#maybe there's someone out there who is still like this and they definitely are going to freak out with your art

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

This this this

I grew up homeschooled in a family where my parents basically had us fend for ourselves, while also discouraging us from doing any sort of activity or maintain friendships, so the vast majority of my life was spent feeling cut off and inadequate compared to my peers

Shockingly, I ended up having severe depression, (as did my siblings) and developed extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits as a young teenager, as well as other mental issues.

When I finally was able to start the process of getting help(which truly didn't start until the last few years, despite me being in therapy a decade) and started to do things outside of my usual habits, such as going to school and also getting a job(despite my parents trying to discourage me on my bad days), I was now an adult and felt like there was so much I missed out on, especially when looking at my friends experiences at the same ages.

It's so easy to dwell on those thoughts and revert back to old habits, and even harder to try and work through them(like pushing myself to get out of bed, or go to a function with friends). So many people I know who don't have depression just assume it's a little bit of laziness and sadness, and act like everything would be fixed if I just listened only to happy music and refused antidepressants because my generation is 'overmedicated'. And while we definitely are over medicated, without those medicines, so many people (myself included) wouldn't be here.

While my depression is better, and thankfully I've been pretty good with catching up on lost time academic wise, I still struggle with depression and the fallout from everything that has contributed to it. I hang out with friends but almost always end up feeling drained or depressed afterwards, even though I'm around people I care about and like, and I know they feel the same, there is always that voice in my head that one day they're going to change their minds and realize I'm not worth it or that maybe they don't actually like me.

Depression takes a huge toll on my body, I am always tired and overwhelmed, and when I am around friends and peers I feel like I'm an imposter just hoping no one catches on and questions the fact I try to mimic others behavior in hopes I blend in better (even if it's something I know to do, I suddenly feel awkward and panicked and act like I've never dealt with it before, thus watching others and trying to copy movements/actions, even if it's something I'm very knowledgeable about/good at)

I am drained because I feel I have to put on a front that everything is fine, and I feel bubbly and happy all the time, because otherwise people think I'm ungrateful/slighting them, or there out of pity(my sister is someone who thinks all of those reasons unless I'm all happy on the outside). Even though so many times, I was looking forward to doing something or spending time with someone, but for no reason I can think of, I get struck by depression when the time comes, but I still want to take part, because I worry I'll regret missing out, so I go and spend the time trying to act how people want me to, which is exhausting.

It's taken years to get used to these bad days, and I am working to let myself have a breather or just listening to what my body needs when it happens, (I've been better lately and I'm proud of that, but I still struggle occasionally). It's taken years to learn to stop comparing my life with what my younger cousin or old friend is doing/has done by my age, (or if they've done even more), slightly less to learn to ignore the timeframe society(and family) deems is 'normal', and since then, my quality of life has been better.

All this to say, depression has ruled my life and I deal with that everyday, and it is hard to ignore the sadness I feel for my young self and all she never got to do. But, I made it to 23 (something my 13yr old self never thought would happen), and even tho I didn't get to experience things on what is considered a 'normal' timeline for people my age, I have a whole lifetime of experiences to look forward to, and while my depression may be a part of those, it won't be for all of them.

You know what people don’t talk about often enough? Playing catch up in life after spending your teens or early 20s suicidally depressed. There’s so many more layers than just being able to say “I don’t want to die anymore.”

The difficulty in academia or a career after spending years thinking you wouldn’t be alive long enough for any of it to matter.

The exhaustion that comes from self awareness and self soothing, with the constant voice in your head saying “don’t go backwards.”

How lonely it is to watch the people your age starting families when you’re just barely learning what stable relationships are, and the sudden societal pressure of being “up against a clock” for these kinds of things.

The judgement from others if you change your image or interests this late in the game just because you finally figured out who you really are under the demons.

Be kind to those who are developing and blooming after years of not planning on being here long. We are living a life we absolutely didn’t think we’d have, and it’s hard enough without society reminding us there’s expectations of our age.

We didn’t get to be young; we were too busy fighting battles few know.

-

[algae-tm]

ICK

F1 Grid x Rapper!Reader (platonic)

Summary : You’re birthday party leads to immense hangxiety, and an overly persistent suitor.

Currently Playing : Ick by Lay Bankz

Warnings : mentions of sex, I do not dislike Lando Norris I just needed someone to be pathetic, I worry I made him a bit too pathetic…

••••

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and others

yourusername getting ready > going out

view all comments

user1 who cares about the met gala, we all wait a yr to see what y/n’s wearing to her birthday party

user3 lando’s comment incoming in 3… 2… 1…

landonorris can’t wait for tonight gorjus 😍😍

— landonorris georgeous*

— landonorris goregus*

— landonorris you look really pretty!

— user5 oh brother this guy stinks!

— user10 he got an invite this year?

— user8 my brother in Christ she doesn’t want you!

MESSAGES

MESSAGES LATER THAT NIGHT

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and others

yourusername hangxiety so bad I had to schedule a girls trip

view all comments

user1 to be a fly on the wall for that debrief

kellypiquet y/n I am so sorry - Max

— yourusername do y’all hear something?

— user5 wait why is commenting from Kelly’s acc?

— yourusername I blocked him

landonorris looking beautiful baby 😘😘

— kellypiquet Lando be so serious rn - Max

— oscarpiastri Lando pls step away from the phone

— user8 bro you’re the lame she’s talking about 🫵

— user7 ick so strong it transcends borders

charles_leclerc well I had fun last night!

— yourusername yeah we could tell buddy, Alex had to carry you home

— charles_leclerc my girl is so strong 😍😍

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and others

yourusername bad bitches rise!

view all comments

alexandrasaintmleux like a phoenix from the ashes

— yourusername still I rise ✊🏾

— user1 she may have fallen but she got back up

maxverstappen1 y/n I am sorry!!!!

— yourusername dude had one job

user7 was it deranged and out of pocket? maybe! Was it also real as fuck? Absofuckinglutely!!

— user8 idk I thought it was a bit too mean, he just has a small crush and to write a song is just a bit :/

— yourusername oh my god 🙄 he is FINE y’all, perfectly fine, please don’t call paw patrol

— user9 pls be serious he’s obsessed he’s probs gunna comment on this post as well

landonorris 🤩🤩

— user9 if I was him I wouldn’t show my face for 31 business days

— oscarpiastri keep commenting bro she definitely wants you!

— yourusername I fear this is my life now

••••••

Someone asked me to add them to the tag list, I very much did not do it, and now I’ve lost the ask… if that was you I’m so sorry 😭

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

@destinyg237

@aliorasspace

[limethefirst]

UGH MY HEART— I READ THE FANFIC YOU WROTE WHERE THE READER REMINDED SHADOW OF MARIA AND IT WAS SO CUTTEE!! Can I request another one with the same concept? Maybe one where the reader gets hurt in some way connected to the movie’s story line, and Shadow’s scares of losing them? Like how he lost Maria!

Not again

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader [platonic]

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers, mentions of injury, G.U.N shoots a (implied) minor…when don’t they

summary: While trying to infiltrate the G.U.N headquarters, you get caught and are fortunately saved by Shadow after a rough encounter

a/n: this request was challenging for me to think on because I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the reader getting hurt in the story since I didn’t know any moments that made sense but here you go! I’m sorry if it’s not the best but I hope you enjoyed and tysm for supporting my stories!!!

The plan was simple, Robotnik and Gerald would get in and out, while you would infiltrate the GUN base. Unfortunately life had a way of throwing curve balls at you. As you hid behind a wall, opening your computer to try and deactivate some security protocols a stray guard managed to stumble upon you.

“Hey, you,” the guard somewhat yelled, making you quickly snap your head up from your small laptop. You definitely did not look like you belonged here, you were too young compared to most of the other people here who were in their mid 30s to late 40s, “Let me see your badge,”

Oh no, this was something you didn’t prepare for, you didn’t have a badge, you were stuck here. Quickly thinking you set a small distress signal to Stone from the small laptop still held in your grasp, letting him know of your situation.

Nervously you responded to the guard, “Uh I- uhm forgot my ID back home,” you patted yourself down, pretending to look for an ID that you obviously didn’t have. As you did you slowly put the laptop on the floor.

The guard, clearly not believing you, turned on his radio calling for backup. Your mind was racing, you knew getting caught was not an option so the only thing you could do at this point was run.

“You get back here!” You made a quick glance back, seeing as two other men, with actual guns started to chase after you, their weapons raised to you.

There was no way they’d actually shoot at someone, especially someone actively way younger than them.

Suddenly your arm stung, red began to seep through your fake uniform, oh god they were really shooting at you.

You quickly turned the corner running behind a wall, trying to get away. A small lab was close by, maybe you could hide in there and hope they would pass you by.

The door was open by some miracle; quickly slipping into the dark and empty room you made your way to the desk off by the far right and sat down there, covering your mouth holding back the scream you wanted to let out from the burning bullet wound on your arm. It wasn’t a massive wound, not by any means, it was a graze but it was still a gun shot and it hurt like hell. Tears were threatening to spill from your glossy eyes but the fear of making noise kept them at bay.

You heard the door creak open, light footsteps echoing in the room. They were nearing and you had nowhere to run, surely they wouldn’t kill you, that wasn’t morally right but they shot at you, well you were trespassing on government property so you weren’t sure what they’d do.

You heard a creak to your left; they’d found you. You saw the man reach for the electrical handcuffs but before he had the chance to grab them a sudden flash of red caught you by surprise.

Shadow had found you as well, you watched him take down the three men. He teleported throughout the room, confusing the men. He began to teleport between the men, going from one to the next, landing a hit on each before he did it again.

You sat there, your back against the wall, your breathing was heavy, your eyes wide, fear lacing your every feature.

Once Shadow had finally finished he turned back to you, his stoic and angry gaze quickly falling, his eyes widened as he quickly made his way over to you. He gently but urgently grabbed your bloody arm, his face a mix of anger and fear.

He was normally very neutral, the only thing on his mind revenge, but currently all he sensed was fear. This scene was all too familiar to him, it reminded him of those terrifying moments he had so many years ago.

As Shadow held a tight grip on your arm, the tears that were brimming your eyes had finally fell, you tried to choke the sobs but all the adrenaline had finally wore off. Shadow looked around the room, finding some gauze that he then used to wrap around the wound.

Once he had stopped you could no longer hold yourself back, you quickly grabbed onto Shadows torso as you sat on the cold dirty floor, your face red with tears and snot. Shadow stood still, he was enraged, long ago GUN had taken something he cared about, and once again they tried to take something else.

He slowly let his arms wrap around your shaking figure, he knew how to comfort people, he’d done it with Maria before, but it had been so long.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Shadow quietly comforted, his words didn’t do much but you knew you could trust them. So you just sat there, as Shadow waited, remembering what it was like to care and comfort someone.

[caroldantops]

baby, it's cold outside

ship: dark!agatha harkness x female!reader

summary/request:  darkfic; you're invited to agatha's christmas party, but you're afraid to make a move. lucky for you, agatha is more than willing to take things into her own hands.

word count: 3396

dead dove do not eat - this fic contains dark elements including rape/non-con, drugging, hints of victim blaming. proceed at your own discretion.

other warnings: non-magic au, smut (18+), top!agatha, praise, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), light pain play (agatha slaps reader's body once), i think this qualifies as whump, pet names (darling, good girl, baby, and a couple more)

(I genuinely feel like I'm missing some important warnings so let me know if you think there's something i should add here)

masterlist | ao3 link

The wind practically knocks you over as you try to climb up the few stairs up Agatha’s porch. Christmas lights twinkle in the darkness, illuminating the snow that’s gently falling. Your mittens do little to block the cold, hands shaking as you reach up to knock on the door. 

The fog from your breath hangs in the air as the door swings open. Alice greets you with a sweet smile. “Hey, you! You made it! Come in, come in, it’s freezing out here.” 

“Thanks,” you smile, stepping in and sighing with relief as warmth envelops you. “I like your sweater.” 

“Fun, right?” Alice closes the door behind you, posing so you can see her sweater in full. It has a cute silhouette of a witch on a broomstick, being pulled by a group of reindeer. “Kind of a mash-up of holidays. Speaking of outfits, you look amazing tonight.” 

“I think I’m overdressed, to be honest,” you laugh as you shed your coat. You definitely regretted asking Jen of all people for outfit comparisons - she always overdressed for any occasion, and it made you lean towards a velvety black dress. Like Alice, it seems like the other guests milling around are dressed more casual. “Maybe I should just grab my sweatshirt from my car or something.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Jen says as she approaches you. Seeing the sparkly, emerald green dress she’s wearing gives you a bit of relief. At least you don’t stand out the most here. Flying under the radar was usually your go-to. The only reason you even dared come to a party hosted by someone you barely know was from Jen and Alice convincing you that it would be fun. 

Jen soon gets distracted by gossiping with Lilia, but Alice is kind enough not to abandon you. The party is actually pretty nice, despite your initial hesitance to even show up. There’s not very many people crammed into the house - just enough that it feels cozy and chatter fills the space. 

The weather outside starts getting worse through the night, unbeknownst to you as you’re tucked into the cozy library with a few others who prefer the quieter atmosphere. 

Though the night is still young, people have started slowly leaving, claiming that they want to get ahead of the inclement weather. You start to wonder if maybe you should leave a bit early as well, but Alice assures you that if it gets particularly bad, you can stay at her place since she’s much closer. So, you put that thought aside and just enjoy your evening. 

While you’re telling Alice about a weird customer that keeps showing up at the coffee shop you work at, your eye catches a glimpse of the host for the first time tonight as she waltzes into the room. 

Agatha Harkness. The older woman is dressed in a blood-red sweater and simple dress pants, some elegant rings and necklaces sparkling under the light. She’s talking to Jen and Lillia, the former of whom being the reason you even knew Agatha. You’d only talked a couple of times when Jen would drag Agatha along on a coffee run, but you’d always been a bit enamored with her beauty. 

You weren’t even really sure what she did for work - and if your friends knew they’ve never filled you in. All you knew is that she was a very powerful woman, with very powerful connections. Even Jen, who was frankly unintimidated by most people, had to admit that Agatha was a bit scary. 

What Agatha wanted, she got. And if something tried to stop her, there would be hell to pay. 

Alice nudges you, giving you a knowing look. 

“What?” You roll your eyes at her. 

“You’re painfully obvious, you know that right?” Alice raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on her face. “Go say hi.” 

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt their conversation…” The end of your sentence trails off as piercing blue eyes meet your gaze. Instincts tell you to look away, but some unknown feeling overrides that. 

Time seems to stand still as you mull over how little you know Agatha and how much you’d like to know. She regards you, blatantly ignoring the conversation she’s supposed to be participating in. Eyes scanning you, calculating. 

Maybe even hungry. 

With that thought, you’re the first one to break, pulling out your phone to fake distraction. With your gaze now averted, you miss Agatha’s lips quirk up in a smirk. She watches as you turn back to Alice, clearly flustered, and clearly not intending on making any sort of move. 

Lucky for you, she’s more than happy to take things into her own hands. 

“Alice,” Agatha’s booming voice cuts through the noise of the party. Alice looks up as Agatha struts over, boots thumping on the floor with determined purpose. “Would you be a dear and keep those two from starting a karaoke session? They’re both about one glass of red away from breaking into Mariah Carey, and frankly I’d rather risk walking across a frozen lake right now.” 

Alice rolls her eyes, but gets up to go make sure the others behave. Agatha sighs, plopping into the now empty seat next to you. Her nimble fingers trace the rim of the wine glass she’s been nursing. “Jen said you’d be coming.” 

“Oh, she did?” 

Stupid. Of course she did, she told you she would. In your nervous fumble, you reach for the drink Alice got you earlier. It’s remained almost untouched so far, but you’re desperate for an excuse to not talk. 

And, in a true feat of spectacular coordination, you manage to knock it into your lap. 

“Shit!” You groan. 

“Oh, dear,” Agatha juts her lip out in sympathy. “On such a pretty dress too! Come on, I’ll help you clean up.” 

You take a couple of napkins and blot ineffectively at the stain. “It’s okay, this is enough to dry it at least…” 

“Nonsense,” Agatha scoffs, putting her own glass down and standing up. You look at her, puzzled as she just stands there, before you realize she’s expecting you to follow. She starts leading you through the house, down the halls that no guests were allowed in. “We don’t want that to leave a stain, I have a couple of things that should help.” 

“Thank you, Agatha, really,” you say, trying not to analyze all the decor and photos that you pass as she leads you. 

You end up being led down to the basement, carefully descending the creaky wooden stairs. The dwindling party can be heard above you, muffled music and footsteps reminding you that you’re not completely alone with Agatha. 

Agatha shuffles some stuff around, looking through the bins near her washing machine. “Dear, do you have your phone on you? My eyes aren’t great in this darned dim basement light.” 

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and pass it to her, waiting patiently as she rummages around. “Aha!” 

Her grin is illuminated by the light of your phone, and you can’t help but smile - it’s infectious. She motions for you to come closer, turning on the nearby sink. 

“Alright, give me your dress for a second.” 

“What?” Your smile fades, and you recoil back in surprise. 

“Your dress, it’ll be easier for me to clean if you just take it off,” Agatha says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She analyzes your face, and you practically see the thoughts turning in her head as your own brain fumbles for what to do. “Here, one second.” 

She grabs a couple of things from a laundry basket - a t-shirt and some sweatpants - and hands them to you. “Switch these out, and then I’ll clean your dress off.” 

You nod, taking the clothing and changing as fast as you possibly can. Your head gets stuck in the shirt for a moment, and you miss the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your bare torso and lacy bra. As your head pops out, she quickly turns her attention to your dress, rinsing it and applying some cleaning product, rubbing the fabric gently in her hands. 

“Ugh,” Agatha groans suddenly. 

“What’s wrong? Not coming out?” 

“No, the stain came out fine, but I think I wet it too much. It’s soaking, you can’t go out in this. I’ll hang it up to dry, but it’s gonna take a while,” Agatha ponders as she grabs a hanger. “You’re more than welcome to just keep those clothes for now.” 

“Oh, okay,” you say, playing with the end of the shirt. You’re resisting the urge to rub your nose against the fabric - even after having been washed it seems to smell like Agatha. “Thanks again.” 

“Of course, sweetheart, I’m happy to help,” Agatha beams. “I’m going to get this dress set up to dry, you go back upstairs and enjoy yourself. I’ll be right behind you.” 

When you get back upstairs, you realize that most of the guests have left. In fact, it seems like it’s just your friends left. Even the neighbors who live just down the street have retired for the night.

Alice spots you approaching and sighs with relief. “There you are! I was trying to find you. I’m going to need to take Jen and Lilia home. They’re in no state to drive. What are you wearing?” 

“Oh, I spilled my drink, Agatha’s hanging up my dress to dry,” you say, clearly embarrassed. Alice, the saint that she is, does not take the opportunity to tease you for being in Agatha’s clothes. 

“Gotcha.” A loud thump comes from the other side of the room, and you both look over to see Jen picking Lilia up off the floor, both of them drunkenly giggling. Alice sighs, “You’re good to drive, right? They live on the opposite side of town from my place, so if you do need me to pick you up on my way back, just call me okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” you assure her. “I didn’t get a chance to drink anything before I spilled it on myself. I’m just going to thank Agatha for helping me out and then probably head out.” 

“Okay, be safe. And seriously, call me if you need anything.” 

“I will, I will,” you instinctively reach for your phone to see that it’s charged enough, but you realize you must have left it downstairs. The trio leaves in a whirlwind, and suddenly you’re left alone. 

Well, not completely alone. 

“Good grief, did everyone decide to do an Irish goodbye?” Agatha returns from the basement and immediately makes her way to the kitchen to make herself a drink. She sees you standing awkwardly and nods at the sofa. “Take a load off, honey. Your dress will probably at least be dry enough to wear comfortably in a little while. Might as well enjoy the fireplace while you wait.” 

You hear her humming to herself from the other room, and you gaze contentedly at the crackling fire, curling your legs under you. The wind outside rattles the windows. You gasp as you look outside for the first time in a while. It’s started snowing so hard that it’s hard to see, and you can tell that it’s piling up on the streets. 

“Shit, I should really try to get home,” you start to stand up, but a firm hand is placed on your shoulder, and a warm mug is shoved in your hand. You give Agatha a confused look as she sits next to you, a steaming mug in her own hand. 

“Honey, it’s getting real bad out there. Alice said you live across town, yeah?” Agatha says, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I think it’s a bit too late to try to start driving. Good thing is, the other ladies probably made it at least back to Lilia’s place by now. They’ll probably huddle up there for the night.” 

“Yeah…How am I going to get home though?” You look at the drink Agatha handed you, realizing it’s not alcohol but hot chocolate, the top foamy with already melting whipped cream. You take a sip, sighing as the warmth fills your body. 

As you ponder your options, you take a few more sips. Agatha wipes the whipped cream that catches on your upper lip with a napkin, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how close she is. You kind of want to shift away, but your body feels heavy, and the way she’s looking at you has you paralyzed. 

“Stay here,” Agatha whispers, breath dancing against your skin. “You can drive home in the morning once they clear the streets.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you shake your head, taking another big sip of your drink, frowning as you realize you’ve almost hit the bottom. “I can figure something out…” 

“Doubt any cabs are out tonight.” 

“Seriously, Agatha, I appreciate the offer, but I should probably go,” you start to stand up, but are hit with a sudden dizziness, and immediately sit back down. “Woah…”

“You okay, baby?” Agatha asks, but her voice doesn’t sound concerned. Or surprised. 

Your stomach churns a bit. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the lights all suddenly feel way too bright. “I don’t know. Was there alcohol in this drink?” 

“Not a drop,” Agatha answers. 

“I dunno what’s wrong then,” you mumble, your words are slurred. Desperately, you try to put the pieces together and figure out what’s wrong, but everything feels muddled now. 

“Maybe you ate something bad earlier? Here, lay down on the couch, baby.” 

When did she start calling you that? You try to respond, but the words come out too muddled to understand. Agatha guides you onto your back, your head resting on a throw pillow. All of your muscles feel simultaneously heavy and weak, and you need Agatha to guide you down so you don’t just flop like a fish. 

“Agatha,” your word comes out as a strangled whine. “What’s happening?” 

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Agatha says, her voice deep. She’s hovering over you, and you feel a shudder run through your body as she hits you with that hungry look again. 

Wait. 

The only thing you’ve drank tonight was what Agatha made you, but…she wouldn’t have. 

Right?

If your eyes didn’t feel so heavy, you’re sure they would’ve looked up at her wide in sudden realization. Nevertheless, it seems like she reads the change in expression on you, the shift from confusion to sudden fear. Agatha laughs, low and menacing. 

“So cute. I was almost worried that I wouldn’t even get the chance. But thank god for the others leaving early, hm?” The shirt Agatha gave you is tugged up, and her thumb catches your bra as well, pulling both articles of clothing over your chest in one motion. You try to wiggle away with what little strength you have, but Agatha shifts quickly, straddling your thighs and keeping you in place. 

“Pretty tits,” Agatha says, and you don’t know if she’s speaking to you or herself. 

“Ag’tha.” 

“Shh, darling. Just let it happen,” Agatha’s face hovers over yours, her pupils blown out and dark, and your stomach twists as you realize how much this is turning her on. Drugged and delirious, you’re at her complete mercy. And she couldn’t be happier. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I don’t break my toys. Not permanently, anyway.” 

Agatha’s lips press against yours, and she doesn’t even care that you’re too weak to reciprocate. She grips your chin with one hand to keep you in place, her soft lips peppering your face with kisses. It would be sweet, in any other context. You’re sure that her shiny red lipstick is all over your face, and that it’s leaving a red trail as she drags her lips down your neck. 

Her teeth sink in, and you give up your feeble attempts at fighting it. Agatha must feel you go completely limp (well, more limp than you already were), because she chuckles against your skin as she soothes the bite with her tongue. 

“Good girl. So good when you let me give you what you need.” 

The drugs in your system make it hard to register what’s happening. Agatha’s hands are on you, but you’re unable to keep up with every pinch and grope as she explores your body. A sharp tug of your nipples is enough to give you a jolt of awareness, and you moan pathetically in response, your body betraying you. 

“Oh, you like being hurt?” Agatha tugs again and gives your tit a sharp slap as well. You groan, drool starting to drip from your lips. “Dirty girl. Bet your pussy is fucking wet too.” 

She slips her hand under the waistband of your pants, nimble fingers finding your damp cunt. Her mouth opens in a dramatic gasp. “I was right! You like this, huh?” 

You babble nonsense in response, your no’s coming out incoherently. 

“What was that? You love it? Aw, baby, you flatter me,” Agatha kisses you again, not caring about the trail of drool on your cheek. She pushes her fingers into you, meeting some resistance as you’re not quite wet enough to take her so quickly. Your hips twist as the feeling of her fingers dragging against the walls of your cunt makes you flinch. “Take it, take it like a good girl for me. This is what you wanted, right? You were so obvious, with all that staring and how nervous you got around me. You were practically begging for this.” 

“Don’t…” 

“Found your voice again, it seems. Probably not for long.” Agatha clicks her tongue, shrugging as she shuffles down your body, tugging your pants down enough that your cunt is exposed. She kisses down your mound, groaning as she reaches her prize. Nose nudging your clit, she inhales your scent and moans, the vibrations close enough that your clit throbs in response. “Fuck.” 

All the sensations are reduced to vague feelings as Agatha starts to lick you in earnest. Warm. Wet. Feels good. Darkness clouds your vision as you start slipping in and out of consciousness. Fingers again, prodding at your hole. Thrusting in, curling, working you better than anyone ever has. When did she slip a third finger in? 

“Come on, baby, want you to cum all over my fingers,” She mumbles against your clit before flattening her tongue against it, fingers curling against your sensitive walls again. 

Your body shudders, but you can’t even tell if it was an orgasm. The woman you’ve been lusting after is fucking you through climax, and you’re not even going to remember it. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll forget this whole thing. Or at least enough to deny it. 

Because as fucked up as it is, some pathetic, yearning part of you still wants Agatha. She’s drugged and taken advantage of you, yet there’s a part of you hoping that this isn’t a one time situation, that she’ll still want you when you’re fully awake and able to enjoy yourself. 

God, there’s not enough therapy in the world to even start to tackle that, you think.

Suddenly you realize you’re crying, salty tears hitting your tongue as you breathe heavily. Agatha crawls back up your body, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re done. You did so, so good for me.” 

“Good?” 

“Yes, very good,” Agatha kisses the tears from your cheeks. She rearranges your clothes so that you won’t get cold, and pulls a blanket off the back of the couch to drape over both of you. The position is awkward, since you can’t really move much, but she manages to squeeze herself into a space where she can hold you. “C’mere, darling. You took that so well. Let me hold you, pretty.” 

“Aggie,” you mumble against her skin when she pulls you against her chest, unable to conjure her full name. 

“Yes?” Agatha hums, stroking your hair. 

“Why?” 

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment as Agatha lets the question hang in the air. You can feel her heart thumping, feel the way her hands stroke soothing circles into your skin. The last thing you hear before you finally fall into a deep sleep is her voice. 

“Darling, I always get what I want.”

[doctorho]

this one is for eveyone who needs some extra love around these times.

Viktor knows better than he'd like that life isn't always...pretty. Or simple, or easy, or fair. No matter how hard most of Piltover seemed to pretend that there was something magical in the midwinter turnpoint that made everyone suddenly forget the suffering and misery and the complexities of real-life situations, he knows that's not the case.

Which is why he doesn't ask stupid questions when you stay at the Academy over winter break. He doesn’t pry; he doesn’t need to. It's evident enough in the way you preoccupy yourself with work that it's something you'd rather not discuss. You're focusing harder than usual, and he's familiar enough with what that precarious, tight-knuckle grip on being okay.

And Viktor?

Well. Viktor's more than happy to be a distraction.

When he gets to the lab, mid-morning, you're already there. He's not exactly surprised; he'd anticipated this. Maybe even hoped for it. He'd worked with you for a while now and grown exponentially more attached to your company - not that he'd told you the extent of his affections. But he'd get to that. Hopefully.

He came prepared with two warm drinks and still-steaming pastries, and he silently starts unloading those to the common desk that had been designated as the makeshift kitchen of the room.

"Good morning," he says casually, "I brought breakfast." He thinks of adding if you want some, but upon reflection, doesn't. There's a fine line between respecting someone's free will and pushing them to make good choices, and he's currently erring hard to the side of I don't know if you've eaten anything yet today but you definitely should.

You only hum in response, not lifting your eyes off your current project.

In response to this, he hums back and tilts his head, studies the organized mess on your desk; circuit boards, either half-assembled or half-taken apart, he's not sure, stripped wires, a steaming soldering iron. Your hands, shaking a little.

He places the drink intended for you on your desk, just annoyingly out-of-reach, and waits for you to look up.

"When was the last time you ate something?" he asks, holding up the pastry now that he has your attention.

"Why does that matter?" you ask, reaching for the takeaway cup on the edge of your desk. Viktor leans the handle of his cane to block your reach, which makes you look up at him. Properly.

"Just trying to determine if I should make you take a lunch break while I'm bothering you, or if the pastry will suffice."

He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for you to answer.

You shift in your seat. He can hear your back crack in several places, and not in the pleasant type of way.

"Last night," you answer, leaning back with a sigh, then quietly add, "I think."

Viktor reaches over to turn off your soldering iron. "Lunchbreak it is, then. These can be dessert."

"I'm fine-" you start, and he lifts an eyebrow.

"I don't believe you," he says, completely casually, "I think you're pushing through low blood sugar to get this-" he gestures towards the desk, "finished, and I can tell you it's much easier to make mistakes when you aren't thinking clearly."

When you're quiet, he continues, picking up your coat and offering it to you. "You can trust me on this," he says, "I have more than enough experience."

You take a deep breath and sigh it out, feeling somewhat like a toddler.

"I promise you can go right back to poking at this later." He adds, and you slowly take the jacket from him.

"Good," he says, "I know a place."

It's a careful dance, and he knows this; he doesn’t want to push you. But he's been there, and he doesn’t want you to suffer more than absolutely necessary. And he really does know a place.

He re-packs the drinks and the pastries, and you follow him to a nearby cafe-and-drink-cart that's serving small steaming dishes outside. They're serving small steaming cups of - stew? Soup? And warm bread filled with different things, and you hadn't really noticed it before, but now that you were looking at - and smelling - the food, you were starving.

By the time you've registered the selection, he's already ordered for the both of you, and then the guy at the cart is offering you a brown paper bag and Viktor is moving again, and you take a few hurried steps to catch up with him.

"Where are we going?"

You can see him smile before he answers.

"Well," he says, "I was thinking we could take advantage of the great hall being empty, and eat there." He turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised, "I can only imagine how displeased the Academy Staff would be if we risked dirtying their marble floors with common food."

"Oh, really, you can only imagine?"

He shrugs, grinning. "Are you insinuating I have experience with matters such as these?"

"Yes," you answer, opening the paper bag to study its contents while you walked.

He hums in answer. "I am shocked by your accusations." He says, then, clearly fighting a smile, "I would never get caught breaking such a boring rule."

You smile now, too. "Right," you answer, "only the interesting ones."

The way he glances at you and smiles is more than enough of a response.

He stops at one of the long tables at the grand hall, and as he shrugs off his jacket and sits down, you place down the paper bag and do the same. He starts unpacking the contents of the bag, focused, placing down steaming bowls with a spicy scent to them, paper-covered wraps of something, utensils, and smaller bowls of... something colorful. Spices? Toppings?

Viktor opens the containers one by one, making the contents of the single takeaway bag look like a pretty impressive feast.

And you study him as he moves. Careful, confident in his movements, calm. While your insides felt like they were trying to hide, and had felt like that for... a good while now, he was calm like any other day. A rock-solid presence in the otherwise empty room.

"Are you not going to ask me?" you ask, "why I'm working through the winter break."

Viktor's only imminent reaction is the gentle lift of a single eyebrow.

"No," he answers, casually, and it sounds simple when he says it like that.

He meets your eyes, and that feels simple, too; because he is here, too.

It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that. He unwraps a folded paper napkin with careful fingers, and then places a steaming-soft bread in front of you.

You look at him for a moment, and then take a bite of the bread. It is soft and warm and heavenly, and when you taste the stew-soup-something, it's like it warms you down to your soul. You eat in silence; but it feels like there's a gentle bubble of understanding surrounding you.

You hold the warm bowl, and slowly, your hands shake less and less. The tension around your head gives away a little, too.

"Do you like the snow?" Viktor asks, and you follow his gaze out the window.

"I probably shouldn't," he continues, "the cold isn't exactly gentle on me. But it is pretty, I can't deny that."

You hum in answer. "Yeah," you agree with a small sigh, "it is beautiful."

His eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head.

"Do you want to break another rule?" he asks, something michievous curling at the end of his words.

You tilt your head in response. "A more interesting one?"

"Infinitely," he responds with a smile, and you're already on your feet.

And that's how you end up breaking into the roof of the Academy with him. Or, it's probably not technically breaking, since he has the keys, but you definitely aren't supposed to be in there, so that's what it feels like.

It also feels... breathless. And not just because it feels illegal, but it's... it's beautiful, and he holds your hand in the dark stairway and doesn't let go when he guides you to the expanse of the roof, and there's snow floating down all around you-

and for a moment, it feels like you're the only two people in the world, surrounded by a gentle blanket of snow and silence.

Or... not-silence. There is a song softly floating through the air, like it's being reflected in the snowflakes all around you.

And Viktor is offering you a hand.

You furrow your brows as your head catches up with your heart. "Are you asking me to dance?"

"Would you say yes if I was?"

And that was the question, wasn't it;

would you?

Your head tries to butt in with should you, but... something still-soft and light in your heart comes in way too solid with a yes.

Yes, you would.

So you take his hand, and meet him halfway to an embrace. He pulls you close to his chest, and the dance is as gentle as the snowfall around you; just a soft sway from side to side, breathing in sync with the music.

And Viktor isn't sure if this is a good idea, but... you look like you're further away from that edge now, no-longer shaking, and... he hated seeing you in your head that deep, and if he could do anything to help you find your way back to yourself, he'd do that.

It feels a little selfish, this dance, but... it was difficult to justify that when you were in his arms, breathing calm and even.

"I really am fine," you tell him quietly, and he runs a hand up your back slowly. You swallow. "Or I will be, at least."

"I know," he breathes out, and he means it.

You close your eyes, and believe it.

[soft-beams]

i had a vision of pit fighter vi going to a bar and hooking up with the hot bartenders after she lost one of her matches 🙈

omg yes, absolutely.

this may have gone in a slightly different direction, oops 🫢

i feel like vi would turn to two things when she loses a match: alcohol and sex. usually at the same time. so she has her routine set, and loris lets her do what she needs to do to unwind.

she often tries to look for women who look like caitlyn. if they have the bluish-black hair or blue eyes, then vi's instantly taking them back to her small, unkempt apartment. if they have an accent too? even better because it allows vi to fully immerse herself in the fantasy she plays. where it's caitlyn who's with her and not some stranger she's going to kick out in the morning.

but there's something different this night; it doesn't start different, though. vi drowns her wounded pride and shame in bottles after bottles of booze. loris is a forever presence beside her, not getting in her way but ensuring she doesn't hurt herself too much. she's already pent-up, rearing to find herself a victim to sink her teeth into tonight when she sees you.

you're new at the bar, just started your shift, and you're mixing drinks like a pro. your smile is pretty; wide and shining as you speak with patrons and roll your eyes at sleazy flirting attempts. you seem too radiant for this place, sticking out like a sore thumb and that intrigues vi through her drunken haze. she's curious and, frankly, horny so she waves you over.

"what can i getcha?" you ask once you've made it to her side of the bar. your smile is even prettier up close, highlighting your already stunning features. vi feels herself go tongue-tied, but she recovers and aims what she knows a charmingly sloppy grin your way.

"would it be weird if i said you?" vi asks, peering up through her lashes in an attempt to be coy. "or am i overshooting here?"

"definitely overshooting," you snort, but you don't walk away. instead, you refill her drink and add, "but i wouldn't want to hit a drunk loser when she's already down."

usually, something like that would strike a nerve. and while it still does, vi doesn't feel as offended by those words as she should be. maybe it's because you're pretty. but a pretty face's never stopped her from cussing someone out before.

"i don't need your pity," vi attempts to spit out, to sound mean and intimidating. but it falls flat; sounds soft and a little slurred. "so if that's all you're offering then fuck off."

vi doesn't want you to fuck off, though.

she wants you to stay, and it's like you sense that because you don't move. in fact, you're staring at her, amused with a raised brow, that radiance of yours blinding.

"okay," you say easily. "but then you can't tell me what you actually want me here for."

vi's eyes widen, a slight jolt of shock sobering her up a bit.

"...what?"

"i know you, violet." her name rolls of your tongue perfectly. she wants to hear you say her name again. "whenever you lose a match, you drown yourself in booze and find someone to fuck." you reach for a glass behind the bar and set it on the counter. then you pour yourself a drink, smooth and elegant. "and i can only imagine that you're so interested in me because you want to fuck me, correct?"

vi swallows, feeling a bit too hot in her jacket. she doesn't answer immediately and that has you tilting your head to the side, a sly smirk gracing your pretty lips.

"do you want to fuck me, violet?"

god, yes.

"i want to fuck you," vi rasps out, flushed and pulsing between her thighs.

"good girl," you purr before tossing your drink back, showcasing the tempting curve of your throat and vi curses a little too loudly.

fuck.

[the-guppy-fish]

HC - Simon "Ghost" Riley

Types of relationships - Friends

...I have some thoughts...about our boy Simon...there are not many...but more will come...

(definitely have to make a part two🤭)

No warnings, yet. (Slightly proofread)

Simons eyes are always on you. No matter where in the room you are, his eyes always find their way to you. Both consciously and unconsciously. He just likes knowing where you are.

He has made it a habit to rest his hand on your shoulder whenever he stands behind you. (He just likes touching you..and not in a weird way)

Purposefully steals you hairties and hides them in his pockets. Whenever you leave something (jackets, shoes, ...your phone) within his reach, he loves to just hide it from you. Nothing vile. He just loves to see the confusion on your face when you mutter:"Where the f..Simon! Give back my xx"

Somehow, he knows when you get hungry. If you're ever out together, whether that be on an OP or just out with friends, it doesn't matter. Right before your mood turns snappy and you can't concentrate, he hands you some sort of snack.

He has the lamest, most dry fucking jokes ever. But you find them hilarious. Each and every single one of them. Because he has become a master at delivering those jokes.

- while walking in a desert somewhere on an op.

- Simon picks something up off the ground.

"Here, take this."

- he hands you something small. Dropping it into your gloved hand.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

- while walking away he answers lowly.

"It's for rock music."

- you look down at a thumbnail-sized, triangular and flat rock.

🙄

"Eat." Was all he would tell you.

Tries to shepherd you if you're in crowded places. But you got a will of your own and a gene for getting distracted, so it's quite the struggle for him sometimes. He'd place a gentle hand between your shoulderblades, guiding you to wherever you need to go.

"Stay close, love."

He texts you out of the blue. And it's usually something weird. Something he's spent a good amount of time pondering over....or no time at all. Sometimes, it's something silly, and others he's thought about something deep and very emotional.

'Do you think I should get a pet for when i retire?'

'How about a dog?'

'No'

'Maybe a turtle'

'I want a turtle'

'Would you help me pick one?'

'Do you ever think about what would happen if I didn't come home from an op?'

'Shit. Sorry'

'I did it again :'( '

'Sorry love'

'You busy?'

'Oi'

'Answer me'

'Please'

'I just need your opinion on something'

Si👻 sent a picture

'Don't laugh. Just tell me if you like the sweater or not'

Simon is definitely someone who texts sporadically.

And speaking of texting. He loves to send you random pictures of animals he finds. No explanation. He just wants you to see the cute cat/dog/squirrel he encountered on a walk around town.

Simon is the kind of friend who you just click with. You don't have to talk much. You just get one another. But still. You yap his ears off every time you spend time together. And he just listens. Oh, Simon loves to hear you yap. He knows it brings some quietness to your, sometimes, racing brain. And he knows. The day he needs to talk, you'll be all ears.

Whenever he leaves for an op (without you), you use your chat, more or less, like a diary. You know he has no access to any kind of network what so ever, while he's away. So, all the messages you send... will only be read once he comes back to base. And even though it's not much, and usually only silly and funny things you send him, he loves every bit of it.

(Even when you use your chat to keep grocery lists in)

When things get rough. Because they will. Life sucks sometimes. You're there for one another. You have an ongoing list of times where you helped each other out because no one else could. (And you wanted no one else to help you)

The time you had the nastiest cold. Like snot everywhere. Coughing your lungs up. Fever. Headaches. Everything. He took some days off from work to help you feel better. He stocked your fridge with vegetable soup and made you like a hundred cuppas until you finally felt like yourself again. All while laughing at you whenever you sneezed without a tissue because you just couldn't keep the snot in.

The time Simons apartment flooded because his upstairs neighbour had busted a pipe, and water began running down Simons walls. In no time, you had helped him collect the few possessions he had at home and brought them to your place. For a few weeks, he occupied your couch while his apartment got fixed.

One time, your bank card had been stolen, and all your accounts were frozen until the card had been deactivated. With no real money to your name at that moment, Simon had lent you at least a month's worth of rent, utilities, and groceries until your bank had settled everything.

Simon once went out to drink with the task force. He had somehow convinced them that he was sober enough to walk home by himself. (He was not.) On the way home, he had managed to trip over his large feet and stumble down the pavement and almost face plant on the empty road. In his drunken state, he had managed to call you and ask for help. Even though it was late, you had gone out for him. Helped him home and into his bathroom. You had helped him clean the scrapes and cuts on his hands, knees, and chin. Brushed his teeth and made him drink some water before you sent him to bed. The next morning, you woke on his couch, the sound of Simons hangover reaching you from the bathroom. He sounded like he was dying. But at least he was up.

When you were working together, your friendship looked a little different. Your work relationship made it hard for him to express his care for you in the way we'd like. So he found other ways. Both of you had to dial down the banter and long yap sessions. So Ghost found discrete ways to be there for you. He made sure your canteen was always filled with water. When he was assigning guard shifts, he would usually put you two on the same shift to ensure you had at least some hours in each others company. Sometimes, he even saved the tiny piece of chocolate from the field rations you ate so he could give it to you whenever you had a shitty day.

When you're on leave, he loves to ask you to go hiking with him. Simon loves to spend time in nature, and he loves to spend time with you. So why not combine it? You spent hours together, both talking about almost everything between heaven and earth, but also in silence, just enjoying the comfort of being around one another.

Also, Simon loves to tease you. Not to be cruel or try to embarrass you. No. He just loves to see you squirm a little. (But he also loves it when you set your foot down. That fire behind your eyes when you tell him to "fucking quit it." He feels proud to see you stand up for yourself. Even if he was the cause of your irritation.)

[irrealisms]

hi! yr probably not lookin for asks anymore, but. what's your lifesteal elevator pitch? i know absolutely nothing abt it or any of the folks on the server except the vague things i've absorbed frm reading yr analysis as it crosses my dash, but it compels me, etc.+ also merry christmas! <33 🎄🌟

good news: i am always looking for asks

bad news: my parents DID go to sleep and i was able to wrap presents and put them beneath the tree and so on, so i wasn't going to do more asks tonight

good news again: i actually already have a lifesteal pitch. in a google doc. bc i'm normal

the pitch does assume you're basically already into mcrp and just curious about lifesteal in specific BUT we went to dsmp together so this works out

I really love shitty little tryhards causing problems via impressive feats of minecraft, and lifesteal is full of those. if you like people being good at minecraft, I really recommend lifesteal--in s2, clownpierce was top 50 worldwide at crystal pvp, and now he's washed and in s6 there are 2-3 (depending on who you ask) lifestealers who are better than him at pvp (admittedly maybe not at crystal); in s4, there's some stuff that's impressive in ~vanilla (eg parrot wins a 1v1 while on one heart) and some stuff that's impressive through exploits/social stuff (eg a group of people use a glitch + social engineering to get /op and prove to mojang that the glitch is a security issue that needs patched). every season is like this! lifestealers have backdoored the server 3 seasons in a row (s3-5). for a more recent weird Lifestealer Behavior, rekrap and jumper filled in every end portal room and built new fake ones to make it look like the world glitched and generated without them. lifesteal is weird and constantly coming up with new weird yet impressive things to do. a lot of stuff that's currently banned on lifesteal (F3+A, pie ray) are things i only learned were possible from lifesteal. (on the flip side i'd say: if you are not into shitty little tryhards making weird impressive clickbait, you probably won't like lifesteal, although you may still like hearing about it from time to time.)

related to them being shitty little tryhards causing problems: the rules are...more of a suggestion. getting around the rules, and hiding from the server owner and/or other players that you're doing so, is often part of the fun of lifesteal! (see also the thing where i mentioned that it's been backdoored three seasons in a row.) if that's intriguing: check it out. if not: once again, you have been warned.

lifesteal absolutely has lore and some people roleplay on it, there is nonzero c/cc divide, but it's more like traffic life than, say, late dsmp--it's fully improv, not scripted, and even more than traffic life it is genuinely adversarial. you can sometimes be confident that someone is in character but you can never be sure if someone is out of character, on lifesteal-- things like "going to someone's house irl to turn off their computer" or "lying about your homework/school/sleep schedule" or "changing your entire discord layout so that when you DM someone they think you're someone else" or "claiming you need their footage of an event for your video when actually you just want to see where their spawn point is" are all things that have been done on lifesteal that are considered fair game! everything on lifesteal is real; sometimes this goes well, sometimes it doesn't, but both are interesting to see imo because they are real

partially for this reason and partially for other reasons, lifesteal is fascinating to me as a piece of unique storytelling? a lot of mcyt is doing interesting things with its medium and being improv, lifesteal's not fully unique in that, but definitely if you like that you might like lifesteal. along with the improv, there's the fact that many lifestealers lie about what actually happened in their videos (comparing different videos with the vods, or in some cases with "what people say in various vods" when events weren't streamed, gives some fascinating insights imo--how do people frame their stories? how honest are they? what do they blatantly lie about, what do they gloss over or omit, what do they include in full? who, if anyone, do they see as the heroes or villains? whose videos agree with each other, and whose present a totally different story?), and the fact that conflict about "where do we want the story to go next, what do we think would be an interesting video/the best ending" is often the driving motive for in-character wars and conflicts! if you're interested at all in lifesteal and storytelling, check out barrier blocks part 2 by @mering/@myrmica, which is a deep dive on eclipse federation and the end of lifesteal s4 (those are my special guys); it dips into some academic game studies and it's really, really good. i genuinely cannot recommend it highly enough. (part one is also real good for non-lifesteal-specific discussion of mcrp!)

if you want a more specific plot summary (esp of s4) and/or "how do i actually, like, watch this" (of any seasons): hmu! but that's my pitch. also, read barrier blocks

[sturnslutz]

fratboy!matt and bubbly!reader who..

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws.

fratboy!matt who memorizes vey's order at the cafe.

fratboy!matt who is really committed to his relationship.

fratboy!matt who plays lacrosse and hockey with chris.

fratboy!matt who's only friends are vey, chris, nick, nate, and rosy. he doesnt really like the other fratboys.

fratboy!matt who helped chris get into college last minute.

fratboy!matt who barely agreed to being a fratboy, only after hours and hours of begging by nate and chris. mostly nate.

fratboy!matt who still lives outside the frat house with nate, even though they have their own rooms at the house.

fratboy!matt who sees rosy as a best friend, and only that.

fratboy!matt who already knows hes going to marry vey.

fratboy!matt who loves smoking and majored in business.

fratboy!matt who doesnt know all about vey's trauma, but giving her time to open up to him.

bubbly!reader who loves matt with her whole heart.

bubbly!reader who has some deep trauma, resulting to her majoring in psych to actually figure herself out.

bubbly!reader who has a part time job at the dance studio.

bubbly!reader who is the definition of a soft girl.

bubbly!reader who's going to marry matt one day.

bubbly!reader who's best friends are rosy, matt, nick, and nate. maybe chris sometimes.

bubbly!reader who is very smart.

bubbly!reader who is sensitive, but knows how to stick up for herself and isnt afraid to put someone in their place.

bubbly!reader who first time went to rosy's house, was literally starstruck and ran to rosy's mom giving her a big hug.

bubbly!reader whos lowkey really freaky...

bubbly!reader who only goes by her nickname, vey, as she doesnt like her real name because its the same name her mom has, vera.

@muwapsturniolo @m4ttg1rl @lovergirl4gracieabrams @tyummyz @lypsiiii @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 comment to be added or removed.

[elizabethsnuts]

could you write something about hotchniss!reader on Christmas Day 🎄

Christmas Day

Hotchniss x Daughter!Reader

Summary: A look into the night of Christmas eve and Christmas morning for the Hotchniss family.

A/N: I was worried I wasn’t get this out on time but I did! Sort of, it’s the night of Christmas eve right now. Merry Christmas!!!!

———

It was finally that time of year, the time that every little boy and girl looked forward to, a morning full of presents and joy, the time when Santa Claus made his annual appearance. You were a bit too little to fully understand the concept of Christmas, only really knowing that supposedly someone was going to come during the night and drop off a bunch of presents. On the other hand, Jack was so excited he could barely sit still, he could barely wait for Christmas morning.

Aaron was currently cleaning up after dinner, loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Jack came running in excitedly, jumping up and down energetically. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Look at my PJs, look, look! Emily got them for me and I’m matching with Y/N!”

Aaron looked over his shoulder, seeing Jack rush in quickly, followed by Emily with you on her hip, wearing the same Christmas PJs as your older brother. “Oh look at those PJs! They’re definitely fit for Christmas Eve.”

You just saw all the excitement, wanting to join in on all the cheer. “Yayyy! Jammies!”

Emily laughed, stroking your hair softly, she knew you didn’t exactly know who Santa Claus was. “Yes, N/N, jammies! Are you excited for Christmas?”

You nodded at your mama, not even understanding what she was asking. “I ‘cited.”

Jack quickly chimed in, noticing it was getting darker outside. “We need to put out the carrots for the reindeer, Daddy! And give Santa his cookies! We have to, we have to, we have to!”

Aaron laughed, closing the dishwasher drawer and drying his hands off with a nearby towel. “Don’t worry, we’ll have time for carrots and cookies, we aren’t in any rush! It’s only 6:00!”

Emily and Aaron took the two of you outside so you could drop the carrots on the grass for the reindeer. You were not cooperating with putting your coat on, trying to stop Emily from putting it on you. “Mama, no coat.”

Emily sighed, still trying to wrangle your coat on your tiny frame. “Y/N, sweetheart, we can’t go outside without your coat, it’s too cold.”

Jack huffed impatiently, putting his hands on his cheeks. “N/N! You gotta hurry and put your coat on so the reindeer can eat tonight.”

You grumbled loudly when Emily managed to get you into the coat, zipping it up so it kept you warmer. Emily gave you an amused smile. “Why the grumpy face? That’s not the Christmas spirit, baby!”

You didn’t even care about the coat anymore, you gave Jack an eager smile, trying to match his. You took a bite of the carrot in your tiny hand, more interested in it being in your belly than giving it to the reindeer.

Jack laughed and tried to take the carrot out of your hands. “N/N, you can’t eat the carrots. They’re not for you! Emily she’s trying to eat all the reindeer’s carrots!”

Emily chuckled, standing up to grab a new carrot for the fridge. “It’s alright, Jack. We’ll get a new carrot out so Y/N can enjoy that one.”

Aaron smirked and opened the back door, taking your tiny hand in his. “Never seen a toddler willing eat carrots.”

You and Jack put out the carrots outside, going back inside and putting some cookies and milk on a plate out for Santa before watching Home Alone upon Jack’s adamant refusal to watch anything else. After lots of patience, pleading and soothing, maybe even a little bribing, Emily and Aaron had put Jack to bed. You were easier to put to sleep if that was possible, you weren’t squirming in excitement like Jack was and your crib kept you contained. Emily and Aaron were exhausted by the end of it.

The next morning, Jack was awake at the crack of dawn, running into Emily and Aaron’s room and jumping on their bed to wake them. “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas! Wake up!”

Aaron let out a tired groan and reached up to catch Jack mid-jump. “Good morning, Buddy! Merry Christmas, maybe we could sleep for a little longer?”

Jack shook his head and laughed. “Merry Christmas! We can’t wait, we have to open them now!”

Aaron and Emily finally got up, Jack was already waiting downstairs in front of the Christmas tree. Emily gently woke you up, rubbing your tiny chest.

“Hey… it’s time to wake up sweet girl, it’s Christmas. Want to open some presents?”

You yawned tiredly and smiled, sitting up slowly. You giggled softly when you were reminded what day it was. “Christmas.”

Emily laughed, picking you up out of your crib and setting you on her hip. “Yeah, it is! Merry Christmas, gorgeous girl. Let’s go see what Santa brought you.”

Emily walked down the stairs, sitting you down next to Jack on the floor and sitting back on the couch. “Look at all these presents guys!”

Jack let out an excited squeal, almost not able to believe that it was Christmas. “Look! All these presents!”

Aaron chuckled, handing a present to you and Jack. “You guys must have been extra good this year.”

You grinned and held the present up. “I good!”

Aaron smiled and kissed your cheek. “Yes you are, you’re a very good girl.”

Jack immediately tore the wrapping paper off his present, letting out an excited gasp as he saw an action figure of his favourite superhero. “It’s Spiderman! Santa got me Spiderman!”

Aaron knew Jack would love that gift. He ruffled his son’s hair and smiled. “Ah look how cool that is, buddy! You’re a lucky boy!”

Emily was helping you unwrap your gift, peeling off the sticky tape for you. You immediately gasped when you saw what was inside. Emily grinned, looking down at you to see your face. “What did you get, sweetheart!?”

You giggled and pulled the wrapping paper away more, exposing the gift fully. Your face was filled with pure excitement. “Baby!”

Aaron chuckled, helping you take the doll out of the box. “Did you get a dolly, N/N?”

You nodded eagerly, standing up and cuddling the baby doll. “Baby!”

The rest of Christmas morning was filled with opening gifts, having gingerbread shaped pancakes for breakfast and singing Christmas songs before going out to lunch to celebrate the rest of Christmas with the BAU. Although not being able to fully understand Christmas, you still felt all the joy of everyone around you.

[ofdarknesseyes]

The laugh escapes him before he can even stop himself. No, Megumi was nothing like him, that was for sure. Or so he hopes. That was the last thing he wanted for Megumi to turn out a piece of shit like him. From what he’s seen so far though, he knows that is not the case. Megumi was better than him, far better than he’ll ever be. The thought makes him oddly proud as if he had any right to feel proud. All the good qualities that turned out in Megumi were definitely no thanks to him.

Toji's gaze remains on Megumi, his own eyes seeming to react to the spark in Megumi’s own green eyes. Good, he liked seeing emotion in his son, better than numbness which is how he had coped with things when he was Megumi’s age. Slowly he sits up as Megumi continues to let it out.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He sighs but the kid wasn’t wrong. Toji almost ran away several times now. He still could and that’s what Megumi was probably expecting from him. Why would he expect anything else? Despite Toji’s words and staying with him one night, he had yet to prove himself. Maybe Megumi had caught on to his dad’s way, running away first before he was hurt. Damn it, maybe he is a little like him after all.

Megumi was someone who cared deeply about others he can see that now, plus he has people that care about him, friends, and classmates. So it was only natural for him to want to know what is going on out there after the shit show that happened and only natural for him to want to make sure everyone he cared about was alright as well as let them know that he was alright. Toji doesn’t react to the explosions.

“It’s not your fault. None of what happened out there was your fault.”

Some of it might have been his fault. If Toji hadn’t attacked Megumi the first time, if he hadn’t brutally beaten him the second time, well maybe Megumi would be out there helping. However, something in his stomach twists at the thought. Fuck that, he didn’t want Megumi anywhere near those curse users and curses out there. As well as some stupid sorcerers that would only end up getting him hurt or worse.

When the second explosion is heard, Toji grunts as he finally gets up from the bed and searches for a proper outfit. He slips on some dark jeans and a plain shirt, then a light jacket. Making sure not to forget that fancy credit card he found in Megumi’s pocket. They’ll need that for sure.

“Alright, what's your plan then kid? We agreed I’d come with you so that is what is going to happen now whether you like it or not.”

Yeah, there is no way he’s letting Megumi just run off on his own just yet. Maybe once he’s fully healed again if he really wants him gone, he’ll disappear for good again. Once this whole mess is cleared up they find a way to release Gojo from the seal. Or…

“You don’t have to fight though, you don’t owe the sorcerer society, shit. But if that is what you want to do.”

Toji shrugs. They could just go off on their own, and start fresh. Maybe Megumi could finally be a normal kid and just live a normal life. He feels fucking ridiculous for even allowing such thoughts into his head. As if he was capable of giving Megumi a normal life, he wasn’t capable back then so why the fuck would he be capable now? There was also no way that Megumi would want that. He can feel a headache coming on, fuck now he remembers being a dad well it is something alright. He just hopes they get to stop somewhere for breakfast on the way to wherever the fuck Megumi wanted to go.

Almost like a scene from a cartoon, Megumi nearly jumped out of his skin when his father's gruff, sleep-addled voice cut through the silence. The boy's cheeks reddened quickly with guilt -- except, there was NOTHING to be a shamed about. He whirled around to face his father except only dark silhouettes were in his vision. The red on his cheeks transformed from guilt into anger as he marched towards the closest window and whipped the thick curtain aside. He needed to see his father clearly for this and needed his father to see him clearly. The sky wasn't even bathed in oranges and pinks; it was blue and bright. He narrowed his eyes when his vision was assaulted by the light but he adjusted quickly.

“ I'm not like YOU! ”

Megumi paused to calm himself down but his cheeks were still flushed red and there were sparks in his green eyes.

“ I don't leave people behind. I don't have my phone and I... just wanted to -- I don't know. Step outside to think, to see if Sukuna Ryoumen didn't decimate Japan while I was sleeping. ”

There was more than a hint of guilt there. It WAS guilt which had caused Megumi to leave his father's side though momentary -- and momentary he had intended it to be. In the case Megumi died fighting Sukuna, he wouldn't leave his father abandoned in some hotel like his father had done to him in a similar fashion. Megumi exhaled loudly; the anger dripping away from his heart and expression. He slowly walked over and sat on the very edge of the bed, now not looking at his father.

“ Even if I was missing an arm, I would still fight. I don't have a choice. I need to talk---. ”

The distant sound of an explosion cut him off. It was far away, just far to hear it without it being downright alarming. It was followed by another sound of exploding and crashing. The Culling Games had begun without Megumi knowing. The boy jumped out of the bed to look out the window and the there was black smoke billowing in the air.

[rinabin]

dance practice

“fucking seunghan,” you mutter under your breath, turning down yet another hallway. hearing the lack of loud obnoxious music, you realize you’ve gone the wrong way for the third time. groaning internally, you question why you’d tried to find this place yourself instead of simply asking the front desk. and of course seunghan had to not answer his phone at this very moment. granted he was probably practicing but hey!!!! you're a girl struggling in this maze that they called the dance building, you're allowed to be mad.

just as you’re about to take another step, you hear someone calling your name. whipping your head around expecting seunghan to come save you, you see another pair of eyes blinking at you instead.

“wonbin?” you say, surprised. 

wonbin gives you a small wave as he walks up. “what are you doing here? i’ve never seen you around the studio before” he asks.

explaining the dilemma you’re in, wonbin presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to laugh. you pause mid sentence and narrow your eyes at him, “so you think my suffering is funny?”

“no i would never think that,” he says with mock innocence. before you can retort, wonbin offers, “ i’m actually meeting them. you wanna walk together?” you nod, silently thanking wonbin for saving you from yourself.

a silence follows the two of you as you walk through the halls of the dance studio. taking in your environment, you try to memorize the correct turns and corners refusing to be embarrassed like this again.

“how’s daisy?” wonbin asks, catching you off guard.

“huh?” 

“daisy,” he repeats, with a grin, “how is she? i need to make sure i left her in good hands.”

you stare at him, deadpan, “you’re asking me how a stuffed animal is doing?”

wonbin lets out a side smile, “she’s your daughter isn’t she?" 

deciding to play along, you respond, “she’s very well, no thanks to you,” giving him a playful side eye. 

wonbin lets out a scoff, dramatically bringing his hand to his chest, “yn! how are you insult me like this? i literally birthed her.”

"shut up,” you softly shove him with your shoulder walking alongside him.

“soooooooooo, do you dance?” you question.

“not professionally like taro”, wonbin clarifies, “but i do enjoy it. i drop in sometimes when he’s practicing to blow off some steam.” he opens the studio door for you, “we’re here”. 

spotting seunghan, you immediately make a beeline towards him. “hey yn- ow what the hell!” seunghan exclaims as you lightly smack the back of his head. 

“that’s for not answering my texts and leaving me to fend for myself in this maze” you huff out. seunghan, confused opens his bag to see the 50 messages you left him on his phone.

“oh my god yn. i am so sorry, i left my phone on dnd” he apologies. "at least you made it here,” seunghan meekly adds.

rolling your eyes for dramatics, you hand him his wallet. observing the studio as seunghan packs his wallet, you see shotaro drinking water. you shyly raise your hand as a greeting, which he returns with a smile and a nod. next to him, you spot wonbin taking off his jacket, revealing a white tank top that showcase his defined arm muscles. feeling your face get warm at the sight, you quickly look back down at seunghan who is still ruffling through his bag. watching him scramble through his bag, you let him know you’re going to head out.

“wait, no don’t go.” seunghan exclaims, standing up from his bag. “we’re gonna go for lunch after. come with us. it’s on me”.

toying with the straps of your jacket, you mumble that you don’t want to be an intrusion. seunghan reassures you that you won’t be, looking over to shotaro for backup. shotaro agrees, encouraging you to stay while wonbin adds a soft “stay” in support. you meet his eyes - maybe for a moment too long - before turning back at seunghan. 

“okay”, you whisper as you slide down to get settled on the floor. as you put your stuff away, you make eye contact with wonbin once again. he meets your gaze with a gentle expression, definitelyyyyyy not leaving you with butterflies in your chest.

masterlist

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a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays!!! hope u all enjoy my gift to u <3

taglist [send an ask or comment to be added]: @antosaurius@jkeydiary@cherrytaesan@dorritoni@profoundruinsunknown @daegale @choc0br3ad

[prince-liest]

What kind of murderer do you fancy Alastor as back on earth? (Forgive me this is a bit long, I started to ramble dkdkgk)

I tend to see it get handwaved once we're in hell, since anyone Alastor tenderizes just comes back later anyways, but there's a couple of different Flavors I'll see people give Alastor specifically for his serial killing back on earth.

The one I see most often is people giving him a moral code he uses to conduct Wholesome™ murders back on earth. Abusers, racists, door-to-door salesmen. If the law wasn't doing its job (or more accurately, working as intended), then Alastor provided REAL justice. This flavor tends to frame it less as Alastor killing cuz he wants to and more like a hero using the power of incredible violence out of necessity. Though sometimes I'll see him killing as a hobby, he just keeps to this strict moral code about it

Just as common, though slightly less I think, he's definitely killing for funsies, but has a moral code telling him who's off limits. He avoids women and children, and hilariously good people are often safe, but everyone else is fair game. If you're a regular dude who's like, fine I guess, you are DEFINITELY still on the menu

Least common flavor is the "if you're in reach of a sticky hand and I can get away with it, you're on the hit list." This I've observed tends to be saved for fics where Alastor's the antagonist or we're going full villain-mode and reveling in the moral bankruptcy XD

There's definitely all sorts of in-between flavors, but these are the ones I see pop up most often lol. SO! I was curious if you had any headcanons or preferences over what kind of serial killing Alastor did topside :3

I can definitely understand the appeal of the vigilante justice route, but I absolutely have an affinity for an Alastor who killed for shits and giggles and wasn't TOO concerned with who's on the other side of that knife. Love me a bitch who's done some unethical shit for absolutely no reason (⁠人⁠ ⁠•‌⁠ᴗ⁠•‌⁠) adds SPICE, y'know XD

I like to go for a fourth option! >:D I like to think that Alastor does have a moral code for killing, but that it basically amounts to "people I don't like."

There are so many stories out there of serial killers targeting women who look like their mom because they have mommy issues; I think Alastor should get to have the opposite. He kills wealthy, powerful, probably-white men because he has daddy issues and as a result that is the exact kind of man that, just, pisses him off to a murderous extent. He would never hurt a lady! Not because women can do no wrong in his eyes, but because he has a particular image of himself and that would be ungentlemanly. Any Vox-alike, however...

At the same time, I don't think he in any way acted with the intent of being a vigilante for any true justice. Like, maybe he does go out of his way sometimes to find a particularly heinous individual, but that's not really for the greater good. It's an excuse to satisfy his desire to put a wealthy man in his place - on the wrong side of the grass. And if it's a week when he sees that someone was being a little sleazy around Mimzy, or an obnoxious guest on his radio show spoke to him with that particular tone... you don't have to be a rapist to be worthy of Alastor blowing off some steam.

Anyway, tl;dr, I like to think murder was his tension release and so he generally went for people he found annoying (aka. people like his father) under a thin veil of "the world is better off without them anyway." He probably had a lot of revenge fantasies about his dad and the next closest thing was grabbing a shotgun and chasing some sleazy suit-and-tie through the woods barefoot.

[jadeshifting]

🍅 i don't like tomatos but i like drama

LOLL REAL

🍅 SCARLET TOMATO … what’s the juiciest secret you’ve ever kept or will keep in your DR? the kind of scandalous thing that would positively burst into drama if revealed

★⋆. — IN MY HOGWARTS DR

the juiciest secret I’ve got locked away—and believe me, it’s a juicy one—is that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are sneaking around like a pair of star-crossed lunatics. Gryffindor’s golden girl and Slytherin’s prince, all clandestine meetings and smoldering stares across the library—and in the broom closet by the dungeon entrance, which is where i unfortunately found them that one time (gag.) if anyone found out, the castle would combust in a glorious mess of gossip and hexes. but me? i’m just sitting pretty with front-row seats to the drama that could unfold… if I were a worse friend

★⋆. — IN MY SUPERNATURAL DR

this one isn’t just one of those little skeletons you tuck away in a closet—no, this one’s practically a full-blown graveyard.

there’s this one hunt, right when i start tagging along with Sam and Dean. we’re up against a crossroads demon, and here’s the thing about crossroads demons—they’re all about deals. me? i’ve got a history with them.

it isn’t the kind of thing i feel like unpacking with the boys. years ago, when I was barely more than a kid with nowhere to go and nothing to lose, i stood at a crossroads myself. and yeah, i made a deal. ten years of freedom in exchange for a soul I didn’t think I’d need anyway. i’d planned to outwit the system, find some loophole, or just live wild and free while the clock ticked down.

the secret isn’t just the deal—it’s that I’m still on borrowed time. the clock is ticking, and neither of them has any idea. if they found out? it’d be the drama of the century. Sam would get all earnest and determined to save me, probably drowning in research until he passed out, and Dean? Dean would be furious, storming around and yelling.

★⋆. — IN MY EVER AFTER HIGH DR

let me just say this—when you’re the future queen of Eros’ Kingdom, the tea you hold isn’t just hot, it’s boiling. i’m talking love triangles that could crumble kingdoms, forbidden crushes that would make headlines, and alliances so tangled they’d crush political alliances in a half-second.

maybe the juiciest is that there’s a certain royal someone who’s been sneaking around with someone they definitely shouldn’t be. i won’t spill who, because Cupid confidentiality, you know? my wings are heavy with secrets… besides, i’m not exactly unfamiliar with falling in love with someone below your political status (a bodyguard. embarrassingly cliche)

★⋆. — IN MY WALKING DEAD DR

it’s gotta be the fact that i wrote Carl a love letter before everything went sideways with Negan. it’s probably still tucked under my mattress, sealed in an envelope with his name on it, and no one but me knows what’s inside. i didn’t even plan on giving it to him—i mean, what if he laughed, or worse, just didn’t feel the same? i can imagine Carl reading about how I wanted us to road trip down Route 66 in the Ranger, just the two of us, collecting supplies and chasing sunsets. or how I admitted, plain as day, that being with him made the apocalypse feel like something I could survive. if he found out, i don’t know how he’d feel, so I stuffed it away, figuring it was safer as my little secret

[milkywaybesties]

i did. more writing. the gay people have captured my brain. no, im not sorry

Cleo’s Halloween parties were fun. Grian never said they weren’t. But when it came to their friend group, things were… a bit chaotic. Grian, of course, definitely contributed to the chaos, but even he would say that this year’s party was excessive.

Joel, Martyn, Skizz, and some others were all making a commotion in the center of the room. They were playing Uno, and apparently things were getting very heated.

There was music playing, not synced up, from maybe three different speakers. And with all the voices and shouting, it was loud.

And with the motion, and the lights, and the itchy fake feathers on Grian’s parrot costume…

He needed to leave.

But he and his siblings had gotten a ride with Impulse and Skizz, and the four of them were having so much fun… 

Tim was sitting on a couch, laughing with Tango (the two were bright red, and Grian was totally going to tease Timmy about it later). Pearl was sitting on the kitchen counter, eyes fixated on her best friend next to her, clearly not fully focusing on what Gem was saying. Grian knew that, if asked, his twin would say she was only staring at Gem for the joke of the costume, a moth staring at the lights in Gem’s hair, but everyone knew that was a lie.

And Impulse and Skizz, their ride home, were playing Uno. And they were all laughing and enjoying themselves. Grian couldn’t ruin the night for them.

So he had ended up hiding in a side room. He wasn’t entirely sure what room, or how he got there, but he was laying on something soft. Maybe a bed? And it was dark. And a little bit quieter. Not silent. But better.

Light spilled in through the opening door. Grian squinted and let out a small noise of distaste.

”G?” A voice said from the doorway, before closing the door and approaching, “You okay, birdie?”

Grian turned his head slightly towards the voice, but it was hard to see who it was in the dark, and everything was so loud that he couldn’t recognize the voice.

”Hey, it’s okay,” they comforted, “Why are you crying?”

Grian was confused. Was he? He didn’t think he was. But that would explain the wet cheeks and dry throat.

”Is the party too loud?” When they weren’t given a response, they continued, “Okay, I’m gonna be right back and get you some snacks and water, you stay here.”

Grian’s mystery friend went out the door. Grian stayed there, in the dark, and not long later, he heard someone climbing down from the top bunk of the bed. Top bunk? Was it Scar and Bdubs’s room? That must have been Bdubs.

”All this noise,” he complained, “Can a man sleep around here?”

As he approached the door, Grian heard it open, where Bdubs greeted someone on the other side, “Hey Scar.”

Ah. It was his partner. 

“Hey Bdubs,” Scar greeted back, “Where are you going?”

”To see if I can get mom to turn this stupid music down,” he grumbled, “Who plays three different songs at once anyway?”

”Good plan,” Scar said, with all his usual cheer, “I’ll be in here!”

With that, the door closed, and Grian could hear Scar limp closer to the bed before sitting down next to him.

”I brought water! And pita chips,” Scar said, “If you’re not hungry that’s okay.”

Grian rolled over, and looked up at his boyfriend. “I’d take some water,” he croaked.

Scar handed him the bottle, and he sat up to take several greedy gulps before setting it back down.

Without another word, his partner held his arms out to Grian, and he collapsed straight into the man. They sat there for a while like that, and the music outside quieted while they were.

The door opened, and Bdubs came back in. He was approaching the ladder to the top bunk when he paused and casually remarked, “Mom and Dad broke up.”

”What?!” Scar jolted upright, still holding onto Grian, “Cleo and Etho broke up?! When?!”

”They were breaking up basically right when I walked out there,” Bdubs explained, climbing up to the top bunk, “I didn’t ask why. I’m too tired for that. It’s past my bedtime, for goodness sake!”

Grian pulled away from Scar. He was good on cuddles for now, and Scar clearly was going to keep prying information from Bdubs, for very understandable reasons. Instead, Grian tuned out their conversation, letting it become background noise, while he turned to the untouched pita chips Scar had brought him.

Oh, did his boyfriend know him well.

[invader-reggie]

Unpopular opinion and maybe even controversial but I feel like most people really only hate EndHawks not because of the age gap like they say but because they just hate Endeavor. I think EndHawks would be less hated/more popular if Endeavor hadn't been such an asshole to his family. There are plenty of age gap ships like EndHawks but I've never seen people hate on it as viciously as they do with this. They just don't like that it's Endeavor.

The only real argument for EndHawks is the age gap.

DabiHawks isn't superior to EndHawks just because they're the same age or have a villain/hero dynamic.

I made this post because of the massive amount of EndHawks hate I've seen on Twitter especially by DabiHawks fans who claim EndHawks is a shitty ship and DabiHawks is better because "ew Endeavor is an abuser and ew age gap" and it's very difficult to enjoy EndHawks content without someone screaming about how much they hate the ship.

Realistically speaking, Dabi is more likely to abuse Hawks considering he is still a villain who has murdered plenty of people and having trauma doesn't mean he is a good person or that his actions can be excused. Dabi is drowning in his hate and isn't trying to move on or seek help. He only wants revenge. Dabi will not let go of his hate for Endeavor just because Hawks admires him and Hawks won't viciously hate or want to kill Endeavor just because Dabi hates him.

1) EndHawks is a proship because Hawks admired Endeavor as a kid so it's a father son dynamic.

That's wrong. That's based on your own opinions rather than actual fact. There's nothing wrong with seeing EndHawks as a father son relationship but it can also be interpreted as Hawks having a childhood crush on Endeavor and then developing real feelings for him after getting to know him as coworkers. Personally I don't see them having a father son dynamic, it feels like more of a co workers to friends relationship with an older man who's never made a joke in his life/younger man who annoys the older one into being his friend dynamic.

Their dynamic reminds me of the two guys from beyond evil with the older guy being a flirty conversationalist that everyone likes and the younger guy being a stoic, stick in the mud who's annoyed by the older one's antics. That ship is very well liked despite the age gap because of the chemistry and dynamic that they have.

2) Endeavor is an abuser and the ship is toxic

Also wrong. I mean Endeavor was definitely an abuser, but claiming he'd abuse Hawks is stupid. Endeavor's whole arc is him coming to terms with how much of a shitty person he is and attempting to atone for his mistakes. Also he and Hawks clearly have relationship development considering Endeavor lost his arm to save Hawks and the others so idk why people think he'd abuse him.

To add to that, canonically speaking, DabiHawks would be the toxic ship. Dabi very clearly burned Hawks and mutilated him in the show, they also don't trust each other (obviously), very obvious evidence pointing to this being a toxic ship whereas EndHawks being toxic is based on people's own opinions of Endeavor.

4) Hawks would hate Endeavor after knowing he's an abuser

He... doesn't. While we don't get much on Hawks' thoughts about this. He very clearly does not hate Endeavor. I believe it's because since he's been by Endeavor's side and gotten to know him, he's seen how Endeavor is trying to be a better person to his family, and from Hawks' pov, his own father never tried to be better, never tried to atone for his mistakes. For EndHawks, Hawks wouldn't leave Endeavor's side because he gets it. His own father never tried to be better, but Endeavor is trying for his family and Hawks believes that he's striving to be a better person than he was before. Also Hawks isn't a child, his entire view of Endeavor won't shatter just because he turned out to be not as good of a person as Hawks thought he would be (Like how a child's would). Hawks is an adult who understands that things aren't as black and white. Hawks has killed a person too, and has struggled with that. He's seen how Endeavor is struggling and his guilt over Dabi because of how he treated him as a child. So no Hawks doesn't hate Endeavor.

4) Age Gap

This is valid tbh. I respect people's opinion on this because actual age gaps like this isn't everyone's cup of tea. I enjoy age gaps. I enjoy mjjw from SFH (jongwoo is in his 20s and people headcanon moonjo to be in his 40s). I enjoy the ship from beyond evil which also has an obvious age gap (again the guy is in his 20s and the older one is atleast in his 40s). I enjoy EraserMight too (I love their dynamic). I simply enjoy age gaps where the younger is atleast 23+ and the older is below 50 (depends on the younger person's age tho cos if they're in their 30s then it's okay if the older person is around 50 to 60) I especially enjoy queer age gaps where the younger is absolutely feral for the older while the older one has a late sexuality crisis and/or struggles with their attraction because they believe the younger deserves someone their own age and shouldn't waste their life being with someone like them. But I get that not everyone enjoys that.

What's annoying is the people infantalising Hawks. Yeah he's young, but he's not a child nor is he a teenager. He's a 23 year old pro hero who is incredibly smart and works as a spy infiltrating the LOV. He's not a child. He is very clearly an adult and acts like an adult. Endeavor doesn't treat him like a child nor does Hawks treat him like a father. They very clearly grow to be friends and have a shippable dynamic (opposites attract, grumpy x sunshine, likes to annoy/pretends they're annoyed but actually don't mind it)

I also have rules on good age gaps which is

1] The older person has never known the younger person since they were a child.

2] The younger person is atleast 23+

3] They aren't established as a parent/child dynamic

EndHawks fits all three so while you can absolutely dislike EndHawks, just don't try to claim DabiHawks is "Better" and bother EndHawks shippers because no... no it isn't. You can absolutely ship DabiHawks because I believe in ship and let ship and also because ships don't have to be healthy or canonically make sense, but saying EndHawks is more toxic than DabiHawks is very laughable. Dabi and Hawks being around the same age means nothing and does not make them the "better" ship when EndHawks canonically have a healthier relationship with each other than DabiHawks ever will.

This isn't DabiHawks hate just to be clear. Personally I don't ship it because I prefer ShigaDabi/EndHawks more. Also because alot of DabiHawks fanfiction has Endeavor bashing (no redemption arc, no complexity, is just a complete asshole) and ooc Hawks (no Hawks would not plot to kill Endeavor/hate him just because Dabi gave his sob story, especially since Hawks has seen how Endeavor is trying).

If you dont agree then I'd love to hear your opinions on why EndHawks is a bad ship without the age gap reasoning.