#and they never stop encouraging each other

[inkedinshadows]

The Value of Love

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader

A/N: Thank you @batboyslutt for this request! I had so many different ideas for it, but unfortunately I could choose only one. I hope you enjoy it! 🫶🏻 and sorry for posting it later than usual, but I'm writing these day by day

Prompts: "We shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong." + "Why can't you just admit the truth?" + angst + smut + forbidden romance because of Rhys

Warnings: smut, p in v, creampie, bit of miscommunication, arguments

Word count: 1.5k

Azriel’s kisses grew more insistent as his mouth trailed down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin there. Your eyes were closed, your hands tangled in his hair, sliding down his back, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he mumbled against your skin, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even lift his head from the crook of your neck. “This is wrong.”

So he’d said—multiple times already.

You rolled your eyes. “Azriel,” you groaned. You cupped his cheeks and forced him to meet your gaze. “If you say that one more time while you’re balls-deep inside me, I am going to leave. Is that clear?”

Azriel’s hips faltered mid-thrust, then stilled, though he didn’t pull out. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide, his hair thoroughly mussed from your fingers running through it.

For a moment, you just stared at each other.

It was an argument you’d had more than once before, and you knew this wouldn’t be the last time. But for him to bring it up during sex? That, you would not stand for.

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He lowered his head to rest his forehead on your chest, his breath warm against your flushed skin. “I’m sorry, princess.”

You sighed. Careful not to brush against his slumped wings, you wrapped your arms around him and tugged him closer.

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” you murmured. These were some of the last few moments you’d have together before he left for the continent, and you had no intention of wasting them on the same old conversation. “I think we were in the middle of something.”

Azriel lifted his head to look at you, gratitude flickering in his gaze before a smirk bloomed on his beautiful face. “Yes, we were.”

He rolled his hips once, driving himself deeper inside you, and you gasped softly. From there, it was easy to forget the last couple of minutes and focus on nothing but each other.

Azriel resumed his movements, thrusting into you with slow, deep strokes that drew groans from both of you. Each sound was swallowed by a kiss—lips and tongues eager to meet, hands wandering across hard planes and soft curves. Your bodies moved together as if they were made for this, as if you and he were the only beings in the whole world and nothing else mattered.

Pleasure coiled tight in your core, ready to snap with each deliberate thrust. A whispered plea was all Azriel needed to pick up the pace. He brushed his lips up your jaw to your ear, murmuring quiet encouragements and tender words that made your heart swell.

With a breathy moan, you squirmed beneath him, fingers digging into the muscles of his arms as pleasure overwhelmed you. Azriel was close behind you, your release tipping him over the edge as well. He rocked his hips a few more times before spilling himself inside you, holding himself there for a moment, panting against your ear as you both slowly came down from your high.

You turned your head to capture his lips in another kiss, trying to convey everything you felt for him through that simple gesture—the affection, the desire, the emotions you still hadn’t voiced aloud.

Azriel kissed you back, pressing you into the mattress before rolling onto his side. He opened his arms, and you immediately snuggled closer, curling up against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, and for a few moments, you simply lay there, basking in the quiet afterglow.

But as the minutes ticked by and the lingering passion faded, his words crept back into your mind. You tried to push them away, to focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest and the lazy strokes of his hand along your back, but they refused to leave.

You hesitated briefly before speaking, your voice quiet. “Why can’t you just admit the truth?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s just…” You searched for the right words, trying not to sound too confrontational. “You always say you don’t want my brother to know because he’s very protective of me, but I think there’s more to it.”

Azriel hummed, seemingly unconvinced. “And what do you think it is, then?”

“I think you’re scared,” you admitted. “Scared of how he’d react if he found out. That he’d tell you you don’t deserve to be with me and that I should find someone else.”

His hand stilled where it had been tracing slow circles on your hip. His expression was unreadable, his golden-brown eyes fixed on you for a long moment. Then, without a word, he pulled away. Sitting up against the headboard, his wings stretched wide behind him, casting shadows over the sheets.

“That’s not what this is about,” he said. His voice was firm, but his gaze didn’t meet yours.

You pushed yourself up as well, keeping your eyes on him. You had thought about this for a long time now—how your brother would react if he knew about your relationship. You weren’t naive. You knew Rhys would be furious at first. But you also knew he would come around and realize that his little sister was grown, that he couldn’t keep males away from her forever. That she could choose for herself who to love.

“Az,” you called, taking his hand in yours. You waited until he finally looked at you again before you continued. “I know telling him might seem terrifying, but Rhys would be happy to know it’s you. You’re his best friend, and I’m his sister. If we make each other happy, why would he be against it?”

Azriel shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

That excuse again. It’s not that simple. You make it sound so easy. You don’t understand. He wouldn’t understand. Always the same words, but never a real answer.

And you were growing tired of it.

Frustration flared hot in your chest as you pulled your hand back.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded. Your tone was sharper than intended, but you didn’t particularly care anymore. “Because from where I’m standing, the only other explanation is that you value Rhysand’s friendship more than… whatever this thing between us is.”

Azriel’s brow knitted together, his expression torn between confusion and disbelief. “You know what this is, princess. You know I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

The words hung heavy in the air. You saw the flicker of hurt in his hazel eyes, and your chest ached in response. But you didn’t take it back. You couldn’t.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His voice was quieter now, cautious.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze and push the words out. “It means that saying the words isn’t enough. You have to show me. And right now, you’re not doing a great job.”

Azriel inhaled sharply, as if stung. “At least I love you.”

The moment the words left his lips, regret flashed across his face. But it was too late.

They landed like a blade to the chest, slicing through the last thread of your patience.

“Y/N, I—”

You batted away the hand he reached toward you and instead got up to collect the clothes scattered on the floor.

“I do love you, Azriel,” you said, voice tight as you yanked your underwear back on. “But do you want to know why I never told you?”

He looked startled by your declaration at first, but he quickly nodded when he realized you were waiting for an answer.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” you admitted, fingers swiftly buttoning up your shirt. "Because you want to keep this a secret, while I think that what we have is worth so much more than just a few stolen moments in the dark.” You slipped into your trousers, your eyes still on him. “Because I’m tired of hiding from my friends and family just because you’re scared of how my brother might react.”

Azriel said nothing. His jaw was tense, his gaze locked onto the crumpled blankets, refusing to meet your gaze.

Despite the ache in your heart, you stepped back toward the door.

“I won’t hide anymore,” you went on. “Not when it makes you miserable, but you refuse to change it. It's making me miserable too.” You let out a deep breath. “You have to make a choice, Azriel. But if you really love me like you say you do… then it should be an easy one.”

Your fingers curled around the doorknob. Still, he didn’t look at you—didn’t try to talk you out of it, to convince you to stay, to stop you from leaving.

Your blood boiled in your veins.

“Good luck on your mission,” you spat, slamming the door behind you.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[salty-autistic-writer]

Written for @bucktommyfluffebruary, Day 8: Surprise

Buck watches intently, as Tommy eats a piece of lemon loaf. 

It’s been a few days since they made up - And made out. A lot. - and Buck told Tommy all about his baking frenzy. Which led to some curiosity. And to this. Tommy takes a good bite, chews, hums, then licks his finger and nods. “Hm.”

“What?” Buck asks, frowning, because that definitely wasn’t an “it’s so delicious” hum.

Tommy shrugs, glancing at Buck. “It’s … good. There’s just something missing.” “Missing,” Buck repeats, baffled. “But it’s lemon loaf! I have baked at least ten lemon loafs these past few weeks!”

Tommy smiles weakly. “I’m just being honest, Evan. That’s something we promised to each other right?”

Right. They did promise to be honest and not hold things back from each other this time. Buck still doesn’t like Tommy's reaction. And he can’t help but bite, “So you’re the lemon loaf expert now? Are you saying your lemon loaf would be better than mine?”

Tommy raises an amused brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“Uh. That depends, I guess. Are you … baking? Because I’ve never seen you do it,” Buck says. All he remembers is Tommy buying pastry from the bakery. Lots of pastry. But he has never seen Tommy do more than Christmas cookies with Jee.

Tommy shrugs. “Occasionally? It’s not my favourite hobby, but as a kid, I’ve been spending a lot of time at my grandmother’s house. She was my favourite person in the world. Made me feel loved and cherished no matter what. I often watched her in the kitchen. She was always talking while cooking and baking, telling me important things. Also, she had this journal, filled with all of her favourite recipes. I still have it. And lemon loaf was in it.”

That’s cute, Buck decides, his chest warming with the mental image of little Tommy, watching his grandmother bake.

“You know what? It should be a challenge,” he decides, grinning. “I want to know who can bake the better lemon loaf.”

Tommy frowns. “Are you sure? We just got back together …”

“Come on, it's not like baking lemon loaf is going to cause some kind of meltdown,” Buck says with a shrug. “We are adults. I can accept defeat if it’s fair.”

Tommy smiles. “Alright. And who is going to have the honour to be our jury?”

“Man. What did you do? I trusted you!” Chimney complains, arms crossed and brows furrowed as he glares up at Tommy. “You were supposed to make him stop, not encourage him to bake even more! We’ve all had enough cake to last a lifetime!”

“Well then you can try at least one last piece,” Tommy says dryly, shrugging.

“So which one is yours and which one is Buck’s?” Maddie asks, looking between the loaves that look pretty much identical, with a small smile.

“No, we are not telling you. You are supposed to be neutral!” Buck explains. “The name of the winner will be on the note attached to the plate. Just eat a piece of each and then tell us which one you prefer!”

“Alright,” Chimney sighs. “Let’s get it over with.”

Tommy and Buck watch as Chimney and Maddie eat some of both lemon loaves - then come back for seconds. Buck’s excitement grows as he watches them look at each other, still chewing, then at the loaves, brows furrowed in concentration.

“This one,” Maddie decides, pointing at the left loaf.

“Yeah. I agree. And … I actually have to say, I wouldn’t mind eating the whole thing,” Chimney says with a sigh, rubbing his stomach.

Okay. That’s ... a surprise. Buck already knows before Maddie turns to read the note since this loaf has a gleam his own doesn’t have. It’s Tommy’s. Tommy actually baked a better lemon loaf. 

“Yay,” Tommy says, smiling like he forgot that all of Buck’s lemon loaves only existed because of him. Buck feels a spark of irritation. “Where’s my lemon loaf award?”

Buck scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay, so you can make a better lemon loaf. Congratulation. But what about scones, huh? It’s not that easy to bake them without making them crumble, you know?"

Chimney groans. Maddie giggles. Tommy raises a brow and asks innocently, “Whatever happened to you being able to accept defeat, babe?”

Buck glares at him. “Wait till we’re alone! I will show you defeat!"

"Oh? But don't you want to know my secret ingredient, Evan?"

"Trust me. You will tell me when I'm done with you."

“Aaaaand that’s it. Thank you. Bye. We are leaving. But not without this!” Chimney calls with a grimace, grabbing Tommy’s lemon loaf and Maddie’s arm, walking right out the door, with Maddie waving and laughing.

The great Buck and Tommy bake-off ends with Buck showing Tommy something he’s very good at: Making him beg.

(AO3 Link)

[cyberesc]

BEST ENEMY. (1/3)

ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Villain(?)Reader

synopsis: He's the Number One Hero, you're his greatest enemy, and yet no matter how much blood stains your hands, Izuku can't bring himself to stop loving you.

˖⁺‧₊˚ tags & warnings: heavy angst, mentions of blood/violence, mentions of alcoholism, morally grey themes, self-loathing, "if things were different" vibes, unresolved tension

note: I was in the mood for some angst, i wrote this drabble listening to //Ma Meilleure Ennemie// and was inspired by Ekko and Jinxs' relationship

part 2 | part 3

A melody plays in the background as Izuku polishes the armor of his suit, careful with each groove and scratch. His hands are methodical, just like they were the night before when they had closed around your throat.

He’s spent years mastering his self-control, but every time he fights you, it unravels. You make him reckless. Sloppy.

The melody plays on repeat in the dim silence of his apartment, a relic of simpler times. Homecoming. Your hand in his, guiding him through a dance neither of you were particularly good at, but it didn’t matter. You laughed at his awkward footwork, and he swore he’d never felt so warm.

He should stop listening to the song, stop scrubbing away phantom blood that will never truly wash off, stop thinking about the way you smiled at him as he nearly killed you.

You always did have a way of twisting a knife in his heart and making it feel like a lover’s embrace.

Izuku has been in love with you for as long as he’s known what love is.

It was an innocent thing, once. Snot-nosed kids whispering dreams in the dark, two outcasts clinging to each other like lifelines. He wanted to be a hero. You never did.

But you humored him.

You encouraged his dreams, smiled and cheered for him when no one else would, cleaned his wounds when Bakugo shoved him into the dirt. He thought, maybe, if he became strong enough, if he became the kind of hero you could believe in, you wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

He was wrong.

He knows the way your mind works, the cynicism carved into your bones long before you had the words to explain it. Even as a child, you saw the cracks in the system, the hypocrisy in the heroes you were supposed to admire. He wonders if you ever truly believed in him, or if you just didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

He should hate you.

He wants to hate you.

But when you’re standing across from him, bloodied and grinning, taunting him, all he sees is the person who held him together when he was falling apart.

And that’s why it has to be him.

You both know it.

If you ever go down, it’ll be by his hands.

And if anyone is going to break him beyond repair, it’ll be by yours.

You tilt your head, watching him. He feels stripped bare under your gaze, as if you can see the cracks forming in his resolve.

“You tried to kill me.” Your grin widens, something cruel curling at the edges. “How does it feel?”

His stomach churns. You talk about your near death as if it was a good thing, like his fingers hadn’t trembled around your throat, like you hadn’t looked up at him with relief as he nearly ended you.

He turns on his heel.

“Running away so soon?” you call after him, voice laced with disappointment.

Izuku doesn’t answer. If he stays, he’ll do something reckless again. And he’s already drowning in enough guilt to kill him.

He drowns it the only way he knows how.

The burn of alcohol is nothing compared to the memory of you.

Izuku doesn’t drink often, not really. He knows it’s a bad habit, knows he’s letting you win every time he lets himself spiral. But after that night, after nearly killing you...

He needed something to shut you out.

His fingers tighten around his glass, knuckles white. He wonders, bitterly, if you’d laugh at him for this. If you’d be proud of yourself for breaking the Number One Hero down to this.

Somewhere between his third and fourth drink, he stops wondering.

The next morning, he wakes up with a stranger in his bed, someone whose eyes are the wrong color and hair the wrong shade. He feels bad waking them up but not bad enough to let them stay.

You meet again in the ruins of a battlefield, smoke curling in the air, blood staining the ground.

Izuku is breathing hard, hands shaking from exhaustion. You’re grinning like you haven’t just barely escaped death.

He should say something. Should demand answers, should beg you to stop this.

“I hate you,” he breathes instead.

You laugh, head tilting as if he just said something endearing. “I know."

His jaw clenches. “I wish I never met you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, cleaning your knifes on the ledge of the building.

Izuku stares at you with a raw ache in his chest. He should finish this. Right here, right now.

He stares at you for a few moments, watching your fingers clean the metal of your blade. A chill runs down his spine at the familiar routine.

He shouldn’t be happy that you’d kept an eye on him, that you couldn’t stay away even if you tried.

After a long pause of silence, you look up at him with furrowed brows at his inaction, mouth in a firm line. You were giving him a chance. He missed it, again.

You look down at the road below you, not bothering to spare him a glance as you jumped from the ledge.

“See you soon, hero.”

And then you’re gone, disappearing into the foggy night.

Izuku is left standing there, the weight of his own heart suffocating him.

He wants to hate you.

But he never will.

© property of cyberesc 2025. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[thetireddoktor]

Cotl AU: Webs of Fate

Below is the beginning of my Lore for my Au: Webs of fate

How the Bishops Earn Their Crowns

The Crowns are not given freely. They are not inherited, or are they simply bestowed by divine right. To earn a Crown, one must suffer, not just any suffering, but a loss that reflects the opposite of the power they are destined to wield. Only through enduring the very thing they are meant to counterbalance can they be deemed worthy.

Each Bishop's ascension follows the same cruel cycle:

They live, unaware of what they will become.

They face great loss—the negative reflection of their future power.

In the depths of that suffering, the Crown appears to them.

If they accept it, they are forever changed, marked as a Bishop/God.

The Bishops and Their Trials

Shamura, Crown of Peace → Loss through War

Watched their home burn. Their people slaughtered.

The Webs of Fate, reduced to ash by their own mother.

Only after war took everything did the Crown of Peace appear.

Their irony: They wear the Crown of Peace, yet they have become War itself.

Kallamar, Crown of Healing → Loss through Pestilence

Watched disease consume his people, helpless to stop it.

Every healer, every cure—failed.

Only after the sickness had claimed everything did the Crown of Healing appear.

His irony: Now he can heal, but he could never save the ones he loved.

Leshy, Crown of Order → Loss through Chaos

Lived in a world of wild, untamed destruction.

No structure. No control. Anarchy devoured all.

Only after his world collapsed under chaos did the Crown of Order appear.

His irony: He now enforces Order, but he was born from Ruin.

Heket, Crown of Harvest → Loss through Famine

Watched crops wither, animals die, people starve.

No matter how hard she fought, there was never enough.

Only after hunger had taken everything did the Crown of Harvest appear.

Her irony: She creates abundance, yet she knows what it means to starve.

Narinder, Crown of Death → Loss through Life (or Immortality?)

He watched the cycle of life continue endlessly, trapping him.

Or he saw others die while he remained, unable to follow.

Only after he lost his connection to death did the Crown of Death appear.

His irony: He rules over death, yet he is cursed to never die.

Before Narinder's imprisonment

The crowns had different eyes based on their uncorrupted powers. All eyes are inspired based on symbols based on their ability.

Shamura's was the first to become corrupted, their 'Peace' hardly lasting more than a few centuries, turning from a Sun to a Crescent moon, much like the one in Cotl. "The rising sun after peace, dawn shining over a new day.

When the corruption takes hold, it twists into the shape of a crescent, a harbinger of change. It signifies that the sun has set on peace, ushering in the cold, unrelenting night of war." The "Corruption" is Shamura's trauma, from their loss. Shamura, though they had lost their way, works to keep their Siblings from falling from grace like they had, being the Wise elder sibling they needed, encouraged them to expand outside their comfort zones. Some tried to expand their power more than others. I guess this is the uhm.. Most I've gotten so far. I hope yall enjoyed reading. Next up, Shamura's Origin's.

[11queensupreme11]

So I have a question? You know that song lyric “Would you still love me if I’m no longer young and beautiful?” By Lana Del Rey. Okay so I’m gonna give you a scenario I’ve been thinking about adding to my story (as a draft for the next interlude after I finish the next reaction chapter)

So it goes a little like this:

Let say Percy who was a goddess (like in the last ask) got cheated on by Cu and, in her despair, killed herself.

(This is just a draft but I do plan on starting the chapter with her suicide note to her children first. Then to each of the yans individually. And maybe a couple to the friends and family she made on the way. So like a note to Shiva and his wives, Adamas, maybe Hercules and Prometheus, and…Ra(surprise! 🤭) honestly, I plan on making his a mixture of kinda funny/sarcastic, but also nostalgic and sad.)

Everyone finds out of course. And Zeus, devestated by the loss of his favorite neice, incensed by the disrespect shown to the Greek Pantheon by the Celtic Pantheon, spurred on by his son, brothers, and pantheon’s devestation and righteous anger at Percy’s death, along with the Egyptian, Norse, Abrahamic,Hindu, etc. Pantheons’ anger with what Cu did, obviously, declare war. The heavens are split and in utter chaos as the two sides form and each side is gathering allies for the upcoming war (it’ll be known as the “The Divine Schism” later on.

So, as u can imagine, this results in a lot of death, a lot of emotions flying around, and it isn’t even just the gods fighting other gods. Or Percy’s children fighting her other children(wish she begged them in her letter not to do, but she’s gone now; and her children are just as unhinged as their dads) . It also causes the humans to fight too because she was friends with a lot of them and a lot of them blame the Celtic people for 1)encouraging the views that made Cu think it was okay to do that (which is hypocritical because they still believe or once believed and would have done the same thing just due to the time period they were raised/born into, but a lot of them liked Percy so she was the exception) and 2) for not trying harder to keep him under control back when he was still a human on Midgard (Papa Adam is REALLY disappointed).

ANYWAY!

At this point, the war has gotten bad enough that the Fates, the Morrigan, the Norns, and all the other gods and goddesses related to fate and destiny realize that sooner or later the gods are going to end up fighting each other into extinction (with the humans in Vallhalla doing the same) and so they do some research (through their powers which were given to them by “the-Powers-that-Be” (which I actually mentioned in a chapter already but basically that’s the power that created them, their universe, and all the other universes that exist or will ever exist) and find out that, while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated into a different universe and nope🤭🤭it’s NOT the PJO universe. Which universe it is, I’m going to keep that a secret for now but I wouldn’t mind doing a poll to see which universe everyone would WANT her to be in. It might even help me decide. (just know it’s gonna be an anime universe. So either One Piece, Bleach, Naruto, or something else. It’ll have to be one I’ve read or watched before tho.) but it’s a secret, even to me, until I actually sit down and write this chapter.

Anyway, they find her reincarnated soul (in this I think I’m going to make it so that she only remembers SOME of her past life as a goddess and a demigod and it comes to her in her dreams) and, in order to stop the godly war that threatens the very foundations of their universe, they sit the Pantheons down (what’s left of them anyway) and tell them about what happened and where she is now. This, of course revitalizes the yans (ESPECIALLY CU!!!) because they see it as a second chance to get her back and make SURE she NEVER leaves them EVER again. (I’m talking they might actually lock her in a palace where they watch her every move 24/7 for the rest of eternity)

So they come up with a plan to basically kidnap her from this other plane. In this other universe tho, she’s lived a full, happy life. Sure it had some challenges (if she’s in One Piece I’m gonna make it so that she was Ace’s sister so she def fought in Marineford (love interest: Shanks), if in Bleach I’m making her the Captain of one of the divisions (Love interest:Sosuke Aizen 🤭🤭), if in Naruto ( I honestly can’t see her as an assassin/killer which is literally all ninjas are trained to do when u get to the crux of it so maybe like a political figure of peace? A daiymo maybe? Idk I’d have to figure it out (love interest: Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha, or Madara Uchiha depending on what time period I want her to be reincarnated into)

I plan on having her influence a lot of stuff, fall in love, have children with said Love Interest, and be an old lady by the time they start looking for her ( might have to write this in three parts since I do want to dedicate a chapter to her life in that other universe).

I’m still trying to figure out all the logistics since I want it to be believable and not just super random and unorganized because there are a lot of moving parts.

But my question to u is what do u think the yans will think (at this point in time) or do about an old, grandma version of Percy? Will it matter to them? She won’t be the same Percy at this point. She might remember some things about them but for the most part she won’t remember them and tho she might have the same morals as the last Percy, because of the stuff she went through in this new universe, she isn’t just physically different (old) but mentally too.

EVERYTHING HERE IS PERFECT BUT I JUST HAVE ONE CORRECTION:

"while Percy did die when she killed herself, for whatever reason, she didn’t end up going to Niflheim and instead got reincarnated"

it's niflhel!!! niflhel (or oblivion, nonexistence, whatever) is where all gods and mortal souls (after dying in the afterlife) go to when they die!

anyway.................

AIZEN SOSUKE????????? AND KAKASHI????????????

dude i genuinely don't know who to vote for, kakashi has been my anime crush SINCE I WAS A LITTLE GIRL, and aizen's so fucking daddy too omg why would you make us pick between them that's so cruel 😭😭😭😭😭😭

as for your question, age wouldn't matter much to them cuz they can just forcefully revert her back to her prime or back to whatever age/appearance they last saw her as!

the issue is the mentality 😞 if she's too different (like if she's not the same sweet, cheery, uwu, and infuriatingly annoying and troublesome girl that they know, then they might actually feel defeated. it's percy.... but at the same time it's not THEIR percy

tbh they'd probably try to find a way to revert her back to the percy they know, but if that doesn't work or they can't do it, then it's back to despair and anger 💀

[gayofthefae]

Season 2 and the timing of it all. How it is fully necessary.

Mike can only tell Will he's the best thing to ever happen to him at the beginning of that episode, because he wouldn't have been able to after El came back.

Mike only dances with El after Will has stopped being an option to him.

In season 1, Mike kisses El when Will is not a present option. In season 2, Mike dances with El when Will no longer an option. In season 3, Mike goes back to El when Will tells him he's done being an option. In season 4, Mike tells El he loves her when Will tells him it's his only option.

On the other hand, we have Mike choosing between calling El and following Will and choosing Will. We have Mike apologizing to Will for ever choosing El, even calling himself stupid for it. And we have smaller choices, ones he's allowed to make within the forced ones, like staying by his side when El walks ahead. Like sitting beside him instead of El.

Even the small moments for Mike and El. Max was also present for blank makes you crazy but left. Lucas pushed him to sit with El, making a plan and putting into action before he could say anything. Lucas took him to the mall for an apology gift. Dustin and Nancy encouraged Mike to be with El in season 1.

He is happy with her. But he has never chosen her. He only seems to because unlike the others, he is consistently left without choice. All the other are together and choose each other and these two are also together, so we fill in the blanks, assuming the pattern.

Always remember the themes in every couple as love being AUTONOMY. Everyone is given options freely to choose their partner or not. Mike never has been. Not once. Maybe he would have if this were life, who knows. But them WRITING it as involuntary tells us everything we need to know.

Love is autonomy. Love is not making do of your situation.

"built up for 4 seasons" he's stuck. Every time he gets an inkling of wiggle room he moves towards Will before he's choked off and pushed back. He isn't being pulled to her by magnetic force. He's being dragged by a rope.

[sturniololuvz]

heyyy could you do a fic where 4 year old sister refuses to wear anything but the boys sweatshirts? and when they try to get her to wear her own clothes she cries and throws a fit

yessss!

“Little Hoodie Thief”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings: none

It started off cute.

Y/N had waddled into the living room one morning, drowning in one of Chris’s sweatshirts, the sleeves dragging on the floor as she clutched her sippy cup. Chris had laughed, scooping her up and calling her his “mini-me.”

Then, the next day, she showed up in one of Nick’s hoodies.

Then Matt’s.

And before the triplets knew it, their four-year-old little sister was refusing to wear anything except their sweatshirts.

At first, they let it slide. It was adorable watching her stomp around in their oversized hoodies, the sleeves covering her hands like little mittens. But then, one morning, their mom tried to dress her in actual clothes, and all hell broke loose.

“Y/N, baby, you have a whole closet of cute outfits,” she said, holding up a little pink sweater. “How about this one?”

Y/N shook her head aggressively. “No! Matty’s hoodie!”

Matt, sitting at the kitchen table, raised an eyebrow. “You wanna wear my hoodie?”

Y/N nodded, crossing her arms stubbornly.

Chris smirked. “Kinda sounds like you have no choice, bro.”

Their mom sighed, rubbing her temples. “She can’t live in your sweatshirts forever, guys. Talk to her.”

Intervention Time

The triplets found Y/N sitting on the couch, drowning in Nick’s blue hoodie, watching Bluey like she had no worries in the world.

Matt sat beside her. “Bug, why don’t you wanna wear your own clothes?”

Y/N barely looked at him. “I like yours better.”

Chris plopped down on the other side. “But why, though?”

Y/N turned to him like the answer was obvious. “They smell like you.”

Nick melted on the spot. “Aw, dude—”

Matt shot him a look. “Don’t encourage this.”

Chris grinned. “You just love us so much, huh?”

Y/N nodded. “Yep.”

Matt sighed. “That’s cute and all, but you need to wear your own clothes, okay?”

Y/N immediately frowned. “No.”

“Y/N—”

Before Matt could finish, she burst into tears.

Like, full-on meltdown.

“NOOOO!” Y/N wailed, flopping onto the couch dramatically. “I WANT NICKY’S HOODIE!”

Nick held back a laugh. “Damn, bro, she really said ‘ride or die.’”

Chris was dying. “She’s literally acting like you just took away her whole world.”

Matt groaned. “Dude, this is so not funny.”

But the thing was—it was funny. Y/N was rolling around, clutching Nick’s hoodie like it was the most precious thing she owned, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks.

“I NEED IT!” she sobbed.

Nick sighed, looking at the others. “…What if we just let her keep one?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, like, compromise. She gets one triplet hoodie.”

Matt exhaled. “Fine. But only one.”

Nick turned to Y/N, who was still sniffling. “Okay, Bug, you can keep one hoodie.”

Y/N immediately stopped crying.

Like, immediately.

She wiped her face and blinked up at them. “Really?”

Chris smirked. “Yep. But only one. Which one do you want?”

Y/N looked between them, then down at the hoodie she was already wearing. She grabbed the sleeve of Nick’s hoodie and pulled it close.

“Nicky’s.”

Nick beamed. “Hell yeah, Bug.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Favoritism, man.”

Matt sighed. “At least we got her to wear something normal under it.”

And just like that, Y/N won.

Because the truth was, she was never just gonna wear one.

By the end of the week, she had successfully stolen one hoodie from each brother.

And they let her.

Because, really—how could they say no to her?

[eneslobby]

I’m just going to talk about the “abuse” implication here. I’m a Caitlyn defender, but that doesn’t mean I think her actions her *justified*. I mean that I understand how circumstances and emotions led her to hit vi.

In my eyes, vi is not innocent here at all, at least not from Cait’s perspective. I completely agree that vi stopping Caitlyn from shooting was a good thing and I’m glad she did it, but in Caitlyn’s eyes it was a betrayal. Vi, before they found jinx, was basically telling Cait that her sister is gone and just shoot to kill her. Vi, in this way, fed into Caitlyn’s revenge, justifying her and giving her thumbs up to kill her sister.

So when they fight jinx, caitlyn is in overwhelming distress because she is facing the creature of her nightmares and is so tunnel visioned she can’t see anything else, not even that she’s about to shoot a child. She wants so badly to kill jinx and expects vi to be on her side, but then vi stops her from taking the shot (vi did the right thing here). This is the second time vi stops Caitlyn from taking the shot. After the first time, Cait was blaming herself and not vi (I think deep down she was blaming vi a little bit). But after the second time, Caitlyn is fully blaming vi. Caitlyn feels betrayed by the very person that encouraged her earlier and she thought stood by her side (and I kinda understand her). Caitlyn tells her that vi is no different from her sister, and then vi tells Cait that “she is the one acting like her”. I agree with vi here, but can you imagine hearing the person you love comparing to your kidnapper and your mother’s killer? In Caitlyn’s eyes, vi chose jinx over her and she’s enraged and feels betrayed. Caitlyn is trying to get away from vi in that moment, but vi stops her. Caitlyn, who in a in a state of rage right after a panic attack from facing jinx, hits vi with the back of her gun and and leaves her there.

Now, what Caitlyn has done is bad and we should definitely be upset at that (I can’t even rewatch this scene Because it upsets me so much). She hurt vi deeply, but when you call her an abuser is when you lose me. For a person in immense pressure that feels so betrayed by the other person, it makes sense to hit them to push them away. It’s not okay, but it is understandable. Usually anti Cait people just call her an abuser and don’t try to understand her side and that’s what upsets me. Vi and cait both hurt each other in that situation, but only Cait gets the blame.

To sum up, what upsets me is that anti Cait people don’t try to understand both sides and call Caitlyn an abuser for snapping in a high pressure situation. Caitlyn is not justified, but she is not an abuser nor vi is completely innocent here. They are both flawed humans in a tv show where tragedies happen regularly. So in my eyes the haters never really criticize the writing, they just don’t like what happened and can’t make sense of it, so they are trying to blame the “bad” writing.

Sorry for the long post I’m passionate about this.

MY TAKE ON THE CAITVI DISCOURSE

total wordcount: 1591

I will say that I've briefly commented on their dynamic in the past, but it was worded really badly so I feel like I need to defend my writing skills a little bit as well with this, but that's just a sidenote. 💀

I think what a lot of people are missing when people do criticise CaitVi is that they aren't necessarily hating on the ship, it's what writing choices have done to it.

I'm not even going to even say I'm a CaitVi hater, I'm not (S1 CaitVi my beloved, you deserved better), but I do think the choices that writers made this season heavily effected how audiences portrayed the ship, even including myself.

Idk I hope this insight might give some people more perspective on why CaitVi became so hated in this season, people rlly need to start looking at both sides and not taking criticism as a personal attack. It really could've been avoided too if the writers had added more time or extended the series onto a third season, but that's another issue on its own.

1. Caitlyn hits Vi

I really don't get why people are so quick to defend Caitlyn on this one, especially considering the amount of hate Vi got when she hit Powder. Are both inexcusable? Yes. But I do think that the situation is a little different when it's a fifteen year old child who had just witnessed the death of her entire family and a twenty something year old woman who took out her anger and grief on the woman she loved because she blocked her shot.

I do think that people also do ignore the immense amount of trauma that Caitlyn suffered at the hand of Jinx, but unlike when Vi 'abandoned' Powder, (again, that's a whole other conversation, we know she was not abandoned), Vi was not that direct source of anguish to Caitlyn the way Powder was to Vi. (Pls lmk if you want me to expand further on this)

Again, not excusing Vi hitting Powder, I'm pointing out the differences.

It's then also incredibly tone deaf when Caitlyn hits her on two more occasions with the same gun, the third time being played off as a joke. It really doesn't come off well, especially when Vi had been a victim of police-brutality even before the abuse she faced at the hands of the enforcers in Stillwater.

And then, even after all this, it's never addressed. It's brushed over, like Vi's entire trauma in the show, the most we get is Caitlyn brushing her hand over Vi's abdomen in the cell scene. Again, can be taken as an apology, but I think that for some very specific things (like hitting your romantic partner), verbal apologies do need to be made in order to communicate healthily and somewhat build a healthier relationship.

I don't really want to talk about the abusive implications of this, because I don't think I'm someone who can talk about it with a full understanding because that's something I've fortunately never been through, but the blatant disregard and shunning of abuse survivors when they pull up the red flags raised because of this is disgusting. In real life, or if it had even been someone else in the show, if the ship had been a heterosexual relationship, people would call Caitlyn an abuser and would be outraged that Vi had been paired with her in the end. But I digress.

1. The cell sex scene

Initially I hadn't been too bothered about this when I had first watched the episode, but when you really think about it, it shouldn't have happened. Hell, they could've had sex in Caitlyn's office and half of the criticism wouldn't have happened, the ship wouldn't be so hated and the fandom wouldn't be half as divided as it is now (from what I've seen).

First and foremost, the cell.

All I can say is wtf. It was such a poor choice it's actually unfathomable to me now. I don't know why the writers thought that it'd be a good idea for Caitlyn and Vi to have their first time in a jail cell, not only the one Jinx had been locked in, but the one Vi had herself been locked in for what we can assume to be hours. The place of her abuse should not be somewhere where the writers could possibly think would be a suitable for a victim to have such an intimate moment with her partner.

Then there's the fact that Vi had looked to have had some sort of breakdown, we see she's sh and there are literal crates in the wall from where she punched it as well as her knuckles bleeding. As soon as she sees Caitlyn, there's a parallel to when they first met, to when Vi is quite literally caged. She's clearly not in the right state of mind, and so when the scene eventually happens it inevitably comes off as wrong because Vi is incredibly emotionally vulnerable in that moment.

"But Vi initiated it!" That still doesn't make it okay. I do think that this also came with an issue of timing, but then again, as I mentioned earlier, it literally could've been in the office as they argued and it would've been recieved so much better then the cell scene was. Vi wasn't breaking down, she wasn't locked in a reminder of the abuse she faced and her sister hadn't just ran off to do goodness knows what (in Vi's POV, us as the audience know exactly what she's about to do). They could've even have it fade to black and cut to the next scene tangled in bed doing whatever they would've been doing in the cell, Vi would assumably have had time to calm down, would be having sex in a warm and safe environment, and guess what? The audience would've been even happier.

Sure there would've been criticism, but Vi could literally save a thousand babies and adopt them all and still face hate, because a lot of the hate is being directed to Vi too because of the situation with Jinx. That, again, is a whole other situation.

3. "Dirt Under Your Nails"

Again, for the love of god, there can be so many takeaways from this sentence but do not be surprised that people didn't like it. I didn't, it made me cringe horribly.

And before people throw 'media literacy is dead', this whole post (practically essay), is analysing a piece of media that I love. To be literate, you can draw different interpretations and conclusions and that's exactly what I'm doing. It's like saying literacy is dead if two people were to disagree on what the meaning of Macbeth's quote 'I am in blood' meant.

I digress.

I think the main issue here is the class difference between Vi and Cait. Caitlyn is from the aristocracy, a direct heir to a position of power in Piltover, while Vi is lower class, effected indefinitely by growing up in poverty. Even though she grew up as Vander's kid, they were still 'scraping for scraps'. The wealth margin between the two is almost immeasurable, and with the difference in money comes a difference in experiences, as we - the audiences - know.

It especially comes off wrong considering the class tensions and political themes heavily focussed on within the first season. The conflict between Piltover and Zaun, the abuse of power and exploitation of Zaunites by both topside and the chembarons, the prevalence of police brutality on the streets of the Undercity. Again, Vi is someone who is directly effected by this, while Caitlyn came into this blissfully naïve. She did learn yes, and in s1 she was so determined to help, but when then this progress reverts into her calling zaunites 'animals' and using the grey as a weapon, it again makes Vi's words feel uncomfortable.

Again, I think this was a massive timing issue, I would've love to see Caitlyn succumb fully to a villain arc. It would've been so interesting to delve into.

I think Vi has always had the image of herself that she'll always be viewed as less by Piltover, that she herself views herself as less. She says it herself to Vander in s1 ep2 while they're on the bridge, "I grew up knowing I'm less than them." So when she then says as her final words in the show, "I'm the dirt under your nails" obviously, that's going to come across as tacky.

People are free to think of romantic connotations for this, I won't stop you, but when you think about how the show was so focussed on class tensions, police brutality, oppression and exploitation, it doesn't come off right. Idk, that's what got me so interested with the show in the first place, the way these themes were explored so deeply but subtly in a way that didn't feel forced, so Vi's words really rubbed me the wrong way.

Conclusion

So I hope everyone that read somewhat gets where I'm coming from, this was my attempt to try and explain what I think needed to be, badly. Again, you can like the ship, I'm not saying I don't, but it also needs to be acknowledged that there is so many things that could've been worked on properly, done properly or addressed properly, and ignoring criticism won't help these issues to be fixed in the future.

Feel free to ask any questions and thanks for reading this long ass rant :)

[dramas-vs-novels]

THE AUSTRALIAN JUST GOT THE CARD

[orchideae]

A little unpopular opinion on something I've seen happen more commonly throughout November/December and wanted to address quickly for my own blog: Please never hesitate to reblog anything from me. You see me reblogging a sentence starter list that you like? Go for it and reblog it from me directly without any pressure on you whatsoever to send anything into me before doing so. You like a GIF-set or musing that I reblogged? Nab it from me, it'll brighten my day to see that we share an interest in something. I like to see interaction between me and anyone who follows me. I like to see that little activity notification light up.

Honestly, it simply reminds me that we're all part of a community, and more specifically, a fandom that consists of characters and nations that we all came to love and then share that amongst ourselves. And honestly, seeing a reblog happen shortly after me but it's from the source, creates (in my opinion) an odd sense of chosen disconnect between people that can feel awkward, it's as if we're walking on eggshells as to not rub each other the wrong way. But what's wrong about going 'Hey, I see what you reblogged, I like it too!', it even gives you potential common ground to start a conversation. We're a community, and I don't know about you, but I like seeing people interact with each other beyond merely threads and notes. It's the little things that matter, after all.

[toddtakefive]

btw todd’s reluctance to join the dps because he doesn’t want to read (which is then accommodated for) and is scared to put himself out there (which is also worked through) being read as todd not wanting to go AT ALL, and thus neil making the proper accommodations (“todd anderson, who prefers not to read, will keep the minutes of the meetings”) and encouraging him to step out of the box that stifles him being seen as ‘forceful’ or like he can’t take no for an answer makes me insane with rage

[coyoxxtl]

we got a new coworker who is cool and i really like but my managers are giving him a little more heat for mistakes than i usually see from them and considering he’s a black man it does Not look good

[rxttenfish]

i absolutely cannot let myself get started on another fic until im at least onto chapter 5 of caecilian but the temptation to write something of aaravi taking miranda monster hunting and describing the entire EVERYTHING there is real

[wild-at-mind]

I honestly feel so alone in my communities (trans, queer, whatever else) a lot of the time and I can't articulate why to anyone irl.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

What the fuck it cut off my tags, whatever

I do deserve a treat :( Thank you <3

sorry for ranting, also sorry half the rant was cut off

this is the single worst way i've ever read to describe an erection, frank herbert

[comradecowplant]

"I wish keiko were more... like a man" okay chief o'BrIen 😉