#would die (positive) if saw someone wearing these in person

[theglassdragoncollective]

[ID: Tweet by @claywaterlily that reads, “i cannot wait to make more charcuterie earrings!!” followed by a picture of two large circular earrings, with a broad left outer side of crackers, beside a mixed pile of cheese cubes, then a small branch of grapes, then two groups of tightly rolled meat standing up, with golden hooks. End ID]

girls don't want gold earrings as presents they want charcuterie board earrings instead

[wtfaniii]

Sweet But Psycho

Summary: You are only nineteen years old but life has made you intelligent, life and your father.

Warning: slight smut, innuendo, blood and a somewhat toxic relationship, I haven't checked this yet so sorry for any spelling mistakes

The salesman x fem reader ¡!front man's daughter

A sigh escaped your lips as the handsome black-haired man in a suit pushed you onto the bed and positioned himself on top of you.

—You don't know how much I've been waiting for this —You said with a wide smile taking the man's face to pull him towards you and kiss him with need.

—I know —he replied arrogantly as he caressed your body torturously slow.

From the first time you saw this man at a meeting he had with your father, you knew you had to at least kiss him.

There was something about his personality that made him so attractive besides his physique, maybe it was that arrogant and mocking smile that he sometimes formed or that contemptuous look that he gave to everyone.

A gasp escaped your lips as he managed to strip of your clothes, however, you didn't want him to have all the power.

Being who you were, you didn't like to give up control, you were above him and you made that clear when skillfully turned around on the bed to make him lie beneath you.

—Well well... someone is having a hard time adapting to other roles —He mocked, tightening his hands on your hips, sure to leave a mark.

—I prefer to be on top and keep the pace —You said flirtatious.

You lowered your hands to him pants but just as your fingers reached for him belt buckle the door to room suddenly opened.

Your heart raced, and not in the way you would have wanted, when you saw your father open the door and make an expression of annoyance and embarrassment at the scene before him.

—Hi... —The two greeted at the same time, you with a nervous smile and he with a mocking expression.

Sure, your dear boyfriend was more than proud to fuck his boss's daughter.

—Both have five minutes to get dressed and get out of here, or I'll have to find a new recruiter for this afternoon —The front man warned and then closed the door again with a thud.

The man below you would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of your father, the front man was far above him and although it fed his ego the idea of ​​having you in the palm of his hand he still wasn't willing to risk having a bullet in his head embedded by him.

—You heard him, sweetie —He sighed, gently pushing you away from him to get out of bed.

—Coward —You told him mockingly as you stood up.

You liked to provoke him, to make him angry so that the tension between you would be even greater, but in this case it wasn't like that, he wasn't ready to die.

—What I want to do to you will take me more than five minutes, love —He justified himself while adjusting his tie.

You sighed and both of got dressed again, when you saw yourself presentable you opened the door and right there was In-ho, with a look that would freeze anyone.

In-ho was against this relationship, the salesman was almost twenty-five years older than you, and he knew the kind of man he was, he didn't want him with you but seeing you so enthusiastic about him made him silence all his complaints.

He haven't seen you this happy since your mother died.

Life had treated you badly, your mother fell ill and died, your father was fired and left you with your grandmother for five months until he came back for you and brought you to this island.

At first you didn't want to be a part of this but you didn't want to leave your father alone in this duel either, you were also having a bad time and before you knew it you were already wearing a pink suit, a gun and a black mask with a quadrate printed on the front.

Before long you became addicted to this new life, In-ho almost instantly regretted having taken you there with him because he didn't take into account your vulnerable state of mind you were in, you became a completely different person and he regretted it every day.

—You have to get back to work —he said to the man in the suit, who nodded, bowed slightly, and left almost instantly —And you-

You quickly interrupted him with a wide smile.

—¿Can I go with him?

—No.

—¡Oh come on! I've been on this fucking island since I was twelve! —Your irritated screams didn't bother him at all, he was already used to it —I need to see ¡civilization! —You yelled at him furiously one last time as he walked calmly to the control room.

Even if he didn't let you go, you would run away anyway, he knew it, he had no way to control you without causing you harm because he would also easily tell all his guards to subdue you so couldn't leave here but he didn't want to go to those extremes with you, he still loved you with all his soul, you were the only bit of humanity and of his old life that he had left.

So he just grabbed his cell phone and called your sadistic boyfriend.

"She will go with you to the city, take care of her, if something happens to her you will return for your farewell"

The man at the phone cursed mentally, he knew that being fired was also synonymous with certain death, but he refrained from contradicting the frontman.

—Understood, sir.

He hung up the phone and leaned back in the boat seat where after a few minutes he saw you arrive with your characteristic smile and shiny teeth.

—¿Would you like this to be a casual date? —You asked, sitting next to him.

—I'd rather not, for now it's just business.

He didn't want to mix work with his private life but he didn't refuse every time you stole a kiss from him.

You alone accompanied him to every part of the city he went to recruit more trash to entertain your guests, you found it fun and even helped him with some objectives, however you always made sure that no one who had met you before saw you.

Although deep down you wanted to go to your grandmother's house, see your uncle Jun-ho and give them a hug but your father was very specific about those ideas, you don't have to do that, for them you no longer existed.

—¿Are you okay? —Your boyfriend asked cautiously.

He found it curious to see you pensive, silent and even depressed in a period of only ten minutes. He knew you to be quite extroverted and even impulsive, seeing this side of you sparked his interest.

—Yeah... we just have to recruit this last one and that's it, ¿right?

He raised an eyebrow but decided to ignore it for now and both continued walking through the train station.

—Yes, this is a famous ex-youtuber who lost and owes a lot of money, it will be the last one and we will go buy some things.

You nodded silently and when they found the target you stood a few steps away watching them play Ddakji, a malicious smile appeared on your lips every time he slapped the young man.

When he finally gave he the card you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards you to give a kiss on the cheek.

—¿What did I tell you about public displays of affection? —He said pretending to be upset but he just couldn't, sometimes you were hateful and annoying but it didn't matter, he could get used to that.

—If you complain I will do it more often —You threatened him playfully as you continued walking.

But you felt some glances on the two of you, on some occasions you looked surreptitiously and could confirm that two men were following you.

—Dissimulate, after shopping we will take the gentlemen to a more private place —He whispered in your ear and you nodded silently.

You thought that would be more fun than making homeless people choose between bread and a scratch card, you thought it was funny and a joke how people could be ambitious, they could have eaten that day but they preferred to gamble with luck.

—Idiots —You whispered rolling your eyes.

After done him little social experiment, you and the salesman hopped in a cab and headed away from civilization hoping those two men would still be following you.

They were very predictable and once got the chance you let your boyfriend beat those two until they were unconscious and badly injured.

—Nice way to release tension

He winked at you and straightened his jacket and tie.

[...]

—That's the man who's been looking for us for the last three years —He said as he looked indifferently at the man who was searching around in anguish.

You and him were on the roof of an abandoned building, still in the same alley where you kidnapped the other two who apparently worked for this man.

—A headache for your father —He said seriously.

—¿Should I shoot him? —When he turned to look at you, you already had the gun ready and pointing it at the head of the man who was still floors below you.

He shook his head and put his hand on your arm to get you to lower the gun.

—Not yet, I want to know what he wants, for now... ¿Would you like to go on a date with me and the two gentlemen we have tied up down there?

You smiled again and gave a small bow as he took your hand.

You were cruel, and he loved that about you, so he could share moments like this with you.

The poor screams and stifled pleas of these two men brought smiles to your boyfriend and to you, the adrenaline of the moment and the power over the lives of others made your body tingle, made you nauseous and at the same time made your heart race like crazy.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus one" was music to your ears and you couldn't help but jump slightly every time the man next to you pulled the trigger.

You loved every part of this man, yes, he was a sadist but he looked so attractive every time he acted this way that it made you wet.

—¿Can I play? —You asked with a fake pout as you rested your chin on him shoulder.

—Your father won't like that.

—¿And? ¿You're his dog to do whatever he says?

He tightened his lips and the attention of the two gagged and bound men fell on you with their eyes wide at what you had just said.

You liked to tease him but this time you did it at a less appropriate time.

—Repeat what you said —He said in a low, threatening voice.

—Awww... ¿did I hit a nerve? ¿You don't like people calling you... ¿dog?

In the blink of an eye he grabbed you by the neck and lifted you a few inches off the ground, the tips of your feet barely touching the surface.

—The frontman forbade me to kill you but... now I can say that one of these two men killed you inadvertently.

You gasped as the air began to catch in your neck, him firm grip excited you as much as it terrified you.

—Go ahead... —You spoke with little air —Prove that you are not his dog

He wanted so much to fuck you like that and kill you right now, you were desperate but also beautiful and he wasn't going to deny it, you had taken over his head and part of his heart.

He let go of you and you barely managed to stay standing, you gasped for air and when you looked up you saw the tip of the gun pointed directly at the face.

You laughed amusedly.

—Ouh... Looks like I really got on your nerves this time.

—Just apologize —He said seriously and with a sly smile —Come on, do it so we can finish this.

—And if not, ¿what? —You took a step forward to let the cold metal of the weapon touch your lips.

—Just do it, I don't want to break that pretty face of yours.

Once again you smiled and opened your mouth to allow the tip of the gun to enter.

With your eyes you asked him to pull the trigger.

He could have shot, he could have still told your father that one of those two killed you and gotten away with it, but he didn't.

Even with that cold, carefree look you kept on your face, he knew you were still a girl who had lost everything and hated her life, a poor girl who had formed that personality to pretend.

He knew it because you were just like him.

And he wasn't wrong, you really would have liked him to kill you right then and there but he took the gun from your mouth and shot one of the two men in the side of the head causing the other to gasp.

—Coward —You told him sternly and disappointed.

After that tense moment you remained silent until night fell, he asked you to return to the island but you didn't, you decided to follow him because you knew he would go see that man who caused so many problems, you deduced why he let one of those two strangers live to interrogate him.

You kept an appropriate distance, luckily for you the motel where him went to see that man was full of windows so you were like a sniper from the roof of another nearby building.

This time you accepted that you weren't doing it out of curiosity or personal benefit, you were doing it because cared about him.

You saw them talking and playing Russian roulette, it was him favorite game but this time it made you goosebumps on end for some strange reason.

You counted each empty shot and when you saw that there was only one left and it was your boyfriend's turn, your heart skipped a beat.

—If you do this, I'll kill you —you warned the air while keeping your hand on the gun, you were definitely going to intervene.

You saw that the man said something to your boyfriend, something that caused him to point the gun at himself to shoot himself one last time, but before doing so, you shot him hand.

The salesman groaned in pain and screamed, dropping the gun when he saw the hole in his hand.

—¡Damn bitch! —He shouted, turning his head towards the window where he saw you in the other building waving at him with a hand and a smile —¡¡¡You're seriously a fucking bitch!!!

You mouthed "I know" and blew him a kiss before running off to get him.

—¡¿What was that?! —Gi-hun said, taking the gun with the remaining bullet from the ground and looking towards the window, now there was no one.

—My fucking girlfriend —He muttered, looking at his bloody hand.

The door to the room suddenly opened and Jun-ho appeared with his gun raised so Gi-hun raised his gun as well.

—Police, ¡put hands up! —He demanded, looking at them randomly an the two raised their hands instinctively.

—Hi... ¿am I interrupting something? —You said entering the room with biggest gun that brought with you.

Until your gaze fell on the policeman, you cursed at the sight of your uncle.

He was just as surprised as you, he knew In-ho was behind all this but he didn't expect you to be too.

—It seems I have the advantage here so why don't you guys put down your weapons and we can talk like civilized people ¿does that sound okay? —You said with a closed-lip smile but your eyes remained fixed on Jun-ho.

—¡I just want him to take me to his owner! —Gi-hun demanded, pointing at your man in the seat, who was bandaging his hand with a handkerchief.

—I am him owner —You said arrogantly —I'm sorry, honey —apologized to him without lowering your gun or your defensive stance.

—Liar, you enjoyed doing it —He said through clenched teeth and annoying.

You winked and turned your attention back to your uncle but before could say another word you felt a strong blow to the head that knocked you unconscious.

—¡That bitch is crazy! —shouted the man they had previously tortured, still tied by the ankles and half naked, he had hit you with a fire extinguisher —¡She and his deranged boyfriend killed my friend! —He added, pointing at the black-haired man in a suit.

—¿Boyfriend? —Jun-ho asked quietly as he approached you to make sure you still had a pulse.

—I'm dead —the salesman murmured as he watched you lying unconscious on the floor.

If they didn't kill him, your father would.

[huboi]

“it wasn’t your fault”

[muzan kibutusuji, kokushibo and akaza x gn! reader]

╰┈➤ includes; mentions of r*pe, self loathing, death (not reader), please note this is a triggering topic so readers’ discretion is advised

╰┈➤ extras; this was a request, sadly I can’t tag them cause tumblrs’ being a bitch about it so I just hope that the requester comes across this

╰┈➤ a/n; it’s important to note I haven’t dealt with anything like this personally, so apologies if this doesn’t seem realistic or is badly done, I will try my damndest to be as respectful as possible with this fic

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

muzan kibutusuji

yes, he’s a demon, not just any demon but the king of demons, which certainly means he cares for no one, especially not a human of all things right?

wrong

muzan originally planned on turning you, when something in his dead heart jumped for joy at the sight of your face, he just couldn’t turn you

and so he protected you when needed and eventually you ended up dating

one thing he noticed is that whenever he goes to touch or kiss you etc. you seem to back off or hesitate, you believe he doesn’t notice but he does

he’s also noticed you tend to cover your body 24/7 with baggy clothing and never wear short sleeved shirts or shorts

when he confronted you about it, you just burst into tears, thinking he would dump you or blame you for what they did to your body

with a comforting embrace, and some time to mull it over, you decided to tell him what happened

muzan was furious to say the least, not at you, never, he was furious at the disgusting person who dared to lay their filthy hands on you without your consent

he gives you little kisses on your face (with consent of course) and hugs you close whilst assuring you “it’s not your fault”

later on when he was sure you were fast asleep, he took care of a certain someone

safe to say that that person will never touch you again

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

kokushibo

it’s pretty obvious he’s a demon

so as soon as you guys crossed paths, you could tell he wasn’t human by his face alone

at first you were worried he was gonna hurt you, but he simply shrugged and explained how he doesn’t bother killing people unless necessary

somehow you guys ended up in a relationship and bam!

you’re one of the most protected people in Japan

kokushibos’ weary eyes couldn’t help but notice your hesitancy towards his intimate advances, no matter how simple

he could also tell you held some sort of self hatred towards yourself, as he had been in your position hundreds of years ago

he brings it up one afternoon, explaining how he wants to make sure you’re both comfortable in the relationship

you hesitantly give him the answer, expecting for him to kill you on the spot

only for the usually stoic demon to wrap you into a tight hug, arms trembling and face contorted in anger

“it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong” he seethed, before asking if you remember what they look like

after giving him a brief description of them he was off in a flash, seemingly teleporting to god knows where

the person trembled, cowering into a corner begging for their life to be spared, kokushibo simply unsheathing his sword and landing cuts all over them so they can bleed out slowly and die from the blood loss

when coming back from his deeds, kokushibo saw you in bed wrapped up in the blanket, he simply climbed in after you and hugged you from behind

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

akaza

definitely the most angry out of all three demons

he will hunt everywhere for this person and won’t take a break until he finds them and breaks them himself

when he does come across this ‘human’, he will personally punch them so that they die from a slow painful death

when coming back to you, akaza will simply be there for you throughout the healing process/trauma

he hates how the monster caused you so much trauma

akaza is always there for you if you want to vent or talk about your feelings

if anything like that ever happens again, tell him, he’ll be there for you and will also personally deal with the monster that did this to you

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

© content belongs to @huboi, please refrain from republishing on any other platforms! I don’t own the characters in this story

[brights-place]

Slenderman is Goddess! Spouse

Pairings: Slenderman X la Muerte! Reader

Warnings: Murder, Gore, Supernatural, Fluff, Angst, Cussing

A/N: Okay so I had this idea slenderman dating an godess of life for example like La muerte who I think is SO FUCKING HOT! she is amazing and Slenderman dating someone like her would be so fun to write!

- When the creepypasta members saw you they first thought you were an intruder you were human - before they attacked you slenderman appeared right infront of you bending himself down to face you properly "(Name)" "Slender" You said smiling softly to him as you both disappeared once he gave you his hand - When you both are alone he picks you up like you are a teddy bear and makes you lay your head on his chest as you chuckle - You and Slender kept your relationship an secret until Jeff entered the office to hand over his report but walked in on you kissing Slender is cheek - As his spouse he makes sure to take care of you - he keeps his scary and tough demeanor but around you? he just tries his bets for you not to show PDA in public he had to keep his scary demeanor! - Due to Slender Man's history being completely unknown it is hard to determine just what he is thinking, although he is commonly seen as a cruel, sadistic, manipulative, predatory, misanthropic demon. It is entirely unknown if Slender Man actually cares for his proxies' safety, or if he's just using them in order to get what he wants, showing his controlling and tyrannical personality - Yet... he married you !! an Human? a basic human who... who didn't even he was just so CONFUSED! well he thought you were Human... - You were gonna be his victim, you were going to die in his hands yet he didn't even do that he just stared at you - He was confused on how everything around you bloomed and became more colorful showing life - You two were the opposites of eachother Slender Man is a mystery. He looks like a human being, but doesn’t act like one. It is uncertain if he is a social creature, understands human languages or behaviors, or even why humans appear to be his primary targets while you were a 'human' who was positive and shown to be a largely kind and loving woman, showing a deeply caring and welcoming attitude to almost everyone you have meet. You were free-spirited and festive. It is believed that the kindness and love of mortal-kind stem from your own - He loves to slow dance with you but he always has to bend down when you were in your Human form of course - He found it peculiar when flower petals always walked behind you - When slender cut Rogue by accident cause she was in the way when he was throwing Wilson the basher against the wall for failing his mission - Slender never told any of his useless proxies or the lower Creepypasta's knew about you but when you appeared from thin air staring at Slenderman who dropped Wilson and the other proxies who failed the missions down quickly turning his ehad towards you the dark appearance and shadowy places that where showing disappeared as he felt his blood drain - You satred at him eye twitching as your fists balled as your human form turned to you true godess form as you shouted loudly "SLENDER!" Slender spoke quickly "My love-" - He watched as you scolded him but he couldn't help but admire your appearance

- Despite both of you being as old and ancient as time itself,you kept youe vision of youth and radiant beauty as you were made entirely of white sugar candy with knee-length H/c licorice hair that is tied in a low ponytail with bangs split on either side and multi-colored glowing eyes with aqua eyeshadow that are in shades of gold and red. While your red dress decorated with cempasuchil (Mexican marigold flowers) all over and marigold flowers with lit white wax candles at the hem of your dress. You also wear an extremely large, wide-brimmed sombrero bedecked with more lit candles and marigolds, small skulls, pink-plumed, curly, swirly feathers and palm leaves. Also wearing a circular gold locket on a choker that he had given you - The proxies were smirking happily being protected by the goddess of life - He makes sure on November second that he comes with you cause you say its the most special day to you which was the day of the dead - You both Slow dance together listening to Classical music -  Though you two have a complicated relationship with due to your different beliefs and the completely different, opposite antagonistic lands and realms you both ruled. - As your husband he does his best to make time for you - When he is out "working" in his words he is just getting victims while you on the other hand would scold him but knew it was his only way of well eating - You knew that Slender wins over the confidence of children but adults are repulsed by fear. - He chooses children because he can take longer to nurture their fear, stalking them for years before attacking them as adults. - He brainwashes children, using them to further his own (unspecified) ends as Proxies. Children are simply easier for him to hunt and eat - You spend time with the younger Creepypasta's and make sure that they are patched up - The other creepypasta's were weary of you and still are - But DAMN! you knew how to cook some good food - If the creepypastas are close to the brink of death they literally scream in their heads for slender to get them or have backup which slender does... sometimes - But if they shout your name at all within any space giving life well Poof your their in an second taking them and scolding them for almost getting caught - Slender makes sure to try maintain his anger issues but he does lash out of the Proxies if they do anything wrong - When you two argue about the creepypastas you speak up "Anyone can die. These kids, they will have the courage to live and fight" you said as slender argued back to you "They are adults My love" "Yes but what has happened to them they were only mere children! well some of them!" You said back as slender groaned in annoyance pinching the bridge of where his nose would be... if he even had one

- Yes you two have different perspectives on humankind for example you believe that humankind is completely good, true and pure while Slender thinks and believes that humankind is selfish, greedy, sinful and concerned only in its own interest on the other hand. - Despite your differences and occasional conflicts you two complement each other perfectly.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[r-riri]

batboys celebrating Christmas

this is like a million days old but oh well enjoy xx

word count 948

fluff.

if you see grammar issues, you dont.

dick has always been someone who enjoyed the holidays. when he was a boy in Haley's circus, the whole crew would be wildly celebratory with any and all the holidays. after dick watched his parents die, he lost the spirit to do anything celebratory even if it was encouraged by Alfred. though dick always found it too hard to do anything without remembering his family

though after a while he soon went back into his spirit, after he realised that its best to keep his memories alive than let them shrivel up and die.

after he got a partner he would be thrilled if they shared the same willingness for the holiday like he did, though if he found out his partner wasn't all too into the holiday he would totally figure out the root cause as to why. if he found out that it may have been due to family issues he would soon try to replace the bad memories with ones that are filled with a more positive outlook on the holiday

he would attempt to surround his partner in compete joy and show them that the holiday was about love and understanding.

i believe he would have strong feelings for the holidays and he would want to ensure that his loved ones got the opportunities to be surrounded by pure peace

jason todd had a difficult life growing up, he understood why people may have celebrated the holiday but he never saw why he should bother himself with celebrating the holiday.

ever since his death he found a deep kind of hatred for the holiday, he never understood why he never got to experience that kind of love and comfort. he would wonder what he did in his life or past life to deserve to almost feel forgotten, to have died and to never have been brought justice.

though even after rekindling and trying to accept what had happened to him and maybe he can try to find some form of comfort in that maybe he can accept love

after getting a partner who may have a stronger adoration for Christmas he may question it, he may even lightly tease his partner for having such a strong adoration for his holiday that he has never been fond of

due to jason being a strong love type of person i personally believe that he would go out of his way to ensure that his partner felt comfortable enough to express their love for the holiday and to understand the reason as to why his partner feels so strongly.

if the reason his partner cares for the holiday so much because of love and connectedness to the people they love and care for, jason can understand that and hold respect for that reason as compared to money hungry people who may only care for the gift giving.

that being said gifting is something that i believe jason to be very good at. the reason i say this because i believe he has always been very detail orientated, which would lead him getting the most obscure present but its always something you needed and or to just make your lift easier, like for example, you either have mobility issues or just need assistant opening jars and he isn't around he bought you one of those rubber grips to open jars when he isn't around. you like reading and being comfortable he got you those odd glasses that you can wear when you're laying down but you can still see straight on with like reflective lenses. overall he is a 10/10 gift giver

i personally feel like timothy would either be into the Christmas spirit or he would treat it like an average day.

i feel like it would depend on who he is around is how he acts on that basis. i believe he would be a very comforting person to have on that day if you tend to be stressed around holidays i feel like he would take the time to learn all your tiggers and learn what makes you tick on these events and learn to make them easier and to help you feel more relax around the holidays, if its being around a large group of people that makes you tick, best believe that tim will be next to you holding your hand discreetly rubbing his thumb onto the back of your hand as a comforting way to show that he is still there

if you ever need to retreat back into one of the manor empty rooms of the manor away from people best believe he is high tailing it out of there cause he too wants to get away from the large group of people

he will sit with you in any of the rooms and just either talk, gossip or sit in silence, whatever it is that you prefer to help you calm down and avoid anything major happening.

i feel like tim would need some guidance on what to get you for these kinda events, not cause he doesn't pay attention, no not at all, but this man doesn't care about the price tag and he will go over the budget 10 times if he thinks you'll like the products.

so he will need guidance to know how much you feel comfortable receiving, cause he will literally buy it all then like stagger it so its not as overwhelming receiving like 50 gifts

overall the man just has your best interest at heart and will do whatever he can to ensure that he will make you as comfortable as he can whenever he can

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Hello there ! I thought about this while watching across the spiderverse : what if Miguel s/o's (also a spider-person) decides to help Miles behind Miguel's back without him knowing ? But he ends up realizing it when he sees his s/o alongside Miles back on earth 1610. The reason his s/o did that is because they believes there has to be a way to save Miles' dad while protecting the balance of the Multiverse.

Is it possible for you to write something with this scenario ?

Thank you in advance and, also, thank you for your beautiful writtings ❤

Ooooh very interesting but I could only write a short bit to keep it in line with the movie. It happens when Miguel traps Miles and I thought if he had to deal with heartbreak there, it would lead to more angst. Hope you like it!

The adverse effect was, I cried 😭

Don't make me choose

Word count: 800

Part 2>>

You stood in the middle. It was almost like this was another one of your canon events. To choose between doing what is right and the one you love.

Chaos swirled around, all the members who had gathered around you in Miguel’s lab were in an uproar, everyone trying their best to convince this teen boy that he had to accept his fate, that he was about to lose his father.

The spiderverse spread out around you, highlighting the common connection, the sacred thread you do not mess with but all you could focus on was the fear in Miles’s eyes. The poor kid was terrified and yet no one was paying any heed to it. You turned to see the one who meant everything to you.

He stood there, in the middle of it all with his hands resting on his hips, his shoulders slumped from exhaustion but you saw through him like no one else could. If everyone missed the panic that Miles was in, they also missed out on the tears glistening in Miguel’s eyes. Because you knew, you knew how deep he felt the pain of losing someone and yet standing in this position of leadership with his hands tied, he was going to deal this situation with a firm hand.

“You know this is the only way.”, he spoke to you, his eyes pinned on your every move as though he could tell that he was losing you in this mess.

But there had to be a way out. You can’t just let someone die because it was stated by an algorithm, if there was any chance to save Miles’s father, then you were going to take it.

You heard your name be called with authority as you took a step away from Miguel. He was ordering you back, to be by his side. But with the second step, there was fear in his voice and then there was only pain as you slipped further away.

“How can we just let someone die? When we all wear the mantle of a hero?”, you asked, the crowd falling silent to your question. You placed your hand on Miles’s shoulder and he gave you a relieved smile.

“But that is how it is.”, Miguel yelled and you turned to face him.

“The whole fate of the multiverse resides on this one event.”, he furrowed his brows, frustrated and stressed at the same time.

“And I stand to lose everything I’ve built.”, anger flashed across his face as he towered over you.

“I could lose everything.”, now his gaze was fixed on you as he said the words, his tone a little softer, a little broken.

“But Miguel,”, you reached out to place your hand on his chest, to calm him down, to get him to listen to you.

“what if there is another way?”, you pleaded with him. Tears threatening to fall.

“There is no other way.”, he broke free from your hold as he shook his head, his eyes fluctuating between his hazel brown to blood red. You waited for him to see sense but it was too late.

“LYLA lock him up.”, was the command you heard when you felt his grasp tighten around your wrist, pulling you to his side and away from Miles, who was now stuck in a red cell.

“Don’t do this to me.”, he spoke fast in hushed tones but that was because he was about to break.

“Don’t make me choose.”, he pulled you close, with the way he was lowering himself, it was almost as if he was on his knees.

“Miguel just listen to me.”, you were trying to contend with him as the situation around you got out of hand.

But instead he held your face in his hands to get your focus to just be on him, almost like he was at his wits end, pleading you to stay out of it

“This once, just this once turn a blind eye.”, his face contorted in anguish, his attention only on you, his eyes hoping to catch your compliance.

“You know I can’t.”, you felt the tear escape your eye and he bit down on his lower lip, his eyes closing for a second in defeat.

“I’m sorry Miguel.”, you leaned forward to kiss his forehead and break away from his hold as you generated an anomaly cell around him, trapping him within it and your heart broke when you saw the shock in his eyes as he registered what had happened.

Miles broke free from his cell with Hobie’s help and your focus turned to him as he waited for you, unsure if you were going to join him.

The second passed by slowly, as you took off running with him and you threw a glance over your shoulder.

You watched in slow motion as Miguel unleashed all his fury against the red cell walls, his claws scratching away at it but it was the way he screamed your name that made your eyes blur with tears, you couldn’t help but witness the utter devastation in his eyes and the wet stains that marked the sides of his face.

[emojellyace08]

If Lookism Characters (and Y/N) were in horror movies

WARNINGS: mentions of death (not too graphic/explicit) mentions of paranormal/disturbing stuff (mentions with the word killer/s), cursing/swearing

Daniel Park/ Y/N

Would probably be the main protagonist (lmao)

Plot armor 100%

Will tell everybody to calm down when things go wrong "C'mon guys calm down! It's probably just an animal or something".

Will 100% scream and have a mental crisis if one of their friends died.

Zack Lee/Eli Jang

That one motherfucker who's always loud (especially Zack when things started going wrong, Eli's calmer though)

Will have a mental breakdown when his friends (Mira for Zack and Yenna for Eli) was put into danger.

His vengeance will get in the way and they'll seek revenge and has the balls to fight off the killer.

"I don't give a shit Daniel! They're in danger and you're expecting me to chill the fuck out! You're so pathetic I'm killing that little d*ck!"

Jay Hong

If someone's always the quiet one in horror movies, they're probably the killer.

Lol kidding he's not he's just being framed (either by Samuel, Ryuhei or Goo those mfs.)

Tired of everyone's bullshit but still willing to help for the sake of everybody.

Will risk his life to protect everyone especially Danny, I need this boy so much.

Vasco/Warren Chae/Jerry Kwon (add in Alexander Wang)

The dumb one lmao

Will probably die first if they're not careful enough (NO VASCO/WARREN/JERRY/ALEXANDER STOP)

Or, he'll be the one who will be seeing abnormal/paranormal stuff (monsters/killers/ghosts). "Did you see that?" "Wait is that a white lady?" "GUYS I JUST SAW SOMEONE WEARING A WEIRD LOOKING MASK HE'S RUNNING LIKE A MAD MAN!"(will talk and ask a lot).

Zack and the others will probably not listen to him since he thinks they're so "dumb" (bitch listen to them they're being honest).

Goo Kim/Samuel Seo/Olly Wang/Vin Jin/Kuroda Ryuhei (add in Gun Park and James Lee: well a little bit)

The fucking menace who won't listen.

You said to not open the door? Bitch he'll kick it down.

And will pick fights with the others (especially with Zack or Eli). Wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice somebody lmao.

Believes ghosts are stupid, yet thinks killers are cool (they're probably the killer).

Crystal Choi/Sally Park/Jace Park/Mary Kim/Xiaoleoung/ Gun Park/James Lee/Johan Seong/Jake Kim/Hudson Ahn (add in Daniel Park/ Y/N)

Another one who's tired of everyone's crap

Will make the escape plans for the team

Calm outside, angry and scared inside

"Why did I get into this position?" type

Zoe Park/Mira Kim/Yui Kim/Mitsuki/Vivi/Doo Lee/Alexander Wang (edited: add in Heather)

The ones who will cry af (or pretend they're not scared: Doo Lee and Alexander)

Will have a mental breakdown bc they're scared that they'll be dying later or be the first one to die (it's both scary for them).

"I just wanna go home!" type

Will be so worried about themselves and their friends.

Jake Kim/Johan Seong/Kwak Jihan/Hudson Ahn/Sinu Han (add in Zack Lee, Kuroda Ryuhei, Doo Lee and Vin Jin)

"Wtf just happened" type.

Would not believe anything that's happening is real (Fuck this shit I'm out type).

Will curse a lot when the killer/ghost is coming.

"Oh shit, shit, SHIT RUN!" type.

Gun Park/James Lee

This mfs

Will smirk or laugh when somebody dies (I swear to God)

Everybody will probably ditch them for being a sussy baka thinking they're the killer (can you blame them?)

Doesn't give a sh*t since he can either solo the killer or he is the killer (if it's a ghost they just won't care or accept their fate lmao).

A/N: For Y/N you can be anything you want since we all have diff. personalities and ways to handle problems and situations and yeah hope you like it :).

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN

chapter seven — tough cookie

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: reaping day, president sn*w, finnick being a cheeky little shit. lmk if i missed any!

word count: 3.9k

previous part — next part

The months go by in a blur.

Dahlia spends most of her days training for the Quarter Quell — her mornings are spent practising hand-to-hand combat and her afternoons building up a resistance to physical exertion. Juniper pushes them past their limits and it turns out she can be one tough cookie when she puts her mind to it.

The morning of the reaping approaches much too fast for Dahlia's liking. The houses in Victors Village are eerily silent as she yanks an ivory dress over her head.

She's endured twenty-four Reaping Days during her lifetime and she can hand-on-heart say that they never get any easier.

She sits on the edge of her bed, wringing her hands together when someone knocks their fist softly on her door. Juniper toys with the hem of her yellow sundress until Dahlia tells her to come in.

Juniper pads across the floor in her flat shoes and sits beside Dahlia. Dread hangs over their heads like a dark cloud and neither of them speaks for a while.

Finally, Juniper leans her head against Dahlia's shoulder and whispers, "I don't want you to die. You can't die. You're the only person I have left."

She sits up straight again and rustles about in the bedside locker closest to her. She has been sleeping in Dahlia's bed ever since the announcement; neither one of them can stand being alone.

Juniper holds out the palm of her hand to reveal a necklace made out of different coloured seashells. It's held together with a piece of thick string.

"You might already have a token and that's okay, but I made this for you," she takes Dahlia's palm and closes her fingers around the necklace. "I won't be offended if you don't wear it—"

"It's beautiful," Dahlia ties the string around her neck and ignores the way the seashells scratch at her skin. "Thank you."

The sound of heavy footfall meets her ears and she glances over her shoulder to see River approaching her bedroom door. He shoves his hands into his pockets and leans against the doorframe. "I, uh, saw the peacekeepers. They're on their way down here."

Dahlia's relationship with her brother has been strained since he called her a slut. She nods sharply and pushes past River, knocking her should into his as she goes by. She bounds down the stairs and Juniper follows closely behind her.

Her feet barely touch the floor before Ivy wraps her arms around her sister's waist. If this is the last time she ever sees Dahlia, she wants to commit every detail to memory.

As if on cue, someone bangs their fists against the front door. Dahlia looks up to see the crisp white uniforms the Peacekeepers wear through the pane of glass.

She pries Ivy's fingers off her dress and holds her at arm's length. "Listen to me. It's going to be okay. I promise," Dahlia whispers, smiling softly. "Just do what River tells you. I'll see you when I get back."

The Peacekeepers hammer on the door again and Dahlia fights back the quick remark on the tip of her tongue. It would only land her in trouble. She brushes Ivy's hair out of her face and reaches for Juniper's hand before throwing open the front door.

Wyatt stands a short distance behind the armed Peacekeepers lining the driveway of Victors Village. He offers the girls a crooked smile and grabs hold of Juniper's other hand.

The sun is positioned high in the sky and sweat clings to their clammy skin by the time they arrive at the town square.

The Peacekeepers clear a path through the citizens of District Nine and march them up the steps of the Justice Building, where the reaping was to be held.

Malaki stands in the centre of the stage and his neon yellow outfit billows in the wind. He taps the microphone and forces himself to smile through the ache in his chest. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour. As always, ladies first."

He makes his way to the left-hand side of the stage and reaches inside the glass bowl. Two slips of paper float about inside. His fingers graze a slip of paper and he walks back over to the podium.

Dahlia's heart beats against her ribcage like a hummingbird flapping its wings. She holds her breath and squeezes Juniper's hand as Malaki unfolds the piece of paper.

"The female tribute for District Nine... Juniper Sinclair!"

"I volunteer as tribute!" Dahlia's hand flies up on its own accord. Malaki's eyes flutter closed and the faint sound of a shaky sigh can be heard through the microphone.

She takes her place next to him and swallows the lump forming in her throat. The reapings are to be televised later tonight for everybody, including her competitors, to see. The last thing she is going to do is break down.

Malaki composes himself and smiles, looking out into the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have a volunteer! How commendable, especially given that this year is a Quarter Quell. Your female tribute for District Nine is Dahlia Holloway." He clears his throat of any emotion and grips the mic stand until his knuckles turn white. "Now for your male tribute."

He plucks a singular piece of paper from the second glass bowl. "The male tribute from District Nine... Wyatt Riley!"

Mere seconds after Wyatt's name is called, a group of Peacekeepers roughly manhandle them into the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers throw them in a train compartment and leave without explaining why they didn't get to say goodbye to their loved ones.

Juniper boards the train and immediately starts pacing the worn-out carpet. She isn't sure exactly when tongue-twisters had become her vocal stim of choice but everyone had grown so used to it that they understood she needed time to calm down.

"Why don't you go down to your room for a little while? I'll call you when dinner's ready," Dahlia says. Juniper manoeuvres around Malaki on her way to find a quiet place to decompress.

Malaki opens his mouth as if he is going to say something. No words come out and after a couple of beats of silence, he accepts defeat and slumps to the floor by the train doors, cradling his head in his hands.

Dahlia wants to move, to comfort him and tell him that she has made peace with her fate, but she can not find the words.

Wyatt begins to nod off in the corner of the sofa and she reaches for the remote to flick through the re-runs of the reapings.

If she wants a chance at surviving this thing, she should know who she will be going to be up against.

Cashmere and Gloss from District One are going to be big competitors. It might be worth allying with them

Beetee and Wiress could be useful ——— they're smart. Beetee won his games by electrocuting six people at once.

Annie Cresta, a fragile and hysterical young girl, is chosen from Four before Mags volunteers to take her place. Finnick will be going back into the arena, too, but she hadn't expected anything less.

Put it this way, it wasn't a coincidence that the both of them were reaped. President Snow knows damn well that Dahlia would volunteer to spare Juniper from going back into the arena.

Johanna Mason is a force to be reckoned with, too. She isn't as innocent as she looks—— she won her games by pretending to be weak and killing the remaining tributes at the last possible second.

District Eight reaps a mother who has to peel her three children off of her. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark will be joining them in the arena but that doesn't come as a surprise to anyone.

The competition will be hard to beat this year. She's grateful for Juniper pushing them as hard as she did over the spring.

Nobody has much to say over lunch. Wyatt scoffs down dish after dish and drinks himself silly until two Avoxes carry him down to his room, patting his arm sympathetically when he sobs into their shoulders.

Juniper nibbles on plain toast and sips a hot chocolate before eventually retreating to her room to get some shut-eye.

Malaki has somewhat pulled himself together by the time mint-chocolate ice cream is served. His voice is thick with emotion as he says, "I'm sorry, you do know that, right?"

Dahlia meets his eye across the table and carefully reaches for his hand. She intertwines their fingers together. "You've done more than enough to help me over the years. Everybody has. I think it's about time I return the favour."

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, darling."

Night has fallen by the time they arrive at the new Training Centre; it towers over the other buildings, standing twelve stories high.

It's clear that President Snow pulled out all the stops this year and it makes her wonder if he had planned the Quarter Quell from the very beginning. She wouldn't put it past him.

A glass elevator brings them to their living quarters on the ninth floor, where a group of Avoxes have begun setting the table for their evening meal.

Wyatt has slept off his alcohol-induced sadness and is in high spirits. He launches himself onto an orange beanbag and snags a flask of champagne from the countertop. "To death," he laughs and toasts his glass in the air before downing the lot.

Malaki clears his throat awkwardly and takes a seat at the dining table. It's obvious he hasn't been this far out of his comfort zone in a long time.

Juniper had guzzled down three more hot chocolates on the train and is bouncing off the walls. She almost pulls Dahlia's arm out of its socket in her haste to get to the food.

Avoxes ladle thick carrot soup into their bowls before handing out plates of roasted ham and rice. A blackberry pie is passed around for dessert.

Juniper licks her plate clean and asks an Avox to fetch her paper and a pen in a sweet voice. "So, I was thinking—"

"Uh oh."

Dahlia kicks Wyatt under the table. He winces and mimics zipping his mouth shut.

Juniper drums her fingers against the grand oak table as she thinks. "You need allies, right? I'm gonna assume that you two are sticking together." The tributes nod and she scribbles something onto the wad of paper. "Finnick and Mags are an obvious choice — I mean, the old lady may slow you down a bit, but he's not going to leave her. Besides, allying with them will get you more sponsors."

"How?" Malaki saws his fork through a large piece of pie.

Juniper scans her notes and chews the end of the pen. "I mean, think about it. Dahlia and Finnick have been on the front page for the last four months. People are invested in their relationship. It's the perfect opportunity to gain sponsors."

"All they have to do is fight side by side and share a few sweet moments in the arena and Panem will eat it up. That's our advantage!" exclaims Juniper.

Wyatt leans forward in the beanbag and stabs a spoon in her direction. "Juniper, I never thought I'd be saying these words, but you are a genius. I don't even have to do anything!"

He plants a kiss on Dahlia's cheek and she scowls, swatting him away with her hand. He throws his head back in a laugh and bids everyone goodnight before leaving to claim the biggest bedroom in their living quarters.

˚＊✿❀༓❀✿＊˚

District Nine's stylists arrive at the Training Centre bright and early the next morning. Forrest, who has bushy eyebrows and uneven facial features, has been Wyatt's stylist since he volunteered during the sixty-sixth Hunger Games.

Forrest takes his time drinking a glass of champagne as if he doesn't have a care in the world regarding the tight schedule they are on.

Bloom, on the other hand, is a woman on a mission. She's typically an independent worker, but she has brought four assistants to help get Dahlia ready for the tribute parade that evening.

It turns out she isn't the only one cracking under the pressure.

Dahlia isn't given a chance to wake up and she's still half-asleep as someone glosses a nail varnish over her fingernails. She sits in front of the vanity and watches Bloom pull a straightening iron through her hair. "What outfit have you pulled out of thin air this time, I wonder?"

Her hair sizzles in the straightener and a soft smile plays on Bloom's lips. "You'll see," she evades the question with ease. Being Capitol means being born with the ability to avoid any topic in the history of mankind and she is no exception. "Just trust me. It'll be a showstopper, darling."

"I don't doubt it for a moment."

Her dark hair ends up being pulled back into a French twist with glittery hairpieces weaved into it. A few strands are left loose to frame her face and once she moves onto her makeup, Dahlia feels a shift in the atmosphere.

Everything has all of a sudden become very real.

Part of her wants to believe this is a horrible nightmare that she'll wake up from in a matter of minutes. The logical part of her brain knows better.

Yesterday was the last day she would step foot in her house. There would be no more train journeys to and from the Capitol. No more holidays or birthdays, winters or summers, sunrises or sunsets. This was it. She is going to die in that arena. Sooner or later, she has to come to terms with that, but for now, she has to stay focused.

Bloom dips her thumb into a pot of purple glitter and drags it across her eyelids before flicking her lashes out with a wand of mascara. She runs over her lips with a tube of gloss and attaches a pair of heavy silver hearts to her ears.

Her feet are crammed into a pair of high-heeled leather boots and Bloom finally reveals the outfit she will be wearing to the tribute parade.

It was a tight-fitted gold dress with a slit down the middle. It showcased her curves and just the right amount of cleavage to get her sponsors. The top half is fluffed into feathers and in the correct light, it looks like wheat harvested straight from the fields of District Nine.

Dahlia runs her fingers over it in awe as her stylist watches with bated breath. "I love it, Bloom. Thank you."

Bloom pulls the dress off the rack. Her assistants huddle around Dahlia, stripping her out of her bathrobe and helping her fit into the gown.

As her body begins to be moulded into the shape of the dress, she can see the cars pulling up outside of the Training Centre to take them to the Tribute Parade.

As if he has a sixth sense about this kind of thing, Malaki bursts through the door wearing a neon pink outfit that makes her head spin. "Oh, you look outstanding, darling! Are you ready to leave? We don't want to be late," he splays his hands across his hips.

Dahlia moves in front of the vanity as she ties the string of seashells around her neck. Bloom frowns disapprovingly but doesn't say anything.

In the glass elevator, the floors fly past so quickly that Dahlia soon feels queasy. It's a blessing in itself when they step into the lobby of the Training Centre.

Malaki gets roped into a conversation with Haymitch Abernathy and Dahlia doesn't stay around to find out what it's about.

Outside, Peacekeepers hold back reporters who are desperately trying to get tributes and mentors alike to answer their questions. Dahlia steps into the sunlight, and a camera crew from Capitol News ambush her halfway to her car. The rest of the reporters followed the flock.

"We meet again, The Angel of Death," Alistair D'Ettord grins and shoves a mic in her face. "Did you volunteer to go back into the Hunger Games for the glory? How many tributes do you plan on killing this year?" Alistair eagerly motions for his camera crew to zoom in on her face.

Dahlia stands like a deer in headlights as blood seeps through her fingertips. She wipes her hands on her dress and tries to block out the sound of the cannon firing one, two, five, nine, thirteen times. "As many as I have to," she smiles sweetly and struts away without sparing him another glance.

She weaves her way through the crowds and spots Wyatt standing by their car. He's tailored in a crisp gold suit that shimmers in the sun; it's simple but effective. He spots her in the crowd and a smile spreads across his face. He gives her a boost into the car and jumps in beside her.

"Wyatt Riley, where've you been hiding this little number?" she teases, wiggling her pointer finger up and down as the driver pulls into the main lane of traffic.

"I could ask you the same question," he raises a dark brow and vaguely gestures to her dress. "Bloom's a credit. She outdid herself again this year."

The driver pulls into an enclosed part of the Remake Centre, where their chariots lay in wait. Many of the tributes and mentors are already deep in conversation when they arrive, and as their car rolls to a stop, Wyatt helps her out before leaving to find Juniper.

Dahlia sets her feet on the uneven floor and finds the chariot marked with a number nine. Stroking the white horses, she feeds one a sugar cube and runs her hands through its mane. She's in a world of her own and doesn't hear someone calling her name until they are a few feet away from her.

Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen saunter over, dressed in matching black outfits. Peeta smiles at her but she doesn't return the sentiment, too focused on sizing the pair up. "Dahlia, right?" He sounds older than he is and it's hard to believe he has just turned seventeen. She nods and goes back to stroking the horses. "It's nice to finally meet you in person. We've heard a lot about you."

Katniss lingers nervously behind him and tries to get a feel for what kind of person she is. Peeta on the other hand, is more friendly and he extends a hand for her to shake. "I think what you did was really quite brave; volunteering for that younger girl," he says softly.

Dahlia keeps her eyes trained on the horses. "Well, it was the right thing to do." She doesn't like everyone treating her like some kind of hero. "I mean, you volunteered for Haymitch. That's pretty damn brave if you ask me."

Peeta murmurs a few words of agreement and ducks his head with a small smile. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick approaching. "We should probably get going," Peeta turns back to Dahlia. "It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she smooths her fingers through the horse's mane and turns away from the teenagers. A familiar voice called her name and she glances over her shoulder, eyes locking with Finnicks sea-green irises. "What do you want?" she deadpans.

Her snappiness doesn't deter Finnick and she begins to wonder if anything ever will. "I missed you too, honey. Sugar cube?" She plucks a piece of white sugar from his open palm and pops it into her mouth. "It's meant to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar but you and I... well, our impending deaths are just around the riverbend."

Dahlia's lips quirk into a smile and she ducks her head to hide it. She's grown to appreciate his warped sense of humour, perhaps because it matches her own. "You know, that may be the smartest thing I've heard you say since I met you. I didn't think you had it in you."

Finnick sucks his teeth and clutches at his heart. "You wound me, love." The colour rushes to her face and he takes a taunting step forward. "Do I make you nervous, honey?"

Dahlia's brain just about short-circuits at that. He's standing so close that she can smell the salt air that clings to his skin.

A sudden surge of confidence bursts through her as she sees other tributes with their attention trained on them.

She closes the gap between them, snaking her arms around his neck and leaning in until her teeth graze the shell of his ear. "Play along," she whispers, pulling back and firmly planting her lips on his own.

Finnick's taken aback by her boldness but it doesn't take him long to follow her lead. He pulls away and blinks incredulously at the smug smile she wears. "I didn't think you had it in you," he chuckles, using her own words against her.

"Break it up lovebirds!" Wyatt hollers, holding onto Juniper's hand tightly. Their younger counterpart has a habit of running off if she isn't tethered to somebody.

Juniper wrestles her wrist out of his grip and flaps her hands excitedly as she makes a b-line for the white horses at District Nine's chariot. She gently pats the horse's neck. "Do you think we could get a horse when we go home, Lia?"

Dahlia's heart flips in her chest at the mention of home. Finnick reaches down and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sure, June. Why don't you write to Ivy and run the idea by her?" she suggests.

Juniper nods before standing up straight and leaning in so that no one can overhear them. "I can't work out if you two are really together or not—" she whispers, "—but if you hurt her, I'll cut off your balls and turn them into a pair of maracas. Got it?"

"Got it," Finnick agrees, fixing her with an amused look. Backstage assistants let them know that there are five minutes until showtime and once Dahlia is settled in the back of the chariot, he leaves to assist Mags.

Dahlia sucks in a deep breath, palms damp with sweat. Wyatt keeps cracking god-awful jokes and she welcomes the distraction.

District One's chariot leads the way into the Parade Centre and as they begin to move, Wyatt interlinks their fingers together, trying to help her maintain some balance in the high-heeled boots. The sunlight is blinding and the audience stretches on for miles.

People in the stands wave signs of support and point at their favourite tributes that pass by. Her hearing has always been impeccable and if the crowd was anything to go by, she and Finnick were fan favourites this year.

Their white horses loop around the city circle and stop outside President Snow's mansion. He stands on a platform, dressed in a red suit and clasping a glass of wine in his withered hands.

Panem's national anthem sounds through the overhead speakers. As they travel around the bend of the city circle for the final time, Dahlia locks eyes with Snow and refuses to break his gaze until he's a dot in the sea of people.

[levichouphys]

My Musing of Ribbon - Ribbon in K64 Cutscenes and Other Official Material

So if you've ever read my fanfic "Star, Angel, Crystal" or seen my Kirby 64 fanart, you might've found out that I have a quite unconventional characterization of a certain cute fairy—Ribbon from Kirby 64. This post would be focus on how I see Ribbon in in-game materials, and perhaps one day I might talk about Ribbon's characterization in the fanfic itself.

Warning: This post would also include me screaming at a fictional character for being cute because we're talking about Ribbon.

Warning 2: This post isn't mean to invalidate other interpretation of Ribbon's characterization, but rather than me validating my own yee yee ass interpretation. We hug all flavors of Ribbon in Ribbon Land.

Warning 3: Please pray to our almighty Kirby 64 cutscenes before reading.

She is brave as hell, since she is the only fairy who didn't panic when Fire Nation Dark Matter invaded

LOOK AT MY GIRL

THAT DETERMINED NOD BEFORE SHE TOOK FLIGHT

Ribbon: (-`_´-)

Also she went into the portal almost first in all cutscenes except one (before Ripple Star), and that's because Kirby tumbled and she had to carry him.

Is she more terrified or more distraught by Dark Matter in general?

SOMEONE HUG HER PLZ SHE IS SADGE

I don't really know the fuck I am doing as I am now screenshotting sadge Ribbon and giggling my arse.

I think both (Ribbon being afraid of Dark Matter vs Ribbon being distraught at her homeland's state) are valid and can co-exist. But my reading would be leaned toward distraught, as she definitely cares about her friends. Like I think she was genuinely afraid for her friends when she saw a dark cloud engulfing your homeland.

As for what expression Ribbon would wear if you draw vs Zero Two fanart... it's up to personal interpretation but I might one day draw a very pissed Ribbon carrying Kirby.

Probably would be this pissed.

The Mom of the team even though she is more depicted as a child in official material

She was worried for 64 Dee as he was about to tumble

My reading for this small moment is she was checking if Kirby and Dee were about to tumble but you can also argue she was just chatting with them

Checking her new homie!

Checking out the Queen

So Kirby 64 has many slapstick humors like the gang using Kirby as a springboard, Kirby being hit by his own Warp Star... And just Kirby being hit in general. That said, I think Ribbon in particular has the most moments of she rushing to others to check if there are alright. Such a sweetheart. Would hug.

She would keep you at arm length despite being nice

The only one not eating in a group picnic.

LOL why was she so chill when a HUGE ahh wave was about to hit?

In Kirby 64, the gang had group bonding activities a lot, like the picnic at the end of Rock Star and the throwing stones competition at the end of Aqua Star. If you observe closely, Ribbon seldom joined such team activities, like she was the only one not eating in the picnic scene, and she didn't partake in the stone-throwing either.

So I think she is generally more reserved, even distanced, though I can see the arguments that she A. Might be a member of royalty B. Is the newest member in the gang depending on whether you accept "Adeleine = Ado" headcanon or C. She had eaten a bug before the Rock Star cutscene.

But I think writing Ribbon as an introvert would be my go-to because Kirby is definitely an extrovert.

Also see this Easter egg picture in Star Allies, she positioned herself the most left in this half-circle/half-ring line because she is left-handed. So she sat the most left to prevent bothering others, which is a common issue for lefties as Lefties often have this awkward thing where their left hands bumps into the right hand of the person next to them... While there are literally a dark knight and a rat she didn't know too well.

Yes I head canon Adeleine initiated this group bonding activity rather than Ribbon and Ribbon was there out of politeness and I will die on this hill—

Personally, I Don't Think Ribbon is A Member of Royalty

I think she is probably just a higher-ranking servant rather than the princess, although I would still hug Queen Ribbon. Her mannerisms, while more distanced than others in the gang, don't radiate "Yes I am a prince/princess" like Prince Fluff.

Plus, I think making Ribbon too important during K64 opening cutscenes would undercut her bravery. I would prefer that she was just naturally brave rather than being TOO important, which is the core of her character—A reluctant hero who chooses to step up not because she is special or powerful, but because she HAS to.

The ending kiss?

So if you dig up some older Kirby 64 material, I think it reads more like Kirby is into Ribbon rather than the other way around. I know this would be bad news for "Kirby is ace/aro" gang, but I would say one can argue 2000s media was allergic to platonic relationships in general. It's 2024, and Kirby is our ally and he is gender-less anyway.

THAT SAID, nowadays it's very rare to see Kirby/Ribbon is written in the way that Kirby has feelings much earlier than Ribbon, and "Kirby is oblivious to Ribbon's feelings" is a common route. I take that route as well to be fair, but my reading is more like this: She wasn't entirely sure about her feelings for Kirby, as she kissed Kirby out of gratitude, guilt of burdening him, and many emotions altogether.

Conclusion

My reading of Ribbon is that she is nice and would rush to you if you tumble, but will keep you at arm length. Also she is brave as fuck.

And I will HUG HER SO HARD YET GENTLY THAT SHE SQUEAKS— (got vaporized by the Crystal Gun)

[hannahhook7744]

"Please, Remember, They're My Family."

Summary: Alma's grief runs deep—deeper than any one realizes.  Trigger Warnings: Implied death, grief/mourning, loss of family, etc.  Alma Appreciation Day.  Prompts: Family. 

@almaappreciationday Inspired by this fic.

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

Alma Madrigal was strong and uncompromising. The perfect leader. 

The one person everyone in the Encanto looked to for guidance and reassurance that the magic was strong. 

It had been that way for fifty years and it was likely going to be true for the rest of her time here on Earth. 

The strong, stern, uncompromising, protective, perfect leader of the Encanto was how her niños and their niños saw her—it was all anyone ever saw of her, if Alma could help it. 

Because she couldn't afford to be anyone else. 

The Encanto needed a leader and the family needed her strong so that the Miracle could stay strong—so that they wouldn't lose their home, like Alma had so many years ago. 

(So they wouldn't lose what else Alma Madrigal had lost all those years ago). 

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

Alma Olga Botero Molinari was playful, clumsy, friendly, and realistic—but she was also graceful and lively and the epitome of a lady when she needed to be. 

She wasn't perfect. 

But she didn't need to be because her parents, while expecting her to set a good example for her younger brother and to be mannerful and ladylike, didn't expect perfection from her. 

And neither did her friends or family. 

They just wanted Alma to be Alma. 

Playful, clumsy, friendly, realistic, well-mannered Alma. 

That's all they'd ever wanted from her. 

(And now, they were  gone. Leaving her with memories that hurt too much to share). 

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

Alma pouted, miserable, resting her head in her mother's lap as the actress ran her fingers through her hair. 

“Still feeling bad, Mi pequeña adulta?” Alba asked softly, her long black hair resting in a messy braid over her shoulder—nearly getting caught in her hoop earring as she shifted. Trying to get into a more comfortable position. 

“Sí.” The six year old grumbled, scrunching up her nose. “I don't like being sick, mamá.” 

“It'll pass soon, cariño.” Her mother assured, humming slightly as she took a sip of her herbal tea. Trying to prompt Alma to do the same, no doubt. “Prometo. But for it to do that, you need rest.”

“But mamá—”

“Sana sana, colita de rana.” 

Alma sighed. “Si no sanas hoy sanarás mañana.”

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

Alma would look back on the moment when all three of her triplets were bedridden with a nasty cold shortly after getting their gifts. 

And she'd comfort them using the same phrase her mamá always used to stay. Being strong, no sense, and uncompromising like her mother always had been when she and her brother were sick. 

(Alma would look back on it whenever the scent of Julieta's herbal tea would send her spiraling into the past, through faint childhood memories that were graying and fading as the years went by). 

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

“Papá, why is your rat wearing a wedding dress?” Alma asked one day when she was seven or eight. Wrinkling her nose as the rat in question scurried across a little stage to meet another rat in a tuxedo.

“Because she's playing the part of the bride, mi pequeña princesa.” Her father responded, distractedly. 

“Rats can act?” 

“Sí, mi querida hija, anyone can act. Especially if they have someone as brilliant as your mamá teaching them.”

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

Anyone can act. 

Act.

Put on an act. 

Just like Alma Madrigal was doing every day as she led the Encanto and raised her niños and watched them raise their niños—pushing the memories of the before under the surface and suffocating them until they were out of sight, out of mind. 

Never showing a moment's weakness to the Encanto's people. 

Putting on a smile or a brave face as she slowly erased the girl she used to be, as was required of her. 

Alma Olga Botero Molinari had to die so that Alma Madrigal Botero—and later, just Alma Madrigal— could live and keep her and Pedro’s children could live on. 

Even if she was betraying the old her and the people she loved by doing so. 

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

“¡Ay dios mío! ¡Pedro!” Alma Olga Botero Molinari shrieked, splashing her boyfriend—her Pedro— as he hunched over with laughter. 

The absolute traitor. 

Laughing at her after she'd slipped into the river that was slowly becoming their spot. 

She would have loved his laughter in any other situation. But right then, she hated it. Hated the melody that always made her heart skip a beat. 

“Lo siento, lo siento!” Pedro gasped out between his laughter, not looking sorry in the slightest. “Lo siento, mi amor.”

Alejandra—the girl who was living with Pedro that Raimi had an eye for—cackled, but she at the very least was trying to hide it behind her hands. Unlike Alma’s very own younger brother, Raimi, who brayed like a donkey with Pedro's brother, Benito, at the sight of her drenched in water.

Raimi snickered, gesturing at Pedro like the little shit he was. “ I don’t think he’s all that sorry, mi hermana. Though I can’t say I blame him, how do you trip and fall into a river that’s six feet away?”

The nineteen year old scowled at him. “It was not that far away!”

“Was too.”

“Was not, tu pequeña mierda!”

“Ooo name calling are we now? What would Mamá and Papá say, Señorita Perfecta?”

Oh how she hated that name. 

Alma glowered and splashed the teen in the face, which only caused the rest of the group—Pedro included—to laugh more.

“Pedro!”

“¡Lo siento, lo siento!”

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

Whenever Mirabel referred to Isabela as ‘Señorita Perfecta’, Alma Madrigal would bristle. 

But Alma Botero Molinari? 

Her heart would break into a million pieces all over again. 

Just like it did the night Pedro was slain at their spot, where they had spent so many days and nights laughing with those she loved. 

And just like it did all over again when a day after the Encanto saved them, Alma realized her brother and his two small children hadn't made it to the miracle with her. 

Just like his wife hadn't.

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

Raimi was a sweet, rather laid back boy who took after their father more than their mother and wouldn't hurt a fly—even when he was being a little shit. As was his right as Alma's younger brother, apparently.

Which caused him some trouble with other boys his age in the village. 

Luckily for him, he had his big sister, Alma Botero Molinari, to bat those particular boys off with sharp biting words and an innocent smile that convinced most parents that their little angels had misunderstood the situation.

And luckily for him, when that didn't work, he had the girl he was courting to set them straight. 

“Touch my betrothed again—” Alejandra snarled, towering over the two almost men who had been giving Raimi trouble when he'd gone to collect herbs. Her teeth scarily sharp as she began to transform into her red panda form, growing bigger than the many of the homes in their village.

"ALEJANDRA, DON'T—"

She pointed her sword, which was now tiny in her hands, at them. 

“—and I'LL RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB!”

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

Alma Madrigal lived to have a thriving village, three niños, and six nietos. 

And Alma Olga Botero Molinari? She died so that Alma Madrigal could live without the weight of her full grief crushing her after the loss of everything she had grown to hold dear. 

For the village. For the niños and nietos. For Pedro and their families. 

For Alma. 

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

"Please, remember: they're my family.” Alma wanted to say, whenever people brought up her lost family and didn't have anything nice to say. 

"Please, remember: he's my family.” 

Alma wanted to say whenever people talked about Bruno like that. Especially after he disappeared. 

Why couldn't these people realize just how much she had a lost to get that miracle? What she had lost because of it?

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

“Please remember, that bruja you're talking about is my son.” Alma did say, after getting her son back. 

She would not lose her son again.

She'd lost enough, after all. 

[cosmereplay]

🍬 something cute for Syl perchance?

Thanks for the ask! Better late than never, right? Here's a little Syl treat, with a Hallowe'en twist. Rated General, vague RoW spoilers

---

Syl twirled again, and the bright green Thaylen-style skirt she was wearing swirled around her before bouncing back into place. "Someone should've told me how much fun this would be! That took no effort at all on my part!"

Kaladin smiled, almost lost in the piles of clothing surrounding him on the bench. "We were a little preoccupied with the thought that you might die. It's reasonable that we weren't thinking about fashion at the time...Wait, what do you mean, no effort?"

"See?" she said, and twirled again. "Ooo, I'm definitely getting this one!" She sashayed towards Kaladin, then stopped, holding out her skirt. "When I was still partly in the Cognitive Realm, I had to think out the physics if I wanted my clothes or my hair to move. Now that I'm fully in the Physical Realm, I can just twist! I don't have to think at all! Is this how you are all the time?"

"I guess? Maybe it's like how I always had to think through my Lashings. If I was from the Cognitive Realm, maybe I wouldn't've had to think about it so much." He grimaced, crossing his arms tighter. No Lashings anymore, unless he wanted to bond a new spren, and he definitely wasn't ready for that yet. But he didn't want to think about that right now. This was about helping Syl find a new life. "Are you going to try the yellow havah next? I saw how you were eyeing it."

Syl was already locked in the changing room. "Yep!" she called out. "Blue is obviously the best colour, but now that I'm fully Physical I want to try out more options. Yellow and orange are at the top of my list!"

As she changed, Kaladin sorted through the pile, looking for yellows and oranges. Personally, he wasn't sure they would be the best colours for her light blue skin, which was more opaque a colour than the watery blue of Natans. He pulled out a pale pink-orange havah.

"Are you ready yet?" he called out. Usually she changed quicker than that.

"I, uh, I don't want you to see this one," she said. She sounded disappointed.

"Here, try this one on," he said, and tossed the pink one over the door.

"Pink? I can always trust you to miss the point," she grumbled, but she sounded like she was changing anyway.

A few moments later, the sound of shuffling fabric ended, and there was a silence.

"You okay?" Kaladin asked.

The door burst open, and Syl stood in the pink havah. It was slim through the torso and had a looser skirt, like all havahs, and the left sleeve was long and tapered out, covering her left hand. This one had a tall collar that showed off her long, slim neck, and she was holding her head high as she stepped forward.

"I feel so regal in this!" she said.

"You look wonderful," Kaladin said, and he meant it. The colour was flattering--Adolin would be proud of the choice--and the fit was perfect, too. "You look like a real scribe."

Syl grinned. "I'm getting this one. I would scribe for you in this."

Kaladin grinned back. "That's good, because the position's open if you want it."

"We'll be a team forever, right?" she asked, and her forehead creased a little. "Even if we can't do the loopy fly-y thing anymore?"

He stood and held her hands. "I will never leave you, Syl. We're best friends for life. Even more than that. We're family."

She hugged him, and he squeezed her back. Even if they didn't know the way yet, he knew they would make it through like they always did, together.

---

For my Halloween ask game

[admirationandromantics]

Kiss Me Slowly

So this is the story I told you about some days ago! I don't know why, but I always think of him when I listen to this song, there's just something about it. This is a Chris x Reader story (fem). Hope y'all like it! <3

Word count: 2,4 k

Based on song: Kiss me slowly, Parachute

Warnings! Angst, divorce (your parents), don' worry it ends well

The movie night is going great, everyone is happy, Chris is happy, and I couldn’t feel better. Josh picked the movie, Sam brought popcorn and I hosted. It’s great to have someone to give me some type of positivity nowadays. Maybe we’re not friends all the time, but we usually come back to each other. I still don’t understand how we’ve managed for so long. I look over the sofa, capturing the blue eyes of a certain blonde. He must’ve already been looking at me. I can’t help the blush that suddenly coats my cheeks. He was looking at me. Over everyone, not on the movie, but at me. And he’s smiling. Just thinking about it gets me even redder, thank god we turned down the lights for the movie. I take a chance, looking over at him again. He’s still turned my way. When we lock eyes, it feels as if the room goes silent and we’re the only two people in the world. He tries to mimic something with his lips, and I give him a confused look. What is he doing? Is he trying to say something? He laughs at my bad attempt at understanding before trying again, making sure to form each word slowly and distinctive. I read his lips, trying not to get too caught up in them. It’s hard. 

“Are you good?” he tries, giving a sweet smile and waiting to see if I understood him. 

I give a silent giggle before replying in a nod. He gives me a thumbs up, turning his head back to the movie and paying attention. I can’t take my eyes off him. Today, he wore that cute dark knitted sweater he got a while ago. It looks good on him, not too tight nor too loose. He looked comfy, like I would have fallen asleep if I laid in his arms. I have seen his body before, when he has worn singlets or when I walked in on him in the bathroom back up on the lodge. A normal person would thank the lord himself that this man was wearing a towel, but if they saw it… The point is that he has an incredible body, he’s a big guy. One of those types who gives great hugs and towers over you without being scary or intimidating. 

A loud ringing noise interrupts my staring, and everyone suddenly turns to me. My eyes widen as I try to comprehend what’s happening. Emily nudges her head to my lap and I look down. My phone is ringing. And it’s my mom. We’re almost at the end of the movie, so several people are giving me intense stares, urging me to silence it so they can see how everything plays out. 

“Sorry” I whisper to everyone, quickly standing up. “I have to take this, just keep watching”

I walk up the stairs and into my room, anxiety rising in my chest. This could either be really good or really bad. No matter which, I would be okay. No one is dying, and no one is hurt. Well, except me, if it’ll go as I think. The knot in my chest tightens, and the air in the room is awfully hard to breathe. I pick up the phone and hold it up to my ear. 

“Hey mom” I start, trying to sound as normal as possible. It’s so hard when I feel like I’m choking. I make my way to the window forcing it open. 

“Hey sweetheart…” she answers in a horrible tone. It’s trying to be comforting, but she doesn’t manage. I can already feel the last hope in my body die, tears already forming in my eyes. 

“Look, I know your dad and I said that the couples counselling might help, but it hasn’t”. 

I look down, unable to answer her back. I wish I had siblings or something. Just someone to share this pain with. I thought they loved each other, it always seemed like they had. Why did they suddenly start hating one another? 

“We were told by the therapist to make sure to tell you that this is not your fault, but I know you’re old enough to know that. And you’ve moved out and everything! At least this didn’t happen when you were younger, so you would’ve had to move from place to place all the time” she laughs. I feel sick. My heart, my childhood, all my memories are shattering, and she’s laughing? I know she never wanted to fix things. Neither did my father, and I know I shouldn’t have meddled, but I couldn’t help myself. Why did this happen to my family? 

“Lucky me” I spit back and I hear her sigh. 

“This day had to come one day or another. Remember that this is not your life, it’s ours” she says and I just know she wanted to get out as quickly as possible. 

“Mom…” I try, holding back tears. “What really happened? I always assumed that I would be prepared if something like this were to happen. If you fall out of love, there are signs” I explain, the tears overflowing. I can’t stop them. 

“Oh sweetie, listen, nothing lasts forever, even if you think it will. What your father and I had, it wasn’t real, it was contentment and we were happy just living our lives” 

“That doesn’t make sense” 

“Sweetie, I have to go now, but I bet your father will call tomorrow and talk, okay? Have a nice evening!” she says in a freakishly sugary tone, ending the call. 

I can’t help my tears flowing down. Salty water tinted black by my mascara. I control my sobs, making sure to hold my hand on my mouth to stop the sounds coming out of me. 

I feel pathetic, like a little girl crying over a broken toy. I guess my mother is right, I’m too old to be affected by this, right? Am I just childish for being sad that my parents are breaking up, and both of them will never utter a word to each other again? How am I gonna celebrate the holidays? With which of them? Mom one year, dad another… 

I hear a door slamming downstairs. The movie must be over, and we’ve got classes tomorrow. Everyone has probably left. If I know Sam right, she has collected all the soda bottles and thrown out the trash. I get up, having to take my makeup off anyway. I’ll wash my face, brush my teeth and go to bed. Maybe I’ll be able to go to sleep after a while. I open the door walking right into someone. 

“Oh, sorry!” Chris exclaims. 

I look down, aware of the messy state I’m in. I swear, if he says anything comforting right now I’m gonna start crying again. 

“Hey…” he starts, his tone lowering and face tilting down, trying to get a look at my face. 

“What’s going on?” 

I lose it, falling into his chest and crying. I can’t help it. All the emotions coming over me at the same time. I don’t care that he sees me like this. 

His arms immediately go around me, pulling me into a tight hug while holding me up. I relax into him, letting the water run freely. One of his hands rubs circles on my back, and his head lowers to mine. 

“Did your parents…” 

He knows me too well, and I nod into his embrace. He has to know sooner than later anyway. He pulls me even closer, planting a kiss on my head. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise” he whispers, and I look up at him. His face is serious, not in a scary way, but he doesn’t have that usual ‘funny-man’ glint in his eyes. Right now, he’s comforting, caring, soft… I truly don’t think I would’ve wanted anyone else to find me like this. Eyes red, mascara on my cheeks and a knocked out body. His hand moves to my cheek, thumb drying off my tears. 

“Everything will fall into place soon, and I’ll be here to help you, got that?” he whispers, his hot breath going down my chin. 

“Is everyone gone?” I ask, lifting my sleeve and rubbing my cheek, hoping to get some of that damn mascara off. 

“They just left” 

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Of course” he doesn’t hesitate answering, and I feel content. Having someone here makes everything feel better. 

***

“Got an extra toothbrush?” he shouts from the bathroom. 

“Look under the sink, I think there is a new one there. Still in the package!” I yell back. 

It’s about an hour after the initial shock, and I feel better. The blow was the hardest thing, now I just need to come to terms with it. I think having Chris here makes it even easier to deal with. I’m not alone, I don’t have to deal with it all by myself. I walk back out, slamming into him once again. He grabs me, stopping me from falling. 

“I think you need little bells on your doors here. Can’t stop one from walking into another” he laughs. I smile, seeing his face without his glasses and wearing a white t-shirt he had under his sweater. The air in the hall is heavy as his expression fathers, the seriousness settling in again as I look deeply into his eyes. He looks down on my lips, leaning ever so slightly down. If I wasn’t paying attention, I wouldn’t have noticed. Mirroring his movements, I hold my breath as we both inch closer and closer. My heartbeat raises as I lean completely in, meeting him with a kiss. 

It’s careful, sweet, and slow. Movements going in slow motion, taking in every little touch. My arms go around his neck, feeling his naked skin and muscular back. One of his hands settles on my waist, the other cupping my face. I lean slightly harder in, and he does the same, making me almost lose balance. I quickly grab the handle of the bedroom door to stop me from falling. He pulls back, not far, just so that our lips are not touching anymore. I can sense his hesitation, his controlled movements as he slowly slides away from me. I grab the side of his shirt, scared he’s gonna run. 

“Don’t go” I plead, lower than a whisper, but he still hears it. I don’t know what his expression is, maybe a mix of vulnerability and shame. I can’t under it. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this tonight” he whispers back, and I look down, nodding in agreement. Probably not the best way to cope, though this is something I’ve wanted to do since forever. 

“Let’s get into bed” he whispers, taking my hand and leading me back into the bedroom. He lays me down in the bed, and he gets in right after me, holding out his arm. I move into him, head resting on his chest as his arm folds around me. I breathe heavily out, body untensing and calming down. He rubs up and down my arm, and I interlock our legs, leaning even more over on him. 

“Want to tell me about it?” he asks, looking down at me. 

“Want to hear about it?”

“Always”

I tell him about the separation, how it came as a shock to me. How I urged them to try counselling, and how I feel like a little child trying to trap her parents back together. I tell him about how, all my life, they have loved each other, but it ‘wasn’t real’ according to my mom. I even showed him pictures of my childhood, but he only kept telling me how cute I looked, so I figured that method didn’t work. I told him that they must’ve faked it for a while, just for me. It feels like they both have left me. My mother only talks to me if she has to and my father never calls. I think I remind them of each other, and that’s not something they want to deal with right now. 

“I just feel like that last hope I had… That was their love for me, and now…” I can’t finish, unsure or sad. Maybe both. 

“They both love you” he says, hugging me tighter. 

“You have to say that when I say that my parents don’t love me” I laugh painfully. 

“Okay, let’s say your parents don’t love you then” he pauses, and I look up. 

“I certainly hope this sentence has a second part”

“I mean to say, that’s not all the love you have, right?”

I nod in agreement. 

“You have the group, you have all of us” 

“We all know what a wreck that group is, it’ll eventually break up” I state, getting sad again. 

“I’ll never leave you” he suddenly whispers, looking down at me again. I tilt my head, meeting his gaze. He’s serious again. 

“You could throw me out right now, or ignore me for five years, whatever you decide, but either way… I’ll never let you go, you’ve grown too much on me”

There’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and I feel mine heat up. The room is filled with the type of tension you could cut with a knife, or easily rip apart with your fingers. Was this some type of love declaration? 

“I know it’s not the same type of love, but don’t worry, you’ll never be alone” 

I lean in, kissing him again. Tears run down once again and he dries them with both his hands, still holding the kiss, holding me. I open my mouth slightly to let him in, and he does. He goes inside me, carefully exploring. It’s so beautifully passionate without being scary and rough. He’s a listener, a gentleman, and a good friend. This man loves me, and I love him back. I pour all my feelings into him, but every touch still feels so intimate and tender. We continue for a while before both stopping to catch our breaths. 

“Tired?” he asks, smiling with glistening lips. 

“Very” I respond, the feeling unbearable. I don’t want to sleep. I want to stay with him, talk to him, and hear his voice. 

“Here” He moves his arm again, getting me in a comfortable position. If it weren’t for him, I would probably not fall asleep tonight. He’s a good distraction, as well as a listener and comforter. I close my eyes, melting into his warm body.

[ctrl-alt-tahu]

He's Always Been Dead

So... I have a completely uncanonical idea for Bionicle I'm turning over in my head.

What if Mata Nui was a title more than a person? Like "the Great Spirit" sounds more like a title than a name, right? What if the use of the Ignika was less like an electric paddle--because the Great Spirit was always already dead?

Basically, in this alternate story, the original Mata Nui (the spirit controlling the GSR) died as the result of the Great Disruption. The sacrifice of Jovan's teammate wasn't to die but to become the next Great Spirit. This is why it's necessary for wearer of the Ignika to "die": they become the next Mata Nui.

The Great Spirit who falls asleep at in the Cataclysm isn't the first Great Spirit--and it might not have been the second. Perhaps, after Jovan's teammate also died, the Ignika was next worn by a Makuta, sacrificing himself as nobly as the Toa before him had, but this left enough clues that--for the first time--someone pieced together that it wasn't the same Great Spirit reawakened, but the Makuta in an elevated position.

Naturally, it's Teridax who figures this out, explaining both where his ambition to "become" the GSR comes from and why he calls the sleeping Mata Nui his brother. Sleep spares him the pain--of betrayal.

Teridax's plan is to be the one to wear the Ignika, but after that whole "Takutanuva" thing, he no longer has a body to wear it. His backup plan may originally have been to try wearing the Ignika while inhabiting the Maxilos robot, but either he realised that wouldn't work (maybe he tried, before the Mahri got there), or he found a backup plan.

The being subsumed by the Ignika to become the next GSR would lose a lot of their memory and self (it is, after all, a sacrifice--and the truth of what happens wasn't know until a Makuta--a being of greater innate power than a Toa--did it), which Teridax wasn't keen on, and after being subsumed, the Ignika still had to be taken to the Codrex to upload the new Mata Nui. Teridax saw his opportunity to avoid the obliteration of his self and in his disembodied state had the perfect opportunity to slip in ahead of the new Mata Nui when the Ignika arrived in the Codrex and started the upload process, taking control of the GSR as the new Mata Nui while circumventing the loss of self supposed to go with it.

What this means, of course, is that the "Mata Nui" of 2009-10 is actually Matoro. And perhaps, after having had a Makuta as the last Mata Nui, the Ignika didn't obliterate everything that had made Matoro himself, and when he incarnates on Bara Magna, he begins to remember who he was and what has happened to him.

This is, of course, a transparent alternate reality that allows Matoro to survive. But it also sheds a little light on Teridax and his "brother"--and maybe on Teridax's destiny: he was supposed to become Mata Nui, but he was supposed to yield to his destiny and surrender himself, rather than to grasp for it.

[ambeer6]

DRDT is kind of similar to THH, isn't it?

chapter 1: Character closest to the main character betrays them by attempting a murder, but end up having it turned on themselves.

They seem to have been conflicted about killing, but felt they had no choice (only to then die themselves)

Guy with red hair and tongue piercing dies. Girl wearing a school uniform dies.

Motive videos (although murder was committed before they were watched in drdt)

chapter 2: Someone who gets bullied and someone who used to bully are involved with the case. (actually a main reason why I suspect eden is because the bully/victim duo of nico and ace already failed. I'm open for ace culprit though.)

Someone is revealed to be a serial killer, but didn't commit the murder (unless you believe Levi will suddenly turn out to be the culprit???)

Someone's gender is relevant to the motive.

Secrets motive. (although murder was committed before they were publicly revealed in drdt)

SPECULATIVE: someone saw the body before the others set off the BDA.

If it turns out next episode that someone messed with the crime scene, this will cement the parallels.

Now my speculations for chapter 3: Motive will be money or some kind of material good.

I hope they'll subvert this trope, but it's likely that two people will be victims and we'll have one culprit. Three deaths in total. Although if we're looking THH.... person A kills person B, then person C kills person A.

The people who die in chapter 3 tend to not have a very strong relation to the main character, either positive or negative, which is why I doubt Charles and David will die here (that's more of a chapter 5 thing, yeah?)

If disguises are going to be used, this would be the ideal chapter for a THH parallel.

Killer will have a pretty shit motive, lets be honest...

In vein of THH, the dead people in this chapter might leave behind something that will help the others later.

[thatbennybee]

Viva and Branch are kinda weird to me i feel like they get along only in one front and thats safety they both kinda have a similar story in terms of They Saw Their loved one leave them behind or die in front of them and they both in some terms secluded themselves but Viva seemed happy with it seeing how her colors aren’t muted or anything if anything as we saw she is still like Poppy

Branch was secluded by his choice and he was miserable while Viva was happy in her own little cage yet seeing them interact (while just for a little) i don’t really see how they get along outside of probably paranoia

If i can put it in words lets say Branch and Viva can both do Ballet Street Style lets say Viva and Branch (Grey) both do it perfectly but stay in a spot not letting them go and move but when Branch got his colors he uses more space being more free while Viva stays still (if that makes any sense)

Idk i just dont feel like Viva fits sure i love Poppy has family but i hate that she’s… there like she was added like last minute

No... Viva definitely fits, she was just rushed. Viva is a parallel to Poppy in the same way that JD is a parallel to Branch. ☝️🤓 It's quite clear she is.

Viva is the result of not having someone like Branch in her life to make her see that her way of life, while temporarily effective in keeping other safe, was still not being free nor happy. JD is the result of what Branch would be like without meeting someone like Poppy. Someone who was headstrong enough to change their worldviews. Viva and JD didn't have that person.

The whole point of Branch and Viva having that one candid moment was important.

We have no idea if Viva was grey at some point or not, but regardless, that's not a fair point because the entire Pop Village went great for a short period of time and they're all fully vibrant, including Poppy. Branch was grey for like 20 years and has permanent effects from it, big difference.

Viva could've been grey and just gained them back like anyone else. I don't see how that's a point. 🤔

Moving on—

Branch wears his heart on his sleeve and openly talks about the bad things in the world, Viva hides hers so she doesn't have to think about the bad things and forces herself to think only about the good.

Poppy does the same thing in Trolls 1 and tried to force positivity through Trolls 2 and both times, it backfired. The difference is that Poppy had negative reinforcers that changed her behavior and thought process, while Viva was somewhat given positive reinforcers to stay where she was.

By that, I mean that she believed that hiding and staying that way would keep them safe. It was effective, yes, but she wasn't growing or changing because she was essentially proven correct. Meanwhile Poppy had a mindset that only worked within her sheltered bubble of life, but when her worldview was challenged, she had no idea how to handle it and choked.

Viva chokes too when they all leave her and her worldview is shattered when told that life outside isn't how she remembered it.

Branch is pretty candid when talking to viva and how he heavily relates to her, but shows her that there's other ways for her to grow. I don't see how Branch healing mentally would make it so Branch & Viva couldn't get along.

I think having someone who understands your fears better than anyone else world actually make it easier for them to bond and for Viva to heal in a way that is healthier than refusing to talk about it.

Branch and Viva could bond in ways other than safety, it's quite clear that Branch has no problems being silly or having a good time when he wants to.

He literally says it directly to Viva that he used to fear the world like she does, but he doesn't anymore. He's not that same person overly obsessed with safety and fear of the unknown. He just knows when it's a time to be serious and when isn't and he can take it easy.

Poppy has learned this lesson herself considering how she was quick to see that Viva wasn't being serious and focusing when asking her important questions. Viva just didn't really get the air time to learn the right lesson and it sucks. :[

Anyways, Branch having a level head and having a more serious approach than his peers doesn't mean he can't just have a good time and I feel like that could actually be a really good lesson for Viva to learn. You can want everyone to be safe, but also know when to reel it back and see that everything will be okay.

I think him and Viva would get along really well once she stops putting on the persona of being overly happy when she's not and is honest about what she's been through. I think he'd be able to find creative and familiar ways to bring her back into Pop Troll society without overwhelming her. They're all survivalists after all. :]

[phruxx]

By Alexandra Erin

So I just saw someone wondering how liberals can cut ties with conservative friends and family members over immigration policies when most Americans (including most conservatives) support immigration reform. I'm going to talk about what I call the Shirley Exception.

The Shirley Exception is a bit of mental sleight of hand that allows people to support a policy they profess to disagree with. It's called the Shirley Exception because... well, I mean, *surely* there must be exceptions, right?

Let's imagine that in response to suspicions about overbroad use of service animal rules, a city somewhere decides to just swing the pendulum 100% in the other direction. Restaurants, public accommodations, etc., no longer have to recognize any service animals.

And in the aftermath of the change, existing rules about where animals may and may not go apply full force.

A lot of people would back the change because Obviously Some People Take Advantage. (Positing that someone, somewhere is taking advantage is a great way to get the masses on your side in our politics, sadly.)

Now if you point out the existence of a blind person or an epileptic person who has a service dog for everyday navigation of life or for life-saving purposes, the Good People who just don't want anyone to take advantage will tell you: "No one's talking about legitimate cases."

And if you point out that the rule that they're backing would affect what they call "legitimate cases", the response will be: "But surely there will be an exception."

If you back up an anti-abortion activist to the point where they actually have to grapple with a case where the parent would 100% die delivering a 100% non-viable fetus, you'll get the same answers: "No one is talking about those cases." and "But surely there will be exceptions."

All of those studies of people in Trump Country USA who were shocked, shocked, that the kind man next door who is a good father and a great neighbor and a real part of the community was dragged away by ICE? They all thought that surely he'd be an exception.

If you point out that the laws/policies they're talking about *don't* offer such exceptions and in some cases explicitly forbid them, if you say "So let's put those exceptions in writing."... well, then you're back to Surely People Will Take Advantage.

See, the people who are sure that Surely There Will Be Exceptions are very comfortable with the idea of justice being decided on a case-by-case basis. They've always had teachers, bosses, bureaucrats, even traffic cops giving them some slack for reasons of compassion and logic.

I mean, if Officer Smalltown von Cul-De-Sac could give them a warning when they were caught with recreational amounts of pot as kids because it was harmless and they Had Futures, then Surely there must be similar exceptions for everyone?

That post about "I never thought the leopards would eat my face, sobbed woman who voted for Face-Eating Leopards Party" is very true, and it goes farther than personal immunity to a very generalized and broad Just World Fallacy.

Surely, they think, surely the leopards will know to only eat the *right* faces, the faces that need eating, and leave alone all the faces that don't deserve that.

But if we try to lay out rules to protect faces from being eaten by leopards, people will take advantage. Best to keep it simple and count on decency and reason to rule the day.

So moderate conservatives, what we might call "everyday conservatives", the ones who don't wear MAGA hats or tea party costumes and think that Mr. Trump fella should maybe stay off of Twitter, they will vote for candidates and policies that they don't actually agree with...

..because in their mind the exact law being prescribed is just a tool in the chest, an option on the table, which they expect to be wielded fairly and judiciously. Surely no one would do anything so unreasonable as actually enforcing it as written! Not when that would be bad!

And then they are confused, shocked, and even insulted when people hold them accountable for their support of the monstrous policy. "I didn't vote for leopards to eat *your* face! I just thought we needed some face-eating leopards generally. Surely you can't blame me for that!"

The old "Defense of Marriage" laws are another textbook example of this. Many of them included language that expressly forbade giving similar benefits (like hospital visitation) to same-sex relationships.

Yet the people who voted for them, in many cases, wanted it to be known that No One Is Talking About Stopping You From Visiting Your Loved One In The Hospital. And Surely There Will Be An Exception.

The Shirley Exception is how people who are only mundanely monstrous, moderately monstrous, wind up supporting policies that are completely monstrous. And when they do, they always want credit for their good intentions towards those they see as deserving, not the outcomes.

I'm describing a phenomenon here and I don't have a solution to its existence. While convincing people that laws that don't specify exceptions functionally *don't have them* might work sometimes on (ironically) a case-by-case basis, what is really needed is a broader shift.

People need to get used to thinking about the harm policies will do as a real part of the policy, not a hypothetical that Reasonable People of Good Will Can Surely Work Around.

Maybe the tack of saying, "If it was your life on the line, wouldn't you want that to be in writing?" would work. I don't know. Like I said, I don't have a solution here. This is just a thing that happens.

This thread is going viral again. I don't have a SoundCloud to promote because Twitter is my SoundCloud. Tweeting this kind of explanation/analysis is one of the main things I do (when I'm not at a con). If you get some value from it, feel free to tip. https://paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr

patreon.com/AlexandraErin