#i won't go on the tangent again

[cosmicdreamgrl]

the bright spot today? LANY releasing a flawless if not very gut wrenching album, oh god, i nearly cried multiple times too. damn.

[owlyflufff]

haikyu's dumpster batte is only going to be around 1 hour and 24 minutes, oh it's genuinely bokuakaover

[aza-trash-can]

akshgfb someone wants to hear my theories/headcanons? This is the best, okay, @lewistheeditor ask ye shall receive

Although thinking back on it, I guess not a lot were dashed, only one really, but it's a whole connected thing in my head so it meant many details had to change, which felt like a lot to me.

Dashed Theory

He was found by Egeria in the human world

So originally, I imagined that after the hydro sovereign withered away and died, Neuvillette was born as an heir to the sovereign. He was born as a human (enkanomiya prophecy), but he quite obviously doesn't look completely human so his parents freaked out and just tossed him into the sea (what else do you do with what you think is a cursed child? come on people, this is me we're talking about, we need angst). Time passed, Egeria found him all alone, and she took to raising him as her own.

New Theory

He was found by Egeria in the Light Realm (or wherever it is the vishaps disappeared to after the fight with the Primordial One)

With this, hydro sovereign still withers and dies, Neuvillette is still born in the human world and gets tossed into the sea, BUT he is found by the vishaps very early on (like, same day or a few days after instead of after quite some time). The vishaps take him back with them to their world/realm and try (and fail) to raise him. Egeria is exploring this realm (why? idk, reasons. to study or something, idk), which I imagine to be very very dark and near impossible to see in, when this little kid finds her and starts to talk to her. She makes a connection with this kid, figures out he's the hydro sovereign's heir but he really isn't that bad at all, he's just a kid. Stuff happens (I could elaborate but man i gotta get it all straightened out in a google doc first), but the important thing to note is that after a few years he goes back with her to the human realm, and she raises him as her own.

Explanation

The whole reason I had this change is really inconsequential when it comes down to it, but it's the line "You will see much in the human world". That, to me at least, implies that he is going to the human world for the first time or is otherwise experiencing the human world for the first time; basically, that he didn't live there originally and was either brought there or travelled there himself.

I like to think that line and the whole phrase it's a part of is a summary or paraphrase of a prophecy made in Fontaine surrounding the heir to the hydro sovereign. Enkanomiya has it's prophecy, who's to say other regions, especially the region of hydro, won't have their own prophecies concerning the hydro sovereign's heir?

I like to think it was Furina paraphrasing Fontaine's prophecy to Neuvillette at some point after Egeria came back with the hydro sovereign's heir following after her. Why? I'm not sure, maybe she was trying to connect with him, or tell him he's destined for great things to bring his spirits up, who knows.

Of course, if it's a prophecy, and a paraphrase at that, he still very much could have been born and stayed in the human realm, but it's much more fun to imagine this little dragon kid living in the world of vishaps and meeting his first human (or human-like figure) and being completely fascinated with her, and sort of just following her around like a puppy.

[tarmac-rat]

Hey hey I need to uuh hum fight you at the back of a Denny's or something over those tags on my cyberpunk post lile wtf? That's such a good analysis of his character I love your work a lot in general but this is doing me in I'm gonna cry, you're so fucking right about this dumb broken man 🥺😠

I will not fight you I will bake you a cake and give you a kiss because you're very sweet I appreciate your kindness 😘

I really love your perspective on Johnny's disabilities and addictions impacting how he sees and interacts with the world-- as someone who herself isn't disabled I tend to overlook the way people view the world through that lens and as a result have realized that I haven't touched upon it much in my own analysis of Cyberpunk, and your insight really was spot-on and spoke to me in a way I hadn't considered before.

I talk a lot about the themes and meta of the game but Pondsmith himself came out and said, like, before the game came out that Johnny is not the hero of the story. He THINKS he's the hero of the story but the way people and even himself idolize him and his actions are in many ways his biggest shortcoming. Johnny is addicted to the image of himself, much like he's addicted to his vices and addicted to his cause. He needs his anchors no matter how detrimental they are to him, but in many respects those anchors were never his choice. Now he's stuck in his place, dug in and unable to move, and that's the way he dies. Alone, unmoored, and stuck in his ways.

He's a very tragic and even empathetic character-- I do understand why he does the things he does and feel for him when he suffers tragedies-- but treating him as a hero of this story is wrong, in my opinion. He's a disabled, traumatized war veteran who was set up in life to fail at a very early age. His flaws are of his own making. They are not of his own design.

[flockrest]

Hi! I am currently enjoying reading everything, just overall the homey vibe this blog has. I was a bit curious to learn- from your POV Do you think Tulin would grow to resent Revali- for his attitude towards Link? or would have another approach towards it- where it would benefit them all? Sorry was curious and well, I don't got many friends currently as focused and captured by the Rito's motifs in BoTW/ToTK

hello, hello! thank you so much for your lovely words, it makes me super happy to know that my blog is appreciated to this extent!! i hope you'll continue to enjoy your stay while you're here ♡ and no need to apologise! seriously, i'm always up for receiving asks like this; please feel free to drop by my inbox whenever you'd like :) as with tulin brainrot, you've come to the right place for some rito brainrot adfjsgkl

i don't think tulin would be able to resent revali, as they both are in canon, if he even tried! he's been such a huge part of his life for as long as he can remember — it's hard to untangle all the positive feelings and thoughts rooted down to your core and built up over all those years about someone like that. and when the pressure of aspiring to be like someone so revered has never felt like actual spiral-inducing pressure ( fr i could go on and on about his confidence and all the people who've nurtured it to that point 😭 ) but more like encouragement or intense faith, it gets impossibly harder to do so!

also i'm assuming you're asking this in an aoc context ( but will touch on the Potential of this concept, give me a sec slfdjkf ) given that tulin would have like. no knowledge of revali's feelings towards link and the way those were externalised unless he was explicitly told about them otherwise and honestly? the situation would confuse him more than anything, just because he's so young, in that child who doesn't understand that people can like him without liking each other way asflkfkj "the coolest people i know don't like each other which is so weird 'cause i like them and i'm pretty sure they like me WHY DON'T THEY LIKE EACH OTHER???" cue shenanigans from a kid who just wants all his Older People to get along and will forcibly have them bond if need be

that being said, please know that i'm only jesting and not being genuinely reductive with the whole "[revali and link] don't like each other" statement! it's how a very young tulin would interpret their interactions, but we all know there's something much deeper to how revali treats link sdlkdjf ( WE KNOW THIS, YES?? )

in circumstances where tulin would actually be able to grow up witnessing or knowing about this in full ( like, say, an au where revali survives or something ), i do think it could potentially lead to him developing a greater understanding of who revali is, by way of him...well, yeah, once again, meddling and attempting to "patch things over" and just generally being an annoyance with how much he'd be pestering revali with questions like "but WHY?" ( with no intention of inducing any real introspection, though possibly doing so anyway because he's a kid who really likes accidentally asking the hard-hitting questions slfkdj ) though lbr, the antagonism between revali -> link would be of a much different flavour than any shown pre-calamity at that point...but that's a post for another time!

ultimately, i can see the hero worship mellowing out naturally as he gets older, especially as he grows into his own role as a sage. the closest to any sort of real negative feeling he'd reach about revali in the process might be grief ( the kind you'd feel when you outgrow someone who was older than you but no longer is ), or an inability to understand his uhh. recorded eccentricities sklfjdfl but master revali is someone very important to him, and someone who will remain very important to him! he's not going to let that opinion be soured if he can help it :)

[hecatesbroom]

I hope you don't mind the influx of GG/Dorothy asks you've gotten because I really love your takes and your fics really touch upon a more vulnerable part of Dorothy that I feel was rarely fully explored but was very much present. I was watching recently an ep where Dorothy says she thought her father didn't like her or love her and Sophia cracked that he always talked her up ... to try and sell her to gypsies. Dorothy says "do you know how much that hurts me when you say things like that?". It's one of those lines that's never really followed up on or given a big moment but it stays with me.

Not at all!! I love hearing from you! <3 (and if you ever feel up to it, feel free to send me a dm as well! I'd love to hear more of your thoughts!)

Thank you so much :') I started writing Golden Girls fics precisely for that reason: Dorothy's vulnerability is left so underexplored in the show, even in the moments that (in my opinion, anyway!) presented the perfect opportunity to delve a little deeper into her feelings. I had to give her a moment to shine haha.

That line is the perfect example of what I'm talking about, actually! They throw in those really poignant lines or moments (or even just looks, at times) that hint at so much going on beneath the surface, but it's never expanded on. The only emotional moments she does get, that are fully followed up on, are those relating to Stan -- and even there I feel like a lot is glossed over (often by Dorothy herself, first and foremost).

I could probably write an essay on this but I'll spare you, but I think Sophia's often treated much the same -- if slightly differently -- in the show! And I mean, considering she raised Dorothy, I'm pretty sure she inadvertently ended up teaching Dorothy that covering up your vulnerability is the only way to deal with it. Sophia covers her feelings with quips and jokes, Dorothy does it through dismissal.

And because both of their methods for covering up are very convenient for a sitcom (I can drag Blanche into this as well, by the way. But I promised not to write an essay) it's *so easy* for the narrative to just. go along with their own dismissal of their feelings. Have Sophia distract from her feelings with a funny joke, and the audience is on the floor. Have Dorothy dismiss her feelings with a Look, and there's another opening for someone else to keep up the pace and move the scene along into lighter territory.

[rhythm-of-space]

My favorite find of the day

[manasurge]

I hope Mesmer rifle is gonna be as extravagant and unconventionally weird as possible bc those are my favourite types of weapon skills to use

[suiana]

✎ yandere! criminal who is helplessly in love with you, devoting his life to you and keeping your affections solely on him, and him only.

✎ yandere! criminal who can't help but flirt with you despite being so beaten up. i mean you're just so cute! why wouldn't he flirt?

✎ yandere! criminal who always reminds you that he has the upperhand no matter what his condition is like. he likes playing dirty.

✎ yandere! criminal who commits even more crimes after seeing you talk with someone who isn't him. doctor, you just never learn, do you?

"remember doctor, you may be smarter, but i always have the upperhand."

the criminal mutters, smirking as he leans into your touch. you merely click your tongue, grimacing at the his antics before going back to tending to his injuries.

you were his doctor, illegally caring for one of the most wanted criminals in the country simply because he was once your childhood friend. you knew it was wrong, you knew you should have rejected him the second he came stumbling to your apartment one day with a bloody wound.

but you didn't. you took him in and treated his injury, nursed him back to health and even offered your place as refuge if he ever needed medical attention again.

unfortunately, you failed to realise that the man was crazy in love with you, infatuated to such an extent that he would harm others without a second thought.

"please, you must understand, i've only ever wanted you to love me and not some other bastard. if you didn't talk to him i wouldn't have needed to hurt that guy."

he mutters, looking at you with such a fond expression that you would've mistaken for love. you really didn't know how to respond to his affections. after all, he was your childhood friend turned criminal. things would be even worse for you if you reciprocated him.

so you did the best thing possible and just ignored him whenever he went off on another tangent of his delusional rambles. you daren't speak up and reject him again. oh no, it happened once and you didn't want it to happen again.

"you look so sexy when you ignore me."

the criminal coos, placing his hand over yours as he brings it to his cheek. you uncomfortably maintain eye contact with him, grimacing as you allow him to mutter and talk about his love. it's okay... just tolerate it...

"oh baby, don't you get it? everything i do is for you."

yeah, you know. he tells you all the time. bout how all his crimes are dedicated for you or done in your name. of course he never says it to the public, he doesn't want you to get jailed! though, he can't help but fantasize about how romantic it would be if you two were both wanted criminals on the run together.

"why must you torment me like this? all i've ever wanted was for you to love me back."

he sighs, not noticing your pursed lips or obvious discomfort.

"never smile for anyone else. only i should have the honour of seeing it. all those other fools will never worship you the way you should be worshipped."

you can't help but twitch at his words. ugh, he always preaches about worshipping you and stuff. it's so... is he mentally insane too?

you get the love part, but the worshipping? you won't be surprised if he prays to you when he's on the brink of his death.

"no one gets me like you. that's why i love you so much."

your childhood friend mutters, finally letting go of your hand after pressing a tender kiss to the inside of your wrist. you allow your hand to limp by your side, standing like an npc as you continue to stare at him as he continues his dramatic talk.

you never knew he yapped so much before. when he was younger he was more introverted, more silent and just clingy. now he can't shut up. or maybe that's just around you.

you continue to listen to the male yapping, not really processing his words. hopefully it'll be over soon... but your hopes were crushed as you freeze in place, eyes widening in horror as he smiles widely at you, eyes fully deranged as he suddenly brings your hands to his cheeks, forcing your cold hands to cradle his cheeks.

"i mean, don't you love me too?"

shit, how do you answer this without meeting a bad fate?

[julymusings]

Jason Todd x Single Mom!Reader

I've been plagued for many months now by the idea of jason todd x young single mom!reader. I literally made this blog this morning just to post this

this is so LONG try as i might to shorten it i've been itching to get all this out of me so enjoy this word vomit i might just make a full fic if i'm feeling extra frisky

You got pregnant in college, and now you’re fresh out of grad school moving to a new city with your 3 year old daughter

You got a job at Wayne Enterprises, leading an important new project. You and your colleagues are invited to the latest Wayne Gala, hosted at the billionaire’s own manor. All these years as a young mother and a student, you hadn’t any experience with such extravagance-- how could you say no?

the party lowkey sucks because it's all old rich people so you sneak out to a balcony where you find a young man drinking whiskey and texting on his phone.

he introduces himself as jason, and his hand is rough and calloused when you shake it, but it's warm and sends a tingle up your arm. (😏)

You chat about your work, he complains about the stuffiness of a life at Wayne Enterprises and you laugh when he warns you to get out while you can (he's joking, of course. not because he thinks it's worth staying but because if you leave he'd never be able to hear that adorable laugh again)

when you go off on a tangent about how excited you are for your project, he's not even listening anymore. the sheer passion that lights up your face has his mind going fuzzy and a full orchestra playing in the background

you're pulled back in before he can get your number :( he's so mopey all weekend he doesn't even have it in him to retaliate when damian makes fun of him for having pink pony club as his top song for this month :(

when you get home your email is flooded with warnings from other parents at your daughter's daycare about a lice scare?? okay, you think, she's definitely not going on monday, you can just bring her to work with you, right? what's the worst that could happen?

the following monday he just happens to show up at the office (He can't just stop by to say hi to his brother who he loves?) (tim calls security almost immediately)

you're not at your cubicle (in a meeting, your desk neighbor informs him) so he mills about the floor like a lost puppy just waiting for you to show up so he can "accidentally" run into you

the woman at the front desk has a chair pulled up next to hers where this little girl with pigtails is sitting, trying to console her as tears stream down her face

jason springs into action, kneeling in front of her chair to ask what's wrong

she just sniffles and holds up her stuffed animal, an elephant whose button eye has popped out, the woman watching her trying to get her to hand it over so she can sew it back on but she wont let go

he goes full grey's anatomy, fussing over the toy like it's in mortal peril and complimenting her for being so brave before gently asking if he can try to fix it

she lets him take it and he uses the woman's travel sewing kit to stitch it back on

she's ecstatic, leaping forward into his arms to give him a big hug

but now she won't let him leave because no he has to have a conversation with the elephant first and introduce himself and give it post-surgery care instructions and listen to it talk about how much she it wants a puppy and he feels like such an idiot talking to that thing but anything to make this little girl smile

she pulls a little picture book from the backpack hung on the back of her chair and asks him to read with her and he can't just say no!

so he plops down on the tile floor and starts reading out loud and even though she's standing next to him craning her neck to see the pictures he's a head taller than her

when you finish your meeting and head back to the front desk to thank gretchen for watching your kid the sight you see makes your heart absolutely melt

jason and your daughter are sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor of Wayne Enterprises as he reads to her, and he's pulling out all the stops, he's doing voices, sound effects, and she's giggling so hard she can't sit up straight

but then they both finally notice you

"mommy!" she yells, running to you and wrapping herself around your leg

you're surprised to see him, but definitely not disappointed, and if what you just walked in on indicated anything, it was that you wanted, nay, needed this man

so now you're flushed and hopeful, mind running with possibilities of why he's here; could it be? he couldn't stop thinking about you either? he came all the way to ask you out?

but jason is also surprised, astounded even, by the miniature carbon copy clinging to your leg saying something about scooby snacks

he's freaking out on the inside

through a tight-lipped greeting he excuses himself with what he hopes is a neutral demeanor (spoiler alert: it's not) and goes home to think

and you obviously know exactly what that was about, one doesn't go through pregnancy at 19 without becoming well-acquainted with the whole catalogue of surprised/judgy reactions

of course you're a mess because the early/mid 20s dating scene is hard enough as it is but with a toddler? forget it, might as well just give up now

you go home to call your best friend and get drunk over face time while she assures you that men aint shit and offers to put a curse on him (you consider it, but how are you supposed to get a lock of his hair?)

he's up all night hating himself for being such an asshole and trying to come up with a scenario in which this works, in which he can have you in his life and also a child and be the red hood because he can't stop thinking about you

so then he just says fuck it and the next morning he shows up at your office with flowers and a puppy stuffed animal and finally asks you out

[ellecdc]

okay then consider this a request!! for poly!marauders or just remus/james/sirius, whatever you prefer, for a reader with excruciating period cramps (self-indulgent because mine are horrible, but whatever!!) if you could do it that would be awesome ily!

ok I'm sorry I really made this very much self indulgent in maybe the worst way ever lol. I've been having a lot of fun with chef!Sirius lately, and had briefly discussed this idea with @maladaptiveescapism a while back so it felt fitting. I've also gotten a lot of period fic requests before and have never been all that interested in them which is so strange seeing as I'm a person who experiences period's and they're really popular? WOW sorry, what a tangent. TL;DR, thanks for your request, sorry if I ruined it a little, I probably won't ever write a period fic again lol

chef!sirius x mixologist!reader who calls in sick to work because of her period [2.9k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: period fic, reader has PCOS, brief allusion to Sirius' shitty childhood, trans!Reggie agenda 'cause I can, Sirius worried reader won't be accepting of his trans brother (spoiler alert, we are because we love our trans homies), Sirius being the worst (positive & affectionate)

Sirius was on his best behaviour today.

Honest to god, hand to his heart, best behaviour.

But there was truly only so much one bloke could do when they had a Jeffery to deal with.

“I’m going to need one of your staff for the evening.” Jeffery said without preamble; standing half-in the kitchen with the swinging door to the floor propped open as if he wanted to ensure there were witnesses to this conversation should it go sideways.

“Jeffery, do you wake up every morning and smoke a bunch of crack before you come to work, or are you really just this dense?” Sirius spat as he dropped his pan in front of him and fought the urge to turn and give the floor manager a withering glare. 

Jeffery, well seasoned to Sirius’ theatrics, bit back an eye roll as he carried on. “We need someone to cover the bar.”

Sirius did turn at that, but his withering glare fell somewhere between aghast and bemused. “The bar?”

“The bar.”

“Why?”

“I need coverage for Y/N.” Jeffery explained with a sigh, clearly growing tired of Sirius’ line of questioning.

“Where is she?”

“She has called in sick, chef.”

“Sick with what?” Sirius continued, causing Jeffery’s brows to furrow as he stared at Sirius bemusedly. 

“I’m not exactly privy to those details, chef.” He explained slowly as if Sirius were some fussy toddler. 

“I just find it hard to believe that the same woman who left the hospital after getting her shoulder reset to come work a full eight hour shift would call in sick.”

Jeffery offered him a shoulder shrug (and a concerned look up and down that Sirius pretended he didn’t notice) before pilfering one of the kitchen staff for the evening. 

Sirius would worry about hating Jeffery later; he was more focused on figuring out what the hell was wrong with you and why you weren’t coming to see him to work. 

Sirius had his phone wedged between the side of his face and his shoulder whilst he juggled the many go-bags he had in his hands as he stood awkwardly outside of the door to your flat.

He admittedly knew where you lived only because he had driven you home after numerous closing shifts.

Fortunately, the intercom system in the anteroom of your building gave away your unit number.

Unfortunately, Sirius still had his hands full with the various go-bags.

Fortunately, an elderly lady was coming in at the same time and let Sirius into the building. 

Unfortunately, she insisted on chatting his ear off the whole lift ride up and actually held the door open to continue conversing even after they had arrived at her floor.

Sirius’ saving grace came in the form of the lift alarm buzzing for having kept the door ajar too long, and she was forced to bid him farewell. 

Which brought him here; standing outside of your flat like some kind of stalker as he waited for you to pick up your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, open your door.”

“Well hello to you too, chef.” You snarked at him again. 

“Yes, yes. I said hey, didn’t I? Open your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m standing on the other side of it.” 

There was the sound of a quick exhale and rummaging. “Why?”

“Listen, I’d love to play 20 questions, but do you think you could let me in first?”

You muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a swear before the line ended.

He allowed his phone to slip out of its place and into his awaiting hand when you flung the door open unceremoniously.

Now, Sirius could tell you’d not been expecting any company today; you were in the same clothes you’d likely slept in, your hair was perfectly rumpled from whatever position Sirius had just disturbed you from, and you looked more than a tad embarrassed to see him standing here.

He had sort of hoped you would look like a troll; make this raging flame he carried for you burn a little softer.

But no.

You just had to look ethereal and perfect and lovely and kissable.

Damn woman. 

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked, interrupting the both of you from staring at one another. 

“Helping?”

You made a breathy W sound - as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” but the words died on your lips as you took in Sirius’ many bags. 

“What did you bring?”

“I’ll show you everything if you just let me in.” He muttered as he motioned towards one of your nosey neighbours who had shoved her head out of her door when she first heard Sirius in the hall.

You peered around your doorframe and narrowed your eyes at her before allowing Sirius entry. 

“Finally.” Sirius teased as he moved to place his bags on your kitchen island. 

Sirius had never seen the inside of your flat, but if he had simply stumbled into your space by accident he would have known it was yours immediately. 

There was something so intrinsically you about your space that Sirius immediately felt at home too, even just for having stepped inside. 

“Sorry.” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly; bringing one of your hands to the back of your neck as you considered Sirius and all of his bags. “We’d just been watching some shows.”

Sirius immediately felt his heart fall out of his arse.

We? 

Had he read this completely wrong? Were you seeing someone? Was your home not simply yours, but one that you shared?

He found himself suddenly feeling quite defensive over your flat; it was too lovely, too wonderful, too comfortable for simply just anyone to enjoy.

“We?” He asked suddenly; tone taking on a bit of an edge he didn’t intend or consent to.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed behind you with your thumb; Sirius followed your gesture to a little tabby cat perched on the back of your sofa, tilting its head at the two of you as if it, too, was confused by Sirius’ sudden intonation. 

“You were watching shows with your cat?” He clarified; his voice now breathy in relief. 

“Birdie loves shows.” You countered defensively. 

“You named a cat bird?”

“No.” You argued. “I named my kitten Birdie. Do you not like cats?” You asked then, a teasing smirk growing on your face. 

“I like cats fine; where can I put this?” He asked instead; hoping to god you didn’t notice the blush heating up his face. 

He started unloading the many take-away boxes he’d prepared for you at the restaurant before skiving off the rest of his shift.

“What is this?”

“Food.”

“Sirius, why did you-”

“I asked what helped.” Sirius explained. “You said food; I brought food. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet dollface, but food is kind of my thing.”

“Smartass.”

“That too.” He replied with a wink, moving to put the desserts in your fridge. 

“Did you seriously come all the way over here just to bring me food?” You asked disbelievingly as you joined Sirius at the counter and peered into the bags.

Sirius had to tamp down the giddiness that threatened to consume him at how sweet and domestic this felt; you clad in your comfies as you helped him unload groceries. 

“I didn’t come all the way over here just to bring you food…I brought other stuff too.” 

“‘Course you did.” You muttered quietly, looking at Sirius with a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Go lay down.” He ordered instead as he went about plating your food - opening cabinets at random until he found what he was looking for. “I don’t hear laying down!” He sing-songed when he saw you still  standing in his periphery. 

You harrumphed before acquiescing; picking up your cat who made a little brrp sound as if to second Sirius’ directions. 

Finally content with his efforts, he moved to stand in front of you with a glass of water and some pasta he brought from work. 

You made an appreciative hum and sat up, which seemed to displease Birdie greatly. “God, maybe I need to find myself a personal chef.”

“Oi! Don’t go replacing me now.” Sirius scolded as he perched himself on your coffee table - perhaps a little casual for being a first time (uninvited) guest in someone’s home - but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh the job is so yours chef; you’re welcome here anytime.” You said around a mouthful of food. And even though Sirius knew you were joking, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering of his heart at the sentiment. 

“This is really good, Sirius, and super thoughtful; thank you.” You offered earnestly. 

“So I guess you don’t have any room for dessert, then?” He asked teasingly; his taunting smirk melting away immediately at the excitement that took over your face before he ran to retrieve it for you. 

“Why is she doing that?” Sirius asked after a while, gesturing towards Birdie with his chin who was rubbing her head against the leg of his pants.

“Why’s she doing what?” You asked bemusedly as Sirius fought every urge to wipe the little bit of chocolate from your upper lip. Unfortunately thankfully for him, you licked it out of his sight. 

“Head butting me; seems quite rude.” Sirius murmured as he watched the cat in bemusement. 

“That’s basically a cat hug, Sirius; she’s hugging you, or saying hello.” You chuckled at him.

“Get out.” He scoffed in disbelief. 

“Cats have little scent markers in their cheeks; when they rub against something, they’re affectionately claiming it as their own.”

“So like a dog pissing on trees?” He deadpanned.

“Affectionately claiming you as their own; offer her your hand, Sirius.”

“But what if she-”

“Chef, offer her your hand.” You barked at him with no heat. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes challengingly at you but did as he was told; pleasantly surprised when the cat moved the rubbing from his trousers to his hand. 

“Have you never met a cat before?” You asked as you considered him.

“No…I have.” Sirius offered slowly, admittedly enjoying the velvety soft fur of your little companion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” You teased as you placed your now empty dish on the side table. 

“My family had a cat growing up; a horrid thing. I swear to god my mum taught him how to attack me. Loved my brother though, but was nasty as all get out to anyone else.” 

“Really? Was he a stray before he lived with you?”

“Nope.” Sirius offered with a pop of the p. “Raised that fucker from kittenhood. Lived a god awful long time too, just to spite me; I wished every year on my birthday that it would die.”

“Sirius!”

“I’m not joking! My brother and I would sneak cupcakes up to my room and he’d light a candle for me and tell me to make a wish. One of them was always ‘please for the love of god let Kreacher die before me’.” He didn’t think now was the time to admit that his other wish was always ‘please for the love of god let us make it out of here alive’. 

“That’s awful; you’re awful.” You laughed. 

“No, Kreacher was awful; I was but a boy.”

“I can’t believe you got after me for naming my cat Birdie when you had a cat named Kreacher.” 

“I didn’t have a cat named Kreacher, my brother did.” He responded haughtily. 

“Who named him?”

“I did.”

“Why?” You laughed again. 

“‘Cause he was a tiny, awful, hateful little gremlin and needed a name that said as much!” 

The two of you laughed until your hands migrated to your abdomen and you began massaging into your skin; a small divot appearing between your brows.

“What is it?” Sirius asked quietly then.

You tried to shake your head and offered him a tight smile. “S’okay.”

“Is it cramps?”

“Yeah.”

“Lie back.” He instructed as he stood from his seat on the coffee table - his mother would be rolling in her grave if she’d seen him with such a lack of manners.

Good.  

“Sirius, really, you’ve-”

“Lie back.” He whispered again, one hand on your shoulder as he gently guided you so that you were lying along your sofa with your head propped up on the armrest.

Stealing himself for perhaps embarrassing himself completely and making this whole precarious situation between the two of you go tits up, he finally shucked off his jacket and boots before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and lowering himself onto the bottom half of your couch.

You watched silently as Sirius situated himself between your legs so that his shoulders and head rested on your abdomen as he weaselled his arms under your back, placing both of his palms up against your lower back.

“Relax.”

“What?”

“You’re tense as shit, doll; relax.” He murmured as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

You let out a breath and sank further into the couch as the two of you fell into comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered after a few moments.

“You already thanked me.” He whispered back.

“No, I-” You cut yourself off as you gathered your thoughts; a tentative hand absentmindedly making itself at home in his hair as you found your words. “Thank you.” You settled on.

“You’re welcome.” Sirius offered.

“Where’d you learn this?”

Sirius propped his chin up so he could at you; your hand pausing as your eyes flit to it as if you were only now realising what you’d been doing. “Learn what?”

“The pressure? The body heat. The…helping, with cramps?” You asked tentatively, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he’d think you perhaps looked a touch bashful at your questions - your eyes seemingly incapable of meeting his. 

And once again, Sirius found himself taking another jump, or rather, a complete leap of faith that could very well have this thing the two of you had been building crumble and fall before it even had a chance to start.

“Uhm, it was my brother, actually.” He admitted quietly.

Your eyes did finally meet his at that, where they narrowed a touch in confusion.

“You learned this….from your brother?” 

Sirius nodded as he swallowed nervously. “Right. He uhm, well, it often helped him with his cramps and such, so…yeah.” 

It was apparently his turn to be incapable of meeting your eyes as he moved his head so that it was resting against your stomach again.

“You’re a good brother.” You finally offered.

“Well of course I am.” Sirius offered through a breath of relief. “I’m good at everything I do.” 

“You’re a git.”

“I’m good at that too.”

You gave a disciplinary tug at Sirius’ hair which made him think of several sinful things he’d like to be doing with you whilst you did that next time, but he simply chuckled and sank further into you.

“I didn’t exactly sit like this with him, mind you.”

“No? What does that make me, then?”

“Special.” 

“I guess so.” You breathed out through a chuckle. “Coming over on your day off just to spoil me.”

“It wasn’t my day off.” He responded without thinking, tensing when he felt you suck in a breath.

“Sirius.”

“Mhm?” He offered in faux nonchalance.

“You left work for this!?”

“For you?” He asked as he considered you. “Absolutely.”

“For gods sake, Sirius. I bet Jeffery-” 

But he never got to hear what you thought of Jeffery as he let out a very petulant and dramatic groan and lowered his forehead to your stomach. 

“Babe, I know this isn’t exactly the same thing, but generally a man does not want to hear the name of another bloke when he’s in between your legs, yeah?”

You barked out a laugh and swatted at his shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“Terrible.”

“The worst.”

“Absolutely horrid.”

“Giving Kreacher a run for his money.”

Sirius’ head shot up at that as he levelled you with a warning glare. “Too far.”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

“You better be.” Sirius grumbled as he lowered himself back down. “Now be a doll and play with my hair again; it’s nap time.”

And there was an equal chance that you were going to laugh, swat at him, or downright tell him to get his arse back to work.

But Sirius was admittedly overjoyed when you simply placed your fingers back into his hair and began to massage until you fell asleep; him not much longer after you.

[e-pistulae]

in today's letter (sob): cicero gets distracted by hyping up messalla! cicero needs to defend himself against brutus' criticism that he is too willing to decree random honours for people, and also loves executing people too much! cicero does NOT go off on a tangent about virtue ethics! he DOES mention wishing brutus had killed antony though! again! cicero starts recounting how he once again defended the republic but then gains self awareness:

cicero did nothing wrong in giving all those honours to octavian and should maybe even have given him more! maybe the point is actually less about octavian (and decimus but who cares) than about posterity remembering how much everyone hates antony! cicero calls brutus' friends in rome clumsy politicians! cicero is a liarrrrrr:

cicero won't apologise for the lepidus' cringe statue incident and also he thinks brutus should kill peopleeeeee! cicero proclaims that there won't be a republic left no matter which side wins! one final fuck you to the children of public enemies! cicero promises to defend brutus' nephews, the children of a public enemy. but also they can get fucked! and cicero puts brutus' wishes above his own political reasoning! wauuhghhghhh i miss him already

about e-pistulae | previous letters | subscribe to emails from cicero?

[hyperfixationgoddess]

Inspired by the fanfiction link above; kind of an aftermath scenario. I love the idea of Wayne being extra protective of Steve after Steve saved Eddie's life, and getting even more protective of him after he and Eddie start dating. What can I say, I'm a Wayne Munson simp. Also, while I might not have a lot of respect for him anymore, see if you can find the John Mulaney quote I slipped in here! @artiststarme I hope you like it!

Finally Protected

Wayne Munson was a lot of things. A salty grump, a loner, an uncle, a father.

But most of all, he was loyal.

Once someone earned his loyalty, it lasted for life. He would stick with them through thick and thin, and defend them against anyone. And against all odds, Steve Harrington had earned his loyalty.

Anyone with eyes could see that Steve was head over heels in love with Wayne's boy. Which was why he could not comprehend why it was Steve who was on the receiving end of all these goddamn shovel talks.

Found family, my ass, he thought to himself. Even that Buckley girl had given Steve a talk. Were they all stupid? They'd known Steve, really known him, for much longer than Wayne or Eddie had. How could they still think that Steve would hurt anyone, much less Eddie?

The worst thing about it was, Wayne knew that Steve would forgive them. It didn't matter how many times the Party hurt him, Steve would just shrug it off, like his feelings didn't matter. And considering Steve had already earned the loyalty of the Munsons, Wayne had a problem with that.

A big problem.

The day after Eddie apologized and the two boys made up, Wayne dropped by to talk to Steve. Even as he settled on the couch in the living room, he could see the tension in Steve's shoulders.

"You can relax, kiddo," he said. "I'm not mad at ya. Not here to give you another goddamn shovel talk, either."

Steve's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Wayne nodded. "Eddie's an adult now, and he knows how to take care of himself. No, I'm here to talk about the rest of the Party."

Steve looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Wayne sighed. "Boy, you need to set some boundaries with these people."

"Boundaries?"

"Steve, I know this ain't the first time these folks have hurt you. Lord knows Eddie has gone on many rants about how the kids keep calling you an idiot, or how the Wheeler girl cheated on you after 'she ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.' Eddie's words, by the way."

Steve looked uncomfortable, now. "Well, the kids are just messing around. And I shouldn't have tried to hold on to Nancy the way I did."

"The kids are old enough now to learn how to mess around without being disrespectful. And Nancy should have been honest with you instead of leading you on," Wayne countered.

Steve still looked apprehensive. Wayne sighed (again-he'd been doing that a lot lately).

"Look, Steve, I'm not saying you have to cut them out of your life. I know that'd be devastating for ya. But just letting them hurt you, and not saying a word about it... You deserve better than that."

Steve's eyes misted over. "No, I don't," he choked out. When Wayne opened his mouth to protest, the kid shook his head rapidly. "You don't understand, Mr. Munson, I was a really bad person in high school. The things I said about people... I'd tear them down without a second thought. I-"

Sensing that Steve was about to go on a self deprecating tangent, Wayne cut him off.

"Did you know that Eddie used to rant about you?"

This seemed to startle the kid. "Um... What?"

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, I won't go into details, but he was very vocal about how much you bugged him... But then, out of nowhere, in 1984, he stopped. I asked him why, because I was curious. Do you know what he said?"

Steve gulped. "What?"

"He said, and I quote, 'he hasn't actually been an asshole in a while, and now that everyone else is trying to kick him down, I don't want to contribute to that.' You made a change, Steve. Not many people are willing to do that. Hell, most ain't even willing to believe that there's something wrong with em. But you were. I'll keep telling you, as many times as I have to for it to sink in. You don't deserve to be hurt."

The tears Steve had been holding back this whole time finally seemed to overwhelm him. Wayne scooched over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"You've had to be strong for so long, kid. Let me look after you, yeah? Lord knows you deserve protection just as much as Eddie does."

Steve didn't answer, but he nodded. That was enough for now.

--0--

Wayne had been pacing around Steve's living room for about ten minutes when he finally heard the doorbell ring. It would appear that this group traveled as a pack, because every single member of the party was there.

That is, every member but two.

"Mr. Munson?" Dustin asked confusedly. "What's going on? Where's Steve?"

Wayne grunted. "All of ya just come in. I'll explain once you get settled. And I'm sayin this now, I expect you all to listen."

When everyone was sitting around the living room, Hopper was the first to speak up. "So Wayne, what's going on? Where's the kid?"

Wayne scowled. "If you mean Steve, he's at my trailer with Eddie. If that were big enough, we'd be there instead, but there's too many of you, and I need you all to hear this."

The Buckley girl looked extremely confused. "Why would you want us here if Steve isn't?"

Wayne took a deep breath in an attempt to control his anger. "Because it would seem to me that you lot forget just how much that boy does for all of you."

Joyce furrowed her brow. "Um... What?"

"You folks got a lot of nerve, acting like Steve is the one who's gonna hurt Eddie. He ain't a ticking time bomb, and you gotta stop treating him like it. After everything he's done for you lot, it astounds me how you can still treat him like crap. Found family, my ass."

Nancy Wheeler opened her mouth with an angry expression, but Wayne cut her off. "Don't go acting so high and mighty, Wheeler. Did you even realize that Steve still flinches when anyone uses the word bullshit? You tore his heart out of his chest and stomped on it, and then slept with another guy before you even broke up with Steve properly."

That seemed to shut her up. Good.

"And as for you kids, how many times has Steve taken a beating for you? The only ones that I've seen being respectful to him are Will and El. The rest of you... You've all been the victims of bullies, according to Steve. So explain to me, how in the hell can you justify the way you all treat him on a daily basis? Insulting his intelligence, bossing him around, disregarding the work he's done to change, all of that has to stop."

The kids tried to protest, but Wayne was on a roll. He rounded on Joyce, Hopper, and Robin. "Hopper, Joyce, Eddie is my kid. He ain't your responsibility. You had no right to give Steve that goddamn shovel talk as if he were still the guy he was in high school. And you, Miss Buckley? You call yourself Steve's best friend. You might wanna try acting like it.

"Now, I know that Steve sees you all as family. That's the only reason I ain't told him to cut you folks out of his life. But Steve has got no standard for how he should be treated as a human being. Whether you lot realize it or not, you've all taken advantage of that. He thinks that he deserves it, but I've seen the effort he makes every day to be better than he was. Most won't even accept that they need to be better, and it would seem that you folks are a part of that majority. I know that he deserves better, and I ain't even known him a whole year. That says something about you, don't it?

"Now, you are going to give Steve as much space as he needs. You won't ask him to babysit, you won't ask him to chauffeur you around, you won't ask him for money. You'll take some time to think about how you've treated him. And when you feel you're ready to apologize-not because of guilt or obligation, but because you mean it-you tell me. I'll let Steve know. But only when Steve is ready to see you all again, and not a second more, will I let you talk to him."

Wayne shared a vicious smile with El and Will, and then looked at the rest of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Now get the hell out of my future son-in-law's house."

Fin

[mxr1na]

🌞⋆🫧`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹Sunburnt- Satoru Gojo x !black reader🌞⋆🫧`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

A/N: Just felt like writing something :3

Sypnosis: The strongest always has his infinity up, but didn't realise a potential threat to himself was imminent in his everyday life

Warning: None, unless if you don't like black y/n. Then you're the Trigger warning 😨😨

546 words~

. . . . . ╰──╮✩₊��.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚ෆ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚ෆ╭──╯ . . . . .

"You have got to be kidding me," your boyfriend groans as you apply sunscreen on his hot back and face.

You both decided to go on a short vacation to Okinawa together, since you both had a free window.

"I warned you to put on sunscreen, but noooo, you had your infinity, you said. The sun won't affect you, you said," You smirk.

Satoru turns to you and pouts.

"Yeah, yeah I know, stop bullying me. Ugh, it's no fair, why do you look drop dead gorgeous in the sun and aren't a victim of the sun like I am?" He traces over your arm, which, in his eyes, glowed against the sunrays. "I look and feel like a burnt hotdog,"

"First of all, you have the intelligence of a burnt hotdog. Second, I am a potential victim of the sun, I can actually still get sunburnt, and skin cancer," You were about to go on a tangent on how its very important for people of colour to also be cautious in the sun, but Toru just mimics you in a nerdy voice that all of us are all too familiar with.

"Shut up, will ya' Toru?" You push him out of your lap, and he pretends to fall face first into the sand. Your white haired freak looks at you, with a very unappealing sand mask on his face.

"How, dare you? Turning away your boyfriend in his most vulnerable moments? Do you even love me anymore?!"

You smear some sunscreen on his face, the gross mixture caking half of his face, and begin to run towards the ocean.

"Hey! Get your ass back here!" The supposedly 'strongest' sorcerer chases after you, in an attempt to make you atone for the sins you committed.

Unfortunately, you didn't get very far, soon enough, he reached you in the water, picked you up, and like the gentleman he is, drops you back into the blue sea.

After playing like two children (And getting some looks from other young adults that clearly never properly lived once) you both get out of the water, shivering from the cold, and sit at the coast.

"You know," Gojo says beside you, flicking away some stray sand grains.

"I wasn't lying earlier, you do look absolutely stunning in the sun," He turns and kisses you.

"The way your skin shimmers like glitter, you look like a goddess," His voice is earnest, like he's speaking with his full heart, and then some.

The only reply you could produce that moment was your head nodding slightly to the side.

"What? Can I not compliment you once in a while?"

"Oh, no, you should definitely do that more, it strokes my ego in ways I didn't know were possible. You're, just, sweet when you aren't acting like a kid all the time,"

"Hey! I can be a sweet and ego stroking boyfriend whenever I want!"

"Yeah, well promise me, you'll just stay as you are, no matter if you're blue, yellow, or a certain sunburnt red,"

He somehow gets redder.

"I hate you,"

"You love me,"

You lean him in for a kiss again, as the sun begins to set.

Even though he didn't say it, he promises he won't change at bit.

For you.

. . . . . ╰──╮✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚ෆ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧₊˚ෆ╭──╯ . . . . .

Mxr1na 2024. Do NOT copy, rewrite or claim work as your own. If you see my work elsewhere, please send an ask :3

[cobragardens]

CORRECTED & UPDATED Clothes + Equivocation = Romance: The Husbands in 1793 (Part 2)

From Part 1:

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what the husbands communicate to each other without using words or actions to do it, and how their clothing choices help them do that.

Hello. I'm here and I know you're in a spot of trouble. I like you.

It's you! I'm so happy you're here!

Sheen's voice and face when Aziraphale says Crowley's name in this moment makes me think that Aziraphale is in love with Crowley--the demon Crowley, not the angel who became Crowley--long before he consciously realizes it in 1941. The way Sheen has Aziraphale say Crowley's name is so soft.

The way you're he way you're lounging there and what you're wearing are uncomfortably sexy and also incredibly inappropriate for the Bastille at this moment in history. I suppose this is very on-brand for you.

Crowley: I listen when you talk about your interests and goals and keep track of your general whereabouts and pursuits.

Either they've spoken with each other recently or Crowley has been keeping tabs on Aziraphale. Aziraphale isn't upset that Crowley knows what he's been up to, which suggests the former, which in turn suggests they're in semi-regular (every few years or decades) contact at this point.

Also we've now got a general idea for when Aziraphale opens his bookshop.

Okay, brief tangent while I point out two things here.

One, my favorite thing about Aziraphale is that he is a sensualist. This is libertine behavior, y'all. He 'popped across the Channel' during the Reign of Terror because he wanted a specific carnal experience of a specific really lovely food.

And two, even when Aziraphale does weird, frivolous, silly, ill-advised things like this, things that clearly baffle Crowley...Crowley never makes fun of him. He never laughs at him. He always has this look of disbelief on his face, like Am I hearing this?--

--but Crowley never, not once, shuts Aziraphale down.

Until Aziraphale asks him to go back to Heaven.

Anyway. Back to our scene.

Aziraphale: I am unwilling to abandon my sartorial sensibilities even when it threatens my corporation, and I am insane, so I think this is reasonable. At least I'm not wearing a Slutty Monarchist outfit.

You're happy to see me, aren't you. You're relieved to see a demon. Go on, say it.

Tennant's delivery of this line cracks me up. It is so gloating and flirtatious and smarmy and indulgent of Aziraphale.

I am very happy to see you and lucky you're here, and I am willing to say so sincerely even though you are gloating about it.

And then there's the exchange where Crowley very carefully doesn't answer Aziraphale's question about why Crowley's in the area but also reassures him that he didn't cause the French Revolution and Aziraphale can still like him.

We can't speak openly about this. It's dangerous for me.

Message received: I won't mention what you did again. But I want to show my gratitude and spend time with you; is it safe for us to get lunch together?

Yes, but one of us is going to have to change so we can walk the streets of Paris without getting arrested again, and I'm the one doing the rescuing here so it's not going to be me. Your 'standards' will have to take the hit.

Fine, you've got me over a barrel. But hey, if I have to wear the silly hat anyway I might as well go all the way and wear your colors. Except not monarchist. And not slutty.

Oh, I don't know, I thought you looked pretty slutty too. (Meaning 2) I'm having this guy killed for touching you, btw. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. I see you are having the guy who assaulted you killed in a copy of the clothes he would have killed you for wearing. I wholeheartedly approve of this (Meaning 3), your sexiness in those clothes notwithstanding. The utter insouciance of Crowley's little sniff and the inquiry about what they'll have for lunch drive home hard that Crowley could not be more unbothered by Aziraphale having the man who tried to harm him beheaded.

What really tickles me about this line is not only that Crowley's joke has three distinct meanings, but that Meaning 1 (the meaning that exists without reference to Crowley's clothes) is the opposite of Meaning 3--Anybody wearing clothes like that deserves what they get (Meaning 1) versus It rocks how you just killed someone who tried to kill you for wearing those clothes (Meaning 3)--and yet because of the clothes he's wearing, both meanings come through with perfect clarity, dependent only on whether the listener(s) can see his clothing and know its significance. Aziraphale can, and does, so he receives Crowley's real meaning. Hell/Heaven can't, and don't, so they just hear Meaning 1.

And then we get Aziraphale's pleased little smile and look of tranquil interest as he watches Jean-Claude dragged off to his death. Its such an interesting facial expression for an angel watching a demon have someone killed having someone killed, isn't it?

Crowley has just told him they're probably being listened to by Hell. That means Aziraphale, Crowley, and the audience all know this is the most Aziraphale can safely react. Aziraphale can't show any overt approval of anything an agent of Hell does, because by definition anything a demon does is demonic and angels must be against That Sort of Thing. In light of the fact that Aziraphale is the one who causes Jean-Claude's death, I now argue that this responsibility not to react too positively to something the other side has done falls on Crowley, and that the reason he makes this joke is primarily to tell Aziraphale I see what you've just done, and I like it without identifying aloud what exactly has just happened for their presumed eavesdroppers because an angel arranging a human's murder is the sort of thing in which head offices might take undue interest.

The awareness that their conversation is not private means the audience and Aziraphale know they need to be watching and listening for multiple meanings from Crowley, and it also means the audience and Crowley know we need to be watching Aziraphale's face closely right now. And that little smile shows us that Aziraphale has received Meanings 2 and 3 of "he was asking for trouble."

Or, at minimum, Meaning 3; even if Aziraphale picks up on Meaning 2--You looked really sexy in your vintage clothes, you crazy weirdo--that's not a message he can afford to react to at all. But he does react to the other coded communication Crowley is sending when he says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" while dressed for trouble himself: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. People who think your clothes give them the right to hurt you can go to Hell, and I am delighted you just sent one of them there.

You just had someone beheaded for assaulting me, I acknowledge and am pleased by your delight at my cleverness. and I could not be happier. Would you like to come enjoy one of my very favorite sensual pleasures with me?

***

EDIT: To be honest I like this reading better than my original, incorrect understanding of the story despite the fact that it is slightly less romantic, both because I love the idea of Crowley as a thirsty witness to Aziraphale quietly being a vengeful badass, because it gives us a glimpse of something important about Aziraphale's character that we don't get to see elsewhere: Aziraphale doesn't have a problem with killing per se.

We learn from the business with the Antichrist that, like Crowley, Az. can't bring himself to kill children. We learn from his perturbation at the Flood and the Crucifixion that he doesn't hold with killing innocents. He gave away his flaming sword. But this scene establishes that Aziraphale will actively cause someone's death if he feels they deserve it. That seems like an important character note for him that may become relevant in Season 3 (feathers crossed that it happens).

And I think there's something else in there too, something about how Aziraphale kills Jean-Claude, not with outright violence but with a trick. One party thinks he's in control of the situation; with a wave of his hand, suddenly a turnip has turned into an inkwell an executioner has turned into the condemned--or at least it seems that way long enough to get the job done. It's a bait-and-switch, like stage magic, and it slots right in to the motif in Good Omens of sleight-of-hand, of characters wearing other characters' appearances (for more on this, see fan theories re: Maggie is possessed), of supplying false meanings to an audience to disguise the true actions going on behind the scenes.

[dootznbootz]

LOVED the Vengeance saga, hated Calypso's song I'm sorry

**is being creepy and obsessive over a man who's clearly in distress and doesn't like her, as well as she ACTIVELY keeps him on her island for SEVEN YEARS against his will** "W-Well my love is just too much for you"

I get she didn't rape him in EPIC, but she was still terrible towards him and washing down to "her love was just too much for him" is a bit iffy to me :((

Honestly? I think "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" is actually fantastic in showing HOW Manipulative and selfish she is.

She's doing a "Woe is me" with her loneliness, she is still somewhat putting the "blame" on Odysseus with her "My love being too much for you, sorry that you can't handle it", when it's straight up not taking no for an answer, she even constantly speaks over Odysseus. Yeah, she's "not sorry".

Even with her beautiful voice, (wonderful job Barbara Wangui!) and sweet melody, it's like she IS supposed to be this "perfect paradise, song, goddess, etc."

What really bothers me is Epic Odysseus' "I love you...Just not in the way you want me to".

I think there either needs to be more apprehension in his voice when he says that. Maybe even in Calypso's tangent, he realizes "oh shit, she's making the island do shit. oh think quick to calm her down." and then having to say "Not in the way you want me to." to still make it clear that he's leaving.

I hope we get an explanation from Jay for his wording here? Because while Odysseus did appreciate Calypso helping him heal and recover from being at sea without food and water for a while AND most likely injuries in general, like...He Never loved her.

In some ways, I almost wish we got a bit more of the Odyssey for his answer. As Calypso, basically mocks Penelope and "why do you wanna go back to her? She will age and I won't. this place is perfect. I am perfect."

And then Odysseus being like "...You're an immortal goddess, ofc, she can't compare to you. She will age and go old. But I will stop at nothing to get back home. I've already been through so much shit, if it means going home, I can go through more."

[...] But if you only knew, down deep, what pains you’d stay right here, preside in our house with me and be immortal. Much as you long to see your wife, the one you pine for all your days … and yet I just might claim to be nothing less than she, neither in face nor figure. Hardly right, is it, for mortal woman to rival immortal goddess? How, in build? in beauty?” “Ah great goddess,” worldly Odysseus answered, “don’t be angry with me, please. All that you say is true, how well I know. Look at my wise Penelope. She falls far short of you, your beauty, stature. She is mortal after all and you, you never age or die … Nevertheless I long—I pine, all my days— to travel home and see the dawn of my return. And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wine-dark sea, I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total— bring the trial on!”

(Book 5, Fagles)

Puttng in Fitzgerald's too because I wike it :3

"[...] If you could see it all, before you go -All the adversity you face at sea- you would stay here, and guard this house, and be immortal- though you've wanted her forever, that bride for whom you pine each day. Can I be less desirable than she is? Less interesting? Less beautiful? Can mortals compare with goddesses in grace and form?" To this the strategist Odysseus answered: "My lady goddess, here is no cause for anger. My quiet Penelope-- how well I know--would seem a shade before your majesty, death and old age being unknown to you, while she must die. Yet, it is true, each day I long for home, long for the sight of my home. If any god has marked me out again for shipwreck, my tough heart can undergo it. What hardship have I not long since endured at sea, in battle! Let the trial come."

Even his usage of just simply defending Penelope by saying "My Wise Penelope" and how he's still saying "Yep! You are a goddess! Penelope is mortal... I'm still going home!"

This is something I find interesting with Epic Odysseus on Ogygia: After he speaks of Penelope the first few times in "Love in Paradise". He doesn't really talk about her on Ogygia again. Even at the ending of "Love in Paradise", when he's about to "close his eyes", he doesn't speak of Penelope or anything. Which is like, his one driving force for living at this point, in the Odyssey and the Musical. He's just wracked by grief, when it's mostly the fact that he's fucking TRAPPED and can't leave to go HOME.

It makes me wonder if for Epic Odysseus, he is trying to not mention Penelope as much to keep Calypso's anger at bay. Especially when you think of how in the source material, Calypso mocks Penelope and he has to carefully word things to not anger her as a goddess yet still make it clear that he will leave. He wants to leave and he doesn't care if there's more shit he has to deal with. He has to try.

Or maybe it's a spell of some sort. idk. Especially as we have Odysseus once more singing about Penelope and how much he longs for her once he's off Ogygia. Just a thought :P

I almost get this weird vibe that Epic is making Circe more of a "villain" than Calypso (which yes. Circe did coerce Odysseus in the Odyssey and was trying to in Epic. I literally wrote a whole essay about it.) But like, in comparison, Circe in Epic is not nearly as bad as Calypso in Epic. Same in the Odyssey. Like Circe DOES eventually become an "ally" after Odysseus begs her to let him leave, Calypso had to be FORCED to let him go. IN BOTH EPIC AND THE ODYSSEY.

idk. funky feelings :/