#(it's fine I'm fine doesn't hurt me at all or really anyone but I shouldn't have done it)

[oneofstarkskids]

piercing blade

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: angst

notes: post aou! wanda and stark's daughter, wlw

your dad was a hero. that's all you'd ever seen him as. from the time you can remember, he'd done anything and everything to protect you. so you didn't understand how anyone could call him a monster.

of course, wanda maximoff had an entirely different experience with the man. it was his company and his livelihood that tore her entire world apart. ever since she was a little girl, she swore that if she ever got the chance to look him in the eyes...she would kill him.

but here she was. shaking his hand.

"my daughter can show you to your room," he said nonchalantly before strutting off down one of the long hallways of avenger's compound.

you reluctantly led her down the corridor. you weren't stupid. you were fully aware that this was the same girl who'd tried to destroy your family only days before.

nat was still shaking off the effects. bruce was nowhere to be found. tony's panic attacks were back. but it's fine, because you were all just supposed to forget about it and welcome her with open arms?

you hadn't said a single word. you didn't have to.

"i know what you must think of me," wanda broke the silence.

you scoffed, "trust me...you don't."

except that she did.

"you think i am here to hurt the people you love. you don't trust me," wanda said, coming to a stop.

you rolled your eyes, "figure that one out all by yourself?"

wanda eyes slanted ever so slightly, scrutinizing you. "i'm not here to destroy your life, but that doesn't mean i'm not able to."

you glared at the witch, "is that supposed to be a threat? there's security cameras in every corner of this hall. the second you laid your hands on me, the intelligence system would alert my father."

wandas eyes glowed momentarily, "do you really think they will protect you?"

"i'm not afraid of you," you said as you crossed your arms.

wanda nodded curtly, "you shouldn't be. if i wanted to hurt you, i would've done it the second i walked through the door."

that wasn't enough to calm your nerves.

"why should i trust you?" you asked.

wanda looked into your eyes with sincerity, "because i know what it's like to lose someone you love."

before you could react, her hand was on your arm. the simple brush of her fingers warped your mind until all you saw was a dark hospital room.

a beeping monitor.

a crying baby.

"she's beautiful," a woman's voice whispered hoarsely.

but within moments the baby was handed off to a nurse as the slow beep sped up.

faster.

and faster.

until...

constant ringing.

you snapped back to reality and shoved wanda away from you.

you hardly noticed the tears pouring down your face.

"don't mess with my head, witch!" you spat.

wanda didn't react, "i'm not showing you anything that wasn't already there."

you scoffed, "you know, you may not be a threat but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

the brunette glared and tilted her head, "a hero? like you? everything special about you came from your father. from a legacy that he didn't even create himself."

"my father changed the stark name and national warfare as we know it. not to mention he stopped an entire alien army with a missile," you defended. "but please, go on about his legacy."

silence cut through the air like a piercing blade.

wanda looked down, "i lost a lot because of him. but i'm here. trying to make up for the people who've been lost because of me."

you stood on alert. so very distrustful of the new recruit, but she continued, "i'm not going to argue with you, stark. hate me all you want. i can't change the past. but i hope to someday change your mind."

she walked into the door just a ways down the hall without another word, leaving you there frozen.

[the-modern-typewriter]

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

The ex-villain caught the hero's arm, forcing them to a halt. That at least, perhaps, was one thing that never changed. It shouldn't have comforted them - the ex-villain's lack of care for other people's potential boundaries.

Still. It did.

They couldn't remember the last time any of their friends or team had touched them so fearlessly, as if the hero wasn't an infinitely breakable thing. Just as they couldn't remember the last time their friends or team remembered that they weren't simultaneously invulnerable. Untouchable.

It was nice.

The former villain's grip was strong and firm and warm, like if the hero suddenly keeled over they wouldn't buckle with the weight of it.

The hero realised distantly that the ex-villain was saying something, eyes dark, brow furrowed.

"Hm?"

The ex-villain's lips pressed thin. "You're hurt," they said, again.

"Yeah," the hero said. "I know. It's fine."

"Hurt doesn't sound fine." The villain's teeth were gritted. "They can't be sending you out there in pain. Do they do that a lot? I'll kill them."

The hero laughed before they could help themselves.

The ex-villain's scowl deepened.

"Sorry," the hero said.

"How is that funny? Aren't you supposed to be against brutal murder?"

"Oh, yeah. No. I am. Don't kill my friends." The hero waved a hand to bat that whole idea away. "You're supposed to be reformed and all that jazz. It would look terrible on your record. People will get the wrong impression."

The ex-villain stared at them.

The hero gave their arm a gentle tug.

The villain did not let go.

"I have chronic pain," the hero said. "So it's funny."

The villain stared at them for a long moment in absolute silence.

"I'm sorry," they said, very calmly. "What?"

"Today's not a bad day for it, particularly." The hero shrugged. "But like, yeah. If I didn't do my job when I was in pain I'd like never do my job or really much of anything, so..."

"That's not funny."

"It's gotta be a little funny."

The villain was still staring at them.

"Comes with the whole being magically super flexible thing," the hero said. "It's okay."

"Every time you say 'it's fine' or 'it's okay' I become even less convinced that you are either of those things."

The hero snorted, partly to mask the way the words caught them off guard, an unexpected odd-angle blow. "Eh. Fine enough to fight. Speaking of..."

"No." The former villain's fingers flexed on their arm. "Your people know about this?"

"Obviously."

"And they're fine with it?"

"I can handle myself."

"Maybe you shouldn't have to."

The hero's ever-present cheer wobbled, just a fraction. Their throat thickened. They weren't quite sure what to say. They shrugged again, and did their best to summon a smile even brighter than before.

"I should go," they said. "Big robot to restrain before it hits the city and all that."

"Can I help?"

"Don't you have your own assignment to get to?"

"I meant with the pain."

"I mean, unless you can give me a new body."

"I can endeavour."

The hero snorted again. "It's fine, Doctor Frankenstein. Thanks."

"Is it?" The ex-villain's voice was quiet. "It doesn't have to be, you know. Not everything is."

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it. Their throat felt dry. They looked away, suddenly self-conscious in a way they'd thought they'd long since shaken off. Suddenly...

The ex-villain's fingers stroked through their hair. The hero willed themselves not to cry.

They didn't think anyone in the hero industry had ever told them it was okay not to be okay. Struggle was a part of the job, sure, but only in a very specific way. Everyone knew that heroes kept going. They got up every time they were hit and never gave up.

"Can I...can I have a hug?"

They felt silly asking, but the villain hugged them immediately and without question. Held them close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hero melted.

Then, they went to save the world.

[deathofacupid]

BEYOND CLOUDS. ᡣ𐭩 content — satoru gojo. depression, poor mental health. hurt + comfort, fluff. requested!

satoru's noticed that look. it starts with a slow blink, your eyes glazing over, as if everything is fading. satoru isn't sure if you even realize it, but you do. that's how it always begins. you grow quieter, like the world's volume is being turned down, replaced by a faint ringing in your ears.

every single time. so, when he sees the energy draining from you, satoru can't bring himself to leave your side. you insist you're fine, but there's that flicker of uncertainty, and that's enough to keep him rooted.

you don't know where it comes from, this feeling. one moment, you're fine. better than fine. you've got the love of your life sitting in front of you, laughing at some silly joke, and then… you're not. suddenly, you're swamped by an overwhelming dread, a weight that drags you down. thinking too much and too little, all at once.

you're curled up on the couch with him, tired. not the kind sleep can fix, and believe you, you've tried. it's the kind that settles deep in your bones, stealing your ability to do anything.

it's quiet. not uncomfortably so, but you wouldn't mind hearing his voice. as if he's reading your mind, he opens his mouth, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.

"the weather's nice today," satoru muses.

you give him a look. "you haven't been outside all day. how would you know?"

"well, the weather's always nice when i'm with you," he grins. you think he's trying to be romantic, and you appreciate it. even if it doesn't make much sense. but he's got that giddy look, eyes bright and gleaming, that deep blue you love.

you snort in response. it's enough encouragement for him, enough to keep him talking. "it's true! i feel… sunny," satoru insists, and you indulge him, shaking your head.

"yeah?"

"yeah. you make me feel sunny."

that gets a chuckle out of you, though it's more sarcastic than he intended. "seriously? i'm not a sun. i'm, like, a giant looming raincloud."

"no, you're not. you're a giant looming sun-cloud."

you sigh. you always feel guilty. guilty that satoru's pulled into this mess, your mess. he tells you not to think that way, that he loves you and he's always here. a part of you feels selfish.

you haven't gone through a fraction of what he's endured, and yet, he still fares so much better. so, what right do you have to curl up in a ball, curtains closed, sheets messy, pillows scattered, dishes in the sink unwashed, laundry overflowing?

"sorry," you murmur.

"for?" he asks, genuinely confused. does he really want you to spell it out?

"this. you know. you're supposed to be at school."

"don't apologize," satoru says, dismissing it immediately. you're about to protest, but he cuts you off. "remember when sugu died?" he asks, his voice quiet.

"i was a wreck. you were the only one who saw me like that, at my weakest, when i shouldn't ever be."

"satoru…" you breathe.

"you got me through that, because you love me. how is this any different?"

"well, i didn't lose anyone," you protest, weakly.

"so? hurt is hurt, baby. doesn't matter how you get it."

you fall silent. what can you say? satoru tilts your chin up, his gaze meeting yours. "why don't we go check out the weather, then? see if i'm right?"

and, as you stood in your lawn, squinting up at the vast sky, hand-in-hand with satoru and his goofy grin, you realized he was right.

[aptericia]

Not proud to be here.

--

Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.

The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.

It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.

Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.

And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"

Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.

--

On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.

[cosmicpearlz]

end up here

summary: how does one fix a broken patch in a marriage? fake smiles in public and secret animosity behind closed doors doesn't help anyone.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

waking up in the morning, you turned your head. finding the empty spot that would've been where your husband laid. you turned back towards the wall and sighed to yourself. the argument that should've only lasted one night with apologizes following later, was going on two weeks now. you stretch your arms and legs out before removing the duvet from your body. stepping into your slippers, you head downstairs to the kitchen.

jude stands shirtless, pajama pants hanging just below his waistline. making two cups of coffee. he heard your footsteps but refused to look at you. a painful reminder of what your shared mornings used to be.

"good morning," you mumbled. almost like a quiet whisper that travels through the cold feeling kitchen.

"good morning. i made you a cup of coffee," jude finally turns and meets your eye for a brief second. looking back down, he stretches the cup to you.

"thank you. aren't we meeting with your family today? and then you have camp for england coming up, right?"

"yup," is all jude said before walking away with his own coffee cup. you couldn't believe this is what your marriage has come to. one-word answers and cold shoulders. to think you guys were happy before the argument. an argument that you both couldn't even remember how it originally started.

-

you and jude walked hand and hand to the front door. not wanting his family to see this rough patch that you guys were going through. you wanted to save the warmth that his hand gave you and put it in a box. missing the affection that was always shared. jude secretly felt the same, he just missed his wife but the pride he carried was too high at the moment. not wanting to be the first to apologize. even though he uttered hurtful words like you had.

"my babies!" denise smiled brightly and pulls you both into a hug. "how was the flight?"

"long. so stupidly long and i'm still jetlagged," you dramatically pouted your lips.

"well come in and relax for a bit darling, lunch is almost ready." jude loved the way you interacted with his family. it made his heart grow twice in size, seeing how soft you became. continually bringing out the side of you he loved seeing every day.

"you alright mate?" jobe asked his brother. following his gaze where they see you talking to their mum and dad.

"just fine," jude lied to the younger boy, pulling him into a hug and pressing a kiss to his head.

jude and jobe head to the living room, sitting down and watching tv. mark soon joins them, leaving you and denise in the kitchen. you sit on the dining room chair and lean your elbows on the table.

"how are you really feeling?"

"i'm okay, works been busy."

"y/n, i mean how are you and jude doing?" she turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow. you groaned and put your head down into your arms.

"is it that obvious?"

"a little. but it's only because i know you guys. always very affectionate and now it's limited to just hand holding." you almost hate how much his mom knew your relationship so well. "talk to me my love." denise puts the pot to a simmer and takes a seat across from you.

"we got into an argument two weeks ago. i don't even remember what the argument was about at this point! we've said some pretty hurtful things and now it's just not the same."

"marriage isn't going to be perfect," she reaches over to grasp your hand. "you guys are probably just stressed and you haven't even got to properly enjoy your new lives as a married couple. this rough patch isn't going to last but it will if you can't communicate with each other."

"but how do i talk to him when he said that we shouldn't have got married?" tears began to pool at your eyes, remembering how he said those hurtful words.

"honey, in no way does he actually believe that. he loves you so much and adores the ground you walk on. don't take this as me excusing what he said, because it was very insensitive and hurtful. what did you say?"

"i told him that maybe we shouldn't have gotten married. then i said that my life would be so much easier if i just never met him," you retold her exactly what you said. once the words come out of your mouth, it left a bitter taste. denise sighs and pats your hand that rested in her hand.

"you both were in the wrong. it should never have to come to this. you guys need to talk right now. end this and i promise you that everything will be okay. just talk to one another. you both love each other, right?"

"yes. i don't know what i'd do without him in my life truthfully."

"then communicate that."

not knowing that jude was having the same conversation with his dad and brother. you tried to compose yourself by wiping the stray tears that fell from your eyes. you missed your husband, and you just wanted to feel his touch once more. jude walked into the kitchen, sending a small smile to his mum.

"can i talk to you love?" jude whispered softly. you nodded and placed your hand in his outstretched one.

-

entering his childhood bedroom, you both sat on the bed. you've been in here many times over the years that you guys dated. it was silent for a while, choosing to look at the walls of the room instead of speaking. it never used to be awkward with jude. everything always flowed naturally, it's what you loved about him.

"i'm sorry-"

"i'm so sorry-"

you both share a light chuckle. not expecting to speak at the same time. even though, it was something that happened often.

"i'm sorry y/n. i didn't mean what i said. marrying you has been the best decision i ever made. getting to wake up and see you next to me or coming home from a hard day and falling into your embrace. truthfully, i fall more in love with you every day. these past two weeks have been completely shitty in comparison to what our normal routine is."

"i feel the same jude. god, i wish i could take back what i said. i don't know what i would do without you. you keep me grounded and sane. you're the best thing that's happened to me. i'm sorry that my pride got in the way of loving you. nothing should ever come in the way of us being in love. it's hard going to sleep without speaking or cuddling."

"my pride got in the way too. we've both hurt each other and i don't want to continue down this path. i love you too much to simply give up now. i miss my beautiful wife."

"and i miss my beautiful husband." jude laughs softly, as you wipe more stray tears. he wasn't laughing at you crying but laughing at the fact that, even with tears and a horsed voice, he found you to be the most precious thing in the world.

"c'mere," jude says, opening his arms as an invitation. you didn't think twice before crawling into his arms. sitting in his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms wrap around your waist, and you began to cry into his neck. rocking you back and forth, it sends tears of his own to fall onto his cheeks.

"i'm so sorry baby. i don't ever want it to get to this point again," he whispered into your ear.

"me neither," you hiccupped out. jude pulls away from the hug, just to see your face. he takes his free hands and wipes your tear-stained cheeks. once he's finished, he keeps one hand on your cheek and moves the other to rest on your waist. you leaned into his touch, missing the way it felt against your skin.

"still as beautiful as ever."

"even with red eyes and a snotty nose?"

"especially with red eyes and a snotty nose, are you kidding me? you're the prettiest girl."

"you're just saying that because you're my husband," you chuckled to yourself.

"i say it because it's true and i mean it. being your husband is just a plus."

"i love that you're my husband. i also love that we can go back to normal, goodness gracious i missed you so much."

"i love you so much and will continue to do it for the rest of our lives," jude kisses the tip of your nose and then places a kiss to your forehead. pulling you back into a tight hug.

[petriwriting]

Second chances last - Theodore Nott X Reader

"Prove me wrong then! Prove me that I can trust you, that you won’t fuck me over the second I drop my guard!"

Just a quick Theo Blurb. After breaking up, your new bf cheats, and Theo wants you back. Implied Slytherin reader.

.

The fluttering candlelight of the party was supposed to be soothing, to incite conversation and chatter. But you weren't exactly relaxed. You were dressed nicely, presentable, pretty. But you just didn't quite feel it. You sighed, leaning against the wall, watching the party go by, the faces passing by with polite smiles. Some are more familiar than others. The house was old, with a large balcony overlooking the hall, music playing. Full bookshelves. Drinks in nice glasses. Some wealthy family has heirlooms displayed on the walls. You don't know why you were really there, but you wanted to be around people.

"Can we talk, please?"

Theodore says he's in a nice dress shirt. He looks handsome. He approached you while you were lost in thought, and you stiffened.

"I don't really think that's a good idea." You retorted.

You sighed and folded your arms, rocking on the heels of your shoes. You had broken up with Theo less than a year ago, foolishly jumping into another relationship to avoid being alone, and well, it backfired.

"I'm really sorry about what happened," Theo says sympathetically.

"You didn't deserve that." He says. you stay silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"That fucker shouldn't have hurt you like that-," He goes on, stopping himself. he runs his fingers through his hair to calm himself. He takes a step towards you, closer.

"Theo, what do you really want?" you ask him pointedly.

"You." he says quickly.

"You know why I can't do that," you say. You start walking away from him, towards the stairs, past the balcony, and into a private space, hopefully a bathroom, to avoid the conversation that has exhausted you. Of course, the bathroom was locked. Theo had followed you up, gently pleading with you. You finally gave in and turned to him.

"I just want to be with you, I miss you," he confesses; away from the party, he's more honest. "I can't, Theo," you scoffed, tears threatening to spill.

"I can't get hurt again," you said coldly. "It's not worth it," you said. Theo looks shaken by these words, "You'll only hurt me, like everyone else."

"I never meant to hurt you!" he somewhat shouts, though the party is loud enough that it doesn't linger. "It doesn't matter you already did." you snapped back. "All anyone I've ever been with-" your frustration boils over, tears stream down your cheeks as you flush. "Everyone just wants to screw me over," your voice cracks a bit.

Theo softens up, hating himself for upsetting you, and knowing he hurt you, even if he tried everything in his power not to. A break up is never a fun ordeal.

"I'm just asking for a second chance," he says softly.

"Prove me wrong then! Prove me that I can trust you, that you won’t fuck me over the second I drop my guard!" you snapped. "Like all the others," you mutter.

"Fine."

Theo grabs your wrist and pulls you out onto the balcony, where everyone can see you. It draws some attention.

He kisses you, deeply, passionately. It ignited the spark you tried for a whole year to snuff out. His touch is gentle, meaningful, and he pulls away and holds your face, wiping the tears off your warm cheeks with his thumbs. Your hands find his wrists; you can feel the room watching you.

"I won't ever hurt you again. Promise," he says softly. the moment melts you away from the party, and suddenly it's just the two of you. You still love him, and God damn it, even if you don't want to, you miss him. You hadn't ended on bad terms, but breakups always hurt. And then the rumors started that he was hooking up with Astoria Greengrass. That one hurt. But you all knew she was pining after Draco. In that moment, everything just made sense.

"I'm sorry," you uttered. embarassed.

"Don't apologize," he cooed. "I love you Y/N." he said.

"I love you, Teddy."

[allllium]

Hi! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if they aren't feeling free to ignore this.

So my birthday was on the more recent side (the 19th) and, most my birthdays (this year included) ive ended up crying and with everyone doing more important things so I end up with like maybe 1-3 people who celebrate it like a week late, and as a result I just don't tell people my birthday,,

So I was thinking sirius x reader where they're still both crushing on each other and he finds out he missed readers birthday for the aforementioned reasons jdkdkdksjdk

I'm sorry if it's a odd request, and it's totally chill if you don't do this. thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night and don't forget to stretch, eat and drink some water!

~ this isn't an odd request at all, I get this feeling a lot. I have cried on every single birthday I can remember so I definitely get you. Either way I really hope you had a good birthday and hopefully the next one will be even better.

~ Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Time to Celebrate

~ Sirius is very offended he didn't get to celebrate your birthday

You don't even know how long you've been friends with Sirius. One day his friend James, got a crush on your friend Lily, and the rest is history.

That being said, you've never told them your birthday. Year after year went by and you thought there was no point to bring it up. Telling them your birthday meant pressure and expectations. It meant being possibly being ignored and being alone once again even though you shouldn't be.

Over the years of growing closer to Sirius, he's never even asked. You don't blame him. He has a lot going on. You can't expect your birthday to be on his list of high priorities.

Sirius feels different.

The only friend that knows your birthday is Lily. You should've known this would happen eventually.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" Sirius yells as he runs down the hall in your direction.

"Is that a trick question?" You ask, turning to face Sirius. "And is the running really necessary?"

"Why didn't you tell me about your birthday!?"

"You never asked." You say simply and wait as he slows to a walk and reaches you.

"That's a good reason and you know it. Explain please." He practically demands.

"I didn't think it was necessary. It's just a day."

"No it's not. It's a celebration."

"When's the last time you wanted to celebrate your birthday without James making you?"

"That's not the point!"

"It kinda is." You roll your eyes with a small smirk, and turn to walk away.

"But it's important." He follows right behind you. "You're important."

You stop walking for a split second, "It's just never been a big thing for me. I've never really had anyone to celebrate with." You shrug.

"But now you do." His voice has an upset tone laced somewhere in it.

"I know. I just- I didn't want to risk it."

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. "Well come on then, we have a couple of birthdays to make up for."

He grabs your hand to pull you with him.

"Right now? We have class, Sirius."

"We have classes all the time, It'll be fine."

He takes you out of the school to get things like cake and decorations.

Something for every year he missed.

[beefcakekinard]

43 + 45 for bucktommy 💕💕💕

43. falling asleep with their head in your lap +

45. running hands through hair

In the unflattering fluorescent hospital lighting, in a hard plastic visitor's chair, Evan looks wan. The light hits his face at odd angles, dragging down the deep bags under his eyes, draining his skin of its colour, its rosy vital glow.

Tommy has never seen anyone look so beautiful.

"Hey, baby," he rasps. He tries to clear his throat and ends up in a coughing fit that sets pain lancing through his body. Evan's eyes widen and in his rush to get a straw between Tommy's lips, he spills water on Tommy's chest.

"Hey, hey, it's good to see you awake," Evan says as Tommy sips his water. "How are you feeling?"

Tommy lets the straw go and tries to take stock. He looks down at himself - his left leg is in a cast from his hip down, as is his left arm. They both hurt in a dull, vague way, same as his ribs and his head. There's an IV line running through the back of his right hand. His stomach turns a little at the sight so he looks away. He's not great with needles.

"It hurts," he says, frowning. He looks back up at Evan, who plasters a fake smile on his face. "What happened?"

Evan takes his hand, carefully, cups Tommy's fingers between both of his hands without jostling the IV. "You don't remember?"

Tommy shakes his head and decides never to do that again when it makes the room spin.

"You were- there was an accident," Evan says, stroking his thumb down the back of Tommy's index finger. "You, uh, you got hit by- by a car."

"Oh." Tommy looks into Evan's eyes. They're so pretty. "Really?"

Evan smiles a little - this one is real, Tommy can tell. "Yeah. What's the last thing you remember?"

Tommy thinks, tries to grasp the memory of what he was doing before he woke up. It's hard to hold onto any one thought - it's like chasing bubbles. The second he gets his hands on one, it pops, gone. Evan likes to blow bubbles for Jee. She runs through them, twirling until each and every one is gone, and asks again, again! It's so cute it makes Tommy giggle.

"What's so funny, huh?" Evan asks. He's smiling still, kind of, but he looks confused.

"You're so cute," Tommy explains. He knows Evan will get what he means. Evan always gets what he means. Case in point: he laughs, which makes Tommy smile even more because he loves that sound.

"You enjoying that morphine, babe?"

Tommy almost shakes his head - but then he remembers he shouldn't. "I don't like morphine. It makes me nauseous." He pulls his hand out of Evan's hold and presses his thumb to Evan's birthmark. It fits his thumb so perfectly. Like Cinderella's shoe. "I like you, Cinderella."

Evan laughs for real, then, big and loud, and Tommy feels proud of himself. It's his job to make Evan happy. His hand is dislodged, but he raises it again, landing it in Evan's hair. It doesn't feel like gel, like he's used to, all he feels are Evan's soft curls, and he could get addicted to how they glide under his fingers. He pulls Evan closer, then down, so he's resting his head on Tommy's hip, and Tommy doesn't have to lift his hand so high to touch his hair. Evan's still smiling up at him.

"You look tired," Tommy says. Evan proves his point by yawning.

"I'm fine. You're the one who needs his rest." Evan lays a hand on Tommy's knee. He likes it, he always likes when Evan touches him.

"You can sleep," Tommy says. He traces his thumb across Evan's dark under-eye, making his eyelashes flutter, and on his way back to burying his fingers in Evan's hair he presses his thumb into Evan's birthmark again. "I want you to."

"Will you sleep if I do?"

"Yeah," Tommy lies. He thinks Evan sees through him, because Evan knows him so well, but he still closes his eyes and nuzzles against Tommy's hip.

Tommy focuses on brushing his fingers through Evan's hair, letting his curls bounce back into shape before he reaches them again, following the soothing rhythm of Evan's breathing. He loses track of time; it drips, slow like the motion of his fingers, slow like his thoughts that remain out of reach, and before he has a chance to notice it, his own eyes have grown heavy.

He falls back asleep in pain, still - but with Evan's head a welcome weight on his hip, Evan's hand on his knee, his fingers tangled up in Evan's hair, it's easy to ignore.

[sapphic-agent]

So. I finally read this fuckass comic that's been talked about again recently. I'd only ever heard about it before so I decided to check it out. I'm gonna go through some of the pages and give my two cents because why not?

I'm not gonna lie to you guys, I don't get how Katara is "out of character" here. This is very reminiscent of Book 1 Katara, who was playful and teasing and immature and acted like, y'know, a kid. I know Bryke might have you thinking otherwise, but she shouldn't baby Aang all the time.

Especially because he is supposed to be practicing and just... isn't doing it. This was her way of lightheartedly trying to motivate him, which I think is pretty on brand for her.

You could make the argument that Katara is being dismissive here, but honestly? The subject clearly makes her uncomfortable. She was kissed (without consent) before a major battle by someone she saw as a friend. Of course she was uncomfortable. She has every right to not want to talk about or acknowledge it.

Calling that out of character is not doing Kataang shippers any favors when the most common criticism against them is their tendency to brush aside Katara's autonomy.

(At first when I saw this panel, I thought maybe she was being a little abrasive towards him. But... She's the same way with Toph in The Runaway. This isn't behavior that came out of nowhere. Why is it that it's only a problem when it comes to Aang?)

I guess a better question here is, is Aang out of character? For me, it's actually yes and no.

I think they made him overly mopey. Like yes, he's had his moments in the show, but drawing hearts in the dirt? What kind of shit is this??

Not to mention his weird little monologue inside the rock ("Who's really playing games here, Katara?" Are you actually serious, Bryke? Idc what anyone says, those words would never leave Aang's mouth). It feels like a bid to make him more sympathetic so that the reader feels bad for him. I'm fine labeling that OOC.

However...

Do I think Aang would purposely physically hurt Katara? No. Do I think Aang would get so caught up in his emotions that he stops being mindful of himself and his surroundings? Well.

Both times you could label an accident. But both times resulted from Aang being careless and being unable to regulate himself. Now, you could make the argument that this is OOC because Aang learned and developed past this point. And I would agree, if we were talking about Book 2 Aang or even mid to late Book 1 Aang.

But honestly, character regression is very on point for Book 3 Aang. Especially post DOBS. Most of you already know about my beef with Book 3 Aang, so I won't get into that.

Now, I do think that Aang would be a little more apologetic and guilty considering how regretful he was in Book 1. But him prioritizing his own feelings instead of how he affected her? Completely on-brand. In EIP he was upset about how he messed up his chances with Katara, not that he kissed her without consent and upset her.

But even if this couldn't fit Katara and Aang as characters, even if they were outlandishly OOC and completely different from the characters we knew, that doesn't really matter. This comic is official and canon. Just like the comics where Aang ignores her in favor of his weird fanclub and she swallows her hurt and puts up with it. Just like LOK where Aang is a neglectful father and Katara is a mild mannered housewife.

You can dislike this comic and criticize its portrayals all you want. But it's still canon. You can't ignore canon, especially when your main argument for Kataang being better than Zutara is that it's canon

[velvetvexations]

Saw your tags on that binder post and I thought I’d share that my first introduction to chest binding was actually through the lolita community! A lot of big name japanese brands are not exactly size inclusive and did NOT cater to anyone with more than an A cup, so I did see quite a lot of safe binding advice and methods on blogs and forums back in the day before more inclusive brands became available, ranging from sports bra to actual proper binders. I’m probably not the only example of the “binding to fit into an angelic pretty dress” to “binding to fit into an angelic pretty dress and gender reasons)” pipeline, but plenty of other lolitas I know are still cis women who just do it on occasion or for specific pieces that aren’t very forgiving on the tits! I doubt that a single niche fashion subculture is the reason for those binders being marketed towards cis women so heavily, but I thought this was a funny anecdote :)

Fascinating!

patricia taxxon shit really fucking hurts. i dont want to be effected by a random internet microcelebrity not liking transdudes, that happens often enough. but god her music and essays got me through really rough shit and it really hurts to see someone i looked up to for well written essays and work fall back on the bullshit arguments used to deny my lived experiences. it really really fucking hurts, especially with how it feels barely anyone will talk about or call it out. i thought trfs were something id have to look hard for, and seeing their rhetoric creep into the fucking music i listen to and tumblrs i follow really truly scares me

I'm sorry, anon. I love you a lot. <3

“You shouldn’t break up the trans community into groups!” The TRFs literally came up with a way to break up the community via TMA/TME. They are actively distancing themselves from the community by baking fearmongering into their ideology. God forbid we create a term about sticking together against a group within the community that’s inherently dividing?

lmao literally

Just had my first time getting sexually harassed by a woman as a percieved cis man and commiserating afterwards with a cis man about how we're all just supposed to be cool with being treated like that. It's a weird experience and somehow going through the same things mostly from women as a girl then nonbinary then a trans guy it feels the same but the flavors change. I know the discourse is literally nothing but it makes me feel like my feelings shouldn't matter because of the male privilege. And I even did my civic duty and took the brunt of it away from the other trans man who was getting it worse because of his percieved feminine traits which people also like to pretend doesn't happen. All of it is just stupid.

It's fine, she was a woman and you're a man so that was praxis sexual harassment.

honestly i think a better predictor of how much autonomy a child is able to have over their presentation is probably whether the child is disabled moreso than agab, like i not only wasn't allowed to have my hair too short, i also wasn't allowed to have it too long for a chunk of my childhood because it took me awhile to understand how to brush my hair (because i was afraid to because i am hypersensitive to touch and my mother would always brush my hair in a way that hurt so much i would cry), and my mother would bitch and moan about how difficult i was about it (because she was hurting me and did not listen when i told her this) and so i wasn't allowed to have longer hair until i could brush it myself. ultimately the biggest factor is always the attitude of the parents though

God, so much of my shit with my mother was over my hair, it still really gets to me.

TRF is like the whole voting for face eating panthers. But it’s like TERFs are the panthers and TRFs are a cheetah, like “I’m a kind of cat too so they won’t eat my face as long as I eat faces too right?” WRONG they see you as prey, they won’t spare you because they see a fellow cat, they’ll eat your face cuz you’re not a panther!

cis women will like me if I explain to them how I'm -taxonomically- a woman

it’s insane to me that ‘it’s bad to hate someone for an uncontrollable part of their identity no matter who they are’ is a controversial take now

we've regressed

when people say ‘um ackshually i can say i want all men to die and if you tell me “men see these things and go far right because they think it’s true” then you are blaming women for men’s bad behaviour’ i just immediately assume that this person is stupid as fuck like. if a teenage boy goes online to see what feminism is about and is bombarded with ‘kill all men’ ‘all men are rapists’ etc then OBVIOUSLY he’s not gonna want to be feminist. it is really not that fucking hard to understand. people don’t wanna be in spaces that are cruel to them for an aspect of their identity that they cannot control it’s not ‘blaming women for misogynistic men’ to say that. it’s just fucking true. people are so stupid it actually pains me

unfortunately radfem juice is addictive

[writinginatree]

Here For You

Relationship(s): Xaden Riorson & sibling!reader, Bodhi Durran & Garrick Tavis & Riorson!reader, background Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: Someone has to force Xaden to take care of himself while Violet is unconscious after the disaster that was supposed to be War Games, and the others decide that this someone should be you — your brother, your problem.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of canon deaths, poor Xay is miserable

"Xaden still hasn't left his room," Bodhi says. "I'm starting to be a little concerned."

You shake your head. "What did you expect? He's not coming out of there until Violet wakes up."

If she wakes up. It's been two whole days since your group arrived at Aretia. That she's still unconscious after so long doesn't seem like a good sign, but you don't say that, even though you're sure you aren't the only one thinking it.

If she doesn't make it, if you got here too late and Brennan's mending wasn't enough to save her— You don't want to think about it. You have to believe she'll be fine. She, and Xaden. The thought that her death would likely lead to that of your brother, too, still makes your skin crawl, even after months of getting used to the fact that they're bound together forever thanks to their mated dragons.

"I know, but shouldn't he at least eat something? When I tried to bring him something he wouldn't even let me into the room."

Garrick nods. "Same. I barely opened the door a crack to ask how he's doing when he slammed it shut with his shadows."

You sigh. That's such typical Xaden behavior. He doesn't like letting people close when he's upset, keeping even those closest to him at arm's length. You know it's hard for him to accept comfort, but you're also sure he really fucking needs it right now. Well, no can do about it. The three of you will just have to keep lingering in the hallway, waiting for his door to open. Praying that when it does, it will be good news, not bad.

"Maybe you should try," Bodhi says, ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"To get Xaden to eat. If there's anyone he'll listen to, it's you."

"Don't overestimate me," you warn your cousin, though you're willing to give it a try. "You know how stubborn he is, so please don't expect me to work miracles."

"Course not. But someone has to make sure he's at least kind of taking care of himself. And out of all of us, you have the best chances of actually getting past the door."

"Alright. Let's see if you're right about that," you say when Garrick nods along to Bodhi's words, squaring your shoulders and crossing the few steps to Xaden's room.

You don't bother to knock. He would only ignore it anyway, or worse, lock the door so no one can disturb him. Opening the door, slipping inside and closing it behind you is a matter of two seconds. Surprisingly, the room remains quiet. You'd half expected Xaden to immediately yell at you to get out, to be attacked by shadows intent on removing you from his space, to get glared at at the very least. The utter lack of reaction you get instead is definitely more disturbing than any outburst could have been.

Your brother is slouching in an armchair beside the bed, chin propped on his hand, eyes fixed on Violet. Showing no sign he's noticed you, even though you're sure he did. It looks like he hasn't moved from his position in a while.

You step closer, treading softly, slowly. Like you're approaching a hurt animal. In a way, he is exactly that.

"Xaden?" He doesn't look up, even as you come to stand directly beside him. "How is she?"

He shrugs, which you take to mean Violet's condition remains unchanged. You're not sure if that's a good thing or not. She looks awfully pale between Xaden's dark blankets, her small frame almost disappearing in the huge bed. You can only wait and hope she'll recover. Surely she will — she's tough. Right now, you're more worried about Xaden's obvious lack of concern for his own well-being.

The circles under his eyes are so dark you'd almost call them bruises, his lips so dry and chapped you wonder if he's touched a single drop of water in the last two days. He looks exhausted enough to fall asleep on the spot, but you know he won't allow himself any rest until he knows Violet is okay. Of course, even when she does wake up, the question of whether she'll forgive him for the secrets he kept from her will remain. You know it wasn't easy for him, can see the guilt eating at him.

It honestly scares you a little to see him like this.

This is so unlike what you're used to from him. Normally, Xaden doesn't let it show when he's upset. And even on the rare occasions he does, it's different somehow. You would know what to do with him if this was like other times he's been upset. You can handle his anger, know how to deal with him when everything sucks and he's itching to punch something. You could handle a tearful breakdown, too, though it's been years since you've seen him cry. But this... this apathy... Like a part of him is slumbering alongside Violet, like all the fight has gone out of him... You'd been worried before, but it's genuine fear gripping your heart as you only now truly realize just how much he needs Violet.

"She'll be fine, Xay, you'll see," you try to reassure him.

He shows no sign that he's listening to you, and you want to cry seeing him so defeated. You wish you could help somehow, but the only thing you can do is try and make sure he takes care of himself — a sentiment which, knowing him, he probably won't appreciate. He clearly wants to be left alone and wallow in his misery, but you're not willing to do him that favor.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, you finally get a reaction out of him. Shadows rise and shove you away, toward the door — Xaden doesn't want your comfort. You retreat a little, but refuse to leave just yet. You came in here with a mission, after all.

"Did you eat anything since we got here?" you ask, knowing he hasn't, but unable to think of a better way to approach the subject.

He shakes his head.

"I'll get you somethi—"

"I'm not hungry," he interrupts quietly, his voice scratchy from not using it.

"Even so, you still need to eat."

When Xaden shakes his head again, you reorder your priorities and walk through into his bathing chamber to get him a glass of water first. If he really doesn't want to eat, fine, but he can't just go without water for days on end.

Except that Xaden seems to think he can.

"Just go away," he says, instead of taking the water you're offering him.

You sigh. "Xaden... When was the last time you drank something?"

His silence is answer enough.

"Please, Xay. You're not doing Violet any favors by refusing to take care of yourself. I understand that you don't want to leave her alone, and nobody's asking that of you, but you do have to eat and drink something. Do you want her to wake up only to find you passed out from dehydration?"

Xaden shakes his head, but continues to ignore the glass of water you're practically shoving into his face.

"Come on. Just a few sips. Please."

He takes the glass from you, but your relief is short-lived as he sets it down on the bedside table with a thud, spilling water onto the wooden surface. Damn his stubborn ass, and damn you for believing it could be so easy.

"Okay. Fine. I'm going to go make you a sandwich now," you decide. "And when I'm back, that water glass better be empty."

You pretend Xaden's lack of response means agreement, and leave the room. Outside, you're greeted with expectant looks from Bodhi and Garrick.

"Did he kick you out?" the latter asks when you don't immediately report on your success or lack thereof.

"He tried. But no. I'm going to the kitchen to get him some food. Not sure if I'll be able to make him eat it, though. He didn't even want water."

They both curse, and fall into step beside you.

"At least he let you into the room and talked to you," Bodhi says, adding on second thought, "He did talk to you, right?"

"Barely. Just said he's not hungry and to leave him alone."

"Which you won't, obviously."

"Obviously," you agree. "If he still doesn't want to drink when I go back to his room, you guys have to help me force some water into him."

"Right... Garrick holds him down, I force his jaw open, you pour the water in?"

"Yep."

It's easy to joke about, but what are you going to do if Xaden continues to refuse food and water?

Once downstairs, Bodhi and Garrick abandon you to talk to the others, leaving you alone with the question of what kind of sandwich your brother would be most likely to actually eat. He's not a picky eater under normal circumstances, but right now you're wishing he were — less options would make this a lot easier. In the end, you decide to make him a peanut butter and chocolate sandwich, a personal comfort food of yours. Maybe it'll work for him, too. Knowing chocolate generally is a comfort food for him too, it seems like your best bet.

Already on the way out of the kitchen, you get an idea and turn back to pour him a glass of chocolate milk. If you can't convince him to eat, maybe you'll at least get some calories into him that way.

Back in Xaden's room, the water glass is just as you left it. Part of you is surprised that he even lets you back into the room — you half expected him to barricade the door to prevent you from bugging him further.

You sigh as you approach Xaden, who hasn't moved an inch, and cautiously perch on the arm of his chair. Dangling the chocolate milk in front of his face, you say, "Would you prefer this over water? Because you do have to drink something."

Xaden continues to ignore you.

You sigh. "I'm not leaving this room until you at least drink something, Xaden. I won't force you to eat, but if you won't even drink your chocolate milk I'll get the boys to hold you down and make you."

At that, he finally looks at you, a scowl on his face that would have anyone else quaking with fear. But you just glare back, pointedly lifting the glass a bit more. The staring match drags on for endless seconds, but then, slowly, grudgingly, Xaden reaches for the drink in your hand.

He takes a tiny sip, barely lowering the level the liquid rises to in the glass, his full attention already back on Violet.

One sip, and nothing more.

You fight the urge to bury your face in your hands and scream. Stubborn idiot. If he keeps this up, it's going to be a long, long day.

"Come on," you coax after taking a deep breath to calm your frustration. "You didn't drink anything for like two days. You need a little more than one sip."

No reaction. At least he's still holding the chocolate milk. That he hasn't put it aside like the water is a step in the right direction. You can probably get him to drink some more in a bit. In the meantime...

You hold the plate with the sandwich out to him, into his line of sight but careful not to completely obstruct his view of Violet, and demand, "Come on. Eat."

It feels weird actually telling him what to do. Normally he's the one who gives the orders, not the other way around.

And unsurprisingly, he doesn't listen. He merely glances at the lovingly prepared sandwich for half a second, disregarding it to turn his focus back on Violet.

"Do you want something else?"

Another shake of his head, still without bothering to look at you.

"Starving yourself won't make her wake up any faster, Xaden," you gently say.

He glares at you then, taking another sip of the chocolate milk. A small victory, but better than nothing.

"Come on. Just one bite? For me?"

He shakes his head, a look in his eyes that makes you back down as you understand he just can't get anything down even if he wanted to.

"Okay. But at least drink your chocolate milk, yeah?"

A reluctant nod. You can see the effort it takes him to force himself to take another sip. It's torture for him to sit here and helplessly wait for Violet to wake up — and that on top of mourning your dead friends. Which reminds you—

"So, uh, we were thinking we'd put Liam and Soleil to rest later today."

Xaden flinches at the mention of Liam, a flash of guilt crossing his face before he nods his agreement.

"We wanted to wait so you and Violet can be there, but... In this weather..." You search for a tactful way to say that the stench of the corpses is getting near unbearable, swarms of flies getting drawn to the fortress, but come up empty, so you just say, "We should do it soon."

Xaden just nods again.

"Is... Is it okay if we do it without you there?"

"Yeah."

You can tell the decision isn't easy for him, but Violet has priority. Liam would certainly understand.

"Alright. I'll leave you be, then." You squeeze his shoulder and get up, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before turning to leave. "Yell if you need anything; we're all here for you, okay? And drink your fucking chocolate milk."

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "Vaggie?"

Vaggie: "Yeah, Charlie?"

Charlie: "Holding hands like this is really really nice, as usual, especially after a desperate fight for our lives, so this isn't a complaint or anything-"

Charie: "-but I think your hand... is leaking??"

Vaggie: "That's blood, sweetie."

Niffty: "I like blood!"

Charlie: "That's a LOT of blood?"

Vaggie: "Yeah. It happens when someone impales your hand to the floor with your own spear, and you want the spear back."

Angel Dust: "Only you, Vaggironi."

Charlie: "YOU'RE HOLDING MY HAND WITH THE HAND THAT GOT IMPALED!?"

Vaggie: "It still works. See?"

Charlie: "GaH- don't SQUEEZE IT!!!"

Niffty: (gigling) "Eww~"

Cherri Bomb: "Wow, someone put this girl in a slasher film."

Husk: "Fuck! It fucking squirted all over my fur!"

Angel Dust: "Ooh-"

Husk: "Not one. Shitty. Word."

Charlie: "SHIT!"

Husk: "That one doesn't count."

Charlie: "Fuck, shit- why is it still bleeding? The battle was hours ago! Shouldn't it be closed up by now!?"

Vaggie: "It might not ever, really. Heavenly steel and whatever."

Niffty: (peering through hole in vaggie's hand) "Oooooh~"

Charlie: "But it has to heal! It's- Niffty stop that- it's your HAND!"

Vaggie: "It's still attached so no big deal."

Charlie: "No big- Vaggie, there's a HOLE in you that I could stick my FINGER in!"

Angel Dust: "Just one? Wow, tight fit."

Vaggie: "Could've been worse."

Charlie: "WORSE-!?"

Cherri Bomb: "Angie, if they hear you and you get yourself killed on top of Pentious today, I'm gonna ugly cry and smear my running makeup and snot all over your stupid corpse."

Charlie: "- and you didn't even TELL ME I was putting a death grip on an open wound!"

Angel Dust: "That's so rude."

Vaggie: "The pressure was helping slow the bleeding anyway."

Husk: "Fucks of a feather fuck up together."

Charlie: "BUT IT ALSO HURTS DOSN'T IT?!??"

Angel Dust: "Aww Husky, would ya cry over me too-?"

Vaggie: "It's fine."

Husk: "Fuck you."

Charlie: "This is NOT fine!!"

Vaggie: (smiling at gf) "It doesn't hurt that much, babe, but I can wrap it up if you want."

Charlie: "No, I'll do it."

Charlie: (sighs)

Charlie: "...not like it's the first time I've gotten here too late, and only been able to bandage you up AFTER she's already hurt you..."

Vaggie: "Charlie..."

Charlie: "Nope! No angst right now- bandaging! I'll be gentle, okay?"

Angel Dust: "That's what she s-"

Angel Dust: "-OW CHERRI watch it with the elbows will ya!? That rib's BROKEN!"

Husk: "So's your fucking brain, dumbass."

Cherri Bomb: "He doesn't have one."

Charlie: "Well does anyone have a NON-BLOODSTAINED bit of cloth I can use for-?"

Niffty: (soaked in blood) "No~"

Charlie: "-AGUH NIFFTY! Stop looking through her hole like that!"

Angel Dust: "...."

Cherri Dust: "For the love of yourself, don't."

Angel Dust: "......I've got nothin'."

Husk: "Thank FUCK."

Vaggie: "Hey look, when I flex my hand the stab wound blinks."

Angel Dust: "Wait actually I'm gonna throw up."

Cherri Bomb: "An open bodily hole you DON'T like? Today really is just full of miracles..."

Vaggie: "I can make it talk." (holds up hand to gf) "Hi sweetie."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: ".... Sorry. I think I've lost a lot of blood."

Charlie: "Then let me blindfold and or gag your stab wound, before someone faints-"

Angel Dust: (THUD)

Charlie: "-just like that, great."

Cherri Bomb: "HA, oh that's priceless! Another fallen angel!"

Husk: "Why didn't you fucking catch him."

Cherri Bomb: "What am I, his boyfriend? You catch him!"

Husk: "I'm not that loser's boyfriend!"

Charlie: "Yet."

Husk: "THE FUCK YOU SAY??"

Vaggie: "Wait guys, pause the ship war-"

Husk: "FUCK YOU AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S SHITTY SHIPPING!"

Vaggie: "GUYS."

Vaggie: "Where's Niffty?"

Everyone: "........."

Everyone: (looks down at angel dust's unconscious body)

Niffty: (Squished) (one arm sticking out) (thumbs up)

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 65

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You should have expected Pearl to come visit you eventually. Actually, you HAVE been expecting it ever since you had the confirmation that she could tell where you were. She arrived just as you were starting to believe she wouldn't.

The only question at this point is why it took her this long... was she just busy? Are there more important things going on? You doubt it, you can only assume that she was just waiting for you to begin to hope she wouldn't find you just to crush your spirit... You can respect her tactics at least.

So there she is, at the foot of the hospital bed, silently waiting for you to aknowledge her.

She's just standing there...menacingly.

"Grian"

You suddenly remember when she threatened to hurt you in the ways that matter, back then you didn't really think she would actually do anything but looking at her now ... You aren't going to take the risk.

"Hello there Pearl... How curious to see you here."

"Is it, brother?"

Right, that whole thing, almost forgot about that whole story...she totally has a reasonable excuse for being here.

"Yeah, right... Sister."

"Do you know how much I had to wait for Scar to tell us you were hurt?"

"You didn't know?"

"I already knew about it of course but until Scar told us I couldn't exactly walk in the hospital. Because, unlike you, I don't act like an idiot and my mortal identity has no reason to act on knowledge she is not supposed to have."

"Wait wait actually I'm curious now, what did Scar tell you to explain my...situation? I doubt he told anyone of my Cuteguy identity."

You hope not at least, that would be very annoying for him to do. Pearl just scoffs, extremely rude, before crossing her arms and staring down at you.

"You aren't distracting me with that, I'll get my answers".

"You are really fixiated on that huh?"

"You are the one that is actively trying to keep information from the goddess of wisdom mate, really, you are asking for it at this point."

"Oh come on! You know I can't get away from it this time. I'm genuinely curious."

. . .

. . .

"Fine. He told us you get attacked by a villain."

"What villain?"

"Didn't say."

"... He didn't even tell me about it, if any of this was real I would have probably told you a different story and we would have been caught"

"But it is real." Her voice is strangely sharper.

"... Huh?"

"Sure, our identities are fake. We are gods parading as human. But they are all real, their feelings are real. So act like it."

"I didn't- I don't need to justify my word choices to you. Hmpf. And you know what I meant... Really though, what was he thinking?"

"Are you sure he didn't talk with you about it? That doesn't sound like him."

You think back to Scar's last visit, him telling you about yet another movie or series or whatever and you dozing off to the sound of his voice and him- oh...

Oh!

Oh

"Oh he did, he like totally did tell me."

She blankly stares at you.

"..."

"My bad...?"

"Grian"

"I forgot"

She sighs.

"I reiterate, you are a dumbass. You can't just rely on your godhood forever. Luckily for you mate I'm here to make sure you don't do that."

"Are you sure about that, I feel like I totally can though. You know, having godhood...That's like, the major part of being a god. It's in like the job description."

She just stares at you...again.

"Ok maybe you technically CAN but you shouldn't. Didn't you come here to the mortal realm to have fun anyway? I doubt you will if you keep acting like a god and evading consequences."

She- well, she got you there.

"... Whatever."

"Now, back to the original point. What in the world did you do!?"

"Oh, I? Well"

"Go on."

"Might have reverses time a bunch".

"... You- You WHAT!?"

Oh yeah, this is going to be long.

[fanfiction4sooya]

Oh that’s fine I completely understand. Could you possibly just write for g!p Mina x reader then

Hi sweetie, sorry for the late reply. But here you go! Hope you like it 💖💖

tw: g!p mina, face slapping, blowjobs, choking, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex, forced creampie, reader is a shit starter, etc;

You spend your whole day fuming, incredibly dumbfounded by the fact that Sana had cheated on you. The so sweet, so loving and caring Minatozaki Sana; Yeah, you weren't heartbroken as you should be, you felt just angrier by the second.

When you told Mina the whole story she immediately offered you a shoulder to lean on and of course, you accepted. Getting angry alone wasn't good for you, since you were a natural shit starter, a disaster seeker. She was friends with both Sana and you, but she was definitely on your side on this one.

"Hi baby" She greeted you, lifting two shopping bags full of booze. "I didn't know what you'd prefer so I bought one each" You hugged her, finally feeling at ease.

You were both sitting down on your living room, half a bottle of whiskey gone, along with a few beer cans. You were sat on the floor wearing only a long shirt and panties. It was Mina, you didn't have to be modest about anything, you were friends after all.

"Enough with my misery" You told her, she was sat on your couch, sipping her drink. "What's going on with you and your girl?" You chugged your beer, making a face.

"She broke up with me" She pouted, swirling her whiskey.

"That bitch!" You slammed your hand on her thigh, making her laugh. "But why though? I thought you two were getting along" She sighed.

"It's embarrassing..." She told you, kind of pouting. She was soft and shy, you loved that about her.

"Myoui Mina" You stared at her eyes. "I literally just told you in detail how my fiance cheated on me... Please" You kneeled, putting your hands together. "Please don't take any entertainment from me" She laughed, shaking her head. After a few seconds getting brave, she spoke again.

"She said I'm too soft" her cheeks got bright pink. 'What a baby girl...'

"Well, anyone that talks to you for like 10 minutes realizes that" You frowned, tilting your head a little. "She doesn't like your personality or...?"

"No, like..." She closed her eyes, trying to speak without sounding like an idiot. "She said I'm too soft in bed"

At first you didn't understand, maybe the booze had an effect on your information processing, but soon you understood what she meant. You laughed a little too loud for her liking, getting her to recoil.

"I shouldn't have told you" She covered her eyes, trying to disappear from the face of the earth. "Asshole!!" her ears were red as you tried hard to catch your breath.

"Okay, sorry, I'm sorry" You stopped laughing, taking a deep breath. "And why is that?" You genuinely asked. "She is like into bdsm and you're not? Because if it is, is totally cool. That life style is not for everyone" She stared into your eyes, realizing you were really serious.

"No, not that" She sat more to the edge of the couch, leaning towards you to speak. "She is not the first one to tell me that..." She scratched her nape. "Apparently I'm really soft with them, even if they ask me to be rough" You nodded.

"But why can't you be a little rough?"

"I'm scared of hurting them" She stated. "Look at my hand, it's big" She showed you her hand and you realized it was, in fact, big. "If she asks me to slap her face I get self conscious and freeze" You shook your head. What a little idiot. "And if she asks me to fuck her hard it's the same thing..." She looks down. "I'm not really small down there, you know?"

You bit your lip, gulping at that thought.

"If she asks you to hit her, it's because she can take it" You tell Mina.

"What if I lose control and do it too hard?" You roll your eyes.

"that's impossible, darling" You say.

"You don't know that" She frowns.

You smile, getting close to her legs and kneeling.

"I'll teach you how to do it, you little idiot" You take her hand and touches your own face with her palm, measuring it. "Here, the tip of your fingers have to touch under the eye, be careful so you won't hit her ear" You softly laughed, her hand warm and soft resting on your cheek. "Since you have big hands it's okay if you hit only with your fingers and not the palm, specially if she has a small face" She nodded. "Hit and stroke, okay?"

"You sure know a lot about that" Her cheeks got pink and you smiled up at her, still on your knees and between her legs.

"Do it, I wanna know if you got it right" You told her and she nodded. She lightly hit and you chuckled. "Mina, come on. Harder" You said.

"You were moving" She pouted and you bit your lip, taking her opposite hand to your neck.

"Hold it like this to the sides, avoid the middle of her neck" You placed her fingers in the right position. You took a deep breath, feeling something warm between your legs. You cleared your throat, trying to focus. "Don't cut her air circulation. Hold my neck and hit again" You told her and she took a deep breath.

She hit it again, but this time it was harder, the perfect amount of pressure on your neck. Without realizing, you whimpered, closing your eyes as her fingers made contact with your cheek. She stroked your face, her eyes getting darker and you were sure yours did the same.

"Again" You breathed out, your hands went to her thighs as reflex.

There was this small pause, this little delay in time as she observed your face, your expression. Her cock was hardening, tight inside her sweatpants as she thought about it for that second. Mina lift her hand striking hard, waking up from her drunken, horny induced haze.

"Oh my-" She tried to take her hand from your neck but you held it there. Your half lided eyes told her everything she needed to know.

You thought about Sana and how she would crumble the moment she knew about it; the drama, the hurt, everything. You were really a shit starter, drama seeker. 'Fuck it'

"let me teach you" You turned your head, kissing her palm. She visibly shivered, her pupils blown out. You squeezed your thighs together, your hand still on her thigh lightly caressing it, going up very close to her bulge.

"But Sana..." She hissed when you touched her over her pants, closing her eyes.

"She is not here" You pulled her in for a wet kiss, your tongue grazing her lips, sucking the bottom one. She whimpered and oh, it sounded so fucking good.

You worked on the knot of her pants as she kissed you, her tongue roaming inside your mouth made you moan, the mix between beer and whisky felt delicious.

Freeing her cock, you felt how heavy it was, the tip red and leaking pre cum. Looking into her eyes you licked it and she hissed, her hand flying to your hair, holding it.

"Shit..." She trembled, slightly bucking her hips into your mouth. It was really big, stuffing your cheeks as you sucked it, drooling all over it and making a mess on her pants.

Mina really didn't really know what to do, but that wasn't a problem. Not for you that liked to teach, after all. You lifted your face, kissing her again, moaning into her mouth as you jerked her off, the tips of your fingers didn't touch as you did so.

"You are so thick..." You moaned as she closed her eyes. "Don't be shy, pull my hair harder baby" And she immediately did as you told her, bravely spitting into your mouth, roughly kissing your lips. "Yes, don't hold back" You told her between kisses. "use me Mina, fuck me as hard as you can"

That seemingly had the effect you wanted as she pulled you up forcefully to straddle her on the couch, harshly biting your neck. You humped her hard cock and she tightened the grip on your arms, closing her eyes.

"Are you sure?" She asked, gulping.

"Don't hold back" You mouthed every word and she rolled her eyes, ripping your panties from your body. "Fuck" You yelped when she got up, bending your body down to the couch and spreading your legs.

That animalistic side of Mina was hot, completely different from the sweet Minari you knew. She spat onto your pussy, lining her cock onto your slit. You laughed provocatively and she slapped your ass hard, surprising you.

"You are such a pussy, Minari..." You felt her get unsure behind you so you had to provoke, wiggling your butt in front of her. "No wonder she broke up with you..."You tried to lift your face from the couch, but she pushed you down with one hand, pulling your hips flush against hers, fully entering you.

You both moaned, that raw feeling felt too much. She didn't wait for any adjustment, already fucking your hole and fully stretching you to her big cock.

"There you go..." She grunted hitting hard, her balls slapping against your clit made you mewl. It was hard and good, yes, but she could do better.

"Harder, baby..." You started back shotting, your hips meeting hers. She sank her fingernails on your hips, holding hard as she fucked harder, her hips losing a little bit of rhythm.

Now it felt good, her cock fully stretching you, your pussy raw and puffy from all the force. She rolled her eyes, shivering. Suddenly you stopped, pushing her off of you, changing your positions. Getting on your back on the couch you pulled her between your legs, sinking her cock back into your pussy; her eyes glued to where you were connected.

"Damn, you look so pretty" Mina said, her mouth agape.

You grabbed her hand, putting back on your neck like before.

"Do it, baby" You told her, shaking. So wet it trickled down to her balls, coating her dick as well.

She chocked you, slapping your face. Damn she was good at that.

"Tight..." She rolled her eyes, fucking you so hard you lost your breath. When she opened them, they were dark and cloudy, focused on not coming inside.

"Mina" You called, screaming. "I'm coming, fuck baby, keep doing that" You cooed, shaking. "f-finish inside baby, please"

She finally lost the mean demeanor, going back to the shy baby girl she was, her cheeks pink and her eyes doe and teary, still fucking you hard.

"Oh gosh" Was all she managed to say, still slapping her hips against your spread legs, cumming inside then all over your pussy when she tried to pull out. You held her in, trapping your legs behind her back as she groaned with her eyes closed, falling onto your body, blindly kissing your neck.

You couldn't believe you did that, nor that anyone would ever call Mina soft again after this class.

Of course she still had lessons to take but hey, you'd gladly teach her anything she wanted to know. You were her friend, after all.

[cripplecharacters]

I know we (disabled people) aren't a monolith and all that, we'll all have different opinions on what is and is not offensive, but I want to ask if you can explain your opinion on cosplaying a disabled character a little more, because I don't really understand how portraying a character accurately, disabilities included within reason, would be offensive. I could see the use of an aid that other people could be actually making use of being harmful, and I can see not treating the disability in a respectful manner by making a joke of them being harmful, but as far as the inclusion of scar to cosplay a canonically scarred character goes, I feel like excluding them seems more offensive to me, it feels like erasure of the character's disability. If for example someone cosplayed a character I made that I was using to portray my own disabilities, and the cosplayer didn't include those disabilities when they could do so, I'd find that really insulting and hurtful. I guess it feels like too nuanced of a topic for a blanket This Is Good or This Is Bad answer if that makes sense? Sorry if this comes across as antagonistic or hostile, I'm not trying to pick a fight, I just want to understand your perspective.

Hey, I'm fully aware that there are a lot of opinions going either way (from "literally everything is fine" to "abled people shouldn't cosplay disabled characters at all no matter what"). I did a longer reply about the same thing in this ask that maybe will explain some of it better. There are also opinions of other mods on this in our #cripping up tag.

I don't consider not including a character's disability in cosplay as erasure, since to me it's just dressing up as a character with your own body and all. I think everyone should be able to cosplay everyone regardless of what their "factory settings" are, just don't pretend to be a minority that you aren't a part of in your normal life. I see pretending to have a disability for "character accuracy" as more offensive, your canvas for cosplay is yourself and if you don't have that disability then you just don't and that's completely fine. For the sake of not being accidentally insensitive I won't be making comparisons to other kinds of "pretending to be a minority for cosplay", especially since most other examples would be much worse anyway. To me, this whole practice is just... unnecessary. Work with what you have the same way disabled cosplayers shouldn't cover their disabilities when cosplaying abled characters.

I see your example of a potential cosplayer not including the disability in a character that you have made. I make disabled characters too, a lot of them even (probably granted for a mod on this blog). Some of them share my disabilities. And I think that we just have fundamentally different opinions because I'd vastly prefer for someone without my disability to just omit it rather than pretend parts of their face don't move or aren't symmetric. It'd feel like mockery to me, I don't want anyone to pretend to have a facial difference for any reason. If someone tried to dress up as literally me, I'd have the same opinion - do the clothes and goatee, but leave my gait disorder and half-moving mouth out of this. Obviously these things are part of my identity to an extent, and they make me who I am, but pretending to have them to imitate me feels more akin to bullying than authenticity. To be clear I get why you have that opinion, I just feel completely differently about it. And I don't think either of us is wrong or not wrong, it's just a different view of the same thing.

At the end of the day though I don't really care about how people cosplay their blorbos if all they do is dress up and take some photos like most cosplayers do. I just answer questions when directly asked rather than go out of my way to talk about this since in comparison to a lot of other issues this doesn't have big enough of an impact on me to be too bothered by it (if I had to do a list of ableist things I'm annoyed by I can't imagine a world where cosplay would make the list). I'm guessing that most askers don't know any handy person with an FD they can ask that so they come here, and I try to be helpful to the best of my ability.

I think the smartest thing a person can do is read a few opinions of different people and make a decision for themself. There is no one convenient consensus to follow (that I know of?), so it is what it is. If there is a potential cosplayer who is reading this ask and thinks that the asker's opinion makes more sense to them, then that's what they should probably do. The only thing I insist on is that they have fun cosplaying (rather than stressing over what person on the internet is right) because otherwise what's the point...

What I do consider important personally is the original thing I brought up, which is how abled people use facial difference as a costume in order to scare or disgust others. That is insensitive, offensive, and always in poor taste, it spreads misinformation about visibly disabled people and creates a negative image about a whole group of people, a lot of whom dread this time of the year (as mentioned in the article). Talking about this is in my opinion way more important than any Comic Con cosplay of a fictional character will ever be or has ever been, which probably influences my opinion on cosplay. When I think "fake facial differences", I'm reminded of horror villains with make-up that tries and fails to imitate how visibly disabled people look like. I associate fake scars and fake burns and fake skull shapes with this problem strongly, and as you can guess I don't like it at all. I find the authenticity argument hard to believe for myself when what is usually originally portrayed is an abomination of VFX designed to make us look scary; for most of these characters there is nothing good coming out of their "FD representation" anyway. If Freddy Krueger magically started to be shown as abled I'd be glad, not mad that the character who genuinely horribly affected how people from my community are seen is no longer doing that.

This might be a radical take, but most existing characters with facial differences literally shouldn't have them. The way they are portrayed shapes how people are seen for the worse and if I had a "disability erasure" button for all the Scars and Voldemorts out there I'd make them as abled as possible.

Is this how all people with facial differences feel? I don't think I can go and ask each of them but definitely no, it's just the opinion of A Guy on the Internet (many such cases!) and rather than anything else I just want to share my view on stuff, so askers can hopefully make a more informed decision - whether that's writing, drawing, cosplay, etc. If someone reads my take and decides that they want to do the opposite, at least they have a bit of context on how some people might feel about it, and I think that's still valuable.

This is my opinion on this and I hope this clears it up more,

mod Sasza

[honeygrahambitch]

Summary: Hannibal and Will question whether they are overprotective when it comes to their daughter.

Hannibal watched the blueberry jam boil softly in the pot and added two more spoons of sugar. Will entered the kitchen just as he was stirring.

"Smells good." He commented and grabbed the spoon from Hannibal, earning a scolding yet playful glance. "Where's Maeve?" He asked while tasting the soon-to-be-blueberry-jam.

"Still in the garden. I was supposed to help her catch butterflies but she clearly figured it out by herself." Hannibal replied and nodded towards one of the kitchen counters.

Five jars were aligned, each of them containing around two or three poor butterflies.

"That's impressive. Make sure to tell her they escaped by the time they die." Will said.

"Hopefully they don't die too soon, she said she was grabbing them a snack from the garden."

"I'm surprised you are fine with the bugs in your precious kitchen."

"She asked me to keep them company and I couldn't say no." Hannibal smiled. "You know, Will, I was thinking...are we doing what we are supposed to be doing? When that poor bird died we told her that she flew back to her family. When the squirrel died, we told her she found herself a better tree."

"Nah, it's fine. She is six, she shouldn't be worried about stuff like death. It needs more sugar." He said as he handed the spoon back to Hannibal.

"Only if I was trying to induce someone a diabetic coma." Hannibal commented, still thinking about the previous subject. "I sometimes wonder if we are overprotective but then I convince myself that I would rather have that than any other outcome. Isn't it the least damaging mistake we could make?"

"That's right, doctor." Will said as he wrapped his arms around Hannibal's middle, hugging him from behind. He rested his head on Hannibal's shoulder, watching the blueberry jam. "What were you saying about that bottle of wine?"

"Maybe later we could..." Hannibal started seductively but was interrupted by Maeve who excitedly burst into the kitchen, taking aback both of them.

"I brought them a snack!"

"That's amazing." Will said awkwardly after immediately stepping away from Hannibal. "So, did you get to name all of them?" He mumbled awkwardly.

"Are we really naming every creature?" Hannibal asked while innocently going back to his stirring. "Every time you name a bug, I am no longer allowed to...set it free."

Will's glance was what made him avoid the word "kill".

"I mean, Jeremy the bathroom spider hasn't hurt anyone." Will replied.

"Yet."

"I think there are too many to find names for all of them." Maeve said thoughtfully. "Help me feed them."

"Yes, you both go outside and do that. I don't want butterflies lurking around my blueberry jam."

"It would give it a special crunch." Will suggested making Maeve squeak. Hannibal arched an eyebrow that only added to Will's amusement.

Will's cheerful expression vanished in a second.

"What's that?" Was all he could mutter, his tone drawing Hannibal's attention too.

A drip of blood went down Maeve's forehead, reaching the bridge of her nose. She was just as confused so she reached out to it with her little hand. She was in fact more scared by her dads' reactions than the actual wound.

"When did you get hurt?" Will asked as he knelt on the floor and brushed her hair away, immediately followed by Hannibal.

"I think it was a twig-"

"Does it hurt, baby?" Hannibal followed carefully carefully turning her head so he could get a better glimpse.

"No. I'm okay-"

"What if it's getting infected?"

"What if she hit her head and will get a concussion? Baby, do you know what day is today?"

"Tues-"

"Do you think she will need stitches?"

"Maeve, don't be scared, it's nothing."

She knew from previous experiences that it was best to let them do their thing. Bomb her with questions, think about the most absurd causes and consequences. Then she would help the calm down.

"It doesn't even hurt-"

"It's probably the shock." Hannibal concluded.

"Did you get any other bruises? Let's lie down for a few minutes."

As if seeing them in utter shock was the most amusing thing, Maeve wiped the blood on her forehead with the back of her hand and smiled. "Now it's fixed. And the scratch is matching dad's. Can we feed the butterflies now?"

Blood didn't stop but was a lot less abundant this time.

Will and Hannibal sighed and looked at each other.

"No stitches. For now." Hannibal declared.

"It was worse when dad got his hand stuck in the meat grinder machine. I'm okay."

"He made quite a scene, didn't he?" Hannibal asked and earned a glance that screamed "fuck you" from Will.

They were, in fact, overprotective. Hannibal scolded himself for their reaction. He should have known better than to scare a child. Not that she looked scared. He didn't exclude the concussion possibility just yet but smiled when he saw Will's expression soften. He was probably thinking about the same thing.

"I can start listing the periodic table of elements if you are still worried. From the end to the beginning. Atomic mass included. But my butterflies are really starving."

"That's fine." Will said as he got up and grabbed two of the jars. "Let's go feed these weirdos."

"Just be careful." Hannibal said and kissed her forehead.

"I will. However I would be more worried about your blueberry jam. It's overflowing."