#also just in case it’s not clear this is me making it up it’s for humor

[gf2bellamy]

okay bc tell me why i’m also in that hotch obsession phase.. if u don’t mind writing recs for him — hear me out: both lawyer!reader and his’ stubborn asses having an argument and you start setting up to sleep in the guest room or on the couch and hotch is just like what are u doing??

stubborn — aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: lawyer!reader , argument, reader is mad at hotch , a/n: hii !! i havent written for hotch in ages sooo forgive me if this isn't good

“Okay, I’m done talking about this.” You stood abruptly from the kitchen table, both hands raised in surrender—not the calm kind. The kind that came after a long, thankless day and a disappointment too many.

Aaron stayed seated for a second, then pushed back his chair and followed you out of the kitchen. But you didn’t look back as you walked away, your socked feet padding softly against the hardwood.

"No," he said, following you into the hallway. "We need to talk about this."

“Aaron, I get it,” you snapped, not looking back. “You’re too busy to come.” You didn’t sound like you “got it” at all.

This was supposed to be something—a major trial, and you’d asked, just once, if he could be there. You’d seen him hesitate earlier, mumbling about the BAU’s schedule and not being sure it would work out.

Between your clients snapping at you, case files mysteriously vanishing from your desk, and the scalding coffee that had spilled down your blouse in the courthouse lobby, you were at your limit. And Hotch’s hesitation—his quiet, infuriating "I’m not sure if it’ll work with work"—had been the tipping point.

“I’ll try to make it,” he offered quietly behind you. His hand settled on your shoulder.

You didn’t even hesitate. Your shoulder shifted just enough to let his hand fall away as you walked into the bathroom. The overhead light flicked on. You avoided looking at him directly, reaching up instead to remove the clips from your hair with trembling fingers.

Click. One pin. Click. Another. Each clink against the porcelain sink echoed louder than it should have.

When your eyes finally found his in the mirror, your voice was soft—but the chill in it was unmistakable.

“Don’t worry about it, Aaron. I'll manage just fine on my own.”

Behind you, Hotch watched you in the mirror. His jaw was tight, his dark eyes searching yours. But you didn’t turn around.

The way you said his name made his expression flicker. He knew what it meant. Knew that when you repeated it like that, when your tone went flat and cool, forgiveness wasn’t on the table. Not yet.

His hand, still hovering where you’d shaken him off, finally dropped to his side.

You took your time unraveling the mess of your hair, fingers dragging through the strands with deliberate slowness. ( Something he usually did for you. )

The bathroom light buzzed softly, filling the silence. In the doorway, Aaron lingered. You could see him in the mirror—arms crossed, brows slightly drawn, trying to find the right words. But you didn’t give him the chance.

“I’m going to take a shower now,” you said, calm but cold—your tone clear enough that it wasn’t just about hygiene. It was a dismissal.

He hesitated for a beat, as if trying to decide whether to push further or retreat. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

You shut the door with a soft click and leaned back against it, releasing a slow breath. The weight of your own frustration settled on your chest. You knew you were being petty. You could admit that much to yourself.

Aaron had come to every single one of your trials—without fail. Sat in the back row, out of the way, sometimes still in his dress shirt and tie from work. He always gave you that same look when it was over: proud, warm, a touch of awe in his eyes. And then the hug—God, the way his arms wrapped around you afterward made the chaos of the courtroom melt away.

This was the first time he couldn’t make it. And, of course, it had to be this trial—your biggest one yet. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but the thought of looking up and not seeing him there, not catching that faint smile of his across the room, hurt. A lot.

The shower helped a little. The hot water washed away the day’s tension, but not the sting under your skin.

When you stepped out and reached for your clothes, you realized with a sigh that the only things left in the bathroom were your favorite black shorts… and Aaron’s shirt, slung over the towel rack.

The one he’d worn last weekend, the one that still carried the faintest trace of his cologne.

You hesitated, jaw tightening. Then, with a frustrated sigh, you yanked it over your head.

You hated that it made you feel better.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, the apartment was quiet. The lights were off in most of the rooms, bathed instead in the faint moonlight filtering through the windows.

You paused near the kitchen.

Even in the dim light, you could see the dishes had been washed and the counters wiped clean. The plate of food you hadn’t finished—because you were too upset to eat—was neatly packed away in the fridge. Aaron had done it, without saying a word. You felt a small pang of guilt tug at your chest.

But then your mind circled back to the trial. To that awful, hollow feeling of imagining the courtroom without him in it.

Just like that, the guilt was overtaken by that sharp ache again. You didn’t want to feel it. You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to hear reasonable explanations or I’ll try my best or you know how the job is.

So, you did the one thing your stubborn, exhausted mind told you to do.

You walked into the bedroom, still wearing his shirt, where Aaron sat on the edge of the bed, a file open in his hands. He looked up the second you entered. His eyes flicked over you—shirt, damp hair, tired expression—and then back to your arms, where you were gathering a spare pillow and blanket.

He set the file aside instantly.

“What are you doing?” he asked, brows drawing together as he stood slowly.

“Getting ready for bed,” you mumbled without meeting his eyes, fussing with the blanket as you tucked it under your arm and turned away.

You didn’t have to say anything else. You didn’t need to. He followed you out into the hallway.

“You’re sleeping on the couch?” he asked, voice low but tinged with concern.

“Yes.”

You dropped the pillow onto the couch, smoothing the blanket over the cushions with more force than necessary. Your back was turned to him.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said gently from behind you, stepping closer until he was just a few feet away.

You didn’t reply. Instead, you lowered yourself onto the couch, still avoiding his eyes, your fingers tugging absently at the edge of the blanket.

“I’m going to try and make it,” he said. “I only brought it up because I didn’t want to promise something and let you down. But sweetheart… I swear I’ll try.”

The sound of him crouching in front of you made you finally glance up. He was kneeling now, trying to meet your gaze, his voice laced with sincerity. You pouted just slightly—more from emotional exhaustion than actual defiance—and he took that as permission to rest his hands gently on your knees.

“I don’t want you sleeping out here,” he murmured, thumbs beginning to draw slow circles over the fabric of your shorts.

You didn’t say anything at first. 

“I just like having you there in court,” you mumbled eventually, voice barely above a whisper. You were looking at his hands, not his eyes, but the words were honest.

His expression softened instantly. The crease between his brows eased, his shoulders dropping just slightly.

"I like being there too," he admitted, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. His thumb resumed its gentle circles on your knee. "And I know this is a big trial for you."

A involuntary shiver ran through you at the reminder, your fingers tightening slightly in the fabric of your shorts.

"I was reading about it and-"

"You read about it?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them, your eyes widening slightly in surprise.

That tiny flicker of eye contact made his smile grow. 

“What do you think I was doing in the bedroom just now?” he asked, tilting his head. There was a trace of smugness in his tone.

"Oh." The single syllable escaped in a breathy exhale as you felt some of the weight lift from your chest. Without realizing it, your shoulders relaxed slightly, the rigid line of your spine softening. His hands felt warmer now where they rested against your skin, the earlier anger ebbing away.

“But like I said,” Aaron murmured, continuing those slow, soothing circles against your knees. The muscles in his legs protested from crouching so long, but he gave no indication of discomfort beyond the faint tightening of his jaw. “I will try to make it.”

You shifted slightly at his words, your pout threatening to return—but before it could fully form, he gently pressed a finger to your bottom lip.

“Hey,” he said softly, eyes intent on yours. “I know you’re going to do amazing. Just like you always do.”

His hand moved tenderly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. You leaned into the touch almost instinctively, your cheek resting in his warm, calloused palm. Your eyes fluttered shut at the familiar comfort of it, at how easily he could melt you without even trying.

Taking your silence as a cue, he leaned in just a little and whispered, “Please come to bed.”

You didn’t answer right away. The emotional fog hadn’t entirely lifted, but it had lightened. You exhaled, a soft, resigned sigh escaping your lips.

“Fine.” You grumbled, but there was no bite left in your voice.

Aaron smiled—just a small one—and let out a breath of relief, standing up slowly and offering you his hand. You took it, and in one gentle pull, he brought you to your feet and into his arms.

The relief was immediate - both in the way his shoulders relaxed and the quiet exhale he released as he finally straightened his protesting legs. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt instinctively.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

"You should be," you muttered into the soft cotton of his shirt, your words muffled but your meaning clear. The vibration of his quiet laughter rumbled through his chest, and you felt the curve of his smile against your hair.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" His lips brushed your crown once more before he reluctantly loosened his hold, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours as he guided you toward the bedroom, taking your blanket and pillow with him.

You offered a half-hearted shrug but let him lead, your resistance fading with each step. The moment your legs brushed against the mattress, he drew you back into him, your body molding perfectly against his as if you were made to fit there.

"And you also can't hold grudges," he teased, his fingers idly tracing the seam of his shirt where it stretched across your shoulder.

"Hey!" You lifted your head sharply, only to have it gently pressed back into place by his hand. "That wasn't intentional - it was the only thing in the bathroom," you protested, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way you instinctively nuzzled closer.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he hummed, the words laced with amused disbelief as his palm smoothed down your back in slow, comforting circles.

The sheets rustled as he shifted, one hand sliding beneath the hem of the shirt—his shirt—to press against the small of your back.

"You’re still mad," he observed, though his voice held amusement.

"Mm. Maybe." You curled closer, your lips grazing his collarbone.

A pause.

"You know," he murmured, his voice a low rumble you felt more than heard, "I was thinking of sitting in the front row this time." His thumb brushed a particularly sensitive spot between your shoulder blades, drawing an involuntary shiver. "That way you can't miss me when you're tearing the prosecution's case apart."

You tilted your head just enough to peer up at him through your lashes. "Front row? You never sit in the front row."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his hand came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "For this case? I'd sit on the witness stand if it meant seeing that fire in your eyes when you cross-examine."

[sakuravalenp]

Don't eat anything else - Part 3 - DP X DC

Previous part

Masterpost

Sam had somehow fallen asleep after hours of rolling in her bed, so of course, when her phone started ringing, she was just about ready to send the thing flying across the room. She covered her ears with her pillow, hoping the thing would shut up soon enough, and cursed her past self for leaving the phone in her desk instead of plugging it to the socket that was just behind her bed. She could have already shut the thing off then, but no, she’ll have to get out of bed to do it. She was going to maul whoever decided it was a good idea to call in the middle of the night.

With a resigned huff, she got out of bed and went to the desk, stumbling over the chair because of course she hadn’t pushed it back into the space the desk left for it, and snatched the phone roughly, pulling the charger and making her pencil case fall off the desk. The clattering sounds let her know she had also left that open. She groans, and squints at her phone screen, her eyes complaining at the sudden light, she takes a look at the insistent caller: Tucker. She answers while letting herself fall into the chair.

“Tucker, it’s like two am. You better be dying, or I swear to the ancients I’m throwing your beloved PDA into a natural portal to never be seen again!”

“Check the Phantom chat.” Sam blinked. She was expecting some sort of dramatic response. Then her mind caught up to what her friend had just asked.

“Did Danny text anything!?” The call was already being placed on speaker as she took her phone off her ear and started looking for their chat server.

“You’ll have to check yourself, it’s a full text wall, I’ve just read like- the first paragraph. Just- check it out and call me back when you’ve read it all.”

Sam frowned at the beep of the call being ended. She had never hated so much that their server took so long to load. She understood why; a hidden server that went through the infinite realms? Tucker was a genius for creating it. Still, in times like this the waiting was excruciating.

Danny didn’t tell them anything about his life with Vlad. She would say it screamed red flags, but it was Vlad. The moment the man had gotten custody of Danny all the fire alarms were going off in Sam’s head, and they hadn’t stopped since.

They tried not to push much at the start. The Fentons and Jazz’s death was too fresh, so they just checked in, asking how things were going, trying not to prod. But weeks turned to months, and they hadn’t been able to see Danny, and he was not telling them anything.

They had been keeping tabs of what they could get. Danny checked in at least once a day, until he didn’t. There would be days without response, and then Danny would check in again with some vague excuse. When that became common enough, Danny stopped making up excuses and just directly checking in without explaining the absence.

His texts were useless to understand his situation, other than he was well enough to text them, so their next focus was his public appearance. There weren’t a lot of those, but they would be happy with any scraps they could get. 

Vlad had taken Danny to more than a couple of galas and some political events, proudly flaunting his heir, and yet, there were barely any photos of Danny at said events. It was up in the air whether it was due to Vlad avoiding the pictures getting out or due to how difficult it was to get a clear photo of Danny.

Nevertheless, the few pictures they did get weren’t great. He looked emaciated, lost so much weight, lost any brightness in his eyes. Still, Sam had almost cried from relief the first time they got a picture. The mind can be cruel when there's nothing to hold it back, and Sam had about a thousand terrible thoughts of what Vlad could be doing to Danny. At least he was in one piece. 

Her phone vibrated, letting her know the server had finally loaded. There was a bubble beside the Phantom group chat letting her know there were new texts. She pressed on the group chat and was indeed greeted by a wall of text. She scrolled back to find the beginning.

Hey guys, you’ll probably won’t see this until tomorrow but I needed to write this right away before I started doubting. Not that that’s really a choice at this point, not when the Waynes already left with those notes.

The Waynes? Oh, yeah, Danny had mentioned Vlad had invited them to dinner once. First visitors they would be getting. Sam had idly wondered if she would have gotten a chance to see Danny if her parents were more influential. She had never wished for her parents to be richer before. 

So anyway, the Waynes visiting kind of changed things here a bit. I may not have been really honest about how things were going here with Vlad. Though, you probably already knew that, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can tell you guys. I just don’t think I can get myself to tell you, and I’m so sorry, because you’re always there and deserve the truth, but I can’t. So, let’s just leave as things hadn’t been great, and Vlad was more of a monster than we ever thought he could be. 

Sam didn’t like that, it was terribly vague. What had Vlad done to Danny that he didn’t feel he could tell them? Sure they had been dealing with Danny’s silence, but now he was straight up telling them he couldn’t get himself to talk about it. The fact that he couldn’t even explain what Vlad had done meant it was probably worse than what she imagined.

They’d faced their fair share of horrors over the years while combating the rogues, and there had never been a problem verbalizing it. Something horrible had happened. Sam was going to kill Vlad. She didn’t care what the full story was, if it was bad enough that Danny actively refused to tell them, it was bad enough to revoke Vlad’s right to existence. 

The thing is, I can’t keep this up. The Wayne’s came in, and Vlad's plans for dinner made me realize I couldn’t let this keep going. I managed to sneak a note to Timothy Drake-Wayne. Everyone knows the Waynes have connections to the Justice league.

Sam frowned. The Justice League had been shining for their absence from everything involving Amity. That absence still burned like acid. They’d begged for help. Pleaded. Amity had become a warzone more than once, and no one had come. Would they really show up just because the Waynes got involved?

I know they hadn’t been answering our calls, but now it affected the Waynes. Again, I can’t explain how it affected them, but I’m pretty sure the Waynes will make sure the Justice League gets involved. I had to tell them that Vlad isn’t human. It would only end in an apocalypse if they came looking for Vlad without being prepared. They’ll look for you guys. I told them you had the means to combat him. 

Oh shit. Was she really meeting with the Justice League? In friendly terms? After all the ignored calls, Sam had swore it would be on sight if she ever met the assholes. And if they really showed up just because the Waynes were the ones to call, Sam wasn’t sure if she could keep it civil.

I didn’t reveal myself to the Waynes, I don’t know what the Justice League stand on ghosts is, all this is already a big risk, the GIW are bad enough on their own, there’s no way we would survive the Justice League hunting us, but Vlad needs to be stopped. I need you guys to give them what they need to not be possessed, and the ectoguns that I modified, maybe an ectoshield. Nothing more, they have a good history with non-humans, but I don’t know if we can trust them to not start a hunting campaign after Vlad. Try making it clear that this is a Vlad problem, not a ghost problem. I’m sorry I’m leaving everything to you guys, I can’t do anything from this side.

Her breath trembled. If the Waynes were really able to convince the Justice league to finally intervene, they might have days. She and Tucker needed to prep everything.

Ghost attacks had become rare since the portal was destroyed, but sometimes ghosts still came through naturally forming ones. There couldn’t be a ghost attack while the Justice League was there. Not when they needed to convince them that Vlad was the exception, not the rule.

They needed to get the gear and figure out how to lie to the Justice League convincingly enough that they wouldn’t turn every ghost into collateral damage.

Because Vlad might be the monster. But the League could still be the executioners.

Still, despite all the anxiety running through her veins, Sam felt hopeful. Danny had reached for help, after months of silence he had finally reached for help, and for once there seemed to be a chance they'd see Danny again. 

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

They couldn’t continue reading the paper right away. There was no way to do it. Cass was more sensitive to people's deaths than anyone else in her family, and Bruce had focused on supporting her so he wouldn’t have to think about what he had just eaten. He had helped Cass to the bathroom like he hadn’t vomited as well. Tim had mumbled something about needing a shower, a really long shower, and left. Jason had forgotten the pretender had been bathed in that cursed soup.

He did think about taking the paper and finishing reading it himself, but green edged his vision, rage bursting under the skin, and he needed an outlet, which he didn’t have here. The punch he had thrown onto the wall had already left a mark, and this was a house they rented as Waynes, he couldn’t just trash it all.

He had worked through some breathing exercises Dick had introduced to him. He’ll never tell Dick, but they did work somewhat. It wasn’t really a surprise, Jason knew Dick had anger issues. The bastard seemed like the perfect young adult holding it together these days, but Jason was there for his teenage rebellion, and that was supposedly an improvement from how he had been as Robin. So of course the breathing exercises helped, but it wasn’t enough.

He felt like giving the wall another punch from the frustration, but he had been trying to “redirect his anger” in less violent ways lately, and this was the kind of situation where it would be better to clear his head instead of exploding. He could save the explosion for when they had that reprobate on their hands. 

His phone was pinging and Jason knew it was probably the rest of the family asking for an update. The sudden silence probably got them worried the supposed poison had been something serious, and as the only one in commission at the moment, he should be the one reporting, but he was pretty sure he would crack his phone if he used it right then. His helmet took his attention where it resided on the desk, and he made a decision.

You’re not supposed to ride while you're angry, that’s how accidents happen, but that didn’t apply to people like him. Red Hood spent most of the night in his motorcycle while absolutely furious; they knew how to ride without becoming a public safety issue. 

He grabbed his helmet and screamed before putting it on. “You better don’t read the damn note before I’m back!” And then he was on the road once again. 

He rode around the small city, making the same circle over and over again at maximum speed. Harsh changes in direction that made the adrenaline pump in his veins. It was a good outlet. At some point the green receded enough for him to think clearer. He lowered the speed a bit, and connected his helmet to the comms. The questioning screams from everyone on comms came instantly.

“Shut the fuck up. I can’t understand a single thing you are saying.” As expected, that didn’t have any effect, but a minute later the line went dead silent. Babs must have muted everyone's lines. 

“Hood, what’s the situation? Did the antidote work without problem?” Babs asked.

Jason almost laughed. Antidote. They wished it had just been some stupid poison. “It wasn’t poison, or drugs, Batman and Orphan are… physically fine.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jason could hear the crackle of a line joining the comms again. “What does that mean Todd?” Damian finally asked.

Jason could feel the rage try to creep back at the thought of what really was in the food, he pushed it back. He didn’t want to really talk about what really was in the food. Another crackle. “Little wing? What was in the food?” 

Jason sighed. Why should he be the only one in commission to report back? No, he was glad to not have been anywhere close to that hideous concoction that didn’t have a right to be called food. He turned the speed back up.

“Apparently, Vlad Masters is a cannibal. One in the habit of sharing his taste with others.” The silence in the other line was about what he expected, so was the new explosion of voices that came afterward. 

Yeah, no. Report given. They could deal with the news themselves. Jason disconnected from comms and started riding back to the house. Checking the time on the edge of his helmet screen, he saw he had been riding for quite some time. How has two hours already passed? 

He left the motorcycle in the garage. There was no one there, so Jason wandered inside. He found Tim was sitting on the sofa with his laptop in the living room, the note folded beside him. Bruce sat on a chair beside him still looking pained. Jason talked from the door.

“Did you actually wait for me?”

Tim shrugged and without taking his eye off. “Figured it would be better to read once we were all here.”

“Where’s Cass?” He asked, walking to the opposite side of the couch.

“She asked to be filled in later.” Bruce answered. “It’s better we read the rest of the note already. I can’t imagine what else Danny would like us to know.”

Tim sighed, like someone had asked him to be the one to read the letter instead of him being the one to take it upon himself. He took the note, unfolding it again, and Jason could see he was making an effort to ignore the first line.

“I don’t know who the victims are, or where Vlad gets them, but they’re recently deceased. So somewhere there must be people disappearing constantly. It may not be the same place all the time, or it may not even be the same city. Vlad isn’t human.”

“Fucking great. Just what we were missing. What is it this time? A vampire? He definitely has the aesthetic going for him.” The pretender glared at him for the interruption, but Jason thinks the situation fully justifies his reaction.

Bruce sighed. “Language. Please, go on, Tim.”

“He’s a kind of ghost.” Tim raised an eyebrow but continued reading. “I know it may be hard to believe for outsiders, but ghosts are pretty much a common occurrence in Amity Park.”

“I thought that was just a tourist trap.” Jason commented, which gained him another glare from Tim. Jason didn’t bother to acknowledge it, though, inside, he was quite enjoying getting the little shit annoyed.

Tim huffed, and lowered the note a bit before commenting. “There are quite a few claims of ghost sightings, but we couldn’t find any proof of them when we took a look at Amity while searching for a house to rent.” He turned to the computer and started typing something.

“Even then, those reports were not of great importance, mentions of seeing a figure for a couple a seconds in the corner of a room, of a shadow following them around the city, or a pale little kid running around in the cemetery.” Bruce added. “The whole city works around the theme.The biggest school is called Casper High, and most attractions are named after ghost-related puns. We concluded it was, in fact, a tourist trap.”

“So what, the kid is imagining his guardian isn’t human? Making things up to cope with the fact that he is a cannibal? That-”

“Um. Bruce, you might want to see this.” Tim interrupted him.

His eyes were wide, scanning quickly through a webpage. Jason moved close to see the screen, and so did Bruce, standing up from his chair to lean over the back of the sofa. Tim started reading titles while he passed the mouse over them. 

“Octo-Ghost Assists Kindergarten Party and Almost Becomes The Birthday Girl's Pet. First Ghost Attack of the Week in Casper High, Red huntress Captures It Before It Can Disrupt Class. Ghost Known as Lunch Lady Visits Local Restaurant and Asks for a Cooking Battle With the Owner: See the Unexpected Results. Don’t You Miss When Ghosts Would Interrupt Class at Least Once a Day? A ranting blog by Phan_number1. None of this existed when we were checking Amity!”

“How is that even possible? The Batcomputer should have pinged something if there was anything blocking the information,” Bruce says in what sounded like a monotone voice, but any of his kids could tell he’s alarmed by the fact that so much information was successfully hidden from the Batcomputer. “Try sending a link to Babs.”

Tim goes ahead to do that with the ranting blog, but honestly, Jason couldn’t care less if the oh-so-great Batcomputer missed this.

“So the kid isn’t making things up, great. Can you both have your freak-out about the information blockage after we finish reading the note?” If Tim were a super, Jason would have a hole on his front, he’s sure of it.

Babs: Why are you sending me a recipe for making ghost-themed pie?

Tim looks at the message in disbelief, and clicks on the link he had sent. The ranting blog opens, no pie recipe to be seen. Tim takes a screenshot and tries sending it, but a warning message appears, saying the file is corrupted. He tries to send an image of his gallery, it goes without any problems.

“This is weird. It’s not like any kind of blockage we had seen before. It even redirects links to a page that matches the city's theme.”

“Try sending the image through the Bat server.” Bruce says with a voice that it was more serious than Jason expected, which makes him glance back at the man. 

Bruce is glaring at the computer with a dark expression. Realization hits Tim, and he quickly tries to send the image through the Bat server. It goes through, and even Jason feels relieved at the received checkmark. 

“Okay… okay. So they’re monitoring private conversations, but the Bat server is still safe.” Tim murmurs. Then goes ahead and tries sending the link once more, with a message saying it should open the website shown in the image. 

Oracle: All that link opens is the pie recipe Red Robin. If this is some kind of joke, you know the Bat server is not for that.

Tim rolls his eyes at the response and starts writing down a response, explaining the situation to Babs.

“The link must be blocked by IP Address. Tell her to try using a residential proxy.”

“Already on it.”

Jason hates when the old man understands more about technology than he does. Damn his time in the grave. He had been working on getting up to date, and he can do some basic hacking and whatnot. Enough that he doesn’t need external help for every little thing. But he’s still so far behind. 

Oracle: I’m in. You’re also seeing all these things about ghosts?

Red Robin: Yes. 

Red Robin: Somehow they have the city under a blockage that the Batcomputer wasn’t able to detect.

“Okay. Babs can take care of investigating that. We have a note to finish reading, remember?” Jason says, reaching for the paper Tim had left beside the computer, which Tim promptly snatches back. “Hey!”

“You won’t read it outloud for everyone.”

“According to whom!?”

“Kids…” Bruce sighed, “Continue reading, please, Tim.”

The little shit looked smug for a second before going back to the note.

“Please understand that in general ghosts aren’t bad, it’s just Vlad. But ghosts are powerful, and Vlad is really powerful. This can’t be resolved through normal means. I know the Waynes have contact with the Justice League, so I ask you to please get in contact with them, and don’t get anymore involved. I doubt the Justice league is equipped for the type of ghosts we have in Amity park. My friends Samantha Mason and Tucker Foley know where to find specialized weaponry and protective devices. Please, convince the Justice League to go for them first, it would be a disaster if one of the Justice League was overshadowed by Vlad.” That’s where the letter ended.

“Overshadow?” Bruce echoed.

Tim wasted no time putting the word into Google, which, now that Jason noticed, was decorated with little ghosts. Did Amity have its own Google doodle? The definition of the word popped like any other word would, and Jason wondered if that was something else that was blocked outside the city.

“It seems to be how Amity Parkers refer to possession.” Tim said after skimming the definition.

“What do we know about Samantha Mason and Tucker Foley?” Bruce asked, already in work mode.

“Not much, outside of being known friends of Danny. The Masons are a well positioned family in Amity; they’re new money. Izzy Manson, Samantha's great grandfather, invented a machine that twirled cellophane around deli toothpicks, the patent and inheritance placed the family where it is today. Pamela Manson owns a jewelry brand that’s grown in popularity in the Midwestern elite, while Jeremy Manson is a real estate developer. They often attend galas in Wisconsin, and sometimes in other big cities. Samantha Mason is a known teen activist, and has had her fair share of incidents at galas.” Tim said, as he opened the report he had made before coming to Amity.

“Incidents?” Jason asked.

“She has a sharp tongue and doesn’t seem interested in keeping appearances. It’s well known she isn’t fond of the styles her mother gives her for the galas. In any photo she posted on her personal accounts in the last two years, she has a gothic aesthetic.”

“Ah.”

“There’s less about Tucker Foley. His mother, Angela Foley, works as a chef at a local restaurant called “A Ghost's Secret Recipe.” His father, Maurice Foley, is an IT technician for the city government. Tucker seems to take after his father in his interest in technology, and has a history of winning local programming contests.”

“There’s nothing that really screams “I know how to fight ghosts and have ghost weaponry” is there?” Jason comments.

“Well, this is the information we have while searching with the city's information being blocked. Search for Daniel Fenton on the web,” Bruce says, and when Tim enters the name, a lot of news articles come to light. “We should have suspected something when there weren’t a lot of news articles talking about an explosion taking the life of a whole family.” Tim nods to that.

Jason frowns at the screen. “Are you seeing these titles? Local ghost hunters die from mysterious explosions? Something tells me that the access to weaponry has more to do with Danny’s parents than anything about Samantha and Tucker.” 

“What did we have about the Fentons from the investigation in Gotham?”

“They were supposedly part of the tourist industry, “entertaining tourists with street shows about ghost hunting.” We were literally blocked from one of the most important details of Danny’s life.” Tim groaned. 

Bruce sighed. “Let’s try getting some sleep. We’ll try meeting Samantha and Tucker tomorrow in the late afternoon.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Late afternoon?”

“They’re teenagers. I would prefer to interrupt their class time or disturb them too late. They might not even know we plan to meet with them.”

Tim nodded, already starting with the new background check. “I doubt Masters lets Danny have his own phone.”

Jason unceremoniously closed Tims laptop, putting it aside and carrying the kid in a firefighter carry.

“Trying to rest applies to you too.”

Tim protested as he trashed, trying to get him to let go, and if the pretender had actually been serious about it, Jason may have not been able to keep a hold of him.

“I’ll tell Babs to leave the investigation for tomorrow as well. You’ll have time before we go meet Danny’s friends, so let’s rest for some time first, okay?” Bruce said with that voice he always used when he was treating them like little kids. And if Jason found it soothing, that was between his mind and himself.

Tim groans, but relaxes, accepting defeat, and the kid is asleep before Jason even makes it out the living room. Jason wonders, not for the first time, if Tims ability to basically sleep anywhere, anyway, anytime, would go away if the kid actually followed the sleeping schedule Bruce and Alfred tried imposing, instead of taking random naps around the clock. 

He’s sure the little shit will be back in front of the computer in 30 minutes. Whatever. He already did his mandatory older sibling duty by getting him to stop for a nap. 

[towasdandelion]

Hi can you make Vagastrom and Frostheim with "Someone flirts with you" Please?

Yessss of course hehehe, it was in my plans! I hope you like it (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠)

What happens when someone flirts with you while your ghoul bestie is away?

Vagastrom and Frostheim ghouls when someone else flirts with you

Leo pretends not to care, only to show up at the scene anyway. He rolls his eyes the moment he spots you from a distance. Taking out his phone, he opens the camera app as he walks over to you. "I know she's an easy target, but what the fuck? Do you really think you have a chance or something?" He absolutely humiliates the guy, calling him names before dragging you away with him. He starts whining about how you owe him now and how he always has to save you. All the while, he's holding your hand in his...

Alan’s alarms go off, and he’s by your side in an instant, towering over the other student. He doesn’t even have to say a word - the student goes pale and takes a few steps back. Just as the guy is about to speak, Alan interrupts. “Save it. I don’t want to see you around her ever again. Understood?” The student just nods quickly and walks away. Now Alan can focus on making sure you're okay and.. scolding you. A girl like you shouldn’t be wandering around Vagastrom on her own, he says. I wonder what "a girl like you" is supposed to mean.

Sho frowns when he sees a student he knows bothering you. Looked like he chose you as his next target. Sho walks up and throws an arm over your shoulder. “What, finally noticed how cute she is? Too late.” Not giving the guy a chance to react, he swiftly whisks you away from the scene. Once it's just the two of you, he starts asking questions. You didn’t seem to know who the guy was, so Sho feels obligated to warn you about him. He also asks you to call him if anyone ever bothers you again. Better safe than sorry. Not that he's just trying to get rid of the competition or anything.

Jin was about to get back to whatever he was doing, but then he pauses. There's a guy bothering his maid right now and for some reason he can't ignore that. So he shows up just in time to see the guy’s hand reach toward you. “If you reach for something that’s not yours ever again, I won’t be this gentle” Jin says, grabbing the student’s arm and twisting it. The guy yelps in pain and quickly promises it won’t happen again. Only then does Jin let him go. And don’t think he came to save you or anything. He just happened to need to tell you something. Why is he dragging you to his room now? No idea.

Tohma quickly arrives by your side, flashing his polite smile before speaking. "Is this how you think girls should be treated? Allow me to give you a lesson. Make sure to pay attention." He then proceeds to gently bring your hand to his lips and kisses it, asking if you're okay. Was it a bit theatrical? Maybe. But it demonstrated perfectly how close you and Thoma were. Doesn't matter you're not a couple, it still sent a clear sign for the the guy to back off. The student mutters an apology and leaves. Tohma swears he just wanted to teach the guy some manners, but the look in his eyes tells a different story.

Lucas was literally born to do this. He's a gentleman, so he definitely won't ignore the situation. His steps are calm and confident, and you can see the soft smile on his face as he approaches you and the student. "Excuse me but I don't think she feels very comfortable in your presence. Would you mind keeping your distance?" The student blinks in confusion - Where did this guy even come from? And why is he being so... polite? But once he notices Luca's Frostheim uniform the guy decides to just back away, leaving you alone. After making sure you're okay Luca will escort you back to your dorm, just in case someone else wants to bother you.

Kaito... He won't stand for someone else trying to snatch his girl!!! Doesn't matter that you don't even know that yet, he will confess one day! And until that day comes he will make sure to literally act like a guard dog, trying to shoo any potential competition away. "You know she knows Jin Kamurai right? Yeah I wouldn't risk it if I were you haha" Literally using Jin as a shield but hey, it worked! The student even thanked Kaito for warning him before walking away... Well, the blonde claims the guy was a weirdo anyways so he just saved you. No need to thank him!

[skyracha]

Headcanons SKZ

You need their help finding your tampon iykyk

( based off the tiktok trend)

Friends! SKZ setting

My Library HERE :)

Content is self explanatory

Chan

You’d burst right into his room, and when you ask him for help he doesn’t even question it. He gets right up and gets everything ready without a word. He’d grab towels and roll up his sleeves as he tells you to widen your stance. Bro wouldn’t hesitate to get in there, he’s not shy nor is he going to make this awkward, cuz it isn’t awkward for him. He’s the type to reposition you so he can get a clear view, but he eventually gets it out with a proud smile. He tosses it and grabs a new one for you out of HIS bathroom closet. “I keep extra, when you have a sister you learn what to have on hand.”

Lee Know

This man is going to make you feel awkward with how nonchalant he is about it. He doesn’t really care, and he’s going to be in and out in record speed (it’s borderline concerning how quickly he removes it). He tosses it out without a word and leaves you laying on the bathroom floor, bare for anyone who dare walk in before he returns with a pad and some sweats. “Why don’t we try this so we don’t lose it huh?”

Changbin

Man acts like he’s so cool about it but his hands are shaking as soon as he kneels in front of you on the counter. He’s intimidated and also breaths so heavy. He exclaims when he finds it and removes it so slow like you’re a game of operation. He wraps it in toilet paper before handing it to you to throw away as if he wasn’t just knuckle deep fishing it out. “Do you need me to get you another one? I don’t have any on hand though.”

Hyunjin

Sits and processes when you ask him, but then he simply asks how you’d be most comfortable doing it. He’d let you lay on his bed with towels everywhere, I MEAN EVERHWHERE (there’s literally one under ur head as if it’ll get all the way up there). He makes conversation while he swiftly gets it out and throws it out, giving you a new pair of underwear prepped with a pad. “I recognize your traits for this time of the month, so I keep some stuff on hand in case of emergencies.”

Han

He’s FLABBERGASTED. Like blinks at you. He quite literally asks if he needs to go get tongs from the kitchen. But once you explain that’s not necessary he’s rushing around to get the materials and even grabs gloves. He takes a second to realize where he needs to be looking and what to look for, but when he finds it, it’s out and he basically tosses it into the trash from across the bathroom. “How long until you start bleeding on the towels? I don’t have anything you need in here but I can run fast if you tell me where to go find some.”

Felix

Let’s be honest- he’s the one knocking on the bathroom door after you dissapeared for a few minutes too many. He walks in, kneels down and immediately knows the protocol. He’s not ashamed but instead sympathetic towards your situation, smiling at you so sweetly as he grabs baby wipes/wet towels and a new one for you. He even offers some comfy pants. “Are you sure you want to stay in those leggings? I can get a pair of my fluffy pajama pants, those seem comfier for this scenario.”

Seungmin

Bro acts so disgusted when you ask. Makes faces and groans as if you just asked him to eat his least favorite food. But once he gets in there he’s quick to fix the problem as if it’s any other day. He even goes as far to throw all the towels and ur pants and underwear in a laundry basket while giving you fresh clothes and a new tampon. “You think I haven’t been waiting for your dumb ass to lose a tampon? Take the clothes and freshen up while I go start a load of laundry.”

I.N.

Poor baby is clueless and flustered. Offers that maybe one of his hyungs would be of more help, but gives it a try anyway when you explain you feel most comfortable with him helping you. You have to walk him through what to do and what to grab to protect whatever surface you’ll be on. He thinks ahead and asks where your pads are so he can have one ready for you when the tampon comes out. He’s stuttering the whole time, but he gets the job done. He offers to settle his awkwardness by going out for ice cream or something of the sort. “How about you and I go get a sweet treat or something? You’re prone to a sweet craving and I feel like I need a reward.”

[blogquantumreality]

I think the most clear-cut issue of AI in relation to copyright is whether or not the use of LLMs can be considered legitimate fair use when training data sets.

There was a recent court case involving Meta/Facebook where their lawyers did, in fact, try to argue out of both sides of their mouths: on the one hand, they work for a company which, like all major media companies of today, enforces copyright with the same vigorous zeal one expects of any ideological fanatic. On the other, they tried on the biggest whoppers any lawyer with any grasp of legal sophistry has tried on before a judge; their arguments, in all seriousness, boiled down to "we think it's fair use just hoovering up a zillion books to train our bots on" and "if we don't do this China wins".

The judge, naturally, was not amused.

So, the use of AI is not fair use as currently constructed and used, and I think that's fairly open and shut. Now, if you as a creator, write, "anyone can use this in any way, shape, or form without the need to secure the rights from me", then your particular body of work is fair game for a LLM.

(Incidentally, I've written two theses and each one I modified the stock permissions text to read that anyone can copy from it for nonprofit use without restriction, because I believe in the LaMacchia Loophole. AI with respect to that would be a grey area, since the usual use of LLMs is to, ultimately, make money. However if you're a researcher trying to understand how LLM training works, that's arguably nonprofit use, so feel free to scrape away.)

It's also worth noting that so far, governments have been resistant to the idea of granting copyright to any AI-created work, so this, I think, also blunts its apparent usefulness as some sort of magic machine that can replace all human creative endeavor.

i think artists not wanting our work to be fed to ai without our permission is intrinsic reason enough why it shouldn't happen

my political perspective: what artists "want" is completely immaterial to IP legislation, which is & always has been founded on the 'wants' of corporate rightsholders who exploit barriers to entry and monopolistic distribution practices to demand ownership of artist's works upon which they can establish new and ever more garish practices of rentseeking

my personal perspective: to hell with what artists give permisison to be done with their work. you are free to criticize, to rail against, to disparage uses of your work you think are wrong, or facile -- just as cervantes excoriated shoddy third-party sequels in the second part of don quixote -- but if you wish to take preventative measures, to enforce your disapproval upon potential remixers and reusers, i think your sophomoric preciousness about your work makes you an enemy of everything i value about art and culture. you are fighting for a world without cross, without the low end theory, without garfield minus garfield or lasagna cat, without centos or cutups or blackout poetry, without video game modding, without plunderphonics or youtube poop or collage. anne rice's world, a world immeasurably poorer with a dead culture pinned to a board and preserved by immersion in the logics of capital

[chaoticquill]

An Open Letter to the BSD Fandom

Long post incoming. TL;DR: fuck fandom bullying. Full stop.

Fellow BSDers,

I have been writing for the BSD fandom since August 2021, where I started to write my way out of my big traumas. Somehow, with one image in my head, I started the CAU with A Drop of Black Coffee in the Pot. I'm not entirely sure if that makes me a "big name" in the fandom or whether that gives what I'm about to say more "clout," but hey... it's worth a shot, yeah? Because maybe people will listen.

Maybe.

Since coming into this fandom, I've made a lot of friends through Discord, and I have had a blast creating for, with, and among them. Through Discord, I became a rare pair aficionado and gained a soft spot for Chuuatsu, ChuuRan, and others. The conversations I had with fans, in short, brought me more than peace from my traumas. I found myself among a community who, through shared interests in pretty anime characters based on historical authors, held me up as I faced more traumas, enjoyed more successes, and just... lived.

HOWEVER (emphasis), in the last year or so, three of who I would consider my closest Discord friends--three people I care deeply about--have been bullied out of the fandom for their unconventional ships or portrayal of characters or preference for dead dove content, and two more have been targets of cyberbullying.

In one case, I was also targeted by Dazai Anon (one of the cyberbullies mentioned above). My response to this is always simple: I laugh at the death threats because I'm already dead inside, I delete the comments, I block the posts, and I keep writing what brings me joy. Sometimes, that's ChuuAtsu. Sometimes, that's a more popular ship. And in all cases, that's totally fine.

But that's me. And not everyone is like me.

I've written this post a dozen times in my head. I contemplated, as the "adult" in the room, putting everyone in timeout or putting on my disappointed parent face. But instead, I settled on this.

BSD fandom, respectfully, what the actual fuck?

Let me be perfectly clear: there is no good reason to ever bully anyone, but ships, tropes, character preferences and readings? These are among the worst. And don't even get me started on what's "canon."

What I guess I'm really trying to say is this: the three people I know who stopped making BSD content did because certain members of the community took their fun away. And that's never okay. There is room in the fandom for the main ships and the rarepairs. There's room for the fluffmongers, angst fiends, and dead dove aficionados. In fact, many of the friends I mention write content I personally don't, nor do they tend to write fluff and explicit consent the way I tend to, but guess what? We appreciate each other's art. We share ideas. We hold each other up. And, most of all, we're friends, anyway.

So if I'm in any place to ask this fandom for anything, it's to keep your own space as a writer/creator without taking someone else's space away. It's to have fun creating content SKK, but stop taking fun away from the people who create DaRan or DazAtsu or KuniDazai or Kouyou x Dazai or whatever ship. Most important, be kind to one another, regardless of what characters, tropes, or ships we love because at the end of the day, we're not just pseuds or creators; behind the screen, we're human.

As people, I don't think we have anything to lose in this. We can still work around tags and tropes and ships and characters we don't enjoy. Plus, who knows? You might make a new friend, gain new perspective on a character dynamic you never thought about, exchange ideas and share excitement about the newest manga chapter... and that might bring joy to both of you.

I really hope this letter to be the start of something bigger, maybe something that will move through boundaries between fan communities. I've thought about events, challenges, movements... but my limited resources as a creator with 99 mental health issues mean that for now, those ideas will have to wait. This letter, inadequate as it feels, still says most of what I want it to say.

I often say I appreciate people taking the time to read my fics. I mean that for this letter, too. So thank you, truly.

And as always, don't forget to drink water.

Until my next update,

ChaoticQuill

[sfaghetti]

A character analysis regarding Regina Berry

it's quite clear the writers didn't handle Regina The Best in aa2, what with portraying the concept of pedophilia and her being groomed by three different adult men (Max, Trilo, Bat. on that topic, a lot of people overlook Bat also being a grown adult man while she was still a kid) as a normal romance, however they did improve greatly with aai2 and I'd say you can even use what happens in aa2 to add to her character in aai2.

one of the key points that stick out to me is how in aa2 she starts off being "naive" after being sheltered by her father for so long in the circus until Moe takes her to court and forces her to face reality head-on (which btw, if we're to criticize the pedos and Regina's father for indulging them despite AA painting them in good light, then we should also criticize Moe considering this also implies he did nothing to protect her from them). after she's faced with all of this she breaks down and blames herself for everything that happens (despite the fact none of it was her fault) and swears to go visit Bat every day. this comes as a rather big contrast when in aai2 she does show sadness at being betrayed by Simeon, but rather than dwell on it or blame herself she addresses feeling sad by it then choosing to move on.

but this brings to another interesting topic: terrible coping mechanism. her not blaming herself over something that isn't her fault is already a great improvement for her, however the way she brushes it all off shows how she might also have a similar coping mechanism to Simeon, which is to ignore her own feelings and pretend she is fine. she talks about Simeon being able to ignore something as big as the murder of his childhood best friend by just going to sleep and being fine the next day, and she talks about this as though it is a positive thing, such that even Miles Mr. Fake Your Death is weirded out by this.

this deal of hers can also be seen at the end where she talks about just "blowing away the competition and those bad memories away" (shown a few pictures above) rather than think about it any further. also interesting how she now refers to the others such as Max and Trilo as competition to knock over (though this is more obvious in the fan translation). which is why I hc her finally realising that they were bad for her and moving on from the idea of the "romance", which I think makes sense considering her reaction.

she also talks about enjoying being at the prison more than the circus in the second aai2 case, which I think is an interesting idea and could add up to the hc / theory that she genuinely doesn't want to be around them anymore.

and going further on this idea of Regina trying to shove down feelings / putting on a fake cheery persona (at least, in aai2) we also have Miles talk about her not batting an eye despite being accused of a crime, showing her resilience, yet afterwards Miles mentions her smile seems unable to reach her eyes as she pretends that everything is under control, making this seem more like something that she fakes.

she is also remarked in quite a few dialogues to have people fall for the cute, cheery attitude. the only one who seems to ever point out and notice her smile being faked is Miles, but even Miles falls for her "tactics" at one point, with her getting him to apologise to her without him even realising why.

another thing to remark about her being smart is her ability to quickly read not just animals but also people and figure them out in aai2. it's kinda crazy to see how far she comes along between aa2 and aai2, even if it doesn't seem noticeable at the start.

it also shows how good she is at this that she's also able to read Simeon brushing off his own feelings DESPITE him putting on a fake persona during the entire time they knew each other, and him trying to ignore his own feelings is also a fact, or at least try to get rid of them. numb them out. he equates feeling good with feeling numb.

summary: Regina is a very interesting character outside of just "poor victim" or "cheery silly girl". she shows a great change in behaviour (even if not noticeable at first) between aa2 and aai2, she goes from naivety to trying to drown out negative feelings, despite putting on a "silly" attitude she's still shown to be smart and being able to fake parts of her personality, and having an ease with both manipulating people and also reading them. it makes sense that she's positioned to be Simeon's sidekick and boss, as they're both very much alike. her cheeriness is something that she both fakes yet is also part of her real personality, similarly to how Simeon faked his weakness as a persona yet at the end his "weak side" was also part of his true self, showcased when he's reunited with Kanis again. they both play further into parts of themselves that are technically true but take it to an extreme, as a way to either shield themselves from any further feelings or (mostly Simeon's case) to fool others.

and under the idea that she was also abused as a child (even though aa2 doesn't intend you to take what she goes through as abuse, but it very much is) similarly to how Simeon was, it adds to the way they parallel each other too.

[millerskitty]

Running If You Call My Name

❥ dbf!joel / f!reader x joel miller

❥ (18+) nsfw

❥ reader insert

❥ medium burn, no outbreak au. some timelines are changed to fit the story.

dividers by @/saradika !

warnings: angst, confrontation, minor burn injury

word count: 1.7k

tag list: @foxin5billion @victoriaholland @persiar9

masterlist

Chapter 10

Winter was back in full swing and you were excited to have some vacation time. You’d managed to get Joel and Sarah to go to the Trail of Lights with you. It was a drive thru Christmas light and decoration event and it was your favorite thing to do during the holidays. Pop would be hosting Christmas for you and the Millers with the addition of Joel’s younger brother, Tommy.

“Whatever happened to that Caleb fella?” Pop asked, looking up from his crossword puzzle. You sat across the living room on the sofa watching tv.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, surprised by his sudden inquiry, “he uhh, he was kind of too perfect. It was off-putting, I guess.”

“Huh. A guy can’t even be too perfect these days.” He clicked his tongue and continued to look down his glasses at the puzzle, crossing out the word “bewilderment.”

“Well, I just don’t want a guy who tries too hard to impress me, it comes off as phony, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” Pop sounded unamused then spoke after a beat of silence, “What about Tommy?”

”Miller?” You squeaked, trying to keep your facial expression as neutral as possible.

“Mhmm, he’s not too much older than you.”

“Tommy’s uhh, you know, Joel’s brother.” You wanted to eat your words as they left your mouth.

”Yes, and?” Pop looked down at you over his glasses now. “Why does that matter?”

“Pop, I’m not talking about guys with you!” You shrieked, feeling small under his gaze. You jumped up and scurried off to your room, plopping onto your bed with a sigh.

If you hadn’t just given it away he was probably onto you, testing you and you’d failed. Your skin prickled with anxiety. You wanted to make things right, to tell him the truth, but you couldn’t calculate the fallout. You hated not knowing the outcome or where you would go if he disowned you for choosing the Miller brother who was over a decade older than you. You liked to believe that your loving father wouldn’t make a big fuss over it, but Joel’s paranoia was rubbing off on you.

~

Christmas Eve had finally arrived. You’d finished wrapping gifts for everyone attending the holiday at your home. You’d gotten Pop a fishing rod that he’d put back on the shelf, too frugal to indulge despite being able to afford it. You also got him some high end fishing sunglasses and some new shoes. Joel was getting some strings for his guitar, a steering wheel cover for the one that was rotting away in his old pickup, and Pop pitched in to get him a brand new cooler.

Sarah was harder to shop for; her style was constantly evolving. You decided to treat her to a mini shopping spree with a few gift cards loaded from her favorite stores and a couple of vinyls to go with her expansive collection.

Tommy was getting some hunting gear and cologne. Everything was labeled from you and Pop, so you made sure to get Joel something special for when you were alone.

Around noon, Pop met you in the kitchen to start cooking in time for dinner at six. You cranked up some music and got to work, side by side. Pop was the more efficient chef, outdoing your progress and making damn sure you knew it. He was competitive in the kitchen. He threw back the rest of his beer, stepping out for a cigarette break just as the Millers arrived to help.

You checked your reflection in the mirror and wiped your hands on your apron before answering the door. Joel greeted you with a friendly hug and walked past you holding a tray of brisket. Sarah jumped on you, making you swing her around a bit before setting her down. She rushed to the backyard to greet Pop as you turned around and welcomed Tommy in with a warm hug.

“Where do I put this?” Tommy asked, wielding a large case of beer.

“God, we’re gonna have to go out and buy a second fridge!” You giggled.

“If only it was snowing. Texas, am I right?” He playfully rolled his eyes, making his way to deposit a few cans of beer into the freezer.

“Hey you.” Joel waited behind you, sizing you up with his eyes.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Eve.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re opening gifts tonight.” You said, leading Joel to the kitchen he’d been in at least five hundred times. He looked delicious, he’d trimmed his beard and he smelled so good. His cologne was clean and woodsy, lingering on you from your hug.

“Pop is waiting for y’all to fry the turkey.” You said to the men, “And you’re gonna help me peel potatoes and carrots.” You said to Sarah who’d come in and started peeking at the dessert in the fridge.

Sarah jokingly saluted you, taking her place at the counter and you peeled vegetables for half an hour while you chatted about her upcoming senior year at high school. A surge of emotion sprung tears to your eyes as you discussed Sarah’s future. It felt like just yesterday she was a silly little girl bossing you around at her tea parties. You fondly remembered chasing each other with the water hose and having horror movie marathons. Now she was contemplating going out of state for college, leaving her old man behind. Leaving you behind.

The sound of your name snapped you out of your reminiscence. “Hello?” Sarah asked, looking between you and Joel who was just coming inside from the backyard.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you, stepping closer but being mindful to leave a few feet between you.

“Nothing, I’m just feeling a little emotional.” You chuckled, “The holidays, am I right?”

“Right, what those mean reindeer did to Rudolph still doesn’t sit right with me either.” Sarah joked, mashing potatoes animatedly.

Joel rolled his eyes before giving you a serious look that said “Are you really okay?” You nodded, assuring him you were fine. He didn’t press further and stepped outside for a smoke.

The interaction made you realize just how lucky you were to have the Millers in your life. You may have lost a parent at a young age, but the universe gave you two wonderful people to enrich your life. You would die for your little village.

You were interrupted from your snowballing emotional realization when Pop jumped into the kitchen using his oven mitts as crab claws, squatting and walking like a crab for effect. Sarah found it the most amusing, hooting and hollering as he pretended to pinch her.

The timer for the baking macaroni and cheese went off and you stepped forward at the same time that Tommy moved forward to dodge you, but you ended up playing the back-and-forth game for a few moments. Tommy chuckled and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you aside and then went the other way. Your skin prickled at his touch and you knew without looking that Joel had seen the interaction from behind the glass door. You didn’t have to look to know the stern look that was plastered on his face.

You snuck a glance as you pulled the baking dish full of macaroni out of the oven and found that you were right. His jaw was clenched as he took a drag from his cigarette and put it out. When his eyes locked onto yours, you couldn’t look away, which was a nasty mistake. You had tipped the macaroni dish towards yourself and some of the liquid cheesy lava spilled onto your shirt and you dropped the dish onto the counter, jumping back.

The cheese mixture was boiling hot and you lifted your shirt halfway up to relieve your burning skin. Tommy didn’t hesitate to jump into action, having become a first responder a few years ago after a brief stint in jail for bar fights.

“Fuck,” You hissed, looking down at your stomach in pain.

“Move, lean back.” Tommy said, lifting you up and onto the empty kitchen counter. “Keep your shirt up, honey.”

“The fuck just happened?” Joel asked, rushing in from the backyard.

“She’s gonna be fine, just burnt herself with the mac and cheese.” Pop said, his face twisted as he watched you wince from the pain of peeling your shirt up to expose the burn.

“Need ice.” Tommy said, turning to wet a kitchen towel. Sarah rushed to the garage to grab ice from the deep freezer.

The initial shock of the pain started to die down and you were able to assess the damage. It was a small patch of splotches from where the cheese mixture had soaked through just moments before you pulled the shirt from your skin. When Sarah returned she was going to hand the ice to Tommy when Joel stepped forward and took it from her. He held his hand out for the towel that Tommy had soaked with water.

“Whatcha doin’ bro, I got her?” Tommy said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I got her, gimme the towel.” Joel said calmly.

“I’m a medic, I got this.” Tommy said, confusion growing thicker in his voice.

“She’s m- I can help her, go check on the turkey.” Joel pulled on the towel. Tommy reluctantly released it to him and stepped away.

You were sitting on the counter in shock, no longer registering the tingling, throbbing pain on your skin. You looked at Pop who avoided eye contact, but his eyebrows gave him away. He was thinking, digesting the scene and remaining silent. For now.

Joel wrapped the wet towel around the ice and gently patted it over your skin. You looked up into his eyes and there was something there. Jealousy. Concern. He was being reckless, risking everything because his brother put his hands on you more than once. He’d lifted you up by your hips and set you down onto the kitchen counter like you weighed nothing. Joel had seen it all and couldn’t let it slide.

You winced as he applied more pressure, the melting ice sliding down into your jeans.

“Sarah, can you please go to my closet and grab the blue dress that’s hanging on the door?” You asked her, eager to remove her from the awkward scene that had just unfolded.

“You bet. Be right back.”

“So Joel.” Pop said, and you closed your eyes. Fuck.

“Yes?” Joel asked, not taking his hand off of your injury.

“How long you been after my daughter?”

[theothin]

That is what I mean when I say that the presence of cishet men is a non-indicator: because the presence of cishet men does not mean the same thing as people who might be clocked as cishet men not having their identities policed.

Anything that looks like it indicates something positive could potentially show up in a situation where the positive thing is not the case. If there are no people in a community who external observers would believe are cishet men, that is indicative of a problem. If there are people in a community who external observers would believe are cishet men, that indication of a problem is not present, which means the assessment of the community's health should be more positive than the alternative.

But the framing does matter to me: saying "cishet men are an indication of the health of a queer space" is not only an impossible standard (I do not think my local transfem support group is a dysfunctional queer space for lack of cis men in it) but it centers cishet men in a context where we could be approaching this issue as a queer issue. "Some queer people basically look like cishet men. Be normal about it." No need to treat cishet men as something whose presence or lack thereof moves the needle any way with regard to how healthy the queer space is.

I think I made it quite clear in my previous comment why "some queer people basically look like cishet men" is not at all sufficient. If your acceptance of a queer person who's only comfortable presenting themselves as a cishet men is contingent on assuming that they're lying about being a cishet man, you're not supporting them. (And again, I do also want actual cishet men around!)

Do you think your local transfem support group is the type of place those posts were about?

And ultimately, being normal about people queer people who might just look like Some Guy has the benefit of making cishet men more welcome. But I feel it is unnecessary to frame it as "Cishet men are necessary for the health of a queer community." Like, as I have said, if cishet men simply don't wander into my local queer community (and I say this as someone who mostly presents masculine at this point in my transition) I don't feel that's a strike against the community. Maybe they're just not interested?

If your local queer community doesn't have anyone you think is a cishet man, that means it doesn't have any closeted or questioning transfems claiming to be cishet men to you and everyone you know. That sounds like a problem worth looking into, not something to brush off as "maybe they're just not interested". Lots of queer communities are magnets for those people!

I really don't fuck with the idea of "cishet men being there is a sign of a healthy queer community" and the way it gets touted as a litmus test like "oh but cishet men being there is a good sign for all the closeted trans women." Like okay if you're trying to convince a bunch of trans women that your queer community is safe for them I really don't think you should, even implicitly, be saying "oh don't worry, our queer community is totally inclusive of trans women! That's why we've got cishet men here! Y'all are pretty much the same, right?"

Like, a closeted trans woman is probably going to feel more comfortable in a queer community if she sees a bunch of other trans women who are safe and comfortable, innit?

[talenlee]

What Does Your Moderation Do?

This is going to be a little bit of a story about an experience I’ve had on Reddit that I’ve been percolating about for a while. It’s about Custom Magic cards, but it’s not going to show any of them. It’s about moderator behaviour but I’m not presenting this to make a case against someone. However, it is also undeniably about an internet community space, and how I feel about it, and that means it might come with the feeling of me being mad about not posting somewhere.

This is not about that and I don’t want it to be.

I am not tits, nobody cares that I’m out.

If you’re familiar with my online activity, one thing you might know I do is I used to post a new custom magic card every day. I’ve done this across platforms like Twitter, Cohost, Mastodon, and with the most enduring of all of these being Reddit. I was, at the point I stopped, posting daily cards to Reddit for five years, so 1,825 cards.

More, actually, some were paired partner cards.

I don’t post my cards anywhere any more. I might not make any more at this point, because I don’t feel there’s an audience for them. Making them for my own benefit was fun, but I wanted to make and share them as a social experience, as part of a community, and I didn’t, it seems, actually have that.

I have stopped posting on the custom magic subreddit. Whether or not I posted there became a question of what the subreddit was offering me versus what it was asking of me. I wanted to show people cards and get into conversations about what they were for or how they represented the game, to check for wording mistakes and see if the flavour came through, and wanted to comply with the moderator policy to post there.

The responses I’ve had, historically, haven’t been good. Feedback typically fell into three basic camps; no feedback at all, bad feedback, and good feedback. Good feedback includes things like meaningful corrections of game text, and useful considerations of flavour or wording problems. Bad feedback is things like ‘I would design a different card,’ or, more commonly, people misreading or failing to read a card, then getting very mad at what they imagined the card was. I have had whole weekends of time where my reddit was basically useless because I was getting comments from people who felt I was being condescending or rude to them by explaining to them that the problem they imagined a card had didn’t exist.

In order to be a ‘good poster,’ I tried to find people’s cards that I could help, offered useful clear advice when I could, and asked about what people were aiming to do to help them with their cards. I was trying to lead by example. I tried to bow out of conversations I didn’t want to have and did what I could to discourage unhelpful responses to my posts. It didn’t really work and seemingly got me a reputation of being a scold and an asshole.

The community claimed to want things, like more people designing coherent sets. More commons. More cards that were interesting with a place, and more lore. None of these things, it seemed, are true, at least, in the ways I tried them. There is after all, always the possibility that I’m just bad at doing the things the subreddit said it wanted. It certainly wasn’t a place to discuss mechanics, that’s for sure; I can think of a cavalcade of conversations about mechanics where someone wildly misunderstands the rules, and then makes it my fault that they’re trying to comment authoritively on something they nakedly don’t understand.

The other part of it, trying to comply to moderation, was the reason I wound up giving up on the space. Moderation is the service you offer people who want to use your social space: You are representing that you will take measures to encourage behaviour you want and discourage behaviour you don’t want. The behaviour that the subreddit wants is one of scrupulous and correct artist citation on the card itself, and eventually, this was the problem that I couldn’t deliver on. Not because I don’t agree: I do think that the artist credit should be present. Undeniably, there were mistakes; the most notable one of late is that a fond didn’t render text clearly, such as missing glyphs for Cyrillic names or special characters I didn’t recognise as being different because I was looking for the URLs and copying the artists’ own names on their Artstation sites.

Eventually, a moderator contacted me to let me know that my violations had grown so common that the next one would yield a year-long ban from the subreddit. See, the card that was being cited was low-resolution enough that the artist credit might be ambiguous and require more effort to search up, which got to go on the same heap as ‘Grace Liu is too ambiguous,’ despite it being the artist’s name she used to sign her own work.

The tool I use, Magic Set Editor, deliberately only releases moderate-sized templates that aren’t print quality. This was because the original program wanted to avoid a takedown from Wizards of the Coast for encouraging/enabling piracy, and the program is itself, a standard program Wizards of the Coast use themselves for internal proxies these days. But time has moved on and other, much higher resolution tools I’m unfamiliar with have taken to the stage, and the subreddit, I am led to understand, posts in this higher resolution now.

This presented me with three new problems: Make sure that every single thing I ever did was vetted by the mods ahead of time, accept that alt text was unacceptable on Reddit (which, to be fair, Reddit does not natively support alt text), learn a new program to translate my entire set into, and do so because the principles of avoiding printability was a thing that the subreddit didn’t respect. Things I did like — alt text, set design, lore, a type of conversation around what cards are for and what they express — weren’t there in the space.

I don’t consider the moderator’s concerns unreasonable, by the way. Rather, I had to regard whether the moderation rules created a community that offered me what I wanted. Was this community good at providing what I wanted? Did their policies work?

Last I checked, the custom magic subreddit was full AI slop art, political jokes, beginner errors, and the same people posting authoritively incorrect things about the game rules or card balance interspersed with meme designs, overpowered personal commander cards, and people who proudly did not play the game trying to design cards for it. Through the whole time there I can think of one actual poster who made work I consistently wanted to see. My most popular cards ever shared there have ridiculous comment sections full of people in some cases nakedly insulting me because they don’t understand how the rules work. I had a thousand comments on something once because I suggested that in casual games of commander, you should talk to your friends, and that resulted in people angrily and energetically explaining to me all sorts of things I didn’t say.

Whatever the moderation is meant to do in that place, it has not yielded anything I want. It did not make the place more fun for me. The Moderation is the service offered by the space: here are our rules, you can rely on these rules, and you can rely on them to make the space what we want it to be. The internet is a place full of junk and slop and when you make a space for people to put things, getting rid of the junk and the slop is a way you can make that space more attractive to them.

Policies are there for a purpose, to make a place comfortable for the people you want there and to discourage the people you don’t want there.

And I don’t think that place wants me.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[mixingandmelting]

Trouble

Summary: how he acts when he's in trouble/ "Men are from Mars, Women are from Miley Cyrus" Meme

Owen: “I should’ve bought you flowers”/“I can buy myself flowers”

A double dozen of Heirloom roses in one hand, a box of chocolate from Charbonnel et Walker in another - only the best of the best for you. Nervously he stands in front of the door before releasing a puff of air and opening the door. 

His first words should’ve been “I’m sorry” or “babe, I got you something”. But he sees flowers and chocolates already in your hands. 

“Who gave you those chocolates and flowers!?” 

“…Me, myself, and I.” 

…Well, crap.

“Oh, uh, what a coincidence. I got you flowers and chocolates too!” His smile strains, beads of sweat sliding down the back of his neck. 

Your expression couldn’t get any flatter was what he had thought when heard how pissed you were from Camila. Obviously, he’s proven wrong as your eyes start resembling the void. 

Slowly he places his gifts on the table and raises his hands in the air. 

“…So, I can explain-“ 

The next few minutes get spent with him making all sorts of excuses as to why he had decided to suddenly take a “surprise” to South Korea. Too bad for him you don’t buy any of it, calling him out for each one. And to make things worse, you reveal it’s both from Noah and Shelly (Noah, he sort of expected but Shelly? Shelly????) you found out about it  in three days since he left the UK, both complaining to you about him bothering them. 

“-think about your team and how much trouble you’re causing them! Also quit bothering that rookie, Jay! It’s clear he likes Shelly and intends to be good to her!” Instantly he snaps his head up. 

“You like him too-!?” 

When he makes an appearance later that day at the training facility, no one makes a comment about his bad mood or why he keeps grumbling about taking down a certain cyclist.

Jay: “And Held your hand”/ “I can hold my own hand”

He slouches on the bench, gloom filling the air around him. 

The whole day he tried to hold your hand. But somehow and some way you manage to always keep them full. Break time? Helping carry supplies to the classroom for the teachers. Lunch? Holding your phone and ID. 

Hell, this morning when he woke up from the impromptu sleepover, he found you holding your own hand. In your sleep. 

Minu and June tried to comfort him, patting his back and telling him you won’t stay mad for long. when he asked how they knew, the two of them refused to make eye contact with him. He didn’t need to be told anything else, the silence shared the next few seconds filled with camaraderie of dealing with their s/o’s wrath. 

To be fair, he was being honest when he told you about traveling to the US all of sudden and that he had fun with the guys. Just… minus the extra, little tidbits of him getting threatened with a gun. Then kidnapped. Then dealing with a drug case. 

 he practically forgot how easy it was for you to pick on the existence of missing pieces as you corner Dom during yesterday’s group study/sleep over to fess up everything since you knew he was going to keep it to himself. 

“I knew you’d be here.” Snapping his head up, his eyes wide. You stand in front of him, your hands are on your hips. “Next time you pull something like this, it’s forty-eight hours. Got it?” 

Starting by wrapping a finger around yours, he happily grabs hold of your hand as he mutters a sorry and promises not to do it again. 

The two of you end up being given disapproval looks the next day at school, the girls telling you you should’ve been harsher while the guys gave crap to him for getting off the hook so easily. 

Pole: “Should’ve gave you all my hours”/ “I can talk to myself for hours”

 He sits on the couch, his arms wrapped around the same leg he’s using to prop his chin as you sit next to him watching some rip off version of Love Island.

“Um, so listen-“ 

“Oh, that’s so funny!” 

“Look, I just want to say-“ 

“Wait what? Stewart cheated on Samantha?” 

“Babe, please-“ 

“That scumbag. That trash! That mother trucker-!” 

…So, he may or may not have messed up.

He swears up and down it wasn’t on purpose. He was simply overly excited that Oliver finally, in how many years, agreed to join his crew Gold Rush leading him to talk to the blue-haired male constantly for a few days. All while ignoring the signs of you trying to grab his attention and your texts. Perhaps even a few phone calls on top of that. 

So what do you do? Not talk to him. You texted with your friends, had phone calls with people both you are mutuals with. You talked to yourself. All regardless if he was there or not including now where he’s now up and stands between you and the screen. Every time you tilt your head so you’d be able to continue watching, he shuffles to block your way. When you sigh, he kneels and wraps his hands around you. 

“Please talk to me, I’m sorry-!” He whines, stubbornly keeping his head on your lap while you try to shove him off. “Please!!!”

It’s quiet for a moment, him giving you the kicked-puppy look while you blankly stare at him. 

“…I can’t believe this.”

Despite his ears bleeding from hearing your rant about how he had the audacity to brag Oliver’s ears off about you when he was ignoring you, it ends up being worth it as he was able to talk to you again along with having a snuggle session. 

Wooin: “Take you to every party”/ “Take myself dancing”

He finally loses it, watching you stuff your phone and go back dancing. You didn’t blink or consider answering; just one glance and done. 

Okay, fine. He should’ve been more truthful about where he was and what he was doing the night of Vinny pointing a broken glass bottle at his neck, especially after you had warned him about his business was going to “bite him back in the ass” because he’s “too mean” to people. 

Did he expect you to be mad when you found out about it? Yes. For you to go clubbing by yourself, without him, during the whole weekend? No. 

Slipping through the crowd with ease and expertise, he reaches you right on time to witness the one moment all boyfriends hate. 

“Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.” There’s no exception. That loser hitting on you? That guy’s dead, one way or another. 

Or that’s what was supposed to happen. When or how you realized he’s there, he has no idea, completely catching himself and the group around you off guard as you turn and kiss him. 

“No way. I told you I was taken!”

His brain doesn’t go back online until the two of you are a distance away from the club and you let go of his hand. 

“I’m never doing that again…” You grumble, crouching down while going on a tangent about how much you hate nightclubs. 

His tempers flares and he clicks his tongue.  “Yeah? And what made you think it was smart to go alone?” 

Another regret is born as he quickly learns you weren’t out drinking while dancing on the floor - you were actually very much sober. Add that to you also being the only one so far that could out-smart him when arguing, he faces your (nagging) rage wordlessly. At least it doesn’t take long nor that bad, you calling it even since he did save you by appearing when you were getting hit on and kissing him on the cheek as thanks. 

[silent-sanctum]

"Jotaro as a Father"

Alright, this is another popular discussion about Jotaro's character. It also falls victim to the fandom's tendency to resort to "black and white" thinking, perhaps combined with other minor factors (and another case of me liking to overanalyze my favorite characters because Araki left so much about him vague)

This user has posted this on another "opinions that I will defend until the end of time" and garnered thousands of likes. This was probably the most liked quoted retweet. And it irked me. Am I surprised? Not really. Disappointed? Absolutely. And they are probably the 80% Jotaro fans that don't understand him.

And as your local Jotaro defender and anti-Jotaro mischaracterization person, I am here with another essay exploring more of his mentality. This time, it's about him being a parent, and while he isn't the best father, he isn't that bad either, or at least how the majority of the fandom thinks him to be.

I have made a previous character essay that talked about Jotaro's crippling weaknesses under the facade of strength and competence in detail. If you're interested, I'll leave this sentence linked to the post.

Now keep in mind: This character study is all assumptions and headcanons, BUT they are grounded in canon (e.g., pattern of behavior, general personality, actions he took, etc.) instead of what is popular in fanon interpretations. And much like how I wrote my previous essay (with the CEO and her POV on her emotional reservation), I will be drawing a lot of thematic comparisons with another show I've watched.

Why? Because sometimes, there are patterns on how groups of people can function in life, and it's not just the writer's bias and blind defense of their favorite character.

Second, I need to make this clear also: Jolyne is valid for being mad at her father. I am not invalidating her feelings at all. This essay is about exploring his headspace and what led him to do what he did. That's it.

Okay. Now onto the essay itself.

"Is he a bad father?"

Ehh, I can say that while he isn't good, he isn't bad either. His parenting lands more in the grey area, instead of either end of the spectrum. Because we all know at the surface level that he got married, had a daughter, went AWOL, divorced his wife, and stayed away from his family for their safety.

The action was bad: Neglect is neglect, no matter the excuse, and it can cause the affected people to respond to it negatively in the long term, especially for children with an absent parent.

However, the intention was good: He chose to stay away from his family because he attracted danger to his loved ones, who couldn't see the threat. He's a Stand user who could likely draw in other Stand users. He cared for them, and he wouldn't want to risk their safety by being around them.

It's complicated and nuanced. I feel like it's wrong to just shoehorn him into the "bad father" category, when the generalized view of what a "bad dad" is being abusive or leaving the child with malicious and/or selfish intent. But he doesn't hold up the "good father" title either, when being a "good dad" involves being a constant support for one's child, which he didn't do in Jolyne's late childhood to her teens.

So, he's neither good nor bad. He's a father doing all that he can with his current circumstances.

And yes, while I could leave it at that with the whole "he's neither good nor bad, but somewhere in between", many have placed their arguments about why he's a bad father and the alternatives he could've taken instead of completely choosing the self-isolation route.

The most popular one was this question:

"If he knew he was a danger, why did he have Jolyne? Why did he choose to have a family when he was going to stay away from them in the end?"

Here's the thing though… He didn't.

Jotaro doesn't have the hindsight that the audience has. He couldn't have known until he noticed it later down adulthood, where he grew to become more observant of his surroundings.

And even if he did know, is he not allowed to be human? Do you want him to just be a lonely marine biologist who just does the Speedwagon Foundation's (SWF) Stand work 24/7? Is he not a person who is capable of feeling love for someone else, and has wants for himself outside his job?

Yes, he's diligent. He is capable of self-preservation. He is powerful. But even the strongest individuals have families of their own. They have close bonds with others that they treasure. Why? Because being able to love and feel love is what makes someone "human". Jotaro is a human just like most of us. He isn't a working machine who just does his job.

Let me introduce this show called "Moving." It's a show where basically "superpowered parents who used to be special agents, hide their superpowered children from organizations who wish to exploit or kill them." It's a relevant show to this essay since the protagonist's father behaves similarly to Jotaro.

In the show, this man is the government's best agent with special abilities. He carries out his missions and reports back after completing his task. He does his job seriously and rarely fails an assignment. In isolation, he describes himself to be cold and stoic, who is unable to socialize much due to his role as a special operations agent.

One day, he encounters the protagonist's mother: The organization's top graduate with exceptional marksmanship, who also possesses special abilities.

And despite both of them knowing the risks of getting too personal and intimate, guess what happened?

They both fall in love, even if it means being locked into being exploited by the government. And not only that, guess what else happened.

They have a child together.

Let me remind you: They know they are high-profile agents. The best of the best. They are aware of the risks that come with interpersonal connections, but they had that family anyway. Why? Because they were human. To find normalcy in the midst of their circumstances.

My point is that Jotaro is a person who's allowed to have a life, even if it couldn't be completely normal given his situation. Jonathan got married and had a kid. Joseph got married and had children. What makes Jotaro any different? Because he's workaholic, stoic, and reserved like the dad in the show? That's not a fair assumption if you ask me.

Another thought raised was this:

"Couldn't he just have given and trained Jolyne with her Stand?"

It seems plausible, and it sounds cool. But you have to know how Jotaro operated and why that couldn't be the case. His life after Egypt went down the drain. Heck, you could even say that his life changed when Star Platinum awakened in him. When Stands became a permanent thing in his day-to-day.

No matter how much he likes to focus on his day job as a biologist, he now had to shoulder being the SWF's go-to investigator for the supernatural. Not only did he work hard in his profession, but he had to do the Foundation's tasks as the Joestar bloodline's active patriarch and as the one who slayed DIO.

He couldn't have a normal life anymore. Not with his involvement with the Foundation and the enemies he attracted.

Now answer me this- What parent who loves their child will subject them to a life like theirs?

"Moving's" main premise is the lengths that families will go to protect their children, including from their past. The couple I mentioned raised their superpowered baby in hiding. And here's the kicker: It's the father who chose to suppress his son's abilities so he could live a normal life.

Again, this is the same cold, stoic man whom the organization treats as its best agent. And it's not just this family. There are multiple examples of parents in this show choosing to let their kids hide their powers.

Your daughter has caught the teacher's attention because of her power? Fake her death.

When you see the organization's leader smirk at you after learning that powers are hereditary, and you have a child? Go off the radar and leave everything, but your family, behind.

Jotaro never wanted Jolyne to be involved with Stands. He didn't want her to risk her life fighting a random Stand user when she could live the life of a normal teenager. She didn't have a Stand. Her mother didn't have one either. Why burden his child with the responsibility he had?

And did his isolation work? For the most part, yes. That is, until the incident with Romeo.

But then you ask yourself:

"He could've called her! Texted her! Sent an email- something! It's the 2000s! Technology's a thing by this point!"

Remember what his main character flaw is… Communication. If there's any fault that he has without debate, it's his inability to connect and socialize with others properly, and his poor maintenance of his bonds (as I have stated in my previous essay).

This argument could go in two ways. One is the whole communication issue, and maybe he was either too caught up in his job to update them, or he didn't want to share any details, thinking it's best for them not to know. As flawed as that thought was.

OR we could go the Snipster route, wherein he DID call Jolyne to check in on her, but because he kept making excuses as to why he's not coming home and is always away, she gradually grew to resent and hate him through the years, up until at one point, she yells at him to not call her anymore if he was going to continue being an absent father.

Pick your poison.

This leads to the next argument:

"He's a bad father because he's completely absent from Jolyne's life! He rarely bonded with Jolyne at all!"

Then why does Jolyne have so much anger towards him? If he were a fully absent father (as in I-didn't-know-you-existed type of absent), she shouldn't be holding so much resentment toward Jotaro. So, why is she hateful to him?

Because at one point, he was a present parent in Jolyne's childhood before he left. Yes, he could be busy working, but he could've spent his few moments of respite taking care of his daughter to the best he could as a loving father. She is the child he cherished after all. His weakness.

Not to Jonathan or Joseph levels of "golden retriever" and "grandiose" type of affection, but perhaps in more domestic, quiet ways: Cook her meals, read her books, listen to her talk about her day, help and teach her with homework, etc.

If he were a fully absent father, Jolyne should've felt apathetic and confused when meeting him again, not anger. If he were completely absent, Jolyne wouldn't have engaged in delinquent activity to catch her father's attention.

Again, in Moving, the protagonist is raised by a single mother from his childhood to his teens. He does not know who his father is, because when the dad was present, he was a toddler and therefore couldn't remember him. To him, his father is a stranger.

And how he reacts to the father at the end of the show is him not being upset or mad. It's him being surprised, confused, and neutral toward him. Why? Because he doesn't know him.

I would show the images but there's an image limit and I'm sad

Heck, you can say the same for Josuke and Joseph if you want an in-universe example. Josuke never knew who his dad was and was raised by Tomoko all his life. And when he meets old man Joseph for the first time, he's confused and is generally neutral to him. He's shy even when he helps him after his cane broke.

---

Jotaro leaves a lot to interpretation, and while I see a gem of a post here and there sometimes, I have to trudge through a sludge of mischaracterization and an oversaturation of memes that downplay what's canon in favor of fanon validation.

And I get it. I browse Twitter, check the timeline for updates, and notice that most users are impressionable teenagers who are from the West and go about their days living with Western individualistic values.

Maybe, just maybe, some people will project the "bad father" image to Jotaro as a result of their own daddy issues. Just like how misogynists will project themselves onto a favorite character like Jotaro.

I'm not saying this as a definitive truth, but as a possibility. Jotaro is fictional after all, and people will use fiction as a reprieve from reality.

TL;DR? He isn't a bad father, but he isn't a good one either. He's a father who does what he can to protect his daughter, with all his flawed mentality and caring heart.

[soulofnations]

First off, I think you didn't read my reblog right, I said "Eden didn't get hate ONLY for being Isreali", implicitly, this means that she faced hate for her country for sure, but by just addressing it's only for that reason it's a minimisation that Zionists do a lot

She is considered as an enemy for Ukraine, even if the ukrainian myrotvorets center isn't exactly trustful on certain things, since even just singing in Crimea (something she did) after the occupation is considered anti-ukraine, it's written she participated in anti-ukrainian propaganda activities from Russia against Ukraine

In the instagram story it's written "prepare your curses" or smth like that, I swear they were everywhere a year ago it seems like they disappeared, but, yk, I think it's obvious what she's talking about, also I've never read the stuff you said, just "they spoke negatively against Israel" as if it's a crime

Also, this is the definition of bullying, since you like this word: "seek to harm, intimidate, or coerce (someone perceived as vulnerable)"

Now, something like saying "I'm pro justice, pro peace" (said by Bambie Thug) and having written "ceasefire" on your face isn't bullying

Nor it is bullying asking "why not?" when somebody told Eden that she didn't need to answer the question "do you think your presence here is a threat", because seriously, why not answer it? It's a provocation, but not bullying

Eden expressed disappointment about allowing Palestinian flags last year, Idk, that sounds a bit against Palestine, my russian friends don't get bothered if they see the Ukrainian flag

3) Did you read what I said? I said she was allowed to change lyrics, Belarus wasn't.

Israel contestants are facing double standards because Israel itself did, Russia is banned because countries threatened to not participate in case that one did, Israel didn't face the same thing when it is killing thousands of people

Also, this is something Israel did:

By your logic, this is bullying too

4) Lmao, Georgescu did the same shit in Romania for his political campaign and wasn't able to rule for that, but yay let's consider this totally legitimate for Eurovision!!

5) You're a bit behind, Joost Klein was being made fun of for being an orphan by the reporter, did a gesture and the reporter made up bullshits, it was his dream since he was a kid to be part of Eurovision and made the song for his parents, a bit of empathy for god's sake..

6) They're idiots, N4zis are indeed a problem, but trust me they're a really loud minority

Kanye is able to do whatever he wants for the same reason Israel can do a genocide without sanctions unlike Russia: They both are rich

"Bringe them home" Allow them to have food lmao, wtf

Palestinians aren't Hamas, they're just people who want to survive, since 7 October 50.000 palestinians died, 38 more than the one on Israel's side (18% of the palestinians were kids, and most of the adults were women)

Last thing: I didn't blame Jewish People, I've never said the word "Jewish", in my tag I wrote "Anti Zionism" to make it clear I'm against THAT

Enough said

[igglemouse]

Week 1 ~ Introducing Magdalena ~ Tuesday

I start the day greeted by little energetic barks from my little guy Bruno. He's very happy to see me although I was just in the other room? I suppose I should move his bed to my room one day, I can't imagine being a little guy like he is and spending that much time alone.

Honestly, it was a selfish decision to adopt him. I didn't want to be here all alone all day long either so I suppose he wouldn't want that either but it looks like he won't hold a grudge against me as long as I give him his ball.

Such a cute little fella! There will be no singing about how we won't talk about him in this house, no no no.

The relationship I have with my sister is what you might expect. One of love and loyalty...but, there is one catch. She's a little loca. Crazy in the head, no? Perhaps that's too harsh but she proudly runs with the wrong crowd and while I do love her, to death, I also try to keep a safe distance from whatever she's up to in fear that I might get pulled into it. Sometimes it feels like even phone calls might put me in danger.

It's nice to hear from her though?

I can't allow her to get in front of my dreams or ambitions and I will not allow being a little unfit to also get ahead of them. While I failed the last audition I am doing all I can to pass the next. Failure is just an obstacle, just a bit of challenge to leap over and I will clear each one put before me, eventually.

Can someone also tell me why it's so chilly outside as well? I guess it's one of those DSV things huh? Random weather?

But I do have some very good news, very very good news even. I got the part! Yep! The music video! In fact, it all happens today! I'll be heading out a little later for it and to prepare I've decided to listen to a lot of Marco's music to get a better feel for him and watch a few of his videos. I know it's just a music video and my part in it will be eye candy but I have to do my best for every opportunity I get because that alone could be my big break. You never know whose watching, after all.

As for Marco, I'm aware of him, casually, but I am finding that a lot of his music is so very romantically inclined. Just songs about love and passion and heartbreak and more love! He's a real crooner with a very smooth voice and whenever he sings in Selvadoradean it does make me feel a certain way...just a little bit!

I can't wait to tell papa about it and he's just about as excited about it as I am. He only hopes that the video is tasteful for me, reminding me that it might upset my mom if it isn't. I'm not sure why that matters? Mama is kind of a hater, my hater, as crazy as that sounds, but let's not dwell on her right now, yes?

I cannot go out without making sure everyone is fed though because how can you be at your best on an empty stomach? I do think Bruno is coming around to me but I suppose food helps a lot with that and it's so cute hearing him munch away happily but I will have to go and leave him alone for a bit, unfortunately. Maybe one day I can afford a sitter, right now that is not the case. Also, maybe one day I can afford bitter dinners than grilled cheese sandwiches. Could be worse, sure sure, but could be better, no?

It was a drive that had to be at least over an hour long because of course the wealthy live far far away from us regulars but arriving to the hills of DSV hit me hard. This is where I wanted to be, a house on the hills, looking down at the city beyond, living the good life. Perhaps this is my first step towards that moment?

The place before me was exactly as I expected, sleek, modern, and had to be worth close to a million simoleons? I could even imagine myself in it one day or in a place like it, ambling around comfortably and enjoying the result of my artistry on the big screen. Watching movies in my personal theater, working out in my personal gym, all before heading out for a lavish trip before I go off for my next big role. That, is what I imagined.

Unfortunately, my little day dreams are broken up by reality the moment I step through the doors.

The director, a man named Elijah Love, greets me with an imaginary smile and lets me know that this is all business and time is simoleons. Something I should always keep in mind moving forward.

So, I find myself in a bathroom again, posing and preening in front of a mirror. I am reminded of the question that Jaxton, the casting guy asked of us yesterday. Am I prepared for the world to see me in this way?

I turned this way and that, making sure that everything was covered. Despite the loose nature of the robe there were pasties over more sensitive areas just in case something slipped, so that wouldn't be an issue, but still, this video would be seen by millions? Was I ready for that?

I decided there was a line and that this wasn't it. I've seen Marco's videos, they were always classy and focused on romance, which sometimes focused on sensuality of love. There is nothing wrong with a little sexiness, no?

Besides, I look amazing!

It was then time for me to perform and I should add, improvise. Elijah gives me one simple direction. Be Alluring.

Easy enough. I settle on the piano, the top part of it? Not sure what that is called but it doesn't matter. I matter, that's where the lens are focused, I'm what the viewer will see.

I go for simplicity because my goal isn't to distract, it's to blend in to the video, it's to make sure that no one ever imagines this video with anyone but me. You might think it selfish but this is a selfish business.

The bigger the star the more the universe will rotate around it...

Speaking of gravity and physics, Marco Aparicio proved my point the moment he walked in. There was an aura about him, a man who was used to getting his way, a man who knew that one simple smile was all that was needed to disarm someone and a man, most importantly, that captured my attention immediately. My eyes locked onto his and instantly I felt something, a spark, maybe? A connection definitely. I hopped off of the piano to greet him, thinking this might be the start of something I could never expect and yet...

It was nothing. A simple nice to meet you with a courteous smile, I honestly don't think he looked at me for more than five seconds. Ouch.

I told myself I wouldn't be star struck and I wasn't. It was worse. I was in love. I think anyone seeing this video will say a few things and will comment on my performance but...this is no performance. The dance and small moments and the kiss, all of it was...well, you might as well have called me a method actress in this moment because I imagined it as real. I could imagine me and him, a couple, living in a place like this, a collision of stars that brightens the universe for the short time we exist within it...

Then I was back home, watching the cooking channel, and doing my best to forget it ever happened. It was a job and it was business. Marco certainly treated it as such. How many women have I seen in his videos today? Every video of his features one or another and each one bleeds passion through the screen and music. I was just another video girl in the end and here I am watching some old woman lecture her audience about the importance of a good thermometer for roasting turkey.

Still. I wonder if there was something more there...

Index ~ Next

[luvseraphh]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

▹ synopsis: you have a bit of a crush on your new psychology professor, and you have to find out where it's going to go

▹ content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, suggestive but nothing explicit happens, drabble, age gap (both are adults)

▹ pairing: shinso x reader

▹ side note: based off of a dream that I had, there will most likely be a part two

you sat in the middle of your lecture hall, feet kicking back and forth as you looked down at your phone. you scrolled through the various tiktoks on your for you page, ranging from boring to rage bait to amusing.

you hear the clearing of the throat from who you assumed to be the professor and you slowly put down your device and looked towards the front. you finally got a look at your teacher and your breath hitched at the sight of his messy hair and purple stubble. he had dark eyebags under his tired looking eyes and his black outfit fitted him perfectly. he was certainly a pleasant sight.

when he finally spoke up and started the lesson, his voice certainly didn't help your case. his voice was deep and gruff, the melodic sound music to your ears. it was going to be hard to pay attention to what he was actually trying to teach you and not just how bad you wanted to get him into bed.

the next day you have his class, you make it a point to wear a cute outfit to class. you spent longer modeling clothing than you did studying introduction to psychology and reading your text book. you also spent a great portion of the morning making sure you had on cute makeup and had put your hair in a seductive hairstyle. you were trying anything and everything to get a chance with professor shinso.

you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter when you saw his eyes graze across your appearance, subtly looking you up and down amidst his teaching. you bit your lip and smiled softly, struggling to hide how much you wanted nothing more than to giggle and skip around like a lovesick teenager.

finally, one day you decide you want to make your move. you had just gotten back from hanging out and shopping with friends and already had on a nice outfit and some decent makeup, and your hot professor's office was open.

you make your way across the campus and towards the psychology building, where you found your professor's office. you spent a moment outside smoothing out your hair and clothing and making sure your lip gloss wasn't smeared before entering.

"professor shinso?" you said, walking into the room. your alluring instructor looked up from the computer he was typing away on, his jaw clenching slightly when he looked at you.

"come in," he said with a soft sigh, trying to hide the way he was eyeing your figure.

you hadn't thought this far, you had no clue what you were going to say to him now. you just sat down on the other side of his desk, awkwardly looking around the barely decorated office.

"what's the craziest thing that's ever happened to you when teaching?" you ask, trying to force yourself to make some kind of conversation with him. as much as you wanted to, you hadn't just come in here to gawk at the man.

"is that what you came in here to ask me?" he retorted with a soft laugh, a lazy grin gracing his face.

"would you ever date a student?" you blurt out, your face immediately turning a shameful shade of red. it should be made the pantone color of the year, really.

"I mean, there's nothing wrong with two adults engaging in a consensual relationship," he responded calmly, fidgeting with a pen on his desk.

"so is that a yes?" you hopefully ask, gnawing on the inside of your cheek as you stared at him in awe.

"next time you come in here actually make a move instead of gawking like a school girl," he mocked placidly, turning back to his computer as you scampered back out.

Taglist - @justmylvr @lwcedribbons @im0nsaturn @dvartefox @failurewater @f0reverfaded @t0asty1 @iv-vee @mp3nai @straows @grenadehearts @hecate-frenchfries

ⓒ luvseraph 5/5/25

[michanvalentine]

I agree with almost everything—though of course, it also depends on personal interpretation. That Astarion is desperately searching for connection, acceptance, and understanding seems pretty much obvious by now. The little vampire can barely contain himself, he’s so thrilled to have found a Tav/Durge who actually listens to him!

For example, I think there are some conversations he doesn’t initiate out of a genuine desire for connection, but because they’re useful or part of his nice little plan. Like when you find him lying in the middle of camp stargazing (or staring at the ceiling in the Underdark), or when he talks to you about Cazador and how dangerous he is. In those cases, he’s trying to warn Tav/Durge in order to feel safer himself, first and foremost.

What I do think happens, though—implicitly—is that even in these exchanges, something inevitably ends up bringing the two of them closer. Provided you choose the most empathetic response, of course.

Then there are those moments of pure sharing, like the conversation about which companion you’d like to bite, or which suicide method you'd choose to avoid turning into an illithid, or even when they're playing and teasing each other while Astarion is still executing his seduction plan to secure his survival. That’s a scene that kills me, because Tav/Durge can even tell he’s lying and challenge him to do better! Lol. Astarion finds it hilarious and doesn’t hesitate to use his “best lines.”

And then, of course, there’s the “you were my first” moment. Astarion is 100% sincere there. It’s just the truth—and honestly, it doesn’t even make him look good, so why say it unless it’s real?

And then there’s that little throat-clear, that quirk of his, that slips out every time he opens up too much and feels vulnerable. Like when he admits he wants to save Yenna, or when he tells Tav/Durge that they're the first person he’s truly cared about in centuries—during that famous “what are we to you?” moment.

And then, of course, there’s the mirror scene. That’s where Astarion is outright begging to be seen—not just in terms of his appearance, but for who he truly is, down to his soul. That’s another incredibly powerful moment of sharing, where all of his vulnerability is right there, plain to see. <3

Astarion craves connection

Lately, I've been thinking an awful lot about Astarion's desperate need to bond with others, especially in Act 1. Not just to seduce you and have sex with you, not just because he wants to secure his place in the party, but because he wants - and surely needs - to connect with people after two centuries of loneliness.

I’m talking about genuine interactions with other people, without the pressure of Cazador’s will, and with interlocutors who are neither targets nor threats. Of course, sometimes it’s difficult to say if he’s only pretending or if he’s genuinely trying to bond with you, but the more I think about it, the more I see it. Just think about all the discussions you can have with him in Act 1. He's certainly the companion with the most evening interactions, and I think there's a reason for it, especially when you know that he's been so lonely for so long. And it's also quite striking given the fact that one could expect him to be much more wary, maybe even paranoid somehow (like Shadowheart), but on the contrary, he shows a real capacity to open up, to share and to relate. It's awkward sometimes, but he's trying, even if he doesn't really understand it himself.

So I wanted to look back at some interactions in act 1 and to have a closer look at them (in no particular order). And it's going to be long. And chaotic.

Take the first night in camp for instance; he opens up about not feeling comfortable sleeping in the woods. Yes, he remains quite cryptic, he doesn't tell you how terrified he is (you can't expect him to at this point), but still... he doesn't know you and yet tells you he's not feeling comfortable here. You don't even have to ask him.

He could have kept it to himself, he could have preferred to let you believe that he's fine.

Nothing forces him to tell you about it. And yet he decides, against all odds, to let you know that he's not so fine. It's implicit and subtle, yes, but it's there. He tries to reach out to someone. He's not good at it, but that's a meaningful step.

And take the stargazing scene, which, to me, is when he really decides to go for his “nice little plan”. But whether this is it or not, he is lying down and stargazing in the middle of camp, and I can't stress this enough: in the middle of camp. He’s not sitting apart, seeking calm and solitude. He obviously expects someone (you) to come and talk to him.

Another meaningful example is his confession if you go to the Underdark before the bite night. In this case, he will decide to tell you he’s a vampire. Nothing forces him to tell you. He admits it simply because he wants to be honest about it – he feels that, at this point, you won’t let him down. He wants to connect with you, despite the risks of such a revelation.

And look at his face when you say it's alright: he’s so relieved! Because you don't drive a stake through his heart, yes, but also because he knows now that you trust him. That he is ok. That he can count on you.

As for the bite scene, it's a little more complicated: He's famished and he wants to know if he can bite a sentient being now that Cazador can't control him. Of course, doing it without your consent is a terrible move (I tend to believe his idea of personal boundaries is quite fucked up at this point, but that's a topic for a another post).

But if you accept him as a vampire, he trusts you to trust him enough to ask for a snack. Which, to me, is not only related to his burning hunger. This mutual trust, again, is something he desperately craves. Because it means your partnership is not superficial. And when you let him bite you, you prove him that trust can exist between the two of you (even if he's already planning to manipulate you, because people are complicated and full of contradictions).

Then you have the scene when he asks you who you'd like to bite. IMO, it's one of the most relevant scenes concerning his need for connection. Of course he’s flirting a little, he probably has already been scheming his nice little plan. But come on, if it was only about seducing you, I think he would have chosen another topic for the conversation… I mean, honestly, you don’t usually flirt by speaking about other people’s blood (except for all the Durges around, but he doesn’t really now about that yet). 

No, beyond the flirting bits, this man is desperate to talk about his newfound freedom! for the first time in two hundred years, he can feed on all kind of beasts, whenever he wants! Of course he's excited and want to ramble about it! Imagine you've been feeding on rotten and unseasoned garbage for weeks and suddenly you can taste all kind of different spicy food, wouldn't you want to share that experience with someone? To ask them what kind of food they prefer? To imagine how this or that would taste?

Astarion is curious, he says it himself, and he wants to share his curiosity with you. Because he appreciates your company. Because he wants to share something with you, the open-minded companion who accepts him as he is. Astarion is not just teasing you, he's enjoying speaking to you "in the spirit of theoretical questions".

By the way, if you refuse to have this talk, he disapproves. Understandably!

You just turned down his first attempt to connect, to have a playful conversations, without any pressure. Of course he is disappointed! He thought you'd understand after you let him dine on you.

But if you play along, he approves whoever you pick, and gives a little comment of his own according to the companion you choose. And each answer reveals an attempt at bonding, it's always positive, even when he wouldn't have picked the same companion.

Even if you choose him.

And even if he’s already performing for his nice little plan, don't forget that it’s the first time he can really choose and decide to flirt and seduce. He feels somehow that he has to seduce you, because that's how he learned to survive, but nobody is actually forcing him to, for the first time in 200 years. So many reasons which make me believe that this discussion isn’t a performance, not completely at least, and that it's not just about his plan. It's about bonding and having a little fun.

By the way, during that scene, he calls you a friend. Is it genuine? Maybe not at this point, but I take it as wishful thinking. Whether he acknowledges it or not, he wants friends, or at least a friendly interaction.

He used the words 'friends' before, in an even more sarcastic way: The morning after the bite night, when you decide to keep him in the party after the revelation. Here, he’s not talking about you in particular, but about the whole group, and half of them are particularly wary of him, some of them are lowkey threatening him (and right before this, he told you he was scared anyone would turn against him - he still is). Without you, they would have at best kicked him out of camp.

This "friend" is ironical because none of them is seeing Astarion as a friend right now. So he deflates it with irony. Likewise, when he asks you to sleep with him the first time before the party, the “trusting friends” is ironical since you just called him out on his potential bullshit - and he knows it. It's a defence mechanism he uses each time someone sees him as a threat.

There's another "friend" in Act 1. During the "drunk scene".

This part sounds much more genuine to me. He's intoxicated, and he greets you with a "my friend" and a little laugh that makes him sound very giddy about it. If you listen to it, it doesn’t sound like he’s bitter, or manipulating.

Even the dev notes indicate that he must look “very happy".

At this point he really begins to trust you. It seems to make him happy to believe that you could really become friends. And being intoxicated helps him drop the mask a little, he's more himself: Playful, silly, displaying a sheer need to talk with someone. (look at this silly goose)

But being intoxicated also helps him open up about his past, about the torments. About his bitterness and his belief that power is the only way to be safe. About his biased vision of the world, of heroes, of power structures and responsibilities.

IMO he really needs someone he can talk to, someone who would listen and understand, if he's not sure how to do it, if he can do it, if you can be that person. He's "drunk", he needs to vent, and he vents to you.

This need to communicate, to connect with someone is even clearer when you play Durge, since he seems to relate a little more to your character. First things he tells you after you recruited him shows that he observes you and notices something is off, but it seems to be comforting to him.

As if he was thinking "thank goodness I'm not the only one who's a mess. Maybe they'll understand." And a few days letter, he comments on your state.

Not only he worries about you, but he also wants to understand what's happening to you. And if that's not a proof that this man wants to connect with others, I don't know what you need.

He has a hard time acknowledging it himself, with that little "do take care of yourself" which sounds a little awkward. And it makes sense, that must not be the kind of things he's used to say to anyone. Hence the silly little bow.

According to your answer, he can also appear to be very supportive, telling you to not fear who you are, accepting your quirks just (like you accepted his). Partners in crime. He's not alone in this.

And don't get me started on the fact that he doesn't refuse to tell you about his past. Despite his little remark on you insisting “about exhuming the past”, you don’t actually have to insist to make him talk about it. Comparing to Shadowheart, he willingly tells you about Cazador, about him being slave and very soon after you learned he's a vampire. You just have to ask, he opens up. He complains a little but he talks, for the first time in so long he's found someone he can talk to, someone who's willing to listen. And the more he trusts you, the more he tells you, without you having to insist.

I could go on for ages with examples: How he approves if you decide to tell Eithel about the tadpole in the grove. He doesn’t trust the old lady, but he clearly wants the two of you to have fun.  

How he confesses that you are "his first". I don't think he's lying about it. After all, being completely unexperimented in term of biting people, it's not exactly the image of "the sexy vampire" that he usually tries to display.

Not to mention that he seems quite embarrassed about it. His body language gives him away. He's looking away, clearing his throat.

And why would he tell you if not to bond with you?

It's not about seducing you, it's about open up a little and talk about his experience. He's already trying to be honest with you, because it's the first time in so long that he can allow himself to be honest. His face is particularly vulnerable when he admits it after he killed you during that first snack.

Should I also mention the fact that he never installs his tent in a lonely corner like Shadowheart or Lae'zel or even Wyll sometimes do? He's always, at least, close to another companion, if not in the middle of camp. Of course, it could be a question of feeling safer if the others are around, but I nonetheless think it's quite telling about his need to belong within this little group of weirdos. Likewise, a certain number of banters in Act 1 indicate that he does want to have innocent interactions with the group.

And finally, let's go back to the beginning, when you first meet him. As soon as he realises you're not an enemy, he drops his guard, relieved to have found another survivor. He obviously didn't expect you to invite him to join - it didn't even cross his mind because who would want him as part of a group? - but he quickly accepts to join "the herd". Not being alone anymore could be a good idea, right?

You could expect that after two hundred years of slavery and torment, one would be much more wary, keeping to oneself, keeping their distance with the others. But not Astarion, no. Because whether he admits it or not, he craves companionship. He craves attention - not for his looks, but for his individuality. He craves acceptance.

He joins you, first installs his tent in the centre of camp, he makes himself useful for the group, he wants to talk to you almost every night, he tries to bond with you in the most awkward ways and shares his enthusiasm for his newfound freedom. Yes, he wants to seduce you to make sure you won't let him down, but beyond that, there's a deep need for bonding, and to feel like he belongs somewhere. And if at first he probably thinks he only belongs in your bed as a good fuck, through all your interactions he begins to understand that he belongs beside you as a partner, as a friend and simply, as a person. He needs emotional support, he finds it in you, and even finds himself capable of giving emotional support. You trust him, and this trust is precious because it means you see him as a valuable person, not just a Swiss knife or a pretty thing. And it means he can trust you too. And it also means that, maybe, the world isn't as cruel as he was made to believe.