#even if they never outright said the thing about potential
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If Jason's character had been written to its fullest potential, as you and many others have discussed several times, do you think that there would still be a large amount of favouritism towards Percy or do you think there would just be people arguing over who's better?
Personally I like to think that if we had gotten a few books documenting Jason's time at Camp Jupiter prior to the release of The Lost Hero, people would've had time to warm up to Jason a bit more and develop a fondness for his character and then the second option probably would've happened but what do you think?
my inbox was sort of jammed w asks so I'm sorry this took so long anon! i wanted this post to be more in-depth and not lazily written so I waited for a while to get my motivation recharged again, i hope this post reaches you somehow haha
my take on this, is that yes, jason would've gained more support than he did originally, and there wouldn't have been an agressive bandwagon of people jumping on the slander train, but he would still be somewhat disliked/suppressed imo.
from what I've observed the hate doesn't just stem fom him being uninteresting, it's combined with a lot of people's attachment towards percy, that they gatekeep him and are agressive to anyone who even alludes that other characters have a chance of being more interesting/powerful if rick hadn't played favourites. (like hazel, nico, thalia, etc)
i think you'll get a better perspective with this example I'll be giving you from one of my observations (i sound like a philosophy professor pfft)
I was on the r/camphalfblood reddit once, and a post came up on my feed, the person went on to rant about how jason shouldn't be 'trying so hard to suck up to nico by being so overbearing' and that they 'wished it wasn't jason with nico in that scene, it should've been someone else' and that rick shouldn't have made jason so nice and understanding about it. they were outright bashing him for being supportive?? idk it was clear they favoured percy over him and had some kind of prejudice against jason.
i didn't even understand what op was so pressed about. that jason wasn't being homophobic and was being a supportive ally? lol thankfully the comments went off and a few of them said 'you're saying this but you would be bashing jason if he wasn't comforting nico as well, jason can never win in the fandom' and that was VERY true.
I've seen people say that jason shouldn't have been written to be a very handsome heartthrob either and that they were very annoyed that rick kept emphasizing his good looks, making him 'too perfect' but that person failed to acknowledge that rick emphasized percy's attractiveness way more than he did jason lol but that was apparently completely alright (to me it just translated to 'how dare rick make jason as good looking as percy, only percy is allowed to be hot, jason deserved to look like an ugly rat' LOL)
so you can see how people pick on him about the most trivial things ever to 'defend' percy from imaginary arguments/rivalry lol
if jason was written well, they'd still find a way to hate on him, probably tossing the 'hes such a gary stu he has no flaws' in there aswell
funny thing is that they hated him for being too perfect and not making mistakes, but proceeded to SHRED him to pieces during MOA when he said he was suspicious of nico. didn't you just claim that he needed flaws? but the moment he displays it you are driven off of the handle??
I do have an interesting perspective that works in jason's favour tho, where I'm willing to bet that atleast 80% of the fandom would've been sympathetic to his struggle and he would've become a fan favourite, even going as far as to rival percy's fame, where, like you mentioned, there would've been equal percy and jason stans and it would've become a debate as to who is better. (hint: villian jason grace) send me an ask if you want me to elaborate on this ;)
#pjo#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo series#pjo hoo#jason grace#pjo hoo toa#rrverse#hoo#hoo fandom#heroes of olympus#percy jackson fandom#percy jackon and the olympians#character analysis
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Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?
Evidence below the cut!
Hoo, ok, so Bobby is a character that's been handled by a lot of different writers and a lot of them tend to default to a "ditzy/unintelligent" take when handling him, but the thing is that Bobby is creative and clever with his abilities, and a CPA. Bobby can be easily distracted and a bit flighty, but for me theres two aspects that read most truly as his having ADHD: one being that he often has the role of the class clown, but he's a nuanced character with a lot more going on who often uses that class clown persona as a defense, or as a tool to raise morale. He's far more observant than people give him credit for. Finally, idk if you've seen that post going around about how ADHD kids are always pushed to "fulfil their potential" and this is very closely what happens with Bobby in the comics. He is dismissed and largely written off as a class clown and a slacker (despite his creative uses of/precise control of his abilities) with a few pushes for him to "realize his potential" but as soon as people realize he's an Omega level mutant this ramps up even more with people constantly calling him lazy and a slacker even when he actually does deliver on his abilities.
#poll#noncanon adhd character#bobby drake#iceman#dc comics#dc iceman#bobby drake dc#dc bobby drake#oof that post does hit#i was very lucky in that both my parents are adhd#and my dad has had basically the exact same struggles with it as i have#so i never got that kind of thing from my parents#but i absolutely got it from myself because teachers expected more from me#even if they never outright said the thing about potential#considered this one for a bit because it doesnt really focus on the typical symptoms but yeah i think it works
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Thinking (again? Has anyone done this?) of Joker saying Akechi's name during Fear status and literally everyone assumes it's because he's flashing back to the interrogation and his near death experience.
Those present try to push Akechi away from him, when the affects seem to linger, and Akechi himself at first assumes this is the case as well.
They assume that the way Joker is looking around frantically is because he's still sure Akechi is "after him."
Except when Crow loses patience and slaps him out of it with a clawed hand and everyone (aside from Sumire) expects the worst, Joker doesn't freak out and run.
No, he relaxes and instantly, sheepishly, starts to calm down.
Akechi brings it up again when he self-destructively tries to push Akira away by reminding him of it, saying "a part of you is still scared of me, don't deny it-" only for that to make Akira laugh, angry.
He isn't scared OF Akechi. He isn't saying he never had been - it was terrifying, potentially facing death while powerless. But no.
When he's hit by Fear, the worst thing it dredges up is how he felt after Futaba said she couldn't find his signal, that he'd just heard Akechi die behind a barrier he couldn't get past.
It's the worst possible thing for Akechi to hear. It scares him, that trying to push Akira away won't work, that Maruki has his life as such a high value bargaining chip in Joker's eyes and Joker doesn't even know it, and it scares him in general that someone might actually care about him so much.
It means that Akechi outright knows that on 2/2 he's forcing Akira to create another new worst memory of losing him again.
And when he wakes up alive, it adds even more pressure to the idea of letting Akira know he's fine - because if he admits it, then he has to face the ordeal of being loved so much, so powerfully.
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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:
This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:
First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)
These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.
I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.
This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.
Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.
This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.
If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.
With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.
Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can
Food
Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).
This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.
Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.
(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)
Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.
The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.
And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.
It's What Humans Do
In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).
He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).
What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.
But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.
Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?
Angels, Demons, & Asexuality
Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.
Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)
And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).
The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.
I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.
Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.
Except...
Brielzebub
We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.
For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.
And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).
Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.
Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.
Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction
But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?
And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.
At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).
So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?
I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.
After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)
Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.
However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".
Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.
I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.
But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.
(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)
More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.
Aziraphale's Hedonism
Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.
It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.
Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.
Dancing
I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.
I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.
We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.
(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)
As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.
Love Languages
I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.
We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.
You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.
The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).
And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.
So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.
So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.
"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"
Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.
First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")
(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)
More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.
Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.
The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).
Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.
Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.
The Birds & The Bees
Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.
Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.
Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.
The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma
The Kiss. Where to even begin?
This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.
Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.
It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.
Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.
Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.
So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.
I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.
What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.
All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.
(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)
Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).
Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.
In Conclusion
I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.
So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.
You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.
But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.
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Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post
#pinned post bc I'm particularly proud of how it turned out and i don't want it to get buried when people check out my blog lol#Good omens#good omens spoilers#good omens season 2#good omens season 2 spoilers#good omens 2#good omens 2 spoilers#gos#gos spoilers#gos2#gos2 spoilers#gomens#gomens spoilers#gomens 2#gomens 2 spoilers#good omens s2 spoilers#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#aziraphale#crowley#mine#meta#character analysis#character study#discourse#making an effort#this literally took me a week to finish i really hope it doesn't sound stupid lol#i know I'm gonna wake up in a cold sweat every couple days bc i forgot to add something but i needed this out of my drafts and also my brain
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hiii - I read a bunch of your works and I loved them so much!
do you think you could do a minho (or one for everyone) piece where he's feeling burnt out but he's been trying to hold it together (maybe he's been quite successful at not making it known to the guys) because he doesn't want to be a bother y/n hasn't been around much (but has been texting to check in on him) because of university or work. but through those texts, you get a sense he's not himself and when you finally see him in person, you can tell he's trying to hold it together but the second you say "it's been hard, hasn't it?" He immediately break and y/n is there to pick him up.
okay this was a bit more specific than I intended so feel free to do your own thing but I think it would be nice to have a y/n comforting the member thing but only if youre up for it!!
Thank you and feel free to say no as well!! I understand that you've got a whole bunch of other things to do too
Thank you and have a great week.
Put Your Head on My Shoulder | Minho
Minho x gn!reader >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Minho sat on the edge of his bed, his phone resting in his hand as he stared blankly at the screen. Another text from you, asking how he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reply, but the words wouldn’t come.
He was burnt out. He had been running on fumes for weeks now-between rehearsals, performances, and schedules that seemed never-ending, the burnout had crept up on him slowly, until it swallowed him whole.
Still, he had been holding it together. At least, he thought he had.
The guys hadn’t noticed, or if they did, they hadn’t said anything. He’d become good at hiding it- smiling, joking, and keeping up the act, because that was what everyone expected of him. Minho was the strong one, the calm one, always in control. But beneath the surface, he was unraveling.
He didn't want to place that burden on anyone- let alone you who had been an unexpected blessing in his life. An unexpected meeting that turned into him freefalling for you fast and hard and more passionate than he had ever loved anyone before.
He needed you and he didn't want to do anything that could potentially jeopardize his chance at forever with you.
You probably didn't want to date a burnt out man...
He rubbed his temples, feeling the tension radiating behind his eyes, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Your text still glowed on the screen:
Hey, love, how’s everything going? You okay?
You had been checking in on him more often lately, even though you were busy with university. He could tell you were worried, even if you didn’t say it outright. And somehow, through just those few words, you knew him better than anyone else. As if your souls were connected.
Minho didn’t reply. He didn’t have the energy to put up a front, and he didn’t want to worry you more than he already had. He figured if you sensed something was off out of the blue, you could detect his lies through the phone.
He sighed and placed his phone face-down on the bed, willing the exhaustion away, knowing it wasn’t going anywhere.
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It had been almost two weeks since you and Minho had last seen each other. Between your classes and his packed schedule, finding time to meet up had been nearly impossible. But today was different. You had wrapped up your work early and decided it was time to check on him- really check on him. His texts had been growing shorter, his replies delayed, and every instinct told you that something was wrong.
And you supposed you could give some credit to Han, who had willingly snitched to you about how his Hyung was falling asleep in public places.
And how he:
"-didn't even react to a cat picture. That's a red flag, Hyung loves cats."
You knew Minho didn’t like to show when he was struggling. He had a habit of carrying everything on his shoulders without asking for help, but you had seen through that long ago.
The plan was simple: drop by his place, surprise him, and figure out what was going on.
When you arrived, you knocked softly, waiting for a response. After a moment, you heard shuffling on the other side, and the door creaked open.
Minho stood there, and your heart sank immediately. He looked exhausted- his usual sharp features softened by the weight of whatever he was carrying. His skin was dry, and his hair disheveled. His eyes, normally so full of mischief and light, were dull, and there was a tightness in his expression that he hadn’t quite managed to hide.
"Y/N-ah," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.
You smiled gently, stepping inside and wrapping your arms around him without a second thought, snuggling your head into his chest. "Hey, Min. You look like you need a break."
He chuckled softly, but there was no real humor behind it. "I’m fine. Just…a little tired."
You pulled back, studying his face, and it hit you just how much he had been pushing himself. There was a heaviness in the air between you, and you could see that he was barely holding it together. You sighed.
You led him to the couch, sitting down next to him. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the quiet stretching between you like a fragile thread.
Finally, you spoke, your voice soft but firm.
"It’s been hard, hasn’t it?"
At those words, you felt the subtle shift in the air, like the last thread of his composure snapped.
Minho’s catlike eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he blinked rapidly, trying to brush it off, to give you a small smile like he always did so he wouldn't be a burden- so he wouldn't give you any reason to judge, to leave; but this time that flippant smile didn’t reach his eyes. His lips trembled slightly- and then, all at once, the mask fell.
He broke.
Minho let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cover his face as his shoulders slumped. You could hear the quiet sound of his breath hitching, the sound of someone who had been holding on too tightly for too long.
"Don't look." He whined, but you didn't listen.
Without a word, you scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him against your chest. He didn’t resist, allowing himself to collapse into your embrace, his body trembling slightly as he let go of everything he had been bottling up. He buried his face into your shoulder, his breath coming in uneven waves.
"Shh," you whispered, rubbing gentle circles on his back. "It’s okay, Min. You don’t have to hold it together anymore."
Minho didn’t say anything, but his grip on your shirt tightened. For a while, you just held him, the soft sound of his breathing filling the space. He was always so strong, always so composed, but here, in your arms, he let himself be vulnerable. This was the first time you had ever seen him be vulnerable. And knowing im, you figured this wouldn't be a super common occurence but you basked in it nonetheless, happy that he felt comfortable enough to break in froont of you.
And you held him, letting him know that it was okay to lean on you-that he didn’t have to carry everything on his own.
After a while, his breathing steadied, and you felt him relax slightly against you. You pulled back just enough to look at him, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his face. His eyes were red-rimmed, his breathing clogged, but there was a softness there now- a quiet relief, like he had finally let down the walls he’d been building for so long.
"You don’t have to pretend with me, Minho," you said quietly, your fingers still gently combing through his hair. "I’m here."
He swallowed hard, blinking back the last of his tears. "I just…didn’t want to bother you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You shook your head, giving him a small, sad smile. "You could never be a bother. Not to me."
There was a long pause, and then Minho leaned his head against your shoulder, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as he rested against you. "Can I just…stay like this for a while?"
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. "Of course," you whispered. "As long as you need."
You could feel him relax further, his head heavy against your shoulder as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. You leaned back into the couch, and he shifted slightly, resting more comfortably against you.
"Put your head on my shoulder," you murmured softly, a quiet invitation to let go. And he did. He leaned into you, kicking his legs into your lap, his head nestling into the curve of your neck, his breathing becoming slower and more even as he allowed himself to cling close to you and simply be in your presence.
The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of your breathing in sync. You held him close, feeling the weight of everything he had been carrying, and you wished you could take some of that burden away. But for now, this was enough.
"You’ve been working so hard," you whispered, your voice soft as you stroked his hair. "It’s okay to rest."
Minho sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzled a little closer. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," he mumbled, his voice drowsy now, the emotional weight finally catching up to him.
"You’ll never have to find out," you said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.
Time passed in a comfortable silence, and after a while, the weight on your body became heavy as you realized Minho had drifted off to sleep, his body fully relaxed against you. You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through his hair once more, marveling at how peaceful he looked now.
He had been trying so hard to hold everything together, but here, in this moment, he had finally let himself be vulnerable. And you were grateful that he trusted you enough to let go, to rest, to lean on you.
You knew that when he woke up, he’d still have the weight of his responsibilities waiting for him. But for now, he was safe, cradled in the warmth of your arms, where he didn’t have to be anything but himself.
And as you sat there, holding him close, you knew that no matter what came next, you’d always be there to catch him when he fell- to remind him that he didn’t have to face everything alone.
With a soft smile, you rested your cheek against the top of his head, closing your eyes and letting the quiet comfort of the moment wash over you both.
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#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz stay#skz fluff#stray kids reactions#stray kids#skz reactions#skz#skz minho#lee minho#skz minho fluff#lee minho fluff#skz lee know#lee know fluff#pnutbutternjelyy#🥜🧈🪼
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I've been thinking about Great and Korn and what makes someone a good person. From what we've seen in episodes 1-4, Korn seems to have more worthy instincts and core character traits: he's empathetic and genuinely caring, he's responsible and tries to help people. But he is also a rich man attached to the trappings of his life, attached to meeting his father's expectations and protecting his family's wealth and name. And we see how those attachments have led him into doing bad, bad things. Not only running the underground business and closing his eyes to the price in lives it takes, but in his relationship to Tonkla.
It is chilling to look at what his relationship with Tonkla is like, now that we know it began as a mutual romance. If it had been transactional from the beginning, as I assumed up until episode 4, then at least it's honest and potentially fair. But Korn made promises to Tonkla, he loved him and said so, and then over time, bit by bit, he shoved him into the corner where he is now, a side piece and kept boy. That is how Korn treats him, showing up to fuck and then leaving at his convenience. Ignoring his calls - getting angry if Tonkla dares to demand his attention, getting angry at the idea that Tonkla would ask him to leave. It's so so clear that in his mind Tonkla is something that belongs to him, for him to use when he wants and ignore when he doesn't.
And if you think that this ultimate state of affairs shows that he never really cared about Tonkla, that the empathy he's shown in the past and toward Great is false, then I'm so sorry to tell you that people are like this. Someone can be genuinely caring in one area of their life and genuinely cruel, callous, and even abusive in another. It's actually very common. What we see in Korn is the way circumstances, and his own unwillingness to lose something as big as his fortune and his family, have over time worked to make the empathetic part of him smaller and smaller, the cruel and callous part larger and larger.
And then there's Great. Great seems to be, more than anything else, a coward. He goes with the flow, he doesn't challenge his horrible friend, his first instinct in every tense situation is to run away and avoid trouble. Very little moral fibre, very little natural concern for others. But he gets second chances. He gets to see the immediate, horrible aftermath of his cowardly choices and then he gets an instant redo. And he consistently makes better choices - sometimes even brave ones.
It's so easy to see how contemptible and haplessly destructive Great would be without those second chances. That seems, in fact, to be a lot of what this story's about. And so we have Korn, with the instincts of a good man, falling deeper and deeper into outright villainy, and Great, with the instincts of a base coward, being dragged by his fingernails into becoming something like a hero.
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I posted an analysis of a section from Dark Imperium on Reddit that I'm quite proud of, so I'm reposting it here:
‘Some of the worlds dispute the proof. They are more than glad to welcome our warriors, but the Imperial governors in two dozen systems quibble over reaffirming their oaths of loyalty. In one case, we have had an outbreak of intra-system civil war over the issue, where one lord has declared for you and three against. Some lie outright, telling us they were never part of Ultramar. Perhaps some of them sincerely believe it. A few are braver and insist the ancient treaties cannot be revoked, even by you, my lord, and��are determined to retain their independence.’ ‘They are wrong,’ said Guilliman. […] 'They are… disquieted by the fate of some of their peers.’ ‘Only those who rule poorly have anything to fear,’ said Guilliman. ‘It is, naturally, the more autocratic rulers who oppose your rescinding of their independence.’ ‘Then they only delay the inevitable,’ said Guilliman. ‘They will fall into line and ask politely for mercy, or they will be executed.’ […] ‘I should never have set the Five Hundred free,’ he said. ‘My lord?’ said Ventris. ‘I should not have done it,’ repeated Guilliman. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was following the Emperor’s wishes, letting men rule the affairs of men.’
A lot of people look at this passage and think they’re seeing Guilliman clean up corruption in the 500 Worlds. I’m sure he will, but that’s not what’s happening here. This is an autocrat ruthlessly crushing resistance.
Why are these worlds resisting? Ventris claims that “naturally” the more autocratic rulers are the most resistant. Perhaps that’s true, but we also have to take into account that he is an Ultramarine talking to his genesire; he will be heavily biased in thought and word against Guilliman’s enemies. Look closer at how he describes the resisters. They invoke ancient treaties to justify their independence. They’re afraid of what will happen if they surrender. Using that information, let’s flip the chessboard and try to imagine what these demands feel like from their perspective:
You’re a human ruler. For the past ten thousand years, your planet has existed free of transhuman rule. You might even have the original treaty that granted your planet’s independence. You almost certainly regard yourself as an obedient subject of the Imperium.
All of a sudden, one of the legendary demigods of yore shows up on your doorstep and demands you to bend the knee. He doesn’t care about your treaties (which he probably signed!) or historic independence or anything. Ugly things happen to people who go against him. Oh sure, he claims that you’ll be fine, so long as you haven’t done anything wrong, but do you really believe that? You’re a ruler in the fucking Imperium. You know just how potential claimants are handled; you know how often misdeeds get dug out of the closets of inconvenient politicians. Shit, you've probably done that yourself to your political rivals. Do you really think that you’ll be okay? And if you actually care about your planet, can you really trust him to give a damn about the lives of your people? Transhumans do tend to be aloof creatures convinced in their own superiority…
Guilliman doesn’t consider any of these possibilities, not even for the purposes of negotiation. Guilliman doesn’t care. He’s right, you’re wrong, and therefore he’s justified in doing whatever it takes to make you comply. This is 40k. “Whatever it takes” includes cyclonic torpedoes.
The most damning part IMO are Guilliman’s words at the end. He didn’t grant these worlds their liberty because he trusted humans to look after themselves. He granted them liberty in obedience to Dad. Humans’ thoughts, beliefs, and opinions never entered the equation. And now, coming back to the Imperium at its lowest point, he concludes that it was a mistake to give humans the benefit of the doubt.
The Imperium lasted ten thousand years under human rule. It survived the Great Beast, twelve Black Crusades, the Nova Terra civil war, the False Primarch, the Age of Apostasy, three Tyranid Wars, and Throne knows what else—not just survived, but even thrived in many cases. Under transhuman rule, the Imperium lasted six fucking years before it exploded into civil war that nearly destroyed the whole empire and even the galaxy itself. But it was a mistake to let humans rule themselves. Riiiiiiiiight.
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So with friend!reader, when the batfam's obsession switches to them...personally I would never believe the batfam actually loves me, especially if I suffered at their hands. To me, it'd just be another trick to get me away from their original obsession. And if I ever did believe them? I would be terrified. If their obsession can switch once, then it can definitely switch again, and if I get kidnapped by them, I'd just constantly be on edge, waiting for them to become obsessed with someone new, and to kill me when that happens. Lots of potential for angst...
Agreed! And that's what I love about it too, especially as, again, when things do turn- you already have a pretty solid idea of what you're getting into and it's horrible.
I mean, can you imagine how uncanny it is? To see these people who were threatening your life, career, and basically anything they possibly could (which, considering the Batfam, is everything) - now not only act all buddy-buddy with you, but actually start to treat you like a human being??? Hell, maybe even more depending on the person. The real trick is trying to figure out if they're using you to get even closer to their obsession, trying to get you away, or both... they've always been hard to read, and now with their attention shifted to you, well, that definitely hasn't gotten any easier- at least you could tell when they were being outright malicious or not.
Then again, seeing is believing, no? But that may not even be enough, since, again, the reader in that scenario is basically an 'almost' victim of the Batfam. I think the really horror of it all is when they completely disregard or do away with their previous obsession. Either to 'prove' themself to you, or for some other but equally insane reason. Hell, it could even just be because they want to spend time with you instead, but considering the situation? They may as well have said something completely crazy.
And that's what I love about it! Once that switch comes, all of these little things that seem fine, minor, and or ridiculously small from an outsiders perspective (or even just, in any other situation besides this one) are now seen in a completely different light. Things that may seem or look innocent and nice, now have a whole new meaning to it as you know what it really means, and that is horrifying. Like, what do you mean that all of these psychos are my responsibility now? What do you mean that they feel as if they can't even live without me being in the room with them, or at arms length? What do you mean that they are my problem now? And not because they're trying to use me to get close to one of my friends, but rather because they want to spend time with me now? What happening to them hating me????
I feel like it'll definitely get to the point where you just kind of hope their obsession with fall on someone else, and you'll hopefully be able to take that opportunity to escape and just get the hell away from these freaks-
But imagine the horror when a small, threatening yet innocent thought creeps into your head that they won't. And as time passes... well... you're not exactly proven wrong. Especially not when you try to pull away and move on, only for them to pull you back, and rip away those closest to you just to have you. (totally not partially 'foreshadowing' by the way)
Though you are right!!! There are tons of potential for angst, and general conflict!
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The Man 8
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
You gag into your hand, shaking. You gurgle and shake out your fingers, the motion of the car adding to your sickness. The man beside you growls.
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"Eeek, it's so gross," you drag your tongue against the roof your mouth, like a llama about to spit, "it tastes so bad!"
You give another repulsed noise and shudder. The salty, sticky, sweaty flavour stains your mouth. You feel like you can even smell it.
"You don't think it tastes gross?"
"Do you think I taste my own cum?" He snorts.
"Like I said, the internet--"
"Maybe you should cut that out and grow up. You might not be knee deep in shit if you did."
"I-- me. Sir, you're the one--"
He reaches over and flicks your throat, right in your esophagus, and cough in pain as you fold over.
"You think your funny? We'll see who's laughing soon enough," he grits as he slaps his hand back on the steering wheel. "Come into my town and.... bullshit... laughing..."
He rants under his breath as he drives on. You feel the daggers he sends in your direction as he drives. You'd rather he focused on the road because he just blew a red.
"So... if you're not the mayor..." you begin as you sit up. You see your reflection in the side mirror; yikes.
"Don't fucking start," he warns and points a finger, hitting the wheel, "I swear you want to die. Don't you?"
"Mayors don't talk like that so... no," you frown. "Look, Fl-- Lloyd," you enunciate slowly, "you keep saying I should know who you are but I don't, okay?"
"Are you going to keep talking?" He grumbles.
"Sorry, sorry," you rub your neck, your throat still throbbing, "I'm... trying."
"Not hard enough," he sneers, "all you need to know is to shut your mouth and listen. Got it, sweet lips?"
You nod and cross your arms, "got it."
He sighs and eases off the gas. You sit forward and crane around. Where the heck are you? You've never been to this end of town.
"Sit back," he shoves your shoulder so you hit the seat, "can't see through you despite the empty space in your skull."
You curl your shoulders in and lower your head. Your adrenaline slowly recedes. Oof, that hits hard. Not worse than anything you've been told before but having a moment to think about it, about everything that's happened on the last few hours, it doesn't feel good.
You languish in the silence and watch the blend of brick and pavement through the car window. This is just another I told you so. Your parents will be all too happy to laugh on your face. And those old friends who kept you around to make themselves feel better.
He huffs as he slows and rolls up to a large gate, "come on, cheeks, don't get all pouty now. The fun part's not even begun."
You lean forward to see beyond the gate as it opens at the touch of his phone screen. You can't help but feel awe at the sprawling yard and towering modern mansion. These places only exist on screens.
"Aw, baby face, you're seeing all sorts of big things today, huh," he scoffs.
You don't react. He sways dangerous between menacing and mocking. He might not have told you outright who or what he is, but you can guess by his flagrant threats and even more exorbitant wealth. No on is that cocky or that rich through innocent means.
He rolls through and the gate shuts without prompt. Like a motion sensor or something just as fancy as the rest of this place. You wonder how long it takes the army he no doubt employs for the task to trim and style the lawn. You almost understand why he was so finicky about his coffee. Almost.
Yet that glimmer of defiance needles in the back of your head. If he's so rich and better than you, why wasn't he hitting some high end place where they infuse their coffee with diamonds or whatever? You suppose he might enjoy feeling like a giant as he walks among the anthills.
Figuring out this man won't do you any good. Even if you could. None of that matters. You've stepped on his toes and he's not going to let yours go unstomped.
He pulls in along a row of egregiously expensive luxury cars; one for seemingly every day of the week. It wouldn't surprise you. Well, you’re in such a stupefied state, nothing can.
His seat belt repeals sharply and he swings open the driver's door. You jolt back and look around. Do you get out too? He slams the door and your doubt is quashed as he taps on the window with his knuckles.
You undo your belt and feel around the door. Where the heck is the handle? These things have to be so sleek and sophisticated that you can never figure anything out. The door opens before you can find the release and you look up sheepishly at Lloyd.
You get out and step aside as he shut the door with a flick of his wrist. You peer around and twiddle your thumbs. What exactly happens now?
You stop short as he heads toward the stone steps along the house's facade. You're struck by a startling epiphany. He might be right about you in some ways. How did it take this long to realise?
You've been abducted.
He stops at the door and looks back at you, "look, honey bun, I'm getting fucking tired. Stop pussyfooting around and come on."
"Um, sir, F--Lloyd," you put your hands up, "Mr. Hansen, so, when do I get to go home because this feels kinda... entrapment-y."
"If I have to drag you," he snaps.
"Alright, alright," you keep your palms put and scurry forward, "I'm just asking questions. It's been a strange day."
"Fucking tell me about it," he mutters. "Ah, ah, sweet lips," he puts hisbarm out to block you from the front door, "rule one: beyond these doors, you're naked. That's it. Full access all the time."
You double take. Full on Three Stooges pantomime. You nearly fall on your ass.
"Wh-at?" Your voice catches.
"If I have to keep repeating myself--" he warns.
"But what if I get cold?"
"Oh my fucking god," he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you to face him, "I should fucking break that jaw."
He claws at your shirt and rips it up your body. You flinch with the force of his rude undressing. You squeak as he untangles your tee then shoves down your sweats, nearly taking your undies with them. He snaps the elastic with his index.
"Everything, baby girl," he demands and glares at you, crossing his arms. His cheek twitches and his jaw squares. Without the lip fur he might be decent.
You wiggle free of your pants and step out of them, then your panties. Your bra gives you some trouble as one of the hooks is bent. As you stand naked out in the summer breeze you feel strangle calm. It's kind of freeing.
You look at him and find him eyeing you up and down; that's a little more oppressive. You make a face. "Shoes off or..."
"Everything. Fuck, you gotta ruin it with that mouth," he barks and turns to strut through the door, "...drive me fucking insane...for what...pussy?"
You stare after him and exhale, stepping over the threshold. A lot has happened and you still haven't got your head around it all. Maybe it's better that way.
#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#drabble#series#the gray man#the man#au#mob au
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y'know. a thought hit me about the whole john apologist discourse with sam and dean. john sacrificing his life to save dean was the best thing he could've done in sam's eyes and the worst thing he could've done in dean's eyes. and from there on, their respective forgiveness and bitterness grows. just thought you might find it interesting?
That's a great point. In looking at Sam's turnaround on John, I've looked more at a common trauma as the catalyst and the Stanford fight. Sam's feelings on his father start to shift in 1.02 when, after losing Jess, he suddenly shares a traumatic experience with his father almost play for play and is full of rage. He asks Dean brokenly how their father manages to handle the trauma. He suddently has an understanding of his father's pain that was explicitly absent in 1.01 on the bridge, when he said he didn't remember Mary and hadn't really lost anyone. Now he feels out of control and wonders how John even manages at all. But the big wound of the Stanford fight remains—how Sam thought John didn't love him and just saw him as an embarrassment. In 1.08, when he learns that John's actions were born out of fear, and that John had checked up on him periodically to make sure he was safe, his mood shifts and he outright says he wants to see John and apologize to him. I'm not one to say there's any excuse for John telling Sam never to come back, but I think for SAM, hearing his father show vulnerability and admit that he was afraid was important and needed—we can see how much it means to Sam to hear that John worried for him in 1.08 and 1.20. That certainly doesn't mean they don't butt heads though, as we see in 1.10, 1.11, 1.20, and 1.21. They're both so headstrong and they both want to be in charge—Sam spends all of 1.20 challenging John's authority, but then all of 1.22 (until the end when he sides with Dean) trying to enforce that authority in John's absence. As soon as they're in the same room again in 2.01, they're back to butting heads, but now Sam is furious on Dean's behalf, assuming that John doesn't care that Dean is dying. It's what their last ever fight is about, and it's absolutely vicious, and John very cruelly blames Sam for Dean's condition, and then... Sam tells him to go to hell. Which is a pretty mild insult, but it actually... happens—and because Sam had misjudged what John was up to, and thought he was summoning Yellow Eyes for another revenge plan... from Sam's perspective looking back, he got this whole thing so wrong. He was screaming at John for not caring about Dean when John was about to make the ultimate sacrifice to save Dean, and he told his father to "go to hell". What's more, even John's cruel words—blaming Sam for Dean's condition because it would all be over if Sam had just shot John when he had the chance—they reveal John's suicidality. We know explicitly that Sam regrets their last conversation being a fight (2.02) but I think a part of Sam thinks "If only I hadn't screamed. If only I hadn't picked a fight. If only I could have told him not to leave us, he could have looked for another way." Maybe it's even more than John sacrificing for Dean being a symbol of love, but Sam having so deeply misjudged John's intentions and not clocked his mental state. It leads Sam to reel back so far in guilt and regret that he arguably overcorrects, rewriting a lot of the things John did to be less traumatic than they were. This doesn't fully stop until 6.02, and even then, it's soulless Sam criticizing John, and quite arguably because he knows from their big fight in 4.19 that he can terrify Dean into coming with him by filling his head with fears about turning into their father.
But yeah! To Sam, dying for Dean is this ultimate proof that John loved them and that Sam was wrong about him, and he backpedals hard from being (in his mind) so wrong (and potentially feeding into John's suicidality, even though that isn't Sam's fault). Meanwhile, Dean is furious with his father for abandoning him with all the responsibilities, but he can't really grab onto that anger and process it because at the same time, he knows John did it because he actually does value Dean's life (something Dean was starting to question) and he's grieving and Sam is doing revisionist history and it all leaves Dean clammed up and silently seething and unable to process what any of it means. And that anger builds and builds and then in 3.10, he explodes, and then spends several seasons calling his father a worthless deadbeat before also cooling down some.
#pk rewatches spn number ?#we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone#<- Sam and John tag#mail#i dont deserve what he put on me
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Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, almost drowning) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.
Chapter 1: Seven Months Ago
Noa
It wasn’t very cold this late in the season thankfully, but the constant rain made a chill cling to his body. Anaya and Soona walked next to him, the misting of water clinging to their fur and making it stand on end. It seemed as if it was finally ready to stop for a short period though, he noticed the dark clouds above head dissipating. Soona, seeing the same thing, shook her body to clear it of the remaining water. She sighed happily as Anaya chose to copy her, more obnoxious as he purposely shook to throw water back onto Soona. She hissed playfully before hooting, pointing forward at the younglings in lesson down by the creek with his mother.
He kept his eyes peeled for any potential threat, Eagle Sun visibly gliding overhead. He had a weird feeling about today, one that left him on edge as he continued to scan their surroundings. Anaya attempted to say something amusing to get his attention, but it was ignored in favor of his need to focus.
He heard Soona scoff and hoot behind him, but he truthfully hadn’t heard a word Anaya said. He stopped abruptly when he saw movement across the creek, or at least, he thought he had. It was downwind, so even as he scented the air, he wouldn’t be able to detect anything. Nothing that could threaten his clan outright.
“ You are…distracted.” Soona questioned, “Worried?”
Anaya hooted, “Too serious…now that he is leader…why not go…down and have fun…with younglings…elder?”
“Why?” He questioned, turning to bat at Anaya. “When you are here.”
Soona hooted as Anaya jumped and avoided his swings, “The creek is high…perhaps smart..to be on look out…Dar should have waited…until drier to take…younglings out.”
“Mother knows…what’s best…never would put young ape…in danger.” He reasoned, another flash of movement across the creek once again stilling him. “Besides…who knows when rain…will stop for good.”
He made motion for Soona and Anaya to follow him, making their way down the muddy, uneven embankment to the edge of the water, where his mother and the younglings were. She was teaching them about high waters and how the fish migrate, how rough waters mean fishing that day would be near impossible for Eagle. Instead, learning to build wooden traps for fish, allowing Eagle to rest while they hunted.
The moment the three of them descended the creek bank, all concentration by the younglings was lost. They rushed over to meet the infamous Sunset Trio, chasing after Anaya as he ran around them, and grasping at Soona’s decorations when she crouched to greet them. He made his way towards his mother, a few younglings silently trailing after him. It was a reminder that as the new Master of Birds there was a sort of reverent respect that came with that.
“Hah!” he exclaimed, jumping around to face the younglings. They fell on top of one another and hooted their enjoyment at the scare before running off to join Soona or Anaya.
He hooted lowly to himself with no small amount of pride. Who was the elder now? He didn’t need reverent respect. He didn’t feel as if he had fully earned it. Not like his mother…not like his…
“Son,” his mother called warmly. “Nice to see you bonding…with younglings for once…You seem…concerned…what troubles you?”
His mother, ever observant, as he leaned down to touch heads with her in a brief greeting. He tried to be discreet as his eyes trailed over that same spot across the creek where movement had been. From this vantage point he could see that there was nothing, but still scented the air to be sure.
He caught a whiff of small game, rabbit or a raccoon perhaps. Another whiff made him think again…perhaps skunk. His mother followed his line of sight, returning her gaze to him after a moment as she signed, I’ve noticed all lesson. Subtle movement, but does not leave or reveal itself. I think, no threat.
He huffed, returning her message, If no threat, why sign?
“Better to be safe…Just in case…though the creek…does provide safety…from anything on that side.”
She was right of course, the creek now mirrored a small river, swollen from the rain. It’s height would be more concerning if it wasn’t for the fact the bank’s own height could hold three times the creeks height. He imagined a long time ago more water existed than what does today, making it impossible to trek from one side to the other.
Most animals could swim, but not ape. They didn’t have much of an advantage if something wanted to cross and attack. An elder such as his mother and a group of younglings? It would be too easy. He never had to worry about such matters before, never had anyone truly depend on him making the right decisions. How did Koro do it? How did he make it look so effortless?
His eyes hadn’t strayed from that part of the creek, waiting for any type of movement to alert him of another presence, but his gaze remained distant as his thoughts danced around him. His mother saw that far off look and slowly placed a gentle palm on his forearm, knowing that what her son’s eyes were looking at was not what he was seeing. In that way, he reminded her so much of Koro. His concentration was broken then, finally turning away from the vegetation and to the chimpanzee who raised him. He offered an apologetic look, the gentle motion allowing him to take a breath and relax into her touch.
Of course, the relief didn’t last long. There was a shifting and a rumble in the ground that caused everyone to freeze in place. It ended almost as soon as it started, his instincts telling him something was wrong. Again, he scented the air, only smelling his clan and the wet ground. Then, Soona hooted for his attention, pointing wildly up stream.
He noticed water, much like the salty waves that had been present at Proximus’ kingdom, descending towards them. He remembered then. There was a dam far upstream…and he could only conclude that the deafening noise and shift of ground was from it breaking. The harsh build up of rain that had been relentless, it must have overwhelmed the decaying structure.
Without wasting any time he called out, “Climb!”
He began to help his mother out of the creek bed, making sure she was secure on higher ground before racing to help Anaya and Soona further up stream. They were hoisting younglings up the bank, which had become unstable. A few had reached the top, only to slide back down from the ground giving way beneath them.
He saw the wave gaining momentum in the distance, the creek water already rising at their feet. He screeched for attention, ordering, “Soona…Anaya…go up top. Grab younglings from…safe footing.”
They did as he instructed, sliding a few times themselves before reaching the top. They backed up a step or two as the soil crumbled beneath their feet along the edges. He immediately began handing younglings up to them, whimpering and crying in fear as each one waited for their turn. Once up, they would run to his mother, who waited at the edge of the tree line, keeping track of them all and making sure they stayed back and out of the way.
Soona began to have a panicked look on her face the longer it took to get the younglings up. He ignored it, turning away to grab the last two before he heard her call, “Noa…the water!”
He didn’t waste time looking, holding a youngling by the scruff of their neck in each hand, before practically throwing them up into Soona and Anaya’s outstretched arms. He felt their weight released from his grip just as the wave had struck his side. He thrust his body forward and for a moment, digging his palms and feet into the moist soil of the side, he believed that it would hold him.
It did prevent the initial wave from taking him…but the rushing current was too strong for the loose dirt beneath his grip began to melt and crumble between his fingers.
“No..no…no!” he called as he felt his body be pulled away from safety. He kept trying to grip the soil as Anaya and Soona chased after him, knowing if he could just hold on for a few seconds one of their arms would be there for him to grasp onto.
It was not to be, as a log came charging rapidly towards him. He couldn’t have avoided it, feeling his body be knocked under the water as it slammed into him. Pain exploded in his left arm from the impact, and as the water carried him further under he felt his body roll and tumble against the sediment at the bottom of the creek.
Small rocks ground into his fur and scraped his nose, disorienting him further before he found a way to kick from the ground and burst back to the surface. Taking a large gulp of air, he was brutally reminded of another situation similar to this. Just then, another rush of water forced him under. The scars of Proximus and his Kingdom were more than skin deep, as he felt fear churn his stomach, more so than the water that churned his body. He heard Soona calling his name, somehow managing to breach the surface again. Anaya was screeching in a panic as he attempted to keep pace with his body being carried down stream. Anaya had always had been the fastest amongst the three.
He found himself submerged again, only for a moment as the creek had been shallower here, his feet instantly catching on the bottom before the current catapulted his body forward again. He tried thinking of a way to get out of the water, before his body lost the will to fight the current. Breaking to the surface, he noticed movement up ahead, on the opposite side of the creek from where he had been. That same flurry of movement he had seen before in the corner of his eye. It’s then he noticed the drop off from the creek. It wasn’t high, in comparison to the heights he’s fallen from, but the pool of water beneath it was deep. If he went down he’d never come back up.
Body going under once more in the torrid rapids of the raging water, he found himself thrown towards the middle of the creek, further away from Anaya and Soona on his left. He had a choice to make then and was running out of time to make it. With determination to reach the opposite side and stop himself, he willed his body into a crouch under water, forcing it not to tumble forward. In this position, he used all four limbs to launch himself from the bottom of the creek, angling his body towards the right.
So close still, he heard Anya and Soona relentlessly calling out to him, but further away from them now as he reached for anything in sight. The vegetation towards the edge, the rocks along the sides of the bank covered in slippery moss; he hoped against hope that something would not give way under his weight. In vain, he saw the drop approach, desperation heightening his fear amid the crushing force of the water. Then, he saw an arm suddenly thrusted out for him to grab.
He took it, not hesitating nor having the time to notice what kind of arm he was desperately grasping hold of. He sputtered up water once he stopped moving, taking in a full breath of air that shook his water logged lungs. He heard a whine above him then, head snapping up when he realized he was merely being suspended in the raging water, not being pulled out. He realized then, it wasn’t an ape arm holding him. Tanned, hairless flesh greeted him as he followed the length of the arm up to lock eyes with the straining female Echo above him.
Aghast amazement filled his eyes as she struggled to support him. It was more impressive she was able to stop him at all, surely he thought his weight would overpower her. A coil of rope was around the arm grasping his, and she made a motion to loop it around his other arm and shoulder. Here, he did hesitate, but the crunching sound of her feet sliding against the rock made him realize…it was either trust her, or take her down with him.
He did as she instructed, letting the loop encircle him under his arms and around his shoulders. She glanced behind her before looking back to him. She motioned with her left hand to grip the rope. He did as she wanted, and he felt her grip on him loosen. He panicked, clasping onto her hand tighter. Her face scrunched in pain before she once more gestured for him to grip the rope. That’s when it dawned on him.
She intended to let go.
He couldn’t see if the rope was secure to anything besides himself and the girl. The idea filled him with fear, but feeling debris start to brush against him it was only a matter of time before something bigger came along like that first log. He nodded once at her, bracing himself as he released her hand and gripped the rope. He went back under the water, his heart stopping at the notion that he might not resurface this time, before a harsh lurch returned him to the surface. He tightened his grip, eyes closing briefly before opening them to find his bearings. Looking up, the girl was gone.
Then, he felt the rope pulling him. It was slow, but big lurches at a time had his body steadily rising from the water. He hooted, reaching for the edge of the rock the girl had grabbed him from, attempting to pull himself up. The current was still very strong and he noticed he had suddenly lost his advantage. He was no longer being pulled upwards, freezing midair with only half of his body out of the water. His feet scrambled for purchase under water, his upper body muscles screaming as he tried to move with no real leverage. Just as he thought he wouldn’t be able to lift himself from this vantage, the girl had returned, poking her head over the edge of the rock.
She tugged on his arm, her gaze shifting across the creek for a moment before releasing him as if his fur had burned her. She made as if to back away, then looked down at him once more. He saw her swallow, look behind herself, then further up the river. Her eyes locked with his, steeling herself for he didn’t know what. Suddenly, she was crouched in front of him.
His shock was obvious when her arms went under his, a gasp leaving his mouth as she pressed herself cheek to cheek with him. Time seemed meaningless then, being enveloped this close to her, the newness of her scent flooding his senses. He felt her jaw clench, heard the deep breath she took before she began to pull him up with, what he imagined was, all of her might. Time resumed, he began pushing himself forward as she pulled, trying to assist her as much as possible.
The tips of his fingers were starting to crack open, some already bleeding as he refused to release his grip from the rough surface of the rock below him. Once the majority of his body was over the ledge, he heard the girl grunt, using her weight as a counter balance, leaning back and pulling his weight into her lap. From here, his feet kicked off the side of the rock, gaining momentum to throw himself forward the rest of the way.
He was out of the water, having just enough mind to roll to the side as his body collapsed in relief. He was still partly on top of the girl, her arm and shoulder pinned under him. She didn’t protest though, her body having fallen sideways too. Both of them were panting, more than willing to take a moment to relax now that their excursion had ended. He raised his head to face her fully, grateful beyond words as their eyes locked onto one another. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given the circumstances of what had just happened, but he only now noticed the intelligence that was held in her exhausted gaze. He blinked once, a thousand questions flooding his mind. He blinked twice and the realization must have shown on his face, for in the next instant he felt her arm frantically wriggling out from beneath his weight.
He was too slow to react as she fell backwards in an attempt to free herself from him. His shock wore off as she scooted away on all fours, springing to her feet. He attempted to do the same, watching her bolt for the tree line in front of them. He thought surely he could catch her before she vanished, gaining ground quickly on all fours. He lunged for the material of her clothing before he was harshly reminded of the rope.
One minute he was on her heels, and the next thing he knew his face was planted into the ground. His pride more wounded than anything, he hissed as he looked up at her retreating form amongst the vegetation. He pulled the offending rope off of him, showing no gratitude even though it had just saved his life. He huffed, ready to charge forward when he was reminded once more of the world around him.
“Noa!” Soona called from across the creek.
He stopped then, turning to see her and Anaya waving with concerned looks on their faces. He grunted, waving his arm in a sign that he was okay, his focus drawn once again to the tree line next to him.
“Noa…no…don’t!” He heard Anaya yell in warning.
Soona was quick to join in, “Just meet back…up river…go home…don’t chase!”
He swallowed, frustrated as his breaths came in quicker bursts. He contemplated letting the Echo go, forgetting any of this had even happened. He wiped excess water from his face, looking up to see Eagle Sun flying above the tree tops… further into the woods. Tracking. He was tracking the Echo. With that, his mind was made up.
“Get everyone…home safe.” He called to Soona and Anya. “I will…return…by nightfall.”
With no time to listen to their cries of protest, he launched himself into the woods in search of the Echo girl who had just saved him. The only thing that ran through his mind as he pursued her tracks, was a single sentence.
Here we go again.
#planet of the apes#pota#kingdom of the planet of the apes#kotpota#noa#noa pota#noa x reader#fanfiction#anaya#kotpota anaya#soona#soona pota#slippery slope series
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Imo the League of Villains should have never existed from the main story of MHA. They were utterly unbalanced and were so flawed that no attempt of fixing could fix them.
I get where your coming from. I
I honestly believe the LOV really needed was time to grow away from the spotlight.
Think of the LOV as leftover pizza (I know, just stick with me for a minute)
Too long in the microwave/oven/pan and it tastes like hardback, too little and it becomes soggy muddled. There's a very specific way you need to do things and that's by not overthinking it.
Hori kept the microwave on too long and the LOV's potential evaporated.
From what I can tell, MHA worked best when it had a 'Villain of the week's type of thing going on.
This was most prominent and best set up with Stain, Stain's character/arc not only expanded the world of MHA but also brought up deeper questions about Hero society
What's most important here is that Stain didn't overstay his welcome. He rolled in, made every panel count and then went out like a champ. Affecting the protagonist and those around him.
He had an impact that's felt throughout the rest of the series (There is no Internship Arc in Ba Sing Se) not inspite of his short lived presence but because of it.
At some point, Hori lost this concept and the plot went with it.
I think the main problem with the LOV started after Kamino. Before this, every member has solid, or at least tangible ideals.
The Vanguard Action Squad was the LOV at it's most raw, not perfect but functional. They felt like people, when Spinner stops Magne from pursuing Midoriya, it feels real for the world.
Simply put the LOV (much like 1A) worked best as individuals, differing worldviews and all.
So when Hori robbed the LOV of their autonomy by practically wrangling them to Shigaraki, it in turn killed the LOV, because now nothing was individual about them.
If you want an example, how about Magne's death. Her last words are the very last time anyone in the LOV asserts any belief besides Shigaraki's own.
After this the LOV barely give any resistance to Shigaraki's plans no matter how short sighted or convoluted.
Kurogiri is outright sacrificed by the narrative so that Shigaraki finally has to step up.
Shigaraki's reaction to Toga's rage and grief follwing Magne's death can be amounted to: "Trust me bro, we're doing this for us bro, please believe me bro."
It's absurd.
As for being flawed, I'll assume you mean their motives.
What needs to be understood is that the LOV (Pre Kamino) and the PLF (Post Kamino) are not the same characters
Flanderisation is the phenomenon of a characters worst traits being exacerbated over a period of time until said character is unrecognizable from their original self.
This is what Hori did the LOV and he did this intentionally.
At some point he realized that the Villains actually had more of a point than the heroes, this likely occured after the MVA arc when fans began rooting for the LOV.
To counter this Hori sabotaged multiple characters and plots in a desperate attempt to justify his woolies and unfortunately for everyone who's isn't an abuser-stan (Enji and Bakuo). The rest of the cast and world suffered greatly.
What you ended up with are characters so detached from their origins that they might as well not even be the same characters at all.
There's an image somewhere that encapsulates this perfectly, it's a 4 panel comic with two stick figures (one black and one blue). If I ever find it or someone links it I'll be sure to upload it here
#mha critical#bnha critical#hero society critical#lov#anti endeavor#anti bakugou#anti mha ending#anti bakugo katsuki
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Your Relationship Trope (Bucciarati’s Gang)
↳ Gender Neutral Reader. Takes place after the events of Part 5 in a everyone lives!AU.
A/n: It’s been a while! I had to take some time for personal matters, so sorry for my absence. I wrote something just a tad more breezy to help ease myself back into it; I really missed writing. I hope y’all enjoy!
Warning(s): None.
Giorno Giovanna
-> Love at First Sight
This deeply romantic, cheesy, guy.
Because of how much he prides himself on understanding, and by extension owning, his own thoughts and feelings- he could tell there was something drawing him to you the moment he met you. A gut feeling that he’d really care to know you better; one that he knows better than to ignore.
Good luck trying to hide anything from him yourself, either. He is as good at reading others as he is himself.
Therefore, if you felt immediately drawn to him as well, he’s going to notice. You might not say anything outright or maybe try to bury it deep down… but either way, he can tell.
Not that he minds your affections, of course. Giorno gets into this cheeky habit of dangling the concept of a potential relationship above your head. Just out of reach.
Yes, it’s in part because he wants to tease you. Seeing you grow flustered at his unapologetically forward flirtations… it never gets old.
But Giorno is also a very busy individual.
It’s difficult for him to plan meetups with you, being gone for days on end at times. Even up and leaving at the drop of a hat if the need arises. He takes his position seriously, and has been a rather involved Don since day one.
And Giorno is a sucker for the details, so he won’t make the final push to become official unless it’s the perfect moment.
Luckily for you, he’s a patient guy.
And as mentioned, he can read you like an open book. He knows you’re not looking at other men or women. Keenly aware you’re waiting for him to make some grand gesture.
Some guilt inevitably spawns whenever he gets extra busy, but your happiness at getting to see him again quickly puts those worries to rest for the time being.
All that in due time… after all, if it’s really true love, he is in no desire to rush.
That being said, the people in his inner circle would absolutely like him to rush. Who knows about his feelings for you? Everyone.
That’s not hyperbole, he’s fairly certain everyone around him can tell.
He will never shut up about you. In damn near any situation where it may be appropriate. Not in any situation that it would potentially reach your ears.
Mista himself has commented that he doesn’t know which he would prefer: Giorno before a relationship with you or during. Either way he’s ‘dealing with a lovesick fool.’
Giorno doesn’t care much, already knowing it’s something his closest friends ought to get used to. Confident in himself and what he picks up on.
After all, your smile says what his mind is already thinking.
Bruno Bucciarati
-> Reunited Childhood Friends
Bruno Bucciarati is a man that has stuck with the same haircut and pattern of clothing since he was twelve years old.
Of course he’s still not over you by the time of the inevitable reunion. Like Giorno, he’s definitely a ‘one love’ sort of man.
Getting contacted by you felt like a dream… but it also brought forth initial hesitation.
Due to the specific turn his life took, he had to leave a lot of things behind. Some more regrettable than others… and you were one of his biggest regrets for a long time.
Regardless, his heart won that day- as he agreed to meeting up with you faster than he would care to admit.
The excitement and build up to it after a date was set is a beast in of itself. The prospect of finally seeing you again after all these years fills his chest with a warmth he’s only ever associated with you.
His mind whirls, all his thoughts leading back to the hope that he’ll get to know the person you have matured into.
Your career, hobbies, how your family is doing, the path you’ve been walking down ever since he’d left its course far too long ago… and him praying there’s a distinct lack of a ring on your left hand.
Bruno’s glad to say that his hopes were well-placed. Upon seeing you again, you proved to be just as eager to know how he’s been doing all this time.
Your questions leave him feeling bittersweet; something he knew would happen.
How could he even begin to explain himself? Would he even want to? You deserve more than a short explanation or a lie. But he cannot and will not bring you into gang affairs either. And if he was honest…. where would he even begin?
“I committed murder to protect my father when I was twelve and ended up entangled in gang affairs. Sorry for not giving you a phone call.”
… it needs work, to put it lightly.
He’s not the type to succumb to fear but… it’s difficult not to stress over what you would think of him if he’s completely honest with you. It’s a testament to how deeply special you are to him; hardly ever getting this mentally worked up over anything outside his beloved team.
The push and pull of wanting to be honest with you- yet not wanting to risk putting a target on your back.
Whether it’s due to the years of separation or just the undeserved kindness you offer him, at some point, you admit to only thinking of those old days fondly.
Regardless of being quite startled with his sudden absence in your life, you couldn’t hold it against him. You knew of his parents divorce, and the last thing you had heard, was that Bruno’s father was in the hospital.
At first, he’s just resigns himself into being gratefyl you had it within yourself to forgive him.
But how can he hope to ignore… how lovely of a person you have grown up to be- inside and out. In the long run, it just doesn’t happen. His feelings truly snowballing for the first time in years.
Suddenly, he feels like a foolish child again. Only now, he must be doing something right because you could cause traffic to stop with the way you start to look at him.
There’s a warm nostalgia to you. Someone who knows him; truly knows him. Outside of his work and the contradictions he over for it for years.
And it gets to a point where Bruno resolves he must tell you how he feels. And by then, he won’t dally.
You’re back in his life again, and he’s sure as hell not leaving. Especially not without expressing his feelings.
Only took him short of nine years.
Leone Abbacchio
-> ‘We’re Just Coworkers’
He doesn’t necessarily meet people outside Passione, not one to go out of his way to seek companionship.
He has the team. He has Bucciarati. There isn’t much he wants, or feels like he can, ask for.
It’s because of this that you both are most likely to meet through the organization.
And there’s no doubt that Abbacchio is… apathetic to your position in the gang at first.
Now, he’s not as harsh on you as he was comparatively to Giorno. You’re not a fifteen year old with a savior complex and a tendency to act with a sort of righteous grandeur.
So, in short, you’re already doing great as far as he’s concerned.
Not that he warms up to you quickly; quite the opposite. Weeks will pass before he starts to slowly accept and involve you in any meaningful capacity. A guy like him just needs time to get used to someone so new to him… lots and lots of time.
Once that need has been met, he figures you’re alright.
Not bad company- in or out of Passione business. Far favorable to other people around him, as far as he’s concerned. He finds that you’re much better to converse with than Mista or Fugo.
It’s in his nature to compare a little bit, so when he starts seeing you from a fairer perspective… that’s when a quiet appreciation forms.
Alas, his heart is not as immovable as he likes believing it to be.
Over time, the two of you start to metaphorically lean on one another.
It starts off professionally enough, relying on one another in the heat of battle. Then, it gets to a more personal level- quieter conversations maintained between the two of you beneath the usual noise of the others interacting just a foot or two away.
Still, you two only work together. It’s professional. Without question. At least, that’s the case if Abbacchio or you are asked about it directly.
But the others are oh-so-quick-to-point-out that him letting you crash on his bed during particularly exhausting nights is not exactly platonic behavior. Nor is just how sucked into conversations the two of you get, or how much time you spend one-on-one.
And Abbacchio is nothing if not the type to do the exact opposite of what everyone says.
He’s going to deny it for months. Hell, years if you let him.
Never mind the fact the two of you already act like a couple. Getting ‘mistaken’ as one when going out, regardless if it’s just the two of you or not. Each time, you’re both insistent that you’re merely work friends.
It would be ten times more frustrating if there wasn’t any truth to it that neither of you are prepared to admit to.
It takes a healthy amount of whack cartoonish logic for things to finally fall into place. Being locked in a small room for twenty minutes, or possibly an accidental kiss to the lips… that sort of thing.
Guido Mista
-> Coffee Shop Regular
Mista likes the simple things in life, no doubt.
There’s many ways that fact manifests. One example is that he often wanders around the city in order to check out local businesses. Diners, secondhand stores, and little coffee shops. He knows the area well, and likes sparking up conversations with the people he comes across.
And a cute worker at one of his favorite coffee shops? Makes his day even better, he’d figure.
He was already a regular at your place of employment long before you were hired. Meaning, when he saw a new face behind the counter, he had to offer a hello with a relaxed smile on his face.
And to his credit, it was incredibly easy to like him.
The type of customer who’s always in a decent mood, not too impatient, and always knowing what he wanted to order long before walking in.
Sprinkle in a pleasant ‘hello’ or a lighthearted joke every now and then, and he starts to notice your face brightening every time he enters the shop.
He won’t argue against the idea it fills him with something far deeper than pride.
Beyond finding you initially attractive, he considers you a good worker. He cannot imagine being a barista is always easy, but he’d care to point out that you make it look easy. You know his order by memory after a while, and conversation with you comes naturally.
And soon, the workplace barrier is finally shattered. Happening so casually it was practically thoughtless.
One day, Mista walked into the store just when you were sent on a break. He greeted you as always, and offered to sit with you while you decompressed with a cup of coffee of your own.
That’s when he’d say that something a bit more concrete formed. More real, past the relationship of worker and patron.
And he grows unapologetically forward by then too.
He’s not the type to hit on you at work, but certainly not above blatantly asking for your number after he felt it may be appropriate to do so.
He finds it to be a casual and natural progression, something that is in his nature to embrace.
Like Giorno, though, he’ll drag out the time before asking you out just in order to tease you. He doesn’t automatically figure out that you might be into him, but he’ll get the hint by the time you two start calling one another regularly.
He’s not easily affected by the others teasing him over you, either. He openly admits that he’s into you, why get embarrassed?
Now, if someone makes a comment about it in front of you, then he’ll get flustered. An emotion expressed through frustration and defensiveness.
Regardless of that, it’s such a relaxed progression that at some point he thinks meeting you may have been fate. There’s a ton of coffee shops all around Naples, yet you chose to work at one of the small handful he regularly likes visiting.
If his life is predetermined, like he believes it is, then he’s grateful fate is on his side.
Pannacotta Fugo
-> Friends to Lovers
This man looks at someone with a view on love like Giorno and scoffs with distain.
The notion of ‘love at first sight’ is one that is only entertained by foolish and idealistic individuals, according to Fugo. Rolling his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips… he thinks that mindset is ridiculous and is unafraid to express it.
Hell, romantic relationships aren’t even on his radar in general.
He doesn’t look down on or think negatively of anyone in one, of course. But it’s hardly ever on his mind. Focused on Passione and the team he is proud to be a part of.
And that doesn’t change one bit upon meeting you.
As usual, such a thing doesn’t cross his mind once. The prospect of a potential new ally and friend is the only one he cares to ponder, even if you start off on the right foot. He’s a little distant, but polite and fair enough to give you a chance.
Good thing he did to, as far as hindsight is concerned.
A funny individual and someone who hardly ever makes him want to flip a table? He’s glad to call you his friend once a foundation of trust is established.
If he thinks about it, he’d have to admit to himself there’s something very earnest and warm about the relationship.
You’re a good conversationalist, he respects your intelligence, and even silence around you is comfortable.
More than that, you’re reliable. Stress doesn’t come quite as easy whenever you’re around. And when it does, you understand him. You know just what to say and how to say it. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to express the same kindness.
He starts thinking of you when you’re not around, especially when he’s alone. Thinking of anything from a fond or humorous memory, or simply the curve of your smile.
Oh… oh no.
Tackling his own growing feelings is a lengthy process. He wasn’t interested in seeking out a partner, but he catches feelings before he even realizes it.
And figuring out your feelings on the matter? Forget it.
He won’t say a thing unless you make a move yourself, too wary to even admit he could realistically do something himself. A fact the others are quite keen on reminding him of.
His insecurity won’t last forever, though.
Being around you is such a joy that it’s hard to get trapped in his own mind in the moment. That smile on your face, and sentences leaving your lips in the familiar tones of your voice…
You are his friend first and foremost; someone he feels he can really talk to and trust.
And that’s why you turn out to be everything he didn’t know he’d ever hope for.
Narancia Ghirga
-> Will They, Won’t They?
Giorno is going to start making Narancia pay for his therapy appointments. Abbacchio once made a sarcastic remark about wanting to start drinking again because of this. Mista has given Narnacia approximately twenty three lectures over the subject. Fugo is pulling his hair out.
And really, who can blame any of them?
Having to watch you and Narancia interact on a regular basis is a frustrating experience- to put it lightly.
That feeling only heightened by the fact that it’s something no one feels as though they can even comment directly on whenever you and Narancia are both around. Simply swallowing any words bubbling to the surface.
All this to say, Narancia falls for you quickly and he falls hard.
At first, there wasn't a single complaint to be had from anyone on the team. On the contrary, the others took the time to hype him up with wide smiles and pats on his back.
Narancia himself is excited to be experiencing something as genuinely sweet and grounded as a crush, and that elation was contagious.
But then a couple weeks pass... then a month... then another month... then another....
If the others were a smidge more invasive, they would've just pushed you two in front of one another yelling 'to just get on with it already' months ago.
Specifically Fugo, who actively lets it get to him in a way that Narancia merely huffs at. Sometimes offering a noncommittal response if he feels it’s necessary.
It doesn't matter how much his former tutor gets on his case, Narancia’s not budging. A light blush present on his face when he insists for the hundredth time that there's no way you could possibly feel the same.
Your own friends go through a very similar situation on the other end of things.
Similarly with someone like Abbacchio, the two of you act like a couple far before anything is set in stone. Unlike him, it's less causal and downright mind-boggling to the people around you.
Your legs lazily draped over his lap, going on drives that last for hours at a time, one barely ever seen without the other, and talking about each other constantly.
The latter became so frequent that Giorno once had to pull Narancia aside and tell him to stop mentioning you at Passione meetings.
Narancia has to bit his lip just to stop himself, but he manages. Much to the Don’s relief- never wanting to have that kind of conversation with a friend again.
Giorno cannot and won't try to control him outside of work, though, so it was merely half the battle.
Not that Narancia particularly minds the others' reactions to it very much.
Months into his affections and he's gotten used to the constant stream of teasing. Besides, he lies to himself figures that maybe they're just jealous. He wouldn’t blame them if that’s the case, finding you as special as any person can be.
Regardless of what anyone says, the sweetness is there.
An amusement to be had over how truly clueless the both of you are, despite interacting with flushed faces and stuttering words. It’s sweet, then annoying to the point where it circles around to being funny.
But you and Narancia retreat into your own little world where all of that melts away. He’s loyal, and since you hold his heart, it would be an understatement to say you’re just important to him.
Who will give in and admit the crush first? It's up in the air.
#this fic was brought tomb for two by lebanon hanover#johnny’s work#jjba#jojo’s bizarre adventure#golden wind#jjba part 5#giorno giovanna x reader#bruno bucellati x reader#leone abbacchio x reader#guido mista x reader#pannacotta fugo x reader#narancia ghirga x reader#headcanons#sfw#writing#fanfiction#fluff#manga#anime
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Can you talk about your thoughts on hinny? I have no problem with people shipping it but to me personally it just doesn't work. It feels like Rowling tried too hard or maybe just wasn't good at writing romance and messed it up. Maybe it was too rushed? The ship doesn't work for me but I'd love to hear your views.
Okay, sorry it took a while to answer this, I actually have a lot of thoughts and I have posts on some of them that I hope to get out soon-ish. I also wanted to go back to the books to make sure I'm not talking out of my ass. But I don't like Hinny, never did. And my reasons are kinda divided into three categories.
Disclaimer: I don't have anything against anyone who ships hinny, it's just really not my thing and I don't see it working with the way I see their characters.
And that's like the core of it. I just don't see Harry and Ginny as compatible on a character level. That and their relationship never really read as believable to me in the books.
The 3 categories I mentioned are:
Harry's character
Firstly, I think Harry is gay. Not bi, but gay. I think he was never actually attracted to a woman and I have a whole post to prove it. So, because that's how I read his character, I just can't really see him with any girl.
(Now, I don't think JKR intended for Harry to come off as gay, but he did)
Secondly, he never thought about Ginny, like, up until book 6, and even during large portions of book 6, he just isn't thinking about Ginny as a potential romantic interest. And when he does think about Ginny in the final two books it never reads like he really likes her. It reads like they decided they are dating, but I don't think Harry knows why he supposedly likes her. He just decided he does, but doesn't know why. It was kind of the same with Cho, where he said he had a crush on her and was nervous around her, but if you asked Harry what he likes about her, his answer would be: "Ehh...."
Like, Harry doesn't really seem to know why he's dating Ginny, and neither do I. It's just how it's written.
2. Ginny's character
So, this is again my opinion, but I don't like Ginny. I just don't like her character. I wish her off the page whenever she talks.
And, when it comes to shipping, for me, I need to find both the characters involved interesting and fun for me to explore to ship them together and care about the pairing. As I don't like Ginny and don't really care for her, I can't really ship her with anyone, not really. It's not even like I hate her (not the way I hate Dumbledore), I just find a lot of her actions and behavior iffy and she annoys me more often than not.
I'm not going to list everything I don't like about Ginny (some of it appears in the rest of this post). But her treatment of Fluer, for example, really soured her character to me. Like, sure, Ginny's young, but, she's 15, and by that point, I think she should take responsibility for being awful to Fluer who was nothing but nice to all of them. Envy is not a good look for Ginny.
3. How they are portrayed together
Like I mentioned in the Harry section, their romance just never really felt there to me. The descriptions were off and left me feeling annoyed at their scenes together more than anything else.
Again, I'm writing a more comprehensive post about it, but the gist of it is that Harry's thoughts about Ginny in books 6 and 7 are weirdly detached for a supposed crush at best or outright uncomfortable for me to read at worst.
Now, we know Harry can describe characters he finds attractive in greater detail. There is none of that detail with Ginny. He only mentioned her hair color and that her hair is long and smells nice. Like, he doesn't talk about her eye color, her facial structure, eye shape (like he does sometimes with characters he does find attractive) — nothing. He doesn't even call her pretty once! At least he referred to Cho Chang as pretty twice in the series.
In the books there is never a scene (not even one) that convinces me they should be together. Like, they have no chemistry. They kinda remind me of Ron and Lavender tbh. They make out and are present in the same space often, but they never talk. Not really. I don't think Ginny actually knows Harry all that well because he never honestly talks to her about anything real. They don't really have chemistry or a relationship, they're just together. At least, that's how I always saw them.
And yes, Harry has his jealousy moments (that are portrayed so weirdly I always narrow my eyes at them to make sure they were actually there, but that's a whole other post about Harry's chest monster of jealousy), but he still doesn't really explain what he finds in Ginny. He doesn't mention she's attractive or pretty at any point, nor does he mention anything he particularly likes about her personality (except that she doesn't weep like Cho and is good at Quidditch. Neither of which are particularly good basis for a relationship).
Like, Ginny mentions why she likes Harry and that she does multiple times. Harry by contrast, just feels so incredibly uninvolved in his own relationship, to me.
Also, personally, I just find the setup of their relationship iffy. Like Ginny outright says she never gave up on Hary and always knew they'd end up together. It means, that since she was 11 (or earlier), she was crushing on Harry, never gave up on her crush, and considered them ending up together fate. She dated other guys to make Harry jealous and pay attention to her, and that's just really gross. I don't like her long obsessive crush on Harry or her treatment of the other guys she dated on her way to get Harry.
Proof of that, for those wondering:
“I never really gave up on you,” she [Ginny] said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.”
(Half-Blood Prince, page 647)
She literally said she dated other guys so Harry would take notice of her. That just grosses me out.
So, no, I don't like Hinny (or Ginny).
#anti hinny#harry potter#harry potter thoughts#hp thoughts#hp#that being said I don't particularly like drarry either#or most harry parings really#like there are parings with him I don't mind in fic#but I'm not truly passionate about any of them#there is 1 harry pairing I actively like#but I got into it on accident and its with a very minor character#harry is my precious boy and deserves only the best#that's why I'm so picky about who I ship him with#ginny weasley critical#anti ginny weasley#ship talk
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⋆ ★ HOW THEY WOULD CONFESS — MOUTHWASHING HC
This is how I think the Mouthwashing cast would confess to you!
INCLUDES: The entire cast
I’m actually so obsessed with this game lol. I hope you enjoy this! <3
✧. ┊ Anya wouldn't believe that you like her, but she still would want to get her feelings off her chest. She's such a sweetheart, and of course the way she'd confess to you would mimic that. Anya wouldn't want to give you anything short of the best.
She would learn all of your favorite things over time, writing them all down in a notepad to keep track of them.
Your favorite animal? She gets you a stuffie. You favorite snacks? She gets all of them. Your favorite flowers? Custom bouquet.
Can she truly afford all of this? No. Does she still spend this absurd amount of money just to please you? Absolutely.
Anya would probably take you somewhere quiet and secluded, as she'd want her confession to private. It's an intimate moment, and not everyone deserves to take place in it. It's just you and her there, and that's how she'd like it.
The poor girl is so nervous, but she gets through it, and thank goodness. Who wouldn't love her? Why wouldn't you love her?
✧. ┊ Curly is confident, not only in himself, but in his certainty that you like him. He wouldn't confess if he wasn't already 100% sure that you were into him. He definitely waited for months before he actually said anything to you, testing the waters to ensure that he wouldn't ruin things between the two of you.
Let's be so real Curly would never want to ruin what the two of you have, so if that meant never confessing, he just wouldn't, but since he's so sure, it wouldn't hurt to say something.
Curly would take you out somewhere really nice, at least as nice as he could afford at the time, and confess to you there. Truthfully, he wouldn't even need to confess, because he'd probably have invited you there as a date anyway. Curly is just dramatic, guys, but he's so so sweet.
He would bring you flowers and he'd pay for the meal.
Absolutely zero fear in this man. None. He confesses to you, and he expects a yes (that he receives).
✧. ┊ Daisuke is such a goof, but he'd be so scared of you rejecting him. He'd play it off as a joke to mask his nervousness, but if you seem to reciprocate, then he'd actually confess to you.
His fear of rejection would probably hold him back from confessing to you for a long time, but he'd do his best to be confident when he confesses to you. Afterall, who wants a man who can't even confess without becoming a mess, right (We love you exactly how you are, Daisuke. You're so precious.)?
In all honesty, Daisuke would confess to you during a random hangout session after he hyped himself up in a bathroom for a good 15 minutes. He probably got a pep talk from Swansea, too.
He can't even look you in the eye when he confesses properly, he's too scared that he'll potentially see a look of disgust or rejection on your face, and he can't bear that thought, so he chooses to stare at the ground the entire time.
✧. ┊ Swansea just tells you outright that he's into you. That man thinks that he's too old to be playing all those mind games. He's in it to win it, okay? It's either you want him or you don't.
I don't think there'd be anything special to Swansea's confession. He'd probably just tell you in the middle of a random conversation. No warning, no nothing. Y'all are just sitting there, chilling, and he's just like, "I'm into you."
Nothing more, nothing less. That man has nothing to lose.
Swansea is fearless when it comes to confessing. Not even an ounce of nervousness within him.
✧. ┊ If Jimmy is confessing then it's not for any good reason. He wants something that he knows he can only get if you're his. So he tells you he likes you, despite the fact that he couldn't care less about you outside of what you can give him.
He would take time to figure out what you like. He really wants to know you so he knows exactly how to get you to want him -- to need him.
Jimmy would bring you all of your favorite things, sit you down, and tell you that he has feelings for you, and that he has for a while (he doesn't, and he hasn't).
He lives to see the smile on your face when he confesses, because he knows that he just got exactly what he wanted from you.
#kodi-time#mouthwashing#mouthwashing headcanons#mouthwashing headcanon#anya mouthwashing#nurse anya#curly mouthwashing#captain curly#daisuke mouthwashing#intern daisuke#swansea mouthwashing#engineer swansea#jimmy mouthwashing#anya#curly#daisuke#swansea#jimmy#headcanons#i hate jimmy so much#can you tell that i actually hate jimmy#take responsibility#anya deserved so much better#i love anya#i love daisuke
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Forbidden Cloth || Stiles Stilinski x Reader
Summary: Stiles uncovers a strong disdain for Ugly Christmas Sweaters. Words: 1k Warnings: just stiles being cute af so don't read if you're not into that Notes: guys i rambled so much in this
hope he's bringing me love this christmas cause i deserve you here ✩
"Do you like my sweater?" Your voice carried such sweetness; an innocence that made a young man's heart swell with an overwhelming warmth. With that tone, you could get away with whatever you wanted and he would be right behind you, following every move, your cheerleader for life. You stood in his kitchen doorway, arms stretched between the dark wooden arches, a sense of 'ta-da' shown on the high upturn of your smile and showman's stance. And Stiles would have happily played along - singing your praises, throwing compliments - if it wasn't for the hideous fabric gracing your frame. His face dropped; speechlessness weighing down his tongue, brows furrowed and head tilted as he was truly lost with what to say. Your sweater soon absorbed every ounce of his focus and Stiles hated it. Truly, absolutely hated it. His jaw moved as words gathered yet remained unspoken, until, in candid Stiles' fashion, he let his mouth run before he could think it through, "What the hell is that?" Your brows furrowed, only mildly taken aback by his outright and unfiltered way of finally speaking. You hummed, "What are you on about?" Your question was rhetorical, to you at least, knowing full well that the itchy and bright bundle of fabric that you wore was anything but appealing. But you couldn't help yourself - messing around with the awkward mess that was your boyfriend was something that never failed to put a smile on your face. With pursed lips, you gazed down at your sweater, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the exaggerated embellishments. You hummed once more as faux naiveness contorted your features, "You don't like my sweater, baby?"
"I-I..." Stiles mumbled, trepidation sneaking inside his thoughts, trying to convince him to avoid offence. But the thing about Stiles Stilinski, even though he is the epitome of support and determination, he also has a bad habit of forgetting to filter his opinions before they escape his busy mind. "Like it? But it's so... so ugly."
It was quick when you saw his eyes widen; large warm irises of brown complementing his raised brows and ajar jaw. It was as if the mere second the words left his lips, Stiles realised what he said, and how much trouble he could be in. A deer caught in headlights, frozen and unmoving despite the rapid racing of his heart as it reverberated in his chest. He was potentially, and utterly, screwed.
"Wait, you think it's ugly?" You repeated his words, shot them straight back with a delicate timbre as your hands ran down the sides of the mismatched patterned wool. Stiles was looking worried now, and your capacity for games was wearing thin when you could see how he was beginning to pale. You managed a chuckle, filled with light and sincerity, as you began making your way toward him, "Good thing that was the whole point."
He watched you snort, his face dumbfounded, amusement breaking at the seams as his brows rose and the corners of his lips lifted in absolute puzzlement. His body was tense as he had braced himself for the blowback of how his unfiltered words could have caused harm, how they could have made you sad and insecure. He would never hurt you, not intentionally, and the guilt was hasty when it seeped deep into his bones and set every alert and emotion alight.
But now he was staring at you and that beautiful smile that was burnt in the back of his mind - living there rent-free, happily, most likely for the rest of his life. And by god, did it make him smile back with just as much joviality.
"I-I don't... baby, if you don't like it, why are you wearing it?" His words laughed but remained quiet as you got closer. It took everything for him to not come face to face with the bright and retched cloth in front of him as he opted to instead stand, eventually towering over your shorter frame, his hands large and delicate as they cupped your cheeks so habitually. Thumbs rubbed tentatively against skin; the touch was barely felt, but it was enough to provoke a red blush to gather where Stiles trailed.
You went to speak but froze in place - his childish gaze making you melt into the backdrop of your Christmas-covered apartment, always so mesmerised after all this time spent together. He had an effect on you, and he seemed to know it by the way his eyes had a mischievous glint that complemented well with his bitten lip.
"It's a thing, wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas." You breathed as your hands pressed to his chest, maintaining some sort of stability as he continued to courteously invade your space. His head tilted as he once did before, curiosity in the form of large puppy eyes and relaxed brows now contorting his features. It made you laugh within your word's undertones, "I've seen people do it on social media and it's cute, you know? Couples wearing matching sweaters -"
"You got me one too?" Stiles intercepted, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice. He loved you, so much, probably too much, but just the idea of wearing something as off-putting as your own sweater was something that made him cringe. "There's no way that you're gonna get me in one of those, sweetheart. I'd burn down the world for you, hell, I'd help you bury a body, but I'm not doing this ugly sweater thing."
He put his metaphorical foot down, but you saw no harm. If there was one thing that you admired so incredibly much about Stiles Stilinski, it would be his outright honesty - sometimes confused for an unfiltered mess, but you loved it regardless. You smiled up at him and he smiled back, unspoken understanding building the foundation of your relationship and it made the man lean down and press a gentle peck to your forehead.
His lips dragged down to your cheeks, your lips, under your ear before he whispered against your sensitive skin, "Alright, now go take that hideous thing off, and that cute little skirt while you're at it."
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