#but I also think they'd do things like that

[moody-alcoholic]

Imagine casual dominate with poly 141🤤

They'd never let you lift a finger again🥰

This was the first thing I read when I woke up this afternoon morning. I tried to keep it short but I have no self control... I'm so hungover from my eurovison party so please enjoy whatever this is. I also lost my voice singing to this absolute peice of eurovison history.

CW: +18 content MDNI. dom/sub dynamics, choking, spit (sorry not sorry), sex, restraining, PiV sex, oral sex (M receiving).

_____

“Don't move love.” Johnny says as he presses down on your stomach. You still squirm trying to angle your body so Kyle-who is standing between your legs-can have easier access.

Simon hums, pressing a kiss on your shoulder his hand moves up between your breasts to your neck.

“Johnny's right, keep nice and still for us.” his hand wraps around your neck, locking your head in place.

“keep those hands out the way too.” John says as he reaches down to take your hand off your clit. You whine and shuffle your hips as Kyle's hands run up your thighs. John chuckles and his hand trails down your stomach. 

You’re desperate for some kind of stimulation, anything to quell the throb between your legs. They’ve been like this all night, not letting you lift a finger. Even when they peeled your clothes off, one garment at a time running their tongues over your body and pressing kisses everywhere. 

You quickly pick up that everytime you squirm John’s hand stops, his fingers tickling your stomach as he moves lower and lower. Simon’s hand is still around your neck, gentle pressure that reminds you; you’re not in control tonight. 

You relent quickly, switching to moaning and whining when you don’t get what you want. Johnny leans down to kiss you, he presses his tongue in your mouth, it’s sloppy and needy, almost like he’s trying to drink you up. 

When he pulls away his teeth nip on your bottom lip, it just makes you want more. 

“Make such sweet noises when you're desperate.” Johnny says, there’s a twinkle in his eye and a cheeky grin on his face. His hand trails down to one of your nipples and he pinches it between his fingers. 

You moan for him tipping your head back, Simon moves his hand presses further up your neck holding your head in place. 

“Could do a lot with this pretty mouth.” Simon says looking down at you, you want to nod, tell him you’ll do whatever you want but you can’t. Johnny is still playing with your nipples, running his fingers over them and pinching them as you focus on keeping still. 

A smile creeps on Simon's face as he loosens the grip around your neck allowing your head to lay flat. “What do you think Johnny? Wanna fuck her pretty mouth?” You look over at Johnny, his hands have left your breasts now he’s sat back on his knees.

“Aye, sir anytime.” He says, he’s already shuffling down the bed to your head. 

“What about you, love?” Simon asks, your attention turns to him. “Gonna let him fuck this mouth of yours and come down your throat?” 

Yes, yes, a million times yes. You’re nodding frantically as Simon’s hand leaves your neck. 

“Words, love.” John says, you look over at him and Kyle is still waiting patiently between your legs, running his hands up and down your thighs. 

“Yes- yes please Johnny.” You say breathlessly, it makes Simon chuckle and his hand comes back around your throat. 

“What about Kyle? You going to let him fuck you too?” John asks, his hand finally moving down to your clit. You spread your legs even wider as he presses down to your entrance, teasing his fingers inside as his palm grinds on your clit. 

“Let him fuck you? Fuck you nice and good.” 

“Yes.” You say, the word catching in your throat. 

“Good girl.” John says pulling his hand back up to your clit, your eyes wander back to Johnny who’s stood off the bed stroking his cock in his hand. It makes your mouth fill with saliva. Simon chuckles as you swallow the excess down his hand still gently wrapped around your throat. 

He takes his free hand and you watch as Simon deposits a glob of saliva in his palm before replacing Johnny’s hand on his cock. Johnny moans, and you watch as Simon works his hand up and down smearing saliva and precome down to the base. 

You feel Kyle press the tip of his cock against your entrance while John has been rubbing tight circles on your clit. You want to rock your hips but you have a feeling if you do everything will stop. Instead you tip your head to the side as Simon moves his hand from your neck to your breast. 

“Open up, love.” Johnny says as he grips the base of his cock, you open your mouth and he presses his cock in. Him and Kyle seem to work in sync, thrusting into you at the same speed while John plays with your clit and Simon toys with your nipples. 

It’s almost frustrating how gentle they’re being, light touches or strokes, they’re trying to get you to move. Squirm or twitch under their hands, you can barely focus as Kyle picks your hips up dragging his cock against that soft spot inside you. 

Before you can stop yourself your hand flys down to land on John’s forcing him to press harder on your clit. You hear Simon tutting behind you, his hands leaving your breasts to reach down for your wrists. 

Johnny slows his thrusts so you can look up at Simon who pulls your arms against your chest. 

“None of that, love.” He says, it almost sounds like he’s growling. You look down at John who smiles as his hand leaves your clit and  Johnny pulls out of your mouth, leaving you with nothing but Kyle slamming his hips into you.

You whine, looking up at Johnny and opening your mouth again. John chuckles and you watch Johnny pump his cock in front of your face. John’s hand comes to your chin pulling your face to look at him, he doesn’t say anything, just smiles at you as he presses two fingers into your mouth.

You moan around them, sucking them in and using your tongue to wet every part of them. After a few seconds he pulls them out dragging them down your body, over one of your nipples then back to your clit. 

“Your job is to just lay here remember?” Simon says, you nod. “Lay here and let us take care of you.” He gestures over to Johnny and you turn to look at him, his eyes scrunched closed, his hand squeezing the base of his cock as a fresh bead of precome drips down the tip. 

“Johnny.” Simon calls, his eyes open and he looks down at you, you open your mouth again and he wastes no time pressing his cock deep into your mouth. It makes your eyes water but you don’t care.

“Fuck.” You hear Kyle say, you can’t look at him but you can feel the change in his thrusts they’re faster and uneven. He’s close-grunting and panting. He always gets so vocal when he’s about to come and it sends shivers through your body. 

You clench around him, trying hard not to bite down on Johnny’s cock. Johnny’s the opposite, goes quiet when he’s about to come, closes his eyes and tips his head back. You look up at him blinking the tears away. This time his head is tipped forward, his eyes closed and scrunched together as he rocks his hips. 

You press your tongue on the underside of his cock and he twitches in your mouth. 

“Fuck, love.” That’s what you think he said it’s getting harder to concentrate. John’s fingers are relentless on your clit, but then he pulls them away replacing his fingers with his tongue. It feels like sparks are going off around your body, you moan around Johnny’s cock and squeeze around Kyle. 

“You close, love?” Simon asks, you can hear an edge in his voice. You hum, hoping he gets the idea. He chuckles, squeezing your wrists as your body starts to squirm.

"C'mon then, love. Come for us." He says. You nod as best as you can, you feel John nibble on your clit and it's enough to send you over the edge, you squeeze your eyes closed whining as you come. Kyle comes too, pulsing inside you as his fingers dig into your thighs. You want to cry out, moan with them but Johnny's too busy hitting the back of your throat with his cock.

A second later he comes too, you feel his hot seed squirt down your throat as he stills in your mouth. He waits until his cock stops throbing before pulling out of your mouth and letting you breathe.

Simon, lets your hands go and John pulls his mouth off your clit but before you can do anything Johnny leans down to kiss you. His tounge pressing deep into your mouth, lapping up the remainder of his spend from your mouth.

When he breaks from the kiss you let out a long breath looking down at John and Kyle, trying to catch your breath. When your heart slows you feel Kyle pull out of you and you moved to prop yourself up on your elbows.

John tuts this time, his hand coming down to press on our sholder and you fall back down on the bed.

"What did we say?" He asks leaning over you. "You're not moving a muscle." You don't get time to respond before he presses his lips to yours.

____

I wrote this on 2 cans of redbull, 1000mg of paracetamol and a ginger shot...

[anotheraccountonthisapp]

THIS THIS THIS

what I adore about TMA is everyone is a realistically flawed character. And you can kinda understand why they'd act that way. You may like to believe that you'd actually like your fav character or be reasonable and just and whatever but in reality? Maybe you'd lash out and get aggressive? Maybe you'd go quiet and isolate? Maybe you'd try to take control over the situation? Maybe you'd try and distance yourself or blame someone else to help you try and cope? Maybe you'd completely give up and become apathetic? Maybe you'd decide you couldn't do this anymore and try to kys or kill Elias despite the fact that it'd kill not just you but everyone else? Perhaps you'd accept what's going on and just continue to be a cog in the machine? These are all very realistic ways people respond to stressful situations which seem impossible to escape from. Frankly "I'd just be calm and not lash out and work as a team and I'd just do the right things all the time" is extremely unlikely.

I also like, linking back to that point, how there's no "right action" least not one that is obvious and clear. Listening along I had myself agreeing with certain decisions or disagreeing and thinking that was the best choice and then finding out my option would have led to extreme negative consequences that I couldn't predict. It's similar to the whole "it's foolish to assume a character knows what genre they're in" in one genre one action would be the obvious correct option and in another? That action is stupid and foolish and guarantees death.

And I agree it completely strips Jon of any of his actions and unhealthy coping mechanisms. He stalked his employee's and one of his friends' house, he went down a self destruction avenue (which yes was intensified by feeling alienated and like a monster but that's not the only reason), he was feeding on people's traumas and making them relive them every night even if that's not something he can fully control that doesn't absolve him of his actions.

All the characters in TMA are realistically flawed and they all have reasons for their actions. They all believe them right. TMA is a microcosm (I'm so gonna ace this exam today) which helps to represent and reflect back humanity and how we process and respond to things differently. They aren't evil, they're just human. And humans are messy.

Okay sorry for the semi-related tangent I just very much agree with this and I tired :p but yeah I definitely agree! Also just bcs someone does something bad to you it doesn't then dismiss all your previous bad actions. That's not how it works. Both characters can have done bad things for valid or realistic reasons. These characters are fleshed out and they have depth. I mean don't get me wrong, I love the fandom memes and fanification of the characters, long as I know that ppl understand how in canon they vary from the 2D character. okay I need to actually shut up now-

Here’s the thing, I absolutely agree with the fact that the way Jon was treated in S4 was awful, dehumanising and often cruel. It impacted how he viewed himself in harmful and permanently damaging ways that then bleed into every choice he makes after, because his self-worth is never going to recover from that.

However, if you end this point with ‘and he was treated like this for no-reason at all’, I am going to have to sit you down and have a long talk about nuance, and how every character in TMA has a reason for what they’re doing, even if it’s not right. Engage with the material at hand. I am begging you.

And Jon being a victim, particularly in S4, does not absolve him of the consequences and harm his own actions have done. There’s a very twisted irony to me in the fact that the harm Jon does to feel a sense of control — a common C-PTSD response — is often stripped of that agency and nuance. Please, the Web does that to him enough.

The above also applies to pretty much most TMA characters, especially the S4 Archive Crew. It goes without saying that yes, Basira is a hypocrite, that Melanie clings onto Jon as a scapegoat before she takes steps to improve herself etc. All these characters have been hurt in some way, and they are reverting back to what gives them a sense of safety, even if it means hurting others people or each other. It’s not good, but you can, at the very least, understand why it is they’re acting this way.

I think it’s easier to understand S4 when you go in with the mindset of ‘these people are all victims, and they are not perfect ones’, rather than the mindset of it’s Jon Vs Everyone, even if it feels that way at times.

[roanofarcc]

TABLE TOP CONFESSIONS.

meddling kids pt.2

pairing: yelena belova x fem!reader (requested)

summary: an accidental 1-on-1 dinner with yelena leads to feelings being confessed. (part 2 of this fic!)

warnings: mentions of drinking, anxious reader (self projecting gang!). confessed feelings!

word count. 2.4k | masterlist

The first time, you forgave your teammates for meddling in your crush on Yelena, leaving you alone with her for a movie night that ended with the two of you falling asleep, slumped onto each other. When the morning came, neither one of you said a thing about it. You assumed it was because Yelena didn’t see it as a thing, whereas you couldn’t stop thinking about it for days after. 

Your mind was swarmed with her soft gaze, the feeling of her body pressed against your side, and the way she said you made her feel comfortable. To her, it had to be nothing more than a friendship, a teammate, something nice, but not something to be made into more by your imagination. 

It only made you feel even weirder around Yelena as your crush caused your heart to nearly break through your chest every time she met your eyes or said your name.  You just couldn’t do it, be alone with Yelena, in fear of you saying something that completely threw off the dynamic you and the team had built. 

You had tried to explain that to your other teammates, but they said you were overthinking it and being wildly overdramatic, which wasn’t helpful. 

What also wasn’t helpful was when they decided to meddle for a second time in your love life. 

“I thought we were supposed to leave at seven,” you said, looking around the almost empty living room. You had your shoes and coat on in anticipation of the cool spring weather that waited outside. 

The team had made dinner reservations as a form of bonding, and the only activity they could all agree upon was eating. But only you and Yelena were ready to go. 

She buttoned up her green coat with a shrug. “I don’t know, but they'd better hurry. I am starving.” 

The two of you waited for a couple of minutes before it turned into five, then seven, then ten minutes with no sign of your teammates. Yelena had volunteered to knock on and potentially break into their rooms to see what in the world was taking them so long. When she returned, she wore an annoyed expression and came with no teammates trailing behind with some excuse as to what was holding them up. 

“They left us a note,” she said. 

You furrowed your brows, confused. “A note?” 

Yelena crumbled up the sticky note and tossed it in the trash. “They ditched us again.” 

“For fucks sake,” you muttered. One time was mean enough, but a second time was cruel. 

“Forget their flaky-asses,” Yelena said after a beat. “We shouldn’t let the reservations go to waste, right?” 

Your heart beat spiked, and a familiar nervousness twisted around your body. Being with Yelena and at least one other teammate helped a little to ease your growing, embarrassing fondness for the blonde, but alone, you were nearly helpless. At least last time, you had the buffer of a movie. Dinner was too intimate, left too many spaces for you to say or do something stupid. 

But as she fixed her bag over her shoulder and looked at you expectantly, you couldn’t find your voice to say no. You couldn’t come up with an excuse quick enough, not one that an ex-spy/assassin would believe. 

Silently, you cursed your teammates to hell and back for the second time and nodded in agreement. 

The table had only been booked for two. Ava and Walker were dying first, you decided. You’d kill them and then Alexei, Bucky, and even Bob for going along with their plans. They were all dead to you. 

Yelena whistled lowly as she took a seat. “This place is fancy. You think they’ll have bread? Like, the fancy bread?” 

You set aside your murder plot and laughed lightly, trying to hide your internal panic that would probably cause your heart to give out before the night concluded. Yelena, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with your current situation. 

There was indeed fancy bread, and you busied yourself by picking at it and staring at the menu, avoiding the heavy gaze of Yelena from across the table. 

It wasn’t until your drinks arrived and your food was ordered, leaving you with no menu to stare at and nothing else to divert your attention to, that Yelena spoke to you again. 

“Did I do something?” she asked suddenly, catching you off guard. 

“What?” 

Yelena rarely looked worried or upset. There were a few times you saw her as such, and it was always startling. “I don’t know…” she trailed off, playing with her drink’s straw. “I thought we were, like, cool after the team ditched us for the movie night. But lately you’ve been avoiding me and being weird. Are we not friends? It’s okay if we are not. I just thought…you know-” 

You had never seen Yelena ramble before. You almost didn’t want to stop her, but you didn’t want her to keep thinking that you were avoiding her because you didn’t like her or want to be her friend. That was the worst part; you wanted to be her friend terribly. But you were so scared you wouldn’t be able to do that and keep your crush at bay and keep things from being weird. Yet, you had made them weird anyway. 

“Yelena,” you said, cutting her off with a swift shake of your head. “We are friends; we are. I’m not being weird because I don’t want to be around you. I’m not even avoiding you because I don’t want to be around you.” 

She raised her brows in question. “That makes no sense.” 

You groaned quietly so as not to draw too much attention in the nice restaurant. “I know,” you said. “It’s just complicated, ‘Lena.” Your feelings weren’t complicated; they were fairly straightforward, but everything else surrounding them was complicated. 

“Complicated,” she said with a huff and a lighthearted roll of her eyes. “Is it really, or do you just not want to talk to me about it?” 

“A bit of both,” you admitted. 

Yelena was quiet for a moment before she leaned against the table on her elbows. “How about this? I tell you something complicated, and you tell me something complicated. We see if we can figure it out anyway, yeah?” 

Your gut reaction was to reject that idea. You already felt yourself at the edge of a slippery slope, and it seemed like Yelena wanted to push you off of it. Yet, you also felt too deep in to back out. That, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't curious as to what Yelena’s complicated thing was she wanted to tell you. 

“This isn’t where the team had made dinner reservations,” Yelena said, her voice steady. 

You weren’t sure how that was ‘complicated’, just confusing. “What’re you talking about?” 

She sighed. “I may have…lied.” You stared at her, wanting her to continue. “Since we watched that movie together and hung out, just the two of us, I’ve been trying to find an excuse to do it again, but it’s like every time I try to talk to you, you have somewhere to be or something else to do. You run away, basically. So I thought if I set up a dinner as our friends ditching us again, maybe I could actually get you alone for a little bit. Which I know is not, like, the best way I could have gone about it. Trust me, Bucky had some choice words about my little plan, but it’s not like I kidnapped you or something. Just a little white lie, okay? Which, I guess, is not that complicated. I just wanted to tell you sooner rather than later because I do feel a little bad about it.” 

You weren’t sure you had ever heard Yelena talk that much at one time. She was a woman of short replies, drenched in sarcasm or light teasing. Each word felt vulnerable, something she had to really convince herself to say aloud instead of keeping it all bottled up inside, which was what you had been doing since you realized your little crush was a little more than just that. 

“Please say something before I steal the bottle of wine from the table next to us.” 

You weren’t sure what else to do but laugh. Not a laugh like you found her words funny, but more like a laugh of relief. Her admission made you feel a little better, a little more understanding. She set up this whole thing just to hang out with you; she wanted to hang out with you. Platonic or not, that had to mean something. Her admission also made you feel a little less scared of your own rambling feelings that overtook your brain every time you were around Yelena. 

Maybe it was the nice, candle-lit restaurant or the fancy bread, but you became just brave enough to put your own admission out there. If she rejected it, then you’d steal the bottle of wine from the next table over and drown some of your shame. 

“I’ve only been acting weird around you because I…I like you.” 

Your words hung heavy in the air for a moment, just the two of you staring at each other. You felt your heart in your throat and kind of wanted to throw up as the admission of your crush left your mouth, especially as you stared at Yelena’s unmoving expression from across the table. 

“You like me?” she repeated. 

“I really like you,” you said with a sigh, staring at your hands folded on the table. “So much that I can’t even function when I’m around you. You’re just…you. And it drives me crazy, and then I act weird, but I honestly didn’t even think you noticed or cared-”

Yelena cut you off. “Why wouldn’t I care?” 

You shrugged. “Because we’re just teammates, friends by circumstance, and because we have to live together. And I didn’t want to make things weirder by telling you, even though that’s what I’m doing now. I know you don’t feel the same, and I’ll get over it, I just-” 

Once again, she cut you off, a hardening look in her eyes. “How do you know what I feel?” 

Heat rose to your face, even more if that was possible. You almost wished you had some alcohol in your system; maybe that would have made you feel off balance for a better reason. 

“Come on, 'Lena,” you said. “You don’t have to pity me or my feelings.” 

She sat up a little straighter, not breaking eye contact. “I’m not pitying you. Have you stopped to think for a second that maybe I wanted to hang out with you, not just because we’re friends, but because I have feelings too?” 

You blinked. “Feelings…” 

She rolled her eyes, but there was no malice or annoyance in the action, just light frustration. “Yes! Feelings for you. What, you think I’d set up a dinner date for me and Walker because we’re friends? No. I set one up for us because you make me feel…a lot of things. You’re so nice and pretty, and it drives me crazy because every time I try to get close enough to tell you that, you’re running away. Why? Because you assumed I couldn’t have a crush on you too?” 

For a moment, you sat in stunned silence, eyes wide and brain trying to understand every word that fell from her lips. 

You had been so wrapped up in your own head that you didn’t even think of the possibility that Yelena could reciprocate your feelings. It had felt too impossible.

“Yes,” you answered truthfully. 

Her features softened in the low glow of the restaurant. “Well, you are wrong.” Your heart skipped a beat. “I do like you. I like you so much it’s…it’s scary.” 

“I thought you weren’t scared of anything?” you teased, trying to calm your spinning head and heart. 

Yelena laughed as a smile stretched across her face. “You are the exception.” 

“It scares me, too,” you admitted. “I just don’t want to screw anything up.” 

Yelena hesitantly extended her arm toward where your hand rested on the tablecloth. As if she was scared you’d bolt, she ever-so carefully curled her pinky around yours; a small yet intimate touch that made you fuzzy-headed like you’d drown a bottle of wine, warm and smiley.  

“I think we’re already pretty screwed up,” Yelena said quietly. “May as well make the most of it, yeah?” 

You squeezed her pinky and nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“Me too.” 

bonus!

On the walk back from dinner, you held Yelena’s hand, but half expected her to let go by the time the elevator brought you to the main floor of the tower where the team spent most of their time. But as you stepped out of the elevator, she didn’t let go, neither did you. 

“Do I spy with my little Russian eye my girls holding hands?” Alexei said as soon as you two were spotted. Yelena glared at her dad and squeezed your hand harder. 

“And what about it?” she snapped, though with no real bite in her tone. 

Ava met your eye, a smirk on her lips. 

“So, where have you two been all evening?” Walker asked with fake innocence, abandoning the card game he, Ava, and Bob were playing around the coffee table. 

“Out,” Yelena answered casually. “And now we’re going to watch movies in my room.” She tugged on your hand, and you laughed, a giddy feeling drenching you from head to toe at the almost teenage-like antics.

“No funny business!” Alexei called out, laughing heartily at his own words. Once the two of you slipped into Yelena’s room, sharing laughter and movie ideas to probably fall asleep to, the rest of the team remained in the living room. “Ah, young love.” 

From the couch, helping Bob cheat at the card game by looking at Ava and Walker's cards, Bucky shot a look at the two. “See. I told you, you didn’t need to meddle for something to happen.” 

Ava scoffed. “Oh, you think their date just happened on its own?” Bucky furrowed his brows. 

Walker shook his head. “No way, man. We’re the ones who put the idea in Yelena’s head and handed her the phone to make a dinner reservation for two. We get credit for making this happen.” 

In a rare moment of agreement, Ava nodded at the man seated beside her. “Meddling is sometimes the only way to make two idiots realize they’re in love.” 

With a defeated sigh, Bucky settled back into the couch. 

“Hey, Walker?” Bob spoke, a handful of cards in his hands. “Draw four.” 

“God damnit!” 

tagging everyone who requested a part 2 on the og post!

@k1ngbutch, @baylegend6, @modernvenuss, @badl4nder, @tyunminni, @hail-brod

[beneathsilverstars]

Was explaining my thoughts about Vaugardian attitudes towards mental health and therapy as part of a different topic, but it got really long so dfjkghdf here it is as a whole post! Starting with some more general worldbuilsing but hold on, we’ll get there.

Since Houses canonically contain libraries and infirmaries and provide things like education and transition care, I see them as a center of not just community but specifically community resources. If you have a problem or a question, you go to the local House, and if they can't solve it themself they'll point you in the direction of whoever can! Thus Housemaidens generally fill a role similar to social workers, and specific Housemaidens will have specialties like being a doctor, cook, teacher of a particular subject, etc. In larger cities, a lot of the more specific or labor-intensive resources would probably be outsourced to other charities/companies/organizations, or perhaps split into specialties by House, to better serve a dense population instead of trying to cram every resource into every neighborhood's House. But you would still go to any House first to find these other resources, so every House would maintain a focus on educating and advising. Combine this with the fact that religious leaders are often one of the first people that followers go to for personal guidance, and it makes sense that Housemaidens would provide all sorts of counseling, filling the role of everything from job coach to therapist.

If Housemaidens are the people providing all or at least most of the therapy in the country, then even if they're not trying to push religious doctrine, the Change belief is still going to be the source of the values and philosophies that their therapeutic models are based in. They can try to be nonpartisan and avoid mentioning Change in so many words, but it'll still be baked into the default assumptions of the local modalities in a self-perpetuating manner. If you want an entirely different approach, you're probably going to have find someone who specifically studied alternate modalities from other countries, any of which would have a much smaller market share than Change-based therapies.

So! Vaugardian therapy will focus on questions like "What Changes have been happening in your life lately, and how do you feel about them?" "What would you like to Change in your life?" "What can you Change about your thought processes and habits to address the things that trouble you?" and "Who do you want to be?" Which sound like just a particular way to word fairly common topics, but! These questions would be asked in pursuit of Change-y goals, as well.

The goal of irl mental healthcare as an industry is to make sure people can be productive. A common diagnostic question is "does this symptom interfere with your ability to work and otherwise get things done?" But Vaugardians are friendly and helpful to the point of approaching utopia, so I could see them being less concerned with this, because they're more willing to accept that some people can't work and some people need more support. In fact, in keeping with their distaste for carcinization, they might actively oppose the idea that there is any particular goal that people should be working towards. If there's one type of existence that is best for all people at all times, reaching it would mean there's no reason to ever Change again! So instead of any particular milestones, the goal is simply to set and strive towards goals that feel right to you.

I also think they'd be less likely to work off of a diagnostic model at all; you can't just say that someone inherently has depression. They may be depressed right now, but that can Change! The Change might require constant upkeep, but some Changes are like that, and it doesn't mean the Change is any less real. Instead, they'd probably be more focused on individual symptoms (and traits!), which might tend to come in certain clusters, but those clusters would be seen as trends rather than criteria. The Change modality would be less concerned with whether a state of being is disordered vs normal/healthy (and they'd be less likely to conflate "normal" and "healthy"), focusing instead on whether you're happy with where you're at, but also willing and able to Change as suits you.

So, "I feel apathetic all the time, I don't want to put effort into anything and I don't care about anything, I don't know who I am or who I want to be" would be an experience of depression symptoms that a Vaugardian therapist would prioritize helping you Change. But "I don't care about any of the things I used to care about, I think I want to quit my job and cut off all my friends so I can spend more time sleeping" would be... an idea a good therapist may recommend you spend some time exploring, to make sure that's what you really want and you're ready for the ramifications... but they wouldn't say, "No, that's a bad thing to want, we need to treat your depression so that you no longer want to do that." If you really do hate your job and your friends right now, stagnating in that because you feel like you ought to would be the worst case scenario! If pursuing this Change ends up making you feel unfulfilled and lonely and sick of sleeping all day, then, well, you can just Change again at that point, once you've decided that's what you want to do.

In an opposite example, a common criticism of irl therapy is that it provides bandaid solutions for structural issues. "I'm anxious about losing my job" might be addressed by mindfulness methods to lessen anxiety, which is better than nothing, but if you're genuinely in danger of losing your job and thus access to shelter and food, that's not something you can mindfulness away. Versus, in Change-based therapies, they would focus on discussing what you get out of that job and what about it makes you anxious. You might decide that you want to change careers to something that fits you better right now — which would be a lot easier to accomplish in Vaugarde than it would be irl, because of the resources provided by the Houses and general community. Or, you might decide that there's something about yourself that you want to change in order to better fit the job. So instead of working on the feeling of anxiety, you might work on building new skills, or building better relationships with your coworkers.

... I wrote this post thinking that Vaugardian therapy might use similar techniques to CBT (therapy), since CBT focuses on understanding the patterns of thought, behavior, and belief that lead to psychological issues, so that you can replace negative patterns with habits that serve you better. Sounds like making mental changes in order to change your feelings and actions! It would just be in favor of different goals than irl CBT under capitalism.

However. I did some more research, and it looks like Humanistic therapy is very similar to what I made up just now? According to this text, humanistic therapy "emphasizes growth and self-actualization rather than curing diseases or alleviating disorders." Psychological issues are "viewed as the result of inhibited ability to make authentic, meaningful, and self-directed choices about how to live," so it focuses on "helping people free themselves from disabling assumptions and attitudes so they can live fuller lives."

It's less of a set of techniques and more of a philosophy. According to this website, the key is empathy and "unconditional positive regard," which means the therapist "shows warmth, is receptive, and is nonjudgmental." They cultivate a casual, friendly atmosphere, instead of positioning themself as an authority figure. Client-centered therapy is a subtype that sounds like the most cliché sort of talk therapy; the therapist "listens, acknowledges, and paraphrases your concerns," giving you a space where you can be honest and accepted as yourself. Another subtype is gestalt therapy, which "focuses on the skills and techniques that allow you to be aware of your feelings and emotions," and encourages a focus on the present and self-responsibility.

So! That sounds about right! Vaugardian therapists aim to help you recognize your emotions and figure out who you are and who you want to be, through casual conversation and empathetic active listening, without judgement. They help you look at your skills, emotions, desires, and struggles, and guide you to consider the full breadth of options available to you, so you can decide what Changes will lead you to happiness and fulfillment. They especially try to avoid diagnosing, prescribing, or otherwise telling you who you must be or what you must need. They may provide suggestions — help you put something into words, or bring up options that professionals are more familiar with such as medication, or challenge you to re-examine your assumptions — but it's a collaborative brainstorming, and they want you to freely choose the option you think is best for you.

[mintyys-blog]

Requests are open?? 👀👀

I've been asking different people to get their opinions, but how do you think the Marks would react to a blind girlfriend? Comfort fic for me ngl, since I'm going blind, but also I think it would be neat. I would love your headcanons on the topic.

I feel like the variants would handle it way worse than main mark, you could be stolen from them with something as minor as a wet floor.

I wonder which ones of them tries to hide things? Would they let you know they are covered in blood, or would they try to keep the dangers of the world out of your pretty little head.

I feel like Maskless, Prisoner, and full mask would try to hide the blood stains, while the others I have no idea what they'd do.

I'd love to hear your thoughts or headcanons on the topic!! Again, I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH I AM TOTALLY NORMAL ABOUT IT 😅

HEADCANONS | variants with s/o who is blind

invincible masterlist

warnings ; mention of murder, blood, hurt/comfort

MAIN MARK

You can hear him cleaning again. It’s the soft shuffle of socks on hardwood, the muted thunk of something being moved back into place. Maybe a chair pushed in. Maybe a cup set down gently so it doesn’t clink and make you flinch. You can smell the lemon cleaner he’s been using all week—stronger than before, like he scrubbed the countertops twice just to be sure.

You smile. “Babe,” you call out, “if you’re reorganizing the spice rack again, I swear to God—”

“I’m not!” Mark yells back from the kitchen, a little too fast. “I just—um. I put the cumin and paprika back where they belong. That’s all. No changes. I promise.” You laugh. “You better not. I finally memorized the shelf.”

He appears in the doorway seconds later, towel over one shoulder, sleeves pushed up, hair still damp from a post-fight shower. He smells like your detergent now. Like home. He walks over with cautious steps, just like he always does now—more careful than he needs to be. You don’t mind. It’s sweet, the way he announces himself in every room now. Not with words, always, but with presence. Sound. Scent. A gentle nudge of his hand on yours when he’s close.

“Mark,” you say, reaching out. Your hand brushes the front of his hoodie, and he immediately curls his fingers around yours.

“Hey,” he says softly. “You okay?”

You nod. “Are you okay? You’ve been deep cleaning for two hours. If you mop again, the floor’s gonna dissolve.” He groans a little and rests his forehead against yours. “I just—wanna make sure you don’t trip on anything. Or stub your toe. Or bump into that stupid coat rack again.”

“I like the coat rack.”

“The coat rack almost killed you last week.” You smirk. “Dramatic.”

“I am dramatic. And you’re…” He trails off, squeezing your hand. His voice softens. “You’re everything to me. And this whole thing—you losing your sight—it’s not fair. So I just… wanna help. However I can.” You feel your throat tighten, just a little. He doesn’t say it with pity. Not Mark. He says it like a vow. Like he’s still learning the shape of what support means, but he’s not going anywhere until he gets it right.

You let go of his hand and reach for his face instead. He leans in instantly, guiding your fingers to his cheek, his jaw, the small smile forming there. You trace his features the way you’ve started doing more often now. He never flinches, never pulls away. Sometimes, you swear he leans into your palm like it’s the only thing anchoring him to Earth.

“I’m okay, you know,” you murmur. “Even when things are hard. I’m not scared—not when you’re here.” Mark pulls you into a hug then, arms warm and tight around your waist. He kisses your temple, your forehead, the tip of your nose.

“I’m always here,” he says quietly. “Same place. Same guy. Same spice rack.” You snort. “Thank God.” And when he laughs against your skin, you feel it in your bones. Safe. Whole. Home.

SINISTER MARK

The air smells like blood again.

You can’t see the red, but it clings to him like heat—thick and metallic, even beneath the sharp scent of soap. He’s been scrubbing, maybe too hard. The water heater clicked on twice in the last twenty minutes. But no matter how many times he washes his hands, you still smell it. Still know.

“Did you kill someone?” you ask softly. Silence. You hear him stop in the doorway. His breathing changes—calm, but measured. Like he’s waiting to see if you’ll ask again.

“Mark.” He exhales, slow and steady. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

“No,” he says, and his voice is firm now. “It doesn’t. You don’t need to carry that.”

You shift on the couch, pulling your legs under you. “I don’t need you to protect me from your truth, Mark.” He’s across the room in an instant, kneeling in front of you before you can flinch. Large, gloved hands rest gently on your thighs. Not possessive. Just… anchoring. Like he needs to feel you under him to keep from flying off the edge.

“You don’t see what I see,” he murmurs. “And that’s a gift. This world is ugly. It’s cruel. I burn it every time I leave this apartment. And I will not bring that into your head. Not while I can help it.”

You reach out, fingers brushing his shoulder. The suit is damp—he didn’t finish drying off. You touch higher, to his throat, his jaw. No mask tonight. Just bare skin and a tension that runs deep under the surface. Your thumb finds the edge of his lip.

“You’re bleeding.” He grits his teeth. “It’s not mine.” That’s not better. Not really. But he says it like a reassurance. Like it should make you feel safe.

“Mark…”

“I can’t see for you,” he whispers, voice low and strained. “I can’t fix this. But I can make sure that nothing ever touches you. Not war. Not crime. Not even grief.”

You feel his forehead drop to yours, his breath hot and desperate against your mouth. “I know you hate when I hide things. But this is all I have. Control. Power. And you—” He swallows hard. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel human anymore.”

You run your hands along his face—cheeks damp, eyes burning behind closed lids. “I don’t need you to be human,” you whisper. “I just need you to be here. With me.”

His hands tighten slightly on your legs. Just enough to feel. Just enough to ground. “I’m here,” he breathes. “Always. Even when you can’t see me… I’ll make sure you’ll never need to.” And you believe him. Not because he’s soft. But because he’s yours.

MOHAMK MARK

You only sigh once.

Barely.

A quiet little breath as you sit back on the couch, cane leaned against the side table, shoes kicked off half-heartedly after a long day.

And he’s there.

Instantly.

You don’t hear him land. No sonic boom. No cocky entrance. Just the sudden shift of air and the familiar warmth of him as he crouches in front of you, arms on your knees.

“Hey,” Mark says, voice low. “You okay?”

You blink. “How do you even do that?”

“What?”

“Drop in like a ninja every time I make a sound that isn’t a full sentence?”

His hand comes up and gently cups your ankle, thumb rubbing a slow, grounding circle near the bone. “You sighed,” he says. Like that explains everything.

You try not to smile, but it slips out anyway. “You’re gonna drive yourself nuts if you keep checking on me every time I breathe.”

“Worth it.” His thumb stills. “…But seriously. You good?”

You hesitate. Because yeah, you’re fine. Mostly. It’s just that today your phone read out the wrong bus number, and someone grabbed your elbow too hard trying to “help” you cross the street, and your favorite barista didn’t recognize you because you weren’t facing her right away.

It’s not a bad day. It’s just—heavy.

You don’t answer right away, and Mark shifts, his hand sliding up to hold yours instead. You can tell he’s nervous. Not afraid. Just wound tight in that way he gets when he wants to help, but doesn’t know how yet.

“I’m here,” he says. Quiet. Honest. “Even if it’s just to sit. Or… punch something. If that helps.” You laugh softly, squeezing his hand. “Don’t punch anything yet. Just stay.”

“I can do that.”

You feel him rise from his crouch and sit beside you, not touching at first, but close. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin. You tilt your head toward him, and he takes the hint—pulling your legs into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Did you eat?” he asks, thumb brushing your shin like a habit.

“Yes, mom.”

“Rude.”

“True.” He lets the silence stretch then, not because he doesn’t care, but because he does. He’s learning not to fill space just to feel useful. And it hits you again—how this version of Mark, the one with a chipped tooth and knuckles always healing, can be so gentle.

“You sighed,” he says again after a minute, like he’s still not over it. You lean into his side, cheek resting against his shoulder. “Yeah,” you murmur. “But I’m okay.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, soft and certain. “Just making sure.” And he means it. Every time.

OMNI MARK

You know he’s watching you.

You can’t see him—not even the faint blur of movement or the vague shadow of someone tall enough to block the sun. But you feel him. Like the weight in the air shifts whenever he’s near.

He’s always just far enough not to count as hovering. Silent. Respectful. But he’s there. Always.

You open the fridge slowly, fingertips trailing along the handle the way you practiced. You reach for the container of milk. It’s exactly where you left it.

Good. Still following the system.

Still trying not to need him.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” you say aloud.

There’s a long pause before a low voice answers from somewhere behind you—smooth, deep, and perfectly still.

“I know.”

You shut the fridge and lean against the counter. “You breathe quieter than a ghost.”

“I try not to interfere.”

You scoff. “You’re literally a living missile with super-hearing. You exist as interference.”

His footsteps are soundless, but you feel him step closer. Not too close. Just enough for the hairs on your arm to rise from the air shift. Just enough for the tension to roll off him in waves.

“I didn’t want to insult you,” Mark says quietly. “By fussing. Or acting like you couldn’t do things yourself.”

You tilt your head toward his voice. “But you’re still watching me.”

A beat of silence.

“Yes.”

You smile. “How often?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Every day. Every moment I can.”

You swallow. You don’t want to be pitied. You’ve told him that. And he’s never tried to coddle you. Never grabbed your arm too hard. Never spoken slow like you were broken.

But still—he’s there. In the wind that settles too fast when you’re on the balcony. In the door that swings open right as your hand reaches for it. In the faintest breath at your back when you misstep near a stair.

“Doesn’t it drive you crazy?” you ask, softer now. “Not stepping in? Not catching me?”

“Yes,” he admits. His voice is hoarse now. “Every time.”

You reach out toward the sound, and for the first time, he doesn’t retreat. You touch warm skin. Fabric stretched over steel muscle. He lets you.

He always lets you.

“I don’t need to be saved,” you whisper.

“I know,” he murmurs, folding his large, calloused hand over yours. “But I need to be near enough. Just in case.”

Your fingers curl together slowly, his touch impossibly careful for someone who could crack planets in half. You smile, tears prickling your eyes. “Then stay. Within reach.” His thumb brushes your knuckle. “I never left.”

VILTRUMITE MARK

You hadn’t even made it to the bottom step.

One misstep—your foot nudging against something small, hard, plastic—and the world tilted. No balance, no frame of reference, just that sharp jolt of panic as gravity pulled you forward.

But you didn’t fall.

Two arms wrapped around you so fast the wind cracked behind your ears. You didn’t even hear him move—just felt the air vanish from your lungs as Mark caught you. One hand at your back, the other bracing your legs. A perfect save.

You felt him breathing hard against your hair. He hadn’t said a word.

Not yet.

Then you heard it.

“Which one of you left this here?”

His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. That low, furious rumble was enough to stop a Viltrumite mid-flight.

The kids froze.

“…Wasn’t me,” the youngest whispered.

“I—I think it was mine,” said the older one. “But I didn’t mean to, I just—”

“I don’t care if it was an accident,” Mark growled. “You clean up every single toy on these stairs. Now. You don’t ever leave something where your mom could trip again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

They scrambled, no argument, no backtalk. Just the sound of panicked cleanup and tiny footsteps fleeing down the hallway.

You stood on the landing, leaning into the wall, heart still pounding. Mark was still standing right next to you—tensed like he was ready to punch gravity itself in the face.

You leaned into him gently.

“Mark,” you said, soft. “It’s okay.”

His jaw clenched. “No. It’s not.”

You turned toward his voice, and he looked at you like you were the last thing in the universe worth saving.

“I should’ve seen it sooner,” he said, voice low. “I should’ve scanned the stairs. I should’ve picked it up. I had plenty of time. And if I hadn’t caught you—”

“But you did catch me.”

He was quiet, but his fists had curled tight at his sides.

“You’re my whole world,” he said, barely audible now. “And I could’ve lost you because of a stupid toy.”

You reached out and found his face. It was warm, tense—his brow furrowed, lips pressed in a hard line. You stroked your thumb along his cheek.

“I’m not made of glass,” you whispered. “You don’t have to break yourself every time something slips.”

“You’re not glass,” he said, finally resting his forehead against yours. “You’re the sun. I just—I can’t lose you. Not even for a second.”

You smiled faintly, wrapping your arms around his waist, his heart pounding beneath your palm.

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here.”

And he held you. No flight, no fury—just stillness, and the quiet promise that he would always be fast enough when it counted. Even if he hated how close it had come.

PRISONER MARK

You smell lilies the second he walks in the door.

They bloom bright in your mind—sweet, delicate, heavy with perfume. You smile without turning, already holding out your hands.

“Again?” you ask.

“Mm.” His voice is low. Distant. “They made me think of you.”

You take the bouquet, fingers brushing waxy petals, careful not to crush them. He always brings something fragrant—lavender, jasmine, orange blossom. Things that push out the metallic bite that clings to him when he’s been gone too long.

He doesn’t speak right away. Doesn’t kiss your cheek like he usually does. You can feel the tension from across the room.

You sniff the air, subtle, trained. There it is—iron.

“You’re bleeding.”

“No,” he says too quickly. “Not mine.”

You don’t ask whose. You learned a long time ago that he won’t tell you. Not really.

Instead, you gesture toward the vase on the counter, and he moves automatically. You hear the water slosh, petals shift, and then feel the brush of his knuckles as he places your hand around the cool glass.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing your nose to the flowers. “They’re beautiful.”

He grunts softly, but his fingers linger on yours. His hands are rougher than they used to be—scarred and calloused from the kind of work he promised he’d stopped doing.

But you know. You always know.

“You don’t have to protect me from it,” you whisper.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “I do.”

You tilt your head up toward him, reaching until you find his jaw. Unshaven. Tense. He’s still wearing the half-mask—mouth exposed, the rest hidden. He always leaves it on now when he comes back from “trips.”

“Did they deserve it?”

He freezes.

“…Does it matter?”

You sigh. Rest your forehead against his chest. “Only if it’s eating you.”

He holds you then. Carefully. Like his arms are still sticky with something you’re not supposed to feel. You smell soap, lilies, and blood. He smells like war. Like love dressed up in violence.

“I just want to bring you soft things,” he murmurs. “Things that smell good. Things that make you smile. Not… this.”

You don’t answer. Just hold him tighter.

Because the truth is, you already know what he’s doing. You’ve known for a while. And maybe it’s selfish, but you don’t stop him. Because he always comes home to you with his sins scrubbed raw and flowers in his hands.

And when he wraps himself around you at night, whispering that you’re the only good thing he has left?

You believe him.

[kokii-omii]

I don't know if you answered this already or not but what did your ocs do when the events of book 6 happens?

Did any of them get taken to STYNX?

ok so i like to make Viri and Ezmond's overblots separate from the canon so neither of them get taken to styx during book 6

but i do still know what they'd do during those events

since the pomefiore dorm is missing their Housewarden and Vice, Ezmond is the one to take charge in their absence cuz he knows what he's doing

Same with Viri even though jade is right there, he acts as temporary Housewarden cuz he knows Azul would tweak out if Mostro Lounge stays unattended even with jade there (he's worried tho)

Maddie was gonna set something on fire cuz his Darlingest, Dearest, Sweetest Little Rosebud got taken , but Trey stopped him (he skipped out on club time to go have tea in the dorm)

Lucien was having tea with Malleus, unaware of everything and then silver and sebek burst through the doors

(this is gonna get rambley with peyn and pan so im gonna cut it off right here)

Peyn and Pan were with Idia, watching him and Azul play boardgames when the Charons showed up and took Idia and Azul

Peyn was fully ready to square up and fight them but Pan and Idia told him to stand down because its not really worth it

since the Nikos family are acquainted with the Shrouds, Pan already knows what's happening, and demanded the Charons that he join them, cuz it's his duty as a Nikos to ensure the safety of those on their way to STYX

Peyn has no idea what's going on but wanted to join too, however Pan ordered Peyn to stay in the school, not as his best friend but as the Vice Housewarden of Ignihyde

he protests a bit but by the end of it he stays and watches as Pan and Idia get escorted by the Charons

so while Pan and Idia are at STYX trying to assess the overblot gang

Peyn was being stubborn and finds Rook and the gang trying to rescue Vil and demands to come too, cuz he was gonna kick Pan and Idia's asses for leaving him at school

i have a perfect way to combat the plot hole of "idia having no friends" even though Peyn and Pan are right there, Idia thinks his and Pan's friendship is more business related cuz the Shroud and Nikos families are partners and also thinks that Peyn isn't really his friend but instead Pan's friend and also the fact that peyn doesn't know about STYX

but anyway back to lore-

the overblotters were shocked that idia was there and were even MORE shocked when they saw Pan with him as well wearing the same thing as Idia- he was trying hard to calm everyone down cuz they were making a fuss and saying that if they just comply then they'll be fine (and then idia does his "Im The BOSS" speech)

Pan and Idia are doing tests on the overblotters but they're not constantly together like they are in the ignihyde dorm because Pan is helping the STYX engineers assess the equipment and such

While Idia is the acting director for STYX in his father's absence, Pan is the acting chief engineer in Mama Shroud's absence

Pan wasn't there when Idia and Ortho were playing games with the others, he was in Mama Shroud's lab tinkering with some little things he wanted for himself (hey if you have the opportunity, don't waste it)

so when Rook and the gang finally arrived at STYX with Peyn, Pan and Idia freaked, the moment Peyn and Pan saw each other, Pan grabbed him by the ear and started scolding him, he dragged him off to the labs, leaving rook and idia behind and told him that he can stay but only when he's within arm's length of Pan and isn't allowed to go anywhere without him coming too

so he makes Peyn wear Styx's getup for the time being cuz he doesn't trust Peyn to be alone knowing full well he would try and hack the system and accidentally make something terrible happen

but then Ortho was the one who ended up hacking STYX's entire database, Idia and Pan were desperately trying to get the Cerberus System back on but it wasn't working, Idia told Pan to stay in the control room and keep hacking while he ran down to Tartarus,

Peyn was having none of it so he ran out and followed Idia as well, and cuz Peyn ran out, Pan also followed because he was responsible for Peyn and wasn't gonna let him get mauled by a phantom if he takes the wrong turn down Tartarus

he catches up to Peyn and they both have an argument with how reckless Peyn's being and how he should stop trying to be a hero when he's THIS unprepared, cuz he doesn't even know what he's running towards, but in the end they both settle it and go down Tartarus together to catch up to Idia

Pan switches their clothes to their dorm uniforms because it's more secure and safe that way as they're going down, they still have their key cards with them but when they get to the elevator Ortho intercepts them, Pan tries to reason with Ortho but it doesn't work and Ortho ends up separating Peyn an Pan and locking them away in one of the phantom containment units

Peyn was found by Leona and Jamil while they were looking for a key card, Pan was found by Riddle and Azul who were doing the same

they accompanied them to the bottom of Tartarus, helping the boys find the right containment units that have the things they need to unlock the doors

Leona questions how the hell the dang beetroot (Peyn) just spawned in styx, he tells them the whole thing about how he didn't wanna be left behind or be seen as lesser

and Leona calls him stupid for coming here and risking his life cuz his ego was hurt, and tells him the same spiel Pan said about his recklessness and how unprepared he is for this situation

and Peyn argues about how a single variable could change the whole code and that him being here could actually be really helpful instead of a problem and how his presence could turn the tables.

Riddle and Azul question what happened to Pan, and Pan starts worrying about Peyn because he literally just said he's gonna stay by him to keep him safe, Riddle and Azul try and calm him down and tell him that if he was found then Peyn would've also been found by Leona or Vil's group

so Pan tries to take charge because he's their upperclassman and also the one that knows the layout but is a bit too controlling due to his worry, and ends up getting into a squabble with Riddle and Azul,

about how he needs to stop panicking and fussing over them and their every move (its mostly Azul arguing) because its hindering his and their performance,

they are just as capable as him and don't heed constant protection and also tell him that it's the same with Peyn, and how he's fine and it's insulting to their capabilities as mages when Pan's constantly belittling their skills just cuz they are younger than him

they both encounter titans, they blast em with the thunder spears, they lock themselves in the bunkers all that jazz , and when they finally get to the bottom and see idia

Pan's the one driving the chariot while Riddle and Azul smack him with the spears and low key cusses Idia out for doing all of this, he scolds him and says how an older brother is supposed to reprimand his younger one when he's throwing a tantrum and not join him

and when Leona, Jamil and Peyn are next, Peyn's driving the chariot with ease because he told Leona while he's not the best at offense like him or defense like Jamil he's at least good at driving something like the chariot, so he trusts him and lets him drive

Peyn tries to talk some sense into Ortho but ultimately fails and lets Leona and Jamil strike him with the spear a second time

When vil jumps in to save Idia, Peyn and Pan are the ones who help Rook with pulling him out of the underworld, Peyn kinda laughs at old Vil and Pan smacks him

when Idia wakes up, the both of them kinda hug him and then verbally beat him up for saying he had no friends because the two of them literally went through hell to get to Idia just for him to say he's friendless

so when they're told to go back to school, Peyn and Pan tell him that they'll be waiting for him and that when he gets back they're gonna be playing all the games he missed during game night

and Pan tells him he wont let Idia's log in streak die while he's away and how he can count on his best friends to keep his dailies in check

the ride to school is awkward as hell because peyn's trying to not look at old man Vil crying otherwise he'd laugh

Peyn and Pan then apologize to each other for how they were acting back at styx, well more like pan's the one saying sorry and Peyn says he'll listen to Pan more often (unless pan's being dumb)

and then they have game night at ramshackle dorm when idia finally comes back

they tackled him when he came through the door

and then happily ever after

[manyu-ten]

Some random, unpolished thoughts: some of you truly play into classist stereotypes without even realizing it.

Take it from a bitch raised in NY/NJ: I couldn't begin to tell y'all the number of times folks from richer cities or neighborhoods would be surprised to see people from my city and realize we aren't "ugly".

They expect us to be dirty, unkempt, smell a certain way (they insist it isn't bad, just distinctive) and look a certain way. Big bruisers that look like brutes, "built like a fridge/gym ball" cause they except us all to be extremely unfit/unhealthy. They're surprised we weren't "ratchet" looking, surprised we could speak "English properly", surprised we weren't some gaunt, scar-faced ridden kids with no manners. Surprised we're intelligent. Surprised we care about education/school. And the thing that really irked us kids the most is that they were ALWAYS surprised we weren't "ugly".

Kids and adults from wealthier backgrounds would always hit me and other kids I knew with this "compliment": "You're actually pretty for someone from your city/neighborhood."

The worst part is that depending on the kid, you could just SEE that they take it as a genuine compliment because 'wow these cool rich people don't think I'm a hideous creature just because im poor :D'.

Yes, it was easier to take advantage of kids like us because of the class disparity. But, it was also easier for people to blame us when they'd see that we were a certain level of "attractive". I know it sounds ridiculous to some who haven't lived through that, but its the honest truth. If we were deemed the more "good looking" kids, we were then also seen as more inherently "mature".

We were their perfect little minorities, until the issues plaguing our communities, the collective traumas many of us experienced as children made us bad victims, or bad survivors. Then, we were back to being poor, ugly, dirty children.

I could walk down the corner store of my house and have some folks from a wealthier city or neighborhood go on and on about the "potential" kids like me could have if we we're to integrate into their social circles and keep quiet about the injustices we personally faced.

Did we as poor kids only deserve personhood if someone wealthier and "more just" than us came to our rescue?

This is all to say, some of you in these fandoms do not actually care to dismantle classist stereotypes. It's not just about us being violent with no manners and destined for crime. You guys think we are inherently uglier, dirtier and less intelligent. And then you go on ahead and apply that to characters from poorer backgrounds too. Many of you don't know what its like to grow up in an impoverished city neighborhood and while thats okay if you didn't experience it, you don't take the time to actually dismantle your own ignorances and prejudice.

[demonicsuffrage]

If you do still happen to have any Clark/ Bruce bodyswap ideas rotating in your head. This is a sign to reveal them to the masses (read: I fsbking. Love them . And would be incredibly happy to hear any others you have)

Like for instance what if they have to go off and superhero with others? (Not including their families I mean). Say if there's suddenly the yearly alien invasion that the JL needs to get together to beat. Would they be able to fight convincingly as each other or just kinda fumble given that they've not had that much time to develop the necessary skillset for this body? Would they be able to handle interacting with the JL as their counterpart, or would Batman suddenly be an optimistic guy giving reassurance and pep talks to the team while Superman either broods in a corner or starts spouting intricate plans with eighty contingencies? And what if one of them happens to in some way come into contact with Diana's lassoo- will they be able to keep the ruse intact or is the game immediately up?

(I'm also wagering that a good few members of the JL have taken some sort of photos/ videos of the things they do for blackmail purposes)

So uh. As you may be able to tell I very much enjoyed this concept. There are worms wriggling about in my brain and they all whisper Clark and Bruce's names

Wait that opens up an entirely new facet of this scenario, and I love it, thank you anon

I think in the body swap scenario, and this isn't me biased towards batman, i love both him and clark equally, but Bruce would be able to cruise by with his new superpowers, easily. Clark would be the one who would be struggling a little.

Bruce has extensive files all over them, he's human, he's observant, he knows how Clark operates. And he's pretty adaptable too, so he'd be terrifying.

He'd obviously have to figure out minor kinks on how to better control his powers, but he's talked and trained with clark long enough to do how to do that. Bruce never had any powers, that was never his usp, and now that he does, he's like the most overpowered character in the verse. He'd absolutely I think, if no one in the league knows about it, imitate Clark's cheery attitude, Bruce would just view it as putting on another mask like he does for Brucie Wayne. Martian manhunter knows but he doesn't tell anyone, because he's Bruce's best friend and he supports his friend

Now, that's not to say obviously, that clark would be weak or that everything heroic about him is his powers, but now he's in a more fragile body, obviously he's super intelligent and would be able to adapt real fast too. But the key difference is that while Bruce is simply gaining something, Clark is the one losing his powers. He'd also, absolutely, enjoy imitating Bruce, he's a journalist after all, he knows how to pretend.

I think they're obsessed(affectionate) enough with each other that they'd be able to emulate each other pretty well! Plus, clark now gets the added benefit of a gaggle of robins behind him and Bruce now has to walk alone, so in that way, the gain loss is the opposite

I don't really know enough about like the lasso to really say anything about that but does it like excuse loopholes? Because if it does then technically, they are clark and bruce!

Omggg this post would be too long if I talked about the reactions of the JL too, I think I'll make another post about those scenarios, it'd be so funny

There's this one panel I remember in which clark is insulting Gotham and Bruce is insulting metropolis, that will definitely, definitely be their reactions when they have to spend extended amounts of time there

I get those brain worms from time to time too, they're eating up my brain now, I think I've been convinced to make like atleast two more posts about this

Thank you for the ask!

[antianakin]

For those saying the writing in Andor is bad: if that was so, it certainly made a big enough impression on you to take the time to post your opinion on this forum and not keep scrolling. And to take the time to reply to other posters.

I DO like Andor. I loved the first season and never made that unclear when I was talking about it. I was one of the likely very few people who was already excited for it before it even aired because I already loved Rogue One and Cassian Andor. I was one of the relatively few people who genuinely liked the opening three episodes and didn't find them "boring" and fervently defended those three episodes. I've gone back and rewatched that first season while we were waiting for this one more than once.

I criticize the writing in season two, in part, BECAUSE I loved it so much. I knew they were condensing four years into one season before the season aired, I knew we were getting the four arcs with three episodes released per week already, so I had certain expectations about how the pacing might work before I saw it and was EXTREMELY willing to just see how it worked and believe that it WOULD work because, well, season 1 had been so good with its pacing and its writing that it just seemed reasonable to assume that the second season would be, as well. They had said they'd planned it to be one 24 episode show with two 12 episode seasons so clearly all of it should work together and the second season wouldn't end up feeling tacked on and less strong than the second.

I had very high expectations because of just how much I adored the first season, and that may unfortunately be lending itself a little to the criticisms I have of this season. Even in this season, though, I liked the first arc well enough and was willing to let go of the strange pacing issue with Cassian's narrative where he was captured by the Maya Pei rebels in a way that didn't seem to do anything for his character or the overarching storyline because I believed there would be a reason for it later on.

And then little things started piling up a bit this season, and while I am happy to admit that there WERE still quite a few things I did like about this season (the visuals are still beautiful and well thought out, the music is still good, the editing is still good, the themes and motifs are still really interesting, the acting is incredible, and there ARE still places where the writing and editing is really good but it's more on an episode by episode basis rather than an overarching storyline basis), the disappointment I have in some of the areas where it didn't live up to expectation are more dominant right now. I'm hoping it doesn't stay that way. I'm hoping I can come back to this show in a year or so and watch the whole thing all together and I can just focus on the things I still DO enjoy about it rather than on the parts that were a little frustrating.

And I think it's valid to point out the places where Andor's second season failed, even if it's just my personal opinion. I maintain that Bix's storyline was mishandled. I think Cassian's development got a little shoved to the side and he landed strangely wishy washy rather than believably growing into the character we knew in Rogue One who was realistic about the rebellion but still 110% committed to it. I think that Cinta's death wasn't thought through enough and, even if we can understand why they did it, it doesn't mean that it isn't still part of a pattern that's going to leave a bit of a sour taste in some people's mouths. I think that it's fair to point out that the choice to condense four seasons into one led to some issues with pacing and development where a LOT of people felt like we were missing major pieces of story for the characters and not getting a chance to let them breathe and process what had happened before moving on to the next major storyline.

But there's also still some incredible stories in this season. Episode 8 was really incredible on so many levels, and while I have my personal issues with episode 9 and how it effectively chose to end Mon Mothma's character arc for the show I do think that the action element of it was done really well. I loved the Luthen and Kleya backstory episode, and I genuinely found the final arc of the show to be its strongest AS AN ARC (as in all three episodes actually all flowed into each other and all of the storylines felt like they related to each other thematically and there wasn't one storyline that stood out as being particularly weak in comparison to the rest).

So yes, there's plenty I still enjoyed about Andor season 2, it's still a generally really well done show, but my expectations for it were quite high based on how well done the first season was and I don't think it lived up to those expectations and unfortunately those things are a little more prevalent on my mind right now than the things I DID enjoy more. I am reblogging gifs and other people's posts that are more positive, so it's not like my blog is full of nothing but negativity, it's just what I'm personally still thinking about and so it's more of what I'm personally writing about, too. And of course any time I do, I have dozens of people showing up to tell me how I'm wrong and if I just thought about this one basic theme that's really really obvious then suddenly this thing that frustrates me would just go away.

So yes, I'm aware that one of the show's themes is how not everyone in the rebellion agrees with each other, that's a theme that's existed since Rogue One, but thank you for pointing it out to me again. If I felt like the show was just pointing out that Cassian was a little biased about Luthen and disagreeing with Bail because he's emotional and grieving, that would be one thing. If I felt like the show was just pointing out that Luthen had made SOME contributions that were important but often overlooked because people hadn't liked his methods, that would also be one thing. But that's not really what's being presented here. Luthen is said to be the SOLE REASON the rebellion is here right now, the SOLE REASON for its existence, and we aren't led to believe that Cassian is overexaggerating that or just being emotional about it, but that the OTHERS are the ones being biased and judgmental and since none of them have made as many moral sacrifices as Luthen then their opinions aren't valid.

And THAT'S the problem I have with the scene. It's not that they're showing the rebels disagreeing, but what felt like the ultimate MESSAGE that was coming from the scene that I didn't love. And you may disagree with me on whether that's the message being sent, and that's fine. It's possible the message I'm picking up isn't what I was intended to get from the scene, but that doesn't necessarily mean that that isn't how the writing is coming across anyway. I'd be fine if they just said Cassian didn't like Bail all that much (although I'd argue they never showed any REASON for Cassian not to like Bail aside from Bail not liking Luthen, so we just kind-of have to take that at face value), but the argument that Luthen is so much more important and vital to the establishment of the rebellion than anybody else just smacks to me of how Filoni tends to treat Ahsoka as better and smarter and stronger than basically everyone else around her. It's annoying, it's not that interesting, and I don't accept it from Gilroy any more than I accept it from Filoni.

I WANT the messy flawed rebellion that has a lot of people in it with differing opinions and methods and who don't even all get along. I do. But I don't necessarily want that to come at the cost of completely dismissing characters who've long been established in this franchise as vital contributors to the rebellion in favor of Gilroy's personal OC being lifted up as the greatest and best rebel who is the REAL founder behind it all and we just never knew it before now.

This show can be better, we know that because we saw it in season 1, and so when I point out all of the places where it feels like it didn't do well in season 2, it's because I remember that it can BE BETTER. It's frustrating to know that and see it fall short this way.

It seems a little hilarious to me that they have Cassian making the argument that the only reason any of them are here, the only reason the REBELLION exists at all, is because of Luthen... and he's saying it to BAIL FUCKING ORGANA.

I'm sorry, but while I am happy to accept that Luthen did do a LOT of things to keep the rebellion alive and likely recruited quite a few of the people on Yavin to this cause himself and trained them up, there are just as many if not more who are there explicitly because of BAIL ORGANA.

Bail Organa who began fighting the Empire the moment he showed up at the Jedi Temple the night of Order 66 and turned around to save any Jedi he could and then became a GETAWAY DRIVER as Yoda went to assassinate the Emperor and then proceeded to agree to take in Anakin Skywalker's child in order to hide her from the Empire.

Bail Organa who has literally been shown helping recruit the entire Ghost Crew and likely brought on the entire Phoenix Squadon and theoretically the entire Gold Squadron. Bail Organa who was the one who helped Riyo Chuchi try to fight for clone rights. Bail Organa who saw Ahsoka Tano on Naboo for Padme's funeral and immediately turns around to offer her a chance to join the rebellion which she does eventually choose to take. Bail Organa who eventually does allow his own DAUGHTER to join the rebellion and run missions when she's old enough.

You cannot convince me that somehow Luthen Rael is MORE responsible for the creation of the rebellion and its existence and people's involvement in it than Bail Organa. You can't.

[selineram3421]

Other Worldly

Part 7

Part 6

Alastor X Shy Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ implied depression episode? (mostly laying down and not moving), food mention-seaweed/meat pie, mention of intestines, panic attack. ⚠

Looking up, you saw the slight shimmers of light streaming into the water.

It's as beautiful as you remember.

You stayed underwater for the day. Alastor had let you rest your voice, saying he had something to do this morning and you got some seaweed snacks to have for when you felt like eating something quick.

It was a nice change of scenery, usually you would just lie in bed all day and feel like crap. Meanwhile, here you could appreciate some nature to take your mind off of your thoughts for a moment. A moment is all you needed to lay things out and plan for what happens next.

Then you were suddenly out of the water and in familiar arms.

"Ah!", you squeaked and grabbed onto the deer demon, fin smacking him slightly as you tried to balance yourself in his hold.

"Good news my dear! We are going out to pick something up. Some fresh air would do you some good.", Alastor smiled down at you.

"I-", you started but were quickly shushed.

"My friend in Cannibal Town has been eager to meet you! She's set up an arrangement of items for you to choose from and has prepared snacks. She'd also like to ask you something. I believe you'll enjoy yourself!"

After agreeing, you ended up standing in front of Rosie's Emporium a bit later.

"Let us enter, we can't keep her waiting!", he grinned and opened the door before guiding you in.

Something in your gut told you that it was wrong, something was wrong, but you weren't sure what it was.

.

Alastor brought them to Rosie's, walking them through the crowd of demons before entering the back room where his friend had the best things set up.

"Rosie! We are here!"

"Where are your manners? Honestly Alastor, I swear, I have to remind you every time to knock!", Rosie said from somewhere farther away. "Take a seat on the couch, I'll be there in a second."

He sat his little mer down on the couch and placed himself next to them.

"I've told Rosie about how beautifully you sing, she's been quite interested to hear you but I wanted you to speak for yourself on this matter.", he smile widened. "It's up to you my dear."

But they'll say no~

He was positive that his siren would refuse, and Rosie would have no choice but to back off. He would have them all to himself.

All for me.

"Apologies for the wait.", Rosie walked out from the hallway in the back. "I was making sure the snacks were delicious.", she smiled. "Now, let us get on with business.", the Cannibal Overlord sat down on the couch from across the two. "I'm Rosie, a friend of Alastor's and I'd like to hire you for a month or so to sing."

He glanced at the mer demon and found them shocked, their fingers starting to fidget, most likely due to nerves.

"Could you perhaps give them some more information Rosie? I'm sure they'd love to know what the occasion is.", he spoke up.

"Oh, you're absolutely right.", the woman said. "Let me bring out the snacks first. I'm sure we can have a bite or two to enjoy while talking."

She left the two alone for a moment and Alastor turned to check on his mer, finding them looking down at their hands on their lap.

"What's wrong dear?", he asked.

"I don't think I could do this. Sing in front of a crowd? I barely have the courage to sing in front of you, how could I-", they began.

"Now, now.", he stopped them from rambling. "This is why I brought you here. So you could answer for yourself."

They were quiet for a moment before asking where the bathroom was.

He told them and watched as they left the room.

Rosie came in with a tray not a minute later and set it down. "Where have they gone?", she asked.

"Powder room.", he responded.

"Oh, so now we can talk.", she grinned and sat on the couch. "Tell me, what else has happened so far? Anything interesting?"

"They have seemed to take a liking for my shadow. So I'll use that to get closer to them.", he said and picked up a small meat pie. "I'm just waiting for the perfect opportunity."

"But what if they find out?", she asks. "I would be a little more careful if I were you. Especially since the deal you made wasn't for their soul."

"Oh please.", Alastor rolled his eyes. "It's only a matter of time before I get it.", then he took a bite of the pie, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. "I already have half of their power. Such a useful thing it is! Why, I made a pitiful sinner eat their own intestines!"

.

You didn't know how to react.

Why is he telling her this? You thought, confused. I don't understand.

You didn't take long in the bathroom and were now hiding by the doorway after hearing Rosie say something about a soul.

"I already have half of their power. Such a useful thing it is! Why, I made a pitiful sinner eat their own intestines!"

There was an odd sensation in your chest.

It felt like water was filling your lungs, then your throat felt like it was being clogged up and you couldn't speak. It burned, what you wanted to say stayed stuck in your throat and you started to tear up.

I- I can't speak. You tried to breathe but you ended up taking too short of breaths. Why!? I need to- Another breath too short. I need to leave. A gasp. I need to go.

Turning to leave, you whimpered as the pain grew, clutching your neck with one hand as you tried to rush out of the emporium. Of course, you were loud enough for the two demons in the other room to hear.

It felt like thorns prickling in your neck, or barbed wire coiling around on the inside. Something was wrong, the pain being too much, tears now running down your face.

Something broke as you bumped into the wall, causing you to stagger a bit.

You didn't notice when he had approached you.

All you knew was that you were leaning against the wall and then the next thing was that Alastor turned you to face him, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you with a strained smile.

He held your wrist, his lips moving hesitantly, his voice coming through your ears in bits and pieces as he moved your hand from your neck.

"-try to take slower breaths-", he said, using his thumb to brush some tears off of your face. "-an you hear me?-"

It hurts. You kept trying to breathe but instead of air, your lungs were burning. It hurts! You closed your eyes in pain.

"Darling, plea-"

Then something in you snapped.

"LET ME GO!"

It felt like blades tearing into your vocals, slicing away as you shouted at the Radio Demon, who instantly followed your command.

Blinking your eyes open, you noticed his eyes were glazed over.

A second passed before you understood. The deal was broken completely and the other half of your powers returned to you.

Without a second thought, you ran out of the building and away from him.

You kept going until your feet ached, until you were stumbling to get back to the hotel and lock yourself somewhere no one would find you.

Then you bumped into someone.

Both of you fell to the ground.

"I'm-", you sat up but quickly stopped, placing a hand to your neck when remembering that you couldn't speak all that freely anymore.

"Ow. The fuck- Watch where you're going!" , a feminine voice said. "What-", then she stopped.

You felt chills as the woman said your name.

Looking up, you saw a pink jellyfish type demon who was staring at you with wide eyes.

"I missed you.", she smiled.

*chanting* Mermay, mermay, mermay, mermay, mermay!

~Seline, the person.

Part 8

Taglist@

@preciousbabypeter @poppingaround @bishiglomper @darifes @random-3455 @mspurpl3 @chirimeimei @sharkthong @enjisthings @aspiring-bookworm @cherry-cola-100 @fairyv-ice @phoephan-123 @briethekitsune @fuzzyturtlepaws @redrose360 @anngray1369 @fries11 @viviuxd @loserrrluvvverrr @+? @+more in the comments+

ML I Alastor🎙️ | OW🦀

[halipula-aika]

Okay I will allow myself one (1) Eurovision post this year because I went to the tags and it seems like some of you don't understand how this thing works.

"why did Israel win the televote / why did Israel almost win / Israel bought votes / this whole thing is rigged" friends and acquaintances. Fellow tumblrinas. If you start boycotting a thing, guess who the people not boycotting are? That's right, the people supporting the thing.

The fact that people who don't support Israel aren't voting these past two years means the only people left to vote are the ones who support Israel. And that means Israel is going to sweep the televote. This is what happens when you remove one demographic (palestine supporters) from the equation entirely.

(Also, a lot of people do just genuinely support Israel across Europe, tumblr is not a good representation of your average Eurovision viewer)

"The juries are rigged" yeah probably. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I'm fairly certain the reason Austria, Switzerland, Italy and France swept the jury vote is because juries want a country that could realistically host next year. The fact of the matter is that this and last year Eurovision has been a way bigger security concern, and letting a more politically unstable state host wouldn't work. I don't think there's any cross-country conspiracy here, but I believe individual juries consider who they'd like to host next year.

"Okay but wtf was up with the rest of the jury" neighbourly love. This happens every year. There were no major knockout performances this year, so the juries (and televote! Israel is an outlier!) are divided. This is natural and normal. I can't explain the UK and Denmark to you those points made no sense. I want to be mad about Switzerland but unfortunately I think getting bronze from the jury vote and getting ZERO POINTS 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 in televote is the best thing that happened in this year's Eurovision.

Tl;dr: nothing about this year's Eurovision was surprising and I don't know what you expected

[al-kms]

1. I think I'm not happy, I always have a hard time knowing what I feel

2. Listen to music, draw, Create stories in my head in which the protagonists get away from everyone and decide to live in the forest or something like that. If that doesn't work then I read tragic stories so that the reality I live in isn't so bad. Reading these stories helps me because when I look back on my life, I don't find it so bad.

3. I'd have to stop being myself, change everything about me. The problem in my life is me, not my family or my surroundings, me. I'd like to be more energetic, not have anger issues, not suffer from depression, not have obsessive-compulsive tics, and know what to do with my future. Maybe that way I'd be of help to my family. I'd have to stop being myself, change everything about me. The problem in my life is me, not my family or my surroundings, me. I'd like to be more energetic, not have anger issues, not suffer from depression, not have obsessive-compulsive tics, and know what to do with my future. Maybe that way I'd be of help to my family.

I don't know why my family loves me. I don't think I'm a good person. But they mean everything to me. They have made mistakes but I have made more. The only reason I haven't killed myself yet is because they'd be sad and I still haven't paid them for everything they've done for me.

If you're looking for a way to be happy, I don't have the answer, but happiness is also temporary. If your family is the problem, then step away and seek happiness away from them. If they're not the problem, then try finding hobbies that show you're good at something. For example, in my case, drawing and playing the piano.

If the problem is that nothing you do is good enough, then start to stop demanding too much of yourself, start little by little, like leaving imperfections in the things you do, and little by little adding more imperfections. I don't know if you understand, but I'm too much of a perfectionist, so when I draw a picture I stop seeing it as something I made, I imagine someone else did it, that way I allow myself imperfections, since I don't demand anything from others.

You could also try talking to people about your problems, exercising, dancing, going for walks, or other things. It didn't work for me, but maybe it will for someone else. What helps me the most is reading tragic stories and listening to music.

Hey guys, this is a bit of a weird request but can you guys answer these and reblog so I get more answers, please?

1. Are you happy right now as you read this?

2. What makes you happy?

3. If you could change anything to make you happier what would it be?

[moonstruckme]

hiiii and congrats! luv this game sm!

secrets in the dark...can I request wolfstar & B, E, K, R, & W! (sorry if this is too many, you can pick and choose, I just got too excited!) x

Thank you angel! Absolutely you can :)

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

Sirius is absolutely not letting either of you sleep alone ever. Even when Remus doesn't want to be touched very much getting close to the full moon, he has to relent to you all still sleeping in the same bed and you and Sirius just leaving him plenty of space, because Sirius will not stand for it. I think Sirius is clingy and likes to curl up whereas Remus prefers to lay flat and/or be the big spoon, so most of the time I see reader and Sirius sleeping on either side of Remus or Remus spooning Sirius who's spooning reader (though reader and Sirius could swap in that scenario, but I think Sirius would love to be in the middle)

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?

Sirius is definitely the one dragging you and Remus out most often, though to friend events instead of family of course. I think if anyone is dragging them to family events, it'd have to be you

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners?

I think Sirius and Remus really balance each other out in this way—they're perceptive, but in different ways, and they also both have their walls up but handle that differently. Sirius is very quick to pick up on any shifts in mood and/or tension and he'll just call you on it, whereas Remus is more likely to notice if there's a change in your behavior and I think he'd normally give you a chance to bring it up on your own before doing it himself, far more tactfully than Sirius would. They also both have things they'd rather not discuss; Remus will avoid these at first by being quiet and then by stating outright (sometimes angrily) he doesn't want to talk if pushed, whereas Sirius is a master of dancing lightly around anything he doesn't want to discuss and laughing it off, so that no matter how hard you try you'll never get him to be serious about anything he doesn't want to get into. However, they're also both skilled at breaking through each other's walls, and with enough time with them I think you'd learn to do that too

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

oh I mean both of them but Sirius most obviously for sure. He looooooves showing you both off and being loud about how much he loves you, and Remus feels the same but prefers the quieter gestures

w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

they're both pretty insecure about their worthiness of love and care. remus is better at hiding it; even though sirius puts on the biggest show about being so confident, that sometimes makes his self-consciousness about specific things more obvious. however familiar with insecurity sirius is himself, it boggles his mind that anyone he loves would ever doubt themselves, and he wants to have very frank and fervent discussions whenever one of yours comes up. remus, on the other hand, is more understanding, and will try to help you in small ways before broaching the subject in a gentle, compassionate way if that's not working; he understands that most people can't be convinced of their worth in a single conversation, whereas sirius is so downright shocked you could ever think that to begin with that he's sure he can fix it quickly

[bloodied-blossom]

Killer Chat HCS!

Minor spoilers for V's Name

Small headcannon about their favorite physical touch! (Small writing to keep this active while I write angel x reader) Honestly I was thinking about which physical touch they'd be caught doing the most and these sillies came to mind! I might write little one shots based off this later!

Friendly reminder these are just headcannons!

── .✦Angel ˚໒꒱

Angel's favorite physical affection would have to be hand holding, or caressing the other's face. Softly holding you to let you know you're safe. You'll always have her by your side, that if you need her? She's right there.

She seems like the type of person to keep you close and whisper comforting words to you, like you so proudly comforted her all those times before. Rubbing her fingers against the back of your hand gently to keep you grounded or pressing feather like kisses to your forehead.

Simply reminders that she's there, she loves you.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would be sweetheart, little feather, or mi amor.

______๑♡⁠๑______

── .✦Misaki ⌐╦ᡁ᠊╾━

Misaki's favorite physical affection would most probably be hugs, embraces. Wrapping their arm's around you, whether it's one around your shoulder, both around your waist or neck, anything to feel you against her. It's comfortable being able to know you're there, that you're okay.

They get anxious, so having a weight pressing against them can comfort her. Plus! Getting to be close to you like that means you two can joke around without many hearing... (but you both know you're too loud for that) She's the type of person to give surprise hugs! Whether you're busy or not, if you're in range? They'll go for the hug.

Kissing your cheek or shoulder even depending on how they hug you. Their hugs bring you a sense of warmth and comfort just as much as holding you makes them happy. They'd go above and beyond to keep you happy.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would be honey, dear, something REALLY CORNY, or a play on your name! (Cherry > Cher)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

── .✦Ronin ♱𓄋♱

Ronin's favorite physical affection was most difficult for me to place, but I definitely think grabbing. Now i get it... WDYM? Well! I feel as though he's the type of person to grab his partner's wrist, arm, hands, or even their face and either pull them closer or turn them to face him. He's not exactly the most gentle person..........

Wanting your attention, and knowing how to get it, he'd reach for your wrist or arm and pull you closer. Keeping a hand on your shoulder or your chin. I could also seeing him tugging you close by your wrist only to kiss your hand and let you go as though nothing happened.

He's never been big on vocalizing his love for you in a more sweet or gentle ways, but there are times when you two are alone where he holds your chin gently, kissing your cheek or the corner of your lips and reminding you he does love you despite his crude ways of showing it.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would probably be darlin', angel, or even sugar! Idk he seems like a 'sugar' person!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

── .✦Valentin𓂃𓆙

And finally! (Best for last hehe)

Valentin's favorite physical affection would have to be small, gentle touches such as pats or things like shoulder rubs. Walking up to you and gently kissing the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair and telling you how lovely you look today. He's definitely better with his words than touch.

Cooing at you, softly rubbing your shoulders while telling you he's proud of you, that you're doing well. Checking if you've taken care of yourself today, keeping you in a state of relaxation whenever he's close. It's a nice feeling, the placid atmosphere. If you're lucky, i think he'd nuzzle against your head, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head or against yours and then get terribly embarrassed for doing it.

Besides this, I think he'd crochet you small things rather than show physical touch. Small things from plushies to beanies or hats. Anything that makes you happy.. because to him? You look amazing no matter how you dress or accessories.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would be little bird(dove), love, dearest, and possibly precious.

╚══════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══════╝

I loved writing this! Honestly it helped me get out some stray thoughts and gave me some ideas!

Enjoy temporary food hehe

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! I first wanted to say thank you so much for everything you guys do! This has been such a wonderful resource for finding new fics! Your hard work is very much appreciated 💕

For my request, I just read through Dark Angels, Golden Serpents by KiaraMGrey for the first time and I'm desperate for more fics that has one of the Husbands dark, obsessive, and dangerous but soft, kind, and respectful only for their love. I don't care if it's dom Crowley or dom Aziraphale, they're both lovely to me.

Thank you for any help you can provide!

Hey! We have #possessive crowley and #possessive aziraphale tags, so check those out. Here are more fics to add...

The Temptation Games by andy_allan_poe, BlueSkyeDragon (E)

Crowley regretted telling Aziraphale about his… proclivity for watching the Angel eat. Aziraphale was quite happy he admitted his fascination with Crowley's fashion. In other words: Several months after having sex for the first time, Aziraphale and Crowley are playing two different games of seduction. They'd both like the games to conclude, but neither of them will be the one to initiate their second round of intimacy, for one reason or another. Also, Aziraphale is winning both games.

The Shelter Of Your Wing by orphan_account (series) (M)

The mob has marked him for death, and Crowley ends up taking shelter with a bookseller he barely knows. But the bookseller is not what he seems. He might even be more dangerous than what Crowley is running from.

Greater Than Our Suffering by ladydragona, SylWritesStuff (E)

Things have changed. He's left the nunnery he grew up in, the rules he'd always known, the people, the village, his very name - he has nothing to his new name and so has nothing to lose. As Aziraphale approaches the foreboding castle ahead and the deadly vampire who lives within, he's well aware of this fact. But having nothing to lose means having everything to gain, and it seems worth a risk. Worth another drastic change. And, as Crowley well knows, life changes even after its end.

seeing you carry plants in by ChristopherTuring (E)

Crowley thinks about lying alone and in pain on a hospital bed when he was 5. He thinks about all those tearful prayers asking for an angel to help him, guide him, take care of him, protect him, and love him. He thinks about every single heartbreak and trauma he had endured for the past decade and a half and how they slowly ate away his confidence and dignity. He thinks about all the time he spent staring down from his window and wondering whether it would have been easier if he just took the leap. But now, with Aziraphale’s arms tightly around him, he has never been surer that he would gladly endure everything again and some more if it meant that Aziraphale would find him in the end. He wants to go back in time and tell that scared 5-year-old that an angel will find him someday. An angel in the form of a soft gentleman with the bluest eyes. He just needs to be patient and strong with just the right amount of stubbornness to not give up before then. OR 5 Times Crowley thought he was shattered beyond repair and 1 Time Aziraphale proves him wrong.

Just Like Heaven by AngeliqueTombee (E)

Aziraphale Fell finds himself foisted upon a new dorm mate at University who has a notorious history of making said roommates disappear. Whether it's his loud music, need for dark, or overall sarcastic nature, Crowley always manages to run them off before they become an issue. But...this one seems different. His wit is sharp, and his knives aren't far behind. He may seem like an old silly, but this one may just be the wake-up call Crowley - and his motley band of ne'er-do-wells - needs.

Saltwater on Skin by CandyQueenAO3 (E)

Ezra fell, an award-winning novelist, has just sold the one millionth copy of his newest book. While celebrating with friends and family on a rented yacht, Ezra falls overboard and is washed ashore on an uncharted island. Ever the optimist, he keeps his spirits up while he awaits rescue. That is, until he gets the distinct feeling that he isn't ALONE on this island; that there's SOMETHING else out there. Watching him. *~*~*~*~* EXERPT FROM EPILOGUE CHAPTER 10: As they’d glided silently over the dark, chilly waters of the ocean, Crowley had allowed himself to relax a little and be held. Normally he’d be the one doing all the carrying - he was a very tactile person and much preferred it that way - but every so often, he could see the appeal of being cradled against the bare chest of a literal angel. Then everything had gone wrong.

And the one you mentioned...

Dark Angels, Golden Serpents by KiaraMGrey (E)

It would be easy to look at Mr. Fell and see a soft, aging bookseller. It's what much of the world sees, even if it isn't the truth. Because Mr. Fell is also known by another name. The Archangel, the leader and head of London's largest and most powerful crime syndicate. When Crowley, a low level member of a rival organization get's into some trouble and needs help, he unknowingly goes straight to London's most prominent crime boss. For Aziraphale's part, he loves beauty. He loves decadence and art and food, and is not in the habit of denying himself the things he wants. The moment he sees Crowley, he knows he is beauty personified. He wants him, and he will have him, even if he needs to crush a rival crime boss beneath his heel to keep him.

- Mod D

[thelonelyshore-if]

How did the ROs figure out their queerness?

Give us the thoughts king 👀 if its not spoilery of course

Ahhhh thank you both so much I love love love thinking about this. The ROs mean so much to me and I love thinking about them as people, with all of the experiences that comes with it. Answering below the cut because this is gonna be an essay <3

Beck - ever since Beck was little they knew that sometimes they felt like a boy and sometimes they felt like a girl and sometimes both or neither or something else entirely...but they also didn't fully realize that not everyone felt that way. If her sister got mad at her for stealing & wearing her clothes it was because her sister was mean, not because she was 'supposed to be' something else. If her parents got on their case for not conforming; well, their parents were always on their case. Not anything different when it was because they caught them kissing a boy. It wasn't really until late middle school that Beck fully understood that they were different.

To this day they don't really have the words to describe their gender. They just know it changes, and they do what they can to broadcast that to the people around them. Most people don't get him, but that's nothing new. His sexuality is even more complex too describe in exact words, for him, but he knows he's been attracted to all sorts of people. Queer fits, and he doesn't really feel the need to try to define it further than that.

Croft- unlike all of the other ROs, Croft is from modern day and unquestionably grew up on tumblr lmao. They are very knowledgeable about the spectrum of gender and sexuality. Unfortunately how they figured out that they're trans is a spoiler (it's a story that will be much more fun to read in game lol), but they figured out that they're on the ace spectrum in high school. All of their friends were obsessed with dating and sex and they thought they'd lost their minds. And then eventually (after answering one too many "who do you have a crush on???" questions) they went. Wait a second maybe I'm one one who's different here.

In college, though, they fell desperately and unquestionably in love with their only long term partner to date. She was mysterious and beautiful and a self-described witch...and one of their best friends. Croft was obsessed and realized that maybe they aren't actually fully asexual. Clearly there's the potential for attraction, if they're connected enough to someone. So they mentally adjusted the label they use to demisexual and went on their merry way.

F!Jay- gotta split Jay up because it deeply depends on their gender. But, as I think I've mentioned before, when f!Jay and Yasmin were younger teenagers they had a classic homoerotic teenage best friendship going on. Jay had a massive crush on Yas, they cuddled and held hands all the time, they were each other's first kiss (to ~practice~ ofc). And it was all totally platonic, because they were both girls!!!

Spoiler alert: it wasn't. When Yasmin and Seth started dating Jay felt weirdly jealous and brokenhearted. She talked to her mom about it, and Grace was just like. Honey. Baby girl. And Jay was like but I don't even like girls like that!!! She was in denial for a bit until she joined the co-ed baseball team, realized she spent a bit too long admiring all of her teammates in a way that definitely wasn't platonic, and then went. Oh. Huh.

M!Jay- he really doesn't think about this sort of thing the same way his female counterpart does. Jay is a pretty damn emotionally intelligent guy...but he doesn't really do introspection all that well. So his own path to self discovery was a lot more like. Damn my teammates have nice form. And look great in their baseball pants. And then proceeded to not really think all that deeply about it until he was (unknowingly) fawning over how good one of their male teammates looked and Seth was just like........."bro I love u no matter what you can tell me if you're gay."

And Jay was just silently like. What the hell do you mean I had a crush on your girlfriend for years. And out loud was just like. "I just respect him as a player I don't think he's hot." And Seth said "..........ok." Then Jay went home and thought about it longer and also went. Oh. Huh.

Perri- when it comes to their sexuality, Perri has always kind of suspected? They fall a little bit in love with everybody. Especially people who are nice to them. Not in a way where they assume people are flirting. In fact, Perri doesn't think they've ever been flirted with. No way. They're too awkward and weird. (Perri needs better self confidence). But people are just so pretty, and funny and sweet and interesting...and gender has never really been a limiting factor on that. They really figured it out definitively in middle school, though it took them until high school to actually put it into words and tell other people about being queer.

For Nonbinary!Perri, their gender journey was significantly more complicated than figuring out their sexuality. They tried on a couple of different identities and labels throughout their later middle school years. Having Beck as a best friend kind of made them actually think about their gender and how unhappy they were being seen as their assigned gender. They wondered if maybe they were just the opposite gender and were trans, but that made their skin crawl in the same way. They didn't want to be defined as anything, really. Just themself. So eventually they just figured that their gender is as queer as their sexuality and left it at that.

Ravi- okay so. I can't say a lot about Ravi because of spoilers. Which I'm very sorry about. BUT what I can say is that, for a long time, he figured he had to be gay. He had a boyfriend he loved, after all. If he's a guy attracted to other guys, then there isn't really any other option...right? Even if he noticed girls & other people the exact same way as he did most other boys. It wasn't the same as the heart-pounding, life-ending near obsession he felt for the boy he loved.

After his ex died, Ravi settled on the fact that he'd never fall in love again. (The man has a big storm coming). It wasn't until chatting with Jay and Yasmin about their own queerness that he realized that being bisexual was even an option. He felt kind of silly, after that. Of course it was. He quietly adopted the label and went about his day. It isn't like it matters, since he'll never date anyone else ever again ;)

Yasmin- probably had the easiest time of figuring herself out, save for maybe Croft. Yasmin is, if nothing else, deeply self-confident. She understands herself in a way few other people really do. She's known since she was little that she liked girls as well as boys. She has a distinct memory of telling her parents that she was going to marry Princess Jasmin someday. Her parents acted weridly concerned, until Yasmin clarified that it meant she'd have a pet tiger. They didn't realize that the 'marry a princess' part was just as important as the 'pet tiger' part.

As she grew older she understood that her attraction wasn't really limited to gender...but she still assumed she'd probably marry a man. It's still Easthaven, after all. Plus her parents weren't...the most accepting people in the world.

If Jay is a woman they had their 'friendship', and it made Yasmin blush and her heart beat faster, but she never really thought much of it. Yas is much more comfortable in her sexuality now--in the sense that she's not afraid of what the town would think if she dated a woman or nonbinary person--but...she's in a similar boat as Ravi. Never gonna have another long-term relationship, so it isn't really an issue? At least, that's what she thinks ;)

[wordpress-blaze-126741834]

"My Living Nightmare with an Online Bully: Episode 9"

After “The Bully” sent the email to the school and I was able to share all the details with Jeffrey, my department chair, he instructed me to forward all the communication between the student and me to him: all the correspondence from the time "The Bully" was enrolled in my class and all the comments he made on my blog. I had several emails saved and took screenshot photos of all course material communication with this student and forwarded it to Jeffrey. In all the electronic interaction I had with "The Bully," I was clearly cordial and professional. The only person’s tone who changed and became hostile was his. This was an observation Jeffrey pointed out as well. Now, I will add that since "The Bully" never signed his real name on the blog comments, we could only deduce, with logical reasoning and obvious clues, that he was the student who emailed my chair and deans to complain about me, accusing me of "racist and misandric attitudes."

After composing a narrative of the situation, which included a strong notion that the person harassing me on my blog and the person who complained to the school about me were the same individual, aka "The Bully," Jeffrey forwarded all the evidence to our department’s Dean of Academic Affairs (aka “Dean #1”) who then submitted it to the district’s Title IX office, known as the Office of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility (ODEIA). Basically, ODEIA takes care of all matters involving harassment and discrimination for all of the colleges within our community college district, and from my understanding, they would be handling this harassment on my behalf. I was the victim, not “The Bully,” but I honestly didn’t know what the ODEIA office would end up doing or how they would approach and take care of this. I just knew that I had my school and district on my side, and that was some relief for the time being. 

This all happened between July 8-10, as far as the school and district getting involved to help. But for the next two weeks, I heard nothing. Nothing from the school, nothing from the district and nothing from “The Bully.” I was thankful for the latter, but I didn’t know what was going to happen, or when and if “The Bully” would reach out to me again.

I was left with questions:

“Dean #1” sent the information to the district office, so what now?

Did the school and district get this matter with the student resolved?

 If so, why do I not know?

Has the district contacted “The Bully?”

And... how long would the feeling of impending doom last for me? 

Unanswered questions aside, I did my best to go on with my life. I taught my summer school class, hung out with friends, went to the movies, but the entire time, I was still feeling extremely insecure, and my anxiety was getting the best of me. I walked around with a sense of immense fear and anxiety, wondering if every white guy I came across was "The Bully." I still had no idea what this guy looked like.

An ominous shadow followed me wherever I went. I felt trapped, pinned down under a cloud of total bleakness, as I watched the world around me go on with their happy lives, my social media feed illustrating all the summer vacations, birthday and pool parties my community of friends and family were enjoying while I was feeling miserable and completely left out, wishing I were someone else. I couldn’t shake the insults “The Bully” threw at me, especially his remarks of calling me a racist toward white people and that I hated white men. I found myself overanalyzing all my past relationships, all with white men, all who dumped me, and all who I later held under negative scrutiny in my blog. Was I, perhaps, a man hater? I knew I wasn’t, but to echo a dear friend’s words, "The Bully" was living “rent-free” in my head, and I couldn’t evict him. 

Read on to Episode 10.

Source: "My Living Nightmare with an Online Bully: Episode 9"