#i don’t actually have a problem with either of them

[bejeweledinterludes]

givin’ it all.

OR touch starved ! dean, part 2. you ask, i answer <3

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read part 1 here!

「 pairing 」 : touch starved ! dean x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 5.9k

「 content / warnings 」 : late seasons sad n soft!dean, vulnerability to da max (again), emotions, emotions, EMOTIONS, past trauma, confessions?

you have one ( 1 ) new message from the author ! ↓

surprise! here is a lovely part 2 for the people that asked and in honor of my bday month starting! BUTTTT most importantly, this is a thank you for 600+ followers !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope all of you know that i appreciate every single one of you that enjoys and interacts with my writing! it means the world, truly. once again, thank you all so much for the continued and ongoing support + love! i hope you all enjoy this one! and special thanks to @emeraldcrs + @maddie0101 (even though i ended up not doing what i said i was going to LMFAO <3)

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dean’s touch problem was getting out of hand.

ever since that night in your bedroom, he’s wished he could be there again, laying next to you every night— he’d even actually got the courage to get out of his bed one night when he couldn’t sleep to go to your room, but he never knocked on your door.

he did, however, sit down next to it in the hallway until he got tired enough that he had to fight to keep his eyes open, then went back to his own room. 

you hadn’t even treated him any differently, either. you had still smiled at him when he walked into the kitchen that morning when you were already sitting with sam, like you always did— and you hadn’t said a word about the night before, when you held him like he’d always wanted to be held.

and god, did he want more. 

dean wanted everything, actually. anything you had to offer. he’d take a squeeze on his shoulder, a ruffle of his hair— but hell, you did that pretty regularly already. and who was he to just ask for more?

dean winchester did not ask for things. he wasn’t allowed. he’s done just fine up until now without the touch of another human being, so why couldn’t the ache in his chest go away after your fingers left his skin? after that night?

it felt pathetic, wanting to need it. and to make matters worse, dean wanted all of you. it was selfish. you didn’t deserve someone like him, he knew it. but then again, you never flirted with anyone at the bars, ever. even when you all first started hunting together. and when he’d asked you about it (not so casually), you shrugged and told him the truth, because you always did— that as crazy and stupid as it sounded, you’d wanted something, someone real.

and dean?

he wanted to be the one to give that to you.

that’s when he knew he was in trouble. 

because of too many things, really— what if you died, again? what if he died, again? and what happens when you ultimately rejected him, because if dean winchester was anything, it was unloveable.

but charlie said she loved him. sam told him once in a while, too— and you’d said it the first time you ‘died’, then came back. he never brought that up. neither did you. but he just wanted to hear you say it again. 

so he could say it back this time. 

dean hated the way he felt when the people he loved actually showed him that they maybe cared about him, too— like the way a person feels when an entire room is singing ‘happy birthday’ to them and they don’t know what to do with themselves.

and yet, time and time again, dean found himself desperate for it. and he didn’t even know what ‘it’ was half the time. 

but being around you when he felt like that helped. a lot.

dean didn’t know what it was, or when it even started, but he always gravitated towards you. always had to be around you, be near you. and you never once pointed it out. you just let him into your space, your bubble, even your hobbies— and sometimes, doing literally nothing at all. 

it was one of the reasons dean loved you. yeah, yeah, he said it, whatever. leave him alone. it seemed like any time you were near, he was more relaxed. not fully, of course— but his shoulders felt less tight and his jaw wasn’t sore from clenching it so hard.

he breathed easier. without realizing it, you helped dean take his mind off things (but of course you damn well knew that. why else would you have invited him to go to the post office with you?). 

and he craved it. 

if dean got captured by a jinn right now, you’d be there. you’re all he’s wanted. you, maybe a house— screw anything else, honestly. if you were there, so was he. but he’d definitely prefer you sitting on the hood of baby— yeah, his two girls. that was a little strange analogy though, because he’s thought about fucking you right on top of baby. or inside, on the seats. maybe even under—?

this djinn-fantasy thing was starting to sound a lot like just a sex dream. 

wouldn’t be the first time dean had one about you, though. 

besides. you were all he dreamed about, anyway. 

but this night, he was wishing he had a dream like that. no. tonight, he was having yet another goddamn nightmare. 

the barely-lit light on dean’s desk (he says he ‘accidentally’ leaves it on once in a while, but he really uses it as a makeshift night light. don’t tell anyone i told you that) cast soft dim glow on the concrete walls of his bedroom. the room was quiet, except for the occasional hum of machinery coming from somewhere in the bunker.

yet dean's mind? anything but peaceful. images, smells, sounds, and memories were piercing his mind— hell, purgatory, failed hunts, you name it. and the faces of people he’d lost, people he’d tortured were clear as day— the pain, the hurt, it was all there, as usual; but ten times worse tonight, it seemed. screams, snarls, gunshots, and his father’s voice echoed off of the traumas he was reliving. 

he doesn’t know when his eyes had snapped open. but now dean was sitting up pin-straight in his bed, his breathing more like choppy gasps as he held and pointed his gun at— nothing. and his throat hurt, why did his throat hurt—?

oh. 

it wasn’t just screams of other people.

it was his own this time. dean had screamed out loud. 

a few rooms away, you were also jolted awake by dean's scream. it was so loud that it had even carried through the thick concrete walls of the bunker that were separating you both. you shot up from your bed, years of instincts kicking in and legs moving before your sleepy mind could catch up— or think twice. 

because the only thing that was going through your freshly-awoken mind?

the absolute worst.

you made it to dean’s door in record time, swinging it wide open with your own gun at the ready to fight something— but the sight you were met with was not the one you had been expecting.

at all.

dean was still sitting up straight, but now barely-relaxed, rapidly blinking his eyes with his trembling hand still holding his gun, adjusting to the still-dim but brighter light flooding his room, to feeling damp in his clothes instead of all bloody and broken, to the echoes of screams being replaced with the white noise of the bunker– 

and to… you. 

yeah, you. standing in his doorway, hand on the edge of his door (you’d caught it as it bounced back from you essentially tearing it open), your own gun now at your side instead of drawn. your hair was all messy, clothes a little bunched up in places, breathing a little unevenly, yet not as much as him— but you still looked breathtaking, nightmare aside. 

dean didn’t know what the hell kind of water you were drinking to make you look like that. even being freshy pulled from sleep like him, you looked beautiful. pretty, gorgeous, stunning? dean couldn’t find a word, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

and him.

oh, him.

dean always looked good— to the point where it bordered on you wanting to rip your hair out, most days. and despite what de’d just gone through, he still looked good. kidding aside, you craved the times you were able to see him like this more than you cared to admit to yourself. 

not because he was in pain, or suffering the traumas of his less-than-peaceful life— but because it reminded you that even dean, for as everything that he was: a hero, larger than life, better than any hunter, still had moments like… this. when the memories became real life again. when the thoughts and his past actions echoed in his mind like taunts.

when you saw him like this: sweat all over, hair sticking up, eyes like they didn’t know what was real, you saw a piece of dean that few— or none at all had seen. most times, it felt like you were intruding on something private, sacred. and every realistically-thinking cell in your body screamed that you shouldn’t be here, seeing this. seeing dean. 

but that little voice in your head just wouldn’t listen. 

it never did. not when it told you that maybe dean didn’t touch you like he did everyone else— because hell. 

he never touched anyone else. only you. 

he’d do it all the time, so frequently and without a word that you weren’t sure he was aware he was actually doing it. dean sat so close to you what seemed like 24/7, like a magnet. in a booth, at a bar, wherever. you’d gotten so used to it, it had been unusual not to have the solid warmth of dean next to you when you’d gone off on your own to interview witnesses on a case. 

and you would catch him playing with your hair on more than one occasion. and while dean got all embarrassed, you just smiled a little, then went back to reading the old-ass book you’d been poured over (but not without first nonchalantly adjusting yourself so he got more access to your hair). 

dean would never forget it. 

because that’s who you were, essentially. taking all the pieces of him in tow with you. all the dirty, messed up, strewn-about shards of him, scattered like a discarded shattered vase on the floor— and just accepting it. 

and you never tried to ‘fix’ him, but in some way, you still somehow were. without really ever talking about it, or maybe even knowing. but when those times that only occurred on a rare occasion that dean would talk, the words spilling out and overflowing— but you never judged him. only listened. spoke when it was needed from you. 

it meant everything.

and more. 

dean would hug you almost every five minutes when he was too drunk to stand straight, you had learned one night early on in your friendship. when his ‘hey, maybe we shouldn’t do that’ voice in his head was silenced, he was kinda (a lot) all over you. because yes, he was much touchier when he was drunk, especially around you. 

even now, after years since it happened, you still remembered the way his broad, loose frame had crumpled against you— and you caught him.

just like now.

you’d snapped over whatever the hell just came over you— and you weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there, but you hoped it wasn’t as long as you thought it to be, then slowly shut dean’s door behind you with a click, enveloping you both in the dim light this time. 

because no way in any world were you about to leave dean alone after seeing him like this.

you pad across his room like you’d done a million times before— but never in this way. this late in the night? sure, but not like now. 

you weren’t really thinking. because let’s be honest here: for every critical and rational thought you had, dean seemed to just… make them all disappear from your mind.

not in the survival sense, but in the ‘really, what’s stopping me from just kissing him’ viewpoint. so much so that you had to literally force yourself to not do anything. to not cross that line. you weren’t sure if he even knew that he was aware he was doing it to you, yet it still happened. a lot.

but back to now. back to dean’s room, to the light being returned to normal, and dean’s wondering why the hell is it so cold? he was still just a complete mess, his frayed and raw nerves only being held together by skin, blood and bones. he shut his eyes and kept them like that, trying to banish the memories from his mind, to just snap the hell out of it. he could hear this ringing in his ears, and it was so loud, he just wanted it to stop—

and suddenly, it did.

dean didn’t even realize you’d started holding him until the scent of you finally flooded his senses. until he felt how warm you were. until he felt your hair on the side of his face. until he felt and heard your breathing. 

during the aftermath, you’d somehow managed to gently pry dean’s gun out of his hand, setting yours and his on his desk before you’d gotten on his bed and sat with him, hugged him.

when his eyes finally opened, just for a split-second— the only sight he was met with wasn’t the pit, or purgatory, just the guns. the metal had glinted off of his desk light, his vision only slightly impaired by your hair.

your hair. why did it smell so good. and why was it so soft. the world may never know, dean thinks. well, he does know. you’d told him one night while putting something in your hair, and he had been walking past the doorway. he’d teased you about your ‘girly stuff’, but you didn’t even bat an eye. 

that was another thing he’d noticed about you. you didn’t change yourself based on other’s opinions. you were secure in who you were, and didn’t need approval from anyone else to feel your best. it was one of the things dean wished he could do for real and not just as a front, as a defense. 

you were confident, but you still asked him once in a while if you looked okay, more so in the most recent years.

and dean could never lie to you. he always said “‘course y’do”.

but that night, you’d shrugged, then just told him about whatever the hell you were putting on your head, explaining it in a way he’d understand if he’d been listening— but dean had been a little to focused on your lips moving and not enough on the words actually coming out of them. 

dean found himself burying his face into your hair now, half into your neck and chest, his breath coming out uneven and in short pants against your skin. he allowed his eyes to flutter shut again as he just let himself sink into you, resting his head on your shoulder, arms finding your waist. he felt the adrenaline wearing off, but his heart was still pounding in his chest, and he felt his shoulders trembling. his mind was starting to adjust, but he felt like he’d just gotten off a treadmill after running on it too fast. 

and dean felt so weak. even more so now than he ever had. a shell of himself, a whole grown-ass man crumpled into you like he was a little kid again, scared of the dark.

if his dad could see him now.

if sam saw him right now. oh, sam would finally see that his brother wasn’t the tower of light, safety he’d always viewed him as. he’d treat him differently, for sure. dean was no longer the protector, the one who watched over everyone and everything. too much had happened to sam, to the people he loved for that to be even a fraction of true anymore. 

what was true, though? 

dean was a failure.

in every sense of the word. he’d failed innocent people, family, friends— everyone more times than he could count.

but his mind remembered. 

and it reminded him every night. 

dean used to have the sense that he was at least doing something right, but as of late, everything he’d done so far was nothing short of one disappointment after the other. it was pitiful, really— he was a freakin’ hunter, for god’s sakes. you’d think he’d get a goddamn win once in a while. but not for a long time, it seemed. 

and this was just yet another failure, another thing he absolutely sucked at. dean couldn’t even get back to normal after a nightmare without someone being there to hold him. it was pathetic, humiliating— but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. 

somehow, that was his breaking point. the last straw. 

dean finally just… broke. 

you didn’t even realize what was happening until you heard the smallest strangled, trapped noise came out from the man you were essentially holding together, muffled against you— but you still heard it.

all it took for dean winchester to cry these days? 

a hug, apparently.

the tears had been welling up in dean’s eyes faster than he could will them away— and he just couldn’t do it anymore. couldn’t put up the front he’d always been able to. he tried, god he tried so hard, but he was still shaking, for christ’s sakes— and he’d just woken up. 

the more dean thought about it, the more your arms seemed like a good place to finally let it all out. you’d always treated him with kindness he didn’t deserve, so he just prayed that you wouldn’t push him away. that you would just let him have this. he doesn't think he could handle you rejecting him in this way right now.

and when you hear a slight sniff against you, you almost couldn’t believe it. dean didn’t cry. he got angry, upset, went non-verbal– but the one thing you hadn’t seen him do (at least in front of you) in all the years you’d known him, is cry.

but you weren’t leaving.

no, you just held him tighter, adjusting your grip and the way you were sitting so dean was more comfortable. you didn’t lay down, but you pulled him closer to you, running a hand up and down his back. 

it’s not like you could say anything. what the hell could you say?

well.

one thing did come to mind. 

so with your hand still gently rubbing dean’s back, you moved your head just a fraction so it could rest on his, whispering close to his ear.

“i got you.”

and that was it. 

dean’s eyes screwed further shut, lip wobbling as he gripped way harder onto you, like you were the only lifeboat left in a choppy sea. like you were going to keep him here, like he’d suddenly fall apart, die if he let go. 

and he let go—

figuratively.

you’d never heard a sob come out of dean before, but that night, you decided you never wanted to hear it after this. because it was physically hurting you to hear dean right now. 

but you didn’t dare let him go. you held dean in your arms, still running a hand on his back, and he cried into your chest like he was four years old again, his entire body trembling against yours with the force of how much his sobs were wracking through his form. 

this wasn’t just about dean’s nightmare. this was everything. the decades of holding things in, pushing them down, then moving on without ever unpacking it— it was all bursting through the floodgates, roaring in his ears, his senses.

broken sounds left his throat, almost choking on them. they were coming straight from the place dean dared not to ever touch in his heart. but he didn’t care how loud he was anymore, or how embarrassing this must be, how humiliating—

because you said that you had him.

and you wanted nothing more than to take every ounce, every inch of pain, heartbreak, suffering, and loss that made up the man you loved away from him so he didn’t have to deal with it.

dean didn’t deserve any of it. he deserved to be normal.

to have a life. 

and damn you wanted to give that to him, so badly.

but for now, you’d just hold him. give him a place to rest. to let everything go.

to be the solace he needed, he deserved.

neither you or dean knew how long he’d stayed like that, but you both didn’t say a word the entire time you held him— the only sounds that filled his room were his less-than-quiet sobs (god he hoped sam hadn’t made it home from elieen’s yet) and the faint rustle of his sheets. 

but at some point, with a final sniff, dean lifted his head from your shoulder, but didn’t meet your eyes. couldn’t.

he was so ashamed of himself, his actions. it didn’t matter that you guys had been friends however long, this was not supposed to be the side of him you saw. he’d seen you comfort dozens, maybe even hundreds of crying people on cases— because of lost loved ones, or because they had seen something too scary. 

dean just never thought he’d be one of them.

you didn’t say anything at first. dean, eyes and face still wet with tears, was looking down between you both, eyes fixed on your pyjama pants’ pattern. he was avoiding the obvious, the pill he had to swallow. he’d just cried like a baby into you.

he could see the wetness on your shirt from the corner of his eye, but he dared not look up all the way. god, this was humiliating. you’d probably move out of the bunker after this.

because no way does dean come back from a stunt like he just pulled. staying in your bed is one thing, but the fact that he just broke down in front of you? you’d never see him the same, never look at him the same– and even if there was any chance of it  before, no way in hell were you ever going to look at him in the way he wanted you to look at him.

he’d messed up big-time— again. the only thing he swore to never ruin, to never take away from himself, it all just unraveled because he was a goddamn crybaby. an idiot. why did he do that? just let himself? was he seriously that braindead that he couldn’t—

dean’s pulled out of the spiral of thoughts he’d conjured up for himself when he feels a hand under his jaw. 

your hand. 

dean’s breath was all out of whack, courtesy of crying— but his next inhale literally gets stuck somewhere when your free hand uses your fingers to wipe the tears off his face.

you hadn’t really registered the fact that you’d even started doing that until you see dean’s glassy and red-rimmed eyes meet yours in his barley-lit room. all you’d been thinking was that you wanted to see him. and when you saw all the wetness on his face, how ashamed he looked, you didn’t think. 

case in point: you never did.

not when it came to dean.

and dean just melts all over again. you could’ve teased him, poked fun, even just got up and left— but instead, your arms are still halfway around him. you’re leaning over by his nightstand, grabbing a tissue for the snot and larger tear tracks. 

he should feel embarrassed. at least a little gross. 

but he didn’t. 

he just felt you.

dean let his eyes flutter shut, because this had to be a dream now. he wasn’t expecting this from you, but damn if he didn’t need it. every gentle brush of your fingers on his face felt like pure gold. like you were putting him back together. 

dean’s still trembling under your gaze, under your touch. but seeing him react the way he did stirs at that feeling inside your tummy that always seemed to spike when dean was around. you toss that urge away, along with the tissue you’d used on his face.

but you don’t take your hand away. 

your hand was so warm, so soft was all dean could think, feel. you weren’t taking your hand away, so dean just melted like a pad of butter in a pan into your fingers that were cupping the side of his face, his eyes still shut. he could feel the slight burn of them from crying, along with the pressure in his face so high— but your thumb absentmindedly brushing on his cheek was starting to make him feel like he was floating instead.

and because he’s greedy, because he’s weak, dean’s own hand releases its hold from your shirt and finds your wrist, keeping your hand on his face. the one that used to be under his jaw had dropped when you knew that he wasn’t going to look down again.

no one’s shown dean care like this. your presence was like a blanket, like the warm, soft light of a candle. he couldn’t get enough. he never wanted it to end. 

dean doesn’t know how long he stays like that— could’ve been seconds or hours. but he finally breaks the silence with a quiet, raspy “thank you”. he doesn’t open his eyes yet.

because he’s afraid that you’ll be gone when he opens them. 

but you weren’t.

no, in fact? you did something much stupider.

you leaned forward and kissed dean on the cheek that your hand wasn’t currently holding.

dean’s eyes snap open in surprise at the contact if your soft lips on his skin, his trembling breaths getting stuck in his throat again— because holy hell. whatever he’d been guessing you’d do, it wasn’t even close to that.

like everyone knows now: you weren’t thinking.you just wanted him to feel better. you just didn’t know how to do that for him.

dean’s red-rimmed eyes were still wide as you leaned back, your hand on his face faltering when you see his expression, because that didn’t seem like he enjoyed it— but he didn’t drop his hand from your wrist. he wasn’t going to let you let go. you’d only kissed him on the cheek one other time, and that was when he was dying for the third, maybe fourth time? it was too long ago for him to remember, but honestly, he had been happy just dying like that, too. you’d kissed him, and that was what he needed. he didn’t want anything else from this world.

and you just did it again.

the only thing he said?

“do that again.”

now it was your turn for your breathing to stop working.

but you didn’t hesitate. 

you leaned forwards once more and pressed your lips on dean’s cheek again, lingering for a second too long before you reluctantly pulled away. because you wanted more. you wanted everything, honestly. but you’d never ask that of him. 

you don’t know how you’ve lasted this long, pretending not to want one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. you can recall a time when you didn’t feel like this— back when dean winchester was just some hunter with his brother. you helped them out once in a while, since they were your age and seemed nice enough, but somewhere along the way, after an apocalypse or two, sam and dean were always kind of just… there. it was like you were on parallel paths, going in the same direction— and both had intersected at some point. 

now here you were. 

it was times like these you wished that dean would just pick a side. he never truly hit on you, only for a case once in a while— and he couldn’t even look at you after he did that. he never made a move, and honestly, you were fine with that, for a really long time. you’d deemed dean much too out of your league anyway, since he didn’t really flirt with you like he did every other woman that came across his path— and that was odd to you, because dean flirted with everyone.

just not… you. 

and while it stung, you just pushed through it. i mean, it’s not like you haven’t been let down before— but you couldn’t place why your heart felt like it was being shredded up in your chest when you’d met lisa for the first time.

but you knew. 

deep down, you knew exactly why. 

you knew why your gut twisted whenever he chatted up a waitress, or a witness. you knew why your friends gave up on talking to you about him, because you were a lost cause. 

because you were so stupidly in love with dean, it was almost humiliating. 

every single person, even some monsters you were literally hunting had called you out on it.

and you didn’t know what the hell to do. 

there were too many variables, too many outliers, and certainly not enough confidence to even consider the fact of telling him. of manning up and just taking what you wanted. because what would you even say? do? what happens after he rejects you? and what if—

your thoughts are interrupted by a warm hand on your face.

dean’s hand.

your hand was still on his cheek, one of his own still holding your wrist— but the other was now brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

and then it just… stayed there. on the side of your face. 

just like you were doing to him. 

you’re gonna die, you think. 

once again, you found yourself wanting dean to just do something. he’d been blurring the invisible line you’d drawn for yourself, the one you swore to never cross—

unless dean wanted you to. 

it was getting much harder to tell if he wanted you to or not, especially in the most recent months.

and it was killing you. slowly but surely.

“what’re you thinkin’ about?”

the words leave your mouth before you even have time to think, because dean’s hand is so warm, so big against your face and it’s really hard to focus when his own thumb is brushing on your cheek— 

“you.” 

the answer leaves dean’s mouth without hesitation, without another thought. it wasn’t a lie— because you were all he thought about.

dean didn’t deserve this. you. any of this. and yet, he couldn’t refuse it right now. not when you were so close to him, and your skin was so soft—

“are you—” the words get caught in dean’s throat. “are y’thinkin’ about me?”

oh, why did dean just say that. why on chuck’s green earth did he ever say that. how did he even sound more pathetic than he’d just been when he was crying in your arms? and his voice was so small, so unlike him— plus it was still raspy from his stunt he’d pulled earlier. he was an idiot. a fool. he sounded like an insecure freakin’ teenager. it was pathetic. he was pathetic—

“yeah.” 

dean’s eyes flicked back up to yours— and that was a mistake, because your hand was still mirroring his own on his face, and you were looking at him like you meant what you’d just said. like he meant something. 

“yeah?” the breath left dean’s mouth before he could stop it, and he hated how hopeful he sounded. he’d moved a fraction closer to you, but it felt like he just traveled a mile. 

“yeah,” you nodded, a little dazed, voice barely above a whisper. because dean was so close to you now, you could feel his breath on your face. you could barely think straight, because all you wanted to do was just lean in a little further— “i don’t really, uh… stop. thinkin’ about you.”

and dean’s gonna die. 

he is going to die, because you said that and you were looking down at his lips and you smelled so good and your hand was still on his face—

dean was a simple man. that’s all he’ll ever be. he’d never ask you to do something you didn’t want.

but god, he wanted you. 

so the words fell out of his mouth in another exhale—

“me, either.”

oh. 

oh. 

the way you were looking at him right now? after he said that in response?

you wanted him, too.

you’re both not sure who moved first, but your lips were on dean’s after you leaned in and he used his hand on your face to tug you to him, closing the remaining space between you both on his bed. 

the first thing you noticed?

dean tasted like home. 

you didn’t kiss him too fast. neither he with you. because you wanted to map out every inch you could, and because you were half-sure that this was some fantasy your mind had cooked up out of a state of delusion. your hand on dean’s face snaked deeper back, burying into his hair, and he groaned into your mouth at the action. 

that did something to you. the same thing happened when dean’s hand went into your hair, too— you made this little noise on his lips.

that did something to him.

kissing dean was actually gentle at first. not hesitant, but like you already knew how. but then after you’d both made those noises, it’s like a switch flipped. suddenly, there was way too much space in between you both— and you gripped onto the front of his shirt, tugging him towards you as you let your back hit his sheets, taking him down with you. 

this wasn’t like anything you’d ever felt. no, this was going on a decade of wishing, wanting, hoping for something, anything to come of you and dean besides friendship. 

and dean? dean pressed right into you, one of his hands and barely bothered to keep himself upright. he needed to touch you, feel you. another groan escapes you and him involuntarily at the friction between you both— because you’d spread your thighs, his torso fitting right between you.

and it felt good. 

you couldn’t take a full breath anymore, but you didn’t dare take your lips off of dean’s. you just tugged him closer, hand still in his hair, the other on the back of one of his shoulders.

both your lips broke with a pop, you and dean taking in the same breath of air, his nose brushing against yours and eyes fluttering, because wow.

dean didn’t know he’d said that aloud until a smile tugged on your lips, eyes looking up at him like he still wasn’t real. like this wasn’t real. 

“you know how long i’ve been waitin’ to do that?” dean breathes against your lips, eyes threatening to shut again. 

your smile gets wider as your own eyelashes flutter at the closeness, relishing in the contact of feeling dean on top of you before you respond:

“you know how long i’ve been waiting for you to do that?”

──────────────────────── 𖤐

tags: @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @bruisedfig @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina @mahi-wayy @viarasvogue @tinas111 @0ccvltism @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @lunaleah @saintfaux @kimxwinchester @bettystonewell @honeyyxxbee @harlekin705 + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[luna-azzurra]

Emotionally Questionable but Artistically Valid Things To Do When You’re a Writer Losing the Plot (Literally or Figuratively)

Write your WIP’s obituary. “She lived a chaotic life, filled with plot holes, unresolved arcs, and one very confusing love triangle. She is survived by a Google Doc, 74 sticky notes, and a Pinterest board titled ‘vibes but make it pain.’” Bonus catharsis if you make it weirdly tender. Double bonus if you actually cry a little.

Make your WIP a dating profile. Age: Timeless. Location: Trapped in your brain since 2018. Looking for: A writer who won’t ghost me mid-draft. Interests: Slow burn tension, morally gray decisions, and long walks through traumatic backstory. Will it match with anyone? No. But you might remember why you fell in love with it in the first place.

Assign your plot holes a Hogwarts house. That one you keep ignoring? Slytherin. The subplot that’s doing too much? Hufflepuff with main character energy. The gaping logic error you swear you’ll fix later? Ravenclaw, but drunk. Somehow this helps. Somehow this feels like control.

Write a resignation letter from your genre. “Dear Fantasy, it’s not you, it’s me. Actually—it is you. The worldbuilding demands are emotionally abusive, and I just want to write messy little humans having conversations that ruin their lives.” You can always go back. Or not. You’re allowed to genre-hop like a chaotic frog with a laptop.

Host a fake podcast episode where you psychoanalyze your protagonist. Today on Therapy, But Make It Fictional, we discuss why Aiden cannot maintain a single healthy relationship, the consequences of childhood abandonment, and how trauma is not a personality trait (even though he tries). Record yourself. Don’t post it. Unless you do. I won’t stop you.

Put your WIP characters in a reality show. Big Brother: Emotional Damage Edition. Who cries first? Who forms a secret alliance? Who self-destructs on Day 2 because someone used their emotional trauma as a joke? (Yes, this is basically writing. Yes, this counts.)

Create an “Am I the Problem?” chart for your WIP. Spoiler: You’re not. The plot arc from hell is. But mapping it out like a true crime board will help. Use yarn. Use vibes. Use Google Slides if you’re a Virgo. Just externalize the chaos.

Write fanfiction… of your own book. That spicy scene you know you won’t put in because it messes with pacing? Write it. That “what if they shared a bed but didn’t touch” trope you secretly crave? Give in. You are your first fan. Be delulu. Be free.

Create a soundtrack for your villain’s redemption arc that will never happen. Include Lana Del Rey. Include Mitski. Include at least one angry violin solo. You don’t have to redeem them, but you can imagine them staring into the rain while “The Sound of Silence” plays.

Doodle your plot like a crime scene. Victim: Narrative Cohesion. Suspects: A surprise third act twist, a talking sword, and that one flashback chapter that broke the timeline. Go full corkboard-and-pushpins energy. You’ll either solve it or at least feel like an unhinged genius. Which is basically the same.

[gf2bellamy]

hi lovely,

is there a way you could do one where all the members of the bau are talking about relationships (so like rossi talking about his 3 wives etc.) and the reader talks about how toxic her past relationships were and spencer mumbles something like “i could do so much better” and morgan hears it and exposes him? and it mayyybbeee ends with them kissing somewhere that they think is secluded but actually isn’t and everyone sees and becomes really proud of spence for finally making a move? i feel like it would be really cute :)

thank you so so much you’re awesome !!

- 🐚

offer — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of boyfriends forgetting anniversaries and forgetting to text back , a/n: ELE !! this is so so so so old ohmygod i just found this in my drafts </3

“I’ll have you know that I was not the problem in my marriages,” Rossi declared, his tone defensive as he stood next to Emily’s desk.

It was late—far later than any of them should have still been at the office—but for some reason, the entire team had collectively hit a wall of boredom. What had started as chatter had somehow devolved into what could only be described as a group of high schoolers gossiping in the cafeteria.

Derek, leaning back in his chair with that signature smirk plastered across his face, raised an eyebrow. “Three divorces, and you weren’t the problem?” he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Come on, Rossi.”

You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath, the sound barely audible but enough to draw Rossi’s attention.

His eyes landed on you, and he pointed an accusatory finger in your direction. “You seem to be enjoying this a little too much,” he said, his tone offended. “What about you, huh? You’re telling me you’ve only had flawless relationships your entire life?”

You shrugged, leaning back in your chair with a playful grin. “No, but I didn’t have three divorces either,” you shot back, your tone light but teasing.

“Touché,” Rossi said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Garcia, who had been perched on the edge of Spencer’s desk, immediately leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Ooh, gossip! Nice. Tell us,” she said, clapping her hands together. “We need details. Spill the tea!”

You glanced at her, then around the room, suddenly feeling like you were under a microscope. Spencer, who had been quietly flipping through a book at his desk for most of the conversation, finally looked up, his gaze flickering toward you with mild interest.

You hesitated, feeling a little put on the spot.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you said, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to downplay it. “Just, you know… the usual. Missing anniversaries. Forgetting Valentine’s Day. Not texting back. That kind of stuff.”

“The usual?!” Garcia exclaimed, her voice rising an octave as she leaned forward, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Honey, no. That’s not ‘the usual.’ That’s just… bad boyfriend behavior.”

You glanced at her, shrugging half-heartedly as you tapped your fingers on the table. “I guess so,” you said, your tone nonchalant but your cheeks warming.

The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into a full-blown interrogation about your love life—or lack thereof.

But before you could steer the conversation elsewhere, Derek suddenly chimed in.

“Reid,” he said, drawing out the name like he’d just stumbled upon the juiciest piece of gossip. A smirk was already spreading across his face, and you didn’t like the look of it one bit.

Your eyes darted between Derek and Spencer.

Spencer froze, his head snapping up like a deer caught in headlights. His face turned an impressive shade of red, and he shot Derek a desperate look that screamed, Don’t you dare.

Derek, of course, ignored him entirely. “Aww, pretty boy over here just mumbled that he could do so much better than your old boyfriends,” he announced, his smirk widening.

The room fell silent for a beat, everyone’s attention shifting to Spencer, who looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

You stared at him, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise, while Garcia let out an audible gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. Even Rossi raised an eyebrow.

Spencer, for his part, looked like he was having an internal crisis. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. “I—” he started, his voice barely above a whisper, before trailing off entirely.

His face was now so red it practically matched the color of Garcia’s latest neon headband.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Spencer,” you said, your tone teasing but gentle, “did you really say that?”

He glanced at you, his eyes wide and panicked, before quickly looking away. “I—I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammered, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his book. “I just meant that… that you deserve someone who… who…” He trailed off again, clearly flustered, and you could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to find a way to dig himself out of this hole.

Derek, of course, wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “Oh, he meant it,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “Pretty boy’s got a crush.”

The room erupted into laughter. Spencer, meanwhile, looked like he was seriously considering fleeing the building.

His face was practically glowing at this point, and he was avoiding eye contact with everyone—especially you.

You, on the other hand, were torn between amusement and something else—something warm and fluttery that you weren’t quite ready to examine too closely.

“Well,” you said, your tone light but your cheeks feeling suspiciously warm, “I guess I’ll have to hold you to that, Spencer.”

He glanced at you again. “I—uh—” he started, but before he could say anything else, Rossi clapped his hands together, effectively cutting off the conversation.

“Alright, alright,” Rossi said, his tone amused. “Let’s give the kid a break before he spontaneously combusts. Coffee run, anyone?”

The team agreed, wanting a reason to leave the office, as everyone began gathering their things.

You stayed seated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Spencer, who was still looking thoroughly mortified. But as you watched him, you couldn’t help but smile.

As the rest of the team filed out of the room, chattering and laughing as they headed for the elevators, Spencer remained at his desk, his head down as he shuffled papers and books into his bag.

He was so caught up in his embarrassment that he didn’t seem to notice anything around him—including the fact that you were still sitting there, watching him.

When he finally looked up and saw you, he flinched slightly, as if he hadn’t realized you were still in the room. His eyes widened for a moment before he quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

Without a word, he stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and made a beeline for the door, clearly eager to escape.

You stayed seated for a moment longer, your pen clicking absently against the table as you watched him go.

He paused briefly at the door, his hand on the frame, and muttered a small, barely audible “Bye” without meeting your eyes.

That was when you decided to follow him.

Grabbing your bag, you jumped up from your chair, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the now-empty bullpen. “Spence, hold on!” you called out, your voice carrying down the hallway.

Spencer's hand instinctively reached out to stop the elevator doors from closing as they began to slide shut. He held them open, as he waited for you to catch up.

You reached the elevator just as the doors started to ding in protest, and you slipped inside with a breathless “Thanks.” Spencer nodded, his cheeks still tinged with pink, and stepped back to give you space.

“That was nice of you,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence. Your voice was soft, almost tentative, as you glanced at him. “What you said back there.” You paused, your fingers nervously twisting the strap of your bag. “If you meant it,” you added, your tone unsure.

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at the elevator buttons, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his satchel. The silence stretched between you and for a moment, you wondered if you’d made a mistake bringing it up. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“I did,” he said, his voice quiet. He turned to look at you, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “I meant it.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Okay. Good,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

You realized that neither of you had pressed the button for your floor. The elevator hadn’t moved.

Spencer seemed to notice it at the same time you did. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, his arm reaching past you to press the button for his floor. His movement brought him closer—close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body, close enough that your breath mingled in the small space between you.

For a moment, he didn’t pull back. Instead, he stayed there, his face inches from yours, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to find the courage to say something—or do something.

Your heart was racing now, your pulse thundering in your ears, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his.

“Well,” you said, your voice barely audible, “I’d like to take you up on that offer.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt your cheeks flush.

But you didn’t regret it.

Not when Spencer’s eyes softened, not when his breath hitched ever so slightly, not when he leaned in just a fraction closer.

And then, before you could overthink it, before you could second-guess yourself, his hands dropped from the elevator buttons and came up to cradle your face. His touch was gentle, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks as he tilted your head up to meet his.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he were afraid you might pull away. His lips brushed against yours, warm and hesitant, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

But then, as if he could sense your response—the way your hands instinctively gripped the front of his sweater, the way you leaned into him—he deepened the kiss, his movements growing more confident.

You melted into him, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his sweater as you kissed him back, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

And then, just as Spencer deepened the kiss again, you heard it—a loud ding, followed by a chorus of gasps.

You froze, your eyes snapping open as you leaned back slightly, turning your head toward the sound.

There, standing in the open elevator doorway, was the entire team. Garcia’s hands were clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and delight. Derek was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. Emily was trying—and failing—to hide a smirk behind her coffee cup, while Rossi simply raised an eyebrow.

Spencer, however, seemed completely oblivious. His hands were still cradling your face, his eyes still closed, and before you could stop him, he leaned in again, pulling you back into another kiss.

“Spencer,” you mumbled against his lips, your hands pushing lightly against his chest. “Spencer, stop.”

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes still dazed. “What?” he murmured, his voice low and breathless.

You gestured weakly toward the doorway, your face burning. “Uh, we have an audience.”

Spencer blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to realization as he finally followed your gaze. His eyes widened, and he immediately dropped his hands from your face, stepping back so quickly he almost tripped over his own feet.

His cheeks turned a deep, unmistakable shade of red.

“Oh,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Oh no.”

The team, meanwhile, was still staring at the two of you. Garcia was the first to break the silence, clapping her hands together with a squeal. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched with excitement. “This is the best day of my life!”

Derek let out a low whistle, his grin widening. “Well, well, well,” he said, his tone teasing. “Looks like someone finally made a move.”

Emily smirked, taking a sip of her coffee. “About time,” she said, her voice affectionate.

Rossi simply shook his head, though there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Kids these days,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

You, on the other hand, were torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to disappear into the floor. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Spencer, who was still standing frozen beside you, his hands awkwardly hanging at his sides.

“Uh,” you said, your voice squeaking slightly, “this isn’t what it looks like?”

Garcia let out a delighted laugh, clapping her hands again. “Oh, honey, it’s exactly what it looks like,” she said, her tone gleeful. “And I am here for it.”

Derek stepped forward, slapping Spencer on the shoulder with a grin. “Nice work, pretty boy,” he said, his tone teasing but not unkind. “Took you long enough.”

Spencer, for his part, looked like he was having an internal crisis. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. Finally, he managed to stammer, “I—uh—we—it’s not—”

He closed his mouth instantly, looking even more mortified, and you finally couldn’t help it—you laughed.

“Well,” Garcia said with a grin, “I think this calls for a celebration.”

“Or,” Spencer muttered, voice still hoarse with embarrassment, “a full-scale relocation and change of identity.”

You turned to him, still grinning, and nudged him lightly. “Sorry, genius,” you teased. “No take-backs.”

Spencer ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Wasn’t considering that,” he mumbled, his eyes flickering down to your lips for the briefest of moments before he seemed to remember that you still had an audience.

He quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing red.

The team, of course, didn’t miss a beat. Derek let out a low whistle, his grin widening. “Oh, he’s gone,” he said, his tone teasing. “Look at him. Absolutely smitten.”

Garcia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “I’m framing this moment in my mind forever.”

You and Spencer exchanged a look, both of you clearly on the same page: it was time to make an exit.

Without a word, you both started walking down the hallway. The team’s laughter and commentary followed you, their voices carrying down the corridor.

“Don’t think this is over!” Garcia called after you, her tone gleeful. “I expect a full debrief tomorrow!”

Just as you thought you were in the clear, Spencer’s hand reached for yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. You glanced at him, surprised but not unhappy, and he gave you a small, sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice low. “I just… wanted to.”

You smiled back, your heart skipping a beat. “I’m not complaining,” you said, your voice soft.

For a moment, it felt like you were in your own little world, the rest of the BAU and their teasing far behind you. But then, just as you were about to relax, you heard Garcia’s voice echo down the hallway.

“I saw that!” she squealed, her tone triumphant. “Hand-holding! This is happening!”

[yanderelovebites]

Adding on: Barbara finds out and what leads to them coming back to Gotham

Barbara would be the one to find them. She’d be shocked and be like “WE THOUGHT YOU DIED OR SOMETHING?!” Sibling would be like “Almost did. Was shot. Three time, Miss Gordon. But I’m here. Meet my partner (insert partner). Now if you’ll excuse us we like dealing with the no bat zone, thank you very much. (Insert hero) isn’t nearly as annoying or hurtful.”

That would set it off for Barbara. “You’re telling me you’re hiding from them? Your family?” “Yes, yes I am. Not like they’d care, for fucks sake I got shot because dad didn’t. Anyway, what brings you to (city name)?”

Like she’d be so overwhelmed that ANOTHER ONE OF THEM WERE ASSUMED DEAD AND NO THEY’RE NOT! “This is like Jason all over again.” They’d say “Nah, he actually died first. Harley Quinn found me in time to take care of me before she crawled back to Joker.” That was the real punch to the gut. “You accepted the help of **her**?!”! They’d nod and say “best two months in my life in Gotham, really. Anyway and why is that a problem?” They don’t see this as substantial since Barbara knows what’s going on in the manor. They’d say “look I’m happy here, plus I’ve gone to therapy. I’m healing and this is home to me. Now me and partner need to get going.”

Barbara would be so confused and look into them herself because yeah. I feel like the biological version of sibling would be some type of doctor, usually a surgeon and not because Thomas Wayne was one, simply because deep down they do want to save lives. They just aren’t a hero.

An adopted sibling scenerio I’d envision more of a more passionate career. They’re either in business with a passionate love for their product or my personal favorite, a dog trainer. Specifically they train service dogs.

Barbara would tell the batfam when she gets back and they’re all, except the trio as they’re post sibling’s kidnapping, surprised. They’re alive?

Bruce obviously is relieved they’re safe, but then upset they never came home. I feel like he’d find Harley in jail and speak to her, pretending he’s asking in favor of Bruce Wayne, but she’d be like “Aw that poor kid? Yeah, I remember them. I was runnin’ from some people angry at Mr. J while we were on break. I hid and there the poor sugar was, three bullet wound. The guys must have been amateurs ‘cause not one hit any vitals. Bandaged them up and told me about their home life, didn’t blame ‘em for not wanting to go home. Why? Whatcha need about that sweetheart?” She laughs and says “Sounds to me they’re doin’ just fine on their own. Lemme guess, their family worried bout em?” Batman said they thought they were dead and she laughs again, “I didn’t hear anything about that. The amount of criminals here? Yeah, if they were to know that they’d fight over who hands em over. All for money.” He then says, “So you knew they’re a Wayne?” Harley nods, “Of course, I did!”

Dick is one of the worser to hear about all this. How could they prefer HARLEY QUINN over them? Or leaving Gotham than going back home?

Dick doesn’t understand it at all and is quite upset.

Jason isn’t as upset as everyone else. Jason isn’t anywhere near as yandere or obsessed because he’s been where she’s been sorta. His was way more traumatic, but he understands not wanting to come home. He also understands making herself something that isn’t Wayne, he’s actually kinda proud she could just move on. Yes this does make the rest of the family annoyed.

Tim? EXTREMELY annoyed that this is how they find out. He looks into it and there they are with their lover. He’ll be concerned if they’re a villain kid. He’ll look through everything and feel a pang in his heart. They wanted to help people. And they have.

The worst person is DAMIEN. Damien has been HAUNTED by images of her death and Alfred’s. He needed this, more than anything. He’s the worst one. He won’t settle for her ‘being happy’. For some time the others would attempt to keep him away from doing something irrational, especially Jason because again he gets **why** they didn’t come home.

The longest time it’s how it is. Bruce doesn’t want to compromise what appears to be a happy life for them. Especially when the hero in her current city says she’s doing okay, thinking he’s trying to help ‘Bruce Wayne’ feel okay about the child who went missing. Jason holds Damien back with the help from our three post-batsibling kids. Then it happens. Joker gets involved in the city because he being the dick he is, somehow knows the Bat’s identity (like in SOME iterations of Joker) and Joker decided to target batsibling. Batman is called via league and while helping the hero, Harley does turn on Joker once she realizes exactly what he was planning to do. Does joker question it? A little because it’s out of character for her to turn on him like that.

While they’re trying to save them by dealing with Joker, their partner would have found their way up. It’s even better if this is a villain kid because they probably hijacked their parent’s stuff to do this. Just when they think they’re safe they hear a gun go off and it got the partner.

Imagine bat sibling balling their eyes out, holding their lover’s corpse, while the heroes and Harley try to apprehend Joker. Then he goes for another shot which was in line to hit Batsibling, only for Harley to take the hit. This would be the last shot Joker could get.

Now if it’s a non-villain kid, it’s because Batman pinned him down, if it is a villain kid, the parent showed up and shot the gun out of Joker’s hand with one of their weapons and started to beat the crap out of him (didn’t kill him because that’s too good for him)

Villain would have been held back by their hero finally and once they’re calm (and joker is in custody lol) they’d tell the hero to let go. They’d have a whole ‘why so you can actually kill him’ and Bat sibling through choked sobs would say “He’s their son, (hero) please.”

That’s when Batman’s attention would solely look back at them. They’re no longer a child… a grown adult and they just witnessed what Bruce could only assume was their first love get murdered in front of them, trying to save them. He felt choked. “(Hero), let them go to them.”

The villain parent would rush by their dead child’s side and cradle them close. Their own child was gone FOREVER. Sibling would try saying sorry, that if they hadn’t come to save them, but villain wouldn’t hear it.

After the body is taken away, after everything… Bruce does talk to Sibling because while clearly he made his mistakes, if there was a time to be the father he’s supposed to be, it was then. At first sibling doesn’t want to hear it but Bruce ends up hugging them and saying what he could say. That he understands they just watch someone they really care about get shot and there was nothing they could have done to stop it from happening.

Sure the situation was different from when his parents died, but the emotional trauma was the same variety.

Bruce would also take full advantage of it and suggest they come back home, telling them about three new siblings she never got to meet and holding the info about Alfred, since they just lost their partner. Them, knowing they couldn’t afford to live in the apartment without their partner and knowing this city would just torment them with the past, agreed to after they put in for a transfer and go to their partner’s funeral. Bruce stays in a luxury hotel in the city, texting Tim who’d handle this the best in his mind, what was going on.

But this isn’t some tragedy you walk away from for family and magically heal over night. Nor can they really heal in the bat mansion, especially not without Alfred.

Add more about when she comes back in another reblog.

You know I’d love a batfam neglects batsis/batbro that starts not when they’re brought into the family… but show it as nightmares, flashbacks, etc. warning dead Alfred.

Have batsis/batbro move on in another hero’s city as to avoid them. Have them live happy in whatever profession of their dreams after finding themselves. Not the version behind Wayne manor, truly them. Fall in love with someone (maybe a hero kid or something. Hell secret villain kid) and every time they feel good they hear news of justice league, of bat man. Some nightmares… flashbacks…

Have each unfold the story slowly until you get to the climax, what TRULY happened. They didn’t come to this city under the best circumstances no. The reality was they were kidnapped for a hostage situation and Bruce never paid, forgot them and thought it was a fake. A scam. They survived by mere luck. They shot them and left them to rot, but much to their surprise Harley Quinn found them and helped them—it was one of her ‘redemption’ periods before going back to the Joker but she still saved them. A villain saved their life when their own family wouldn’t. That’s when they left, when she went back. They had no reason to stay and built a life away from them all. Have them confess to their lover about what happened….

Then switch to the bat family currently.

Cassandra, Steph, and Duke never knew them. They look at the few portraits of them in the manor and wonder what they were like, they don’t have the full story. The others had other varying reactions when they’re brought up. They had so many questions but since Alfred’s death, there was no one willing to tell them.

Tim still kept an eye through his skills and connections hoping to find them. He had figured out first after he noticed their lack of presence about the call Bruce had awhile back that he had a hostage situation. Bruce had been second to hear the conclusion that Tim had, that it was no scam because they had batsis/batbro. He knew they were likely dead but he couldn’t rest until a body is found… or they come back.

Damian gets quickly irritated, but he has nightmares at night that he’d never admit to or tell anyone about. He was younger, but they weren’t strong. Normally that would make him disregard them or just insult them when mentioned… but he can’t. Not anymore. At first, he’d just remember how he treated them, not these horrific nightmares, but then Alfred died. The nightmares came, repeating how Alfred died… then images of all the things that could have happened to batsis/batbro. In some, he saw a demon-like version of himself killing them… it shouldn’t bother him… but it does.

With Dick, he would wander close to their room when he was in the manor. He’d go in and look at their school achievements and the photos they had with coaches and instructors… with Alfred. He didn’t get nightmares, he barely slept since they told him what probably happened. So, so many unkept promises he’d probably never get to make up for. One picture had disappeared from the room, he never knew who had it.

Jason felt pissed every time he remembers anything about them. He avoided the manor more than ever. He blamed Bruce, but he knew deep down they all had a contribution. He was horrible to them in life and he fully believes they’re dead. He doesn’t see how they wouldn’t have come home if they were.

Then there’s poor Bruce. He lives in denial. That they’re somehow still alive. That missing picture? He took it out the frame and kept it with him. It was one of their birthdays, they had baked their own cake with Alfred and Alfred took a picture of the two of them after. He remembers he never made it home to wish them happy birthday. He made so many mistakes, let his vigilante work consume him so he forgot he had more in his life besides it. And it’s likely he lost that for good.

All means they’re obsessed about finding the truth, finding them. But when will they realize they aren’t in their city?

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{Heyyyyy, so as you can tell the brain cell said “Make the first half dramatic as FUCK” and I run with it anyway hope you caffeine fueled crows enjoy!}~

•Storm•

Something has been making its way through the USA and is heading to Gotham fast.

This all started about one week ago when a storm started to form and everyone thought was just a normal hurricane until it started to form what could only be called arms and two glowing bright blue eyes and when the eyes opened to screamed like a banshee before it started to use its clawed hands to pull itself along and with terrifying intensity and speed.

Many reports from people who have seen it in person say that it seemed like it was either looking for something or chasing something, and in its wake was a lot of damage it was clear that whatever this was didn’t care about what damage it caused and with how fast it was moving you can tell it was a problem.

But for now the problem at hand is that it is making what could only be called a Mad Dash to Gotham and it’s somehow picking up more speed and the storm has been getting worse.

And this brings us to a JL meeting

All of the JL was in the meeting room looking at all the data what little of it they had of The Storm as it had been dubbed by the public and press.

When Zatanna eyes suddenly widened at a the video she was looking at but before anyone could ask her what she saw, she casted the video to the projector at the table so all of the people in the room could see it but all they saw was one of the latest videos from a reporter helicopter a few minutes before it got shot down by lightning from The Storm but luckily Wonder Woman got there in time so no one was injured that bad.

“Zatanna what is this-“ Asked Superman but before he could finish asking Zatanna started to mess with the video, cutting out the reporter’s voice and several other things until you could only hear the noise The Storm would make, when captured on camera there are a lot of other noises but with nothing else to hear but the noise you could hear a few actual words.

“…Save…Brother…Hidden…Gotham….”

It seems this is more than a creature summoned to just make mayhem and chaos.

It was a rescue mission.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Background•

Ok so Danny with Jazz reveals that Danny is phantom and that he’s a halfa (With Sam and Tucker down the hall with four go-bags if the four of them need to get out FAST) and after their done with their all talk Maddie and Jack just start fracking the fuck out with Jack bursting into tears and immediately grabbing Danny and Jazz and bear-hugging them while saying how sorry he is and Maddie holding her head in her hands just saying “…We shot at our son…”

After the Fentons get over their metal breakdown over having hurt their son, they immediately start throwing out all of their harmful research and cut off ties with the GIW and everything is good.

Until the GIW kick down the door a few months later, turns out they don’t like not having the Fentons weapons and also somehow got the knowledge that Danny is phantom (VLAD) and immediately go open season on the Fentons.

Taking out Maddie and Jack and getting a good hit on Danny but Jazz immediately starts fighting back even ends up taking one of the fuckers out but she was overpowered and killed as well and the GIW took Danny but not after taking all of the Fentons thrown out research and dumping Jazzes body in the ocean ~{No this has nothing to do with how the suitors from epic were going to hide Telemachus body, shut up}~ and booking it to Gotham where there is a hide out that nobody knows about.

But seeing as Jazz was raised around ecto she became a ghost and let’s just say Shes Pissed

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

Little Facts

•It took Jazzes core a few months to start actually forming so the GIW has had Danny for a bit

•The GIW are absolutely Fucked

•Jazz has a Storm Core and Danny has an Ice core and if their parents become ghost (they didn’t because they were killed by ecto weapons and Jazz was just killed with a gun to the head) Maddie would have a Wind Core and Jack a Water Core

•Jazzes list of to do: Kill the GIW, Get Danny somewhere safe (The ghost Zone where Jazzes new Lair is), Destroy Vlad

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Appearances•

Jazzes Appearance

The top and skirt are two different things and are both in black and blue

Here’s what I imagine Jazz lookes like but take the green and replace it with stormy blue

Dannys Appearance

He’s wearing a hospital gown:)

And this is what inspired this bullshit!

Not the same thing but it got the brain cell to do its job so I’m not complaining.

~{And that’s it! Hope you like it until next time you beings of the Fae wilds, Byeeeeeee}~



[oddballwriter]

Hello! I have a vague idea for something, hope that's alright! I've seen other people write and it got me thinking about more and it got me thinking about more scenarios and possibilities and I started thinking about dbbq!ena x reader where the reader gets hurt and ena freaks out cause she doesn't know how to help or handle it cause she doesn't know how human or organic?? bodies work since her world and the entities there are so different from ours. Could be a smaller injury (deep cut that's just bleeding a lot but not enough to cause major problems or something) or could be a major injury (losing a limb, long deep cut, idk dawg can't think of examples, sorry) and she again, freaks out. It'd be completely up to you on what the injury is and how severe, doest matter to me. Writing this also made me wonder on whether or not an injury could get infected in her world. Is bacteria the same there? Or would it just not get infected? Also, sorry my examples aren't great and I didn't give many, I tried and my mind went blank like I'm taking a test, lol. You absolutely don't have to write this if you don't want!

Anyways, I love your writing and your doing great! Have a great day <3

Small Mishap of Personal Property

Dream BBQ ENA’s reaction to her partner getting injured

Warning: Gender neutral reader (pronouns and gender never mentioned or used). Reader getting injured (minor cut on the hand), bleeding, and pain. Implications that ENA is having a trauma-based response towards reader’s injury.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

You were trying to make a jump right behind ENA. She managed to make it fine, but you’re foot tripping on the ledge of the platform. You were set to land perfectly fine on the ground, but the knowledge that your jump went a bit wrong triggered your instincts to brace yourself for the fall or to catch yourself. The momentum made you slide just a little on your extended hands and you felt a sharp pain on one of them in particular. When you get up and check yourself for any scraps and then look to your hand, you realize that you’ve cut yourself on something and that’s what the sharp pain was.

It looks a bit deep and it’s actively bleeding, and of course stings with pain, but it’s not that bad. You’d probably just need to wash the wound and wrap it with something

But you hear the sound of ENA glitching, with bother her voices making noise. You look up at her and she’s already lunging to you and taking your hand

You can see it on her face that she’s panicking and worried

Her salesperson side is jabbering about “critical work ethic violation” and “liability to precious cargo” to which her meanie side comes and starts looking genuinely panicked rather than scolding you

She’s really freaking out, you can’t fully understand why. Maybe she’s so worried because she still doesn’t fully understand how injuries work for you and knows that avoiding pain and injuries is a thing “programmed into your squishy code source (your brain)”, and thinks that all injuries are bad for you. Or a response that she has that comes from a more… troubling time.

Either way, you make an effort to reassure her that you’re fine and just need to clean and bandage it

She looks at you confused. Like you just said a concept that is alien to her.

…maybe it is? Maybe people don’t get injured the same way you do as a human. Maybe when people here get hurt they just regenerate or something. Maybe this is the first time ENA’s ever heard of having to clean and dress a wound. Do you even need to clean it? Do infections exist here? Like bacteria? What the hell would you even clean it with? There’s nothing here like actual water. Or anything that can be a bandage

You set for ripping off a piece of your clothes that would work

ENA watches you intensely, like she’s watching you do surgery as you wrap your hand and tie it to keep it from slipping off

You show your hand to her and say “See? All better.”

She visibly calms down and her salesperson side pipes up, commenting “Fascinating. Have we mitigated the collateral damage of our form?”

You tell her yes, through you might have to take the safer route next time till it your hand heals and avoid getting another one and possibly freak her out again

She agrees and vows to “take less business risks when in the possession of highly valuable properties of my admirations.”

[bunnysdollette]

An honest conversation about social media 🍵

DOLLETTE DIARIES 02

+I’ve started limiting my social media intake and I just feel so much better. Not only do I have a clearer mind and I have more time to do things that make me happier instead of mindlessly doomscrolling.

How I did it:

I’ve tried almost everything to limit my social media intake in past years but nothing has worked. I always found myself crawling back. What really changed the game for me was, being at my breaking point.

The constant comparison, procrastination, and lack of motivation that I had as a result of being chronically online has really left a dent in my life. I’m only starting to recover now. I went to TikTok, my main social media and hid it making it take more time to access and also made it so it required a passcode. These things deterred me from wanting to use it and every time I opened it reminding myself I was not staying true to my goals. There are multiple different tools you can use, but this is what worked for me and now I avg less than 10 min each day.

How limiting social media use makes you happier:

Honestly when you have too many hours on social media you find yourself completely disconnected from reality. Everyone is a profile with a username and pictures, you don’t see them as real people. You don’t see numbers as real people, either. It’s just a huge distraction. Maturing is realizing it is that damn phone and the quicker you realize how to swap social media for actually living life, you can start feeling happier. I know a lot of people also suffer from mental illness like myself, and certain videos or comments on social media would trigger me to think about some really painful experiences or trigger unhealed mental wounds/trauma to re open.

If you are going to use social media, use it consciously. Social media is not real.

Suggestions:

🍵 If you have tried this and it’s not working for you, set smaller goals. For example, 6 hours of TikTok to 3 hours. And go slowly less and less from there.

🍵 work on building a healthier attention span. This can be done through simple steps like reading more, reading slower and really savoring each word, getting homework done first thing and so on so fourth. having a bad attention span can cause a lot of problems, so it’s important to work on that now.

🍵 find a healthier alternative. e.g. tumblr. and use it for actually trying to pursue goals , not just entertainment.

🍵 hold yourself accountable: if you’re not honest with yourself about how social media continues to affect your life then nothing will ever change.

[juli3ette]

Sunny Day Jack: What to (Possibly) Expect

I don’t usually write much here apart from my occasional “intrusive thoughts”, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now.

The full game has yet to be fully released still, and there’s been many instances in the past which prevented it from doing so—which culminated in many people leaving SnaccPop and wanting refunds.

Sure I was disappointed but I’m still relatively hopeful that something might be released (albeit idk who’s in charge of SWWSDJ at this time given that Jambeebot resigned for the sake of their mental health)

But that’s not what I’m going to write about.

I’m going to list out a couple of predictions for how I think the game will play out.

Now, without further ado, let's dive in!

(CW// mentioning of murder, sexual content)

MULTIPLE ENDINGS:

So what I’m predicting right off the bat is that there might be multiple endings.

Once again, I don’t exactly know what will happen, but I do have some speculations:

ENDING 1 - Unconditional Love: (Good Ending)

This is in homage to some theories claiming that Jack is actually Joseph but in the form of a tulpa; making him appear as Jack. (Which would explain his efforts to conceal “himself” while eating the worst froyo recipe)

So how this would play out is Jack [slowly] turning into Joseph/Jacktor over the course of the game (more so towards the middle or end of the game)

Jack would become terrified of this and try everything in his power to conceal Joseph.

However his attempts will be futile and Jacktor/Joseph will still show.

His technicolor tulpa will eventually wear off and the real Joseph will be revealed. (Hair turns from blue to brown, tattoos will show and his outfit will change)

Now that his “family friendly” facade is gone, Jacktor fears that MC won’t love him anymore now that his “real self” is out.

But MC reassures him that they’ll still love him regardless.

(Surprisingly enough, Jacktor still remembers MC)

I also predict that this will happen in the Jack Route (however it might also happen in whichever route you take, regardless if you choose Jack or not)

ENDING 2 - Best Friends For-Never: (True Ending)

Jack is fed up with MC’s other friends and “eliminates” them.

MC is mortified at Jacks actions and decides they’ve had enough of Jack.

They’re tired of Jacks manipulation and abuse.

MC then performs an “exorcism” on Jack and banishes him inside the VHS tape. Then they can either choose to:

donate/throw away the VHS (making Jack someone else’s problem)

or to destroy the VHS so that Jack remains forgotten forever (Jacks worst nightmare)

I also predict that this ending might happen in any other route besides Jack’s

ENDING 3 - Best Friends Forever (Bad Ending)

This is somewhat of an extraction from Ending 2.

So, you know how Jack is ready to be your friend ‘till the very end in the most literal sense?

This is quite literally just that.

I don’t have the proper words to describe word for word for this, so let me just briefly describe it.

MC is tired of Jacks manipulation and tries to banish him back into the VHS….

But if Jack is gonna have to go there, he’s not gonna go back in there alone…..

Jack drags MC into the TV with him into his “VHS Purgatory/Hell” so that way he’ll have a best friend….forever….

And then MC is never heard from again….

I’m also making a prediction that this might happen in the other routes

(I think there might’ve been other predictions for endings but I can’t seem to remember them)

ENDING 4 - Back Together: (Neutral Ending)

For this ending, I'm predicting that Jack might possess Ian towards the end of the game.

Possessing a living person to be with the one you love in the flesh? Definitely something Jack would do!

“He said we could be together, forever and always…”

GAMEPLAY:

I have some predictions for what might happen in the gameplay--depending on which route you take--given the demo, various HCs and theories by other fans:

JACK:

Jack’s true [yandere] nature shows up when Shaun arrives

Jack haunts the others' dreams at night to torment them (or coerces them to take their own life)

Becomes more deranged as the story progresses

I'm also predicting that we might see a "scary version" of Jack

NICK:

MC is in a BDSM relationship with Nick (+ a sex scene)

Is eventually sent to a mental institution; due to constant nightmares/hallucinations of Jack

Nick is eventually forced to break-up with MC (which redirects MC back to Jack)

"I'm not supposed to talk to you." "He said I wasn't allowed to talk to you."

SHAUN:

There’s a sex scene between MC and Shaun

Jack would become increasingly frustrated with Shaun’s presence

I also have a huge feeling that Shaun is also able to sense Jack, much like MC

IAN:

MC might chose to either give Ian another chance (which might be unlikely) or doesn’t want to take him back

If MC chooses the Ian Route, there might possibly be a “make-up” sex scene

Jack might possess Ian at some point (see ENDING 4)

MISC:

Other events we might possibly see:

Joseph making appearances as either as a photo or flashback

Barry (the boss) possibly being flirtatious and/or trying to "have his way" with MC; which would lead to Jack haunting Barry and giving him nightmares (possibly even eliminating him if needed)

The woman (who appears to be Ian's boss) makes an appearance

I'm also predicting that someone will die. Either Shaun, Ian, or even both of them. (For Nick, I'm not sure. Worst I can think of is permanent institutionalization)

🖤🖤🖤

Thank you all for taking the time to read my ideas.

Once again, I’m not a psychic. I’m just making my predictions based on what I know and believe.

I’m not sure if or when the full game will be released, but I’m always hopeful.

Until next time! :D

[kinbedo]

Have we been too critical with Natlan? Too harsh?

This art actually made me realise that Natlan isn’t as “modern” in terms of design as people put it. With Kinich and Wriotheseley right next to each other, you can easily say that Kinich’s bandana and earrings make him look pretty old-fashioned compared to Wriothesely. Even in the background, the Fontaine girls’ fashion has a completely different vibe while Ororon and Ifa do look like they’re from tribal settlements.

“Kinich looks like he should be in zzz.” The more I look at it, the less likely it seems. Sure, Kinich’s design doesn’t give that same ancient vibe like some other characters from other nations do, but he doesn’t feel “modern” enough to fit into zzz either. He’s stranded somewhere in between.

I’ve seen some people say that they don’t know what “Natlan” is supposed to be, as in it’s difficult to group the Natlan characters as part of one nation. Well, I believe the very “Natlan” thing about the characters (minus Mavuika and Varesa) are their accessories and the patterns on their clothes. There is a certain tribal vibe to each of the characters-

Kachina’s little forehead accessory, her top, and the arm cuffs

Mualani’s beach theme along with her bangles and the patterns on her skirt

Citlali’s clothes, her hair accessory (especially with the feathers) and her bangles and arm cuffs

Kinich’s tattoos, earrings and bandana

Chasca’s earrings and her cape with tassels

Iansan’s arm cuffs, necklace and the feathers and tassels

Ifa’s necklace and feathers

Ororon’s tattoos, scarf and cape and the patterns on them

Xilonen’s bangles and rings and her excessive hand accessories

What is Natlan? Flamboyant earrings, tattoos, feathers in the designs, tassels on their clothes, bangles and arm cuffs. Natlan character designs are not simple, they all have a bit too many tiny patterns all over them.

The main problem came with Mavuika’s design. I don’t remember Natlan hate being as overbearing as it is now before Mavuika’s bike was revealed. On top of all that, she is supposed to be from 500 years ago. And yet, she was seemingly the most modern character in Natlan.

As for Natlan’s technology, no, most of it is not more advanced than Fontaine, except Mavuika’s bike which was pretty uncanny (and Varesa’s stickers).

Chasca’s gun feels like a very primitive, very risky, attempted two-in-one version of the Antoine Roger Aircraft and a gun. Xilonen mentions that her gun is harder to tame than the wildest of qucusaurs.

Ajaw is an ancient dragon, and according to the lore, the dragons were highly advanced. Ajaw can also be referenced back in the “Little One” world quest in the Sacred Mountains. Also, during Tighnari’s quest, Abattouy’s experiments were recorded and were displayed through a projector. We also have film makers in Fontaine, and to present films, we need screens where they can be projected. So, we can say that the ‘projection’ technology is not a sudden thing unique to Ajaw.

Another problem with Natlan was the pace of the story.

Being released after Fontaine, people had high expectations for Natlan. Those high expectations only led to people being more disappointed with the archon quests. In Fontaine, every character got enough screentime or mentions for us to learn about their character. They made us grow attached to the characters and created a very emotionally immersive experience where the traveler wasn’t the main character. Almost every Fontaine character was the mc in their own rights.

Natlan, on the other hand, leaned into the typical “otherworldly hero saves the day” cliché with the traveler. The quests were also much shorter, not giving us any time to sympathise with the characters.

Giving credit where credit is due, the 5.1 war quest was phenomenal. The voice acting conveyed panic and the environment showed the destruction of war. Hoyo, overall, was heading in the right direction. And yet, Chuychu’s death didn’t hit hard enough because we barely knew her.

I don’t think most of the people would have minded it if the overall quest was 2 hours longer but elaborated more on the characters. Hoyo should have given us more time, more instances to familiarise with the cast while slowly building up for the war.

Commissions with Kachina to clear out hilichurl camps, visiting the Scions of the Canopy with Kinich where we’re shown how much busier they’ve gotten, searching for Xilonen only to realise she’s all over the place trying her best to get the weapon ready. Nature is very sensitive to changes and animals are highly perceptive to disturbances and this could have been conveyed through Ororon and his farm and Ifa and him noticing the saurians getting more restless.

The war arc should have been after all the tribes were released. This way, we could’ve gotten to know the characters better and the situation would’ve had even more of an impact. What made the desensitisation worse was the fact that the tribal chronicles, the supposed story quests, barely focused on the characters themselves, thus making us even more disconnected.

They didn’t have to give all the tribes their own, major region. They could have made the tribe areas smaller and released them as part of one region and instead given us land with destruction. This part comes under environmental story-telling. We could have gotten map expansions showing how some places have become inhabitable, like the islands in Inazuma.

We also could have gotten a really cool cutscene with all the characters during the war. Natlan has introduced new travel mechanics and a cutscene where we see the things in first person through another character’s eyes would have been really cool.

We could’ve had Mualani surfing over the water and falling in as she’s trying to get to places that need her, the camera angle switching to finally show Mualani, getting back on her surfboard. Kinich traversing through the thick woods, the leaves getting in his face. He turns to look at the destruction around him, knowing that the people laying on the ground may never wake up. Xilonen roller skating and trying to rescue people. Varesa rushing up the volcano and breaking the rocks along her way. A cutscene like this could have conveyed the sense of panic everyone felt during the war. It could have ended with Chasca, stumbling to the ground in front of the Stadium with Chuychu in her hands.

Also, you’re telling me the power of the six heroes was enough to break through the false sky, and yet Mavuika only needed the traveler to help her put an end to the 500 year long struggle? When the traveler needed to get to the hotspots, they had to wait for the hot air balloon to slowly take them there? While Mavuika, the only person with a bike, the fastest vehicle in the nation, stayed back in the Stadium?

If Mavuika didn’t have a bike, perhaps certain parts of Natlan wouldn’t feel so odd.

What could Mavuika have had instead? I was imagining her abilities to look like Bakugou’s from My Hero Academia. To put it in simplest words possible, Bakugou can create explosions from the sweat on his palm, and can use those explosions for movement and attacking. Mavuika’s abilities could have revolved around thermodynamics.

Another thing I wish they had highlighted with Mavuika was why the pyro archon is human. Perhaps they could have added points such as “the fire power burning away at the weilder’s body, and since it gets too much for them to handle, the pyro archon has to be switched regularly, and is thus human.” They could have added other clues to this in her design, such as making it seem like her skin is slightly burnt near her hair.

I will add more to this as and when I notice things. This was just me clumsily putting together my thoughts on Natlan’s design and story. And the more I think about it, the more I realise that my distaste for Natlan was more heavily formed by community opinions rather than my own. “Complain impact” really does feel apt when all the people have done is point out the shortcomings rather than appreciate the overall details.

If you got this far, thank you for being patient with me. I would love to hear your thoughts too!

[httpvomitello]

Fake Dating for a Mission (Peter Parker, Y/N)Peter panics when the mission requires him to pretend to be engaged — and of course, Y/N gets volunteered to be his fake fiancé

I hope you like it ~ ♡♡

(I decided to do it with Andrew, since you didn't specify which Peter it would be, but you can imagine with any of them!)

Act Natural .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: When a mission goes sideways, Peter Parker ends up needing a fake fiancée to maintain cover — and somehow, you’re the one getting dragged into the act. You agree to help him out, just for the mission. Totally professional. Totally fake. Totally not a problem… until it is.

peter parker x f!reader

You knew something was wrong the second Peter walked into the safe house.

He was holding a small box in one hand.

A ring box.

You raised an eyebrow from where you sat, lacing up your boots.

“Either you’ve really misread our dynamic, Parker, or we’ve got a situation.”

Peter looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“There’s been… a change of plans.”

You stood. Crossed your arms.

“Talk.”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck — that nervous tic you’d seen a hundred times. “The contact we’re meeting thinks I’m engaged. It’s a security thing — he doesn’t trust anyone unless they’re, y’know, ‘settled down.’”

You blinked.

“And?”

“And they asked for photos. Of me. With my fiancée. At our apartment. That we supposedly share.”

You stared at him.

“You have a fake fiancée and a fake apartment?”

He winced.

“I panicked.”

You laughed — a short, incredulous sound. “Peter, what the hell?”

“They were going to cut off communications! I didn’t have a choice!”

You stared at him for another long beat. “Okay. Fine. So who’s the lucky girl?”

And that’s when he turned red. Slowly. From the base of his neck to the tips of his ears.

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh no,” you said flatly. “No, Peter. Don’t even—”

“They already think it’s you,” he blurted. “I showed them that picture from the gala, the one where you were fixing my tie—they assumed, okay? I didn’t correct them. It just happened.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

“Please,” he added, eyes soft. “Just until we get the intel. A few days tops. Then we vanish and let the ‘engagement’ quietly die.”

You hated how earnestly he looked at you. Like saving the world might actually depend on you pretending to be in love with him.

You also hated the part of you that didn’t hate it.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But I’m not doing any of that mushy PDA stuff.”

The fake apartment was uncomfortably convincing.

Framed photos of the two of you lined the walls. Mugs with both your initials sat by the sink. There was even a half-solved puzzle on the coffee table with a sticky note that read: Don’t touch, Pete!

You stared at it, unblinking. “You really went all in, huh?”

Peter had the decency to look sheepish. “They asked a lot of questions.”

You wandered into the bedroom — one bed. Of course.

He followed a beat later, rubbing his neck again.

“I can take the couch,” he offered.

You raised a brow. “You sure? Might break your back. You are getting old.”

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“Ancient.”

He grinned, and damn it, you hated that it made your heart skip.

You lasted three hours before the first awkward moment.

You were both on the couch, watching the monitors, when the door buzzed. Peter answered it—and there stood the contact, smile wide, eyes suspiciously calculating.

“Just in the neighborhood,” the man said. “Thought I’d drop off the next intel packet. And meet the lucky girl.”

You stepped into frame with what you hoped was a casual smile.

“Hi,” you said. “Nice to meet you.”

The man raised a brow. “No ring?”

You froze. Peter’s eyes went wide.

“Oh,” he said, fumbling in his pocket. “Yeah, I’ve got it right—here.”

He pulled out the ring box like it was a live grenade.

And then, right there in the living room, in front of a guy with five known aliases and a history of stabbing people with pens, Peter dropped to one knee.

Your jaw dropped.

“Pete—”

“It’s for the cover,” he hissed under his breath, barely moving his lips. “Just go with it.”

You stared at him.

He opened the box.

You blinked down at the simple, elegant band. He looked up at you, eyes wide and nervous and something else you couldn’t name.

You swallowed.

“Guess I have to say yes, huh?”

The contact laughed, clapping his hands. “Of course she does! Look at that face!”

You extended your hand, and Peter slipped the ring on.

His fingers brushed yours and lingered—just a second too long.

Neither of you said anything after the man left.

You sat back down. Quiet.

Peter finally broke the silence.

“That was… weird.”

You nodded.

“Yup.”

He looked down at your hand. At the ring.

“You okay?”

You shrugged.

“Just didn’t think my first proposal would be a tactical one.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh.

You didn’t say it out loud, but it didn’t feel as fake as it should’ve.

You were asleep on the couch when Peter covered you with a blanket.

You didn’t see it — the way he paused, just looking at you for a second too long.

Didn’t hear the way he whispered, so softly no one could catch it:

“Not that fake, though. Not for me.”

You and Peter didn’t talk about the fake proposal. Or the ring that still sat on your finger, snug and warm and far too heavy for something pretend.

It was easier to pretend it hadn’t shifted something.

Easier to stick to the mission.

But “easier” didn’t mean simple — especially not with the way Peter started acting like he’d really put that ring there for a reason.

Two weeks later brought a new wrinkle: dinner with the contact and his wife.

Couples dinner.

Great.

Peter stood behind you as you got ready, his reflection hovering just behind yours in the mirror.

“You look…” His voice trailed off.

You glanced at him through the mirror.

“What?”

He blinked. “Nice.”

You turned around, arms crossed. “That’s it? Just nice?”

Peter flushed. “I meant—no, I mean, you look really nice. Like, distractingly nice. Like I might walk into a wall.”

You smirked. “Better.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “We should go.”

Dinner was weirdly domestic.

Peter pulled out your chair. Topped off your glass. Rested his hand on your knee under the table like he’d done it a hundred times.

And you let him.

Mostly because you had to sell it. Not because his hand was warm and comforting. Or because the skin-to-skin contact made your brain short-circuit.

Totally not that.

When the other couple excused themselves to the kitchen, Peter leaned over and murmured near your ear.

“You’re doing great.”

You turned slightly, lips dangerously close to his.

“So are you.”

There was a flicker in his eyes — a pause, a maybe.

Then the moment passed.

But you felt it. Like a wire pulled tight between you, humming with tension.

Back at the apartment, the air felt heavier.

Peter leaned in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed, watching you set the ring on the nightstand.

“I, uh… I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

You looked up. “For what?”

He shrugged. “For pulling you into this. It wasn’t fair.”

You softened. “It’s okay, Peter. I volunteered.”

“Still,” he murmured. “You deserve better than playing house with a guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt without it being an op.”

You stepped closer. “Was that flirting?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Earlier. With the hand-on-knee, wine-refill, whispering-in-my-ear stuff.”

A pause.

“…Maybe.”

You tilted your head. “You’re kind of a dork, Parker.”

He smiled — crooked, boyish, and entirely too endearing.

“I get that a lot.”

The silence that followed was full. Expectant.

You should’ve turned in. Should’ve walked away.

Instead, you moved first.

You reached up, fingers brushing the collar of his shirt.

“I think we’re too good at pretending,” you murmured.

Peter’s eyes dropped to your lips. “I’m starting to wish we weren’t pretending at all.”

And just like that — he kissed you.

Slow and cautious at first, like he expected you to pull away. But when you didn’t — when you kissed him back — his hands found your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

The kiss deepened, messy and uncoordinated and a little desperate — like two people who’d been holding back for too long.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you stared at each other like you’d just crossed a line.

Because you had.

“…That wasn’t for the mission,” you whispered.

Peter shook his head slowly. “No. No, it wasn’t.”

You didn’t say anything else. Just leaned your forehead against his cheast, eyes closed, trying to breathe past the chaos in your chest.

[angel-writes-here]

Bad Judgment

Daesung x Reader Synopsis: Your breakup has been rough, but bad choices lead to interesting consequences. Warnings: Drinking, reader is drugged at a club, fluff A/N: The Squeal to Love You, Goodbye. Not that it needs to be said, but if you go out, please protect your drinks! Keep an eye on them all night and be aware of your surroundings! Love You Goodbye

It’s been two months since you and Daesung said goodbye. You still hadn’t adjusted, his presence seemed to loom in your bed, the ghost of it anyway. Memories flood the apartment, countless meals shared over wine, usually leading into drunk karaoke. Times that the pressures of life just simply got to either of you and needing each other’s warm embrace and sweet words to calm down. Times when the two of you would have petty arguments and apologize to each other later.

No matter what you did or who you tried to bring home, nothing could fix the pain. So, what is one left to do when nothing else fixes the issue?

Drink.

You knew it wasn’t the solution, but it took some of the sting out of the reality that he wasn’t yours anymore. That he was single and happy.

So it seems.

You’re scrolling on social media, images of the boys and him at his concert come up, a small smile spreads on your lips, seeing him happy was good, but drunk you thought everything was good.

Suddenly, a tear falls off your cheek onto the screen. You hadn’t realized you were crying. Two months of no contact whatsoever with the man you once seen yourself spending your life with, wasn’t easy. Sure, life got in the way, schedules conflicted, but you would at least text each other.

It’s just past one am, the wine is kicking in, the emotions aren’t leaving and you have one solution to this little problem.

Call Daesung.

Your heart thuds in your chest as the phone rings.

“Hello?” he asks.

“Dae?” You chew on your bottom lip. There’s a beat of silence.

“Couldn’t sleep, jagi?” he asks.

“Actually,” you breathe out as you look at the empty bottle of wine.

“I’m just a little drunk,” your buzz is slowly wearing off, talking to him sobering you up.

“I need you.”

The words sound like they come from a different person.

“Y/n,” he sighs, “We ended things for a reason,” he sighs.

“I gotta go, just don’t do anything stupid.” He warns before hanging up.

The nerve of this man. Your heart is broken and when you asked for him to repair it, he says no and tells you what to do?

Ha

You get up defiantly, slipping on a tight black dress and shoes that add a couple more inches to your stature.

You walk out of the apartment with one goal.

Do something stupid.

The club is filled with alcohol, bodies, and bad judgments. The music thuds in your chest as the alcohol burns going down. You’re going shot for shot, some random guy you can’t even remember the name of is buying you.

“What was your name again?” He yells over the music.

“Y/N!”

He nods, not offering his name in return. But tonight, you didn’t care. The alcohol was doing it’s thing and you lead the man out to the dance floor.

Your hips grind against him, the air of the club slightly stuffy as you notice the room starts to spin. You shake your head as you notice your breathing becomes more labored, the feeling of the man’s hands on your hips gets tighter as he notices the state you’re unwillingly falling into.

“What the hell did you do to me?” you turn around the guy acts as if he doesn’t hear you. You stumble, trying to run from him, almost tripping over people. He notices your movements and captures your arm before pulling you with him out into the cool night air.

“Oh, my god, there you are! Thank you for finding my sister!” you hear a familiar voice say. The man freezes, his grip tightening on your arm.

“Ouch,” you grumble incoherently.

Your mental state begins to haze.

“Where am I?” you ask quietly and you feel a strong arm go around your shoulders.

“You should let her go,” the voice says dangerously. Hesitantly the man lets go of you and you lean on the man who rescued you. He smells of something familiar, but you can’t put your finger on why.

“Let’s get you home,” he whispers as he places a kiss to the top of your head. You’re sitting in the seat of his car when your eyes close.

“Y/N!” he says a little loud causing you to jerk awake.

“What?” you whine in confusion.

“Stay awake, ok? Keep your eyes open, baby.” His hand goes to your bare thigh. It’s surprisingly warm and his grip not too tight, but firm; secure. A grip that says, I’ve got you.

He pulls up to your apartment building. That’s when you see it.

“Daesung?” you ask as you rub your eye, sleep begging to take over your body. He looks at you, a frown evident on his face.

He gets out of the car, coming to your side, opening the door. You step out, losing your footing. Before you meet the concrete Daesung’s arms catch you.

“You ok?” His hair falls into his eyes a little and you nod, words not forming properly in your mouth.

-

Back in the apartment, Daesung helps you to your room.

“I need to change,” you grumble as he lays you on the bed. Daesung sighs as he opens your closet, noticing a few empty bottles falling out.

He picks one up, examining it.

“Y/n, really? This is,” he sighs once again frustration getting the better of him. He finds an oversized shirt for you to wear and helps you slip out of the skimpy dress. Your body is on display before him, but he does his best not to look out of respect for you. He helps you raise your arms and slips the shirt over your head.

“Thank you, Dae,” you yawn. He helps you get under the covers, your mattress soft and comfy underneath you. He places a kiss to your temple before leaving the bedroom.

Daesung takes a look around, the apartment is a mess. It’s not the worst it could be, but it’s bad enough that he can tell you’re going through it. He had been too, to be fair. But he never expected you to be in this kind of state or this kind of situation.

He grabs a garbage bag, cleaning up the trash in the living room. He moves on to the kitchen, noticing more empty bottles strown around the counter and one on the floor. He cleans up the dishes, wipes down the counters and even mops the floor for you. He’s about to camp out on the couch when you stumble out into the living room.

“What’re you doing out of bed?” he walks up to you and your mouth opens, but no words come out. Your tears are enough though once he see’s them roll down your cheeks.

He hugs you to him, your arms wrapping around his torso, face in the crook of his neck.

“I,” your voice cracks.

“I don’t wanna sleep alone.” Your words are still slurring, but not as bad as before.

“Ok,” is all he whispers before he walks back into the bedroom with you.

-

Daesung holds you close, the whole night, staring at your ceiling. He can’t deny he’s been worried about you. His life hasn’t been the same since the two of you called it quits. You’re sound asleep against him, sleeping off the alcohol and drugs in your system.

His mind takes him back to the last time he saw you before tonight. The way your bodies moved in sync, the way you felt and tasted. The look on your face that was nothing but pure love and adoration until he left you. The way your face turned pale and a frown appeared right before he turned around to walk out of your life. Daesung’s heart aches, a literal pain rising in his chest as he thinks of the hell you’ve endured the last two months.

-

The morning comes, Daesung didn’t sleep a wink. He feels you stir against him and your eyes flutter open, the morning sun shining in brightly into your room.

You hum as your senses are gained, slowly craning your neck upward to see Daesung in your bed.

“Woah, what the hell happened last night?” You sit up immediately, stunned to see your ex in your bed.

“You don’t remember?”

“No, why are you here?” A sudden embarrassment floods you, your cheeks heating up. He seen the state of your apartment, the trash, dishes and empty bottles.

Shit.

“I was at the club last night when I saw you dancing with some guy. I wasn’t going to say anything, but I seen him drag you out and you didn’t seem,” he ponders his words carefully, “in control.”

You nod, a faint memory of the club in your mind, but the man a forgotten one.

“You brought me home?” you ask and he nods. You notice the dark circles under his eyes. The clear look of exhaustion on his face.

“Did you sleep at all?” you ask weakly. Unsure if you wanted the answer.

“Not really, I haven’t been sleeping well the last few months. Turns out I don’t sleep as good without you next me.” He huffs a laugh, but your heart flutters at his words.

“You know if I hadn’t been there, you’d could’ve gotten hurt, or worse.” He begins to scold.

“That’s the first time that’s ever happened,” you go to defend.

“So you’ve been doing this regularly?”

You nod your head sheepishly.

“The drinking, the clubbing, all of it?”

Your head nods again, words foreign to you at the moment as you look down to the side avoiding his gaze.

“Why?” he raises up, a hand cupping your cheek, turning your face to look at him.

“You cope your way, I cope mine,” you shrug. You see that puppy dog sad look on his face.

“Your way has been dangerous.”

“You aren’t here to pick up the pieces if it is, so what does it matter?” Your voice raises more than you mean for it to.

“I’m here now, aren’t I? And it’s a damn good thing I was, because God only knows what would have happened to you! You could have been raped or killed or tortured,” he scolds. You purse your lips and shut your eyes for a moment.

“You weren’t there any other time I spent the night with the guy and I was fine. That was fluke thing.” Your voice remains steady.

“You’ve been with other guys?” he asks, voice quieter than before.

“I tried to be,” you admit, “But never quite the way I was with you,” your voice is now quiet, the silence in the room deafening. Silence settled uncomfortably between you.

“Say something,” you beg.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” You sigh.

“You want me to say I miss you? That life hasn’t been the same since we split, that I dream about you and hearing that you even tried to be with other men hurts? That you’re what I think about when I see a flower growing in the cracks of the sidewalk, or when I see a cloud shaped like an animal you love. That you’re on my mind morning day and night? That I regret leaving you standing there in your door way that night?”

His chest heaves like he’s run a marathon.

Your eyes are wide, Daesung’s confession settling between you. He scoots towards you, putting you between his legs.

“If you want me to say it I will. All that and more,” he whispers as his hands cup your cheeks.

“You scared the shit out of me last night,” he looks between your eyes, surprise and longing being the emotions found.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can whisper before his soft plump lips are attached to yours. Your lips move in sync, as if no time has passed.

“I missed you,” you say between kisses.

“I love you,” he responds against your lips. You melt into his grip. Things develop hot and heavy as Daesung pulls you into his lap.

“I missed you so much,” he says before his lips attach to your neck. Your hands find his hair, fingers curling into his as your mouth falls open.

His hands grip your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. Your hips shift against him, a low growl elicits from his throat.

“Don’t do that,” he chuckles as he pulls away from you. Your brow quirks as you dig your hips in this time harder. He groans, eyes closed.

“Why not?” you feign innocence. Daesung flips the tables, tackling you down onto the mattress.

“Because you’ll start something you can’t finish.” He smirks.

“Try me.” Your smirk as he dips his head down to kiss you again.

Tags: @breakmeoff @sweetpanda18

Please do not repost my work

Love notes, comments and requests are appreciated!

[karaspal]

just wanted to say how much I love your post about brainy in supergirl! I’ve written literal essay-length posts about how I think the show did him dirty and how much potential his and Kara’s friendship/relationship had, and also rewrote all of Supergirl season 2 to have Brainy arrive instead of Mon-El so I’m 100 percent with you there.

thank you very much! :)

your s2 fic is actually one of my favorite cwsg fics. link here

i don't talk about the show a lot on this acc, but i will now use this ask to state some of my opinions that no one really asked for about karadox / kara and querl's romantic partners. it's probably going to be a bit long lol.

(disclamer, but i don't consider s6b as a part of the show. like, at all. i think it's a disgrace and an insult to all the characters/story. for me, the show ends with 6x07. period. nothing after that is canon as far as i'm concerned. i ain't touching it with a 10-foot pole. i just, i don't acknowledge it as part of the story. that shit did NOT happen. so just keep that in mind because when i'm discussing the overall story, for me, the overall story is 1x01 - 6x07.)

since this turned out to be a very long post, i divided it into sections. opinions below the cut. enjoy my bitter ramblings :)

1) querl dox and the wasted potential of his character

ngl my opinions of the show have definitely changed a lot since it ended, but to this day, i still think querl as a character, as well as karadox, are the show's biggest wasted potential. they are literally my second favorite kara ship on the show (with superdey being first and superdreamer third). they had chemestry. their personalities meshed well. they could relate to each other on a deep, personal level. i don't know what happened there. and they didn't even need to have them date each other. a strong friendship would've sufficed. kara and brainy had, like, three scenes with each other each season. and kara is the main lead. shouldn't she have a strong bond with all of her supporting cast??? it's her supporting cast, they are literally there for her. HELLO??? the show truly was scared of their chemistry.

kara has a sense of justice, so does querl. kara is a hero, so is querl. kara knows what it's like to miss your home (krypton), so does querl (the future). kara is a nerd, so is querl. and, they are both cat people. and aliens.

honestly, the show failed querl as a character. maybe it's because i'm a space fam fan, but his character was truly likable only when he was interacting with kara, alex or j'onn. it's probably because he felt like he could be himself the most with them since kara and j'onn are both aliens and alex is cool like that. i really don't like how the show handled brainy in s4 and s5a. he is not a dorky dude??? he is a mean bitch. s3 had that vibe well enough. and him in 6x01 - 6x04? peak querl. he did not care about anything else, but kara. as he should, as he should.

it also really pissed me off how ableist the show was toward querl (as a neurodivergent person myself). they reduced him to a quircky dude, which was both infantilizing and hurtful. most of the time, him being "quircky and funny" was him being anxious or just genuinely not getting social cues (which is neither funny, nor a bad thing. he is still a full-grown capable adult even if sometimes he doesn’t get a social cue. can this show be normal about people with autism geez?). he wasn't trying to be funny. treat him like an adult, not an "adorable boy who just doesn't get it"!!! also, what was that wardrobe? nothing he wore fit. what was that even about? they should've let jesse show his strong arms!!! and what was that hair cut? brainy’s hair in s5b>>>

this is just my personal opinion, but the show not doing a character study on kara through querl's eyes was a missed opportunity. and it's not even a missed opportunity for querl, it's for kara!!! i mean, they kind of did with the quote from 6x02, but i want more. and not just querl, everyone!!! all the supporting cast i like. i want to see kara through their eyes. i'm just a sucker for multiple povs lol.

2) the show's inability to write romance pt.1: karamel

literally anyone on that ship who wasn't mon-el would've been ten times better. i hate that man. he is the worst. and the whole kara / mon-el romance did not work. one bit. he was not a good match for her. kara literally gaslit herself into liking him. up until 2x11, she did not like that man. every time she asked him if he liked her, she looked relived when he told her no. mon-el literally kissed her and she didn’t say anything lol. and she was genuinely upset when she found out he’s working with her because he wanted to date her, not because he wanted to be a decent person. kara rejected him twice. literally went to his job to tell him she doesn't like him. unprompted. that was so funny.

mon-el: so what do you want to drink?

kara: dude, no offense, but ew for having a crush on me. you suck. you are the problem. the way you are is just, eh. just letting you know.

mon-el: :/ … i'll just get my coworker to take your drink order. i’m going to go over there now.

like, mon-el got it the first time lol. kara did not have to go to his work and tell him again (i'm referring to the beginning of 2x11). but also, he had it coming.

i honestly think kara dated him because she felt like everyone was pulling away from her and she was scared to be alone again. i mean, it was during the time she was fighting with her best friends (the bisexual boyfriends winn and james) and her sister was not spending much time with her since she was with her (toxic) girlfriend. on top of that, part of kara's story in the early seasons is unlearning all the bullshit jeremiah and eliza forced her to do so she could "fit in" ("don't be too smart", "make sure not to stand out", "go on dates, find a partner. it's what humans do"). so her abandonment issues, mixed with her belief that you need a partner to fit in and be happy because "that's what humans do", pushed her to mon-el. it also doesn't help alex decided to push the last of her internalized comhet on her sister ("well, mon-el likes you so are you sure you don't like him either?" no. no, she doesn't. this is not slander to alex tho, it's the writers fault. alex is my girl, and i love her very much.)

and, on top of that, technically, for kara, mon-el was the closest thing to a kryptonian. in a way, he reminded her of her home (even if he was the furthest from that). she romanticised him a lot (she said so herself in 3x15). she felt like she could be herself with him, because he was too an alien. but the thing was, mon-el hated his planet and didn’t miss it at all. and for all of krypton’s faults, kara still missed her home a lot. mon-el couldn’t related to her the way kara thought he could.

all these factors - 1) kara’s abandonment issues (because almost everyone was pulling away from her), 2) the belief installed by her adoptive parents that you need a romantic partner to fit in and appear normal (eliza would get upset with her if she didn’t go on enough dates), 3) most of her friends looking genuinely happy in their romantic relationships (happiness kara wanted to experience too and not realising that happiness looks different for different people so she assumed a relationship would make her happy), 4) last of alex’s comphet telling her that maybe she likes him too because he likes her (even if there were no indications and in fact, kara said she didn’t like him and looked disappointed when she found out he did), and 5) mon-el being the “closest” to her home (even if that was far from the truth), resulted in kara reassuring herself mon-el would make her happy and that he is good for her. even though he wasn’t.

i honestly believe that if kara had nia as a friend in s2, she would've never dated mon-el. nia would've taken one look at that annoying man and laughed. and then she and kara would've spent the rest of the season making fun of him lol.

i really love how s3 ended for kara. she finally accepted that she's happy with her life and doesn't need a partner to make her happy. i also think there are a lot of elements in kara's story that are asexual-coded and maybe one day i'll make a whole separate post about it. i mean, forcing yourself to date someone because 1) they like you, 2) almost everyone else around you is in a relationship, and 3) you've been taught dating is the norm, and if you don't, you're weird, is pretty much the standard asexual experience.

it honestly baffles me how much the show messed up mon-el. comics!mon-el would've literally fited perfectly. especially post-infinte crisis one. he was learning how to live life. he was experiencing things for the first time. he respected women. he was a hero and a good man. and he was working as a law enforcer, which would've paired up nicely with kara's journalism story. they could've worked together on cases and such. he could’ve been her source. and he had a british accent. give me british mon!!!

i understand the show wanted someone to "challange" kara and push all her buttons, but mon-el never did that. well, he did annoy her a lot so in a way, he did push all her buttons. but not in the way the show wanted. everything kara thought and said about him, was true. he was a scumbag. he was a horrible person. he was literally the prince of daxam. that man just straight up sucked.

it's also crazy how much mon-el did not understand kara. he literally called her elitist (3x11) when that's the furthest from the truth. someone needed to beat his ass with a catco magazine. that woman is literally a journalist who fights for every voice to be heard! what was he talking about? and one can make the argument that she was "elitist" because she had "prejudice" (very valid opinions) against daxamites. but she literally hated them because they took people away from their families. in what world is that elitism??? is he fr??? bro should've just opened one article written by her. or just listen to what she was saying. like, how am i supposed to root for mon-el when he doesn't understand one of the main things about kara? and compared to will, who called kara's work "art", nia, who hyped kara up and called her intelligent before kara was about to go on stage for a debate, and querl, who has helped her with her articles and called her words maggic, mon-el is nothing. these three people are a perfect fit for kara and understand her well. mon-el? not so much.

another thing he didn't understand was who kara was to her core. and she literally told him. she told him "supergirl is what i can do. kara is who i am." and when they were on argo he told her "now you can be yourself, supergirl." no??? she told him she’s kara and supergirl is what she can do??? did he ever listen to her??? and she literally responded with “not supergirl. kara.”

fuck mon-el. truly the worst. but at least kara realized she doesn't need a partner to be happy, and now she knows what she doesn't want in a relationship. for what it's worth, karamel provided a good character development for her.

also, while i’m here, fuck mon-el’s fans too. you guys suck! karamel shippers who are kara fans and have more ships for her, other than mon-el, this isn’t about you guys!!! cw!mon-el fans are homophobic (to alex), xenophobic (“kara shouldn’t feel at home on earth” / they hate kara danvers. sorry that a refugee finally found happiness again, and a family that loves and respects her in her adopted world i guess? fucking weirdos. kara being kara danvers doesn’t take away from her being kara zor-el too. kara danvers will always be a kryptonian, even if most people don’t know that. and alex danvers will always be kara zor-el’s sister, just as much as kara danvers’ because guess what, kara danvers and kara zod-el are actually synonymous and not two different people.) and have a strange hate for adopted families (by denying how important alex actually is to kara. which is pretty funny because mon-el got divorced because imra chose her sister over him. as would’ve kara, if it ever came to that. maybe mon-el should just choose to date an only child?)

3) the show's inability to write romance pt.2: brainia

honestly, they are nowhere near as bad as karamel. i'm a fan of both nia and querl. i'd definitely say their relationship was just two good people not being compatible.

i did not like how brainia took away so much from nia's story. she is my favorite supergirl character after the spacefam (kara being my fav, and alex and j'onn sharing second place). her story arc in s4 was so good. but then the writers stopped her character development and reduced her to her romantic relationship in s5. and for what? in s5, she was supposed to figure out her powers more, become a better journalist, mourn her mother and get over her guilt for not being able to save her, and come to terms with the fact that izabel would never be able to teach her how to use her powers. yet, none of this happened. why? because they reduced her to brainy's girlfriend. and for what? most of the nia-focused scenes in s5 were brainia focused (minus 5x15). i love brainy, but i'm so upset about this. like, it's not his fault per se, but also, fuck that guy (not really, i’m just joking). his existence (kinda) screwed over nia. ideally, him and nia would’ve never dated, each would’ve had their own story and he would’ve went back home at the end of s5 after actually outsmarting lex instead of whatever the writers did.

and if it wasn't bad enough that they messed with nia's story, they completely butchered her character whenever she was around querl. like, i'm sorry, but she would not tell him he's too much and needs to change when he literally told her that's just how he is. she literally advocates for people to be able to be fully themselves!!! be serious!!! that was so ooc for her. she would've handled brainy "love bombing" her by telling him that it's neither her nor his fault, they should just find a middle ground. and she would've told him that calmly. they would've had an adult conversation about it. it's clear the show used nia to push their ablestic views (because telling a neurdivergent person they are being too much when in reality, they are just being themselves, is wrong) onto brainy and that's fucking awful. she would never say that. how do they not understand her? they literally created her??? it also pissed me off so bad that when kara got sucked into the phazntom zone, nia wasn't worried about her. she was more worried about wanting to make things work with brainy. i promise you, nia loves kara way more that she loves querl. she would've been so worried about her best friend, she wouldn't have given two fucks about that man. and especially since her entire story in s5b was getting over him. why would she want to take his ass back???

and honestly, brainia was just not that good of a relationship. despite them taking all of nia’s story in s5, they were still underdeveloped. most of stuff we know about them were told to us, not shown. in 5x18, nia tells brainy she promised to be there for him when he took of his inhibiters, but that never happened? querl broke up with her the same episode he took them off and she didn’t bother reaching out to him after. of course, she had every right to do that. he was her ex after all and she didn’t owe him anything. but claiming she was there for him when she wasn’t, is not correct. in 5x11 she says her nickname for him was “wild cat”, but she never really used it while they were in a relationship. again, this an example of the show telling, not showing. in 5x19, nia says her and brainy were more than just boyfriend/girlfriend, they were partners. which, again, we saw very little of. like i said, most of their relationship was told, not shown. and this is not how you build a good romantic relationship when telling a story. there’s also the whole erasing nura nal from existence thing lol. and i can’t say i’m the biggest nura fan, but mysa nal is my girl. she doesn’t deserve to be erased like that.

and, look, i’m all for characters having flaws. had the show have nia being a bad girlfriend be presented as a character flaw, i wouldn’t have had a problem. but they acted like she was always right, when most of the time, she wasn’t. i’m talking about when they were in a relationship, nia did have every right to tell brainy to fuck off after he broke up with her. it wasn’t her job to reach out to him in s5b, it was his friends’. i still don’t know why no one checked on him. especially since we know kara, alex and j’onn are actually all close friends with him. and i can kinda understand kara because she is way closer with nia, but alex and j’onn? they are closer to brainy.

and because i have enough time, and this is probably the only time i’m speaking on brainia, i’m actually going to break down nia’s main story/role in every episode she was in in s5 to show you how much this relationship consumed her story:

5x01 - nia works on getting brainy to be more comfortable with physical touch;

5x02 - brainy bombards nia with food and she tells him to knock it down a bit (respectfully);

5x03 - brainy bombards nia with words of affirmation and nia tells him to knock it off and that he is being too much, they break up (?). in this episode, nia also helps j’onn;

5x04 - brainy and nia make up. nia also helps kara;

5x05 - nia stops a big wave (that was actually pretty cool). she also calms down her friend kelly;

5x10 - nia is there to support her boyfriend. they broke up at the end (hooray!);

5x11 - nia is getting over the break up. she has a talk with winn and he tells her to never let anyone make her question her own worth;

5x14 - minor role, but she saves kara so that was pretty cool;

5x15 - the only nia-focused episode. she takes down a violent transphobe. this episode shows us she still holds guilt over what happened to her mother and she’s still struggling with her powers. if only the show explored these two things in the previous 14 episodes. she is also still not over her ex;

5x16 - nia serves cunt during jeremiah’s funeral;

5x18 - kara and nia stop that old dude and when brainy takes him to the deo, they go with him. after the deo’s destruction (which, hooray. i hated the deo), nia has a fight with querl. in this episode, she also has a dream about him;

5x19 - nia is still upset about her break up with querl. she keeps having dreams about him she chooses to ignore. at the end, she finally figures out what they are about. also, her and the super friends fight leviathan;

like i said, brainia takes a majority of nia’s story. if the scene isn’t about her and brainy in some way, it would be about her doing standard superhero stuff or helping her friends. which, don’t get me wrong, is great. i like that they portray nia as a good friend. but these scenes aren’t really about her, they are about her friends. i don’t think it’s all brainia’s fault per se. it’s clear the show just didn’t give her enough screen time. but when all her personal stories this season revolve around her romantic relationship, it’s hard for me not to be annoyed about it. especially since brainy had his own storyline, away from nia. and much more screne time. and i’m not saying he didn’t deserve it. he did. he is a great character. it’s not his fault, it’s the writers’. but when the guy in the relationship has more screen time/an actual, personal storyline and the girl has none of that, i will be upset. you should not be reducing a woman to being a love interest. especially in a feminist show! i just don’t get why the show had to use her limited screen time for this relationship, when they had many more important storylines they had to continue when it came to nia. they literally used most of her screen time for her relationship with brainy and brainy’s screen time for his own story. why not have both of them have separate stories and use some of their screen time for their relationship (since they wanted it so bad)?

brainia not only messed with nia's story, but also butchered her character, and that's so so infuriating. she deserves better. brainia to nia's character is what people belive karamel is to kara's character - a relationship that consumes her story and stops her character development. i don't even hate brainia because i'm a karadox and a superdreamer shipper. they aren't even the endgame ships i have for kara. it's superdey. i dislike brainia because i absolutely love nia and her story, and i think she deserves better. i also think brainy deserved better. at the end of the day, yes, it was ooc for nia to act this way, but she still acted this way and was not a good girlfriend to querl.

as a nia fan, i’m upset how much brainia took from her story/screen time. as a brainy fan, i’m upset how nia treated him while they were in a relationship. this relationship was not good for either of them. the only reason most people claim to like it is because brainy wasn’t dating kara and they don’t really care about nia as her own character.

anways. that's my long ass rant. hope you guys enjoyed. :)

[dykedvonte]

I was rewatching mouthwashing, and I ended up thinking of the different reactions that Curly and Jimmy had in doing their tasks. How during the scene of Anya evaluating Jimmy and showing dread towards the idea of doing his evaluation, Curly was the one that offered to take it off her hands. He had no issue with adding more to his plate, because he knew - or well, thought, he knew that Jimmy wasn't going to "bullshit" with him since he's known him for a long time. When Anya hands Curly a note from Swansea, Curly goes to check out what the issue is and he takes care of it without a complaint, the only "complaint" he has is how this incident could have damaged the pods. Which is reasonable, those pods are their only way to be saved if anything tragic happens on the ship. However, in comparison to Jimmy being asked to do things, he's passive-aggressive about it. When Anya asks Jimmy if he could help her out with Curly's painkillers, he tells her that people should be worth their titles, specifically using her title as a nurse when she asked him for help and then when she says forget it, since he made her feel insecure, he still goes "Oh no, I'LL take care of it" as if he was doing a chore, a favor for her. Then, there's that part where he blows up at her for things that she didn't even ask him to do - more so the others asked him about it, like the code scanner, him deciding he needed to find the axe for the foam, and then, there's the medicine part (which when she does ask, and she reconsiders - going to do it herself, he takes that away from her). Jimmy complains about the tasks he has to do and he treats it like a big issue, a "woes me" that he has to do this and that - wanting the praise of the capital without actually doing any work. While Curly doesn't complain about it, in fact, he even mentions that he's aware of how well he is doing at his job as a Captain during that cockpit scene with him and Jimmy. If Jimmy only had to do a small amount of tasks to get irritated and annoyed at being captain, while Curly didn't which I feel like encapsulates their personalities. Curly understands what he's doing is a job, it's a responsibility, why would he complain at any point for doing what he's suppose too? Why would he be upset at people asking him to do tasks? While Jimmy on the other hand, isn't used to it at all and it's different to what he's had before and he's realizing that he doesn't actually like doing the work he has too. I just wanted to ramble about it even if it seemed kind of obvious xd

It’s obvious but it is a thing people miss or understate when trying to find parallels in Curly’s and Jimmy’s relationship/personalities.

Like the way people portray it as neither taking responsibility when it is almost split down the middle of Curly taking responsibilities and faults that shouldn’t be his and making himself unequipped to handle the ones that are while Jimmy refuses to handle the responsibilities he has because he wasn’t expecting the work that comes with them.

Not a lot to say but people forget that another thing the game comments on is prioritization of issues and responsibilities and how the guys fail at it in one way or another in the situation.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[ronsenburg]

tbh I think dimitri calling sylvain an older brother figure in the jp version of the game says a lot more about dimitri than it does sylvain…

[gobbluthbutagirl]

here are some shows that have 10 to 13-episode seasons: the wire, breaking bad, the sopranos, mad men, better call saul

and here are some shows that have 22-episode seasons: supernatural, glee

now i’m not saying anything. i’m just saying