#actually he can make it worse but i digress

[uncreative-cryptid]

brain itchy wants to leave skull it has so many thoughts on ocs and story stuff i am dying here i have no mouth and i must scream kinda ass feeling right now

[bomber-grl]

Kusuo Saiki Dating Headcanons

Pairing(s): Kusuo Saiki x Gn!Reader

It takes a really long time to get to the point where the two of you are dating. Like 100,000,000 words, slow burn, they finally kiss at the end– sort of fanfic. Honestly, I think Saiki’s a bit hesitant about relationships in general because they seem like a hassle. Everyone else is on thin ice already, the thought of putting effort into a relationship is exhausting enough.

Like with everyone else, he’s pretty indifferent toward you at first, and you only move up to "mild annoyance" status if you stick around long enough. Especially since he’s probably hearing all your thoughts, so there’s that.

Now, onto the actual headcanons. Saiki isn’t exactly the affectionate type. You two probably started as friends, mostly with you bothering him. Even after he realizes he likes you (though he really tries to hide it), nothing changes much. The difference is, you’re the only person he seems to tolerate. Everyone else wonders why you even bother with him.

Sometimes, Saiki gets... freaked out? There’s really no other way to put it. He’s used to being around people who are idiots, so when someone like you comes along—someone who’s rather perceptive—that’s a bit much for him. It messes with his head. Despite being able to hear your every thought, he starts wondering if you’re psychic too.

You can tell what he’s feeling, what he wants, and even do things for him. Sure, he could do all those things tenfold in just under a minute, but for some reason, he finds himself smiling. He even starts thinking fondly of you.

If you were another Nendou, though? He’d probably avoid you, and your relationship would be a slow burn that takes another 100,000,000 words and even worse edging (Not like that). But I digress. Saiki shows affection in subtle ways. Like remembering offhand comments you’ve made about your favorite snack or color.

He’s the type of guy who’ll subtly push your chair out of the way when you’re about to trip or pick up a dropped pen without you asking. He might not say much, but he’ll do whatever he can to make your life a little easier, even if he doesn’t directly tell you that.

I know it might sound like I’m painting him as a deadbeat bf, but honestly? He’d probably be a great boyfriend. He can literally hear your thoughts. He knows what you want, even before you say it. He’s seen (and heard) men ruin their relationships because they thought they knew their partner. So, when you want to grab a treat or have been wanting something that relates to an interest, he’ll know.

He’ll also know (and hear) if you slightly even think he’s good looking on a particular day. He’ll never admit it, of course, but if you get embarrassed thinking about it (since you know he can hear your thoughts), he secretly enjoys that. Seeing you flustered is one of his guilty pleasures—even though he’d never show it.

And yeah, Saiki’s protective. He won’t say it, and he won’t make a big show of it like other people would, but he does care. If something’s bothering you, he’ll subtly step in. Like if someone’s making you uncomfortable, he’ll use his telekinesis to, throw something at them or trip them up—whatever works, as long as no one knows it was him.

He doesn’t like people messing with you, and he won’t hesitate to shut them down, even if he keeps it minimal to avoid drawing attention to himself.

In this following scenario you're another Nendou. He hardly ever gets surprised. I mean, hearing everyone’s thoughts kind of ruins surprises, spoilers for a new tv show, honestly anything for him. But maybe—just maybe—the only way to startle or fluster him is by turning the tables on that. Maybe it’s the first time you show affection in your relationship.

Saiki’s not big on physical touch– we all know that much. If you want to hug him, go ahead, but he’ll probably just stand there like a statue. So, let’s say you somehow convince him to come over to your place, and then you, attempted subtly, suggest that you kiss him out of nowhere.

He’d choke on his drink and immediately try to cover it up. Forget not hearing your thoughts, he literally didn’t think you’d want to kiss him anytime soon. He won’t show it (obviously) but deep down, he’s definitely a little shaken.

Now, in the chance that you two do kiss, (which is chapters later– in fanfiction terms) he’s very hesitant? Like sure, he can destroy the entire Earth if he even wanted to but the idea is still startling. He thinks it over and once he agrees (which is the only kiss you’ll get until the next blue moon) he is admittedly worried.

He’s never kissed anyone, he never planned to so he tries to be collected like he always is. If a satellite suddenly went offline somewhere in space, well that’s nothing to do with him.

Also, an extra that isn’t a dating hc is that Saikis mom and dad love you so much, his dad literally asked if you were actually real which earned a side eye from Saiki. It does get annoying for Saiki, but he’s pretty glad you all get along.

[ghostgirl-22]

Art getting GANGBANGED💜

This made me giggle when you sent it anon, I won’t lie <3 Then I thought oh god now I have to write it. So here you are. I am so sorry for this. I don’t know what this is (it’s quite nonsensical). Honestly, feel like I flew too close to the sun. I need to retire from writing smut and start writing an older Art living peacefully by the sea. (Decide if that makes you want to read it or run away) But I digress…

CW: 18+ !NSFW! EXPLICIT bimbofication, feminization, objectification, D/s vibes if you squint, there can be the perception of CNC but I promise you everyone really wants this, especially blondie, but please avoid if things like gangbangs trigger you. Can feel a bit AU…let’s be generous and say canon drift…

Your reference is this post about a negligée (an impossible word to spell btw so watch me fuck it up repeatedly along with all my other spelling and grammar mistakes).

—-

It’s a game of truth or dare. That’s how the whole thing happens.

Regular and completely normal Friday night. Patrick’s visiting Stanford. The girls team is at an away game, traveling back tomorrow and the boys just finished a tournament playing the same team here and Art sends him a text.

Hanging out with friends probably gonna play video games, you should come and bring drinks.

And then 10 minutes later: I think my roommate wants to fuck me lol

Patrick has to laugh because this is actually the kind of stupid thing that could only happen to Art.

Art is already dizzy and flirty when Patrick arrives at his dorm with the alcohol. His cheeks are already coloring, his eyes are dilated. And it’s no wonder because he’s already getting way too much attention. There are three other boys in the bedroom with him, his roommate Carter who Patrick could tell, so very obviously wanted to fuck Art since he first met him. But it’s worse now ever since he woke up once in the middle of night and heard Patrick doing it.

And then two others Patrick doesn’t know but Art calls them Jamie and Max, “friends” from the Stanford tennis team. Patrick clocks them right away as having the same desire to fuck Art that Carter has.

That kind of male attention makes Art go silly. At this point Art doesn’t even need a drink. He’s half lost, giggling at things that aren’t even funny just because some cute boy is touching his knee, pinching his cheek, calling him pretty. Patrick’s hard immediately.

It’s truth or dare, Carter’s idea, and Patrick’s probably drinking too much. The game gets nasty pretty quickly. Art can’t sit still, he’s on his hands and knees when Max says “I dare you to kiss me.” Can’t stop himself when Jamie dares him to do it again, but with tongue. He’s in his t-shirt and boxers, ass sticking out as he crawls over Patrick’s lap to kiss Jamie. Carter’s adjusting himself, mouth open, staring at it. Patrick thinks once or twice about letting them pass him around. Shit like this is usually foreplay for him but right now he’s feeling so buzzed he might just want to see how deep this rabbit hole goes.

He’s horny as fuck, but his brain doesn’t actually break until Art’s roommate says, “Truth or Dare, roomie, is it true you stole your ex-girlfriend's lingerie?"

“I didn’t steal it,” Art hiccups, he’s distracted because Max runs his fingers through Art’s hair on his way back to the circle, with a new drink which he hands to Art. He cups Arts cheek, fingertips brush against his lips. Art’s whining “stop it,” but Patrick sees the way he follows the touch. Art doesn’t even notice it when Patrick takes the drink out of his hand, because he’s dangerously close to spilling it everywhere. He’s not even drunk, barely even tipsy and still just so empty headed.

Carter goes to Art’s Stanford issued dresser and pulls out this thing from the first drawer. Barely a thing. A pink little slip of a thing. “What’s this?”

“She let me have it,” Art says, voice pitched too high. He’s sitting on his knees, hands pressed between his thighs.

”Why?” Carter asks, like he knows something they don’t know. Patrick thinks he likes him the least.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” Art says, it’s too whiny and playful.

Patrick’s mildly annoyed now, “Share with the class,” he says. He doesn’t really want Art keeping secrets with roommates that aren’t him.

Art goes all compliant and he’s squirming on the floor as he looks at Patrick, “She said it looked better on me.”

Both Max and Jamie start snickering.

Patrick thinks of himself as a genius. He generally thinks he’s the smartest person in the room most of the time, but this has to be one of the smartest things he’s ever said or done ever. In ever. “Okay…I dare you to try it on.”

“You want me too?” Art asks, glassy eyed, as he gazes at Patrick.

Patrick grabs at his t-shirt and he doesn’t even have to pull. Art just gravitates towards him, closing his eyes, parting his lips instinctively and Patrick thinks he’s in love with him. Like one day he’ll probably marry him, move him into a house with a white picket fence and fuck him so full of come that… etcetera etcetera. The American dream.

“Yeah, put it on sweetie.” Patrick says gently. “Call me when you’re done… I want to see it first.”

Art licks his lips and opens his eyes again before he stumbles to his feet. He tries to take it from Carter but Carter hides it behind his back which means Art’s got to reach around him, touch him, play with him. When Art manages to get it away he’s already blushing. He goes in the bathroom, telling them no one better laugh. And Patrick needs a cigarette. Needs to run a marathon or climb a mountain for all the pent up energy inside him right now.

“You his boyfriend or something?” Max asks, curiously.

“Or something,” Patrick says. Truth is Art only started putting out after he found out Tashi was. And as long as Patrick has wanted to fuck Art he’s never really stopped to think about why Art chose now. Patrick isn’t picky. He’s not picky at all. He’ll fuck Art, he’ll fuck Tashi, he’d fuck them both at the same time if they wanted it.

“Can you share?” Carter asks.

Patrick shrugs, “I think I have been.”

“No I mean really share,” Carter says and he stares at the bathroom door.

Patrick smirks. “I think I need another drink.”

He can hear Art calling for him and when he taps the door to let himself in he’s pretty sure that’s the moment— the exact moment— his brain fully and completely short circuits. From that point forward he’s actually an entirely different person.

“It’s just too…” Art whines, unable to think. He’s sitting on the toilet lid bouncing his leg. The blush goes everywhere. Down his chest to the pink lacy teddy. It fits like a glove. It’s hugging his waist, see through sheer fabric over his chest embroidered with with some kind of threading that would barely hide his tits if he had any. Patrick can clearly see his nipples, taut and erect through the sheer fabric. It’s not the only part of him that’s erect. The equally sheer lace panties underneath the negligée are straining to keep him contained and he’s fucking soaking the lace with precum, so wet, Patrick thinks, leaking through his panties like a fucking girl.

Patrick thinks he’s gonna fuck him right there. Pull him on his lap and go fucking crazy.

“Patrick I—I wanna— I need—“ he stammers, helpless. He’s gone full, if I only had a brain.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Patrick says, swallowing thickly. “I know what you need. Come here.”

Art’s still bouncing his leg, he’s got pretty legs, soft and smooth and toned and so long. Still in his nearly knee high white socks. Fucking slut. Patrick guides him to his feet, and immediately Art’s wrapping his arms around Patrick. Patrick can feel the way he’s starting to rub himself along Patrick’s thigh. The wet hot heat of him. Patrick shoves Art up against the wall to stop him and he takes a deep breath, coming to the distant realization that he’s actually shivering. “Can you hear me?” Patrick asks, probably trying to calm himself down more than anything else.

Art nods.

“You hear my voice?”

“Mmhm. Patrick—- Patrick please I need—“

“I know. You need to be fucked, don’t you baby?” Patrick’s not sure what he’s saying but Art just moans. “Fuck. You don’t even care who fucking does it. You’d let anybody in right now.” Patrick continues.

Art is nodding his head. ”Mm, yes Patrick please, please, please—” he groans, begging, pleading. For one terrifying minute Patrick thinks he’s gonna get on his knees in that slutty little slip and break Patrick forever. His eyes are all glassy and wet and he’s trying to get friction, attention, something, his blonde curls falling into his eyes.

“Oh fuck it, come on,” Patrick says and he opens the door. Art walks timidly into the bedroom. Patrick stays a second longer to look for the lube under the counter and finds a box of unopened condoms too. The second he stayed was too long. Carter’s already got Art pressed up against the wall, tongue in his mouth, Jamie’s got his hands inside the fabric of the negligée, rubbing his nipples like he’s got a full set of tits or something. Max is watching, touching himself, idly over his boxers.

The whole time Art’s moaning helplessly moving his hips. Needy like he’s in heat. Patrick makes them wear a condom if they want him. And holy fuck do they want him.

Patrick starts it first on the bed, pulls Art on his lap just to get him wet, get him loose. He’s careful about it. Art’s so horny he’s trying to lose it quickly so Patrick has to grab onto him, slow him down. Even him out.

“Fuck,” Art’s whining, mindlessly. “Fuck, Patrick it’s so big. It’s so big. It’s so fucking… much.”

Patrick’s rubbing his tummy through the fabric, he’s flexed so tight, barely breathing. Patrick moves up to brush his nipples and he moans.

“Hey gorgeous, you wanna try this?” Max whispers, pressing his cock to Art’s lips. “I dare you.”

Art doesn’t need the dare. He takes it in his mouth eagerly. Patrick can feel him squeezing, clenching, grinding as he sucks on it… can feel the overwhelming heat of his tight little body. Patrick grips him tighter to steady him. “Take your time,” Patrick whispers.

He’s taking so much in his mouth. Max starts groaning, “Oh fuck. Yeah, take your time gorgeous, holy shit.”

Patrick kisses on his throat where he’s swallowing and tries to coax him off. If he stays inside much longer he’s going to lose his mind and that’s the last thing he needs right now. They need at least one working brain between them.

Art’s breathing heavy when he opens his mouth, drool spilling everywhere. Patrick pushes him to get up and Carter grabs him next. He pushes him on the bed on his hands and knees and goes to town, so eager he barely lasts. As Carter’s fucking him Art is licking Jamie’s cock, and then swallowing on Max’s, occassionally both at the same time. Patrick is sitting on the other twin bed, trying his best not to lose it untouched for how fucking hot this is. Art is so far gone Patrick wonders if he even realizes how much of a fucking mess he is.

He’s got it all over him, hands, tongues, cock. They’re all kissing, touching, putting fingers in his hair, in his mouth, in his ass. Jamie and Carter both fighting to get a turn. Jamie fucking him till he’s coming, hot sticky ropes of it dripping, dripping slowly from his soaked panties onto the bed. He’s overstimulated taking Max, but he doesn’t stop. He’s pushing back on it, moaning in a way that sounds like he’s vacillating between pleasure and pain.

Carter starts kissing him and eventually Arts just moaning into his mouth.

“You’re so goddamn pretty,” Jamie’s cooing, jerking himself. “Gonna make me wanna nut again, fuck.”

Art’s making pleasure sounds only now. His cock filling up again just a few minutes before Max is finishing inside him.

“Shit, that felt so fucking good,” Max breathes. Art looks around dizzy as Max pulls out and starts tying the condom off. And then Carter’s on him, kissing him again, so he sits up and crawls into Carter’s arms so he can be held. But Patrick grabs him by the waist.

“My turn, come here, princess,” Patrick says, teasingly, pulling him back onto the second bed. His bed.

“Patrick—I think I— I need to—“ Art’s climbing onto him all doe eyed and wet, wet lips, wet eyes, wet with sweat and come and lube. The lingerie falling off one shoulder and his pretty pink nipple just exposed. Patrick nibbles at it gently.

“Patrick,” Art whines.

“You wanna come?” Patrick asks softly. His voice doesn’t sound like his own. He pulls Art onto his lap and eases himself inside and Art’s moving right away. He feels looser than Patrick’s ever felt him before but he’s still so nice and warm, and too fucking tight for him. He’s not ever to be trusted alone with boys, Patrick decides. Not boys like this at least. He just barely gets Art over the finish line when he’s losing it. It’s not even 5 minutes and he’s losing it. Does it raw just to spill it all inside him. If Patrick had something to prove he might be embarrassed but he is the one holding onto Art in the end, soothing him. Calming him down as he comes back to reality and in that reality Art is his…even if Patrick is more than willing to share when Art needs it.

When the other boys have left and Carter’s in the shower and they’re finally alone together Art is mostly back to himself. They’re eating leftover pizza and watching Sports Center. Art is devouring his, probably starving after using all of that energy. Patrick tangles his fingers into Art's hair, it’s still a little damp from the shower.

“Truth or dare,” Patrick says

“Truth,” Art says, his mouth half full.

Patrick sighs. “I don’t know what that was but you’re fucking beautiful.”

Art turns to look at Patrick with a little smirk, still chewing. “I know.”

“And you can’t ever do that when I’m not there.”

“I know,” Art says again.

“So I’m keeping the lingerie.”

Art shrugs, “I know.”

“Okay know it all,” Patrick gazes back at him and then takes the rest of the pizza crust out of his hand, smiling as he takes a bite. “Good.”

[bookiezzz]

Laios, Marcille, Chilchuck, and Falin when reader has a headache

authors’ note: i have a headache/migraineish rn but it’s digressing so ill write baby!! meant to be romantic! hcs

Laios

— Laios probably doesn’t pick up if it’s a bad headache super quick.

— “Aw, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he’ll say, glancing back at you

— If you just nod, he won’t think anything of it unless you bring it up again.

— If you say you’re in pain again, he’ll stop and pay more attention.

— “Is there anything I can do that would ease the pain?”

— Laios will try to help you, maybe..cook… for you…

— Let you rest, give you ice, let you take a nap, etc. if it’s a debilitating headache

— 100+ points Laois, very nice <3

— He’ll keep checking up on you and make sure you’re feeling 100% okay before you resume any activity that may make it worse.

Marcille

— Marcille my wife

— If you’re sitting or walking around with shut eyes or hands on your head, she’ll probably observe that

— And if it continues, she’ll go ahead and ask, “Are you feeling okay?” Putting the back of her hand to your forehead.

— Whether you insist you’re fine or say you’re hurting a bit, she’ll sit you down and just sit with you,, she’ll let you sit in her arms, closing your eyes, anything

— marcille is so “have you ate or drank water”

— if the answer is no then she orders the chef (senshi) to cook you something!!

— And gets you a water bottle

— If it’s super bad, I think she would probably be able to use a bit of healing magic on you.

Chilchuck

— chucklefuck

— “Chilchuck, my head is really hurting..”

— “Suck it up, buttercup”

— VINE BOOM

— no kidding he would actually say that

— probably not being super mean but he would definitely say it

— If you keep bringing it up or are like visibly deflating he’ll silently hand you a water bottle

— “Drink up, it’ll help”

— If it’s to the point you like can’t function because of pain he’ll suggest maybe resting for a bit.

— “If you’re so in pain you can’t do anything, why not lie down? It’ll only help.”

— If you pester him maybe he’ll lie down with youu..

Falin

— Falin is very observant, always watching and coming up with solutions

— She’ll hold your hand and list some ways that maybe, just maybe will give you some relief

— I think she would also be able to use some healing magic like Marcille

— If it’s getting progressively worse, Falin hugs you and sits you down

— she explains that she can’t let you keep going if you’re just being put in more pain

— She’ll shut the lights off, lie you down, and have you rest!

— “Sweet dreams~” from Falin

— She promises when you wake up, you’ll be well rested, feeling better, and she’ll be waiting <3

[risestarkiss]

Being Purple ○ Part Two

Rise Ramblings #315

Previous | Being Purple ○ Part One This post is a continuation, so I recommend reading Part One before reading this Part Two. ••••

We’ve talked about what Donatello was and his role in the family.

But, we never examined why. Why is Donnie so gung ho on physically providing for his family?

Well, to understand why he feels that way, we need to go back to the beginning. After Splinter and the turtles were mutated, Yoshi was obviously unable to access any of the funds or resources he held as Lou Jitsu due to, you know, him now being a giant rat. He had to start life a new from the bottom of society.

We don’t know what happened during their time on the streets, but we can make some inferences as to what happened next. Splinter eventually moved the boys down into the sewers and was able find a comfortable space for himself and his little family.

Here is where I’m going to try my best to piece together the order of events regarding Donatello’s earliest contributions. I’ll be using two episodes: the season one finale, “End Game,” and the Nick web exclusive mini-episode, “Turtle Tots.”

In Turtle Tots, the family has gathered in Splinter’s room. We can also see the den through Splinter’s doorway. This home is, indeed, the home that we are familiar with in the show. Thus, we now know that at this age the boys were already living in the sewers. We also know that the den has already been outfitted with a tv, electricity, and probably some kind of cable hookup.

Is it possible that Splints did this electrical work all on his own? “End Game” gives us a clue that can lead us to an answer.

Here he is, the boy of the hour. In this picture, given the perspective, young Donnie is much shorter than Splinter. Their heights here are actually comparable to their height difference in the “Turtle Tots” clip. Therefore, I believe it’s fair to conclude that Donatello is about the same height in both instances, and likewise, relatively the same age.  

Given that new piece of information, now we can speculate further.

When you look at the room that crying Dondon is in, he’s surrounded by wires, batteries, boxes, and what appears to be little bits of tech that he was working on, hence the booboo. There’s a small rotary plane of some sort, a tiny workbench, and other bits and pieces. So, we can deduce that Donnie is familiar with electrical work and is building things for himself, even at this young age.

Donatello is already cooking.

With that evidence, I believe it’s reasonable to surmise that Donatello had a hand in hooking the den up with a refurbished TV and in wiring the house with electricity, which is such a big job for such a little guy.  

If it had stopped there, I wouldn’t bring it up, but as we can plainly see…

It never stopped. His labors are endless. Everything from the turtles’ transportation, their living space, and their comforts at home was created, built, enhanced, and refurbished by Donatello. Consequently, he internalized the idea that his usefulness equated to the safety and security of his family. And that’s just how he lived his life.

He doesn’t know any different, and I’m sure at this point he wouldn’t want any different. This is his role. This is his place. Besides, his beneficence makes his brothers happy, and his father happy, and by extension it makes him happy.

Hence, his “gift giving” love language.

If Donnie is happy, then where’s the problem?

I’m sorry, but external validation as a primary source of happiness, or even worse, as a source of self-esteem, is dangerous…

But I digress…

From the outside looking in, it’s easy to assume that his genius is best utilized as a tool for the team’s benefit. But as a child, the weight of ensuring their entire family’s physical infrastructure is a large burden to bear…and it is almost the exact definition of Instrumental Parentification.

Parentification is a process in which a role reversal occurs where the child or adolescent is obligated to act as a parent would to their siblings or to their actual parent. Instrumental Parentification involves a child assuming the responsibilities of maintaining a household through physical means. In this case, Donatello literally maintains the household.

I’ve said all of that to say this.

Donatello has been subjected to Instrumental Parentification for almost his entire life. He doesn’t know life without providing for his family, but he’s happiest when his family is comfortable and safe.

So when we ask, why does Donatello make these sacrifices for his family, the answer is obvious. Love. And that answer reigns true in the past, present, and future…

Anyways, Donatello is such a complex and intriguing character, I could go on about him forever. But I think this as good a place as any to put a pin in my deep dive on this fiery little grape, because our next dive’s focus is on the true pinnacle of the Hamato clan…

○○○○

Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One

Next | Orange, Baby!

Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi

[beenbaanbuun]

misunderstandings w/ san

words - some

genre - fluff/angst with a dash of nsfw but not smut

warnings - horny!san, soft!san, sad!reader, misunderstandings, san in grey sweatpants, mentions of sex, no actual sex/sexual acts, reader speaks in riddles and expects san to understand

it’s no surprise to anyone that san likes to be cosy and comfy

we’ve all seen that fuzzy great sweater that he always wears

that thing looks like it would send me to sleep within seconds of putting it on, but i digress…

another item of clothing he keeps close to his heart is sweat pants, more specifically grey ones

he says they’re just comfy, but you know exactly why he wears them

they cling to his thighs so nicely and leave very little to the imagination

sometimes just seeing him in them is enough to drive you insane

it’s even worse if he takes a shower before putting them on, because 9 times out of 10, that man is not putting underwear on with them

a shirt is also optional… apparently san just doesn’t like the way they feel when his skin is damp

personally, you think san just does it because he knows it drives you crazy

in fact, there’s been more than a few times when you’ve texted san throughout your day at work about how much you miss him

and shown up at the end of the day with him on your couch, just like that; half naked with sopping wet hair

and whilst ‘i miss you’ usually is just code for ‘i’m horny’, sometimes it just means you’re having a bad day and want to hold him close for the rest of the day

either way, you don’t mind showing up to your house with a half naked san on your couch

you’re about to get the best dick of your life, or incredibly soft cuddles

it all depends on your response to his obvious advances, although sometimes he isn’t the best at taking hints

“you’re home,” he opens his arms the moment you walk through the door, as if asking for a hug

you’re more than happy to oblige, dumping your bag on the floor and letting your tired body collapse onto his

it had been a frustrating day to say the least

your coworker had been off so her work had been passed to you, despite the fact that no one person would be able to do all of that by themselves

still, the boss expected it whether you complained or not

saying you were drained was an understatement

as your body connects with san’s, he grunts, but catches you effortlessly

“fucking hell, babe,” he squeezes you gently as he holds you to his chest, “careful, yeah?”

you nod half heartedly into the damp skin of his neck

“you’re naked,” you deadpan, snuggling into his warmth a little

you know what it means, but you haven’t quite decided whether that’s what you want or not

maybe sex would take your mind off the day behind you

or maybe it would overstimulate you and send you spiralling… who’s to know!

“hardly,” he replies, “i have my sweatpants on…”

“and what are the chances of there being something underneath,” you wait for his response, but he stays silent which tells you everything you need to know

not that you need any confirmation; you can feel his hardening dick pressing against your thigh

you decide then and there that no, sex definitely would not be the best option

the thought alone of the ache that would follow is enough to make you decide that you certainly could not handle it right now

“it’s covered, is it not?” he finally says through pouted lips

you sit up fully and look at him with a fed-up expression, hoping he gets the message

you’d never been too good at saying no to people

something along the lines of not wanting to disappoint people

usually you just dropped hints and hoped for the best; san usually understood sooner or later

“it’s rock hard against my leg, san,” you scoff, “i don’t think your sweatpants are going to stop me from feeling that…”

he shrugs with a smirk

“that sounds like a you problem,” he says, which is actually factually incorrect, “maybe you should do something to sort it out…”

you can’t help but sigh at his inability to take any sort of hint

“or maybe, you can take yourself up to the bathroom and get rid of the problem yourself!”

it’s more obvious that the glare you gave him previously

still, the smirk remains as though you’re just teasing him

he shakes his head with a grin

“but you’re literally right here,” he whines, “and the bathroom is all the way upstairs…”

“i’m not in the mood to ache right now, sannie,” you once again, drop a hint that he, once again, completely disregards

in fact your statement makes him smile, clearly happy with what your statement implies about how good he fucks you usually

“i’ll be gentle?”

“san!” you scold, frustrated that your rock-headed boyfriend can’t seem to understand that whether or not he was rough was not the issue here

“i’m just saying,” he puts his hands up defensively

you look down at him with tired eyes, frustrated tears forming in the corners as you grow tired of throwing hint after hint at him

as much as you hated saying ‘no’ so bluntly, you settle on the fact that you might have to

“san,” you start, taking a deep sigh to calm your nerves, “i’m trying to tell you that i don’t want to have sex right now.”

you have to force yourself to look at him

even though you know that he’ll be more than fine with that fact, you can’t help but feel a little guilty about it

and when you look up at him, you can’t help not notice that his face falls a little

not that he’s upset at you not wanting sex, he’s just upset that he clearly misread the situation

and maybe he feels a little (a lot) guilty for pushing so hard when, now that he thinks back on it, you actually weren’t that interested

“oh, baby,” he mumbles softly as he moves his hands to rest against your thighs that sit either side of hips, “bad kind of ‘i miss you’, huh?”

you nod

“the bad kind,” you respond with a shrug, as if you’re trying to pass it off as nothing

but of course, gentleman san would never let that happen

because your emotions are never nothing

“you should’ve told me straight away,” he scolds gently, “or maybe i should’ve asked…” he frowns, “either way, if i’d have known i’d never have pushed so hard… you know that, right?”

you nod ever so slightly

of course you should’ve told him straight away, but again, saying no is hard for you and the ever present fear of disappointment hangs over your head like a rain cloud

and while you were positive that nothing you did could ever disappoint san, there was still something in the back of your brain that told you otherwise

“of course i know that, sannie,” you pout, “but you know me…”

“hm, i do know you,” he mutters as he rubs gentle circles into your thighs, “and i know how scary saying no is, but it’s just me.”

just san… it’s just san

you nod, understanding exactly what he means

there’s no external judgement, or any judgement at all for that matter, because it’s just san

and san doesn’t care about these things

san just wants to make you happy and if sex wouldn’t make you happy, then san would happy live with blue balls for the night

you nod again, more enthusiastic this time

“it’s just you,” you give him a small smile, which he returns without even a second passing

“there’s that pretty smile,” he coos before shifting his hands to your waist and tugging you gently until you’re lay flat against his chest once more

and you’re happy to just lie there in silence as san trails his fingers up and down your spine to soothe you

he’s not asked about your day yet, and he probably won’t for a while, content to sit in silence and love you for now

and you’re content too

very content

[bonefall]

As someone with P-DID(Partial DID. I still have headmates but I can't really hand the body over to them) I am so fucking concerned about Moonpaw. I don't like the idea that she has DID because she's a chimera, that's not how it works, and I don't like the idea of them demonizing chimeras(I am not one myself though I just think we should all dislike that)

But I'm also super concerned because people aren't acknowledging how ableist this is. The voice is stated in the blurb to be sinister and people are ignoring that. I even saw someone say "It's not plurality it's a SPIRITUAL thing" and like. That's not any better. You know that's not better right? It still promotes the idea that hearing voices is always Bad and chimeras murder their siblings.

Idk I'm just super worried.

It's difficult to get through to certain folks on "Why This Is Bad" because most people don't have an understanding of non-overt bigotry.

Guy calling you a slur on the bus? That is overt. It's obvious. It makes "sense" to an observer that he is threatening you, by calling you to attention, trying to provoke a reaction. It's less overt when, say, you're stimming on the bus and that same guy starts huffing and growling in discomfort, but they can still follow the logic that Bus Guy's behavior towards you is altered based on his prejudice.

But they'll have a hard time making that final leap-- that Bus Guy's idea of your disorder is tied to something harmful.

My stims tend to be facial (blinking rapidly, scrunching face, shaking head, etc), but even without the classic "hand flapping," Bus Guy will tie these traits to unpredictability, "weirdness," or stupidity. If we weren't just on the bus and this man had power over me in some way, like if he was my teacher, or boss, or even a coworker, his assumptions about me would influence my life negatively.

Then, of course, multiply Bus Guy by the entire bus full of people and their social biases, and this is how systemic problems are perpetuated without a single person exercising overt bigotry.

THAT is why "Sinister Voice In Head" is a harmful stereotype. In Bus Guy's mind, a link is being formed; Voices = Make You Bad.

Just like how it doesn't actually matter if the "stupid character" is stimming because they're autistic or not, it's still reinforcing that bias. "Spiritual Thing" or not, she is being negatively influenced by Evil Sinister Voice.

Worse; there's barely any counter examples-- no humanizing portrayals of how stimming can help you focus, no discussion of real problems some stimming can cause (skin picking can be really destructive for example), no honest stories of what living with a difficult headmate truly feels like, etc.

...Digressing. My hand on your shoulder, Nonnie. It's gonna be ok.

Even if it is WORST case scenario, total catastrophe... this isn't the first or last time that headmates are handled badly in media. Remember; cultural bias is ingrained in people the same way that canyons are carved. Slowly, steadily, over many examples and many years, lapping away at rock that is already wet.

One more bad example is just another drop in that wave. It will not bring the wall down. It's worth concern! It's worrying, I know! We can do something about it.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Misogyny in the fandom: let's talk about it

Not gonna lie, the level of interalized or even just blatant misogyny in this fandom is really disheartening sometimes. There is already VERY few female characters in the book, even fewer with speaking roles, and yet I see all of them being hated on in some way. People hate on Cherry for standing up for herself when Dally was harrasing her, and for not seeing Johnny in the hospital, which bullshit to begin with but also, you can't tell me that if the roles were reversed and Cherry sat down behind Dallas and starting talking about how stupid and classless greaser boys are, and Dally threw a coke at her, that the fandom wouldn't love him all the more for it. People hold her to this impossible golden standard, expecting her to literally be perfect instead of a conflicted and grieving teenage girl, when they embrace the flaws and give a lot more grace to much more violent and 'bad' male characters. It's a very 'boys will be boys' and 'girls mature fatser so they should know better' double standard that I really can't stand. Marcia gets a level of the same treatment, with people occasionally calling her vapid or shallow when the book makes it clear she and Two-bit actually really hit it off, and the number she gave him being fake was only Two and Ponyboy's speculation. But I digress. Moving on.

Misogyny and classism intersect when it comes to the few female greaser characters we get a little insight on. So many people LOATHE both Sandy and Sylvia because they're cheaters, but honestly, how is cheating worse than stealing? (And don't pretend they steal because they need to survive Ponyboy makes a point of claiming Two-bit doesn't really need or want half the stuff he shoplifts) How is it worse than jumping little kids? How is it worse than sexually harassing girls? How is it worse than the plethora of immoral or illegal activities the greaser guys partake in? If we're being 100% honest, it isn't. "But-but Sandy cheated on Soda, who really loved her". Yeah, she did. That was shitty of her, I'm not defending that, but she was also a sixteen year old girl in a tough situation she was trying to navigate the best she could. She could have lied and told Soda it was his and trapped him in a marriage raising a kid he definitely couldn't afford if she wanted to- but she didn't. Hell, she told him the truth and he was still ready to do that and she wouldn't let him. I don't think those are the actions of a completely terrible person, I think they're the actions of a scared kid who did some shitty things, but is trying her best and trying to do better. At the VERY least they're the actions of a multifaceted character who deserves the same level of grace and insight afforded to the male characters. (If anyone wants to read more of my thoughts on Sandy and her narrative importance, I have a post here). There's also something to be said about the poor 'greasy' girls facing harsher vitriol than the soc girls, and while part of it is because of Ponyboy's biased narration, it's clear to see that readers very much took his views at face value. Soc girls are 'good girls' and have to be perfect to deserve credit from the fans, but greasy girls are 'trashy' so it's ok for them to be judged and shit on. Spoiler alert: it isn't.

Sylvia is similar to Sandy in that her cheating and 'loose' behaviour earn her a lot of hate, which again, I'm not defending her cheating, but we need to give her the same analysis and benefit of the doubt given to Dally. Dally is NOT a good person. Ponyboy says this and makes it clear plenty of times. He's a hurt character, so we can explien why he is the way he is, but he isn't a GOOD character. he values loyalty, so he never cheated on Sylvia, but it's clear based on how he treats Cherry and casual comments he makes that he doesn't really respect women. I can't imagine Sylvia's experience dating him was one where she felt very adored. Again, not an excuse for cheating, but I can understand WHY she'd try and take back power within a dynamic and a society where she never had any, and I don't want to vilify her for that. She's also a poor woman growing up in the sixties- the book makes it clear life is hard enough for poor guys griowing up at that time, but it was probably equally if not more hard for poor women. I think, like the gang, she does what she had to to survive. If you can understand why the gang does bad things, and still be humans who can be considered good, you can extend the same understanding to Sylvia (and Sandy.) I think people need to also keep in mind that everything we know ABOUT Sylvia (and the rest of the female characters) we know from Ponyboy, a fourteen year old boy who's narration is INCREDIBLY biased and who doesn't have the full details of any of the relationships in the gang. Ponyboy sees Sylvia and Sandy as these terrible, loose women who have hurt people he cares about, so a lot of the fandom does too, but it doesn't change the fact that by doing so you're accepting and embracing Ponyboy's internalized misogyny and making it your own.

Anyway, I don't think I'm articulating this as well as i want to, and i spoke a bit more about this in this reply to one of the posts on the confessions page, but yeah, I just wish people could accept that fact that if they bend over backward to find ways to defend or explain immoral actions from male characters, but refuse to even attempt to do the same for female characters, they've probably internalized a bit of misogyny they should maybe work on.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Love the posts on Harry’s mischaracterisation!! It’s soo soothing to come across Harry appreciation!

How infuriating is it that everything he does, particularly his successful defeat of Voldemort, hinges on Hermione’s guidance. Fic writers out here writing smack like without her, the trio would’ve been lost and aimless. Or how Hermione’s spell repertoire kept Harry alive throughout school. Uhm, ex-bloody-cuse me? And then some fics go to the extremes of even making Harry a pliable weakling who can’t think for himself or make him apologise for coming off as self-righteous and prejudiced against the racist party? 🙄

Honestly, it’s seems less like terrible reading comprehension and more of extreme bias for their fav character, who is definitely so not Harry, and some blatant dislike of him instead. You never see the titular character so severely undervalued and made fun of in other series smh.

Thank you so much! 😊

Harry is my favorite and I can't get how people can dislike him so much after reading the books.

Now, I don't want to put down Hermione. Her spell repertoire and tendency to plan ahead did save their lives multiple times. Ron, also, had his share of clever heroic moments and he got to save the trio's lives too. And so did Harry. All three of them are smart, talented, and capable wizards in their own right. Like, the entire Golden Trio are not average and it's shown to be so repeatedly.

But, Harry is special. He is the main character and the chosen one for a reason. While Ron and Hermione are smart and talented, they don't have Harry's sheer magical talent that's on par with characters like Voldemort and Dumbledore.

Honestly, I find the weak-willed passive Harry more offensive than the unintelligent or magically inept one. Harry is so smart, but one of the most defining aspects of his character is his iron will and strength of character. It's a big aspect of what makes him special. what makes him the main hero. I mean, there's a reason he can naturally resist the Imperius. Harry James Potter is so strong. He goes through so much and is such a good person anyway. He's willing to stand up and keep fighting against impossible odds, and honestly, book!Harry is an inspirational character. There's a lot you can learn from him and aspire to (not everything, but his resilience is truly something to behold).

That being said, I don't think this is unique to Harry Potter (Ron bashing which often mischaracterizes him, for example) or the HP fandom as a whole.

I used to be a huge Percy Jackson fan (I kinda hate everything past the Last Olympian, HOO was not to my liking at all, but I digress). And from what I remember in fics and the PJO fandom when I was there (I think it's worse now, from the bits I see on occasion), it had just as much of a problem as the Harry Potter fandom does. Fanon often portrayed Percy as stupid, or this kind of sunshine character, when he really isn't. Fans complained back when House of Hades came out that Percy was OOC for chocking a goddess with her own blood, and I was sitting there, like, this is the guy that turned his abusive stepdad to stone with Medusa's head when he was 12 — are we really talking about the same character?

Percy in the first 5 books was clever, witty, genuinely funny, but also really bitter. He had loads of spite in him but he also genuinely cared about people and was incredibly loyal to his loved ones. The fandom, just turned him into a happy-go-lucky funny guy who can't get out of a paper bag without Annabeth (the smart love interest). And it infuriated me there too because I liked canon Percy.

I was also, a huge Gravity Falls fan (still am, actually, even if I'm not as hyper-fixated as I was in 2015). When I was in high school, I was in the Gravity Falls cipher-breaking trenches. I was analyzing that show frame by frame and spoiled all the plot twists to my irl friends because I saw the clues (such as predicting who's the author and the stan twins situation after s1 ep19). I actually predicted a good chunk of what's written in the Book of Bill that came out this year with the Bill Cipher psychological analysis I wrote when I was 15. (I feel so vindicated about that. I sent a bunch of quotes from the book to those same irl friends who thought I was overthinking Bill and the finale captioned: "I told you so").

Point is, the main characters of Gravity Falls (Dipper and Mabel) got so mischaracterized by fandom and fics back in the day.

Dipper was often pigeonholed as a goody-two-shoes awkward smart-guy nerd and fans complained he was OOC when he acted more vindictive in season 2, when, in fact, Dipper was always vindictive and could hold a mean grudge. (Dipper Pines, s1 ep8: "Revenge is underrated, that felt awesome!"). Dipper isn't a typical smart-guy character, yes, he's nerdy and clever and socially awkward, but he's also incredibly brave and determined. Honestly, Dipper's determination is his most defining trait, not his intelligence or intellect (which is sometimes more preformative, s2 ep7: "Sometimes I use big words and I don't actually know what they mean, I mean, I'm supposed to be the smart guy"), but I digress.

Mabel was the fandom's punching back around the finale of season 2 and the fandom treated her like a selfish horrible person for acting like a twelve-year-old girl who loves her brother. They made her out to be some kind of awful monstrous person when Mabel is one of the sweetest characters in media ever. She makes mistakes, she is a little selfish at times, but she truly cares about being a good person, about doing good and making people's lives better. Hell her worst confession was her feeling guilty about not loving all her stuffed animals equally and the fandom still called her evil. She also owns up to her mistakes, which is more than many people can say.

So, really, this disdain for the main characters and mischaracterization of them isn't new or unique to the HP fandom. I think it's been part of literature analysis since human literature existed if I'm being honest. It just feels worse now because everyone with an opinion has an internet connection and social media amplifies a lot of bad takes (but also a lot of good takes!). But, yeah, this is a prevalent fandom thing, but it isn't just the HP fandom.

As I said many times before, write and read whatever fanon content you feel like, have fun, but canon exists, and sometimes, canon is better.

[exaltior-a]

Personally the amount of people who are either "Jake is a stupid himbo" or "Jake is actively malicious" blow my mind. No, Jake isn't stupid, and he's not evil. He's a sixteen year old who is implied to have a mental disability and/or brain damage (it's not exactly clear, Caliborn claims they have the same developmental disorder and Dirk iirc worries that Jake hit his head too much, I guess you can take either with a grain of salt but I digress), and has not had meaningful real life interactions with other human beings in years. He is in the wrong for his actions, but it feels. Purposefully ignorant to claim he's just stupid or just evil for them.

He's socially stunted. He wants to emulate heroes in movies but lacks self esteem and experience. If the alpha kids had enough time to be more fleshed out (and let's be real, if Hussie cared about Jake) this might have been explored more thoroughly. He'd never had the opportunity to learn how to cope with a relationship, how to communicate his needs, or understand that he can't control how other people perceive him like he can through a computer screen.

He doesn't know healthy boundaries because he's never had to use them, and this goes both ways (allowing his friends to sexualise him and treat him like an object, as well as constantly complaining about his relationship with Dirk to Jane) Like yeah he does run away instead of communicating with Dirk and yeah he does dump all his problems on Jane. I love Jane, but one of her problems is her bottling up her feelings and people pleasing until everything blows up. She should have told him off much sooner, and while he was being a dick, it was partly because she allowed him to feel like it was okay to do, since she never told him it wasn't after the first few times or when she was starting to get aggravated.

His problems with Dirk are a little more complicated because we're never actually shown their relationship or how it broke down, but from what we can gather, Jake felt overwhelmed by Dirk's intensity and decided to ignore him rather than tell him try and avoid confrontation but leading to Dirk being frustrated and breaking up with him. Dirk claims he feels like he bullied Jake into a relationship, and though I personally think that's him making it seem worse than it was, it does mean that Dirk probably was trying to go too fast. I've best heard it is Jake being an introvert pretending to be an extrovert.

This is not to say I don't think people can't dislike or even hate Jake, but it's like. Idk. Misinterpreting a character and disliking that version of them is a little redundant to me.

[severus-snaps]

i know we all enjoyed that screencap from hogwarts mystery where madam pomfrey lets slip that snape is needy when he gets a cold but like

maybe it's because he's feeling under the weather that his usual facade cracks. the illness is just a conduit, an excuse to be 'needy', because he finally has something he can blame for feeling bad - something specific that he can pinpoint, one he can share. without meaning to, without any intention or conscious awareness that it's what he's doing, he's seeking the comfort and sympathy he's always been starved for. what would it take to be considered needy, anyway? turning up repeatedly for potions from madam pomfrey, even though he could brew them himself? coughing/sniffing dramatically in the staffroom, sitting by the fire looking like death warmed up, and playing it up a little?

i'm not sure he'd get much, though. in the game, madam pomfrey tells people he's needy, which doesn't suggest sympathy and actually feels a bit mean, telling other people that. when he speaks to the students, he tells them to stop gawking at him with 'feigned pity', suggesting that's what he's used to:

getting back into 'canon' extrapolations from book characterisations, i expect that the other teachers would hardly be sympathetic... (i went on a bit of a ramble so have broken it down below)

mcgonagall mcgonagall is probably the professor suggested to be closest to snape, with their quidditch rivalry bordering a frenemy-style relationship - but she seems very old-school tough love/dismissal, the type to snap "just have a whisky/potion and get on with it"

dumbledore dumbledore might offer some kind words, but their relationship is... complicated. snape is, obviously, a brooding little bitch - he's not about to forget that dumbledore dismissed his wanting to die like it was nothing when lily died, so he's hardly going to think that dumbledore's sympathy is genuine

madam pomfrey i think madam pomfrey would be similarly no-nonsense to mcgonagall; she sees worse every day from kids' magic going wrong, the yearly disaster whenever harry is there, and quidditch injuries, and even when harry is injured i don't remember her being particularly comforting - she'd hardly have time for snape's theatrics.

hagrid weirdly, i think hagrid would be sympathetic - he always seems fairly nice about snape, probably because anyone dumbledore trusts is 1000% incredible in hagrid's book - but i doubt snape comes across hagrid that often outside of mealtimes (should they sit together) since hagrid lives outside the castle, unlike the rest of the staff (which seems a bit mean, on reflection - though maybe hagrid likes it because he prefers nature and his own space, and the freedom to do illegal activities like dragon rearing and breeding possibly illegal creatures, but i digress)

the others i doubt the other professors are close enough to snape to offer anything more than polite, surface-level sympathy for a coworker - and snape knows that.

if we want to get into little bit sad territory, imagine snape in the staffroom. there's a bug going around; everyone has had it at some stage. he leaves a tray of vials filled with pepperup/some other potion; people take them gratefully.

then he overhears sprout like "here filius, make a tea out of this and you'll be right as rain!", mcgonagall sharing her own whisky for a hot toddy with madame hooch when she gets a chesty cough, or the staff put together care packages to take down to hagrid's hut when he's ill.

snape isn't offered anything. the potions quickly run out.

he heads to the hospital wing to ask for another, because his brain fog and aching limbs and sinus pain mean he's firmly not in the mood to be bent over a cauldron to be making any more - and besides, he's made all of the potions for the hospital wing anyway - they're basically his to take. he made them especially for this bug going around. he's handed them out in the staffroom already. he's left them in the slytherin common room. he even took one to dumbledore's office.

but rather than offering anything, madam pomfrey shoos him away quickly, tells him to stop being such a bother - so he just traipses back to his own room, fully aware that nobody will gather leaves for a curative tea for him, he'll be receiving no care packages, no hot toddies, not even his own potions - and if he doesn't show at dinner, because he's tired and grumpy and aching and just wants to sleep, nobody will ask after him - because nobody cares

but yeah. snape, feeling under the weather and subconsciously seeking a little bit of care - and still not receiving any :(

[its-your-mind]

Something something timkon and hair and how lex lichrally programmed Kon to shave his head before he went all luthor and was forced to attack his team, his best friends, his family. and then how most of the hair on the back of Tim’s head got burned off when he got blowed up (thx Steph) and he had to cut or shave the rest of it off so it could grow back semi-evenly. and how kon was a #rebel esp compared to all-American Boy Scout Superman; Kon’s rockin around with the side cut and the leather jacket and the buckles and the spikes or the (ill-advised and made me sad) black t-shirt and jeans but even the “I am a totally normal bro” getup made him distinct and different from Kal and that is really important to Kon because he wants to be his own person, not a Superman-stand-in. and THEN fucking LEX made it so Kon would look more like Lex! his other DNA donor!!! And Tim!! He kept his hair short — just long enough to spike it up as Robin — until both of his parents were gone. which suggests to me that he kinda always wanted it long (hello Tim Drake, #1 Dick Grayson stan) but that just wasn’t an option allowed to him (not uncommon for parents who care Very Much about Appearances — my own parents were the same about my brothers’ hair growing up, not least because the private all-boys school they went to dictated that their hair couldn’t be long enough to touch the collar of their shirt (with exceptions for [insert kinda racist and vaguely xenophobic language here] hair styles). As soon as he turned 18 my baby brother got a rocker-style mane. But I digress. Anyway). Then, post-tragedy, Tim’s hair got long enough to flip down over his forehead and stream behind him when he swung through the city (perhaps one of his ways of clinging to control and his sense of self in the whole awful situation). But then… Tim got fucking exploded, betrayed by his ex-girlfriend who had only just returned after letting him grieve her death for a year, and now she’s following Tim’s dead father mentor’s instructions to challenge him or whatever the fuck bullshit Batman told her, (a young girl whose own father was an asshole criminal, who so desperately wanted Bruce to be proud of her) and now Tim has to cut his hair all the way down to the scalp again and listen. I’m sorry dc tim looks fucking amazing in adventure comics and I’m in love with how he is arted but hair cannot and does not grow back that quick!! Mf had to wait!! I bet it grew in fucking patchy!! I bet kon’s did too!! (prolly not as bad as Tim’s cuz Tim’s got scar tissue and shit.)

but I just think tim and kon deserve a chance to sit down and just commiserate with each other about growing their hair back out (growing back out a sidecut is a BITCH I speak from experience) and Tim’s prolly having to trim his own hair super often to keep it nice-ish while it comes back in, and Kon’s curls are just a fucking MESS until they grow out enough to like. Curl. (Again, speaking from experience) And they’re just shooting the shit (“well MINE was worse bc I looked like fucking LEX. LUTHOR.” / “well you didn’t have to wait to figure out which parts of your scalp we actually gonna bother growing hair again”) until it gets quiet for a minute. And then one of them asks if the hair also reminds the other one of The Shitty Thing That Happened. And then they fucking talk about it. About how they can’t look in the mirror without having a flashback of pain or rage. How it makes them feel like they don’t even get to control their own bodies, their own appearances, and how much that fucking sucks. How they go to run their hand through their hair and there’s just. Not enough of it to do that. How Kon is terrified that somehow looking like Lex means Lex will use him to hurt the people he loves again. How every time Tim sees another Bat or Bird looking at the back of his head, all he can think about is how they might be planning to lure him into another Bat-mandated trap test. How both Tim and Kon kinda really miss the feeling of people playing with their hair. How they miss playing with each others’ hair.

And maybe then one of them extends an offer and the other does the same and they agree to do each others’ hair. Maybe it’ll help paint a new layer over those awful memories.

So Kon finds Tim once a week (he’s never in the same place, he’s rarely even in the same country) and he trims the hair until it looks even, gives Tim the #sitch on how much hair is growing back in. After the second or third week he realizes that Tim’s not keeping up with his burn-care routine, so he starts bringing burn and scar cream with him too. Then he remembers Tim’s lack of a hair care routine and starts trying out different products on Tim’s hair to see what works best. Tim doesn’t say anything, but he thinks all of this feels even better than when Kon and Cassie used to twist little braids into his hair.

Kon insists that Tim doesn’t have to help until his hair’s grown out more, (that he doesn’t want Tim nearby and distracted while Kon still looks like Lex) but Tim outright refuses to let Kon push him away and he will NOT be outdone in the caretaking game. He waits until Kon’s busy fighting some giant alien robot in metropolis and sneaks in to the Kents’ house to scope out what products Kon uses. When he leaves the bathroom, Ma Kent is there, eyebrow raised. She tells him he “could have just knocked on the front door, sweetheart, we know how’ta keep secrets in this house. Now, let’s get some food in you before Conner comes home. You’re all skin and bones, hun.” So Tim goes downstairs and takes some mini meat pies for the road, and then researches the products Kon uses, what they do, what the ingredients do, if there are other (more expensive) options that people have sworn up and down are better. He amasses a collection, and the next time Kon shows up with clippers and healing creams and a new shampoo to try, Tim’s already got ten different products lined up on the sink — everything from shampoos and conditioners to serums and masks. Kon asks if these are things Tim wants Kon to use in Tim’s hair. Tim tells him that no, all of these are for Tim to try on Kon. Kon almost cries. (He does cry, he just doesn’t let the tears fall until Tim isn’t looking.) (Tim notices anyway ofc.) And Tim’s made a spreadsheet to track the effectiveness of different products, different ingredients, different combinations, so he tells Kon to start coming every 2-3 days instead, so he can establish results using a realistic timeframe. Sometimes, if Tim’s gonna be in one place for a few days, Kon just crashes with him. (Neither of them say it, but they both fucking CRAVE the old Core Four cuddle piles.) Eventually, when Kon’s hair is long enough that he’s ready to switch back to his side-cut again, Tim surprises him by not only shaving the hair down, but shaving a few racing stripes (“they’re flight patterns!” / “rob, I dunno what to tell you. everyone’s gonna think they’re racing stripes. doesn’t mean they aren’t dope as fuck, though.”) into Kon’s hair. Every time Kon’s hair grows out enough, Tim shaves it back and stencils in a new design. Kon starts making requests (“gimme the Super ‘S’!” / “It’s the House of El crest, Kon. You know that. Also, you have a secret identity to maintain.” / “C’mon, I’ll just say I’m a fan!” / “With the same El family crest shaved onto your scalp as Superboy?” / “No one’s noticed the identical head decor yet!”) but it’s the day Kon asks (with the same confident and mischievous tone as always) for Tim to shave in the Red Robin crest that something in Tim’s chest, something formless and warm that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, seers a burning path through his heart, takes root, and solidifies.

“Kon. I love you.”

Kon’s distracted, rifling through their hair-care bags for Tim’s razors. “Love you too, Robbie. Duh. That’s why I’m askin’ you to shave your cre–”

“No,” Tim shakes his head, mildly frustrated with himself for the lack of clarity. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

Kon is seated in the chair they’d pulled into the bathroom from the hotel room’s desk, so he has to look up to meet Tim’s eyes. The hand digging beneath sample bottles of leave-in conditioner freezes, still wrist-deep in hair products. Kon’s expression looks to Tim like one of his video games’ character builders froze between the settings for ‘bright smile’ and ‘shock and awe.’

So Tim just looks down at him. Waits. If this was anyone else, Tim would probably be losing his mind right now, but… it’s Kon. Tim’s safe. Kon would never do anything to hurt him.

Kon unfreezes, blinks a few times. “Could you–” he coughs. “Could you say that again? I think my brain maybe like, malfunctioned for a second.”

Tim takes a step closer, reaches out one hand to cup Kon’s cheek, scratches his fingertips through the stubble on the side of Kon’s head. “I’m in love with you, Conner Kent.”

Tears fill Kon’s eyes, and he blinks them away. “That’s– that’s what I thought you said.” His hand (the one not trapped beneath a sea of shampoos, some detached and unhelpful part of Tim’s mind remarks) comes up to gently rest on Tim’s hip. “Robbie, Tim, I– of course I’m in love with you. You– you’re– you’re amazing, you know that? You’re so kind and strong and you’re a genius and you’re a gift to everyone around you; I dunno how everyone else doesn’t see you like I do.”

Tim can’t help but reach out his other hand to wrap around the back of Kon’s head, to feel where the curls carve a path down through the shorter hair and come to a sharp point.

“I mean, damn Wonder Boy,” Kon tries to muster up his Superboy smirk, but the look in his eyes is full of too much genuine affection for him to pull it off. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Kauai, since you grabbed me outta free-fall and swung me to safety. You caught me. No one’d ever done that before. And then you just… kept doing it. You’re still saving me, still taking care of me.”

Kon reaches his other hand (no eruption of hairspray, thank you TTK, that same unhelpful part of Tim’s mind comments. Read the room! the rest of Tim yells at it.) around the back of Tim’s neck, avoiding the tender and scarred areas with practiced ease, and pulls Tim down until their foreheads touch.

“I love you, Wonder. I love you, Robbie.” Kon tilts his head up, waits until their eyes meet. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that Tim’s ever seen.

Tim smiles back, and Kon’s eyes soften. “I love you, Tim.”

Tim leans down and uses his hands on either side of Kon’s head to guide Kon’s lips up to his own.

This is what I want to remember, Tim thinks as he feels Kon’s fingers gliding softly against the sensitive skin of his burn, feels Kon’s TTK covering and protecting the parts still too tender to touch. Tim runs his own fingertips back and forth over the stubble on the sides of Kon’s head, before pushing them up until they’re tangled in Kon’s curls.

I don’t want to care anymore whether or not the people around me look at the back of my head and see weakness or failure. They don’t get to decide whether this mark on my body matters or what it means. I do. And I decide that these scars are important because they brought me here, to this moment. They brought me to Kon.

Kon tilts his head down to break the kiss. He stands up, and before Tim gets a chance to move away and give him space, Kon wraps his arms and TTK around him. He plants a kiss in Tim’s hair. “Damn, Wonder Boy. Having to grow all my hair back almost feels worth it if it got me here.”

Tim smiles and wraps his arms around Kon’s waist, nestles into Kon’s chest. “You know what, Clone Boy? I was just thinking the same thing.”

[p0ckykiss]

five ways to say "i love you" - jeonghan

summary - how jeonghan shows his love to you, through all five love languages

-> sick y/n, worried jeonghan, fluff, established relationship, soft jeonghan!!!!, whipped jeonghan

seasonal depression is a real thing. at least, according to you it is. personally, jeonghan had never experienced it. its entire premise just didn't really make sense, is all. watching the leaves change colors and fall was beautiful, and when winter rolled around the corner, so did the holidays and days off. if anything, wasn't that a reason to be happier?

a sneeze interrupts his train of thought, and jeonghan feels a pang in his chest at the sight.

it's officially been three days with you being flu-struck, and you both hoped it would've gotten better by now, but if anything it only seemed to have gotten worse. the time reads a quarter past two, and jeonghan can't help but sigh. 

you've been stuck on the couch since noon, curled up in your warmest blanket trying to watch the latest sitcom episode. your drowsiness is palpable, and every time you reach for a tissue to blow your nose, jeonghan flinches.

if seasonal depression corresponded with your well-being, then maybe jeonghan relates to it more than he thinks. and though jeonghan is chock-full of sympathy, his urgency to comfort you proves stronger.

and so jeonghan begins to rack his brain for different methods to make you feel better. and somehow his memories digress to the day you both took the love language test, even before you started dating. much to his embarrassment, jeonghan doesn't actually remember what your love language is, and he's way too prideful to ask. luckily, the nostalgia ends with the spark of a lightbulb, and jeonghan smiles. he knows exactly what to do. 

— 

the quest to rediscover your love language begins with the first type: words of affirmation.

slowly, jeonghan saunters over to you, trailing his fingertips over the leather of the couch, then over the fabric of the blanket, gently and gradually, until they find their way to your shoulder, and jeonghan leans down so you're promptly face to face. the quiet chatter from the TV fills up empty space, but it's not enough to force jeonghan to speak loudly. so he doesn't. instead, he inches ever so closer, until he can make out every beauty mark on your face, and he breathes, hardly above a whisper, "you're so beautiful."

in an attempt to play the compliment off, you merely roll your eyes. you blame your illness, though, when you can't contain the slightest inklings of a smile forming, nor the red flush that threatens to overtake your cheeks. you pair a gentle slap against jeonghan's arm with the statement, "i look like shit," and the accusation, "you're just saying that to make me feel better."

if it was even possible, jeonghan moves in closer, propping one hand on the couch arm for support so he could lift his other hand to rest perfectly under your chin. jeonghan swipes his thumb over your skin, hot to the touch, but he can't tell if it's from a blush or from the fever. "you might be right," jeonghan concedes, humming as he takes in every detail of your current state—rosy nose, puffy eyes, dry skin, messy hair—and yet jeonghan can't seem to find any flaws. inspection complete, jeonghan searches for the one thing he knows he can find. ever so faintly, glimmers dance in your eyes, and when jeonghan catches them with his own, like he's done before a million times, he repeats himself. "you might be right. i could just be saying that to make you feel better." jeonghan tucks one of many stray hairs behind your ear before reaching down to cup your hands together, "but that doesn't make it any less true."

and jeonghan can see it, can physically see it, how all of your insecurities instantly crumble, like a house of cards collapsing upon itself, melting away to make room for new walls, sturdier this time, built from affirmations and confidence and care.

a verbal response isn't required. all you do is smile, subtly, so that your lips barely curve up, and you close your eyes. but even this speaks volumes, because it's your cue of absorbing all the good things around you, no matter how small. it's also jeonghan's cue to add one final speck of positivity to your realm with a sweet kiss to your forehead, before he takes his leave to give you your much-needed space. 

—

mindless chatter continues to emit from the TV, and when jeonghan peers into the living room, he spots you tucked away in your same spot on the couch, only this time your head rested lower and your mouth hung open, blissfully asleep and temporarily free from the virus that ailed you.

jeonghan is quick to shimmy on his coat. braving the bite of winter air, it was time to do some shopping for part two, giving gifts, in his mission to determine your love language.

months of taking extra shifts, saving up, determined observations, and heavy research all culminated into this one moment. he was battling not one, but two, life-or-death decisions. the first was to pick which gaming console to buy, and the second was to pick which game to correctly pair with said console. his dedication to this plan, despite being executed weeks before the planned date, does not fail him, and fifteen minutes later jeonghan is walking back into your home as if nothing even happened.

luckily, you are still asleep, which gives jeonghan enough time to wrap up (literally) this phase of the journey and get a head start on the next: acts of services.

— 

about a million things fly through jeonghan's head when he watches you ease out of your slumber, the most prominent thought being how adorable you look, but the most important thought being how sick you still must feel, and how it's engraved in jeonghan's soul to fend off your demons.

unable to contain his excitement, jeonghan approaches you with his arms tucked behind his back, very conspicuously hiding something. you don't even get the chance to sit up before jepnghan kneels beside you, looking up with the largest pair of star-filled eyes. 

jeonghan brings both hands forward, so the two presents display themselves proudly between you. "i was going to wait until christmas," he shuffles the gifts into your arms, "but i can't stand seeing you like this." jeonghan balls his fists into his lap to prevent himself from tearing away at the wrappings himself. "i hope you like it."

piece by piece, bits of red and green foil fall to the floor. no amount of congestion or itchiness in your throat could suppress the yelp that burst from your voice. "jeonghan," you begin, but the growing lump of emotion in your chest was making it damn near impossible to finish your sentence. "you really didn't have to."

jeonghan beams. "yes i did. i know how much you miss your old switch."

"you mean the one i threw out the window because i couldn't pass that one stupid level of super mario?" 

it's clear that you are very unfond of the memory, but jeonghan simply finds it all the more endearing. "that's the one."

the grin on jeonghan's face has yet to falter, and suddenly the swells of appreciation that lap at your heart transform into guilt. you imagine all the sacrifices jeonghan must have made in order to afford this, all the late shifts he had to seek out, just to buy you a replacement for something you broke in the first place. you swallow a lump of equal parts of exasperation and admiration down your throat, ready to air out further protest because you really don't deserve this, and you sure as hell don't deserve jeonghan.

and jeonghan can imagine all of your internal turmoil, of course he can, which gives him all the more reason to assure you that you do, in fact, deserve the entire world. it's also happily up to jeonghan to deliver it to you. one warm hand placed on your cold ones and a couple of soothing circles rubbed atop of them later, and jeonghan has effectively drawn you out of your own bubble.

"whatever you're worrying about," jeonghan exhales, "don't." when jeonghan senses the tension releasing from your body, he drives his point across with a home run. "plus," he nods at the game he bought to accompany the console, mario kart 8, "we can play together this time, too."

there's no reason to argue, you conclude, especially not against jeonghan. a deep breath resets your mentality, and you try your best to return to your usual self, biting back a smile. "you know I won't go easy on you, right?"

"oh please," jeonghan ruffles your already messy hair, "in your condition, you'll be begging me to go easy on you."

frowning, you take a moment to envision this unlikely scenario. unwilling to even entertain the possibility of losing to jeonghan, you dodge the challenge altogether. "how about we play another time," you mutter.

and at that, jeonghan jumps to his feet, grabbing the switch and the game in one fell swoop. "i knew you were gonna say that," he giggles, "which is why I prepared something else."

after quickly shooting a prayer to whatever gods were out there, you tentatively say, "please don't tell me you got another ridiculously expensive gift. this is more than enough." you're more than enough, you want to add, but don't.

jeonghan all but skips to the kitchen. "i wouldn't exactly call this a gift." a painfully slow thirty seconds pass until he returns to the couch in the living room, to you, carefully balancing a plate of various desserts in one hand, and cradling what appeared to be a lighter in the other.

you squint, double checking if you were actually seeing what you thought you were seeing. "what exactly would you call it, then?"

figuring that calling it an act of service would be much too blatant, jeonghan settles on "lunch."

"lunch?" you eye the plate, definitively making out two chocolate bars, a sleeve of graham crackers, and a bundle of marshmallows.

once his rendition of a charcuterie board is secure on the coffee table, jeonghan maneuvers his way onto the couch and under the blanket, shoulder to shoulder with you one and only. "you haven't eaten all day. and i know you probably don't want to eat a proper meal," jeonghan gestures at their awaiting food, "but I also know you crave sweets when you're sick."

it should be second nature by now, really, with how many times jeonghan so casually demonstrates just how well he knows you, maybe even more than you knows yourself. but jeonghan leaves you in awe every time, regardless. 

s'mores are your designated comfort food. the entire process is just so enjoyable, from prepping the ingredients and assembling the structure, to trying to eat the whole thing in one bite lest the remnants ooze out the sides. and so you both do just that.

lacking anything close to a fireplace or a firepit, you roast marshmallows skewered with chopsticks above the dim flame from the lighter. as per the laws of physics (or something like that), the first marshmallow never goes well, and you both end up with a big black burnt chunk of goo. you effectively hurl yours in the trash, but jeonghan dares to take a nibble off his own. he learns that curiosity does, in fact, kill the cat, and jeonghan scrambles to wash out that terrible ashy aftertaste on his tongue. then he hears the faint sound of you snorting, and he concludes that it was worth it.

you tackle the issue of melting the chocolate next, but it's jeonghan who requests to handle this part because he doesn't want to risk you getting burnt. 

and so you watch as jeonghan carefully heats the chocolate piece by piece over the fire. and you note all of jeonghan's habits you've picked up on over the years. how jeonghan's tongue peaks out from the corner of his mouth when he's super concentrated, how he furrows his brows when he tries to see better, how he forgets to blink when there's one specific thing on his mind. and you feel yourself likewise melting like the chocolate, because even to this day, you still can't fathom how you were so lucky to have jeonghan to call yours.

"i hope you're hungry," jeonghan announces, grinning ear to ear. 

you reciprocate the expression. it's assembly time. 

you make a mess. it was inevitable, honestly. there was only so much precaution to be taken from your comfy position on the couch, legs and feet all tangled up in each other. and you wouldn't have it any other way.

laughter outshines any noise from the long-forgotten sitcom playing on the TV. each bounce of your shoulder from an accompanying chuckle is followed by the blanket sliding down, just a bit. jeonghan tries to be slick when he drapes his arm around you, a front to make sure he can pull the blanket back up every time it threatens to slip. but this is you. you, who notice everything that jeonghan does for you. you, who's grateful for all of it. you, who don't think you can love jeonghan any more than you already do.

—

an impromptu nap is essential for their post-s'more recovery. the last two love languages, physical touch and quality time, are much harder to gauge. considering jeonghan's affection is usually on full display 24/7 and the fact that he counts his entire lifespan with you as quality time, he can only hope you treasure your moments together as much as he does. and honestly, at this point, jeonghan is much too tired to care about his quest to uncover your love language. the only mission on his mind is to get you as close as possible, and so he seeks to accomplish just that.

pulling you into his arms, you both slump onto your sides, feet dangling off the edge of the couch, hands wrapped around shoulders and backs, and eyes locked unwavering onto the other's. jeonghan slips his bicep under your neck, fashioning a faux pillow, and rests your head against his chest, just above his beating heart.

you squirm in a weak attempt to create some distance between you. (you're not successful.) "i'm gonna get you sick."

jeonghan only snuggles closer. "i don't care," emphasizing his point with a chaste kiss upon your forehead, and then, oh so gently, on your nose, both cheeks, and finally, still ever so softly, on your lips. 

you've both long since outgrown the butterflies in your stomachs. what used to elicit sparks of electricity at every touch now resound in echoes of warmth. and lying here, in jeonghan's embrace, in jeonghan's comfort, in jeonghan's life, you feel so safe. you'd spend eternity with jeonghan if you could, but right now, when the passage of time has all but stopped as you continue to hold each other in your own beautiful world, what you have right now is all you want.

—

you both wake up as you were, still entangled in each other's body, each other's affection, each other's hearts.

you let yourself drown in the serenity that was jeonghan before you ask the question that's been tickling the back of your mind the whole day. "what was up with you today? you were oddly kind, even more so than you usually are."

an instant flush of red rises upon jeonghan's cheeks, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think jeonghan was the sick one, not you. "this is gonna sound stupid," jeonghan says.

and to that, your first instinct is to reach for jeonghan's hand and intertwine your fingers, still perfectly warm under the blanket. "nothing you say is ever stupid." it's true. on a scale of endearing to adorable, never once have you thought jeonghan resembled anything close to the word stupid.

jeonghan bites his lip, as he confesses, "i hated seeing how miserable you were, and i wanted to cheer you up, but i forgot what your love language is, so i thought i'd do one of each to see which one you like the most, but you were equally receptive to all of them, and i feel dumb for not knowing what means the most to you."

when you don't immediately respond, jeonghan sighs and chides himself. "i told you, it's stupid."

but you just laugh, sporting a grin so wide your eyes turn into mini crescent moons. "yoon jeonghan, you're ridiculous in the best way possible." you unlace your finger in favor of cupping your palm around jeonghan's cheek, still blazing from embarrassment. "did you know that?"

jeonghan flits his gaze downwards, uncharacteristically shy towards the one person he's bared his entire soul to. "could you still remind me what your love language is?" he sheepishly requests, adding on, "just for future reference."

you just smile, and you hope your words are enough to convey the intensity of the way your whole body swells with an undeniable warmth every time jeonghan does anything. "as long as it's with you," you use your thumb to tilt jeonghan's head back up, ensuring he can see just how sincere you are when you say, "i love it all just the same." and then you lean in, breaths already mingling, lips centimeters from meeting, hearts seconds from colliding, when you whisper, "i love you all just the same."

[asmogorna]

Okay so there’s this ww artist on ig called like tooth lilys or something and he’s always causing drama in the ww fandom and he mouthed off about your art and now heaps of insta ww fans are like talking about you :| free publicity?

ahhhh so thats whats happening .. lmao thats crazy

i checked out their story, and i sure doooo love how they leave some things out when talking about both situations that they mentioned to make me look worse ..

ok so

warning, yap session incoming

the "will wood in a (miku) binder" thing happened back in fall 2023 when i was still semi new to the fandom and didnt know a lot of things. so tho i to this day i dont think it was that big of a deal, i wouldnt do it today

it was an artwork made for shits and giggles, the context of which i have explained here before. i never meant to imply that will wood is trans and i certainly dont "headcanon" him as that. my curse is that even when joking around i tend to try and make my art look good, so i get why people thought it was unironic. and i know that it sounds like a lame ass excuse, but it legit didnt cross my mind that people would think i drew will wood as a trans guy or smth. legit my only thought process was "funny haha internet thing" + "my favorite thing" = "good idea"

now the usage of his real name is something i am genuinely sorry for, but it was an accident and a genuine mistake on my part. i remember seeing someone mention it casually in some comment section, and assuming that it was ok, since i didnt know he was in any way against it. (i also thought that it was the same name that he used in "the real will wood" in that one section cus it sounded a bit similar).

when i was informed about the fact that he doesnt want it spread around i deleted the post right away and apologized, so bringing it up like something i did on purpose and out of malicious intent is a tad bit .. misfitting, if you can use that word

now the hot topic of the day: my waywood art

i have said this before and i will say this again, how i feel about rpf is solely based off how the people involved feel about it

to clarify: i never drew anything inappropriate or even suggestive with them, the "worst" thing is 2 simple sketches of them smoochin. or. this.

idk if this is what they were referring to when talking about me drawing will wood and gerard way "making out" (specifically. because i think "making out" implies to be more sexual stuff than small kisses). and if so, then it once again feels like blowing things out of proportion

and now the point i want you to get: will wood wouldnt give a flying fuck

like i said earlier, i never drew anything inappropriate, because that would actually cross will's existent and real boundaries. you know, the ones that he stated

im not making some conspiracy theories about him being gay, like some people seem to imply in their inbox messages to me

im not sending a whole ass smut fanfiction to litwtc gmail or something, i dont bother him in instagram dms asking if he wants to fuck gerard way, im not shipping him with people who he actually knows personally and has to look in the eyes of from time to time

im not doing anything that he would actually care about

him and chris have joked about him being attracted to gerard before, and though im not saying that you can joke about everything theyve ever joked about, i feel like in our case its clear that will clearly doesnt care about the implications ? (i generally believe that ww fans would get their panties twisted about less things if more of them listened to what these 2 talk about so calmly on litwtc but i digress)

if he saw that some random teenager on tumblr is drawing him and gerard way (gasp of horror) holding hands, he'd laugh at it max and then move on with his day

people are treating the whole situation like i posted pictures of him from when he was a kid or leaked patreon content or drew him fully naked or anything else that, you know, would actually affect him in one way or another

what im doing is innocent fun which isnt even likely to reach either of them. will wood very rarely checks tumblr and, once again, i genuinely dont believe he would care. and gerard way aint got no internet + he doesnt care x 2

it is weird but rn this is what brings me the most joy, even if its silly to say. both will wood and gerard way mean a lot to me and putting them in situations together makes me happy. i am but a child full of fun whimsy

i wont be posting any more explicitly romantic art to avoid more drama, and i also wont be responding to all the anon messages i received because there are like .. too many of them. an overwhelming amount i'd say. sorry about that

i really didnt mean to cause such a fuss, and i understand why some people might be uncomfortable with what i do

i fully understand why you would dislike my waywood hyperfixation shenanigans, and i dont have a problem w you over that, but treating me like pure evil because of a thing so insignificant is just.. overdoing it

once again, i will be toning it down, but it really isnt the end of the world if i dare to draw will wood and gerard way being a tad bit gay (which is, i apparently need to mention, not me actually saying that will wood the alternative musician is a homosexual gay who is in a genuine for real actual real gay homosexual relationship with gerard fucking way the lead singer of my chemical romance. i think speculating on other people's sexuality and gender identity is boooo tomato tomato tomato)

sorry for the rant and sorry to all who were disappointed by my lack of remorse. come back in a couple years when i turn 18 and stop having fun and artistic freedom

thank you for your attention and i hope i at least cleared some things up to those who werent w me throughout every event where i get involved in fandom drama

bye bye

[delaneytveit]

I've said this before but like i also feel like it needs to be said again low key.

Morrigan is no one's friend.

Like yeah she's Rhysand's second in command and commander of Hewn City or whatever and his cousin. But there's no evdence that she ever really does anything, especially because Keir (her father) has most of the power anyways and they apparently even needed to distract him and the rest of Hewn City so that they could get whatever it was they needed in maf (tbh i didn't really pay that much attention to what they were going their for because i was too confused with the whole fact that Morrigan as the de facto ruler and Rhysand as the actual fucking ruler should have just been able to waltz into HC and just get whatever the fuck they wanted with no questions asked). She rides on his coattails and condemns the people that she supposedly helps rule over, but she doesn't do anything to enforce corrections. She's Rhysand's cousin who got the job because of nepotism and nothing more.

She's not Cassian's friend as apparent with the fact that she was willing to put him in mortal danger just to get herself out an arranged marriage. Which like yeah you do you girl but also she high key manipulated Cass into risking his life just to get laid by the girl that his supposed best friend is in love with. And with the fact that Mor explicitly said that she chose Cass because she knew that she could get him to do it makes it all the more icky.

She's not Azriel's friend because what do you mean you thought that far ahead to know that Cassian would absolutely fuck you but Azriel who is supposed to have been pinning for you, won't touch you so you know you can't go to him because he has too much honor. But you don't think far enough to even consider the fact that Cassian could be executed for even touching you??? And she doesn't even hide it. Azriel was the one to get her from the Autumn Court boarder in the first place. And she continues to just not acknowledge anything!!!

Like I get it, as a member of the queer alphabet, coming out is tough with your family. But my fucking god you can't just tell Azriel that you don't like him in that way? That you won't see him in that way? Just so that you can pretend to the rest of your "family" that yeah you only like males? The hyper sexuality just to push Azriel away is so fucking cruel when you refuse to have a single honest conversation with the male.

And she is no friend to any of the Archeron sisters. SF proved that Mor will put Rhysand's wishes before Feyre's. Morrigan fucking suggested that Nesta should be condemed to HC, knowing what happens to women their, simply for embarrassing the "Royal Family" with her sellf medication, nevermind the fact that everyone in the IC has done much worse. And I can't even remember an instance in which Mor had an interaction with Elain tbh.

But I digress. Thanks for coming to my tedtalk. Morrigan sucks and i low key don't want her to be the major betrayal just because it seems like an easy cop out. I just think that she's a horrible person. but thats okay because at least she's more interesting than RiceBoy in the corner.

[thr0wnawayy]

Dissecting the Jaku General Hospital Disaster and MHA's failures with complexity

Ahhh, The Jaku Hospital Raid. The point where MHA's story went from it's ever increasing decline to throwing itself right off a cliff.

(boooring)

I think most can agree this event was a travesty writing/plot wise, but how about all of those in regards to MHA's setting. Well that's what I'd like to discuss.

Point 1: A Goal Without a Plan is a Dream

The plan summed up is "fuck around and find out".

The heroes came in to uncharted enemy territory relying soley on brute force, broke a bunch of equipment that did God knows what (for all they knew, it could have been lethal*).

Then they proceed to shoot themselves in the foot by getting too cocky, despite knowing that Shigaraki was undergoing some sort of procedure. X-less shoots a machine that for all he knew could have been a bomb or generator. Why?, because he had a "bad feeling".

* I'm talking potential toxic fumes, gas leaks, accidental combustion, etc

Now let's focus on the evacuation effort...

Oh.

Oh FUCK!

That's it!?. A couple hundred dozen heroes and a select handful of first and third year's.

One of whom, mind you, is strictly combat oriented by the (extremely niche) capabilities of his quirk. What can Bakugo actually do here?, in the worst case scenario (being Shigaraki's awakening) he's limited to one arm and two legs (maybe his mouth?). That will further drag him down due to his quirk relying on both hands to be viable.

And we see this!

Moving along.

Another thing they didn't count on was outside help. The moment Gigantomechia arrives, it throws another curve ball. With the only reason for their survival being Dues-Ex-Machina Best "Dirty laundry" Jeanist.

They failed in the end anyways because a large portion of the LOV+ the MLA escaped.

Point 2: Organisms Used for Nefarious Means

I will keep this section brief

Nomu are in my opinion one of the biggest wastes of potential MHA produced. Going from being unnatural goliaths capable of striking dread into the hearts of even the long standing No1 Hero, to being undead cannonfodder that heroes can beat up so the audience doesn't question their ethics or (lack of) morality.

It is a sheer miracle that the Nomu didn't leave the heroes worse for wear. This is again more due to Hori relying too heavily on "convince" and not enough on in-world solutions, but I digress.

The Nomu should have been the biggest threat and again, the heroes failed to account for this. They had no way of knowing, sure.

But they should have accounted this early on. What about the civilians, evacuating them isn't enough as seen in Hosu. I mean they were walking into a lab and they had dealt with Nomu facilties before (Kamino)

Were there inpatients during the raid? and if so were they evacuated or did the Heroes say "fuck it." Given what eas allowed at Central Hospital I wouldn't put it past them.

Point 3: A civilians point of view.

I want you to imagine for a moment: You're a civilian and your whole life, you've been told how wonderful heroes are and how they'll always be there, after all they're heroes.

Sure, they may dictate what quirks are "in" and maaaybe they have a tad to much influence over your average person but they're licensed and your not.

Why question it?

Then one day everyone and everything you've known is just blown away. Heroes barge into your house and begin scrambling to get you and your family out of your house before something happens, they dont tell you what.

It is a sloppy and hurried effort, your life's belongings tucked into a small carryon if you're lucky and some plastic bags if you're not. They tell you it's probably only temporary and you'll be back to normal shortly.

Then the nearby Hospital blows up. You and your family can only watch as heroes flee from the scene, some rising into the sky, others sprinting like hell. You barely make it out alive yourselves.

Within minutes everything is gone and it's not until the fightings iver that you hear it. You hear people (you think it's your neighbors) pleading in pain underneath the rubble, a little girl can be heard sobbing somewhere in the torn landscape.

Everything's been torn upside down.

And the heroes, the poeple you've depended on your whole life...

They quit. They say they need to find another line of work.

Is that what you are to them!?. Just another line of work, a number on a tally!?.

Worse still. The NUMBER ONE HERO has just been exposed by his presumed to be dead son for being a child beating, wife trafficking, eugenist with an implication that some, if not all of his children were made against the mother's will.

The current Number 2 murdered a man for the "greater good" (what even is "good" anymore).

The people who were supposed to protect you are quitting in droves, leaving vast portions of city to fall to villains and are refusing to take any responsibility for their negligence and poor planning that made an already bad situation worse.

Oh, also the single most dangerous villain in history has broken out of Tartarus and multiple prisons have been destroyed leading to further destruction.

This is then followed by a "blackout" period. Heroes give zero insight into what they're doing or what their plan is. Mutant discrimination is running wild, support gear is flooding the streets and any protests are being silenced.

So I'll ask you again, how do you react?.

Point 4: Hubris

Over all the entire operation was a complete and utter failure. I see alot of people giving the civilians flack for their strong reactions, but honestly I can't blame 'em.

The issue is Hori paints the narrative to minimize the damage towards the heroes. (For example he characterizes one of Enji's critics as a snobby shut-in surrounded by trash bags). We only ever see the worst aspects of the civilians because Hori has consistently failed to delve into anything beyond surface level emotion/themes.

Eri is a good example, she should be a very different character. She should be allowed to show her trauma and all the "ugly" emotions and baggage that come with that, we as the audience should see the lasting impact being killed repeatedly has had on her.

For example, Eri should be very adverse to touch. A problem that started with her father and was worsened by Kai.

She should be expressing her trauma through play (think reenacting her "surgeries" on dolls)

She should be distrustful and even cold (especially after Mirio abadoned her).

Her inability to smile might stem from a lack of viewing her self as equal to others, viewing herself as more of an object than human being.

But do we ever see this. No.

Because Hori doesn't let us. He simply as a writer, cannot appropriately handle or even seem to grasp complexity and every part of the story suffers because of it.

With the civilians it's no different and as a result Hori whether intentionally or not, twists the narrative to make them seem unreasonable.

This doesn't help when from what we've seen a shocking amount of MHA's main cast are drenched in hypocrisy. The only experiences we've had with the civilian population is through Shigaraki's backstory (bad) Toga's parents (very bad).

It's just not a good look.

Conclusion:

Over-all, the Raid and by extention the war was a mess in every aspect and I personally think the story would have been better off doing something else.

The time wasted here could have gone to any number of things (how about fleshing out the non existant world building) but I honestly believe that it would have been subpar regardless, it's all to apparent Hori had no idea where he wanted the story to go. That can be seen as far back as everything post MVA.

Just, what a mess.