#spite isn’t healthy

[mikauhso]

Small fandom rant, feel free not to read.

I don’t really care what an artist has done as a person, unless they’re like literally hitler or someone who you’d punch in public for their crimes, I find it a bit sad and annoying how so many artists online are willing to tear down someone else’s art to say “I did it better.” It’s one thing to give constructive crit in good faith, and it’s another to make an OC-ified version of canon out of your love for something, but creating something out of spite will almost always ring hollow for me. I see so much good art duct taped to posts about how “here I fixed it” or “lol you can’t draw” and I think back to the time when I learned the phrase, “you’ll attract more flies with honey than vinegar.” It disheartens me to see artists and people I’d know to be kind and constructive not extend the same kind of care hey show irl to someone online based on their parasocial relation to them. It’s such a low-stakes game and people will act like a mid show having characters they enjoy is the end of the world, and in doing so will take personal snipes and make insults at the art instead of addressing the actual problem head on, because it’s easier to derail and funnel attention and love towards yourself instead of ask that others improve. I love redesigns born of love. I love rewrites that try to see an artist’s vision, but at a certain point I wonder if people even like what they’re making art about or if they’re slapping something recognizable over top of it in order to ride trends.

The internet normalizes clout chasing to the point where I feel like we do it almost instinctively. That little insult or sly comment at the end of a post, that’ll sway people to your side. Saying why you don’t like some person despite not knowing them. It’s valid to have your opinions but I wish people would act like they would in the real world. You wouldn’t go around and scream at someone who you saw post this one thing one time. You wouldn’t punch someone based on a rumor, or verbally berate them in a restaurant. Yet people post so much shit online and it’s so normalized that we don’t even register it as a sign to log off anymore.

I feel like social media is something incredibly important for communication, but it’s currently designed in a way that centers ourselves and how much dopamine we can get, whether it’s at the expense of others, ourselves, etc. And we’re part of the problem too, we refuse to change and recognize that maybe internet points aren’t worth it and maybe it shouldn’t matter what people think of us. And maybe it’s an opinion I have but I shouldn’t judge someone based on what fraction they put out on the internet of themselves. Maybe I should cook myself a snack or go out for a walk or sit on the balcony or in the yard, talk to a friend face to face. Again, I love what the internet has done for accessibility but every accessible thing is locked behind a service designed to ignore vitriol and anger towards one another.

I guess I fall prey to this too, but I’ve seen this pattern happen again and again and again. There are people behind everything that’s made, and unless it’s ai or something stolen, an artist put their time and heart into it. It’s part of the game to have tough skin but I wish it didn’t have to be a necessity because of spiteful people.

I guess I should add an addendum, this is about a pattern I’ve seen in many a fandom. This isn’t about the morality of a show’s crew or whatever, that’s a conversation for another day that I’m not getting involved in because the personal lives of others are no business of mine. Hah, there I go again. But in all seriousness. I’ve seen it in Hazbin Hotel. I’ve seen it with High Guardian Spice. Velma. Steven universe. The owl house. Any new show I’ve seen come out where someone decides to have a moment and say “I will create out of spite and a need to be seen.” I wish artists didn’t feel the need to ride trends and that we’d value each others’ work as much as something put out by Disney. But that too, is a post for another day.

[literaila]

i suddenly thought of this:

satoru, a 6'3 man, probably lays down on top of reader...

“satoru, get off,” you say, but it sounds more like a bad receiver. you basically can’t breathe.

“sorry?” he hums. “did you say something?”

“i’m going to—“ a puff of breath and your hands trying to push him off. “die.”

“but you’re so comfy. like a memory foam mattress.”

“was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“why are you so warm?”

“i won’t be warm when i die from suffocation.”

he lifts his head to look at your face, your glaring eyes and flushed face. “you look like you’re breathing,” he adjusts himself so his head is against your chest. “oh, yup! there it is.”

“my impending doom?”

“your heart. healthy as a horse.”

“you just keep insulting me with these comparisons.”

“you’re a proudly bred mare. the prettiest of the… band? stable?”

“herd,” you say, huffing again. “now i’m actually going to die out of spite.”

“a dramatic horse,” he adds, pretending like he isn’t actively plotting against you.

“make sure to move my corpse off the couch. i don’t want the kids to see me dead.”

“if you die, i’m dying with you. megumi could probably get his dogs to eat us”

“that’s disgusting,” you say, laughing just a little. “don’t talk about that.”

“you’re the one who brought it up.”

“cause you’re crushing me!”

“but isn’t that a nice way to go?”

“i’ve already planned my death,” you tell him, trying to pull his hair. but he’s got your hands pinned. “i’m going to be executed after i murder you.”

“uh-huh,” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “let me know how that goes.”

“satoru,” you whine, but you’ve given up the fight. “you know you’re basically a giant, right?”

he shakes his head against you.

“a giant psychopath,” you add, “with tentacles for hands.”

“should we test that out?”

“shut up. get off of me.”

“ahh, can’t hear you. i’m sleeping.”

“oh great,” you deadpan. “it’ll be so much easier to kill you in your sleep.”

he pretends to snore, but you can feel his teeth against your neck as he grins.

“you shouldn’t let your guard down around me, you know?”

“i think this would be a nice way to die,” he says, instead of answering. “as long as you’re the one murdering me, of course.”

“oh, of course.”

[lailols]

TXT as popular tropes!

Soobin: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

- maybe your moms were close friends so they decided to make their kids of similar ages friends too

- inviting you to each others houses for play dates and cooing over you

- naturally, y’all grew close

- going through life together and growing into the people you are today without losing the other

- genuinely, you know each other so well :(

- having PEAK communication because neither of you are letting small disagreements get between y’all

- as you get older and remain close, your parents start subtly (LOUDLY) shipping you guys

- bin’s family calling you guys a couple because wherever one is, the other isn’t far

- your family definitely calls the other if one’s not answering

- neither of you really put much thought into it, but knew that when imagining your future the other was there

- you both dated other people but never really felt a spark

- the confession comes randomly, just as you guys are talking about your experience with love

- maybe it was always in the back of your mind how you felt

- when it happened, everything felt right

- like every moment in your life was leading to this

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“No, I mean I love you”

“Yeah, I love you too”

- then you make out :D

Yeonjun: Rivals to Lovers

- you’re both gunning for captain of the dance team

- it’s for fun, but you’re both so damn competitive and passionate about what you do that it’s really not

- making playful jabs at each other that never cross boundaries but pushes the other to do better

- truly creating higher expectations for the rest of the team

- in spite of the competition, you both help each other out

- staying later to practice together, watching the others routine to critique, or making choreographies together

- the complements you share feel different because they go beyond the usual “you’re so cool” or “you dance so well”

- it’s deeper than that because you both understand the drive behind what you do

- the desire to be on stage and perform

- you confide in each other because you never fear the other seeing you as less of a dancer or a person

- you also make sure he’s taking care of himself, knowing his habit of prioritizing dance over his well being

- (threats are made to make sure he’s healthy)

- the team definitely placed bets on who they thought would be captain and you guys started your own bet

“Congrats, captain”

“Thanks, co-captain”

“So, what do you want?”

“I want you to treat me to dinner”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m paying for the next one”

Beomgyu: Musician x Muse

- the real loser lover yearners

- every song you write comes back to the other

- but you never tell :(

- you’re one of his biggest motivations

- you hang out once and BOOM three new song ideas

- he’ll hold little concerts for you

- playing songs he’d never share with anyone else

- you def have writing dates

- spontaneously breaking out into song with each other

- it’s like a game

- he “mocks” the songs you write (like he does with jun) but that’s just because you write bangers and there can only be room for one super talented friend in the room

- you’re on the front row for any set he has

- he winks at you while on stage and every around you screams thinking it’s for them but you know

- alternatively, he’s damn near on the stage from how close he is during your sets

- you want to sing? No Y’ALL are singing

- sometimes he’s louder than you even though he’s in the crowd and you have a WHOLE ASS MIC

- you guys cover each others song and it’s so :(

- like wdym the love of my life is singing a song i wrote ABOUT them :((

- the duet you guys release has everyone in shambles

- it’s a conversation between two people and honestly it’s the perfect way to confess

“This song is about someone special to me”

“Or, two special someones”

“It’s a conversation between them which is ironic because we’ve never really talked about it”

“But, you know, right?”

“I know”

Taehyun: Grumpy x Sunshine

- Tae isn’t a grump, he just doesn’t take bullshit

- add that to his generally “cold” exterior, and he’s sending a lot of people running for the hills

- which is exactly why no one can figure out how the literal embodiment of sunshine is his friend

- there is a difference between kind and nice, and you are definitely the latter

- you aren’t necessarily stepped on, but you take a lot more than you probably should

- you guys are basically polar opposites, so how do you fit so well together?

- it’s because you aren’t so different in the end

- in the comforts of your room, you allow each other to break

- to put aside the “characters” you play in the real world

- tae can smile and joke and laugh without having to deal with people gaping at the fact that he has “real” emotions

- you can complain and cry and yell without having people assume that the way you act is a lie

- in the comforts of these four walls, you guys become a mirror of the other

- it’s so sweet to have someone that you can just be completely human with

- no masks, no facades, no faking, just you

- in the beginning, most of your hangouts ended in one (or both) of you crying :(

- but now it’s normal for one of you to pull the other to your room to escape

- it eventually just turns into talking/gossip sessions

“So… how do you feel?”

“I feel like I want to take you out on a date”

“I’d like that”

Hueningkai: Best Friend’s Brother

- when you first saw kai, you’re pretty sure you died and went to heaven

- there’s no way an angel is opening the door to your gremlin of a friend’s house

- there’s no other explanation

- you guys literally just stand there for a good five minutes looking at each other before you’re so RUDELY interrupted

- after that, it’s sneaking glances at the other when you’re both in the same room

- it’s smiles and watching anime together cause no one else does

- kai finding any occasion to buy you a plushie of one character or another

- you suddenly being SO THIRSTY and having to go get water every hour on the dot and Kai just happens to do the same

- you guys get along so well :(

- so much pining between the two of you

- genuinely, your friend must feel like a third wheel even though you came to see HER

- Kai begging to crash your girl’s nights and being refused by everyone

- but then you’re back the next day because you “missed them” and since it’s not technically girls night, he can stay

- the way neither of you know the other’s feelings is so :(

- until his sister suddenly screams for one of you to confess and then storming out of the room

“So… about what she said…. Was it true?

“Yes, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same…“

“Of course, I feel the same! Have you seen yourself?”

————————-

I left Kai’s sister unnamed so you could be older/younger than him

I love txt so much :( I wish there was more writing for them

Please this is my first thing ever don’t be mean, I WILL cry

If you like it, let me know anything else you’d like to see :))

<3

[fadedin2u]

hi rose toy, could you write about ellie comforting reader with body insecurities? love your writing and have a good day!!

here’s a little drabble!! this was super therapeutic to write, thank u for the lovely request anon!

.��。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just- i don’t like myself, ellie. i don’t like anything about how i look,” you finally admit, sick of your own thoughts plaguing your mind.

ellie’s eyes are full of heartache as she says, “but i do. i like everything about how you look.”

the response makes your heart bleed more, and your lip trembles.

“you have to say that. you’re my girlfriend.”

ellie shakes her head, “hey. that’s not true. i’m not gonna say anything to you that i don’t mean, you know that.”

you look down, not wanting her to see the tears building in your eyes. “i just… i can’t help but notice how many fucking things are wrong with my body. with my face. with me.”

ellie frowns, “what makes any of it wrong? where’s the guide book telling you how you’re supposed to look?”

you get irritated in spite of knowing ellie’s good intentions, “everything tells me i’m supposed to look different than how i do, ellie. you’re the fucking beauty standard, no offense, but you have no idea what it feels like to not be.”

ellie’s eyes flash with hurt from your words, but she covers it well.

you sigh, ashamed, wiping your face, “i’m sorry, els, really. i’m not trying to pick a fight with you or make you feel like shit too, i just hate living with how i look everyday.”

ellie smoothes her hands over your sides, “do you want to know what i think?”

you take a breath and slowly nod.

“not everything about you fits the beauty standard. that’s true. but the beauty standard was created by rich, white men who are trying to make a goddamn profit off of women fucking hating themselves. so women just perpetuate this bullshit standard, because they feel like it’s attached to their worth as a human being, and everyone feels like shit, except for the dudes who’s pockets are getting fuller each time someone goes in to get a fucking lypo treatment or a nose job.”

you stay quiet, listening, even though this isn’t necessarily new information to you.

ellie takes a breath, “so, maybe not all of you fits into that stupid model of a fake woman, but how the fuck does that make you less beautiful? i love how you look naturally, because you’re fucking real, gorgeous, and human. i don’t want a fantasy girl that fits perfectly into a porn-brain infected, white, straight, limp-dick’s wet dream. i want you. i want how you look naturally, when you’re healthy and happy. because that’s when you look the most beautiful to me, no matter what.”

you take a breath. “so you’re honestly saying you wouldn’t prefer if i was more stereotypically attractive?”

ellie rolls her eyes, “that doesn’t fucking mean anything to me. i’m very fucking attracted to you, and that’s all that matters. i wouldn’t change a thing about how you look, ever.”

you nod slowly, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

“it makes me sick that you feel like you’re innately wrong in some way, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. if you’re giving yourself enough food, taking care of your body, and you’re happy, that’s exactly how you should be looking. okay?”

you know that ellie’s words don’t take away your feelings of insecurity, but it helps soothe some of the sting, the hurt.

“i’m sorry for making you preach self-love to me,” you say, smiling a little, trying to lighten the mood.

ellie looks serious as she says, “i will again. anytime you need it. i cant stand the thought of the most perfect thing in my life hating how they naturally look. i’ll say it a billion times if you need it, i promise.”

she kisses your forehead.

“do you think take-out would help you feel better? because i think it would.”

[merwgue]

Nesta and Cassian's relationship in A Court of Silver Flames is often painted as this passionate, enemies-to-lovers romance, but beneath that surface, it’s built on a foundation of toxicity, manipulation, and emotional neglect.

1. Built on Spite – A Relationship Fueled by Anger Their entire dynamic revolves around anger and spite. From the get-go, they’re constantly at each other’s throats, and while tension can create chemistry, their relationship is more about hurting each other than actually caring. Cassian treats Nesta like she's an obligation—a broken project that he needs to fix, but never with genuine understanding or empathy. It’s all about power plays and asserting dominance, not love or mutual respect.

2. Cassian Doesn’t Actually Care About Nesta Let’s be real: throughout the 800-page book, Cassian does very little to show that he actually cares about Nesta beyond her physicality. Sure, they have sex, but that’s pretty much the extent of their intimacy. There’s no real emotional support, no moments of genuine care where Cassian steps up to help her heal in any meaningful way. He just lets the sex cover up the massive cracks in their relationship and then moves on like nothing’s wrong.

For someone who’s supposed to be Nesta’s “mate,” Cassian does nothing when it comes to helping her through her trauma. When she’s at her lowest, when she’s literally crying out for help—like during that hike where she straight-up says she wants to die—what does Cassian do? Absolutely nothing. No aftercare, no emotional support, just a brush-off like her pain is irrelevant. It’s not just neglect; it’s downright cruel.

3. The Lack of Aftercare – Sex as a Band-Aid Speaking of sex, it’s almost always presented as a way to diffuse tension between them, but Cassian never offers Nesta the emotional aftercare she so desperately needs. It’s one thing to have a physically passionate relationship, but when there’s no care or connection after the fact, it starts to feel like Cassian is just using her body to soothe his own frustrations, while completely ignoring her emotional state. There’s no intimacy beyond the physical, no moment where he checks in on her feelings or offers her genuine support. It’s just sex, and then he leaves her to deal with the fallout on her own.

4. Emotional Manipulation – Cassian’s Power Over Nesta Cassian’s treatment of Nesta is manipulative in the sense that he uses her vulnerability against her. He knows she’s struggling, knows she’s dealing with massive amounts of trauma, but instead of actually being there for her, he pushes her to “get better” on his terms. He’s constantly throwing her failures back in her face, making her feel like she’s unworthy unless she falls in line with what he (and everyone else) wants her to be. It’s like he’s trying to mold her into someone more palatable, rather than accepting and helping her for who she truly is.

5. A Toxic Cycle of Hurt and Neglect Their relationship just repeats this toxic cycle of hurt—Nesta lashes out because she’s in pain, and Cassian either ignores her emotional needs or meets her anger with his own frustration. There’s no real communication, no attempts at understanding where the other person is coming from. It’s just a constant back-and-forth of anger and sex, with no actual healing or growth. That’s not love, that’s emotional neglect.

6. Cassian’s Role in Nesta’s Breakdown Ultimately, Cassian’s actions—or lack thereof—contribute directly to Nesta’s breakdown. He does nothing to help her when she’s in pain, when she’s literally begging for support. Instead, he’s more interested in their physical connection and getting her to conform to what the Night Court expects of her. That’s not a healthy relationship. That’s toxic, manipulative, and damaging to both of them, but especially to Nesta, who’s already battling so much on her own.

In the end, their relationship isn’t built on mutual respect or understanding; it’s built on spite, power, and neglect. And that’s what makes it so damn toxic.

[signanothername]

I was wondering what you mean when you talk about the fact Killer feels nostalgic still for Nightmare, even after being saved by Color

Like do you mean he misses Nightmare, or he think he still deserves to be tormented, or some fucked up mix of both.

I love the timing of your ask Anon cause I literally started making a comic about this very topic just yesterday chhchchc

And it’s a fucked up mix of both

Killer genuinely misses Nightmare, but not in a healthy way where he misses Nightmare cause he was a good influence on him and his life, but rather a sort of fucked up Stockholm Syndrome situation in which Killer has gotten so used to Nightmare’s presence and nonstop abuse that it just feels wrong to him that Nightmare isn’t in his life anymore

But it’s also his self loathing making itself known, Killer doesn’t feel like he deserves Color’s love and Kindness, Killer hates himself and thinks he doesn’t deserve saving, and even it goes as far as Killer believing he deserves to be abused by Nightmare, that it’s just Karma for what he’s done, which is all absolute bullshit, but that’s how self loathing can distort your perception of yourself and what you experience

But it’s important to also understand that Killer went through that abuse for so long that it became the norm for him, where his perception of how bad it is is fucked up, where he thinks Nightmare wasn’t “so bad”

So Killer sometimes tries to do little things that brings back that familiarity, like calling Nightmare still, doing little things he used to do with/for Nightmare, etc

And i’d dare say Killer wants Nightmare to show up and to spend time with him even, as fucked up as that is (Killer will be even more of a bitch towards Nightmare, but it doesn’t change the fact Killer wishes to see him still)

Which is why I want to bring up the “a little life update” comic, like don’t get me wrong, that comic is absolutely wholesome and it’s meant to show how Killer’s life changed for the better after being saved and that will never change

But the thing is, it’s also supposed to show Killer’s inability to stay away from Nightmare in a way

The comic was about Killer making a call to keep going in his healing journey by getting some things off his chest without any repercussions, but it’s also meant to represent some of the deeper fucked up conditioning Killer went through that he isn’t able to get rid of yet

That’s why i have Killer saying this specifically 👇

I mean, why wouldn’t Killer have a “good answer” for why he’s telling Nightmare about his new life?

You see that Killer’s very first thought as to why he’s telling Nightmare about his now good life is that he’s maybe feeling nostalgic

But he also mentions “longing”, “hope”, and “bad habit”

These words weren’t randomly chosen, they were all intentionally picked

“Longing” cause Killer longs for Nightmare’s presence in his life, he misses his presence in his life

“Hope” cause Killer hopes for Nightmare’s approval

“Bad habit” cause Killer used to be the one to give Nightmare all the intel he needed, and Killer thinks that it’s maybe his “right hand man” habit of giving Nightmare info that he’s telling him everything

Only to finally say that it’s “spite”

And that’s completely true, Killer is spiteful and he wants to have Nightmare see that he can live a good happy life

But notice how I wrote “maybe” twice in that page and a “maybe” in the page before it? Yeah that’s completely intentional

Because while “spite” is true, it doesn’t mean that “nostalgia”, “longing”, “hope”, and “bad habit” aren’t also true, they all are true in their own right

Emotions are complicated and Killer lost his understanding of his own emotions, so he can’t truly settle for one answer to the question of why he’s calling Nightmare

But nostalgia is definitely something he feels that prompted that call

But here’s the thing, know how I always say Nightmare has “moments of kindness” (i got an ask about what that specifically means so imma leave the ramble for it for that ask ycfhfh) but Nightmare is almost always horrible in his treatment of Killer, but there are definitely times I like to call “down times” in which Nightmare isn’t an absolute abusive bitch to Killer

Where Nightmare actually treats Killer with a bit of decency, where he lets things slide and leaves Killer alone, or where he and Killer actually spend time together without Nightmare being an absolute bitch about it

That of course doesn’t make Nightmare’s overall treatment of Killer ok at all, but these kinda things also contribute to Killer’s fucked up nostalgia

Like Killer would legitimately tell Color that “Nightmare wasn’t so bad” sometimes cause of those “down times” and Color is working on making Killer realize that no, in fact, Nightmare was so bad

But Color also doesn’t want to push his own ideals onto Killer, he simply wants to help Killer realize it himself, it’s not a good idea to force Killer or to make Killer feel forced to do something cause 1- it’ll make Killer immediately close off, and 2- Color is no Nightmare, Killer had been forced to do things all his life and Color wants to respect Killer’s wishes and autonomy, lest Killer’s fucked up perception of control gets even worse

And god give Color patience cause Killer’s nostalgia is something that’ll take so much time for him to get rid off, if Killer even wants that nostalgia gone

[flower-boi16]

A defence for Stolitz I’ve seen is that the relationship is supposed to be toxic at first, but eventually grows into being healthier. There are three reasons for why this defence doesn’t work.

This isn’t what the show is framing it as. Season 2 makes Stolitz into an UwU childhood friendship with the premiere, and the show frequently coddles and absolves Stolas of his mistakes as an artificial way to make him look sympathetic, while demonizing Blitz for not loving Stolas. If Stolitz was still portrayed as toxic in season 2 then why would the show constantly insist that Stolas did nothing wrong?

If the show really is trying to have Stolitz be unhealthy at first then have it get healthier over time, it’s doing an absolutely piss poor job at it by having the victim and and abuser roles SWAPPED in season 2, where Stolas is constantly UwUifed by the narrative while Blitz is portrayed as the abuser, when in fact the opposite is true. The show constantly victim blames Blitz for not loving Stolas in spite of Blitz having every reason to hate him, while Stolas is portrayed as an UwU soft boy who did nothing wrong. If the show is trying to make Stolitz healthier than it should actually pin the problem on the REAL abuser here; Stolas.

And this leads me to my last point; how exactly can the relationship “get better”? Stolitz was never a relationship based on a mutual affection between two partners, it’s a completely one-sided pairing with one of the partners being absolutely infatuated with the other while that other partner doesn’t show that same affection. Not to mention that Stolitz is a sexually abusive relationship. Stolas directly forces Blitz, Simone on a lower class than him, to have sex with him for his own pleasure, and the only reason why Blitz accepted it was because if he didn’t he’ll lose the thing he needs for his job to provide for himself and his daughter. In other words, Stolas is coercing Blitz, forcing him to sleep with him otherwise he’ll lose the thing he, again, needs for his job. THEN there’s the unhealthy power dynamic between the two with one of them being a noble and the other being a lower class imp. This was the foundation that Stolitz was ALWAYS based on. You CANNOT salvage a relationship like this. There’s no way you can make it become healthier because a relationship with this foundation can NEVER work. And the writers had to retcon their way into trying to make this direction work but it still can’t. Stolas showed no interest in Blitz beyond having sex with him in season 1, yet season 2 tries to push this idea that Stolas genuinely loved Blitz all along…? It makes no sense. Stolitz can’t get better because a relationship like this can’t possibly be healthy in the slightest. Plain and simple.

[aniseya]

i’m teetering back and forth between how helaemond was dealt with in the finale.

on one hand, i hate that they made him go there and yank her around. it’s not what i consider the same domestic abuse as daemyra, but it’s a form of abuse that is expected when a man descending into madness from trauma, power, grief, and the hunger to be good enough. he tried to drag her in a fit of rage and then the next time she threatened him with accusations and told him of his death, he couldn’t even bring himself to show the same rage.

i never expected helaemond to be healthy, because incest is NEVER healthy. but i feel like with the way they’ve been treating aemond this season to seem like the true villain of team green, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. like i love toxic pairings, but this just isn’t something natural for aemond to do, so it feels disappointing. it’s just there to reinforce that aemond is now the big bad and everyone else on team green aren’t as bad compared to him now. helaena is by the general audience’s opinion the purest character, so to have aemond hurt her feels like a way to hammer that home to the audience. not organic at all, not something in his character, just there.

which is why i’m thankful ewan played into helaemond in that moment on the balcony. aemond seems to regret what he did and the only time he’s shown properly crying is when he’s begging her to come with him. trying to appeal to the fact that they are same blood, that they understand each other when others might not. it’s acted and written like a proposal to fuck off to the ends of the earth together, phantom of the opera, anakin and padme, and gothic romance and all. and even when helaena refuses he still is crying, giving paper thin threats that he doesn’t mean, but just because he’s hurt by her rejection.

istg that balcony scene was perfect imo, in the sense that if it was just written a little bit better and didn’t have the looming connotation that aemond is mr villainous prototype used to make everyone who loved aemond from s1 feel humiliated for loving him and poke fun at helaemonds for enjoying their pairing. and now aegon is being propped up for god knows what, whitewashed in the sense that he’s given more development than aemond, helaena, and more characters above all. like nothing is coming from this, i don’t expect the writers to touch upon helaemond and that scene going forward whatsoever. it all felt like a way to get aemond stans to finally turn against him and to make helaemonds feel bad for enjoying the pairing to the point of making it popular. i’d say helaemond deserved better, but truly the entirety of the characters and the show itself deserved better.

so in the end, i may ship helaemond out of spite for what feels like a slap, simply because ewan delivered so hard for it. and i might not, because my efforts feel just so dull and fruitless that idk if i have the will to carry this energy and love for something that went so so wrong. it feels like got s8 where i needed time to recuperate and process everything before deciding what i wanted to take from it as a fan.

[the-void-within-the-form]

I don’t know how many people will see this, I don’t know how many people will believe this, but I want to put it out here anyways.

In the wave of bad news about the election, i want to say that im happy to see people supporting each other and sending others love and support. This isn’t the end.

it’ll become hard, really hard, im sure of that, but all we can do now is stay strong. Support others as much as you can, never give up, I’m proud of everyone who is reading this, thank you so much for being here.

Keep standing strong. It could be for spite, it could be because you’re afraid, it could be for other people, pr even just yourself. You can’t let the people who want you dead win my doing it yourself.

I’m scared too, in fact I’m terrified. The future is uncertain and I’m not sure how I’ll handle it. But no matter what I’ll keep living. I’ll keep living for everyone who sees this post, I’ll keep living for the people I love, If this post has a even a small chance of saving someone’s life that’s more than enough reason to keep living.

Stay safe, stay healthy, I love you all /p

[ghcstao3]

vampire x monster hunter……….i am so respectfully asking for more (im foaming at the mouth)

(original post) i shall do my best. again i got a little out of hand with word count. cw blood (of course)

-

John knows he should be happy about Simon's return.

He knows he should be happy to be reunited with his once-best friend even if it's after over a decade, because all this time he'd thought Simon was dead. He knows he should be happy that Simon would return here, of all places, to make amends, to catch up, to do whatever it is old friends are meant to. He knows this.

And yet... John can't help but feel on edge.

John is happy, of course he is. It isn’t often he’s surprised as he was when the knock at his door had been Simon. It isn’t every day an old friend returns from the dead. But he can only be fed the same excuses over and over so many times before he grows wary in Simon’s presence, which is really, truly the last thing he wants.

Being told I'm not hungry, I'll eat later would only be of any worth if Simon had said it once or twice, and not for every meal offered. It might be a cause for concern if Simon did not still appear consistently healthy and sated in spite of it.

Not to mention the sneaking out at odd hours. New creaks and groans have since developed in John's old house, ones Simon wasn't aware of, clearly, until the first time he makes his mistakes. It all just... worries John. Frightens him. Of course people change, and certainly over thirteen years, but it all seems to raise far more questions than there are answers that Simon is willing to give.

And then all of the sudden it makes too much sense, and John finds himself wishing Simon had never come back.

With the regularity at which people disappear in and around the town, John doesn't notice any difference after Simon's arrival. No increase or decrease, no change in occurrences that might tip John off to a new creature needing to be hunted.

This particular hunt was meant to be carried out like any other; John was heading out alone as the creature he was after didn't pose so much a threat to require help, it would be clean and quick, then he'd return home. He leaves a note for Simon, who may or may not have gone out himself, grabs his gear and vanishes beneath the cloak of a cloud-filled night.

Vampire, is what little information he'd been provided with, and so vampire is what he prepares himself for.

John has long since been a stranger to bloodshed. Really, it's necessary he not be squeamish, especially when so often he comes across scenes like this—this being the messy feasting of what could only be a newer, more inexperienced vampire. The unfamiliar hunger like nothing else usually makes them far more reckless when it comes to finding food.

This fledgling isn't any different, judging by the large smears and smatterings of blood leading right to John's culprit.

A figure sits hunched in the dark, accompanied only by the sound of tearing flesh. When John had first been learning, the lack of breathing that should be present when drinking so fiercely had made him uneasy, but now it merely serves as a reminder that he should hold his own breath, lest he catch the vampire's attention.

John wields a silver dagger, creeping forward as carefully as he might in approaching a wild animal—these monsters are just about the same, anyway.

But John underestimates how elevated this particular fledgling's senses would be. They pause the moment John takes a step toward them, sitting up straighter, immediately alert. Their face remains obscured, but John can see them cock their head, presumably listening for his pulse.

He expects an attack. Expects a fight so as to not become the next course.

What John hadn't expected—or maybe a subconscious part of him had—was for the figure to rise slow and cautious, head bowed in what John might dare call shame. What he hadn't expected was for the vampire to turn on their heel and have John met with none other than—

"Simon?"

His head remains hung, silhouette still impossibly imposing. It's hard to discern much in the low light, but John imagines Simon's irises are currently a scarlet red as opposed to their usual warm coffee brown, if evidenced by the blood that covers his face and drips from his chin.

"Johnny." His voice is hoarse, but it's most certainly Simon's. He can probably hear the way John's heart picks up pace, be it out of fear, or be it out of use of a nickname Simon has so far avoided since their reunion. "Johnny, I'm sorry."

“Simon, wha—“ John frowns and finds his guard falling, yet his grip on the hilt of his knife only tightens. “I don’t—“

“I can’t help it,” Simon rasps, begging. “I can’t… I learned how to control myself, I did, but when I’m around you…”

Simon is directly in front of John in the blink of an eye, frigid hands curling around John's, around the dagger. He allows the tip of the blade to dig into his abdomen, unflinching as it pokes past clothes and just barely breaks skin. John holds steady, more than capable of pushing it further, but unwilling to hurt—or kill—Simon until he's given a reason to.

Never mind the mangled corpse on the ground just a few feet away.

"How long?"

"Johnny—"

"How long, Simon?"

Simon doesn't meet his eyes. They're dark either way like this, in this lack of light, but John still feels like something isn't quite right about it.

"A few months. A year, maybe. Two," Simon confesses. "It's all muddled."

For reasons John can't describe, somehow it stings knowing this... affliction has only been short-term. Because instead it could have been an explanation for Simon's disappearance—let alone that of his family's that he still often wonders about. Because instead it could have been a reason for Simon to have stayed away for so long even as an adult.

But it's not.

"Then why come back now? And why come back here?" John hisses. "You're a fuckin' dafty, y'know that?"

Simon's mouth parts, and for the first time since his arrival John finally catches a glimpse of his fangs; razor sharp and promising a swift but violent death for John should Simon's instincts get the best of him.

He then seals his lips in a thin line, swallowing whatever words he may have had prior. Simon offers a solemn nod of his head, his theme of shame so insistent.

Against John's better judgement, he retracts the knife. Tucks it away, and forces space between them. The overwhelming stench of iron is beginning to make him nauseous.

Softer, much softer than Simon deserves at the moment, and far too reminiscent of a past long gone, John says, "You were supposed to be the leveller-head between us."

Simon huffs. "'Be easier if constantly listening to your pulse wasn't driving me mad."

Oh.

"Oh." The pounding in John's ribcage does him no favours in picking up speed again. Then, suddenly realizing where and why he is, John attempts to steel himself, clenching his jaw and taking deep, slow breaths to calm the flutter of his heart. "Well, quit listenin' then."

Simon regards him curiously, in a way so painfully familiar to a past life.

A silence stretches on between them, tense and riddled with uncertainty. John tries, pointedly, to ignore the elephant still in the room, but between the blood and the smell and the looming issue of them being a vampire and a monster hunter, it's nigh impossible.

But even still—John thinks it'd be less right to kill Simon now, than to let him free. To bring him home.

John sighs, suddenly and immediately overcome with fatigue. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger for just a moment, rubbing the skin to unsuccessfully self-soothe. He wishes there was some sort of... protocol, for this. Maybe then things could be easier. Could make more sense. Just for once.

"I'm not—" John pauses, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I won't kill you, Simon. Not... now, at least."

Simon nods. "That's all I can ask for."

"Good, because that's all you're getting." It's a lie, and they both damn well know it, but just a little longer would John like to linger in ignorance. "Now just... clean this up before anyone sees. We'll talk about this more in the morning, alright?"

"Alright."

John offers a tight smile, whether or not Simon can really see it.

"Right. Goodnight, Simon."

"Goodnight, Johnny."

John hovers only a second, hooked on that nickname as he's always been, before he finally pivots on his heel and starts off the other way, turning a dutiful blind eye like he really shouldn't be doing.

He had missed Simon, he really had—but he's afraid to start wondering if this will all be worth the trouble, in the end.

[attorneytrash]

pure, concentrated spite for elon musk is a valid reason to vote btw. hatred isn’t always a healthy motivator but in this case i, a moral authority, think it’s fine

[ephemeralzenith]

fate vs agency: altan trengsin and fang runin

The Phoenix outright states: ‘You humans always think you’re destined for things, for tragedy or for greatness. Destiny is a myth. Destiny is the only myth. The gods choose nothing. You chose.’ But is that true?

Altan and especially Rin were doomed by the narrative the moment Speer was razed, the moment they were whisked from their homes to a lab or an abusive household.

The thing is: nobody actually wanted them. They were dirty Speerly shaman trash; Altan was experimented on and Rin was abused for her entire childhood. Even in Sinegard, they were both discriminated against - Altan’s a freak of nature who is used for entertainment even if people fear him, and Rin is only her skin colour - even though they both worked so hard and DESERVED to go there. Nobody wanted them until they went to the Cike.

This fuels the anger that has been curated since they were literal kids. Of course they’re angry, and of course they don’t know how to express that in a healthy way - they’ve ALWAYS been abused, they’ve never known anything else. Obviously that doesn’t excuse some of the things they’ve done because of this anger (see: Altan’s abusive behaviour and Rin’s genocide), but the people around them, and society as a whole, failed them. There were two children, maybe Speerlies, but they were two hurt and scared children.

They did choose some things, but they were doomed the moment that Nikan decided to place them in Shiro and the Fangs’ hands. They were so angry, so hurt, so scared - they never would know anything else, really.

Fate doomed not only Rin’s fate, but the possible future she’d have with Nezha. They loved each other, but they could never have each other. Rinezha are the star-crossed lovers, the Romeo and Juliet, the Pyramus and Thisbe, the fleeting touch, the only kiss, the necessary betrayal and the leaving one behind. They are a walking juxtaposition - fire and water, general who wants absolute destruction and government official/ruler who needs Nikan to be safe for the future, poor and rich etc etc. And yet, they have these soft moments because they know how war destroys; they love each other in spite of all of this, but they can never have each other, because Nezha is the last Yin left, and Rin will never live in a world where Hesperians rule her home.

The Phoenix (and Rin by extension, I guess) doesn’t believe fate exists - that there is a choice for everything - but literally everything ensured Rin and Nezha would never be happy and in love: their race, their positions in power, their ideologies, their families, their relationships with other people, their thought patterns, their beliefs, their relationship with their power/shamanism… literally everything would’ve fucked them up. And yet, here they are defying fate, only to fall back into it again. Love is not enough.

The same goes for Altan and Chaghan. They can never have a healthy relationship where Altan doesn’t die. Altan cannot live, he’s self destructive and miserable and angry. He lives only to destroy and when he isn’t destroying, he wants to die.

They could’ve made choices, yes, but nobody makes rational choices in war. They were limited by the tools society gave them, and yeah, they were awful people, but fate itself doomed them before they were old enough to think.

:(

[averyangrypossum]

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the

Flowerbroadcast AU!

Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.

The full-body one

And the one with both Vox and her

And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.

Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.

Was this relationship healthy?

NO!

Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?

Yeah.

But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,

“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.

So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.

Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.

1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.

2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.

3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.

Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.

A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!

Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!

Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!

Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?

Cuz it really doesn’t matter!

This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.

Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤

But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.

Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!

Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~

[ouijabard]

WC Fandom Callout/Hot Take Time!

(I would like to preface this by saying that I am a member of the Warrior Cats community myself; I love it here and there are so many amazing and talented people. This post is by no means saying that everybody here is guilty of this, nor is it meant to be an attack or show of ill will on those who are. <:])

Okay, so I have a small grievance to air:

Never, in all my years on the internet, have I ever seen a community that matches the sheer amount of negativity and petty spite the WC fandom has, especially towards its own creators.

Exhibit A:

WC fandom:

The Erins: *actually give us the most pretty, fun, and unique canon design we’ve ever gotten, which CLEARLY IS A CHIMERA AS THEY INTENDED DUE TO HOW HER BLACK FUR IS LONGER THAN HER ORANGE FUR (LOOK AT HER CHEEK FLUFF)*

WC Fandom:

LIKE. Y’ALL.

(I would also like to mention that while yes, the inbreeding is gross and warrants criticism, when you have such isolated populations interbreeding, it was always bound to happen, especially with such complex and forgettable lineages (of feral cats, no less (y’know, animals that form family trees like that naturally?)). Honestly? It’s been an issue for so long that I really think we should just stop pointlessly whining about it, accept it (as long as they aren’t too closely related/it isn’t immediate family incest), and move on.)

I get constructive criticism and civil discourse is healthy in a fandom, but there’s no need to be so blatantly and endlessly petty and spiteful, especially towards the people who try so hard to give you the thing you enjoy in a consistent and timely manner and live up to its legacy. I agree that there are definitely things they’ve messed up on or could do much better with and that they should prioritize quality over quantity more, but c’mon. Honestly, y’all will just find anything to bitch about. 😭 Besides, enough with the pessimism and belittlement! Fandoms are supposed to be fun, and trust me, you will have much more fun if you just let yourself be excited and see what happens. Even if it does feel somewhat like toxic positivity to say so, there's no joy in just being a critic all the time. :]

Anyway, sorry for the exasperated ramble, and thank you for coming to my TEDtalk. 🙏

[madbard]

“Ford is irredeemably self-centered” this, “Ford’s a bad person” that, etc…

Alright. Tell me then.

What was he supposed to do?!?!

Be a better brother? Ford loved Stan! When they were children, Ford took care of his brother as best he could. But Ford was also a kid in a bad situation, and there were limits to what he could do. Not to mention that Stan relied so heavily on Ford that it honestly wasn’t healthy for either of them. Stan couldn’t stand by himself and he wasn’t trying. They were both struggling; maybe pin that on the parents instead of the kids.

Not be angry at Stan for messing with his experiment? Of course Ford was angry! This was his dream college; in that moment he thought his entire future was crumbling. I assure you, if my sibling had ruined my chances of getting into my dream school I would have been more than a little upset, and I’m sure the same goes for most of the people reading this. Of course, Ford did hold onto that anger for considerably longer than was justified, but in this case I would argue that Ford less “held a grudge for 10 years out of spite” and more “never got the chance to make things right with his brother and held onto that anger because it was better than the nauseating guilt over that final argument, the uncertainty at times that his brother was even alive.” (Which is not to say that Ford isn’t spiteful. Our man has plenty of spite. But him being spiteful is not the only thing going on here.) Which brings us to our next point.

Stop Stan from being kicked out? How?! That household does not appear to have been a safe place for either of the brothers. Should Ford have gotten himself kicked out too? Should he have known exactly what to say to talk his father down - the man who just violently threw his twin out of the house? Ford didn’t kick Stan out. He just wasn’t able to stop it from happening, and that’s not something any teen should be blamed for.

Behave himself when reuniting with Stan at the culmination of the worst period of his life thus far? There’s stress. And then there’s being dangerously sleep-deprived and at the mercy of a horrifying demon that betrayed you, leaving you alone in a shack in the woods with no one to call for help except your estranged brother, who’s complaining about a mullet, of all things. Yeah, I’m not going to say Ford’s behavior was anything other than atrocious here. But really. How well would you handle that?

Thanked his brother? Stan could have destroyed the universe; it makes sense that Ford’s upset! He’s also had literally decades to stew in the terror and fury he experienced in those last moments before falling through the portal (something which almost certainly would not have happened if it weren’t for Stan). Again, Ford’s not acting like the world’s best brother here, but it’s understandable.

Ford’s not perfect. He can be arrogant, spiteful, and bitter. He makes serious mistakes (often due to his own hubris) that put himself, his loved ones, and sometimes the entire universe in grave peril. Ford is, in fact, deeply flawed. That’s part of what makes him a fun character! It’s also what makes him a well-written and believable character. Yes, Ford acts like a jerk. He does so quite often.

Ford also spends nearly the entire narrative bouncing from one deeply toxic situation to another, desperately trying to survive and make life better for himself and his family and watching as his brother makes mistake after mistake - sometimes making choices with severe, negative consequences on Ford’s own life.

Ford is doing the best he can. He’d not a bad person. He tries to be good. He tries to do the right thing.

He just fails sometimes.

Don’t we all?

[kings-hand-31]

sleep like the (un)dead

——————————————————

in which Gaz sucks at sharing a bed, and Soap gets stuck sharing with him every single time. finally, he can’t take it anymore, so he does something about it

just tooth-rotting, sweet and a little silly fluff

~1900 words

————————————————————————

Gaz is by no means a small man.

He’s tall- standing a few inches taller than Soap- and muscular, too- easily holding his own against his teammates when they spar- but whereas the rest of them are built stocky, Gaz’s frame is much leaner. There’s still a healthy layer of fat over his muscles, just enough to have him damn-near glowing with health, but he just hasn’t got the same bulk as the rest of them.

Somehow, though, in spite of him taking up the least amount of space, he’s surprisingly the worst at sharing a bed.

Soap should know because he’s the unlucky bastard that’s stuck with him.

In any other situation, he would jump at the chance to be close to him- probably more than he ought to. He hangs around him at base and sticks close to his side whenever possible on missions, but the second it comes to crawling into bed with the man to sleep, he’d rather be on the floor than next to him.

It’s not fair, really.

Ghost and Price sleep like wooden boards, unmoving and stiff and waking up in the same position they fell asleep in. They don’t flail about or steal blankets or shove the other off the bed in the middle of the night- which sounds like a bloody fucking dream to Soap- but their crime is more heinous than anything Gaz has ever done to him.

Every single time the need arises and beds are shared, those sleekit sons of bitches pull rank to end up in the same bed, leaving Soap with Gaz.

Now, Soap is plenty guilty of shifting in his sleep- maybe even a little nonsense rambling on his worse nights- and there was that one time he sleep-walked to Ghost’s side of the bed and stared at him for the better half of an hour- but that’s nothing compared to Gaz. The man sleeps like the fucking undead, grunting and shifting and tossing uncoordinated limbs here and there. And, yeah, Soap may be a little more fond of him than he should be, but there’s only so much more sleep Soap can lose and only so many more questionably obtained bruises he can take, fondness or no.

Besides, after this particular mission, he needs as much sleep as he can get, and he’s already got too many bruises to add any more to his collection.

Which leads to his problem.

Gaz.

He’s already had to steal his blanket back half a dozen times and even duck another elbow aimed for his head. Only a few minutes earlier, he took a hit to the skull hard enough to rattle his teeth but luckily not hard enough to concuss, but he’s not looking for another goose egg to join the one slowly swelling up on his temple.

And it’s reasonable to want his blanket to stay on his body.

He blinks blearily and squints across the space of their hotel room, eyeing Price and Ghost as best he can in the darkness. Both of them are done up like corpses, Price with his arms perfectly straight and unmoving at his sides and the only thing Ghost is missing is the coffin, arms crossed over his chest.

It takes everything he has to not sneak out of his bed and worm his way between them like a child crawling into their parents’ bed after a nightmare.

A splayed-out hand comes into contact with his chest, no doubt leaving a red handprint through his thin sleep-shirt, and he can’t help the bitten off curse that follows. “Hell’s fucken bells, Ky,” he whispers like the other man might somehow hear him in his sleep. “Keep yer goddamn arms tae yerself oer ahm gonna tie them tae yer body.”

Gaz, of course, does no such thing.

It isn’t until another hit lands, this one on his bad knee, that he snaps.

Gaz was already well across the halfway point of the bed, leaving Soap damn-near hanging off the edge, so it doesn’t take much to close the distance between them and weave their legs together. With the precision expected of a demolition’s expert, he snaps his arms around Kyle’s body, pinning his arms to his sides and diffusing all of his future attacks.

“Stay feckin’ still,” he hisses under his breath, but he doesn’t remove his limbs lest he give him the chance to get a hit on him again.

But surprisingly, Kyle doesn’t fight the hold.

If anything, he shifts closer, close enough to press their chests together.

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat. His chest refuses to expand as Kyle’s rises and falls against his in an even and slow dance. It takes almost a full minute before his body decides the risk of passing out far outweighs the risk of waking Kyle up, and he draws in as slow of a breath as he can manage, lungs screaming for more.

Kyle smells clean, a mix of the generic hotel soap and the honey-scented lotion he refuses to leave base without, and the scent invades Johnny’s nose without his permission.

But even worse is the way he captivates Johnny’s eyes; it’s impossible for him to drag his eyes off of Kyle’s face, much less close them and get some much needed sleep.

His face is more relaxed than Johnny has ever seen it, and he can’t help but greedily drink in the sight, cursing both the low light of the room and the fact that he can’t release Kyle to search out his sketchbook. He can’t risk being attacked once more or, much worse, waking Kyle up.

So, he lets his eyes wander. He tries to memorize every inch of his peaceful expression with the hope that he can recreate it with even half as much beauty as Kyle has in the morning.

And if his eyes linger the longest on Kyle’s lips, wondering how they’d feel pressed against his, how they’d taste, it’s hardly his fault. Kyle has the most beautiful lips he’s seen of anyone, man or woman, and they deserve to be admired.

Kyle sighs contentedly. He wriggles his arms free from Johnny’s, but instead of trying to shove Johnny away, he drapes one of them over his waist and worms the other one between his body and the mattress. He pulls Johnny even closer, trapping the warmth their bodies create between the two of them.

Then, he curls forward to burrow his face into Johnny’s neck, nosing against his skin.

If Johnny couldn’t breathe before, it’s impossible now.

He can’t stop himself from bringing a hand up to cradle Kyle’s head against his neck.

Ever so gently, he lets his fingers brush up and down the nape of his neck, the calloused pads of his fingers running over the smooth skin there. He lets his eyes fall closed, so he can focus on memorizing the feeling of his skin against his, the weight of his head resting on him, and the warmth of his soft breaths fanning across his shoulder.

Eventually, he drifts off, lulled to sleep by the soft sensations.

—

“Tav?”

The sleepy whisper draws him from his light sleep.

He hums, peeling his heavy eyelids open. It takes a moment for his mouth to push out a soft answering, “Yeah?”

“Why’re we cuddling?” Kyle mumbles against his skin, yet he makes no move to remove his face from Johnny’s neck or to put distance between their bodies.

“Hmm? Oh, ye hit me in tha face,” Johnny answers like that explains how they ended up curled into each other, encompassed by each other’s warmth, limbs tangled together.

“Oh.”

It takes a moment for Kyle’s sleep-hazed mind to make sense of Johnny’s words, his voice gravelly with sleep and his accent thicker than usual, but eventually, he mumbles out a quiet, “Sorry, love.”

He shifts, lifting his head up just far enough to press a kiss to the bruised bump he left on Johnny’s forehead before dropping back against his chest. He burrows his face into Johnny’s neck once more, and he’s gone again, snoring softly and leaving Johnny bewildered and blushing.

Johnny turns to bury his burning face into his pillow, mind running faster than he can follow. He can still feel the ghost of Kyle’s lips against his skin, and he hopes the feeling never fades.

He tells himself Kyle was just asleep, that he wouldn’t have done that if he was more awake, but it does little to quell the racing of his heart or the hope burning in his chest.

“Tav?” comes Kyle’s quiet whisper once more.

Johnny’s cheeks burn hotter at the realization that Kyle is awake again. It feels like he’s been caught, like Kyle might somehow be able to read his mind and know what he’s thinking.

“Yeah?” he croaks back.

“Your heart…” Kyle shifts in his arms, moving his head to rest on Johnny’s chest and pressing an ear to the place just above where Johnny’s heart is hammering against his ribs. He listens for a moment, brows slowly knitting together the longer he listens and the more he wakes up. “S’beating kinda fast, love.”

“It’s nothing,” he answers all too quickly. His mind is painfully blank as he tries to come up with some reason that would make sense, but the panic lancing through his body makes it hard to think.

Something must finally click in Kyle’s brain because those beautiful lips of his quirk into a sleepy smirk, eyes half-lidded and blinking slowly, and he lifts his head just far enough to press his lips to his thin sleep-shirt in the spot his head was resting against only moments ago.

Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest like it’s trying to free itself of the layers between it and Kyle’s lips. His mind goes even more blank; he can do nothing but blink at Kyle.

“Ah love ye,” he blurts out, barely remembering to whisper, lest Ghost and Price hear him from across the room.

Kyle’s smirk dips into a soft smile, and he lifts his head once more, this time pressing this kiss to Johnny’s lips.

His lips are just as soft as Johnny thought, if not more, as they move against his, and they taste of toothpaste more than anything, fresh and minty.

Already, Johnny can’t wait to kiss him again and again, so he can figure out what they taste of once the toothpaste flavor has faded. There’s a hint of something almost sweet buried under the mint. Johnny can’t wait to taste that flavor in full; he can’t wait for the day he gets to lick that taste out of Kyle’s mouth.

Kyle breaks the kiss much sooner than Johnny would like. He brings a hand up to cradle Johnny’s face to keep him from pressing their lips together again.

“I love you, too,” he whispers, smiling. “Now, sleep, Tav.”

Johnny grins back stupidly wide.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls Kyle on top of him and tangles their bodies together once more. He guides Kyle to bury his face back into the crook of his neck and presses one last kiss to Kyle’s temple.

Maybe sharing a bed with Kyle isn’t so bad after all.

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thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed :)

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