#(logic voice) who can relate?

[senatortedcruz]

Taylor should write a song about being so obsessed with a guy that wants nothing to do with you that it makes you feel like The Joker

[woolydemon]

one of my fav things abt shaggy from Scooby Doo is that he is a skilled ventriloquist. He's really good at throwing his voice to make other things sound like they're talking, and also he has a talking dog that's unrelated to that

[blueminustwo]

Feeling isolated, trapped within myself, and craving community

[bredforloyalty]

the problem is i'm only attracted to men if they get hit by a train or something similar

[verynormalguy]

couldn't even be assed to make this look any better lol

[idleidylist]

↖️ is absolutely devastated by narratives about fate despite not believing in fate

[schoolhater]

the attachment issues are preventing me from solving the attachment issues

[fuckwoodyallen]

dysphoria is so goddamn confusing. it’s like, there are two wolves inside me: yes I’m a transmasc lesbian, this makes sense more than anything else, this feels secure, women and nonbinary people rock / but also deep down I wish I was a boy kissing other boys, though I don’t think I’d feel a genuine romantic or sexual attraction to men unless we were both gay boys

[anantaru]

— yandere honkai star rail boys

including blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — yandere, angsty, toxic, manipulation

— blade

yandere! blade, who won't ever leave your side in the early stages of your relationship, but the smoldering question, the raging reason as to why was deeply purled in an ulterior, much scarier motive.

it's not because of him owning possessive traits, well, he sure did but the motivation behind gracefully aiding you in everything you may require, always showing up to your doorstep whenever you wanted him to with that big, delicate smile on his handsome face and blessing you with sweet gifts of all kind, his reasoning was contrasting.

at any rate, blade can continuously see that you're slowly but surely getting accustomed to him, that you tend to find some sort of unrecognizable comfort and notable security in his calculated antics.

submit to him, to your fate, you do not have to do anything on your own again.

the voice in your head wasn't your own, it was blade's voice, bright, stern and utterly dominating. it's in your head but it wasn't you talking, or was it? it couldn't be.

when you come to terms with it, step by step, you are quick to notice that something changed because blade backs away all of a sudden, without somewhat announcing nor explaining himself.

you try to reach him, desperately, but you're being ignored, no answer, no message or a call being returned. proceeding, you attempt to idly greet him the very moment you see blade suddenly walk past you on a random evening, while at last, being ignored yet again.

the main impetus of his motives, what could it be? fine, to say it without beating around the bush, it's that blade will try anything in his power to make you the obsessed one.

— jing yuan

yandere! jing yuan who was using one noteworthy strategy to ploddingly drive you into his undying arms, so you weren't able to leave nor would you want to leave in the first place.

the golden eyed will make you feel like you're the most special, alluring, stunning individual he had ever laid his eyes on. most of all, will he turn everything around and act like you're in control of the relationship between you both.

hold on a second, it doesn‘t stop there.

for all intents and purposes has the capable and gifted general easily figured out that by giving you any form of large control, an illusion of indurated authority, he can covertly infiltrate that sweet head of yours to deviously influence and manipulate you how he sees fit.

following this pursue of action, you do not realize what you have gotten yourself into by the time it was too late.

for your own pair of thinking— to you it would seem like you are making important choices and solutions, yet not fathoming that in practice it was jing yuan who would put the hand picked ideas into your thoughts with subtle hints and little traces, you barely notice it.

you would end up doing whatever he wants and he smiles, kissing your lips and thanking you for taking such good care of him.

logically thinking, he does it because he wants you to become attached to him, he cannot possibly live a life without you, it's futile— you're the person he fell in love with, he couldn't imagine you walking away now.

— luocha

yandere! luocha, who, on the far side of the color of his innocent-looking, scintillating eyes, will be a crazy skilled liar who will look at you so sweetly that you cannot even process the mere possibility of something going wrong.

at the outset, he was agreeing and relating to everything you were saying or proclaiming, yet keep in mind, he puts it in a way that wasn't overbearing nor appearing as untrue— luocha knew what to say in order for it to come off as his opinion as well, as an oh so little coincidence that the two of you had so many things in common.

almost like you're made for each other, or, almost as if someone was trying to make it materialize as this.

again, you can envision him as a chameleon— following your first dates, he notices that he is wholly obsessed, it's the way you communicated, the small traits you possessed or how you'd slowly avert your eyes whenever he'd try to hold gazes.

luocha looks at you and visualizes a mirror standing in front of him.

for what reason you might wonder, let me break it to you; he needs you to be exceedingly trusting and unquestioning towards him, whatever he says, you wouldn't quiz it.

slowly, deep, decelerated steps, one by one so you wouldn't notice, luocha will gather all the information he had about you, favorite food, most dearest hobby, your habits, your views on life and the future, all written and memorized in his brain until he turns them into his own traits, characteristics of himself— because, ultimately, he was always a step ahead of you, easily lying through his gritted teeth without even realizing it himself sometimes ..

.. yet never letting go of the unfaltering control he now had acquired.

— sampo

yandere! sampo, who on the outside appeared to be rather bubbly and harmless, yet on the inside was excessively skilled in keeping you within his mind altering reach.

because love was scary, or so he thought and sought to point it out, it’s basically handing over a map of all your flaws and imperfections while putting faith in your partner to not abuse that power. 

in advance of your relationship, the man had already gained your abiding trust out of the clear blue sky— lets take this into consideration, whenever you encountered a problem, dear sampo was here to solve it almost immediately, without even trying his utmost hardest.

how come he had a solution to everything you needed, he truly was wonderful, or wasn't he?

and his extraordinary inducements of special care, how he made sure that you were contented and pleased in your life, all while in reality remaining unnoticed in the cruel darkness, as the very cause of those problems you have encountered.

it's quite silly he thinks, how creative he was, again using negative rumors to pull you into a corner, or stealing work utensils and important materials you needed, silently orchestrating a various square of people who will look down on you.

until at the very last, sampo proudly positions himself just right in your life, quite heroic indeed, and placing a fake security on top of your person ..

.. so you wouldn't have to worry about anything in life anymore and fully attach yourself to him.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[senatortedcruz]

The cycle of why does no one text me first vs why don’t I ever text anyone is so raw and real….

[svgvru]

𝐒 & 𝐌 : sex in the air, i don't care, i love the smell of it!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐓𝐎, 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔. it was no surprise either, well to those who know you. as the former ruler of teyvat, the king who presided over his sovereigns, it was logical that he would take a knee for you. you were his king, the dragon king. and he learned all sorts of things from you and about you when the two of you had first met during the . . . less kind days of fontaine.

things like: the former hydro sovereign, the prophecy, why he was born in a human form, anything relating to dragons, that you were kind, that you were honest, and that you were cruel. at least in his opinion.

now the kind did outweigh the cruel in most instances, however, the bedroom was a bit of a different story. see, neuvillette is such a loyal servant to you. he had been and always will be. and he's also—pliant. the poor hydro dragon could use some advice from a superior, someone older than him. after all, he is—was an over 500 year old virgin. a person with experience is someone he could benefit positively off of! and you were kind. keyword: "were."

your kisses started off sweet, they were gentle and calming. your hand were careful and soft as they roamed and prepped his body. your words were praises that could raise his ego tenfold. now?

"come now, dear . . . " there resting on your face with cruel smile, masquerading as being sweet. his feet carefully and reluctantly pad towards you. your form was sat on the edge of the bed, legs in a manspread. his eyes catch the glimmer of the blue gem on his cane next to you. he stops in between your legs, chewing on the corner of his lip. "don't hurt yourself," you whisper kissing his lips as your hands torturously slowly take off his clothing.

when you haad given him that glance just hours ago, he knew his "verdict" had been decided. oh how the tables had turned, then again, you were always his king, had they changed specifically with you? "across my legs, dearest."

your voice is soft, yet there's a command in it. therefore—he obeys. just as if he was in court, yet the roles were switched. the culprits had to face their sentence, so did he. his naked body is splayed across your legs. his back in an unintentional arch as his bare ass is on display for you. your hands teasingly trace his spine, except they didn't feel like your hands. it was another thing neuvillette hated during movements like these . . . you wore gloves. he couldn't feel your skin, it made him want to cry!

"what's the safeword?" you ask him, cane now in hand—the cold metal of his sends a shiver down his spine when you trace his skin with it. "h-hydro . . . " neuvillette mumbles. a small smile graces your face.

"good. you get ten strokes . . . that's all. now you will count, every. single. stroke. if you mess up, we'll have to restart, and i'll continue until you get it right. and finally, you are not allowed to cum without permission, is that clear?" your voice is unusually soft, yet if he looked back, he would see the lustful and cruel look in your eyes. "yes. crystal clear." he can practically feel your smile in response to his words. your lips press against his temple gently before his own cane suddenly comes in contact with his skin.

"a-AHN! mhn . . . o-one." luckily, you were using the wooden part of his cane. however, that didn't mean it didn't hurt. the soft paleness of his skin is reddened. a chuckle leaves your lips, "imagine how much more fun this would be if you had a vagina . . . "

his eyes widen at that, never had he thought you'd be into that kind of thing. nor did he think those words would leave your lips. the worst part however, was how it turned him on. his neglected cock twitches against your thigh at the words. "oh? is that appealing to you? having a woman's genitals? hm, i wonder . . . how wet would you be after one stroke? soaked? or perhaps you'd try and hold it in, hm?" your series of questions only makes his face burn more.

a smile graces your face as you can hear the pitter patter of the rain drops on the windowsill. your questions were terrible, but he wanted to know. he wondered what it would be like if you were torturing him with a vagina instead of a penis.

"it's raining already, dear. i've barely even started . . . " you tease and chuckle at him. "a-apologies, my king," he stutters, gripping onto the cloth of your pants. "forgiven."

there's a brief moment of silence after that. he wonders if you're enjoying the sight of him, or if you're teasing him. he turns to look at you, the words on his lips interrupted. "your majes—aAaahHhN!" he moans as the wood strikes his skin again. the skin of his ass a deep red. "t-two! mhn—!" he feels the material of the gloves, grope and massage his fresh stroke, a wince leaving his lips at the touch. "good," you coo. "such a good servant i have . . . "

the strokes continue, the wood striking dangerously close to his full and red balls, the ones you refuse to let him empty. "ah—my kinnnghH!" he'll sob with his lips trembling.

he pleads as if he could get out of this situation. well—he could; however, he doesn't. he refuses to use that fated safeword. no—he loves it. as much as he hates the pain, he loves it. especially because he's being punished by you, his king. he'd gladly let you ruin him in exchange for no one else being able to experience you like this. to which you fullfil his wishes. "ssss—seven!" he yelps.

the cane stops in the air. "seven?" you ask him. that was wrong, you weren't on seven. "y-yes?" neuvillette starts to question his answer, and when in his peripheral vision he sees your eyes give him a sympathetic look—he knew he was wrong.

your hand grips the base of his horns, a whimper leaving his lips as you pull his head up "ngh—ugh!" his lips tremble at the force, especially on his horns. because despite no dragon, including you, saying it . . . your horns were sensitive—specifically the base of them. "six, darling. it was six." you really do feel bad for the citizens of fontaine, plagued with this rough rain, but this was a sight you needed to see.

the hydro sovereign, back arched and tip leaking onto the floor, his eyes nearly rolled back, and fat tears streaming down his now red cheeks. his head hands, a small puddle of drool growing on the floor from him.

such a powerful being, reduced to nothing for his king, he truly is loyal. and yet, he isn't even done!

sobs rack his frame as he desperately keeps track, having to start over once more in the midst of this. his lower eyelids were red and puffy, stained with tears as he finally finished correctly. "TEN! ten, it's ten!" he whines. oh, he looks so beautiful!

you chuckle and finally put the cane down. looking beneath you, a puddle of pre-cum is in your sight; however, he hasn't cum yet! his listening skills were quite admirable, if you had only had his skills millenia ago. "i suppose you finally deserve my touch," you mumble, and the man in your lap visibly perks up at that comment. "p-pleashh! i desir—i want . . . i—!" his effort in forming words were quite adorable to you. "shh, i understand," you interrupt his words.

taking off your gloves, you touch his soft skin for the first time that night. neuvillette whimpers in happiness at the warmth of your hands—the skin to skin contact.

your hands knead his soft and sore skin, cooing to him as you do, whispering words of pride for him. your fingertips, calloused from war and past experiences, trail along his spine, simply touching him. "calm enough?" you chuckle, "i'm sure you dying to cum . . . get on the bed." neuvillette hurries onto the bed, wincing at the lingering pain. but he remains on his stomach, as up for you.

moving the cane from the bed, you crawl onto it, hovering over him. a smile is on your face as you hear the rain die down. it's not as rough as a few minutes ago, just a drizzle . . . although, that would likely change in less than a minute.

neuvillette feels two of your thick fingers touch the rim of his hole. your index slips in easily, your middle stretches him, testing how loose he is. "how long did you play with your ass, hm? that needy for your king? all you had to do was call my name . . . " your voice turns to a low whisper, his cheeks reddened before he watches you grab the bottle of lube.

he hears your pants unzip and fall, your lands lubing your cock for him. carlessly tossing the bottle wherever you lean over him.

"are you ready?" neuvillette feverishly nods, even poking his as out more for you. a smile leaves your lips as you press your tip to the rim, well your first tip. the second one is light pressing agsins his balls, leaking pre cum.

slowly but surely, you pushed your first cock inside of him, the other rubbing against his own cock. "ooooOOh! a-AH!" the dragon below you whines, you're quite surprised he hasn't completely lost control of his human form. it wouldn't be a surprise if he did.

and just as your thoughts ends, his hands claw at the sheets, turning light blue. all the way up to his elbows was there the color of the water before it ended, the color gradient and fading into his normal human skin color. the marks of hydro on his arms appear, his light blue tail flows as he looses control of his form. his back arched beautifully for you. he hears you laugh quietly at him, whining quietly at your hand stroking him. "are you ready?" your soft voice rings in his ears. "yes . . . "

he whimpers when he feels you lean down and kiss the nape of his neck. he feels your hips retract, his walls gripping your cock. "are you trying to break my dick? calm yourself," you chuckle and slam your cock back into him.

"a-apologies!" he chokes out, eyes crossed. "oh—you're so b-big!" your cock feels like a heaven he shouldn't be permitted to. it felt so good. every inch of his body has memorized you, just as you have him. your cock rubbing against his prostate felt like a gift from the gods. then again, you—you are his god. it didn't help that your second cock was frotting tips with his. your precum mix and fall with your thrusts, his legs trembling as it becomes harder to resist cumming. "you've taken it before, your alright," you coo.

full, was a word to describe this moment. although, the word 'pain' could be included. your hips roughly slap against his already sore skin, his ass jiggling with each thrust, his pale lips trembling. pain, is the word he could use to describe his need. the need to cum that he hasn't been granted. the both of you are sure his balls are red, his tip matching angrily as he desprately needs to cum. neuvillette sniffs, small tears spilling from his eyes. this always happens. the most he's every shown is emotion, is during sex.

but he couldn't curse it, he couldn't beg for it to stop . . . if it was his king granting him a way to express himself he'd gladly welcome it. "cum . . . may i? ple-please?!"

a sob is accompanied with his words. although, it is warranted. how could he not cry when you've purposefully angled yourself so your cock rams into his prostate. the downpour of rain continues, and neuvillette was going to loose his mind. "please! your maj—ngh! a-AH! my king! i—" he was prepared to plead and cry, anything to receive your cum and his own release.

"go on." his glossy eyes widen, he hadn't actually expected you to say yes. you had been cruel to him lately. what had changed? "put on your listening ears, dearest . . . "

"cum."

a loud whine and a cry of your title leaves his lips. his body shivers, his claws tearing at the light blue sheets, and his hole milking your cock. you grunt, roughly slamming your hips into him once more, eyes rolling back as you cum. when you frott tips neuvillette cums as well, a load of yours dumped inside of him and a load onto him.

"hah . . . thank you," neuvillette mumbles, blinking his low-lidded eyes. "thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

it was adorable . . . how he'd always thank you for allowing him to cum. "always so polite, hm?" you grin and kiss his temple, gently wiping his tears. "you're welcome, my love." a smalle smile grows on his face at the nickname.

the soft sounds of rain die down, a few sniffs still left in the hydro dragon below you. he's such a good servant to you, perhaps even the most loyal! well, morax might have him beat . . . but as a warm hole for you who's always ready, neuvillette takes the cake. "let's clean you up, hm? i won't make you cry anymore—tonight." neuvillette whines at your last words, but he's proud of himself for taking his punishment.

wait—what was he being punished for?

[novlr]

How do you write characters who ignore their feelings

When you write characters who ignore their feelings, you delve into a complex psychological landscape that, if done well, can resonate deeply with readers. These characters are walking contradictions, their emotions simmering just beneath the surface. This tension between their inner experiences and external expressions makes them fascinating and relatable to readers.

Behaviour

Disregard their own emotional well-being

Focus on logic and facts

Appear stoic or unfazed in stressful scenarios

Engage in compulsive behaviours as a distraction

Will take on burdens without complaining

Avoid conversations about their feelings

Can be reliable in a crisis

Immerse themselves in work or hobbies

Seen as cold or insensitive by others

Exhibit control issues, and micromanaging tendencies

Interactions

Difficulty forming deep, emotional connections

Uncomfortable with physical displays of affection

Struggle to empathise with others’ feelings

Change the subject when discussions turn emotional

Appear indifferent or detached in social settings

Perceived as blunt or straightforward in their communication

Offer practical solutions to problems, rather than emotional support

Have a small, close-knit circle of friends, if any

Inadvertently hurt others by dismissing their emotions

Often seen as the ‘rock’ or ‘anchor’ by their peers

Body language

Cross arms or create physical barriers when emotional topics arise

Maintain a steady, controlled posture

Rarely exhibit nervous ticks or fidgeting

Minimal eye contact during emotional conversations

Often have a rigid or stiff walk or stance

Avoid touch or recoil slightly from unexpected contact

Neutral or hard to read facial expressions

Look away or distance themselves from emotional displays

Rarely cry or show signs of emotional distress in public

Likely to control voice pitch and volume meticulously, even when agitated

Attitude

A practical and no-nonsense demeanour

Often skeptical of emotional reasoning or decisions

May seem dismissive or cynical about sentimentality

Value strength, self-sufficiency, and independence

Pride themselves on not ‘giving in’ to emotions

Can be incredibly self-disciplined and focused

View emotional displays as weaknesses or inconveniences

Have a strong drive to maintain composure under pressure

Sometimes accused of lacking passion or enthusiasm

Can come across as disinterested or aloof

Positive story outcomes

Learn to acknowledge and accept their emotions in a healthy way

Build stronger, more genuine relationships through vulnerability

Find themselves more at peace after emotional breakthroughs

Gain respect from others for their growth and emotional maturity

Overcome past traumas that caused them to suppress their feelings

Develop a more balanced approach to problem-solving

Become a role model for others struggling with emotional expression

Facilitate a cathartic moment that resolves a central conflict

Experience personal breakthroughs leading to unexpected joy

Discover hidden strengths through the acceptance of weakness

Negative story outcomes

Relationships may deteriorate because of emotional neglect

They could face a breakdown from accumulated stress

Might cause unintended harm to themselves or others

Risk becoming isolated because of their lack of emotional openness

Can suffer from health issues related to suppressed emotions

Might miss out on life-changing opportunities because of fear of vulnerability

Could be overtaken by their emotions in a critical moment

May lose the trust or respect of peers who crave emotional honesty

Potentially fail to resolve a major conflict because of emotional barriers

Their growth as a character might stagnate, leading to a tragic outcome

Helpful Vocabulary

Aloof

Detached

Dismissive

Stoic

Impassive

Restrained

Unflappable

Resolute

Suppressed

Guarded

Inexpressive

Dispassionate

Self-contained

Unemotional

Nonreactive

Disconnected

Inhibited

Controlled

Reticent

Reserved

[scaredycatqlt]

hey so how do you think Donnie rise would deal with having a s/o who is the common sense one of the couple? Like donnie over thinks and s/o is just like “sweetie. April’s just busy with work. She’s not avoiding you”. And s/o ends up being right. Or when he’s trying to fix something tech related and he goes over all the complicated variables and s/o is like “Have you tried putting it backwards?” He is none believing at first, but he puts it backwards anyway and suddenly the machine works and he laments in his head about classic donnie overthink. The times when he is right though s/o’s like “Fuck it up! I support you!”?

I like this idea. It’s an interesting dynamic to think about, especially considering how unhinged Donnie is…

Donnie X Logical! Reader [ROMANTIC]

Donnie usually has the most common sense out of all of his brothers, which honestly isn’t a lot. At all. It’s a very low bar to beat.

But you’re the voice of reason in the relationship. You may not be as tech smart as him, but you’re a hell of a lot more logical in other ways.

Donnie overthinks A LOT. So having a partner who’s reassuring and reasonable is something that he would benefit from immensely.

even if he puts up a bit of a fight first…

He doesn’t like the feeling of people being smarter than him. That’s HIS thing, HE’S the smart guy. So sometimes your tendencies annoy him.

He’s not really mad at you, more so mad at himself for not seeing how obvious it was.

His brothers appreciate you because you help calm him down. While he can never truly be tamed, you help keep him in line, in a way.

And the times you agree with him are the BEST.

As soon as you give him the ‘OK’ he is grinning like a maniac.

When you’re not there, he probably thinks ‘what would they do?’ And either do that or completely ignore that. He’s chaotic neutral you guys.

If you’re not with him when he needs advice, he also might just text you. You probably get random texts at ungodly hours of the night.

“Is it really that bad to test my weapons on my brothers?”

Seriously though, his brothers are big fans of you. You help him control his chaotic side. (And also a bit of his brothers too, bc duh.)

He’s not the most emotionally available in general..but he tries to express how he’s feeling further along in the relationship.

At first in the relationship he mainly brags and shows off WAY more than he used to. He wants to impress you.

And maybe hear you say your proud of him

ITS NOT JUST HIS DAD HE WANTS APPROVAL FROM OKAY??!!!

He definitely texts u a lot <33

You guys are a duo and bring out the best in eachother, that I can say with confidence.

Hope you liked these!!! They took like 40 mins to come up with 😭

[peterparkouryo]

dream palace. | p.p imagine

┊ ˚➶ ｡�� ☁️

prompt: Movie night with your boyfriend turns into something more.

warnings: fluff, making out, no smut because i suck at writing it (mentions of it)

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i am extremely sorry for not uploading anything last week, really busy with captivated habits two and rebound three. enjoy this lil fic i made this weekend

Every Friday was movie night. It was a traditional thing you and your boyfriend, Peter did, even before the two of you started dating.

Sometimes on a rare occasion, your two other friends would join you, but since MJ and Ned weren't a couple, it almost felt like they were third wheeling whenever the two of you would drift your focus away from the movie playing and onto each other.

You were almost glad that on most Friday nights, it was just you and Peter. It gave you the opportunity to focus less on the movie and more on each other, which in a logical sense, defeats the entire purpose of a "movie night".

Today, rather it be fortunate or unfortunate, wasn't one of those days, and the moment you opened the door of your apartment to Peter's grinning face, and laptop in hand (since you didn't own one and you enjoyed watching it on his rather than the TV in your room), you were ecstatic of his presence. 

He had such a giddy effect on you, it was no wonder with every alone time you two would get, you could never keep yours hands off him.

"So, what movie are we watching?" You questioned the boy, plopping down on your bed as he trailed behind you, the door coming to a close as he did.

"Return of the Jedi, although not my favourite, I figured it's best we get this one out the way." Peter tells you, setting his laptop at the bottom of your bed. You let out a groan of protest, which didn't go unnoticed by him.

You adored Peter's dorkiness, it was one of the many reasons you were dating him, but sometimes it smothered you whenever it was Star Wars related, and you both knew you couldn't really get into the franchise itself no matter if you pretended to or not.

"What?" He asks quite frantically, a small pout forming on his lips.

"This is the fourth Star Wars movie we seen during our movie nights." You pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but the last one didn't really count because we were fu-"

"Okay! But that's different, and that only happened 'cause I didn't want to watch another Star Wars movie." You cut Peter's words off rather quickly as he lets out a laugh.

"No, really?" His voice comes out sarcastic and you roll your eyes.

"Can we just please watching something else?" You pleaded, your first and maybe last attempt at the puppy dog eyes you were giving him.

Peter eyes you for a moment, fighting a debate in his head rather to give in or just see where the night takes him if he insists you have to watch Return of the Jedi, and god knows you and your charm will have him doing the exact opposite as last time.

"Fine." He gives in after another heartbeat of silence, holding back an eye roll at your squeal of happiness.

"What movie did you have in mind?" He grumbles out, opening his laptop to a streaming service.

You think on his words for a minute, not really having a movie that you wanted to watch specifically. In all honesty, anything but a Star Wars movie would do perfectly fine. You say the first movie that comes to your head.

"Clueless." 

"And you say Star Wars is bad." Peter groans and you send the boy a glare.

"Nothing is wrong with Clueless, it's a perfectly good movie with decent comedy." You argue and Peter says nothing as he goes to search for the movie anyhow.

"Yeah, for someone who enjoys cheesy rom coms about rich people." He states back, successfully finding the movie, clicking play.

Thirty or so minutes passes by, the two of you cuddled close together as the laptop settles on Peter's lap, and you don't miss the yawn he lets out as he tries his best to not seem bored of the movie.

You would almost feel bad, but the past few movie nights has been his pickings and rather the two of you would pay attention or not, it was your turn, rightfully.

You feel Peter's figure shift, his hand wrapped around your arm, cuddling you closer as he lets out a bored sigh. You give him a side eye, a very annoyed one before you decide to just ignore his bored state and focus on the movie.

Peter then gives your shoulder a light kiss, running his fingers up and down your arm slowly and it certainly didn't take a rocket scientist to know exactly what he was trying to do.

"Peter." You warned, shrugging his close figure away from you and he smiles at your protests.

"Sorry." The boy apologies sheepishly, and you know all too well that he really wasn't.

After the interaction, a few more minutes pass by and you focus on the movie, or at least you tried to.

"What do you think you're doing?" You feel Peter's hand retreat from underneath your shirt, his hand taking home to your arm where it should had respectfully been anyway.

"I'm not doing anything?" Peter tells you, his voice confused, pretending to be watching the movie.

You roll your eyes at his words, smiling at the thought of Peter being so miserably bored, he'd do anything to distract you from the movie as well.

"Didn't seem that way." You point out, giving him a glance, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

"I know better than to have sex with you during our movie nights." Peter informs and you can tell his words are a clear mocking of the exact thing you do whenever it was a movie of his you didn't want to watch.

You shoot him a glare.

"First of all, I don't do it every time it's a movie you pick, and second of all, Clueless is a lot more entertaining than people in space." You argue, folding your arms over your chest, like a child would.

"I never said you did and this movie is way more boring and has no action." Peter bites back and you chuckle at the adorable pout on his face.

"Would you rather do something else? Like maybe, braid each other's hair, or put on face masks?" You suggest jokingly.

Peter finds no humour in your joke, and continues his pouting, watching the laptop screen, but not actually paying any attention to it.

"Or we could just make out." You joked some more, chuckling to yourself, because even if Peter didn't find anything you were saying funny, you knew you were on some level the funniest person to be known.

"Okay." You hear him say, and you stop yourself from your laughter, raising a quizzical eyebrow, your gaze reaching Peter's eager one.

"I was joking." You point out, and the boy shrugs, unaffected at your words.

"Well I wasn't and if sleeping with you won't drag your attention away from this boring movie, maybe making out with me will." The boy shows you an ear to ear grin and you tilt your head in disbelief.

"How about we finish this movie, then we'll see?" You say slowly, and Peter doesn't give that option into consideration.

"Or, we can see now." Peter pushes the laptop off his lap, turning to you rather quickly, attacking your lips before you could say or do anything.

The first time you and Peter ever kissed was well, awkward. It being your first relationship and vice versa, you never knew exactly how a kiss should be and obviously, neither did Peter. 

Though yes, it was really awkward, given the fact the two of were in the middle of having ice cream, and it was a very sticky, messy kiss, it still was somehow perfect. Some might say it wasn't, but oddly enough, it just made sense.

And ever since your first kiss, Peter made it his life's mission to prove just how progressively good he was at "sucking your face" (as MJ likes to call it).

With the movie now long forgotten, you swiftly fall under the spell that is Peter and his lips, the boy pulling you onto his lap.

The kiss had a mutual understand of the ache burning in your bodies, but you knew better than to act on it. Only because Peter had this annoying habit of leaving very noticeable blemishing on your skin and it took a lot of hours of makeup and strategic thinking to hide them, not only from your friends, but parents too.

Peter's hands were (very) eager, to grip pretty much any part of your body, settling for clasping his ungodly hold on your waist, which was a prominent touch you felt even through your shirt.

Your hands rested on his shoulder, sliding their way to the back of his neck, playing with the soft curls as they did so.

A keen noise escapes Peter's lips and you smile, continuing with the kiss.

There were moments like this were you were content with Peter's captivating presence. It was hard to put in words, but anytime you were in a proximity of him, you felt safe. Not only that, but the boy gave you every reason in the world to trust him with your life.

Hopefully Peter trusted you just as much as you trust him. You surely didn't doubt it, with how he was practically moaning in your mouth at the moment.

You two eventually have to pull away to catch your breath, and you. catch glimpse of Peter's dazed state, biting your bottom lip to stop the grin forming on your face.

"What?" Peter wonders, his flustered gaze staring at your curiously.

"Nothing, just love looking at your post make out face." You admit, running a hand through his head full of curls.

Peter says nothing, closing his eyes as he lets out a sigh of content at your gesture you've done plenty times before.

If it were up to you, you'd stay like this forever. Watching your boyfriend enjoy your delicate touch, his breathing at an even pace, letting you know he was comfortable and genuinely happy in any moment spent with you.

"We should get back to the movie." You suggest, attempting to remove yourself from his lap but unfortunately the spider boy had a stronger advantage.

You raise an eyebrow at him and his pout of protest.

"I'd rather you stay here and keep me warm." He suggests, sliding his hands behind your back for a hug.

You smile at his words, giving him a hug back, melting into his touch.

"If you know what I mean." You hear him say, smirking in your neck.

Your eyes roll at his suggestive option, pushing him away from you.

"Gross." You groan, successfully removing yourself from his lap, reaching for his laptop and unpausing the movie.

"It's not like you haven't done that before." 

"Peter!"

"Right, sorry."

[ao3cassandraic]

As far as they can

At the end of the Job minisode, Crowley inaugurates Their Side by proclaiming Aziraphale "an angel who goes along with Heaven... as far as he can," parallel to his own stated relationship with Hell.

Only it... doesn't actually work that way. Their exactlies are different exactlies.

Crowley defies and lies to Hell as often as he thinks he can get away with it. He never disabuses Downstairs of their misconceptions about his contributions to human atrocities. He cheerfully lies in his reports Downstairs, something Aziraphale briefly turns on his Baritone of Sarcastic Disapproval about in s1. Crowley even turns evil homeopathic in the latter part of the 20th century, likely in hopes that it will look good to head office while accomplishing essentially nothing. (This, of course, is another way he Crowleys himself, both with the London phone system and the M25.) After Eden, Crowley's default given an assignment from Hell is to see how he can subvert it.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, defies Her and Heaven as little as he possibly can. Sometimes, as with his sword giveaway, his compassion gets the better of his anxiety. Sometimes, as with Job's children in the destruction of the villa, he can try to stay within the letter of the law by leaving the defiance to Crowley.

His default, however, is "'m 'nangel. I can't dis- diso -- not do what 'm told." This comes out most often as respect for the Great/Divine Plan, which to him is sacrosanct. He sounds quite sincere in s1 when he says "Even if I wanted to help I couldn’t. I can’t interfere with the Divine Plan."

Aziraphale quite frequently Good Angels along by parroting Heaven's party line, whether it's "it'll all be rather lovely" or "I am good, you (I'm afraid) are evil" or droning on about evil containing the seeds of its own destruction, or condemning Elspeth's graverobbing as "wicked" (a stance he offers absolutely no reasoned support for, no logic, no "but She said," not a word -- that's very Heaven; most of Heaven's angels have the approximate brainpower of paramecia). Maestro Michael Sheen even has a particular voice cadence -- I think of it as Sententious Voice -- he uses when Aziraphale is thoughtlessly party-lining.

When the angel's conscience wars with his sense of Heaven's orthodoxy but (and this is an important but) he can't feasibly resist whatever's wrong, he offers strengthless party-line justifications he clearly doesn't agree with (as with the "rain bow" in Mesopotamia) or resorts to a Nuremberg defense: "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crowley!" Once or twice, he's even vocally aware of Heavenly hypocrisy: "Unless… [guns]'re in the right hands, where they give weight to a moral argument… I think." This isn't Sententious Voice. It's I-can't-disobey-and-I-hate-that voice.

But at base, the angel prefers obedience (not least because it's vastly safer), and he'd rather have someone else do his moral reasoning for him. Honestly? Pretty relatable. I know lots of people like this -- hell's bells, I've been this person, though I grew out of it somewhat -- and I daresay you do too. Moral reasoning is hard and often lonely (since it can be read as self-righteousness or even hypocrisy) and acting as it dictates can hurt. Nobody would need ethics codes if The Right Thing was also invariably The Convenient Thing.

Many GO fans find these Aziraphalean traits frustrating! Especially his repeated returns to parroting Heaven orthodoxy! Sometimes I do too! (Not least because I'm rather protective of my own integrity, and it's cost me quite a few times. I'm well-known in professional circles for picking up a rhetorical spear and tilting at the nearest iniquitous windmill. I often lose, but I sure do keep tilting. Every once in a blue moon I actually win one.)

The key, I think, to giving our angel a little grace on this (beyond honoring the gentle compassion that is pretty basic to his character) is noticing how often he can be induced to abandon an unconsidered Heavenish default stance. As irritating as his default is, and as consistently as he returns to it, it's not really that hard to talk him out of it. Crowley, of course, is tremendously good at knocking Aziraphale away from his default -- he's had to be. But Aziraphale even manages to talk himself away from his default once, in the form of the Ineffable Plan hairsplitting at the airbase!

I think the character-relevant point of the Resurrectionist minisode is making this breaking-the-Heavenish-default dynamic as clear as the contents of the pickled-herring barrel aren't. "That's lunatic!" Crowley exclaims, when Aziraphale Sententious Voicedly parrots Heaven's garbage about poverty providing extra opportunities for goodness. Aziraphale isn't quite ready to let go yet, replying "It's ineffable."

But Dalrymple (who, I think, parallels Heaven, perhaps even the Metatron -- there could be something decent there, but it's buried too deep under scorn and clueless privilege for any graverobber-of-souls to dig it out) manages to break Aziraphale's orthodoxy by explaining the child's tumor.

Once released from his orthodoxy, Aziraphale can't be trusted to handle moral reasoning well; his moral-reasoning ability is not-uncommonly (though not always) portrayed as vitiated. When he gives Elspeth the go-ahead to dig up more bodies, his excuses are just as vacuous as they were when he was convinced of her wickedness. He knows that he's crossed Heaven's line, too, and just as at Eden it's worrying him. That's why he has to talk to Crowley to nerve himself up to help Wee Morag... only he spends too much time talking, and it's too late.

But Crowley can then talk him into bankrolling Elspeth toward a better life. Aziraphale doesn't even put up any fight, both because he's compassionate and because Crowley is temporarily taking the place of Heaven (he's even Heaven-sized and staring down at them!) as the angel's moral compass.

S1 has an even worse example of Aziraphale's moral wavering, actually. Crowley yells "Shoot him, Aziraphale!" and Aziraphale sure does try to murder Adam. Again, he's adopting his morals from the nearest (and loudest) convenient source. Madame Tracy, thankfully, has enough of a moral backbone to save our angel from himself and Crowley.

(With my ersatz-ethicist hat on: this is a fight between utilitarianism and deontology. Crowley is the utilitarian, which is actually a bit of a departure for him, but he's admittedly desperate. Madame Tracy is the deontologist: One Doesn't Kill Children. Aziraphale is caught in the middle.)

I wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason we start s3 with Aziraphale and Crowley separated is so that Aziraphale finally has to do his own moral reasoning, without Crowley's nudges. I don't think it'll be easy for him. It will absolutely be lonely. And it may well hurt.

But I will watch for it, because it's how he will become his own angel, independent of Heaven and even of Crowley. And he must do that.