#not recently anyways. like you'd get tidbits of it here and there

[victorborkowski]

i wish i was good at articulating thoughts because i've had a Lot recently thinking abt the Cycles of all the x-men students (when am i not thinking about this, though) and it's partially bc i started thinking about how it feels like with the fall of krakoa they're trying to yeet everyone back to that goddamn school, and thus i have been fearful of us getting another generation of students, because. Because. nobody talks! about the goddamn CYCLES!

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ … ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW AND TWO CLUELESS MORONS | kinich x gn!reader

— in which ajaw tends to interrupt kisses. and ruin moments.

— this took way too long to get out, winner of this poll w 458 votes .. includes pre + post getting together, kinich does bite , i love ajaw

recently, the little pixelated... thing that called itself "almighty dragonlord k'uhul ajaw" had proved to be quite troublesome.

and it wasn't just in your love affairs with malipo kinich; ajaw took it upon himself to make not a single second of your day silent.

"i'm nOT forigiving you for this you... you... you- aGH, NEVERMIND! you're literally HOGGING kinich's attention so like.. screw off already!!"

needless to say, it seemed that ajaw was a jealous individual. you'd heard a thing or two about him from kinich, though rather.. unsavory things: irrelevant tidbits, a nonchalant little comment of "i forgot to mention, he'll take over my body when i die, so he constantly wishes for my misfortune."

oh yeah, like that was totally normal.

then, perhaps ajaw's jealousy wasn't unfounded — you "owned" kinich more than he ever would, lol. funnily enough, the way the two of you had met was purely due to ajaw, so if anything, he didn't have the right to complain.

from what kinich told you later on, he had been on some bounty mission for a troupe of ragtag saurian poachers, and had swung by to check grappling indents on the cliffside when ajaw spotted an adventurer scaling the rock. doing what he does best — causing a celestial fuck of a racket — he hovered over, preaching about how "real adventurers don't use equipment" and to "drop everything to show your bravery" ... after a proper talking to, kinich met with you to convey a formal apology.

at the time, you didn't know such a professional relationship would develop into something more.

"he's bothering you again? i'll scold him..."

kinich's voice was quiet, his head settled in your lap, one hand gently circling your wrist. you slowly ran a hand through his hair, released from its typical headband-style. soft, it was fluffy to the touch, and you heard kinich hum in content, bringing his hands up to caress your face — a silent request for a kiss.

and how could you resist? there was something in that gaze that seemed so pleading, so intimate-

"you ICKY ICKY LovEBIRDS !! FOR THE LOVE OF- GET A ROOM!!"

kinich withdrew his hands with a scowl, lips pressing into a thin line. "... read the room, ajaw."

"this almighty dragonlord is not going to witness a k-kis- grOSS, i can't even SAY it...!!"

"..."

kinich seemed to consider something, very briefly.

then, he grabbed the sputtering pixel-dragon forcefully, smothering ajaw's face with a gloved hand. watching in awe and feeling thoroughly entertained, you heard indignant shouts grow muffled.. and just like that, ajaw shut up for the first time in over a decade. historical.

your lover leaned forward, angling his head to the side to press a chaste little kiss into your neck. like he had flipped a switch, he grazed his teeth lightly against your skin, nipping at it first, though not hard enough to draw blood, then biting at it.

"ouch, are you trying to leave a mark? what's with you?"

"shush." he spoke with his face flush to your neck, kissing a small trail up your neck and onto your jaw as if in apology. "i'm merely claiming what's mine."

and there ajaw floated, suffocated and forgotten. "..hell, are those two SERIOUSLY making out ?? when im literally rIGHT HERE!?"

(a/n) ajaw is so detestable i love him if possible i think id want to pinch his pixel cheeks. anyway "so call me maybe" is up next w "so cradle these wings" after, they were supposed to be sorta related but i don't the release order matters so :p

[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic

( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )

[piplup335]

1 Eggs x reader! (yes, the skin) [also it's a part 2 lmao]

*ahem* HELLO, F E L L A S so yeah hi this is a part 2 to another fic i wrote, uhhhh the original is over here ima tag the major fellas in this story btw :,) never meant for that thing to have a part 2 but @quantoom (i cant ping you for some reason D:) requested for one and I felt like writing one as a coping mechanism ;-; I’m feeling quite under the weather recently

so uhhh enjoy! :D

...o boi this was longer than expected ;-;

⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯

After that one round, you were tired, stressed and burnt out. You did not feel like doing a single thing.

Every other round you had killing duty mostly involved you dragging your feet around the map, attacking anyone you crossed paths with and watching with empty, soulless eyes as the survivor ran away in fear like a scared puppy.

Shedletsky would keep slashing at you with his sword. Taph would toss his tripmines towards you whenever he had the chance. Chance himself would shoot you whenever he gambled enough, and even when his gun exploded on him and left him barely clinging to life, you didn't go after him. You knew Elliot would heal him anyway, and you probably wouldn't catch Chance before the round came to an end.

You knew you'd embarrass yourself in front of all the other survivors anyway. And you couldn't be bothered anymore.

In the past, you'd ruthlessly hunt down survivors with whatever you had at your disposal. You were always excited for rounds...it was one of your only sources of entertainment, after all. Then again, you liked the thrill of the chase. You enjoyed seeing the fear in their eyes as you chased them down, picking them off one by one. You liked seeing the blood drip from Elliot's mouth as you snapped his neck. You liked it when Shedletsky's sword fell from his hand onto the floor with a dull clatter as your weapon pierced his heart. A sound reflective of his fate. You liked watching Chance flip his coin as he ran away from you...only to miss his shot and get impaled by you.

There seemed to be a look in your eyes during matches. An almost manic expression. Manic, yet you still had your sanity intact. You simply liked the thrill of the kill. You thrived in this eternal game of cat and mouse.

But now, your unquenchable thirst for adrenaline was gone after that little ploy the survivors concocted. You were exhausted and burnt out. You ended up with self-doubt as to whether or not you were truly good enough...and you kept thinking about that round. About how you couldn't predict the survivors' actions, and how you fell for every single trick in the book. Self-doubt kept clawing at your mind, day and night. You didn't bother trying anymore.

The other killers noticed your now-sluggish nature.

Especially 1x1x1x1 and c00lkidd.

1x1x1x1 spent time with you much more often, comforting you through your constant self-doubt. They would often make requests to the Spectre for you, constantly checking up on you and bringing you some tidbits when you were feeling down. If you didn't feel like eating that day, they'd simply take your side of dinner to your room and spoon-feed you themself.

"Eat," they'd say, more as a demand than a request. "You need to eat something, dearest. It's for your good."

Sometimes, they'd entice you with the promise of your favourite dessert. And it worked like a charm, just as they expected.

c00lkidd saw 1x1x1x1 as an older brother, and naturally, he'd pay extra attention to you. Whenever 1x1x1x1 was in a round, he'd be the one checking up on you and cheering you up. The kid would even leave his drakobloxxer plushie with you sometimes while he went back to his room to take a nap, saying you needed it more than he did.

Sometimes, instead of sleeping in his room, he'd fall asleep in your bed, curled up against you like a cat as he snored softly, drakobloxxer plushie secure in his arms. But that just meant you had more company...and you appreciated it.

As you continued letting the survivors walk all over you during your rounds, your self-deprecation got progressively worse. Every time you got hit with a crushing blow to the face or blinded by a tripmine, you could only muster up the energy to perform a weak swing towards the survivors before trudging off to another part of the map.

It got so bad to the point 1x1x1x1 and c00lkidd both had to comfort you as you cried in bed. That round's killer was Jason. He knew about your state too...and silently vowed to annihilate all the survivors on your behalf.

"Dearest, it pains me to see you in such a state..."

1x1x1x1 gently rubbed your back as you cried in bed, curling up and using your bed to shield yourself from the outside world.

"1x, I'm useless...! I can't kill survivors like before, I get hit by every trap, I..."

A pained sob escaped you as you buried your face in the sheets, not wanting to look your lover in the eyes.

"...I'm worthless...! I just...I don't even have the energy to handle one survivor...!"

1x1x1x1 gripped your shoulders tightly.

"My love- (Y/n). Listen. Look at me."

You gazed up at him with dull, tear-streaked eyes.

1x1x1x1 hated seeing you in this state. They loved seeing you look so lively, so excited and hyped for the next round. They missed seeing that spark in your eyes after every one of your rounds. Win or lose, you'd laugh happily in their arms.

They had never seen a loss shake you up this badly.

Your eyes were empty. Lifeless. The sparks of hope now extinguished and stamped out, drowned in sorrow and despair.

"Love...don't let that round get to you. Your self-worth isn't determined by what you can do. It'll get better, I promise. You can do it, I believe in you."

c00lkidd placed his plushie next to you.

"(Y/n), take this! It'll make you feel better!"

You accepted the plushie with a sad, but grateful smile.

"...thanks, c00lkidd. 1x...you're an amazing partner...but don't believe in me. I'm too burnt out...I don't have the energy for this anymore. Don't put your trust in me...I'll never be able to live up to your expectations."

1x1x1x1's soul shattered. They despised seeing you in such a depressed state.

They despised your condition. They despised the survivors, who were the underlying cause of your self-hatred. Sure, they were the living embodiment of Shedletsky's hatred, but that didn't mean they'd wish it upon others, especially not you.

They had an idea.

A dumb one, but an idea nonetheless.

In the middle of the night, when everyone else was asleep, 1x1x1x1 quietly slipped out of their bed and grabbed a notepad and a pen.

They walked outside the killers' cabin, with a goal in mind.

As they opened the door, the cool night breeze brushed against their skin. There was no time for that, though...as time was of the essence then. It was best that they finished what they had set their mind to do before someone else woke up.

1x1x1x1 scribbled down a short message on the notepad.

"Let me join a round with (Y/n), or else."

They placed the note down on the wilted grass, brown and dead from all the times it had been trampled over. They sat on the wooden steps, waiting for a response.

The note fluttered away into the distance as a gust of wind swept by. "Good," 1x1x1x1 thought, "that means my message has been received."

Instead of receiving a response in the form of another note or an object, 1x1x1x1 felt darkness cloud their vision.

When they finally regained their sight, they found themself at the edge of a cliff. The sky was blood red, and pitch-black clouds dotted the horizon. Behind them was a forest, filled with nothing but dead trees. It was the Spectre's personal realm.

A sinister, deep voice filled the air.

"How...unexpected. I'd expect you, 1x1x1x1, to be one of the most sensible ones out of all the other killers. So why, pray tell, did you think it was a good idea to try and make a threat against me? This realm is MY creation. Mine to destroy whenever I please."

Laughter could be heard. Laughter which conveyed not humor nor amusement, but rather...mockery.

"Your life is in my hands, 1x1x1x1. I can end it if I want to. Such a foolish thought...to make a threat against ME."

1x1x1x1's zipper mouth curled into a snarl.

"...I don't care. I'm willing to do anything for my beloved. I'll fight alongside them and show them that they're not worthless, even if it costs me my life."

Silence. Silence filled the air.

A gust of wind brushed past 1x1x1x1, the wind sounding in their ears. An interested hum could finally be heard after an uncomfortably long pause.

"You're quite fond of your fellow killer, aren't you? I didn't expect that...especially not from you, 1x1x1x1. I'll tell you what. I only have one round planned for them tomorrow...so I'll toss you inside there too. However...c00lkidd is following you. No exceptions. Do we have a deal?"

As 1x1x1x1 pondered over their choice, the Spectre continued.

"Think about it. You and I will both get what we want. You get retribution for your oh-so-delicate lover, and I get a bit more entertainment. It would be fun to switch things up a bit, don't you think?"

The embodiment of hatred let out an annoyed groan. "Don't talk about my beloved like that. But fine...I agree to your terms."

Amused, distorted chuckling filled the air around him.

"I'm glad we could come to a consensus, then. Farewell, 1x1x1x1. I hope to see you put on a good show tomorrow."

And with that, 1x1x1x1 felt their vision blur and distort...slowly but surely warping them back into their room.

The morning sunlight roused you from your sleep. You dreaded the day ahead. More matches, getting injured and wounded too many times to count...by then, the pain from slashes and punches was nothing more than a dull ache in your body.

Luck wasn't on your side, however, as you got thrown into a round just as you finally got ready for the day.

You glanced around the map. Planet Voss...was that 1x1x1x1 nearby...?

You walked towards the semi-glowing figure nearby.

1x1x1x1 stood there, patting a hyperactive c00lkidd on the head.

"1x1! 1x1! We're playing together today?"

1x1x1x1 adjusted the chef's hat on their head and twirled a golden frying pan in one hand while gently ruffling c00lkidd's messy hair with the other.

"Yes, we are..."

Your lover looked up at you.

"...and it seems like (Y/n) is joining us too. Come on, kid...we got some people to tag."

The red child jumped for joy, practically bouncing in excitement. "Yay! This'll be so much fun!"

As c00lkidd sped on in front of the both of you, you turned to 1x1x1x1.

"Love, what's going on...? Why are the three of us in a round today...? The Spectre only does rounds with one killer..."

1x1x1x1 rubbed your back soothingly.

"Don't worry about it, dearest. Let's just say...none of the survivors will hurt you this round. I promise.”

You nodded, still unsure of what was going on, but you decided to trust them anyway.

c00lkidd ran on and spotted Guest 1337 and happily dashed towards him, sword in hand. The hyperactive child was always ready to play.

Guest, however, was unable to block in time. c00lkidd’s Walkspeed Override hit, and he giggled happily, brandishing his sword before him as the ex-soldier burst into flames.

“1x1! (Y/n)! Come onnnnn, this is so fun!”

A small smile made its way onto your face. Maybe c00lkidd’s infectious energy and 1x1x1x1’s calm nature would restore some life to you.

c00lkidd continued “playing” with Guest 1337, who was running towards Builderman to ask for a dispenser. 1x1x1x1 sprinted off, their apron's strings flying behind them and their golden pans clutched in their hands as they ran off in pursuit of more survivors. You glanced around you. c00lkidd had already put Guest 1337 to "sleep" and was now going after Builderman. You could see the faint glow of 1x1x1x1 from somewhere across the map. His movement seemed to be pre-determined. Calculated. As if he was in pursuit.

You decided to head in a different direction, in hopes of finding more survivors. To your delight, you stumbled upon Elliot, who was busy working on a generator.

His 80 HP would greatly benefit you since he'd be easy to kill, you thought to yourself. Three slashes and he'd be dead on the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood.

Fortunately for Elliot, he had a charge of Rush Hour and sprinted away.

Unfortunately for him, he ran into a dead end.

As the realisation settled in, he backed up into a blind spot, praying you wouldn't see him and he'd have a second chance to get away. His shoulders relaxed, however- you had been passive for the past few weeks, so surely you wouldn't kill him...?

Your head snapped towards him, manic fury in your eyes.

Oh. Guess not.

You charged towards the pizza delivery boy, weapon in hand and ready to inflict a gashing wound on him. Just like how Jason taught you.

Two strikes, and a third in the chest. You grinned at your perfect execution, and you kicked Elliot away as he limped away, now on 30 HP.

Twirling your weapon in your hand, you flung it at your target.

It struck him in the head and he fell over, lifeless. Bullseye.

"That's for all the times you healed my targets. Not so great now, are you..." you muttered to yourself.

You checked the list of survivors in the round.

You had just killed Elliot, so his portrait and name were now in red. As you looked down the list, you saw more red names.

Guest 1337. Builderman. Taph. Dusekkar. Two Time. They had fallen, too.

The only people left were Noob and Shedletsky...and the former was in sight.

You raised your blade high in the air and plunged it into the ground. Thorny vines took root, sprouting from the ground and spreading across the floor. They wrapped themselves around Elliot's body and took control of his corpse.

You had a minion at your disposal.

Blade in hand, you stealthily sought out Noob. The poor soul was looking around, panicked...frightened at what was to come. They saw all their teammates get picked off one by one, and they feared that they would be next.

Elliot's corpse haphazardly stumbled towards Noob. The survivor only realised it was a minion too late- Elliot already grabbed his pizza cutter and slashed at Noob.

"A- a minion! No, no, no...!"

The hunt was on.

You adjusted your blade in your hand and leapt towards them, ready to deliver a killing blow. Noob pulled out their slateskin potion, panic and desperation in their eyes as they hurriedly chugged it down.

"...I'm not dealing with that thing today. That's it. I'm tired of it." You grumbled.

You used the blunt edge of your blade to knock the glass bottle out of their hands. The substance spilt onto the grass, desaturating and hardening it till it was just like concrete.

"Perish, you puny Robloxian. Flowers...bloom and grow."

Vines sprouted from your hand and snaked towards Noob, tripping them over and holding them in place by their ankles. You strolled towards them, blade in hand and a coy smile on your face.

"It was never meant to be, little one."

You plunged your blade down. Glowing flowers sprouted all over Noob's body, climbing on top of one another high into the sky. The flowers formed and converged into a bud, which burst open into a beautiful, crystalline violet lotus.

You hadn't seen that in a while. And something about that breathtaking sight filled you with energy once again. Energy to hunt down the last survivor...Shedletsky.

Speaking of him, your locations were highlighted to each other. Just like with every other Last Man Standing scenario.

You were determined to hunt him down. You knew he concocted the plan that brought your mental state to ruins- he often gloated about it in front of you during those rounds where you did absolutely nothing.

And with your energy and willpower back, you were ready. Prepared. Determined, even, to avoid taking a single slash from him.

As you ran on past the trees and endless white walls, you finally spotted the chicken-eating glutton that humiliated you that very day. Shedletsky turned towards you, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Oh! Ready to get pwned again? Not today!"

He fled past the trees, but you were prepared. He turned a corner, and you followed closely behind him.

It was a trap. Shedletsky waited there, and the moment he saw you...he raised his Linked Sword, ready to strike.

"(Y/n), no-!"

A glowing figure shoved you aside. As you collapsed to the floor, you saw them.

1x1x1x1.

They took the hit for you and groaned in pain as the sword sliced their transparent torso.

"I did say I'd make sure none of the survivors would hurt you this round, sweetheart."

They looked up at Shedletsky, blazing rage in their eyes.

"I will not let you hurt one of the only individuals who are a source of comfort to me, Creator."

You glanced at your beloved, who was stumbling in pain. Neither of you enjoyed seeing the other injured, no matter how minor the injury was.

"Corrupt Nature!" A gleeful voice could be heard from somewhere behind you, and you turned your head to see c00lkidd throwing a brick at Shedletsky.

"Go on, (Y/n)! They're yours to tag!"

You turned back towards the brown-haired male, who was already limping away in pain. He seemed to be a bit dazed from the impact of the brick and was clearly not up to the task of running away from you.

"...not today, Shedletsky. I won't let you get away from me this time."

Sword in hand, you had a purpose. A goal. Kill Shedletsky.

You had all intentions to slash the soul out of him and turn him into a testament that your plants would always prevail. You wanted vengeance. Vengeance, for he had humiliated you all those weeks ago.

You sank your sword into the ground, vines shooting out to grasp at his ankles. Instead, Shedletsky deftly stepped around the plants, barely avoiding getting tangled up in the floral attack.

"Another cheap trick? C'monnnn, you can do better than this!"

Thirty seconds passed, and you were getting desperate. Only fifteen seconds remained on the clock, and he was still alive and running.

You almost ran into a wall. Five seconds wasted, ten seconds left to catch him.

Shedletsky turned around and tried to slash you. Your eyes widened in panic and horror, but your body instinctively reacted to avoid the attack. Eight seconds left.

Seven...six...five...

"Stay for dinner!"

A dark sword flew towards Shedletsky and hit him in the chest. Shadowy restraints bound him in place.

Four...three...two...

"I won't let you get away this time, Telamon. Flowers will always blossom in the end."

You sank your sword into his heart, as vines covered his body and constricted him.

One...

The Killers won.

You felt...light. Like the world around you was distorting.

When you finally came back to your senses, you found yourself back in the cabin, the other two killers by your side.

c00lkidd hugged you tightly, laughing and giggling happily like a young child.

"We did it! We won! Yay!"

He let out a soft yawn and retreated back to his room after letting you go. The kid was tired...he always was after a round. You couldn't blame him. Deep down, he was just a child. He was hyperactive at times, but he didn't have the energy capacity similar to the others. He got tired easily, and that was understandable.

As you watched the kid stumble back to his room, 1x1x1x1 glanced down at you.

The literal glowstick was taller than you. But the height difference didn't matter in your relationship, anyway.

"Feeling better, sweetheart?"

Your stoic expression softened into that of a happy smile. Then, soft chuckles.

They missed hearing you laugh like that. It was nearly identical to that before the fated round.

"Much better, 1x. Thank you...for everything."

You paused in your sentence, a sudden thought crossing your mind.

"Hey, 1x1...? Why were there three killers today? What happened? Did the Spectre make a mistake?"

The embodiment of hatred chuckled and adjusted their toque slightly. They knew the reason all too well.

"Don't worry about it, dearest. You did well. Do you want some dessert?"

The way your expression lit up as you nodded excitedly was all it took for the chef to know that their mission was a great success.

⋯⇋ ૮(•͈⌔•͈)ა ⇌⋯

and that’s all for today! thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! I’ll see you all soon :D

[luveline]

omg i loved the loopy wisdom teeth one w peter 😭😭 can i get that with hotch, and reader, who's usually more reserved starts flirting with him and stuff while she's loopy

ty!! and ty for ur request ♡ fem, 1.2k

"Most people have their wisdom teeth out in their teens," Aaron had said before you went in, a Spencer Reid tidbit if there ever were one. 

"I'm a special case," you'd said, accepting his kiss on the cheek but denying his half hug. "See you in a bit." 

People often lament that Aaron's ended up with a  woman so much like himself. You must make each other miserable, one ill-advised chancellor had said, to your amusement. 

We're desperately unhappy, you'd said back. 

The opposite is true. You and Aaron, or Aaron alone, at the very least, is as happy as he's ever been. Work is hard but manageable, Jack is well-tempered, growing smarter and kinder each day, and you're his sweetheart. You're reserved, a little solemn, but you understand him better than anyone ever has. It's a relief like no other to be known so well. 

And so he has zero qualms looking after you for the rest of your lives. He waits patiently for you to come out of surgery, arms behind his head in the empty waiting room. He's worried about you. This isn't a painless procedure. 

Footsteps echo down the hallway, but you announce yourself anyways in the doorway. "Handsome!" you say, a lisp to your happy sing-song, "I'm back." 

Aaron doesn't know what to say. He giggles like a kid at your sudden demeanour and sits up properly. "Honey." 

You wobble with the nurse at your back, prompting him onto his feet to take over. "You should remove the gauze in about half an hour when the bleeding has completely stopped. Clean daily with saline, there are instructions in the bag," the nurse says, offering Aaron a white prescription bag. "Okay?" 

"That's perfect. Thank you so much," he says, taking your hand. 

"You're perfect," you say, looking up at Aaron with stars in your eyes. 

The nurse laughs softly as she leaves. Aaron doesn't bother hiding his amusement, grinning at you as he puts his hand between your shoulders to guide you to the front of the building. 

It's busier here. Reception is hectic. Aaron puts his arm more firmly around you to stop people from bumping into you and you again look at him with your starry eyed gaze. "You're very tall," you say. 

"I am," he says. "Though you joke occasionally that I'm shrinking." 

"The only thing getting smaller is your waist," you say, poking at his abdomen, "my champion." 

You're referring to his recent third triathlon success. He's no record setter, but it keeps him active and happy in the summer months, and he can't pretend you don't appreciate the additional definition of his muscle during this time. You like him every month of the year, of course, but with his trim waist comes a certain amount of energy you also appreciate. 

"Completely inappropriate behaviour," he says lightly, waving a short goodbye to the receptionists as he holds open the door for you to pass by. "Next you'll be enacting PDA." 

"You'd like that, huh?" 

Hard to take any notice of you with gauze fluffing your words, and again, he laughs at you. "I'd love that." 

"Well, wait, I'll do it right here–" 

Aaron catches your hands mildly. "In the car first. Kiss after." Your downtrodden expression requires urgent care. "What, that's not okay? You're upset?" 

"No," you lie obviously, glaring down at your feet as you wobble forward. 

"Maybe we can wait until later, then." 

"What?" You gawp. "You just said in the car." 

"I'm teasing you," he says, taking your elbow. "We've been known to do that with one another on occasion. You know I'd happily kiss you anywhere you wanted to be kissed, honey, now watch your step on this curb. Watch your step. Good job." 

You're extremely pleased by his praise, leaning into his arm with your head tipped back. "You're so handsome. Can you kiss me now?" You soften your eyes. 

Alright, you have a little bit of bloody dribble on your bottom lip, and yes, there's this dazed look about you like you've had a mean shock, but you never look at him like this day to day. Perhaps in your more intimate moments, your arms around him when the lights are low, or early, early in the morning when you haven't yet remembered your more timid temperament. But it's so rare. It catches him off guard, how pretty and wanting you look. 

Aaron leans down for a careful kiss, the barest of pressure. 

"And a good kisser," you murmur, turning into his chest for a hug. "I love you, I want you to carry me to the car." 

"Sweetheart, I don't think I can," he says. He's mostly kidding in the depth of his apology, but there are real threads of remorse in his voice, hot as a flame. "Come on. We'll go home, okay?" 

"But you always do everything for me. Everything I ask for." You talk into his chest, likely leaving pink spit on the grey of his quarter zip. He couldn't care less, his arm around you, looking down with equal measures of fondness and surprise. "I had to stop saying I liked things because you kept buying me stuff. I love stuff." 

"Then why did you stop?" he asks quietly. 

"'Cos I know I don't deserve it. Don't deserve you, Aaron, you're the best man I've ever met. Can't believe it."

He savours your mumbling, and begins to walk forward slowly, encouraging you out of his chest as he formulates an answer for your confession with the same gravity. "You can't believe it?" 

"You're a tall glass of water." 

He actually sighs aloud. My girl, he thinks, rubbing your lax shoulder. "Alright. What if I thought the same of you? What then?" 

You giggle infectiously, a stickying sound like you know he's trying to trip you up. "Nice," you say. "We should always be like this." 

When he brings it up later, the extreme effects of your anaesthesia dissipated and your pain revamped, you can't think of anything worse. "I'm mortified," you whisper, your ice pack chilling the top of his arm where you've wedged it, your hand tucked between his thighs in an attempt to stay warm. 

"I quite liked it." 

"You would. You used to flirt with me so aggressively–" 

"Aggressively," he repeats, grinning. 

"–you're lucky I survived it." You sniffle, rubbing your nose into his sleeve. "Was I as intimidating as you are?" 

He presses his lips to the top of your head, not kissing, just there. "No," he says into your skin, "you weren't intimidating at all. Just lovely. It made my day." 

"I'll have to have my teeth taken out more often." 

He snorts. "If you'd rather have more teeth pulled than flirt with me unaided, things are worse than I thought." 

"Don't be like that..." Much quieter, "Will you rub my back again, please?"

Just like that, he's reminded of how much he likes your regular reserved attitude. "Sure, honey. Lean forward."

[ithebookhoarder]

(BAU Headcanons) Spending a day off with your S.O.

Aaron Hotchner

Ok. So. First of all... Aaron's casual wardrobe is sinful and I feel like I need to mention it when talking about days off. After all, he's not going to turn down the excuse not to wear a shirt and tie, knowing jeans and his usual polo shirts are better suited to both relaxing and possibly chasing after Jack.

If you two ever got a rare day off then he would do his best to make you breakfast in bed, knowing that having an excuse to stay in bed is a luxury.

If Jack is with you, and not at Jessica's, then you know Jack would be right next to him in the kitchen, begging to help. I mean, if you watch Bluey, picture the episode where Bingo is trying to make that omelette for Bandit on his birthday... that's basically the vibe here.

Hotch wouldn’t try to force you out of the house if you didn’t want to go, as he’s perfectly happy to stay in and play with you and Jack. After all, you have the most recent lego set, which you bought him for his birthday, to finish building.

"You up for that buddy? Six hands are better than four, after all."

Or, if you don't have the energy or patience, then you three can curl up on the sofa together and watch movies and the backlog of tv shows you’ve missed out on whilst you’ve been away working. 

Fun Fact: Aaron would rather die than admit to the rest of the BAU that you got him hooked on reality shows like The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills or Below Deck -but he is. He finds them fascinating case studies in human behaviour... or that's his excuse anyway when you call him out on it.

However, if you do want to actually leave the house and get outside then he’d be pretty relaxed about whatever it is you wanted to do, as long as you could all do it together. 

He'd also love it if you both got the chance to go for a run, enjoying the rare opportunity to race you through the nearby park. You can just soak in the sunshine and watch the other people as they make their way through the world, before grabbing a coffee on your way home.  

David Rossi 

Rossi is a man who knows the value of creature comforts, as we've seen repeatedly in the show. You know this man enjoys having time off to indulge himself - and you too.

As soon as he knows he has the day off, you can bet he's driving you to the local farmer's market to buy all the ingredients needed for a home cooked feast. 

Despite promising to be there only an hour, you know he's the kind of person who would talk to each and every vendor, learning all their names and asking after their families as if they've been friends since birth.

You'd end up spending almost the entire morning - and part of the afternoon - shopping, sampling various treats and wares, and buying several bag's worth, before you're finally able to drag him back to the car.

As he's cooking, Rossi would definitely play his favourite records. He alternates between crooning along and telling you tidbits about the artists - and the many crazy memories he has about these records.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I first heard this? We were in this tiny little motel, in the middle of a horrific blizzard, and several whiskeys in..."

It's hard not to get distracted, drawn in as he pulls you close and starts dancing about the kitchen. You'd get so distracted that you almost let dinner spoil and only remember it's even there when you start to smell something burning.

"Ah! Merda!"

After dinner you know you'd end up outside on his patio, enjoying the view as the sun goes down, over a cocktail of his choosing.

Derek Morgan

You know this eager beaver would not be spending a day off with you doing nothing or letting the day ‘go to waste’.

He’d be at your doorstep bright and early, looking unfairly energetic for someone who has been running on minimal sleep all week.

Thankfully, he brings coffee and breakfast with him which is his way of bribing you to get your ass up and out with him. 

As for the day itself, he’d either have the day planned to a ’t’ or he’d have nothing planned at all. 

“Relax, sweetness, we’re letting the day take us where it may. Enjoy the ride.” 

He'd love having a reason to take you to whatever property he's renovating, hoping to share his vision for the place and getting your opinion on it all.

He'd even let you have a swing or two with a sledgehammer if there's a dry-wall that needs taking down. It's a great stress-reliever for you both, and there's nothing like hammering along in the time to beat of whatever playlist he's chosen.

He'd also order you a pizza, or whatever take-out you fancied, as payment for all your hard work.

You know he'd also been keen to help you wash up later, running you both a hot bath to soak in as you actually have the time to enjoy it.

And just between us - he knows Hotch and Rossi would have his guts his they found out - but he may or may not have left your cellphones on the bed-side table just to ensure you get an hour of peace, undisturbed...

Emily Prentiss

Ok. So. Emily loves having a day off almost as much as she enjoys working.

She doesn't require much in the way of plans. In fact, her ideal day off from the BAU involves you, a crossword puzzle, and your usual table by the window at the coffee shop around the corner.

It's right by the window, so you can bathe in the sun whilst you nurse your way through coffee after coffee.

The whole place reminds her of one similar that she spent her time in, in Paris. Just like then, she loves reading books, and completing the daily crossword with your help.

"Damn it. This is what time in Europe gets you - I forgot there's no 'u' in color. No wonder it wasn't fitting."

Emily also has a game she likes to play, watching the people around you, guessing what their stories are and imaging outlandish profiles for them all. It's a privilege to enjoy it when it's for entertainment and not out of a need to be aware of your surroundings or an ongoing threat assessment. 

Afterwards, you'd go for a stroll around the park and most likely visit the shops you rarely get a chance to.

You both spend ages going through the racks and modelling outfits for one another, knowing you need some new things to fill out your wardrobes other than work-attire. It's a like private treat for yourselves.

Once you're home again, I feel Emily would want to cook and would do a pretty good job when she has the energy. However, she is not above ordering takeout when you both can’t be bothered. 

After all, it gives you both more time together to lie in bed, with Sergio curled up between you, purring loudly as you take it in turns to pet him.

JJ

Depending on when you two got together (before or after Will), she would love to have a chance for the both of you to spend the day with Henry.

You're her family and the most important thing in the world to her. It's why she can't stop beaming as you spend the afternoon at the park together, running rings around the place and clambering all over the playground.

"I swear this kid is faster than most of the Unsubs we chase - and more sneaky too."

JJ would bring all your favourite snacks with her so you can all lie out on the grass and feast once your energy levels drop. She doesn't even mention the sugar content or how many E-numbers there are. You all deserve a treat, Henry included, so she's willing to put her 'mom hat' aside for a minute.

I feel like she'd also try and put her mom hat aside so you two can have some time without a child in tow. She'd try and make a last minute arrangement to get a sitter so you two can have some 'adult' time.

This normally involves making a reservation at your favourite restaurant, and insisting on you both dressing fancy just for the fun of it.

After all, you never get to play at being grown ups and just enjoy wearing something because it looks nice and not because you can run around in the field in it.

"I've had these heels for years and I swear I've only got to wear them like three times - and this skirt! I love this skirt."

Once you get to the restaurant, you spend hours just talking, drinking, and eating before taking a stroll on the way home.

You then curl up in bed and fall asleep to the sound of the TV playing your favourite movies, safe and warm in each other's arms.

Penelope Garcia 

This girl is the queen of relaxing. If she doesn’t have to be awake before noon then you can bet your ass she’ll be tucked up and toasty till 12:01. 

Once she's awake, however, she's a flustered mess, struggling to pick between her various plans for your time off together. There's just so much she wants to do with you and never enough time.

"What? I'm the queen of fun and I just want to make sure we make the most of our time together, sugar plum. I can't help it. I'm excited to have a day just you and me, not that I don't love the others too. I do, but you know, just having it be us is rare -"

You stop her rambling with a kiss, which of course makes her melt.

I feel like Penelope would always try and spend part of the day with you in the kitchen, baking a new recipe to take to work for the others to try.

She'd also love spending the day on the sofa with you, watching either a Rom-com or a Sci-fi marathon (depending on your moods).

Once the decision has been made, she'd insist on gathering supplies - AKA: onesies, takeout and face masks.

"It's the holy trinity of self-care," she explains, holding up your choices. "Now, do you want the tea-tree or coconut face mask?"

However, if you do feel like getting out of the house, then Penelope would take you on theatre trips - which are booked last minute but with amazing seats (courtesy of Penelope’s connections and slightly unorthodox know-how).

The others are still jealous after finding out she got you tickets to Hamilton, front row, with the original cast.

Dr Spencer Reid

You know Spencer is the kind of person that has a list of things the size of his arm that he’d love to do with you on a rare day off. 

You’d probably have to negotiate with him to figure out which ones you could reasonably do in just 24 hours - and you try to find a balance between appeasing his interests and yours. 

For example, you don’t mind sitting through a Russian movie festival if afterwards he agrees to let you wander around your favourite bookshop and spend as long as you want exploring the shelves - without him critiquing or spoiling the endings before you even have a chance to read the blurb. 

If you also happened to let it slip that you'd never watched every single episode of Doctor Who that's ever been made, then you know your future days off will be spent marathoning on the couch. 

"I'm just saying that he's underrated as the Doctor as arguably the narratives of his episodes are far better developed and reflect the point of the show, which is that the Doctor isn't perfect but rather a time-travelling refugee who acts as a healer, counsellor, and protector of the universe. It's why he calls himself 'The Doctor' ..."

He always looks so adorable when he gets excited about something he loves. It's hard not to fall in love with him all over again.

Apart from watching TV, you both also love spending days off on that couch, curled up together, reading your way through the stack of books you both had in your never ending ‘TBR’ pile. 

Spencer would love listening to you discuss whatever you're reading, doing his best to memorise the characters, plots, and your thoughts on both. It's the least he can do when you listen so patiently every time he starts rambling on about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is.

"Can I... can I borrow that when you're finished? I'm now curious - just don't tell the others, ok?"

Masterlist

[salemandco-mouthwashing]

!OOC POST!

Hello everyone!!! This is my first post on this blog!! On here I'll be detailing the OC this blog is about, any triggering topics involved, and probably more!!

First off:

Who is Salem?

Her full name is Salem Daniel! She is a nursing assistant hired to help Anya with her job. She's a bright, lively spirit who tries to match everyone's energy to the best of her ability.

She is closest to Anya, who she has a bit of a crush on. (Yay, oc x canon!!!) She is the least close to Jimmy. He just gives her bad vibes.

She is close to everyone else in this order: Daisuke, Curly, Swansea.

For random tidbits:

She is lesbian.

She wears a company-branded sweater over her scrubs, due to her being easily cold.

Her favorite Pokemon is Flareon.

Her and Anya were friends since high school, but only have started getting close recently.

Next:

Trigger Warnings!

If you're interested in Mouthwashing, you'll probably know everything triggering about the game.

But I'll be listing stuff here just in case.

There will also be extra things for my own lore!

* Sexual Assault/Rape

* Alcoholism

* Mental Health

* Abuse

* All sorts of different types of trauma

* Blood/gore

And more! So yeah, please keep in mind this blog isn't meant for the faint of heart.

Finally:

Boundaries!

This one is simple.

Please don't be creepy or weird or an asshole.

Otherwise, you can ask pretty much whatever you'd like.

However please note that I do block freely, and if you make me uncomfortable I will either ignore your ask or block you.

Anyways, that's it!!

- @craftyisacarnivore (the blog owner)

[disappearinginq]

I've been thinking about The Haunting of Hill House recently and was wondering if you wanted to talk about Steve anymore 👀👀👀 I re-read your snippets from your wip (especially the last one you shared) and I love it so much!

I've been thinking about how he was just as entrenched in the supernatural as his siblings but he doesn't know it. He didn't have the scary experiences as his siblings, he didn't hear banging on the walls or get haunted by his death. But he was just as involved as they were. Even more so in his adulthood, one could argue. He never stopped seeing ghosts (though he didn't realize / believe in them). I think Luke is the only one who had more regular encounters than Steve. Also, Steve's the one who made his career about investigating the supernatural (aka what happened to his family) and the others tried pretty hard to just move on. And if fans were operating in good faith, they'd realize that Steve was rational and that ghosts are not supposed to exist. If your younger siblings were so traumatized they convinced themselves ghosts were real, I don't think you'd jump to believe them. You'd think they were traumatized and that your mother was severely mentally ill. It just seems disingenuous that they hate him so much for not believing in ghosts. And very tragic that he's surrounded by the most ghosts.

idk I love Steve a lot. My brother and I have very opposite opinions on characters (we never like the same "controversial" characters lol) and I saw him recently and got fired up in Steve's defense lol. I tend to be sympathetic for the character with responsibility on their shoulders, and I think it's a shame that people aren't more sympathetic for Steve. Perhaps I'm expecting too much for people to understand that characters aren't always right in their assessment of other characters (unreliable narrators who?) lol

Anyway, your writing is amazing and I'm so glad you like Steve too!

(Also, I think my favorite POV is someone else looking at my favorite character, and your last snippet of Luke thinking about Steve is just *chef's kiss*)

Listen, I will bang on about Steven Crain as long as you let me. I love him the most and always have because yeah, he's the one I relate to. I'm not really the Responsible One in my family, I make every effort not to be, but I watch my friends who have to parent their parents, and raise their siblings when they're still kids themselves, and yeah. I get Steve. And what I love about him is that even when he'd rather not, he still takes care of his family. Even Shirley, who hates his guts. I have a snippet written somewhere about how the conversation with Leah goes when he's debating writing about Hill House to begin with, if you're interested.

SO - here's my theory/headcanon/how I decided to roll in my fic that has no name - Steven sees ghosts all the time. Everywhere. Like that's why his book series do as well as they do, it's because he doesn't always find live people to talk to, and he just doesn't know they're dead (and maybe they don't either) but he gets all these cool tidbits that have otherwise been lost to history because he gets the info from the people that were there and still haunt the sites. And the ghosts are just happy to talk to somebody, so all of his experiences with the dead are actually not half bad. And the story that I'm writing is him slowly realizing that.

And what we also see is that not all of the ghosts - especially once you left Hill House, were bad or even mean. And the ones in Hill House could be argued that they were corrupted by the house. His mom was.

And his reason for not wanting kids is because he thinks that the mental illness that has cost him half his family is genetic, and he's not wrong, and I think he probably tried to have that conversation but not really...seriously...with his wife. Like maybe he would make some vague attempts at 'you know, how do you feel about adoption?' or 'are you sure we're ready for kids?' but not really pushing back because Steve is fundamentally a bargainer. He even does it with Luke. "You can take the camera, and this case, but I need the iPad" when Luke burgles him in the pilot. And what Steven mostly sees is how living people fuck up. Like he was there when his dad was talking to the lawyer about how he was going to lose his kids if he didn't get up in front of the court, or at least let someone on the property to investigate. He's the oldest so he's got the better memory out of the rest of them of what actually happened that night, but he doesn't see it through the lens of "our house is haunted" it's "Dad was so afraid of something mom did that night that he didn't go back and look for her and he drove all of us kids away in the middle of the night and came back hours later covered in blood and wouldn't tell us what happened - ever." Now, in a world without ghosts...what are you going to think? Steven already knew something was wrong with his mom, he was seeing her at her worst every time. When she would stand and talk to the air and cry about whatever it was that it told her. I'm willing to bet that he could at least guess about the nature of what happened, if not the exact thing that happened, and then imagine never being able to talk about it. One sister is in flat denial that anything was wrong, or could be wrong with the rest of them, and then your next sister is about as communicative as a brick wall, and the younger two - something is just Wrong with them. They never really say what happens, or at least, I assume they don't. So all Steve has of that night is his dad freaking out, leaving his mom alone in the house in the middle of the night while he flees with the kids, and whatever it was, involved Nell and Luke and it was Bad. So he makes guesses based on what he thinks happens.

The only thing I can think of for the Steven hate (but Shirley gets none?) is that people misunderstand the genre and they're thinking "he should believe in ghosts because his mom is psychic which means that's a thing that can happen in this universe", and it's really not that kind of horror. The other part is when people don't understand what being the caregiver of someone who really doesn't want your help, or, constantly needs your help, is like. Like...that wears you down. No matter how much you love the person. Or they've never been the sober person in the room full of drunk people (and when everyone is thinking they're having these deep philosophical discussions it's really things like asking why is the sky blue).

I feel like I went off track here. Oh. Fic plot. SO - Steven is finding out that not only does he see ghosts but he can talk to them and interact with them, and because he can't tell what's real and what's not, that's why the House was dangerous to him more than anyone else. So then I decided that meant that supernaturally hypersensitive Steve was going to be affected by the House no matter how far away from it he was, because after the night in the finale, the Red Door is more metaphysical for him, and it becomes a door to him. In canon, he sees his mom dressed in red in the clinic. So I ran with the idea that Red Room Olivia could follow him away from the House, like Bent Neck Lady and Bowler Hat Man could follow Luke and Nell. And because it can haunt his dreams, it makes him sleepwalk, makes him see things that aren't really there, etc, and then his siblings have to look out for him for once, and they have to find a way to break their connection with the House, before it kills Steve and the rest of them.

Whew. See? I would bang on forever. Forever. This might be largely incoherent. It's been a long day and it's late and I am sleep deprived but STEVE CRAIN MY BELOVED.

Annnnnyway....thank you for the opportunity to talk about him more!

[cattyanon]

So you guys know how I said I was gonna make an AU inspired by the most recent page of THoaM? Well here's a drawing of Sonic at his angriest in this AU:

He's about as tall as a house and down for murder like this on account of you'd have to piss him off extremely badly for it to get to this (aka the drawing) point. Needless to say it's a very rare sight but since I wanna draw some midway points of the transformation since the mutations depend on how angry he is I thought it best to have a base to work backwards from, ya know?

Anyways a few tidbits of information about this state:

He's also got those clumps of magenta circles on his palms.

Just to confirm, yes his arms are still stretchy.

Despite his tail looking considerably fluffy it's actually sharp.

Dark Gaia energy seeps from his mouth.

The cyan colored parts of his body (not the light blue, to be clear) also glow but I was already at my limit making the magenta stuff glow. >3>

Can't speak actual words at this point, just noises. Unless that word is "Tails" but it's a strain for him and literally the only thing he can say like this.

Edit: I forgot to mention that he only has 4 fingers/claws at this stage!

ALSO since he's such a dark blue it's kinda hard to see some of the details so here's a version of this drawing where he's a much lighter blue:

[standupcomedyhistorian]

Good morning!

I've recently watched an INCREDIBLY informative interview that I think any Bo Burnham fan would enjoy!

Kate Berlant, Bo's frequent collaborator, was on Mike Birbiglia's Working It Out podcast and she went into great detail about the two projects she worked on with Bo as her director in the past few years: Her FX special Cinnamon in the Wind and her one-woman Off-Broadway play Kate.

Since I am currently conducting email interviews with people who had attended at least one of Kate's performances in New York City (PLEASE DM me if you'd like to participate!), this episode was basically made for me haha.

First the BIG NEWS Kate officially announced—her play will be in LA in the Pasadena Playhouse from mid-January to mid-February next year! (I hope I can get my finances together by that time to go 🤞🏼)

And here are some fun tidbits I had picked up while watching it:

Mike gets asked constantly if he knows Bo

Kate says her special was "sneaking under the Overcoat of Bo Burnham here" (how PERFECT is that!) and Mike calls Bo the "Avatar of Comedy" (is he referring to the James Cameron movie or just the representation of comedy in general? Both? Let me know what YOU think!)

Kate took 9 months to write her play...it is truly her baby! 😉

Kate said she took advice from Bo to focus on the STORY and not get bogged down in minor details (always good to keep in mind when writing!)

Kate's childhood nickname is Kitty (her parents still call her that)

Mike described the opening night of Kate's play as a "Murderer's Row of every comedian ever," including half the cast of SNL

Don't forget that I will have a LOT more content on Kate Berlant on my website in the coming weeks, including the audience interviews, a collection of ALL the Kate images I could find at the 3 shows I had attended, and a 10 Facts about Kate post.

I may also do a Kate Berlant primer...still considering that one. Please let me know if you're interested in that.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the interview, and keep it here for more comedy fun! ✌🏼🐔

[nourties]

hi heri!!

okay, so, firstly: i bought so much at the mall on saturday. a new pair of bright red patent leather ballerina pumps, a copy of the met issue of vogue, three cds, a repurchase of my favorite lip liner, a bikini, a plain white t-shirt (it's absurd how i didn't already have one), and a new pair of wired earbuds because i used the last pair to absolute ruin. i'd call that shopping trip a success 🙂‍↕️

secondly, i recently wrote this on the inside cover of my sketchbook, but i thought i'd haunt you with it, too, because my writing juices are not flowing, so i'm straight-up sending you diary pages instead:

"i am insufferable. i used to think that is what kept me alone. i now know that is false.

i am alone because i am not one, but many, and that "many" all want something different. one moment, i'll want a nice southern boy who'll give me his mother's pecan pie recipe. the next, i'll want a psychopathic scholar with that posho british accent who thinks i'm dumb because i'm american but keeps me around anyway. i want king arthur of camelot, but also dorian gray, but also darry curtis and hamlet and felix catton. throw venetia in there, too, who cares? i want a chess player, i want a model, i want an idol everyone else also wants, but then again, a hidden gem sounds nice, too. i want a boy who has the lips of a girl, but i want a girl who has a boy's haircut. and i cannot have it all. and i cannot be it all, either.

but one moment, i'm some ditz from the northeast, saying my a's all flat ("don't worry 'baht it"). the next, i am the psychopathic scholar. hey, don't i remind you of someone? do i look familiar? i get that a lot. an old classmate of mine once said i am dorian gray in a birthday card she wrote me. do i remind you of a daughter? a niece? a cough-syrup-induced hallucination? i am every stranger on the bus. i'm not on the cover of vogue, but everyone has seen me everywhere anyway. a party. a lecture. the train, both in the seat and on the track. i am not one, i am many, and also none. i am both at the same time. i want the bangs of jane birkin, and maybe the boots, too. i want the cheekbones of the original prettyboy actor, i forgot his name. and i want heath ledger's eyes. i look at everyone and everything in the world like they're all behind the glass of a case in the bakery, and i am a schoolboy with no more pocket money left but all the hunger.

i am insufferable. that is not why i am alone. and i have no idea what i was talking about just now."

thirdly: your brother has a sick tattoo origin story, and i'm still *so* jealous. i have two horrible tattoos as well, one on my right ribs, the other on my left inner thigh. they were both done by an ex-classmate of mine with an amazon tattoo gun on a stranger's couch, but his lore is much more interesting! and i hope things are still alright with the actor. i know he's older, but if he's good to you, and you're sure you like him, that's all that really counts for now, especially since it sounds like you're still pretty early on in this courtship :)

i hope you're well. i was reading my new vogue on the bus home the other day, and i saw an interview with henry taylor on the may cover and i immediately thought you'd love it. here's the part that i highlighted because i wanted to send it to you: "'like edgar allan poe said, 'i become insane with long intervals of sanity.' sometimes people wait till the weekend to get crazy, and you might want to get crazy on a monday instead of a sunday, but you can't because on sunday you're supposed to go to church. yes, but then you've got saturday.' what about saturday? i ask. 'that's when you em-bellish!'"

the full article is long, but this bit made me smile. embellishing, that's a nice way of doing things. and how fitting it is that i happened to come across this tidbit on a saturday.

this has been a long ask; hope your eyes aren't tired from reading. please keep me updated on your actor and whatever (and whomever) else you feel like divulging, i always love speaking with you!!

- 🫀

ps: i can't believe i never accidentally told you my name!! i think i'll be a little bit cheeky—it has to do with promachos. i feel like some sort of cryptid handing out riddles now :D

hello darling <3  sorry for the late reply !

very chic haul,  glad you treated yourself :)

ohhhhhh i loved reading this.  totally enamoured by how introspective & engaging your writing is, even in your diary !  you’ve captured that fragmented feeling so well —-  “i am not one,  but many,  and also none” !!!  like an echo of my own thoughts,  thank you for sharing <3

your tattoo origin story is just as fun,  & much more exciting than my own meticulously planned two.  things with the actor  (i shamefully like that this is becoming a moniker for him,  i feel like carrie bradshaw)  are still going well —-  though i’m afraid he’s looking for more commitment than i can offer at this point.  we’ll see where it goes,  i suppose.

i read the full henry taylor profile,  and adored it.  what a wonderful man.  & don’t apologise for the long asks !  i always love to hear from you. i’d offer an excerpt from my own diary in return, but i fear any eloquence disappears as soon as my pen hits that paper.

hope to hear from you again soon <3

(p.s.  think i’ve got it,  but i’ll keep it secret for you.  if i’m right —-  that’s such a beautiful name !  and very fitting for you,  i feel.)

[senju-sekhmet]

Oi, Tobione! If you get this message take it as a chance to rant about your OCs, tell us why you love them, why you created them, their tragic past, anything and everything you'd like to share! Go nuts! Then, to continue the love, sent this to other people who need a chance to talk about their characters.

Spread some Akiko love <3

AYYYYYY NEMOOOOOOO 🥺- but what if i wanna spread fukuko love

no jkjkjk, oh man. Akiko. my girl under cut for length!

I doubt I've ever publicy told she's based off of an old, old OC of mine. Her name (which has been picked for that reason) is a reference to it. However she's very much become her own persona by now, of course. 😅 I don't think I need to elaborate her tragic past here, that stuff is pretty much covered in Irenic, so perhaps a tidbit from her history before Irenic: Akiko used to be a rather reserved, almost timid kid. Fukuko took a liking to her since their earliest childhood days and pretty much became the reason Akiko got more extroverted and spoke her mind. It was then she also entered Tajima's sights pretty much, although with each sibling dying, Madara and Izuna were very set on training their remaining ones even harder. Like Fukuko, for her at first everything was a matter of staying alive - until their mother died (and if you read Irenic, you know why 😉).

About the only thing I have in common with Akiko is the sarcasm. I mean. It's just natural. Oh and she hates narutomaki, just like me, lmao. I love Akiko because I feel she's become a complicated, deep character in and by herself just through the story she's going through and the dilemmas she is facing. I love strong female characters, not just for their kickass-abilties, but also everything else that, yanno, makes a character strong. Akiko's faced a lot (and will go through more), she's not one of those characters with a trademark quirk or what you have, but, as I recently told my beta-reader, for some reason, gets under one's skin just as easily.

Oh man. I don't think I can handle praising my own creation more. 😭

I feel like I also should say something about my other characters in Irenic, so here's one piece for everyone:

Gotoku's vigour and insane love for taijutsu had a real life inspiration. (I'm not kidding). Out of everyone in my OC cast, Sato has the most tragic backstory by far. Fukuko intentionally ruffles her short hair to make it look messy. Everyone thinks it's natural, but nope. She's a bit vain.

I'm wondering how many people following me actually still read Irenic, but anyway! This was a lot of fun to do. Thank you so much Nemo, loved sharing this 💖🥰🥰

[haleigh-sloth]

Hey!

I've talked on this a bunch actually at different talking points, I'll link them all below:

Here

Here

Here

Here

What those posts don't really talk about is the irony factor, and new stuff has happened since I wrote those that kind of bolsters the irony so I'll do it here:

So out of everyone in the League, the only person who seems to ever be worried about Tomura is Spinner. Dabi and Toga have pretty much removed themselves from the situation with him and AFO, and aren't paying mind to it, because they've got other stuff on their minds.

The thing about Spinner being so selfless is that it's very VERY clearly a result of his self-worth issues. Him genuinely caring is not the issue, it's how far he is willing to go to "support" this person he's essentially replaced Stain with. He even parrots the same shit that AFO and Ujiko say about it all being "for Tomura's sake":

When we know that every time "for Tomura's sake" is said, it's always truly for AFO's sake.

So every time Spinner genuinely wants to help his friend who is struggling, his actions are always associated with something very negative happening afterward. Irony.

The whole "become a hero" narrative forced on him by AFO was a misdirect. Is Spinner going to save his friend?? He wants to, right?

Well, he's doing pretty much exactly what AFO wants him to do, and almost lost his mind in the process, for Tomura's sake. So yeah no, he probably will not.

The biggest hint at dramatic irony is Spinner holding onto Nana's hand:

Spinner holds onto that hand with a real genuine desire to help his friend. It comes from a place of pure care and concern. And that's really where it turns into irony, because that hand is nothing but a trigger for Tomura. It is associated with his deterioration on multiple occasions, and it is by no means a positive force in Tomura's arc (for now). I elaborated more on that here.

The counter argument I usually see is that during the PLF war, Spinner didn't have options and Tomura was gonna be possessed anyway. Of course! Duh. That doesn't take away the negative associations with it though! The hand is still bad! Bad bad bad.

Nana's hand-->beginning of full possession take over; Tomura's self hatred--->keeps him under AFO's control; Dead family member's hands--->trigger his self-hatred--->can't fight against AFO in possession. It's just a ton of awful associations with The Hand🖐🏼, and Spinner is the hand's delivery service straight to Tomura.

The last example is the recent choice Spinner made waking Kurogiri up with--you guessed it--the hand. Seemingly a great gesture, because he wanted Kurogiri to go save his friends. It seems like a great gesture, and it really is genuine, but it's funny because just as you'd expect, that hand was in AFO's plans all along and played right into what he wanted.

Microchip? Jeez. This time though, we didn't see the negative repercussions affect Tomura, actually, but rather everyone else. Toga is now on the worst downward spiral of her life:

and Touya, who isn't willing to let himself die until he sees his dad, was brought straight to--you guessed it--his dad!

This last tidbit with Spinner was ironic because he told Kurogiri to "save Shigaraki and the others", and the result was...well, that ^^. Toga saying she's gonna just slaughter everyone, and being given the pathway to do exactly that, as Ochacko is trying to talk to her. Touya getting to his dad, which means he's readying himself for his own funeral. And we as readers know more than the characters, so we can see the irony in it all. The fact that it is so genuine is what makes it that way. He wants to save his friends from the heroes--the heroes WE know want to save them.

Honestly, the best very short and brief description of the Spinner situation is this tweet:

I wish people would acknowledge that Spinner’s “heroic” desires are entirely ironic and that his actions are always detrimental to Tomura—which is why they’re ironic.