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#they aren't great by any means but they have a lot of fun and that's what matters!!!
muzaktomyears · 1 day
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There are about eighty things wrong with working for the Beatles and one of them is that there aren't any Beatles any more and another is that one forgets who one is, whoever one may be; the experience of working for the Beatles has affected all of us in different ways, but affected us it has and forever; come what may we will never be the same. (…) Oh, it has been a great adventure, and we all shared the fun. The Beatles were generous with the fun. The Beatles liked the people around them and the people around them liked the Beatles. We were not sycophants, yet we were rarely bold. I think we were always nervous because there were four of them, and only four. There were two assets common to those who survived a close relationship with them: 1. We didn't want to be Beatles and we didn't ever think about their money; 2. We were good at what we did and what we did they couldn't do. (...) I don't know whether to laugh or cry now that it's all over. I mean I miss the Beatles, they were part of all our lives and all our loving, and yet it is nice for them and for us from the inner clique to be ourselves, so again, I ask, who are we? Will we ever be allowed to go out and about as normals, or will we always be offered bones to inspect and label: 'Which one was it who really split them up?' 'Who was your favourite?' I dunno, I dunno, I think sometimes that the people closest to them are the people the Beatles resent most. We were so adjacent to the truth, to the money, so near to the fame, and the success and all of the glamglitscreamcheer that we got to look very like courtiers, covered in gold dust. Did they ever think: ‘Goddamn them! Who do they think they are? Who needs them? We are the Beatles, we are the four.’ (...) Neil and Mal and me and Peter, we were there because we wanted to serve the Beatles, we were heavy fans, so are all the people around them; I guess the whole world is and the miracle is not that the Beatles survived the world’s adoration (they didn’t, they took a powder to end the pain), but that Lennon and McCartney and Harrison and Starkey had the wit and wisdom to cling to the good earth and not fall off. Clinging to reality can take a lot out of a man and I think that towards the end, they were looking at us like parents having troubles enough of their own, looking at a houseful of full-grown sons, sitting around making tea. If any of them had said, ‘Why don’t you lot go out and get a job?’ was the feeling I got, so here I am, sitting at this desk.
As Time Goes By, Derek Taylor (1973)
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ocala-is-calling · 26 days
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Look at them 🥹
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bookdragonideas · 2 months
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Here's the thing. I'm a girl, and as a girl, I really like it when girls are portrayed in fiction. Especially fantasy.
But so much fiction/fantasy mixes up 'girls' with 'unstoppable forces of female badass' and there's not necessarily anything wrong with having a character who is an 'unstoppable forces of female badass'. But it gets old real quick. And it is not the same as portraying normal girls, or having good female characters.
And that's one of the many reasons I love Avatar the Last Airbender.
Because all the girl characters have flaws and weaknesses and sometimes act like idiots or jerks. They get emotional and make mistakes. They lose fights or arguments or are just wrong sometimes. Some of them are amazing warriors, and some aren't. Some are powerful or special and some are normal, with nothing special about them.
And I Love that.
I was around the same age as Katara when I first watched Atla. And I instantly connected with her as a character. I loved her optimistic attitude and her fighting spirit. And I could relate with her anger, and with her maternal instinct. I admired her fighting skills of course, but I loved how the show portrayed her compassion and kindness, the way she could both beat up a bunch of bullies AND enjoy a relaxing day at the spa. She was a baddass warrior that should never be crossed. But she was also a normal teenage girl who had a lot of the same internal struggles and problems that I did.
(I never connected to Toph on the same level, but I did relate to her on a few things. She's an adorable trash gremlin who would commit any crime for fun and I love that. But she struggles with being both independent and letting people help her, and I still struggle with that sometimes. I've learned that sometimes, you can help others by letting them help you.)
Yue is, in my opinion, a perfect example of a type of hero that seems to be disappearing. She is not a warrior. She is not a fighter. She's not even a bender.
Yue is a perfect princess, a perfect daughter. She is extremely feminine in a rather older sense.
And she was the only one who could save the world. She gave up everything for her people. She saved everything, everyone, the entire world. Without ever becoming a fighter.
Yue is a perfect example of a girl who was never more than a girl, and how that's okay. Not every girl has to be rough and tumble and fight for her rights in order to change everything. Sometimes it's okay to just be a quiet obedient girly girl. Sometimes that's all it takes to be a hero.
And I love that. Yue is strong in her own way. She is unique and interesting. She appears in only a few episodes and yet manages to be one of my favorite characters.
Song is another great example of this. Song is a healer in a small town. We don't see much of her but we see her compassion and empathy. She is gentle and generous. A healer not a fighter.
She watches Zuko steal her ostrich horse and does nothing.
Is that because she's kind and generous and knows he needs it more? Or is it because she's a healer girl who knows she can't actually stop those two from taking the horse? Maybe neither, maybe both. I have always thought that the scene where Zuko steals the horse and only the audience knows she saw it is one of the most thought-provoking in the series.
Suki is a badass warrior woman who is an awesome fighter and good leader. She is one of the best non bender fighter we see in the entire show. She was one of the smartest, most efficient, and powerful characters we ever saw.
She kissed a boy she had just met because she thought he was cute.
Now don't get me wrong I love SokkaxSuki. Its one of the best couples in the show.
But Suki totally did the old 'love at first sight' thing. And that is awesome. Because when she kisses him she delivers one of the best lines, not only from her, but, I think, in the entire show.
"I AM a warrior, but I'm a girl too."
Being a warrior doesn't mean that she isn't also a teenage girl. She might be a fighter, but she still gets crushes and likes to flirt with cute boys. And hey, she picked a good one. Not every boy is going to come break you out of prison.
Anyways, let's have more realistic girls in fiction. And please enjoy the next 24 hours.
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Dear Good Omens fandom friends,
can we please agree to keep our sand in our sandbox?
We have a great sandbox. It's big and full of people building castles and villages and roads and stuff. Some of that is big and complicated and detail-oriented, some of it is strange and weird and funny, some if it is off-the-rails in any and all senses of the word. All of it is lovely. Some of it tries to rebuild Neil Gaiman's sandcastle as faithful as possible, either to build onto it or to try and find out where the secret rooms might be hidden. Some of it looks a lot like his but has its own little turrets and courtyards and gardens added everywhere. Some of it looks completely different and doesn't try to hide it. Some of it isn't even meant to be taken seriously and just exists to make people laugh. But there is so much of it that everybody can find something for themselves; and if we don't we just find a free space and start shifting sand ourselves.
Neil Gaiman has his own sandbox. He has built something brilliant and beautiful in it, and he is currently busy building another storey onto it. He doesn't want anybody to see the new part before it is finished, and I know that sometimes the excitement of finally wanting to see it is hard to bear.
But that is why we have our sandbox. To make our own stuff until he reveals the rest of that sandcastle we all love so much. To pass the time, to have fun with it, to meet new people and find more brilliant little sandcastles. Never again will there be as much creativity, as much activity, as many people around in this sandbox than there is now, in the time before the last bit of his castle is revealed. I am sure most of us will be delighted and surprised at what he will have created. Some will be disappointed because they were expecting his sandcastle to look different, some will be disappointed because they saw a castle in our sandbox they liked much more, but most will be delighted because after all we came up with he will still have managed to surprise us.
Our sandbox. His sandbox.
The two are separated for a reason.
Because if you keep throwing sand into his box to get his attention, or keep trying to get a good look at what he is doing over there, or keep yelling at him to look over to ours and tell you which one looks like the one he is trying to make, or which one is the best, or how stupid one of the others looks (last one would also make you a dick), you are quite simply risking the new part of his sandcastle to collapse. Or for him to have to remake it in a way he didn't plan to, or simply dislikes, or that we will all dislike.
And just because he is glad we are enjoying ourselves and proud that his work inspired us to create all these things, doesn't mean he wants to see (all of) it. Some things he definitely wouldn't want to see; other things the creators definitely don't want him to see.
I'm proud of our sandbox. It's huge. It's brilliant. It's creative. It's collaborative. And it's ours.
Have fun in it. But keep it apart from his. Keep out of his. And keep him out of ours. Stop trying to drag him over. He has stuff to do. Important stuff. Stuff I, for one, am waiting very impatiently for.
And he will never show us the parts of the castle that aren't finished yet, no matter how often you ask. And just because he is making an effort to be funny about it doesn't mean we aren't annoying him when we keep asking.
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barleyo · 8 months
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Love Machine.
Android! Leon Kennedy X Fem! Reader (smut)
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A/N: I got this idea while listening to a song with the same title. This was my first time writing for Leon, I hope it isn't too clunky or too short! I am slowly coming out of my hiatus, so my writing skills are a bit rusty, I need you all to give me a little grace for the next few posts in case they aren't great LOL. Love you all so much, thanks for your support!
Part Two: Here
Wordcount: 2.4K
Tags: sex doll/living sex robot (?), sex toys, oral (fem receiving), reader is called things like "pretty girl", p in v, creampie (but not really because he's a sex doll??), unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play
“Welcome in, can I help you find anything?”
(Y/N) gave the cashier a polite smile and shook her head as she walked past him at the check-out desk, trying to be as non-awkward as possible, especially since she was the only customer in the small store at that time of night. It was an in and out trip, she tried to convince herself of that. She needed something small, just enough to get the job done. 
Normally, she would’ve waited until the next day to run an errand like this, but days of stress had left her needy and frustrated, so when her trusty wand finally gave out on her mid-fun, she grabbed her car keys and headed out into the night. 
Her eyes scanned the wall of toys in the back of the store. Pink and purple covered the shelves, vibrating toys and dildos being her main focus. 
“Mini-vibe, bullet vibe,” she mumbled, squatting down to read the boxes on the lower shelves. “What’s even the difference–?”
She settled on a purple rabbit vibrator. Its packaging was the least indicative of its contents, and it was on the smaller side. Easy to hide. 
“Will that be all?” the cashier asked, looking over the box. 
“Yeah, that should be it.”
“You know,” he said, giving her a wide grin, “I can’t say I can suggest this one.” He held the box back out to her, waiting for her to take it. “We’ve gotten a lot of refunded purchases due to it.”
“Oh, shit, really?” (Y/N) took the box back, tucking it under her arm. “Okay, uh, I guess I should ask what the best option would be, then?”
The cashier gave a nod and waved her over, lifting the divider between behind the counter and the rest of the store. “Come with me to the back, we’ve got all the good stuff tucked away back there.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking about whether or not to follow him. She didn’t immediately catch any red flags in his behavior: he was polite enough, no major creep-vibes. (Y/N) finally walked past the open divider and followed him into the stock room. 
“So, over here,” he said, waving his hand over a heavily stocked shelf, “is all the high-powered stuff. These over here have a high-customization level, lingerie over here, and over here ....” 
The man continued to go over the ‘hidden’ options in the store, but (Y/N)’s eyes traveled over to a large, sheet-covered box. 
“Hey, what’s that over there?” she asked, pointing at the box. 
“Oh, that? That’s new, uhm, probably a little out of your comfort zone, though, he’s a little advanced.”
“He?”
The cashier sighed and stepped up to the box, gripping the corner of the sheet. “It’s—it’s a long story, but, here, have a look.”
He pulled the sheet down, dropping it to the cement floors of the room.
“What the fuck is that?!”
A blond man stood in the plain box, the only adornment on the cardboard being his name in bolded letters: Leon. His eyes were closed, his hands sat idly beside his sides, and his body stood bare before them both.
“His name is Leon, he’s a prototype for a new line of responsive sex dolls. I mean, most of the bugs are out of the system, he’s not faulty or anything.”
(Y/N) walked up to the box and scratched the cellophane covering, trying to get his attention. “Is he awake? Or on, I guess?”
“Nah, he has to be set up, there’s a manual in the box, I think,” the man replied, bending down to pick the sheet back up to throw over Leon’s box. Just as he began to shake the sheet off, clearing the residual dirt off of it, (Y/N) spoke again.
“How much for him?”
She mentally smacked herself for asking. There was no doubt he was expensive, hell, he probably wasn’t even up for sale.
“You want him?” He raised his eyebrow, looking the girl up and down, confusion painting his features.
“I– I don’t know, can I have him? How much?”
He crossed his arms for a moment, thinking. “He’s not for sale, per se, but– so, listen, okay?”
“Yeah?”
“You can have him for free, okay? But if you aren’t satisfied with him, you can’t bring him back here, you’re stuck with ‘em.” He held his hand out expectantly. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, taking his hand quickly, giving it a few affirming shakes.
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The boxcutter in her hand worked quickly, slicing open the cellophane. (Y/N) bunched up the plastic and threw it to a random corner in her bedroom, turning back to face Leon. She gave him a testing poke, and when he didn’t respond she turned that poke into a gentle tapping on the side of his face.
“Leon?” The name felt like acid on her tongue, guilt already creeping through her. “Wake up.”
She dropped her hand from his face and guided it further down his chest. The synthetic skin felt real, almost in an uncanny way. He was warm to the touch, not plastic-y and cold like how she assumed other sex dolls felt. 
“Come on, big boy.” she muttered, pulling Leon’s large, heavy body out of the box and placing him on his feet near her bed. “Where’s your–? Oh, got it.” (Y/N) snatched the instruction manual from the box. The print was foggy, and some words were horribly misspelled, but she flipped through the pages and located the directions page. She read the page to herself quietly. “I am Leon, your AI-powered male sex doll. The setup process of a Leon doll is extremely easy. To turn me on, just set my dial. After that, just sit back and let me love you for a little while!” 
(Y/N) walked a small circle around him in search of his ‘on-switch.’ She found it right on the back of his neck, almost hidden by his swoop of blond hair. On the silver dial sat three options: Off, gentle, and rough. A hand rose and ticked the dial to gentle. She stepped away from him quickly after hitting the switch, nervous to see what would happen.
His eyes opened slowly, and a weak blue light beamed from them, scanning outwards before shutting off completely. A grin slowly spread across Leon’s all-too-real features as he powered on. 
“Hey there, pretty girl,” he said, standing still in her room, only moving his head to face her. “Looks like you could use some company.”
“Uh, hello.” Her mouth was dry as she spoke, feeling like she made a bad decision the second he had snapped to life. 
“Hm, why don’t you come closer to me? I don’t bite,” Leon paused before cheekily adding “unless you want me to.” He took her in his arms and let his eyes drift down her body. He eased her shirt over her head and tried to undo the clasps of her bra.
“What are you doing?” She tried to pull away but he held her in place.
“You have all your clothes, but I’m exposed over here. That’s not so fair, is it?” He looked down at his hardened length, ushering her to look down with him.
Her eyes widened a bit. “When did you even get hard–?”
“I’m always hard around pretty girls like you.” He slipped off her bra and groped her breasts with his large, somewhat calloused hands. “Look at these, baby. You have pretty tits, and a pretty face, huh?” 
A hum left her throat as she felt his head dip down and take one of her swollen nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the bud, latching on to properly suck it after a few teasing moments. She ran her hands through his hair and gripped onto it tightly, whining at the feeling of his mouth popping off of her tit. 
“Bet you’re getting wet from this, aren’t you?” His voice was airy and muffled while he spoke. He left open mouthed licks over her pebbled nipples, grazing over them with his tongue’s warmth.
She gave a weak nod in return.
“Mm, maybe I should take care of that,” he chuckled lightly and lowered himself to his knees. “Gonna let me take these off you?” He tugged at the waistband of her shorts.
“G’head,” (Y/N) said, feeling her thighs rub against each other impatiently. 
He pulled them down to her ankles and she stepped out of them, leaving her in just her panties. She shuddered at the feeling of his tongue darting across the cotton covering her wet center. Again, Leon laughed a bit at her reaction and licked a heavier stripe against the fabric. When he was rewarded with a gasp from her open mouth, he pulled the panties to the side and pressed his tongue at her slit.
“F–Fuck, that feels good,” she whined, hand still messily buried in his hair. 
Leon kept his eyes on her the whole time, not letting a moment pass where his blue irises weren’t piercing hers. 
His tongue dipped out of her entrance and moved up to her clit. He fidgeted with it, trying to see which motion worked best on her, and settled on a circular movement. The longer he sat slotted between her thighs, her knees thrown over his shoulders, the more frequently he felt her cunt jump from pleasure. He placed his tongue hard on her clit, giving it rough, pressured licks. 
“Almost there, I’m close,” (Y/N) said, feeling a coil form in her stomach. She had felt this with other toys, but by far, Leon was the best at the job. “Don’t stop,” she hummed, voice catching in her throat while he moved his head side to side, dragging his mouth sloppily over her cunt.
A string of profanities escaped her mouth when she felt her orgasm hit. A sputtering wave of warmth flushed through her body, her pussy clenching around nothing. 
“That’s it, good job,” Leon cooed. He held his hand up to her face expectantly. “Spit.”
Her mind already felt melted, like it could’ve oozed out of her brain at any minute. She mindlessly complied with him, spitting onto his lengthy fingers.
“Ah–! S’too much, Leon.”
“No, no, you can take it. I’ll be gentle, I know you want another one,” he said with a slightly mocking tone. “Greedy girl needs something to fill her up.” Plunging his fingers into her pussy, he groaned at the feeling of her slick walls still fluttering. “Y’haven’t even recovered from the first one, but I’m gonna give you another one,” he said, curling his fingers, “gonna be twice as strong.”
“Fuck, it’s too much,” (Y/N) knew her sobs of pleasure were pathetic sounding, but she couldn’t muster anything else up as she tried to push his wrist down and away, not being able to stand the feeling of his two fingers prodding at her most sensitive spot. 
“Don’t fight it,” he warned, “not when you’re so close. Yeah, I feel you getting all tight on me. Mm, you’re gonna love how it feels, it only gets better from here, pretty girl.” 
Leon became more aggressive with his movement, moving his whole arm as his fingers jammed in and out of her. (Y/N) was lost in her ecstasy. Her hands shook and flew aimlessly before taking purchase of Leon’s shoulders and holding onto them, nails digging into the skin.
Her second release, as promised, was much stronger. Her legs clamped around him, her moans came out in long, shaky intervals, and her brain was mush. She couldn’t force herself to focus on anything but the cum dripping out of her cunt and down Leon’s fingers and forearm. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling even the dim light of her bedroom to be too much for her now fucked-out, slutty head to handle. 
She hardly noticed when he had placed on her back in the bed with her legs spread. Not until he guided his cock across her folds, tapping the head of it against her swollen, abused clit. 
“More?” she asked, voice breaking and weak. “Can’t take it ‘nymore.”
“C’mon, sweet thing, you can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more?” He whispered into her ear, slowly pushing into her, holding himself back. 
“Jus’ one? No more after that?”
“Mhm, just one.” Leon bottomed out and stretched her walls with his girth. The tip of his cock gave sweet, shallow kisses to her cervix’s tip, gently pressing into it with each thrust. His hips rocked into her, but he felt his dick being forced out of her walls, pushed out of her heat. “Even after all that, still tight f’me.” He slid back in, rougher this time, trying to keep himself inside. “Need somethin’ to stretch you out, baby. Good thing y’got me now.”
His hands were placed under her knees, scooping and holding them apart while he fucked her. He slowly transitioned from fucking and burrying his cock into her, to bringing her body forward, bouncing her on his cock. 
“Leon—”
“Hush, now, you’re okay. Mm,” he wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, “look at how you take it. It’s like you were made to be used like this, sweet girl. Maybe you’d be better off as a toy.” 
She moaned at this, feeling her cunt twitch at his words.
“Yeah? You like that?” Leon’s eyebrow raised at her a bit, teeth barring in smirk. “You like being a little toy. Being– oh, fuck, you’re enjoying this so much. Your pretty little face...”
(Y/N) threw her arms over his neck, pulling him closer to her body. Their chests pressed together, her sweat slick between them both. “God, Leon, please!”
Leon pressed his mouth on her to quiet her down, swallowing her moans as their tongues and teeth gnashed against each other. He winced as (Y/N) bit down on his lip, choking back her sobs when she clamped down on his cock. Taking this as a sign, Leon emptied his thick, synthetic cum into her. 
Once he pulled out, a mixture of both of their cum pumped out, gushing and wetting in between her thighs.
“Good job, baby,” he said, stroking her face, grinning at the warmth of her cheek. “You did so well, getting all cockdrunk for me. To think I was being gentle. Wanna try my rough mode out for size?” He joked, letting his hand grip her hip. 
“Goodnight, Leon,” she responded, unimpressed at his teasing and tired from what he had done to her. She brought her hand to the back of his neck and turned his dial to ‘off.'
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neil-gaiman · 1 year
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Hi Mr Gaiman! What do you think of Good Omens being rewritten from a Jewish perspective instead of a Christian one? (not for profit or anything just a fun idea to explore the theological differences through a work I adore)
If by "a Jewish Perspective" you mean, not using any material from the New Testament, you'd need to tell a very alternate universe version in your version of the story. Demons (and dybbuks) would exist, although there are different Jewish traditions about what they are -- but the concept of Fallen Angels isn't ever part of the story, so the Crowley and Aziraphale story might be a little harder to pull off. You'd lose the Four Horsemen, of course.
Here's a lovely article on Demonology from a Jewish perspective over the centuries: https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/demons-and-demonology
You still have the apocalypse, of course (lots of lovely apocalypses predicted) but they tend to tie in to messianism. So you'd probably have Crowley and Aziraphale working to stop the Messiah from turning up and ending the world.
(Here's a great set of essays on Jewish Apocalypses: https://www.associationforjewishstudies.org/docs/default-source/ajs-perspectives/ajsp12fa.pdf?sfvrsn=17fadb06_2)
It's not really theological differences, though. Both Good Omens and your hypothetically More Jewish version would primarily be leaning into cultural myths and stories and stuff that aren't anywhere in the Bible anyway.
(And the original Good Omens was at least half-written from a Jewish perspective: mine.)
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How the kings would react to the shipping of them and MC
Satan
He was hanging out with his nobles, just talking gossip like normal people
But Paimon was just staying on his phone through half the conversations
"Paimon! What's so important that you're not interested in seing Sitri's baby pictures?"
Sitri was dying in the corner while Zagan was rubbing his back
Paimon takes his eyes out of his phone and giggles.
"Oh, I was just arguing with some people onlineeee"
Satan puts down the pictures of baby Sitri on the table (which Astaroth swiftly takes for himself. This will make such great blackmail material) and sits next to Paimon curiously.
"What are these dumpass arguing about now? Don't tell me Leraye started sending death threats to Barbatos over the weather again."
"Noooooo, it's better than thaaaaat. People are arguing about who the child of Solomon would dateeeee"
Satan takes Paimon's phone and starts to scroll through the comversations.
"And I'm winning, right? I mean MC has a pact with me, I was the first to meet them, it's obvious that I'm the one they'll choose"
"I know, riiiiiight?"
Satan would become the most active person in the shipping forum, just spamming it with pictures of him and MC
It's a way to assert his dominance over the whole thing.
Gamigin almost started a war between Paradise Lost and Gehenna when he started insulting Satan under his photos of MC
Mod Jjok had to work overtime to stop the harassment everyone in Gehenna was throwing at Gamigin for that
Lucifer had to send a formal apologise on behalf of his son to stop the situation from escalating further.
Mammon
Recently Eligos asked him to try on different fashion styles
At some point Mammon asks Eligos what this is all about
"The child of Solomon mentioned that they are interested in gothic fashion, so I'm trying to see what clothing would fit you and abide by goth fashion rules."
Mammon chuckles and ruffles Eligos' hair before telling him that he is already to his master's liking
"But there are a lot of people that claim that MC would be more interested in the other kings. We can't have that! Just yesterday Amon was bragging that MC and Beelzebub went on a date!"
"I'm glad they had fun with Beelzebub, but Beelzebub is mine and I am MC's. They can have fun with anyone they please."
Eligos' jaw drops to the floor. He gets flashbacks of all the arguments he had online about this and how he bought bots to mass report any Mammon x Mc slander
Eligos constantly tries to convince Mammon that the shipping wars are a big but Mammon doesn't really care.
At most he sends pictures of him and MC cuddling to Satan to spite him like all good friends do with eachother.
Leviathan
Leviathan is a lurker through the forums
It's where he got most of his information about you before kidnapping you
Probably reports all posts that aren't for the ship with him and you for false information
He would constantly post pictures of you and him doing mundane things with captions like "Living life perfectly", "Greatest day of my life", "Me and my wonderful significant other"
Makes everyone in Hades like his post and floud it with compliments
He'll make an account for you where he roleplays as a version of you that's madly innlove with you
The most likely to start an actual war between Hades and whatever ship is trending that morning
He sometimes doesn't sleep and just scrolls through the forums, refreshing constantly to see if you're having fun with someone else
King of all doxxers
No VPN will protect you from Leviathan's wrath
Beelzebub
Beelzebub was tied to his office chair with Bael glaring at him
"Go on, look at the complaint. What does it say?"
"I should take a vacation. I'm already burned out. You know, overworking is very bad for your health."
Bael glares at him with not an ounce of amusement behind his eyes
When Beelzebub skims through the files, something catches his attention
"Threat of war from Hades? I don't remember going to Hades recently, what happened?"
"While you were away having fun with the child of Solomon, Amon posted pictures of you two going at it on a forum. Next thing I know, his majesty Leviathan declared war on Avisos. I had to talk him out of it, but we now have to write a report about what happened and send it to the other kingdoms to tell them that it was resolved without any casualties."
Beelzebub was laughing his ass off while Bael was question his life choices
Beelzebub asks Amon to show him the forum which the younger devil does happily.
He sometimes go through it often, but he uses it as a way to find out where you are.
He's chiller about the whole thing, finding it kind of funny that so many people are so invested in your love life
Lucifer
Gamigin won't shut up about it.
If Lucifer took a shot every time Gamigin complained about the shipping wars, he'll dethrone Beelzebub as the king of Gluttuny
Lucifer is a softer lover, only being intense in more private parts of your relationship
So even getting him to kiss you in public (or outside the bedroom) is very hard.
This makes Gamigin's job as a shipper very hard
Lucifer finds the shipping war situation absurd
Why would anyone do this? What is it accompleshing? Why does he suddently get embargos from Hades or Gehenna after he goes on a date with you?
He'll probably have to sit Gamigin down and tell him to stop calling the other kings rude names just because they hang out with you.
It really depends on your reaction to everything as well
If you like being in the spot light, than he'll try to be more open with his affection, giving Gamigin more oportunities to gush about you online
If you want to keep your relationship more private, than he'll make all cameras fracture when pointing at the two of you
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luveline · 2 months
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What about if in Eddie and Roan, Eddie and Reader' are both occupied with wedding stuff or smth else and they left Roan with either Wayne or Steve and Robin, and it's just fluffy fluff about them being the best uncles/grandpa ever?
Roan wraps her arms around his neck. “Why can’t I come?” 
Her dad has pretty much always felt like an extension of her. He’s dad. So when she doesn’t get to go places with him that aren't work or school, it doesn’t make sense. She’d care less if Uncle Wayne wasn’t too tired for a slumber party, because her Uncle Wayne is the best uncle ever. 
“Baby,” Eddie says, in that soft sweet voice that means she’s being let down easy, “you can’t come because it’s a lot to do in one day, okay?” He encourages her face back. He’s on his knees to be her height, but he’s still taller. “I know you want to come, but it won’t be any fun at all. We have to go argue with people all day. Y/N’s gonna put on her scary mommy pants and I’m gonna have to back her up because she’s my girl.” 
Roan just looks at him. Eddie grins. 
“Okay, but will you bring me something?” she asks in a whisper. 
You laugh where you’re standing in the doorway behind him. 
“What do you want?” he asks. 
She leans in to whisper in his ear. When she pulls away, he’s squaring his expression into something quite fierce. She’s confident she’ll have what she asks for as soon as he’s home. 
You and Eddie kiss her goodbye, hands quick to intertwine as you walk down the driveway, though you take your hand back to wave at her with both hands when you realise she’s waiting on the porch for you to go. 
Steve holds her shoulder. “Should we go back inside?” 
Roan tips her head back. “Steve…” 
“What, babe?” 
“Can we get ice cream?” 
He holds her gaze. “Maybe. Depends.” 
“On what?” 
“We have dinner first, and you have to eat two vegetables. Because last time your dad said I’m terrible at looking after you.” 
“You’re not terrible,” Roan says, shaking her head vehemently. 
Roan offers him her arms and he picks her up. When she was a baby Steve and Robin used to call her Princess Ro on account of her never being put down, but that was usually because she’d been traded from arm to arm rather than her being demanding. She was demanding, of course, she was a baby. 
“Thank you, Roan. I know I’m not terrible, your dad just loves giving me a hard time.” 
“He does that to me too.” 
“He does not,” Steve chastises, “your dad is a great dad. Just don’t tell him I said that.” 
“Me and dad don’t have secrets,” she says. 
“I know, that’s why he’s a good dad.” Steve sighs forlornly. “Ew. Let’s be less sincere from now on. What movie do you wanna watch?” 
“You have The Little Mermaid?” 
Obviously Steve has The Little Mermaid. He plops Roan down on the couch and she balls herself up tightly. Steve thinks she might be a bit grouchy today, but it’s hard to say yet. He tries to nip it in the bud before it can start, wrapping her in the blanket she likes with the soft ends and cutting her a boat load of apples for peanut butter. “Thanks, Uncle Steve,” she says, stretching her legs out over his thigh. Steve squeezes one of her feet until she grumbles and pulls it away. “I forgot you do that.” 
Steve laughs loudly. “Do what, babe?” 
“You’re like dad. You aga-vate.” 
“I do, huh?” he asks, patting her leg. “Sorry. Just teasing.” 
“Mom says teasing is okay if it doesn’t hurt your feelings.” 
“Did I hurt your feelings?” 
“You hurt my foot.” 
“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing, because he knows it didn’t hurt too much. 
“It’s okay. I don’t want feet, I want a fish tail.” 
“You do not,” Steve says, squeezing under her knee. She grumbles more and kicks at him, a few of her apple slices sliding off of her plate and onto the blanket. She doesn’t notice. 
Robin lets herself in not long after. She’s in sweatpants with her hair up, arms laden with soda and bags of chips. “Hey, Ro,” she says. Even when Roan was a baby, Robin has talked to her like she’s an adult. “You look comfortable. Did you miss me?” 
Roan seems to have missed Robin lots —Robin sits down and within twenty minutes has Roan snuggled under her arm, another twenty and she’s giggling sleepily at the murderous chef trying to cook the Little Mermaid’s crab friend. 
Steve and Robin are best friends, and great watchers, though it’s much easier to look after a kid when you’re allowed to spoil them. They feed Roan chips and soda (though they aren’t animals, the soda is limited to one small cup, and the chips are before a dinner that includes three different vegetables), and they let her jump on the couch and climb up on the kitchen counter to play with the soap dispenser. 
Pick up time comes and passes. Roan sits kicking her feet on the kitchen table, her coat unzippered and her wellies hitting the chair. “Are they late?” she asks. 
Steve offers her a slice of orange. “Yeah, babe, it looks like it.” 
“Are they gonna never come back?” 
“Of course they’re coming back,” Robin says, “your dad has no personality outside of you. He needs you to be happy.” 
Roan smiles to herself. “Yes,” she agrees, taking a bite of her orange. 
Steve kneels in front of her and pulls the two sides of her jacket together. “Your teeth are orange.” 
Roan accidentally drops the orange rind out of her teeth. It rolls down her legs and hits him in the shirt, leaving a greeny tinged stain on his blue polo. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 
“That’s okay,” he says, zipping her coat to the collar and brushing her hair back away from her sticky cheeks gently, “I’ll just charge your dad extra.” 
“You’re the best, Uncle Steve,” Roan decides. 
He strokes her hair behind her ears. “You are the best, Roan. My favourite Munson ever.” 
Her eyes light with joy. “Really?” 
“Really truly.” 
“That’s a bit controversial,” Robin says, clipping Roan’s backpack shut to house what was left of her chips. 
“I don’t like Eddie and Wayne doesn’t tell me good job when I wash my hands.” Steve shrugs. “No competition.” 
The phone rings. When Robin picks up, she says that it’s Eddie, and Eddie needs to talk to Steve, who, after a short conversation, passes the phone to Roan. 
“Dad?”
“Hey, baby! Sorry we’re not there, we went to the wrong place for mom’s hair stuff and it was a disaster, we won’t be home for another hour, I’m sorry. Are you really mad?” 
“I'm not really mad.” 
“I’m bringing you a present, remember? So can you keep being a good girl for Uncle Steve? No shouting?” 
Roan decides this is alright. Eddie tells her he loves her about six times and Roan hands the phone back up because she can’t reach the receiver, letting Steve hang up. She frowns at the floor, her head hanging, dark hair curling in front of her eyes.
“How about we make use of your shoes and coat and go get that ice cream I promised?” he suggests. “Anything you want. You did eat all your vegetables.” 
Robin rolls her eyes. Roan slouches sadly into his legs, the beginnings of a smile on her lips when she looks up at him and asks, “Hot fudge?” 
“As much hot fudge as you want,” he promises. 
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Text
Are you a gentile university professor that wants to accommodate your Jewish students?
Great! You're a rare lot, unfortunately. Here are few things you need to know:
-Shabbat begins at sundown on Friday and ends at nightfall on Saturday night. That means that in the Winter, you may have some Jewish students in your late afternoon courses that might have to miss class or leave early because of Shabbat starting early.
-Contrary to popular belief, Shabbat doesn't end at sundown Saturday night. It ends at nightfall, which is usually an hour *after* sunset. This means that in the Summer, Shabbat ends very late. Don't expect students to answer any email or correspondence you send them on Saturday.
-Schoolwork is work. Don't expect your Jewish students to have to complete any schoolwork on Shabbat or holidays. I don't care how easy you think it is, many Jews won't even touch a pencil on Shabbat or a holiday.
-Judeochristian beliefs aren't a thing. Don't call the King James Bible or any other Christian Bible a "foundation of Jewish belief". We have the Tanakh. Not the Bible. Adding onto that, don't assume Christian interpretations of the Bible hold true to Jewish beliefs. 99% of the time you'll be wrong.
-You do not know more about Judaism than Jewish people, and if a Jew says something you do or say is antisemitic, listen to them and correct yourself.
-Don't try to Anglicize your Jewish students' Jewish names. It doesn't matter how hard you think it is to pronounce, make an effort.
-The word is "antisemitism", not "anti-semitism."
-If you offer food in class, don't pressure your Jewish students to eat it. They might keep kosher, and are trying their best to be polite and discreet, but by making a scene over them not eating the pizza you brought, you are alienating them. They shouldn't have to give a reason to you.
-You don't know a Jewish student's level of observance based on their behaviour or appearance. Additionally, many Jewish students become more observant in university, and it's a journey. If your Jewish student didn't take off for a holiday last year, and takes off this year, don't accuse them of "slacking off".
-Don't make sweeping statements about Judaism. And if you do and a Jewish student calls you out on them, listen to them.
-Debate about the Holocaust isn't a "fun exercise".
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mellowwillowy · 4 months
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Let's talk about Yan! TWST!
The Yan that enjoys inflicting pain on you would be...
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Riddle doesn't see the charm of hurting you and so are his card soldiers. But, that doesn't mean Riddle will not hurt you dear, oh noooo, do you remember the time your guardian punished you with something that hurt physically? A pinch on your forearm or a smack by the ruler? Take that double-fold.
"Now now, what did I say about standing straight?" Riddle fixes your posture with his staff before eyeing you from head to toe, "I assume you've been good today, you are safe from the... unsavory punishment, I'd say."
Cater can understand the charm of it, I mean, he enjoys biting you every now and then playfully! Now Imagine what if he does it with a different intention, hm?
Trey is, hm, 50/50. Just like Riddle except that part of him secretly loathes the fact that he wishes he could do more for you but that won't do good. He is not supposed to act like this.
The ADeuce duo? They are wholesome babies who just sometimes enjoy bullying you, just sometimes! Maybe a poke and prod here until it suddenly escalates into something that actually hurts you. Will immediately realize that and apologize to you nonstop.
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Leona? You bet you got lots of bite marks and scratch marks! He treats you like his chewing toy and he loves it! Well, part of his sadistic side will sometimes take over and turn this into a much darker turn.
"Hey, come now, don't trouble me from having to find you, herbivore. Stop hiding unless you want me to drag you out with my fangs."
Ruggie and Jack don't really get it. Aren't they supposed to treasure and protect those who they love? Sure, the animalistic sides of marking might come every now and then but that's as far as it goes.
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Alright, the Tweels are right off the bat. Any kind of pain honestly, physically and mentally. You get the drill. "What do you say if we turn you into a literal shrimp? Maybe... bend your back until you look like one, shrimpy?" "Kukuku, that is a great idea though I am worried about the aftereffects."
And the person who would be opposed to this would be the Octopus, Azul.
He prefers his angelfish to be unscratched unlike those brutes after all (Though he understands why they love seeing your fear-stricken expression, it truly has its own charm.) "You two! Stop playing around and go back to work if you have the time to bother them! ... Hey, are you alright?" Azul will check on you and tend to any bruises they leave after they are gone.
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put that chain down! Real talk here though? Both Kalim and Jamil are on the same flavour but they leave different aftertaste.
Now I know Kalim is such a sunshine baby that is soooo sooo, free of threat and won't even have the thought of hurting you for fun. But what if he has no other choice but to do this...? Now he doesn't take any form of pleasure from this but what I'm trying to say is that he is not below from hurting you indirectly.
Take it when he feels the need to chain you down, should he let the others do this dirty deed or should he do this himself? The idea of someone else hurting you makes him sick but so does the idea of him having to immobilize you!
"I'm really sorry but I just, have no choice! I'll make it up to you, name anything you want and I'll give it to you in a blink! Everything... but leaving me... then I will grant it to you like a magic lamp..."
In Jamil's case though he just resorted to this method should his paranoia reach a certain extent. What if you leave him even though he hasn't done anything much for you at all? Should he charm you with his UM or... should he just straight up immobilize you and lock you away in the dorm, away from privy eyes? Or maybe should he shamelessly ask for Kalim's assistance in sending you to Scalding Sands for the time being?
"Rest assured, Najma will be there for you."
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The Hunter, Rook. Now listen to me, no he doesn't find any pleasure in the same way the Tweels do. Take him as a hunter, only wounding you to keep you immobile and that's all, he'd prefer to not wound you at all to ensure your beauty unscratched like a taxidermized animal!
The people who would go against this would be Vil and Epel! Come on now, really? He'd rather inflict emotional and mental pain than this! How is he supposed to cover the bruises, let alone if it remains as a scar?
"Rook! What did I tell you about not leaving any mark on them? Can't you just ever listen?" "Aha, I'm so sorry~! It's just that they have been hopping around like a rabbit so I had no choice but to treat them as one."
As for Epel, he just doesn't see the charm in causing any pain to his dearest darling at all. He prefers seeing you smiling and laughing rather than crying. Oh gosh, these sick fucks are questionable!
"Even so, you shouldn't retort to this method! Oh no... it hurts so much, right...?"
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Do not touch Ortho in the wrong way but damn this murder bot is on the loose. He will most definitely be doing the dirty job here for Idia like dude, he will stun you right on the spot should his system detect any suspicious movements and signs of doing something dumb.
Idia on the other hand is pretty neutral about this. Yeah, comatose, knocked out cold. Cool. You shouldn't have done that, noob, can't you at least make a plan that will allow you to evade Ortho's sight of view? Not like the phone he gave you will not save him from this trouble though.
"You thought you could sneak out of an enemy base camp that easily? You gotta at least watch the walkthrough from start to finish, anyway, off we go... to the enemy's underground chamber."
He'd prefer things to be as solace as possible so I think he doesn't enjoy partaking in this trope with these sadistic bitches. (He's just a silly meow meow after all)
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Lilia has a kink in marking you with his fangs and it shows~ That, is on the playful note, what about the much darker note? Moments when the fistfight you two share turns into an uncontrollable fight that allows him to cut you with his nails and punch you right in your guts, hard, until you choke out.
"Ah~? Sorry, did I go too hard? I forgot that your body is now just as fragile as a stuffed doll!" He'll shrug it off playfully while relishing in your state for a moment before helping you ^^ (Ah, he misses those good' ol days so dearly!)
Malleus, Silver, and Sebek though? They are shaking their heads at Lilia but can't say anything about it.
Malleus sees this as a way to keep you still next to him, maybe by spraining your ankle or slamming your head so that you are knocked out.
Silver on the other hand does not lay a single finger on you with the intention of hurting you, at all! Cinnamon baby! huhuhu.
Sebek? After watching Lilia and Malleus, he deems this to be some sort of disciplinary action! He takes pride in it while secretly pushing away the guilt of hurting you and the fact that he was enchanted by the teary sight of you.
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Divider Credit: @edith-is-a-cat
I have favorites and it shows. (Lilia)
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dragonlands · 7 months
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There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.
"Izzy's death was pointless"
No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.
"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"
No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.
"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"
Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.
"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"
Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.
"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"
His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.
"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"
Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.
"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"
No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.
Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.
Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.
Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
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How would the yan batfam celebrate reader's birthday after they got them back?
Well, it can go a few ways, but I'll try to keep it short and simple for now!
First, the family will 100% fight over if they should throw a party now or actually wait until your birthday, because they definitely don't want to try and make up for all the one's they've missed, along with some other occasions that they absolutely want to celebrate with you.
It's a real mess, but what could one really expect from such a dysfunctional family? Though no matter what they settle on, it really depends on how long you've been with them.
If you've just 'gotten back' then it's probably something small, as they don't want to overwhelm you and want this to be another piece that eases you into your new way or life. Yet it definitely seems like some didn't get the memo as you are overflowed with gifts. You don't understand how they picked half of this stuff out, let alone why they bought it for you, but that's probably because they're guilt got to them and suddenly they had five times the amount of gifts they were originally going to get you. If the amount of gifts in the room pisses you off or you generally have a negative reaction to it, no one will let you go into the hall for a good portion of that day.
Besides that, you get some breakfast in bed, and maybe even lunch too if you didn't like the gifts- but expect a family dinner at the end of the day. They'll find ways to spend time with you, and most of the activities are either games that require multiple people, or the others will just... watch. Which may not have been so bad if you were in this particular situation.
Overall, while it is a little toned down they do still find ways to 'sneak' themselves into your birthday, and try to have fun all throughout the day. Though if you want to keep things more lowkey, then that's fine! But you'll still have to deal with them hanging around. You won't get a single moment to yourself.
If you've been 'staying' for a while, then they go all out and have the biggest celebration they can without any outside eyes peeking in. It may not be necessarily loud or anything but it's... a lot.
The moment you wake up (to which, you're most likely woken up by someone), your dragged out of bed and just about everyone is up and about like it's Christmas (and maybe it is, but I digress). Every meal of the day feels like some kind of feast, and they aren't trying to even hide the amount of gifts they've gotten you, which somehow all pertain to your interests one way or another. If anyone gets the same thing then you get to see a bit of a fight- so at least there's that, but unfortunately it's unlikely to last very long as everyone wants today to be a good day for you (and a great day for them).
Every activity/game is a family activity or deals with multiple players. They all take turns if there isn't enough for all of them to play with you all at once, but they work around it one way or another. If you want things to tone down, then you're either stuck watching a movie with everyone, or in a cuddle pile with most of the Batkids. If you couldn't get rid of them before- you absolutely cannot now. They make it near impossible to do so.
If you'd like to keep up your tradition with Alfred and bake with him, then you're more than welcome to!
If you 'just arrived' then you may be able to bake with Alfred in peace, minus the new observers that are a little too keen on watching you, and all too eager to taste test what you and Alfred end up making.
If you've been there for a while, then the family will try to turn the tradition from just you and Alfred, to you and the whole family. Even if it means turning the whole things into a game of some kind, or using other methods to get you to bake with them, they'll find a way to change it eventually... unless Alfred gets in the way of things. Though sometimes he may get sick and can't help you with the rest of the Batfam :[[
All in all, it's a mess! Who could've guessed? Ah, but really, it goes just about as well as you'd think. Very overwhelming and them justing to shove and further include themselves into your life by using your birthday to enhance that force. If you've just arrived, the force is lighter, and if not? It's heavier. Much, much heaver.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 5 months
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Deck the Halls 🎻
Bale!Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader
A/N: This is the ultimate crossover, Bale!Bruce and Christmas, what more could you want??? I don't know quite how I feel about it mainly because I wrote most of it at 3 am lmao. Love-hate relationship, I guess. I hope you like it, anyway!
~Fi 🐝
Fi's Christmas Market ☃️
Warnings: implied angst?? Mention of his parents' death (very briefly), so much fluff omg, starring Alfred, Selina, and Lucius, Bruce is obsessed with you <3
Word count: 3.6k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
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"A Gingerbread house contest?"
Bruce gave you a skeptical look as you explained your idea for the annual Wayne Yule Ball. You were sitting at the meeting table in the office of Wayne Enterprises, brain storming ideas to make this years Gala a little more interesting. The events were always quite boring, the only thing keeping your spirits up was the bar most of the time.
You'd occasionally hang around on the side lines with Alfred, people-watching Gothams wealth. This year had to be different. You were sick and tired of the fad and dragging evenings.
This was the Yule Ball, after all. The Manor would be decked in lights and ornaments, the lovely tunes of Christmas would echo through the halls and you'd actually have some fun for once.
Bruce would try to make them more bearable for you, inviting you to dance as much as he could, even if it earned him detesting looks. He wasn't a huge fan either, but it was his duty. He'd rather be curled up with you, feeling your warmth against his skin while doing your favorite festive activities.
Selina was seated next to you, twirling a pen between her fingers, looking like she was about to collapse from boredom. Alfred sat next to Bruce with a notepad, writing down any ideas that had come forth. Lucius was there too, of course, hoping to aid in any technical things.
"Yeah, why not? We need to do something interesting this year, and a making Gingerbread houses is a pretty classic activity, no?" You responded, shrugging slightly.
"I'll definitely come to the Ball if you pull through with that." Selina smirked. Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey? I mean, most of the people that attend aren't really ones to get their hands dirty."
"If I may, Master Bruce, I think it's a great idea." Alfred interrupted politely, making you smile. "I think it's important for the rich of Gotham to not lose touch with the average life. And, it'd be quite sweet, wouldn't it?"
Alfred grinned, proud of the pun he just made. You let put a small giggle while Selina and Lucius were smiling slightly. Bruce, on the other hand, sighed as his brows pulled together.
"Alright, so if we do this, who's going to be the judge?" He asked, finally caving in to your request.
"I knew you'd come around," you smiled, watching as a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, "I think it's pretty obvious. Alfred should judge the houses."
"Me? Miss, I'm flattered but I don't think I have the expertise to-"
"Nonesense, Alfie," Selina cut him off, "We've all seen what you can do in the kitchen. If anyone's going to judge anything, it should be you."
"I agree. He does make a mean Victoria Sponge." Luscius agreed, his reasoning strong enough to make Alfred ponder for a moment.
"It doesn't just have to be houses. We can just give them creative freedom, let them go at it." You suggested, earning nods of approval.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Selina mumbled, inhaling a sharp breath,"What if we make it a family event? Let them bring their kids. They'd probably be more open to the whole idea that way."
"Good thinking, Miss Kyle."
Bruce chewed on his lips as he thought. This would be very different than most years. His parents had started the tradition of a yearly Yule Ball, and he was afraid to make changes. But then he thought back to how his parents always tried to keep a somewhat humble life to be able to help the people in need more efficiently. Also, he could never say no to you.
"Okay. Why not. Even if they don't enjoy it, at least we'll have a good time." He smiled softly, looking at you. You almost beamed with excitment.
"We need a price too, right? What's the point of a contest without a price." Selina intervened. A silence fell over the room as everyone was thinking of what the price coule be.
"I say we give the winner an hour with Bruce's credit card and see how much damage they can do." You snorted, meaning it as a joke but when you weren't met with disagreement a surpirsed expression took over your face.
"Fine by me." Bruce shrugged. You forgot that he was a billionaire sometimes.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that but that just upped my determination by 100%." Selina grinned, making Bruce roll his eyes.
Bruce started talking to Lucius about the organizational aspects while you discreetly high fived Selina under the table. You'd talked about this idea before, your friend mostly finding it funny that the most esteemed people of Gotham would have to struggle with sprinkles and sticky icing.
She was quite impressed you pulled through, although that Bruce agreed wasn't a surprise to her. He'd do about anything you asked, which she sometimes used to her advantage.
"You truly have him wrapped around your finger, huh?" Selina mused, sending a sly smirk your way. You leaned back in your chair, inspecting the shimmering wedding band on your hand.
"Well, he wouldn't have put a ring on it if I hadn't." You grinned, making Selina shake her head with a chuckle.
"When do I need to be there to see Gotham get down and dirty?"
"December 25th, 8:00 pm, Wayne Manor."
"See ya then." The brunette gave you one last grin before taking her leave, claiming she had some 'business' to attend to. The so called 'business' would surely end up on the front page of the Gotham Gazette tomorrow morning. She was a great friend despite her passion for her illegal hobby. You couldn't really blame her, though. She'd grown up with nothing, and had to fight to survive.
You were the last one to complain if one of Gothams renowned business men mysteriously lost a couple of million dollars, which then appeared donated to a charity the next day. She'd never steal from you, or Bruce.
That's not to say she hadn't tried, but Selina did find that Martha's necklace suited you just a tad better than her. She had quite the soft spot for you, you weren't like the rest of the wealthy people she knew. You were honest, understanding and kind. Selina put a great amount of trust in you and she knew you'd never break it. If that meant having to put up with Bruce once in a while, so be it.
Alfred slipped into the seat next to you, Bruce and Luscius still discussing the guest list, when to send the invites, and to order all the necessary things for the contest.
"Truly a marvelous idea, Mrs. Wayne. He never dared to make any changes before you came along, you know?"
You turned you head towards him, a slight blush on your cheeks. Did you really have that much of an impact on him? To think that you were the one that made the Bruce Wayne soften and be more open to change made your heart swell with pride.
"Really? I thought he just never cared that much. For the Ball, I mean." You said, intrigued of what you were about to learn from Alfred about your beloved Husband.
"No, no, not at all. It was his favorite thing as a boy. What I'd do to see him happy like that again." The older man sighed, a melancholic tint in his eyes.
You smiled at the thought of Bruce being excited for Christmas. Just being a boy. You reckoned all of that changed after his parents' death. The warm and loving holiday was now left in gray dullness and the emptiness that he felt in his heart when he'd sit under the tree, all alone, yearning for a hug from his father and the gentle touch of his mothers lips on his cheek.
You were determined to fill that void, shower him in all your love until the gaping hole in his chest was fixed. Who knew if it was possible, but you were willing to give it your all.
"You will, I promise." You replied softly, gently placing your hand on his arm. Alfred gave you an appreciative smile, the sadness in his eyes wavering slightly. He softly padded your hand, resting it on it for a moment.
"You make him so happy already, though. I suppose I can't complain too much, can I?" He joked, making you laugh softly.
"I'm just loving him, that's all."
"That's all he needed." Alfred smiled softly.
Bruce glanced over to you, his heart pouding with pure love as he saw you laughing with Alfred. His two favorite people were getting along so well, it made unbridled joy bloom in his chest. You had changed his life, only for the better, you made him feel like a person again.
For years he'd been aimlessly wandering, hoping to find himself. He was lost in the dark, going through life pretending to be someone he wasn't. Or was he? He didn't know. But you were his guiding light, your gentle flicker lighting up his path. Your soft warmth getting him through many a cold night when the thoughts of self doubt and fear were gnawing at him.
All he needed was you pressed against his chest, your soft breathing like a sweet lullaby to him as you slept peacefully in his arms.
"Mister Wayne? Mister Wayne-" Lucius voice broke him out of his daydream, his back straightend and he cleared his throat, hoping no one caught him. You were still chatting on with Alfred, so you hadn't noticed, good. But when he looked over to Lucius, there was a knowing smirk on the man's face.
"Yes, Mr. Fox? Do you have the guest list ready?" Bruce questioned, fiddling with his fingers. He looked at Lucius expectantly, trying to hide his slight embarrassment.
"I don't blame you for staring. She fills the role of Mrs. Wayne perfectly." He answered, a gentle smile on his face. Bruce's shoulders immediately dropped, the tension fading away. He let out a small huff through his nose with a tight lipped smile.
"She does, doesn't she? It's like she was made for this. Made for me." He said quietly, the adoring look in his eyes as he admired you not being missed by the Inventor. Lucius placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"Why don't you spend the day together? I'll take care of everything." He said reassuringly.
Bruce's eyes widened slightly and he turned to face Lucius.
"Lucius-"
"No, I won't hear it. Go on, spend the day with her." He gave him chuckle before patting his back and gathering his things.
"We're done here, Mrs. Wayne. You can have your husband back." Lucius laughed, packing up the last of his documents. You giggled, which immediately set Bruce's heart aflame.
"How gracious of you, Mr. Fox." You teased, getting out of your chair, Alfred by your side.
"Let's go, my love. We have Christmas movies to watch and a dog to cuddle." You chirped, dragging him out of his chair.
All he could do was smile as he let himself be taken by you and wonder how he got this damn lucky.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You were now curled up on the couch, Bruce by your side, his arm draped around you. Your dog, Rudy, was snoozing on your lap as you scratched his head. The extra weight and warmth of your pup made it hard to keep your eyes open.
You were resting comfortably against Bruce, who traced gentle patterns on your arm as he was tentatively watching the TV. A smile tugged at your lips at Bruce's soft breaths, his strong chest falling and rising, lulling you to sleep. Your smile was cut off by a yawn. You lifted your hand from Rudy's head to cover your mouth, but he let out a whine, immediately nudging at your hand.
You chuckled groggily, trying to keep the sleep at bay so you could enjoy your moment with Bruce.
"'M sorry, buddy." You cooed, going back to petting your fur baby.
"You're tired, honey, I'll take over. Go to sleep." Bruce said softly in your ear, gently moving your hand and replacing it with his, making Rudy's tail wag slightly.
"S'your fault for being so warm and comfy and- you." You mumbled, letting your head fall against his shoulder.
"I mean, I can stop." He teased, taking his arm away from around you. You caught his wrist in a surprisingly tight grip.
"Do it and see what happens." You slurred, eyes still closed. Even in your sleepy state, you were still your feisty little self.
"Alright, I'd like to keep my arm, please." He laughed, wrapping his arm around you again, just a little tighter this time. You nuzzled closer to his side, making Rudy begrudgingly adjust his position as well.
"Are you excited for the Yule Ball?" You asked quietly, looking up at your husband as best as you could with sleep tugging at your limbs.
"I am. For the first time in a while, actually. Thanks to you." He replied with a soft smile, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose. A lopsided smile crept onto your face, and you stretched your neck a bit to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
"I love you." You mumbled before finally dozing off with a smile on your face.
"I love you too, honey." Bruce whispered gently, his lips pressed to the top of your head as he sunk into the couch.
He couldn't wait for the Ball. Something he loved so dearly that was tainted for him for many years was now coming back to him brighter than ever. All thanks to you, the lovely woman he chose to marry.
He'd marry you anew every single day if he could.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The day had finally come, and you were a nervous wreck. You really didn't want to mess this up. You had big shoes to fill; Martha Wayne was loved by Gotham, and now that you held the title of Mrs. Wayne, you didn't want to disappoint anyone.
Not the people of Gotham, not Martha, but most importantly, not him. You'd been running around like a headless chicken the entire day, double checking everything so nothing could go wrong.
The decorations were being set up, and you might've snapped at a poor worker for hanging one of the garlands a little too much to the right. You were stressed out of your mind, regretting ever suggesting this. Right now, you were checking if all the sheets of Gingerbread had arrived and if all the decorations were set up.
The gentle touch of Bruce's hand on your shoulder snapped you out of the frenzy in your head. He guided you to a quiet corner with a hand on the small of your back.
"Bruce, I have to get back to-"
He interrupted you with a firm kiss, cupping your cheeks.
"No. You're completely stressing yourself out, and we can't have that. I'll take care of everything. And now you need to take care of yourself. Take a bath, get ready, do whatever you need to do. Please, calm down. Everything will be perfect, I promise." He said it so softly you could feel all the anxiety and stress fall away.
You let out a deep breath as you leaned into his touch.
"Okay. Thank you." You sighed with a small smile.
"Good. You know very well that tiring you out is my job." He said lowly with a glint in his eyes. You huffed and playfully hit his arm.
"Go check on the sprinkles."
"Yes, Ma'am."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You did as he said, you took a bath to ease the tension in your muscles that had been building up throughout the day.
Now, you were sitting at your vanity, adding some final touches to your make-up. The guest would arrive soon, and you were glad the excitement took over the anxiety.
Bruce walked into your shared bedroom, fixing his cuffs.
"Are you almost ready?" He asked, not looking at you, still fiddling with his suit. You responded with a small 'Mhm!' and walked over to him, brushing some wrinkles out of your gown. When he did look at you, he visibly stopped in his tracks.
You were wearing a green velvet gown with lace accents, and he was completely enarmoured. When his gaze trailed upwards, he caught sight of his mothers necklace sitting around your neck. If you weren't already married, he'd would've proposed right now.
"You look stunning." He breathed out, hie pupils dilated. You chuckled softly, brushing your hand over the lapel of his jacket.
"Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself." You teased, earning a small smirk from him. His hands settled in your waist. Bruce hastily pulled you in for a passionate kiss.
The air was knocked from your lungs as his lips moved so perfectly against yours. You melted into his touch but caught yourself before you'd do something that'd make you two very late.
"Alright," you breathed heavily, steadying your hands on his chest, "that's enough, Lover boy. We have a Ball to host."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
All the guests had arrived and Bruce stepped into the center of the room, beginning his welcoming speech.
"Welcome, Everyone, I'm very glad you could join us here today for the annual Wayne Yule Ball. This is a tradition that my parents started that I wish to keep on as long as I can."
"This year will be a little different. Courtesy of my lovely wife, Mrs. Wayne," he looked in your direction and reached out his hand for you to take with a gentle smile, which you did without hesitation,"there will be a gingerbread house contest. I see you've brought your little ones and I hope that this will be a pleasant and memorable evening for us all." He ended his speech with a soft smile.
"Feel free to take as much times as you desire. Everything you need is provided, so all you need now is your imagination and creativity." You spoke up.
"Your delicious creations will be judged and the winner gets a nice reward. I hope you have a lovely time and a Merry Christmas!"
There was a small round of applause before old and young scrambled towards the tables decked with gingerbread, sprinkles and icing, to begin their gingerbread builds. You participated too, you'd teamed up with Selina, who had been nursing a flute of champagne until now.
Bruce and Lucius decided to indulge as well, already planning out their engineered masterpiece.
"Let's show 'em our claws." Selina smiled slyly. The lights made her dark blue dress embroidered with sparkling stars stand out. She looked very good this evening.
And Bruce might've paid for that dress... unknowingly.
"You got it, kitty." You replied with a smirk.
You were going the classic route. It would be a house, but more of a whimsical cottage type. Vines if icing were woven around the gingerbread walls, blooming into blankets of Ivy. The roof would be decked in sweet snow and delicate sugar flowers.
Selina couldn't help but add a tiny cat hidden at the back of the house. The atmosphere was delightful, laughter and chatter whisked through the room accompanied by the tunes of Christmas songs.
The decorations that adorned the walls and ceilings of the Manor dipped the room in a warm glow. You decided to glance over at Bruce and Lucius, to see what they'd come up with. When your gaze met their creation the piping bag of icing slipped from your hands and your jaw slacked.
"They built the goddamn batmobile." You said in disbelief, making your partner perk up.
She scoffed and went back to, now aggressively, pushing small sugar decorations into the icing.
"Show offs." Selina grumbled.
Bruce noticed your staring and shot you a toothy grin.
"A sweet ride, don't you think?"
You groaned at his terrible joke and shook your head.
"Unbelievable." You muttered, going back to perfecting your little house.
The chattered had died down as the judging began. Everyone watched in anticipation as Alfred made his way through room, inspecting each Gingerbread sculpture carefully. He made some small comments here and there, mainly on the ones the children had made.
In the end, a little girl and her sister won- they'd built, or at least tried to, a castle. Alfred thought it was very charming, and it reminded him of home, so naturally, he picked them as winners. They were overjoyed, jumping around excitedly, gushing it about it to their parents.
The girls earned a round of applause, and an arm slipped around your waist.
"A shame we didn't win." Bruce sighed playfully.
"I can't believe you built the batmobile. I expected a lot, but not that." You laughed, the lights reflecting off of you perfectly. Or at least that's what Bruce thought.
"But it was fun, don't you think? Thank you, again, for agreeing." You said softly. Bruce smiled at you, and gentle squeezed at your side.
"Anything for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next year." He kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as you watched the joy and holiday cheer fill the room.
He truly couldn't wait for next year, to deck the halls with you by his side.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
It didn't turn out as Christmas-y as I wanted it to, but I hope you enjoyed reading it nonetheless! <3
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ao3cassandraic · 10 months
Text
Kayfabe: A Good Omens meta
"Kayfabe," in wrestling, is the performance (including outside the wrestling ring) of whatever storyline is being woven around the wrestlers. Breaking kayfabe is Serious Business for a wrestler; the illusion is part of the event. If you ever wondered how John Cena could anchor an entire HBO miniseries brilliantly, kayfabe is a big part of the answer.
Because of their histories and how their respective Head Offices treat them, Crowley and Aziraphale approach their version of kayfabe -- their whole "I am an angel! You are a demon! We're hereditary enemies!" schtick, also their "we are good bad proper little footsoldiers, honest, Boss" schtick to their respective Head Offices -- very, very differently.
I promise there's a point to this. I PROMISE. But let me walk through it first.
Both of them know that one awkward question to Upstairs at the wrong moment and its Fallsville. Crowley, however, knows a couple of things that Aziraphale doesn't have to:
Punishment isn't just once; in some ways, the Fall is never over. Beelzebub or Hastur can throw you in the Dung Pits whenever, after all, or feed you to a Hellhound, or zap you like an Eric. Crowley's lot do not send rude notes. (s2: we do not know what happened to Crowley after Hell dragged him back at the end of the Resurrectionists 'sode, but I think it safe to say it was not great for Crowley. Litotes: your key to quality meta.)
Downstairs can and does check in -- or drag Crowley Downstairs for a chat and possibly a bit of idle torture -- whenever they feel like it. Downstairs seems pretty disorganized, especially its leadership, so I'd expect ad-hoc surprise inspections from them. Downstairs can invade Crowley's flat's TV, his Bentley's radio, and his very mind to perform those inspections. Crowley is never, ever safe from this. He can't relax. Ever.
Heaven, on the other hand, has 37 levels of scriveners and zero interest in Earth. Talk of "reprimands" and "miracle budgets" and Michael being a stickler and whatnot suggests a formal review process happening on a schedule, governed largely by the dreaded (but quite possibly fake-able or spinnable) "paperwork" rather than direct observation by Aziraphale's peers or superiors. Otherwise, Aziraphale is usually left to his own devices. Remember how startled he is when Gabriel shows up at the sushi restaurant in s1? This is unusual!
(We also know from Muriel that Heaven's records office doesn't seem to get consulted a whole lot. It's possible this just means that first-through-thirty-sixth-level scriveners handle everything, but in my experience of large bureaucracies, it's the folks at the bottom of the hierarchy who invariably get run off their feet first. Don't see why Heaven would be any different.)
Moreover, Heaven's punishments seem pretty light, on the whole? Our angel is so anxious and so sensitive to slights that I'm sure the reprimands aren't fun, and nobody likes a reduced miracle budget... but Heavenly "needs improvement" reviews don't seem to be a patch on the Dung Pits. The real threat is Falling, which is more than horrible enough to serve as deterrent; Heaven doesn't need to add torments.
Moreover moreover, Aziraphale is mostly aligned with his Head Office in a way that Crowley really, really isn't. I'm sure Aziraphale does a lot of his Heaven assignments with a song in his heart and a skip in his step -- it's mostly not smiting or the like. Crowley... probably spends a lot of his work time figuring out how to obey the letter of Hellish law while defying its spirit. Crowley's in far more danger of angering his bosses.
So Aziraphale doesn't have to keep up kayfabe a lot of the time, not even while interacting with Crowley. He can and does save it for the rare occasions Heaven takes a personal interest. Crowley, however, must keep up kayfabe always, whether Aziraphale's there or not. The courage it must have taken that snake to slither up the wall of Eden!
The way Crowley navigates his permanent need for kayfabe is twofold. First, his all but instinctive refusal to accept any positive word or compliment about himself or his actions from anyone ever -- "I'M NOT NICE!" If Hell were ever to hear someone characterizing Crowley that way... That's also why Crowley is a bit less exercised when Jimbriel calls him nice: "nobody'll ever believe you."
Second, a species of Orwellian doublethink: maintaining a running commentary in his head of how he's going to justify any unHellish actions to Hell, since he can never know exactly when he'll have to or what exactly they'll have a bug up their butt (sorry, Beez) about. Even high as a kite on laudanum in the Edinburgh cemetery, Crowley can explain his current justification (in a curiously sober voice -- is Crowley ever really high in that scene? or is it all kayfabe? I lean toward kayfabe) to Aziraphale, "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions."
We can see the kayfabe mismatch play out a few times, and it does appear that Aziraphale gets more concerned for Crowley's safety and more aware of Crowley's need for kayfabe post-Arrangement. That doesn't mean he always remembers, of course -- he wouldn't, he just doesn't have that same desperate need. And, of course, the ineffable walnuts do not communicate, as s2 went to some lengths to point out. I do think kayfabe is part of that -- it's hard for Crowley to be sincere when he's constantly doublethinking, and Aziraphale's off-and-on involvement with kayfabe (and all his other tendencies toward lying) disincline him to achieve or even learn about honest communication.
One s1 scene I went back and rewatched while thinking about this was the Globe scene, which contains Aziraphale's Saint-Peter-esque three-time denial of Crowley. I find it easy now to read that as Aziraphale going "oh crap do I need to drop back into kayfabe now? I didn't break kayfabe, did I?" and Crowley grinning, at least partly as reassurance. (Partly, of course, because Aziraphale is cute and funny even when kayfabing -- and partly because Aziraphale's sudden drop into kayfabe is Aziraphale trying to protect Crowley, of course Crowley's pleased by that.)
The wall pin, now that I think about it, also gains a little nuance from this. Crowley's fear-laced ire is genuine, but how many times must Aziraphale have heard Crowley snarl at him not to break kayfabe in this way? No surprise he's a little unimpressed. (With Crowley's demand. He's clearly very impressed by Crowley.)
In the s2 Job minisode, Aziraphale hilariously drops kayfabe (and that epic whole-body halo, loved that, great job FX folks) almost immediately. Crowley allows it, because Crowley is on firm ground -- Hell will be just fine with Crowley wrapping the angel in a Chuck-Jones-cartoon amount of scroll parchment and flipping him off.
When angel and demon collude on the con later, of course, they observe kayfabe, improv-style -- Crowley helps Aziraphale deal with the Job's-children situation without giving either of them away to the watching angel posse. Interestingly, it's Aziraphale who de-gecko-izes the kids. That gives Crowley an out, sort of: "look, the mansion collapse missed them because they were in the cellar, I turned them into geckos, totally Hellish thing to do, they'd never survive in the wild, but then this bloody interfering angel went and changed them back!"
And how does Crowley console a distraught angel who thinks he's about to be dragged to Hell? Crowley explains kayfabe in the fewest and clearest words possible. "Well, yeah, you did, but... I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you?"
So yeah. That's kayfabe for the Ineffable Walnuts.
But I promised there was a point to this, didn't I? Yes, I have a point.
My point is...
my POINT is...
my point IS...
(not dolphins, not this time)
My point is, how much of s2's Final Fifteen Minutes is kayfabe?
That's my point.
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cursedlovesstuff · 8 days
Text
Fixing Us. Part 1.
Y/N found herself stuck in a relentless routine.
Each passing day seemed to blur into the next, a disheartening repetition of Nat's absence and Y/N's solitary dinners.
As the hours ticked by, Y/N couldn't shake the gnawing suspicion that Nat's late nights were more than just work obligations.
Despite her longing for connection, Y/N's attempts to bridge the growing chasm between her and Nat fell on deaf ears.
The once vibrant bond they shared now felt like a distant memory, leaving Y/N feeling adrift in a sea of loneliness.
Determined to reclaim her sense of self-worth, Y/N went out on a journey of self-discovery.
Early morning jogs and a part-time job designing clothes provided a temporary distraction, but it was the tattoos that became her solace.
Venturing out with friends offered a fleeting escape from the monotony of her daily life.
Tonight was one of these nights where Y/N met Carol.
There was something familiar about her, a warmth that drew Y/N in like a moth to a flame.
Y/N was sitting at the bar watching others dance while stirring her drink with her straw.
"Do you usually come to bars just to watch others dance?" a voice says, making Y/N look up, shaking her head.
"I thought this was a lounge," Y/N says, smiling a bit.
"It's both," Carol says, putting her hand out for Y/N to shake while saying her name.
"Carol."
Y/N looks at Carol's hand before shaking it, saying, "Y/N."
"It's nice to meet you again, Y/N."
"Likewise."
The pair had met before a few times at some old work events and ran into each other a few weeks ago at this same lounge.
"I don't want to sound rude, but you used to work at SHIELD, right?" Carol asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.
Y/N nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I did. But I left a few years ago," she replied, her voice tinged with regret.
"Why did you leave?"
"I wanted to start a new chapter of my life, and it just wasn't the right fit anymore."
Carol's gaze lingered on Y/N, a silent understanding passing between them. "I can imagine it must have been a difficult decision," she remarked, her tone sympathetic.
Y/N shrugged, a pang of longing tugging at her heart. "It was. But sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the ones you love, even if they aren't willing to do the same for you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Carol nodded, understanding. As it got a bit quiet, Y/N said, "So what brings the great Captain Marvel here?"
"So you do know who I am," Carol replied, amused.
"Maybe."
"How come you never spoke?"
"I was shy and newlywed. My main focus was on work and getting home to my wife. I didn't have time back then."
"Wife, huh?"
"Natasha," Y/N says, taking a sip of her drink.
"Nat's married?" Carol asks, a bit shocked.
"Surprisingly yes, but she seems to forget that a lot."
"Just to be clear, you mean Romanoff, right? And you're still married?" Carol questions.
"Four years," Y/N says, halfway flashing her ring before saying, "probably not for much longer anyway."
Carol notices Y/N's mood change before asking Y/N if she would like to dance. Y/N is hesitant before she says yes, gently grasping the hand Carol put out for her to grab as she pulled her to the dance floor.
As carol pulled y/n through the crowd of sweety bodys they found themselves in the middle of the dance floor.
"Do you know this song?" Carol asks to which y/n shakes her head no.
"Iv never heard it"
"Good just let your body move to the beat follow me".
There wasn't any rush or anything; the two were just having fun like only friends. Carol even spun Y/N a few times. The time seemed to fly by; what only felt like an hour of dancing turned out to be three as the two made their way back to the bar to get some water. They arrived at the same time as Nat.
"Y/N," Nat asks, surprised to see her wife.
"Hi, Nat," Y/N replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Nat's gaze flickered between Y/N and Carol, a hint of jealousy flashing in her eyes before she turned her attention back to Y/N. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, though her heart raced with apprehension. "Just out for a drink with friends," she replied, her eyes darting between Nat and Carol.
"Where are your friends?" Nat asked, slightly looking around.
"Lilly went home, and Esther is still dancing, so I'm with my new friend Carol," Y/N answered back.
"I didn't know you were friends with Carol," Nat said.
"You don't know all my friends," Y/N responded.
Nat didn't take Y/N's nonchalant yet sassy tone lightly.
"Then why are you at a bar you hate bars and clubs"
"Its also a lounge" y/n says.
"Its both"carol says making y/n smile as she turned her head to look at carol. Nat noticed this and she didn't like it.
As she eyed carol she gently grabbed Y/N's cup out of her hand, sitting it down, and grabbing Y/N's hand before looking at Carol.
"Excuse me; I think it's time my wife and I head home."
Before Y/N or Carol could say anything, Nat practically dragged Y/N to the front door, only being able to give Carol an apologetic look as she and Nat made it to the front of the bar but stopped at a table.
"Sorry I have to leave early,theres something y/n and i need to discuss"
As the team looks at Y/N, saying their hi's.
"You look beautiful, Lady Y/N," Thor says, making Y/N smile a bit while saying thank you
"Are you sure you don't want to stay drinks are on me" tony says as everyone at the table cheers.
"Yeah you guys should totally stay"carol says, which makes Nat only drag Y/N along further out of the bar after saying they couldnt towards the car.
Halfway there, Y/N finally gets out of Nat's grip.
"What is wrong with you, Nat, dragging me out of the bar like a psychopath?"
"What is wrong with Y/N being out this late at night by yourself?"
"I wasn't by myself."
"You know what I mean; I'm taking you home. End of discussion," Nat says, raising her voice a bit.
"No," Y/N says finally putting her foot down.
"What did you just say?" Nat asks.
"I said no," Y/N said before saying, "I'm going to go back into that bar and order me another shot and then another, and I'm going to have fun".
"You can have fun tomorrow when its bright outside and there are less drunk people there"
"I can protect myself natasha"
"Can you? Can you really because its been four years since you were an agent and had any type of training"
"Yeah and whos fault is that because it's not mine"
"What"
"You heard me your Your the reason that i quit being an agent your the reason why i havent trained in four years"
"because you got hurt on a mission,due to not being able to tell friend from foe"nat says making y/n scoff.
"Im perfectly capable from telling friends from foe"
"Then can you tell if carol your friend or just someone who wants to sleep with you"nat says without thinking making y/n feel hurt.
"What i can tell is that your being a dick,just because you have one doesn't mean you have to be one"
Y/n says walking backwards towards the bar saying"You can go home by yourself."y/n says turning around and walking towards the bar.
Its not long after she hears nat say" I'm going home, you're coming with me."
Before y/n knew it she was lifted off of her feet and thrown over someone's shoulder,nats shoulder.
Y/N truly forgot how strong nat was well...is.
"Put me down natasha"
Y/n says smacking nats back trying to get her to let go,but nat dosen't respond to it.
So y/n smacks nats back and butt harder in response nat hit y/n's butt hard enough to make her yelp and jump.
Nat tightens her grip so that she doesn't drop y/n,but there is no doubt that it will leave a mark in the morning.
"That isn't very nice is it?"nat asks but y/n doesn't respond she only continues to try and get out of nats grip.
Eventually y/n gives up realizing there is nothing she can do to get nat to let go.
Nat carries Y/N to the car, gently putting her down in the front seat, buckling her seat belt.
Before slamming the front door and walking around and getting in and closing the door.
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markscherz · 10 months
Note
This might be a weird question but I can't think of a better person to ask! My nibling recently came out as non-binary and wants to change their name, but they're struggling to find something they are happy with.
They were given a feminine name at birth and are currently using a masculine name, but aren't happy with either of them. Every human name that's suggested to them is either too masc, too femme, or has poor associations. However, they love frogs, so I wondered if that might be a solution.
I've tried to find frog names that might work as a human name, but so far I'm not having much luck. It's not allowed to start with R or J, and apparently it's not allowed to have an X in it because nibling thinks they're "not cool enough" to carry that off (I've tried explaining that they're wrong, but 16 year olds are very sensitive).
If this isn't too weird a question, can you think of any frog or toad names that might be manageable as human names? We live in the UK for reference
So many thanks for even reading this giant info dump 💕
Wow this is only the second time I have gotten to help find a name for a human. What an honour.
Okay firstly, sounds 100% like your nibling is cool enough to use an X (despite my current negative emotions associated with the letter due to the Elongated Muskrat), and there are some *amazing* names out there with X's in, so they should at least consider them. Scinax and Ixalus for instance are great. Ixalus has a fun history: originally it was coined as a replacement name for Orchestes, which wasn't available because there was already a beetle genus called Orchestes. But then it turned out that Ixalus was *also* not available, because the world's most beautiful antelope, the bongo, was already called Ixalus. Only, the bongo had already been called Tragelaphus. So now Ixalus isn't the name used for *any* animal. Ixalus is Greek, meaning 'bounding, springing, spry'. Also there are numerous other frog genera that use the ending -ixalus, such as Heterixalus, Micrixalus, etc.
But, taking the lack of X seriously, here are some other alternatives. I will avoid names that are derived from other people's names, and focus on names that have a neutral ring to my ear, and are also euphonious (nice to say or hear) and fewer than four syllables. I am also only considering genus names, because there are too many species names to choose from:
Acris — meaning sharp, sour, bitter, pungent, sharp, keen, acute, energetic, eager, etc. Technically this is the feminine version of the adjective; the neuter version is Acre, but I do not think anyone would read 'Acris' and immediately think either gender. It is supposed to be pronounced with a long a, as in 'hard', but a lot of people pronounce it with a hard a as in 'ace'. This name is most familiar to Americans, because Acris are cricket frogs, widespread in the US.
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[Acris crepitans, src]
Mantis — of course, the genus Mantis was coined by Linnaeus in 1758, and so it is unambiguous that this is not a frog name. However, it is very often used as part of frog taxonomic names, such as Chiromantis, Boehmantis, Guibemantis, Gephyromantis, Phlyctimantis etc. Mantis is Greek (μάντης), and means oracle, prophet, soothsayer, seer, clairvoyant, or fortune teller. The name has the feminine gender in its language of origin, but that has no bearing on its use, which, barring the character in the Marvel movies, does not seem particularly gendered to me.
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[Pristimantis cruentus, src]
Dasypops — simply a delightful name, but probably not neutral enough. I have not been able to figure out what the etymology is; it might be a play on Dasypus, the Greek word meaning 'rough-footed', which is a genus of armadillos. The frog is also spectacular, but there are no photos I can legally share on tumblr.
Kaloula — a euphonic name with an unclear meaning. Very round frogs. I love them.
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[Kaloula pulchra, src]
Adelotus — means 'unseen'. These are 'tusked frogs'. Males have crazy extensions of lower jaw bones, and they fight with them.
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[Adelotus brevis, src]
Taruga — a Sanskrit name meaning 'tree climber'. I fucking love this name, and the frogs are just *chef's kiss* POINTY, and have really committed to bold colours.
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[Taruga eques, src]
EDIT: I have been informed that taruga means ‘blockhead’ or ‘numb skull’ in Spanish, so it might not be the best choice. Sorry!
If the nibling would like to check out a list of genera themselves, there is a tolerably complete list here.
I hope this helps!
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