#he’s helpless in his feelings to a certain extent

[thatgirl4815]

Does anyone else think the fandom tends to assume Sand has less agency than he does?

Sand has been characterized as deeply committed to the people that he loves, even when they hurt him. Yes, Ray has mistreated him, but though Sand’s feelings have gotten in the way, he COULD leave at any time. He has self respect to a certain point, and he was ready to leave Ray if Ray kept stringing him along.

Imo Sand isn’t quite so helpless as people make him out to be. His feelings are often taken advantage of, but that doesn’t make him helpless to Ray’s advances. That was a big concern I had in earlier episodes that he would never react to Ray’s shitty behavior. But he does. Just because he comes back to Ray and forgives him more than once doesn’t mean he is without a choice. Sand is capable of walking away, even if it is hard for him.

[ddarker-dreams]

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.” 

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure. 

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?” 

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off. 

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.” 

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity). 

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.” 

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him. 

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do. 

“Do I get any final requests?” 

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?” 

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible. 

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale. 

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both. 

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade. 

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it. 

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.” 

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam. 

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.” 

[darkcircles4lyfe]

To Build Something Else

Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…

It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.

In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.

And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?

I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.

To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.

[essektheylyss]

This was entirely tangential to this post from @utilitycaster which is why this is its own post, but the tags made me think about what feels most compelling about Liliana to me, and it's really because there's such an interesting approach to redemption in terms of the sunk cost fallacy to be had there.

There have been plenty of comparisons between Liliana and Essek, but I don't think they're really situations that can be compared. Essek had done one horrible thing (that was of relevence to the story; it is implied that he's taken other actions that he feels were wrong, but we don't know what those entail nor do the Nein care enough to ask, so per narrative convention, they do not matter for analysis) and was only still involved in it to the extent that he couldn't take it back, so to survive he had to continue covering his tracks. But he was also incentivized to otherwise act in alignment with the group that was not those on behalf of whom he had made terrible choices, because he was still living in the Dynasty, and as such wasn't actively perpetuating those actions beyond the cover up.

Liliana on the other hand is acting with the Vanguard and has been furthering if not personally committing atrocities on their behalf for a number of years, continuing to the present. Like Essek, she believes her involvement in the cause to be a difficult choice that was made for noble reasons, and now can't see a way out. But she is also relieved to be told to stay, though at the point that they discuss her leaving, she is alone and outside the immediate range of contact or oversight from the Vanguard. It seems reasonable that she could disappear with a decent headstart, and perhaps become untraceable quickly enough to be safe from anyone following. With this context, returning to the Vanguard with the intention of feeding information to the opposition feels like the riskier choice, but crucially it is the devil she knows.

I actually liken this more to Cassandra de Rolo than Essek. Cassandra was manipulated against her brother by the Briarwoods, but this was also spurred by having watched Percy seemingly leave her for dead. There are legitimate reasons why the Briarwoods, as the people who rescued her and then kept her alive for many years, are the easier option in which to place her trust. She knows what she's getting from that vantage point and how to handle it. She doesn't inherently have faith that someone she only knew as a young and helpless child, who ran from the hardships she's faced, would have the strength or willingness to do what she has found necessary for survival.

I think that Liliana's actions are more willful, not least because she was not a child nor in mortal peril when she joined the Vanguard, but she sees herself as having made difficult choices when only faced with difficult options, and I do think they have been difficult. She didn't want to leave her family; she doesn't want to hurt the young Ruidusborn under her care; she is probably genuinely sorry that innocent people were considered a necessary sacrifice for what she sees as the greater good. It is psychologically taxing to feel as though one is always picking between bad options, which is a significant contributing factor for why people buy into a sunk cost for so long. And over time, those hard decisions become easier, because you know what to expect from the outcome. Though Liliana is well aware that she might be killed for a misstep among the Vanguard, she already knows how to act to maintain their favor, but how she might be received on Exandria by those fighting the Vanguard, even with the Hells vouching for her, is anyone's guess.

This is a very real reason why people remain in cults and struggle to push back against this kind of conditioning: because the decision to leave feels more immediately perilous than the decision to stay. (On a certain level making these kinds of choices and actions habitual is a fundamental basis behind a lot of military conditioning.) And if you are acting in the interests of your own survival, but that survival comes at the cost of that of countless others who have not, in fact, made any threat or harm against you to begin with, then is the nature of your survival morally defensible?

This analysis isn't a question of whether Liliana will commit to her role as double agent and turn fully against the Vanguard, or even which one of these is a "better" story; this is about what the story might say if she doesn't. Yes, she might commit to a different path than the one she's on and make an effort to redeem herself, but it is also a perfectly coherent and interesting story if she doesn't.

[napakmahal]

Anon because I feel like I’m about to say smth cringe lol but how about a fic with a (possibly Psych major) reader that’s got a holistic view of the world with Tadashi? Would be interesting to see what that information brings concerning Baymax’s plan of care and how a relationship would form with Tadashi like dat ya dig

Idk mostly inspired by Natalia Lafourcade’s song María La Curandera (it’s in Spanish, you’ll have to search up the translation if you’re curious!) also growing up in an immigrant household with care alternatives to things maybe a doctor would not take seriously/ not being able to connect with a patient due to beliefs and or language barriers.

Can I just you’re actually so real for this. This is NOT cringe pookie okay. First of all, love my psych classes but also second of all my family is so holistic. We’re from the Philippines and the hospital is reserved special for if you’re dying. (Btw that’s bad, go to the doctors please)

You don’t fight with your boyfriend…like ever. You don’t like fighting and he thinks fighting i childish. But that’s not to say you two agree on everything. Exhibit A:

“At least with my remedies I know I won’t be overdosing on cough syrup.”

“Baby, with all due respect I’m not using herbs to get rid of a respiratory infection.”

Another thing, you love Baymax. You really do. You were there to help build him, he knows you personally but he has nothing to do with your health. And that irritated Tadashi to no end. Flu season had come around and it seemed like everyone was getting sick. Including you. The basic fever, cough, headaches, and disgusting amounts of phlegm hacking out of your throat. Yet, you denied any help from your boyfriend’s healthcare robot.

It made him upset because you could get better so much faster if you let him use his extensive medical knowledge on you, and yet you still said no. But nothing about your ideologies had created such tension until recently. When he caught you doing something he deemed unfathomable.

Almost a week into you being sick, he’d seen you chopping onions late into the night after making his lemon tea.

“What are you doing?” Tadashi looked over at you after coughing up a chunk of bloody phlegm from his own throat.

You sniffed, clearly congested. “Cutting onions.”

“For what?”

“My socks.”

“I’m sorry?”

Surely he must have misheard you. You and him had been together for years and he knew all about your home remedies. There was a stained food processor in your house from when he had joint pain in his wrist and you had him eat turmeric paste. When Hiro had unknowingly given him stomach flu you went out and bought efficascent oil and rubbed it on his stomach. He’s seen you gargle salt water, chew on peppermint, put baking soda on bee stings, eat raw garlic, and drink cranberry juice for your menstrual problems but that one took the cake.

“Do you want some?” You’d asked it so innocently but your tone could have changed if you’d seen the look of utter disbelief on his face.

The both of you had been sick for a week in an endless cycle of eating strawberries, and oranges, taking magnesium, and eating spoonfuls of grainy raw honey. All of that to him seemed fine. Even he understood to a certain extent you couldn’t just take medicine all the time. But when he offered to buy cough syrup, ibuprofen for throat pain, Tylenol for cough headaches, and other flu medications you shut it down. He was free to take all of those things to make himself feel better and he swore it did.

But you were in so much pain and it seemed like whatever you were doing wasn’t helping. Just that morning, Tadashi rubbed your back while you had a 10-minute coughing fit that was so bad there were streaks of blood in your spit. You’d cried when a pounding headache hadn’t left and he felt so helpless knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

Tadashi stuttered. “W-Why are we cutting onions for our socks?”

“You put them in your socks and then you sleep with them on, my mom swears by it. But if you have like sensory problems that’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Baby don’t you think- maybe you should just take something for it?”

You scoffed because you already knew where this was going. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. It’s just you’re so sick.” His voice dripped with concern.

Just as he’d said it you dug your face into your elbow and started coughing. The loud, raspy, crunchy kind of cough. Almost like the universe was on his side. Then came the cough headaches. The one thing you had allowed Baymax to scan you for and nothing else. A build-up of pressure from consistent coughing and sneezing in your head could cause pounding headaches.

The second he saw the grimace on your face, Tadashi jumped up from his study table and ran over to you. Pulling you in for a hug and gently pushing his fingers through your head. But that was also the time he decided he couldn’t take this anymore. His girl was in pain and crying over a sickness he could use his brain and his bot to figure out how to cure.

“I can’t take this anymore.” He confessed still holding you. “Please, will you let me give you a Tylenol?”

“T, no.”

“Why not? It’s so obvious you’re hurting. I know you don’t like taking medicine. I get that, but you just aren’t getting any better.”

You gently lifted your head off Tadashi’s chest and looked up at him. “So are you and you’ve been taking medicine.”

“But I feel like I’m getting better.”

“Hunny, you threw up an hour ago.” You deadpanned.

He racked his brain for a positive way to spin the horrible retching experience. “O-okay but that’s-um, that’s the body’s way of making itself feel better.”

You two were going in circles. But Tadashi was not backing down. He was adamant that you get better if it was the last thing he did and you knew it. Last year Hiro got sick with a particularly horrible kidney infection. So bad that when he’d tried to walk to the restroom he collapsed on the floor physically unable to move. After that none of your friends ever really saw Tadashi for almost two weeks. Right after school, he’d sprint home just to take care of him. That was his thing. Your boyfriend lived to take care of people.

Some people in the world don’t care about anything you’ve ever done and something you will do. Like doctors. Doctors don’t need to know how good or bad of a person your friends think you are in order to take care of you. Finding people like that is rare. Tadashi is one of those people.

And you, one of the people he loved and cared for most in the entire world wouldn’t let his extensive knowledge on healthcare help you feel better. And no matter how many times you reassured him, he couldn’t help but feel like you being sick was his fault.

“How about this,” He suggested, moving his hand from your head to your face. “I will do your onion-sock thing if you let me give you cough syrup. Just one spoonful and then we’ll drop it. Sound fair?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you slowly nodded your head. Out of relief, you were going to let him do something about how you felt, Tadashi leaned down and kissed you right then and there. It was extremely counterproductive and he couldn’t have cared less.

That night, you let your boyfriend spoon artificial cherry-flavored Robitussin into your mouth. And he let you put loosely chopped pieces of white onion in his socks while he slept. For the record, neither of your immune systems ever really recovered in that one night. And yet-somehow, you woke up feeling the best you had in over a week.

[synthetickitsune]

Pretty Skirt, Handsome Man ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x gn!reader (w/ f!anatomy) Genre: smut Summary: When your boyfriend so kindly informs you he'll be wearing a skirt when he comes home, there's only one possible way the night will end. Word count: 1.5k Warnings: unprotected sex, shua wears a skirt A/N: so idk if what he wore today was an actual skirt but it was close enough for me to get obsessed with the idea

Fingers pulling on his collar, sharp threats attacking him as he laughs and pulls you away from the door that he barely manages to kick closed with you all over him. Kicking off his shoes is even more complicated, but he manages although it costs him a look that could kill a man. 

“Baby slow down, please,” Joshua grins in a way that suggests he means the contrary. On a different occasion, you’d probably do as he told you, knowing he wants the opposite, but today - well, you’re in no position to waste your time on teasing him. No matter how entertaining he might find it.

“No,” you say simply as you push his shoulders. Hard. He lands on a sofa and hurries to sit up straight with a disbelieving laugh that gets swallowed by your lips. You pull him into a messy kiss as soon as you straddle his lap. 

Truth be told, he did sort of expect you’d go wild for him - just not as wild as you were.

“Babe, you’ll hurt yourself,” he warns, seriously this time. His hands steady your hips and give you a firm squeeze. You take a second to glare at him. 

“I won’t,” you say.

He resorts to laughing again, helpless as to what he should do with you, as riled up as you were. Not like it didn’t have a certain very pleasant effect on him as well. He was well aware you were crazy for him as he was with you, but this? This was new. This made him feel tension in his abdomen and lust in every fiber of his body.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” he reminds you with a cocky smirk, “We’ve tried this before.”

You groan and grab his wrist. He lets you. He doesn’t flinch, only watches with amusement as you unceremoniously guide his hand between your legs. “It’s different now.”

The difference is immediately obvious the second Joshua’s fingers find your sopping center and it wipes the smirk off his face. His throat dries up. First - he didn’t expect you not to wear anything under your shorts, and second - all you did was pull him into a sloppy make out session once he walked through the door. And yet here you were so wet and horny you were all over him and demanding like he’s never seen before. 

“All this just for me? Just because I wore a skirt for you?” he muses and watches with awe as you grind down on his fingers.

“It’s a very pretty skirt and you’re a very handsome man, Joshua, fuck-” your voice breaks as he slips his fingers inside you with a malicious grin on his face, “Need you inside.”

He coos at you in response. His foolish attempt at not succumbing to your pretty sighs even as his cock twitches impatiently under the fabric that’s quickly getting soaked. You’re dripping all over his fingers and your thighs. He doesn’t have to move at all while you ride his fingers and grind your clit on the palm of his hand. Wet sounds fill the room, mixed with your voice getting higher with desperation. His name leaves your lips over and over like it’s a chant. It’s intoxicating. Who is he to deprive you of his cock when you’re begging for it so eagerly?

You basically tear off your shirt and shorts in a second. Then your hands are on his hips, pulling off his boxers and hitching up his skirt as soon as he pulls his fingers out of you. He doesn’t understand the gibberish you’re muttering, but every word he does recognize is one curse or another. All he can do is lean back and let you take control. His hands run up and down your thighs. If he knew the extent to which you’d appreciate the outfit, he would have let himself be talked into the skirt much earlier. 

Every single thought flies straight out of his head the moment he feels your slick cunt rubbing on his dick. He takes in a sharp breath and grips your hips for dear life because he doesn’t fully trust his body at the moment. 

“How are you this wet, honey?” he asks a little breathlessly while trying to calm down.

“It’s too wet, Shua, need your help” you push against him more, easily grinding your clit against his tip as it slips between your folds. 

He sees the tremors wrecking your body and while it will be a nice punishment to have you get off by just grinding on his dick some other time, the feeling of your juices pouring down his shaft has him swearing under his breath and working fast to grab his cock to line it up to your entrance.

He lowers you slowly, focusing his last bits of sanity on the fact you were not stretched too much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, although the expression on your face is anything but pained. His eyes close and he takes a deep breath. Or that was the plan - ruined by your lips on his. But he would never deny you kisses.

He wonders, briefly, where did this submission come from. His hands squeeze your hips but offer no directions, letting you ride him as you please. You fuck yourself on his cock hard and fast and it’s exactly what his body craves. You feel so good around him, so perfect, just what he needed after a long day. A sweet treat for his hard work. It takes a moment before he realizes the whines he hears aren’t yours - they’re his.

“Needed you so bad, Shua,” you whimper between the assault on his lips, “Ever since you sent me the pics and told me that’s what you’ll be wearing on the way home.”

Your fingers fidget with the first few buttons of his shirt, yanking it open and clawing on his bare shoulders to ground yourself, to get leverage.

“Take it, baby,” he hisses in pleasure, “Take what you need.”

He tries to be mindful and not hold you too hard, but with you bouncing on his lap so eagerly? Joshua has a one track mind to climax. He’ll let you do anything, anything if it gives you pleasure. The marks can be covered, and he’s not thinking about the consequences anyway.

He’s not thinking at all. You’re clenching around him, not giving his cock - or him - any space to run away from the pleasures of your body. Selfishly he indulges in it, he massages your ass in his hands and helps you keep the rhythm. He’s trying to hold out, trying to find something to distract him because he wants to last - he wants this to last forever. He’s not usually this sensitive, but your warm pussy feels so good around his dick after he danced in the cold the whole night. You’re moaning and mewling right into his ear that he feels so good that you need him, you’re keeping him right here with you in this moment, drowning out even his own pathetic whines begging you not to stop.

You don’t, and your release comes fast and unexpected and he finally - finally - lets go and pounds into you through your high and soon he follows after you. Only he can’t stop. Sweet words of reassurance spill from his lips, responding to your weak pleas as he fucks you and himself to the edge of overstimulation.

He’s completely spent when he slowly lets you rest with his cock deep inside you. His hair sticks to his sweaty skin. It feels a little disgusting, but then you move and his concern is fully on you. You, who just… laugh.

“That was quick,” snickering, you look at him. Your body is shaking, otherwise you seem fine though. Joshua scoffs.

“You still came first,” he reminds you with a quick peck to your forehead. Then whimpers and squirms when you clench around him.

“I won’t next round, don’t worry,” you give him a lazy wink. 

“There is going to be a second round?” he challenges, slowly caressing your naked back. You lay your body on his and he’s basking in your warmth and reassuring weight grounding him and adding to the pleasant buzz in his body.

“Yeah, you let me wait for so long, so I deserve it,” you hum as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

“It’s been an hour,” he rolls his eyes.

“More if you count the concert as well,” you counter.

“Did you get horny watching the performance,” he teases - but at the same he’s genuinely curious. You slap his shoulder.

“Of course not, I enjoy the performance. Then get horny after,” you explain, pointedly meeting his gaze.

“Well, in that case, my pretty doll, you deserve the second round.”

[patrophthia]

impossible | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: FLUFFFFF!!! established relationships! slightly suggestive but nothing bad i promise,, mention of reader getting hurt (quidditch :< ) not proofread

wc: 2.4K

originally posted on AO3: 23/07/2022

Theodore didn't miss a beat before landing by my side, casting a charm for the curtains to close behind him. "How are you feeling?" he asks and when I made to answer, Theodore slipped in another question. "How are you doing?"

He seemed to have caught himself, smiling timidly at me when he apologized. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to hear your voice."

I don't think he meant it much because I know full well that if he could, he'd asked me what I'm thinking of and hang on to every word I give him.

And when I laughed tiredly. Theo asks once more, his tone light. "Am I amusing to you?"

Theodore isn't quite as intimidating when you were his girlfriend. I smile when I tell him: "very."

Why were the Ravenclaws so aggressive whenever they played against the Hufflepuff? Theodore didn't care for it then but he surely did now. Now that I was playing for the Hufflepuff against the Ravenclaw. 

Theodore stood by the sidelines, watching Blaise cheer way louder than he should've been for a team that wasn't theirs. A part of him was happy that his friend was close enough with me to support me outwardly while the other part of him found it embarrassing that he was associating himself with him. 

But he regress, turning back to the quidditch pitch as he watch the game play out. 

Theodore understood quidditch to a certain extent (maybe a lot more than he thinks since Draco spend a decent amount of his time droning on and on about quidditch during their second year), he knew that the beater were the one with the bats, the chaser is the position that I play, the seeker is the position that Draco plays and that was all. He thinks.

Now back to his point, why was the Ravenclaw so aggressive towards the Hufflepuff —nay, why was every house so violent towards the Hufflepuff whenever they have a match against them. 

Theodore watches on, silently praying that his girlfriend wouldn't get hurt in the field as I raced towards one of the hoops after my teammate passed over the quaffle. 

I turn sharply, barely avoiding the other Ravenclaw keeper. My head cocking to the side, testing the keeper just for the fun of it. My arm stretches backwards, quaffle in hand, ready to shoot at any given moment.

And when I finally let go, the quaffle barrels into the loops as if it was born for this. It's a shame that the bludgers were also born for this. Hitting the end of my broom the second I let go of the quaffle. 

Theodore could see the look of surprise on my face from a mile away. Then came the helpless realization that I would be landing on the floor in a matter of seconds, only hoping that someone would save me before I fall to my demise. 

The panic sets in first. Then Theodore was on his feet. He can't recall how many second has passed since I'd fallen but can recall himself reaching down the stairs and into the pitch. Blaise was following him. So was Draco. So was Pansy, he thinks. He thinks Pansy cared about him and his girlfriend enough to have the decency to be distressed. 

He thinks and thinks and thinks. And silently panics, not knowing what's to come when he comes face to face with me. Finding me out cold. He felt himself being pushed aside. Madam Promfrey rushing over. He didn't argue. Watching her work as he prays that I get to live another day. 

•••

I don't remember much. I don't know what happened fully but I do know that we won. And somewhere along that process, I got my ass knocked off of my broom by an aggressive bludger.

That's quidditch for you, I guess.

A chorus of voices is the first thing I hear when I woke. They were talking or arguing –I can't really tell. I'm too doped up and groggy to fully take in my surroundings.

They were talking about something (or maybe someone). Me, I think. I think I'm their topic of conversation but that would be narcissistic for me to assume. Although, my thoughts were proven correct when Malfoy brought attention to my now conscious self listening into their words.

Theodore didn't miss a beat before landing by my side, casting a charm for the curtains to close behind him. "How are you feeling?" he asks and when I made to answer, Theodore slipped in another question. "How are you doing?"

He seemed to have caught himself, smiling timidly at me when he apologized. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to hear your voice."

I don't think he meant it much because I know full well that if he could, he'd asked me what I'm thinking of and hang on to every word I give him.

And when I laughed tiredly. Theo asks once more, his tone light. "Am I amusing to you?"

Theodore isn't quite as intimidating when you were his girlfriend. I smile when I tell him: "very."

He didn't make to reply, checking every inch of my face for any injury that Madam Promfrey might've missed. His hair a moving mop of fluff above his head when his head shifted too quickly. 

I prop myself on my elbows, reaching out to touch it. "You grew out your hair."

Theodore tilted his head, easing the stretch of my arms. "I didn't mean to," he says first, leaning into my hand when they brush against the side of his cheek. "I'll cut it soon." 

"Don't," I tell him, Theodore sits himself on the empty side of my bed, his own hand reaching up to cradle mine. "It looks good on you." 

The look on his face turns unreadable, eyes shifting away from me. "I was so worried." 

"I'm sorry," I say, sitting up properly in my bed. "Did my team win at least?" 

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. "Yes." Gaze turning back to me. "They did." 

"That's good," I murmured, trying to savor every second of this moment. "Did you cheer for us?" 

"No," he answers honestly. "I was too preoccupied with thinking that you were dying." And then, "sorry," he smiles so softly that my heart aches at the sight of it. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"I think I can forgive you for that." Theodore smile never falter, face turning in my hand, his lips pressing a kiss against my palm. 

"That's good," he says, he says knowing that I would always forgive him no matter what. "I can't even begin to fathom what I'd do if you didn't forgive me." 

"It's a good thing I forgive you then." 

He nods. "Really good," his voice barely above a whisper. When my eyes grow tired, barely able to keep myself awake for long seeing as my body was still recovering. "I think it's time for you to rest." He drops our hands, linking them together. And softly, he asks, "is there anything you need?" 

I could feel a smile pricking at the corners of my lips. "A kiss?" 

Theodore hesitates, every part of him growing shy. "A kiss?" A year spent together and he still is hesitant about a kiss. I nod. "A kiss is all you need?" 

"Yes." 

Theodore releases my hand, his own reaching out to cup my face. Palm pressed flat against my skin, his thumb making quick work at caressing my cheek while the rest of fingers cupped my jaw. "A kiss it is." 

He leans forward, just enough for his lips to comfortably press against mine. The kiss soft and tender, slowly easing me into him when I made to kiss him back, Theodore pulls away. 

"A kiss," he says, as if he was reminding me that that was all I'd asked of him. "Now rest, I will give you millions more when you're well." 

"I'm quite well," I tell him tiredly, fighting sleep under the warmth of his hand holding my face. "Where's my millions more?" 

"Where ever you want them to be." He presses a kiss on my forehead. "I will give them to you. But not now." Not now when I felt so terribly enervated.

"I'll be back in the morning." He tells me finally. 

Sleep takes over the minute Theodore slips away from me, his hand away from my face, his voice far from my ear, his presence that I could no longer sense. Succumbing to sleep wasn't hard, it was no where near hard for I knew that when I woke the next morning, I will once again be basking in everything him alike. And I can truly rest with that. 

•••

Theodore exudes a kind of comfort that I can't categorize. But if I'm being honest, I don't even know where to start when it came him. 

He was tall, quiet, smart, that much was true. The other parts that people didn't mention as much was how handsome he was, how soothing his voice sounds despite the rare usage of it and when he does use it, the way he words his sentences can charm anyone into giving him what he wanted.   

The door unlocks before the two of us, the boy's Slytherin dorm now my third (because my own dorm is my second) home. The room was empty, saving for the mess scattered round as proof that five teenage boys were living in that very dorm. 

We step through, Theodore locking the door behind us, and dropped our book bags. I head for the bathroom's sink, wanting nothing other than a nice cold splash of water against my face. 

When I returned, Theo hands me a pair of soft cotton plaid pants and one of his old oversized shirts. I think our next actions stems from the fact that we've long grown used to one another. 

Silently slipping off our clothes with no embarrassment, no outwards reaction, nothing but small smiles when we catch the other staring at us. I slipped on my pants shortly after Theodore finished changing, him walking forward so that we stood face to face. 

Theo took the shirt he'd given me from where I'd last placed it, helping me into it with soft eyes. The bottom hem of the shirt falls around my waist, not having yet adjusted it when he took my lips in his. 

This is the millions more kisses he owes me, I think. 

He pulls away, hands hanging around the exposed skin between the shirt and my cotton pants. "Are you sure you're okay, baby?" He asks for the hundredth time, the only different being the pet name that he uses now. And when I told him that I was, he asks: "Shall we take a nap?"

I'm okay. But I will like to take that nap. I tell him and he nods, tugging me with him towards his bed. Theodore shuts the four posters, cloaking us in with green silk. From where I laid on his bed, I could hear the lake water lapping against the window, brushing by the glass pane with each movement it made. 

Theodore laid besides me, turning at an angle which he could see me clearly. "You owe five sickles."

"For what?" 

"Parkinson and Draco." 

"You're kidding," I said first, and when all he did was smile at me, his hand coming to lay on the dip of my waist. "Surely not." 

He squeezes the flesh of my waist. Surely yes. 

"It's barely been a month," I said, finally accepting my faith. "How could they already break it off? There was so much tension between them." 

"That's your fault for reading between the lines," he teases. "I told you it was only a fling and you didn't want to believe me. Now look who's five sickles richer." 

As if he won't spend that five sickles on me. "I'll pay you tomorrow then?" I ask him, feeling his other hand that wasn’t resting on my waist reach for my own. "Will that be okay with you?" 

" 'course," he says. "All is well when it comes to you." And then, "Are you sure you're feeling well enough for class tomorrow? We can skip if you aren't." 

"I'm fine," I tell him, squeezing our now linked hands, trying to reassure him as much as I could. "Plus, I'm failing potions. I don't think my grades can handle any more of me missing classes." 

Theo frowns. "You are?" He asks, playing with the hem of my —his— shirt. "Why didn't you say something?" 

"Because, it's nothing. And I didn't want to bother you," I tell him. "I know you're busy with your studies, I didn't want to be a burden on top of that." 

His hand falters, turning to a halt. Dark eyes narrowing, searching and assessing, trying and trying to see if I was being serious. And when there was no indication that I was anything but, he says: "never in a million lifetimes could you ever be a burden." 

"If you ever need help with anything, say it," he tells me. "Say it and I’ll be there. My time is yours. I'm yours and I will move mountains to give you anything you could ever want." 

Sappy. This is so incredibly sappy. But I still smile nonetheless, I still kiss him until I feel breathless. I still store every single sentence, word, syllable, letter in a special box in my head that is uniquely made up off of Theodore. 

Theodore who can't seem to treat me like the other boys have treated me. Theodore who goes over the top with everything he does when he wants me to feel cared by him. Theodore who would never make me feel anything less than beautiful.

Theo props himself up on one elbow, leaning over me with his lips pressing against mine, his other hand slipping beneath my shirt and laying flat against my tummy. His lips drags down peppering kisses from my jawline and down to my neck. 

When my legs press against him, wanting more and more of what he could give me, he pulls back, leaving the scent of him in his wake. 

"I know we're young," he begins. "But I wish more than anything to be your husband, I want to give you everything that I have. I have no intention in doing anything else, my love." 

Theodore paused, as if he was letting me know that if  I didn't want him as much as he wanted me, he will let me go just to make me happy. And then, softly he says, "I hope you feel as irrevocably in love with me as I do you."

—from bee: happy valentines days everyone!! i hope you’re spending it with you loved ones!!

[meta-squash]

I'm obsessed with the parallels between Small Worlds and Children Of Earth.

For Jack specifically, CoE is the same events as Small Worlds played out on a much larger scale.

Something is happening with a child/children (Jasmine/the world's children). Turns out, it's an alien enemy Jack has seen before (Lahore 1909/Scotland 1965). It is established that the alien enemy is very very powerful and difficult to beat, and that they have made threats to the entire human race if their demands are not met. Both enemies demand children, and promise that the children they want will "live forever." A man is sacrificed as, essentially, a warning or an attempt to keep Torchwood away (Mark/Rupesh). Torchwood attempt to figure out different ways of beating the enemy. In retaliation, the enemy kills Jack's lover (Estelle/Ianto). The alien enemy also kills another person in its way (Roy/Clem) despite attempts to prevent the death. All this forces Jack to realize the extent of the threat and his grief also emotionally backs him into a corner. When he is faced with an ultimatum, he ends up painfully sacrificing a single child (Jasmine/Steven) for the good of the world, despite the pain it causes himself and the child's mother. He leaves feeling helpless, feeling like he had no other choice, with everyone angry at him and angry at himself as well.

I think what gets me the most about the parallels is the death of Jack's lover. It's obvious that Jack did and still does genuinely love Estelle. He says as much to Gwen. And he definitely feels guilt about her death; if he hadn't reunited with her, she would have been safe. I think his guilt and his feelings of responsibility towards both her and Jasmine and, ultimately, the world, are what cause him to sacrifice Jasmine to the faeries so readily instead of trying to negotiate or find another way. He's mourning the loss of Estelle and because of that grief I think he knows that he has to let Jasmine go. If he doesn't, more people will die, whether it's people he loves or strangers.

Similarly, Jack definitely feels guilty for Ianto's death, and I think there's guilt there that if Ianto hadn't come with him to Thames House he'd still be alive. In mourning the loss of Ianto, he's backed into a corner again, and he knows that no one else is going to sacrifice their own children to save the world. He sacrifices Steven despite the fact that it essentially destroys him completely, because he knows that if he doesn't, the whole world is at stake.

Every version of the parallel in Children of Earth is way, way more personal and in close proximity than in Small Worlds. In Small Worlds, everyone is a stranger, except Estelle. But while she was once Jack's lover, that's over 50 years in the past with all that time between them. After he sacrifices Jasmine, he's feels helpless, guilty, but she's a stranger and she wanted to go, in a way. He's blames himself but it's something he can bounce back from; he has distance. In Children of Earth, it is Jack's home and family that are destroyed or threatened, it is his current lover that is killed, and it is his own grandson that he has to sacrifice. All of those losses and sacrifices and guilts and everything totally break him, they're so close and personal and like he says to Gwen before he leaves, he has nothing left.

It establishes a certain kind of reaction in Jack. That when faced with a huge personal loss, if he finds himself trapped or in a difficult situation, he's willing to make a huge and often painful second sacrifice in order to protect the greater good, presumably because he's already in enough pain that this new loss seems like it can't make things that much worse (which ultimately ends up being untrue, but isn't necessarily the point), and because by showing emotional weakness, whatever he's up against can exploit him further by using that.

I wonder if the Torchwood writers noticed the parallels at all. The person who wrote Small Worlds was not involved in CoE at all. But it is interesting to have such similar storylines, yet one is played out on a much grander scale and with Jack made helpless in many different ways throughout the story rather than just at the end by the power of the alien itself.

[murdockmeta]

A Human Fly: The Importance of Daredevils Before Daredevil

I've recently watched a video on "human flies", a social phenomenon that peaked in the 1920s-30s, where people would go out and do death-defying tricks literally just because they wanted to. (At first. Money became involved later, of course.) They were called human flies (sometimes human spiders, human lizards, etc.) for their ability to climb up the walls of buildings so easily. They weren't just called human flies, though. They were also called daredevils.

The video I watched talked about how this phenomenon was so popular because of the role it played in displaying masculinity. Most of these daredevils were men, and at the time being seen doing these death-defying stunts was the height of manliness. And suddenly, while learning all this new information, all I could wonder is if that at all was related to Stan Lee's motivation behind the creation of Matt Murdock. Anyway, here we go.

Okay, so, gender roles and how they functioned in society around the first half of the 20th century are similar but also different from what they are now. There were stiffly set rules to what it meant to be a man that was entirely unrelated to genitals. These same standards are echoed in the modern day. I don't think it's a coincidence that Matt falls outside of those rules.

Obviously, Matt's blind. Disabled. And, as a fictional character, that had really heavy (negative) implications before the disability rights movement became more popular. You even see that reflected in the comics themselves. There's the implication that Matt is expected to live out his life unhappy, unmarried (which extends to not having children), and is helpless to such a fate. That is the complete opposite of what being a man in US American culture was in the 1950s and 60s. Matt exemplified what it was to not be a man.

Stan Lee, when co-creating this character, takes these concepts that absolutely oppose one another and he smashes them together. It feels like spitting in the face of standards and expectations. He says, "Oh, look, a blind man. A man that can't be a man. I'm going to take him and I'm going to turn him into something that is undeniably manly." Lee does this through this phenomenon that links back to human flies.

Being a human fly was about proving to the people around you that you were a man among men. That you were capable of physical feats that others only could wish to accomplish. And Lee grew up in a time when he was surrounded by these types of people as a child. Most of these people would travel to New York City, where Lee grew up, just to perform these stunts.

How masculinity was defined in that age was rigid. You had to be strong, you had to be capable, you had to have the ability to provide for your family. There were certain elements that also took away from your masculinity. You couldn't be too smart or bookish, you couldn't be too skinny, you couldn't be disabled. And being able to fit into these standards wasn't just about pride, it was about social status.

These human flies were often referred to as daredevils by newspapers. It doesn't seem like much of a reach for me to think that they could've possibly related to Lee's creation of Daredevil.

This strip is from the second issue of volume one.

It was revolutionary* (asterisk), to an extent, what Lee was implying with his creation of Matt's character. That you could be disabled and still be fully capable of accomplishing what society has deemed impossible for you or deemed you unworthy of. That you could represent the peak of masculinity (meaning you could be perceived as an equal to those around you) while having supposed qualities that strike you from it.

I'm not saying that that's a goal that every disabled/blind person has or should have. In fact, under a modern lens, I think it's very counterproductive. But, I think the social and cultural context surrounding the character's creation is important to understand. I think it's important to know why implying those things at the time was important to disabled representation.

Many people don't like or struggle to read older comics due to them aging badly. While I don't blame them, I think there would be less resistance if people stopped trying to interpret those comics through a modern lens.

Context is important. History is important.

(asterisk) *This is in relation to the time-specific era of disabled representation. This is not to ignore the problems with the representation of Matt as a blind man. I'm not saying or implying that there's nothing wrong with the original comics, in fact, they are incredibly ableist. I am simply focusing on the importance of that representation at the time of the issues being published.

Thanks for reading.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idea sent by @anakinnies (idk if this is what you had in mind.)

“Jack?” You called out, watching as the man across from you took a hunched position, his breath was ragged as though he had ran a marathon. You didn’t know -nor wanted to know- what they did to him before shoving the pair of you in here, locking the door shut behind them. Whatever it was must’ve had something to do with the weird collar on his neck with a enchanted stone in the centre of it, glowing a vicious shade of vermillion. Yet it wasn’t the infamous Bloodstone that was for certain, as that object was within the possession of one Elsa Bloodstone but there was no denying that this stone held similar capabilities though not to the same extent as the Bloodstone. A lesser copy of the original you could say.

It didn’t take much comprehension to know that it was affecting Jack to a degree of discomfort. Helpless in helping him, you stood on your side of the room, racking your mind in what you could do to help your friend but only to come out even more frustrated at your lack of ideas. It was eating you alive seeing him like this but you didn’t dare cry for help for it’ll only fall on deaf ears; to them you were nothing by a monster sympathiser for aiding Jack in freeing the monster without realising that another monster lurked nearby in human skin. You didn’t resent Jack for withholding that information from you as you would do the exact same if the positions were switched, yet the human in you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt.

“Jack,” you tried again but this time with more power behind your words to create a false bravado that you weren’t scared but a observant person would immediately pick up on the way you picked at your nails out of sheer nervousness, “are you alright?” You cringed at your own words. “That’s a stupid question, of course your not alright, your in pain from that weird fucking collar and I don’t know how to-“ your words were cut short when you noticed a shift in Jack’s behaviour. He kept reaching for the collar but never making it all the way when a pained groan left his lips, causing his hand to drop down on the floor, scratching at it. Yet he managed to find the strength to lift his head at you, smiling weakly when he noticed the look of concern in your eyes. He could almost laugh at the irony of the situation, he has came to free a monster but in exchange for the monsters’ freedom he took it’s place.

“It’s alright.” He tried reassuring you, hiding the pain that was edging him to transform but he found that the more he fought against it the stronger the pain the stone emitted within him gets each time. Soon enough he wouldn’t be able to put it off and loose himself to a side that wasn’t him and you’d be the first to be caught in the crossfire of his rampage. He knew he needed to act before your blood was soon to be on his hands and there was only one way to ensure that wouldn’t be the case…even if the method itself relied heavily on his ability to remember. “Just,” he winced, “just don’t freak about what I’m going to do next. If I’m allowed to be blatant, I’m not quite sure if it’ll even work.” Your immediate reaction was to run and hide but where could you possibly hide in a room that was devoid of any possible refuge that you could tuck yourself away safely in?

“What’re you planning to do exactly?” You found yourself asking against your better judgment, fearful of the response you may get in return. “I just need to memorise your scent and all you need to do for me is to is keep your eyes on mine.” Jack replied, “then by some miracle, if I’m even allowed that, I should be able to remember you when I turn.” You knew he was only trying to help defuse the internal war you were having with yourself, but going off on his words alone it seemed that this tactic was an hit or a miss of the most extreme of measures. From the sounds of it you’d be lucky enough to even come out of this with more then a few scars upon your person or even a missing limb. “How do you’ll know it work?” Jack kept his silence but soon broke it to say a few choice words that left your blood run cold. “I don’t. That’s up for him to decide.”

You allowed yourself to mull it over in your head, your eyes briefly looking away from him before locking back into him when remembering that for your slim chance of survival to be secured you must keep him within your line of sight at all times. If you knew this was how your night was going to go, you probably wouldn’t have gone but even then that wouldn’t change Jack’s fate. You were lucky enough to be born a regular human, Jack on the other hand wasn’t and he was ostracised for something he had no say nor control in changing. With no other option presentable to you in that moment you took a deep breath, “alright,” Jack’s head perked at your voice like that of a dogs that if you weren’t in a life or death situation you would’ve called it cute, “let’s give this method of yours a shot.”

Just as the words left your lips, Jack was quick to hold you tightly in his arms as he began to memorise the scent of your hair, trailing down to your neck where your thyroid and Thyroid glands were located, leaving you a little flustered from the almost intimate situation you found yourself in. His hold on you was warm, strong and protective that you could feel the fatigue from everything that has happened finally catching up to you; causing your head to droop a little before Jack pulled away enough to hold it back up so you were looking into his worried eyes. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said before going back to sniffing along your arm and back to your chest, “please.” He added softly, periodically checking to make sure that you were still maintaining eye contact with him; he moved aside the sleeves and lapels of your jacket so he could further indulge on your scent and engrave it within the crevices of his mind.

Your scent was sweet, bitter and soft all at the same time that it didn’t take long for it to quickly become apart of Jack as though it was an additional limb but he didn’t want to be easily mislead by this and furthered to ingest your scent like a starved man. He felt you place a hand on the back of his head, pushing him closer so he may get to those harder to reach places, running your fingertips through the tresses of his hair, barely brushing behind his ear, which tickled the wolf within. “Take your time.” You tell him, watching as his movements came to a temporary halt, “I trust you.” With those words in mind Jack became more determined in making sure you survive to see another night.

[an1meslvt]

now playing high enough by k. fly

warnings: smut, possessiveness, choking, slapping, mating press.

characters: yandere! sanzu x y/n (black coded plus size/chubby reader)

summary: haruchiyo is addicted to you…and a little selfish too ;)

mature themes

kinktober list

sanzu haruchiyo is a selfish man. always has been…always will be. so you could expect nothing less when it came to his precious baby. you. you were his everything, the light of his life, his queen.

so why wouldn’t he be a little possessive…or like…full blown obsessed? he had you (and bonten ofc) engraved in the back of his mind. no matter what he was doing, his mind always went back to you.

and it was even worse before you guys started living together. he was always paranoid. is she safe? is she gonna leave me? what is she doing right now? it was always some sort of worry when it came to you.

so what solution did he have? well, he simply packed up you and all your stuff and moved it in his place. perfect solution right? well yea to a certain extent.

you were completely fine with it, but it got a little upsetting at times. you felt like you where in a cage at all times. like a jail. you often felt trapped and helpless, but nonetheless, you stayed.

you stayed because you knew sanzu would never hurt you. at least…not too bad. and you knew he was only trying to protect you…in his own special way.

today however, was a rather good day. sanzu decided he would treat you on a date and a few other activities. he took you out to eat, to a spa, you guys went shopping, it was wonderful! but you could feel it in your bones that something was bound to happen.

while haruchiyo was looking around the rather expensive store for some cuff links he’s been wanting, you wandered around as well. looking at all the dresses and shoes that you knew sanzu was more than happy to buy for you.

just then you felt a tap on your shoulder. “excuse me miss?” “oh hi….can i help you?” you asked sweetly. “well yea you can actually! by giving me your number!” the man said confidently. “oh well i-” “she has a boyfriend.” haru said firmly as he put his arm around you.

you both watched as the man’s face got pale. you looked down to see haru with his sleeve rolled up, showing his bonten tattoo. the man nodded quickly before scurrying his way out of the store, clearly scared shitless.

haru leaned down to your ear to whisper his next words. “you’re in for it when we get home, dollface.”

𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷

“haru! s’too much!” you wailed as he pushed your plush thighs to your chest. while his body leaned over to fold you in half, his hands were busy. his left hand was snug around your throat while the other was busy slapping your tear stained cheeks.

“no one gets to have my doll face! you’re all fucking mine, now take it!” you felt his pace quicken which caused you to let out a yelp. you knew this was gonna be a long night.

“was gonna get fuckin high, doll face, but i’m already high enough.”

𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷༄𖧷

all rights reserved to an1meslvt! all tokyo revenged characters belong to ken wakui.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Fluff Alphabet Marko

warning : pure fluff, some darker themes, angst, lots of cuddling, it's getting sweet and fluffy under the cut

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Adoration (How does they worship you?)

°For Marko you are everything. In his dark, brutal, bloody world, you are everything. You are always there for him, you are not disgusted by him because of the whole blood aspect. You know how to treat him and you are not afraid of him and you don't treat him like a psychopath. Marko adores you for taking him as he is. With all his crazy sides. Yet he would do anything for you.

══════════════════════

B = Best friends (What would they be like as best friends? How would the friendship start?)

°Your friendship would start on one of the rides that are all over the pier. I think that while the others were looking for victims, he would have heard something in the crowd of running blood bags. A heartbeat and a laugh. He was immediately intrigued by it and would go to find the sound before he saw you on the Ferris wheel. A quick hypnosis another round and he'd be sitting next to you grinning and you'd start talking. So simple and yet so tempting.

°From then on, you're pretty much always on some ride in Santa Carla. Whether on the Ferris wheel, the bumper car or the merry-go-round. Marko goes everywhere with you and he loves to listen to your laughter, is curious how you react and your heart beats faster. But his grin would only widen if you sat together on his motorbike and held on to him. Your body full of adrenalin. Maybe this upset him more than it should...maybe it brought out something in him other than just friends? Maybe he had deeper feelings for you than it seemed?

══════════════════════

C = Cuddling (do they like cuddling? how do they cuddle?)

°I think he does like cuddling to a certain extent. Not as much as Paul, but more as a short greeting or goodbye. Or if you hold onto him while riding a motorbike. He's not the biggest fan of physical contact, at least not until he gets to your neck. Then it's a whole other thing.

°If you cuddle him and squeeze him before he sleeps, it makes him feel like you're watching over him. Or he pulls you close and presses himself against you and his hands reach for yours. He loves the thought of how helpless you are compared to him and yet you are not afraid.

°,,Little naive bunny"

══════════════════════

D = Domestic (how would they settle? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

°Marko, like Dwayne, stays with David. Not only because he respects him as a leader but because he has everything he needs in his environment. He has his brothers, he has his victims and he has you. He would be very reluctant to leave Santa Carla. But he would be the first to nip your attempt in the bud with hypnosis. He'd be the first to disabuse you of that notion.

°,,No...no...no wrong idea."

°When it comes to cleaning up, he has his quirks. As far as his pigeons are concerned, he has a very specific order. All the birds' nests have a certain place and are well kept. His personal nest, so to speak, rather less so. But even he would clean up if it got too much or if the blood sifted through all his blankets, varnishes and pillows. Cooking, because he not only rarely plays delivery boy and distributes the food, I think he could cook quite well. If he wants to, because that hardly ever happens. Because for him blood is the only thing he needs.

°,,Blood my pretty"

══════════════════════

E = Ending (how would they break up with their partner if they had to?)

°It would take the smile off his face for the first time to know that he would have to break up with you. Knowing he had to leave you, knowing he had no one. He would be the last of the four to use hypnosis. Not out of pity or fear, but because he would hunt through the night for the culprit. But if there is a riot and he realises there is only one way, he will get it over with quickly. He was a dead creature and yet it hurt him to the core.

°,,I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

°The dark way is the most brutal of his fellow vampires. He would kill everything and everyone who is responsible for your damage. He would hunt them all down and leave them to die. But if he leaves you alone with his brothers and he comes back and no one is left alive because of the vampire hunter teenagers. Marko would become a beast. He would try to revive you for hours until he realised it was over. Before he drinks your blood and uses your power to kill everything in Santa Carla. They were all responsible. They would all have to pay for it with their deaths.

°,,I'll kill them all for you... just kill everything and everyone."

══════════════════════

F = Fiance(e) (how do you feel about agreement? How soon would they want to marry?

°I think they would want to marry. A splendid wedding on the beach or in the cave in the moonlight in a black suit and you in a black wedding dress or both standing in front of each other drenched in blood? He doesn't care, but he would like to get married. As far as the speed is concerned, he'd go with you. Today or tomorrow in a year. He is a vampire and has an infinite amount of time.

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G = Gentle (how gentle are they mentally and physically?)

°Emotionally he has two sides. The funny, cute, fun side for playing pranks, talking and laughing with you and his brothers. To get along with you and spend time in peace and quiet. And he has his full vampire side with the grin that almost always showed when he wanted blood. The grin that kept the brutality inside at bay. All the dark thoughts you knew so little of but he wanted to show them all to you someday.

°,,You'd look so beautiful covered in...blood."

°Physically he likes to hold your hands and press you against him to hold you. Listening to your heartbeat and the rush of your blood. He loves to just be near you or pressed up against you. A fine line between cuteness and hunger.

°,,Like a river, the sound makes me happy".

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H = Hugs (do you like hugs? How are your hugs?)

°He likes hugs, as I said, then he can be close to you, hold your hand, listen to your heartbeat and hear the rush of your blood. It's a quieter way for him to be with you. He loves it.

°,,Either a hug or right up against your neck...it's your choice".

°His hugs are strong not bone breaking but he will pull you into a strong hug. It's like a mini hunt for him. You're his pretty victim who can't escape his grip and he's about to get his next drop of blood from your neck.

°,,Once in the grip you know I won't let go".

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I = I love you (how quickly would they say it?)

°He wouldn't say it right away, not as stormy as Paul. I think he would take a little time. To consider the pros and cons of it all. Because he knew that once in a relationship, he'd have to be careful not to suck you dry. But when he sees how much he means to you, he'll be proud to say it. Sometimes even rubbing it in his brothers' faces. Always with a grin on his lips, of course.

°Otherwise he will still say it afterwards, especially as praise when you have done something well. You have made him happy or he just sees you and the smile on your lips grows. It is a gesture of love and joy for him. One that he likes to pair with kisses and little bites.

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J = Jealousy (how quickly are you jealous? What do they do when they are jealous)

°Marko is the most jealous of the vampires. All it would take is one look from someone else and Marko would practically have his hand on his collar and almost strike. He doesn't mind taking matters into his own hands and protecting you from anything that isn't him or his brothers.

°Before he looks at you, he's dead, you're mine, you know that".

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K = Kisses (how are their kisses? where do they love to kiss you?)

°Your first kiss with Marko was stormy and demanding, it was clear what he was after. But you didn't particularly mind. You had only yourself to blame, you waited for him to come back from his hunt. With the blood still on his lips he is still so overwhelmed that he just kisses you. In a frenzy of love and hunger. But his kisses are also demanding and stormy. But don't worry, in calmer moments he can also be different.

°He loves to kiss your hands, to hold them and to kiss each finger separately. Knowing that you will hold him and not leave him. Or even kissing up your legs to not only get at your blood. But forever he will love to kiss your neck and bite you. The perfect place for him.

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L = Little ones (how are they with kids?)

°Rather bad I think he could entertain them for a while but as soon as they start touching the patches, pins and homemade stuff on his jacket he's gone. He definitely doesn't have the patience for children. He would rather tell them disturbing horror stories than play with them.

°,,So who knows the child-eater from Santa Carla?"

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M = Morning (How do they spend their morning?)

°You should watch your neck with Marko when you have a morning together. More than once you've caught him coming up to you quietly and sucking on your neck. Before he grins at you with a sly smile.

°,,Sorry...but we all have our needs, don't we?"

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N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

°He loves to go to the fair with you at night and try out all the rides. But what he would love even more is to go to the bridge with you. He knows you could barely hold on, so he waits with a grin for you to let go, only to fly after you and catch you. To hold you against him before he flies with you through the night.

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O = Open (how quickly would they open)

°He has no problem talking to you about anything. His past is no problem. What he dreamed and what he was before his transformation. He's happy to tell you. You see, his problem would be that he can't stop and doesn't stop at his exes-deep hunts, which usually end more than just bloody and brutal. He'd have to learn to recognise when you needed a moment.

°,,He sounded so funny when I ripped his fingers out"

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P = Patience (how quickly do they get angry?)

°Very very quickly. Marko has no patience when it comes to that. His moto would be to strike first and then ask. If it doesn't work the way he wants, if you don't understand him or if his victims run away too slowly. Surprisingly, he'd find your attention or your generve about it rather cute. Something that would make him grin. For the reason that you're not afraid of him.

°,,Go on is cute"

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Q = quizzes (how much would they know or remember about you?)

°Marko like Dwayne would not ask directly. Rather, he would elicit your secrets with sayings and comments. Or even with hypnosis, if you don't pay attention. He would know his own way of finding out everything about you. Be it breaking into your house and searching everything.

°,,Break in? Who could have done that?" Marko asked, but his grin grew wider and wider.

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R = Remember (what is their favourite moment in their relationship?)

°He hadn't noticed you until he felt his heart beat again and looked confusedly at the bodies around him, realising that they weren't his victims. Can I hold that?" your voice rang out as he watched you gin over to them. He found his grin again and handed you a severed loose arm to bite into. He watched you take the arm and watch him, even tracing your fingers. Before you seemed to overcome yourself and collected the blood with your fingers from the torn off point. He sighed as he saw you lick the blood from your fingers. He knew it must taste like metal to you. But you didn't seem to find it repulsive. You seemed to know the taste. My sexy blood-drinking monster-loving girl!" he shouted and heard the cheers of his brothers before he took your arm and threw it away carelessly and pulled you into a stormy kiss.

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S = safety (how protective are they? How would they protect you?)

°He is very protective as he is jealous. At the first sign of trouble, he'll be there to defend you, of course, but also to maybe get a little snack. No but seriously he would really be the first to protect you.

°He would protect you in his own way. He would know you were safe. If you weren't right there with him, he would lock you up in the cave with no ifs, ands or buts. It would be something you could not dissuade him from. He would be too much in his thoughts of revenge on those who wanted to harm you that he would not even hypnotise you. You had no choice in his eyes, you were too important to be put in danger. Whether with resistance, without, with his powers or without. He would force you into safety.

°,,You stay here! Understand?"

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T = Try (how much would they invest in dates, anniversaries, gifts etc?)

°Little gifts Marko loves to make or collect little gifts for you. Whether it's a pretty feather from his pigeons, a button from his jacket or something else, giving you a gift and watching you do it makes him happy.

°If you have something to celebrate, it's a mix of selfishness and benefit. Maybe a new top or t-shit with a really low cut to get to your neck, maybe? Or a necklace with a little vial of his blood on it in case you want to become a vampire too.

°,,Here just for you...my blood"

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U = Ugly (what would be a bad habit of them?)

°His aggression and jealousy with the mix of brutality would be something that if you don't know how to deal with it and understand it, it can end very badly very quickly. One too quick move by the vampire and his girlfriend could be no longer. Even if it would hopefully never come to that.

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V = Vanity (how much do they care about their appearance?)

°He cares a lot about his appearance. His hair doesn't get that wavy by itself, let alone that beautiful. He will make sure that he looks more than just good. What he is most proud of is his homemade jacket which meant everything to him from that point on. It was a lot of work and yet he loves the jacket.

°But as far as you are concerned, he doesn't care. Even if the thought of you waiting for him dressed only in his jacket is clearly handsome and also covered in blood. An idea that not only stimulates his appetite.

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W = Whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

°He would not show it outwardly and would try to hide it, but inside he would feel emptiness, anger, hate and sadness. If you were gone, he would completely lose himself in his brutality and bloodthirst that you could always keep at a normal level. It would get so bad that even David would notice how brutal the smallest one had become.

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X = Xtra (a random headcanon for them)

°He loves to tell you all about his pigeons. What they are called, where they come from, when they arrived or if he rescued them. He would love to see you hold one of them in your hands and make friends with them. He would be such a proud pigeon dad.

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Y = Yuck (what is something they wouldn't like about their partner?)

°What he wouldn't like if you condemned his killing and his fun in it and hare his pigeons. As for the former, for him hunting and sucking is fun, a hobby for survival, something he can lose himself in. Because it fulfils him. Also his pigeons they are like his little friends. He would try to make it clear to you in both cases and bring it closer to you, but he would have a hard time understanding why you could not accept or approve of it.

°,,You just have to become a vampire too, then you'll understand".

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Z = Zzz (what is a sleeping habit of theirs?)

°If not hanging upside down in the darkest part of the cave then I think he's cuddling up thinking about you and holding you close and not letting go just having you with him. Or he sleeps alone and at some point his doves sit down on his sleeping form which is immediately photographed by you. A truly sweet image of a blood-hungry vampire.

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[aboutiroh]

now I’m curious what you think ARE the hardest episodes to rewatch? And do you think they’re difficult because they’re poorly done/lacking in some way, or because they’re emotional/stressful?

Exactly, the latter! I was talking about episodes that are hard to watch because of the emotional distress they elicit. Now to be clear, whenever I do a full rewatch of the show, I never skip an episode. None of them are so hard to watch that I would skip them, but there are episodes that you know will be sad, and while they are generally good or even great episodes, and the events that occur are necessary or can even elevate the story as a whole, they're not pleasant to watch (for me) and I won't randomly put them on.

I don't think there's any surprises here at all, but I was thinking about these ones while writing that reply:

The Desert (including the ending of The Library). I think it's an important episode, I think the anger and pain Aang feels is very relatable and it's so well executed that it's not easy to watch. It's arguably his lowest moment on the show. Add to that Katara tirelessly trying to keep everyone together while hope is fading away with the minute and Toph feeling helpless, and you get a pretty devastating episode (whenever Sokka's not tripping on cactus juice).

Appa's lost days (including Momo's tale from Tales of Ba Sing Se; no further comments needed here)

To a certain extent: The Southern and Northern Air Temple episodes. The Southern Air Temple is one of the only moments that Aang is actively grieving the loss of his people (I think?). There are not nearly enough moments like this, but considering the target audience, it's great that they even got this one in. The Northern Air Temple is the only one that I think is not executed as well as it could have been. It's again a terrible episode for Aang: There might still be Air Nomads around after all! Nope, false alarm, they're refugees. There's a part of the temple that is not completely ruined! Well actually, it's far worse than you could imagine. But what annoys me the most is that the episode fails to respect Aang's feelings. He's rightfully angry that the new people living there have been disrespectful of his cultural heritage. I don't think the message of moving on, innovating and improving is wrong, but the idea of preserving holy sites and being respectful of one's culture can coexist with that conclusion. They don't even acknowledge it, let alone apologize for it. (I do like Teo though and Sokka using his engineering skills is always a treat).

[agent-cupcake]

With Dimitri, do you see him using bondage and gags on his S/O? I imagine him tying my wrists up and then just releasing all his frustration~ feel free to add on

Not gags so much, I think Dimitri would be too addicted to hearing you moan, and especially hearing you say his name. Buuut, if he did need a way to keep you quiet, his hand is more than big enough to muffle you.

On bondage... with Dimitri and most kinks, I have this running thing that is something along the lines of him being uncertain and shy about if it's okay or not and then, as soon as he realizes how fun it is, he goes a little wild. He's so careful and soft at first, asking if it hurts, if it's too tight, if you're okay, but at a certain point as he's looking at you, helpless and needy and squirming beneath him, that feral brain kicks in. Then it gets added to his collection of fantasies that he may or may not indulge with increasing intensity. Bondage could also be a matter of convenience, a quick solution to a problem that he doesn't think about much in the moment. You're being difficult, he's getting frustrated, so when he's drunk on lust (drunk on you) it's an obvious decision. The beast will always take expedient action, right?

In your scenario, where he's frustrated, it's worth considering that bondage might be an attempt to protect you. If Dimitri didn't want you to move, you wouldn't, it's nothing for him to keep you pinned. But if he lost control, you could easily get hurt. So if he were tying you up, it could be kind of a warning that he's frustrated enough he can't trust himself not to hurt you, that it's for your own good.

I was going to close this with a joke about the sort of knots Dimitri would know and use, I was going to say that they'd be mostly related to horses and hunting, but we know that he tortured Imperials during the five years to the extent of making them watch the murder of their friends, so he probably has some experience with bondage in a human sense. Twisted association aside, that'd probably make him good at improvising.

[yellowhollyhock]

Hot take. People thinking 03 and 12 Mikey are innocent victims that get hit for no reason are just too sensitive. I feel like it’s dumb to get mad at Raph the way fandom does. Leave the guy alone.

missed this one somehow sorry for the wait

Thankfully I haven't come across too much of either Raph or Mikey being portrayed as abusive. Come to think of it, that's probably because I often filter out higher ratings and search for family bonding fics.

I will say, on both sides, I see the merit in focusing on one pov at a time. Like, to Mikey his teasing and prodding are harmless, but I'm sure there are times when to Raph it isn't. Likewise, usually when Raph hits Mikey would 1) defend himself and 2) that's literally what he was after, he needles to invite roughhousing; but that doesn't mean he isn't hurt by it. I think that's really the key: one character can be hurt without the other character being evil

Also just pointing out: in 03 Donny also hits Mikey. Leo, too, though he does it the least. I don't remember with 12, though I do recall Mikey hitting Donnie after he got a spider off of him because he was tired of it, so at least Donnie must do it sometimes

... aaand now that I've typed that I'm seeing where the abused Mikey whump comes from. Again, I don't think his bros are abusive. Would not characterize them that way by a long shot. But is Mikey hurt by being punished physically for verbal blunders? Probably. I can see that being a buried hurt that comes up in a difficult moment.

Again though, I would say same thing with Raph. Words mean more to him than his brothers understand, so 03 Mikey calling him ugly or unintelligent would stick with him more than they realize.

So yeah I don't think either of them are innocent victims, but at the same time they are both innocent (to the extent that siblings ever are) and both victims in certain ways at different times.

I think I got off topic, main answer to your actual ask: yeah Mikey knows what he's doing. I assume when people portray him as the helpless victim, either they just like that type of story and tweaked the other characters to make it happen, or they relate to Mikey and are working through something. I don't know why it'd be Raph who gets thrown under the bus for that, though, because they really all treat Mikey pretty similarly. They all have their sweet moments with him, and they all want to pull his hair if he had it sometimes.

[anysin]

The Loophole

For the anon who wanted dark!Jon, Tim and Danny with "dating the enemy's sibling" prompt, here is a ficlet for you! Set in an AU where Danny survived Stranger but is massively traumatized, which leads to Jon maneuvering things a little differently in S2. SFW but creepy Jon.

The Loophole

Tim, who usually knows his place, shocks Jon today by barging right into his office.

"Stay away from my brother," he sneers.

Jon glares at Tim, then at the open door. "Close the door so we can discuss this properly," he says.

"I think not." Tim strides over to Jon's desk, leaving the door gaping open. He slams his hands on Jon's desk, hard enough to make Jon jump a bit. "I have tried to tolerate whatever is going on with you for weeks, even though you have been an absolute freak this whole time. But I draw the fucking line at you messing with Danny."

Jon frowns before standing up, so he can be more at the level of Tim's eye.

"Have you ever stopped to consider," he asks, "that maybe he likes it?"

Tim's eyes flow wide. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your brother has his problems for sure. But he still very much has a will of his own." Jon let himself smile a bit. "Do you really think he would tolerate my presence if he didn't, on some level, enjoy it?"

"You're lying." But Jon can see it in Tim's eyes, how hesitation settles in. Jon takes advantage of this, leaving Tim lingering by his desk while he goes to close the door. He doesn't need Martin or Sasha listening to them.

Not when he finally has Tim right where he wants him.

"Your brother is very lonely," he says, shutting the door. He considers locking it for a moment, but decides not to; Tim already must feel trapped. "His trauma may have made him lock up into his home, but he still longs for the rest of the world, and people in it. He was very receptive to me when I came to him."

He turns towards Tim, who is still standing by his desk. Tim is gripping the edge of it, his knuckles pale.

"You think you protect him, and to certain extent you do. But you have also enabled his isolation, encouraged it." Jon paces over to Tim, stopping right behind him. "I think you like it that way. Him away from dangers, less worry and concern for you."

"You know nothing." But Tim's voice is quiet, wounded. He is trembling slightly.

"I know enough." Smiling behind Tim, Jon reaches up for his shoulder, resting his hand lightly down on it. "I know you think that's love. It's not."

He is prepared for a violent reaction, perhaps even a punch. Tim yanks his shoulder away from Jon's reach, but he doesn't try to attack him, moving away instead, heading back towards the door. Jon lets him go, watching him until Tim is grasping the door handle.

"If you want me to stay away from Danny, you should ask his opinion about it."

Tim's grip tightens around the handle, but he doesn't open it. He stands there instead, silent, shaking, the very picture of helpless rage.

Jon quite likes the sight of him that way.

"I will," Tim replies. "We're not done."

But Tim's exit is much less brisk than his entrance, his steps full of doubt, and Jon knows he has made the impact he has wanted.

It won't take Tim long to break.