#he doesn't want to care about her (at least in the capacity that he does more than that of an employer or even a friend)

[theladyfae]

i think human nature/family of blood is a really good two parter in how it manages to show how full of shit ten is 🫶

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny the Guy Who Won't Die

He lives in Gotham, and he is just A Guy. Nothing weird about him, he's just there to study/work/help Lady Gotham to lift her curse/on vacation with Sam. Point is, he is not there to cause trouble and there's no GIW on his tail. Just a dude living his (after)life.

And Gotham, being Gotham, still finds a way to be annoying. There are mugging attempts, robbery, Rogues running around. Only Danny really doesn't want to deal with any of it.

Now there's a dilemma. If he uses his powers to fight, it will sooner or later come to Bats' attention. And if he fights as a human, it will also alert some of the Bats since he doesn't really do a great job at keeping his power levels low. Not to mention the fact he is really not enthusiastic about accidentally punching someone hard enough he sends them to a hospital.

What does he do instead? He pulls the 'I guess I'll die' act.

So every time he is attacked, he just plays dead. The mugger shot him in the chest? He falls down and stops breathing. Caught up in the middle of a Poison Ivy attack? Skewers himself on the vine and goes lax. Scarecrow's Fear Gas? Very dramatically chokes himself and plays a corpse. He makes sure to disappear before any ambulances arrive later, and it all goes well for a few months - he is just a casualty, who cares, really - until one day, he runs into that same mugger who shot him in the chest a while ago.

The man does a double take. Danny doesn't notice - he's been mugged so many times, who has the brain capacity to remember all of those fuckers. But the rumor goes out anyway.

A guy-who-won't-die. It's more of a city legend, really, and the Bats don't give it much thought since, well, it sounds stupid and not very important. A rumor of some man who was shot dead and then showed up like nothing happened? Yeah, it's probably because the mugger didn't check if he was actually dead. That happens. Maybe it wasn't even the same man, Gotham is a big city. If anything, hey, at least that was one less casualty? That's a good thing.

That is, until one day, they show up to Joker's hostage situation and witness the clown screaming at one of the hostages. He is so enraged he is shaking, spit flying out of his mouth, and, contrary to the usual Joker's evil sneers and maniacal laughter, he seems just... furious. But, like, the normal-human-level furious. The 'I just lost the last ounce of patience with you' furious.

"Don't you look away from me, you think I don't remember you?! Na-ah, I do. You were the one I drowned in the shark tank last week! And you were the one run through the chainsaw trap two weeks before that! And you were in the guillotine!!! I saw your fucking head get deattached from your body, how the fuck are you here again?!"

And the guy he is screaming at just looks at him, confused and incomprehensive.

"Um, I'm pretty sure I'd remember getting my head cut off, you know? So, err, wrong guy."

"Wrong guy my fucking ass-"

Joker is so distracted by his screaming match that it makes it almost too easy for the Bats to fight him down and drag to Arkham. Yet, a few of them get just a bit suspicious.

Now, imagine all the shenanigans when they try keeping a watch on Danny the Won't Die Guy.

[telephoniii]

WHY WOULD A FELLOW WANT A GIRL LIKE HER?

☆彡 in which malleus and leona fight for your affections

leona kingscholar x gn!reader & malleus draconia x gn!reader

word counter: 4K

warnings: reader is prefect, cursing, love triangle, possible ooc

a/n: based off of the song “stepsister’s lament” from cinderella the musical— hence the title. one of my favorite works!! I had fun writing this!! both mal and leona are capital p PETTY and I'm living for it. i hope you enjoy :>

No matter how much he claims he doesn't care, Leona finds himself hissing at the sight of you and Malleus together. He wants to deny it so badly— but deep down he knows. 

He knows as he glares at you, sitting on a bench beside the fae, giggling and having a jolly old time. He’s well aware of what he’s feeling as he scoffs, telling the greedy hyena beside him that he’s returning to the dorm.

And he’s fully conscious as he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling; unable to get the image of you and that spiny horned reptile out of his head. 

He’s jealous. Envious. And any damn variation of the sort.

Out of all the people you could choose to spend your time with, you pick that slimy lizard?! 

Your taste is questionable—who’s he kidding? Absolutely awful. Really, going for the guy who doesn’t age? Ever think about how awkward it’s going to be when you’re getting hip pains and he still looks like a teenager? Hell, he’s not one for settling down but wouldn’t you at least want someone with the capacity of growing old together?!

What does that scaley little scumbag do for you anyway?

Sure, Malleus does gift you little trinkets you’ve mentioned in passing. Leona isn’t blind; he can see the way you light up at these gifts. He distinctly remembers seeing a dorky gargoyle keychain on your bag. It stank of that fae freak. 

Yet you seemed to adore the tiny statue, so much so that you went on a small rant about the history. To Leona’s surprise, he listened to every single word you had to say about it. Gargoyles are always way more interesting when it’s you talking about it. 

Though, everything involving you is more interesting nowadays… He had to resist the urge to sand that stupid little toy right then and there.

And he’s well aware of the ‘secret’ walks the two of you have at unholy times of the night, talking about whatever that overgrown lizard is interested in. The way you speak of it like nobody knows is irritating. Only an idiot wouldn’t pick up on it. 

Too bad NRC is full of idiots.

It’s not like it matters too much anyway. He doubts Malleus has the charisma to charm you. The guy isn’t invited to a whole lot of events for a reason. While Leona knows he can come off as a prick, he’s still a prince nonetheless. He was taught how to flatter and flirt— he remembers being surrounded by a bunch of bootlickers as a cub. 

He isn’t intimidated by Malleus’s magic all too much either. Although he’s more than sure you wouldn’t fall for a person solely based on their strength, Leona believes he could take on Malleus. The lizard is painfully predictable after all. 

Not to mention most of his ‘shows of power’ are akin to temper tantrums. If dueling wasn’t banned, that pathetic excuse of a dragon would be dragged in the mud by him.

Everything Malleus does for you, he could do better. He’s sure of it. 

Beneath the surface, is he scared of coming second place to yet another person? Terrified that he’ll always be the second-best choice? That all the time spent with you would never be more than that? Maybe. 

But those night terrors are lessened when he sees you approach— knowing he was the sole reason you were there. 

Leona feels his heart race as you sit beside him, casually talking about your day and whatever hijinks you got into. He worries you might hear just how fast it beats for you when you nap with him, laying your head on his chest. 

As he hears you mumble his name in your sleep, he feels reassured that he’s your one. 

I mean— why would someone as great as you ever want a flimsy, little lizard? Especially when he’s right here, ready to be your pillow in hard and happy times. 

~

A green thunderbolt struck through the sky. Coincidentally, you happened to be napping on Leona outside when this happened— shaking the both of you awake.

Did Malleus do this on purpose?… Of course not. He’s not immature enough to do that, unlike a certain lion he knows.

It’s not his fault that you two were cuddling outside when he was ‘testing’ out something with his thunder.

That doesn’t mean he was any less satisfied watching you get up and walk back to your dorm, leaving that mangy cat by himself.

He never understood what value you gained from hanging around someone as…unusual as Kingscholar. A ‘prince’ who lays around, sleeping the day away? What a joke! Wouldn’t you rather have a prince— better yet a ruler— who’s proactive in his kingdom?

That flappy street cat is better suited to accompany Grim rather than yourself. 

He doubts Kingscholar would hold open the door for you like he does! 

Malleus has heard it’s a human custom to do so; ever since then, he’s now perfected the art of swiftly rushing over to a door and slamming it open for you. It delights him when you giggle at his antics. He bets that idiotic lion would never be able to do that— Kingscholar barely moves anyway. It’s like he’s glued to that bed of his.

Kingscholar seems as though he’d let the door slam in your face. That alone just shows how superior Malleus is to him. 

Although, Kingscholar’s words of advice indeed seemed to matter to you quite a lot. Every time you had attracted chaos, you commonly turned to the lazy loaf and asked for his perspective. And each time, without fail, Mal had watched you take the prince’s suggestion in stride and use it.

It pains him to admit it, sometimes Kingscholar can be rather clever. Malleus is somewhat glad that said lion uses his intelligence to keep you safe.

He doesn’t know what, but something about Kingscholar’s mere existence seems to relax you. Malleus has seen you look at ease in a way he’s never witnessed before when you simply just lay beside the other student. He watches with envy as Kingscholar’s tail protectively wraps around your thigh. 

As long as you’re safe… Malleus supposes he can bear through you hanging out with the lion.

That won’t stop him from interrupting the two of you whenever he feels the time is right. Sudden bolts of thunder, random objects falling from the sky and hitting Kingscholar on the head, out-of-the-blue power outages…

It’s all fair play to him. You still get to hang out with that lazy excuse of a prince anyway.

It doesn’t matter too much to him— at least that’s what he tells himself. It’s not as though you’d leave him to hang out with Kingscholar; no, you’d never. 

You’ll stay, won’t you?

He’s sure of it as you walk beside him in the dead of night. Nobody else knows, nor do they need to as you two stroll along the campus. Seeing your enthusiastic smile next to him as you talk about your dreams fills him with unexplainable joy. Malleus fights the urge to hold your hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

You seemed to have read his mind— you always do understand him like no other— as you glanced down at your hands. A small giggle leaves your lips before you inch your hand closer to his.

“Can we…?” You hum with hopeful and amused eyes.

Wordlessly, Malleus indulges now with your consent. The warmth of your hand compared to the polarizing coldness of his made him feel dizzy. In a good way. 

You’ll never leave him. At least not when you're hand in hand together like this.

~

“Man I’m starving— Hurry it up, henchman!” A familiar, squeaky voice demanded as Grim pushed on your shoulder. 

“Patience, patience. This is very important. It can determine my mood for the rest of the day.” You murmured, standing strong despite Grim’s efforts. Narrowing your eyes, you stared at the different lunch options. 

What were you going to eat today?

“Prefect has a point. Your nutrition affects the way you function.” Jack shrugs behind Grim, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You say that like they’re going to eat something healthy.” Ace yawns, stretching out his arm and lightly hitting Deuce. “Hurry it up, Prefect! Clock’s ticking!”

“Fine! Fine!” Quickly, you grabbed the same thing you’ve gotten for the past week. A series of groans emerged from behind you.

“All that time just to get that?” Ace crossed his arms, giving you an unamused look. 

“Okay, I’ll get something else then—“

“—Nononononono!” Practically everyone behind you yelled in a panic.

“Just go sit down ‘n secure us a table already!” Epel huffs, to which you happily comply.

You scout out the area, looking for a free table to sit at. Geez, was the cafeteria always this packed?

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you spot a familiar, robotic Shroud waving to you from a table.

“Prefect!” Ortho chirps, his voice synthesizer going a pitch up. Just as you were about to walk over, you felt your blazer being pulled on from the back. Suddenly, you were yanked away.

“Ay! Watch it—!” You grab the hand that was pulling on you, turning around to come face to face with a smug Ruggie.

“Leona’s callin’ you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He didn’t want to send a text or call? He just had to send a goon to come and get me?” 

Ruggie nodded with a cheeky grin.

“Yep.”

Groaning, you turn towards Ortho and wave him goodbye, signaling that you are going to leave. “Lead the way, hyena.”

And with that, you found yourself walking through the hallways on your way to Savanaclaw. You hope Ortho told the others about you leaving. It kinda slipped your mind to tell them.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you heard munching coming from Ruggie— “Wait, that's my lunch you’re eating! How’d you even…!? When did you…?!”

It also slipped your mind that Ruggie is both a great thief and greedy when it comes to food.

“Shishishishi… you left yourself open, Prefect! I’m sure Leona will get you something else to eat. He always does.”

“Always is a stretch.” You grumble, watching Ruggie eat your food. “Is it?” You didn’t want to ponder his question. 

Instead, you turn your gaze ahead of you and focus on walking… At least that’s what you would be doing if you didn’t walk face-first into somebody. 

“Gah! I’m so sorry—“ ��Child of man.” 

Only one person used that nickname for you. Looking up, you were met with Malleus’s amused smile. 

“Impeccable timing,” The fae seemed happy to see you. You could see his fangs the way he was smiling. Ruggie was unsettled but thankful that Malleus was ignoring his presence. “Would you accompany me for lunch? Lilia, Sebek, and Silver will be there too, of course.” 

You were about to accept right away before you felt a light hit to your side. Ruggie sneakily elbowed you. Before you could curse at him, he gave you a look and— Oh, right. You were going with him to spend lunch with Leona already. A small frown made its way on your lips as you turned back to Malleus.

Great sevens, it was hard to turn him down. Especially when he was all cheery like this. 

Fortunately— or unfortunately, you didn’t have to. A roaring voice from behind you did it for you.

“Herbivore’s coming with me. They agreed to it already.” Leona huffed, a scowl clear on his face as he approached. Ruggie seemed surprised.

“Leona?! What’re you—“ “Did they now? I didn’t exactly hear them say no to my proposal though.” Malleus interrupted Ruggie, whose ears went flat against his head. 

“They don’t need to. They’ve already got plans.” The lion growled, narrowing his eyes at the other third year. 

Malleus stepped forward, the fae’s irritation growing. “Why do you insist on speaking for them so vigorously? My dear child of man, don’t let him dictate your choices—“

“I’m not doing shit. Just stating what they already agreed to.” Leona also stepped forward, refusing to back down. 

You were starting to get worried and turned your head to murmur something to Ruggie. Except Ruggie wasn’t there. The hyena snuck off already. Bastard. A voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Well, Prefect? Who would you rather accompany? Kingscholar— who’ll likely laze around the whole lunch— or I?”

“Damn lizard…” Leona grumbled under his breath before shaking his head and facing you. “Well? The choice is yours. I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze flickering between the two. “Well… I—“

Before you could finish, you were interrupted by a loud ring.

The lunch bell had rung. It was time to head back to class.

~

“Are you doing okay?” You ask, shifting closer to Leona. He lets out a small grunt in response, his eyes closed as he sprawled out in his usual spot inside the Botanical Garden. 

For as tough as Leona was, he was unusually soft when tired. He carried this relaxing air around him. That no matter what happens, you’ll be okay with him around. The thought makes you smile as you tilt your head at him.

He was also kinda cute when he laid there like that—

“Quit staring.”

Leona abruptly huffed out. Blinking in surprise, you soon realize that one of his eyes was cracked open. A tiny blush finds its way on your cheeks while he stutters out an apology. The lion’s lips soon form a smug grin.

“You were looking at me pretty attentively, herbivore…” His words are slow and agonizing. Leona’s tail swishes up and down as he leans in closer. Your eyes widen as he comes mere inches away from your face; from your lips.

“…Got something you want to tell me?” You feel your breath hitched at the sudden, feather-light touch of Leona’s hand against yours. Just as you were about to respond—

“Roi du Lions!” 

The romantic atmosphere Leona so carefully built went down the drain, along with his motivation. A groan left his lips.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt.” Trey soon appears behind Rook, an apologetic expression on his face. You shake your head, standing up. 

“You’re good! What’re you two up to?” 

Leona had an annoyed look on his face as you engaged with the other students. He tried to ignore and drown out everyone’s voices. At least he was, till Rook caught his attention.

“During an exploration for new ingredients that we could bring to our club, Roi de Dragons made a magical appearance.“ You raised a brow while Leona’s ear flicked.

Trey let out a small chuckle at Rook’s dramatic storytelling.

“Malleus just asked us to find something for him in the Botanical Garden.” 

Leona’s scowl deepened. That damn lizard.

“Maybe we could help! What’re you looking for?” You offered.

Trey soon fiddled with his pocket, searching for something. Shortly after, he pulls out a piece of paper. “A… toy? It looks like this. Malleus said he last had it here.”

You made an “O” shape with your mouth. “His virtual pet! Gao-Gao!” Trey lets you hold the paper, letting you get a closer look at the drawing that resembled Malleus’s Tamogachi. 

“I know what it looks like, I’ve got no idea where he could’ve left it though…” Soon enough, you, Trey, and Rook are scouring the Botanical Gardens for this little toy. Leona finds this stupid. 

Slightly bitter about his ruined moment, he lays back down to take a nap.

That’s when his ear flinched after hitting something hard. Turning around with a displeased look, Leona’s eyes narrowed.

There, in his favorite sleeping spot was Malleus’s dumb toy —which wasn’t there literally minutes ago might he add. Picking it up, Leona contemplated crushing the small electronic. However, as he held it, the lion was quick to notice a bit of ink getting on his fingers. 

He turned the Tamogachi around. Written on the back with a blue pen was “Kingscholar :)”

Oh, that fucking Draconia did this on purpose.

~

Sitting up from your bed, you rub your eyes. With an annoyed groan, you get up and go to the door— trying not to wake Grim in the process. You could feel the ghost watching with curiosity. Not that you blamed them. Hell, you were curious too!

Who was knocking at 2 in the morning!?

The sun wasn’t even up. Ramshackle probably looked horrid, inside and outside, at this time.

You weren’t looking too great either: bags beneath your eyes, saggy pajamas, slouched posture… Vil would die on the spot if he saw you. Internally, you prayed it was anybody but him. And thank the Sevens that your prayer was answered.

You titled your head in confusion at the one in front of you.

“Malleus?” He smiled back at you. As though his appearance on your doorstep at the crack ass of dawn was the most normal thing ever.

“Greetings.”

You shook your head, still waking up and trying to make sense of the situation. “Do… Do you need something?”

Now he looked confused. Which only heightened your confusion.  The fae furrowed his brows. “Did you not want to talk, child of man?” 

“I like talking with you! Just, preferably not this early in the morning— Look, why are you here? Did you just want to hang out, Tsunotarou?” You tried being as polite as possible, but damn you were tired. 

Malleus looked just as lost as you.

“…Perhaps you’ve forgotten about the letter you sent me?” You look to the side, slightly scrunching your nose as you try to remember what ‘letter’ he was referring to. 

“Uhh— When did I send this letter?” You give him an apologetic smile. It wasn’t too far-fetched; the idea of you giving him an invitation to Ramshackle. 

However, you feel as though you would’ve remembered if you had actually done it. And you would’ve hoped that past you would be smart enough to set your invitation time to anytime BUT 2 AM. 

“I recall receiving this letter yesterday, in the library,” Malleus explained, his hand reaching into his pocket to find said paper. “You slipped it to me when you walked by—“

The fae grabbed his invitation, only for him to be met with sand that trickled down his hand.

“—with Kingscholar…” He fell silent as he stared at the tiny particles in his hand. You seemed to catch on quickly, giving him a sympathetic look as your eyes flickered between the sand and him.

“Tsunotarou, did you see me give you this letter?” 

The way he averted his eyes to the side, his pale cheeks faintly turning pink from embarrassment, already gave you the answer you needed. It’d be cute if not for the circumstances. As expected, Malleus shook his head.

“My apologies… I assumed it was you since I had acquired it right after you had waved at me and it was an invitation to Ramshackle.”

You let out a small chuckle before brushing off the sand that still dirtied his hand. “Don’t sweat it. It’s not your fault that Leona is… well Leona and he does stuff like this.” Offering Malleus a smile, your hand soon intertwined with his. The blush on his cheeks subtly brightened.

“Well, you did come all this way just to hang out. It’d be a shame to turn you away now. Here, come.” You kick the door to open it wider and pull the fae inside Ramshackle. Leading him to the couch, you could gauge that Malleus was amused by your antics. Practically dragging one of the top mages in the world by the arm into your dorm…

“Let me just freshen up first! Wait here— I’ll be right back. Then we could watch some movies or whatever.” You shrugged with a grin before running upstairs to wash up. Malleus gave you a polite and happy wave as you exited.

Once you left, he let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch. His hands balled into fists as he felt more sand pooling in his pockets. A green bolt of lightning struck from the sky.

That measly fucking lion.

~

You let out an aggravated sigh. Did they not think you realized what both of them were doing to each other? Between the Tamagotchi incident and the whole letter debacle a few nights ago, they were being so obvious.

Jeez, you get that they had a rivalry going on and whatnot, but why did they have to involve you? Fed up and rambling, you look to your side at Grim to get his thoughts on the matter. He sat next to you in the kitchen, munching away on a can of tuna.

“They’re getting really annoying! Stealing my henchmen’s time like that…” A chuckle left your lips at Grim’s bitterness, causing you to pet him on the head. 

“Mhm. I just want them to quit it— at least around me. I’m good friends with both and care a lot about them… Also, don’t talk with a mouthful.” You lightheartedly huff, getting up from your seat to grab Grim another can of tuna as he was beginning to finish his first. He usually ate two to three cans before bedtime.

“Why don’t ya just tell 'em?” The cat curiously asked with a tilt of the head, staring at you. You let out a snort. “Yeah, just tell two extremely powerful mages with an intense hatred for one another to stop. Like that’ll work.”

Grim let out an annoyed groan at your sarcasm. You opened a new can of tuna and slid it to him. His frown quickly disappeared as he began to dig in.

“Eh— sounds like Leona and Malleus could use some quality time together.” Grim offhandedly comments, chewing away on his food. 

“What did I say about talking with a mouthful, man?” You roll your eyes before falling silent, pondering his words. Quality time… Leona… Malleus…

“Grim! You’re a genius!”

~

“Herbivore, what the hell.” Leona’s tone was unamused, giving you a deadpan look.

“I thought it’d be nice if we hung out all together! As a group?” 

The two men stared daggers at each other across the small, dusty table in Ramshackle. With a nervous chuckle, your eyes flickered between the two as you slowly passed out cards for some random board game that Idia lent you.

Leona and Malleus didn’t take their eyes off one another. It was at this moment you were starting to think that Grim, in fact, was not a genius.

These two were definitely going to kill each other.

[codenamethebird]

God I have so much to say about Melinoe's characterization, and the fasinating implications about her future arc/the overarching plot of hades 2. I want to make a larger think piece with pictures but for the moment I'm just going to focus on this one specific thread.

In the wake of the Prometheus reveal, she has a slew of convos about his motivations for siding with Chronos, and the gods basically all go: this is his vengeance for us punishing him a tad cruelly. And Nemesis is like, yeah the gods 100% deserve it. But Meli's responds that he must have more motivation than just vengeance, it can't just be that. But when Prometheus explicitly goes, 'I'm doing this because the gods are horrible to humanity and I love humans,' she basically goes, no he must be lying. That motivation is both too pure, but also humans kind of suck why would you care about them?

Mel's humanity hot takes deserve it's own essay (Ms I think Humans should have never gotten fire and are better when they are dead), and I just want to focus on the former for now. She can not comprehend that Prometheus is fighting the gods for noble reasons. It just does not make sense to her. Mel's world is so black and white. She doesn't understand the nuance of the situation, and the thought that the gods might be actually in the wrong doesn't even get close to crossing her mind.

It's a fascinating (and horrifying) result of her upbringing. Of the constant state of war and the very convenient big bad that is Chronos, the evil monster who stole her family. If she accepts that his side isn't completely evil, that they might even be right in some (even many) respects, she would have to grapple with her whole life. Everything she believes would be thrown into question, the literal thing she was training her whole life for.

She can't have Prometheus fighting for a noble cause, because he fights for Chronos whose the Bad Guy tm. But he also can't be fighting for something as simple as vengeance, because that would also mean she would need to really think about what he's angry about. If the punishment was truly so unnecessary cruel.

When talking to Odysseus about Prometheus, when Ody's saying how much he respected him for stealing the fire despite knowing the consequences, Mel says that it was the price to be paid for breaking Olympus's decree. To her, Olympus's rules are sacred and ultimately good. Unquestionably. Prometheus broke the rules with intent, so to her, why would he be so angry at the consequences? Especially if he knew because of his power they were going to happen.

So he must have another reason, some secret machiavellian plan that drives him. Except as I already said, it brings her right back to him doing it for humanity, which she also can't accept. Because that would be admiting that the gods did something wrong to humans. She twists herself into knots to justify her worldview, and it's fascinating! She's so messy I adore her.

Please Supergiant please the final surface boss has to be a human pleeeaaasse (preferably a living one). Or at least have one (or more) show up in some other capacity. Mel needs to come face to face with the other side and have it utterly destroy her worldview.

And/or have (Pan)Dora betray her for Prometheus, that would also be very fun haha.

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale, misogyny and the female character treatment

I don't know if anyone wrote a post about this but I see from time to time comments to this end - that Aziraphale is treated like the female leads in films often are, obviously especially romantic films. So I'm gonna try to point how I see this. I welcome further insights of course.

Say we take a basic premise of a romantic film: A girl is wooed by a bad boy for example. And she is a good girl, from a good, proper family and everything so she refuses his advances. This goes on through his various ploys to entertain and romance her, do things for her etc etc and frustrates us as the audience because we can see the bad boy is actually good, her family is oppressive and holding her back and that she (deep down) cares for him (if only she was brave enough to admit it to herself) and so we want her to open her eyes and say she is actually in love with him cos her life will be so much better should she (finally) give in and run away with him.

Familiar? Reasons Aziraphale is not her and the analogy does not fit (but that I so often see in metas and takes about her):

Aziraphale always knew her family is shit. Or at least longer than Crowley did. She was already anxious in Before the Beginning about what she thought Angel!Crowley could and could not say or do without getting into trouble.

She knows Crowley is good. She never doubted him. Whatever he says or does or pretends to do or must do for his job. Aziraphale knows he's inherently good and would always do good if he can.

She knows she's in love - I mean we can argue about when each realised this and also when each realised the other loves them back just as fiercely, but they both know. And they both love. And they both long to be together. Aziraphale is not ashamed of her feelings nor hiding or suppressing them for fear they are wrong or immoral or other BS like that.

Aziraphale doesn't need to overcome her love for her family/employer and finally make the leap to be with Crowley. They simply can't leave their bosses without punishment. Neither of them. They live in a dictatorship with nowhere to go. And just because Crowley experienced both sides, doesn't give him some huge insight that Aziraphale completely lacks. Both places are awful. Their separation isn’t about fear of societal judgment (or Aziraphale's unwillingness to give up Heaven, being seen as good, being an angel - and to what end, to Fall? I really don't know what takes like this want from her, it would not work anyway), it’s about survival in a system that won’t let them be together.

Aziraphale doesn't want to change Crowley. She never did. She asked for Crowley to come to Heaven as an angel because that was THE ONLY option she had for them to be together in any capacity at that point. It was NOT an attempt to “fix” him—it was a desperate bid for a way they could be together at all.

One thing I don't see as much anymore is the call for Aziraphale to change. Obviously she's pretty but she would be prettier if she lost those century old clothes maybe and started listening to something made after 1950? Be more cool to match Crowley? Less stuffy?

These kind of film premises are already pointless, offensive and make me roll my eyes, but to stick them all over Aziraphale and huff cos she doesn't do what the clever sexy man in dark clothes and sunglasses says she should - well that makes me angry.

And so do takes and mischaracterisations that ignore Aziraphale as silly, her worries as pointless, sometimes excessive - maybe she's just hysterical, you know? The one time she shows more emotion, in F15, she is so often completely ignored in her obvious distress just because Crowley is trying to confess his love at the same time and seemingly 'not getting through,' because Aziraphale is not reacting the way everyone expects. So many takes that always assume Crowley is right, no matter what. Even when he calls Aziraphale an idiot. If Crowley says that, it must be true. No matter that the book spells out in Terry's voice that the angel is extremely clever.

Aziraphale’s charm lies in her kindness, her love for books and knowledge, her whimsy, and her quiet courage. These qualities don’t make her naive—they make her resilient. She often hides how she truly feels, hides her grief, her pain, her true desires, hides what she really thinks; always always to protect herself and her beloved. She is often forced to say stuff she doesn't mean. Again. To keep the one she loves and their fragile relationship safe. But where people seem to catch on with that on Crowley's side, they don't with Aziraphale. She is fierce when pushed and will defend the defenceless (humans) and the ones she loves (Crowley) to her last breath (whether she needs to breathe is irrelevant right now okay).

She loves her bookshop. She built this home, full of knowledge for herself and her demon and you can take this HC from my cold hands. That she was forced to leave it, only emphasises how little choice she had in Final 15. Good Omens has two main, equal characters; who are both gorgeous and complex and deep and neither is right or wrong or in need of saving or learning some huge lesson to get to their goal and be together. What needs to change is the world, the system they live in. And they will change it. P.S. Just to add, many, many (if not all) bad takes on Aziraphale are also bad takes on Crowley. They mischaracterise and misunderstand just how deeply and unconditionally he loves Aziraphale. How he adores her and understands and accepts her just as she is. He does not expect or want Aziraphale to change in any way. He knows why they are not together. And it's not Aziraphale's fault, it's because of circumstances, not because of her choices. Crowley would never ever want Aziraphale to suffer, he wouldn't expect her to come back from Heaven saying how sorry she is for what happened, how stupid and blind she was and how he was always right. That's just not going to happen. ------------------------------------------ @tenok I simply must highlight the awesomeness you put in hashtags!! EVERYBODY please read:

Thank you sm for this!!

[deputyrook]

18+ - Spite/Rook/Lucanis - Playing Cards

This was supposed to be a sweet romantic conversation where they define the throuple and it turned out to be... extremely filthy smut. Uh, sorry. And/or enjoy.

A03 Link. Female Rook. 18+ Spite/Rook and Spite/Rook/Lucanis. DAV spoilers.

---

"It's all right if you fall asleep, you know. Spite and I can... play cards or something," Rook brushes her fingers through Lucanis' hair, combing through it gently. He sighs, a satisfied, happy noise, but the corner of his lip tugs down.

"I do not think he wants to play cards," He murmurs quietly. Rook's hand stills in place. Cracking an eye open, Lucanis peers up at Rook, shifting and pushing himself up on an elbow.

"We haven't really talked about him. Whether he's okay with..." She gestures between them. Rook had taken the outburst of Spite's wings wrapping around them as a sign that Spite was at least fine with what was happening, if not particularly enthusiastic. Maybe she'd been wrong?

"Okay is one way to put it," Lucanis mutters with an annoyed huff. He's not meeting Rook's eyes, instead tracing circles on her inner thigh in a way that makes heat shoot up her spine. He'd just finished fucking her into her chaise- making love to her, really. Her legs will still weak from it, and already she can feel herself starting to ache for more.

Dangerous.

"Lucanis?" She asks tentatively, by way of seeking further explanation.

"He wants you, Rook. Has wanted you. For as long as I have," Lucanis lays back down on her thighs, closing his eyes, "And you know, I'd wanted you for a long time."

"How long?" She asks, teasing, because she has to know.

"Since we got coffee in Treviso," He answers, "Maybe since you entered the Ossurary, to be honest. But Maker, you made this little noise of pleasure when you took your first drink of that cioccolata calda that went right to my cock," Lucanis groans, just from the memory, and presses his fingers against Rook's hips. "I hadn't felt anything like that since well before I was locked up. It tore right through me. I wanted you then," his voice goes soft, "But it didn't take long before I realized that I wanted more than that, too."

Okay, hoo, stop getting distracted, Rook. "And... Spite?"

"He didn't know what it meant, at first. But he caught on quick," he sighs, "I was thinking about you a lot. About all the things I wanted to do to you. With you. Some of it bled over to him, I think."

Rook smiles at him, a careful, soft look. "So... Spite wants me too. Sexually. How do you feel about that?"

Lucanis groans, a different kind of noise from the one that he'd made only a few moments before. "How do I feel? How do you feel?" He pauses for a long moment, and Rook can only assume Spite is saying something in his ear. "Yes, yes. I know you wouldn't hurt her." Another long pause, and Lucanis adds a stern, "Hey."

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't consider having another... person in the relationship," She admits. This is unsteady ground, and she wants to be careful not to offend either Lucanis or Spite. She wants both of them to be alright with their relationship, and doesn't want either of them to feel hurt or left out. "But he does share your body, with no indication that'll change any time soon. There's a good possibility you'll be together for the rest of your life, Lucanis. So in a way, he'll have to be a part of the relationship... in some capacity, anyway."

She takes a moment to think. How does she feel about Spite? About Spite, wanting her? Embarrassingly, she finds the thought leaves her warm. How different would be be from Lucanis? She swallows.

Lucanis sits up fully then, moving to take his place on the chaise beside Rook. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, cupping her face in his hands.

"When you were gone... Spite was devastated. I mean really torn up about it. I hadn't realized how much he liked you too- really liked you, until then," Lucanis seems to take a moment to collect his thoughts, "Ever since he pulled you into the fade to get you to deal with my- our issues, we've felt more like partners. If you're not averse- if the concept doesn't frighten you-"

"You have never frightened me," Rook says, looking him in his eyes, "Either of you."

Lucanis smiles then, relieved, and kisses her gently. When he pulls back, it's seems he's gathered the courage to finish his sentence.

"I don't mind sharing, if it's the three of us," He finishes, a little nervously, "I don't know exactly what it will mean..."

"But we can figure it out. Together." Rook smiles too then, taking his hands in hers and pressing another kiss against his mouth, slow and deep.

The kiss starts slow, but it doesn't stay that way. At first, the press of Lucanis' mouth against hers is languid, as though they have all the time in the world. And then, a shudder seems to run through Lucanis. And he is pushing forward, biting at Rook's lip in a way that makes her gasp in surprise.

Lucanis- no, Spite- seems to want to devour her. He hisses against her mouth, his kisses clumsy and demanding. Rook can barely breathe he's so insistent, licking into her mouth as his hands grab her hips and pull her body closer to him. Spite's eyes flash a brilliant violet, wings in a matching shade unfurling out from behind him.

"Wanted this," Spite groans against her mouth, biting at Rook's bottom lip in a way that makes her weak, "Wanted you."

"I wanted you too," She admits, and he moans, a broken noise of need.

"Smell so good. Like caramels and jasmine and Lucanis," He groans again, and the fact that Spite seems to not only be aroused by her, but by Lucanis as well, makes Rook's skin feel alight with heat.

"Are you going to take me, Spite?" She asks, her voice breathy with need as she wraps her arms around his neck, "Are you going to make me feel good? I want to make you feel good, too."

His lips press back to her skin, this time against the column of her neck. Where Lucanis had kissed with reverence, Spite bites and nips and sucks until Rook is twisting and moaning in his arms.

When Spite leans back slips a hand under the waistband of her panties, Rook realizes that she's still an absolute mess from her earlier round with Lucanis. Rook's cheeks burn as Spite drags two fingers along her slit, slicking them with both her and Lucanis' cum. When he pulls his hand back, he looks at his wet fingers with interest, his pupils blown wide and dark.

Grabbing his wrist, Rook raises the fingers to her mouth and drags her tongue along the digits, licking them clean. She pops his fingers into her mouth, sucking at them and moaning around his hand, keeping her eyes locked on Spite's the whole time. He shudders, taking his other hand and dragging it down the back of Rook's head in a strangely gentle gesture.

When Rook draws the fingers out of her mouth, Spite uses his free hand to yank her underwear down and pull it off of her. He is already so hard- despite her and Lucanis having finished not that long ago, Rook notes- and with a fluid motion, he presses his two fingers back to Rook's cunt. The fingers enter her easily, as wet as she is, and push Lucanis' cum deeper insider of her. With a surprisingly careful motion, he pumps his fingers into her, curling them inside as he'd watched Lucanis do earlier in the evening.

Rook whimpers, a high keening sound, and Spite tilts his head in interest at the noise. This time, when he withdraws his hand, he brings it to his own lips. Keeping eye contact as she had with him, he sticks his own fingers into his mouth, sighing in pleasure around them as he tastes both Lucanis and Rook together.

"More," He groans. Before Rook can even fully register what he's doing, Spite has laid on his stomach and settled himself between her legs, and is licking a long line down the length of her cunt. She nearly squeals, the sensation so hot and her body so oversensitive, and Spite huffs out a laugh in response against her skin.

"Going to want to taste you. Forever," He moans against her cunt, wrapping his arms around her legs to keep them splayed open for him. He buries his face between her thighs, mouthing against her cunt like he really is trying to devour her.

The sensation is almost too much. If not for Spite holding her legs in place to keep her from squirming, she'd be writhing against his mouth. Holding her as he is, his mouth is an onslaught against her, a torrent of pleasure she has no respite from, that has her quickly approaching orgasm.

"Spiteeee," Rook whines, "Fuck me, fuck me, please."

"No," Spite responds, grinning against her skin, "Later. Want this. Taste."

He returns to eating her out, his nose nudging against her clit back and forth, and Rook can't help it. She presses against his face desperately, and when she notices that Spite is grinding his pelvis against the chaise, too horny and turned on just from eating her cunt to stop himself from rutting against it-

She comes with a cry, throwing her head back as the orgasm rockets through her. It shivers through her body, leaving her feeling boneless and satisfied, and Spite watches her come undone with no small amount of pride.

"Now," He says, still grinning as he pulls back, his eyes hungry with need as they rake over her body. "Now?"

"Please," Rook repeats, opening her thighs to him, and beckoning him forward.

Spite's hands fly to his pants, but despite the lack of a belt, he seems to struggle with undoing the fly and button. For just a second, Spite's frustration gives way to amusement, as more assured hands deftly and confidently undo the pants.

"There you go," Lucanis groans, sliding his pants and underwear down his hips. His cock, already red and leaking and so hard, springs out. "You know, I really underestimated how hot it would be to watch him make you come. You are such a mess."

"Fuck, I know," Rook whimpers, reaching out, "Come on, please."

Lucanis chuckles, before violet once again overtakes the colour of his irises. Spite growls, crawling up over Rook, until his cock is flush against her cunt. Unable to stop himself, he slides it against her folds, teasing her by grinding his cock against her cunt without entering her.

"Oh, Maker-" Rook groans, rocking her hips up. His cock is slick with her now, and strands of hair wet with sweat from exertion fall onto his forehead. Finally then, he presses against he entrance, and pushes in, drawing out a long, broken cry from Rook.

"Yes," Spite groans out, "Yes, yes! So good."

Unlike Lucanis had, Spite doesn't wait until she's used to the stretch of his cock to start moving, or take things slow. But at this point, Rook doesn't need him to. What she wants is to be fucked within an inch of her life, and Spite seems to read her mind.

As soon as he's fully inside of her, he pulls out almost all of the way, and then snaps his hips, driving his cock back inside of her. He fucks her deep, his hands on her hips, keeping her in place.

The sounds coming out of Rook's mouth are entirely outside of her control. She doesn't even know entirely what she's saying at this point. She's keening, whimpering out the words, "Yes" and "Spite" and "Pleasepleaseplease." Everything she's worried about, everything that could happen the next day, seems a million miles away. Here, she's able to fall apart completely.

After one particularly loud moan, Spite pulls out, flips her onto her stomach far too easily, and enters her from behind.

Rook presses her face into her pillow, muffling a guttural sound pulled from her lips. From behind, she feels Spite grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head up.

"No. Want to hear you," He grunts, rutting back into her. She gasps, her cunt clenching around his cock, so close to coming again as he fucks her into her chaise. She can tell he's close himself by the stutter of his hips, and the way that words begin to slip from his lips. Snaking a hand to her clit, she grinds forward against her fingers.

"Mine," He breathes, punctuating the word with a thrust. "Mine, mine. Ours."

And with that word- the feeling of her hair, wrenched in Spite's grip, his body leaning over hers, and his cock pressing so deep inside of her- Rook comes for a second time. Spite follows her, spilling into her with a surprised gasp and a long groan.

She collapses onto the chaise, face down, and Spite lays heavy across her back.

"You're heavy," She complains after a long moment. Spite makes a noncommittal noise, and doesn't move.

But then, with a sigh, Spite rolls off of her. It takes Rook a second to realize that Lucanis is back in control, as he reaches out to smooth down her hair where Spite had grabbed.

"That was good?" He asks, a bit tentative. Rook turns and looks at Lucanis, a complete, bleary eyed mess.

"Yeah. But if you ask for a turn now, my legs might give out completely," She answers with a lazy grin. Lucanis grins back at her, eyes shining with affection.

"Just a kiss, then?" He asks, and Maker, Rook could never deny him. Pushing herself up, she kisses him softly, and he sighs against her mouth, contented.

"You think he liked it?" Rook asks, and Lucanis rolls his eyes.

"If he hadn't fallen asleep immediately after finishing, I think he'd be back in between your thighs right now. I'm pretty sure that if you hadn't been more insistent he fuck you, he'd have stayed there until I couldn't speak the next morning." Lucanis rubs circles into Rook's back, and with a soft chuckle, they both settle back onto the chaise. Rook yawns, pressing her head against Lucanis' chest.

"I think I might sleep through the final fight tomorrow. This is too comfortable. Sorry, Minrathous," She mumbles, already feeling her eyelids droop.

Lucanis laughs, and she can feel the rumble of it as she lays on his chest.

"Tomorrow night, we will all be back here again. I will kill a God to ensure it. Multiple, if I must," He whispers, before they drift off to sleep.

[cheshiresense]

" Kisuke's observant as fuck and Ichigo's actually really bad at staying away from this one mad scientist who created him and weaponized him and pointed him at the enemy but also followed right after him [...]. So even a hundred years in the past was never going to prevent Kisuke from gravitating to Ichigo" - I'm sorry, I'm just imagining Kisuke's confusion at the odd Shiba and the mental acrobatics he is doing to understand him. Hiyory just want them to fuck and put her out of her misery

Hiyori is the real MVP, enduring all the bullshit at the Twelfth, especially when Kisuke stops only obsessing over science and starts obsessing over science and the crazy Shiba constantly breaking into their compound and dragging Kisuke out of his labs for a spar or lunch or whatever like it's his right, and Kisuke just lets him. The day her dumbass captain starts skiving off work to stalk the kid is the day Hiyori pulls out the rulebook to check up on the laws for fraternization (thankfully few, subjectively speaking; disturbingly few, objectively speaking) and also the laws on making eyes at a kid from a noble clan (varies depending on the clan, although generally speaking, no officially recorded spouse has ever been from the Rukongai, and they're all the result of one political arrangement or another; the Shiba Clan's the best about it in that their members in the more recent couple hundred years were at least allowed to choose their own match and bring them home for approval, and the clan head and elders were generally agreeable about it so long as there were some benefits involved).

Now Hiyori doesn't know much about her dumbass captain but she's pretty fucking sure he's not only from the Rukongai, but he's also a former assassin and a creepy scientist and has like nothing going for him except a captaincy he doesn't even seem to care about. His social skills are in the dumps, his capacity for honesty and moral integrity is next to nonexistent, he's a workaholic who enjoys dissecting corpses for breakfast and stashing the parts in the freezers next to the ice-cream, his right-hand scientist is a clown with even less morals than him, and he may or may not be holding an unrequited torch for the Shihouin clan head. 0/10 would not marry. Shiba Kaien would have to be mentally deranged to agree to this match.

The thing is though, she's also heard stuff about the newest Shiba, one of them being that Kaien has zero control over him. The guy will do what he wants and damn the consequences, especially when those consequences would probably be things he allegedly doesn't care about like cuts in clan stipend allotment and disownment. Also, Kaien's a soft touch and likes this new cousin a lot and would most likely yield instead of push the point if Shiba Ichigo really insists.

So basically it all comes down to what Shiba Ichigo wants, and Hiyori's pretty damn certain she can take a good guess. She's less certain her dumbass captain can, but she thinks it means something too that for the first time since she met him, Urahara's actually taken interest in something outside of his research.

Beyond that, she doesn't actually care enough to matchmake or whatever. The Shiba kid can get Urahara out of his labs and even into his office to work on his paperwork, if only so he'll have it out of the way when Ichigo swings by, and that's all she cares about. She just wants to make sure this whole thing won't blow up in their faces and possibly get Urahara demoted because she'll be damned if she has to field another new captain, one who might be worse than her dumbass captain, which she would've said was impossible even just two years ago but she has unfortunately met Kurotsuchi now.

Everything is in line with the rules though so that's that. She has no interest in sticking her nose any farther into whatever's going on between those two, even if she does wish they would hurry up and get their shit together because her dumbass captain is kind of gross every time Ichigo is in the vicinity and he gets all sparkly-eyed at him.

[animeyanderelover]

Dear lord above, I at least want to write something today but with the little energy I have I do not want to publish something that was requested and write it with less motivation so just have those quick Hc's.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, blackmailing, threats, violence, disrespect, overprotective behavior, abduction, death

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

Fushiguro Toji Hc's

🪱​Toji for me is very interesting to view because he has been pushed to a point beyond return and he himself has embraced this fact already years ago. He just doesn't care about anything anymore. His wife was his only hope but even that has been taken away from him and with her death any chance for him to ever be a decent man has passed away too. For Toji you are no saving grace. How could you be when what he is feeling for you is so much more twisted than what he was feeling for his dead wife? As irresponsible and neglectful of other lovers and even his own child he is, Toji is actually very perceptive of his own emotions as soon as he realises that there is something brooding within him. His wife made him want to change and be a better person for her. That simply isn't the case with you. When Toji looks at you he only feels that primal desire to keep you to himself and to murder anyone who even attempts to get in his way. With no morals he feels like he has to uphold back and with nothing to lose either he willingly walks into the hurricane of his growing obsession. He wants it that way. Because whether he is going to admit it or not, those feelings make him feel alive.

🪱​Unashamed and direct, Toji is everything but subtle to express that he wants you. From the very first day he is suffocatingly possessive of you and aggressive and rude about it. He easily tracks you down via your odor as his experience of being an assassin really are more than just useful and overall just frightful for you. Honestly, he doesn't plan to woo you. He just wants you to be his and he doesn't expect to care about what you think. Initially that is indeed the case. That is until he discovers that underneath all that possessive greed other feelings for you start budding. Tender feelings which remind him of the emotions he had for his previous wife. He does care after all. Subtle changes happen only then but only when it involves you. He still continues his job of assassinating people as long as it earns him his money and he still doesn't give a shit about people overall. He doesn't have the capacity to do that. The only one spared from the blatant disrespect and rudeness he expresses to his surroundings is you. It's all he finds himself capable of. Better for only you, still the same asshole and ruthless murderer to everyone else. That should be more than enough for him.

🪱​Jealousy is not a word that Toji would use to ever describe himself. It isn't a word that you would use to describe him with either. Overly possessive is a description much more fitting for a man like him and it is indeed his raging possessive emotions for you that reign predominantly whenever he catches sight of someone else with you. However, he is no grown manchild who barges in the moment he spots such a sight as long as the interaction has a practical function like you buying something and asking for advice or taking care of other business. What Toji hates though is idle chatter with no bigger meaning behind it all and that is when he always interrupts the conversations and pushes you away. His enhanced senses give him the advantage of being able to tell when there is a case of someone liking you a bit too much and then everything is over. No matter what you do, the other individual always gets hurt and the best thing you manage to do is have Toji tone down his violent response to the point where no bones are broken and only a few large and throbbing bruises serve as a reminder for the next few weeks. It's no surprise that you never see the face of such people ever again.

🪱​Toji has confessed to you what he is doing to earn his money as he doesn't even bother to paint himself as the good guy. This is just who he is and how he does things and it only leads to you fretting from a very early stage on for everyone. He's made it clear to you that he is not going to ever murder you but everyone else is a free game and it is this fear that Toji uses to keep you on a leash if he senses that you have rebellious thoughts. He has absolutely no problems assassinating whoever is a thorn in his eyes but that doesn't mean that he brags about it in front of you. There seems to be some semblance of decency that he relearns as soon as he starts living with you and this is one of them. It's such a casual routine for him that it might even happen that he brutally taunts someone, swiftly ends their pathetic life afterwards and then brings some takeout back home for you and him. Still, if someone from your surroundings suddenly disappears you always know whose doing it is. He never confirms it verbally to you but sometimes his green eyes give you that look that have you quickly shut up. You've learned to know what it means. 'Careful now or someone else will be next.'

🪱​You're already stuck in a relationship with him long before he has abducted you but at that point you already know that this outcome is inevitable. However, despite all the shit you have grown through at that point already you still manage to be mildly flabbergasted when he one day drags you to the place the two of you will live in together from now on. It's a decently sized apartment and whilst the kitchen has already been littered with cups of instant ramen it is much cleaner than you expected. You find out soon after that this place has actually only been recently purchased by him and that's how you find out that he's basically been living in the houses of other woman or hotel rooms before he met you. He's literally telling you that he's been homeless before he decided to live together with you, realising that you shouldn't have to adapt to his previous lifestyle. He doesn't expect you to act like a housewife and keep the apartment clean though. By all means, you can litter too if you want to as he is used to living shitty. You do abide by some basic expectations you have yourself though as you do not want to live like a racoon in a trash can and Toji lets you do as you want.

🪱​After years of not having looked properly out for his own hygiene Toji actually finds himself caring about such aspects again but only because it is very obvious that it bothers you. He's never really minded that he smells like sweat, blood and fast food but you do, especially whenever he gives you a bear hug. He very much forces physical affection on you as he has only ever promised to draw the line at physically harming you. Honestly, you do realise from an early point on that Toji lives in a different world than you do and that you wouldn't be able to escape and run away from him even if you had the opportunity. There's no way for you to escape someone with senses as enhanced as his and immense physical abilities that easily outperform top athletes. So as strange and frightening as it is, you try to adjust to a life with him even if only to protect family and friends who are very much a green light for him to threaten and end if you do something stupid. You're actually allowed to go outside as soon as he knows that you have learned how things work but you aren't allowed to interact more than necessary and if you just want to go outside to have fun he always accompanies you.

[whoredyceps]

“Another word and I'll make you regret it.”

» you've tried everything to get a coworker to stop asking you out. not even human resources can help you. your only hope is din, who offers to play the role of a less-than-savory ex-boyfriend to get the guy off your back. will the punk tactics work?

» pairing: modern!din djarin x reader

» tags: creepy ass coworker, bouncer!din djarin, nondescript f!reader (brief use of she/her pronouns), threats of violence, vulgar language, no beta - we die like men

» author's note: i've been itching to write a modern!din fic and now that i have some level of creativity capacity back, it's over for y'all. i started writing this in a fever last night and haven't stopped.

"It's horrible. He just— he gives me the creeps!" You frowned as you leaned both your arms on the counter. Across from the kitchen bar, Din was at the stove. He nodded as he listened, his attention on both you and the risotto he was cooking.

"Why don't you go to Human Resources? Isn't that what they're there to help with?" Din glanced at you over his shoulder.

"I did! He hasn't actually done anything legally creepy, so there's only so much that can be done. It's like," you huffed as you got wound up again. "There's no reason the man should be passing my office, but he makes it a point to stop by my desk. Plus, he does this weird hand thing."

You hopped down from the kitchen stool to stand beside Din. He looked away from the risotto, just in time for you to grab his hand and hold it up.

"Pretend you're me," you explained. You proceeded to high five him, then wrap your thumb around the back of his hand. In short, you two were holding hands in the middle of his kitchen.

"So he just holds your hand under the guise of a high five?" Din raised an eyebrow. You nodded quickly, an exasperated expression on your face.

"Exactly! I feel like I'm going crazy, Din. Maybe he's just trying to be friendly in his own friendly way but..." You trailed off and pulled your hand away, your arms crossed over your chest.

"But what?" Din lowered the heat on the stove before he fully turned towards you.

For a man who looked like he had won every fight he had been in, you had only seen a softer side of him. Of course you had seen him angry here and there, but he was always friendly with you.

Two of you lived down the hall from each other. With the layout of the building, it was just the two of you on the floor. Din moved in almost a year ago, and you were thankful to finally have a normal neighbor. Over the time he's lived here, the two of you had become good friends.

"Can I be honest with you?" You leaned your hip against the marble countertop.

"Of course," Din assured you. He gave you his full, undivided attention.

"He scares me. Look, I know I'm not in any danger or have to worry that something will happen, but there's just something about him that makes me feel uneasy. I don't care that he wants to be my friend or wants to be pleasant. All I want is to go to work, do my job, then leave. I don't want to be his friend, or his anything." You didn't quite meet Din's eye as you spoke. It was something you hadn't been able to verbalize to anyone, at least not as well articulated.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Din asked. He was always one to be the voice of reason for you. While it was the logical step, he noticed the way you practically curled in on yourself. That wasn't like you at all.

"What if it's all in my head? Maybe I'm just reading into it, and I don't wanna stir up something just because I'm too in my own thoughts," you explained. "You know, maybe I am just—"

"Don't," Din cut you off. "If he gives you the creeps, that's reason enough."

You sighed and nodded. He was right, as he usually was. You watched him finish with the risotto while you grabbed two plates from the cabinet. The two of you worked in silence as you plated dinner and sat at the dining table.

"What if you told him you had a boyfriend? Doesn't that usually work?" Din broke the silence as he popped open a bottle of wine. You nodded, a small pout on your face as you held you glass to him.

"I had a bad morning and he kept pestering me about what was wrong, so I told him I had a crazy ex-boyfriend who came to my place the night before." You glanced out the window that the table was sat next to. It was small, made only for two people. Din wasn't one for company, so your presence always felt special.

"Was it actually a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. He watched you as you shook your head.

"Not even close. At least not any that live around here. I just had a shit night, but I didn't want to get into it."

You took a bite of the risotto, and your eyes fluttered closed. It tasted perfect. How Din was such a good cook, you weren't so sure. His meals were better than anything you'd had in a restaurant.

There was so much you both did and didn't know about him. He worked as a bouncer at a bar a few blocks down the road, and he slept most days. He had a cat named Grogu, but you just called him the Child. His apartment was clean and tidy while still full of bits and pieces of his life all over.

From what you had gathered, Din had traveled for most of his life and had many trades under his belt. Though he promised early on, when he first moved in, that he was here to stay. He was settled, and he wasn't moving again.

Not that you were complaining.

"Do you need a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. Your eyes popped open, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? I mean, no. I'd rather not deal with two creeps at once." You looked at him like he had grown a second head. So much for your voice of reason.

Din rolled his eyes and shook his head. He put his fork down, his dinner temporarily abandoned.

"No. Let me rephrase that. I'll come in to your job and scare him off," Din explained. "All he needs is the evidence, right?"

You mulled it over in your mind. As you did, you looked at the man in front of you. At first glance, he did have an aura that would best be described as 'rough around the edges'. Hell, he made you a bit nervous at first. Though it didn't take long for him to show that he was a softie behind closed doors. Doors you were lucky enough to find yourself behind.

"You'd do that for me?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips. Your heart squeezed when he gave a slight smile back.

"Of course. Anything for you to feel safe. That's all that matters to me." Din went back to his dinner, fork in hand as he looked down at his plate.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to eat again. There was hope yet that you wouldn't have to run your coworker over.

Before you left Din's apartment, the two of you had come up with a plan. You would ask the guy to go with you to get lunch down the block, and Din would be waiting there for you. He'd look at tough and mean, and just give the guy a good spook.

"What if he keeps being weird?" You asked as the two of you stood in the doorway of his apartment. Din was leaned against the frame, his thick arms crossed over his chest. You wondered if he'd ditch the long sleeve to show his tattoos tomorrow.

"Leave that to me. If he's got two braincells to rub together, he'll leave you alone. The first sign of trouble after and you call me." That wasn't a request, and you were well aware of that.

"You got it. Din?" You held his arm as you kissed his cheek. "Thanks again for helping. I knew I could come to you." As you pulled away, you noticed how red the shells of Din's ears were.

"Anything for you. Be careful heading home." You rolled your eyes as he smirked. He said it every time you walked down the hall to your front door.

"Maybe that joke will be funny one day. Odds aren't in your favor today," you chuckled.

"Eh, I'll take my chances."

You gave his arm one last squeeze before you went back home. That night, you slept easier knowing you'd soon be able to go to work in peace. Worry still sat in the back of your mind, but you trusted Din. He knew was he was doing...

Right?

All the next morning, your stomach was in knots. You almost called Din on your way to work to call the whole thing off, but you knew he had probably just fallen asleep. No way you'd ruin his sleep because you were a chicken.

When you got to work, you asked your coworker if he wanted to grab lunch when it came time. His eager smile made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too in your head about it. Still, you just felt icky all over, no other way to put it.

Dread sat on your shoulders as you worked. With every glance of the clock, time seemed to move slower and slower. Finally, just past noon, you shot up and went to find your coworker. He gathered his things, and the two of you set off.

The walk was awkward enough. You tried to engage in conversation, but his intense gaze on you was too much. He brushed against you at one point, and you wanted to jump out of your skin. Instead, you remained composed as you kept moving forward.

You had chosen a cafe with an outside eating area. One that would make it easier for Din to be menacing without causing a scene in a secluded space. Your coworker opened the small gate to the eating area open for you, and you scooted past him. Without seeming to eager, you glanced around.

All at once, you froze. While you were relieved to see Din sat at a table, you still had to play the part. He was in a corner, leaned against the gate with his feet propped up on the wooden table. As soon as his eyes landed on you, he kicked himself off and stood.

For the first time since you met him, Din looked terrifying. He was his usual tall, hulking self but his demeanor was totally different. He wore a sleeveless tank and thick black jeans. You took in the sight—

Did he have snake bites? Did this man re-pierce his lip just for you?

Fuck, talk about dedication.

You were frozen. While it could be read as fear, it was definitely something that twisted your stomach.

"Oh my god, Din? What are you doing here?" Your voice wobbled as you slowly approached him. Din moved with such ease for a man who looked like he could lift a car with his bare hands.

"Who the fuck is that?" Din ignored your question, his finger pointed straight at the guy behind you. His voice was an octave lower than usual.

"He's a guy I work with," you sputtered out. "We're just—"

"Why the fuck are you with my girlfriend?" Din poked his chest and moved closer. Close enough that he almost barreled into you. Before you could catch yourself, he caught you with his free arm. His large hand was splayed across your back as his fingers dug into your side.

"She's not your girlfriend. Are you that shitty ex that gave her a hard time?" The guy asked, appalled at Din's mere presence. You glanced back at him to see a bead of sweat on his forehead. Good, it was working.

"Oh, I gave her something hard last night," Din smirked. As much as you hated to admit it, the vile words out of his mouth made your cheeks grow warm.

"Din," you warned in a low voice. "It was a one time thing. We aren't together." It was easy to fall into the role of the damsel, scared of what her ex-boyfriend was capable of.

"You heard her," your coworker snapped. "Get away from her, and let her go."

Din barked out a laugh, his hand gripped your side tighter. You knew you should feel scared, but truth be told, your brains and insides had turned to mush. He was hot all on his own, but right now? You'd drag him to the bathroom right now if there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"Come get her yourself, you little piss ant. Wait, is your name Alex?"

Your coworker nodded and took a step back. Everything you had been through felt worth it in that moment, just to see the look on his face. If it wasn't inappropriate, you'd snap a picture to keep it forever.

Din released you, only for him to move you behind him. He stepped closer to Alex until they were practically flush against each other. He was a full head and a half taller than your coworker.

"So you're the one who's been following her around like a fucking freak? What, you think following her around like a sad little puppy is gonna get you in her pants?" His tone was almost humored, he was so astounded.

"Babe," you started, your hand stretched out to grab Din's toned bicep. He didn't hold back as he continued.

"Leave her the fuck alone. Speak another word to her and you'll regret it. If I find out you've been anywhere near her," Din grabbed his shirt and dragged him so close that their noses brushed against one another. "I will break your fucking legs."

"I-" Alex stuttered. He was frozen in his spot, his eyes searching for anything but the face in front of him. You watched as his feet struggled to stay planted on the floor.

"Yeah, that's what I though. Get the fuck out of here, and leave my girlfriend alone if you want both your kneecaps." Din shoved him back, hard enough for Alex to stumble as he was let go.

Without so much as a glance his way to see if he was watching, Din turned and grabbed for your waist. In one swift motion, you were flush against him and his lips were on yours. It was unexpected, but it sealed the deal. You almost heard Alex scuttle away, if you weren't so wrapped up in the kiss.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when you pulled away. Much to your disappointment, you did have to stop at some point. Din's hands still held your face, your bodies pressed together.

"Seemed convincing enough?" Din had a slight smirk once he was sure there was no sign of Alex. He noticed the dazed look in your eyes, the way you watched his lips move.

"If not, he's truly a lost cause," you sighed. Despite his appearance, he was back to your Din. In the blink of an eye, he went from an ex-convict with a taste for blood to the guy you made baklava with last week.

"He was a lost cause from the start," Din finally let your face go. "You okay?" He stayed near you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Fuck, that kiss really put you through the ringer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thankful I don't have to spend my lunchbreak with that guy," you sighed. Din perked up a bit and slipped his arm around your shoulders.

"Think you can stomach the time with me?" Din asked. You chuckled and leaned into his side.

"You know, my schedule did just clear up," you teased. Every casual touch, every part of you pressed against the man lit your sense on fire. How were you going to be normal now? Now that you knew what he tasted like, how his lips felt against yours?

"Atta girl." Din slipped his hand down to the small of your back and guided you into the cafe.

Needless to say, Alex hadn't looked at you since. If he crossed your path, he went in the opposite direction. You were able to work in peace, no dread from the minute you walked in to the moment you left.

All thanks to Din.

[1d1195]

Protection Extra IV

Read Protection here | ~1.8k words

From me: I really got to thinking about this idea from 🎶-ask. It is short, but hopefully it's enough. I've missed them loads. This is back within the first year of their official dating. I mentioned I would be jumping time frames a bit with these extras, so here it is.

Warnings: a little angsty. But fluffy overtones. Harry's just a protective guy. Also, the tiniest bit of smut but you have to squint and read between the lines. Mostly heavy making out and a little bit of touching.

Summary: Harry might not work for DSS anymore in the same way he used to. He doesn't guard her life because it's his job. He guards it because it's his life; her entire being is his and he would lose his mind (worse) if something happened to her.

She does not care to the same capacity as him. (But she does feel bad about it at least.)

“You said I could,” he frowned. The little scrunch between his eyebrows appeared when he concentrated. She loved it endlessly. Even if what he was asking was ridiculous. So as much as she loved that little furrow between his eyebrows, she was not going to cave. Instead, she smoothed her fingers on the bunch of skin and cupped his cheek with her hand. He turned into her hand and kissed her palm.

“Like as a joke, Harry,” she rolled her eyes she dropped her hand and returned to her previous position. She couldn’t see his face. But it didn’t matter. She already knew what faces he made any time she annoyed him anyway.

It was insane they were even having this conversation. Harry broached it so casually too. They were snuggled on the sofa, her body resting in his embrace. His knees bent around either side of her body and she laid across his torso. She fit so warmly against him it was hard to believe he was even asking her such a thing because the idea she would ever leave the circle of his arms was ridiculous.

“Okay,” he sighed. It was obvious he was frustrated by the decision. Her head was close enough to his mouth that he could kiss the top of her hair, so he did. He ran one hand up and down her arm sitting in the quiet while he held her safely in his arms. It was his favorite part of the day, holding her close to him where he knew nothing bad was going to happen. He wouldn’t let it.

Obviously, she took his silence as plotting to convince her. Which he could never. He knew that. He knew he would have an easier time convincing a fish to walk than telling her what to do. “I literally have my phone on me all the time and now you know about my shoe trick.”

He sighed. “But y’didn't have y'phone,” he reminded her. “No shoes either.”

There was that; she would allow him that much. “Well, there's no more threat, so I don't need—”

"Kitten," he sighed rubbing a hand over his face. He was exasperated. “I don’t want t’talk ‘bout this anymore,” he mumbled.

She frowned feeling bad she upset him. But he was thinking way too far over the top. “No one is even going to remember me anymore,” she whispered quietly. “He’s in jail for a really long time,” she reminded him. He didn’t answer her. “Harry,” she whispered. “Talk to me.”

“I already said I don’t want t’talk ‘bout it anymore.”

Her frown deepened and she sighed; feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world because she wouldn’t put a tracking device in her arm. “I have the scrunchie, too; for when you’re away,” she reminded him. He nodded, still silent. “Harry,” she sat up on her knees, so she could look at him. He was so pretty, all soft skin and angular. He was so handsome it made her swoon on a regular basis, and he was all hers. But she had to stand her ground.

His eyes looked sad, tired. Too sad. “M’not trying t’be controlling.”

“Of course not, Harry. I know—”

“Honey,” he interrupted.

Her heart skipped a beat because for whatever reason, when he called her honey, it made her lose all rational thought. It seemed like the conversation was far more serious than when he called her kitten, love, or even Miss Wildflower. She felt like she was nothing more than a container of the very sweet goop he called her. “I talked ‘bout this with m’therapist and we... I know m’being... crazy,” he frowned. He cupped the side of her face as he spoke so softly. Like all of this was a secret. “But... I was insanely lucky,” he reminded her. “Y’were brilliant,” he complimented. “I told you ‘bout a fail safe in passing and y’had been planning all along. I was completely blindsided by y’departure. Every step you had planned was perfect. But if y’didn’t have an AirTag, I wouldn’t have found you,” he admitted. She didn’t speak because his compliment was too nice. She didn’t think about it all that much. Mainly because she didn’t like thinking about betraying Harry the way she did. It was nearly a year ago and he was still worried. It probably killed him to admit that out loud. Because it was his job at the time, and he wouldn’t have been able to find her. But it wasn’t just his job. He loved her so completely.

If something happened to her, she really believed Harry wouldn’t survive the guilt. He barely forgave himself for her injured leg and she wasn’t convinced he fully forgave himself for that either.

She turned toward his palm in the same way he had and kissed his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “You don’t need t’apologize, kitten. Y’didn’t do anything wrong.”

She took a deep breath. She had her own therapist and they had also discussed a lot about her hyper-independence. Even with someone like Harry to rely on because she could, and he wouldn’t ever judge her. “I’m not...” she swallowed. “I had people follow me around for years, Harry,” she reminded him.

“I know—”

She pressed a finger to his lips gently. “I couldn’t do what I wanted ninety percent of my life, Harry,” she reminded him. “Do you know what it’s like to want to go to the mall to get new jeans because yours ripped and someone tells you that you can’t? Or that you want to go to a new frozen yogurt place with friends, but you’re not allowed to? If I forgot a vegetable for dinner, I couldn’t run to the store and back without it being a production,” he didn’t know what any of that felt like; not really. He only knew it from the end of production. The part of it all she didn’t like. So, he stayed quiet. “If you texted me every five minutes for the rest of our lives, asking where I was, I would tell you every. Single. Time,” she assured him locking her gaze with his. He felt it in his stomach, the way she looked at him. She meant every word she spoke. “If you put a tracking device in me it’ll... it’ll just feel like the rest of my life. Unable to make decisions on my own. Unable to live freely,” she told him. “You have my location through my phone. I am more than willing to have that scrunchie on my wrist and in my hair when you’re not within a couple hours of me,” she promised thinking about the weekend he spent with his mom. She wondered how long he stared at the little blipping dot that told him she was safe and in her house for most of the time he was gone. “Those AirTags saved my life because you told me I needed a failsafe, Harry. You saved me.”

His gaze dropped from hers and they were quiet. Harry didn’t like the compliment. He felt like he didn’t do a good job because she nearly drowned and had a scar on her thigh that made him want to smack his head on the wall for letting those things happen to her. Silently, she settled back into his arms, her ear resting so she had the perfect sound of his heart thudding against her.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He smiled, kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too,” his head dropped back against the arm of the sofa and he squeezed her. He thought of all those days she studied on the ground and how they were always this close to snuggling this way. “M’sorry m’so nervous,” he mumbled. “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself,” he pressed his nose just behind her ear, like he was tracing the outline of her hair behind it.

“I think if I had a tracking device, you wouldn’t enjoy your life. Wouldn’t take your eyes off it.”

He thought of visiting his mother back in March and how the anxiety built and fell over and over as he looked at the little blip telling him where her scrunchie was. She was right. He would have it on every screen he owned if he knew her exact location. “You’re right.”

“Oh, that had to have hurt,” she giggled and kissed his throat.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a genius, kitten. M’happy t’say you’re right.” It was embarrassing how those words turned her on. A shiver rippled through her. No one loved her as much as Harry. No one trusted her instinct, her intelligence, or judgement as much as he did. But it was more than that. Because Harry knew people didn’t believe her for years. People misjudged her abilities because of her father and circumstance. They didn’t believe in her. So it was like he had complimented how pretty she looked (which she did) when he said she was right. It wasn’t an ego thing. “Did y’like that, honey?” He hummed his lips nipping at her earlobe as he spoke.

Harry knew exactly how much she liked that.

“Off,” she ordered shoving his shirt up his torso. It didn’t matter than she had seen him without a shirt hundreds of times since the day they warmed up in his car after the icy dip in the water when he saved her life a second time in one week. She liked to feel the hard ripples of his stomach and he had promised she could look as much as she wanted once she was warm.

Well now she was warm. “Yes, ma’am,” he pulled it off the rest of the way and pulled her in to kiss her as deeply as he could before he pushed her back to the opposite end of the couch and settled between her legs. “Say it,” he whispered, not quite begging. But he wanted to hear it. Because it made him feel better. It made him worry less about all the thoughts they had discussed in the last hour. He carefully shifted her leg as if he was worried it was the very same day she nearly bled out. He slipped his hand between their bodies feeling her through her leggings.

She moaned softly while he kissed the length of her throat and brushed his lips against the swell of her chest as she tried to maintain enough air to speak before she was lost in Harry and all his perfection.

She had no problem saying it. Because it was true. Truer than most anything she believed in her life. Harry was hers and he was going to protect her in any way he could even if she wasn't willing to put a tracking device in her body. “I’m all yours,” she promised breathlessly.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

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@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

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@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777

Protection taglist: @youcouldstartacult @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @luxiorchive @ameerakane20 @be-with-me-so-happily

@cherryshouse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @cherrystyle @kaiohnsa @snwells

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[peachetteprice]

Driving Habits | TF141

Disclaimer: Some of these are UK specific, including the style of car, manoeuvres, terminology, and gearbox. That's what happens when the boys live and work mostly in England! Also, I am almost taking my practical test in September, and I need to rant about certain habits. Sorry in advance to Soap and Ghost. Love you both, boys.

Credit to @soaps-mohawk for giving me the inspiration to explore this headcanon! It began with an exploration into what cars TF141 might drive! You can see the original post that inspired this here.

+ Including interactions when driving with an S/O!

Notorious one-handed driver. The other hand is either on the gearstick - just resting, contemplating - or mediating between the gearstick and your thigh. He loves a good reverse bay park. (He's an absolute beast at it, too. No need for minor adjustments. He just... knows the space. And he will make fun of you when you can't park as perfectly as him). Helps to get the shopping in better, because at least you can get to the boot! Has been known to swerve a little bit for birds in the road, but that's because he's an avid watcher, and the poor things get enough grief as it is - he wants to still be able to watch Robins and Thrushes in the trees on the weekend!

Captain John Price:

He does, however, neglect rabbits, foxes, badgers, squirrels, and rats. And the... occasional deer in Scotland? Not out of malice - not at all - but they're not worth swerving over and potentially causing a collision for. He might, only if you're with him - because you'll squeal if he doesn't and positively become harrowed by its body popping beneath the rear tyre - but it's much safer for a driver to simply ram it into the gravel than to mess around with the safety of himself, other drivers, and - of course - you.

Takes extra care around vehicles with stickers that denote that the occupants of said vehicle - bar the driver or secondary passengers - are animals or children. He will be extra sure to check his mirrors, touch on the brakes if need be, and will actively scan for dangerous drivers that he can shield the car from. His duty is to protect, after all, in whatever capacity.

That being said, in his youth, he was known to drive... a little faster than required. Only on country lanes does he still retain some of his more... reckless habits. He may go a touch too fast around corners, and ignore the chevrons that indicate the severity of a turn (one arrow, two, three), and if the road opens up to a sprawling range, whereby speed control for tight corners and blind junctions is not an issue, he will... perhaps... occasionally - only rarely if you're in the car with him - let her rip.

Begrudgingly drives your shuddering little Fiat 500 or itty bitty Hyundai i20 (hey, what do you mean, tiny, it's perfect for the city, John! Pay no mind if your boys giggle and point when you turn up at the base in it...), though much prefers the Triumph Spitfire, 1979, mint-condition, that he bought in 2008 for three grand and fixed up over a ten-year period (when he wasn't deployed, that was) which is now worth £18,000. That is his profit! But he won't let another soul touch it, drive it, or so much as look at it - unless it's you, on a good day - until the day he dies. It's in stunning condition, but God help you if you reverse into the driveway without him watching like a hawk, wiggling his hand as if it were the paddle of an aeroplane conductor, telling you to move closer to the wall and risk scratching your car just to protect his darling baby. It... oh no... it might be the only thing he loves more than you...

But those roads are his home, that's all!

Always, always, always over-revs the engine to get out of a junction. He can't help it! He's used to manoeuvring through rough terrain with a car the size of a military tank - he's bound to forget to treat a normal car with a normal amount of strength. He comes flying into and out of roundabouts for that exact reason! He has to get on and off them quickly enough - don't you know, they're deathtraps, they are!

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He's also prone to checking his side mirrors and rear view mirror an inordinate amount of times for a twenty-minute pop to the shop. He is convinced that the Kia Sportage behind him is right up his tail - he's sure it's stalking you in the passenger seat, especially with your bumper stickers on the rear, the nasty perverts - no matter how many times you explain to him that the mirrors are convex! They will make everything seem closer than they truly are! Now, however, he does not and will not ever brake-check a car, but he will sure as hell give them the dirtiest stare if they decide to overtake him... or until they back off a few more feet behind you.

The poor man gets impatient at lights. He does. And crossings, too. Train, tram, pedestrian, any and all of them. Despises them all. He'd rather a set of traffic lights for people to cross at, than have those silly zebra, pelican or toucan markings along the road that he has to pray Grandma Doris won't divert her walking cane in its bilateral direction. Oh, and he bounces his leg like there's no tomorrow. Again, he can't help it! He isn't used to waiting in cars. He's used to tumbling down roads in Middle Eastern deserts as the crow flies. None of those silly turns and re-routes into estates because he took the wrong turn at a junction. He wouldn't have messed up had he had time to think! Had there been no traffic! And, oh, Christ, the traffic. Simon does not like traffic. He does illegal U-turns as soon as he sniffs there being a road closure - that's how much he dislikes waiting!

You'll never forget the day that he wrenched the handbrake up way too high, and you had to get your father to re-tighten it. You're sure there aren't any more notches he can lift it to. You're rarely ever on a hill that warrants it. He'll crank it up six times just to stop at the traffic light before the Tesco. It's bloody Tesco! It's not Mount Kilimanjaro!

Never gets the bite point consistently. Never gets the damn bite point. Always too low or too high. He doesn't over-rev it like Ghost does, but the amount of times he stalls the bloody car, thinking he's in another one of those tank-sized vehicles that has a brand-spanking new bite point - or dare he say, an automatic gearbox that doesn't even require a clutch - is incalculable. You'd think the man has only just learnt to drive!

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Notoriously speeds through built-up areas. Often commits to doing 45mph in a 30mph zone. Only when there isn't anyone around, like at nighttime! He consistently zooms past speed cameras in his BMW. His poor 3L engine is just too powerful for those dinky little roads. And, promise, he doesn't do it on purpose! He just routinely forgets to glance at his speedometer (and his mirrors, but that's another issue), and he drives for himself and himself only. In fact, he often hums to himself and forgets you're even there, beside him, clutching onto the internal handle on the roof in case he veers too suddenly to either side. His object permanence doesn't prevail unless he has one hand on your inner thigh, and if he doesn't, well, you can kiss safe driving habits goodbye.

(Oh, and he always sits on the brake. And bite + gas. The handbrake is too cumbersome, and his feet are strong enough, Goddamnit!)

Alright, that isn't to say he's an... unsafe driver. He's only slightly inconsiderate. He brakes too harshly, too late, too suddenly, he coasts on the clutch around corners, he never feeds the steering wheel, and he sometimes forgets to check his mirrors before turning into a junction (but he's never T-boned a cyclist... yet... you can give him a tick for that one). But he hums and whistles a nice tune to himself - he prefers it to the radio, and that's not to say he prefers quiet so he can hear the sound of the engine, no, no... never... not at all - and he always makes an overt point to note every field of cows, sheep (especially horses!) as well as every cat he sees lurking along the pavements. Never dogs. Doesn't like the bastards. Got bit once. That was enough to turn him right off.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Beautiful driver. Test-accurate. He could re-take it today and pass with flying colours. What a brilliant driver. The only bad habit he's picked up is driving with one hand (he tends to bite his fingernails on the other when he drives - helps with the stress of commuting in London), and never feeding the steering wheel through his hands. He does the wipe-on, wipe-off manouvre, mostly because he looks hot when doing it, though he tries not to. Mama Garrick always swats his hand whenever he does it because that's how drivers get into accidents, baby!

Car-shares with his mother, whether it's in her duck-egg blue Kia Picanto or his lime green Ford Fiesta - it has failed its MOT three bloody times, and he's revived that girl from death's vice grip more times than he can count, it has the mileage of a postal worker in the 1700s, nearing 200k - but this gentleman always remembers to bring the seat forward and upright after he's finished using it, so that her feet can touch the pedals, and to, naturally, reduce her back pain. He does the same with the headrest, too, because if there's anything he cares about more than his job, it's the safety of his family and friends!

Tends to drive on the cautious side. The only minor fault he'd get in a test would be hesitance because he simply doesn't trust any other driver but himself. His mother drilled that into him. She said that there's nothing worse than watching a car flash its headlights and signal you to go, with caution, as always, because the flash is not universal for 'go', only to pull in front of you and trigger you to emergency brake. Or, God-forbid, a pedestrian puts their hand up at you before they've even crossed the bloody road, and he has to slam on the brakes like he's Speedy Gonzalez at a traffic light. Lordy Lord.

Never mind the fact that he waits too long at pedestrian crossings because there could be somebody shrouded by that tree on the corner there. Do you see it? Over there! No, behind the sign, love! There could be someone - oh, whatever. He has to wait to make sure it's clear - otherwise, Grandma Doris is getting bumped in the legs and thrown fifty feet along the road! And he cares about the elderly!

Always nervously bites the insides of his cheek at roundabouts. Which is the most bewildering part of all, because he's so good at them! He always signals onto the roundabout. Never cuts lanes. Always follows directions perfectly, and if he doesn't, well, I guess you're taking a different route until you can turn around in a safe place. He always signals off the roundabout, too - even at mini-roundabouts - but he'll scrunch his face up every time, huff, and mutter:

"Yeah... botched that one."

...Regardless of how many times you tell him that he's a gorgeous driver! It's sexy, too, how he abides by the Highway code and gives way to more cars than he really should - no, except he really should stop doing that, actually, they're starting to take advantage of his kindness and he doesn't realise it - and how he's so... so... so fucking smooth with gear transitions. Going from stationary to a comfortable 20mph? He'll pop that sucker so fluidly into third (or second, if it's his mum's car) with such prowess that you barely notice the engine take the gas he's giving it. There's no jolt between first and second. He plays those gears like he's bowing a violin. How delicate his fingers are. How gentle his touch. It's mesmerising to watch.

And, you're about ready to give him your hand in marriage when you notice that every time he comes to a stop - on a hill, at a traffic light, in crawl traffic, waiting to turn into a junction, he puts the handbrake on, then takes his foot off the foot brake, then knocks the gearstick into neutral, then takes his foot off the clutch, and waits patiently like the darling man he is. Unlike someone else, he never sits on the brake...

Gaz even brakes in ample time, and you thought he couldn't be more perfect! That's what really gets you going - he gives the car behind him just the right amount of time to slow down that it's almost a waltz, and he's the conductor of traffic. Though... maybe don't let him get trapped at a stalemate on a mini-roundabout where all cars are turning left and are subsequently blocked by the need to give way to the right... his poor brain will short-circuit! If he does, give him a pat on the thigh and let him wait for someone else to make the first move - he hates decision-making when he's off-duty.

Bonus Round - Road Rage!

Captain John Price:

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Road Rage? You mean, showing a healthy amount of anger and vigour towards a bloody idiot driver? You mean... baring his teeth and swatting a hand at them, occasionally honking the horn past eleven-thirty, even if people are sleeping, or pulling out one of his anger-insurance cigars? That's what road rage is? Well... Christ, he must be terrible for it. Don't tell his boys that... they think he's the most level-headed man on base.

He's slightly oblivious to the technique of cars around him. He drives like he's the only driver in the world, because usually he is - except for those fuckers behind you who won't back off - but if something does happen, and if it isn't too much of an issue, he'll grunt, clench his teeth, grip the steering wheel and let out a muttered 'bastard'. If, however, something really irritates him - especially if another car puts you in danger - he'll honk the horn and flail his hand at the windscreen in the hopes that the driver sees his frustration (even if you're the one driving, he'll reach over and honk the pad for you, even though you've told him not to!)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Well... he certainly knows a lot of Gaelic, doesn't he, your boy? You've hardly a monkey's bottom of what he's saying, but the vitriol in which he says it - he's not known for bottling his anger very well - makes it clear to you that he needs a hug and de-tox before bedtime. If the accused does anything on the defensive or antagonistic, he has been known to pull up beside them on a two-lanes-go-straight-on road marking, even if it isn't the right way to your destination, just to glare at them and give them the... stern finger. Maybe... maybe a word or two about precious cargo.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Gaz is a simple guy when he's off-duty. He will sigh, tut, shake his head, and mumble 'nutter', or a very hushed 'oh, you absolute...' (bonus: he never finishes his sentence!) It's what his mum does! If another car puts you in danger, he may groan and roll his eyes - but he always asks if you're okay as soon as, and apologises for the sudden violence of his attitude! What a sweet man.

| Masterlist |

[varpusvaras]

Fox's position as the scapegoat in fandom is very interesting and something I honestly think the writers kind of made him to be.

The part of the fandom (which is...really large) that doesn't like him always blames him for Order 66, in saying that "if he hadn't killed Fives, then Order 66 wouldn't have happened". Interestingly, they never blame Anakin, who had even more direct power to stop it. Fox had no idea that anything was going on, and did what he had been taught to do from the moment he was created: Followed orders. He didn't shoot Fives because he necessarily wanted to; meaning there were no personal feelings attached to what happened. Anakin, on the other hand, went and voluntarily murdered a lot of people for only personal feelings. But somehow that is not Anakin's fault.

(I've posted about it before, but the same people who blame Fox are always happy to boast about Anakin murdering him. Always happy to bring out Anakin's trauma as a slave, and then be happy about him murdering another slave, someone directly under his power, who had never known anything else than being a slave in his entire life, and who had been indoctrinated from birth to believe that being slave was all that he was, and that he should be proud of it)

Some fics from people who do like Fox also put him in the position of the scapegoat, where they have all the other clones blaming him for everything that had happened, and ostracise him. In some fics I've seen, they continue this even after the war has ended, even in scenarios where Palpatine didn't win, and this feels like the clones, who have been made to believe in the system, cannot make themselves blame said system. No, it's easier to blame one of their own instead, no matter how little power Fox ever had in his entire life.

The writer's also do this, by having Fox mess something up (in the writer's eyes at the very least) almost every single time he is on screen. I think the only time he wasn't positioned to be in the wrong in some capacity was on his first appearance in the movie, where he did a front flip down some stairs and shot at the bad guy of the movie. Almost every single other time he is doing something wrong or messing something up, causing something negative to happen, be it the bombing on Coruscant (not actually his fault, but the fault of the people who wanted to do it and prevent the peace talks from happening; still, Fox is put in the middle of it), or what happened with Ahsoka (from Fox's point of view, there was a dangerous person on the run, who had just killed multiple people in a violent way, and was continuing their rampage, killing his brothers as well). Objectively speaking, Fox is completely in the right with everything he does here, but the writer's still seem to position him to being wrong, because he is against Ahsoka, and Ahsoka is the character the viewer is supposed to be rooting for (no matter how much worse she actively makes her own situation during the arc).

No one ever remembers all the good qualities he had: he was hard-working, capable, brave, and cared for his brothers. No, instead, the fandom is endlessly debating over giving him, a slave who never knew anything else, some shred of dignity, while freely giving the absolution to the fascist who is standing over his still warm corpse.

[alastors-antlers]

Why Alastor is good aroace rep after all, written by an aroace

Hello all! I just want to start off this post by saying that I'm one person who definitely doesn't speak for all aroaces, but I wanted to make a post on this anyway, and maybe some folk would be interested in hearing out another perspective?

I'm not really caught up on everything that's been said over the course of HH's creation - only more recent interviews, since I'm pretty new to the fandom. Apologies if I've missed anything, but also I do not have the time to keep up with all the out-of-canon-material backstory unfortunately. I'm working with what we've got here.

So here's the thing:

Alastor is cruel, he's narcissistic, he doesn't care about anyone except himself, he's a serial killer and a monster.

(That's the argument I've heard - please tell me if that's not really what people are going for lol, in which case I've totally misunderstood?)

The issue with aroace rep when it paints asexual people with those traits is that it aims to dehumanizes them. Sex and love are essential to the human experience, right? So why wouldn't someone be interested? Because they're self-absorbed, and cold, and detached. They don't have the capacity to love others enough to feel romance.

And sure, Alastor is a killer, and a schemer, and prideful, and a monster by hell's standards. But no matter how above it all and stylish and in control and provocative he wants to be, he's a very human character, and his aroace-ness never serves to add to his alienation. You could even say that it makes him seem even more personable.

That's what I think is the key difference.

why he's human

Alastor's whole persona is about control, and he basically straight-up says this. He's controlling what his enemies know, what his public image is like. His goal is to be the Radio Demon -- overlord of Hell, charismatic, Machiavellian, and undefeatable. He's not. Despite that smile plastered over his face (a powerful tool, huh) he's so expressive for someone who's constantly pretending.

You see his exasperation with the Egg Bois and with Charlie's ranting; his nervousness in front of Zestial; his frustration with Lucifer and the petty lengths he goes to to piss off the ruler of Hell.

You see his desperation, making that deal with Charlie. He's surprised by the idea of being vulnerable in front of an enemy like Adam, and so close to danger. He drops the radio filter and the affect out of fear, and runs on broadcast TV to let out panic and anger and bitterness in his hideout, where no one else can see him.

He has a smile that tells us he's genuinely happy to see someone; it's a little wider than his default. You see it with Mimzy's greeting, you see it with Rosie. Rosie, especially, serves to make Alastor more human to the audience. More on this later, but for now, I'm just saying that you can see that he at least seems to respect her greatly. Whatever bond they have, we know that he trusts her to touch him, to share history with him, and with support that he trusts no one else for.

He pretends, but he can't pretend it all away. Loads of these emotions aren't even advantageous for him to show. It isn't necessarily how the typical asexual psychopath acts; he's not emotionless or only capable of anger or brutality.

He's so full of emotion that it leaks through, despite all that he does to avoid it. He's not inhuman and aloof, not really - he's so, so human, even when he tries not to be because he thinks that'll be what keeps him above all the rest. In control, and free from his chains.

(If anyone wants to see images about all this, I'll make a separate post - just let me know.)

(I also have another post, talking about why Alastor is at least a little attached to the hotel's residents too, shown via conversation with Niffty. In what way? different question.)

how the aroace part contributes to that

Now, to be fair, we don't hear much about his aroaceness in canon. It's just not relevant a lot of the time.

In the pilot, Angel's proposition ruffles his feathers so much that Alastor blanks for a moment. It's a joke, sure, but that ace panic face is a pretty popular Alastor moment in the fandom - Alastor, thrown off-balance by a sex joke of all things, after so many years in Hell that he should probably be used to this.

It's a moment that makes him more approachable; his aroaceness shows him unprepared for something someone else does for one of the only real moments in the whole episode.

And the other part: the ace in the hole statement.

Rosie apparently knows Alastor so well that she read that he's aroace. That tells us about their relationship; namely, that it is long-standing and genuine enough that she gleaned a piece of real information from him. It's a casual fact that she knows about him before he even figured it out himself. It lends legitimacy to their bond - this bond that shows us a more comfortable and warm side of Alastor that we don't often see.

If their relationship is purely business, isn't this something pretty frivolous and personal? It's not like he has anything to gain by telling her about his life, but she learned about it somehow. How close are they? That's where it adds a layer of complexity and personality to his character..

thoughts on representation

Overall, Alastor's an interesting character who has a level of depth and care and personality (outside of cruelty) that asexual psychopath tropes lack. Again, the moments where he's being represented as disinterested in sex or romance don't make him seem detached. Again, they don't say "look how hostile toward relationships his behaviour is - how separate he is from our humanity". That's what bad villain ace rep is. That's not what the show's doing.

Also: I'm not saying that we need to lower our standards or anything, but even if you think it's not the best rep, I feel like we should be supporting HH's efforts here. I know that on Tumblr we have a pretty queer-friendly space going, which is honestly an understatement lol but

Aces are incredibly underrepresented in fiction. There's a whole Wikipedia page about asexual characters in media, and it's short as all hell, and even if you consider what's on there you see quite a number of one-off characters who are never mentioned again.

In terms of real life business - before the DSM updated their definition of hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSDD) in 2013, identifying as asexual wasn't even a recognized thing. If you talked to a clinician about your lack of sexual desire, you could be diagnosed with a disorder. Only in the 5th edition do we now have a little exclusion footnote about it.

The concept of asexuality hasn't been explored nearly as much as other queer identities in our scientific research. We get crumbs in terms of mainstream representation and understanding. House M.D. has an episode where House "disproves" us because he's just so smart.

Alastor isn't going to be perfect representation. There's no such thing as perfect representation, and from the moment he was conceptualized, you could see how people would take him poorly. Still, I think he's a net positive.

He isn't a side character or a token ace - he's a core part of the show, whose personality and character motivations we can reasonably presume are going to be explored much more deeply in upcoming season(s). He's loved by the fandom. Right now, given what we know, I trust Vivziepop to write the aroace representation he deserves, because with the way I've heard the cast/directing/etc. talk about him, they're trying to do the aroace community justice, so I wish people would let up just a little on the whole "Alastor is bad rep".

Let's give him a chance, all right?

[poorlittleyaoyao]

WRH expressing baseline interest/concern for his sons and being at least somewhat displeased out loud that they died, combined with novel!WRH who is not blackmailing WQ or WN and in fact favors them both because their dad was his favorite cousin, makes for an interesting contrast with our other resident supervillain JGS. Sure JGS doesn't have a canonical torture hobby for kicks, but WRH is capable of caring about other people, so?

Technically speaking, WRH in drama canon might not have a torture hobby! He has a demonic cultivation hobby, and he has people torn asunder by his legion of I Can't Believe They're Not Zombies, but if he's also torturing people on the side, we never see it. Meanwhile, MY seems to be serving WRH in the exact same capacity as he did NMJ; WC describes MY as being "a new right-hand man" who is "highly favored," and WRH commends MY for his strategy when battles (seem to) go well for them. JGS might well be the only one of JGY's bosses in The Untamed who makes him murder people beyond what one would expect in a war! YIKES.

But yeah, on rewatch, I was really struck by how much WRH genuinely cares about his sons? Not in an indulgent way; when WC fucks up, WRH rebukes him for his carelessness and doesn't accept whining excuses. (ex: when WC tries to blame his failure to intercept Wangxian & Co. at Dafan Mountain on WQ interfering, WRH snaps back that it's WC's own damn fault WQ interfered since he endangered her people.) But he doesn't ever force them to do something they REALLY don't want to do, as JGS does repeatedly with JZX. And I can't see WRH keeping his sons' killers alive on the off-chance they proved useful, as JGS does with WN. We see WRH become distressed at the news of WC's death; we do NOT get a similar scene with JGS even though we very pointedly get one with Madam Jin.

In fact, the one time we see one of WRH's kids actually afraid of him is in one scene prior to the sack of Lotus Pier, when WRH strikes at WC after WC tells him the Xuanwu of Slaughter is dead. In that scene, he's visibly ailing from a resentment-induced qi imbalance and isn't able to get treatment because WQ is in Yiling, and it's clear from WC's concern and shock that this is UNUSUAL. His behavior is due to the effects of the resentment on his body and spirit.

...And now that I typed all that out, you know who that sounds an awful lot like? NIE MINGJUE, who is annoyed at and stern with his little brother's fuckups, but doesn't become violent until he's got ancestral curses fucking up his blood. Ahhhh. AHHHH.

[tealvenetianmask]

Moxxie and His Weapons Grade Daddy Issues (Part 2)

How would Moxxie react to becoming a dad?

TLDR for part 1: Fans often overlook the magnitude of Moxxie's trauma and insecurity and the ways in which his issues make him rely heavily on both Millie and Blitz. He hasn't meaningfully worked through any of this, and I think we're going to need to contend with that in Season 3.

Let's start with the M&M relationship.

In lots of ways, Moxxie and Millie have a healthy, loving relationship- OBVIOUSLY. I actually think that one of the reasons why fans overlook their flaws is because they're so warm and sweet with each other, and from Season 1 onward, they were set up as a comforting relief from the repeated trainwrecks that stolitz kept making us watch. Okay. Let's give Moxxie and Millie credit and list the positives.

They recognize and celebrate each other's strengths. Moxxie LOVES when Millie kicks ass in battle. From the "Oh Millie" song all the way to his comments during the fight in Sinsmas, he's so smitten when she does her job well. Millie loves Moxxie's singing. She brags about his sexual prowess. She believes in his ability to excel on missions.

BOTH think each other are hot and aren't afraid to let the whole world know (sometimes in very inappropriate situations).

Both are motivated by helping each other. Millie, of course, will cut through dozens of goons to save Moxxie. Moxxie is motivated by Millie to stand up to Crimson. And to take the kill shot in Murder Family. She motivates him to set his ego aside in Unhappy Campers.

They share a zany, chaotic sense of fun.

Millie gives Moxxie a pep talk when her leg is in a fucking bear trap.

They seem to forgive each other's shortcomings easily. Millie followed up events in Exes and Ohs with "Next time, tell me if your daddy is a psychopath," and Unhappy Campers with "just don't do it again." Moxxie responds to Millie's outburst in Sinsmas with concern instead of judgment.

They give each other space for their various needs. Moxxie knows when to let Millie just spend time with her sister in Hell's Belles. Millie gives Moxxie time to do the investigation in Unhappy Campers "his way." And in turn (once he get through his freak out), Moxxie gives Millie the space and support necessary for her to enjoy her 15 minutes of fame.

Even with all of these genuine positives, I see some warning signs in their failures to communicate and Moxxie's utter dependence on the relationship.

Communication:

By the time we get Exes and Ohs, Millie has NO IDEA that Moxxie grew up in a mob family. I understand that it's because of trauma and concern for her that he keeps it secret. But they're a married couple and she knows nothing about his past. So Moxxie is carrying around a secret, and Millie is unable to help him with his trauma.

Moxxie refuses to ask for help from Millie when he needs it (Exes and Ohs, Unhappy Campers, just NOT COMING HOME without texting or anything when dealing with the "math nightmare" in Ghostfuckers). His need to prove himself actively harms their relationship in these situations.

Millie knows that Moxxie is insecure and traumatized (at least instinctively), so she waits until she ABSOLUTELY CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE before calling out his behavior. Millie waits until she reaches a boiling point to tell Moxxie to pay attention to her needs in Unhappy Campers. She supported Moxxie through an entire day of buying stupid art on the streets of LA before finally snapping about it after dark in Seeing Stars.

Now, Millie doesn't want to tell Moxxie about her pregnancy. And this is speculation, but I think that in addition to Millie grappling with her own emotions about this situation, she also doesn't want to sort out those emotions while having to take care of Moxxie's very intense emotions at the same time.

Dependence: First of all, it's okay to depend on your significant other for aspects of your wellbeing. Especially if it's mutual and especially if needs and capacities to give are properly communicated. But I do think their relationship is somewhat imbalanced.

Millie gives Moxxie a pep talk while her leg is in a fucking bear trap.

Millie's very often in a caretaker role, or making sure that Moxxie is being taken care of. She attends to his emotions in The Harvest Moon Festival, in Unhappy Campers, in Exes and Ohs... Even in Ghostfuckers, when Millie can't be present, she makes sure Loona is taking care of Moxxie. While sometimes one partner needs a lot of care, it CAN put a lot of pressure on the person who is doing all of the taking care.

It seems like usually, Moxxie's emotional needs come first, unless Millie demands to have hers met (i.e Unhappy Campers).

As explained above, Moxxie doesn't tell Millie about his emotional needs, so she has to do the emotional labor of figuring those emotions out before helping him with them.

I just . . . I love them, but I worry about them too.

Predictions for how Moxxie will react IF Millie decides to go through with the pregnancy:

These are predictions, obviously. The show very well might prove me wrong.

Personally, I'll think Moxxie will be overjoyed for about 5 minutes, because he loves Millie and has a fun and caring nature and wants to do a better job than his father did with him. And . . . oh shit . . . his father . . . he'll quickly start to freak out.

Moxxie's insecurity will play a role. Will he do a good job? No one can walk him through this, and he'll feel like if his kid ends up messed up, it will be HIS FAULT. And there's the masculine stereotypes that get involved when it comes to "being a good dad." I can picture Moxxie trying to build a crib from scratch and crying in the fetal position when the whole project falls apart. I can picture him getting stressed about the baby's health and early education and buying products that are marketed as "what the baby NEEDS" that are completely unnecessary, and all of this leading to a very frustrated Millie.

Moxxie will be extremely protective over Millie and their child. I think he won't want Millie going on assassin missions at all. He might fear that Crimson could want to hurt his child. I think the result is more perfectionistic planning and stressing and breaking down.

Moxxie has never been needed to this degree before. Millie is a self-sufficient person. With Millie's body going through terrifying changes and a huge shift in responsibility for both of them, he will have to be as present for her emotional needs as she is for his. He CAN'T get fully absorbed in fear or perfectionism or the need to prove himself, because he has to be there for his wife.

I also won't be surprised in Moxxie is faced with increased responsibility at work. Stolas doesn't know what he's doing, and are we getting more new I.M.P. employees too? Millie won't be there to take care of him, at least for a time, and he might actually have to lead other people. He's NOT READY for this.

So . . . is Moxxie capable of handling all of this if he goes through much needed character development?

I think so. He has the makings of a good partner and a good dad.

BUT I do expect at least one major blow-up (worse than the ones we've seen so far) along the way. And I hope it leads him to think very deeply about the baggage he brings and be open about this with Millie. Because they both deserve it, and they deserve to find happiness with each other, whether or not that involves a kid.

[burningcheese-merchant]

I need Eternal Sugar x Hollyberry content, please!

Dug to the bottom of the inbox mountain for this one lol. hollysugar-merchant, coming at you live 🫵🗣️🔥 (is that what the ship is called? HollySugar? I don't actually know, that's what i got used to calling it)

Eternal Sugar, being a musician, likes to play songs on her harp for Hollyberry. Eager to please, she at first went out of her way to pick up Hollyberrian tunes, knowing that Holly's people and culture are already quite musically inclined and believing it would win more of Holly's favor. After enough reassurance from Holly that she doesn't need to "impress" her (she just loves that Sugar can play something and is good at it, and she cares enough to want to play for Holly), Sugar allows herself to just play whatever song she has in mind at the time. Her goal had always been to serenade Holly and make her happy - and she always succeeds, which was all she wanted, anyway

Lots of brushing and styling each other's hair for fun, I can imagine. Eternal Sugar looks extremely feminine so it's easy to ascribe the "girly" affinity for makeup and hair and fashion and things of that nature to her. She'd love to dote on Hollyberry in this manner: just relaxing in their room, chatting with her while she brushes her hair. And Holly is happy to oblige, because she enjoys it and Sugar is really adorable when she does this

Hollyberry tries to encourage Eternal Sugar to go out and do things a lot, just in general. She can be (and often is, because it's Holly lol) a bit much, which leads to Sugar sort of digging her heels in and maybe them bickering about it, but Sugar at least acknowledges that Holly means well. Old habits die hard, is all. (Harder still when you're a Beast lol)

Sugar is very, very clingy in bed (sleep-wise, you perv lol). She'll curl up next to Holly, wrap her arms around her tight and not let go for anything. Good news is she's not super physically strong (not compared to Holly, anyway), so it's not that big of a hassle to peel her off when it's time to get up. Bad news is Sugar sleeps like the dead, so it's almost impossible to actually get her to wake up and start the day with Holly like Holly wants/prefers. And if/when she wakes up and notices that she is no longer glued to Holly like she was when she fell asleep... oh boy. It's Whinin' Time lol

Sugar finds Holly's family very cute. Her son in particular, just because of how much he resembles her. She dotes on him (and the others, of course; she also loves Princess very much, she's even more like Hollyberry than Royal Berry is) whenever she sees him. He and his friends and family get used to her presence and even welcome her to some degree after they stop being terrified of her lol

Sugar can be quite jealous, and doubles down on that jealousy when the one causing it actively does try to get in the way of her and Hollyberry. She goes back and forth between liking Wildberry and disliking him (Wildberry just dislikes her lol). She is sweet towards Jungleberry until the latter's mostly unshakeable distrust of her becomes a little TOO apparent. It is On Sight with Pitaya Dragon lol (she is VERY unhappy with how often Pitaya wants to spend time with Holly, even if it's only in a friendly capacity and the romantic threat is entirely imaginary. Pitaya just does not like Sugar in any way, shape or form; not really out of concern for Holly's safety or anything, he just thinks she sucks, there's really nothing else to it)

Sorry these are kind of lame :/ there's not enough for me to work with wrt Eternal Sugar. I'm sure I'll think of better things whenever she's added to the game and we actually see what she's like