#i will NOT claim he doesn't have bad moments. bcs he does

[paarthursass]

I'm sorry I'm sorry I keep seeing that post that goes "Xander spent years complaining about being powerless and then never took a self defense class" and it pisses me off. Soooo much. Bcs it is such a bad faith reading of Xander as a character and also a gross oversimplification that also misses the entire point of his character.

The brunt of Xander's "complaining" about being powerless happens in the first 3 seasons, and is highlighted particularly in the Zeppo which is about Xander coming to terms with being "the normal one" of the group. He accepts that his role will never be the one in the spotlight, he is the side character to people like Buffy and Willow and he accepts this. While he might make occasional jabs and jokes about being powerless throughout the rest of the show (season 4 in particular we see him floundering with his role, but in season 4 all of the Scoobies are adrift with where they belong, so this is not a Xander-exclusive issue here, that's the point of the season) he seems to settle fairly comfortably into his role. He gets a normal job. He becomes the guy who cleans up Buffy's house when she breaks things fighting demons. We see him further reaffirm his acceptance of this in Potential, when he comforts Dawn (after realizing she isn't a Potential Slayer like she thought, and therefor not "special") by confiding in her his own insecurities with being "the normal one" and then reassuring her that she doesn't need powers to be special. Xander doesn't need powers to be special. He knows his place in the group (affirmed in season 4, where he takes on the role of "the Heart" in the spell to defeat Adam).

And, dare I say it, him learning self defense to the point of being a fighter on par with someone like Riley would completely miss the point of his character. Buffy as a show loves to flip gender roles, and Xander is no exception to this. Xander takes on the stereotypical feminine role in the group dynamic: as stated before, he's "the Heart." He provides emotional support to Willow and Buffy. He's often the one staying home to watch over Dawn, he's the one who cleans up and repairs Buffy's house when it gets wrecked. As the show progresses he increasingly takes on the role of the caretaker and the homemaker. He's also often the damsel, requiring saving by Buffy. He saves Willow with the power of love. Xander "taking a self defense class" - or rather, becoming a 'fighter' like the post implies he should have done, would have run completely counteractive to the point (and subversion) of his character.

Yes, I understand why people have knee-jerk negative reactions to Xander. A lot of his comments haven't aged well, and particularly in the early seasons his treatment of Buffy and Willow isn't great. But he learns. He grows. He does, at some point, stop being an emotionally stunted 17 year old and grows up. I won't act like his character progression is perfect, and there are definitely plenty of Xander moments where I'm incapable of rooting for him, but to claim he "spent 7 years complaining about being powerless and never took a self defense class" is such a bad faith misrepresentation of who he is as a character, and where he stands in the story.

[lordsukunas]

best! friend sukuna headcanons

yall, ngl, he's just a red flag. he has his 'nice' moments but he's still an asshole! uh this is bound to be at least a little ooc bc lets bffr being his bff is unrealistic. anyway, pls enjoy! :3

best friend! sukuna who kicks the backs of your legs when you're standing, and then snicker when you crumple to the ground.

best friend! sukuna who skips the line and drags you along with him. he ignores the pathetic bitching and whining from the people who were in front of him. if they wanted their spot so bad, they should've got back in front of him.

best friend! sukuna who takes your phone off of the charger to charge his. and once his is on a hundred, he won't put yours back. you don't need your phone when you're with him anyway.

best friend! sukuna who insists on walking with you to the convenience store. it could be late at night or he could be in the middle of ripping someone's throat out for not giving him his damn money, and he'll still go.

best friend! sukuna who always makes sure you eat. post-sleepover and you're hungry? he's up, getting you something luxurious to eat at ten in the morning, and back at his apartment in a flash. he may have violated several traffic laws to do it, but at least you aren't starving.

best friend! sukuna who, ironically, cannot cook for shit. he always uses too much seasoning or disregards the given temperature from the recipe or doesn't bother with a crucial ingredient because he finds it nasty.

best friend! sukuna who enjoys poetry. it's something calming, peaceful, a stark contrast to all the blood he sheds daily. if you ask him for recommendations, he'll have an entire list engraved in his mind, tailored just to suit your tastes.

best friend! sukuna who eats up all of your snacks. oh, you have a bag of hot chips? he's eating them. the second he hears the rustling of a wrapper from your direction, he's holding his hand out. he knows you'll share. you always do.

best friend! sukuna who claims he only went to college because he was bored. while that does have some truth to it, isn't it convenient he's attending the same college as you? especially when he's never mentioned going or even caring about it, and the waitlist was so long.

best friend! sukuna who only cares for the things that directly interest and benefit him. he lives for him and him alone. you're lucky you've entertained for him as long as you have with that pretty smile, that annoyingly joyous, pure laugh and those endless rambles about the shows you've rewatched more times than he can count on one hand.

best friend! sukuna who hates how his breath catches when you show off a new outfit, how heat creeps up the back of his neck and warms his cheeks when you genuinely thank him, how he wants to cup your face in his massive, rough hands and press a kiss to your forehead.

best friend! sukuna who has never cared to love or be loved, not until he met you.

note: at some point i'll quit changing the way i format these posts... maybe idk. ALSOO i wanna write sumn abt yuuta to combat this post bc hes just a corny romantic n i love him ><

if u saw this w/o the cut... no u didn't.

[daenysx]

hi! could you write something for dad!aemond where alyssa watches a horror film for the first time and wakes him up in the middle of the night bc of a nightmare? thank u already, i love your writing and your modern!aemond stuff so much <3

thank you, angel ♡ i hope you enjoy

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

"wake up." someone whispers to aemond's ear. it's definitely not you, it takes him a few seconds to process a sound coming from his blindside.

"dad, wake up."

oh, there she is. aemond blinks his eye open and the sight of his daughter's silver hair in two frizzy braids welcomes him. she doesn't do that usually, coming into her parents' room in the middle of the night. she's almost 7, claims she's a big girl to get through the nights herself.

"what's wrong?" aemond asks, sleep dripping from his voice. he holds your hand as you reach for him in your rest. "what happened?"

"i can't sleep." alyssa says, softly. her eyes look huge under the moonlight.

aemond sits on bed carefully to not wake you up. he reaches for his girl. "do you want some milk, baby?"

"please." alyssa leans against his legs. "chocolate milk."

"we have to be silent, okay? mommy and aelyx are still sleeping."

alyssa holds her dad's hand as they walk to the kitchen in the darkness. the kitchen lights bother aemond's eye for a brief moment and then he gets to take in the sight of his daughter as she clings onto him.

"up you go." aemond lifts her so that she can sit on the counter. it's her favorite thing to do in the kitchen, sitting there as she watches her parents cook. he heats up a glass of milk quickly, stirring the chocolate mix alyssa likes into it. she doesn't say anything, which is a bit unusual. she'd definitely ask for more chocolate normally. aemond tries to keep his face cool.

he gives her the chocolate milk in her favorite glass, the one with winnie the pooh picture on it. she accepts it with a small thank you, drinking it in silence as aemond cleans up the little mess he made.

he catches alyssa's gaze on him as if she wants to say something. he waits for her, doesn't try to get the words out of her mouth. she takes her time, though, her sips get lingered as much as they can.

at the end, she has no choice but finishing the milk. she gives her glass to aemond, her pretty eyes watching the floor. aemond stands in front of her, holding her small hand and rubbing his thumb on the back of it.

"i had a nightmare." she starts saying. aemond nods first. "do you wanna tell me about it?" he asks.

"it was- about this movie i saw with gracie today." alyssa explains but she still seems hesitant. "her brother told her the name of the movie and she showed me some of it."

"okay." aemond whispers, his hand still holding hers. "what was it about?"

"um- it was a horror movie, dad." she finally says. "i didn't like it, i couldn't understand what was it about, really, but i'm- i saw the scenes of it in my nightmare."

her eyes fill with slow tears and aemond loses his mind just a bit right there. it always happens when she tears up. he quickly hugs her, her arms wrapping around his waist as much as she can.

"it's okay." he says, his thumb drying up the tears. "don't cry, baby, it's okay."

"i don't want to be a coward."

"you're not a coward just because you didn't like a horror movie." he says, softly. she's too much like his young self. "you don't have to enjoy everything you see."

"but gracie's brother was saying his friend is a coward because he got scared."

"i think gracie's brother is wrong." he does a good job being cool with a kid's ideas that clearly upset his girl, right? "many people don't like horror movies, that doesn't make them cowards, right?"

"really?"

"you know," he smiles. "i remember the first time uncle daeron saw a horror movie with us. it wasn't all that bad but he got so scared at night, he insisted to sleep in uncle aegon's bed."

"did he accept it?" alyssa asks, interested in the story.

"yes, actually. they slept in his room that night and after that everything was okay. no one made fun of daeron. well, except aegon of course, but that doesn't count."

finally she stops pouting and puts on a gorgeous, sleepy smile for her father. he takes her in his arms, carrying her to his room. "why don't you sleep in our bed tonight? i'm sure mommy will be happy about it."

alyssa nods, burying her head to aemond's shoulder. he puts her in the middle of the warm bed carefully. you blink your eyes open, trying to understand what's happening. "aemond?"

"we have a guest, sweetheart." aemond fixes the covers for the three of you. you give your girl a sleepy kiss on her cheek. "everything okay?" you ask.

"yes." he answers. "go back to sleep."

alyssa's hand stays still in her daddy's palm. if the monsters in the movie come looking for her, he will fight them off.

[six-improbable-things]

Soooo.... we ended up not actually testing ship combat... We spent 2 hours talking about the rules and making sure we were both solid on them and on the same page, and then the DM asked me a very unrelated question and we talked for almost 4 more hours and never tested ship combat. [*sigh*] Nah, I'm not mad I genuinely had a ton of fun talking to him. (We're very similar in some ways and complete opposites in others. It makes for interesting conversations.) Plus it gives me time to actually make the Tide Breaker's map... Since I didn't have that done for this week.

The dnd ship combat doc I made for my DM is 2.5 pages long now... (but that might be in part because I do not know how to be concise.) I know dnd is not the system for sea combat or extensive sailing. But it's happening anyways (blame me, ofc), so I'm going to make it work. Me and the DM are doing a trial run of ship combat tonight, and since I wrote the rules and also will be playing the captains of the ships we'll be on, I'm basically becoming co-DM for these fights, which is gonna be great.

[endlessburningdarkness]

the most sympathy shen yuan had for abused slave child shen jiu was "speechless" lmao he literally never thinks about him again. doesn't spare a second to consider how he's using a former slave's body without his permission. this is the guy who canonically feels guilty for all sorts of things he can't control, like lbh having to go into the abyss.

so why does he feel guilty for one thing he can't control and not about another? bc he doesn't care about shen jiu or have sympathy for him.

the one thing he never angsts about is the goddamn slave who's life, name, and identity he inadvertently stole. shen yuan angsts about lbh falling into the abyss not because he has sympathy for everyone, but specifically bc he likes and cares about lbh. he is biased towards lbh. he doesn't consider how shen jiu, again a former slave, would feel about having his body be used against his will by shen yuan, bc he doesn't give a goddamn fuck about shen jiu. no, he's not compartmentalizing, bc we would see him try to keep those thoughts away, he just doesn't have them.

shen yuan had sympathy in your head, not in the text.

you have sympathy for shen jiu, but projecting it onto shen yuan doesn't mean shen yuan magically has it. he canonically does not demonstrates sympathy, he demonstrates surprise, shock, and on single moment of "huh, i guess he had a bad childhood," and then he moves the fuck on bc he couldn't care less.

if he cared even the tiniest amount, he would be a lot more goddamn careful with the body he's inadvertently occupying. not blow it up or let it be ripped open by demon cock over and over. shen jiu doesn't consent to any of that either btw, and that is still his body. not shen yuan's. just bc shen yuan is in it doesn't mean he has the right to do whatever he wants.

this such basic body autonomy that i can't believe it needs to be fucking said. no one has a right to another person's body, not even if they got in there by accident. goddamn pro life type argument to say shen yuan should do whatever he likes with a body that is not his own and will never be his own just bc he got trapped in there.

i get you want shen yuan to be this super duper nice perfect mary sue self-insert you can project onto but he just isn't that. his primary motivation is to save himself for fucks sake. he is selfish. his favourite character lbh is canonically a rapist. a fact he has no issue with even when it's said to his face. he's a flawed character. let him be fucking flawed! it's fine for him to enjoy life in the body of someone who did not consent and fine for him not to think twice about it.

let him be flawed.

and it's always this flaw of his, this lack of sympathy for the villain that people get hung up over. all his other flaws are fucking hilarious. but this one has people crying tears of blood. it makes perfect sense for shen yuan not to have sympathy. it makes sense for him to believe all the wrong rumours about shen jiu. bc shen jiu was the villain, and shen yuan wants to believe he was just pure evil, and lbh was pure good. there's certainly a stunning irony in the fact that you display he same failure of reading comprehension for shen yuan is the very one he displays himself lol. shen yuan was wrong about the villain, and thats fine for his character.

when shen yuan has sympathy for someone, he treats them like lbh. lbh crippled countless cultivators, he still nearly fucked over the whole world, he turned the OPM into a stick. shen yuan has no issue with lbhs darkness and violence, but his stans sure seem to shy away from it, and from shen yuan's glaring lack of interest in behaving in a moral manner. neither shen yuan or lbh are good people, and thats fine. that's what makes them interesting in fact, and yet they get sanded down into basic ass stereotypical "good guys who can do no wrong" by people who claim to love them.

[beneathsilverstars]

been doing research on writing plural systems for sif+loop in mundane modern aus, and i think i've got a solid idea of what i want to do! specifics may vary by au but i wanted a base set of headcanons to vary from, so sif+loop being a system can be a background fact of my au musings instead of something i have to reinvent every time.

(i'm a singlet so if any systems have concrit or thoughts they want to share i'd be happy to hear it! i'm not like planning a fic or anything currently, but it's still nice to not be working off of misconceptions for my silly little posts.)

siffrin took over as the main host in their late teens and doesn't remember anything from before that. in their early-mid 20s their work/housing situation was horrible and when they couldn't take another day like that, siffrin split into loop (who kept the mid 20s memories, with a new personality) and siffrin take two (who remembers the 17-20 era a bit better, but then there's a big gap). between the two of them they were able to cope better and hold a not-as-awful job and get a shitty apartment all to themselves!

siffrin fronts more often on average, because they're better at quietly accomplishing day-to-day tasks. but if he gets too overwhelmed or anxious (think their mini loop-backs in canon) then loop takes over, bc loop dgaf about some of the things siffrin worries about, and doesn't shut down as easily. but since they don't bottle up their feelings as severely, they're more likely to react outwardly and make rash choices like quitting their job, being rude, splurging on little treats, etc. so that's why siffrin is the default fronter for things like work and chores, when he's feeling up to it.

loop is fairly aware of what's going on while siffrin is fronting - sometimes they choose to tune more of it out, but they can catch most of it if they want to, and sometimes siffrin will talk to them or nudge them to pay attention. since they know at least the basics of what siffrin was up to, they can usually step in pretty smoothly when they need to take over! and it's very easy for them to take over, with or without siffrin's say-so, though they try to ask if it's not an emergency (and if it is an emergency, siffrin is likely trying to back away from the front anyway).

when loop is fronting, though, siffrin is entirely away, dreaming in the void. loop can nudge them for a vague opinion or relevant memory, but they can't hold a full conversation and they're not aware of what loop's doing. when loop puts them in the front again they're usually disoriented and need a moment for loop to tell them what's been happening. and again, loop is the one deciding to switch; sometimes siffrin might resist getting pulled back if they're still feeling bad, or get antsy and start reaching out if they've been asleep a while or are having bad dreams, but they're not gonna react to environmental situations since they're not aware of them.

mal is in there too but doesn't front. its role is to be socially hyper-vigilant, pointing out when other people might be upset at them so the alter who's fronting knows to fix it or avoid the person. it's been around longer than siffrin, and was helpful way back then, but now that siffrin and loop have worked out an effective balance and are fairly safe, mal's behavior is somewhat maladaptive (ha!). it's not super directly aware of the outside world like loop is, not anymore at least, but it does get secondhand memories from both siffrin and loop. it actually sometimes remembers facts and details that sif and loop both quickly forgot, because maybe those details will end up relevant to spotting and avoiding future problems - but since it got the memories secondhand and filtered them through a particularly paranoid worldview, it's likely to misremember subjective interpretations as literal truth, so you gotta take its claims with a grain of salt.

it mostly hangs out in the void imagining fractals and whatnot these days, keeping an eye on siffrin while they sleep. it occasionally perks up and chimes in with its pessimistic point of view when siffrin is really upset - it can communicate better with sleeping siffrin than loop can. loop is not on speaking terms with it because they're mad that it goes behind loop's back and makes siffrin more upset right when loop is trying to shield him from the upsetting situation. but siffrin doesn't mind it bc it's just trying to help in its own way, and sometimes it is helpful to face their fears in plain words instead of avoiding them. and siffrin will sometimes ask it for help with like, puzzles, because it's good at pattern recognition.

there's also a no-longer-quite-dormant alter that presumably fronted for much of the body's childhood. they don't hang out in siffrin and mal's void, and they don't talk to anyone else within the system. but now that the system is more safe and stable, every once in a while something will catch their attention and they'll gently push to the front and start talking. as soon as their train of thought is interrupted they're gone again, and the other alters don't even remember that they got usurped for a moment, a la siffrin's bits of telling childhood anecdotes in canon. loop and siffrin have surmised that they exist, and call them the lost one.

mal has also implied that there's at least one more dormant alter, but it's from before siffrin-and-loop's time and possibly mal's as well.

if something happens that's so distressing that siffrin retreats into headspace and loop won't take over either, the body goes into dissociated autopilot. it will follow basic one-step instructions (such as "follow me" or "eat this"), speak in a couple simple scripts (such as answering "how are you" with "i'm fine"), and complete rote tasks such as taking a familiar route home from work or going to bed. loop doesn't pay much attention because that would defeat the point / put them back in front, so they usually have very little if any idea of what happened in this state, but it is possible for outside events to catch their attention enough for them to try fronting again. otherwise they'll be back next time the body wakes up. siffrin, on the other hand, usually won't front for at least a day or two after this happens, and will likely have forgotten the events leading up to it as well.

it doesn't happen very often since it's the very last resort, after siffrin dissociating, loop taking over, and loop dissociating. loop and siffrin don't consider the autopilot an alter because it doesn't form memories, have emotions or opinions, or interact in the headspace; it just follows where it's led, by habit or outside influence. loop has argued in favor of trying to imbue it with more personhood so it's less uncanny for other people to interact with and can get loop's attention when the distressing thing is over, but siffrin argues that if it can think that defeats the point, and they'd just end up with this new alter and a new autopilot.

past all that, the specifics will depend on the exact au; particularly the ratio of loop time to siffrin time will depend on how much siffrin works and how awful their job is, whether siffrin and/or loop have friends yet, etc. but i think when they're doing pretty well they'd be happy with siffrin doing work/chores and most of the activities that they both enjoy (since then they'll both remember it), and loop fronting for maybe a third of their free time to do their own thing, and maybe here and there if something goes wrong at work. and then if siffrin starts feeling burnt out, they swap for a couple days of loop doing most things and siffrin just coming out for an hour or two. siffrin and mal probably talk maybe a couple times a month, unless siffrin is really going through it, in which case they might talk a lot for a couple days. it also might be possible for mal to eventually adapt a little more to being safe, and start providing a wider range of possible interpretations instead of just the worst case scenario.

ok that's all! and as i said, i'm totally open to feedback. :3

[bbyquokka]

6:55 pm (bc)

genre: timestamp, smut — MDNI!

warnings: fem reader, unestablished relationship, virgin reader, fuckboy chan, best friend chan, oral (f rec), vaginal fingering, pet names.

words: 1.4k ~ (1470)

a/n: this + the teaser pics = this mess. this sucks but i havent wrote smut since the changbin fic

☆ m.list — ☆ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

“c-chan. wait–” you breathily whimper, fingers wrapped around the man's black locks. his fingertips dig into the skin of your thighs, teeth scraping the insides before gently nipping at the skin.

he looks at you through his lashes, a cocky and mischievous smirk resting on his lips. his tongue slowly darts out to moisten the skin leaving them to glisten in the faint light from the residue of his saliva.

you swallow thickly, your heart beating against your chest at an erratic pace. your body temperature has risen to max. it's a habit of yours to speak and not know when to shut up, especially in embarrassing situations–like five minutes ago to be exact.

you casually stated to your best friend (and fuckboy for that matter) that you've never been eaten out before. chan is your best male friend, a person you feel safe with so you have no problem over sharing, however, once you realised what you had said due to the fact that chan had a shit eating grin, did you curse yourself of your bad habit.

chan is the type of person to only do one night stands. he claims that relationships require time and effort–which he doesn't have right now. one night stands are easy for him. it's a quick fuck and you're done.

you don't care. chan is a grown man, he can do whatever he likes. however, you've heard the rumours floating around about how good chan is at eating pussy so naturally, it piqued your curiosity.

you just didn't expect that same man to be between your legs at this current moment in time.

“you want me to wait?” he cocks his eyebrow. the silver from his brow piercing faintly catching the light. “even after i've got you this worked up?”

you swallow as he hums. his fingertips delicately rubbing your aching cunt through the material of your soaked panties. he presses the pad of his finger against your clit, applying enough pressure to send tingles of pleasure up your spine. you gently tug on his hair causing chan to laugh 

“you and me both know that you don't want me to stop, doll.” he purrs before suckling on the skin of your inner thigh. he leaves purple bruises and teeth marks, your body reacting to the foreign yet pleasurable feeling.

he leaves feather-like kisses on the skin, inching closer and closer to your cunt. he looks up at you for any signs of him to stop, but when he is met with nothing but rosy cheeks and doe eyes, he continues. 

using his middle and index finger, he slowly rubs between your folds through your panties. you let out shaky breathes, chan humming softly as he feels how wet your panties are.

“fuck.. your panties have soaked up your juices nicely.”

“do you have to comment on it?” you mumble, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you.

“what can i say? i like to be vocal.” he says with a smirk before hooking his fingers under the waistband. “can i?”

you nod slowly, swallowing your accumulated saliva. you lift your hips up as chan pulls your panties down your legs and onto the floor. you're met with the cold air of the room hitting your soaked pussy as chan stares at it with hungry eyes.

“shit.. it's so pretty. you're so pretty yn.”

“stoppp.” you whine, legs aromatically closing as an attempt to make chan not stare anymore.

“no.” he whispers, gently prying your legs open again “let me see.” 

you whimper. cheeks flushing pink as you watch chan. his hungry eyes flicker as they take in every detail of your lower half. the way your slick coats your folds and shimmers in the light. how puffy and swollen your clit is. how your entrance pulsates as it waits to be filled with something.

“gosh you're so pretty!” he growls before diving head first between your legs. you shriek as a sudden explosion of pleasure shoots up your spine due to chan's wet tongue gliding over your puffy clit.

“f-fuckk!!” you groan out. he hums as he uses the tip of his tongue to swirl around the bud before licking long strips. he then starts to suck and gently nibble on the bud before slowly licking down to your entrance. 

you moan his name softly, his tongue lapping up your slick. he moans against your cunt from the way you taste, a switch inside him suddenly flipping making him want more of you. the way you sound, the way you taste makes him want so much more of you.

you tug at his hair as his tongue dives in and out of your entrance. breathy moans and shaky whimpers escape from your throat as your body and mind becomes consumed with the foreign feeling of pleasure. you free one hand from his hair to glide under your t-shirt.

you cup your own breast, squeezing and massaging the flesh as you unknowingly buck your hips against chan's face. the tip of his nose bumps against your clit which adds to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

chan smirks, letting you do as you please. he lets you buck and ride his face, his tongue alternating from entrance to clit. your fingers pinch and tug at your nipples, head flopping to the side as your lips part.

with shaky thighs, you desperately try to close your legs around his head but chan is strong. with the grip he currently has, it's a useless fight; a fight you should just give up on.

slick and saliva coats chan's face. your moans and the way your body moves sending tingles of pleasure down chan's spine and straight to his aching balls. his cock straining against his jeans. every now and then, he roughly squeezes and palms himself to relieve him of the ache.

you look down as chan pulls away slightly, your brows furrowing together as a way of asking: “everything ok?” chan simply smirks before gathering up some spit and spitting on your cunt.

your eyes widen a little at the dirty, yet attractive, action. all thoughts are quick to leave your mind once you feel chan rub and smear the saliva on your clit and folds. using two fingers, he rubs between your folds getting the skin coated in your slick. 

he teasingly dips the tips of his fingers inside your entrance to be greeted by sudden warmth and the feeling of you clenching around him. he laughs softly as he looks at you, your pink cheeks and doe eyes staring down at him as you chew your lip.

“is this o–”

“yes!” you hastily interrupt “yes! just fuck me chan. please.. i'm aching to feel something.” you curse your virgin self for sounding so desperate, but you couldn't help it. the pleasure you're feeling is so new and scary. you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wasn't scared of what's next but you know you're safe with chan and with each moan you make, the more you love it.

chan swallows thickly as he clenches his jaw. he makes a mental note of how adorable and submissive you look right now, forever burning the image into his brain. 

he'll use that to jerk off later.

he slowly pushes his fingers inside, stopping at the first knuckle. you groan at the feeling of fullness alongside with how thick his fingers feel. he curls his fingers against your walls, slowly pumping them.

your walls contract around him, holding onto his fingers tightly as if you're scared he will escape. he slowly picks up the pace, your eyes fluttering shut. he dares to push his fingers deeper inside, finger curling and caressing your walls.

he angles each thrust in an attempt to hit that spot he knows so well–and when he does, his ears and eyes are blessed with the sight and sound of you. 

you let out a long and desperate moan, back arching as his fingertips abuse your g-spot. you shakily reach down, holding onto his wrist as you dig your nails into the skin. chan smirks before sucking on your clit again.

“fuck fuck fuck. chan, so good. fuck!” you moan, your throat becoming dry from all the panting you've been doing.

“good girl.” chan mumbles “you're doing so well for me.”

your core clenches, stomach dipping and body sweating. you can't say or do anything because you're so consumed with pleasure. you're hazy and all you can think about is having chan's cock deep inside you, ruining your insides.

chan loves the way you sound, taste, smell and feel. his animalistic side getting the better of him as his fingers drive in and out and tongue swirling around your puffy clit.

he wants more; so much more.

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @oshimee ; @fairylouist ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[mixelation]

wait here's a different way the end of the chunin exams in iwa could go

team 4 still does the same stuff: iwa grabs kushina, kushina yeets tori away. tori runs off to get itachi and deidara; the team then splits up to grab both kushina and ibiki. rn i'm thinking tori-deidara go for ibiki. tori wants to go to kushina but itachi is like "no, you're the ONLY one who can do the transportation jutsu for our mission" so the compromise is he goes after kushina. deidara ends up with tori because she needs extra muscle more, even though deidara would be better at FINDING kushina bc he knows iwa better. instead he just sort of points itachi in a direction.

tori by herself can do the transportation jutsu but it will be rougher when executed solo. she deems ibiki's physical condition too poor to risk it. they get him on a bird and fly out.

okay, so, my original idea was itachi finds a half-conscious kushina and gets her out of the village on foot. this is an insane feat he accomplishes with "massive genjutsu means no one notices for a hot second" no jutsu. iwa eventually realizes they've lost their very impotant hostage, which means they are screwed. they decide to blow up the problem to hide evidence (this will look BAD for them but no evidence means they can claim team 4 started it, which is less bad PR than what they actually did getting out). team 4 gets a fight, kushina recovers quickly enough itachi is like what the fuck, ma'am, and they flee into the night safe and sound.

i think i will keep this as ""canon"" bc it lets team 4 have thier moments. but here's a fun little alt au ending feat. minato:

okay, so, in the minato one shot we see kushina summon chains that aren't attached to her body. so i was thinking it'd be cute if minato had a necklace or bracelet made from one of her chains. it's also a ~kushina's health~ indicator: the chain with break/evaporate if she runs low on chakra (which would ONLY happen in a dire situation), or she can undo it herself if she needs to summon him. remember, her jinchuriki seal has a hiraishin integrated into it, so minato can go to her whenever he wants. minato spends a lot of time fiddle with his chain and sighing wistfully when she's out of the village.

then one day, the chain breaks. minato doesn't even think about it; he's by her side 0.2 seconds later. and then.... fuck it i just wrote it lol

****

Kushina was slumped over Uchiha Itachi’s shoulders. Itachi retaliated the second he felt a presence behind him. Minato dispelled all three layers of the genjutsu, knocked the short sword out of his hand, picked up his wife, and shoved Itachi away.  

His goal was to get Itachi away from him for long enough to orient himself. If he’d bothered to watch him, he’d get to watch Itachi’s reaction to being pushed around like a child: confusion mixed with a little bit of terror.

Sagged over in his arms, Kushina’s eyes were unfocused and her face was clammy with a cold sweat. He’d never seen her like this before. 

“M’nato?” she slurred, and Minato felt a wave of relief at the sound of her voice. “Feel like shit.”

If she was talking, she was going to be okay. Minato shifted her, pulling her into a princess carry. Kushina’s head rolled against his chest, and Minato felt a stab of worry. Kushina was a live, but what the fuck had they done to her?

“Hokage-sama?” Itachi asked, voice wary. He had not moved to retrieve his sword. He didn’t need it; all five Iwa-nin in the room were already dead. Minato must have crashed his rescue attempt. 

“You have permission to approach,” Minato told him. “What happened?”

Itachi gave him the succintest of summaries: Kushina and Tori had been intercepted while attempting to retrieve Morino Ibiki. Kushina had gotten Tori out, and Tori had gone for back-up. Itachi had then found Kushina here, in an underground detention facility. Tori reported Kushina as having chakra-poisoning. It was unclear if Iwa suspected them of their own betrayal of their agreement, or if their attack had unrelated motives. Minato thought the latter: there was only one known chakra toxin that could poison someone enough to take out someone like Kushina, and it was extremely difficult to synthesize. This had been planned. 

Minato felt a flash of rage. All that posturing about how he was the dangerous one, how he was the one who might unjustly destroy Iwa’s security, and this is what they did? 

“Okay,” Minato said, very carefully keeping his voice level. “I’ll handle it.”

“Sir?” Itachi replied. “Handle which part?”

“Hold this,” Minato said, and handed him a kunai. 

Minato teleported Kushina back to Konoha and left her with a medic. “Fuck ‘em up, dawling,” she told him, patting a random part of his face. Then he stopped briefly at home to grab weapons. Then, approximately three minutes after he’d left him, he went back to Itachi. 

Itachi, for once in his life, seemed to be at a loss for words. 

“Do you know how to get out of here?” Minato asked. 

Itachi led him down a hallway, up some stairs, and then down another hallway, passing zoned out Iwa-nin after Iwa-nin staring at the walls or passed out on the floor in the wake of Itachi’s genjutsu. Minato paused a couple times to draw Hiraishin markers, just in case. Itachi waited for him without comment. 

“Do you know which way the Tsuchikage’s office is?” Minato asked once they were on the ground floor and he could see sunlight through a window. “I’d like to talk to him.”

“I believe it’s towards the mountains,” Itachi said, “although he might be overseeing events related to the exam.”

Minato hummed.

“What would you like me to do?” Itachi asked when they reached the front doors of the building.

“Go find your team, please,” Minato told him. “Keep that kunai on you.”

Minato tossed a kunai out the door, and then he was off. 

Iwa was prettier than Minato thought it would be. Red mountains towered above them, and the sky felt closer and more open than it did anywhere in Fire Country. Most of the buildings were grand old things, tall and narrow and brushing up against each other with pointed roofs. The roofs were steep; not convenient for ninja travel. The ninja here all went underground when they wanted to be quick and avoid civilians. 

The narrow streets were crowded, people all herded together as they spilled out of the stadium. This didn’t particularly bother Minato; most of them were civilians who didn’t even notice him pass by, one kunai throw after the other. 

The administration building, when he found it, was carved into the mountainside. This was a really impressive use of earth ninjutsu, he would admit. 

There was a sign that said the building was closed to the public today, due to the chunin exams. Minato painted another hiraishin marker under it. 

Lucky me, he thought as his hand moved in quick, practiced strokes. He usually tried very hard not to kill civilians. 

No one expected him, despite the audacity of kidnapping his wife. 

“Excuse me,” he said to the kunoichi at the front desk. “Where is the Tsuchikage’s office?”

“He’s not taking visitors today,” she started, voice sharp and annoyed. Her eyes met his. Confusion flashed across her face. Minato smiled, charming. Confusion drained into horror. 

“That’s a shame,” Minato replied, and then she was dead. 

The building was fully staffed. Chunin exams took a lot of extra hours from admin behind the scenes, and ninja missions never stopped. Minato picked people off, one by one, as he moved through the building. The Kage’s office was usually at the top, right? They didn’t have intel on Iwa, but that’s where everyone else’s were… 

He was quick enough no one had realized what was happening and mounted a counter until he was on floor six. He wasn’t really sure if it was people trying to leave or fight back, but either way they all ended up dead. The entire hallway was sticky with blood, his sandals making that annoying squelching noise as he walked. 

I guess this is why no one ever invites me to their villages, Minato thought. Hiruzen had visited both Suna and Kiri for Chunin Exams. Minato always got a polite note suggesting he send a representative. He was kind of jealous, actually. Minato liked travel and meeting new people. All they had to do was not kidnap his wife and he’d be happy to play nice and not leave hiraishin markers places. 

Oonoki was seated behind his desk, a wall of Iwa ANBU in front of him. Cute. Minato dispatched them in the span of an inhale of breath.

“Hi,” Minato said, standing in front of Oonoki’s desk. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Namikaze Minato, Hokage of Konoha.”

To his credit, Oonoki did not cower. He did not bother with a useless attack. He met Minato’s eyes, gaze steely. 

“Killing me would be an act of war,” Oonoki said grimly. 

Minato raised his eyebrows. “Sure,” he agreed. He leaned forward, letting just a little bit of killing intent out to punctuate his words. ”And so would attacking and kidnapping my wife.”

Oonoki stayed silent. Minato reeled himself back in. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Minato said, uncapping another bottle of ink. He went to work drawing a Hiraishin marker on the Tsuchikage’s desk. “I am going to go get my shinobi. I’m going to kill whoever I want along the way. Then I will leave, and we won’t have to talk about this ever again.”

Minato leaned forward, grasping Oonoki’s chin in his hand. It was scratchy with the scraggly hairs of an old man’s thinning beard. Oonoki did nothing to resist him tilting his head back, pride keeping his gaze hard. 

“And you,” Minato continued, pressing his brush to the man’s forehead to draw one last marker, “will do nothing. No declaration of war. No retaliation on Konoha or Fire Country. Got it?”

He pulled his hand back, letting Oonki go. He pocketed the brush. The wet ink of the hiraishin marker glimmered on the old man’s face, a new permanent fixture to his skin. 

“Do you understand?” Minato reiterated. “Say it.”

There was a long silence, stretching on and on between them. Minato kept eye contact, smile pleasant. 

“I understand,” Oonoki said. 

“Excellent,” MInato replied. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

He teleported to the marker he’d given Itachi. 

Team 4 was currently in Ibiki’s holding cell, having an argument. There was an incredible amount of blood everywhere, considering there was only one dead Iwa-nin in there with them. Ibiki himself was sat against the wall, emaciated with two black eyes. New scars decorated his scalp. He watched Team 4 with what was either exhaustion or intense judgment. Horrific evidence of torture aside, his expression perked up when he noticed Minato. 

“No, I can’t do the jutsu solo if you want him to not get brain damage,” Tori was saying, jabbing her finger aggressively into Itachi’s chest. “Either summon the Hokage back or–”

“Hey,” Minato interrupted, and Tori basically jumped out of her skin. 

“Jesus FUCK–”

“I’ll take him back,” Minato announced, and ninety seconds later, Ibiki was in his prepared hospital room and Minato was back in the holding cell. 

“Um,” Tori said. 

“What the fuck?” Deidara said. 

“Oh wow,” Minato said, having noticed the blood splattered on one wall had been painted into words: Can you find them all? with a hiraishin marker below. “Tori, this is mean.”

Funny. But mean. 

The look Tori gave him was vaguely affronted. 

“What’s our exit plan?” Itachi asked. “Are we also teleporting?”

Minato spun a kunai around his finger casually. “I can take you home first,” he said. “But thought I’d walk.”

[ghostytoad]

Omg I loved the raph req you just did!! Could I req basically the same thing but with a reader that’s similar to Leo instead? Thanks a ton<3

jfksdjhgklsh i've had to break this into multiple parts bc they turned out a little long, but hopefully they're just as good TwT

* Fun n' Games *

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Leo-esque reader who enjoys drama, making jokes, and being overall awesome

Summary: The Hamato brothers unexpectedly fall for the smug, but genuine, fun-loving reader despite their egocentric habits

Headcanons for: Raphael

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff || Words: 1.3k

Donnie | Leo | Mikey | Bonus!!

Raph:

oh god, he's gotten his fill of worry-fueled headaches dealing with his little brother's shenanigans; why, WHY great pizza supreme in the sky did there have to be another one??

y/n's reckless antics has him worrying himself into an early grave, especially when they're so keen on proving themselves to everyone with dangerous stunts and high-action battles

it's not that he doesn't enjoy the odd adventure or two with them, but y/n's a HUMAN and he's a WAR MACHINE. he has to be extra cautious around them!

he's taken it upon himself to keep an eye on y/n at (almost) all times bc of their more impulsive actions; he is the oldest and biggest hamato after all, so who better to protect y/n?

if they're out and about with leo or mikey, he will DEFINITELY be there to intervene bc he knows those two are just askin' for trouble; he's their only braincell and they're NOT leaving him behind

it's through his constant surveillance (with some help from donnie), that he slowly starts to realize his feelings for them runs deeper than just wanting to keep them safe

god forbid y/n tries to hide their latest blunder or misadventure, raph will have an absolute FIT (nothing physical obviously, he'll probably get all pouty and insecure)

"look, i know i might not look it but inside, raph is just as scared as anyone else that the people i love could get hurt. i'm not mad, i'm just… tryna look out for you, y'know?"

mikey likes to tease raph for "babying y/n", which says a lot when it comes from the literal baby of the family; kinda forces raph to rethink his overbearing behavior

once he realizes just how overbearing and borderline scary he's being, he will do his best to back off and cut back on all the 'stalking' and 'babying'

will genuinely laugh at y/n's jokes, no matter how bad they are; even if leo literally made the same exact joke 10 minutes ago, raph can't help but double over wheezing with laughter when they say it

he finds y/n's delivery a lot better than leo's; genuinely thinks they are the funniest person alive

he will sometimes join in on y/n's teasing whenever it's directed at his brothers or at an enemy while they're fighting; if he manages to make y/n laugh at one of his jokes, he'll be over the moon with joy

has the habit of accidentally referring to y/n as 'leo' when he's scolding them or going into a long rant about staying safe or something; it's not that he sees y/n as a "human leo", he's just used to getting onto the red slider turtle for the same exact shenanigans so it's like an auto-response

immediately catches himself the moment he does misname them and profusely apologizes through his flustering tears; forgets what he was even mad about every time it happens

for a while, raph considered getting y/n a guard dog or something to watch over them but would they even want a dog? what if they're allergic or they have a terrible fear of dogs or something!

on top of that, despite claiming to be "good with animals", he basically scares off any small animal that comes within 10 ft of his towering stature

but aha, an idea! what if instead of a pet, he gave y/n something special of his? something he can trust to take care of them

as long as y/n PROMISES to keep it safe and clean, raph will gift them one of his special teddy bears to watch over them when he's not around

won't admit it, but he finds y/n's big ego and constant bragging to be incredibly endearing and will add to it whenever he can

like yeah, what isn't to like? they're cool, funny, they know where all the action's at, they have the prettiest eyes; it's no wonder y/n is as confident as they are - to be honest, raph's not sure why EVERYONE doesn't feel the same way about y/n

likes to use his special raph-exclusive catchphrase 'like a boss' to describe everything y/n does (a high honor in his culture)

"did you guys catch how y/n totally shut those clowns down like a boss?? i betcha they could take you three down no sweat!"

gaming buddies!! it's one of his favorite pasttimes and what better way to channel y/n's competitive energy than with some good ol' beat 'em ups

1v1 video game marathons are GUARANTEED to last days for the two of them; they've both managed to lose major sleep bc of how invested they get into the competition

but sleep deprivation has a habit of making fools of us all, even headstrong turtle mutants. and y/n just happens to be the subject of raph's sleepy rambles

"I swear, I can't feel my eyes…" Y/N's croaky, tired voice muttered as they fought sleep against the now-deflated beanbag, the dim glow of the television screen highlighting the dark circles of exhaustion, "How long have we been playing?"

Slumped over next to Y/N was the large turtle, struggling to muster a coherent sentence as total nonsense tumbled from his lips. As he lay facedown across his own plush beanbag, controller lazily dangling from his large hand, he continued to mutter unintelligably.

"Alright, big guy, let's get you to bed." Y/N groaned as they sat up to stretch. They couldn't help but smile as they watched Raph's sleepy form slump further forward in protest, his knuckles brushing against the floor from how far he'd shifted. He was stubborn to be sure, and all of this just to win a single round. It's not like Y/N didn't warn him ahead of time just how epic their combat gaming skills were! He really should've heeded their warning, it would've saved him hours of humiliating losses and subsequent insomnia.

"L'go one more roun'…" Raph finally managed to grumble, his voice tapering off as the drowsiness overcame him once again. He refused to let the night end until he'd bested his opponent at least once.

"Nuh uh, we're getting you to bed and that's final." the amusement in Y/N's tone stirred the mutant back awake.

"Fine, but I'll getcha next time." Raph finally relented with a sluggish grin and heavy-lidded eyes. With a grunt, he pushed himself up off the sack and was sent stumbling into Y/N's awaiting arms. They struggled to keep a grip on his large form, nearly losing their balance once his full weight shifted onto them. In an impressive show of determination, Y/N had managed to carry Raph into his room, opting to (not so gracefully) toss the massive turtle back onto his bed. Raphael didn't anticipate such a toss and with a hand still tightly gripped onto Y/N's waist, he managed to yank the human down with a light thud against his chest. If it had been anyone else, Raph would've been embarrassed enough, but this particular situation was one he'd keep himself awake at night thinking about. And yet here Y/N was, eyes wide with surprise and body held snug against his, completely unaware of Raph's affection for them. Would they leave? Would they scold him for being too clumsy? Did they think he was a creep?

"Uh… s-sorry. Did I hurt ya?" he managed to stutter, his expression flustered and suddenly alert. Despite the internal conflict, his hand held firm on their waist as if it was urging them to stay.

"No, no, I'm fine. We can chalk this up to you being a sore loser though~" Y/N teased with a light smirk, the dark blush that dusted across their face very evident, only rivaled by the even darker shade that burned at Raph's.

A soft silence fell over the both of them as they timidly avoided each other's gazes, neither willing to yield.

"Um… Good night, Raph-a-doodle. Love ya…" Y/N hummed, nuzzling deeper into his chest while they tried to settle into their new sleeping position. Raph couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped him, but the way Y/N looked so peaceful and snug on top of him brought him back into the quiet lull of slumber. They were actually going to stay. Did that mean that they…?

He'd leave that question for another night.

[sunrayram]

You mentioned Angel Dust becoming friends (?) with Alastor in your AU, so what is their relationship like? Did being humbled by Husk soften Alastor's rough edges?

So Angel Dust and Alastor have a very ... interesting relationship. In the beginning, Alastor cannot stand Angel Dust. The flirting gets on his nerves, and he's already on a short fuse. In turn, Angel just thinks Alastor is an angry asshole, always two seconds away from snapping. He reminds Angel a lot of the guys he'd met in the mafia, honestly. So yeah, they really don't get along, until episode 4.

Husk doesn't call out Angel for being fake this time, because Angel just isn't his focus at this point. Instead, this episode opens with Alastor finally really snapping at Angel, genuinely scaring the other man after a sex joke goes to far. Shaken up, Angel gets called in by Valentino. The incident with Charlie and Val in the studio happens as it does in canon, and Angel returns to the hotel bruised and battered. Angel's looking for a sharp edge to self-destruct against, so when he runs into Alastor that night, he pushes against his boundaries again. Alastor flies off the handle. He threatens to kill Angel, to make it hurt, but Angel's so upset that he doesn't take any of Alastor's threats seriously. Or, well, he's taking them seriously, he just doesn't care.

But Alastor's biggest trigger right now is not being heard/people steamrolling over his wants, so Angel is fucking with him like nobody's business. The fight ramps up higher and higher until Husk comes down and pulls them apart. Husk tears into Alastor, and it makes him so upset that he almost destroys the parlor and rushes away to his room. Husk, having only seen Alastor looming over Angel and genuinely thinking that Alastor was going to maim him, tries to apologize to Angel for Alastor's behavior. But in that moment, having watched Husk pull Alastor back by the throat mere minutes before, Angel can't really respond.

Exhausted by this whole awful day, Angel goes to his room to pass out. He wakes up in the middle of the night (I hc Angel Dust has trauma-induced insomnia and it is a bitch) and goes to get a drink. There, he finds Alastor again. He's locked himself up in the kitchen (an area Alastor had firmly claimed as his own as soon as he came to the hotel) Angel sits against the locked door in silence for awhile, and then, hesitantly, he apologizes. He says that he didn't want to be the kind of person that pushed someone that far. He says that in the moment, he was just looking for a way to take control of the pain he was feeling. He felt like if he was the one causing the pain to himself, it wasn't that bad.

There's a moment of silence, and then the radio on the lounge table crackles to life. Alastor quietly says that he doesn't want to open the door. Angel gets up to leave, but Alastor clarifies that he didn't mean Angel should go. Alastor says that he knows what it feels like to have no control. He confesses that he can't remember the last time he had control over anything. Angel tells Alastor that he has control here. Unlike earlier, Angel was listening, and he wasn't going to open the door. The two of them spend the rest of the night there. Not really talking, not really performing, just ... existing. Angel eventually falls asleep, and Alastor leaves the meal he made laid out for Angel when he wakes up.

There's a companionship, after this. Both of them can be too much for the other sometimes, but they know when to stop now. If there was a phrase I'd use to describe their relationship after this point, well, the first one would be trauma-bond, but the second would be casual ride-or-die. Like, "This guys pretty cool, I guess you could call us acquaintances, I can tolerate him I suppose - touch him and I'll tear you apart limb from limb :)"

Also, just to clarify, neither of them are "better" bc of this. Angel still put on his heavy front, and Alastor still spends most days feeling like a ticking time bomb. But it's a first step that will lead to better things eventually. Hopefully.

[howtobecomeadragon]

here's what mlvn's say about their ship and what they want from s5 when they're not feeling defensive about byler:

(these are from a reddit post posted about a month ago with no byler interactions, and these are many of the same people claiming that mlvn is perfect, there are no big issues, etc when byler is brought up as an alternative ship. all of these comments have upvotes and no arguing. they were all on the same page with no defensiveness about the perceived shortcomings of the relationship and wishing for better for mlvn in s5.)

many acknowledgments that the ship has been sidelined

acknowledgment that El does NOT compliment Mike. acknowledgment that Mike's self esteem is tied to El, although there is no awareness that this not a good thing. they want to see El supporting Mike in some way, which means they know we're currently missing this. they want to see just 20+ seconds of Mike and El enjoying each other's company. "more than 20 seconds" bc the show does this with other couples but they're still waiting to see that with mlvn. 🤨🤨 "it's only fair." ooookay, and who always says shit about fan service?

acknowledgment that mlvn as a couple has sucked for the last two seasons, for half the show, for the entire time that they've officially been a couple. always going back to the romantic moment of "El fell into his arms in the sauna test" which was not a scripted moment, MBB literally collapsed and Finn caught her. always going back to El being protective, i.e. making sure he doesn't die, which she does for everyone in these scenes.

this was a really interesting one bc I think a lot of bylers think that mlvns want to see improvement from Mike’s behavior in the relationship, but most were more focused on El needing to do more.

"she hasn't demonstrated concern and empathy so much for Mike in the last two seasons" 🤨 then why do you ship it 🤔

"I don't doubt how much El adores and care for Mike but she needs to show it better/more" 🤔🤔 ohhhhh okay, so you have decided that El adores Mike and are frustrated that this isn't reflected well in El's behavior since they've been a couple. you made up your mind probably in 2016 and are frustrated by the lack of follow-up and progression in their relationship since 2017. gotcha. 😇😇

mlvn's blame the writing for El appearing to have inconsistent motivations and characterization bc she isn't a perfect girlfriend to Mike that doesn't act like she's head over heels. hmmm. 🤔

someone seems to be about halfway there in realizing that maybe with her lack of a good foundation of socialization when she entered into a romantic relationship, she doesn't have the standard emotional growth, but not quite extending that as far as "maybe she should grow a little on her own first." reminder that when a byler says something like this, they're accused of ableism and "disregarding what El wants"

acknowledgment that we have not gotten to see mlvn functioning as a couple and that we don't know HOW they function. we don't know their bf/gf dynamics. after 4 seasons. mlvns are often stating to bylers that their endgame ship is already set, all that's left is a happy ending, but in reality they are still hoping to see how their ship functions as a couple, to see one half of the ship compliment the other half. they don't doubt that they are endgame, but they're crossing their fingers for just bare minimum coupley interactions, while all the other established couples get those. I wonder why 🤨🤨

acknowledgment that the duffers haven't been interested in portraying mlvn as a perfect couple: "flakey history"

claims that El was more mature in s1 than s3 and s4. WILD coming from mlvns that call bylers sexist. "more mature" bc she seemed to like Mike more. El not acting like a perfect girlfriend to Mike is bad writing and a total mess apparently. totallllly not purposeful at all, nope 🙄

more acknowledgment that El hasn't been a great girlfriend to Mike. some overlapping reasons with bylers (she's not complimenting Mike, she never apologizes), some not (the root of this is bc she takes on too much responsibility for everyone's safety...?).

acknowledgment that the way mlvn is functioning now is NOT a 2 way functioning relationship and that El is NOT meeting Mike's emotional needs. no acknowledgment of who does meet Mike's emotional need, though. 😏

acknowledgment that their relationship thus far has been bogged down with "unnecessary" arguments and drama

acknowledgment that they don't really discuss their feelings now and there is air that still needs to be cleared

acknowledgment that the writing is good otherwise in the show but for soooome reason it lacks when it specifically focuses on mlvn's relationship. 🤨🤨 again, still hoping for those scraps of "how do these two even play off each other" in the final season and the third season of mlvn together as an official couple.

all of this to say really: the super aggressive mlvns on reddit, for the most part, know that they're exaggerating the idyllic nature of mlvn's relationship when they're arguing against bylers. they thought mlvn was really cute in s1 and s2 and have been waiting 6 years since 2017 for their relationship to be cute again, and they're frustrated and just wanting the bare minimum in s5.

they're still waiting for the basics about "cute moments that last more than 20 seconds," they're still waiting to see how they function as a couple despite them dating for 2 seasons now. they're still waiting for El to act like a good girlfriend and not just a "superhero."

[horizon-verizon]

It’s hilarious to me that Aemond kicked Alicent out of the council and literally told her to go back to the kitchen right after that tiktok went viral that called Aemond of all people a feminist.

Compare with Jace saying in the same episode, “my ruler is my mother, and I do not wish it otherwise”.

Jace is EVERYTHING Alicent wished Aegon and Aemond was. A better son, a better politician, would’ve been a better husband to Helaena, a young man who has no problem leading the war council with his wife-to-be and defending her against Ser Alfred. I love that HOTD is completely destroying the whole “momma’s boy/mommy’s favorite war criminal” delusion that Aemond’s stans created.

“Aemond’s the most interesting one on this show” and he’s just every reactionary mass shooter using “bullying” in high school as an excuse for their atrocities (when, in reality, they were just nihilistic psychopaths). Nothing about Aemond is unique or disruptive. Misogyny is painfully boring actually, it’s been around for centuries. People just can’t accept interesting morally sound characters when they see one.

I wonder how that person who made that Jace would not be a feminist (as if any of the green boys in the show would?!) is feeling right about now? They'd probably say that Aemond kicking Alicent out is not sexist but he was just mad at her. Sure Fabian 2.0 🙄.

Now, Aemond does provide some funny moments here and there since "he undermined" Aegon with high Valyrian, but for me the stand out is more Aegon on the green side. I did like Aemond asserting against Jason Lannister's demands, that is very book!Aemond. It's like these two green boys are taking turns being their book selves, which is ironic bc people will claim that they are more interesting that their bk counterparts...baby, that's bc they are finally realized as what their bk counterparts would do!

Also, the greens have such stark and seemingly unique characters because the writes simply didn't develop the blacks very well for balance. They are all more or less pretty static, their motivations regressed or having stayed the same since S1.

So we perhaps need to separate "interesting"/"unique" and "solid characterization" from "morally bankrupt". Both tb and tg. TG tends to either explain how the greens are actually morally neutral or good or justified in some actions AND tries to make as if being "good" automatically boring, but TB seems to sometimes forget that we don't need characters to be morally neutral/ambiguous or good for them to be "interesting"--ironic bc Daemon is morally ambiguous leaning bad but is very interesting to many in TB and to locals...pre-Harrenhal arc. People can say Aemond & Aegon are interesting in the show, bc they do present more to think over...while Rhaenyra's writing is repetitive and verging on pathetic and nonsensical, esp when she slaps the Celtigar instead of Alfred Broome and keeps talking about how helpless she feels even after that. Jace, despite his deeds at the Frey's and the Wall, was also stripped of his Manderly and Jeyne Arryn stories. even with Cregan, they aren't friends and there is no Pact of Ice and Fire. We didn't even get Cregan's backstory in appropriate flashbacks that would have lended Rhaenyra/Jace's support base with a certain confidence in devotion and character! Baela somehow doesn't burn the greens she comes into close contact with...It's all just too underwhelming for the sake of "neutraility". And I don't have to say anything for Daemon, that I already talked about.

Example of "good & interesting": Dany is unequivocally a good person & a good ethical actor with good ethical motivations, but she's anything but boring.

@all-about-the-tea-parties brings up other nonvillains with nuanced and "fascinating" arcs down in the comments below!

[whump-town]

Scared pt.1

Trust that if I can write nothing... I can always write more about what comes post-foyet's attack. Is this very in character? no. but if you wanted that you'd go elsewhere. Instead, I offer:

Hotch doesn't just go down and when he does... it's terrifying for all involved, and the terror isn't through yet.

here's about 4k of 11k words I have (P.S. the other part has a bit of Reid and JJ but if you want Garcia you're going to have to beg and plead bc I can't write Garcia)

it's also on Ao3!

--

Hotch is sleeping that deep, medicated sleep when Emily sees him and it unnerves her. A full twenty-four hours has not passed since the time she saw him last and he looks damn near like a stranger. John Doe, she vouches, is Aaron Hotchner but as she looks at their John Doe and thinks abouts the Hotch she’d seen just a little while ago on the jet… it feels impossible. He sleeps so utterly still, like a corpse surrounded by medical equipment. Pale and still in a completely unnerving way. 

Claiming to know the weak, incapacitated man means immediate paperwork. Suddenly, there’s a doctor standing in between Emily and her view of Hotch. It’s quite scary now to not have him in her sights, as if he will disappear again. The doctor is talking about the first surgery — there’s a tube and drains — the strain it placed on Hotch’s heart. Emily looks straight at Hotch, hearing but unwilling to feel anything as the doctor tells her that Hotch’s heart is weak. Weak? Emily shakes her head and the doctor keeps talking. They are watching him closely, the next twenty-four hours are critical. Emily’s still caught up on Hotch’s weak heart. 

Maybe this man isn’t Hotch at all. 

Emily never considered anything about Hotch weak. His problem is that he is too strong. He can physically endure the storm, the only living, standing thing for miles and so that makes him think that he has to. Because he can do it by himself, he must. It makes him selfish, guarded, and lonely. It does not make him unfeeling. He’s always there with his hands balled into fists, his eyes wet with tears he won’t let fall. His voice betrays him, breathy from strain. He feels, there’s no denying it, but Hotch will try. His body will fail him long before his heart. 

Some of the doctor’s previous words come back to Emily as she approaches Hotch’s room. From here she can see the tubes running underneath the thin blanket across his chest. Iodine stains his skin in swipes, thick gauze visible beneath his gown. His face is utterly expressionless and Emily’s throat feels tight, her eyes darting to the floor. 

Weak, huh... Emily pulls a chair up beside him. She glances again at his face which is so pale, her eyes dart to his hand, he probably feels as cold as he looks stiff. 

Emily pulls in a slow breath, forcing herself to shake off this unsteady feeling. It’s more than fair; it’s definitely someone else’s turn to be strong for a while. He’s done a good job and held the burden long enough. Restlessly, Emily picks at her fingers. Her hand comes to her teeth, peeling away stubborn bits of her skin until her middle finger is bleeding and her pointer finger stings. On the bed, Hotch's finger twitches. Everytime Emily looks up at it and then at his face, waiting for an expression to cross his blank features, and everytime nothing. 

A nurse steps in preparing his next round of medications and Emily stands silently and leaves the room. 

To her annoyance, it is the moment she is not there to see his finger twitch that Hotch’s eyes manage to crack open. There’s an intense pressure over the right half of his chest and some machine in the distance sputters out a shrill alarm that irritates the tinnitus in his bad ear. He tries to turn his head, get away from the noise, but the canal under his nose is pinched to his cheek and the plastic hurts. The sound is making his ear hurt and finding his arms immobile, Hotch lets out a panicked grunt. He moves his head uselessly on the bed, a deranged, raw panic overtaking him.

“Hotch.”

Emily Prentiss. His eyes lock onto her, a single raft in the middle of the ocean. A familiar face. He flinches from the doctor, pulling in another ragged, scared breath from his straw-like throat, but Prentiss is standing right by the bed. She is comforting enough for that part in the back of his brain alight with terror, seeking to flee, to ease. She is easy to focus on hovering so close, he feels safer with her here. Scary and strong, she’ll protect him. He’s distracted enough that the doctor is able to slip her cold stethoscope under his gown. She instructs him to breathe, deep breath, but Hotch’s eyes are on Prentiss. It feels like days since he’s seen someone familiar, though he hasn’t a clue how long has passed since right now and… whatever came before. 

The doctor speaks to Prentiss and she stands there at the end of the bed, eyes locked with Hotch, while the doctor’s words go in one ear and out the other. One of the machines begins to make a new sound, liquid being moved and another dose of medications snaking through the tubes into the I.V. taped to the back of Hotch’s hand. His head tilts on the pillow, eyes struggling to stay open. She watches his fingers twitch and he moves his head uselessly fighting sleep. 

The doctor leaves and Emily hesitantly, watching Hotch watch her, takes her seat back at his side. “You need to rest,” she repeats the doctor’s sentiments. 

Hotch has no verbal response, just a terribly slow blink. 

Not bold enough to take his hand, Emily places her hand at the end of his, their fingers grazing. “The other’s will be here soon, rest.”

His finger twitches against hers and he exhales slowly, lips hardly moving and distorting the words he mumbles incoherently. He’s asleep in an instant, pulled back under. For a moment, the creases of pain remain claw-footed in the corners of his eyes, down the sharp lines between his eyebrows. All that time before spent wishing for something from him is all gone, Emily can’t tear her eyes away from the lines. 

He pulls in a deep breath and they ease away. 

The sounds of the room are never ending. Lights blink back feedback that Emily can’t understand, things hiss and churn and move. Emily has nothing to do but think. Should she be grateful it’s not worse? But how much worse can it really get? Hotch isn’t dead… yet. That’s worse but that might just be next. Doesn't make much sense to be grateful for what hasn’t happened when it might merely be hours away. She can be angry but she can’t do anything. She can cry but she doesn’t even feel like doing that. So she sits. Thinks. 

Emily flinches when her phone vibrates in her pocket and she rises quickly as her adrenaline does, moving from the room to the hall in anxious anticipation for the team to arrive. Still, Hotch remains in her sight. Happy to let someone else take charge, Emily stands on the edge of the group as the other’s step into Hotch’s room. They haven’t had the opportunity to see him yet but Hotch’s eyes open to slivers and Emily can feel their hazy focus gather on her. She’s quick to move, eager to make use of the words like whispers leaving his dry lips. Until she’s holding his bloody clothing, clothes she’d just seen him in, dried stiff. 

The other’s leave to get Haley and Emily watches them from the end of Hotch’s bed. 

“Prentiss.”

“Hmm?” Emily turns slowly back to face Hotch, not sure she can manage to keep her own expression level. Not when looking at him like this makes her stomach hurt. 

“You were at my apartment? Could you tell how he got in?” 

Emily slowly shakes her head, “I couldn’t.” 

Hotch nods solemnly, as he stares up at the ceiling. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

He clears his throat, eyes lowering to find her, “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time it all goes blank.” 

Liar. She’s not certain what he does remember but he’s lying about it. He remembers something well enough to wake him in a panic, instantly obtaining attention from a nurse or doctor. She hasn’t seen it but she’s not stupid, Emily’s aware of what’s happening. And he’s looking at her now, fully expecting her to let it go, knowing she won’t call his bluff. 

“If you do,” Emily offers, with a shrug. 

Hotch cracks the driest, faintest smile. Graciously, he’s been given a momentary pass and it makes Emily smile too. If there’s anyone anymore who might poke and prod the information from him it is probably her. And it scares him at the same time it relieves him. Because Emily isn’t just saying it, this won’t leave her mind until it leaves his. She’s judgemental as hell but she understands, maybe more than he wants her to. 

The energy is off but Emily tries to find comfort in silence. It’s usually easier, anyone who spends time with Hotch has to be used to a little silence. He’s not much of a talker himself, unless inhibited by alcohol or anytime he hasn’t got to be in slacks. Or… a hospital gown. Hotch has got to be comfortable and he’s clearly not. It’s easy to be comfortable in silence because when Hotch is comfortable it just feels comfortable. Safe. Easy. Hotch feels like none of those things right now and Emily can’t either. 

He’s stripped down to his raw skin, no armor in sight, just a weak man, tired and confused by the countless medications fighting his body to live and manage his pain. 

It feels wrong to even look at him like this. Emily’s seen him in jeans, Aaron with hair astray from the toddler sitting on his shoulders gripping it for dear life. She’s seen him drink himself a little silly, criss-crossing his long legs while he walks like a crane in deep water without any of the grace. But that was a choice. He’d cried, smiled, and been exhausted before but everytime that was a choice. Even knowing him without the armor, it feels wrong to see him without when she knows he wants it. 

 If there weren’t medications muddling his blood and keeping his heart calm, it would certainly ache more than it does now. Without full access to feeling, Hotch can’t even find it within himself to be embarrassed. Later, it will come later. 

She watches him try and turn his head, uncomfortable in a way neither of them can identify. “Do you–” Emily moves anxiously, “do you want to sit up?” 

“Please,” he whispers, turning his head back to her.

When the bed moves he flinches and the combined motions make him stiffen and suck in a breath that he holds. Emily stops the bed but he shakes his head and silently he’s thankful she understands and the bed keeps rising until he’s sitting up. 

Boredom was better than what comes next. Emily looks everywhere but at Haley as she comes down the hall, Derek directing her into the room. Jack goes to Dave who distracts him quickly and effortlessly. Emily looks at the floor, counting linoleum tile to keep her distracted. Otherwise, all she’s got to think about is her possibly dying friend and the ex-wife and child he’s sending to witness protection. 

Haley leaves with Jack on her hip and Emily stands, hands anxiously twisting together. She feels panic for Hotch, watching them leave. Her heart pounds in her chest, fear makes her hands shake at her sides, as she watches them leave wondering if they will ever come back. 

Valiantly, uselessly, Hotch tries to fight off his fear. He jerks himself awake every few hours, sucking in tight breathes and eyes darting around. Foyet’s name isn’t far from his lips and Hotch sits vigilantly unconvinced that Foyet isn’t the door’s shadow across the wall or the stuffed bear in the windowsill. Nothing can be done to soothe his irrational fear. Dave tells him that he’s safe, and holds his hand. Derek sits by the door, facing whatever comes in. Emily is hiding in a shadow, the only comfort he can truly find. This feels safe, having her hiding in the same domain as Foyet. Let the man show his face, he’ll find someone much scarier waiting for him.

Hotch is in no position to make decisions for himself. However tired but lucid he was worsens as Haley and Jack leave. Fat tears roll down the sides of his face, his words are breathy, weak. He’s scared and lonely, a little clingy. 

“Em’ly?”

She sees the pulse ox out of the corner of her eye, doesn’t hear him call her, and she moves to his side close to the hand he’s moving around vaguely. “We’re just going down the hall,” she tells him because she’s already explained twice that he’s going to surgery. His surgical team has already been down, they’ve told him this. But he’s confused and agitated and terrified, so Emily is given permission to come as far as she can. That means sitting in the hall, waiting to move Hotch once he’s asleep, less likely to be alarmed by the changes in his environment. “Rest,” she says, placing her hand over his. 

He’s asleep by the time they are ready and his eyelashes bat as he’s put under. Emily grabs his hand when he moans, turning his head fitfully, and with an exhale he relaxes again. 

His sleep is black, soundless, and then he is in that car, the smell of cheap cologne burning his nose. Foyet’s singing along to the radio, drumming his hands on the wheel and singing off-key to Guns N’ Roses. Bloody, wet hands come from the darkness, blurry eyes peer over surgical masks saying words to him in morphed muttered languages. Fingers take hold of him, arms lift his limp body and his eyes are rolling back into his head. He’s conscious and not, he feels dead. Floating. A thumb presses on his jaw and a feral part of his brain clamps his teeth together. His mouth is pried open and his breath restored, cold solid oxygen sitting in his balloon lungs. He’s limp, his oxygen deprived body greedily taking what it’s given. Hotch is taken right back to the car, ends up swarmed and overtaken by the hands. The dream is fitful and never ending. 

Dave goes with the doctor, the first to take in the news. Hotch’s heart stopped again and he’s still intubated to try and alleviate the strain on his heart. Watching Hotch’s chest move with breaths a machine takes brings tears to Dave’s eyes. It’s hard to not believe something right in front of you but Dave does it. Hotch had never been that youthful, bright-eyed rookie. He’d come hardened and strong, too strong for his own good. Dave had thought it would get him killed but it seemed that never knowing when to back out of a fight has been the only thing keeping Hotch alive. That’s all Dave has now, hope in the man who has never figured out how to back down. The ICU has different rules and no sooner than Dave’s ten minutes is up, before he can even get off the floor, his phone is ringing. There’s a case in Oregon. 

Hotch is by himself when he wakes twenty-five hours later. Medicated cocktail weighing him down, he was only vaguely present through the veil. He can’t be certain he’s actually awake, that he’s not just swept up in another dream. He gags weakly around the tube in his throat. Tears roll down the corners of his eyes and he fights perilously against the doctors. He shifts in and out of consciousness, medicated calm keeping him from fighting the machines helping him, and his drug-addled brain conjures visitors from the shadows of the room. 

Dave is there six hours later when the doctor removes the tube, in the corner of the room while Hotch coughs, gagging and stiffening in pain. He cries for Haley with a voice and throat too raw to make more than rasps. But fat tears leave his eyes, his lips form her name soundlessly, persistently until his eyes are rolling back into his head before his eyes have fully closed. 

In his sleep, Hotch cries. He makes small, hurt sounds and whimpers, recoils from fears only he can see.  

“What’s wrong man?”

Hotch’s blurry vision slowly settles on Morgan, “mm?”

“Something bothering you?” Morgan frowns when Hotch moves his head again. Hotch’s clarity is sharpest in the hour before his next dose of pain medication, when the pain is the clearest. It’s been only twenty minutes since the most recent dose, Morgan had watched Hotch go from restlessly sedated in his slumber to limp, melted into cot below him. Steadily for the last five minutes Hotch has been making little agitated noises in sleep, now his eyes are open and he’s moving uncomfortably. 

Morgan is ready to give up when Hotch turns to him, and he steps closer, ready to be beckoned any which way at just a rasp from Hotch.

“Hurts…” he mouths.

“Do you want to sit up?” Morgan asks. He hates not being able to help. He hates sitting here not able to do a damn thing. “I can sit the bed up.”

Hotch nods. He turns his head away, pulling harsh breathes audibly, lips twitching with pain he’s barely hiding. “Wanna go home,” he grunts, panting. “Please,” he whines, turning and hitting Morgan with the full force of gut-wrenchingly teary, pathetic eyes. 

Morgan’s done this job before, sitting by Hotch’s beside, but typically Haley is near. He just covers for a short while, waiting for her to come back and soothe Hotch back to himself. Morgan had tried but he had learned long ago he needed to stick keeping Hotch occupied with games or being the muscle needed to assist. “I can’t,” Morgan strains out. “I would,” he lies, because right now he just might, but as quickly as he’d do anything to make the tears stop, the idea of Hotch being home scares him far more right now. 

Hotch sucks in a sob, turning his head in shame to hide, even if Morgan can see his lips pulled up and more tears squeezing out of his shut eyes. 

“We can go outside,” Morgan offers, though he’s not certain. But the idea gets Hotch’s attention and Morgan will bat his eyelashes and flirt with however many nurses or doctors, man or woman, it takes to make it possible. “I’ll be right back,” he whispers, squeezing Hotch’s arm. 

It takes minimal eyelash batting to get a wheelchair. The nurse out in the hall is happy to see that Hotch’s visitors have returned and she’s willing to see a whim out. He does better with visitors. She had attributed most of his restlessness and somberness to being more alert, perhaps just more himself. But she can see a difference. Hotch watches her with sad but hopeful eyes as she moves medical equipment out of their way, she can tell that he is more himself with his friends nearby. 

It is not that the roles usually go Morgan in the wheelchair and Hotch pushing but it does feel like roles have been swapped. It makes more sense for Hotch to be the assistance not the assisted, it’s difficult for Morgan to make peace with. But this is what it is. 

“The grass.”

Morgan obeys, turning the wheelchair off the path and into the grass. He stops it just a few feet from a bench, pushing the brakes down. “You up for a walk?” he asks, stepping around the side and watching Hotch gingerly lift and lay his feet in the grass. “Where are your socks?” He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it earlier but now fire burns in chest at the sight, heating up his face. All Hotch does is shiver, every moment of all day. He comes in and out of pain but constantly he’s cold. 

Hotch ignores him, moving his hands to prepare to stand like he’s capable of summoning enough stubbornness to get himself out. 

Morgan offers support silently. Again, he’s familiar with this. He knows good and well the only way Hotch will take his shoulder to lean on is if they are silent. Morgan has had to catch Hotch from falling, he knows that if he says anything Hotch will simply push him away and choose to fall. 

Bare feet on the cold ground eases something in Hotch more nagging and persistent than the pain. He’d grown up running around without shoes, tracking his muddy footprints on his mother’s scrubbed hardwood. As painful as it is to stand, Hotch bares through it because it feels amazing. He’s not ready to give it up.

“I forget you’re a good ol’ boy,” Morgan chuckles and immediately his eyes dart to Hotch, not certain his comment won’t end in Hotch laying in the grass. He receives a warning, narrowed eyes. But in all fairness, Morgan grew up in the city. He wasn’t walking anywhere barefoot, he still wouldn’t. “You can’t go anywhere without shoes in Chicago,” he says and Hotch allows the slight distraction as he drags himself through walking. “Nails and needles and–” the list goes on and Morgan shakes his head thinking about it. “I don’t understand the appeal. Sticks, bugs, and what’re those plants called with the needles? I’ve seen ‘em in the grass, man, why would you chance stepping on one of those?”

Hotch’s response is a puff, he clearly has an opinion but he can only focus on one thing at a time. 

They say nothing on the bench. Morgan watches the breeze move the tree leaves, pleasantly warmed by Hotch proximity.

Leaning into Morgan, too weak to even hold himself upright, Hotch finds himself unable to escape his curiosity. “Why are you here?” The breeze nearly sweeps up his question and for a moment he thinks Morgan hasn’t heard him. Morgan moves his arm around Hotch’s shoulder, carefully pulling his blanket tighter and only then does Hotch realize he’s shivering. 

“You hate hospitals,” Morgan says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. It is the truth so maybe it is. “You’ve never left me alone in a hospital,” he says to the foliage and then he turns, looking at Hotch. “You’ve never left any of us.” Maybe he hasn’t personally been there but everytime Hotch has been in the field, doing the hard work, so that they can have visitors when they’re hurt or sick. Everytime, always. And when the job is done, when things are truly safe again, Hotch will show up. It’s never been more apparent than now. 

“It’s late,” Hotch says stupidly and Morgan laughs and looks at him with this sad look that even mind-boggled Hotch knows means Morgan is keeping silent for his sake. That he could say something that would be emotional and very telling about Hotch in a way that he most definitely doesn’t want to hear. Certainly not right now. 

The truth is easy, Hotch asked. Not recently but years ago now, when the only people who showed up at the hospital were Morgan and Haley. His ghosts were different then but Morgan didn’t need to know their names, he just wanted to help. The request had come from Haley and Morgan has been with Hotch every night he’s spent in the hospital that Morgan has known of. He’d sit in the doorway of every hospital room until one or both of them dies, everytime. Nothing would change that. 

“Thank you,” Hotch says, loudly, clear.

Morgan scoffs. It’s the first he’s heard Hotch sound like himself, voice and all. He reaches for Hotch’s cold hand, hospital bracelets scratching his skin, “always, man.” 

When they return to the room, Hotch sleeps for the first time unbothered. Morgan sits by the door anyway.

[de4dlyniightshade]

I stumbled upon your blog because of those JJ-Reid posts, and lol, finally, someone said it. I don't know where you stand on this, but I genuinely don't understand people who hype JJ and Derek's relationship with Spencer. I might be wrong, but both of them are the worst to him, in my opinion. Sure, they have their 'good' moments, but the amount of condescending and demeaning commentary they give to Reid is crazy. And no, Spencer isn't my favorite character, but even then, what JJ and Morgan did to Reid always made me uncomfortable. I think the only two who really care and listen to Reid are Blake and Emily. In my personal opinion, Reid x Emily relationship (platonic OFC) is really underrated.

worst to spencer goes jj first ofc and then derek idc.

the thing with the nightmares, telling gideon and forcing him to talk about it just rubbed me the wrong way. i can't remember exactly but there's another point where derek gets really personal about something and is such a dick to spencer for no reason.

i haven't finished the show yet(i got to s11 and then restarted it with my meemaw:3)so idk if penelope ends up being mean to spencer but so far her and emily are the only ones who take accountability for how they treat others, they don't just use their emotions as a fallback for being a bad friend like everyone else, emily was genuinely sorry for not being able to tell spencer and genuinely had a sit down talk with him about it and penelope saved his life, did one thing she never wanted to do, killed a man for him because he's her friend and she loves him.

completely agree that the best friendship in cm is emily and spencer all the fucking way. the way she was desperately looking for him in that one episode with the church cult UGH and the hug? that. ladies and gentleman. is how you love a man. she loves him. jj does not. she loves the idea of him. a real gentleman who can treat a woman right, but oh how dare he come with baggage.

i love blake and spencer's relationship too, the way he kinda immediately attaches himself too her bcs of her motherly nature is really sweet and i like that it's unspoken that he sees her as a motherly figure and she sees him as a sort of son.

hotch i can forgive for being a little mean to spencer because he was never too mean and he never claimed to love him or be his best friend or brother or any of that, although hotch does love him he doesn't broadcast it for brownie point like the others and the times he was mean he was really stressed and took it out on more than just spencer, unlike the others who pick the pushover who won't yap back and bitch at him when they're mad.

don't even get me started on elle. they were endgame.

[heartshapedbubble]

HIHI!! Dunno whether the birthday reqs are full but would it be too much trouble to ask for hcs of Edgar & Andrew having a crush on the reader (basically they're both crushing on the reader at the same time)?? I'm not sure whether this counts as jealous 'n stuff but I'm really sorry if it does & you can ignore this request !! 👍👍

HII SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT!! i think this passes juuust underneath the line for jealous stuff so i'm up for it :]

putting a cw just in case bc andrew wants edgars ass DEAD lmao

edgar valden and andrew kreiss having a crush on the reader at the same time hcs🎨🕸

edgar valden🎨

jealousy is not something new to edgar, in fact, he knows it very well - his crush on you was heavily toned down and controlled, him making sure you don't notice him blushing or seeking physical touch, but his jealousy is going to throw him off his rocker and cause him to be very obvious and clingy

edgar generally likes to be a bit snobbish/braggy about his paintings and skills, but when he realizes you might get with andrew instead despite his talent he's going to become very worried. his jealousy unveals his number one weakness - someone being better than him. he was always number one in both his parents' and his mentor's eyes, being their precious little wunderkind that could provide them with a masterpiece with the flick of his wrist, and now all his talent is in vain because of someone who can't even compete with him? bullshit!

he doesn't show jealousy and doesn't like to admit it, but he'll often be passive agressive and make snarky remarks here and there. the most that it will come to (after days and days of edgar questioning both himself and you) is him directly asking you what exactly do you see in the anxious, clumsy gravekeeper

to combat this and try to win you over, edgar is going to be asking you out more frequently, even better if it's right in front of andrew, secretly scribbling sketches of you when you aren't looking, asking you to pose for his paintings, even giving them out to you for free - you'd be asking yourself if this is the same edgar you knew before.

although edgar does become immature and needy during this period of time, at the end he'll have to accept the truth if the case was you picked andrew over him. but if you chose him - oh man, where could he even begin? he'll make sure he gives you the best treatment he could provide to anyone ever

andrew kreiss🕸

andrew is such a horrendously bad liar that it's laughable. his crush on you can't even be considered a rumor spread around during the manor tea parties - it's something that the entire oletus manor claims as a fact. it even reached the hunters' side, which occassionally asks him the infamous question during the games to make him lose his balance and become a sweaty, blushing mess

when he finds out he's not the only one admiring you romantically, it awakes a flurry of mixed feelings inside of him. at first, he's hopeless, he's already dealt with collective social rejection and shame that it can't even phase him that much. but at the same time... you're not like them, are you? you treat him with such kindness and care, you couldn't possibly do that.. oh, but look at edgar! everyone admires his art, he's truly a virtuoso in the making! how could he compete against him? it's best for him to give up immediately..

oh, but wait. he could always yank him away during a match, hide his trusty shovel behind his back and....

yes, i'm being serious. andrew would 100% contemplate killing edgar. not being accustomed to any kind of social cues, it's simply the most logical solution for him - you just eliminate the obstacle. it's as easy as that. yet, is this what you'd truly desire? would he kill for you? in a moment of desperation the answer is yes, i would kill for them, but once he realizes what he's doing he's going to stop immediately, shocked by his own train of thought. he's definetly horrified of losing you, but his anxiety will make his fear sky rocket and come to such drastic conclusions.

to appeal to you he's going to become a bit more keen on initiating affection, and you might notice that the bouquets he makes for you became bigger and started arriving to your front door more frequently... he's just doing any little thing in his power, already knowing he's no match for the manor's quick-witted painter

if you choose edgar over him, he'll just take a deep breath and move on. it might be a burden to him for some time, but hey, it's not like he hasn't dealt with similar situations before. yet, if it's him you desire... he'll cling onto you for eternity, showering you with all the love he could ever give to somebody

[austinsdemise]

✩ᴇɴᴍᴜ✩

I made this while sleep deprived and gossiping with my bestie 🤭 sorry if it’s shit, it’s what me and my Pookie made up for him

Head-cannons:

bbg is THICK OMFG

There is no sfw option for this guy, he's horny 24/7.

Though I don't believe he's a virgin, he sure does act like one. He's so sensitive, even after y'all have done it multiple times, he still wants more.

Down right a sex freak with how many times he wants to do it a day. And when you guys do do the deed, he's up for 7-8 rounds. At least 6 times a week.

  he that he has a pear shaped body, seeing as he's thick in the hips. And yes I do have the figurine to back up this claim.

His nipples are VERY sensitive. Please play with them, he doesn't like doing it himself if he has you there with him. Tug, pull, lick, bite, he does not care. He can get off just by you playing with them.

Enmu is submissive, bc no way in hell is this man is able to dom anyone. Arching his back like that for Muzan? Well he does it even harder for his darling, minus the clothes.

Tie him up? Go ahead. The feeling of being at his partners mercy just makes his dick throb in anticipation. Because he knows he can rip straight through the man made rope but chooses to humor his dear.

Seeing how he is already a very feminine guy, he won't hesitate to dress up for you. His plush thighs look amazing in stockings and fishnets. Garter belts are Enmu's favorite accessory. The tightness of the leather squeezing his upper thigh while you give him head? Amazing. But if you're pegging/fucking him from behind while pulling him back by his garter belts, prepare for this little shit to be whining and whimpering your name all night. 

Okay so maybe he has dominated his darling once or twice. Y'all know how his "true" form is a tentacle train monster? so he may or may not of fucked his love in that form. Every single one of darlings holes were filled, cum basically everywhere. It was a whole mess but it left the two of you satisfied, exhausted, but satisfied. Did Muzan find you two in that situation? Yes. Was it embarrassing? Yes.

Enmu is obviously loyal. But he is no where near as loyal to his partner as he is to Muzan. Yes he still loves you, but his obsession with the demon king runs deep. If you guys don't like that he, let's just say he has had so many thoughts that included his love and Muzan dominating him at the same time.

If his darling is male, cock warming is the way to go. He's hopping on your dick at any moment of the day just to feel it inside him. Honestly, this man fucks like a rabbit, wanting to either breed or be bred all the time.

Only thing I can think of that Enmu would love more about his lover, was if they were part of the upper moons. So merry at the fact he was able to catch the attention of a stronger individual. Which means he can be held in stronger arms<3

Let's say you're an upper moon. Enmu is so down bad the first time he meets you. Doing exactly what he did for Muzan in that one scene. Y'all know what I'm talking about, the one where he arches his back. Anyways he does that, and it doesn't phase you. So now he's bent over at your feet, kissing the tops of them.(y'all are not bare footed like the blueberry toed baker)

If you decide to give him a chance, and you're anatomically male, he's currently being bent over a table and fucked into it. Begging for more as his ass gets slapped and pounded into. Not getting a break because he was begging in his knees for it, so he shall receive.

If you're anatomically AFAB, he's laying on his back, being suffocated by the dripping pussy sitting on his face. Wet slurping noises being a prominent sound throughout the infinity castle as he passionately eats his darling out.

Find a way to fuck him good and hard in the ass and he's mewling for more. Drool seeping down his chin and sharp nails digging into anything they can. And yes, he does draw blood.

He's pretty okay with aftermath, doing the bare basics of giving his darling a wash cloth and getting them water.

But like the pillow princess he is, he likes to be taken care of like always. Snuggling into his partners chest right after, the warmth fueling his cold and technically dead form :D

Kinks: Bondage, Feminization, Pegging, Choking, Dacryphilia, S&M, Overstimulation, Being Bred/Breeding Literally name any kink and he’s on his knees in front of you begging to try it.