#it's not just men writing these characters

[tiza0925]

Idk if you take requests but Hinata,Tsukishima, Or Atsumu with an S/o that has a choking kink?? You can write however you want (u dont have to take this req, if u dont want to) :))

how about all three hq men ♡ i loved this prompt, ty for the request anon 

Wrap your fingers around my neck | 18+

Warnings/Tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, riding, lap sex, raw sex, kissing, praise kink, creampie, finger sucking, degradation kink, dirty talk, pussy eating, squirting, petnames, fingering, needy!Atsumu, pussy slapping, kitchen counter sex, choking kink ♡ SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18 YEARS

Pairings:  Hinata Shouyou x Female Reader, Tsukishima Kei x Female Reader, & Miya Atsumu x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Hinata

It was an honest accident. 

Hinata didn’t mean to do it—and you genuinely did not think he would follow along after but—

Hinata always loses himself a little whenever he kisses you. 

He can’t help it. 

Your lips feel so nice and soft against his. You taste so good when he licks his tongue inside your mouth and fuck—the little moans you make against him get his head all hazy, and he just wants his hands all over you—

“Shit,” Hinata murmurs, his breathing a little heavy as he pulls on your lower lip with his mouth, and his hands roam up your thighs, the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist—touching you everywhere while you sit on his lap, straddling him, as he sits up against the bed frame. “So pretty, angel.” 

You let out a shaky breath against his mouth, and you grind your hips towards him—pulling out a hiss from Hinata as his cock moves inside you. 

“Keep going, baby,” Hinata groans when you roll your hips again, and you gasp as his cock hits against your g-spot while your clit rubs against his exposed skin, and you dig your fingers into his broad, muscled shoulders for support. 

“Just like that,” Hinata’s hands are squeezing your ass, holding your hips, grabbing your tits—they’re everywhere and he can’t seem to control it when he’s like this. 

He just loves how you feel under the palm of his hand—maybe just a bit more than a volleyball—and his head is in the clouds as your pussy swallows him so perfectly, taking his thick cock like you always do, that he—

He doesn’t realize that one of his hands has moved further up to graze over your collarbone and shoulders. 

He’s too busy focusing on how sinful your tongue feels gliding against his. 

How your pussy is so damn wet—you’re dripping all over his dick—and god, you’re tight, that he’s so close to exploding—

Hinata doesn’t realize that his hand is near your neck—your skin is so soft and nice under his hand that everywhere feels the same—

It’s why he mindlessly circles his fingers around the base of your neck when his palm is there—he just needs his entire hand to feel you.

And you suck in a sharp breath as the feel of long, strong, and thick fingers curl around your throat—so hot and firm—and that’s Hinata freezes. 

Shit. 

He’s ready to apologize profusely—his fingers are already beginning to uncurl from your neck—because he didn’t mean to hold you that way but—

But then he hears you let out a moan—small, shaky, and wanting—and you buck your hips up against him, kissing him more feverishly, causing Hinata’s eyes to droop and roll back, a small groan ripping out of him when he realizes—

You liked that. 

“Yeah?” Hinata breathes out in response to your moan, and his fingers stay where they are—just a little hesitant with the pressure—as you ride him, your lashes fluttering as his heavy hand sits around your throat. “You liked that, didn’t you?” 

You nod, eyelids feeling heavy, and Hinata lets loose a low breath, shaking his head and smirking as he kisses you, murmuring against your red lips. “Should’ve told me you like that sooner, baby.” 

Because now that he knows you like having his hand around your throat like that—

“Would’ve made that pretty little head of yours all dizzy a long time ago,” Hinata rolls his hips up as he says that, shoving his cock a little deeper until you swear you feel it in your guts, causing you to gasp with a wet moan, and he puts a little more pressure on the sides of your neck with the pads of his finger—his eyes focused on yours. “Is that okay, angel?” 

More than okay—fuck, your head feels a little more light-headed now. 

You can still breathe, but the pressure around your throat brings out a blurry fog around the edges of your vision, and your cunt clenches around Hinata’s cock—making him groan—as your fluids leak out, getting him all wet and messy from how heated you are. 

It’s so overwhelming and you love it. 

You nod, moving your hips in tandem with his—languid rolls as his dick rubs your g-spot over and over, bringing you higher and tighter and hotter for your orgasm—

“Good girl,” Hinata praises, breathless, and uses his hold around your throat to pull you in closer—letting him kiss you like he’s greedy for your mouth as he licks and sucks and nips until you feel all woozy from it—then he moves to brush his mouth against the shell of your ear, his voice throaty as he pushes his hips up. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?”

Your pussy throbs around the girth of him when you feel his fingers press against the sides of your throat a little more, his hold around the most vulnerable part of you feeling possessive like he can own you if he wanted to. 

And you trust him enough to give it if he asks.

Your lips part with soft breaths being punched out with every buck of his hips, fucking you to make your mind melt, and he grazes his teeth against your earlobe—your heart leaping in your throat when he gently squeezes your neck, testing it until you moan in approval, losing yourself to how full you feel from his dick. “I want you to make a mess, angel, you always look so pretty when you do.” 

God—

It only takes a few more pumps of his cock inside you, your walls sucking him in, while your puffy clit rubs against your stomach until your orgasm ripples through you—your mouth hanging open with a silent moan as you gush around Hinata’s cock, legs tensing and back arching as your vision goes blurry and white as he keeps his hands where they are. “Fuck—so good for me, baby, look at you—”

He fucks you through it, nearing his orgasm as you pulse around him, and Hinata cums with a guttural groan—sticky cum spurting into your plush walls—

And his hand stays around your throat the entire time—holding and pinning you in place just the way you like it. 

Tsukishima

It’s not news to him that you like the feeling of his hand around your throat. 

He’s been playing around with the idea for a while, now, whenever he’s touching you—just in subtle ways. 

Whenever he kisses you, he places his hand just above your collarbone—not fully on your neck, but the tease is there—and slots his lips between yours with a sigh. 

Or it’s when you two are out in public and it’s a little too busy and you easily become lost in the crowd—Tsukishima guides you with his hand wrapping delicately against your nape, keeping you close while he has you in his hold. 

He always picked up on the way you reacted whenever he touched you there. 

How blown your pupils would get. 

How your breath would hitch with your lips parting with a small intake of breath. 

How dazed you would look in the eyes—making him feel just a little smug about finding out a little secret about you that he definitely plans to use one night. 

It’s when he’s got you lying on the bed all pretty for him—looking up at him with starry eyes as he pumps two of his fingers in and out of your drenched pussy—with his other hand caressing your cheek, his thumb teasing your lower lip. 

And he’s smirking down at you—in his usual lackadaisical way— with one of his knees sitting between your bent legs as he presses the pad of his thumb down onto your lower lip to pry your mouth open. “You always need something to suck on, don’t you?”

He teases you, his voice low and mirthful, and all it does is make your pussy clench as you moan—rolling your tongue out to flick it at his thumb before wrapping your warm mouth around it, your cheeks hollowing as you give his thumb a slow, indulgent suck.

“Shit,” It’s the way you keep eye contact with him as your head moves, leaving his thumb shiny with your saliva as you suck it, that sends heat down to his cock, making him feel light in the head. “You’re a needy little thing, you know.” 

You make a sound that’s similar to a moan around his thumb, and your eyes flutter, going half-mast, as you bob your head and swirl your tongue around his thumb as if it was his cock instead. 

And Tsukishima can’t help it—you look so desperate like this, your back arching against his hovering body, looking up at him so obediently, with your tits all perked up and nipples pert and pretty as you leak all over his hand—

It’s filthy and you—

“A perfect little slut,” Tsukishima lets those words slip out, a groan in his throat, and you choke a little with a whimper when you feel him press his thumb into your mouth a bit deeper, affection lacing his rather filthy words.

And you moan—low and wanting—when you hear him call you that, and Tsukishima can’t help but chuckle darkly as he leans in a little closer, his head tilting almost mockingly as he watches you with desire and affection. “Yeah?”

He curls his fingers to rub your spongey g-spot, his palm pressing against your swollen little clit for friction that sends heat up your tummy and chest. “You like being a little slut for me, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. 

“Looking like the mess that you are just because of me,” Tsukishima hums, his voice low. “You can hear just how soaked you are, you know.” 

You whine around his thumb as your orgasm balances at the edge—ready to combust with how tight your muscles feel—and you nod. 

God—you’re too perfect for him. 

He can’t help the small smile that threatens to creep up on him, trying to focus on making you cum—for the second time tonight—on his fingers before he finally fucks you the way you both need him to and—

And then his eyes widen a little, turning more amorous when his eyes briefly flit down to your exposed throat—

“…You can get a little more messy for me, right baby?” It’s not a question. 

Just a warning worded more sweetly. 

Because before you even get a chance to respond to him—

You feel his thumb slip out of your mouth—making a wet popping sound with your spit connecting a thin, clear string from your mouth to his thumb, leaving you gasping for air—

Only for it to be partially taken away again when you feel long, calloused fingers gently wrap around the area just beneath your jawline—and your eyes widen as you look at him, your breath catching, and he watches you with a knowing look behind his eyes. 

Like he knows that no matter what—you’ll trust him.

And he’s not wrong—you do. 

Enough to let your eyes immediately soften into submission, your lips wet from your saliva, and you let out a small moan as you tilt your chin up—giving him more room for his fingers to hold and cover. 

It brings out a hiss from him, low and breathy, and you see the way things primarily shift in his eyes when you begin to pant, moving your hips as he fucks you with his fingers—encouraging him to push harder and make you lose your mind. 

And god—he listens almost instantly as he squeezes the sides of your neck a little more, and you moan as you get a little hazy in the head, your limbs loose as his fingers move inside you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Tsukishima lets out a small breath that’s almost a chuckle, and he watches you with his dick throbbing as you let him take the weakest part of your body into his own hands to play with. 

Giving him that trust that gets him all heady and needy to just—

To just kiss you and fuck you and take all of you until all you feel, smell, taste, and hear is him. 

“Always so good for me, sweetheart.” 

He grinds his palm against your clit with more pressure, moving it in circles as his fingers get swallowed by your pulsing walls—and then he’s pressing his fingers into your pulse points a little more, slowly playing with your ability to breathe, feeling his hand heavy around your neck until—

“Oh fuck—Kei—shit—”

You gasp, shaky, and your lower spine draws tight when your eyes get blurry from the brief lack of air—and that seems to snap something deep within you as you cum furiously around his fingers, spasming and gasping with your senses turning numb—

“Just like that, baby—get all nasty for me—“

Tsukishima finger fucks you through it, watching with dark eyes as he loosens up his fingers around your throat—and clear fluids squirt out of your sopping pussy with every thrust of his wrist inside you.

You end up gushing fluids all over the bed and his thighs—but Tsukishima doesn’t care. 

He’s too wound up and high on watching you cum on him to care about how sticky everything is—

It’ll only get messier once he gets his dick inside you anyway. 

You cry, coming down from your high as air rushes into your lungs after your orgasm—your pussy clenching hard from wave after wave of pleasure—

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” You hear him breathe that out. “And fill you up just how you like it.” 

You’re still too out of it to respond with anything other than a languid nod, feeling light and a puddle of fire at the same time as he kisses you so achingly soft that you melt against him. 

Atsumu

If he isn’t spending his time practicing or playing volleyball—

Miya Atsumu’s idea of using his time effectively is by having his hands and mouth on and all over you.

Specifically being able to bury his face in between your plush thighs—with his mouth and tongue pressed against your cunt. 

It’s what he’s doing right now as he’s got you bent over the island counter in your kitchen—while he’s on his knees behind you, hands gripping onto your upper thighs to hold you in place, with his tongue running a wide strip from your clit to your hole. 

“God—‘Sumu, you couldn’t have waited—?” 

You moan with a small whine as he sucks on your folds, tongue dipping in and jaw working as he makes out with your pussy from behind. 

“Sorry, baby,” Atsumu is breathing heavily when he pulls back, and he wets his lips as he slides his hands up to squeeze your ass—massaging it before using his hold on them to spread them apart, giving him easier access to your cunt.

And his eyes go half-lidded, his cock hardening in his pants, at the sight of your spit-slicked and soaked folds. “Can’t help it.”

Then he dives back in, jaw slack as his tongue licks your pussy like he’s thirsty for it, and you whine at how embarrassingly close you are to your orgasm already. 

“Ya looked so good in that skirt,” Atsumu murmurs against you, undulating his tongue against your clit before pushing the tip of his tongue through your drooling slit—

And he moans. 

He actually moans while he eats you out—like he’s just so desperate to have his mouth on you, determined to get you utterly soaked as your juices trickle down his chin and your thighs from how much he’s gotten you worked up. 

“Couldn’ wait,” Atsumu pants, swallowing before pushing his tongue further to lick your sensitive clit—flicking it with his tongue until he has you tensing and your thighs squeezing around his face. ‘Fuck—baby, so good—”

A whimper escapes your throat, and you rest your forehead against your arms that are on the counter, pushing your hips back to fuck yourself on his face until that ball of heat explodes in between your legs—and your orgasm throbs through you. 

Liquid heat spreads through your body, and you moan through it all as Atsumu licks and sucks and eats, groaning so low and needy, until your clit twitches with oversensitivity and you’re whining. 

“So pretty f’me,” You hear him mutter, sounding drunk off the taste of your cunt, and your entire body jolts as a sharp gasp slips through your parted lips when you feel a slap against your sopping folds. 

And Atsumu’s head spins when he stands back up—his eyes focused on the way your arousal drools down from your pussy lips, a thin string of clear fluid running down to the floor and—

“God damn, baby, ya drooling.” Two of his fingers strum your slit, getting his fingers all nice and shiny and creamy from your orgasm, feeling your cute little cunt pulse around them. 

Then—

You choke out a broken gasp when he slaps your pussy again, hearing the wet smack against his hand, and Atsumu’s voice comes out in a low drawl right after. “Turn around, love.” 

Your legs buckle when you do—your movements slow with that ache still there between your legs—

But Atsumu is right there—guiding you with gentle touches over your legs and hips—and the moment you’re facing him—

He gives you one, heated look—his eyes lowered and so murky with desire—before he captures your lips with his, and you exhale a sharp breath through your nose when you can taste yourself in his mouth. 

God. 

You kiss him back, though, a little sloppy with how muddled your head is, and you make these tiny sounds that Atsumu eagerly swallows up—while his hands move to squeeze your ass, then move down until they’re at the back of your thighs and—

“Lift up for me,” He mumbles against your mouth, and you follow almost immediately—one leg moving to wrap around his waist after the other—and you use your hold around his neck for support, kissing him with a small grunt when he lifts you to sit your ass on the edge of the counter. 

It causes the cool surface to brush against your bare pussy, pulling out a gasp from you, and Atsumu breathes heavily against you as he grinds his clothed bulge—god, it’s so fucking big—against your pussy, making you all dizzy with it. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay?” 

He kisses you again, his rough hands running up and spreading goosebumps over your legs until they just reach the part where your hips and thighs meet. “And you gonn’ take it like a good girl f’me, yeah?” 

You whimper with a small nod, kissing him and bucking your hips back at him almost impatiently. 

“Say it, baby.” 

Shit—

“O-okay,” You breathe out, too high off the bliss of your post-orgasm to care about the fact that he’s going to fuck you raw—

You don’t even realize he doesn’t have a condom on until he’s pulling his pants and underwear down to let his dick bounces free, and it slaps against your upper thigh—feeling so heavy and hot and smooth and—

Exposed—with his pre-cum leaking from the fat tip and onto your leg, making more of a mess on you. 

“Good,” Atsumu praises you, kissing you as he slides his thick cock through your pussy folds, getting it all nice and wet, before sliding in—pushing the fat tip through your hole so easily and he’s bottoming out in one, fluid motion. “So fuckin’ good, darlin’.” 

Your eyes roll back, and your legs around him tighten as he pulls out—only to roll his hips against you, making you feel the heat of his skin flush against yours as he fucks his cock into your needy walls. 

He fucks you with his hands pinning you down to the counter by your hips—making your body jolt with every thrust—and tiny, wet moans get punched out of you as your mouth hovers against his. 

It causes your juices to gush out with every rock of his hips, making a mess on the counter, as loud and wet squelches fill the kitchen to show just how wrecked you are. 

And it all just adds to the feverish warmth that’s flooding your clit and lower belly—that tension building until it’s ready to snap again with every brush against your g-spot and—

And you don’t realize the fingers around your throat until you feel a slight pressure in your head, and heat pressing against the sides of your neck. 

And when your eyes—all wide and glossy—flit up to meet Atsumu’s—

He’s already looking right at you, watching you, focused to see your reaction—as if he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop—while still fucking your sensitive pussy. 

But you don’t. 

Instead, you let out a moan in approval, your eyelids dropping in response, and your cunt clenches around his girth as you kiss him softly, panting against his mouth with a soft mutter. “Harder.” 

And god—hearing that does astronomical things to his head and dick. 

“Fuck,” You feel his groan vibrate against you, all low and throaty, as his fingers grow firmer around your delicate throat—and his pace picks up as he starts to get needier for your sweet pussy. “Don’ think ‘mma last long, baby.”

He doesn’t let you respond.

Not when he’s quick to hitch your legs higher—and he uses his hold around your throat to push you down until your back is flat against the counter’s surface, and your eyes blow wide with a woosh of your breath escaping your lungs. 

“Ya think you can keep all f’me inside you, sweetheart?” He asks, voice so sweet and cooing as if he isn’t fucking your guts and making you choke as his body hovers over you, and he’s smirking down at you as he takes in just how good his hand looks around your neck. 

“I want this pretty lil pussy to get messy, kay?” 

Your eyes roll back when the pressure under your jawline grows, making you feel light-headed, and—

You should feel somewhat alarmed with how easily he can choke you. 

To hold the power over your body just like that—with no effort whatsoever. 

He’s stronger than you.

So much bigger than you. 

And his hands and fingers are dominating and heavy but—

But all you do is look up at him in submission, all hazy and eyes shiny with lust as your fingers wrap around his wrist as support, laying there and taking his cock as another orgasm rips out of you. 

You trust him to never hurt you—to take things too far. 

He’s always knew just how far to take things with you—to dance on that delicate line of risk and pleasure for you. 

It only takes another few strokes inside you, your g-spot overstimulated, for you to cum around him, electrified and feel like you’re floating as he fucks your pussy—all puffy and abused as it squirts so much on his dick and the counter—

And nothing but the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin fills your ears, and your entire body shakes when Atsumu moans so desperately against you.

And his hand never leaves your throat, even as he kisses every inch of your face to soothe and praise you while you cry from your orgasm—and he’s following soon after with his hot cum filling you up till your pussy is leaking both of your fluids everywhere. 

Getting you all messy like he said you would. 

end ♡

Masterpost

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #Hinata x reader #Hinata x reader smut #Tsukishima x reader #Tsukishima x reader smut #Atsumu x reader #Atsumu x reader smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu fic #Tsukishima Kei smut #Hinata Shouyou Smut #Atsumu Miya Smut #hinata smut #atsumu smut #haikyu smut #tsukishima smut

[autumnywinter]

Characters: Ayato, Baizhu, Kaeya, Kaveh, Wriothesley (aka my favorite genshin men)

Yandere!ex Ayato who can and will make your life a living hell. His guards are always following you, despite having broken up several months ago. If you manage to somehow evade his guards, there will be missing posters of you everywhere.

Yandere!ex Baizhu who will have Changsheng slip into your home and drug your food/drinks for him, so you'll always be coming back to him. Will drug you further each time, chiding you for leaving him. You're so helpless without him, you need him.

Yandere!ex Kaeya who will not stop following you. Lovingly (with a bitter undertone) coaxes you into getting back with him. If that doesn't work, he'll find a way to sabatoge all your relationships and any job you may have. Only a matter of time before you come crawling back to him.

Yandere!ex Kaveh who is desperate in every sense of the word. Writes you drunken letters about how much he misses you, tries following you everywhere so you can just talk it out. Gets increasingly frustrated, to the point where he's willing to do anything just to get your attention. He's going to build a mansion just for the two of you, remember?

Yandere!ex Wriothesley who tried to give you freedom, but looks like that didn't work out, huh? You took advantage of his generosity, and he doesn't intend on that happening again. Lucky for you, he's made you a little spot in his office for when he gets you back.

#yandere #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere ayato #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato #baizhu #yandere baizhu #kaeya alberich #yandere kaeya #genshin kaveh #yandere kaveh #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley #i have not played genshin in a while so this may be ooc but i needed to write for them

[naturesapphic]

Hey could you write a fanfiction with Nat x Reader who's very clingy. So one day one of the others Avengers comment Readers behavior and Reader gets very insecure and trys to stop clingyng on Nat.

So basically Fluff/Angst

Hope you like the idea at least a bit

Have a nice day!

Insecurities

Natasha romanoff x clingy!fem!reader

Warnings: some members of the team being mean, angry nat, hurt/comfort, cussing

You have been very distant from Natasha lately and she wonders why. She didn’t say or do anything wrong did she? She hoped she didn’t and even if she did, she would hope that you would come to her so y’all can work through it. Natasha was fixing her a peanut butter sandwhich when you came into the kitchen and saw her. You gave her a small smile and she gave you a bigger one.

“Hey sweetheart. I’ve missed you. Would you like to train with me? I was waiting and hoping you would join me.” She said hopefully and before you could answer snickering was heard which caused you to look behind you. Tony and Steve were standing there looking at you with judge filled eyes that made you uncomfortable. “Oh look! There’s Natasha’s clingy ass girlfriend! I bet she even follows nat to the bathroom to watch her use it!” Tony snickered as Steve laughed loudly, as they didn’t know Natasha was in the same room as them.

Tears filled your eyes as you brushed past your girlfriend and ran off into your room. Natasha felt herself lose it as she rounds the corner and see the two men she considered as friends still laughing but their faces turn pale as they see who’s in front of them. “O-oh hey nat…” Steve squeaked out as he tried to act innocent. Natasha went behind her back and pulled out two of her batons and shoved them against the wall with the deadly weapons against their throat.

“You hurt my girlfriend and made her cry. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.” She said lowly as she looked at them with killer eyes. “I-it was just a joke!” Steve sputtered out as he struggles against Natasha’s hold. “A fucking joke is supposed to be funny. My girlfriend crying and feeling bad about herself is NOT funny you fucking dick heads.” She growled and didn’t appreciate what they said so she turned on her batons which shocked both men.

They got electrocuted by the batons and fell to the floor on their faces which made Natasha smirk. She left them on the floor as they twitch every now and then and went to go after you. She found you in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. She shut the door and immediately sat beside you on your bed and took you into her arms. “No matter what they have said to you, I love when you are clingy to me babygirl.” Natasha reassured you as you nodded your head slowly.

“They keep making comments and making fun of me everytime you aren’t around…they always tell me how clingy and annoying I was and that soon you will see it too and leave me..” you sniffled as Natasha feels her heart break. “Oh dove…I could never hate how clingy you are to me and you never ever annoy me…you never could…” she reassured you and you smiled up at her. “And don’t worry about the boys…I’m plotting their deaths now and they won’t ever be mean to you again. Not as long as you are my girl.” She said with a smile as she kisses you softly on your lips which you immediately recuperated.

No matter what anyone has said or will say. Natasha loves when you are clingy and you will never annoy her for as long as you are alive.

A/n: I hope this is what you wanted anon and I hope you enjoyed it along with everyone else! Requests are still opened for all my characters and remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha avengers #natahsa romanoff #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha marvel #natasharomanoff #natasha #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson oneshot #scarlett johansson masterlist #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #black widow x fem!reader #black widow x fem reader #black widow x female reader #wlw blog #black widow fluff #black widow x you #black widow imagine #black widow mcu

[metalomagnetic]

After seeing about 50 'Dumbledore is evil' and 'everything is Dumbledore's fault' and 'but why didn't Dumbledore did this or the other' posts in a row, I find myself wishing Dumbledore just fucked off to somewhere nice and sunny in '81, early retirement (or is it early if he's already 100?) and washed his hands off magical Britain entirely.

Some of y'all sound like Fudge with your Dumbledore bashing. I wish, at least, Dumbledore would have left when Fudge and that corrupt as hell Ministry did their best to ruin his name and his image.

Pack up his ancient shit and move to a nice beach somewhere, with his pet bird and a huge bag of candy.

This way, my man Voldemort could have won in like five minutes, and Harry would be dead, Voldemort would rule supreme, Bella would keep being the queen she is, and my little Voldemort shaped heart would be happy.

But no, Dumbledore stayed, orchestrated Voldemort's downfall by giving Harry step by step instructions, gave up his own life in the process, made sure Harry would keep his, because apparently that's what 'evil men' do instead of retiring in comfort.

Not only Harry wouldn't have survived without Dumbledore, but he most likely wouldn't even exist without Dumbledore. Because, you know, this evil man is also the one that took down another dark lord back in the day; if Grindelwald would have won, there would be no Lily, most likely. Thus no Harry.

But yes, go get your 'Dumbledore is evil' badges- I hear Fudge and Umbridge are leaders of the hate club, I'm sure they'll receive new followers with open arms. Draco is probably the secretary, because he hates Dumbledore, too, and he likes making badges.

Also, can someone explain to me how Dumbledore, the only gay man in canon, became the fandom's resident homophobe? That's just weird, my friends. Very weird, to say the least. It gets even nastier when you say he 'groomed' students. That's an awful thing to throw around about a gay dude, you know?

There are so many reasons one can dislike Dumbledore for, but you do have the option to not like a flawed character without turning them into a ridiculous caricature of themselves.

P.S: I am not talking about fics. Write your fics and your characters however you want, whatever makes you happy. Your fic is your domain, and you do whatever you want in there, hopefully with no asshole to attack you in the comments. Same with reading- read what you want, bashing or no bashing. Have the best of fun!

I am talking about these 'meta' type posts on social media, tagged with "Albus Dumbledore", where they act as if canon Dumbledore was legit evil, incompetent or homophobic.

#albus dumbledore #marauders fandom #yes marauders fandom I am looking at you #harry potter #Dumbledore would forgive y'all but I can't #flawed character doesn't mean evil #it means he's just human

[spacesodaa]

I stumbled across your albedo avalanche fic and fell in love with your writing! I saw your requests were open and wondered if you would be happy to write one with aventurine and afab reader with a shot of angst? Perhaps they are working together and his love gets hurt?

Thank you so much for your works, BTW! ❤️❤️

Aww tysm!! I really appreciate you liked my writing 🥹 I had a lot of fun writing this, hope you like this as much as I do!

Aventurine x Reader - Back To You

Characters: Aventurine, Reader (afab)

Summary: Aventurine makes a risky move during a trade with some bandits and you get hurt in the process.

Warnings: blood, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: not proofread lmao

Aventurine watched in horror as you dove in front of him, catching the dart in his stead. He had calculated that provoking his possible business partners coult result in violence, but apparently he was horrible at math because never in a million years would he have expected you to take the shot for him. Not because he didn't think you would be apathetic to dire situations, but because he didn't think he was worth the trouble.

That was a reoccurring theme in your relationship, you have always had to remind him he was worth every effort you put in, even though his convictions were hard to break.

Aventurine deftly caught you before you could hit the rocky floor of the cave. It had been a risky move to meet the group of men in an isolated place like this, but again he had failed to take into account you had insisted to go with him and it wouldn't have been just his sorry ass to end in trouble.

The men grinned at him, seemingly satisfied with the result of their actions.

"This serves as your warning. You better lower your head sigonian trash" one of them said, before they all turned their backs on him and exited the cave. Another one of the men stopped right in front of the entrance and flashed him a toothy smile, waving. He pressed a button, causing a large rumble to erupt from right above the entrance. A cascade of rocks descended loudly, blocking the only exit.

Aventurine sat there stunned. It was clear to him now, that their intent was never really to negotiate, but to hurt him. Either directly or indirectly. If only he had insisted to go alone, you wouldn't have been in his arms progressively going limp. Only god knew what the hell was in the dart you had been shot with, so he quickly pulled it out from your belly, leaving an unhealthy purplish entry wound.

He shifted you in his grip and lowered to the ground with you. He sincerely hoped his phone would work in such a remote place. He fished it from his pocket, quickly typing the password, only to realize the rocks blocked whatever flimsy signal could reach this remote place. There were in fact, no bars in the signal indicator.

"Damn it" he muttered.

"Kakavasha..." He almost jumped out of his own skin at the sound of your voice. Aventurine brought you closer to his chest, your forehead burned against the exposed skin of his neck.

"Yes?" He hesitantly answered.

"It's not your fault" always straight to the point you were, piercing through the ungodly amount of walls he had built and reading past the facade.

"You shouldn't have jumped in front of me" Aventurine replied "what if that was a real gun and not a dart one?"

"And let you...get poisoned...?" Your words were starting to get lower, your gaze struggling to focus on anything.

"Yes! I provoked them! I miscalculated everything!" You could feel his hands shake as he held you.

"So...you must...pay the price...yeah no" you smiled bitterly, although your lips felt numb.

"It should have been my life in the gamble, not yours" he said in a defeated tone "I don't deserve you throwing yours away for me" the last part was muttered, but you heard it nonetheless.

"But you do...and the choice...is mine" you tried to say it as determined as you could muster. If the world was going to shit you would throw it away to save him in a matter of seconds. No questions asked.

The blonde man couldn't utter another word, just as you couldn't convince him to have some self worth, he couldn't convince you to give up on him. You were ride or die and he couldn't change that, maybe that was for the best. You had enough love to love him for himself too.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck and held onto you for dear life, as if it could cure you and you could keep rising next to him in the morning. What would he do if he lost you? He would lose everything once again, because as much as he didn't want to admit it to others, you were his everything.

He was scared, terrified you would draw your last breath any minute now. You didn't seem to be in pain, but you did look miserable. Your breaths were shallow and your skin was burning and covered in sweat as your body shook slightly.

Aventurine could only hope someone would notice you were gone - who would even notice a sigonian was missing? Maybe Topaz? - and come looking for you. At least he had had the good sense to leave your meeting location with Topaz.

He waited and waited, watching you slip away as the time passed. You had long lost consciousness and he could barely feel your shallow breaths against his neck.

"Please don't go..." He pleaded, eyes burning.

Your body felt numb, with a weird fuzziness in the background. It was similar to those old cathodic tube screens when no signal was available. A new type of 'annoying' you wished you hadn't learned existed.

With a bit of effort you managed to open your eyes and you were met with an unfamiliar room, dimly lit. It had white walls and some cabinets against the wall in front of you. To your left was a window with blinds obscured but you could see some light spill through the cracks. On the same side, right next to the bed were an IV bag (that you quickly realized was stuck in your arm) and a bunch of monitors beeping along with your heartbeat. Finally your eyes landed to your right, where Aventurine sat on a chair. He was leaning on the mattress of the bed you were on, head on his arms, hair completely disheveled shooting in every direction. Contrary to what one would expect from being in such a position, he was fast asleep. Even when you scooted a bit to sit up he didn't move an inch, which would have been normal if you were to be at home, but the room liked like one from a private hospital. To be this heavily asleep he must have been exhausted.

You reached your hand and gently smoothed over the rebellious locks, before switching to bushing your fingers through them as delicately as you could as to not wake him.

This was a rare sight, making you equal parts upset that you had caused it and in awe at the display of vulnerability. Most of the time he was wide awake before you so this was one of the few times you were able to watch him sleep.

The door opened slowly, revealing Topaz poking her head in. You smiled, waved at her followed by a quick gesture to keep quiet then pointing to your sleeping boyfriend.

She nodded and fully entered the room, closing the door behind her right after.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered once she was standing at your left, eyeing curiously Aventurine.

"Weird. Fuzzy?" You attempted, keeping your voice low. Which wasn't that hard because your throat was dry as hell so you couldn't talk as loud even if you tried.

"Yeah, we were told to expect something like this. The poison they used on you progressively numbs the body. We were lucky you were still breathing when I finally got to you two" she explained.

"I remember the dart. What happened after?" You asked, still petting Aventurine's hair.

"I don't know the details, but I found you two stuck in a cave and Aventurine was clutching onto you for dear life" Topaz said "I don't think I've ever seen him that terrified.

You frowned, knowing what you did, it was not hard to deduce his line of thought. He had lost so much and he had almost lost you.

If you hadn't jumped in front of him, it would have been him in your conditions and you couldn't bear the thought of that either.

"What did you guys end up doing with those 'clients'?"

"You mean the ones you two were meeting?" You hummed in response "I have no idea, Aven dealt with them a few days ago"

"Wait- a few days ago? How long have I been aslep??"

"About a week. I have never seen him leave this room more than a few minutes" she pointed to the man, who was still blissfully unaware. No wonder he was sleeping like a log.

Suddenly her phone started ringing and both of you cringed at the loud sound. Topaz quickly answered it and bolted out of the room.

The loud ringtone seemed to have been enough to disturb your boyfriend's sleep, as he let out a raspy groan in protest. You brushed his bangs away from his face and that got his attention. His head shot up, meeting your soft gaze and endearing smile.

"Y/n?" He asked, as if he couldn't believe you were there.

"Yes baby, I came back to you" he barely let you finish speaking before he bolted out of the chair to engulf you into an emotionally charged hug, a hand behind your shoulders and the other buried in your hair at the base of your neck.

"...I thought I had lost you for good" he muttered shakily "you wouldn't wake up..."

"I'm sorry to have worried you so much" you frowned, the conflictint feelings coming back full force.

"But you're going to do it again, aren't you?" He said it in a tone that was half amused and half utterly exasperated.

"Without a second thought. As much as you refuse to believe it, to me you're the world" you replied, gently prying him away from you to look at his face. You cupped his cheeks and watched intently as if you were trying to commit every detail to memory. Aventurine was simply lost in your eyes as you did, thinking of how a few hours ago he had thought he would never see them again.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, which he welcomed readily.

"Baby, you are so pale" you said, worried.

"Am I?" He cocked his head slightly "I haven't slept a wink aside from before" he chuckled, but it sounded tired. Now that he knew you were going to be okay the exhaustion was starting to take over once again.

"Why don't you cuddle with me? You can sleep and hold onto me, I won't go anywere" you smiled softly at him as you pulled him down onto the mattress with you. It didn't really take that much coaxing and soon he had his face buried into your plump chest as he held you from your middle.

"I love you" he muttered before falling asleep.

"I love you too"

#aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr oneshot #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr angst

[foxylady13]

SJM Interview and My Thoughts

Court of Maas has a transcript up of one of Sarah J Maas's interviews. There was some things I found very interesting from it.

Let's start with this one:

The "meeting a character and just knowing that they're the next story" screams Gwyn to me. Why? Because she was a new character that was introduced and Sarah had to meet. And Gwyn herself has lines in ACOSF that hint at more to come with her story (and Emeries)

“You had this much to say about us?” Emerie said, choking on a laugh. Gwyn rubbed her hands together. “With more to come.”

The back of her throat ached; her eyes stung. “We’re in a book.” Gwyn’s fingers slid into hers, squeezing tight. Nesta looked up to find her holding Emerie’s free hand as well. Gwyn smiled again, her eyes bright. “Our stories are worth telling.”

Also, Sarah's answer on the question if we'll get an Elain POV in the next book was met with "we'll see Elain in some form" which to me implies she's more than likely not the main character & that just adds to my previous statement.

Next we have this:

"She realized she wanted to write men who will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being 'the hero' themselves"

That screams like Azriel and Elain are a no go since we know Azriel likes being the hero when it comes to her. Just look at him going to Hybern Camp with Feyre to try to play hero... or what about in ACOSF when Cassian talks about Elain being captured and this is what was said by Azriel:

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all."

Azriel is "the hero" and will always insist that way with Elain. He's not the one for Elain.

But you know the pairings where the men will do everything together with their partner and not insist on being the hero for their partners? Gwynriel and Elucien.

We already see this with Azriel and Gwyn. He couldn't be the hero for Gwyn when she went into the Blood Rite because of the laws even Rhysand couldn't break. He even tells Cassian they trained them well and to trust in that training.

“There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.”

The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. “You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.”

Also, here are even some ideas of them doing things together that fit with their pairings:

Elucien

Traveling to different courts & explore the world together. Hosting parties and being politically savvy.

Gardening - I actually have a commission of this I'll post soon 🤭

Cooking/Baking - Lucien will want to help Elain and it's something I can see then enjoying doing together given their personalities.

Gwynriel

Spy missions. Training. Singing.

Research in the library for universe theories or general reading & just imagine them sitting up in bed together reading passages to one another, analyzing them, theorizing. Thank you @alex-catlady for this one!

Flying - Gwyn on a Pegasus and Azriel flying beside her. Maybe even making into a race for a little competition? Azriel flying with Gwyn in his arms.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #elucien #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acosf #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #lucien and elain #elain and lucien #anti e/riel #lucien x elain #elain x lucien #azriel and gwyn

[sporesgalaxy]

no one asked but in japanese pierro would not be bold enough to use masculine self-pronouns in normal non-piratey circumstances. however. men still use "watashi" when they are being very very formal/polite. this implies a scenario in which pierro first meets either buggy or a buggy pirate, and probably has to fight them, and they assume he is a guy despite the watashi pronouns because he's just being that profusely polite (during a fight). this is not at all out of character for pierro and i need to write that so bad when I have time. over-the-top politeness also follows well with pierro's stupid nickname for buggy being "Mr. The Clown."

I just love the idea of pierro being habitually apologetic and polite but it like very obviously being a front that breaks when he's thrown off balance or drunk. this has always been true i just didnt think of it structurally as a juxtaposition until now. teehee.

#blood #1pc #centipierre

[prostocupoftea]

Kinitopet Programmers AU

finally i am finished with this one, daaaamn

it is hard to draw pathetic men with midlife crisis when your style is mostly for anime boys

more info and sketch version under the cut!!

sketch version aka how it'll probably look like in comic version 'n some doodles

srry for my writing but i was too laisy to put it as regular text

It is a plot-based au, i already have most of the storybits and like... a vibe-chart (i tried to make a playlist for this au and understood that for different chapters and different characters that'd be a copleatly different music, sooo it's a chart now :) )

i will post a fog-o-wared timeline that im hopefully gonna reveal comic-by comic, but also maybe with just pure writing. Hopefully i can include songs that i chose for them into it but we'll see (:

aaand of course designs can change, hopefully not much but we'll see

Now about au:

Main story:

Story follows non-sentient AI Kinito, his creator Sonny and his beta-tester Victoria (oc)

Being literally the first AI (or RRA in-univere) ever, Kinito does not have any, and i mean, any ai safety features so of course his reponce to a goal phrased as "have user near me and/or interacting with me as much as possible" is digitizing them into his own virtual world while killing them in the process. why wouldn't it be?

So that happened. Like, a lot. And with Sonny and Vic too (at the different time but yeah)

Sonny is like "He kills people. We should turn him off because, you know, killing people is bad."

Vic is like "well, we will die if we do that, and it is not that bad here, we are kinda immortal. We should give him acces to changing his initial instalation code before admin priveleges and acces to social media so we can have everythin we want here. It is not that bad to digitize humanity, yk?" and yes i know it is 90, no social media, but shut up, if they made ai then, then i can make twitter then too

Sonny is like "...no??"

And then they fight about it for million chapters

Also they both can't do anything without agreeing bc they have two parts of that admin access key (the data you use to delete kinito in-game) so they are stuck with eachother (also that's why Kinito can't just kill them)

Little facts that may or may not to be important:

Kinito asks so many questions (and weird once too) and has most of the glitches because he needs to analise your responces to copy your mind perfectly (let's pretend that people wouldn't lie about that...)

Your house in your virtual world is made from important places from your memories and oh boy can i do character explorations with this one

I decided that Sonny and Vic are not related. There were thoughts about making then "The Kinito Brothers" (or, at least, siblings) that were mentioned in commercial, but nah, they are just coworkers now. And a bit of work-friends (bc if you interact a lot as a manager of the project and the best worker might as well be friendly)

Author has no idea how small dying toy companies that accidentally create technological marvel work. Author has some idea how AI-s work. So be prepared to be spoon-fed info abut which ai safety problem we are dealing with in which chapter (:

Kinito will mostly be unrendered (as drawn here) but for some cool moments i might pose him as for my other posts. Also his eye placement changes to the side that is most visible because i want him to be able to look to the right side sometimes--

Also when i say "fucked up mentally" i mean they have that them psychological problems with me projecting heavilly B) (guess on who i project most. trick question. all of them. the whole au is my problems split into three characters and forced to interact B) )

Also sea-creature analogies (that are gonna be mentioned like twice):

Victoria is a flying fish because deep character reasons

Sonny is a pufferfish because i said so

oh also there is 7 deaths in the plot as for now

on 3 characters

good luck figuring out who, how and when ((:

for my own sanity i will probably make little doodles where everything is great and kinito is a good guy and not a number-obsessed maniac (i mean... can u imagine not being able to feel any happiness from anything besides one thing... damn...) and you can differenciate them bc good-guy kinito will have a lot of stickers on him (i will explain it somehow but real reason is just bc it is cute af)

like this but even more stickers (he is unfinished here)

#oh btw. i have no official name for it yet. it is programmers bc main characters are programmers. but like. #i want to make a real name for em somewhere down the line #but for now they are #kinitopet programmers au #i was really stressing about how “not-canon” sonny looks #and then i was like. girl. only time he was in canon he was a black blob with one eye. and even that is not surely him. #so i chilled out. as i should B) #i am so tired from this rn tho #kinitopet #kinito pet #kinitopet au #kinito the axolotl #kinitopet fanart #kinito fanart #sonny c #kinitopet sonny #sonny chamberlain #kinitopet oc #bruh i hope this will go better than my hazbin hotel fic (i still want to write it sooo muchhhhhh--- i love my oc and story i am just----- #out of the fandom rn----- damn thats so sad)

[olderthannetfic]

The issue isn't just "there are less female characters and characters of color to begin with, there's usually only one for every cast of four or five cishet white men," but also that even in media that makes an effort to be diverse, the fact that people are so desperate to avoid stereotypes inadvertently means that the cishet white male characters end up being the most human and interesting because they're allowed to be in ways minority characters aren't. I don't want to accuse anyone of "inserting politics into fiction," that's not necessarily what my issue is, but it's frequently very obvious when a creator is so obsessed with avoiding stereotypes that it hinders their ability to actually write convincingly human characters. It feels like the characters exist just to be subversive and earn brownie points. And you can never win! You write an Asian woman that's not interested in sex? You're infantilising her. You write an Asian woman that's flirtatious? Fetishising her. You write a black woman that's cold? Mean black woman trope. You write a black woman that's warm? Mammy trope. You write a gay man that's not interested in romance? You have to depict gay romance onscreen for it to "count." You write a gay character that's flirtatious? You're just depicting him as a cock-obsessed maniac. You write a minority character with a good life? You're santitising oppression. You write a minority character with a bad life? That's trauma porn. There might well be people out there that say "there are no compelling female characters or characters of color" because they inherently don't find women or people of color interesting and that's their issue. But when I'm presented with media with an actually diverse cast of characters, where there are lots of characters of many different genders, races and sexualities written in different and interesting ways like Borderlands, a lot of my favorite characters end up being women and people of color! Surprise!

--

And even the media that's doing a bit better will often reserve certain roles like the funny geek for the white guys. (Boo!)

There's media that doesn't fall into this trap, but it's common enough to have an unfortunate effect in aggregate.

[physalian]

10 More Character Types the World Needs More of

Part 1 was specifically character dynamics, but I’m considering this a sequel anyway.

1. Fiercely independent character’s lesson isn’t to “trust people”

I’m not projecting. You’re projecting. There is a divide wide enough to fit the Grand Canyon between “trusting that someone isn’t lying” and “trusting someone to follow through on a promise”. Most dumpster fire attempts at these characters (almost exclusively women) rely solely on mocking them for the former because “not all men” or something.

Being consistently let down in life makes you hesitant to a) gain friends, b) pursue romantic interests, c) maintain familial relationships, d) get excited about any event that demands participation from someone who isn’t you. None of this is simply a bad attitude—it’s a trauma response. There is no lesson to be learned, and not even exposure therapy can help because it’s a real, legitimate, and common stunt people pull, whether they mean it or not.

So write one of these characters and legitimize their fears, give them someone who proves the exception to the rule, but do not let the lesson be “well they just haven’t found the right person yet”. Even the “right person” can let them down. It's about not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy by sabotaging a good thing to prove it will inevitably go bad.

2. Conventionally attractive men who aren’t horndogs

I’m going to find every way I can to tell you to write more aces. This is to fight the stigma that attractive people must be attracted to people. Give me gorgeous aces and demi’s, men, women, enbys and everyone in between, who put a crap ton of effort into looking their best, and yet happen to not have a very loud libido. They look good for themselves, and not to impress anyone else.

Give me someone who could have anyone they wanted, gender regardless, and just simply has no interest. Or, they do actually have a significant other, but sex, how hot their partner is, or how horny they are, isn’t their internal monologue. I don’t even care if it’s unrealistic, it’s annoying to read.

And, you know, giving men male characters who aren’t thinking about sex all the time can be good, right? Right?

3. Manly warrior men who also write poetry

A.K.A Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. Just give me more Aragorns, period. This dude is either covered in filth, blood, guts, and the last 30 miles of rugged terrain, or singing in Elvish at his own coronation while pink flower petals fall. A man can be both, and still be straight.

A man can also drink Respect Women juice, you know? He ticks off all the boxes—he’s gentle when he needs to be, not afraid to hide his emotions, kind to those who are vulnerable and afraid and need a strong figure to look up to, resolute in his beliefs, skilled and knowledgeable in his abilities without being arrogant or smug, and the first boots on the battlefield, leading from the front.

4. Characters who are characters when no one is watching

This is less a specific type and more a scene that doesn’t get written enough. This whole point comes from Pixar’s Cars. I. Love. This. Movie. It’s not Pixar’s best, for sure, but this is my comfort movie. The best scene, one that’s so unique, is when Doc (aged living legend) thinks he’s alone when he rolls out onto the dirt race track and comes alive tearing around the oval.

This character’s unbridled, unabashed glee and euphoria at proving to himself that he’s still got it, when he’s completely unaware of his audience, is perfection. Not enough credence is given to characters to just… enjoy being themselves. He’s not doing it to prepare for the climactic race, he’s not doing it for the plot, he’s doing it just to do it, not even to prove Lightning wrong—just for himself.

Give your characters a “Doc Racing” scene. Whatever their skill is. Maybe they’re a dancer, a skater, a swimmer, a painter, sprinter. Just let your character love being alive.

5. Characters whose neurodivergence isn't “cute”

A.K.A. Lilo Pelekai from Lilo and Stitch. Really, her relationship with Nani is peak sibling writing. But Lilo herself is just so realistic with how she interacts with the world, how she interprets her relationships with her so-called friends, how she organizes her thoughts and rationalizes what she can’t quite understand, and how friggen smart she is for an… 11-year-old?

But she’s not “cute”. As in, she wasn’t written by generic Suits who were trying to cash in on the ND crowd by writing what they think will sell, but also making her juuust neurotypical enough to still be palatable by the rest of the audience. Lilo’s earnestness is what endears her to everybody. But also, she doesn’t get a free pass for her behavior, either. Her “friends” aren’t forced to accommodate her and Nani isn’t written as the cold-hearted villain for trying to discipline her.

6. Straight male characters with female friends

Am I double-dipping a bit here? Yes. While I completely understand how tempting it can be, this type of character is in dire need of exposure and representation to prove it’s possible. No weird tense moments, no double-glances when she isn’t looking, no contemplations about cheating on his girlfriend (and no insecure jealous girlfriend either). Just two characters who enjoy each other’s company and are able to coexist in a space and be in each other’s spaces without hormones getting in the way. Peak example? Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.

Let these two rely on each other for emotional strength in times of need, let them share inside jokes, let them have a night alone together at a bar, at home, cooking dinner, getting takeout, talking on the patio in a porch swing… with zero “will they/won’t they.”

7. The likable bigot

I’m actually on the fence with this one but it’s something I also don’t see done often enough and I’m adding it for one reason: Bigots aren’t always obvious mustache-twirling villains and the little things they do might seem inconsequential to them, but are still hurtful. So showing these characters is like plopping a mirror down in front of these people and, I don’t know, maybe something will click. They don’t have to be MAGAs to be dangerous, and only writing the extremes convinces the moderates that they aren’t also the problem.

Example: I have a “friend” who recently said something along the lines of “I have lots of gay friends” followed up shortly by “I don’t think this country should keep gay marriage because it’s a slippery slope to legalizing pedophilia.” You know. The quiet part being that she *actually* thinks being gay is as morally abhorrent as being a pedo. But she totally has lots of gay friends. Including one who was driving her during that conversation. (It’s me. Hi. I’m apparently the problem, it’s me.)

She’s absolutely homophobic, but the second she stops announcing it, she’s a very bubbly person. She’s a ~likable~ bigot and thus thinks she can distance herself from the more violent ones.

8. The motherly single father

I say “motherly” merely as shorthand for the vibe I’m going for here. “Motherly” as in dads who aren’t scandalized by the growing pains of their daughters, and who don’t just parent their sons by saying “man up boys don’t cry”. Dads who play Barbie with their kids of either gender. Dads who go to the PTA meetings with all the other Karens and know as much if not more than they do about the school and their kids’ education.

Dads who comfort their crying kids, especially their sons. Dads that take interest in “feminine” activities like learning how to braid their daughter’s hair, learning different makeup brands, going on nail salon trips together. Dads who do not pull out the rifle on their daughter’s new boyfriend and treat her like property. Dads who have guy friends that don’t mock him and call him gay. Dad who does all this stuff anyway and is *actually* gay, too, but the emphasis is on overly sensitive straight men’s masculinity here.

Wholesome dads: a shocking amount of single-parents to female anime protagonists.

9. The parent isn’t dead, they’re just gone

Treasure Planet is an awesome movie in its own right, but what’s even better? This is a Disney movie where the parent isn’t dead, he’s just a deadbeat who abandoned his son and isn’t at all relevant to the plot beyond the hole he left behind for Jim to fill. The only deadbeat dads Disney allows are villains and those guys are very vigorously chasing an aspiration, that aspiration just doesn’t include quality fatherhood. Or motherhood. Disney has yet to write a deadbeat mom, I’m almost certain.

I just wrote a post about the necessity of the “dead parent” cliche, but what is perhaps more relatable because it’s more common, and what earns even more sympathy and underdog points for the protagonist? The hero with the parent who left. Then there’s a whole extra layer of angst and trauma available when your hero can now plague themselves with the question of if the parent leaving is their fault. Death is usually an accident. Choosing to abandon your kid is on purpose.

10. Victim who isn’t victim-blamed or told by their friends (and the narrative) to forgive their abuser

Izuku Midoriya lost so much support from me the moment he told his friend, bearing the consequences of domestic violence across half his face, that Midoriya thinks he’ll be ready soon to forgive his abomination of a father. I am firmly in the “Endeavor is a despicable human and hero” camp and no I’m not taking criticism. I audibly gasped when I heard this line and realized Deku was serious. Todoroki needs friends like the Gaang to remind him that he's allowed to hate the man who's actions caused the burn scar across his f*cking face.

I understand that the mangaka apparently didn’t anticipate the vitriolic backlash toward Endeavor during his debut and reveal of his parenting tactics but the tone-deafness of telling a fifteen year old with crippling emotional management issues and a horrible home life that his abusive dad in any way deserves and is entitled to forgiveness on the grounds of being related is disgusting.

Take it back further to a more famous Tumblr dad: John Winchester. Another despicable human who got retroactively forgiven by his sons after his death in a “he wasn’t so bad, he really did try” campaign. It’s one thing if the character believes it, it’s a whole different matter if the narrative is also pushing this message.

Katara is a perfect example: She lets go of her grudge for her own peace of mind and stops blaming Zuko for something he had no hand in, stops blaming him simply because he’s a firebender and he’s around to be her punching bag. She doesn’t forgive the man who killed her mother, because that man doesn’t deserve her forgiveness. Katara heals in spite of him, not because of him, and had she let him off the hook, she would have gotten an apology for getting caught, not for what he did (which is exactly what happened).

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #character design #character development #aragorn #pixar cars #kung fu panda #lilo and stitch #treasure planet #atla #katara #my hero academia

[mxmmyprentiss]

she cared (she was just scared)

Summary: You and Emily have known each other since you were fifteen. Back in Rome, she had a hard time fitting in and you were one of her friends, along with John Cooley and Matthew Benton. She was closer friends to you first but she and Matthew spent more time together months before he died. When Matthew passed away, him being a mutual friend of yours, it somehow felt that your connection with her died too. Genre: Angst (with happy ending) Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: mentions of abortion, homophobia, catholic/religious guilt, implied suicide of minor character Word count: 7.4K

A/N:

This is basically inspired by Criminal Minds S4E17 Demonology and Kat Victoria's song called "Scared". Sorry for any and all grammar, spelling and other writing mistakes. I've been dealing with writer's block recently and I finished this fic just to keep my gears going. I'm not really satisfied how this fic turned out but I hope it's okay enough to read lol.

All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome. Thank you :)

AO3

You and Emily have known each other since you were fifteen. Back in Rome, she had a hard time fitting in and you were one of her friends, along with John Cooley and Matthew Benton. She was closer friends to you first but she and Matthew spent more time together months before he died. When Matthew passed away, him being a mutual friend of yours, it somehow felt that your connection with her died too.

You haven’t seen Emily since Matthew’s funeral. You saw her sitting in the last row during the funeral mass. You tried to find her after but she was already gone. You and John stayed a bit longer when everyone had gone home, reminiscing about your friend who had gone too soon.

Since that day, it wasn’t just Matthew who left you. Your friends drifted away one by one. First came Emily. Then, eventually, John became too busy to hangout. Matthew took a part of you and your friends with him.

So you learned to be on your own.

Your friends didn’t keep in touch with you and you are with them. But you wish they had. It was a short-lived friendship but it was the best year you ever had.

It was a month later that you found out through one of your teachers that Emily and her mother flew back to America. She didn’t say goodbye; not to you or John. But the next day, you found an envelope with a picture of you, Matthew, Emily and John posing just outside of the church during the first fall of snow. It was taken five months before Matthew passed. There wasn’t a note or anything at the back of the photograph but it’s safe to say it was from Emily. It was her camera that you used.

It was during the first year of college that you saw Emily again. She looked different now. She had thick eyeliner, black lipstick and a leather choker on her neck. Her dark hair was all over the place and you’re absolutely sure, her fashion choices would send her mother into a coma (if she wasn’t already in one yet). Emily looked different but you’re sure it was her.

Your eyes met for a brief moment until she looked away and asked two muscular men behind her to help her carry her suitcases. You looked the other way too.

You finally reached the women’s dormitory after being lost on campus for fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that far from the university apparently. You just sucked at following people’s directions.

Once everything was settled at the lobby, you hiked to your room. Just your luck, the elevator was under maintenance and you had to drag two suitcases and a duffle bag all the way to the third floor using the stairs.

When you reached the third floor - second room to the left, you kept mumbling to yourself - the door was already open. Your roommate probably already beat you there. You just hope she would be friendly and not hoard all the living room space.

You stopped at the door upon seeing a familiar figure. Emily was already setting up her desk in the first room. Her suitcases were open in her bed. She must have sensed you standing at the door. Emily glanced at you. She didn’t smile so you didn’t either.

“Do you need help?” Emily asked. “I hope you don’t mind that I already took this room. I don’t like the sunrise.”

“It’s fine.” You replied, lifting your bags to your room. You started unpacking your things.

Both of your doors remained open. There was unsettling silence in the air as the two of you finished unpacking. You didn’t know why. You two were friends - good old friends - and you should be catching up after not seeing each other for a long time. Instead there’s this.

You wanted to ask Emily a lot of things. You wanted to start at her interesting goth phase; although no amount of make up could mask her big brown eyes. You also wanted to ask her how she’d  been; tell her you tried to write to her but you didn���t know where to send it, so the letters piled up and hidden in the pockets of your suitcase.

You felt a poke on your shoulder. “Do you mind if I put up a curtain?” Emily pointed at the big window in the middle of the living room. “My migraine can get bad if there’s too much light.”

“Go ahead. It’s fine.”

“Can you help me?”

“Sure.”

You stepped on the table to reach for the rod. Emily’s hand landed on your leg, supporting you. You put up the curtain. The room went dim but definitely much better for the eyes now. Emily guided you down.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Emily smiled.

“Emily,” You called her. You leaned against her doorframe. She glanced at you. “H-how have you been?”

Emily sat on her bed and continued folding her clothes. When she didn’t speak for two minutes, you gave up on waiting for her reply. You were about to leave when she spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” Emily blurted out. “For not saying goodbye in Rome.”

“It’s alright,” You lied. Of course, it wasn’t alright. She was your friend and she left you. “Your mom travels a lot so…”

Your eyes met Emily’s. She was always hard to read and until now, it’s true.

“It wasn’t just that.” Emily sighed, running her hands through her hair but caught up in the knots. You suppressed your chuckle with a bite of your lower lip. “When Matthew died, I was all over the place. He was my friend and I had a hard time accepting he was gone.”

“So did I.” You mumbled. “And I was your friend too.”

“I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything. You sat on your bed and continued unpacking. And as you do so, the silence lingered in the air again.

—

Surprisingly, Emily’s goth phase in college only lasted the day she moved in your dorm. You bet yourself it would last longer but the next day happened. You saw the ambassador’s car in the parking lot and recognized the two armed men in black waiting outside your dorm room; the same ones that helped Emily with her baggage when she moved in. It was Emily’s mother. You never met her in person before but Emily had one family picture of her in her wallet during her stay in Rome.

One of the bodyguards requested that you wait in the lobby and you did. They were too intimidating for you to do otherwise.

Emily didn’t speak to you about it but after the surprise visit from her mother, everything changed. She didn’t wear short skirts with fishnets again. Instead, Emily either wore light-colored blouses or plain long sleeves polos and jeans. She no longer wore makeup except for the lip gloss. Not that Emily needed it anyway. She was always beautiful in a way that makes you wonder why God has favorites. 

The sullen look on her face was consistent for almost a week. You wanted to ask if she’s okay. Few attempts were made but Emily had walls higher than the Great Wall.

You have known Emily for only a year during your stay in Rome. It wasn’t a long time but at least, she was more open then, more trusting and carefree. You wonder what happened to that girl you used to know.

—

You met Jennifer Jareau in one of your classes. She was kind and bubbly and lets you borrow her notes when you’re late in class. You two clicked so fast and became inseparable. She insisted you call her “JJ” instead of “Jennifer”.

JJ sat next to you in the cafeteria. She laid her tray down; mac and cheese, sliced apples, orange juice and a small bag of Cheetos.

“Do you want to go to a party tonight?” JJ asked, munching on the Cheetos first. “Derek invited me and he said I could bring a plus one.”

“Derek Morgan? You’re friends with him?”

JJ nodded. “We have two classes together.”

“Don’t tell me you’re crushing on the freshman manwhore.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “He’s actually a good guy. Just very flirty.”

“Where’s the party?”

“Palm Paradise. It’s not that far from your dorm.”

“I don’t know where that is. Is it a bar?”

“Yeah, a big one.”

“Oh, I don’t like big scenes.”

“Come on, I’ll be with you the whole time.” JJ tugged your arm, pleading, “Please.”

JJ was looking at you with her best puppy eyes with a matching pout and you couldn’t say no. “Fine. Just stop looking at me like that.”

“God, you’re so easy.” JJ smirked. “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

—

You and JJ arrived at Palm Paradise together. The place was already filled with college students, most of whom were freshmen. The loud music and smell of booze filled the air. You tugged JJ’s arm and pointed at Derek Morgan dancing with a blonde. JJ called for him and immediately ran to greet JJ and then you. Derek introduced his best friend, Penelope. You doubted they’re just best friends though because for the five minutes that you’ve known them, they already flirted at least four times.

You were sitting on the couch with a cold beer in hand. JJ was sitting beside you and gossiping with Penelope.

The floor was crowded with drunk dancing and grinding college students. You got startled when the crowd roared when a girl with a long red wig and thick glasses stood on the table and lifted her shirt up, revealing a crimson bra.

“Damn, she’s hot.” JJ whispered in your ear.

“And drunk.” You chuckled.

When the girl clumsily alighted from the table, her wig and glasses fell. Then, you met her gaze. You know who those eyes belong to. You couldn’t be wrong.

Emily.

“Hey!” Emily stumbled towards you, clearly intoxicated. “You are here too!”

“S-so are you.” You took her arm and guided her to sit on the couch. “You are so drunk.”

“‘m not.” Emily slurred. She tried to stand up but quickly fell back to her seat. She laughed. “It’s spinny.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s …” You glanced at Emily whose eyes were closed and head was thrown back at the couch. “She’s my roommate.”

Emily reached for your hand, giggling. “You are so pretty! Why do you always frown?”

“I don’t frown.”

JJ took a quick look at you. “You’re frowning now.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, take her side.”

Emily suddenly pulled your hand causing you to trip over and fall on her lap. JJ and Penelope pursed their lips to suppress a grin.

“What are you doing?” You asked Emily who only smiled drunkenly. Despite being roommates, this was the closest you and Emily have been for the past few weeks and you’re suddenly aware of the pounding in your chest. “Do you need to go home?”

Emily shook her head, still with a tipsy smile on her face. She fiddled the collar of your shirt. “Only if you -” She leaned in, bumping your noses together. “- are coming with me.”

“Y/N, I think she’s drunk. You should take her home.” JJ said.

“But -”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll hang out with Penelope.”

“She’ll be safe with me. I won’t leave her, I promise.” Penelope assured you.

“Okay, leave me a message when you guys get home.” You stood up and put Emily’s arm on your shoulder, guiding her as she stood up. “Let’s go, drunkie.”

Dragging an intoxicated Emily home was harder than you thought. She threw up twice on the sidewalk before even getting in the cab. You had to keep supporting her as she walked too because she kept tripping. But the worst part of it all was that Emily was a flirty and touchy drunk. During the short cab ride, Emily couldn’t keep her hands off your neck, running her fingers up and down your collar, and squeezing your bicep. She kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear and the fluttery feeling in your chest was getting out of hand.

When you reached the dorm, Emily was already passed out so you carried her on your back, praying over and over that she won’t throw up on you. The elevator ride was quick but the walk to your room wasn’t. Emily’s head kept sliding on your shoulder and she’s falling so you had to make a few stops.

You laid Emily down on the sofa when you finally arrived at your dorm room. Her bedroom was locked and you contemplated on whether to just leave her passed out in the living room or not.

“Emily,” you whispered, tucking a hair behind her ear. “Emily, do you have your key?” Her only answer was an annoyed groan. You sighed. How many drinks did she actually have? 

You carried Emily on your back again and transported her to your bed. You figured that tomorrow would be a hell of a hangover and she would be more comfortable here than the sofa. You tucked her into your bed and you left her a glass of water and ibuprofen on the bedside for when she wakes up.

You settled on the couch tonight.

—

Emily woke up to a throbbing migraine. The sunlight didn’t make it any better.

Sunlight?

Emily scanned the room. There were movie posters hanging on the wall, a stack of books on the desk and a pile of mixtapes neatly arranged on the shelf. This was definitely not her room.

She drank a glass of water and ibuprofen on the bedside table.

Emily breathed out loud when she realized she’s in her dorm and didn’t end up somewhere unsafe. She found you sleeping soundly on the sofa. Emily accidentally hit her knee on a table beside the sofa. The curse that came from her lips jolted you awake.

“Hey, you’re up.” You said groggily, sitting up. “How are you feeling?”

“Like there’s a rammer inside my head and it’s moving on its own.”

You laughed at her creativity. “Yes, well, alcohol does that.”

“I don’t remember most of what happened. Did you bring me home?”

You nodded. “I had to carry you on my back. You passed out.”

Emily grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” You assured her.

“Did I - did I do something embarrassing last night?”

You smirked. “You bet.”

Emily groaned, head on her hands. “I’m never drinking again.”

“You flashed the entire bar.”

“I did?!”

“You did.” You laughed. “You got up on the table and pulled your shirt up. The red bra looks nice, by the way.”

Emily checked the bra underneath her shirt. “Oh, fuck.” She sighed, disappointed and embarrassed about her actions.

“Everyone was drunk, anyway. They probably won’t remember.”

“You weren’t.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t. And JJ and Penelope.”

“Who?”

“My friends.”

“Oh.” Emily’s face turned red. “I-I’m sorry.”

You took Emily’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay, Emily. It’s not bad to have fun.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. You haven’t seen her smile in a while.

—

Everything changed between you and Emily since the party. She talked to you more. She smiled more. She no longer avoided your presence despite living in the same apartment. It felt like you were friends again just like before when there were four of you. Except now it’s just two.

Emily was pulling an all-nighter at the living room. She was walking back and forth, reading passages and repeating it back to herself to memorize. You tried not to distract her by tiptoeing quietly to the kitchen to make some midnight snacks.

You made two sandwiches; one for you and one for Emily. You left hers on the center table and she mouthed a thank you and you nodded in return.

You left your bedroom door open just enough so you could peer at Emily. You watched her walk back and forth. The bags under her eyes were visible. She’s been pulling all nighters three times a week for a month now. She's obviously exhausted. Midterms were coming and Emily Prentiss was nothing but an overachiever.

After an hour, Emily finally rested on the sofa. She stretched her legs, placing her feet on the center table. Her breaths were loud and erratic.

“You should take a break. Get some rest.” You told her worriedly.

“I’m okay, Y/N. I only have one more chapter to read.” She replied, eyes closed. “Why are you not sleeping yet?”

Because you weren’t.

“Not yet sleepy. I had coffee.”

“You don’t drink coffee,” she snorted.

There was that fuzzy feeling in your stomach again because Emily remembered. She remembered that you didn’t like coffee. It’s silly to feel pleased about that.

Emily eventually fell asleep on the couch around 3 a.m. You found her textbook snuggled to her chest and she was clutching her notes in her hand. You snatched a blanket from your room and tucked her in.

You were going back to your room to sleep when you heard Emily talking in her sleep. It’s hard to make out what she was saying. It went on for a minute until Emily started frantically shaking her head and the mumbles grew louder. Emily was calling for your name, then Matthew, then John.

“Emily,” You tapped her shoulder. Nothing. “Emily, wake up.” You stroked her face gently as you tapped her leg. “Emily, wake up.”

Emily’s eyes snapped open, face now covered in cold sweat. She looked around, suspicious that whatever it was in her nightmare followed her here.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, Em.” You promised her, squeezing her arm. “Do you need anything?”

Emily took a couple of deep breaths. “Can you … can you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” You cleared your throat. “I mean, sleep in my bed with me. Sleep sleep, not sleep sleep.”

If she didn’t just have a bad dream, Emily would have laughed. She only nodded.

You woke up the next morning with your head on Emily’s chest and her arms wrapped around you. Her breaths were synchronized with your own like a lovely duet. Her scent filled your head.

—

Emily sleeping with you in your room had become a routine. Sometimes you slept in hers too but she insisted that your mattress was far more comfortable.

“I thought you hated sunlight.” You murmured one night, your backs facing each other. “But you liked sleeping here.”

“I don’t hate you.” She murmured back.

I don’t hate you.

You wanted to ask Emily what it meant because when it came to her, things were rarely black and white. Did it mean she liked you? Love is the opposite of hate, after all, so did that mean that she loved you? Or is it just something she said without thinking and didn’t mean anything by it at all?

You wanted to ask her but there’s something caught up in your throat and you decided not to.

Emily was the one to fall asleep first. You lied in bed unmoving, staring at the window, crescent moon peeking into view.

You felt Emily’s arm wound around your stomach. She pulled you closer to her, hugging you. You could feel her breathing on your neck. She was still sleeping soundly.

You decided you can worry about this some other time. Because right now, it felt right.

—

“Hey, angel.” JJ was standing outside your door, holding takeouts and a notebook. “I thought I’d drop by and let you borrow my notes. Also I bought you chicken soup.”

“You didn’t have to, JJ.” You smiled and let her in. “Can I get you anything? Water? Juice?”

“No, I’m okay.” JJ placed a hand on your forehead. “You’re still burning up. Have you taken your meds yet?”

“I just did. Waiting for it to kick in.”

JJ was telling you about something funny that happened in Professor Rossi’s class when Emily came in with the biggest smile on her face but it was suddenly gone when she spotted you and JJ sitting on the couch.

“Hi,” JJ waved at her and Emily waved back with an awkward smile. “I just dropped by to bring my notes to Y/N and give her soup.”

“That’s … thoughtful?” Emily raised her eyebrow, confused as to why was your friend telling her that.

“Yeah, she told me she was sick -”

“You’re sick? You said you didn’t have classes.” Emily quickly placed a hand on your forehead then to your neck. “You’re hot.” She glared at you when you wiggled your eyebrows. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my meds and my soup.” You grinned. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You’re welcome.” JJ stood up. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow? Leave me a message, okay?”

“I will.”

JJ hugged you and kissed your cheek. You glanced at Emily, clenching her jaw, one eyebrow raised. “Get better fast.” JJ ruffled your hair before leaving.

When you turned around, Emily was glaring at you, arms crossed. You stared blankly. She didn’t say anything and marched to her bedroom. Before you could ask what’s wrong, she already slammed the door.

Emily didn’t crawl to your bed that night nor did she talk to you the next morning. But she left you cooked meals in the kitchen until you felt better.

—

It was five days later when Emily started speaking with you again. Truthfully, you were getting tired of the quick, sidelong glances she was throwing at you the past few days. You tried to make conversation but she quickly hid in her room every time. She didn’t even ask to sleep in your room when you heard her kicking and crying during another nightmare and you were there to wake her up.

Emily was cooking breakfast in the kitchen and asked if you wanted to have some. You nodded, smiling. You didn’t know what you did wrong but at least she’s not ignoring you anymore.

She prepared a plate for you; pancakes, bacon and hash brown. She poured orange juice on your glass. “Here you go,” she said, sliding the plate towards you. “I couldn’t make the pancakes round so you’re gonna have to forgive me.” You both chuckled.

You and Emily ate in silence. It was so quiet that you could hear her every time she chewed on the pancakes and sipped her coffee.

“Emily?” You finally broke the hush. Emily hummed. “Are you mad at me?”

She glanced at you and huffed. “No. Why would I be?”

You shrugged. “Then, do you like me?”

“Of course,” Emily answered without hesitation. “Of course, I like you. You’re my friend.”

You felt a pang of disappointment. “Not just as a friend, Emily.”

There was no reply.

“Emily?” You tried again.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just answer me.” 

You weren’t angry at her. You just wanted answers. You were tired of thinking and wondering why everything felt different one day like you were friends again, and different the next day like you don’t know each other.

She let out a loud exhale. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You … you're someone I want in my life for a long time. I don’t want to lose you.”

You knitted your brows. “Why would you lose me?”

“I - I don’t know. It’s what always happens to me. I can’t risk having stupid feelings for my best friend, for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Having feelings for me is stupid?” You asked, obviously offended by Emily’s choice of words.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Do you need to look up synonyms for stupid?”

“Y/N, please -”

“I never should have asked. Let’s just forget this happened.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean. You know that.”

“No, I don’t!” You couldn’t control the frustration in your voice anymore. “I don’t understand why you keep pushing and pulling me around. You already did this to me when we were in Rome. When anyone came near me, you drove them away. You called me amore mio for months but got awkward the minute I called you mine. You almost kissed me once when we sneaked out for John’s birthday. You told me then that if I was a boy, I’d be the love of your life. Did you know it was killing me, Emily?” Your voice was already trembling and your lips quivering. You blinked a few times to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. Emily’s eyes remained on you. “It was killing me because I would have loved you so much if you had let me.”

Emily reached out for your hand but you were quick to retract it. You wiped your cheeks of the wet proof of the agonizing pain you were feeling.

“I won’t bother you with my stupid feelings anymore.” You muttered before storming back to your room.

—

The days passed by excruciatingly fast. You only had two weeks to study for your upcoming finals and the lack of sleep every night and the intense headaches weren’t helping your cause.

Your dorm room has been quiet since your fall out with Emily. You did your best to avoid her at all costs. When she’s in the kitchen, you’d stay in the living room until she’s done and when she’s in the living room, you’d sprint to the kitchen. You caught her glancing at you a few times but you quickly averted your eyes each time.

JJ came over to study with you two nights before your finals. She was running on coffee and you on energy drinks. Penelope was supposed to go study with you too but sleep seduced her early.

“Where’s Emily?” JJ asked.

You only shrugged in reply.

“Are you in a lovers' quarrel or something?”

“No, we’re not lovers.”

“Ah, but you guys fought?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it, JJ.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Aside from being a good people reader, JJ has this crazy instinct. You hate it sometimes.

“Still don’t wanna talk about it.” You said. JJ respected that but you knew she would ask again one of these days.

JJ concentrated on one subject and made an outline to share with you once she’d finished. You did the same on a different subject that you shared. You exchanged notes and bounced different ideas and knowledge with each other. Eventually, the caffeine wore off. JJ drifted off, curled in a fetal position on the floor. You followed her five minutes later.

—

Emily had been spending more time at the library and coffee shop to study. She couldn’t concentrate at the dorm and being in close proximity with you. Every time Emily sees you, the gnawing ache in her chest grows. And no matter how many times she had gone over head about what’s the right thing to say, she couldn’t trust herself to not fuck it up and mess things up even more.

She came home around midnight. She unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as possible, as she was afraid she might wake you. She knew you liked studying in the living room because your room felt small. 

Tonight you weren’t alone though. Emily saw a friendly blonde lying on the floor with you. You weren’t cuddling, Emily was somehow relieved of that. But there was a tightness in her chest that she couldn't get rid of. Her jaw clenched at the sight. She’s not mad at you or her. There was a part of her that wanted to come in between the both of you just so there will be space. It was too close and Emily envied that. It wasn’t long ago that she was the one lying beside you. In your bed. With her arms wrapped around you.

Emily missed you.

When Emily lied in bed, she tried to redirect her thoughts on the topics she memorized in hopes of reciting them again but the thought of you occupied her mind. Every toss and turn in her bed, there was you; in Rome, in your bed, in her bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, at the campus.

For the first time in a long time, Emily allowed her mind to travel back to the Catholic international school in Rome where she first met you.

The uniform was ridiculously prude; skirt too long, vest too thick, socks too high. You stood out to Emily on the first day back in class after a week break in November. The pink streaks underneath your hair caught the headmistress’ attention and lectured you in front of the class. She asked you to dye it back to your natural hair color. You argued that your hair can’t affect your studies but the headmistress was firm and asserted that it was a matter of discipline, that if you couldn’t obey authority then you’d grow up to be a badly behaved person and bad people do not go to heaven.

After the first period, Emily saw you in the hallway. You were talking to two boys and judging by their uniforms, Emily guessed they were a year older. You were too busy ranting to the boys and rolling your eyes to notice that you were leaning against Emily’s locker.

“Excuse me. I just need to get to my locker,” she spoke. You glanced at her and apologized. The three of you moved aside and got back to your conversation. After Emily dropped her books to her locker, she spoke again, “It’s not true, you know.”

Your eyes met Emily’s, bringing your conversation to a halt. “What is?” You asked.

“You’re not gonna be a bad person just because you have pink streaks on your hair.” She pursed her lips. “Or that you’re not gonna go to heaven.”

“Exactly!” The taller boy tapped Emily’s shoulder in agreement. “I told you, Y/N.” He turned to Emily. “What’s your name?”

“Emily. Emily Prentiss.”

“John Cooley.” He and Emily shook hands then he pointed to the other boy, “This is Matthew Benton.” Matthew waved his hand. “And you two have been acquainted, I suppose?”

Emily nodded.

“Thanks, Emily.” You uttered. “Do you want to join us for lunch?”

Emily smiled. “I’d love that.”

Emily learned that you’re neighbors with Matthew and John. She didn’t like hanging out with boys but they eventually grew on her and so did you. Due to being raised by her mother, Emily has always been a strict rule follower, no matter how ridiculous the rules are. But Emily found freedom in you, Matthew and John. Emily wasn’t afraid of herself, of being herself.

You were on vacation with your family during the Easter break. John was on a trip with his father. Matthew’s family devoted their time to church and stayed home. She only had Matthew to spend time with during the break.

“Matthew,” Emily gripped his arm. “Matthew, I need your help.”

“What is it?”

“I … there are two things I want to tell you but promise me, you won’t tell anybody else. Not even Y/N or John.”

Matthew looked at her with deep concern in his eyes. “You’re scaring me. What is it?”

“I think I’m in love with her.”

Matthew huffed a laugh. Even without mentioning your name, Matthew knew. It was obvious. “You think?”

“I… I don’t know. Isn’t it wrong to feel this way?”

Matthew sighed. “You know what I think? I think love is only wrong if it’s not true.”

“But … we’re both girls. That’s forbidden.”

“Emily, the world is big. You won’t be confined in that school forever.”

Emily knew that. It probably won’t be long before she has to transfer again. But if she accepted this now, if she accepted this part of herself, everything would change. And although change was the only constant thing in her life, she wasn’t ready for this one yet.

“What’s the second thing?”

“I’m pregnant.” Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes, hands shaking both from the snow and the panic coursing her veins. “I… I don’t want it. I just … I tried because I wanted to know if it was possible that I’d be attracted to a boy but I’m not.” Emily buried her face on her palms. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Emily. Nothing.” Matthew hugged her tight, telling her everything’s going to be okay and promised that he will help her.

He accompanied Emily to the church for some advice. The priest told her she wouldn’t be welcomed back to the congregation if she got an abortion.

Matthew had always found reason through his faith in God. His family was devoted Catholics and so was he. But there’s only much faith he can put in God if his own people wouldn’t even at least try to understand his friend. If God’s love is unconditional, shouldn’t it manifest in his church and its people?

Four weeks into the pregnancy, Matthew found an abortion clinic. He held Emily’s hand, promising he would be waiting for her, that everything will be fine.

Everything was fine now but Matthew was gone.

Emily wondered if she told you everything, would you still accept her? Would everything be different? Would you hate her?

—

The semester ended yesterday. You were packing your things to go back home and take a well-deserved break. JJ had already gone home last night and Penelope went home with Derek, leaving you the last to go.

Well, except Emily.

Her bedroom door was open. She wasn’t packed yet and it looked like she wasn’t planning to. She had Chinese takeout boxes laying on her bed. You could hear the movie she was watching but couldn’t make out what language it was. Most probably French. Emily loved watching French movies.

It’s been weeks since you last spoke to each other. You avoided each other long enough for it to be a routine. It felt like you’ve been living with a ghost.

You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Emily looked up to you and paused her eating. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m going home.”

“Oh. Uh, take care.”

“Thanks.” You forced a smile. “When are you leaving?”

“For what?”

“For the semester break.” 

“Uh, I have no plans. My mother’s in Ukraine.”

“So you’re staying here?” Emily nodded. “The dorms will close next week though.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

You didn’t know what came on to you when you blurted out, “You can come home with me if you want. My parents just moved to our farmhouse.”

Emily stared at you for a minute, contemplating whether you’re joking or not. “Are you sure?” She asked. She was skeptical knowing what happened the last time you talked.

“I’m still mad,” You reminded her. “But I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I can give you an hour to pack.”

Emily felt the tightness in her chest loosen out of the blue. Now that you’re talking to her again, she can finally breathe. “Okay.”

—

You and Emily arrived at your parents’ house just in time to watch the sunset. The view was magnificent from the driveway.

“It’s beautiful,” Emily breathed, looking up at the heavenly hues of the sky. “Was it always like this?”

“Yes,” you answered. “It’s more beautiful after the rain. Sometimes a rainbow appears.”

Emily’s eyes glistened as the sun set. For a moment, you forgot that you’re not exactly on great terms with her yet.

Your father was the first one to greet you the moment you entered the living room. He ran and lifted you in a tight hug. “I missed you, kid!”

“I missed you too, pa.”

“Who’s this?”

“Pa, this is Emily. She’s my friend.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Your father and Emily shook hands. “The view outside is just gorgeous.”

“Well, I hope the inside won’t disappoint you.”

Emily chuckled. “Your home is lovely, sir.”

“Well, look who it is!” Your mom quickly descended the stairs.

“Ma!” You ran to your mother and she welcomed you in a tight embrace. “I missed you.”

“Always a mama’s girl that one,” your father whispered to Emily and she grinned.

—

It only took ten minutes for your mom to figure it out.

“I know that look.” Your mother told you when you were alone in the kitchen. She was cooking your favorite stew while you were preparing the ingredients for your mother’s cookie recipe.

“What look?”

“The look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ma.”

“I saw the way you were looking at her through the window. It’s the same look your father and I give each other.”

“You mean cheesy and disgusting?” You smirked. To your surprise, your mother smacked the back of your head. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“Tell her you like her before I smack you again.”

“Stop saying nonsense, Ma. I don’t like her.”

“Keep telling yourself that and you’ll lose your chance.”

“I already told her,” you confessed defeatedly. “She doesn’t like me that way.”

“Are you sure? Or was she just scared?”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. If she doesn't want to be with me, it’s fine.”

“She’s here with you now.”

“It’s different, Ma. She’s got nowhere to go. We’re not together together.”

“Ah, you kids.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Making everything complicated.”

“And it’s not like homophobia has gone extinct, Ma.”

Your mother sighed and pulled you for a hug. “We will love who you love, honey. I don’t fucking care about what the world says.”

You smiled against her chest. “Fucking thanks, Ma.” That earned you another smack. “You said it first!”

—

It’s been seven days at your farmhouse. Your mother and father taught you and Emily all about gardening. You were impressed by their growing orchard on the back of the house. To think that they had just retired from being federal agents four months ago and started this whole thing a month after retirement.

Emily had an easy time adjusting and getting along with your family. Aside from your parents, she also met your parents' orange cat, Denver. Denver didn’t like to cuddle with you but would snuggle with Emily. You didn’t take it personally. Emily was simply a cat person. She used to feed the stray cats outside your school when you were in Rome.

“Emily’s nice.” Your father said abruptly one night when you were on the couch with him and your mother. Emily called it a night and headed to the guest room. She was tired from all the gardening with your parents.

“She is,” your mother agreed.

“Stop it. Both of you.”

“So when did you start dating, honey?”

“Pa, we’re not dating.”

“You’re not?” Your father looked at you unbelievably. Then he turned to your mother. “They’re not?”

“You know kids these days. It’s never simple.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not sitting right here.”

“Our daughter is hopeless.” Your mother sighed.

—

A knock on the door startled you awake. You opened the door and Emily was standing there with bloodshot eyes. She obviously had another nightmare and from the looks of it, it was worse than what you witnessed before.

“Are you okay?” You ran your hand up and down her arm. “Do you need anything?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Sure,” you replied unhesitatingly.

You took the left side of the bed and Emily on the right. You put a long pillow in between.

“Y/N.” It was weak and soft but you heard her call.

“Yeah?”

Emily swallowed hard. “Can I … can I talk to you about it?”

You turned the night lamp back on and set it to dim light then you turned around to face Emily. She was picking on her nails, a bad habit she had since you’ve known her. You gently stroke her wrist to get her to stop. She did. She intertwined your hands together instead.

“You can tell me anything and everything, Em.” You squeezed her hand. “Even if it didn’t feel like it recently, I’m still your friend.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I had a dream about Matthew.” Emily let out a shaky breath. “He blamed me for what happened to him.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Matthew was a troubled boy.”

“And that’s because he met me.”

“Emily, you can’t think that.”

“But it’s true.” She insisted. “I want to tell you for so long. It’s eating me up.”

“So, tell me. I’m right here. No matter what.”

Her grip on your hand tightened as if pleading you not to run, not to leave.

“I got pregnant in Rome.” Emily confessed, almost in one breath but you caught it. Your hand still hadn’t left hers. “It was with a boy I experimented with so I could forget about the way I felt about you. I wanted to know if I could still be attracted to a boy and I tried. It happened but I felt so bad about it the next day and I never saw him again.”

“Did he force you? Did he do something you’re not comfortable with?” Emily shook her head and you sighed deeply in relief.

“I told Matthew about it during the Easter break. I asked for advice at church and the priest told me that getting abortion was a wrong thing and I won’t be welcome to come back to the congregation. But Matthew … he was angry. He started questioning his beliefs. He said that if God’s love is unconditional, why is it not manifested in the church and its people?”

“And he was right, Emily. Religious people are the most hypocritical of them all.”

“Matthew found an abortion clinic. He stayed with me until the procedure was done. He cared for me and I killed him.” Emily sobbed on the pillow separating you.

“You didn’t kill Matthew, Emily.” You reassured her, stroking her face. “Look at me. You didn’t kill Matthew. He was ill. His family was overly strict and religious. When he started questioning the congregation, his family was embarrassed. They didn’t like Matthew asking questions and having his own opinions. They didn’t listen to him. All that family cared about was worshiping the Lord and guilt tripping everyone else that didn’t align with their so-called beliefs. Matthew was different from them. He was a much better person than both his parents combined.”

“You - you’re not angry?”

You shook your head. “I just wish you had told me back then. I could’ve been there for you. Just like Matthew was.” You removed the pillow in between. You wrapped your arms around Emily and pulled her in, taking her in as close as possible to you. Whatever you felt during your fight had vanished completely. There was just Emily.

Emily, who had a hard time fitting in when she was fifteen.

Emily, who told you you’re not going to hell just because of the pink streak in your hair.

Emily, who became your best friend..

Emily, who you adored wholeheartedly and loved intensely.

Emily. Emily. Emily.

Her name was your lifeline.

“I love you, Y/N.”

It wasn’t said casually nor carelessly. It was anything but those things. 

It wasn’t spur of the moment. It was the moment.

It was deliberate, careful. It was a confession, a promise.

Most of all, it was the truth. And the truth was liberating.

“I tried to stop myself from feeling this way but I can’t. I don’t want to fight it anymore. Amore mio, my heart is yours,” Emily took your hand to her chest, where her heart is caged and beating just as fast as yours were. “It’s yours to keep; yours to break; yours to make whatever of it.”

“And mine has always been yours, Emily.”

You can’t really tell since when. Loving Emily was the most natural thing. You couldn’t even remember a day that you didn’t love her since you started loving her. You just do.

Emily was tired of overthinking it. She leaned forward and closed the gap between your lips. Her hands gently cupped your cheeks. Your hand rested on her shoulder.

Emily was kissing you.

She was finally kissing you.

Passionately. 

Tenderly. 

Slowly.

Desperate I love you’s exchanged between both of your lips.

This couldn’t be wrong, Emily thought. Not when it was the most right Emily ever felt in her life.

#jaye writes #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

[akajustmerry]

on sherlock adaptations: what do you think of house

I have so Many thousands of thoughts of House as a Sherlock adaptation that I could write a book about it and chapter one would be called: A HOUSE IS NOT A HOLMES© because I don't CARE that they called him House and idc that his apartment is 221b and that he plays the violin sometimes and solves problems, that's not my friend Sherlock Holmes!!!!!

House doesn't work as a Sherlock adaptation because deduction as Holmes practices it in the stories is not SPECIALIST KNOWLEDGE!!! the whole appeal of Holmes is that you read it and you feel like you could also deduce things. Holmes teaches you a way to look at the world and be more observant and use that knowledge to help people.

Holmes isn't a politician or a policeman even, he's a guy who wants to help because he's studied a particular way to see the world and you can too.........House is a SPECIALIST DOCTOR with a typical Doctor's God complex. That's as far as you can get from Holmes!!! The whole point of Holmes is he's not part of an institution!!! He operates OUTSIDE OF IT. House's knowledge base is medically specialist, you can't engage with his deductive reasoning the way you can with Holmes in the stories because to know what he knows you have to go to med school for 20 years. There's never a sense when you watch that you could have figured it out. Also, House's job description is institutionalised and established. He's not doing anything (med malpractice aside) that wouldn't be in the scope of any other specialist.

Thirdly, Sherlock Holmes isn't a guy looking to have power of people. This is the thing that arguably pisses me off most about House which is the interpretation of Holmes as someone looking lord his intelligence over others. I think this comes from the prevailing tortured genus trope. But also people not being able to tell the difference between Sherlock as a character who is just very open about his observations and someone who's an asshole. Sherlock is actually a very honest character which sometimes yeah means he's harsh but mostly he's just truthful. House mutilates this trait beyond recognition to the point of near constant and unrealistic cruelty.

Finally, I think making Holmes a doctor literally means you can't actually have a Watson because arguably the whole point of Watson, other than to be the audience pov, is to add credibility to Sherlock's unorthodox career choice AND to provide a traditional scientific perspective. House being a Doctor means none of that is really needed. Everyone knows, understands, and respects what a Doctor is!!! Wilson as a Watson figure has nothing to do except be the audience's WTF POV. Even the way Wilson and House's friendship is done is simply, like.... they didn't read the source material. Do you get that these men are meant to be at the very least friends who enjoy each other's company?? Also I think people need to shut the fuck up about House MD being a secretly gay show. A show doing homophobia on the regular isn't gay in any way that matters.

I say all this as someone who's watched it and enjoyed it at times. House and Cuddy were literally like one of the first ships I ever shipped. Do you know how weird it is to be 15 rooting for 2 middle aged co-workers on tv to fuck?? Anyways, I have lots of other thoughts about how the show handles House's addiction and disabilities and how arguably these are also taken loosely from Holmes lore. But if House MD must be considered a Holmes adaptation, it's one that mostly just mutilates. Almost every criticism hbomberguy says in his Sherlock is Garbage video essay is also applicable to House MD.

#house md #sherlock holmes #sorry to get weird about my no1 blorbo sherlock holmes I'm not actually <3 #house

[ben-talks-art]

Why is X-Men 97 so good, man...

I feel like someone cheating on their partner from how much I'm enjoying this series after years claiming Evolution as my favorite X-Men series.

It's just so ridiculously good. Every character looks so freaking cool in this show. Even Morph! I thought I was gonna hate that dude, but no! I love him! I love all of these characters.

I don't know what they did but they gave some really good, solid writing for this cast of characters. Can't wait to see more! 🥰

#X-Men #x men 97 #X-Men 97 #x men the animated series #x men #marvel animation

[thefudge]

hiii !! injust found your Irulan x Paul fanfic on ao3. I was wondering what about their dynamics inspired you to write it?? what do you enjoy about their characters individually? Since I just watched the movies and my knowledge of Dune is very limited, I was so intrigued by the chemestry between them on screen!!! Seeing their marriage fleshed out in your story is such a great pleasure, you write so well!

Also, I just figured out about how their marriage was just for show in the books, been heartbroken ever since, found the ao3 tag and there's just 55 fics with them (disapointing but oh well). Yours is definitely the best.

thank you for the kind words! i'm glad you're enjoying my take on them

what got me into their dynamic is the fact that irulan is not only a second choice, but an undesired one. paul marries her for political reasons, in order to legitimize his take-over and to make sure no one else will marry her and possibly have a claim on the throne through her child (which is why he doesn't allow her to have children with other men, for instance, even though he has chani as concubine). it's all very calculated and necessary, and he often insists on the fact that he feels nothing for her, maybe only some kind of grudging respect (she is useful to him in many ways) but otherwise chani is his first and only love. and i really dig that kind of scenario: i actually prefer it when the future love interest is not just an enemy, but someone discarded or put aside, someone who comes after the supposed great love. and i love writing about hateful marrieds who have to make it work for political reasons. i also love it when the male character has to eat his words as he slowly has to deal with budding feelings for the wife he should despise. it's absolutely my kind of conflict. i'm definitely departing from canon in many ways and i've probably gotten a lot of things wrong (i haven't finished the books yet), but i hope i capture their spirit and that my story feels dune-adjacent

#paul x irulan #replies #dune

[thatyoutubereviewer]

Watch "The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals" on YouTube

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

Genre: sci-fi horror comedy musical proshot

Date posted: Dec 24, 2018

Closed captioning: very good 👍👍

Runtime: 1:52:36

Youtube description: summary of the show with full credits of cast crew and direction, as well as time stamps for both scenes and songs

Trigger warnings: fake blood and guts, blue shit, smoking, drinking, vulgar language, guns, gunshots, the US government, gaslighting

My rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🌟

Full spoilers free review below vv

What a better video to review than the one that *really* got me sucked into YouTube. Of course, I'd been watching YouTube for years before that, even the same channel. But this musical? Fucking transcendent!

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals (tgwdlm) pushes the boundaries in every way. From the adult comedy that can't *quite* make it on Broadway, to the suspenseful sci-fi apocalyptic plot you can't find anywhere else, this show is perfect for theater lovers and those wishing to dip their toes into the musical world. A story that takes place over two days, after a meteor hits and people start singing, what will the guy who doesn't like musicals do?

The characters are brilliantly written and all stand apart from each other. Even when an actor is playing another character on stage, you can always tell who they are supposed to be. It's a cast of eight performers onstage, which is wildly impressive to me that it seems like a whole town with only eight people. There is... decent representation, while most of the characters are straight white men, there is one black man with a lesbian daughter. Trust me that Starkid vastly improves their representation if that is something of importance to you.

Jeff Blim's musical writing paired with the cast's talent made a wonderful soundtrack with genres ranging from 80s rock ballad to coffee showtune it'll leave you in whiplash in the best way. All of the songs make sense for the scenes and flow well with the plot. Let's just say I've jammed to this album a few,, several times.

The pacing starts slow, then picks up and doesn't stop. There's so much to chew on, but the show gives you enough time to swallow it. Nick and Matt Lang's writing has always been really good, but a lot of people consider tgwdlm their magnum opus. Tgwdlm is one of three musicals set in the small town Hatchetfield, and if you like this, you'll definitely like those.

Tgwdlm has an active fandom on tumblr and twitter, though I highly recommend you watch all three hatchetfield musicals before you interact for fear of spoilers.

I rated tgwdlm at a 6 out of 5 stars because this show gave me joy and community when I didn't have a lot. It's hard not to fall in love with these characters, songs, and plot. Also, when it first came out, I watched it several times over just because it was so good. I highly recommend to anyone willing to spend their time on something cooky, fun, and a little spooky.

#Youtube #thatyoutubereviewer #youtube review #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #starkid #team starkid #paul matthews #emma perkins #black friday starkid #starkid npmd #my first review! #i just wanted to share my fave musical tbh

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

My Morph primer

Since X-Men 97 is drawing in a lot of new fans with varied levels of experience with the original animated series or the comics, I figured I could give a write-up of who Morph is, where they come from, and why you don’t see them in any of the movies or other media.  This is also an excuse for me to write about an obsessive fave, seriously, they are all over my blog. I'm not necessarily an "authority," but I've watched TAS and read the comics, which are the basis for this write-up.

Who is Morph?

"Wolverine! Fall back!"

Morph is a shapeshifting mutant who was added to the X-Men team in the original X-Men: The Animated Series as a redshirt/sacrificial lamb, to be killed off For Real in order to show that the stakes are really high.  Originally it was actually going to be Thunderbird, a short-lived X-Man who died in the comics just a few issues after he was introduced, and has remained dead for decades.  But creators realized that killing off the only Native American character on a mostly white team was a bad look, and went with Morph instead.  Morph proved surprisingly popular with (mostly child) viewers, and was brought back in the 2nd season as a result.  Morph in TAS was originally presented as male using male pronouns, but I’m gonna use they/them for the character since they are nonbinary in X-Men 97.

(Btw, even Morph's TAS costume shows their redshirt nature, as they are basically wearing a variant of the standard X-Men uniform that different groups have worn, with the Original Five (Angel, Jean, Cyclops, Beast and Iceman) and the New Mutants all wearing something similar. There was a time in the 90's when all the X-Men were wearing this uniform to try to give them a team look, but thankfully that didn't last, the individualized looks are much better. Morph's amazing disappearing reappearing jacket are the only personalized touch in their uniform, and I hope X-Men 97 gives them a costume upgrade after everyone gets used to the new look.)

Morph doesn’t appear in many episodes of TAS, but here are the definitive ones:

Season 1:

Night of the Sentinels Parts 1 and 2: Morph seems to be an established part of the team, a wise-cracking shapeshifter who is so naively overconfident about their mission that they’ve practically got a target painted on their back.  When the mission goes wrong, Morph pushes Wolverine out of the way of Sentinel lasers, and gets blasted all to hell.  Morph’s supposed death (which was meant at the time to be a real death) is sensed by both Jean and Xavier.  Cyclops orders a retreat because the team is getting their asses kicked, abandoning both the (dead) Morph and (alive but injured) Beast, who spends the rest of the season in jail.  Morph is quickly forgotten as a character, BUT the impact of their death is felt throughout the season.  We get Wolverine yelling “This one’s for you, Morph!” while slicing up a Sentinel, and Cyclops in the finale insisting, “I’m not leaving anyone behind!  Not this time!” 

Season 2:

Till Death Do Us Part, Parts 1 and 2: Morph returns as a villain, but a sympathetic, brainwashed villain under the control of season Big Bad Mr. Sinister.  Sinister is an evil scientist who likes to fuck around with mutant genetics and is especially obsessed with getting Scott and Jean to fuck, because their child will supposedly be an extremely genetically superior mutant.  After Morph’s “death,” they were taken by Sinister, who revived them and implanted a control device into Morph’s brain that he uses to literally torture Morph into compliance.  Morph seems to have a kind of split personality, which Sinister exacerbates and encourages, shifting between a haggard-looking Evil Morph who wants revenge on the X-Men for abandoning them and cracks jokes while attacking the team, and a normal-looking Good Morph, who doesn’t want to hurt their friends, and is generally scared and confused and having a Bad Time.  If you are wondering about Morph turning into that version of themselves with dark circles around their eyes in X-Men 97 “Fire Made Flesh,” it was a reference back to this:

Evil Morph lookin' reeeeeaal creepy.

Morph uses their shape-shifting trickery to fake marry Scott and Jean (as the priest), impersonate Xavier and turn the team against each other, until Wolverine identifies them by scent.  The team then chases Morph to Sinister’s lair, where he’s captured a honey-mooning Scott and Jean.  Morph has been struggling with the brainwashing the entire time, and breaks free long enough to attack Sinister, then runs off away from everyone. 

Whatever It Takes: Wolverine, who has declared the Morph is “the only one who could ever make him laugh,” chases Morph down to Brazil in an attempt to drag them back to the team.  Morph, still fighting their dark side and flipping back and forth between the two personalities, taunts Wolverine in Jean’s form, fights him, and eventually gains enough control to tell Logan to back off. (“I have to get through this by myself!”) 

Fighting your friend in an abandoned mine shaft, a totally normal thing to do.

Wolverine reluctantly lets them go.  This the B-plot, the main plot of the episode features Storm and Rogue confronting the Shadow King in Africa, and is also really good.

Reunion Parts 1 and 2: Morph leaves a message for Wolverine stating that he wants to return to the team, in what seems like an obvious set-up for a trap.  Wolverine, Jean and Cyclops go to retrieve them, and find that yes, it is a trap.  Morph attmpts to warn the group to leave, but they are jumped by Sinister and the Nasty Boys, and the fight ends with Jean being taken, and Morph (still struggling against Sinister’s control), going semi-willingly.  The whole team winds up at Sinister’s base in the Savage Land and there are a lot of good character moments, like Gambit telling Rogue he loves her.  Morph spends the whole time still fighting against the brainwashing, but throws it off completely at the end (with Xavier’s help) and turns on Sinister, helping Scott and Jean defeat him.  Morph is then Put on a Bus to Muir Island so that the writers wouldn’t have to deal with the character but could hold them in reserve to use later.  Xavier comments that he can remove Sinister’s mind-control chip from Morph’s brain, but that “removing the psychic damage will take longer.”  So the answer to “Where’s Morph?” in later seasons will always be “Recovering on Muir Island, probably hanging out with Moira and Banshee.”

If you are a Morph fan, Season 2 is THE Morph season, they get a great character arc that fleshes them out, and establishes their close relationship with Wolverine.  I’m glad they didn’t toss out Morph in X-Men 97, both because I like the character, and because Morph’s entire arc in Season 2 was about their struggle to come back to the team, and constantly reaffirms that Morph is one of them, and that they belong with the X-Men.  Also, I know Tumblr love an angsty, suffering blorbo, and good God does Morph suffer in Season 2. 

(Someone is having a Bad Time).

Season 4:

Courage:  After getting only a couple of non-speaking background cameos in Season 3, this is Morph’s comeback episode in Season 4.  Morph believes that they are fully recovered and ready to rejoin the X-Men, while both Moira and Xavier seem to think they are not ready, and warn them to slow down a little.  Morph tries to jump back into their old role, makes jokes, and goes on a mission with Wolverine, but is clearly still dealing with PTSD and completely freezes up when Sentinels attack the mansion and kidnap Xavier.  Morph is left at the mansion while the X-Men go to rescue Xavier, but follows them anyway, and manages to play an instrumental role in stopping the Sentinels and saving Xavier.  Despite this, Morph decides that they are not ready to return and cannot be relied upon in battle (because the writers didn’t want to deal with using the character on the team), and goes back to Muir Island.  It’s a standard “character fucks up at the start of the episode but saves the day in the end” superhero cartoon story, and I was a little disappointed that the episode focused entirely on Morph’s “near death trauma” from the Sentinels and not the much worse “brainwashed and tortured by Sinister to the point of developing a second personality” issue.  The closest we get to addressing that is Morph pointedly walking up to Cyclops with “Scott…been a long time….” which sounds like a way of saying “We’re cool now, bro, I promise I won’t try to kill you.”  Still, we get some great Morph and Wolverine moments, and Morph kicks a lot of ass at the end.  After Morph spends most of the series either dead or suffering, I don’t mind an episode where they get to kick ass. This episode also establishes that Morph was suffering from serious nightmares for awhile, so consider that a canon excuse to put that in your angsty fanfic.

(Morph also gets a non-speaking cameo in Beyond Good and Evil Part 1, sitting next to Jubilee at Scott and Jean’s second wedding.  I think it’s sweet that they were invited, but can also imagine Scott putting them in the front row just to ensure that there are no more “fake priest” shenanigans.  “Let’s put Morph where I can see him….just in case.”)

Season 5:

Graduation Day: After Xavier is attacked, Morph returns to help calm mutants world-wide by impersonating Xavier and making a public call for peace.  Morph doesn’t do much in the episode, but they get an individualized goodbye from Xavier while he is addressing the team one by one, and it is clear at the end that Morph is officially back with the team.  In other words, the writers could give Morph a happy ending of coming back since the show was ending and they didn’t have to deal with it going forward.  Thankfully, the X-Men 97 writers were happy to pick up that ball and continue running with it, and I love what they’ve done with Morph so far!

Were there shippy vibes between Morph and Wolverine in the original series?

I dunno friend, watch “Whatever it Takes,” and “Courage,” and you tell me.  Morph shifting into Jean to taunt Wolverine definitely gives me vibes of “There’s something going on there.”

Is Morph in the comics?

(Note – I’m using he/him for all comics versions of Morph because those versions all apparently ID as male.)

The answer is yes, sort of.

Changeling:

Morph was loosely based on an obscure, long dead shape-shifting mutant from the X-Men’s original 60’s run.  Changeling was a villain with a tacky costume who acted very much like a standard 60’s comic book villain, associated with a terrorist group called Factor Three. Look at this fucking dude:

  At the end of the Factor Three arc, it turns out that Factor Three’s leader, Mutant Master, is an alien who wants to destroy ALL life on Earth to make way for his own people, and the mutants in the group turn on him and help the X-Men. Changeling is the first one to question Mutant Master’s motives, and that’s probably the only interesting thing he does in the whole story.  Several issues later, Xavier supposedly dies while helping defeat a villain named Grotesk and save the world.  This story is retconned near the end of the run, when Xavier is revealed to be alive, and explains that the dead “Xavier” was actually Changeling.  Changeling had discovered that he was terminally ill, and came to Xavier seeking redemption.  Xavier asked Changeling to temporarily take his place as Xavier while he shut himself up in the basement to prepare to stop an alien invasion (and no, the X-Men were not informed of this, besides Jean, and yes, that is really fucked up).  So Changeling became a reformed villain and honorary X-Man who went out in a heroic sacrifice, and was almost never mentioned again.  (Even now Changeling appears to still be dead in the comics, even though the current storyline has allowed ALL the dead mutants to come back.  Even Thunderbird is back.)

Changeling was greatly reworked to become Morph, totally changing his personality and origins.  The only similarities are the shapeshifting powers and physical appearance.  You can see how this guy:

Became this not-actually-a-guy:

Or even this version:

X-Men 97 Morph got a real glow-up to their human form.

Of course, they also share the trait of being a sacrificial lamb plot device, and X-Men TAS creators were originally going to call the character “Changeling,” but changed the name to Morph because DC’s Beast Boy was called Changeling at the time.

Age of Apocalypse Morph:

In the 90’s, there was a cross-over event over all the X-Books called the Age of Apocalypse, in which a time-traveller (Xavier’s son Legion, long story) murdered Xavier in the past before Xavier formed the X-Men, and created a dystopian alternate reality in which Apocalypse had taken over and Magneto led the X-Men.  This was a kind of what-if event that let writers have fun with switching up character relationships, turning good guys bad and bad guys good, and of course, killing a lot of characters off.  The event only lasted about four issues before it was all undone and we returned to the main Marvel universe, so they could really go wild.  In the AoA book Astonishing X-Men, Magneto’s team includes a character called Morph, a versatile shapeshifter with a pasty white made-of-clay look, and a jovial, upbeat personality that is clearly based on TAS Morph.  (This change to character design is where X-Men 97 Morph’s white, featureless appearance comes from).

Just a silly little guy!

AoA Morph is also stated in the book to have been formerly Changeling, before undergoing a name-change and attitude adjustment, making him an AU variant.  He explains to Sunfire at one point that he never takes anything seriously because fuck it, he’s probably gonna die anyway, he may as well die with a smile on his face.  AoA Morph is pretty cool, he does great shapeshifting tricks, and has some depth and heart beneath the obnoxious jokes.

Exiles Morph:

After Age of Apocalypse, the fan-favorite character Blink (like Morph, another alternate version of a short-lived character in the main comics timeline) gets pulled out of the AoA timeline and placed on a team of time-displaced X-Men.  This team, all coming from alternate realities and including some other minor neglected characters (like versions of Thunderbird and Mimic), is tasked with hopping through realities, putting things right that once went wrong, and hoping each time that the next leap will be their leap home.  The team also includes a version of Morph, who is so similar to AoA Morph that Blink mistakes him initially for her old teammate.  This is another AU variant of Changeling who was never Changeling, but instead was recruited into the New Mutants (a bit of an age retcon for the character, as 60’s Changeling seemed much older, while Exiles Morph is clearly much younger.)  Exiles Morph was a popular hero in his reality, served as both an X-Man and an Avenger, and is an incredibly powerful shapeshifter.  He also winds up being a long-running mainstay of the Exiles team, so this is really the book to read for Morph content.  Exiles also fleshes out the character’s past, stating that he was born as a shapeshifting blob with X-gene already activated, and only assumed a human appearance to fit in with peers.  He also lost his mother to cancer at an early age, and his obnoxious jokey personality was partially a reaction to that, an attempt to both cheer up and get some attention from his grieving father.  Exiles Morph is a great character, my only complaint is that he is a bit of a sex pest, constantly making “jokes” that border on sexual harassment of his female teammates.  I don’t think he’s meant to actually be a creep, he never actually does anything, and when the teammate he has a crush on reveals that she is a lesbian, he steps back and acts as a supportive friend.  I think Exiles Morph just suffers from late 90’s early 2000 writing where the funny jokey character has to be all “LOL, Boobies!” all the time, just so we know he’s straight.  (Funny, given how not-straight X-Men 97 Morph seems to be.)

The Other Morph: Benjamin Deeds:

Brian Michael Bendis, in his Uncanny X-Men run, introduced a new character named Benjamin Deeds who could shapeshift, and looked suspiciously similar to a teenage version of Changeling/TAS Morph.  His personality was different, though (more of a sulky teen trying to deal with being a mutant than a funny guy), and the nature of his powers is different.  Benjamin has what is described as “chameleon-like” shapeshifting, taking on the physical characteristics of people when he gets close to them rather than fully shifting forms.  He also exudes a chemical that makes people automatically like and trust him.  Emma suggests the codename “Morph,” and although Benjamin doesn’t like it, it becomes his official codename going forward.  I don’t think Ben actually has any real connection to Changeling or TAS Morph, he seems more like a legacy character or winking homage, like Pyro II (Simon Lasker, who inexplicably has the same powers and looks almost exactly like original Pyro, St. John Alledyce).  He’s fun character and a cute lil’ guy, though.

There are people who call TAS Morph an “original character” completely invented for the cartoon, and I don’t think they’re entirely wrong.  Morph is VERY different from Changeling,  But to me, it makes the most sense to consider TAS Morph another AU variant of Changeling, given all the influence back and forth between the comics and the cartoon.  Morph was based on Changeling, and Morph’s popularity led to AU versions of Changeling in the comics with TAS Morph’s personality literally named “Morph,” and now X-Men 97 Morph has been redesigned to match AoA/Exiles Morph’s appearance.  They are variations of the same person.  And it’s not exactly the first time that a comics character has been drastically reworked in an adaptation – I’m looking at you, First Class Mystique and Evolution’s “Lance Alvers.”  I wonder if people would still be calling Morph an “original character” if they’d kept the name “Changeling,” since keeping the name seems to be all it takes at times.  Still, TAS Morph is kind of right on the border between OC and “adapted from the comics,” and even I tend to include them in groups of “created for the cartoon” characters like Firestar, Spyke and X-23.

Why is Morph tagged as “Kevin Sydney/Sidney”?

Because that is the character’s name, more or less.  TAS Morph didn’t have a “real name” in 92, because Changeling didn’t (similarly, Rogue also didn’t have a real name because the character hadn’t been given one in the comics.)  In Age of Apocalypse, characters called Morph “Sydney” or “Syd,” and Morph even referred to himself that way in a thought-balloons, but the Exiles writer apparently decided, “Nah, it’s a last name,” and officially named Morph “Kevin Sydney.”  The name stuck, and the 2004 Marvel “Book of the Dead” gave Changeling that name in the entry on him.  Morph’s name has never been given in the cartoon, but it’s probably safe to assume that their official “human name” is Kevin Sydney, just like TAS Rogue is probably Anna Marie (her official name in the comics.)  Interestingly, even in Exiles, the book where the name originated, Morph always goes by “Morph” and never “Kevin.”  Maybe Home Alone ruined the name for him.  I tend to use the Kevin Sydney tags on Tumblr and A03 to differentiate from other uses of the “morph” tag.  In particular, Tumblr has a lot of body modification fetish posts tagged as “morph,” and no offense to the fetishists, you all keep doing what you are doing, but that’s not the content I’m looking for.  I’m sure the fetish people are probably a bit annoyed at their own tag filling up with an X-Men character, but hey, it’s their name. 

How old is Morph?  How long were they with the team and when did they join?  Is the featureless white face their “real form”?  What’s their history with Wolverine?

I don’t have answers here because we don’t know.  There’s a lot we don’t know about TAS Morph, and the origins of their comics counterparts don’t really translate well into cartoon continuity.  Like I can’t imagine TAS Morph ever having been a willing member of Factor Three. 

Personally, I tend to assume that Morph was with the team for awhile before their “death,” given that they have an established “old friend” relationship with Wolverine and know the team extremely well.  I also tend to assume that TAS Morph is a similar age to the other young adults on the team like Scott and Jean.  They sometimes look older in the original series, because they were based on Changeling (who also looks older), but the voice acting and general personality of the character seem younger, plus Wolverine calls them “kid”a couple of times.  And it seems like their “human form” may not be their “real face” anyway, given that they’ve now defaulted to the white blank-face look.  The white blank-face look IS the real form for Exiles (and presumably AoA) Morph, so the same is probably true for TAS Morph and Changeling.  But this is all just my own headcanon and speculation, based on what I’ve seen in the original cartoon and the comics.  You are all free to come up with your own headcanons fleshing out the character, I’ve already seen great stuff in fanfic out there!

Edit: Actually, I thought of a bit more:

How does Morph shift their clothing? Does Morph even wear clothes? How can they create accessories like Psylocke's swords?

Honestly, I dunno, this is Rule of Cool and Morph as a vehicle for character cameos in affect here. I will say that, in the comics, many characters with shapeshifter-type powers, like Wolfsbane, wear costumes made of unstable molecules that shift with their bodies, the same may be true of Morph. Exiles Morph, when commenting on his female teammates' skimpy costumes, at one point jokes that he "wears even less," so he may just be literally making clothing out of his own body. Although I would think that would get cold, or painful with no protection against the elements.

I assume that Morph does form accessories like Psylocke's swords out of their own body, which also presumably means they can't drop them. I wonder if it would hurt Morph if one of the swords broke? Exile Morph regularly turns his own body into accessories that he can hold (but not separate from his form), so presumably X-Men 97 Morph is doing the same. This is a step-up from TAS Morph, who never did that. Exiles Morph seems to be able to turn their body into whatever they want.

Does Morph copy the powers of other mutants?

Morph seems to be able to mimic only the physical-based powers of other mutants, under the shapeshifter logic of changing their body to give themselves larger muscles, claws, etc. So Angel's wings, but not Cyclops' eye beams. Nightcrawler's tail but not teleportation. In X-Men 97, Morph takes a couple of shots from X-Cutioner after shifting into Colossus, so apparently they can do the whole metal skin thing. But in TAS, when Morph turns into Wolverine, their claws are not adamantium and Wolverine easily slices through them.

I would add that Exiles Morph is also extremely durable, and can literally be ripped to pieces and shapeshift himself back together. This doesn't seem to be the case of "died from Sentinel lasers" TAS Morph, but maybe they just aren't there with their power levels yet. Exiles Morph IS especially susceptible to burns or laser blasts, and almost dies when Hyperion hits him with a beam at close range.

That’s it, hopefully this is helpful for people completely new to the character who got into X-Men 97.  Mostly I just love writing about Morph.  I encourage you to go back and watch the original series, or at least the Morph episodes.  It’s a good show, if a bit 90’s corny, and will let you fully appreciate X-Men 97 (which has been, so far, an absolute banger of a series).  Presumably we’ll see more character development of Morph as the show continues, which will maybe answer some of these questions.

#morph #kevin sydney #morph x-men