#worthy to note i'm not even the only one who does any of these things apparently it's just a problem when i do it go figure

[themarsbar]

.

[cobragardens]

Notes on the Scene in Job's Basement

Crowley is not tempting Aziraphale here. He's experimenting on him.

Getting Aziraphale to sin, or even getting him drunk, is not Crowley's intent in this scene. Eating food, taking pleasure in food, drinking alcohol, and even being drunk are not sins in most of Judaism or Christianity (and they're certainly not sins in British Christianity, regardless of any church's doctrine). When Aziraphale turns down alcohol, Crowley just suggests he try food instead; so it's not important to Crowley what Aziraphale tries, but it is important to him that he try something.

This scene is also the first time (chronologically) we see that Crowley likes to drink and likes to be drunk.

We know from

and from

as well as from Book Omens and Word of God that angels have no instinct beyond curiosity pulling them toward eating or toward gender. From this we can reasonably presume they have no instinct toward Beverages either.

That means that in this moment--

--Crowley is very likely the only metaphysical entity he knows on either side of the divide, or even knows of, who has ever experienced a physical pleasure.

And he probably has some Lingering Questions about it, like we all did the first time a physical pleasure blew our minds. Like,

Is it this strong for everyone?

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I going to hurt myself if I do this, like, a lot?

And it's not like the poor creature can ask anyone, because the answers for humans aren't necessarily going to apply to him.

So when he sees an opportunity, Crowley gets that one angel he knows who'll talk to him to try a human thing, and then he watches to see if physical pleasure hits the angel as hard as it hit him.

And that's why he looks so creepily pleased when it does.

Apparently it is this strong for everyone and there isn't anything wrong with him. Now he can relax and get sloshed without worrying, and he even has someone to talk to about how rad human stuff is.

A Dip Into Speculation

We know because we're shown this isn't the first time Crowley has gotten drunk that, watching Aziraphale, Crowley understands what he's seeing. I think it's really interesting that Crowley doesn't laugh at Aziraphale at any point during this scene, and he doesn't correct the way he's eating, either.

Maybe it's because this is what it was like for Crowley the first time. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and woke up in a puddle of his own sick. Maybe he got so drunk he passed out and didn't wake up at all, and there was Paperwork and he had to get used to a whole new corporation just when he'd got the hang of having legs in the old one. Maybe somebody had to show him how to use a fork or whatever they had going on for eating utensils in Ancient Mesopotamia. I distinctly remember having to learn as a small child to chew with my mouth closed. There is every possibility Crowley doesn't consider the way Aziraphale is eating to be worthy of ridicule because whatever Crowley did the first time was worse.

Maybe he wants to leave Aziraphale set up for later embarrassment over his table manners. Aziraphale was a judgy bitch about the wine.

Or maybe it's something like Let him have this one. There can be rules to it later; let him just enjoy it, once, like a little kid with both fists in their birthday cake.

Maybe it's desire. There is some textual evidence for this. Once Aziraphale learns to eat properly, the way he does it is very attractive, and we know Crowley loves watching him do it.

I don't think it's overreaching even to interpret David Tennant's physical performance of Crowley watching Aziraphale eat as one of sensual or erotic pleasure. I mean--

I'm not saying it absolutely has to be erotic, but it's not a reach, or even a full extension of the elbow, to read it that way.

There's another meta somewhere [I'll link it when I find it again; if you know this meta, please drop it in comments!] that discusses how this exchange in Job's basement is filmed like an erotic scene.

Like Crowley, we all want to kiss this face.

Aziraphale isn't eating prettily, but he's eating lewdly, ravenously, desirously, and it's lit like romantic sex, not like gluttony. Whether that's funny or poignant or hot may depend on the viewer. Here's how Crowley's handling it:

Srs tho, any frame of this scene could have been painted by Artemisia Gentileschi.

Or maybe--and this is my favorite of the available interpretations--maybe this is what it was like for Crowley the first time and he doesn't interfere because he wants Aziraphale to come out of this as someone who's had the same experience Crowley's had so Crowley won't be so totally alone in having had it.

[kysuguru]

dear mother — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : you’ve finally enrolled into jujutsu tech, sad thing is, you’re totally clueless.

includes / cw : emotionally abusive mother

all mine masterlist

a /n : ch1 of my “all mine” series!!!

"i'm ogawa [name]. i'm from sendai japan. please take care of me."

you bow politely. smiling at the tiny class of three as you rise, posture nervous and stiff.

"if i knew there was someone new i would've thrown a welcome party!" a white haired boy who's eyes are protected by circular black glasses exclaims excitedly, a smile big on his lips. you admit you're a bit intimidated. the idea of a party for you seems a bit over the top, though.

a boy on his left scoffs almost affectionately, the soft look he sends to his counterpart familiar to you. you always looked at the street cats like that, your mother as well (you try not to think about it). he has a bang over his left eye, you wonder if someone has ever tried to tuck it behind his ear.

"there's no need for a party. my arrival can't be that exciting," you chuckle shyly.

they all analyze you. so you settle with looking at your shuffling shoes.

"she speaks so formally." the gojo boy leans over with a hand cupped around his mouth as he whispers to his best friend, causing you to look up. it's a bit silly that he's acting as if he's whispering a secret even though everyone can hear him.

his friend eyes you apologetically.

there's another girl, the only one who seems actually interested as she stares you down. you flinch as you catch her gaze. her hair is short, in a brown bob that frames her face perfectly. her bangs are tucked behind her ear and there's a mole you catch on her face that convinces you she's model worthy.

other than your mother you've never thought a woman was so pretty.

"so new girl, what's your cursed technique."

new girl.. but i swore i said my name. did i not?

ignoring the white haired boy's lack of manners was easy, since you weren't all that aware he was being rude.

"i actually... don't know."

all three students chorused at the same time.

"hah?"

scouted? me? when you heard such a thing, you were confused and honestly, really surprised. you weren't talented by any means. outside of studying you didn't have much going on. not only that, but your mother kept you in the house a lot. so to hear of someone from jujutsu tech finding you worthy enough to attend had you blinking, astonished.

you were aware of what jujutsu was, cursed techniques and all of that jazz, but your knowledge was still limited beyond that. your mom was adamant on you not attending for reasons she refused to tell. obviously you didn't push. you never liked seeing her with a temper.

the man who recommended you was named yaga masamichi. he'd taken note of the significant amount of cursed energy you possessed when passing by you on your way to school. your family weren't jujutsu sorcerers from what you were aware of — you honestly weren't even sure that there were jujutsu sorcerers or people like you until now. but you'd never put it past your mom to hide something like that from you.

she always kept jujutsu related talk under wraps, only giving you little information to quell your curiosity.

you didn't even know what your cursed technique was. or if you even had one. even though you tried to understand why she does what she does, it still felt very lonely — seeing such heinous creatures and having to pretend they didn't exist for your own safety.

if it weren't for the fact that you instinctively learned to control your cursed energy output, you could've been in serious danger.

and although it was painful to go through such things alone — not being able to confide in a single person — you understood why your mother did it. all she wanted to do was keep you safe.

and even if you followed all of her rules of no jujutsu to a T, you couldn't help the sensation of excitement and relief knowing that there were so many other people out there just like you. a school of them, even.

you wanted badly to be upset with your mother, the fact that she knew about all of this and kept it from you. but even the thought of being angry at her when all she wanted was to protect you had you pushing down those foolish feelings.

other than secretive, your mother was also very stubborn. a trait that you always admired until this very moment.

she argued that you didn't belong into a school that was practically a death trap for young teens. always listening to your mother like an obedient puppy, you looked down at the floor, preparing for the inevitable rejection, expression sad as you shuffled your shoes alongside your mothers that were planted firm on the ground — you resisted the urge to distance yourself from her.

your eyes drifted to the shoes that were yaga's hoping no one would question your silence (they never did).

your mother wasn't a bad person. never that. but sometimes you couldn't help but get upset at the decisions she made in your stead. you wouldn't say that she didn't consider you, but sometimes it kinda felt that way.

"i get where you're coming from. jujutsu tech is a dangerous place and i hate to bring such young talented kids into such risks. but you have to understand your daughters side," he gestured towards you, your mothers eyes dropping to your head that perked up before they glared back at yaga.

"how do you think she feels knowing she has the opportunity to branch out and gain knowledge about these abilities. do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

your ears rang as the last sentence was spoken.

"do you think she wants to stay ignorant because you do?"

it resonated with you in a way you couldn't comprehend. all you could do was clutch your chest as a foreign feeling of relief left your choked up throat in a bated breath. the exhale feeling as if you were being freed from something. being seen.

"[name], my sweet darling baby," she caressed the top of your head. it was instinct to lean into her touch, even though at the moment you couldn't sort out how you felt towards her.

she's protecting you. the words whisper in your ear, like a disease that is incurable, like a predator that sinks its fangs and refuses to let go.

"mommy wants you to stay home with her. please consider it. it's so dangerous out there, and i really don't want you to get hurt," she cooed. it made you feel sick and you hated not knowing why. even though her words were meant to console you, they only made you want to run.

your eyes were glued to the dirty mat that you and your mother refused to clean, maybe because it was the most familiar thing in this constant changing house. there were five pairs of shoes, you, yaga, and mother and two unworn pairs off to the side, both meant for other occasions, better ones. ones that don't include the ringing of your ears and the well of your tears as they collect on your lashes. maybe it's an occasion where you're at a nice dinner with your mom, a rare treat whenever she deemed herself in the mood.

the bigger pair of shoes shifted. yaga.

"miss ogawa. i don't mean to overstep, but have you considered you're babying your 15 year old child? maybe you need to consider that she can make her own-"

"don't you dare tell me how to parent my own damn child." her voice is dripping with venom, the venom that seeps through you and whispers in your ear.

i just want to protect you.

your mothers anger was never a calm one, it was loud and furious, voice bouncing off the walls as she tried restraining herself from getting violent. so hearing her talk to the man in such a familiar tone had you quivering in her hold.

your mother, never under the assumption that she could ever be the reason you were upset, deduced that your shivers were caused by yaga.

so she glares, long and hard, and her lips move to form the words you were dreading, "my daughter is not attending your shit school. get out of my house.”

...

other than the sound of life beyond the door, there only laid cold, anxious silence.

you were afraid to look up, your mother's shirt being your only anchor. but from the resigned sigh that left yaga's lips, you were well aware of the expression he was making — one of anger, and disappointment. realizing that seeking you out was a waste of his time.

or so you assumed.

for he could only look at you in pity, acknowledging how painful a relationship like this must be for you, and in longing, hoping foolishly that he could lend a helping hand.

a rough calloused hand entered your vision, a piece of ripped paper in the grip of his fingers.

yaga gestured it towards you patiently, a look of sorrow marring his usually calm expression. "if there's a change, please call this number."

your mom ripped it from his grasp right before you could touch it. she crumpled it in her hand. "there won't be a change. now get the fuck out of my house."

you could only stare in horror at your mothers fist that held the only thing that could possibly change the trajectory of your life. even as yaga bowed and turned around, even as the door slammed shut behind him. even as mother soothed you with quiet coos meant for a baby, even as she turned towards the kitchen to start on dinner, even as she sat you down and commented on your silence. even as she watched you absentmindedly pick on your food, even as she started to become agitated at your lack of response, and even as she treaded up the stairs to her bedroom. your eyes stayed glued to that one hand.

you blinked, eyes dry and mouth parched as you suddenly remembered that you weren't at the front door anymore while your mother cradled you in her arms.

your eyes drift to the front door, and you approach it slowly. you don't know why you stand there or why your hand touched the door knob.

maybe it's because you're hopeful that the man is behind this door. waiting patiently for you to open it, prepared with the words of acceptance. maybe something amongst it that helps you figure out what the hell to do.

"a school of them." you whispered, the only thing capable of leaving your dry mouth.

there was a school of them. proof that you really weren't alone in this cursed world. how could you possibly go back to the difficult life of acting as if everything was normal when it wasn't? blue auras were around everybody, and the grotesque creatures festered from the negative feelings surrounding those people. and there were those out there who knew how to get rid of those things for the sake of others.

knowing all of this, you couldn't stand by and not lend a hand, not learn to control the one thing that's burdened you your entire life. but..

you looked up the stairs, seeing just the top of your mothers door.

what would she do? she needed you. you both took care of each other, you couldn't leave her behind.

but you needed this. you wanted to figure all of this out. control theses abilities and hopefully get to know people who were just like you. and... you could always come back.

yeah.

who said you had to stay? you would go, go to jujutsu high, reach your goals, and return to your mother.

because even though you may make friends with those of similar backgrounds to you, your mother was a constant in your life, never changing. you couldn't abandon her. you wouldn't.

so with this new resolve in your heart, you snuck up to her room. she kept her door creaked for unknown reasons, maybe to keep an eye on you, but you ignored that and thanked its convenience for this very moment.

she was asleep. snoring.

you treaded carefully over to the bed, eyes focused on the bags growing under her lashes. the sight made your lips twitch into a small frown. you delicately tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. listening to her steady breathing as she dreamt the night away.

"wait for me, mother.”

you turned away and grabbed the piece of paper off of her nightstand, leaving the room with a sense of urgency.

you dialed yaga's number after locking your bedroom door, pacing around in circles as the phone rung. the ringing resonated in your ears like a ticking clock. you didn't really have time. if he wouldn't answer now you'd never get your chance.

your mom was an early bird and you could already feel yourself getting drowsy.

"i mean. who even calls this late. he might be asleep..." you whisper defeatedly and pull the phone away from your ear to hang up, but it lights up with his icon and you jump in excitement.

"miss. ogawa?"

"masamichi-san. it's [name]."

Dear mother,

I've departed, something I'm sure you noticed. As much as I wanted to obey you, I couldn't just abandon the opportunity that could help change my life for the better. I know you were trying to protect me, and I know that it's dangerous. But I can't live knowing that my life could be different. I can't just sit by and watch this spark of light dim, let my world go dark again. I'm not like you, mother. I will not stay ignorant. Wait for me, please.

I lov-

a loud shrewd rip echoes through the quiet house. your mother's eyes are dull, face empty as she starts furiously ripping the paper to shreds.

she suddenly screams out in anger, tears of frustration bubbling and blurring her vision. she grips her hair in agony as she starts chanting curses.

"dammit dammit, dammit!! i told her it was dangerous. i told her. damn her!! good for nothing daughter... not listening to a fucking word i say!!"

your mom stomps angrily out of her room, not caring for the small pieces of paper she tramples over.

"I love you,"

"mother."

[beomnoullistheorem]

MORNING KISSES!

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Non-idol AU — Boyfie!Yeonjun × Girlfie!Reader

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Appetizer — You can't kiss your boyfriend without him teasing the life out of you even when he is asleep.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Disclaimer — This is PURE FICTION : Nothing in this work aligns with the idols' character, moral and their real life. The characters are all legal adults ( 18+ ) and everything happening around & to them is entirely consensual. Readers are humbly advised to read the Contains and Disclaimer before they read.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Word Count — 2.3k+ (bye)

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Contains — FLUFF, minor friendly! kisses (my obsession with kisses and his lips at peak), a little of flashbacks, hyper reader ig, soft Yeonjun, flirty yeonjun, and of course as title says— a lots of kisses, banter in the end ig, a little cuddling and kissing almost taking turns to make out(?)

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Noulli's Note — as a proof I am alive and this thought randomly mushroomed when I was about to sleep so boom! I had fun writing this really, I'm the one who complains writing is harder than physics but this one changed my mind~ my first full-fldeged intended fluff, hope you all like it <3

Uh well. I wrote this in sheer brainrot (the quickest fic I have ever worked on in less than 24 hours) I'm too scared but Idk why. The ending is again half-assed (T^T)

Your eyelids flutter open when sunlight directly slaps you in face at dawn, groaning and cursing at the sun to- "lower your brightness, sun!" It is the best night you have ever had and sun can't be so cruel to cock-block it so soon, it is your first night (actually morning) with him, afterall.

The rods in your eyes can barely contain the light seeming to flash into your eyes. You await some kind of butterflies or birds to fly over in your room and spread the curtains like in the Cinderella.

...

Well no birds or flies seem interested in closing curtains for you, the fact still not settling in your morning head.

"Ugh, wish I was Cinderella.."

Your mind surely is taking time to yet work, until you deduce that no one is gonna block the sunlight for you. To avoid yourself of the struggle you turn to other side, to your boyfriend for almost two weeks now, the best and the only blessing in your life.

He is also the tease master who has given you heart attacks last night with his cheeky lines and cuddles.

Yeonjun is made to cherish his beloved with everything in his will and ability— his actions especially servicing and romantic to his sweetheart (aka you (me too)), he knows exactly when and how easily to trigger your heart and have you burst into a reaction bomb of squeals.

It isn't that you're passive in love, your hyper reactions just swell his heart and motivate him in a way that he feels worthy to have you. Hence, teasing you is his side profession in your relationship where he takes a fine a share of delight in it.

It is not your first time to have fallen in love, yet your heart is explosive at any of the things Yeonjun does to you: from the little carding of hairstrands behind your ears to soft kisses, anywhere, on you. And he loves that about you, almost exploding into your squeals and laughter that he is all heart eyes to binge watch.

As if kissing the back of your hands as a pledge to treasure you forever had not robbed you off the ability to speak when Yeonjun asked you, "will you be my girlfriend, darling?" Your heart had almost combusted out at the soft touch of his lips, for almost a second your hands wished to be glued there, at his mouth. It had taken minutes for you to say yes.

The first kiss wasn't as embarrassing as establishing your relationship — his lips saying hi to yours for the first time was something really soft. His lips were more plushy than the plushies themselves, so plump, so sweet and so wide— capturing yours into his lips was so natural, it felt like once in, never out.

It had you wanting to continue for long, your lips finding home onto his. Hardly letting him pull off of your lips, you had him breathless then and everytime you kissed him. He has consumed you wholly since then — from the thought beginning your day to the ones ending it, he has become your everything.

Yeonjun certainly does own your heart rentfree, but his lips swarm the whole of it.

Developing a soft spot for his lips can't really let you miss this sight when you turn to him: he is facing you; deep in slumber while his hands seem lonely, resting on the mattress with nothing to grope on or drape around; his lips plumped as if they already aren't and his closed eyes with his pretty lashes painting their shadows at under eye.

Yeonjun is cute, his feather like lineaments to always doted on, but this is... something else.. a sleepy frame so adorned with beautiful hair ornamenting his glowing face resembling a sparkly water under sunset. The tiniest features on his face meet the light, the smallest of minute acne on his cheeks, facial hair highlighted, his adam's apple and collar bone glimmering along his face, he looks so extraordinarily gorgeous.

Your heart is doing gymnastics with excitement at max, your lazy sleepiness immediately whooshing away at the sight your eyes refuse to blink at.

How is he so beautiful, and why- mine? are the thoughts beatboxing at perfect sync with your pounding heart, the said beat drumming in your own ears to blur out the noises of chirping sparrows and beeping traffic down your building.

You are zoned out in him, your eyes seeming to photograph all his beauty into your memory, your cognizance capturing every little detail at its finest bit by bit. You don't even seem to have the mind to grab your phone under the pillow & actually photograph it, when your eyes now discover his rosy lips.

Are there rose petals under the skin of his lips? you mindlessly wonder when your hands work faster than your impulses do and trace his lips but you retract. You can't touch him so he wakes up and barely give you any chance to adore him peacefully by flirting the hearts out of you. He is so mesmerizing, everything blurs around him, forming an enhanced portrait of him.

"He is.. so ki-kissable!" A little squeal already escapes your mouth before you could even process it and you turn away, calming your palpitations almost bursting out those not-so little squeals and laughters of excitement which will waken him, undoubtedly.

Palming at your heart, almost strangling your chest and exhaling as noiselessly as you could, you face him again, hoping you'd relax but your cheeks are the best place for crimson tints to happily color at, in these moments with your boyfriend.

His plumpy lips are glossed by sunlight, urging you from the cores of core with alarms "kiss him!", again & again banging in your head. Your gulp your saliva down, your lips eventually feeling tingly all of a sudden now that you're close to his face, in the blink of an eye.

At such proximity, his little snores backed up by his soft raspy voice isn't missed by your sensitive ears, saving it all to your memory.

It seems like you can't find any peace from your insides so you plant your lips at his, your eyes closing shut and your heartbeat exploding yet calm enough to let you savor this moment, stealing a soft kiss from your sleepy boyfriend who is so gorgeous bathed in the rays of dawn.

His pout perfectly houses your lips, you're now lost in its touch stirring so much bliss inside. It is the way you're bewitched with just his soul, his existence, flush & explode at his flirtings, gladly let him rule and reside in your heart.. you would actually admit that he has you wrapped around his finger (but never to him).

Seconds do not hesitate to turn into minutes, yet you're slow as ever, kissing him as if the time in the world is all yours, hands already toying with his hair. You pull back in realization, getting touchy will out your mischief. You glance at him, he is still unfazed. He must be sleepless from the way you've entertained him with your puny attempts to flirt back till midnight.

His snores are still ringing in your ears with his warm breath fanning your face. You are still inable to actually turn away and wake up when you're swamped adoring his little features like the way his mole at his cheekbone sinks into the pillow the more he curls into himself in sleep, or the way he has no idea you've kissed him like that and sleeping like a cute duck.

The fact once again immersing you in your profession of staring holes into your boyfriend in adoration. So immersed that you don't really observe his smirking lips.

"No more kisses, angel?"

With Widened eyes, an audible gasp, you're turning away in an audible, flamboyant(-ly uncool) manner – entertaining that tease of a cunning fox who was awake all this time. So flushed and barely able to utter, you turn your back at him.

"Y-You weren't sleeping all this time, jjunie!?" You no longer have any idea if you're accusing him or actually questioning him.

"You kiss so good that sleeping felt wrong." His slender fingers drape around your arm and already begin to turn you back to face him, while you're resisting with all your might to hide your flushed face and your poor self, suffering with a mini heart attack again.

"So pretending to be asleep felt good?" You finally croak out, your voice barely audible. You feel so embarrassed, he has been awake this time, drinking in all your messy features and your puny mischief of trying to kiss him— no, kissing him.

"You were kissing so good assuming I was asleep," he rasps softly, laughing in the end. "Of course that felt good."

"I'll feel better if you kiss me again, by the way," he whines with groggy voice sounding utterly awful to you. How is he still so good at teasing you so early in the morning?

"..."

"Oh come on, now! kiss me more!"

You've almost begun to shed your remorses to have taken advantage of your boyfriend like that before he has 'no more kisses, angel?'-ed you & your heart almost popped out at his sudden rise at your kiss.

Yet his whines are a little too adorable, you wish to listen to them more even with that little pang of regret to have him whine like that when you're the one who has begun this. He is acting so entitled, that just encourages you to tease him more.

Hiding your laughter at his whines is a little tedious when he is already wriggling you with his super strength already, shaking you vigorously to have you facing him.

After a few more struggles, he successfully faces you to him, you still refusing to look him in his eyes to hide your smiling face. Not that he is able to open his eyes as wide as an owl in the sunlight, yet he still doesn't stop his little groans and whines that you don't look at him.

"That was the best good morning I've ever gotten and you're refusing to give me more of it?" His fingertips play at your lips which you instantly slap away earning a lazy 'ow!' from him.

Even after waking up where our system takes a tad bit of time function well, Yeonjun really does awaken the butterflies in your tummy with his witty way of titling your mischief with the 'best good morning' right after he has awakened.

That feels really good to listen, your heart and you in sync with simping thoughts.

"Please, Baby? Kiss me again?" He pouts now, voluntarily, plumping his lower lip up in dramatic sadness as he looks down. You can't contain your laugh until you pull him in a kiss again. Smiling as a kid who's gotten his candies as he asked, it is rather Yeonjun taking it to a further step.

Yeonjun is already so into kissing you, his lips now playing at yours, brushing at them ever so softly that it tickles on yours lips. Your hands relax on his nape while he takes the charge, hovering over you and relishing on every corner of your lips.

He is so adept with these skills, that simple nibble of his lips on yours could have you weakened from head to toe, all pliant for his lips traversing from your cheeks to your jaw. He is so perfect on top of you, lacing his fingers with yours and showering so many giggly smooches at your neck. Purposely he traces a little of his teeth on your neck, earning breathy gasps and praises from your honeyed voice.

His lips are never chapped, thanks to you always kissing and biting onto them, softening them from time to time. The said lips begin tickling and marking your jaw with marks that blush at his lips.

You face him towards you again, your lips are already missing his playful smooches. Kissing him is so different to him kissing you, the feel so playful and so.. good. It is normal to crave more at this point but to actually cuddle your lips with his, yet he doesn't let you think of anything.

His kisses so teasing that they feel so not enough yet too good to stop. It is when you think you can collide in his lips more, parting them for him to prod inside, he parts away displaying his swollen lips.

You shoot him a 'why did you stop' look with your half-lidded, kiss-needy eyes, until he opens his mouth. Uttering the most annoying words ever, and ruining the mood as the yeonjun-usual of today.

"Should brush, you stink."

Seconds before there were lovey-dovey flowers budding and blooming inside of you but now it feels like your boiler could burst at any second at his words, your shyness and a little embarrassment already craving you with the sheer desire to be swallowed by the bed monster.

Rosy tinges on your face fade with the smile containing raging volcano forms on your face, your nerves popping a little and asking him to say that again, which he does so, again, plopping beside on the bed, with a smirk dancing on his face.

"You need to brush, angel~" stressing on the need to brush and adding a taunting tone at the angel to mock you, he sighs at you. "You stink."

"As if you smell like flowers," you scoff at him, counting down to 10 to calm your boiler. "Who wants to kiss your inflated stinky lips? they're too bad to taste."

Yeonjun observes you pouting your lips and cursing at him as you get off of the bed and fold the blankets, throwing so many scolding at his face at every lock of your eyes with his. It is that same hearty smile that forms on his lips when he watches you with heart eyes.

"You. You can't seem to let go of my lips," he proudly boasts at your soft spot for his lips. He is spot on with his come-back, so true that you almost give in admit defeat.

Damn fox, so kissable and so annoyingly right.

"Brush," he demands concealing his laughter. "Will you, with me?"

"YeAh."

I ain't kissing him for the rest of my life, you rage inside.

"After breakfast let's make out, love."

"Okie."

[queenphanessa]

Hi, I hope you're having a good day! ^-^

Can I request Arlecchino x Fem!Reader? Maybe suggestive fluff where she gets possessive and does marking/biting on reader?

Note: Thank you! I hope you're having a good day too! I'm sorry I took a while with this! 😭 I hope you like it!

The Knave was not an easily troubled woman. If she can weather foes, her workload as a Harbinger, the rowdy orphans under her care, and her own irksome colleagues, then something like a few unworthy eyes gazing upon you was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

From her room at Hotel Debord, she looked out her window and saw you. You were so cute with the way you were indulging in your pastime of observing some clockwork meka on this hot sunny day, smiling as they delicately served you macarons that had been provided by the President of Spina Di Rosula.

Speaking of the president, she sure had an eye for fashion, didn't she? Thanks to her, you were adorned in a frilly corset top and a skirt that barely came above your knees. You were nothing but sweet smiles and giggles as Navia posed with you—standing a bit too close to you for Arlecchino's liking, but she deemed her to be harmless—while one of her bodyguards took a picture of you both.

Yes, you were indeed a lovely sight. And it seemed that numerous onlookers thought so as well. Those at the nearby cafe drank you in along with their coffee and people who were in the process of making wishes at the fountain paid no mind to the coins that were carelessly slipping from their fingers as they leered at you. Arlecchino followed the direction of their gazes—only a few of them for the sake of her mood—and realized they were paying close attention to the swell of your chest that your top accentuated and generous sight of your luscious thighs that came into view as you walked to share treats with Spina Di Rosula's president. You certainly were a feast for the eyes.

But a feast that only her eyes were worthy of devouring.

Later that evening, you went to her hotel room to visit her. Being seen visiting a Harbinger at night might cause some whispers, but your beloved was set to leave Fontaine first thing in the morning, so you just had to get as much time with her in as possible.

The second you went through the door, a familiar set of blackened arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Darling, welcome." The Knave wasted no time. She was quick to lock the door behind you before returning her attention to you and peppering your neck with kisses. "You enjoyed yourself today, no?" She toyed with the frills of your top, twirling them around her finger until it was pressed against where your nipple was. "I simply adore your new outfit."

"O-Oh, yes..." You couldn't help but stutter when she got touchy like this. "Miss Navia has been very kind to me."

Arlecchino hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps a little too kind." She gave your top a little tug. "It's a lovely outfit she put you in, but it's much too enchanting. Something like this," she tugged harder, exposing one of your breasts and cupping it in her hand, prompting a small squeak from you, "should be illegal to be seen by eyes other than my own." Marveling in the flustered state she put you in, she slowly dragged her tongue along your neck, before biting down. "In Fontaine's land of ludicrous laws, that shouldn't be out of place, right?" The following morning, Arlecchino had already left Hotel Debord and you were left alone in bed with the sheets wrapped around your naked body in lieu of her loving arms.

But it wasn't as if she had left you without any... "mementos".

When you woke up, the first thing you did was head to the bathroom. And there you saw them and were reminded of the Knave's seldom seen mischievous side.

Where kisses once graced your neck lay a trail of bite marks with the Knave's favorite shade of lipstick, going from your neck, your collarbone, and even to your breasts.

Of course, the thighs that Arlecchino always gave her affection to were not missed. Not a single place on your thighs was left without a bite mark with special attention having been given to your inner thighs. On her way back to Snezhnaya, Arlecchino received word from one of her informants in Fontaine that her lover was quite flustered and indignant to the point of angrily shouting her name.

All Arlecchino could do was chuckle and look forward to the next time she would mark her territory.

[plutosfallenangel]

Astro thoughts + takes | Random observations

(*from personal experience + knowledge, please do not copy+paste as these are my own words*)

• Uranus aspecting one's moon can make them prone to mood swings, yes, but I never hear about how this aspect can make it easier to overcome tough emotions. Since Uranus represents innovation + breakthroughs an individual with a moon-uranus aspect can power through them quickly, and sometimes in very odd ways. Can have different coping mechanisms than most around them.. one that will really stand out apart from the rest. Now, keep in mind that this can be great in many ways.. zipping through emotional turmoil can be a breeze for these people, they just have to make sure to slow down once and a while and ACTUALLY process what they're feeling. Those with moon sextile uranus can actually work through tough emotions when they get outside of their comfort zone.

• Moon sqaure saturn can indicate emotional immaturity until the individual works on their relationship with authority / authority figures, amongst other things..

• Neptune square asc can give one the desire for escapism through substance, any harsh aspects neptune makes to the moon or venus can also indicate this (no hate.. I have this aspect)

• Virgo mars and planning when to have xxx (this is where they clash with fire/air mars signs.. they thrive off spontaneity which this mars lacks unless the chart indicates otherwise ofc)

• Mars in the 6H and being turned on not by a specific area of the body, but what sensations can be created by it (nervous system)

• Mars in libra vs being turned on by reciprocity

• An unevolved lilith in libra/7H can be the typical womanizer/maneater until they learn that there's power in standing on their own, not feeling complete only when in a relationship. some may use others to try and "heal" themselves too

• Virgos actually spend their past time connecting the dots

• One of the things that cancer and taurus placements share in common is that they'll be in a DEEP sleep, wake up, and randomly start making a 4-course meal (yum, can I sleep over?)

• The galactic center of the milky way is stationed in the constellation of sagittarius, which has up to 400 BILLION stars.... and you still wonder why they act like that?

° Saturn conjunct asc means everyone giving you responsibilities because you always look like you can handle them (even if you can't or the responsibilities have nothing to do with you) however, in return it does grant the individual with passing authority (I also have this.. even when I'm not the one "in charge" people come to me like I am)

• The house that Saturn is in can show you which area of life you'll feel most restricted in (ex: 3H- trapped within the local community or bound to siblings in some way. 10H- bound to work, restricted in some way to get away from it. 12H- trapped in your mind/subconscious)

• Sun in 8H individuals may gain more recognition after death / possible famous after death ( check for more fame indicators )

• Scorpio + 8H placements will put people through trials and tribulations because they want to see if they are worthy enough to see their innermost self and deepest desires. this is because these placements experience the most rebirth (and their own trials and tribulations... quite often), they want to make sure you love them down to their very core, so when they morphe into their next "self", you won't leave

• When the south node transits the 7H one will notice past-life partnerships coming back into their present life. Note that this may not always come in the form of a lover.. but if it does.. your working on releasing patterns of behavior with said person. Unfortunately, once the transit south node exists the 7H there may be a parting of ways. This could be completely flipped however, some may meet a past life partner that they end up working on these patterns together and stay together (depending on synastry). And then you even have some people who will experience repeating events and patterns from outside forces but don't actually align with a specific past partner. As of right now taurus risings are letting these lessons wrap up, if you are a Taurus rising comment below with your take on this! Scorpio risings are shedding an old identity.. I know this can appear to be typical Scorpio behavior but because this is affected by the nodes, it's a deeply submerged part of themselves they're FINALLY learning to let go of and release control. Let me know if this resonates- Scorpio risings! 🫶

• Whichever house the south node transits in your chart will be the area of life you will experience "letting go" of what no longer serves you (Ketu=deflation)

[charles-leclerc-official]

Would you say Schumacher bled Ferrari? (This is a genuine question I'm not trying to get you into messy shit) This was simply inspired by that one tumblr text post: (https://www.tumblr.com/mugellocircuit/713170981288607744/i-hate-ferrari-and-i-love-ferrari-i-love-ferrari?source=share)

And how they say "Michael loved Ferrari and Ferrari loved him back". I hope Ferrari loves Charles the way it loved Michael, I hope they help him bring that same glory back to the team and back to Maranello.

Follow up question is, do you think there's ever been a driver who lives, breathes and bleeds Ferrari like Charles does? Because I genuinely don't think I've ever seen any other driver with quite that amount of devotion to a team (a cult)

I think there have been many drivers who feel this way. They are usually the ones who had the commitment to stay with the team even through the hard times because in their mind it was worth it. Ferrari can be a demanding mistress but she gives glory to those who are truly devoted to her.

I think Charles is unique in the sense that he's for sure the first one in a long time to truly be the most openly insane about Ferrari. Like concerningly insane, and of course that resonates with us Tifosi, because we too are insane. Ferrari do love Charles as much as they love him and they are doing everything to give him a championship worthy car.

However I do not think he is alone, Ferrari has a way of just getting to drivers in a way no other team does. If there is one thing I can be certain of is that Ferrari will have another driver who is as devoted to the team as Charles. It's just what the red car does to people.

Some of my favorite quotes from Ferrari drivers(current and former)

"A part of my heart will always be red." - Michael Schumacher "Without my team I am nothing" - Michael at Imola 2000

Michael had his good times and his struggles at Ferrari but he is only ever saying one team has a place in his heart. That quote from Imola is especially emotional because 2000 was his first Ferrari championship(he didn't know it at the time) and to be there at Imola and just love the whole team and appreciate what that race means. I feel like that says a lot.

"People don't know exactly how much I love Ferrari. I won my only title with her." - Kimi Raikkonen.

Given the man he was and the many struggles he had with that team people didn't outwardly see the love he had for that team the same way they do with someone like Charles. But a man like Kimi stayed with that team as long as he did because he loved them. He doesn't say much, and complains a lot, but in the end he is still in love with Ferrari. (Also note his use of her yeah that man was so gone for the red car)

"For me Ferrari is my heart, Mercedes my wallet" - Niki Lauda

Niki telling it like it is. Most other teams are just that, other teams. A fast car and a paycheck. Ferrari is the team that you take with you as a driver forever, the only team, the only car that actually meant more than the surface level adrenaline of racing and winning.

"Once you have raced for Ferrari you will remain a Ferrari driver forever" - Stefan Johansson

"There are a lot of fairy tales about Ferrari and how it feels to drive a red car. In the end I can only confirm these fairy tales." - Sebastian Vettel

There is a mythical reverence drivers have for the team. At least the ones who truly feel a deep connection to Ferrari. Simply getting to drive that red car is a spiritual experience for many.

"The red car, even before I knew it was called Ferrari, was my obsession" - Charles Leclerc

"When I dream of being world champion one day, in my mind I wear a red racing suit and get out of a red car" - Charles Leclerc

"Ferrari is my life" - Charles Leclerc

"Ferrari means to me everything . . . it is an incredible honor to be a part of this team that now became a family . . . now my own dream remains, a dream that writes itself in red." - Charles Leclerc(2024 and beyond contract renewal announcement)

He composed music to Ferrari. He loves F1 but it doesn't make sense in his head unless he is in a red car and in a red suit.

I will end this section with the one and only quote:

"Everyone is a Ferrari fan. Even if they say they're not, they are Ferrari fans." - Sebastian Vettel

Forza Ferrari

[periprose]

Hello dear! My request for you is: TASM Peter Parker + IDFC by Blackbear. I think the music fits perfectly in the dilemmas of Peter and fem!reader. What do you think? Thanks ;)

ahhh this is the best idea ever!! I love this song lol thank you for requesting it!

note: I'm writing Peter as the person feeling the emotions of the song

/

Peter watches as you get more inebriated. God, how many drinks could you throw back, the burning amber liquid seeming to have no effect on your throat?

His jaw clenches as he watches you giggle, snort, stumble over your words towards Flash. Flash Thompson, big blonde jock, not worthy of your attention, not like this. Flash would never know how much pining and groveling Peter had done just to get you to look at him the same way.

And last week? You did. You smiled at him, as if he was the only person in the world, the only guy worthy of your attention. You smiled and Peter's stomach exploded with butterflies and nausea and all those typical feelings that Uncle Ben had always told him would happen.

You certainly don't remember any of that right now. You're drunkenly giggling- your face reaches closer to Flash's own at the dinner table, and Peter cringes as he tries to look away, heart shattering as Flash combs back a piece of your hair. He knows- he knows- you might as well have been another pretty girl at Flash's disposal, and that he would never treasure you as you should be.

Flash licks his lips, and Peter feels himself give in. To the anger that he swore he'd never feel- the agony he feels because he's always thought you liked him. That one day, you would put a resolution to this dynamic you had with him- he just never thought it would be like this.

Peter gets going. He takes his bag, his camera, everything he brought for your stupid party, and heads out the front door, slamming it a little too hard.

Flash moves, perturbed. "Looks like that psycho is getting into one of his moods again."

"Oh, no..." You don't know why Peter's run out the door like that, but you let go of Flash, who to his credit, doesn't really mind.

"Peter, Peter!" You call after him, wrapping your arms around yourself. It's cold outside and your drunken stupor does not help.

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk. The street light illuminates him, and you don't notice how Peter's hand is balled into a fist.

"Hey. Why are you leaving, what happened?" You look up at him in confusion.

Peter can tell you're still too drunk to really talk things out with him. The fact that you're even pretending to care with him right now hurts. But despite that... he still wants you to lie to him. To be compassionate- even if Peter knows it's fake, he feels like it's better than nothing.

Unfortunately, you're still rather drunk, and Peter has to steady you with the most chaste of touches. He watches as you stumble over your words, not once, not twice, but three times of trying to work up something to say. And he just... he doesn't want your half-assed, drunken pity.

He knows for a fact you don't love him. That it was a fake dynamic concocted by his own idiocy.

"P-Peter?" You mumble up at him. "I don't want you to be unhappy with me. What's wrong?"

Peter shuts his eyes, feeling embarrassed to have to comfort you, but he doesn't know what else to do.

"Nothing's wrong. I didn't have anything to do at the party, so I thought I'd go back home." Peter shrugs as if it was completely nonchalant on his part. "No offense, but I was bored out of my mind. And I don't fucking care enough to exchange niceties and make other people feel comfortable."

You flinch, and Peter feels bad for just a moment. Just a second. Becuase you're not sober, so you're not in the best state of mind.

But he's been playing the fool this entire time, and he thinks it would be nice if you felt the same for a bit. Just for a day or two. He really doesn't care to see what you get up to at your fun, cool party, with fun, cool drinks and slutty, slutty hook ups.

"I... I'm sorry. If I knew that..." You swallow, looking down at the sidewalk, feeling humiliated by Peter's comments. You've always tried to be a good friend for him- you've always wanted to do right by him.

But something about the coldness in his tone right now tells you to back off. And you do so, with a lump in your throat.

"I would tell you to stay, but, um..." You shake your head. "Have a safe walk home."

Peter nods tightly and moves quickly, telling himself that he doesn't care. He didn't see the tears hanging from your eyelashes. He does not care especially because you're willing to tamper with his feelings so much.

He thinks that you'll be fine. You'll have Flash whispering sweet nothings into your ear, pressing kisses on your cheek and neck, and you won't ever pay him mind ever again. He represses the urge to go and make things right- go and fix things so you won't end up with a douche like Flash.

Peter knows no one has ever cared about him. He knows he's a bit of a nerd, an anti-social weirdo, and even if you made the effort to bridge the gap... he feels it's better this way. Why change?

He works on not giving a fuck. He pretends to not care when Aunt May asks how the party was. He does not lie awake thinking about you in the throes of passion, mouth open, chest flushed and red as Flash begins his disgustingly inelegant thrusts. Especially because it should've been him doing that, him and you together, and since it isn't- he doesn't fucking care.

/

Peter is surprised to see you sitting at his dinner table the next morning.

He's half asleep, but entirely awake when he sees you. Your eyes are bright, misty, a little teary- you have clearly been waiting for him. It looks as if you've spent some time regretting what you did to him.

Good, Peter thinks. Good that you understand how I felt for once.

"Aunt May let you in?" Peter asks, and you meekly nod. Peter doesn't have it in him to scoff at you- you're too clearly upset and he, try as he might not to care, still doesn't want to see you cry.

He thinks for a moment that you might've done so last night.

"Peter. Please, talk to me." You stand up from the table, but Peter isn't really listening, because he's grabbing cereal and a bowl, and trying to ignore you.

"You said everything you needed to say yesterday." Peter shrugs.

"No way. We didn't even get to talk about anything before you ran off." You cross your arms, but your gaze is still soft. "What did I do wrong? Tell me, so I can make things right."

"Sure, tell me a few more of your pretty little lies. That'll help." Peter scoffs with a heaping amount of pessimism, and you look even more hurt than you did yesterday.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Really?" Peter shuts the fridge a little too hard after pulling out the milk. "Okay, play dumb. I don't really care anymore. You've been out all night, probably fucking Flash, and you want me at your beck and call to be... what? Some sort of pushover? Do you have any idea how ruthless it is to mess with people's feelings?"

You gasp, but Peter isn't finished.

"You never loved me. You never even liked me." He shakes his head, getting a resolute look of sadness on his face. "You know how hard it is to be me? Be a fucking loser who has to try so hard to even get people to like him a little bit?"

Peter bites back some of his resentment, knowing that he doesn't want your pity. "Never mind. I don't care, just live your life without me."

"Peter. How can you just-" You inhale, a tight short breath that has Peter feeling that maybe he said too much.

Oh well. Seeing you again had ignited those angry feelings, and even if he pretended not to care- he still needed to speak on it.

"Me and Flash aren't anything. We didn't even kiss, for crying out loud-" You run your hand through your hair, feeling insane. "I'm sorry. I should've watched how close I was to him. I got a little bit too drunk."

"Yeah, you did." Peter snaps back.

"I really, really like you, asshole." You shut your eyes, feeling bile in your throat from how Peter seems to be judging you so harshly. "I thought I did. I don't know anymore. I pretended not to give a fuck because you always- you seem so aloof, Peter, and it was easier to pull away because I didn't want to get hurt- but I'm actually fucking scared of losing you. I guess I should've made that more obvious."

Peter pauses. Feels his heart thump a little harder, this time with immense regret. He loves you, he knows he does, and hearing the same thing from you? The same feeling of inadequacy, of wanting to be enough but having to pretend not to care?

Peter grabs your arm as you try to leave. You're stubborn, but he shakes his head- he looks remorseful.

"I'm sorry." He pulls you into a hug, one that you don't respond to for a moment, until you tentatively hug him back. "I am an asshole. I love you a lot, you must know that. It's not an excuse- I just wanted you to feel as bad as I did."

"Well, mission accomplished." You mumble into his chest. "I'm sorry, too."

"I thought I was like, some fool that was easily duped by a pretty girl like you." Peter admits, and you laugh. "No, really. You're too good for me."

"Let me decide that, Peter." You shake your head at him. "Come on. Why don't we try this again?"

Peter agrees, and thinks now is a better moment than ever to do what he wanted to do yesterday. He combs back your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss there, and then leans in and kisses you, relishing in the fact that you tipped your head back so easily. Just for him, no one else.

[actual-changeling]

I have tried to find a way to word this that isn't accusatory because that is not my goal here, but after writing and rewriting this a dozen or more times I've given up. I'm just upset about it all but I don't intend this to be taking it out on you specifically. I am truly sending it in good faith!

It's been incredibly difficult to be an ace fan with ace headcanons lately because of constant "Let. Them. Fcuk!" shouts from all corners, as though A/C must have sex on screen for their relationship to count. There are many posts insisting all headcanons are valid followed immediately by more posts insisting they have to be sexual creatures because of this or that reason and any thought to the contrary is just wrong. My "favorites" are the ones arguing that because they love human things so much then of course they must want to have sex because all humans want to have sex!

Needless to say as a human who has never once in my life wanted to have sex I find that incredibly othering. It's not the only argument that's been verging hard into acephobic and exclusionary rhetoric lately either.

Ace people can and do have sex. Ace people can also be sex repulsed or just uninterested. Aziraphale and Crowley could easily be any of those things just as easily as they could be sexual beings. What we see in the show and the book are two beings who canonically have demonstrated nothing about their thoughts on sex and sexuality. There are things some take as hints at a sexual nature but those same things can be read as something entirely nonsexual. As Neil said, sometimes an oxrib is just an oxrib. Canonically and textually all that scene shows is the birth of Aziraphale's hedonistic (in the philosophical sense of the term) desires. And yet, as hedonistic as that scene is, it is still not inherently sexual. It's one possible valid reading of the subtext to be sure but also not the only possible valid reading. You can take that scene to mean Aziraphale's gonna screw Crowley's brains out the second they avert Apocalypse 2.0 or you can take it to mean he's gonna drag him on a whirlwind tour of the dessert trays of every good restaurant in town instead. Both are valid interpretations of what Aziraphale going to town on that rib could be representing and neither is more correct. Both readings fit under the hedonism umbrella but true hedonism does not and has never mandated sexual activity. Aziraphale is a fine example of an ethical hedonist and yet his canonical hedonism is not concrete proof that he must want to have sex, as I have seen argued. Hedonism can include sex but it can also be entirely focused on food and drink or art and music or philosophy. Yes, you can be asexual and a hedonist, they are not contradictions in terms.

As a final note I just want to add my own stance on it. I personally think they may be idly curious about sex, perhaps enough to indulge now and then, but it's not something either feels they need in their relationship to feel valid and loved. I also feel I must say that I don't agree with the faction that says they'd be too pure as non-humans to even consider sex as an option. I find that just as othering, in a different way, as saying they must want sex because all humans do.

And so finally I come to my question at the end of all the rambling. If every headcanon is valid as canon does not show their thoughts on sex one way or the other, then why is it fine to see them as sexual and insist it has to be in the show and yet worthy of mocking to see them as ace and to not want a sex scene?

Good faith recognized and accepted, so no worries on that front.

I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to send the message in the first place, it's one of the reasons I always have anon asks on. I don't mind playing middle man (gn) for fandom discussions.

Edit: I just realised I might not have made it clear enough, but I'm alloaro myself, so same hat and all.

If every headcanon is valid as canon does not show their thoughts on sex one way or the other, then why is it fine to see them as sexual and insist it has to be in the show and yet worthy of mocking to see them as ace and to not want a sex scene?

The short answer is that it is not fine to mock or attack people for their headcanons, and I really wish I could tell you that it's simply a matter of kindness or working through some aphobia, but it's so, SO much more complicated than that.

I will try my best to explain my interpretation of why the above happens, but if I lose anyone at any point, don't hesitate to ask questions! Hopefully my red string will hold though.

The problem you describe is not specific to this fandom, it will pop up in literally every single one at some point or other, and in some corners it turn into queerphobia on all sides just being thrown around.

With Good Omens in particular, the canon Neil gives us is incredibly pliable, everything and nothing can apply, and you are not restricted by gendered subtext or implications. It's great! It really is! BUT it also means that people start projecting heavily on a character, headcanoning their specific labels for them, etc. which by itself isn't a problem.

It becomes one when a headcanon that does not align with theirs suddenly feels like a personal attack—as if headcanoning that character as something you aren't is invalidating your identity through that character. I hope that makes sense, simple version is people project a lot, and it gets very messy very fast.

Queer sexuality has a long and complicated history, and I really recommend to everyone to read up on i at least a little. In the media, you usually get one of two depictions of it: predatory or pornographic. Both suck, both are bad representation, both further already existing stereotypes.

However, that means any depictions of queer people that are not one of the above tend to be non-sexual to a point where the intention behind certain choices is very clear. Queer sexuality is bad and dirty, it should be hidden away, and is only allowed to exist if it can be consumed by cishet people or used for their amusement.

So where does that leave us with Good Omens?

Many people are desperate for good representation, myself included, and with the way Neil is writing the show, everything is possible, and some things even likely. He said himself that one of the reasons for the kiss was the destruction of deniability of their relationship.

We need to have queer sexuality on our screens because otherwise it will always be seen as other, and queer relationships will be denied on the basis of a 'lack of intimacy'. It sucks, it is completely inaccurate, and unfair, but that is where we are.

If we take this information and tie it back to the projection issues I talked about in the beginning, I think it's possible to understand the point I'm trying to make.

Suddenly it is no longer the character's sexuality that is not shown but their own, and that opens Pandora's box for all kinds of difficult emotions.

Everything above also applies to aspec people, just that most of us are usually looking for a lack of something rather than a presence, which is not better or worse than wanting queer sexuality explicitly shown. People end up butting heads—and it gets incredibly personal way too quickly—because you have group A, who want to see a sex scene because of above reasons, and then you have group B, who would prefer for that not to happen.

While that's a perfectly fine headcanon to have (and it SHOULD be respect, every hc should be), some people from A will see a post about them never having sex and interpret it (mostly subconsciously, I presume) as an attempt to repress queer sexuality from being shown.

The 'solution' (easier said than done) to the problem is learning when to step back and how to recognize when one is getting too caught up in their character(s)—or simply how to not be an asshole and scroll past something. Tumblr has great blacklist and blocking features, use them, people.

Bottom line, harassing people for their headcanons or other fandom ideas is rude, inappropriate, and makes you an asshole that needs to log off and go on a fucking walk.

[hauntedwitch04]

Fools in love

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: 1,8k words

Warnings: none, just fluff and idiots totally in love with each other

Author’s note: Hi everybody! It fells so good being back, I missed writing and this is the first one-shot I write in a lot of time, so I'm really grateful for every tiny bit of love you gave me. Hope you enjoy the first day of my Halloween Party

Requests are open I Ask

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🎃Halloween party 🎃

DAY 1: “Take my sweater, I love you and i don’t want you to transform into a popsicle”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Rain beats hard against the windows of the Gryffindor common room. The fire near me crackles, and the pieces of wood seem to break like bone after a very hard punch, as my heart probably had a few hours ago.

I've spent a lot of time by the fire, but even so, I can't shake the cold that got into my bones, in the rush in the rain I made to get back to the castle, after waiting for more than two hours for a Ravenclaw boy who asked me out, outside the Mielandia.

I still remember the feeling of the cold wind against my cheeks wet with hot tears. My sweater was now dumped on the sofa, soaked with rain, and dripping rhythmically on the floor, mesmerizing me.

The fire dances before my eyes, and I can't help but feel like two people hugged tightly, dancing to music of their own created by their love.

A little bit I feel stupid in feeling so bad, for a guy who basically I don't even like since I've actually been in love with one of my best friends for what seems like ages now, but I think the thing that has hurt me most of all is not being able to be loved even by this mysterious guy whose name I honestly can't even remember.

For hours now I've been asking myself if I'm really worth loving? Why should people fall in love with me? Am I worthy of someone's love? If I can't even date a guy I don't like, how could I ever date the one I consider the love of my life? And why the hell does Remus John Lupin have to be so perfect?

I spend what seems like days sitting there staring into the fire. I hear people passing by, coming in and out of the dorms, some stop and look at me with compassion, trying to somehow share my pain, while others whisper hypotheses and theories about why I am in that situation. I, however, remain impassive, like a marble statue, the only emotion I allow to shine through are the tears I cannot stop.

It is still a long time before I can glance at the clock without seeing it fogged up by my crying.

Midnight.

I close my eyes and pray for any otherworldly entity to erase my memory of this rainy early October day, when my thoughts are interrupted by a warm hand resting on my shoulder. I turn slightly and my breath catches in my throat for a moment, for fear that the object of my thoughts will see itself reflected in my eyes and be able to read into me, into my soul.

"Lily told me you've been stationary here for more than four hours. I had to practically make a deal with the devil to get Poppy to let me leave early to come to you, luckily yesterday wasn't too bad." He says quietly as he sits down next to me, the famous Remus Lupin, every Hogwarts girl's dream, looking at me softly. Shit, I think to myself, there was a full moon yesterday that's why I didn't see him all day. I hadn't worried about it too much actually before I went to the appointment, too caught up in the anxiety of this meeting, but now I realize what a shitty friend I've been to him. I look at him and see his face battered by sleep and exhaustion, while only a few new scratches or scars adorn his face. My eyes land on his, and selling his worried look I can't help but feel guilty and go back to crying. After a few seconds, I realize that I am not only crying out of guilt, but also out of the realization that he, the boy I love more than my own life, will never see me in the same way that I see him but only as a friend to be taken care of.

His warm hands brush my shoulders and I immediately shiver at that contact. His gaze grows even more concerned and he immediately decides to take off his heavy sweater, one of his favorites that his mother made him last year after his had all grown small when he grew up all of a sudden during the summer. As he takes off the sweater, with his arms still above his head and this one still covered by the garment, his T-shirt, which he wore underneath, rises slightly so that his athletic body covered in scratches can be seen. I feel my cheeks turn red as I look at him, but I am quickly distracted by my friend handing me his sweater.

"Take my sweater, I love you and I don't want you to turn into a popsicle," he says, fixing his hair. His words strike me more pain than a bullet, but I hide my distress behind a bitter smile, and put on his sweater. Immediately I am hit by his scent: chocolate, cinnamon, ink mixed with book pages and cigarettes. I thank him in a thin voice, before returning to silence.

"I guess I understand that the date didn't go very well." He says after a few minutes, trying to figure out if I felt like talking about it, watching me carefully as I played with my sleeves.

"Actually, there wasn't even a date." I reply, chuckling bitterly.

"What do you mean?" He retorts confused, as he moves closer to me, to study me better.

"Well he never showed up. I stood like a moron in front of the place where he told me to meet for a couple of hours, even caught some rain, then when I realized that I was merely making a fool of myself I came running back here, and I haven't moved from here since." I explain quickly, not wanting to cry again.

I see the anger mounting in his eyes as he takes one of my hands between his and brings it to his mouth.

"If anyone has made a fool of himself it's him, honey. He's a fool if he missed an opportunity like this. You deserve so much better, the best person the world has to offer." He says in a whisper as he holds me in his arms, doing nothing but twisting the knife in the wound making me bleed more and more.

After a while he breaks away from that grip and takes something out of his pants pocket, which I discover is a piece of chocolate, and hands it to me.

"Eat, you'll feel better." He tells me, but I shake my head.

"I don't feel like eating, Remmy." I try calling him by his nickname, hoping to soften him, knowing that when he puts his mind to something, it's hard to change his mind.

"Honey, I won't take no for an answer. I care about you, like a sister, and I don't want to not only see you suffer for that moron but also starve to death." He continues, pulling my face up, resting one of his fingers under my face.

I don't know why I feel something breaking inside, as if a pitcher full of water has decided to pour in, and I no longer have control over my words.

"That's exactly my problem Remmy. I'm not crying, sitting here for over four hours for a guy whose name I can't even remember, I'm feeling like I'm dying inside because what happened made me realize that the only guy I've ever really loved in my life will never look at me, if he's not even interested in me even a person who's not even worth a hole in his sock. I've been sitting here for hours crying because I'm afraid that I'm not worthy of being loved, because I'm afraid that I'll have to live with these damn feelings, because I'm afraid that I'll see this boy grow up and fall in love with someone else while I'll still be here, and he'll continue to see me as just a sister, and he just happens to have reminded me of that fact himself just a little while ago." At my last words I see his eyes light up, having realized who I was talking about, after being dark and dull throughout my entire speech. "And now if you don't mind, after screwing up our friendship, I'm going to bed." And I try to get up, but I don't make it in time because a hand encircles my wrist and Remus draws me toward him forcefully, in contrast to his delicate lips brushing against mine. It takes me a few seconds to return the kiss, unsure of what this moment might change between us, before I let myself go completely to him. I bring my hands behind his head, and run my fingers through his hair, while his hands go around my hips to take me on his lap, as we continue to kiss, as if we were suffocating and that was our oxygen.

"I love you, I love you, I've loved you for what seems like forever, and I'm just a coward for not telling you sooner." He says pulling away slightly, so he can breathe before giving me another full kiss. Then he starts giggling, and I look at him shocked, before I start laughing too. We laugh until our stomachs hurt and tears furrow our faces. Remus stands up, picks me up and lays me down on the couch in front of the fire, then lies down next to me.

"We are two idiots." I say, chuckling some more. "We are so stupidly in love that we didn't realize each other's feelings."

"We're all idiots in love, honey." Remus replies, kissing my forehead. "Sirius will never get tired of holding it against me that he was right." He says giggling and hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

"Not even Lily." I chuckle in response as well, before I feel that being held tightly in her arms, sleep is slowly taking over my senses.

"By the way, you look very good in my sweater, honey." Those are the last words I hear before I fall completely asleep.

At that moment, however, neither of us knows yet that our friends will never let us forget the fact that they found us the next morning cuddled on the couch in the Common Room, in front of the fire, and I was wearing the sweater of what would become my husband and the father of my children, to whom Sirius would tell this story and how their parents fell in love and how he and Aunt Lily were right.

[theamityelf]

Do you have anymore insight into more of Makoto and Kamamkurized Taka? I'm not saying Taka's love for Makoto could get obsessive but... 👀

Oh, absolutely!

Taka sees this normal human who was dumped amongst the experimental abominations, this innocent sacrifice laid before false gods, and he has to protect him. At first, it's not a personal thing; it's a rejection of what the scientists are saying by placing him here. That he's expendable, that he's inferior. Taka believes that what Makoto stands for is worthy of defending, but at first he doesn't feel capable of experiencing any emotional partiality towards him in particular.

He makes sure Makoto is safe from the others.

For his part, Makoto is both amazed and horrified by what was done to his friends. Horrified, most obviously, but he's still amazed when they do incredible things so casually. They find his reactions stimulating (just picture a bunch of bright crimson eyes staring at him from every direction; a bunch of uncannily slouching bodies gracefully maneuvering around him), and Taka is entranced by the pure human emotion.

In particular, Makoto's sadness for who they used to be and what they lost.

First of all, Taka loves that this grief proves that he cared about his friends for who they were and not what they could do. If he cared only for their talent, he would celebrate the change. Who doesn't want a pop sensation who can hit higher notes and never tire of concerts? Yet Makoto misses things about them that kept them from perfection.

And second of all, the persisting faith that exists within the sadness! A lot of them tell him point blank that his friends are gone, that only the Izuru Kamukura Project remains in their bodies. He doesn't agree. He insists that his friends still exist in some form, within them.

Taka of course tells him that he can't accept the name of the one who came before him, and asks Makoto to call him by his number, but in those moments that Makoto initially forgets and then corrects himself, he feels the temptation to just take the name, the identity, the friendship. Kiyotaka Ishimaru is gone, but something lives in his body, something which would devote itself fully to being a person if he was just allowed to be. When Makoto tells him about Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and the elements of him that he believes are still alive, he is so tempted.

"You would study together?" the experiment says. He maintains perfect posture, sitting and standing, but his head he angles down, as if to hide his face. He speaks inflectionlessly, but forcefully. Makoto says Ishimaru spoke loudly, too. "For class?"

"Yeah, pretty often. Sometimes in my room, sometimes his, sometimes in the library."

He likes imagining it. Did they struggle together? Help each other? Was Kiyotaka Ishimaru better or worse at math than Makoto? Did he read faster or slower? Did his hand cramp when writing? Did he notice every color in Makoto's eyes and skin like this abomination does?

The group (especially Aoi and Leon) find it entertaining to ask Makoto to do things like peel a fruit or solve a math problem. Just small tasks that they would be able to do effortlessly. For most of them, it's like watching a cat manage to turn a doorknob. Even those of them who don't personally urge him to do things that demonstrate his flaws will stop what they're doing to watch.

Taka watches, but not because he finds it amusing. He finds it beautiful. Human effort, as it should be. He loves Makoto's difficulty peeling an orange, his sluggish long division, his serviceably legible handwriting. His imperfections are worth more than the millions of dollars spent to create these monstrosities. He would– and in fact, earnestly believes they all should –die to protect the way Makoto stumbles over his feet, and the face he makes when he tries to put his thoughts to words.

"You're not abominations," Makoto says firmly. "You're my friends. Old friends or new friends, I don't consider you abominations. Something happened to you that you didn't choose, but you're here now. You're alive, you're real, and you matter as much as anyone else. You're a person."

Taka knows (believes) that Makoto is wrong, but that's alright. Being wrong about things is part of his humanity. Humans can form bonds with all kinds of things– even soulless experiments. It doesn't matter that Makoto is wrong, because his misplaced faith is so human.

Makoto is so human.

As much as Taka knows that Makoto should be among humans, under the sun instead of the laboratory lights, he finds himself becoming just as protective of Makoto's place among them as of Makoto himself.

The thought of Makoto leaving agitates him in ways he cannot justify.

Even if the scientists told him that they were letting Makoto go, sending him back to his family, how could he possibly trust them? How could he believe that they won't either turn him into another Kamukura or kill him to keep the story contained?

One day, one of the scientists asks him to forfeit his time with Makoto, in favor of a few hours in reflex testing, and he refuses. He gives no justification and cannot be convinced.

One day, Junko wraps her arms around Makoto, and Taka dislocates her shoulder, getting her off him. He reacts similarly with Byakuya and pretty much anyone who hasn't demonstrated themself to be consistently safe. Chihiro, Kyoko, Mukuro, and Hiro are pretty much the only ones he trusts to touch Makoto, and even then he's very watchful.

"Your loyalty dooms you," he says to him one night. He sits at the foot of Makoto's cot while he sleeps, like a guard dog, and for once, he speaks quietly. Too quietly for Makoto to hear. "It seems as if you wouldn't leave us, even if we could let you."

Kyoko, in her cot, asks, "Does that make you feel better about the fact that you can't?"

"I'm sure he could," Sayaka interjects. "He was the Ultimate Moral Compass in a past life. Temperance comes naturally to him."

"Hagakure?" Chihiro says. "Can Ishimaru let him go?"

"That depends. Did Owada lead with his left foot or his right foot, leaving the bathroom this morning?" (He's joking; he's just not going to answer the question.)

"Hifumi? Have you seen us letting him go?"

"I'm afraid I'm not in this scene."

"Are you all talking to each other?" Makoto whispers, having not heard pretty much any of that.

"Yes," Taka replies. "Don't let it rob you of sleep. Your body needs rest."

"And your body takes pleasure in knowing it," Junko teases. "Isn't he so human? So pure?"

"Not an abomination at all," Aoi joins in the ribbing.

"Well, there's still time."

"We won't allow that," Mukuro says. "There are more than enough people for them to tamper with; they know better than to touch what has been made ours."

"What are you guys talking about?" Makoto asks. Again, not having heard anything since Taka spoke.

"You," Taka replies.

"Wait, really?"

"What else would we discuss? Again, you mustn't let it keep you from your rest."

"Oh, um, okay...Well, good night, guys."

Some of them respond in kind.

"I wonder if they gave him to us to prevent Ishimaru from eventually blowing up the building with all of us inside," Celeste muses.

"I've had the same thought," Aoi says, and a few of their classmates voice their agreement.

Taka ignores them, just watching Makoto drift toward sleep. He drools in his sleep. So flawed. So human. The drool on that pillow is worth more than everyone else in this room.

He knows that love is a human emotion. A thing Makoto experiences for his friends and family. A thing Makoto should one day experience for another normal human, if he ever wants to get married or...

He knows that what he feels is a perversion of the human concept of love, as much as he is a perversion of a human. He knows it, because imagining a normal human for Makoto to love makes him wish death on this imaginary person, and that's a feeling an Ultimate Moral Compass would never have. He wishes Makoto could have had a life with Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the one he studied with, the one who made human mistakes and followed the rules and tried his best always.

But he doesn't need Hagakure's answer as to whether he'll ever let Makoto go. He already knows.

[yazthebookish]

I absolutely get some readers not liking the potential of Az and Gwyn or even not wanting it to happen because they root for another couple which is absolutely valid. We let off a lot of steam in the past two years but I think we're at a stage where each side should mind their own business.

But this is also a post for the pro-Gwynriel crowd so if that's not your cup of tea, ignore this post. I'm not responsible for you getting upset over reading something you know you won't be happy with.

Disclaimer: I wrote this post based on my own interpretation of the text and the opinion I formed.

Like I said, I absolutely get why some don't see it or won't like it but I do get puzzled as to why when people explain why they see it's potential, it's immediately shot down.

My number one question would be: from a narrative perspective, why would SJM introduce a new female character and place her within Az's circle when there is that whole Elain and Mor thing going on? She absolutely did not need to do that. She did anyways. Whether you think it's platonic or romantic, the book does shift a little focus on Gwyn and Az in some scenes where they are present.

First, let's talk about their history. So it's pointed out that Az is the first person to reach Sangravah and he was the one to save Gwyn. I'm not saying a romance sparked there and it has nothing to do with romance at that stage but it is part of their history. Sarah could've said it's Rhys, it's Cassian, it's Mor, but it's mentioned multiple times that it's Az who saved Gwyn.

We also have the Valkyrie subplot, it's not only Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie that are involved in it but Az is part of it too. Az is brought in to train other group of priestesses since Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie are under Cassian's charge—but what does eventually happen? we start to notice in some of the scenes that there are subtle or not so subtle attention to how Az or Gwyn observe or react to each other. He even trains her personally and I assume on their own at one point.

“Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high.”

One example is this, was this something necessary for the reader to make note of? did we need to know that Az, who was occupied with the other priestesses, turned at the sound of Gwyn squealing from the other side of the ring with an amused expression? this is one of the examples of how the narrative makes sure the reader makes note of this. The argument is not whether it's romantic or not, but these reactions are pointed out to the reader in particular.

So back to the Valkyrie subplot, Az is part of that but not only that, he actively had a part in training Gwyn. Not Nesta, not Emerie, but Gwyn. Why establish that between them? Why make him play a part in her becoming a Valkyrie? That to me is also another connection SJM established between them.

We could have gone the entire book without Az being involved in any of this. But SJM chose to have him involved with the Valkyries' training and Gwyn's in particular, especially knowing that the ending of ACOSF tells us not only Cassian but also Az will continue to train them. He will still be in close proximity with Gwyn and co.

No matter how many times I reread the book it's clear to me that there is a set up. It made me think they're compatible for each other in the way they both are lightly bantering and challenging each other. It did create a potential future for both of them where they develop romantic feelings for each other and I definitely would rather see that happen on page—given that the two females Az have feelings for were abrupt in a way (especially for Elain) and to me there is no organic development to it. He fixated on certain things that seems might make him feel worthy of someone, but they also feed into his self-loath. I think the idea of 3 sisters and 3 brothers reinforced that because like I have said before, it would've been more romantic for me to see him accept Elain with or without her bond to Lucien rather than resent and question it. Because him accepting it makes me think he wants her for her and a bond to another male won't stop him from being with her, but he does make a big deal out of it even though neither Elain or Lucien acted on it so there isn't someone in his way stopping him from being with her (pre-Rhys pulling rank) because he knows Elain has no interest in Lucien (to him).

SJM could have absolutely make Az form no connection or have any sort of interaction with Gwyn the same way he was indifferent and never spoke to Emerie. But that's not what we got so let's talk about the elephant in the room: his bonus chapter.

This is something I've always said, why add Gwyn? the chapter personally confirmed to me the crumbs I picked up on while reading ACOSF and noticing how the narrative shifts my attention sometimes towards Az and Gwyn. Not that there aren't any for Elain and Az, but as I said the bonus chapter confirmed to me what likely Az's storyline is going to involve and focus on.

Theories aside, reading the bonus chapter for what it is and moving past that sad but also miserable first part and finding Gwyn there with her part, it was a breath of fresh air. The wording and Az's emotions during her part made them much more appealing to me because their interaction started out awkward, and then sweet and more light-hearted. She gives him an out he does not take, she smiles at his shadows, his shadows feel calm and content to watch her, the mating bond language (which parallels other mated couples), him going from being frustrated and pissed to him laughing and feeling settled down at the end of his scene with her.

One major thing we got was: he sings. Why does that matter? because she also sings. Theories aside, there is a similarity there that was not needed to be made. But the author made it.

Also, out of all the characters we get after her scene, it's Clotho who shows up. And who is Clotho? Gwyn's guardian in a way. We all agree the necklace move was not a great one but that ending to me had a light romantic coding (theories aside).

Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it.  

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

What started as a depressing and hopeless chapter for Az ended with a beautiful hopeful ending. It ended with him thinking about Gwyn's joy and burying that image deep in his chest where it glows quietly.

To add, Gwyn is the only character in the entire series from what I've read where Az's shadows reactions to her specifically are totally unique. Interpretations of this will differ, but it's there. Why go as far as to make them unique to her?

I will say this again that I'm okay with people not seeing the hints or not liking it, but I do wonder sometimes even when readers highlight all of this (which, everything I mentioned here is from the books) it's met with so much resistance to the point people's reading comprehension is questioned. There is always room for different interpretations, not liking one does not invalidate it and this is something I also try to personally remind myself of.

But my question will always be: why did Sarah have to place Gwyn within Az's circle? even if your answer is they'll probably be platonic it means I'm correct in saying that the narrative did truly establish a connection between Az and Gwyn in ACOSF and his chapter whether they'll be a romantic pairing or platonic friends. There is something there.

[cosmerelists]

How I, Cosmerelists Blogger, Would Handle Each Type of Investiture

It's my wife's birthday tomorrow, and I asked her what kind of post she wanted for her birthday, and she said she wanted me to write a post about myself. [For those of you who used to read Bleachlists, this is entirely due to her love of the "What if BLG replaced Aizen" post back in the day.]

So, uh, here we go!

1. Allomancy: 4/10

Here's the thing: I'm bad at swallowing pills. I have to not only take a sip of water first and hold it in my mouth while I drop in the pill, but I also have to, like, psych myself up to swallow properly. And I know that the metal shards are really small, but I know in my heart that I would have trouble with it. Vin and Kelsier and Wax are, like, chugging vials of metal in the heat of battle. I'd be like, "Wait! Hang on a second; I just need to take a moment here." And then I'd die.

2. Hemalurgy: 0/10

I hate blood. I hate being stabbed even in a blood draw. I capture centipedes alive and take them outside too because even though I don't like them, I would like killing them less. I would not be able to perform or receive hemalurgy. It sounds like the worst possible time.

3. Feruchemy: 10/10

Hell yeah! I wear jewelry and I wish I could use it to store attributes for later, be it health or memory or speed or anything really. And I like that there's no swallowing or stabbing involved!

...This post doesn't have any weird innuendos going on, right?

4. Awakening: 5/10

Awakening would be...fine, I guess? It seems pretty complicated, but I can probably memorize short commands, wear colorful clothing I don't mind draining, and...oh yeah...subsist on the souls of other people? Yeah, I don't know about this one for me.

5. AonDor: 4/10

I'm really not trying to be hard on myself! I am good at many things. But coding is not one of those things, and I get the sense that that's what the AonDor is. Plus, drawing?? I don't have a very steady hand. Do you think they'd accept, like wonky Aons?

6. Dakhor: 0/10

I already have arthritis. :( I don't want twisty bones!

7. ChayShan: 2/10

I don't even remember this one really. But it sounds like it's about precise, circular motion and spatial awareness, and I have to close my eyes and think hard to put on chapstick (don't ask).

8. Forgery: 6/10

I am pretty good at research; I did grad school and all of that. I'm not really artistic though, so the making part of the stamp might be tricky. But learning the long history of an object or person does sound right up my alley!

9. Bloodsealers: 0/10

I don't like blood! Why are so many of these powers blood-powered???

10. Surgebinding: 9/10

I'd love to have a little friend who was with me all the time and deemed me worthy of special powers thanks to my innate worth. No Radiant has ever had a lick of self-esteem, and yet, I feel like that would be very good for one's self-esteem. Plus, I have always wanted magical healing powers, and (metaphorically!) drinking light feels like a cool way to get that.

I don't like heights, though, so I'd shy away from any of those "soaring through the sky powers." Maybe I could be one of those ones that stay on the ground. A ground Radiant.

11. Voidbinding: 7/10

In my head, this is kinda like just "evil surgebinding" but I'm sure it will end up being more than that! It's still basically having a friend who gives you powers, right? Just, the friend is...evil?

12. Old Magic: 3/10

I don't like taking risks. If I knew every wish came with an attached curse, I would be like, "Nah." Like, that isn't even gambling. You KNOW half of it will be bad!

13. Sand Mastery: 3/10

I still haven't read White Sand, but I am a very thirsty person, and I don't want a power that will suck water out of my body, which is how I think this works maybe.

14. Hion: 10/10

Yeah, I mean, this is just humming, bisexual electricity, right? 10/10 no notes.

15. Charred: 0/10

I mean...this is a no brainer, right? Nobody wants their chest, memories, and souls burned away by a very hot ember on a long pointy stick. I'm very white. I get burned by a normal sun.

Anyway, happy (almost) birthday to my wife!

[codenamesazanka]

Reread, Chapter 306 to Chapter 328 (Edgy Deku Arc). How Does Deku Approach Saving Shigaraki? He Doesn't.

If the chapter number is not listed, it's because there's no significant development in the Deku Saving Shigaraki plotline (Deku being absent from chapter/chapter focus is about other things/etc).

Chapter 308:

When confronting Muscular, Deku thinks back to Shigaraki/The Crying Child - imagery is of them overlapping.

Deku does think: "But at least I want to learn what makes [Shigaraki] tick deep down."

When trying to understand Muscular (by asking him three (3) questions about his motives) fails to pan out, Deku says "Seems like this fight is inevitable," recalling his response to Nana about having the resolve to kill Shigaraki if Shigaraki is beyond saving. Then he KOs Muscular.

Chapter 309:

Gran Torino says "Don't be so rigid. Killing can be another way to save someone. Never forget that." Deku, consistent with his own wishy-washy response in Chapter 305 that doesn't take killing off the table, doesn't refute that; also takes Gran's cape as a gesture of carrying on Gran's legacy.

Chapter 310:

Deku mentions Shigaraki only in the context of a threat. "Don't have leads on [the Villains]" "With All For One's quirk transplanted into Shigaraki… he was too strong for us to bring down, even with Endeavor's and Aizawa Sensei's help."

Not Deku, but a note on Kudou - in a flashback to the immediate aftermath of the scene in Chapter 305, Kudou complains about devoting the vestiges efforts to "one who wants to 'save' our mortal enemy", except 1) Shigaraki is not their Mortal Enemy, AFO is? 2) Did Yoichi not made clear just in-universe moments ago that Shigaraki was a victim of AFO's?

Chapter 311:

Endeavor says: "It must be like Deku said... Right now, [AFO's] top priority might be hijacking Shigaraki." Heroes acknowledge that Shigaraki is AFO's possession victim.

Chapter 314

Deku learns about Nagant's backstory. He admits that he was ignorant, but now he's starting to see things clearly - that the world is in shades of gray, a blend of fear and anger. As he says this, among the memories he's thinking of, is Shigaraki's Jaku speech.

Deku also recalls a line from Shigaraki's Jaku speech - "…Swept their pain under the rug… With maggots crawling out." Then says "Which is exactly why I gotta extend a helping hand."

I do consider this Deku reaffirming his desire to save Shigaraki.

Chapter 318

Not Deku, but the vestiges talks about Deku. Nana worries about the burden she has placed on him. Banjo says Deku sees every cause as worthy. Shinomori says Deku seeks to save everyone as a true Hero. Kudou says Deku is choosing the right path.

Is this about Shigaraki? ...Maybe???

...And sadly that's actually it! After Nagant explodes, Deku is Very Angry about AFO. Then he's a one-man Villain hunting machine. Doesn't really spare a thought about Shigaraki anymore beyond "I have to stop Shigaraki and the League."

I'll allow that he's super stressed out and lonely and overwhelmed by the duty he's taken on... but any thoughts about even saving or even understanding Shigaraki or even the Crying Child has evaporated after Muscular.

It's notable that during the Uraraka Speech And Umbrellas Scene, Uraraka gets a flashback to Toga crying when she talks about everyone smiling together in the future, while Shouto and Endeavor think about Dabi as they promise to 'do this together', but Deku gets nothing. In fact I don't think he makes any mention or even thinks of Shigaraki/Crying Child until... Chapter 342.

:

Last on-page declaration of saving Shigaraki Crying Child? Chapter 305

Last solid implication of Deku wanting to save Shigaraki? Chapter 314

Last time Deku thought about Shigaraki in a context that isn't 'need to find him/stop him'? Chapter 314, when he flashbacks to Shigaraki's Jaku speech.

[As always take however much blame you think I'm unjustly putting on Deku to put on Horikoshi doing bad writing.]

[la-pheacienne]

Neither Daemon nor Rhaenyra never actually spoke words "I love you/her/him" about each other. it is not an accusation, just a note. At what moment do you think their feelings changed from familial to romantic and they realized it? I think Rhaenyra had a teenage crush on him even in ep 1. But he probably realized something only in episode 4.

Ohhh this is actually an interesting question anon. Rhaenyra just called Daemon "my love" and said "I want you uncle" and then "I need you" and it's true, nobody said I love you.

So big disclaimer. When you follow a story and a particular fictional romantic couple you always need to pay attention to the context. Context is everything. You can also call it interior logic of the story. Every story has one, and you need to keep that in mind if you want to decide how to feel about certain things.

So the context of that particular story is that you have a little girl, raised in an incestuous family and in an era where girls got married very very young, so they started looking for spouses even younger. This girl has a very cool oncle that gives her a lot of attention and also has all the qualities she admires in a partner, but she can't have for herself because she is a girl. He also happens to be hot. So girl falls for said uncle very very early on. That's canon, no doubt about that, it's obvious even in the show that she is smitten as a teenager.

Then you have a man who has been raised in an incestuous family, who is very loyal to said family and has this burden of not being recognised enough as a second son. This man has a niece that he loves and probably very early on considered that she could be a great partner when she grew older, a partner worthy of him, but unfortunately he got married to someone he didn't choose because politics. Then that niece begins to actually resemble him, in all the ways that matter, and he admires her indépendance and firey personality, he understands that they actually have so much in common and that she sees him, truly. She is also hot. So he's like, wait, not only this girl could be a great partner on paper, I actually want her to be my partner in life. We are meant to be.

And they are. Rhaenyra wants a strong Targaryen by her side, a male warrior and Dragonrider like herself, that is absolutely loyal to her. Daemon wants a strong Targaryen by his side, a powerful Queen and Dragonrider like himself, who is not afraid of him but instead embraces him completely and gives him the family acceptance he craved for. Being Targaryens, they are fucked up in the head, obviously (context) and they are also rulers, so there will be fights and competition and ugliness and spite and maybe cheating but in the context they are meant to be. He dies for her and his family.

So love? What does "I love you" mean after this? I believe it could sound a little corny to say that in their context. I believe that they absolutely love each other but it's better to show it by actions and in the narrative, and not by words. Then we also have this kind of shit

So why do we need an "I love you"?

But to answer your question specifically, I believe that Rhaenyra was smitten with him first, then he was smitten with her when he saw her in 1x04 (before he was just entertaining the idea but not in a serious way) then they made out and both realised that they are actually in love, then shit got real very quickly and after many many years they were finally be able to become one. That's it. This blog does not accept any pedo grooming shit, nor Daemon is only after the throne shit. This is crackhead territory and I won't even bother explaining why. Just look at them and watch the show (this is not at all addressed to you anon, it's a general advice).

Btw the GIFs are not mine, some of them are by @lady-phasma but not all, I hope you will forgive me because I'm trying to spread the word of God here.

[ornii]

I don't know if you have a romance planned for My Bitter Half but I really hope it's Enid.

Hear me out: Y/N Addams is crushing hardcore in Enid but, like his sister, does not really speak from his mind or his heart. So all he can do is be happy as Enid chases after Ajax even though it's painful to paint a smile on his face because she's his best friend and he has to he happy for her regardless of how he feels.

I did plan on Enid ending up being the hall of sunshine in (Y/n)’s dark world, but yes much like his sister his ability to speak his feelings is, lacking.

My Better Bitter half, Part 4

“So, you two have aspirations correct? An author? And actor?” She says, Wednesdays novel seems to be fast growing, and (Y/n)‘a infamous career of acting has head him to be a prodigy of the stage.

“I understand you've written three novels about a teen girl detective, Viper De La Muerte.” Kinbott says

“Can you tell me about her?”

“Viper is smart, perceptive, chronically misunderstood.” Wednesday said.

“Any luck getting your work published?”

“Editors are short-sighted, fear-based life forms. One once described my writing as gratuitously morbid, and suggested I seek psychiatric help.”

“Hmm.” Kinbott notes the info and jots it down.

“Ironic, isn't it?” You say.

“How did you take that?” Kinbott said.

“I sent her a "thank you." I've always been open to constructive criticism.” Wednesday said, only god knows what fate had ended for the citric.

“I'm glad to hear that.” Kinbott said, “And (Y/n), your performance as the star actor of “Hamlet” and “Death of a Salesman.” Were amazingly well received.” Kinbott says, “But your… Performances We’re always a bit, overwhelming in energy.”

“I see that as an absolute win.” You say.

“Good Because I was sent manuscripts and videos as part of both of your psych evaluations.

The relationship I found most intriguing was that of Viper and her Brother, Asriel.” Kinbott Said, you slowly turn to Wednesday, who’s eyes quickly divert from your gaze. “And (Y/n), I watched a Stellar performance of yours in “The Piano Lesson.” Which tells the story of a Brother trying to convince his sister of selling a piano, and it seems your performance was, very impactful.” She says, the siblings grow uncomfortably quiet.

“Why don't we dig into that? Part of this journey requires us going to uncomfortable places emotionally.”

“I don't travel well.” Wednesday begins.

“I get car sick.” You say.

“Would you mind if I use the powder room first?” Wednesday says, and Kinbott nods, Wednesday leaves to the room and he and the therapist are alone.

“Now, (Y/n), I noticed that the play was heavily impacted by your performance. Perhaps you and Boy Willie have more in common?”

“He’s a character I play, nothing more.”

“Are you sure? You both might be older brothers trying to create a better future for your siblings, but fail short, and feel that you have to be perfect in every way, to feel that you’re worthy to be called a “Brother.” She says, (Y/n) stares coldly at her, trying not to show any emotion. He quickly stands up.

“A question, does that Bathroom have a window?” He asks.

“Yes?” Kinbott replies and (Y/n) growls a bit, he storms over to the door and grabs the handle.

“Uh.. (Y/n), your sister is—“

“No, she isn’t.” (Y/n) opens the door to show Kinbott that his sister has escaped, (Y/n) storms off to the door without another word. Exiting the building (Y/n)’s eyes search like an owl, his head twists around to search. The only thing he notices was a coffee place, and saw a shadowy figure enter the facility.

“You little—“ (Y/n) angrily walks over, after sharply bursting into the cafe his eyes quickly lock into his sister, who sits calmly at a booth. The two stare each other down and he slowly slithers over and sits across from her. They say absolutely nothing to each other for what seems to be an eternity.

“(Y/n)—“

“Silence.” He said, “i told you what I said at the entrance, your attempts to escape end here. If I have to watch you while you sleep so be it, but you will not step out of this school.”

“As amusing as it would be for you to try and stop me, I have more important things to do than Argue with an impudent child. It is my decision that you cannot make for me.”

The tension between the two grows more and more intense.

“Take one step out of Nevermore and I will Drag you back.”

“I’d loathe to see you try.”

The two are ready to burn Jericho to the ground in their squabble, luckily a trio of teenagers, dressed as pilgrims decide to draw the ire of the twins.

“Hey, boys, check it out.” One says, they finish their argument and turn to the three.

“What's a pair of Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?” One says, “ This is our booth.” Another chimes in, rather take them seriously the duo do what they do best.

“Why are you dressed like religious fanatics?” Wednesday asks.

“We're pilgrims.”

“Same thing, murderous crusaders.” You say and Wednesday chimes in.

“Potato, Po-ta-to.” She says.

“We work at Pilgrim World.” One boy says. Annoyed.

“It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide.” Wednesday hardly jabs at them.

“My dad owns Pilgrim World.” One says.

“Wow. Making a theme part based off of Genocidal egomaniacs, that’s just stupid.” You say.,

“Are you calling is stupid?” One said.

“We’re you Not here for the first part of this conversation?” You respond. The trio slowly turn to you and you rise out of your booth.

“So tell me, freak... your sister ever been with a normie? Or is she all yours like all weirdos?” They laugh and (Y/n) folds his arms.

“Sorry i don’t participate in the same chromosome adding rituals that your parents did. Not my forte.” (Y/n) responds, and one boy has finally had enough. He swings with a punch which was caught effortlessly by (Y/n), who twists his arms. He kicks another halfway across the room. He slides along the ground and he hurls the other away. One leaps and puts him in the choke hold, (Y/n) hits him with an elbow straight im the rib cage, he begins to elbow him over and over, he lurches over, gasping for air and (Y/n) calmly slams his head into the table where Wednesday said, slightly enjoying the carnage. The three lie on the ground, spiraled.

“Good Talk everyone.” You say and sit back down across from Wednesday. “As I was saying, I will drag you back to Nevermore if you won’t go willingly.” (Y/n) says, before the doors open and is greeted by a middle aged man, the sheriff of these parts possibly.

“Dad!” The barista working there rushes over, and the sheriff turns to him.

“Tyler, the hell's going on in here?”

“They were harassing a customer, and he put them in their place.” Tyler says.

“This scrawny thing took down three boys?” The sheriff said.

“I don’t need help.” You say as you turn to The sheriff, suddenly Weems enters as well, seeing the mess.

“Apologies, Sheriff. These two slipped away from me.

Come on, Addams, time to go.” She says and the twins rise to leave.

“Wait a minute, hang on. You're both Addams? Don't tell me Gomez Addams is your father? That man belongs behind bars for murder. Guessin' the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm gonna keep my eye on you two.” He says, the twins seem unbothered by this and leave with Weems. The drive back to Nevermore was a bit, colder.

“Your first day and you're already on Sheriff Galpin's radar. Wish I could say I was surprised.” Weems says.

“What did he mean about my father?” Wednesday asks.

“A Murderer, dear sister. It seems Nevermore has more hidden, wouldn’t you agree Principal Weems?” You say, and she seemingly acts oblivious.

“I have no idea, but a word of advice. Stop making enemies and start making a few friends. You're going to need them.” Weems said, their drive was halted by an accident further up, a crashed truck.

“Looks like an accident. I hope the driver's okay.” Weems said, peering further ahead, but an ominous energy radiates though the truck.

“He's dead. Broke his neck.” Wednesday said, almost sure of it, they finally drive by, seeing how scarily right she was. (Y/n) turned to his sister.

“How did you know? It wasn’t a lucky guess.” You say, and Wednesday simply turns her head back forward.

“There is Something i must Tell you, Brother.”