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waynes-multiverse · 6 months

Note

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

#dirty drabbles #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester reader inser #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic

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griffonsgrove · 8 months

Note

Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD

General Dating Headcanons | Vox

a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

wordcount: 1299

cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.

(PLATONIC):

Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.

However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.

When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday.

You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??

You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.

You didn't care too much for the latter.

This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s.

You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.

You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.

One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??

He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.

He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.

He def goes through your search history.

He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.

You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.

You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.

But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.

(ROMANTIC):

Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.

Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.

That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.

Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.

He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.

Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.

CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.

Insecure much?

Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.

Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.

You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.

You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked.

Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.

Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.

Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?

He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.

He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.

He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.

He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.

And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.

If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)

The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.

#hazbinhotel #hazbinhotelxreader #xreader #gender neutral reader #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin x reader #headcanons #dating headcanons #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin

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star-girl69 · 9 months

Text

In A Good Way

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)

a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

In A Good Way - Faye Webster

warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.

You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.

She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.

“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.

“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”

You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.

Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.

You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.

“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”

You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”

Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.

“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.

“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.

“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”

“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”

Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.

You smile.

You see her eyes soften.

She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.

Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.

On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.

You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.

You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.

Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.

“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”

“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.

“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”

“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”

“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Percy chuckles a bit.

“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.

“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.

“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.

“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta-”

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”

Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.

“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”

“Maybe,” Luke concedes.

“Great. Where do we start?”

You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”

—-

You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.

You sit down next to her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.

“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.

“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”

She hums.

“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”

She shoots you a bored look.

“Don’t say horrible things like that.”

You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Oh, I know.”

—-

“What happened to you?”

You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.

“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”

You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.

“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.

“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.

“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”

She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.

“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”

“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”

“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.

—-

Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.

You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.

You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.

After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.

Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.

“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”

You know these rules by heart.

Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.

She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.

“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”

You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.

Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.

“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.

The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.

Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.

“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.

Capture the flag games are taken seriously.

She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.

“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.

“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.

She smiles, a full toothy grin.

“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”

Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.

You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.

“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”

She just smiles.

—-

One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.

The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.

“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.

“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.

Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.

“Hi, Luke,” you smile.

He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.

“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”

Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.

You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”

You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.

“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.

As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.

“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.

Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”

The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.

“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.

He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.

Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.

It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.

They grab the flag and run for the beach.

The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.

“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.

“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.

Matty helps you up.

“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”

“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”

Matty claps your shoulder.

“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”

And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…

“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.

—-

The scream scares you.

All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.

“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”

“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.

“Clar- wait, Y/N!”

But you’re already long gone.

—-

You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.

“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”

You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.

You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.

“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.

“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.

You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?

“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”

You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.

You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.

“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”

She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.

“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.

—-

You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.

She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.

She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.

You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”

She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.

“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.

You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.

“Oh, you can.”

“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.

“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”

She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.

“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”

You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”

She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.

“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.

You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.

“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”

“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”

Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.

She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.

“He broke it,” she whispers.

“Broke what?”

She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.

“He broke my spear.”

“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.

“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”

You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.

Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.

Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.

And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.

Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.

If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.

—-

Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.

She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.

When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.

It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.

“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”

“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.

“C’mon, baby, who?”

“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”

“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.

You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.

“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.

“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”

Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.

“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”

You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.

When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.

—-

clarisse, about to beat up percy

y/n: oh no no no no you don’t

clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍

—-

y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles

clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE

—-

y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke

—-

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo x you

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 5 days

Note

In response to the Mile High Job post, I hate that Parker implies that poor flight attendant slept her way to a promotion/better shift. Her day is super weird but her cat is fine and her life is saved. That rumor, however, might stick and that didn't really feel like Leverage to me.

Agreed!

The thing with Leverage is that it's a show from the late 2000s; it feels contemporary, but actually it is a bit dated. And, like all shows, it had some problematic elements, which get a bit more Obviously Problematic as time goes by (I am just waiting for someone to write a lengthy call-out post in 5 years' time and for the Discourse to start.) For example, Tumblr loves to declare that Leverage has a "canon" throuple, but if anyone read that and then watched the show they would be profoundly disappointed - while it's a fantastic ship with a great many shippy instances, Elliot has a lot of onscreen No Homo moments, and frequently is shown sleeping with random women (I personally read him as aromantic). Similarly, there are two big relationships in that show: Nate/Sophie, and Parker/Hardison. And we all wax lyrical about the brilliance of Parker/Hardison and how healthy it is, and for good reason; but we gloss over how unbearably "I hate my wife/father I cannot click the book" Boomer humour Nate/Sophie is.

(He literally calls her a shrew in one episode. She throws a tantrum and sulks if he doesn't remember the exact details of how/where they met. She's stereotypically 'romantic' and he's stereotypically 'cynical' and she has to Save Him From Himself, and he self-deprecatingly says he should just know when to stop arguing because she's always right. Like... it is a grubby and uncomfortable dynamic; but, it's also aimed at a different segment of the audience that is older than me, and that's okay, actually. It just means I don't much care for the ship myself.)

Anyway, this is one other such instance. Clearly someone in the writers' room thought that was a funny joke, and not enough people disagreed, and so in it went. What's nice is that Sandi McCree, who plays the other flight attendant that stays on the plane, actually kind of saves that joke for me with her performance. When Parker first boards and declares that her co-worker is not coming in, McCree looks disgruntled at the sudden change to her staff list when she wasn't informed; she's annoyed at management. Then Parker makes the sleeping-with-pilots comment, and McCree looks disgusted and furious -

An expression she then pulls at Parker every time she sees her for the rest of the episode, even when Parker is technically not doing anything particularly weird. It's not necessarily intentional on McCree's part (Parker IS very weird in this episode, so it very much can be a response to that), but to me it means you can read it as "This woman is absolutely furious at the lateral sexism of this white girl because We Love And Support Each Other On This Plane." So, for me, between that and the aforementioned revelations of the day (the plane was brought down by the domestic terrorists of a Fortune 500 company, but saved by... a few unexplained Official People who snuck aboard??? And the other flight attendant was made to miss the plane after all under mysterious circumstances and was not promoted??? What???), I don't think Sandi McCree's character wouldn't put those pieces together.

#asks #leverage

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pippin-katz · 1 month

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Random Satisfying & Clever Moments Of Audio From Dead Boy Detectives - Part 1

There's a few moments in DBD that utilize audio really well, or use sounds that always stick out to me while watching, and these are some of those moments!

I was going to make this a list post, but then I remembered that tumblr only lets you put one video in each post, and I want to include clips of the sounds I'm talking about. So multi-part series it is!

Ep. 3 - The Case of the Devlin House: Charles' pleading in the background of the first two run-throughs of the Devlin murders.

It's very easy to miss the first few times through, especially if you're watching it through a TV or a device without headphones, but underneath the screaming of the girls, there's an echoing audio of Charles begging his dad to stop hitting him from the flashback we see in the next episode.

It's a super clever touch that probably went unnoticed by the average viewer, but they included it regardless. I love when thought, care, and effort is put into every part of a piece of media simply for the sake of making it, and making it well. This doesn't feel added in for the audience, but because the sound designers just felt it worked.

And if people pick up on it? That's an added bonus!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

(ko-fi)

#dead boy detectives #rambles: dead boy detectives #the case of the devlin house #charles rowland #jayden revri

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mclennonlgbt · 6 months

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(JUST LIKE) STARTING OVER WAS DEFINITELY FOR PAUL – a compilation

A meaningful wordplay As you know, John attached great importance to the lyrics of his songs. He liked to smuggle in word games and hidden meanings. Let's look at a fragment of the lyrics of "(Just Like) Starting Over". It's time to spread our wings and fly Wings was Paul's band in the 1970s.

Don't let another day go by

"Another Day" is a song by Paul and Linda that was released as the A-side of a non-album single in February 1971. It was Paul's debut single, following the Beatles break-up in 1970. (Sidenote: giving credits to both himself and Linda, Paul broke up the Lennon-McCartney partnership, angering Allen Klein).

my love

"My Love" is a 1973 song by Wings. The single was viewed as Wings' first significant success.

2. The demos

In the first demo, John uses the word "walrus":

Everyday we used to make it love so why can’t we be making love – it’s easy. The time has come, the walrus said, for you and me to stay in bed again, it’ll be just like starting over

The walrus is a famous motif from Beatles songs. In the song "I Am The Walrus" (1967) John declares that he is the titular walrus, a year later in "Glass Onion" he stated: „And here’s another clue to you all – the walrus was Paul”. In "God" (1970) John sings: "I was the walrus." In an interview from 1969 or 1970, George jokes: „And if you are listening, I am the walrus too”. Regardless of which Beatles was the walrus, John is for sure giving us an interesting clue here.

As for „in bed”:

Here's another fascinating demo... This requires no comment. It's just that John suddenly referred to "Why Don't We Do it In the Road", a song by Paul from the Beatles era.

EDIT:

The whole fragment is:

Just take your clothes off honey, and stick your nose in money.. why don’t we… do it in the road?! (Laughs) A little hotel where we used to screw A little place down in Montauk Just you, me, the cook and the servants too

As @i-am-the-oyster pointed out (the screen is theirs) - it's a 17 minute drive from Paul's house in the Hamptons to Montauk Motel.

3. John explaining who the song is for

„I’m not aiming, I am not aiming at 16 year olds. If they can dig it, please dig it. But when I was singing and writing this and working with her, I was visualizing all the people of my age group from the 60s. Being in their 30s and 40s now, just like me, and having wives and children and having gone through everything together, I am singing to them! I hope the young kids like it as well, but I’m really talking to the people that grew up with me and saying: „Here I am now, how are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the 70s a drag? You know, here we are, let’s try and make the 80s good, you know, because it’s still up to us to make what we can of it. It’s not out of our control”. I still believe in love, peace. I still believe in positive thinking when I can do it. I’m not always positive but when I am, I try and project it”.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqxPx2Tvf6A

Let’s point out that the song which convinced John to come out of retirement was „Coming up” by Paul. You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

(…)

You want some peace and understanding So everybody can be free I know that we can get together We can make it, stick with me

BONUS (this is not evidence or premise, but maybe Paul understood that the song was addressed to him): Paul's reaction to the song after John's death.

„…Time passed. Paul locked the door of his home studio and played (Just Like) Starting Over, the first single from Double Fantasy. Top volume. For days”.

- Christopher Sandford, „McCartney”

EDIT:

(it's also @i-am-the-oyster's reveal): One Sweet Dream podcast did an interview where May Pang agreed with the host (JL)SO was for Paul and emphasised that it wasn't about Yoko -- it's a patrons-only episode so I can't link it, but it's April 2023, around the 1h29 mark).

I would take it with a grain of salt, though, because May (for valid reasons) dislikes Yoko.

As @paul-mccartney-official noticed, the stripped down mix of this song begins with:

When they were teenagers, John and Paul identified with their musical idols: John was Buddy Holly and Paul was Little Richard or Elvis.

This is Lennon talking about his and McCartney's meeting at Village Woolton fete:

It is possible that John refers to his youthful years in this dedication. However, there is also an option that he mentioned his former idols, because "(Just like) starting over" musically refers to the 1950s. It depends on you what you believe in.

#mclennon #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon tinted song analysis #double fantasy

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otterlis · 7 months

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♡ the proudest moment for me is telling others that you are my son ♡

♡ papamin!au my beloved

♡ genre: pure fluff

♡ lenght: ~0,6K

Kento didn't really plan to take a nap.

He was sitting in front of the TV, Yuuji curled up against his side as they watched Gravity Falls - well, Yuuji watched it. It was their afternoon tradition. They came back home, did the homework, watched some TV before they got hungry and then they cooked dinner together.

Today wasn’t much different, but after a tiring day at work Kento was absolutely exhausted. Too many pointless meetings and dumb arguments with his coworkers resulted in a throbbing headache and red, tired eyes. Relaxing against the soft pillows, Kento thought it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes for a moment and rest. He wouldn’t fall asleep, right? Naps weren’t really his thing.

Then, as soon as the first episode of the show started, he just straight up passed out.

To him, it felt like a few seconds. A longer blink, if you will. That’s why he was so confused when he shifted and suddenly he couldn’t feel Yuuji’s tiny body pressed against his side. His eyes shot open and he sat straight up as the panic settled in.

‘Yuuji?’, he called out, looking around the room. It was already dark and he could barely make out anything. As he turned around on the couch, Kento noticed soft light pouring out through the kitchen door, accompanied by a few soft grunts of annoyance. He quickly made his way over, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw the scene before him.

Yuuji was standing on top of the kitchen chair, Kento’s big apron hanging around his tiny body, the straps tangled around his legs. His face was concentrated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, as he tried hard to slice the cucumber that stubbornly rolled away from him with every attempt.

At least he’s using the child-friendly knife, Kento thought with relief. He quietly stepped inside of the kitchen, trying not to startle the boy.

‘What are you doing, Yuuji?’, he asked.

‘Oh, Nanamin!’, Yuuji exclaimed happily, almost falling off the chair as he tried to turn around with the apron tangled between his legs. Luckily, Kento had quick reflexes. This wasn’t the first time this happened, either. ‘I’m making us dinner!’

‘Hm?’, Kento hummed, looking away from the boy he held in his arms and back at the counter. Indeed, there were two plates prepared - there was a ham sandwich, a cheese stick and a few cherry tomatoes on both of them, but coincidentally the one on the right had also a few candies hidden behind the food.

‘I wanted some cucumber too, but it kept rolling away!’, Yuuji added, crossing his arms with frustration. Kento couldn’t help but smile, a warm, cozy feeling spreading across his chest.

‘You did great’, he praised the boy, setting him back up on the chair. He grabbed the rowdy cucumber and set it back on the cutting board, his other hand wrapping around Yuuji's wrist to guide his movements and cut up the vegetable. They boy cheered as they finally defeated the green stick of doom and placed a few slices on each of the plates.

‘Let’s go eat in the living room!’, Yuuji exclaimed, climbing down the chair and slipping out of the apron. He grabbed his plate and quickly run out of the kitchen, trying to cover up the sweets with his tiny hand. Kento chuckled as he picked up his own dinner, turning off the light and following the boy with a smile still etched on his face.

Sure. This one time Kento could pretend he didn’t see any candies on Yuuji’s plate.

It is not flesh and blood, but the heart which makes us fathers and sons — Johann Freidrich von Schiller

ellis jjk fanfic debut?????

inspired by a lovely prompt by @dahldahlbills ♡

#jjk #jjk fanfic #papamin #papamin au #nanami kento #itadori yuuji #jjk fluff #ellis writes #it's short and silly but I wanted to share it anyway 🥰

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unoislazy · 9 months

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BES College Au Headcanons

Characters included: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo, Akemi, Madame Kaji

There are some Mizu x Reader hints shoved in here

A/N: I’m just gonna stop saying what I plan to write next cause every time I do I suddenly either can’t write anymore or something ruins my plans entirely

Also there was an ask that went with this but It got lost in my inbox so I’m sorry to whoever asked but here you go!

Cutie Patootie

————————————————————

Mizu In College

-mizu barely does her homework

-why write things when train?

-she practically lives at the gym

-just cause it’s modern doesn’t mean she has to stop training

-you’d meet her through class

-you had to sit next to her and she was incredibly intimidating at first

-eventually, thanks to certain professors incessant need to give group work, you had to talk to her and realized she’s not as scary as she first seemed

-she’s not a huge party goer

-the one and only time she’d go to a party is because you invited her to go with you after you were invited by Taigen

-Taigen would essentially be a frat boy

-I know you saw how he was with those women who WERENT AKEMI in the first episode

-mizu wouldn’t be able to stand him

-despite not sticking around you the entire time Mizu would literally watch you like a hawk

-she doesn’t have many friends so she doesn’t really have any other reason to be there

-she’s just being a “good friend”

-she’s not a huge drinker either, but if she gets bored she’d take a few sips

-then a few more

-and maybe just a few more

-Taigen would invite you to a party and probably try and hit on you despite it being well known that him and akemi are together

-mizu, of course would’ve seen this, and swooped in no matter how far past tipsy she might’ve been

-she’s good at faking being sober

-100% would “fake” being your partner if it meant getting people to leave you alone

-Mizu is often still seen as a guy but given the time period I’d honestly think she’d go by any pronouns

-I don’t think she would necessarily care if people use he/him for her, but I think she’d prefer she/her

How they get food

-Ringo would complain about dining hall food, but in a very constructive way

-he’d stand in the hall talking at the lunch people (they wouldn’t be listening) about how to improve the meals

-he’d have to be dragged out before he’d talk their ears off

-mizu literally could care less, food is food, she doesn’t eat much anyways

-akemi door dashes, with the money she has? She can afford it

-Taigen probably leeches off akemi

Work Habits

-Mizu’s a HEAVY procrastinator

-Akemi does her work and often gets very good grades

-she has to make her dad proud

-Ringo studies but he gets lost VERY easily

-Taigen does his work but, much like Mizu, he practically lives at the gym so sometimes some things slide under his radar and affect his grade

-he’s scramble to make it up last minute and somehow still get credit

Professor Kaji?

-Madame Kaji as a professor is a funny thought to me

-she wouldn’t be, if anything she’d just work at a club considering that would’ve probably have been the modern day equivalent to a tea house such as hers

-but if she was she would’ve been super strict

-especially on the students who couldn’t give two shits about her class and make it obvious

-she’s have a very rigorous course

-but if she saw a student failing who she knew was actively trying, she’d lighten up a bit and offer actual help (unlike almost every real life professor ever)

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erospandemos · 10 months

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Winter's mission

Aespa Winter x Reader

Winter finds your secret diary and most importantly, your secret bucket list. Upon the discovery, she decides to fulfil every possible desire. The problem, however, is that every aspiration revolves around Winter herself.

Minjeong and you agreed to do a marathon to watch the whole drama you had both been saving up to watch. Your friend came to your house right before lunch so you could start eating with the first episode. It was just like the other times: she promised she wouldn’t get too invested and after two episodes she’d start screaming from frustration when the main leads were this close to kissing but backed away. You’d be laughing and she’d be yelling at you because it was a serious matter.

In the late afternoon, Minjeong got hungry. She begged you to get her favorite snack, the pepero sticks. You bought them two weeks ago and put them somewhere in your kitchen but didn’t remember at all. Still, your friend wanted one thing and one thing only. You tried to refuse but when she showed you her googly eyes and puffed her cheeks, you gave in. She was just too cute.

So you stood up and reluctantly made your way to the kitchen.

However, you made a big mistake by leaving the room without checking the stuff on your table, most notably your diary. Minjeong saw it clearly, the weathered journal peeking out from under a pile of books on the bedside table. She knew it wasn’t a notebook because she’d been your friend long enough to have memorized all your preferences and you were too cheap to buy such a nice diary.

Curiosity piqued, she hesitated for a moment to think if she should do it or not. She chewed her lower lip, with a light sense of guilt. You were gone to find some hidden and forgotten snack, so it should have been long enough—she had enough time. The more she waited, the more dangerous it was.

Minjeong made up her mind. She lifted the books and took out the notebook. She sat cross-legged on your bed, ready to reveal your secrets. As she contemplated opening it, a rush of adrenaline hit her veins, causing her heart to quicken and her muscles to tense up. She hasn’t even read a single letter yet but sweat was already dripping down her back.

“I probably shouldn't be doing this, but... what's the harm?” she whispered to herself, sighing deeply. “Okay, just a peek. It won’t hurt anyone.”

Minjeong took one last deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she started to open the diary. The creak of the leather seemed to echo in the room, she was alone. She started reading the entries, a mix of doodles, random thoughts, and personal reflections.

Some of the pages only had silly ramblings like how you noticed a game’s sale too late and had to pay 5 dollars more. Minejong giggled lightly but the adrenaline was still there. Her breathing became shallow, her gaze scanning the words on the page. As she flipped through the pages, she stumbled upon an entry that caught her off guard.

She raised her eyebrow as she started reading it:

SATURDAY 21 OCTOBER, 2023 I’m pretty sure Minjeong is playing with my heart. She’s been acting a lot more touchy lately. She was hugging my arm, hugging me and constantly touching me. She hugged me before as well since we’re friends but it just feels different these days. It’s probably because I’m a boy and she’s a girl. Even if we’ve been friends for a long time, she’s too cute for me to ignore. I think I like her. My heart beats faster when she’s around. I get nervous and fidgety. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s quite weird.

Winter's cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and excitement. Her curiosity took over her, she had to know. She had to know more.

TUESDAY 7 NOVEMBER, 2023 I almost had a heart attack when I saw Minjeong with someone else. They were acting so friendly and I just felt my heart shrink. I’m not attractive compared to them. Maybe I should go to the gym. But that wouldn’t change my face, would it? Dear Diary, I really really like her.

“Wait, this is all about me?” Minjeong whispered to herself. She skimmed through the stupid entries and found even more pages about herself. She covered her mouth, blushing madly. “Oh my… I had no idea.” She couldn’t help but smile and continue flipping through the pages.

TUESDAY 14 NOVEMBER, 2023 Minjeong is back at it again. I’ve met her eyes a couple of times today and it was simply enchanting. The way her face lit up when our eyes connected mate my heart skipped a beat. She looks honest. Happy and amazing. I wish I could see her eyes every day, see every feeling in her pupils, knowing she wouldn’t be afraid to hide anything from me. Of course, I’d do the same. Minjeong is already a great friend, she’d be a great girlfriend as well. I thought about confessing for the first time. It was really a stupid thought. There is no way someone like her would accept me. I’m just a bum. I don’t even like myself, why would she? Eventually, someone will come and take her away, I just have to accept it. I love you, Minjeong.

WEDNESDAY 22 NOVEMBER, 2023 Am I a pervert for looking at Minjeong’s legs? My eyes were glued to her thighs. Maybe for a couple of minutes. Yeah, that’s definitely too much.

Minjeong glanced down at her shorts and bear legs and suddenly she felt too exposed. She regretted wearing such revealing clothes.

MONDAY 27 NOVEMBER, 2023 I want to love Minjeong properly. She’s such a perfect girl. I want her to feel loved. I’d cuddle and hug her a lot if she was my girlfriend. I daydreamed in class instead of listening to the literature lesson and this thought came to me: Minjeong backhugging me. That’s it. That’s the thought. It was enough to make me a blushing mess. Dear Diary, I have a problem.

Minjeong didn’t feel exposed anymore, she just felt warm and flustered. “You silly…” Minjeong said. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching, then hugged the diary close to her chest. “I never knew you felt this way…”

Fearing that you might be coming back, Minjeong thought that she had read enough and it was time to put it away. She just stood up and was about to put the diary back on the desk when a piece of paper fell out. It looked like it was sandwiched between the hardcover and the last page. She picked it up from the ground and read it.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Top marks Try skiing Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

Minjeong didn’t have the time to put it away when she heard your steps. She just stuffed the diary under the books and kept the paper in her pocket.

Minejong quickly recollected herself. She straightened out the few messy strands and the wrinkled clothes. She took a deep breath and shook off the agitation, anything could have been suspicious in your eyes. You weren’t dumb—although you weren’t exactly smart either—so Minjeong had to be extra careful. That said, she had to think of a way to put the little paper back in place because surely you would have noticed the next time you were going to write about how fantastic the latest wrestling match you watched was.

“Here you go,” you said, throwing Minjeong the box of pepero. “You had me looking everywhere for those… fortunately they were still good.”

Minjeong smiled, picking up the box from her lap, a natural grin on her small lips. “Thank you, you’re amazing.”

You had no words to reply but only another smile. You exhaled, letting your body drop lifeless on the bed, beside your friend. The episode was still at the 26:56 mark, and you were recollecting what happened previous to the still frame.

“Oh, by the way, I also got a bag of chocolates,” you said. You took the plastic bag you left on the corner of the folded covers. It was full of those little bite-sized chocolates you’d buy to decorate your tables in the living room when someone was coming over during the winter; or for a bunch of kids. But you got the smaller version, which also cost a couple of bucks more because it was of “fine quality”.

“No way!” she said, letting go of the pepero, forgotten like it never meant anything to her. You looked at the Oreo-looking box and blinked a few times. Why did it feel so relatable?

“You know I love chocolate!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I bought it,” you said.

When you pressed the space bar on your laptop and the episode restarted, the room fell into a comfortable silence. You could only hear the dialogues coming from the speakers and Minjeong cutely munching on her peperos. You were grinning widely, having more fun staring at the hamster beside you than the scenes on the screen themselves.

Minjeong on the other hand, wasn’t exactly happy. Sure, the joy from her discovery was still lingering in her mind but so was the shock. The crunchy sticks of chocolate and biscuit took the roles of her nails, on which she nervously munched without stop, box after box. She would steal glances at you from time to time, and seeing you smile so happily, laughing and passionately talking to her, made her feel things she had never felt before.

She wasn’t sure if it was indigestion or butterflies in her stomach, but the thing was, Minjeong couldn’t focus on the screen at all. Her mind was still processing the revelations from the secret diary, she tried to act nonchalant, and fortunately, you couldn’t see her well, but her cheeks were betraying a faint blush.

“The cat is so round, it looks like a bag of potatoes, don’t you think?” you laughed.

“Y-yeah,” she whispered. Winter cleared her throat, “So, what do you think will happen next in the drama?”

“What do you mean? They’re like—they’re gonna kiss. Look at the romantic tension. I bet it’s gonna be a cliffhanger.”

“Right, right…” Minjeong continued to stare at the screen. Didn’t the protagonists kinda look like you and her…? She swore they were very similar at that moment. Somehow she could see herself in the shoes of the girl, while you could have been the protagonist, with that manly shoulders and features—ehem—you had the same eyes. Yes, that’s exactly what Minjeong was thinking, or at least, that’s what she wanted to think.

The protagonists, Ji-hoon and Soo-mi, stood close, their eyes filled with emotions, concealed, to the point of overflowing. Just like her and you. Ji-hoon tenderly reached out, cupping Soo-mi's face in his hands. With a soft smile, he gently brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, his touch lingering. His fingers looked very gentle, you always have been gentle too, maybe if it was you doing, it would feel…

“Minjeong.”

“What?!” The girl squirmed lightly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly self-aware. The romantic scene felt really closer than usual and her facade was slowly falling.

“I think it’s about to happen,” you said, still keeping your eyes attached to the screen. “They’re gonna kiss, I feel it.”

“Uh,” Minjeong started, terribly awkward. “These romantic scenes are always so... uh, intense, right?

“What do you…” you turned around and saw her heated cheeks. You looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The corner of her mouth twitched. “You're blushing, Minjeong. Are you sure you're okay?”

“Me? Blushing?” she fumbled. “No, I'm perfectly fine. It's just... you know, the drama.”

On the screen, the air crackled with tension as Ji-hoon kept cupping Soo-mi's face, his eyes searching hers for consent. Without words, their lips finally met in a tender yet passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, leaving only the sweet symphony of their hearts and the intoxicating warmth of the embrace.

Minjeong was watching everything but the kiss.

“You're not usually this flustered,” you observed. Minjeong’s behavior was really weird. You looked back at the screen and it all looked normal. They were in their slowed-down shot with the ballad in the background.

“Yeah, well, it's just a really good episode,” she said, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You tried to look at her by bending down and tilting your head but likewise, she turned around to avoid you. It looked strange but you just continued to watch the drama, accepting her answer.

As the episode concluded, Minjeong heaved a silent sigh of relief. She attempted to divert attention by reaching for more snacks, hoping to distract both herself and you from the lingering awkwardness.

You continue to the next episode.

You turned around and tried to get one of the snacks that were on her side. As you stretched, your hand brushed against Minjeong’s thigh. At the touch, she jolted with a loud gasp. It was like you sent a shock through her body.

“Oops, sorry about that,” you said apologetically, retrieving the box to your side.

“N-no problem at all,” she stammered.

You continued to watch without thinking much of it but Minjeong was completely on the edge. When you shifted and adjusted yourself, your leg would accidentally brush against hers. Or when you wanted to take the water bottle and you’d hug her shoulder by mistake. The blush on her cheeks continued to grow and she started to want to get out of there.

Your touches continued, all the ones that you were both accustomed to before, now sent a ripple of flustered nerves through Minjeong.

Eventually, the episodes ended and you came to the end of the drama. Minjeong’s nerves finally relaxed. You helped her gather her things and after chatting for a while, you bid her goodbye. You insisted on bringing her home, especially since it was quite late but she didn’t want to hear any of it and ran outside.

Minjeong slept well that night. She had all sorts of dreams and fantasies—was someone in the hallway, they’d think an actress was rehearsing for her future role. When she woke up, however, it was another story. Thanks to the newly found clarity of mind, the realization hit her harder than ever.

You liked her.

You! You.

You liked her.

Minjeong sighed and sat up on the bed.

She liked you.

Yes, she.

She liked you.

Now she had two options: either ignore it, act like nothing happened, which was both the easiest and hardest choice she could take; or deal with it. Minjeong didn’t like the idea of ignoring what she found. It would be like playing with your feelings. Really, you confessed indirectly, she has read all of your honest words, letter by letter, and now knew all of your feelings. You confessed to her.

But she also didn’t want to talk to you about it. Because, well, it was embarrassing.

What if you didn’t feel ready for a relationship? Maybe your journal was an outlet for your stress where you poured out all of your feelings knowing full well you couldn’t be with her.

Maybe it wasn’t a journal, maybe it was a fictional diary that you were writing. Like some sort of diary of a wimpy kid but for lovers.

Maybe you were writing about another girl. You knew that someone could have found your diary, just like Minjeong did, so you used another name. You could have been in some sort of Romeo and Juliet type of affair and the repercussions could have been deadly.

Minjeong was just making stuff up at this point. Let’s face it, you were just a normal person and what she read were real journal entries.

She sighed heavily. “Why?! Why did I…” she yelled. Minjeong closed her eyes and remembered your words—how sweet they were, how honest and meaningful—then shook her head. “It’s better this way.”

The piece of paper was still on the desk, crumbled and waiting. She got up and held it in her hand, skimming through your bucket list again.

BUCKET LIST Go on a date with Minjeong (skating?) Watch the starry sky Touch Minjeong’s cheeks Try skiing Top marks Confess Kiss MinHold Minjeong’s hand

She just ignored your last desire—the crossed-out line was still pretty readable but it was too embarrassing right now. You have helped her a lot until now, making most of the dreams from her bucket list come true. Yet, she has never had the chance to pay you back. Minjeong thought carefully and realized that this was the perfect occasion. She liked you so she would have liked it too and if you didn’t want to get into a relationship with her, at least she could fulfill a couple of your desires.

Minjeong clutched the paper with determinatione; it was her mission.

Objective 1: Secure the date

When Minjeong made up her mind and got up, two steps from the door of the room, she realized one thing: she had never been on a date. Such a pretty girl like Minjeong should have been asked out at least ten times by now. Especially since she wasn’t exactly shy or intimidating. And truly she had been asked out, but she never accepted. She’d say she had to focus on her studies, or that she wasn’t ready, or that it wasn’t the age for that kind of thing.

Minjeong turned while holding her chin, her eyebrow furrowed in deep thought. She had a location—the skating ring—that was a starter. But now, what do you do on a date? Minjeong tried to recall all the dramas she had watched: maybe she’d get some sort of idea. She has watched plenty of shows, surely there was something useful.

Characters would usually kiss each other ‘accidentally’ for example. Minjeong tried to imagine the scene: you and her walking in the frozen streets, her tripping and falling in your arms… some kids bumping into you, your lips brushing against her in a split second. Minejong started to blush terribly. “No, no, no, that’s not good,” she shook her head to get the thought out of her mind.

She was definitely overthinking this. You probably didn’t know any better than her and couples don’t really prepare that much before a date—it had to be natural. Minjeong decided to call you. There was a skating ring opened in the city during that period so that was the right occasion.

She gripped her phone, inhaled and exhaled. “Just hanging out,” she pointed out. “That’s right, don’t stress Minjeong, it’s just a hangout between friends.”

After Minjeong decided what to say and prepared all the possible dialogue options, which took about half an hour, she dialed your number and called. She couldn’t even calm her mind that you already picked up.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey,” Minjeong answered.

“Oh, Minjeong, how are you? Why are you calling me?”

“Well, I’ve got an idea for you.”

“Shoot.”

Minjeong swallowed her saliva. “How about we go skating at the ice rink? They opened it in the city center, I think it would be fun.”

“Skating, huh? Uhm… well, I’ve been thinking about it,” you said, you’ve been really thinking about it. It was such a weird coincidence that Minjeong asked you about it. However, “I haven’t done that in ages. Are you sure I won’t end up flat on my back?” You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of your crush.

Minjeong laughed jokingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back… or, well, I’ve got your back if you do fall. But trust me, you’ll learn pretty quick.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really convinced.”

“Come on, we’ll have fun. They also sell hot chocolate and crepes. I’ll buy it for you if you come!”

“Free food? Okay, you’ve convinced me. When do you wanna see each other?”

“How about Saturday? We should both be free.”

“Sounds good. Alright, thanks, see ya.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as she hung up, Minjeong started jumping around like a maniac. She felt like she was a kid again, so excited and happy. She just forgot to tell you at what time to come. Whatever. She could have texted the time later. Plans were just going as planned.

The plans did not go as planned.

Objective 2: Find a replacement

Minjeong spent her whole morning preparing for the date. She looked at all the possible cafés and restaurants and food places you two could go to in case you got hungry. Then she looked at all the possible outfits she had in her wardrobe. She called her friend, Karina to help her decide the clothes. They ended up giggling and talking for about 5 hours about Minjeong’s story with you and Karina’s love interest.

In the end, they decided to go for the simplest sweater and pants they could find. It was to “not hide Minjeong’s natural beauty” as Karina put it. Whatever that meant.

You met right at the entrance of the city. You were already waiting there.

You found it hard to recognize Minjeong. She was bundled up in a big cozy scarf, a huge hat, and big gloves. The jacket was also quite thick, making her look like a snowman. You knew Karina didn’t let her go out of the house before dressing her up properly. You smiled, she looked very cute.

The both of you made your way to the ice ring talking about uni, friends, work, and so on. Being with Minjeong was always a pleasure as you could confide in each other about whatever problem or worry you had.

Hand in hand, you scrolled through the city, the subtle crunch of snow beneath your feet providing a serene soundtrack. There were a lot of people on the street. You came early but the sky was already starting to darken.

When you reached the ice rink, you gulped. Minjeong instead, was extremely excited. You paid for the skate shoes, slipped them in, and stepped on the ice.

The ice beneath your skates glistened brightly, it felt like ice, ready to crack, ready to swallow you in case you fell and gave in to the demons of the cold. Minjeong was still excited. She was already laughing while looking at the small kids tumble down the ice like bowling pins.

Wrapped in the warmth of your scarf and being alongside Minjeong, provided you enough confidence and comfort to aid your attempt. You stepped slowly, your legs shaking. Your friend held your hand and guided you through the edge of the ring until you found the right rhythm to continue on your own.

Your confidence grew, maybe too much, and you tried to make a tight turn and slipped. Your heart skipped a beat and your life flashed before your eyes. Fortunately Minjeong, with lighting reflexes, reached out and grabbed you.

“Oh my god, thank you Minjeong, you saved my life.”

“Be more careful!” she laughed.

After the incident, you started to be more careful and continued skating.

At one point, tiny snowflakes began to fall down the sky, soft and gentle. Both you and Minjeong started smiling brightly, thinking it looked like a scene from a romance movie. It really looked like what you’ve always dreamt of, skating with Minjeong under the snow.

The snowfall intensified, turning the ice rink into a snowy spectacle. It added a layer of magic to their already enchanting evening, and you continued to skate with carefree joy, leaving behind a trail of swirling snowflakes. However, as the snowfall grew heavier, the twinkling lights began to fade, and a voice over the speakers announced the temporary closure of the rink for safety reasons.

Minjeong panicked. She couldn’t end the date this way.

“Isn’t that a shame?” you said, walking away from the ice ring. “Well, I still had fun nonetheless, thank you for today, Minjeong.”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted you. “Uhm, it’s still pretty early, wanna go back to my place?”

“Heh? Well, why not? Wanna order out?”

“Yeah, that’s fine by me.”

“Then let’s go.” Good job, Minjeong.

Objective 3: Look at the sky

You entered the pitch-black living room and turned on the lights. The room was well-lighted but still felt small and comfy, it probably was the darkness from outside the window. You glanced at Minjeong as she folded a blanket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. The air held a chill, a reminder that winter had firmly settled outside the confines of your makeshift refuge.

She nonchalantly dropped a stack of DVDs onto the coffee table, the worn covers hinting at countless movie nights spent in this room. Minjeong leaned over the desk, planting her hands on the edge. Minjeong's gaze shifted to you, What do you feel like watching?"

I shrugged, my gaze scanning the room as if the answer lay hidden in the faded wallpaper. "Anything. Surprise me." She picked a random DVD, its label scratched and worn. She put the disc into the blueray reader and grabbed the remote. The sofa creaked as Minjeong plopped down, patting the cushion next to her. "Grab a blanket. It's gonna get colder."

You complied, dragging a fuzzy throw from the back of a nearby chair. You two draped yourselves in layers of warmth, settling into the groove of the well-worn sofa cushions. The silence enveloped you, a familiar companion that required no words.

Halfway through the movie, however, Minjeong looked at the sky: it stopped snowing. It was like the snow had purged all the previous filth between the clouds and smog and left it a pure black, only decorated by the glowing stars. Minjeong kept slapping at your leg and pointing at the sky until you turned around and the view stunned you.

Objective 4: Hold that hand

“Wow…” your friend whispered.

“Yep,” you said back. The two of you continued to watch the sky, while Kung Fu Panda 2 was becoming noise in the background and your conversation shifted to the sight. You raised an arm, pointing at the bright dots.

“You know, the color of a star indicates its temperature,” you said. “Hotter stars appear blue or white, while cooler ones look red.”

“How is it red if it’s colder?” Minjeong said, puzzled.

“It’s about the waves of light emitted. To put it simply, cooler stars emit less blue light so they look red.”

Minjeong smiled, “That's interesting, but you know, in astrology, stars, and their positions also play a significant role. I'm a Capricorn, ruled by Saturn, and it says a lot about my personality.”

As soon as you heard the word ‘astrology’ you sighed heavily and rolled your eyes, sliding down the sofa. Minjeong has already filled your head with that stuff to the brim. Whenever she had time or whenever she bought a magazine from the news kiosk, she’d start reading the entire thing of the signs, you don’t even remember what it was called.

“Astrology, Minjeong? Seriously?”

Your friend furrowed her eyebrows from annoyance and spoke defensively, “What? It's fascinating! Capricorns are disciplined, ambitious, and practical. I mean, doesn't that sound like me?”

“Disciplined? Sure. But practical?” you laughed. “You're the one who believes in star signs.”

“Well, you're just a typical Capricorn skeptic. But I bet you secretly find it intriguing.”

You chuckled and shook your head. You two laughed it off and the silence resumed. After a brief moment, where your breaths signed the passing of time, you noticed Minjeong’s glow in the dark. Your heart fluttered as you watched her profile against the moonlight. Sometimes you forget your true feelings for your friend, but they always come back.

You sighed while turning back to the sky. “It's such a beautiful night, isn't it?” you whispered, masking the true meaning of your words because you weren’t really talking about the night. Both of you talked in codes, not on purpose but none of you could be honest. You were too scared of her possible answer and Minjeong was too scared to lose you.

“Yeah, it is,” she said softly. As you continued stargazing in comfortable silence, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions. The recent revelations from your secret diary still lingered in her thoughts, and her unspoken feelings were twisting and turning inside her.

Her hand slowly crept up near you, a subconscious action maybe, a planned incident perhaps; but it was the perfect occasion. You felt her touch and didn’t think twice to hold her hand. The initial contact, when your fingers intertwine, sends a wave of warmth through you. The touch is surprisingly intimate, it felt like a bridge between Minjeong and you. In a way, her feelings were coursing through you.

Objective 5: Spill it out

“Today was perfect,” you say. Minjeong silently watches you with a soft smile. “You know, I’ve always been dreaming of this moment. To watch the stars with you…” your air suddenly blocked in your throat, “Well, I—” “I already know.”

“What?”

“I already knew it. That you wanted to watch the stars—and that you wanted to go skating… with me.”

You opened your mouth to ask her how but Minjeong was faster and pulled out the crumbled piece of paper, the title ‘BUCKET LIST’ was still visible. You panicked, your eyes flicking between her stupidly satisfied smile and your embarrassing, horribly written list of desires.

You gulped and started talking, stuttering, mumbling every word, “S-so did you see the di-diary?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god… I wanna die.”

“No, wait—”

“Forget everything Minjeong, no, well, you obviously can’t,” you blurted out, you didn’t know what to say anymore. “I’m sorry you had to read that. It was gross. I’m going to move out of the country, buy tickets, pack things, you’ll forget about me and I’ll start my new life—”

“I like you too!”

“What did you just say?” you stopped and looked at her with wide eyes.

Minjeong's admission hung in the air, and for a moment, the only sound between you two was the soft rustling of the crumpled bucket list paper in her hands. Your eyes widened, locked onto hers, searching for any sign of jest or misdirection, but all you found was true sincerity. Her pupils stared at you, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"You... you like me too?" you stammered, hesitant and scared that you might have heard the wrong words.

Minjeong nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Yes. I like you. I read your list, and it wasn't gross. It was... endearing. Honestly, it made my heart race a little."

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, a mixture of relief and newfound anxiety. "I thought I'd scared you away with that stuff."

Minjeong chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not at all. It made me realize we share the same dreams, the same desires. I've been wanting to do those things too, you know?"

The weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a warmth that settled deep within. You felt a connection, a shared vulnerability that made the revelation less daunting. "So... what does this mean?" you asked, your voice soft.

She leaned in, her gaze unwavering. "It means we don't have to dream about those things anymore. We can make them happen together."

A grin broke across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. "Yeah, together."

Minjeong's hand found yours, and this time, it wasn't just for a casual touch but a deliberate, reassuring connection. The stars above seemed to twinkle in approval as you both sat there, hand in hand, in the quiet realization that your shared dreams weren't just fantasies on a crumpled piece of paper anymore—they were possibilities waiting to unfold.

“There’s still a last wish on that list I can fulfill…” Minjeong whispered. She took a deep breath and went for it.

She kissed you.

Minjeong's eyes, soft and inviting, met yours, and at that moment, the world outside faded into insignificance.

"I've been wanting to do this," Minjeong whispered, her voice a delicate murmur that hung in the space between you. Her fingers grazed the side of your face, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down your spine. The proximity between you became charged, the magnetic pull undeniable.

You didn't need words. The unspoken agreement lingered in the air, and with a gentle tilt of her head, Minjeong closed the distance. The first brush of her lips against yours felt like the tentative caress of a butterfly's wings, a delicate exploration that spoke volumes. It was a moment of hesitancy and boldness, a dance between vulnerability and longing.

You didn’t say anything else, the look in your and her eyes understood each other perfectly and you kissed again. The first one was a quick peck, a mix of fear and sudden braveness. The second one was the overflow of your feelings, a long and deep kiss, a slow fusion of warmth and connection.

The world outside might have continued its relentless pace, but within the embrace of that kiss, time became elastic, bending to the rhythm of your shared heartbeat. It was a stolen moment, a stolen kiss, and yet, it felt like something long overdue, as if the universe itself had conspired to bring your lips together in this tender collision.

When the kiss finally broke, your lips naturally curled into a large smile while she hid under the blanket from the embarrassment. Minjeong emerged only a moment later, red and flustered. “Uhm, I wasn’t too bad, right? That was my first kiss…”

“It was my first too, and no, it wasn’t bad. It was amazing,” you said honestly. “I just like how I dreamed.”

Minjeong and you laughed together. This was just the start of the many more desires you two would fulfil together.

Mission completed

THE END

Written, 03 December 2023 - 14 December 2023

#aespa #aespa winter #winter #kim minjeong #kpop fluff #kpop #aespa fluff #winter fluff

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fellthemarvelous · 5 months

Text

Aziraphale hate makes my brain hurt.

Like let's be really fuckin' for real here.

Neurodivergent fans have repeatedly said that Aziraphale is autistic coded. I agree with them. I have never been diagnosed but I wonder about myself. If only I could get a doctor to take me seriously enough to test me for it, but alas, I'm a 43-year-old woman living in the good ole US of A.

Those with religious trauma have repeatedly said that they identify with him as well. I'm one of those people. I endured 12 years of Catholic schools and just as much time being taught a very black and white view of things that I've had to spend more than 20 goddamn fucking years working to unlearn.

I find that my views as a survivor of religious abuse are often dismissed because people keep wanting to say "Aziraphale doesn't have religious trauma." Yes, thank you, I get that, but unless you've been indoctrinated and brainwashed into a very black and white view of the world, you probably don't understand the kind of feelings Aziraphale's onscreen experiences evoke in so many of us. Heaven might not be real, but the feelings of "God is always watching" still stick with me today even though I no longer believe in God. I have entirely denounced Christianity because of my own personal experience, and I refuse to allow people to try and guilt me or shame me for trauma that I didn't ask for. I wasn't given a choice.

As a child I was told that God was real and always watching everything you do (just like Santa Claus) and can hear everything you say and knows everything you are thinking. Do you know what I learned to do in order to cope with this overwhelming and anxiety-inducing information as a small child? I learned to censor my thoughts. I never spoke up, and I have always felt like I was putting on a show for people because I had to be who I was told to be or I would get into trouble.

Aziraphale said "poverty is a virtue" during The Resurrectionists, and as someone who grew up in the Bible belt and went to private schools, I was taught this very same shit by the Catholic church. He learned in that very same episode that "poverty is a virtue" is actually a tool of oppression to keep the poor poor and the wealthy wealthy. I know we all watched the episode. He went into that episode believing what he said, but by the end of it he knew it was actually utter bullshit. Aziraphale is not ignorant. He's highly intelligent, and he has never been too proud to admit when he has been wrong. He accepts that the information he learned before is not matching up with reality.

And it's so obvious some of you have zero experience with that type of indoctrination because of how very little empathy you show Aziraphale for his "mistake" of "choosing Heaven over Crowley" and "making Crowley sad" so clearly Aziraphale must somehow be "abusive" and "manipulative" and "selfish" and "self-centered" because he didn't choose to run away with Crowley at the end of season two.

First of all.

FIRST OF ALL...

Aziraphale has a mind of his own.

Aziraphale is always going to try and do what is right.

Aziraphale is an angel. He's a being of love. And the reason he's so "bad" at being an angel is because he actually wants to protect humanity. He has always loved humanity. He repeatedly has to contend with what is "right" versus what is "good" and "wrong" versus "evil". Yeah, he has flaws. He's an angel, not a goddamn fucking saint. He has lived on Earth for more than 6,000 years. He has seen everything. He loves doing human things.

He's obsessed with magic. It makes him so happy. He's not very good at it...well not when he's trying to put on a show for Crowley.

He chose to learn French the hard way, so even though he knows every single language in the world, he chooses to be mediocre at French. Something that annoys and amuses Crowley at the same time.

He loves to dance even though angels aren't supposed to dance, and dancing with Crowley was what he wanted the most.

He owns a bookshop and refuses to sell any of his books because they are books he's had for as long as there have been books. He will chase customers away from his collection, and Crowley understands how much they mean to Aziraphale because he refuses to sell any when Aziraphale leaves him in charge.

He and Crowley have been speaking to each other in coded language for more than 6,000 years. They have to be very careful about what they say because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Heaven has photographs of Crowley and Aziraphale sitting or standing together throughout history. Hell had one photo of Crowley and Aziraphale actually working together and it was Aziraphale's quick thinking and how good he actually is at sleight of hand tricks that managed to get that photo out of Furfur's hands so he wouldn't be able to turn Crowley over to the Dark Council.

Aziraphale saved Crowley from being taken to Hell again. He wasn't able to save Crowley from Hell in Edinburgh, but he sure as heck managed to save Crowley from Hell during WWII. He took Crowley to his bookshop and showed Crowley that he stole the picture from Furfur. He saved Crowley.

You get that, right?

Aziraphale SAVED Crowley.

People always talk about how it's "always Crowley saving Aziraphale" because apparently heroic acts are only heroic when they are grand gestures. The sleight of hand wasn't heroic at all, am I right? It wasn't sparkly and showy. It wasn't interesting enough, therefore not heroic. At least that's all I'm hearing when people start with their "blah Aziraphale deserves to suffer because I have no imagination or ability to understand the media in front of me blah", and all these reasons he deserves to suffer is because Crowley almost got hurt.

Aziraphale did that without flinching and I watch that part closely every single time. He's not scared for himself. He's scared for Crowley, and he managed to hold onto that photograph. He did not fail Crowley. He protected Crowley.

And so here's another thing that we like to point out. The way that Aziraphale, an angel who is effeminate and male presenting, an angel who is soft and full of love, an angel who is kind and forgiving because he has empathy and compassion, is somehow painted as abusive and manipulative. He's not violent, but he could easily fuck up your world. He doesn't use his powers. We have no idea how powerful he is because we only ever see him do small acts. He's used to hiding. It's the only way he has ever been able to protect Crowley.

And I'm not saying that Aziraphale has actually saved Crowley before means that Crowley hasn't also saved Aziraphale. Like, you get that those are not mutually exclusive and their relationship is not transactional, right? They have spent their entire existence protecting each other but never actually getting to be together because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Yeah, Crowley fell. We all know this. We are aware of this. He was the serpent of Eden. He gave humanity the knowledge of free will.

But what we don't talk about is what Aziraphale gave humanity.

What did he give them?

We all know what it is!

Let's say it together!

He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword because it was dangerous outside the garden and Eve was pregnant and she was already having a really bad day. He showed them compassion and gave them his extremely powerful angelic weapon so they would stand a chance on the outside of the garden. He gave humanity the gift of compassion. It's just unfortunate that his flaming sword became a weapon of War.

And then what did he do after that?

Ooooh, yeah, that's right.

God asked him about it and he straight up lied to her and pretended he had no idea where he'd managed to misplace it. She didn't say anything after that. He told Crowley the truth though. He told Crowley the truth even though Crowley fell.

Yeah, we know Aziraphale has done some really fucking questionable things. He and Crowley both suck at passing for human in front of observant people like Nina. They're not human. They are still learning, but they managed to experience human history together despite being on opposite sides and their experiences with humanity are what has shaped them into the compassionate and loving duo they are now. One of them is not better from the other.

This, my friends, is what we call meeting in the middle. It's why shades of gray is so important. Aziraphale constantly breaks the rules. Crowley refused to play by Heaven's rules. It's the reason he fell. He doesn't play by Hell's rules either. These two dorks figured out how to cancel each others' miracles out throughout human history in order to have more time learning about humanity and each other because working all day every day sucks when there are so many new things to learn and experience with the people you love.

We know Crowley and Aziraphale both love each other. Neither of them are good at hiding the hearts stars in their eyes.

But here's what's really fucking annoying about the Aziraphale hate.

Aziraphale was already crying when Crowley grabbed him and kissed him. Aziraphale is trying so very hard to do the right thing. He loves Crowley. He does. But he also has a duty to humanity, and he has taken that job very seriously since the creation of Adam and Eve. He sent them out into the world with a flaming sword so they would have a chance at surviving beyond the walls of the garden.

And he knows that Something Terrible is going to happen and he spent all of second season trying to figure out what that Something Terrible was while trying to have some sort of more honest and open relationship with Crowley, but again, they aren't human, they are a demon and an angel approaching life from opposite sides who met in the middle and fell in love with humanity together.

He wants more than anything to tell Crowley how he feels about him, but he wants to do something grand for Crowley because Crowley has always been grand and dramatic and sexy and a little bit scary.

Crowley is impulsive and has a temper and sometimes says the wrong thing but he has always trusted Aziraphale because Aziraphale gave him a chance even after he fell. Aziraphale chose to shelter him instead of smiting him while they stood on top of that wall. He knew he was supposed to kill Crowley, but oops, he gave his sword away to the humans so he didn't really have anything to kill him with and Crowley is the one who created nebulas. The Pillars of Creation is Crowley's work and Aziraphale was there to witness that, but he watched Crowley more than he watched the nebula. He witnessed the pure joy on Crowley's face when he said "let there be light" as a nebula full of colors exploded before their eyes. He was fascinated by Crowley.

But Aziraphale is going back to Heaven even though he has made it perfectly clear he absolutely has no desire to go back to Heaven. He told the Metatron this during their conversation. He spoke these words out loud. They exist.

But then The Metatron said this....

The Metatron. The very same angel who told Aziraphale in season one "to speak to me is to speak to the Almighty." He's the boss. He's the big guy. He's used to existing as a giant head and he had to give himself a body so he wouldn't stand out on Earth. And he knows that Aziraphale and Crowley have been working together since the beginning. He knows they worked together to prevent Armageddon in season one, and now he's made it clear he knows they were working together long before that. And let's face it, Aziraphale really wants to know what this Something Terrible is that Gabriel is running from so he can try to prevent it from happening.

It makes sense that he would want to take Crowley to Heaven with him because he would be able to keep Hell from getting their hands on him again. Aziraphale hates it in Heaven. He doesn't want to go, but Something Terrible is happening and Metatron isn't taking no for an answer, and maybe Heaven won't be so bad if Crowley is there with him. At least they can fix Heaven together.

But Crowley can't go back. We all get that. We don't blame him for saying no. It doesn't change anything.

Something Terrible is about to happen and Aziraphale has to figure out what it is. He wants to change Heaven.

He is fully aware that Heaven sucks. He still has faith in God. His faith isn't in Heaven. He deserted his platoon in season one and threw himself back to Earth so he could figure out how to make sure the war between Heaven and Hell doesn't happen.

But see, here's the thing. Heaven is at the top. Heaven has all the resources. Heaven is responsible for the creation of Hell. Heaven is empty and Hell is overpopulated. Aziraphale knows this. Crowley knows this. It's obvious every time we see either place. Both sides are desperate to go to war and will not hesitate to destroy humanity in the process. This is the opposite of what Crowley and Aziraphale want for humanity. If anyone can change Heaven, it's Aziraphale. He's the only one up there who gives a shit about humanity as far as we know. No one else is going to speak on humanity's behalf.

Some of us are so busy getting mad at Aziraphale for going back to Heaven and giving Crowley a Big Sad. Newsflash: Crowley is not the main character of Good Omens. Aziraphale and Crowley are equals, yet we wanna hold Aziraphale to higher standards because he's an angel, and when he makes mistakes it's proof that he's the bad guy.

Holy mother of all things that trigger my religious trauma, let me tell you. I spent my entire life hating myself every time I made mistakes. I've had to teach myself that just because I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I'm bad. It means I'm human. I still struggle with it. I probably always will. So when you say that Aziraphale deserves to be punished for breaking Crowley's heart, you not only ignore that Aziraphale's heart is also broken, you're saying he deserves to be punished for doing what he thinks is right.

Wanting to change Heaven for the better is not a bad thing.

And some of y'all wanna see him suffer for going back into the lion's den that is Heaven, knowing that he is already an outcast, that they have already tried to kill him once, knowing that he is a deserter, that he has been lying to Heaven about a lot of things, and you still think he's blinded by Heaven? You think he's just so naive and that's the only reason he's going back. He doesn't show his emotions the same way Crowley does so it means he doesn't care as much. He's expected to consider Crowley's feelings over his own when making choices. Like holy shit if all of that hasn't defined my experience as a woman with religious trauma in this fucking society. He's expected to be subservient to Crowley and if he doesn't do what Crowley wants then he's being unreasonable and illogical.

What the actual fuck, y'all.

Like seriously.

I'm sick of this bullshit. I had to step away from this fandom because of how toxic some people in this fandom are. It's not chasing me away, but the fact that I chose to hang out in a a more toxic fandom that is already notorious for being really toxic over a fandom that claims to be more open-minded and welcoming should probably tell you something.

It gave me a lot of perspective, and yeah, I'm still gonna speak up against the bullshit Aziraphale hate.

People are entitled to their opinions, but the Aziraphale hate isn't an opinion. It's just ableist, misogynistic garbage. At this point we all know y'all say these extreme things about Aziraphale because y'all get more joy out of the harm and alienation it is causing others.

Keep being loudly wrong, but if you think I'm not entitled to challenge shitty-ass, harmful, hateful discourse, bite my ass.

I'm not the one who lost the plot in this fandom.

#autistic coded character #religious trauma #good omens #aziraphale #aziraphale defense squad #i'm in a mood #like i'm begging y'all to learn what empathy is #like goddamn i know i'm not perfect but at least i don't forget that the reason for everything in good omens is love #neil has said this several times #it's one thing to dislike a character #it's another to assassinate characters in ways that blatantly contradict what the narrative has told us #and try to pass it off as canon #if you wanna send me hate just hit the block button instead #i'll try to be really sad about it #and if you just have to send me hatemail at least have the courage to attach it to your name instead of hiding behind anon #i'm too old for this shit #i'm gonna go back to the star wars tag now #it's been a minute since i went off and today proved to be the perfect day for it

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