#what I don’t write

[samandcolbyownme]

hiii! i don't know if my question went through lol because ive been having some problems with that lately. i was just wondering what your wills and won'ts are. will you write dark stuff (non con, dub con, stalker, kidnapping, etc)? pretty much what won't you write? ily and your work!

-🍉

I started to reply and then I totally forgot about it. But i finally got around to finishing it.

I’m going to add a read more label just because there’s going to be some triggering phrases that might not be comfortable for anyone who may stumble upon this.

I’ll come back and update this with anything else I think of, but as of right now this what I will and won’t write about.

I’m a pretty open person, so I don’t really think there isn’t much I wouldn’t be okay to write, but four things I am NOT comfortable writing about and will not write for are

Miscarriages, anything with children (you know what I mean), SA, and self harm.

The non con, I’ve thought about it, and come to figure out that I’m not okay writing non consensual stuff, even if it’s like a role play thing.

The dub con, yes, but it probably wouldn’t be anything drastic, I’d probably write it with a background of sexual tension, reader and other, are super drunk and wanting to do it, but don’t realize it until the next morning that they actually did do it.

As for kidnapping and stalking, after writing Obession, i think that’s the farthest I’d go - if you haven’t read Obsession, I suggest reading it, it’s ghostface inspired.

Basically, I’m not comfortable with it being full blown non-consensual or torture, just because this is my first SnC blog and I want to keep it a clean type of filthy if you know what I mean.

I’m also not at all comfortable writing the adult/child role play. That’s 100% a NO.

I also wanted to throw in that I am 10 years clean from self harm and that is why I will not write about that topic. I haven’t gotten any requests mentioning it, and I don’t think I would, but I just wanted to put it out there because I’ve seen some one shots [not in the SnC fandom] where people have requested that the person of their choice comforts reader struggling with self harm and scars, and although I see the gesture behind it, that’s just not something I would like to write for.

I’m sorry if that made absolutely no sense and/or was all over the place. I tried my best to explain how I feel about writing each specific topic. If there is any other topic I have missed from the anon and if you want my input on anything specific before you request, just send me an anon. I’ll answer and then I’ll update this post!

Just remember, there isn’t anything wrong with sending a request. If I don’t feel comfortable writing it, I’ll just let it sit in my inbox.

And I promise I am not judging because trust me..

We all have our things 😉

I love you guys! Thank you for reading! 🖤

P.s. no one in my life knows I have this blog, so you’re safe with me

[punksdoll]

~~~𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓~~~

𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝐢𝐟… 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐚𝐞𝐥, 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐜, 𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 CLOSED

𝕬𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖒𝖊

𝑽á𝒏

𝑯𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄

𝑩𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍

𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊

𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝒙 𝒈𝒏!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝒙 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖉𝖔𝖓’𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊

𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 (𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅)

𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕

𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕

𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖘

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 1 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝟐

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘

𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔

[pixiemage]

Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.

Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.

RIP decency indeed.

[buggachat]

something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.

But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin

[kangals]

friendly advice from vetmed: I know that when your animal has an infection that is generating a lot of discharge, you want to describe that to the veterinarian, because it’s a concerning sign. that is true. I also know that the most common word for this type of discharge is “pus,” so it’s logical that that’s the word that you’ll use when describing what’s going on. and in English, we often add a “-y” when we’re using a word as a descriptor.

but. the word. the word you are looking for. is purulent.

please stop sending in messages telling the doctor that your dog has a “pussy wound.”

[gigireece16]

“how do you plot / plan your book?” very bold of you to assume i do that.

[st-hedge]

I can’t believe they’d managed to animate kusuriuri’s insane character design and then decided to make it even more insane. The most character ever

[ouchmyghostskin]

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

Begging swifties to understand that Taylor didn’t write reputation and Lover with the knowledge of how the relationship was going to end and that trying to “excavate” those albums for evidence to prove a specific theory as to why it ended is not how they should be viewed. Taylor wrote those songs feeling a very specific way because that’s what she was experiencing and she is now reflecting on them with hindsight and relates to them differently than when she first created them. These conflicting emotions can exist; how she views it now doesn’t diminish how she felt about it when she first released it.

[starry-songs-canvas]

Take Care of Him

The boy, who had Damian’s face, couldn’t be more different than Dick’s (alive?) baby brother.

Aside from his Snow White hair, he smiled and laughed freely, making puns on top of his embarrassing story about his supposed twin brother.  

(“Clones don’t have childhood memories right?  So if I have an embarrassing story or two, that’ll give you a way to check that I’m not a clone AND give you ammunition for teasing!”)

“—And that’s how his face—and his pride—was forever wounded by Sparta the warrior cat!”  Danny finished his story with a flourish, cracking up immediately after.

“Huh, and to think he left it at “training”, obviously he didn’t think anyone would let the cat out of the bag.”  Dick said, laughing even as he eyed the lookalike.

Danny snorted.  “Yeah, I doubt he thought anything as Cat-astropic as that would happen.”

They sat in silence for a moment, overlooking the buildings below, with the Dalv. Co. Labs smoking in the distance and the breeze blowing past the two, yet only seeming to affect Nightwing and not the phantom beside him.

“Is he safe?  Is he happy?” Danny murmurs as he looks up at the stars, looking every bit the forlorn ghost he claimed to be.

“…We keep each other safe.  And I’d say once he got past the stabbing faze, he’s pretty happy in Gotham.”

“But I’m sure it’d make him happy to see you again.”  Dick thought back to the comments the vampire-ghost they’d fought earlier.  It didn’t sound exactly, “happy” or “safe” for Danny.  Or anyone else involved.

Danny shook his head.  “Nah.  He’s… moved on.  And with how crazy my after-life is?  I’m already dealing with ghosts, ghost-hunters, and my—err—that frootloop from earlier.  I do not need to add furries and murder-ninjas to the mix.”

Danny sighed as he floated into a standing position.  “Speaking of which, if you could just, maybe not tell him you saw me?  Better to let dead dogs lie.”

Danny’s piercing Lazarus green eyes looked at Dick and he saw the exact same expression B had on whenever he “had to do it alone”.

“Just, take care of him, Kay?  Or I’ll haunt you to the ends of the universe!”  He said, throwing up a peace sign as he turned invisible.

Dick snorted, “Yeah, sure kid.”

Dick got up and started off toward the bat-plane.  He had a brother to interrogate, and another brother/clone of his brother to find.

[pinetreevillain]

Stray Part 1

I’ve been calling this one “the big one” because THIS BAD BOY 👉👉 is a five parter. It’s also the one that I got into unarmed combat with the most in terms of the color palette, and after a long and bloody battle, it’s made itself out to be my favorite colors so far since the Friends Like These palette. Now i’ve rambled enough about the colors already! Please enjoy :)

<- Confrontation, next

Masterpost

[time-slink]

(my two interests flying around my skull and crashing into each other) wgere am i

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time We Got High And Almost Kissed”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, fluff, frenemies dynamic, use of illegal substances (cannabis)

Word Count: 2.63k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna always finds a way to surprise you, he’s definitely got that going for him. However, that’s not exactly a good thing the vast majority of the time, and today is no exception.

You turn the corner as you come up the stairs and find his bedroom door wide open. He’s hunched over on his bed using his pocket knife to slice open a cheap gas station cigar, spilling the tobacco onto a paper plate. He pulls a small plastic bag out of his back pocket and carefully pinches its contents out, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before sprinkling it inside of the shell of the cigar. His eyes glance over into the hallway and he immediately does a double take after spotting you watching him, for a brief moment he looked like a deer in headlights.

You squint your eyes, your brows furrowing questionably, “Is that weed?”

He lets out a dry scoff, looking back down towards the blunt in his fingers and continuing to fill it up, “Creep.”

“You’re the one with the door wide open!” You exclaim, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

You step into his bedroom, walls littered with posters leaving no clear space in sight; even the ceilings are covered in black tapestries. You crawl onto the foot of his bed, your knees sinking into the red comforter. Sukuna’s hair is disheveled, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in focus, tired eyes narrowed down as he stuffs the flower into the dark brown paper.

“Isn’t that illegal?” You question, a little more snarky than you intended.

“What’re you, a cop?” His crimson eyes shoot a glare up at you, fingers rolling the blunt closed and his pierced tongue licking a stripe up the incision he cut into the wrapper to seal it back shut.

Did he really have to do that without breaking eye contact? He’s gonna be the death of me.

A tiny smirk creeps onto the corner of his lips, “You should try it, could really use something t’ get that stick out your ass.”

You give him an exaggerated eye roll, “I hate you so much, you know that?”

“Yeah yeah, not like y’tell me every day,” A spark flashes in his eyes, his sheepish grin turning more mischievous, “Hey tell you what, split this with me and I’ll show you my spot.”

Your head tilts in confusion, eyeing him up curiously, “Your spot?”

He leans back against the headrest of his bed, shrugging nonchalantly, “Didn’t think I smoked in the house, did you?”

It does never smell like cigarettes in the apartment, or weed, or whatever the hell else he’s smoking. You could smell it on his clothes all the time, but now that you think about it you’ve never actually seen him smoke before.

“You leave the house to smoke?”

“You could call it that, sure.” He hops off the bed, pulling on a pair of black combat boots from his closet and not bothering to tie them. He turns around to face you, looking down at you expectantly, “Gonna join me or not?”

He’s such a bad influence, you’re so aware of that. But you’re also so morbidly curious, and he’s a hard man to say no to, so you cautiously nod your head and stand up from his bed.

“Knew you had it in you.” He smirks, placing the blunt between his lips to hold it in place and snatching a disposable lighter off his nightstand, stuffing it into his pocket.

Sukuna walks across his room to the window, his back facing the glass as he slides it open behind him, and then leaning back to stick his torso outside. His strong tattooed arms reach up over his head as he grabs the edge of the roof and lifts his legs into a crouch, promptly pulling his whole body out the window, doing one hell of a pull up to lift himself up onto the roof in one fluid motion.

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. There’s no fucking way he’s seriously expecting you to be able to do that.

You see strands of his pink hair first as he pops his head upside down to peer down into the window, reaching his arm inside and outstretching his open palm to you, “C’mon, you won’t fall.” He pauses for a moment, flashing you a mischievous grin, “… Probably.”

You give him a weary and unconfident smile, “How reassuring.”

Taking tentative steps towards the window, you see his grin grow wider. You gently place your hand in his palm and he doesn’t waste a second, wrapping his fingers around your knuckles and squeezing tight, yanking his arm towards him to pull you closer. For just a mere second, the two of you were eye level as he hung his head upside down, your surprised eyes locking with his confident ones and his breathy laughter ghosting onto your forehead.

But just as quickly, his head dipped out of view. His low voice calls down to you from the roof as his impatient hand pulls you closer, “Put your foot up on the windowsill.”

You tentatively place your foot on the ledge, squeezing his hand tight to steady yourself as you shift your weight onto your other leg and pull yourself up to stand on the windowsill. His free hand quickly wraps under your arm, pulling you up and towards him, his arms wrapping tightly around your chest and waist as he pulls you into his lap with your back flush against him.

He leans his chin down on your shoulder, his breath fanning the side of your neck as he sarcastically whispers, “Almost dropped you there.”

A deep blush paints your face red. His legs are spread with your own planted in between them, his arms wrapped protectively around you and squeezing your body against his chest as he keeps you locked in place directly on his lap. You squirm under his hold and it only makes his breathy chuckle tickle your skin, his lips just barely brushing against your neck.

He loosens his hold on you for only a moment to pick the blunt off of the shingles, placing it between your lips while mumbling “Hold this” before his arms are tight around you again. He plants his feet against the roof and slides backwards, shimmying you both up to a flat section to sit more comfortably.

As he releases you from his grasp, you’re reluctant to leave. Lifting your hips from their home on his lap, you plop down onto the flat section of the roof next to him. He wasn’t kidding about this being his spot, there’s already an ashtray up here with cigarette butts sprinkled in the bowl. And you can’t really blame him for coming up here, the sky is orange and pink with clouds stretching thinly across the horizon, the city’s silhouette faintly in the distance, tall trees forming a barrier around the back of the apartment that feels safe and protected, it’s honestly really nice, peaceful.

Sukuna pulls his lighter out of his pocket, sparks sprinkling with each flick of the wheel until it holds a steady flame. He leans in close, holding the light against the end of the blunt that you held between your teeth.

“Breathe in.” His gaze is dropped to your lips, free hand reaching up to gently hold the blunt steady against your mouth with his thumb and forefinger.

As you inhale you see orange embers form at the end of the blunt, smoke rapidly filling your lungs and stinging the back of your throat. You can’t keep the smoke down, immediately hacking up a painful burning cough that only makes him snicker.

“Hm, you’ll get it eventually.” He brings the blunt to his lips and inhales a long hit, holding his breath for a few seconds before teasingly blowing the smoke into your face.

“Ugh,” You fan your hand in front of your face to clear the smoke, “That’s terrible. It tastes so gross.”

He smirks and rolls his eyes, flicking the ash into the small tray, “So dramatic, ‘ts not that bad.”

Your eyes are glued to his fingers, holding the blunt with his pointer finger and thumb and tapping ash away with his middle, the veins on the back of his hand gently protruding out and then settling back into place with each tap of his finger. As your eyes drift to the ashtray and you realize that there are only orange cigarette butts in the bowl, no snuffed out roaches from him smoking anything else.

You pull your knees up to your chest, tilting your head to rest your cheek on your legs when you look up at him, “How come you’re getting high?”

“Needed it tonight.” His answer was quicker than you expected, his eyes locked on the city lights shining in the distance.

“How come?”

His head doesn’t move, but his eyes flick to you. Wordlessly he holds the blunt towards you, the expectant look in his eyes and quirk in his brow telling you that he’s not planning to give you an answer until you take another hit.

You let out a small huff, taking the blunt from his fingers and taking a short drag, trying to hold the smoke in your lungs and keeping your lips sealed shut to try not to cough. Your attempt was futile though, your cheeks puffing out and smoke blowing out of your nose as your throat burned again.

He let out a small snicker at your misery, letting one of his legs lay outstretched across the slant of the roof while he bent his knee on his other leg to rest his chin on, “Brat’s working his first day at his new job tonight.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, your lips dragging down into a frown, “Brat being… who?”

He scoffs, like the answer to that should be so obvious, “My brother, the one you met.”

You hum in acknowledgment, but you’re still confused what that has to do with Sukuna wanting to get high, “What’s the new job?”

He blows a raspberry, tilting his head up towards the sky while he takes another drag, smoke echoing off his lips as he speaks, “Firefighter, been his dream job since we were kids.”

Realization clicks in your brain, making a smile creep onto your lips, “You big softie, you’re worried about him!”

“Tch.” He glares down at you, but his frustrated look only makes you giggle. The look in his eyes quickly softens, shifting to a look of amusement as he leans in closer to you and peers into your eyes. You let out a little laugh, opening your eyes wide to stare goofily at him and causing a smile to crack on his face, “Are you high already?”

“No!” You counter defensively, “You’re just… cute.”

Oh fuck, I’m totally high.

He gives you a lopsided grin, “You’re a terrible fuckin’ liar.”

You giggle and flop onto your back, lying flat on the roof, “Stop changing the topic! We’re talking about you!” You reach your arm out to point in his face, “You’re worried about him! You love him!”

“Ugh,” He gives you an exaggerated eye roll, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and pulling it down out of his face, “I absolutely do not.”

You give him a toothy smile, poorly mimicking his deep voice, “Terrible fuckin’ liar.”

A deep laugh bubbles up from his chest, his gravelly voice sounding so breathy and happy, creases forming at the outer corners of his tired eyes. He releases your wrist from his grasp, planting his open palm next to your head and resting his weight on his arm to lean the slightest bit closer to you, his free hand bringing the blunt up to his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you with an uncharacteristically sweet smile, “So stupid.”

You can’t help but giggle under his gaze, the warm orange glow of the sunset reflecting in his heavy lidded eyes, a thin ring of crimson around his blown out pupils. His lips wrapping around the dwindling blunt and taking a long hit as the embers come alight. He leans down and gently blows the smoke into your face, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

He gently knocks his knuckle against your cheek to get you to open your eyes, gesturing the blunt to you, “Give me one more.”

You let out an over dramatic groan, covering your face with your hands, “No I’ll choke! I need you to baby bird it to me.”

He quirks his brow, a mischievous smirk curling on the corners of his lips, “Baby bird? Like spit it in your mouth?” He lets out a small chuckle. You part your hands away from your face to peer up at him as he takes another drag, holding the smoke in his mouth as he cups your chin to tilt your head towards him and leans down close to your face, smoke on his breath fanning your lips as he whispers, “Like this?”

Your mouth opens slightly in surprise as his lips are mere millimeters away from yours, gently exhaling smoke into your parted lips. Your cheeks burn red and your wide eyes stare up into his lazily lidded ones, already trained on you. You slowly breathe in the smoke, feeling him lean closer towards you, his gaze dropping down as his lips just barely brush against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, heart pounding in your chest as you feel his fingers trace their way from your chin along your jaw, tilting your head slightly to perfectly slot your lips with his-

But the moment abruptly comes to a halt as Sukuna’s phone loudly rings in his pocket, the ring tone blaring “I like big butts and I cannot lie!” as he freezes in place and both of your eyes shoot open.

“Pfft!” You throw your head back in laughter, your chin clocking Sukuna in the jaw as he shoots up straight and mutters curses under his breath, frantically fumbling for his phone in his pocket.

The obnoxious music quickly stops as he answers the phone, rubbing the sore spot on his jaw as he spoke with a hint of panic in his voice, “Yuuji?”

Even though he wasn’t on speaker phone, you could hear Yuuji loud and clear, emphasis on loud as Sukuna flinched the phone away from his ear as Yuuji yelled out the small speakers, “Guess who saved a cat at work today!”

You could see a look of relief wash over Sukuna’s face, but he didn’t let it translate into his voice, speaking in a low and annoyed tone, “I was hoping you’d die in a fire.”

Yuuji belted out a loud laugh on the other line, “Not yet! But don’t take it off your bingo card!”

A wide smile spreads across your face, yelling loud enough for Yuuji to hear, “You had him worried sic- mmph!”

Sukuna shoved his palm over your mouth, shooting a glare down at you as he spoke to Yuuji, “Ignore them.”

You tried to bite his hand over your mouth and he whispered “Fucking brat” down to you as Yuuji rambled about his first day at work, something about a cat being stuck in a tree and how he thought that was a myth but it’s totally a real thing. It quickly became clear that the moment between you and Sukuna had fizzled out, but he was probably just teasing you anyway right? It definitely meant nothing, surely. If Yuuji hadn’t called he would have just backed away and laughed at you or something.

He wasn’t actually gonna kiss you… right?

A/N: DONT KILL ME WE’LL GET THERE EVENTUALLY!! Anyway y’all like Yuuji’s ring tone I thought it suited him askakaka Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[virgobingo]

more insight on miles’ puerto rican heritage for your fics or fanart

- traditional quinceañeras (or as they are often called by puerto ricans quinceañeros) are really not that common anymore, most girls nowadays have pool parties or go on a cruise. if miles were to go to one of his cousins’ 15 birthday party, chances are it would be casual— no big poofy dress (his mom probably had one like that though)

edit: some people disagree on this. depends on how traditional your family and friend group is I guess, as well as which part of the island you’re from. on average, it seems to be a far bigger deal amongst some other latines. in my class in pr only 3 out of approx 30 girls had a big event like that. not a single one of my cousins had a traditional quince either so you could say I’m partly biased bc of my own experiences. i personally just had a big pool party

- plantains are a big part of our diet. also, pr being an island in the caribbean, coconut is in a lot of our desserts. if miles had to pick a favorite fruit I hc he’d pick either one of the two lol also please google our food, our food isn’t actually spicy so much as savory

- we “celebrate” thanksgiving like other americans. it’s about the only time we eat oven roasted turkey. for winter holidays (christmas eve/day, new years eve/day, three kings day/eve) oven roasted pork. chicken might be offered as a second option for people who don’t consume pork for whatever reason

- you’re pretty much taught how to dance as soon as you can walk. most of us have basic rhythms down. chances of miles dancing with his mom or friends at parties? astronomically high.

- the reason why our flag is everywhere, besides pride, is ‘cause it was illegal to own it. look up the gag law that prohibited us from even displaying it at our homes. so it’s actually an awesome detail in these movies

- this is my opinion/a fun fact but I feel like miles is basically an homage to black and puerto rican (specifically nuyorican) solidarity around the 70s-80s during the creation of hip-hop and rise of graffiti as a form of expression (you can easily read up on this or watch shows like the get down to learn more about this if you’re curious)

- whether you’re “nuyorican” or “from the island” spanglish is common so miles’ mixing english and spanish isn’t odd bc even rio does this as miles points out in the party scene. he isn’t a “no sabo” kid so much as someone with a strong accent. he understands his mom perfectly

- race ≠ ethnicity. there are plenty of black people in and from Puerto Rico, and miles’ pr family in the spiderverse films are designed to be for the most part afro-latine. so I wouldn’t really call him biracial

- the puerto rican day parade wouldn’t be a thing he skips, he’s gifted a special suit for it in a comic run. his puerto rican heritage is important to him!

[karalovesallthegirls]

Also have another “first words spoken to you are on your skin” soulmate AU idea where Kara is a journalist assigned to shadow the controversial CEO of L-Corp for the day. It’s a big deal for her to get this assignment, so of course she trips the second she’s near the other woman and tries awkwardly to redeem herself.

The CEO stares at her almost in shock, and then says nothing. At all. Ever, for the entire day.

Kara spends hours following Lena Luthor around trying to fill the silence, but no amount of questions get her to talk. Lena almost seems to be running away at some points - like she’s trying to lose her? - and the few times she’s managed to catch her actually talking to someone she goes silent the second she sees Kara.

She asks around if Miss Luthor is usually like this and everyone looks at her like she’s crazy. Apparently she’s the only one who gets the silent treatment. By the end of her first day shadowing she’s walking away with half a page of observations and not a single quote. Miss Grant is going to kill her.

But that’s okay. It’s fine, this isn’t over. She has four days of shadowing ahead of her and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t finish this with a quote from the woman herself. It’s only a matter of time.

[stil-lindigo]

I have so many thoughts about how, in a world where so many in-game companions are barely tolerated or even outright hated, kim kitsuragi is universally beloved. How much it speaks to us that in our worse moments, we all hope to deserve the begrudging kindness he provides. He will not coddle you. He will tell you to get your shit together. But he will support you when you sing karaoke, off-key and mournful. He will play a board game with you in the middle of a murder investigation. He may dance with you inside a church. And in the end, when you leave this waking dream of an investigation to face the smoking wreckage of your life, he might go with you.