#debatable who's worse tbh

[jonathanbyersphd]

God help her

[nightblackowlbat]

Going back to Joker becoming a ghost unless he receives a Revenant's Retribution-

I can definitely see Jason being ok with the magical restraining order and special facility for a while. But then Joker has a near-death experience, (maybe someone tried to assassinate him, maybe he escaped and got nearly killed, or he tried to kill himself, or even just got ill) and Jason starts to get worried.

Because the ghost king said that the only way to prevent Joker from becoming a ghost is if Jason or his champion Bruce killed him first.

So. I can see this going two ways.

One, Jason has moved on with his life. He's healed, the lack of exposure to his murderer has done his mental health wonders. The Joker no longer holds so much hold over his heart and mind and soul. So, with more cold practicality than burning hot vengeance, Jason takes it as his civic duty to execute the Joker. He does so with little fanfare, taking him out simply and without drama, just the way the Joker would have hated. A quiet cathartic end, where Jason finds he has more to live for than avenging his death.

Or two, the option with more angst and strife. Only Jason or Bruce can save the world from being haunted by the ghost of Joker. Of the two of them, Jason is the revenant. They don't know what will happen to him if he fulfills his revenge. There's one record of a revenant living on after being avenged, but all accounts point to those that avenge themselves end up passing on. So. Bruce has to choose. For real this time. Does he kill the Joker to give Jason a higher chance to keep living? Or does he let Jason do it, raising his chance of dying for good?

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[shellshocklove]

hot 'n' heavy | joel miller

pairing/AU: mom's friend from work!joel miller x female!reader

summary: hiding away in your room during your mother's annual work party, your mom's friend from work, the handsome joel miller, finds you in a compromising position.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! swearing, age gap (reader is college age), use of pet names, pwp, smut, f!masturbation, dom!joel, daddy!joel, manhandling, oral (m receiving), degradation (slut), pussy spanking, unprotected sex (don't do it!), creampie, no use of y/n

a/n: this is just something short and smutty. i debated not posting this tbh since it felt a little simple and not as detailed + with no plot, but it's been so long since i've written anything at all so i'm gonna look at it as a win that it's something lol

main masterlist / ao3 / fic updates

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

"Fuck… Is this really what ya want, sweetheart?"

Joel's voice was barely a whisper, something deep and gravely as he let his thumb skate over your cheek. It was depraved how gone you were already: half-naked on your knees before a man you barely knew, your eyes half-lidded from his touch, and your panties soaked through with your arousal.

You shouldn't be doing this.

Joel worked with your mother. He wasn't technically her coworker – a fact you'd cling to tomorrow when the reality of your actions would settle in – he was a contractor the company she worked for used for most of their projects. That's why he was here tonight, in your childhood home, attending your mother's work party.

You hadn't planned on visiting this weekend, didn't really plan on it for the foreseeable future either, but the devil herself (your roommate) had basically kicked you out because her army boyfriend (ugh) was visiting. With no place to go, if you didn't want to spend this month's paycheck on a last minute hotel room for two nights, you'd ended up going home.

Technically, and you'll forever be hung up on the technicalities of this situation, you were supposed to be studying at your desk in your childhood bedroom… not getting caught in bed masturbating by your mother's coworker.

To say getting caught had been embarrassing was an understatement. That he'd seen the glistening of your arousal on your fingers when you'd quickly retracted your hand from your panties and seen the porn video flicker over your phone screen… was even worse. But the fact that he was the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen, was definitely the worst part of this situation.

"'m sorry, sweetheart," he let out an embarrassed chuckle, like he couldn't believe what he'd walked in on, "I was just lookin' for the bathroom."

"It's at the end of the hall," you peeped out.

"Right… thanks," he said, his hand still lingering on your door handle.

A beat passed, and your eyes locked with his where you could glimpse something darker clouding them. It ignited something inside you, played the strings of the arousal still settling inside you, and sparked a hint of bravery in the pit of your stomach.

"You can use my bathroom if you like?" Biting down on your bottom lip, a lilt of innocence coated your words.

Something like a smile twitched over his face, and his grip on the door handle tightened slightly as he seemed to weigh his options. A loud choir of laughs could be heard coming from the back yard, and like the sound had made the decision for him, he stepped inside your bedroom.

"Through here?" he asked, pointing to your open bathroom door.

"Yes," you nodded, putting on a sugar coated smile across your face. When he'd closed the door after him, you weren't thinking straight; the lingering arousal from earlier drove your actions.

What was his name again? Something starting with J… John? James? No. Joel– Joel Miller.

Removing your hoodie and exposing the ribbed tank top underneath you remembered how he'd introduced himself to you at the start of the night. He'd been early, and your mother had forced you to say hello right before you'd sought refuge in your room for the rest of the night. His hand had engulfed your own as he'd shook it, calloused hands rough against your skin, and the friendly wink he'd given you as he'd introduced himself had had a swarm of wings fluttering in your tummy.

Pushing the covers away your heart was beating out of your chest as you heard the toilet getting flushed and your sink turn on. This would either be the worst or the best decision you'd ever made.

When he stepped out of your bathroom you sat up a little straighter and pulled your knees coquettishly to your chest – innocently, but with intent. Joel's eyes followed the movement and you knew he could see the wet spot where you'd soaked through your panties.

He didn't say anything for what felt like an eternity– he only watched you, his jaw tightening before the deep bass of his voice broke across the silence, "Y'know I work with your mother–"

"Technically you don't," you cut him off, a teasing smirk coating your lips.

Joel huffed out a short laugh. "I don't?" he challenged with a raise of an eyebrow.

"No," you shook your head slowly and spread your legs apart.

Joel's eyes were nothing close to subtle as you exposed yourself to him. "You shouldn't be doin' this, sweetheart– d'you know how old I am?"

"I don't care," you sighed, and let a hand glide down your body, your fingers toying with the elastic band of your panties.

"Clearly," he remarked, his voice strained.

Slipping your hand into your panties, your fingers found your clit where you started to press down in tight circles. Hitching out a small breath your eyes never left Joel's, and you watched as his whole body stiffened.

"Sweetheart," he warned, his voice stern as he stepped closer.

"Please," you breathed out, fingers still working your clit.

"Please, what?" he pressed, stepping so close to your bed now he could reach out to touch you.

"Please…" you pouted, making Joel let out a deep groan, "Want you to fuck me."

"Fuck– you're dirty baby," he whispered, and the way his voice seemed to get deeper and deeper made you rub your clit even faster.

"You have no idea," you whimpered as you looked up at him as innocently as you possibly could through your lashes, but you knew he saw right through your little ruse when his hand locked around your bare knee.

One sweet little plea was all it took for him to snap, and in one quick sweep Joel had you on your knees in front of him. The straps of your tank top had fallen off your shoulders from his manhandling, exposing the top of your chest. Your hands moved with haste then, fingering the buckle of his belt and pushing it through the loop.

"Fuck… Is this really what ya want, sweetheart?" Joel asked, his hand finding your cheek and letting his thumb skate over your skin.

Looking up at him through your lashes you nodded into his hand. It felt insane to admit it, but there was nothing you wanted more in this moment than him; a man you barely knew, a man too old to be even close to appropriate, but it only turned you on even more.

Over you, Joel's eyes had darkened into a stormy sea where rough waves of arousal crashed against his irises. Staring into your own eyes, Joel's jaw tightened and then popped. "Fuck… undo my belt, sweetheart," he ordered and let go of your cheek.

Wasting no time your fingers pulled his belt from the loops and popped the button of his pants. Through the fabric you could feel the way his cock had hardened, and you couldn't help but lean in closer to press open mouthed kisses along his clothed length.

"That's a good girl," Joel sighed, as the comforting weight of his hand found the back of your head. You couldn't help but sigh at the praise and a rumbling laugh tore through his chest at your reaction.

"You liked that didn't you?" he coaxed.

Turning your face to the side, you pressed your cheek against his clothed cock while you looked up to find his eyes. If your panties weren't soaked through with your arousal and your whole body tingling with excitement, you'd be embarrassed. But in this moment, Joel's teasing only made you wetter.

"Please," you begged, wide-eyed and pathetic with arousal, "please, I need your cock."

Joel's hand found the back of your neck where he gripped it, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make a point.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Need to be fucked nice and hard by a real man, huh?" he mocked, his voice laced with fake pity. Before you could whine out an answer he let go of your neck with a small push. "But first…" he grinned and leaned back, fishing out your phone from your sheets, "let's see what's made you this fuckin' needy for m'cock."

The video you'd watched, before he'd walked in on you with your fingers down your panties, were still playing silently on your phone. Still on your knees for him, you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment when his eyes widened and a small chuckle left his lips.

Holding your phone an arms length away from his face, he read out loud, "'Big Dicked Daddy Creampies Needy girl'– that's what you want sweetheart, need to get fucked raw and filled up with cum?"

"Yes," you nodded, eagerly and desperate, your cunt so wet it was starting to hurt.

"Yes, what, sweetheart?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrow, "let me hear ya say it f'me."

"Yes… Daddy?" you tried, and a satisfied smile spread across Joel's face. Throwing your phone back on your bed, Joel's fingers undid his zipper.

"Now take my cock out– c'mon," he ordered, almost impatiently.

With fingers shaking from excitement, you looped them through the elastic band of his underwear and pulled it down along with his pants, revealing inch by inch of his thick hard cock. Leaning back on your haunches you tipped your head back slightly to avoid his cock hitting you in the face.

Freed from its confinements, you wasted no time wrapping your hands around him.

His cock was thick with a throbbing vein running down to the base where a patch of dark and silver wiry hair met his happy trail. At the tip of him a pearl of precum had started to bead, and mesmerized you leaned forward to place a soft kiss to the thick head.

A deep noise rumbled in Joel's chest at your action, and his hand fell back to rest on the back of your head again. "Spit on it, baby–" he sighed and pushed your head a little closer, "C'mon, stroke that spit in."

Tipping your head back slightly, you met his eyes while you gathered a blob of spit in your mouth and spat! Your spit dribbled over the shaft and over where your fist struggled to meet around him, and with slick slow movements, you started to stroke his cock.

"Thaaaat's it," Joel groaned, "just like that."

Shifting your weight on your knees you sat up a little straighter as you jerked his cock in a slow steady rhythm. Your spit made the glide go easy, and above you Joel let out short deep groans with every tug on his cock. Leaning in a little closer, you lined the tip up with your mouth, but before you wrapped your lips around him, you hesitated.

"C’mon, sweetheart, nothin’ to be afraid of,” he soothed, the hand at the back of your head pushing you forward towards his cock, “I know you wanna taste.”

With his encouragement, you closed your lips around the tip of his hard cock – tasting him, finally, for the first time. Running your tongue around the sensitive head in slow circles, you teased the underside of him as you hummed, closing your eyes with contentment.

"There you go," he whispered, "S'good, baby."

Encouraged, you took him deeper into your mouth, testing your limits as the hefty length of him made room for himself inside your mouth. You couldn’t fit him all inside, gagging as the head of him hit the back of your throat, and forcing you to pull back with a cough.

"You're alright, baby," he cooed, stroking the back of your head as you recovered through gasps of air.

Never known to be a quitter, you pushed him back down your throat again a second time. Dropping your jaw and relaxing your throat, it was easier this time, and soon you were bopping your head on his cock. In your mouth you felt his cock grow even harder, and soon enough Joel met your mouth with small thrusts of his own.

Hushed rambles of praise fell from his lips. A sweet symphony through the wet sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Snot ran from your nose and mixed with the spit dripping down your chin while tears started to travel down your cheeks in salty rivers. It was dirty, and wet, and so so hot. Pulling off every once in a while when you needed air, you flashed him a wet smile before he was back in your throat again.

Through your open window, a sudden loud cheer came from the garden and startled you. Accidentally you pushed him down too deep, gagging yourself on his cock. Gasping for air you quickly pulled off his cock.

"I know," he cooed, two large palms wiping at the spit around your jaw, "You did so well, baby."

"N-need you to touch me, Daddy," you told him with pleading eyes, your voice raw and used.

"Yeah?" he coaxed, "Bend over then, sweetheart, let Daddy see you pussy."

With a strong hand wrapped around your bicep, Joel helped you on your feet. Unsteady like a newborn foal, he pushed you down on your stomach against the edge of your twin bed. His hands found your ass where they rubbed soothing circles over the muscle, before you felt him split your ass cheeks apart to put your clothed cunt on display.

"You're a little slut aren't you, sweetheart?" he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice, "You're so fuckin' wet f'me and I ain't even touched you yet," he laughed.

But there was nothing to laugh about in this situation.

A second later Joel pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wet cunt to him and let a harsh spank come down on your folds.

With a whiny cry, your whole body jerked at the impact. A prickling pain mixed with your burning arousal, and even with practically no stimulation, you felt right on the edge already.

One strong hand gathered your wrists behind your back as you felt the weight of him over your back. "Shhh," he hushed into your ear. With his other hand he guided the wide head of his cock through your soaked folds, slicking himself in your arousal. "Listen," he commanded, "y'hear how fuckin' wet you are?"

He gave you no room to answer him as he pushed the head past your entrance, and filled you up with his cock in one rough jerk of his hips. Instead, what came out of your mouth was a surprised moan.

"Bet that felt good, huh? That pussy's finally filled up like she needed?" Joel cooed into your ear.

Nodding your head, your cheek pressed tightly to your mattress, you managed to croak out a satisfied, "Yes, Daddy."

Pleased, Joel pulled out slowly before he slammed back inside you again, splitting you open on his cock as he made you take it. He felt so big inside you, that heavy pressure of him hitting the deepest parts of you just right with every kant of his hips. Moaning unabashedly, you let him fuck you hard and fast, guiding your body back against his cock with the grip of his hand around your wrist.

"'f your mother only knew what a fuckin' slut you are, baby," he hushed out under his breath between jerks of his hips. "The door's not even locked– anyone could walk in on you gettin' fucked."

Lost on the feeling of his cock inside you, a fire ignited in your belly at his words. You felt yourself get even more turned on at the thought of getting caught, of exactly how exposed you'd be if someone were to open your bedroom door at exactly this moment.

"Don't worry your pretty little head 'bout it– I won't tell," Joel told you, emphasizing every word with a harsh thrust.

Pushing himself as deep as he could, his balls slapping against your clit, a deep moan rumbled from deep in his chest. Your own moan got stuck in your chest as he grinded his hips against your ass – making sure the tip of his cock rubbed against your g-spot – before he resumed his rhythm.

"You're makin' such a big mess on my cock, sweetheart… it's drippin' down my balls," he grunted, "That turn you on? Getting caught gettin' fucked by an old man?" he chuckled.

"P-please," was the only thing you could manage between your breathy mewls, "I-I'm c-close."

"Yeah, I know, baby, I know. Can feel you squeezin' me so fuckin' tight– so perfect for this big cock," he praised.

Shifting his grip around your wrist, he snuck his other hand between your legs where his calloused fingers found your neglected clit. Pushing down on it in rough circles, you let out a squeal at the new stimulation.

"I know, I know, sweetheart, " he cooed, "I know you want to come all over Daddy's big cock– come while I rub this little clit."

"Y-yes," you moaned, his hips slapping harshly against your ass as Joel brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Tears had started to darken your sheets with a wet patch as you heaved for breath. You were right there, right on the edge now.

"You want my cum don't you? Want it inside?" he grunted the question in your ear.

"Please," you hiccuped.

Above you Joel’s groans and moans got louder, as he sped up his rhythm.

"Fuck, baby, 'm close– come f'me now, come for Daddy," he commanded, and with the kant of his hips and a flick of your clit, you came around Joel's thick cock.

Arching your back off the mattress and kanting your hips, your body shook as you rode through your high. Above you, Joel’s movement had become even more erratic, thrusting himself deeper and deeper before a loud groan vibrated through his chest.

Pushing himself deep inside you, Joel came inside you. A warmth filled you as he emptied himself, filling you and coating your walls with his spend.

"That's it– take that fuckin' cum," he rambled, forcing your hips to stay flush against his thighs.

As both your highs started to slowly fizzle out, Joel slowly pulled back and pushed his hips back in shallow thrusts, making sure to give you every single drop of his cum. Sensitive from your orgasm, the pressure of his thick cock inside you was almost too much, and with a small whine you pulled away.

"No-no-no," he said, his hands tightening around your hips, "Stay right there just a little longer f'me baby– good girl."

Satiated, you released a breathy sigh into the mattress as you felt a tiredness wrap itself around you. Joel's hands loosened around your hips, instead he rubbed soft circles over your skin, before he slowly pulled out and snapped your panties back in place.

For a beat you didn't move, but the metal sound of Joel's belt buckling had you turning over on your back. The lamp on your bed side table casted soft warm shadows over his face as you watched him put himself back together again.

"You okay?" he asked you, his voice low but warm – all his rough teasing gone now and replaced by the friendly man you'd shaken hands with for the first time only a few hours ago.

"More than okay," you smiled, "I can't believe that actually happened."

Your words pulled a chuckle from his chest. "Wouldn't mind if it happened again," he smiled.

"Me neither."

........................................................................................................................

i hope someone out there liked this little fic. i'd love to hear your thoughts either in a comment or as an ask! <3

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[gracie-eilish]

Heyyy I have a fic request. I know you said you're done with the baby fics but tbh you could never be done with them.(plus its not rlly a baby fic)

Reader is pregnant and she gets into a fight with billie about something and later reader needs help doing things but she's too afraid to ask billie. Luckily, billie knows her wife well. (VERY FLUFFY)

sweet baby💗

baby i could never NEVER be done with the baby fics. OF COURSE I’ll write another one!!!!! here ya go sweet thang!!☺️

HAHA this request is from the last time i said was done with the baby fics for the week lol!

The day had started off perfectly fine. A slow morning, Billie pressing lazy kisses along your shoulder as you stayed curled up together in bed, your hand resting over your growing belly while she traced absentminded patterns over your skin. She had murmured something about making you breakfast, and you had hummed in agreement, feeling warm and content.

And then later in the day, somehow, things went downhill.

You weren’t even sure how it started—just that one moment everything was fine, and the next, you and Billie were snapping at each other.

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe Billie was just being annoying (she was), but it had escalated fast.

“I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal about this,” Billie said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

You huffed, arms mirroring hers. “Because it is a big deal, Billie!”

She scoffed. “No, it’s really not.”

“To me it is!”

Billie groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Babe, you’re seriously mad over this?”

You glared at her. “You’re the one making it worse!”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m making it worse?! You’re the one who—ugh! You know what? Forget it.” She threw up her hands, shaking her head. “I’m going to the studio.”

You scoffed. “Of course you are.”

She turned to leave but hesitated, glancing back at you. “You need anything before I go?”

The question was soft, almost like an olive branch, but you were still too irritated to take it.

“Nope.”

Billie pressed her lips together, exhaled through her nose, then nodded sharply. “Fine.”

And with that, she walked off, shutting the studio door behind her.

You stood there, arms still crossed, fuming.

It wasn’t even that big of a deal. Just a stupid argument over something trivial—maybe she had brushed off a concern of yours, or maybe you had snapped at her first. Either way, it left you feeling irritated and on edge, needing something to do to distract yourself.

So you decided to make dinner.

You pulled out ingredients, chopped vegetables, and set a pot of water to boil, throwing yourself into the motions to burn off the frustration still simmering under your skin. You were fine. You didn’t need Billie’s help.

Until you reached for the jar of marinara sauce.

You twisted the lid. It didn’t budge.

You tried again, using more force.

Nothing.

Your irritation flared. “Oh, come on.”

You adjusted your grip, twisting as hard as you could.

Still nothing.

“Are you kidding me?” you grumbled, your voice rising in frustration.

You tried once more, gritting your teeth.

The lid didn’t move an inch.

“For the love of—” You slammed the jar down onto the counter with a frustrated huff. “This is so stupid! I swear to God—”

From the other room, Billie’s voice drifted in. “You okay in there?”

You froze, debating whether to answer.

A second later, you heard the studio door creak open, followed by the sound of Billie’s footsteps approaching.

And then she was there, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, one brow raised. “Are you losing a fight with a jar of sauce?”

You scowled. “I got it.”

Billie smirked, strolling over casually. “Oh yeah? ‘Cause it sounded like you were about to throw hands with it.”

You huffed, gripping the jar again and twisting with all your might.

It still didn’t move.

Billie snorted. “Babe.”

You ignored her.

She took another step forward. “Come on, let me help.”

You hesitated, still feeling stubborn.

“I got it,” you muttered, trying one last time.

The lid remained firmly shut.

Billie sighed, reaching out. “Baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You clenched your jaw but relented, handing over the jar without meeting her eyes.

With one swift motion, Billie popped the lid open effortlessly.

You gaped at her. “Are you serious?”

She wiggled her fingers. “Strong hands, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the jar, but Billie didn’t let go just yet. Instead, she looked at you carefully, her teasing smile fading into something softer.

“You know you can ask me for help, right?” she said gently.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling silly. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Billie frowned. “Bother me? Babe, you never bother me.” She tilted her head. “Is this about our argument?”

You hesitated, then let out a slow breath. “I just… we both needed space, and I didn’t wanna—I don’t know, break the truce?”

Billie’s face softened. “Baby,” she murmured, setting the jar down before wrapping her arms around you. “There’s no truce to break. Just because we got a little irritated with each other doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop taking care of you.”

Your body melted against hers, the fight fully fading now.

“I hate arguing with you,” you admitted quietly.

Billie pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Me too.”

You sighed against her, your fingers gripping the fabric of her hoodie. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes warm. “I’m sorry, too.”

She nudged her nose against yours, smiling. “Truce?”

You nodded, looping your arms around her neck. “Truce.”

Billie grinned, swaying you slightly. “Wanna finish dinner together?”

You exhaled, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah.”

So you did.

Billie stayed close, helping you stir the sauce, sneaking little kisses to your cheek whenever you weren’t looking. Every so often, she whispered something dumb just to make you laugh, and by the time you sat down to eat, it was like the fight had never happened.

And when Billie reached across the table to lace her fingers with yours, her thumb gently rubbing over your skin, you knew that no matter how many little arguments you might have, you’d always come back to this—to each other.

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[wlw-multi-fandom-imagines]

I’m not sure if your requests are open but uhmmm, can I request for a Lena Luthor x Reader where they are both CEO but reader is from Gotham (kinda like Bruce Wayne but with less tragedy, simply just wanna help tho they did become a vigilante). They met in a bar after some conference in Gotham (she needed all the drink especially when they snide and be ahole towards her bc of what happened with Lex) Anyway, unbesknown to Lena who the reader is until they brought her to their apartment. Lena snooped when they woke up and yk saw this and maybe partnership then become something more? Smut if you’re confortable with it? Tbh im rambling but yeah😅

-🐎

"Ms. Luthor?"

Lena looked up from her phone to see a fresh drink in front of her at the bar and arched an eyebrow at the man who had delivered it.

"Compliments of your friend at the end of the bar," he explained, nodding to his left. Lena's gaze ventured in that direction, scanning down the line of distracted conference-goers until she finally locked eyes with you.

"Oh God," the CEO muttered to herself and forced a smile. Truth be told, she wasn't sure she had the energy to navigate this encounter after the last 24 hours. The conference had been a minefield of questions and sneering comments regarding her brother and, even worse, her mother at times. Lena had forced herself to come, mostly to spare anyone else at L-Corp the treatment she was getting, but had already debated finding a redeye back to National City several times that evening.

Lena braced herself as you stood up from your barstool and started weaving your way towards her through the crowd of folks desperately trying to network with one another. You had quite a reputation amonst the high society members in Gotham, and word traveled to National City every so often regarding your most recent escapades and scandals. When you weren't busy greenlighting exposés about Gotham's most famous (and infamous) residents or breaking the latest story about the up and coming vigilante that had recently captured the media's attention, you were known to frequent many a nightclub throughout the entertainment district.

"Lena Luthor," you said, stretching out your hand as you finally reached her. "I was hoping I'd run into you this weekend."

"Is that so?" Lena responded cautiously, well aware that you were not above using this conference to gather intel for the team of ruthless journalists at your disposal. "I hate to disappoint, but I'm absolutely off the record for the next 48 hours."

"That's smart - I wouldn't trust any of the slimeballs attending this thing either," you said, ignoring the several dirty looks from the men to your left that had overheard the comment. A grin crossed your features as Lena chuckled at the remark. "I was hoping you'd accept my invitation to blow off a little steam and let me show you around a little. You are a guest in our city, after all."

Lena reached for her drink and sipped it to buy herself enough time to think of a response. Despite your reputation, she really hadn't expected you to be this forward. And although she was fairly certain your motives couldn't be that altruistic, she didn't sense the same disdain from you that she had felt from the rest of "Gotham's Finest".

"I'm not quite sure I'm up for a night on the town, Y/N. Although I do very much appreciate the offer."

"Come on, you really don't want to blow off this sausage fest?" you groaned, once again catching the attention of the conference-goers beside you. This time however, you noticed and shot a glare back at them before locking your eyes back on Lena.

"Fine," she sighed in defeat, then downed the rest of the drink you had bought her with a grimace. "Although I have a feeling you're up to something."

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

Lena wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the nearly deafening music, or the flashing lights at the nightclub you had brought her to, but it wasn't long before she dropped her defenses and allowed you to lead her out onto the crowded dance floor. For the first time in a long time, Lena found herself unconcerned with whether or not anyone was staring at her or whispering something about. Instead, she enjoyed the blissful anonymity the club offered and the lingering effects of the joint the two of you had shared on the ride over in your town car.

At first, the two of you traded off dancing with the endless rotation of club-goers in your vicinity. It was only after Lena left to grab another round of drinks and returned to see a rather enthusiastic young woman practically wrapping herself around you that the energy shifted. As the two of you locked eyes, you smirked and arched an eyebrow. The dark-hared CEO's gaze hardened as she weaved her way closer and closer, watching the way your hands gripped the other woman's hips and helped to guide her movements.

"Mind if I cut in?" Lena's voice was just barely audible above the music, but her expression got the message across loud and clear. Your dance partner disappeared into the crowd with a reluctant parting glance your way, but you had already fixed your eyes back onto Lena.

"Thanks," you mouthed, taking one of the drinks from her hand and gulping at least half of it down. By the time you lowered your head and swallowed the overpriced whiskey and Coke, Lena had dropped her last bit of restraint and closed the distance between you.

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

The rest of the night escalated quickly between the two of you and it wasn't long before you were on your way back to your apartment, struggling to keep your hands off of one another in the back of the town car that had dropped you off. As the drive finally turned down your street and began approaching your block, you used one hand to fish your keys and a few hundred dollar bills out of your pocket.

"Take tomorrow off, Jim," you said, glancing at your driver apologetically. You separated yourself from Lena's touch just long enough to place the money in the passenger seat. "Sorry for the late night."

"Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N, it was no trouble at all. Have a good rest of your evening," the man responded, knowing the two of you would likely scramble out of the back before he could get around to open the door for you. To his credit, the moment the car came to a stop you did exactly that. Jim watched until the two of you made it safely into the ritzy apartment building, then pulled away to begin his well-deserved time off.

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

To be honest, you had already considered the night a success by the time you were turning the key in your apartment door. Although your status and reputation with a fair amount of women in Gotham certainly gave you reasons to be confident, you had not deluded yourself into thinking Lena Luthor would fall for the same song and dance just as easily. You were just hoping to crack the first few lines of defense to see what was laying beneath that oh-so-serious exterior.

"Well, this is it," you announced, opening the door into the large condo that you had called home for the past year. Although the dwelling was by no means modest at first glance, the real main attraction was the spacious vault below the living space.

"Very...dark," Lena noted, glancing around at the lavish, dimly-lit space. "And somehow exactly what I was expecting."

"Oh, does that mean you've imagined me bringing you back to my apartment, Ms. Luthor?"

Lena's cheeks burned at the teasing accusation and she suddenly felt very, very self-conscious under your gaze. Despite the alcohol in her system, she was clear-headed enough to know that she had broken just about every rule she had set for herself before coming to Gotham yesterday. And now here she was, alone with you in your apartment, trying to ignore the subtle heat throbbing between her legs.

"No comment," the brunette responded, knowing you had probably heard that at least once a day your entire adult life. "Besides, you're the one who approached me tonight. I planned on turning in early and ordering room service at the hotel."

"I did, didn't I? Well, what can I say?" you shrugged, turning towards the hallway that led to your den. "I have a hard time not going after what I want, if you couldn't tell."

Lena followed you down the hall, fighting the burning feeling in her cheeks once again because of your words. For someone who spent a majority of her time in boardrooms verbally sparring with others, she was having a hell of a time keeping up with this conversation. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing her sputter for a response, the CEO decided to use your blunt approach right back at you.

"And what is it exactly that you want from me?"

"Oh, that's easy. I wanted to see what was behind that tough Luthor exterior that everyone else seems so threatened by. After so many years hearing the rumors and reading the headlines, I just needed to see it for myself," you said, reclining into a nearby sofa. Lena felt something twinge in her stomach as you stretched out and your shirt lifted slightly, exposing your hips. She froze for a second as her brain debated sitting beside you or following the more carnal urge she felt to climb on top, pin you down, and wipe that stupid smirk off your face.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

That was the smart-ass straw that broke the camels back that night. Lena closed the distance between the two of you faster than you were expecting, and for the first time all night she finally got the upper hand, albeit only for a brief moment. Her lips crashed against yours, needy and desperate from the tension that had been building since the two of you left the conference hotel hours earlier. You met her with equal intensity after the few seconds of shock passed and just as she settled into her spot on your lap, you made your move and flipped the two of you so that she was underneath.

"Fuck," Lena gasped as you pinned her against the sofa and hovered over her, watching her reaction to the surprise change in position. Something about the way she was looking back up at you let you know that your gut feeling had been right - Lena Luthor, despite all her prowess and reputation, had quite a submissive side.

"I always wondered what you would look like from this angle," you mused, cupping her face in one of your hands and tracing your thumb lightly across her cheek. To her credit, Lena forced herself to hold your gaze despite the way it was making her heart hammer in her chest. Testing the waters, you briefly brushed her bottom lip with her thumb and watched as her mouth opened slightly in response.

"Good girl," you encouraged her, then sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as she opened and wrapped her lips around your thumb, tongue swirling against it inside her mouth. God, she was good with her mouth.

Removing your hand, you leaned down to kiss her again, reveling in how easily her lips moved in sync with yours and the sound of her heavy breathing in the dark room. As another minute or so passed, her hips pressed up against yours in a desperate bid for pressure in the place she wanted it most. And while it wasn't usually in your nature to give into things so easily, there was something about Lena that made you feel uncharacteristically desperate to please. When she reached up to guide your hand towards the zipper on the side of her dress, you didn't bother making her say "please" before undoing it and helping her to free herself from the designer garment.

"God damn," you muttered breathlessly, eyes surveying the newly exposed porcelain skin. "Look at you."

"Your turn," she challenged, staring up at you expectantly. If you hadn't taken quite so many shots back at the club, you might have remembered to make up an excuse for keeping your shirt on to hide the recent evidence of one of your vigilante escapades. Unaware that Lena could now see the half-healed bruises that marred your torso, you shrugged your dress-shirt off and tossed it to the side. It wasn't until you noticed her eyebrows furrow in confusion that you realized your careless mistake.

"Oh, these? I started taking some self-defense classes last month and as you can see, I have a bit to learn," you explained quickly, hoping that Lena was distracted enough by your body not to question it. To your relief, she seemed to accept the explanation easily enough once you started unbuckling your belt.

"I suppose I'd probably be interested in self-defense classes too if I lived in Gotham," she replied and sat forward on the couch. Goosebumps rose across the bruised flesh on your stomach as her fingertips brushed the skin above the waistband of your underwear. "Need some help with these?"

You nodded and allowed her to slowly slide the briefs down your legs to the floor. What you were not expecting was for her to follow, positioning herself on her knees at your feet. Her hands trailed back up your legs slowly, coming to rest on your hips. You didn't know it, but Lena was practically salivating at the thought of what you would taste like and what kind of noises you might make if she leaned in and flicked her tongue between your legs. Despite how badly she wanted to see that reaction for herself, the brunette forced herself to settle with a few light kisses on your inner thigh to start with.

Even that got quite a reaction out of you, and the CEO couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her lips as your eyes fluttered shut and your jaw clenched. As she worked her way closer to your groin, she felt the muscles in your legs tighten in anticipation and savored the reaction the way she had savored you calling her a good girl earlier. Your hips rolled forward as she finally pressed her lips against your cunt and sucked your clit into her mouth.

"Fuck, Lena," you groaned, one hand coming down to brace yourself on her shoulder while the other tangled itself in her hair. Her tongue found a slow, steady rhythm as it slid back and forth across your clit and you were powerless to stop your hips from thrusting forward to meet each stroke. "Oh my God, you feel so fucking good."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the sheer fact that you had one of the most powerful women in National City down on her knees for you, but it wasn't long before you were struggling to keep your legs from buckling.

"I'm close," you panted out, bucking against her desperately as she lapped between your legs. Her pace didn't falter despite the way the string of moans that followed the admission made her ears burn. Lena's hands slipped from your hips to your ass, massaging the soft flesh and guiding your movements against her as you started to climax. Her green eyes glanced upwards to study your features as a string of nearly incoherent curse words spilled from your lips, intermixed with your ragged breathing.

Lena leaned back to rest on her heels, knees burning from kneeling on the hardwood floor, and wiped her mouth as you opened your eyes and fought to catch your breath. Despite the way your legs still quivered from the aftershocks of the orgasm she had just given you, you pulled the woman to her feet and kissed her, tasting yourself on her swollen lips.

"What do you want?" you murmured, pulling back just enough to utter the question. Lena looked hesitant for a moment, as if she knew the answer but didn't want to admit it. You waited, watching her squirm at the idea of having to vocalize her desire.

"Do you have a strap?" she asked finally, her voice low and slightly raspy from having to shout over the deafening music at the club.

"I do," you nodded, trailing a few of your fingertips up and down her side. Despite how dark the room was, you swore you saw her pupils dialate at the answer. "What exactly do you want me to do with it?"

She huffed in a mix of frustration and embarrassment, but the gnawing desire in her groin was too much to bear.

"I want you to fuck me, please," she hissed, practically dizzy to feel you inside her.

"That's all I needed to hear. I'll be right back," you relented, satisfied with her answer. Leaving her in the den, you took your time on the way to your bedroom and used it as an opportunity to fully catch your breath. The adrenaline flooding your system tonight was better than anything a night fighting crime in Gotham could compare to, and you did your best to keep your hands from shaking as you rooted through your nightstand drawers for your harness and a bottle of lube.

Well aware that Lena was perceptive enough to notice you fumbling with the straps, you saved yourself the embarrassment and elected to put the harness on in your bedroom before heading back to the den. As you rounded the corner in the hallway that led you back to her, you caught sight of the way she had already positioned herself for you on the couch and your pulse began to race again.

"You desperate little thing," you teased, admiring the way she looked on her hands and knees, back arched for you. She had also shed her underwear, allowing you to see all of her for the first time. Lena didn't turn her head back to look at you, but you noticed the muscles in her arms flexing in anticipation as you came to a stop behind her.

Lena stifled a moan as you kneeled behind her on the couch and reached around to shove a hand between her legs. She was practically dripping for you, heat radiating from the slick folds as you rubbed her clit in circles.

"Y/N," she whimpered, grinding back against your hand and feeling the tip of your strap-on poking against her entrance. Rather than beg, Lena reached back with her hand and guided the toy into herself as you watched in a mix of amusement and pure arousal. Too turned on to deny her any longer, you gently thrust into her and then paused, allowing her a moment to adjust.

Lena gasped as you entered her fully, dropping down onto her forearms and sinking her nails into the fabric of the couch.

"Oh my God," she whimpered, grinding back against you and the toy. The brunette bit into her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood to stop herself from saying anything else as you started to thrust in and out of her. She managed to contain herself at first, but as your pace quickened and each stroke felt deeper than the last, her last bit of restraint melted and her moans echoed off of the walls of the den. Eventually, her hand replaced your own between her legs and she rubbed her clit in furious circles as your hips slammed against her ass relentlessly.

"Harder," Lena choked out between sounds of pleasure. Always happy to oblige that request, you snagged a throw pillow from nearby and shoved it under her hips. The heiress hardly had time to react before you you drove her down flat against the cushions, pinning her to the couch beneath you with renewed vigor. Her free hand reached around to grasp at you, fingernails digging into the flesh on your forearm as you buried yourself into her over and over again.

"Oh my God, please don't fucking stop," she choked out, burying her face into the expensive sofa to stifle a ragged series of moans. "I-I think I'm going to come."

"You're gonna come for me, huh? I better hear my fucking name when you do, Lena," you grunted, catching her by surprise with a quick smack across her ass.

"Mmhmm," she whimpered as her orgasm continued to build. "Fuck, I can't...I can't, oh my God, Y/N."

Seconds later, the dark-haired woman was unraveling beneath you, hips bucking wildly back against your own as her walls clenched around the strap-on. As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, you waited for her grip to loosen on your arm before slowly pulling out of her and rising to your feet to free yourself from the harness.

"Goddamn," you panted, stepping out of the strap-on and setting it aside. "You are...something else, Lena Luthor."

The brunette rolled over, a bashful smile spreading across her flushed features as her chest continued to heave up and down.

"I could say the same thing about you," she replied, watching as you pushed your sweat-soaked hair back out of your eyes to see her better. As you did, she caught sight of a small tattoo on your wrist and as soon as you noticed, you felt your stomach lurch.

"What's that?" she asked, standing up off of the couch and reaching for the wrist you were now holding behind your back.

"Oh, that?" you stammered out, unable to hide the nerves in your voice. "Just a stupid little thing I got done with my roommates in college."

Lena didn't buy it for a second. She had spent almost an hour helping Kara pick through images of the Gotham vigilante for her article earlier in the week, and as a result, she knew damn well she had seen the same symbol poking out from under their sleeve in at least 4 different photos.

"Is that so? You know, I think one of your old roommates just might be the vigilante that's been running around lately. Is that why you started taking self-defense classes? Planning on joining her?"

"Fuck, fine, you caught me," you gave in, panic flooding your chest. Lena wasn't exactly the type of person you could bribe to keep a secret. "Please don't tell anyone. I'm still figuring this shit out and I just need a little time to work out the kinks-"

"Y/N, relax," Lena dismissed your concerns with a wave. "Remember what I told you earlier? Everything is off the record tonight. As long as I don't have to worry about you sharing anything about tonight, your secret is safe with me."

"Deal," you nodded eagerly.

[onceonafullmoon]

French Fries

Itoshi Sae x GN!Reader

Comfort Angst, Reader has depression, bed rotting behaviors, desciptions of food if you're sensitive to that thing, one slightly suggestive comment but it's just banter, Reader and Sae aren't dating atp but they have chemistry

“Jeez, you’re like a human garbage disposal.” Sae remarks. “Do you talk to all your loved ones like that?” “Me talking to you in general is a miracle.”

It’s getting worse again.

You could feel it building up in these past months, that looming sense that something was going to happen, but you elected to ignore it wholly, placing belief that your meds surely wouldn’t fail you this time, right?

Wrong.

Well, you supposed you only had yourself to blame, (although blame was something you were realizing that you were all to familiar with, and if you were a bit more lucid you’d contemplate how your willingness to find fault in yourself so easily was only more of a detriment) for relying on newly prescribed medication solely instead of reaching out for a therapist like you were meaning to do.

But either way, whomever was to blame, either you or your psychiatrist, it didn’t change the fact that your apartment is a cluttered mess and you haven’t gotten out of bed for a considerable amount of time, doing nothing but staring listlessly at the wall.

It’s hard to describe exactly what getting worse feels like, but if you had to take your own stab at it you'd describe it as something like an endothermic reaction.

Something that saps away all your heat, your drive, your determination, and leaves you feeling… cold, like a sudden frost of winter almost.

Of course, cold isn’t really the way to describe it either, the most common words you’ve seen thrown around being “empty, nothingness, hollow” and those fit rather well too, but you preferred to think of it in terms of a chemical reaction.

It was fitting in a sense, because much like a chemical reaction, you weren’t ever the same as you were from the beginning, almost always just a little worse for wear after each period of despair. 

It’s around this time when you’re debating metaphors for your mental illness when you feel your phone vibrate on your bed.

Huh. That’s a first.

Well, you’re curious enough to take a peak, though it’s most likely just some dumb notification from a social media app you’ve neglected to look at even during your period of lengthy doom scrolling (fuck you Snapchat, you’re not an interesting app), but after you look at the time displayed on the screen (1:00 am, nice)  you find yourself pleasantly surprised when you realize it’s a text message.

Pookie: are you ok

Normally the stupid contact name you put him under would be enough to make you crack a smile whenever he texted, but you can’t really bring yourself to do much else but stare at your phone blankly.

Sae was never one to text first, in fact, a quick scroll through your messages would show it was usually you who would pester him with asinine questions about hypothetical scenarios, TikToks or general ramblings about your day, with him giving out one word responses (dry texter) or often ignoring you (which was fair you supposed). 

So, it was strange to see his text expressing concern for you, especially at this time of night.

Of course, Sae knew about your issues, you were never one to shy away from the truth and easily answered him about your meds when he asked about them that time he came over, but you don’t think he had any reason to suspect you of having an episode.

You think for a bit, running through your mind of any possible reasons you could have given him to worry and find that you can’t really place anything other than the fact that you’d been withdrawing a bit from texting and hanging out with him a bit more, which, to his knowledge could be for any sort of reason.

You furrow your brow a bit before turning your attention back to your phone and typing out a quick response of  “tbh, not really, but that’s life lol” before dropping your phone back on your bed and going back to stare at the wall.

He doesn’t respond, but you’re not really too surprised (though if you had the capacity for it you’d be slightly miffed), and you find yourself dozing off into a light sleep.

You probably would have actually fallen asleep if it weren’t for the sound of pounding at your front door, and you feel yourself sigh in annoyance before groggily getting up out of bed.

Damn it all, you couldn’t even sleep to escape the void.

Still you get over yourself and make your way to the door, looking through the peephole tiredly before freezing in place.

You’re not sure if you’re more surprised that Sae is at your front door or if you’re more surprised to see him with a greasy paper bag of fast food in his hands.

Blinking out of your stupor, you regain your senses and unlock the door for him, distantly remarking about how strange it must seem for a celebrity to be at your door with a bag of Mcdonalds in your mind.

You open the door to tell him how ridiculous this scenario seems, only to let out a small noise of surprise as he shoves the bag in your hands.

“You look like shit.” He says, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his blunt assessment.

“I feel like shit.” You respond, before looking down into the bag, taking in its contents.

“You got fries?” You can’t help the smile that pulls on your lips. “But you hate fries.”

He just looks at you with that same unreadable look he always has, the one that only you seem to be able to understand. “But you don’t.”

“I don’t.” You say, a feeling of happiness blooming within you despite everything, and step aside for him to enter your messy apartment.

You should feel a sense of embarrassment at the idea of letting him see you at your worst, with your undone laundry and your unwashed dishes and your messy countertops, but you’ve never once felt the need to pretend with Sae.

“Make yourself at home wherever you can.” You say, motioning to the couch overcrowded with laundry. “I wasn’t expecting guests, you know.”

“Clearly.” He says, but his voice holds no judgment.

“You're at fault for dropping in uninvited.” You say in a relatively cheerful voice, betraying your happiness despite his seemingly uncouth behavior. 

He doesn’t respond snatches the bag from your hands, dumping its contents onto the small coffee table that currently is the only clear space available in the mess that is your apartment before gently pushing away the laundry that lies on the couch to make room for himself.

“...are you going to scold me or eat?” He eventually asks after settling in.

“There’s no reason I can’t do both.” You say in a joking tone.

You push aside your pile of laundry and sit down next to him, your stomach rumbling when the scent of fried food hits your nose. It wasn’t too surprising, after all, you had forgotten to eat in your rotting phase. 

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You say, reaching for a wrapped sandwich.

“Only when I do things for you.” Comes his dry response, and you give him a sheepish smile before taking a bite of the sandwich, momentarily praising the salty and savory taste.

It’s like you forgot how hungry you were until you had a bite of food, and with an alarming speed the sandwich quickly disappears into nothing.

“Jeez, you’re like a human garbage disposal.” Sae remarks.

“Do you talk to all your loved ones like that?”

“Me talking to you in general is a miracle.”

You scoff and put your hand over your heart in an overexaggerated manner, feigning an imaginary wound from his callous and barbed words that were clearly much too painful to bear.

“You’re cruel.” You say, before reaching for the carton of fries and holding it up to him. “Care for a fry?”

It’s mostly said in jest, after all, you’ve been on the receiving end of a lecture of how disgustingly fatty and unhealthy those “diabetes on sticks” are, but he surprises you by taking one without a word and popping it into his mouth.

You blink, staring at him as if he’s grown a second head.

“Are you okay?” You ask, echoing his text from before.

He rolls his eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate how fries taste, they’re just awful for your diet.”

“So why are you breaking your sacred oath?” You ask, shoving a few fries in your mouth after you speak.

“Peer pressure.”

You furrow your brows at him, but don’t immediately respond, instead swallowing and shoving another handful of fries into your mouth (you’ve long held the belief that those like Sae who eat one fry at a time are actually sociopaths).

“I think you just like using me as a scapegoat for your bad decisions.” You say after another swallow.

“I think you should slow down so you don’t choke.”

“I can think of a few things I could choke on.” You respond reflexively to which you’re met with a blank stare.

“…sorry, it’s instinct at this point.” You say after a bit, to which he just sighs.

“You’re a moron.” He says, and you would have considered it rude in any other scenario where you didn’t know him as the guy who dropped everything to help you on a whim.

“Yeah, but I make up for it in other ways, such as my amazing personality.” You retort, stuffing another handful of fries in your mouth.

“It’s a shame that your “amazing personality” doesn’t account for basic table manners.”

You glower at him, chewing before swallowing.

“It’s a shame that your face is so pretty but your attitude is so shit.”

You can see a hint of a smile on his face at your snappish comeback, his teal eyes glinting with slight amusement and you blink, feeling slightly startled as your heart stutters in your chest.

Weird. 

You’ll unpack that later, perhaps on a day where you don’t feel like complete ass.

“Anyway, what gave you the idea to invite yourself over? Not that I mind, obviously.” You ask, partly out of curiosity and partly to distract yourself.

Sae shifts a bit in his seat, and you catch yourself admiring the sight of his forearms for a second before you snap yourself out of it.

“...you haven’t been reaching out as much, and I missed the background noise.”

You look at him, really look at him for a second, and fight the urge to either laugh at him or throw a pillow at him.

It was so stupidly cute, how he’d do anything but actually verbally admit that some part of him cared.

“You are such a loser.” You end up saying instead, with a stupidly fond smile on your face that you’d definitely be more embarrassed by if you weren’t already above shame.

“And you’re a mess.” Sae counters easily, sticking another fry into his mouth, and it somehow still takes you by surprise.

“Yeah, I’ll take that.” You say with a surprising amount of grace for someone dressed in pajamas and adorned with the world's worst bed head. “But only for today.”

He says nothing at that and proceeds to follow your lead and stuff the rest of the fries into his mouth, and at this point you wonder if you’ve managed to transfer your mental illness to him somehow through the air.

“You can’t blame that on peer pressure.” You say defensively, crossing your hands over your chest as he swallows his food.

“I’m not blaming it on peer pressure.” 

“Then what’s your excuse this time?”

“I’ll say it’s learned observation.”

“Don’t use my psychology knowledge that I’ve rambled to you about against me, it makes me want to kiss you.” You joke.

You expect him to roll his eyes at you and insult you, but what you don’t expect is for him to raise a brow at you, a half smirk on his face and respond with a smooth and low toned, “Yeah?”

“...yeah.” You say after a bit, trying not to look like you just got hit with a bus before coughing and looking away.

“Anyway, thanks for stopping by… it meant a lot. I’ll probably clean up around here now if you need to go.” You speak up after a moment of silence.

“You’re an idiot.” He responds, and you blink at him, ready to ask what he’s talking about before he speaks up again. “What you’re going to do is go to your bathroom and clean up while I deal with the mess here.”

You pause for a moment, a rush of emotions surging up in you, a dash of self-loathing, a bit of embarrassment, a touch of happiness but mostly a rush of gratitude and adoration when you look back at him.

“...right.” You say, and a small smile pulls at your lips. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Like I said before, only when I do things for you” Comes his blunt response and you laugh as you turn to go to the bathroom.

Yeah, you’re not sure how exactly you lucked out with Sae, but wherever or whatever he might be in the future, he’d always be a special person to you.

[hwnglx]

slay mama 💅🏻

karina's reputation among idols

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

female idols

karina is seen as an idol with a lot of energy, who gets things done quickly. like she isn't the type to be lazy, too comfortable or boring at all. there's this fast-paced “okay, let's get this done!” vibe to her. very passionate, fast-moving and enthusiastic. also very talkative. like this girl will voice her opinion, no doubt about it. this is understandable due to her leader position, but i can see her being the voice of the group, even amidst other idols. she speaks up for the group, takes matters into her own hands. i keep seeing her standing in front of her members, almost like this big sister you need to get past before you get to the rest of the group.

her reputation among female idols, seems very good. she's beautiful, and has a powerful and strong presence in their eyes. like if karina enters the room, you can't help but notice her. she turns heads and attracts a lot of attention. they think she's this very confident, self-assured and independent woman who knows exactly what she wants, a lot of assertive and dominant energy in her. she's also very supportive, caring and nurturing in their eyes. like she looks after the people she's with in this gentle and courteous manner. in their eyes, she displays a person who balances her fiery and passionate, but soft and feminine energy in a very pleasant way. i can see many female idols just truly liking being around her, she has this warm energy where she just makes you feel invited, welcomed and taken care of. she radiates and spreads a lot of positive vibes, and draws people in with her natural charisma.

many female idols also have the desire to work or collaborate with her. they think she has a lot of profitability, and very universally likeable and commercial appeal that brings in a big audience. honestly, the big picture here is, that they just view her as a person who has it all. very well-rounded idol who gives off the impression that she was made for this job, but is also a commendable and delightful person to be around.

male idols

male idols join the female idols in thinking karina is very opinionated. there is a bit more of a bitter undertone here though, where it seems to intimidate them. they believe she will definitely not miss a chance to speak her mind, and defend herself or the people around her if the situation asks for it. there seems to be this reputation of her debating a lot. not just for herself, but especially when it comes to the people she cares about. let's say there's a bunch of people in a room and you find yourself in a conflict with someone who ends up as the underdog, best believe karina will be the one standing by their side till the very end. like literally take them under her wing, speak up and argue for them. i can sense male idols just thinking she is not to be messed with.

some male idols also might believe that she's likely to hide a lot of her even more aggressive and egoistical sides beneath a mask, and exactly knows what to do in order to get people on her side. like she's aware of what she needs to do to fool people into liking her. uses her charm to get what she wants, and is very calculated and deceptive. i can sense them thinking she's already a lot to deal with in their eyes, and must be even “worse” behind closed doors. tbh, she just seems like a girl's girl. i can see her fiercely standing behind her women, not being intimidated by the men at all, and the men being rubbed the wrong way about it. like “how dare she talk to us that way?” (telling you all these male idols are too used to women subsiding to them smh..)

there also seems to be a lot of gossip when it comes to her dating life. male idols think she juggles all these options, but doesn't give in to any of them. they think she likes the attention and validation from it, and just plays them all to fondle her ego. (i see this being more of a delusion though, many of them just want to believe they're an option. i don't see her engaging with them much)

there is a lot of wishful thinking and longing to get with her on many idols' side, however it mostly remains as a fantasy in their heads. it just stays as this burden on their back. they can't actually approach her comfortably, because they feel like they're unlikely to succeed anyway. they'd just be another failed try in her list of rejected admirers. ego plays a big role in here as well. it's giving.. “if i get to be with her, then that'd make me the guy who stood out.” however being rejected by her, scratches their ego twice as much. so they just stay put. basically, karina has these men at the palm of her hands.

[cherry-holmes]

From Salt, Iron, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮: A Supernatural Series

(Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader)

Part 7: The Sin of the Innocent

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Dean didn’t know how to handle things with you. Not until he was forced to face the truth: he didn’t want to lose you.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.6K

Warnings: Typical violence of the serie. Angst and a lot of feelings.

A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoy this chapter!😁

I’m currently working on Part 10 (yes, 10!) I’m struggling to fit all my ideas into the story… and oh boy, I really hope you like what’s coming🥺 I’m so excited, tbh!

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A soft knock sounded on the door, followed by the creak of the handle turning.

Dean stepped into the room, holding a tray of breakfast with three cups of coffee. His eyes scanned the room quickly, his gaze landing on Sam, who was sitting at the small desk, typing on his laptop.

Dean hesitated, then set the tray down on the table. "Where's Claire?" His voice was almost gentle, trying to act as normal as possible.

Truth was, he had barely slept last night.

The memory of your lips on his, the hurt in your eyes, the pain he had caused you... it all burned deep inside his chest, a mix of guilt, shame, and desire.

Damn it.

He hated himself the second that words left his mouth back on the gas station. Every one of them had been a lie. Meant to hurt. Meant to push you away. And God, did it work.

Deeply, he knew he wasn't the kind of guy who got to have things like that. Real, soft things. People who looked at him like you did. He just ruined everything he touched.

Better she hates me now than dies later loving me, he thought all night.

So he tried to burned the bridge before it could be built. But as the saying went: where there's been fire, ashes always remain. And his refuse to settle down.

No with the way you moved his world. How he couldn't bear the thought of making you cry. Not when you were too soft, too sweet, too beautiful for someone too cursed like him. And yet, he still kissed you. Again. 

And now he was wondering if it was a mistake. Not because he didn't like it or wanted, but because he couldn't get enough.

Sam didn't look up from his laptop but answered in a calm voice, "I saw her by the pool this morning, feet in the water. She was still there when I returned from my morning run."

Dean's brow furrowed. "You sure?"

Sam nodded, finally looking up at his brother. "Yeah, man. I'm telling you."

Dean's heart sank. "I went for breakfast, and I didn't see her. When I came back, she wasn't there either."

His first instinct was to go after you, but he didn't want to sound too worried, even though he felt it gnawing at him. "You think she's just... walking around?" His voice sounded less convincing.

"Maybe," Sam said, his tone turning more serious. "I mean, she seems to run away every time she interacts with you. Seriously, what's up with you guys?"

Dean looked at him, jaw tight, clearly debating whether to say anything. Finally, he let out a frustrated breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"I kissed her," he muttered.

Sam blinked. "You what?"

Dean shifted his weight like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "Twice," he admitted, voice low. "First time... she kissed me. Last night was me."

Sam leaned back against the motel table, arms crossed. "Okay. So why's she running from you like you're the damn plague?"

Dean shook his head, the guilt plain on his face. "Because I keep screwing it up. I kissed her, and then I freaked out. Said a bunch of crap I didn't mean, tried to act like it didn't matter."

"Why?"

Dean hesitated, then said, almost in a whisper, "Because it matters too much."

The words hung there between them, heavier than either of them expected.

Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Dean, you seriously couldn't have picked a worse time to have a crisis."

Dean nodded grimly. "I'm not gonna lose her, Sam."

"Don't worry," Sam tried to reassure him, closing his laptop and heading to the door. "Let's check around the pool."

The quiet atmosphere of the motel only added to the unease gnawing at Dean's gut. He kept his eyes scanning the grounds, hoping to see you somewhere, anywhere. When they reached the pool area, Dean's breath caught in his throat.

There, by the side of the pool, were your boots, abandoned in the grass. Floating in the water, a pair of yellow socks.

"She wouldn't just leave these here," Dean muttered, crouching down to examine them.

Sam's face darkened. "No, she wouldn't."

Dean stood up quickly, his hands clenching into fists. "This doesn't feel right."

"I don't think it's a coincidence," Sam said, locking eyes with Dean. "Bobby called this morning. Apparently the thing we're hunting... it's targeting virgins."

Dean stared at him for a moment, the news settling like a stone in his stomach. "You think Claire...?"

"I'm not sure," Sam interrupted, his voice strained. "But, think about it: she's from 1815. Women were expected to remain pure until marriage. It makes sense if she..."

Dean cut him off. "Son of a bitch." His heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn't afford to think anything else.

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice calm but firm. "We need to find her. Now."

Dean nodded, a tight breath escaping his lungs. The clock was ticking, and he didn't want to think about what could happen if they were too late.

"Let's go," Dean muttered, already turning on his heel. He needed to find you before it was too late.

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You woke with a jolt, your head pounding. You tried to sit up, but your limbs felt like lead. Your fingers scraped the rough stone beneath you, and a wave of panic swept over you as you blinked into the dim, stifling darkness.

The last thing you remembered was your reflection in the pool, the morning breeze caressing your hair. You were lost in your own thoughts, everything that had happened in your life over the past weeks: the lack of memory, your fear, your dreams, the Winchesters, Dean. And the next thing you knew, there was only darkness.

Then you woke up here. The air thick with dampness and death. A chilling breeze cut through the open cavern, sending shivers down your spine. But it wasn't the cold that terrified you: it was the sight of the other girls. Huddled in a tight group against the far wall, their eyes wide with fear, their faces pale from exhaustion and terror. You immediately knew that you were another of the missing girls in town.

For God’s sake. This was definitely the worst moment to have your first hangover.

You took in a sharp breath, trying to steady yourself. The throbbing pain in your head made it hard to think clearly. But you couldn't waste any more time. You had to get them out of here.

The dead girl lying motionless beside them caught your eye, her face frozen in an expression of terror that sent a chill through your chest. The thought of what might happen to the others if you didn't act quickly made your stomach churn.

You rose shakily to your feet, pressing a hand against the cool stone wall for support. The room was eerily silent except for the quiet sobs of the remaining girls. Their eyes flicked nervously around the cave, like animals waiting to be hunted.

Focus, you reminded yourself, drawing on everything the Winchesters had taught you. Stay calm.

You took a step toward them, your voice low but firm. "Listen to me," you whispered, British accent cutting the air, doing your best to sound confident despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "My friends are looking for us. They'll be here soon. Meanwhile, we need to stick together. I need you to follow my lead."

One of the girls, a younger one with dirty blonde hair, looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. "W-what's happening? What's going to happen to us?"

You could feel the weight of her question pressing down on you, but you kept your composure, forcing a reassuring smile. "We're getting out of here. But we need to stay quiet, okay? No matter what, do not make a sound until I say so."

They nodded, their fear mingled with a spark of hope.

Your heart raced, but you kept it under control. You scanned the cave, looking for any kind of weapon, anything to use for protection. It was then that you saw it: a long, jagged branch lying a few feet away from you. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

You grabbed it, your fingers trembling as you tightened your grip. Your mind raced, knowing the creature wasn't far, and you didn't have much time. If you couldn't get them out of here, they would all die, including you.

The ground trembled slightly, and your breath hitched as a sound echoed from deeper within the cave. The thing was coming back. It was closer than you thought. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

"Get ready," you murmured to the girls, urging them to move closer to the wall. They huddled together, trembling. You glanced back once more before turning to face the dark, gaping opening of the cave.

A slow, menacing sound echoed from the shadows, like a distant growl, low and guttural, and enough to make your blood freeze. Then, you saw it.

The creature stepped out from the darkness, its long, gnarled limbs scraping against the stone floor. Its grotesque, twisted face was barely human, covered in jagged scars, eyes glowing in a shade of yellow. It moved in jerky motions, as though it didn't belong in this world. It was hungry, its twisted grin spreading as it sniffed the air.

"Bloody hell," you muttered under your breath.

You gripped the branch tighter, your knuckles turning white. You'd never been more terrified in your life, but there was no way you were going down without a fight.

It advanced slowly, deliberately, and you forced yourself to take a step forward, standing between the girls and the creature. The others held their breath, wide-eyed and frozen with fear.

"Stay back!" you shouted, your voice cracking with adrenaline. You knew it wouldn't help, but you had to try. The thing didn't stop, only letting out a slow, mocking growl in response.

Then it lunged, its claws reaching for you with unnatural speed.

You barely had time to react. Instinct kicked in, and you swung the branch with all your strength. The creature howled in pain as the jagged end of the branch sliced into its chest, but it didn't stop. Instead, it swiped at you, its claws raking across your side with a sickening rip of fabric and flesh.

You cried out, stumbling back. The pain was excruciating, but you pushed it down. The girls were counting on you.

You couldn't let them down.

"RUN!" you screamed at the girls. "Go! Get to the exit!"

But they hesitated, still frozen with fear.

"Now!" you barked. "Go!"

They ran, scrambling toward the cave entrance. You stood your ground, knowing that you had to keep the creature distracted for just a little longer. The pain in your side was overwhelming, but you kept fighting, using the branch to fend off its attacks. Every time it lunged, you fought back, forcing it to stay on the defensive.

The creature's growls were deafening now, its hunger palpable. It wasn't just after you, it wanted them too.

But just as you thought you couldn't take another second of the fight, you heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. A shot rang out, followed by another. The creature shrieked in agony, its body jerking as the bullets tore through it.

Dean appeared at the mouth of the cave, his face pale but determined, a shotgun in his hands. Sam was right behind him, aiming his own weapon.

Castiel stepped in beside them, his glowing hand outstretched as he used his grace to blast the creature back. The thing screamed in pain as it staggered backward, its body convulsing before it collapsed in a heap of ash.

"You okay?" Dean asked, rushing to your side.

You blinked, feeling your legs give out as the adrenaline faded, your body now screaming in protest. Dean caught you before you could fall, pulling you into his arms.

"I'm fine," you whispered, barely able to breathe as the exhaustion washed over you.

Sam knelt beside you, checking your injuries, his face soft with concern. Castiel moved toward the other girls, guiding them outside, making sure they were safe.

Dean stayed by your side, his hands resting on your waist, his gaze intense. "I've got you."

You didn't have the strength to respond. You were exhausted, your body aching, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe.

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Dean carried you inside, ignoring your weak protests. You tried to insist you could walk, that you were fine, but the second he set you down on the bed, your body betrayed you. You winced, curling slightly at the sharp sting in your side where the creature had clawed you.

Castiel had attempted to heal you, but Heaven had clipped his wings long ago for his betrayal, and what little power remained had burned out fighting the monster.

"I'm so sorry, Claire," he had said, visibly guilty of his impotence.

"Don't you worry, Cas, I'll be fine," you assured him with a little smile. "I just–don't understand... why me? I was in the pool one minute, and the next..."

Castiel looks at you then, head tilting slightly in that way of his when he's deciding how much truth he should say.

"The creature preyed exclusively on virgins," he says softly. "That is how it sensed you."

Your breath catches, and your eyes snap to his, but his expression doesn't waver. He's not mocking or judging. He's just... stating a fact.

The blood in your face rushes up, flooding your ears, your cheeks. You can't tell if it's humiliation or something more fragile, like the sharp sting of having something secret pulled into the light.

"Oh," you say.

Dean freezes mid-step, his jaw tightening. Neither of you dare to look the other in the eye. And you wish he wasn't that close to you checking on your wounds.

"We didn't know," Sam says after a beat. His voice is quieter than usual. "Not until Bobby figured it out. The, uh... pattern. It doesn't mean anything. I mean... It's not like..." he finally perceived the awkwardness in the room, and decides to shut up. "Never mind..."

You give a half-laugh, but it dies almost instantly.

"It's fine," you mumble, even though it isn't. Not really.

It's not the virginity, it's the vulnerability. The idea that something out there saw it in you, like a weakness written on your skin.

Dean looks like he wants to say something, but instead he just stands up and walks towards the bathroom. When he appears again, his holding a first aid kit in his hands.

"You go take the girls back to their families," he said to Sam and Cas. "I'll take care of her."

You were the only one to seem ready to argue, Sam and Cas already heading out the motel room.

Dean crouched in front of you, his brows knitted in stubborn determination. "Don't even think about arguing," he said, his voice low but firm. "You almost got ripped apart back there. Let me help."

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. This wasn't just about the scratches. This was about what could have happened. About what he'd almost lost. You swallowed hard and gave a small, reluctant nod.

He sat back on his heels, pulling your torn shirt gently aside to get a better look at your injuries. His hands were surprisingly careful, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he cleaned the wounds.

You hissed at the sting of the antiseptic, and Dean immediately paused, his green eyes flickering up to yours. "Sorry," he muttered, softer now. "Almost done."

"You don't have to do this," you said quietly, your voice hoarse.

Dean gave a dry chuckle as he wrapped gauze around your ribs. "Yeah, I do."

You looked away, blinking against the sudden sting of tears. You hated feeling weak. Especially in front of him.

When he finished bandaging you up, he sat back, studying you like he wasn't sure if he should say what he was thinking. Finally, he exhaled a heavy breath and spoke.

"You saved them, Claire," he said. "You kept your head. You fought back. You kept them safe until we got there."

You shook your head, the guilt rising in your throat. "One of them... she didn't make it."

Dean leaned forward, catching your gaze and holding it steady. "That's not on you. You saved three lives tonight. You did everything you could. You were... amazing."

Your lips trembled, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears that threatened to fall. No one had ever said something like that to you before. Well, it's not that you could remember, but something inside you feel like it was the first time someone really care about your accomplishments. Not like this, not with so much sincerity and pride.

Dean reached out, his hand hesitating for a second before resting gently on your knee. "I'm proud of you, deer," he said, so quietly you almost thought you imagined it.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest that had nothing to do with the pain or the exhaustion.

But it didn't last. The weight of the past few days came rushing back. The way he'd been distant, dismissive, cold. Like you hadn't shared anything. Like that kiss meant nothing.

You swallowed hard. "Don't do that, Dean."

He frowned. "Do what?"

"Be sweet. Kind. Like you care. Not when you've been pushing me away since it happened." You met his eyes, steady despite the ache in your body. "That kiss... it was a mistake."

His expression shattered for a second, just enough for you to see the truth beneath it all. "Don't say that."

"What else am I supposed to say? We kissed and then you spent two days pretending I didn't exist."

Dean looked down, guilt etched in every line of his face. "I freak out."

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

He nodded slowly, running a hand down his face. "Listen, I–I've lost so much... too much. And then you show up. Brave and smart and stubborn... sweet. You remind me there's something good left. And that kiss... it made me feel like I could still want something." He looked back up at you. "But I panicked. So I pushed you away like I always do. Because I always screw things up... Like I already did with you."

Your chest tightened. You reached for his hand without thinking, covering it with your own. "I get it, Dean" you said quietly. "You're scared. So am I. But fear isn't an excuse to treat someone like they don't matter."

Dean flinched, the truth landing hard. You can tell he was truly ashamed.

"You don't get to kiss me like that, treat me like you care, and then act like I imagined it," you went on, not harsh, just honest. "You don't get to look at me like... well, like how you're looking at me right now," both of you flushed. "And then just pretend I'm invisible. I've had enough people in my life make me feel like I was not enough. I won't let you be one of them."

He nodded slowly, the guilt in his eyes deepening. "You're right."

You looked at him, really looked at him. You saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight he carried on his shoulders. He looked like someone who hadn't rested in years, not truly.

Your hand reached for his face, hesitant at first, but when your fingers touched his skin, he leaned into it instantly, like he couldn't help himself. He melted into your palm, childlike, as if your touch was the first kindness he'd been offered in ages. There was a rawness in the way he closed his eyes, like he didn't just want it—he needed it in the quietest, most heartbreaking way.

"I'm not asking you to be perfect, Dean. I'm not even asking for anything right now. I just... I need you to stop running. Not toward me. Not away. Just... stand still for once. Let it breathe."

After a moment, he whispered, "So, what then?" he asked, voice rough. "What do we do?"

You gave him a small, tired smile. "We figure it out. Slowly. At our own pace. No pressure. No pretending it didn't happen. But no running from it either."

Dean let out a breath, something like relief softening his features. "Yeah," he said. "Okay. I can try that."

He gave your hand a small squeeze, and this time, he didn't let go.

When Sam came in later, he found you and Dean curled slightly toward each other, still clothed, still battered from the night's ordeal, but breathing slow and even. There was still a small, polite gap between your bodies, enough that you could pretend it wasn't intentional if you needed to. You were under the blanket, Dean sleeping over them.

Sam smiled faintly, shook his head, and quietly pulled the door shut again. Then, he slipped into his own bed.

For the first time in days, sleep came deep and peaceful for the three of you, wrapped not in fear or nightmares, but in the quiet comfort of knowing someone would be there when you opened your eyes.

NEXT PART

🏷️Tag list: @thej2report | @mostlymarvelgirl | @anniebannanie0315 | @kr804573 | @britneynicolel | @globetrotter28 | @mandee7 | @cassiecourtemanche

Let me know if you want to be added in the Tag list!

[newttxt]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you @strawhattery for @ing me, even though i do feel like it's a not-so-subtle urge to finish my current wips... (i need the kick)

for reference/those who only see my art, i used to be a fic writer who occasionally drew. that's obviously changed, but i am trying to write more, so you can find me at pseudoanalytics on ao3.

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

44, but only 35 are linked to me (9 are anonymous...)

2) what's your total ao3 word count?

347,773 😰

3) what are your top five fics by kudos?

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) [haikyuu, ushiten]

redacted :/

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or, the fine art of emotional recognition) [haikyuu, sakuatsu]

you're really pushing it (but you're going much too slowly) [haikyuu, ushiten]

redacted :/ (sequel to the first redacted...)

4) what fandoms do you write for?

most of my fics are so old i can't bear to look at them, but i'm trying to write more for one piece. then i've written a decent amount of haikyuu, pacific rim, and star wars.

5) do you respond to comments? why or why not?

initially? i absolutely do! but as any of my friends will tell you, i struggle to even reply to dms or texts. so alas. i drop off pretty quickly

i LOVE comments though, and i eagerly read and reread them frequently ;__;

6) what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh sheesh. you may only ask once (so be prepared for the reply) which is a bad end for pacific rim 2. or i guess... a worse end. it's also a bit of a role swap au, if i remember correctly.

7) what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i... honestly don't know. i typically write happy endings. i like to write "missing scenes" and post-canon, so things tend to be rather open-ended or to just lead into the next part of canon. my memory is also not my prize-winning quality, so i can't really remember how my fics ended pre-2018ish.

8) do you get hate on fics?

i know i've gotten some ruder bookmarks, but not typically, no. i get more hate on art or in my ask box, but i honestly just delete it all, so it never sticks.

9) do you write smut?

yes, though its debatable if it's "smut" so much as "sex in such an irreverent context that it becomes humor." i cannot take sex seriously, so alas, i rarely write it seriously. i use it more as comedy and a tool for character studies. i do enjoy a stoic character's facade getting cracked open.

10) do you write crossovers?

i don't write legitimate crossovers, with characters from different medias intermingling, and frankly, i rarely do au's either.

but if i have one weakness, it's that i am ALWAYS a sucker for a pacific rim au. yes, i am rotating a one piece version in my head.

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

i had a sakuatsu one reuploaded to wattpad under someone else's username. they deleted my author's notes and added their own, as if they'd written the fic, too. hilariously they even used my art for the cover.

it got taken down, but idk why. i never reached out about it.

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah! i've had 5 translated, and i've had 2 turned into podfics, which is cool.

13) have you ever cowritten a fic before?

nope. i'd be terrible to work with, tbh. my writing process is a holdover from my journalism days, and the steps are a mystery even to me. i think i'll stick to drawing art for other ppl and their fics.

14) what's your all time favorite ship?

i will hold to the fact that it's asanoya from ao3. they were the first ship i got really invested in, and i see their impact on everything i ship to this day. they were my "blueprint," if you will. i still get smiley when i see art for them!

on the flip side... terezi/vriska was also a formative ship for me. but i won't discuss that.

15) what's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

rip go ahead and start talking (i'll pick up the slack). it's my 1-of-2-chapters ushiten fic that i should just mark as complete, since the first chapter can stand alone.

16) what are your writing strengths?

hard to determine your own strengths, but i think my dialogue/characterization are pretty strong, especially since i still regularly flex those muscles when writing comics. i also think i'm funny.

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

writing.

but seriously, i am so bad at sitting down and just hammering out a fic. don't get me started on outlines or longform works. i'd rather grab my pencil and start drawing, i'm afraid.

18) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think there are ways to interweave words or terms in other languages, but overall, i'm a fan of just standardizing everything into one language. if your character understands it, i think all readers should be able to understand it. and i'm not a fan of when you're expected to scroll to the end for a translation; i think it interrupts the reading flow.

this is a generalized opinion though. i think there are ALWAYS storytelling exceptions, so if the other language usage is really important to your theme/intent, i can see why you would do this!

19) first fandom you wrote for?

please don't do this to me. it was maximum ride. yes, the james patterson books about the kids with bird wings. i wrote 4-5 fics, i was in middle school, and — as far as i know — they are still up on ff dot net. no, i won't elaborate.

20) favourite fic you've ever written?

hands down, it's the sakuatsu domesticity simulator. it's not necessarily my best work in terms of writing skill, but i also drew over 50 images for it and html coded it into an interactive story. i'm just proud that i started a big project by myself and i actually finished it!

it's my dream to someday make a whole visual fan novel. i feel like the domesticity sim was the first step.

oh boy i'm bad at tagging but if @syrupfog, @lawsbbygirl, @macabrekawaii , @bmouse, or @cooknumber3 want to go for it... :))

[faceofpoe]

Have you figured out a way to reconcile the “Brasso giving Kellen cover” thing yet? I like the idea of it as a character moment for Brasso, but I can’t seem to make logical sense of it. It’s bothering me!

The way I see it, Brasso has to be taking a (very risky) guess as to what Kellen has said to the Imperials. There are essentially three options there: (1) Kellen has actually ratted them out, (2) Kellen has actively tried to protect them by saying there aren’t any undocumented workers there, or at least any that he knows of, or (3) Kellen has said nothing one way or another.

If #1, Brasso’s outburst I guess helps Kellen by confirming his loyalty to the Empire. Why Brasso would want to help Kellen in that case is another question, but maybe he’s compassionate enough to imagine Kellen not feeling like he had a choice, in order to protect his own family. But also why would the outburst be *necessary* in that scenario?

If #2, Brasso’s outburst would actually out Kellen as having lied to the Imperials. Doesn’t that actually make things worse for Kellen, while also not helping Brasso and his people?

If #3, (which if I were Brasso I would guess was the most likely thing to have happened by that point) then Brasso’s outburst would, at best, indicate that Brasso sees Kellen as loyal to the Empire and likely to have given them up. But it’s still outing Kellen as having known about Brasso & co’s immigration status, and wouldn’t the Imperials then be angry and suspicious about the fact that Kellen hadn’t given them up right away?

Am I missing something here?

Ha okay. *sweats*

So I don't think there's any ambiguity in how we're meant to read the scene. I do think *ducks* it's kind of shit writing tbh.

From the audience perspective, Kellen having sold them out at this moment doesn't really make sense unless it's just sort of... supplementary.

The imperial team came to this (...council?) early because the lieutenant set his attention on Bix. I don't think this is debatable? They come rolling up, he gives instructions to set the team up, and then takes his man to go find her right away. That's why they've changed plans. 'Husband' is off world. It's middle of the work day, he's hoping to catch her alone and off guard.

The troopers only catch Brasso because he's looking for Wilmon who is where he is because he's expecting the later departure. It's just the shit combination of circumstances but I think ultimately can be pinned back on the lieutenant. So what/when is Kellen to have said to sell them out?

From a 'what is Brasso thinking?' standpoint -

I think your option 3 is probably what we're meant to understand but what you're missing is the *nudge wink* aspect of the fact that the councils *can't* get through the harvest without the extra help. So we get this chaotic sort of inventory/inspection where they'll fuck with people who act guilty but largely seem to let the ones who keep their heads down slide. All the emphasis on how running is the big thing that's getting people caught out.

With Brasso's outburst it's important to remember how it starts - one of the imperials going 'hey wait isn't he one of the mechs?' Not 'oh is THAT one of them?' as if they've just been discussing the legality of the labor here but the suspicion is just dawning on this particular dude, I think. They've found someone sneaking around so they're guilty of something and 'hey wait isn't this one one of yours?'

Kellen freezes. Because yeah he's in as much a corner as anyone at this point.

So what Brasso accomplishes is to *distance* them. He so quickly throws the accusation out there and the wording he uses - you use us up and turn us in (something like that) - he is not painting the picture of their relationship we saw, where Brasso & co are part of the big family, sitting down to meals with the whole group and clearly very comfortable and never mind the lengths we've been watching Kellen go to to bring them information and then an out.

What I think in the end his outburst accomplishes is to establish - okay maybe Kellen didn't say anything right now. But he sure is the sort of bastard who *would* he was just waiting to get through the harvest. Gotta have the grain, ya know.

That's the only way I can reconcile it because again - I don't think the progression of events or the moment itself is ambiguous at all. Subtle, but not ambiguous. It's just... kind of a weak script moment.

[tmblrplsdonutbanme]

It gets worse tbh (ancom anon btw) because she knows im a porn addict (I kinda said and I know its bad yes I cant justify it) but like

Im kinda underage? Like im a high schooler

But like

I feel like she's a right winger or right leaning. But then again I'm a left wing extremist so liberals look right wing to me.

I mean yeah I ask radfems who i interact with "why do you interact with me if you think all men are bad?"

One, who is the most strawman argument radfem ever, who I only talk to because she says the most out of pocket shit that not even an Andrew tate fan would say to me said "good point"

And the only other person (radfemcroatia) who answered the question just says she interacts with me out of boredom

Yeah we're chill i kinda just send her pictures of cats i have sometimes and we debate about politics.

No FREAKING way... you're underaged, so stop interacting with her right NOW! None of this is age appropriate stuff.. assuming you're like 15 or something... but why is she discussing porn with a younger boy??

Why is she discussing this at all with a boy? even this is weird to me. and why is she "chill"... to an underage porn addict??

This is not a healthy road to go down, when I shared a discord with her, she was discussing how an underaged porn addict deserved to be molested. Get tf out of this and stop watching porn!

Like seriously, stop.. u gotta get offline bruh for more than one reason i don't know how @radfemcroatia can blame women for simple interactions with men yet she hangs out with teenage porn addicted boys? she says women deserve their bad fate for "curating a male environment" but is "chill" with little boys in porn chats? wtf.... this is getting so creepy original post about @radfemcroatia

original ASK regarding @radfemcroatia talking to men

[olive-ig10]

MILEVENS ARE SO MUCH WORSE THAN THE USED TO BE?!?

Okay I usually dont shit on Milevens because I just personally don’t think it’s super ethical knowing it’s kinda like poking a very hungry bear that also has kids so ya…but recently however…I feel they have gotten worse? I don’t know maybe this is just me but also it’s pretty bad 😭 especially as someone who dose dig around on Milevens side going onto different forums and whatnot hell I’ve literally joined a community on Reddit which seems to be the place where most Mileven shippers live (surprise surprise) that and Twitter and my god they say we are the delusional ones…for example I was messaging someone on TikTok messages about why they shipped Mileven and it honestly sounds like a little girl talking about how she’s gonna be a princess when she grows up one of her main arguments was that she knew someone that worked on the set and saw the script….HELLO?!? so if this was true she would just casually admit to committing a crime basically (I don’t know how it works legally tbh but I know for a fact ITS NOT LEGAL) she then proceeded to tell me the classic “Well Mike’s not gay..” like brotha….your joking

I think with the rise of the new season upon us Milevens are getting more and more toxic as well as overall defensive often times I see Will being called a fàğġ0t and Mike being defended as straight over on Reddit Milevens also lack addressing certain byler scenes and when they do it literally makes no sense and can be easily debunked and I know it’s only a small percentage of Milevens actually saying slurs like this but honestly I think they are using it as a defensive tactic if that makes sense because let’s be honest a more of the fandom ships Byler over Mileven even some Multi-Shippers prefer it so to them it feels like they are being backed into a corner in a sense

I do eventually want to write another one of these so if you ever want to debate a Mileven you kinda know what to say “study the enemy” however the saying goes but really please do it helps you out so much trust me I did I do not regret it even if it dose mean having to…look at wedding fanart…of Mileven

This is just a little rant from me as someone who loves seeing Milevens arguments and what they have to say but uh please stay safe and away from homophobic fans because for some reason THERES HOMOPHOBIC FANS IN ST EVEN THO THERES LITERALLY A GAY CHARACTER?!? Baffles me…oki bye lemme know if i should do a longer one of these

[lordsukunas]

baby, it’s our love.

tldr: megumi has to put up with (idiot) you and idiot bf!yuuji while debating whether or not water is wet. oh and yuuji is madly in love w u <3

cw: none tbh, it’s just a buncha fluff. black coded!reader, btw.

a/n: happy yuuji!!! i luv bf!yuuji fluff bc hes just so cuter patooter and doesnt deserve the hell gege is putting him thru rn. trying out (kinda) fancy layout stuff, not quite sure if i got the hang of it yet lol :p anyway, i hope yall enjoy this lil drabble!

megumi might actually pop a blood vessel.

“for the last time, water isn’t wet.” he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “water makes other things wet, so it can’t make itself wet.”

“that’s stupid,” you say, chewing on a starburst, and there’s so much confidence in your voice that it makes megumi want to shake some sense into you. “water isn’t dry, so it gotta be wet.”

okay, well, you’re helpless.

“you do know that it can be neither, right?” he mutters before looking over at yuuji, who’s currently unwrapping a now and later. “please say you actually have common sense and agree with me.”

your boyfriend pops the piece of candy into his mouth and hums in thought. maybe, just maybe, yuuji has the extra braincell today...

but then, the other boy shakes his head, and megumi’s hopes are popped like a balloon. “nah. water definitely gotta be wet, ‘cause it isn’t dry.”

... there’s no way two people can be this dumb.

megumi drags a hand down his face. what happened to opposites attract?

you, on the other hand, press a kiss to yuuji’s cheek and smirk. “see! yuu gets it.” the tips of his ears burn hot, and even though it’s been a few weeks since the two of you have begun dating, he still can’t subdue the butterflies in his stomach.

“y-yeah...”

megumi kisses his teeth. “what? itadori’s grades are worse than yours.”

you scoff. “and? grades aren’t everything, fushiguro, you should know that. my boyfriend is super smart and amazing, so not too much on him.”

the dark-haired boy glances between the both of you, and, suddenly, he feels like sisyphus.

clearly, both of you are helpless.

“idiots,” megumi states, and gets out of his seat before pushing the chair in. you can practically feel the annoyance rolling off of him in waves as you watch him leaves.

“see ya later, fushiguro!” yuuji calls, his sentence punctuated by the door slamming shut.

it’s silent until he hears your poorly stifled snickering. yuuji’s eyes seem to have a mind of their own because they slide right over to meet yours, and before he can stop himself, he’s bursting into a fit of giggles right along with you.

and, woah, you’re gorgeous.

the whole water debate disappears into the back of his mind, and yuuji’s giggles trail off as he stares at you.

the corners of your eyes are crinkled, your full lips are curved upward into a grin that sends an arrow right into his heart, and your smile lines squish your cheeks. the fading sunlight catches on your curls, outlining you in an orange glow.

everyday yuuji thinks he’s lucky to have you, but moment like these? moments where you’re happy and content and alive? god, it just doubles down on that. he wants more of these moments, he wants them for life.

if he risks megumi’s irritation? he’ll do it.

if he has to face nobara’s wrath? he’ll do it.

if he has to fight sukuna a million times to see you smile, yuuji will do it.

you mean the world to him, and you don’t even know it.

[ladyloveandjustice]

List of "Does it Like Women" Results and whether I agree

I find the "Does it like women" blog fascinating, as y'all have probably noticed. I always tend to think deeply about this topic when I consume media, so I wanted to make a list of results I disagree with, because it interests me! I'll likely be updating this through reblogs if my interest doesn't wane, I'll make a note in the replies when I do!

Loves Women

I agree with all of these so far! Well, loves women might be a little bit of a stretch for the first Spiderverse movie (on the other hand...doc ock...hnnn), but I think the second does so yeah basically agree.

Likes Women

Kill la Kill- Man it's 2013 again and I'm seeing tumblr make powerpoints about how klk is deeply feminist and it's actually a super deep critique of harassment that Ryuko has to wear the ugliest outfit ever and Westerners Don't Understand (person making this argument is inevitably a Westerner).

Yeah, based on the part I've seen and everything I've heard, hard disagree. But I have not seen the whole thing, just those three, I do know the part I saw included rape jokes a plenty, a weird victim-blamey take on "not being ashamed" of being forced into a skimpy outfit and how if you're bothered by men ogling you that's your weakness, and a vagina wedgie. I'm not as mad about it as I was back then,and I can appreciate the show has it's good points later on. Not having watched it also means my knowledge is incomplete. However, I have listened to really in depth breakdowns of the series (mainly Anifem's podcast), so I know exactly what happens, and yeah, the treatment of women doesn't impress me. I'm on the dislike side, (holding back on hates because again, haven't seen all of it)

...could understand mixed feelings though, I guess

Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 anime- nahhhh man, it doesn't like women, treating them significantly worse than the manga it adapted. I have a lot of issues, from how thoroughly it shafted Winry, to how it gave Riza nothing, to Dante being every cliche about a female villain they could fit in here, the treatment of Rose leaving a horrible taste in my mouth (I see arguments of what happened to her being a critique of imperialism, however I have yet to see anyone justify why the show had to continue to have her kidnapped and assaulted and treated as an afterthought after that) and some truly rancid one-off episodes.

I break down my problems with it at the end of the little FMA 2003 liveblog I did, though it's phrased super obnoxiously because I wrote it...oh my god twelve years ago oh god I'm crumbling to dust as we speak. But I break down the basics with the "top gross things" post I did (ignore any thoughts on race I had no place writing bout that tbh). The tag anime: turn your zombie mom into ethanol also goes into more of my thoughts, though again, very obnoxious and the deeper you dig the more ancient and obnoxious it will get lmao.

I have several ancient posts on how it treated Winry in particular, as she was my fave and was done so dirty, and I think they hold up fairly well. Here's a post I made about the Winry-Roy plotline, and a good response by another user. Then we have this post, ignore horrible art.

(Please don't try to spark a debate with any of this stuff, it's years and years old, I went through so much drama and legit panic attacks, and I'm not committed anymore. Love 2003 and think it likes women if you want, that's fine! I'm just trying to illustrate what I mean in saying imo it dislikes women).

The Handmaiden- This poll reminded me to finally get around to watching this movie, and I'm so glad I did! I'd go with "loves women" for this one actually,The nos must either be misclicks or people who don't understand that two women having sex on screen is not the same as the male gaze.

Madoka- I'd definitely go more towards mixed feelings honestly (especially if we're counting Rebellion) but I get the people who say "likes".

Yuri is my Job- it loves women, it loves messy women, it loves women who love women, it loves them so much, idk why it got a sizeable no vote. People who only watched the first ep? People who think yuri is "bad"?

Mob Psycho 100- Someone in the notes says "accidentally likes women" and that's the only answer in the "likes women" area I'll accept. It has 10 million prominent male characters and like three prominent female characters. ONE really really obviously has a hard time imagining women as powerful or action heroes. (this is reflected in One Punch Man too) (One Punch Man actively hates women and queer people though, Mob is infinitely better) Only one who ever gets to fight and play with the boys, and she's a low level mook, and we have to spend 75% percent of her limited screentime on whether it's actually okay to fight women, with her winning argument being "Well you're literally a child so I guess it evens out" (???) The little girl with the evil dolls gets even less screentime.

I do like that the series examines how Mob idealized Takane and how people not caring about the real her made her tired, as well as how it allowed her to reject Mob and was basically a lesson in the importance of accepting rejection. But her screentime is also really limited, and I feel like we could have dove into her a lot more. Tome is a wonderful weird girl and I liked her little arc, and I hear she gets more in the Reigen manga, but still not a TON of screentime, and even with her there are a couple jabs about how she doesn't "count" as a girl due to not acting traditionally feminine we're clearly supposed to find funny. Emi is...there I guess. There's that sweet scene with the writer girl, and the bully girl, but they're like, not reoccurring at all, as evidenced by how I can't remember their names.

And uh. the girls school episode.

Anyway. Hot take but I don't think "they're barely in the story but when they are two of them are treated pretty decently and have some depth, though there is some weird stuff about whether women can even fight men or whatever" really counts as "likes women". I'd go more mixed feelings.

Life is Strange-out of the two options I chose dislikes, but my feelings are a lot closer to "mixed feelings". I go into why here.

Gushing Over Magical Girls- lol. lmao even. The anime about middle school girls who look 8 sexually assaulting other middle school girls DEFINITELY doesn't like women. I go into more detail here.

Cowboy Bebop: Mixed feelings, probably. I chose dislikes because yes, Faye and Ed are great (you could def read Ed as nb though), but Faye also is repeatedly damsel in distress'd and treated as incompetent in her field when I don't think she should be, she can be a failgirl without being the sole woman in the action side of the group and also the least capable (there's also That Scene in the movie). also i just. it's fine that she's sexy but I hate her outfit. give her something nicer looking, it's so ugly. But my main reason for a dislike vote is the treatment of Julia. Girl is a textbook example of fridging. They really gave her so little. But yeah I could see mixed feelings.

Also do you remember that one scene during Faye's tragic backstory where she's hospitalized and the camera requires us to look down her super (painful looking? like idk how she's not screaming about it) squished boobs during this tense and important moment god that took me out. whenever anyone acts like Faye always owns her sexiness and the camera never does anything I remember that scene.

Ranma 1/2: I've seen read a good chunk of it, and this result is...surprising. Maybe by the standards of 80's manga though, who knows.

Better Call Saul- I did vote yes on this one, but I'd put it more at mixed feelings. Kim is a fantastic character, but there aren't enough women on the show at all. She's a major part of the show, but basically the only one of any note. I only voted yes because I finally remembered Francesca was a reoccurring character and she's all right, but the fact I had to think to remember...

Undead Unluck: I know it gets a lot better later but I'm not sure if a work that has it's female character continuously and comically sexually harassed for the first few chapters can ever get liking women privileges. I don't know enough about it but it might be a mixed feelings situation.

Akiba Maid War: tbh I'd probably give this 'loves women'.

Ducktales: For the second season specifically I'd say "loves women". The first season leans more towards 'like women' though, so it evens out.

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend- Should be "loves women" but people are ridic and voted based on the title.

Mixed Feelings

Dracula- IIII definitely think it dislikes women, sorry guys. Mina is a great character and you do have to take it in the context of when it was written. But there are surely contemporaries of Bram Stoker that wouldn't have randomly gone out of their way to scoff at the "New Woman". Not to mention again, really random sidebars about how men are so much smarter and cooler and women should be grateful to them. I could go on about Lucy and how Mina is treated and whether that's a critique of sexism or just playing into it and how it's so open to interpretation but I'll stop here.

also the book is hugely anti- Romani, immigrant etc and I think that ties into disliking women since some women are those Romani and immigrants

It really really felt like a case where a lot of people in the Drac Daily tag just wanted it to be super feminist because they liked it (you can like things without having to make them feminist! it's fine!), and the way they scoffed at feminist scholars who had "surface level readings" of the text (aka they dared to say it was sexist) still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

The Lego Movie: dislikes women. what are y'all on. Even it's own sequel calls it out for disliking women. Wildstyle is basically the only woman with real characterization and she's the purest concentration of "hypercompetent woman must play second fiddle to Average Male loser who is the one who actually saves the world and also she falls in love with him because of course she does'. Then Wonder Woman got one line (in literally the first theatrical move she got to even be in) and Superman and Batman a lot of screen time.

Does not like

Scott Pilgrim- Don't get this result, I'd put it at likes or mixed feelings? It's literally about how Scott has weird issues with women where he doesn't see them as to full people they are, and it calls him out on that hard. The whole sixth volume is how he made up a damsel in distress scenario for Kim and always took her for granted, how he put all the blame on Envy for the end of their relationship when he played a huge role in that, Knives finally getting over him, moving on, and telling him he needs to grow up a little (highlighting how his grossness towards her was him refusing to accept that he was an adult now, and that he was horrible to her, and yes he does apologize), and accepting that he and Ramona are both messed up people and she's just as flawed as he is, taking down the pedestal he put her on. And having Ramona triumphantly confront her abuser. Scott acknowledges he has a lot in common with Gideon, the supervillain!

Roxy is a sticking point, the whole 'it was a phase thing' and her and Ramona's relationshipbeing unexplored was annoying (fixed in Takes Off) but even she had some moments of pathos and was definitely the (Ramona's) ex the story seemed to sympathize with the most.

I dunno. this seems like a tumblr lacks media literacy thing again. Did you think the narrative agrees with Scott. Did you only watch the movie.

Succession- I'd go more mixed feelings? Dislikes is fine, I think it doesn't have enough women and often privileges male characters over them, but sometimes it's examination of the sexism Shiv faces is really incisive, and she's a complex character. But she should have gotten that abortion.

Watchmen: hates women actually. Pretty much anything written by Alan Moore does.

Persona 4: I think it hates women actually. But dislike is fine too.

Merlin: Everything I've heard about the show puts in in the hates camp rather than dislikes, but i never watched it (I did watch this video on it, and the bootlicking is out of this world if it's accurate) so I can't really comment

Fables: I cannot fathom how this did not get "hates women". Not just the fact it's written by a known misogynist. I will always remind everyone that I was literally there to see Bill Willingham say the female fans protesting the misogynist treatment of Stephanie Brown were annoying and he wishes he could shoot them. I was there. I heard him. This attitude completely shows up in his work. On top of that, his conservative, women hating idealogy all over this comic. Do you not remember all the random abortion soapboxes and how hard Snow White got sidelined????

And when I refreshed my memory, I discovered the reason Snow White had kids when she didn't want to was because a spell made her have sex with the male lead and she didn't even remember that happening. I also forgot that her backstory was the seven dwarfs raped her (but then she murdered them! Girl Power!) This is only the tip of the iceberg, I rediscovered way too many screwed up things he did to his female characters. Plus blatant Zionist propaganda and a ton of racism.

Like Snow White's backstory was some dark and edgy rape revenge and she's an Empowered Woman now, only to have her be raped by the man she will marry (in a mutual rape) but we don't call it that, and now she has kids she doesn't want, she can't get an abortion because It's Evil, time to quit her job she's proud of and move to a farm to have six kids.

iCarly-- It hates women! Dan Schneider. That should be all we need but some people in the comments insisted on separating the art from the artist despite the fact the artist is ALL OVER the art, and said art directly tormented Jeanette McCurdy! There was so much content in the show that was there to specifically torment her-- the fact her character has a food addiction/eating disorder while she had a real life eating disorder and they had to have known this, the fact after hearing she had a crush on an actor then they wrote it into her character to humiliate her, the fact they continually sexualized her while knowing her discomfort with it and with her body-- I have also watched the exhaustive basically minute-by-minute breakdown by QuintonReviews. Some gross shit happens on that show.

Hates Women

Agree with all of these so far!

[duckys-extra]

With Oscar’s re-signing for McLaren and salary increase I got something to say (as per usual) 🤣

I wanna throw something out there…unless they are the reigning world champion or rookies. Then all teams should have to pay both their drivers the same salary (maybe w the exception of Lance for obvious reasons).

Like I’m seeing people suggest that they’re paying Oscar the same amount bc they’re “not putting all their eggs in one basket” with Lando. Dumbest take I’ve ever seen, McLaren have stressed since the beginning that they believe in giving their drivers equal treatment.

It made sense for Oscar to be on a lower salary for his rookie contract. Would’ve liked to see it much higher last season tbh but he did get some mega bonuses with the wins etc in the end. But both drivers won them the constructors championship, even if Lando had more points we saw with Max and Checo that in that close a battle with other teams, both drivers had to be performing otherwise they wouldn’t win.

Anyway, you’re dumb if you think it’s an insult to Lando that Oscar is being paid the same. But you’re also dumb if you think this is McLaren deciding that Oscar is of higher value and skill than Lando bc he got re-signed; as if they didn’t literally do this with Lando same time last year and he didn’t give them every reason to know it was the right choice by the end of the season��

McLaren keeping Lando and Oscar on undisclosed multi year contracts means one thing and one thing only. They are happy and confident with their lineup right now and they don’t want to risk fucking it up like say…Ferrari, Red Bull, Mercedes…all their major competitors who have changed line ups in ways that could be debatably for the worse those teams. Don’t get me wrong, it could pay off. But they know they’ve got two very good drivers who are top contenders, why would they risk losing Oscar when they have Lando locked in and Oscar was the one other teams had interest in because Lando was off the market and Oscar’s contract was going to end at the end of 2026?