles here is to get out of this dreamy energy and start showing up in your physical life. Manifestation is great, but if you're not taking physical action how are your manifestations going to come to fruition?

You're being asked to be present in the world around you, and to remove yourself from this constant state of daydreaming!

TAKEN/SITUATION:

I feel like you need to have more confidence in yourself and in your connection! This is honestly a really positive message, I feel like you need to spend more time honestly focusing on you? Developing yourself, allowing things to unfold for you. Have more faith and confidence.

You may be exploring something you've never experienced before. Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty and really explore what's going on around you right now. Be more secure in knowing this is an actual solid situation, I feel like you are feeling restless somehow. Try to get to the root of that, understand what is causing you to feel so uncomfortable and confront it. I feel like you may be feeling frustrated because you're trying to reach something. Like maybe you feel distant from your person and it is causing a lot of friction? I feel like, you need to just relax a bit. You will get your desires! There is a truly solid foundation here, and everything will truly be okay. <3

PILE THREE

SINGLES:

ngl, I feel like a lot of y'all are either fixated on one person or like this super idealized idea of intimacy and romance and I honestly feel like its kind of unfair? I feel like there may also be a specific person who is interested in you that you're just NOT feeling. Right now is a really good time to focus on building yourself and your stability up. I feel that honestly a lot of you are just a bit stuck up at times? There's not really a huge message here. It seems like nothing is really good enough for y'all, which is fine like you're allowed to desire whatever you desire. At some point though you might want to ask yourself if you're lacking gratitude for what you DO have. If you're feeling bored, or like nothing is really fulfilling you perhaps it's time for you to find new hobbies and interests. It seems like maybe y'all aren't even interested in love rn? Which has me like why are y'all even reading this LOLOLOL. Regardless, I wish you all well! TAKEN/SITUATION:

I see that you guys may be in a brand new connection! omgggg, it looks like there's a lot of mystery surrounding how this might unfold. I feel like this might be a talking stage on the verge of becoming official, or possibly you just met someone that you have a very intense connection with. I feel like some of you could be younger, perhaps your family is not comfortable with you dating? So I'm seeing that this connection might be secret. I feel like you're being told that it will be okay and you will be able to let this circumstance come to actual fruition. Just know how to keep your situations separate and private so that your family isn't in your business. I'm also seeing something about love notes or love letters. So maybe you should write your person a letter confessing how you feel! Sorry this is so short pile 3 <3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Pocky game w/ various HH characters part 2/3

Idk if it's because I'm kind of.. bluugh.. but I'm craving eggs on toast rn but I cant tell if its because I actually want it or because my body is aware it's a comfort/easy/struggle food idk how body/mental stuff works

Characters: lucifer, adam, lute, emily, velvette, rosie

Notes: reader is gn, bonus hcs of what flavors i think the characters would like except the admin has one tried the og and C&C

CWs: none

LUCIFER

knows about the game vaguely, has never played it but hes very open to it if you offer and the two of you are already an item

though he will reject you if you two arent, even if hes already crushing on you. he DOES want to do it but i do think hes a little wary about anything like that that can lead to anything romantic or otherwise due to him still eating up his feelings over lilith

total sweet tooth just like his daughter, can see him being an almond crunch enjoyer!

when he does agree he does his best to make sure you get just as much of the pocky as him, very careful when kissing you because hes hyperaware of his teeth and the sound of them crunching and totally breaking the pocky has him a little on edge

but asides from that he has a lot of fun with it! too... "shy"(?) to ask to do it again, though

shy is likely not the right word... he wants to do it again but he doesnt want to make you feel obligated and hes still a little weird about asking for affection from you due to other feelings

ADAM

does not know the game but hes on board if you offer it up and explain what it is

not very picky about flavors but i can see him enjoying the original a lot more over the others!

total tease through the whole thing, will try to fully lean into a kiss if you let him

like other characters will probably just give you a short light hearted peck, but adam is very likely to give you something a little more if you let him

god forbid if you get some chocolate or crumbs on your face because he WILL do something

loves it if you get all red and flustered

LUTE

she doesnt really like sweets, but she is open to trying it with you if the two of you are already dating. very unlikely for her to agree if you two arent

does NOT know what to expect so you might have to explain what the game is so she knows what shes agreeing to

very competitive, tears through her half and probably dives into your half before you can realize whats going on

kind of crashes into your mouth a bit because shes so into it, doesnt mean to be so rough with you

pulls away very fast when she realizes what she just did, do not tease her about it because she will think youre genuinely criticizing her

can see her being a cookies n creme enjoyer if she were to ever crave the treat

EMILY

knows what the game is and loooooooves it! she thinks its sweet! pun intended!

agrees instantly if you offer it up, but shes likely to ask to play the game with you if she ever gets her hands on a box of pocky!

very giddy, keeps accidentally breaking the stick because shes just so into it, you guys have to keep starting over

quick little peck at the and and she feels so proud of herself for getting a little kiss from you- dont expect much else, though, the second the kiss happens shes pulling back and letting her energy out.. shes more controlled if you two are well into your relationship

cookies n creme enjoyer but i can see her liking matcha!

VELVETTE

hands down she is a crunchy strawberry enjoyer im sorry i dont make the rules. i think she might the cookies n creme flavor as well!

knows exactly what the game is, she spends a lot of time on the internet monitoring trends that shes seen it

not at all shy about it either, she knows what shes getting into and shes not going to let herself look like some flustered wreck- doesnt matter if you two are dating yet or not, shes going to stride in with pride

will tease you if you get embarrassed, bonus if youre the one who even suggested the game- she does this even if youre dating. actually shes more likely to do it if youre dating

similar to vaggie in the previous part, shes not going to go too fast so she doesnt look too eager... actually i can see her take her time just to toy with you

ROSIE

she may be a cannibal but i can see her having a bit of a sweet tooth! she just doesnt indulge in... actual proper sweets all that much!

not aware of the game but is open after you explain it to her, shes not easy to fluster so shes going to be very composed and collected during the game

if youre the opposite though, its going to encourage her to take the lead

quick and polite kiss, makes sure not to let her teeth cut you up... theres a time and a place for that but this is not the time OR place!

lets you have the rest of the box if you'd like, though she doesnt deny any extra pieces you give to her

teases you for getting so flustered over a game you suggested, but she doesnt mean any harm behind it

strawberry enjoyer but i can see her liking the matcha and the almond crunch