#i wonder i fandom is mostly angry

[rainbowbeanstyles]

i love when arcane ended when viktor and jayce saved the universe with their homosexual love and everybody ended up alive, happy and together❤️

[dukeofthomas]

I don't want Jason as a declawed version of himself, all 'murder Is Wrong' and part of the batfam, but I also don't want him as an evil 'I blow up schools and shoot people for fun' villain.

I also once saw someone say a big part of the divesiveness here comes from how Robin!Jason and Red Hood!Jason are practically different characters. If you want villainous Red Hood, you make Robin Jason more aggresive, angrier, you make him more like what he'll become as an adult. And if you like Jaybin, you explain his murders and mistakes as side-effects of the pit and make Red Hood nicer and more agreeable, like how he wss before.

But I feel like both are a disservice to his character, but the 2 extremes of him are also really hard to reconcile.

[yandere-sins]

Bad Guy

First Prompt! And I just so happen to find a character that I thought would really match the vibe I wanted to go for. I'm so excited to write for him since I've been mostly keeping out of writing for LaDS, but I do love the characters ♥

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Pairings: Yandere!Sylus x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Dub-Con, BJ, Gagging, Non-Con Touches, Lingerie, Reader is a virgin and inexperienced, Pet names, Degradation, Nicknames), Mention of Body Issues, Forced Captivity, Swear Words, Long Post Prompt: @sintember Innocence - What would you do to preserve it, what will be done to tarnish it?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Come now, you make me look like the bad guy."

Legs quivering, you could barely stomach looking down at yourself. It didn't help that you felt how skimpy the outfit was with every move you made. Felt the strings that kept the fabric together pressed into your skin, bit you as if the shame was not enough harm. But looking up and straight ahead was not an option you had either. Not when you knew the smirk on the face that awaited you. Knew about the hungry, predatory sheen in Sylus' eyes if you met them head-on.

Why you? Why did he choose you? You kept wondering as you stood in his bedroom, barely two steps from the man who had ruined your life. You couldn't think of a good reason as to why he needed to keep you to himself, lock you up like an exotic animal, and demand to be the only one to put their eyes on you. Maybe if you had been especially pretty or incredibly rich, his infatuation would have made sense. But it really didn't. None of his actions made sense.

And by now, you didn't even know if you wanted to cry or be angry with him anymore.

The sheer, triangle coverings did nothing to hide, only to expose your nipples, strained as you felt the nubs getting harder. The fabric rubbed them a little more every time you breathed, lungs expanding. Bitterness overcame you as pleasure turned to shame turned to helplessness. You could only stand there, both hands reaching down to hide your privates, all while you heard the man in front of you chuckle.

"Glad to amuse you," you muttered bitterly, biting your lip so hard it tore beneath your teeth. Wearing an outfit that split right around your pussy, giving even easier access than it gave a full view of it, was proof of how you couldn't win against him. If he wanted to, he could be sneaky and uncaring about what you wanted, and forcing you to wear this was yet another challenge he was winning to hold above your head. Sylus had long begun to chip away at any pride or dignity you had, finally ready to deliver the final blow. But although you wanted to break down and cry, hide from the embarrassment, your feeble fighting spirit refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down and beg for your clothes back.

You'd be giving him exactly what he wanted—power.

Power over you. The upper hand in this month-long dispute. You had sought him out for a deal, an equal exchange. And he had broken that deal the moment you put your trust in him just so he could keep you for whatever twisted reason. People had warned you of deals with the devil, but you had been too stupid to listen, now finding yourself in a situation too horrifying to speak of. Captivity.

It wasn't like he made you work to earn your keep. There were three meals provided to you every day, and Sylus tried to join whenever he could. He bought you expensive clothes, accessories, and entertainment, always asking what you needed, but never reflecting on his actions, not even when you told him he couldn't buy your love. There was constant surveillance, and the outside was a threat to your life, so the windows and doors stayed locked tightly. You had no means to escape, only able to stay indoors and wait like a good pet.

"But you are the bad guy here, forcing me to wear this."

Your addition seemed to make him thoughtful, a small hum escaping Sylus before he extended his arm towards you. It was a bad idea, you knew that. But if you refused to take his hand, he'd simply come to get you, and you couldn't afford to struggle looking like this.

Embarrassed, you forced one hand away from hiding what should have never been exposed in front of the likes of the leader of Onychinus, someone you thought would be interested in what you had to offer in exchange for the help you needed. Now, it almost seemed like all he wanted was your body, although you doubted it. You never liked seeing yourself in the mirror, but you didn't know anyone who enjoyed seeing themselves. You just thought it was normal not to feel like you were special, and yet, Sylus made you wear something that hid nothing of your insecurities from him.

A shuddering breath escaped you as his fingers wrapped around your hand like a snake suffocating its victim. But he moved on quickly from the threatening touch, twisting and turning his palm until it slithered beneath yours, fingers entwining before he gave you a jerk, forcing you towards him.

You couldn't help but wonder what changed in that one month, although you were lying if you said you didn't see the change in your captor. You thought he was out for ransom at first, keeping you just for the sake of exploiting more out of you than what you were willing to give. Then you caught him watching you, eyes almost softening as he observed. He'd done more than enough touching and manhandling over the course of the month, but he never forced you to wear lingerie and expose yourself.

Admittedly, your fall wasn't graceful as you were pulled forth. Your legs staggered over the sudden jerk, your free hand coming down just behind Sylus's shoulder. One of your legs hit the edge of the couch, knee bending with nowhere else to go until your shin was settled next to his thigh. You sacked forward, the strength in your torso handicapped from the awkward position, but it was better this way. Anything was better than to look into his face.

"The bad guy, eh? So far, I've been pretty nice to you. I have no idea what you mean."

Sylus played with the skimpy fabric around your waist, rubbing the material between his fingers as if to gouge its value. He was tugging at the strings, threatening to undo the triple knots you had made to keep it all together. All while you were shivering from the cold and the hatred he invoked inside of you.  

Anger flooded your mind, and you threw your head back, ready to let him have it! Too late did you realize he baited you, forcing you to look at him despite your refusal, the grin on his lips disgustingly victorious, his expression almost besotted now that you met his eyes. There was strength to be drawn from your embarrassment, fury brewing in the pit of your stomach. Your free hand curled into a fist, and you fixated your gaze on his stupid face, ready to bash in that smirk he loved to give you so much!

"Not quick enough," Sylus lamented as he caught your fist in his hand, closing around it in a painful grip. You winced, and he brought your arm down, twisting it behind your back while squeezing the other hand he hadn't given up on holding. "Now, now, let's play nice. And here I thought you liked my gift."

Slinging his whole arm around your midriff, Sylus suddenly pulled you on top of his lap, your legs losing balance, and forced your hips down to settle on top of the bulge in his pants. The second your crotch met his, you felt nauseous, the helplessness making you desperate to get away. You hated every second of this interaction, hated this man for all the abuse he put you through. Was this what he had wanted all along? A sex toy? Why wait this long if he intended to defile you anyway?

Even though you tried to be still as a board, when Sylus bent you backward, closely following behind, you shivered as his hot breath grazed over your nipple. You stared down in horror as his tongue slid out, only the tip of it flicking over your nipple before he watched the nub bounce back into place and, using the flat side of his tongue, pressed down onto it. You shuddered, biting your lip again to hold back a moan.

The room wasn't cold, but his breath felt incredibly hot through the mesh fabric of the coverings, his tongue almost like a hot iron pressed to your skin. Sylus looked up, and you saw the agonizing sight of yourself in the reflection of the red irises, exposed and vulnerable. He smirked, opening his mouth just far enough to take your nub between his teeth, pulling it towards him as you sucked in your breath.

You couldn't help it. Couldn't help the pleasure zapping down your spine and between your legs, the mewl that escaped you as Sylus's teeth slipped off your nipple and bit into the mesh fabric. Your reflection looked so pathetic, but he seemed pleased as he kissed your abused nub, as if to appease it after his teasing.

"I heard something interesting," he muttered against your chest, trailing kisses from one side to the other, briefly burying his face in your body and letting out a content rumble. "Heard you've been wholly neglected, poor thing."

"What do you--"

Giving the hand behind your back a firm shake, warning it to stay in place, Sylus released it, only to drive his hand down to your ass. He slipped lower as you piped up, only to silence you again with his touch. It made you realize fairly quickly what he meant, his fingers curiously slipping through your slick.

"That's not true at all," you argued, closing your eyes and shying away from his keen gaze.

"Really now?"

Feeling his lips curl into a grin above your other nipple was an unfamiliar torture, the fabric of the cover transferring every movement dutifully, heightening your sensitivity. "So the reason you are so wet is because you are experienced. Is that what you're saying? You're not a virgin whose anticipation is making you eager, Kitten? Did you secretively hope I'd help you release some of the tension?"

You felt his fingers apply pressure to your cunt, threatening to slip inside and forcing you to shoot upwards, recoiling from the touch. The throb of his cock beneath your slit vanished, and you cursed your body for aching, almost longing to return to his lap. But how could you? At this rate, he was truly going to take your virginity from you, even though you tried to act as if he wasn't.

It was such a stupid sentiment to cling to the concept of virginity, especially in the situation you were in. There could be potential gain by losing it, yet you were holding on to it like a lifeline. Considering that, in one month, you had lost all kinds of things that made your life yours, it was understandable that crossing this line scared you. It was a small rebellion that would prove you weren't completely lost to this man's whims if only you could keep it.

"No! No, wait!" you huffed as his hold on you tightened, trying to keep you in place so he could continue evading every little piece of privacy you still had. If only for your sanity, you had to at least try to conserve it. You weren't keeping yourself for marriage necessarily, but having your first time with the man that kidnapped and imprisoned you would definitely do you no good.

"I'm... I'm unwell! I'll do something else for you, but not this. Let's not go there... Sir."

Halting all his movements, Sylus's brows furrowed, and he leaned back, looking up at you. Of course, you didn't miss how he tensed when you called him Sir, but even though it cost you a lot of your pride to call him that, it was the most you got for a reaction. You could only assume he could see the fake, nonchalant expression you forced, perhaps your embarrassment too. But you hoped it would deter him. When you looked back at him, he almost seemed... concerned. Hopefully, that would be in your favor.

"Are you sick?" he asked, both accusatory and worried at the same time. As if he was offended, you didn't tell him.

"No, I'm... Actually yeah! I feel sick! I got cramps, and I'm sure my period is just around the corner--"

"Darling," he interrupted you, and your heart rate quicked at the sly grin playing around his lips. "You're so adorable when you try to lie, but I'll have you know that a bit of blood has never stopped me.

Tell me the truth, or I'll assume you're just nervous."

Fuck, you thought to yourself, chewing your stinging lip again as you thought about what to do. Sylus returned back to your chest, pressing his lips to your unattended nipple again before sucking it in for a tease. You drew in your breath sharply as you thought about a lesser evil to deter him from taking your last strand of dignity, the one thing you could hold over his head. But it would cost you greatly to protect your virginity, and you almost wavered in your determination to keep it a secret.

"I'll... I'll suck you off."

Sylus stilled, and you saw his eyes widening. For a moment, no one said anything, and although it was hard to endure his inquiring gaze, you forced yourself to face it head-on, showing him you meant it. One of his eyes felt especially exposing, the red so much more vibrant. But just a moment later, his lips curled into a wide smirk, freeing your nipple as he drew back.

His expression was almost soft as he gazed over your body, all the way down to where your hips met. You saw the longing in his gaze and felt the throbbing of his cock against your pussy, but then he looked up at you again, and for a moment, you felt adoration wash over you. Approval, genuine desire.

And it was gone right the next second.

Before you knew it, Sylus lifted you off his lap. You yelped in surprise, only to sink to your knees, his legs spread widely to comfortably accommodate you between them. "Alright then," Sylus chuckled. "Show me what you got."

Another wave of shameful heat rushed into your head as you watched the cocky bastard wait for you to stick to your words. Excitement and impatience radiated from the way he looked down at you to the tapping of his food next to your thigh. He'd not wait forever for you to act, but he was enjoying your hesitation.

Swallowing hard, your mouth had never felt as dry as it was now. With jittery hands, you reached upwards, seeing the stains you had left on his trousers and feeling the heat underneath your palms. But before you could unzip Sylus's pants, he caught your wrists in his grip, clicking his tongue at you, chastizing.

"I'm sure you know a more creative way to start this."

You were disgusted by the thought, but even a virgin like you could imagine what he wanted. Lifting your butt off the floor, you placed your teeth around the zipper, slowly dragging it down. Sylus chuckled, but to your surprise, when you looked up at him angrily, he let go of your wrists and looked away, hiding his full face from you. Was he ashamed? Mocking you? Or did he enjoy seeing you opening his trousers with your teeth that much?

You used the moment of freedom for your hands to unbutton the pants on top, completely taken aback when without the restraints of underwear, his cock sprung free, surprise and horror overcoming you. "You're not the only one who was anticipating this," Sylus clarified, and although he still hid his face behind his hand, the gleam in his eye was as mischievous as ever.

Bastard, you thought, but a small part of you wondered if he had been walking around in just his pants all day or if he changed out of his underwear before meeting with you. It was a completely scientific question of course! You needed to know how long he anticipated and planned this. If his sudden carnal desire had been a surprise or a long time coming, although you never thought it existed.

"Are you giving up already, Sweetheart?" Sylus tore you out of your thoughts. "Less scowling, more sucking."

For the record, you didn't do as he instructed because he told you to. You did it because you wanted to get it over with. You kept telling yourself this, over and over, even as you brushed your fingertips over his length. But there was one problem. One you couldn't tell him about.

You had no idea what to do.

Of course, the general concept of a blowjob was familiar to even you, but how were you going to pull it off? Was it enough to take it into your mouth? Did you need to kiss it? Would it taste bad? Could you even put your lips around it?

There was no time to panic and let Sylus find out you were an inexperienced virgin with no idea what you were doing. His cock bopped impatiently in front of you, waiting for your caress, and you had to please it regardless of not knowing how.

Reaching up, you wrapped a hand around it, steadying it with your grip. The stiff feeling surrounded by soft skin was almost mesmerizing, leaving you in a moment of awe before you returned to reality. You expected something rougher, more like its owner, but the heat and eagerness spoke of vulnerability more than Sylus's usual domineering ways.

There was a click of his tongue from above, and you knew your time was running out. Giving him a coy glance from below, you leaned forward, steading yourself on Sylus's thighs to kiss the throbbing cock in your hand. You felt his leg tense beneath your palm, then relax, and when he neither mocked nor pushed you away, you concluded you were onto something.

Kissing a trail up the shaft, you smoothed over his cock, taking note of the ridges and veins that seemed to pop out the longer you were giving it attention. Soon, you reached the edge of the tip, the form of his shaft dipping into itself for a moment before forming the bulb on top. It was so fascinating that, for a moment, you forgot the situation you were in, your tongue dipping out to lick along the edge out of curiosity.

Sylus drew in a sharp breath, and you looked up with more inquisitiveness. For the first time, you saw an expression akin to pain on his face. You wondered if you were hurting him somehow before satisfaction hit you. Red was drawn along his cheeks, and you realized it was pleasure and not pain; the firmness of his expression was merely showcasing that he was holding back. How gracious.

Slipping the flat of your tongue over his tip, you soon brushed your lips over it. Cock jerking, the tender flesh jumped against your mouth, smearing a strange-tasting liquid all over it. Precum, you thought to yourself, recognizing that this meant you were doing something right.

It almost got you excited.

You remembered the way Sylus had played with your nipples, the teasing and sucking. The way he forced you to feel pleasure despite not wanting to, and it gave you an idea of how to return the favor. If it worked on you, it might just work on him the same way! Sure, he wanted this, but you'd not make it easy on him!

Wrapping your mouth around the tip, you began to suck gently, drawing your lips lightly back and forth and wetting the top to make it more smooth. Sylus groaned, his right hand coming down to cup yours on top of his thigh, pressing it into the muscles there.

"That's it, Kitten," he mumbled, and you felt his hand brush up your neck and into your hair. Immediately, you drew back, staring at him with your mouth forced shut. His cock bopped in complaint, and Sylus's expression hardened, but you challenged him with your glare.

"No forcing it," you established, getting great satisfaction from his annoyance. "You will let me do it."

"Fine," he spat out. "Hope you got a bit more than that, though. Otherwise, we'll be here forever, Sweetheart."

"Fuck you," you bit back, not waiting for him to respond before putting your lips back around his cock. This time, you went deeper, his tip brushing your teeth as you weren't used to his size yet. His hand sunk back to the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands of hair there. You could feel him testing out the boundaries of your rules, applying pressure softly ever so often. Still, after you drew back one more time, he gave up, the warmth of his palm remaining unmoving at the back of your head.

"No fun," he complained, but his words had no bite. They were followed by a soft groan, Sylus's head rolling to the side as he watched you work your way down his shaft. It was more strain than you expected, his cock seemingly never-ending, even when you forced it deeper than anything ever before. You'd not accept defeat, not let him win this round, especially after coming this far!

But it was nasty. Drool dripped down your chin, and your sucking became more and more sloppy. You barely had enough strength or training with your tongue to keep up an even pace, and your desperation to get this over with made everything quite boring, evident by Sylus not reacting like you thought he would while you worked your mouth over his cock.

"Is this your first time?" he finally asked, and you grimaced, mouth full of cock and exposed anger burning in your eyes.

Sylus smirked, and you knew that he knew.

"Did you really think you could hide the fact from me that you have no idea what you're doing? Come let me help."

Without waiting for your response, he pressed your head forward, tears shooting to your eyes as the newly reached deepness pried your jaw open. "Now, use your tongue and lick upwards all the way. Slowly."

You hated this! You hated him! You hated this man so much!

"That's it, Kitten."

Pulling you back by the roots of your hair, the strain disappeared, but all the drool and fluids pooled inside your mouth, making you cough. Sylus showed you no mercy, even after seeing you struggle to keep yourself together.

"Now the tip again, just like the beginning. You need to alternate sometimes."

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth again, willing the pain away as you began to suck and lick at his tip. The next time Sylus pushed you forward, you braced yourself, although he didn't go as deep, instead bopping your head back and forth. As much as you hated following his instructions, you did the same with your tongue as when he forced you to take it in completely, moving the muscle along the sides while Sylus directed your head.

This time, he let out a loud, content sigh, his head falling back. His pressure never stopped, though, sometimes slamming you forward to dangerous depths again, other times letting you rest at his tip. There was a steady increase in speed, and you felt the control slip from you pitifully as he worked you up and down his shaft as he pleased. Were you just a sex toy to him? That's what you wondered as the first tears fell, your reflection so pitiful in Sylus's eyes.

Although, he seemed ecstatic for some reason.

His nails dug into your hand still on his thigh as he pushed you steadily deeper with every thrust of his head. Soon, you felt the tickle of the fabric of his pants against your nose, his cock taking up all the space in your mouth as it throbbed. You, too, dug your nails into his thigh as you heard Sylus breathe heavily, knowing all too well what was going to happen now.

You couldn't believe he'd be so barbaric, knowing it was your first time, as to force you to take all of his dick inside as he came. But with a slight thrust of his hip and his hand pressing down at the same time, you were caught with his cock throat-deep as hot splurts of semen sprayed everywhere. Sylus grunted as he came, and you couldn't help but splutter, gagging on the length shoved down your throat, and almost fainted from the lack of air as he waited until the very last drop of his cum to be emptied inside of you.

If not for his cock stuffing your mouth, you might have thrown up from disgust.

He was breathing heavily while your lungs barely shuddered. As if he regained clarity, Sylus suddenly pulled you off him, and his cum spilled from your lips together with his cock. Tears, semen, and drool all dripped from your pitiful face, and you two stared at each other, both a little less lucid than before.

The hand at the back of your neck slipped forward, thumb grazing over the side of your mouth before he slipped it inside. A grin spread over his lips; this time, he looked nothing short of insane from the satisfaction as he pushed the fluids back into your mouth, seeing the remnants of the havoc he wrecked. But then his expression grew soft, and you hated to admit it, but this was probably the gentlest look he had ever given you.

"Good job, Darling."

You choked as you held back a sob. The situation was so maddening it was almost funny. Just seconds ago, it felt like he'd kill you with his dick, and now he was praising you, looking at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this world.

But you didn't have the time to lament. Not even a moment later, you were pulled from the ground, set down pussy to cock on his lap, feeling the sticky heat from his crotch matching your own. You hadn't even noticed your own arousal, the way your body found appropriate to act. It only shamed you more.

"You were so pretty down there, doing amazing, Darling."

Next thing you knew, he had toppled you over and laid you down on the couch beside him while your eyes widened. You snapped your legs shut immediately, although his hands roaming downwards snaked their way between them. Looking at you, unblinking, a victorious smile played along Sylus's lips before he effortlessly pried your legs apart, not even breaking a sweat.

"We said only sucking off!" you mewled, part scared, part frustrated. What else did you need to do to make him stop? Why was he doing all of this? Why did it have to be you?

Resting his lips on your thigh, Sylus kissed it briefly, eyes closed, appearing almost reverent as he peppered some more kisses.

"You said that," he finally muttered against your skin, and all the hope to make him see reason in the end was lost with just a few words. "I am going to return the favor now. Can't let anyone think I'd not take good care of my Darling."

"You are so mean," you whispered, tears now falling freely. You didn't care anymore if he saw them. If they could soften his heart—good! If not, it didn't matter anymore. He was going to do what he wanted anyway; there was nothing you could do but to let him.

"Sure, I can be mean," Sylus chuckled, but his expression darkened. It was unlike his usual cockiness, and it infuriated you. How dare he feel upset about your comment! How dare he wallow in your misery! Your pain wasn't his to share! He didn't get to feel bad from seeing you hurt by the actions he inflicted!

So why did he look like you were the one hurting him?

"After all..." he mumbled, leaning forward until his face hovered over yours. For a moment, he simply stared at you, and you wondered what he could find in your terrified gaze. How far he could really look into your soul and if that would deter him or if he'd still choose to ignore your feelings in all of this like he had ever since he locked you up.

"You made me the bad guy, Darling."

[luifaro]

floweypot genuinely angers me. yes, mock the boy who's already stuck in a form he hates by humiliating him daily, trapping him in a pot like he's just a houseplant. laugh at the traumatized boy as he desperately tries to escape his prison. as he desperately tries not to be a victim again. laugh at his suffering. make sure he knows he'll never be one of you and that you were only luring him onto the surface so you can mock and bully every day. make sure he feels alone and hated by everyone around him. aren't you such a cute and good person frisk?

So, I have some important Flowey thoughts that I want to share. 🌻

Flowey never intended for any deaths he caused to be permanent.

As soon as he started believing that he was living in a game and could just Reset if he made a mistake or didn't like something, he started to play with people's lives because nothing mattered to him anymore and he, I quote, "was bored".

I'm not excusing his murderous and soulless behavior, I'm fully aware that he's completely messed up in the head and needs intense therapy.

Also, I have a theory that he kills only to go back and Reset and bring his victims back to life is probably some how therapeutic for him because he has the power to return life.

...Something that he was never able to do for Chara, I'm certain that he may even tried to somehow hack his power to try to bring Chara back to life.

Again, I'm not excusing his behavior, but if you had been traumatized as child and then thrust into a strange body and no longer felt anymore compassion and had the power to control time...

Wouldn't you eventually do some screwed up shit too if you knew you that it wouldn't make you feel guilty and make everyone forget your crime by rewinding time?

Now lets talk about the monsters who do not have Flowey's power.

Specifically the one's who are trying to actively trying to permanently kill Frisk for their soul.

They are desperate to break the barrier to be free, so much so that they are willing to kill a child for it to help their beloved King.

It's no wonder why Flowey believes 'It's kill or be killed' at the beginning of the game, he was a child when humans attacked and fatally killed him, and then the next thing he knows, his kind peaceful father has now called on all the other monsters in the Underground to attack and kill humans to take their souls just so he would have the ability to take revenge.

Asriel/Flowey believes that everyone has an evil side and killing is the answer because that was what he was traumatized into believing.

He also believes that killing and being evil will protect him from being harmed like he was when he was kind and gentle.

He genuinely believes that kindness is weakness because that's what got him killed in the first place.

And in the Pacifist route, thanks to Frisk (and Chara) he unlearns so many terrible beliefs and realizes that literally not everyone is as horrible as he thought.

He then dawns a new way of living (my favorite quote from the game) Don't Kill and Don't Be Killed.

[shouts-into-the-void]

Just read screenshots of the Aaron extra chapter and I have so many thoughts, so here they are:

It's always so funny to me to be reminded of the fact that the animosity between Aaron and Neil is mostly one-sided. Like, Neil finds Aaron frustrating, but all the antagonistic stuff he does to him is ultimately in service of helping him in some way and while he's angry when Aaron provokes him, he otherwise regards him with disinterest and even expresses the desire to see what he's like when he's relaxed and enjoying himself during the party with the Vixens. Meanwhile Aaron just really hates that man.

I really appreciated Nora using this chapter to clear up some of the gripes a lot of the fandom has had with Aaron's character in the past and confirm that Aaron's comments to Nicky have to do with his cousin making graphic and unwanted sexual advances on their teammates, and his accusations towards Neil were from a place of concern for his brother. I also liked that it was pointed out that of course he would have at least some internalized homophobia due to being raised by religious zealots in a conservative area, but is unlearning it due to Nicky.

On a similar note, I'm glad that we were provided the context that Nicky's inappropriate behavior is a defense mechanism to weed out people who might hurt him rather than legitimate advances, because I think the fandom tends to forget that he is also a character with extreme trauma written outside of the "perfect victim" stereotype. His actions aren't okay, but the entire point is that they are the result of what he's had to endure just like every other member of the team

The implication that Andrew specifically signed with the Foxes so Aaron could go to college

Aaron and Andrew have the same nervous habit of picking at loose thread

It causes me physical pain to see Andrew clearly trying to open up to Aaron about his self-harm, but because his way of communicating is less straightforward (he doesn't lie, but he because he stuggles to confront and be open with his emotions, he presents the truth in flowery, vague language) and because the two dont really know or understand each other, Aaron can't fully grasp the implications of what he's saying

On the subject of things that cause me physical pain: baby Aaron telling his mom that he wanted to be a neurosurgeon like the people on TV and her laughing and saying he'd never make anything of himself. Fuck Tilda Minyard, all my homies hate Tilda.

Andrew is so uncomfortable, someone Get Him Out of There.

Going off that and his nervous habits (that Aaron mentions he did often enough to be noticable as a habit premedication), I am highkey wondering if the reason Sober Andrew doesn't talk to anyone outside Neil is because he's just. Socially Awkward.

We get a little bit of insight into Andrew's "misogyny" (I personally think distrusting certain people as a result of extreme personal trauma is a little bit different than just being sexist, in the same way women distrusting men because they're used to being harassed and belittled isn't misandry, but that's up to your personal opinion) and that his distain for Katelyn comes from the fact that he thinks she's stringing Aaron along and will turn out to be awful like his previous girlfriends (there's also a notable implication that Aaron has the same self-destructive tendencies as Andrew, and may be why he went out of his way to get him into college and on the straight-and-narrow) also see that this extends to Bee as well despite their close relationship, with him being so afraid that she'd reject him for being gay that he can't even look at her while talking about Neil, probably made worse by the fact that she's a maternal figure for him, which is where this trauma response originates.

Aaron is the only person on the team who's aware that Andrew hasn't slept with Neil, and the only one to grasp the significance of the fact that they've gotten close to that point already despite Andrew's trauma, outside of Renee

It was overall really interesting to see inside Aaron's head (I actually wouldn't mind a book from his perspective, he has a similar way of thinking to Neil but much more grounded) and to see Andrew through the lense of someone who just views him as Just A Guy

[mentos-or-mentoes]

Hihi Pooks, I love your writing and was wondering if you would write for a Mitsuri!reader, like a reader who looks quite weak (IS FEMALE as mitsuri is a female) but is INSANELY strong and quite flexible (which breaks the stereotype of ‘women aren’t strong’). (Helluva boss x Mitsuri!reader) reader who can eat LOADS while staying fit bc yk she’s strong and exercises regularly but could definitely rival a sin with her strength and probably could do some magic with the ‘power of love’ typa shit

yes I mean Mitsuri from demon slayer.

Sorry it took me so long to do this! I had to move, then completely forgot I had a tumblr blog. And now after somewhat of a midlife crisis I have just realized that I infact DO have a tumblr blog. So ye, I apologise for keeping you waiting for so long

I.M.P & Stolas x Mitsuri!reader

Blitzo

First of all, this dude thinks your strength is HOT (take that however you want).

He thinks you're kind, yet knows that if you really wanted to, you could probably beat Lucifer himself in a fight.

Blitzo definetly can, will and has fucked around with your whip-like nichirin sword, but will stop the second you tell him to, well if its serious, if not then he'll keep goofing around untill he manages to destroy something.

He once walked in on you eating what can only be described as a 3 course meal that would be served at a thanksgiving dinner. He is both surprised, and horrified once he finds out that it is the normal amount of food for you because of your extremem muscle density.

Once tried to challenge you to an arm wrestle match just to see how he could compare, and that day he found out that you had an absolutely insane physical strength after winning with just your pinky finger. He will do everything to hide that fact

He has definetly said some stupid threat like ''My grilfriend will beat *hiccup* your ass if I *hiccup* don't'' to someone in a bar while drunk

Moxxie

Being the most realistic out of all of the employees at I.M.P, Moxxie is outright terrified of your strength.

He can and will try to keep you happy, already wanting to hide in fear at just the thought of you having a bad day.

No matter how much you re-assure him, its gonna take a while before he actually begins to think you wont kill someone whenever you feel angry.

He thinks its both impressive and weird how that you can eat so much food without even gaining as much as a miligram. He won't comment on that tho.

He is very curious as to how your weapon works. Y'know since its metal, yet can be used as a whip.

Millie

She thinks your weapon is incredibly cool, and encourages you to use it more often.

She's asked you about how well you think you'd do with other weapons as well.

Either way will still love you, regardless of your choice of weapon <3

You two are a power couple and you can't convince me otherwise (two strong women who can and will kick the ass of anyone who disrespects them in any way, shape or form).

She loves your power of love magic, especially because part of her thinks it becomes stronger with the love you two have for eachother

Loona

This legit feels like the fandom classic of shipping the two characters who are the exact opposite.

She secretly really loves your whole power of love thing, even if she says otherwise.

Has probably jokingly asked you to punch Blitzo one time because he really annoyed her.

She will blush MADLY if you decide to pick her up and just carry her around, but if its in private, she won't complain.

She loves seeing you use your strength in combat.

Stolas

Like Moxxie, Stolas is scared as fuck.

He can and will do EVERYTHING to avoid you when you're angry.

You can convince him, that you're not going to hurt him. But the last thing Stolas is trying to do is becoming bbq chicken because he decided to approach you while you were angry, so no risks

He likes how strong you are, makes him feel safe. Mostly because you'll kick the ass of anyone who dares try to hurt him.

He was surprised when your power of love wasn't some sort of magic to make others fall in love, but is quite literally love turned into raw power.

This 100% isn't worth the wait, sorry it took me so long. But hope it was, somewhat decent, am willing to do a part 2 tho

[midnightechoes]

Five years ago today, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power premiered on Netflix. I had seen a few preview articles about it, and liked what I saw. Those articles mostly focused on She-Ra’s, Adora’s, Glimmer’s, Bow’s, and Catra’s redesigns, and I thought they were fabulous. I loved Adora’s new red jacket and bouffant hair style. Glimmer’s entire redesign was inspired, and I loved that they made Bow black so we could have more diversity in the main cast.

It was She-Ra’s and Catra’s redesigns that caught my eyes the most, though. They made Catra an actual catgirl, and not just in the anime sense where she's just a cute girl with cat ears and maybe a cat tail. She was a full-on furry. It was a brilliant design choice. Honestly it’s no wonder that so many were instantly drawn to her.

And of course, She-Ra herself. I loved her new look, and her huge ass new Sword of Protection. In fact, I loved it so much that I drew this picture of her before the show even came out:

Then the show came out, and needless to say, I fell in love. And honestly, it changed my life.

I know, I know. That sounds very hyperbolic, and to an extent it is, but in a lot of ways, I’m absolutely serious.

Alright, I have to back up a little. Back when I was in college, and for a few years after, a couple of friends and I tried to make a webcomic called The Devil’s Gate. It was minorly successful but eventually floundered. Then I met some people and we tried to make a video game, which also failed. After those few years, I found myself on my own and trying to rework the concept of my webcomic. Making comics, creating stories, those have always been my dream, and I was desperately trying to figure out a story I could make work, something that I believed in. But it never truly got off the ground. By the end of 2015 I had given up on the comic, realizing that after working on it for years in different forms that I needed to step away from it.

I didn’t really know what to do after that. I was still doing my quick daily doodles, but I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t drawing anything of note. I felt emotionally and physically drained of my creativity. I was honestly getting to the point where I thought it might be time for me to give up on trying to be creative or making things all together.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power came out on November 13, 2018, but despite looking forward to it, I didn’t actually watch it when it came out. It wasn’t until that weekend that I decided to check it out.

I was instantly hooked. I binged through the entire season in two days, and did plenty of crying and cheering. And then rewatched it immediately. I was in love. I was obsessed. It had been a long time since anything grabbed me like SPOP did. I loved the characters. I loved the colorful, sci-fi-fairy tale world of Etheria. I loved how unapologetically feminine it was. And most of all, I loved how queer it was.

I hadn’t done a ton of shipping before SPOP. I’ve been down bad for harlivy for what feels like my whole life, and I was angry when Mika and HG didn’t get together in Warehouse 13, but more often than not I had just been conditioned not to look for queer things in mainstream culture, and even barely in subculture.

That is to say, when I was smashed in the face with Catradora I was surprised how much I glommed onto it immediately. I was absolutely taken with Adora and Catra and their relationship. Both characters were so relatable, and despite not quite being text (although the subtext was so loud and obvious it might as well have been text), it was impossible to not read their feelings for each other as romantic.

It wasn’t just Catradora, even if that was a lot of it. Spinnerella and Netossa being canon from the start was wonderful. How much Glimmer and Bow screamed “BISEXUAL DISASTERS” from the start was adorable. Scorpia’s crush on Catra was as cute as it was sad in its one-sidedness.

I had never really been in a fandom. That is, yeah I’ve liked things, loved things even, but I never found other people to talk about it at length, never found discords just for that thing, never read or wrote fanfic, barely ever drew fanart. 

But, I watched SPOP, and then I watched it again. And then I drew Catra. And then I drew Adora. And then I drew them again. And suddenly I was on AO3, a site I never frequented, reading Catradora fics. And then I had an AO3 account. That December I participated in Catradora Week 2018 (I’d never heard of this kind of thing) and drew two pictures for it and wrote my first fanfic.

By the end of February I had drawn more in the three months since the show had premiered than I had in the previous year. I was working furiously on a long, multi-chapter fanfic, and writing more words than I had in the previous couple of years combined.

I was inspired again.

In the 18 months that SPOP ran for, I drew more than I had in years, I wrote hundreds of thousands of words. I felt so rejuvenated and happy about my creativity and free for the first time in years.

It’s hard to put into words exactly how it felt. I was so close to giving up my art and writing, which honestly, would have been giving up a part of myself. An important part of myself. It’s not overstating that SPOP saved me, or at least my creative spirit.

I also learned about the wonders of being in a fandom and fandom things like fan weeks, big bangs, zines. And I made some wonderful friends that I cherish to this day.

Even as I inevitably moved onto other hyperfixations, my love for She-Ra hasn’t diminished. Plushie Catra and Adora sit next to me on my desk every day. Catradora art still hangs on my wall.

The inspiration that SPOP ignited in me hasn’t died either. It’s carried me through a tremendous level of creativity that I’ve been riding since the premiere. It let me create a ton of fan art for SPOP, and then RWBY and then the Witch From Mercury, and I’ve written a ton of fanfics for RWBY and Supergirl. And perhaps the best, that inspiration has helped me create more OC stuff in the last couple years than I had in a long time.

I owe She-Ra and The Princesses of Power so much. I am so happy that it exists and that it happened when it did. I’ll always cherish it.

And for real, Netflix, SPOP spin-off movies WHEN?!

[thatbloodycountess]

I know it’s been six years, and the fandom is mostly dead, but I’ve been thinking about FFXV lately. The story was great and I loved the characters, but there were holes in the plot and with character development. I get that the developers had an idea story-wise and made significant changes once Tabata took over. Even after six years, I can still see what was left on the table and I have some ideas on how to remedy these issues.

I loved the beginning where the Regalia broke down. But, the game could’ve started a day or two before the boys left Insomnia. We could’ve had some time with Regis and Clarus and get an idea how them and the boys felt about the journey.

They could’ve added the events from Kingsglaive to the game itself. I’m sure not everyone saw the movie and it would’ve been awesome to play as Nyx. This would’ve lengthened the first chapter too.

The DLCs could’ve been weaved into the main game. The Trails of Cold Steel series did a good job of diverging storylines. Events in these storylines were happening simultaneously and added impact to those plot points. It would’ve been easy to switch to Gladio once Noctis found the mythril, considering both events were happening at the same time.

The same goes for Episodes Ignis and Prompto. Ignis’ DLC could pick up immediately during the chaos in Altissia. The latter could’ve been placed after Prompto fell off the train and ended when he was captured by Ardyn. Or if his memories were being manipulated, when the player sees him strung up on that contraption in Gralea.

SE missed an opportunity to continue the story during the ten years of darkness. That chapter could’ve opened with the beginning of Ardyn’s story and spaced it out a bit until the DLC’s conclusion. Luna and Aranea’s DLCs could kick in here too, considering both would’ve fleshed the story out more. Then bring in Episode Noctis and perhaps have a FFVII lifestream moment as he obtains the knowledge of the Lucian kings.

I’ve read that the ending in Dawn of the Future isn’t canon. It’s an alternative ending like Ignis being healed by the crystal in his DLC. However, it could’ve been just as impactful as the canon ending. Since it makes Bahamut the villain and uses the trope that humans can become stronger than gods. It’s a similar situation Yuna faced in FFX, but she got to challenge her fate. Noctis didn’t.

The chapters were too short for my liking and there should’ve been more foreshadowing about Prompto’s origins other than Aranea’s comment outside of Steyliff Grove. Noctis didn’t find out that he has to sacrifice himself until he was absorbed into the crystal. He accepted his fate too easily. There was no point where he became angry over it or wonder if Regis or Luna knew what his fate would be. Again, he didn’t get the chance to tell Bahamut to go fuck himself.

The game is one of my favorites in the series and always will be. But there were so many missed opportunities and it makes me wonder what could’ve been.

[olderthannetfic]

I don't get my fandom. They want more queer rep. The main cast is a bisexual femme woman with a preference for women, an aroace gender-indifferent AMAB man, a genderfluid all-pronouns using AMAB person with a beard who wears a dress, and a biromantic asexual bigender AMAB man who is agender + male. The supporting cast has a lesbian girl, a middle-aged ace het woman living semi-romantically with another woman who is the main cast's (emotional) adoptive mom, and a ambiguously queer character whose gender is never really confirmed or discussed.

A big criticism I also see is "the writing team is all cishet". One, we don't know that, someone could be closeted. Two, why is that a problem? I think it's great that they went, "this makes sense for who this character is. We don't have to force them to be cishetallo just because that's what you normally see in animation. Web animation can be different. This is who this person is and that's fine."

I'm 19. I talked to my half brother, who is 38, about this and he actually choked on his coffee. He said when he was my age, nothing like this was easily accessible for him. It would have been jaw-dropping representation for him. I asked about the writers being cishetallo and he said, "who fucking cares? I would've moved Heaven and Earth to see these characters hanging out and just fucking existing back then!"

I know you get a metric fuckton of asks, but I'd love to hear your take on this. You've been in the queer community way longer than I have (I've barely started interacting with queer people IRL; I grew up in rural Wyoming) and I do wonder what this debacle looks like to people in other age groups. I'd also be curious to know what older people would've thought if they'd seen this friend group in media when they were younger. I know it means a lot to me. But I feel like I don't get what it would have meant back then.

--

Well, written up like this, it might get an eye-roll for sounding like Captain Planet casting. (You know "One of A and one of B and one of C" in a way that feels kind of forced.)

But yes, I think most older queer people when looking at the actual canon would be like "Sweet! A cast full of queer characters!"

I grew up somewhere shockingly liberal for the 90s next door to some old, married lesbians (who still live there, as it happens). It still sucked for teenagers. I had an okay time, but I was always hearing about other teens having an awful time even as the adults in the same communities did okay. And that's a very, very good version of what it was like in the 90s.

I did have access to queer media, vastly more access than most teens had. It was still mostly art films, boring coming out memoir, and The Pain of Being a Minority serious literature. What I wanted was genre fiction with a romance b-plot between queer characters I found hot. There was a bit of that, but not much.

I don't know that I personally would have killed for the exact set of queer rep in a modern show, but that makes sense. There are plenty of identities that present about the same but where people have internal reasons for choosing one or another. There are different forces making one queer identity or another more embattled at a given point in time. So while broadly similar queer people have always existed, there actually are fads in identity to an extent. (This is different from "wharrgarbl, the blue hairs with their pronouns!!!", which is just people being ahistorical assholes.) Modern media does and should reflect these differences. It might be for me, but it's going to be for 40-something me, not teenage me if it's coming out right now. If it's for current teens, it's not for teen me.

But yeah, in a general sense, I agree with your brother: "Damn, we have so much today! That's cool!"

The kvetching is usually people being angry that it's not representing their exact slice of queerness instead of someone else's. Or, let's be honest, a lot of it is "You didn't make my ship happen! How dare?!" dressed up as activism.

...

One thing I will say is that teenagers were extremely dramatic in my day too, and black-and-white thinking was just as common. Looking a gift horse in the mouth is not new. Yes, your fandom is full of idiots, but I wouldn't read too much into it.

[anniflamma]

I'm so sorry for all the sh*t you had to deal, not only yesterday but with your own art.

I hope you're doing okay and taking care you yourself, I know how much energy those trolls could take of one.

For now, I'm really grateful to you for standing with Elianzis, art is suppose to be controversial, art is not to make everyone feel comfortable, is to wonder, to question.

It is so sad to see the media literacy die these days, to have people think less and hate more, this wave of conservatism and conformism in social meadia really worries me, people are so entitled to themselves that can't reflect, discern and separate from a work. Everything is taken personally.

In a way, I'm sad she has to take down the piece, but I'm glad for the sake of her mental health.

I hope at least this discussion helps we, as a fandom, to evade something like this in the future (a person could only dream).

Take care, sorry for the long ask <3

Thank you so much, and sorry if I made you worry! Sometimes I just explode. I'm mostly angry on behalf of the other artist, really.

I really enjoy this type of discussion when everyone is chill about it. But now, when I reread everything I wrote, I noticed I fumbled a lot of my words and didn't fully express what I meant. To summarize, everything has nuance, and it’s okay to criticize both fictional and real-life stuff. I do believe that fiction and media can normalize harmful things, and I truly belive that. but I also think it’s fine for someone if they want to enjoy problematic content, when they can acknowledge its issues. For example, if someone tells me they like Lovecraftian horror, I’m like, "Ok, cool! I like it too!" But if they start to show discomfort or being indenial when I wanna talk about problematic stuff about Lovecraft, then yes, that is a massive red flag. Its a extreme exemple but that is all I can come up with right now 😅

I think all of this will tone down eventually. Epic community is a very chill fandom compare to others :) But all fandoms has its dowsides.

[snackugaki]

part 1 

did I have to cut it there? yes. why? because I’m p-e-t-t-y, I’m petty all the time  ♪ ♫ 

but also, the image cap boo

the tags cannot contain my full power some of my really good tags got eaten by the tag limit and they’re grudges I keep in a little pile in my heart

did this silly little fan comic get away from me? ...YES

was I gonna originally stop it there? also yes but you know... I love being snide and petty but after catching covid like a week ago I’m not gonna bring any bad juju with me into next year if I can help it

I forgot how fucking neon the coloring got for awhile in the archie comics

im cryin g this was supposed to be a short’n sentimental’n sweet comic and now look at me, i played myself

look, Venus has waited a quarter of a century, she earned this

i think... what tickles me most about Venus after coming back to TMNT fandom via Rise, is that from what I can see (on tumblr), the kids love her. they love her and make versions of her in the series that came after the 90s. i look at their bios, some weren’t even born when Next Mutation was airing. (and as far as I can tell, Next Mutation didn’t really get much syndicated airtime if any) ...and they still love her. hurt me in my old little heartguts. it’s mostly my generation of tmnt fans who express distaste for her... but the new fans, they love her, they include her in their aus, they make a place for her in their childhood series. hoo h oo giv give me a moment..

if I could pop back into 1998 and tell little 13 year old snackugaki that Venus would be back, I would. all I had were Trini Kwan and Venus de Milo (not ONLY them, just for the purpose of this post) as a fighty, angry little girl. 

all my childhood idols who could fight were calm, level-headed characters who could just happen to throw a villain through a wall if they really needed to. if it wasn’t for them who knows where baby snacku fite meh! gaki would be today. going up against Rhonda Rousey for the championship belt idk, who can accurately estimate the magnitude of childhood influences, not this bitch

if you’re also in PST and wondering why I typed up this post at goddamn 3am then we’re both insomniacs, you didn’t see me, stop snitching

EDIT: I KNEW IT, SOME OF THE TAGS GOT EATEN! HATEFUL! HATEFUL TUMBLR LIMITATIONS! ahhhhh it’s whatevs

[wistfulnightingale]

Reflections and Divisions (or, Mirrors in the Show, Mirrors of Ourselves)

Mini-Meta Musing #11

Good Omens is a truly wonderful show. It's among the friendliest, healthiest fandoms out there, and has attracted multitudes of people from all over the world, across generations. We look at the lovably flawed characters and see people we can relate to. Nevermind that they are literally Angels and Demons -- we decide which we identify with, a little of this, a little of that, or all in! Am I more of an angel? Am I mostly demon? Do I ride out the waves, or create them? Am I sassy? Cool? Defiant? Awkward? Daring? Devoted?

For some of us, like me, we see Neurodivergent representation there, coded or otherwise. We ponder if fast-moving, book-tossing Crowley has ADHD traits like we do, or if Azriaphale's social naiveté and fixated earnestness is a cinnamon roll bundle like our own Autism. Even then, not everyone with neurodivergence sees themselves perfectly reflected there. But it's still comforting. (And Maggie herself, both the character and Maggie Service the actor, gives us an actually Autistic icon to smile about!)

The story within the show is structured on the compatibility and contrast of complementary opposites. Demon and Angel in our beloved Ineffables. Practical vs. Idealist in Nina and Maggie, who themselves are mirrors of Crowley and Aziraphale. Gabriel and Beelzebub, although when I look at that pair, I'm drawn to see their similarities more than their differences.

This structure creates interesting dynamics in the fandom itself. Not only do we find ourselves relating to the characters' identities, we are drawn to relate to their experiences. Their challenges and obstacles reflect our own. Many of us have dealt with ridiculous work bureaucracy, too much paperwork, isolation. We've dealt with social rejection and judgmentalism. For some of us, religious trauma. A lot of us have had to fight for independence, the right to live our lives as we wish and to be who we are, regardless of others' harsh opinions. We see that in Crowley and Aziraphale, and love them for it. We want them to fight for each other.

When each of us watch the Final Fifteen, we see ourselves reflected there too. Many of us have experienced at least one painful and complicated break-up in our lives. Rejection, or being incredibly misunderstood by someone you love and trust, can feel excruciating. Some of us have been fortunate enough to experience genuine acceptance in a loving relationship. If we're older folk, maybe it's been long-term. Or maybe not, but maybe we feel happy about the time we had that was good.

It's the one, singular part of the fandom I see division in. Maybe you've noticed it too. Most of the time it's handled with good grace and kindly disagreement. But it does make discussion of the Final Fifteen complicated sometimes, doesn't it? Whichever "side" you relate to, it seems so clear that THAT is the experience you see there. How can others NOT see it? The Ineffables are our mirrors.

It's like looking at clouds. Or the old Rorschach ink-blot test. We see what makes sense to us. And our Ineffables are so Wonderfully Human, like us, in all our glories and failings.

The Final Fifteen is agonizing to watch. Their pain and confusion is real and raw. For many of us, it sets off sympathetic echoes. We may ourselves feel angry, betrayed. We may feel heartbroken, tearful, even protective. It might make us want to take sides, like when a dear friend has been hurt in a relationship. If we blame Azi, we either condemn him entirely, or sympathize with how he seemed to misread the situation and communicated so poorly. We shake our heads and commiserate with Crowley at that desperate, ill-timed kiss.

For me, I was crushed after the first watch. And the second. But when I re-watched the series yet again, I saw a Love in Season 2 that (to me) was too solid to crumble with such ease. Most especially, I saw a Love that was acknowledged, a partnership that was real and established, not something that had never even occurred to Crowley before. "Our car..." "We both get plenty of use out of it [the bookshop]." "A sherry for Lady Bracknell" (who is a proper dowager from Oscar Wilde's "The Importance of Being Earnest" btw). The self-aware embarassment and cautious contact was long gone. Instead, there are unmistakable looks of flirtation, and private jokes, and shared memories, and familiarity. An "Our Song!" They even fight with more openness and trust, secure that expressed anger and Apology Dances will lead to eventual resolution.

That's how "I Believe in Nightingales" came about. I believe that the relationship is indeed An Old Married Couple who has grown up a lot since Season 1. A bonded couple who have rhythms of their own, little looks and understandings. Who accept each other in all their flaws, and even find the differences attractive sometimes. Or ridiculous sometimes, but still love and accept those differences unconditionally. That the complementary opposites form a united whole.

It also put me on a quest to make sense of that belief. I started looking for clues, spending waaaaay too many hours scrutinizing details, looking at footage in slow motion, taking screenshot after screenshot. And loving every moment of it! Good Omens is, I believe, a superb piece of craftsmanship. That's why, 16 months later, we're still talking and posting and theorizing! I'll be posting some theories myself in a day or two.

The beauty of Good Omens is also that it's a home for the dreamers, the outcasts, the oddballs, the lovers. There's room for all of us.

Here's to us always making room for each other...

Here's to Our World!

(A shoutout to @kimberleyjean, whose beautiful posts, examining dualities and mirroring in Good Omens, inspired a metaphor to express the thoughts I've been pondering for months! And to @sendarya for her lovely video essay/discussion on YouTube from the IneffableCon 5, Exploring Belonging in Good Omens.)

[scoobydoodean]

I was wondering if you, as a Dean fan have opinions about the different writers? Mostly because I see a lot of Dean fans really strongly dislike Dabb for some reason and I don’t really understand why. I’ve never seen a concrete explanation beyond “he can’t write Dean/doesn’t understand Dean/actively hates Dean” but with no examples as to what he does that’s so bad. And I see this in every shipping lane. I don’t have a strong opinion about him as a writer one way or the other.

I'm exploring this more as I rewatch the show (currently on season 6) so I'll speak mainly from that perspective on my most recent thoughts. I am not a big fan of Dabb or Loflin, but have tried to be fair about things so far when talking through each episode. I am a fan of "Alpha and Omega"—it's my favorite finale (it's also... a finale for a season Carver started as showrunner? So I don't know what the implications are there as far as storyboarding). Also points for having demon Dean stab a guy through in 10.02.

I'll focus on the negatives you asked about in this post, but in the links you'll find me moving the narrative this way and that toward much more charitable readings... I think. (I do have a tag #dabb disk horse which you can either peruse or blacklist at your leisure). What I can tell you is something almost always strikes me as a off about Dabb/Loflin episodes so far in this rewatch in terms of character work.

Dabb/Loflin's first ever episode was 4.06 "Yellow Fever". In the aftermath, Kripke felt the need to release a definitive interpretation of their episode to the public, stating, "Dean is not a dick... he's a hero." The whole episode toyed with, to an extent, the idea that all the victims of the MotW were bullies. You can take this other directions—for example, queer meta, or meta about Sam as the real bully. However, the story a lot of fandom latched onto was that "Dean is a jerk and deserves to be humiliated and punished for that" which obviously didn't make Dean fans watching live in season 4 happy—and this theme of Jerk!Dean continues into their next episode, "After School Special", where they once again parallel Dean with a bully literally nicknamed "Dirk the Jerk" by Sam, and throw what I think is transparent shade at Kripke's issued statement from before the Christmas break (post here)... or maybe they mean to throw shade at the Dean fans who got angry. In this episode, they also make illusions to Dean wanting to have sex with barely legal high school cheerleaders, which also did not ingratiate them to Deanfans at the time. I said on my last rewatch, "In After School Special, Dean seems more unlike himself than any episode ever in the history of Supernatural up to this point" (post explaining that here). I carry similar sentiments about portions of 5.06 "I Believe The Children Are Our Future". Yes—I am aware of performing Dean meta. I just... feel like they try a little too hard. It feels hamfisted—desperate. To the point it doesn't feel like Dean anymore sometimes. In 5.06, they also have Dean (guy who is generally very protective of kids) suggest to Jesse that he'd be good to have in a fight???? I can see how they got there, but again—it just feels... off. The last episode I rewatched that they authored, 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's", also leaves a bad taste in my mouth—not in what it's trying to do with Bobby or what it's trying to do on a meta level—but once again, with dialogue from Dean that just makes me think "he would not fucking say that" (post here). I think looking at all of these, you can probably see deangirl ire toward Dabb has a long history. It's been around as long as he's been around, whether he deserves as much ire as he gets or not.

I haven't circled back yet on this rewatch, but Dabb and Loflin also penned season 7's "The Girl Next Door"... do I need to say anything specific? Maybe I'll just link my entire #amy tag. What narrative did they want you to get from that episode? Who the fuck knows. And that's often the problem:

When you watch various episodes I've mentioned, you can work around to a meta that tells you something different than you might at first think the page conveys—something hidden and maybe contradictory. The thing is... you could also... not do that? And that wouldn't be so bad, except that sometimes the two narratives you can most easily grasp completely contradict each other. "After School Special" can be an episode that points to Sam's envy of Dean and John deep down and foreshadows Sam becoming a bully, but on a meta level, it also just as easily says Sam becoming a bully is somehow Dean's fault, and Sam is some poor captive baby. Dean is a creep and a bully and a cheater but we should all coddle him because he saw his mom die when he was a child and he's sooo sad. "Yellow Fever" can be a queer meta story and might also foreshadow approaching Bully!Sam in 4.14, but it also very much does call Dean a jerk (should we take that seriously? should we not?) and implies Dean should be punished for the outcome of three decades of reality-bending torture. Even if it's a queer meta underneath... it's just as easily one about how closeted men should be humiliated for cowardice or how being closeted turns you into an asshole.

Jumping way ahead, I have to mention 15.10 "The Hero's Journey" just because. Yes, it is full of jokes and Garth goodness, but also tries to sell you the story that nothing about Sam and Dean is real, to a degree that feels like you are being flipped the bird for ever watching this show. And again—you can make meta that it's all a ruse! But is it? Or is Dabb actually just telling you to go fuck yourself? Like he totally wasn't when, after the SPN finale when fans were Not Happy™️, he tweeted a sign reading, "Don't feed the baboons"? Yet again—we play into the motif of the "hero" who isn't a hero at all but some pathetic loser who deserves to be publicly humiliated, bookended with Dabb's opening episode in his opening season. I'm not saying that's what it is on purpose—but I am saying you can make these arguments easily, and that leaves me consistently annoyed with Dabb for being fucking sloppy and leaving me to deal with some of the most insufferable meta imaginable that carries little support outside of episodes written by Dabb or the Dabb/Loflin writing team.... Yes—I am in fact saying that Dabb and Loflin's hamfisted episodes (regardless of their intentions) are largely responsible for some of the most insufferable, loathesome fandom metas about Sam and Dean's relationship around.

Look at 5.16 "Dark Side Of The Moon", and 7.08 "Time for A Wedding!" and 8.14 "Trial and Error", 11.17 "Red Meat", and 15.20 "Carry On". Along with 4.13, while they might or might not say something deeper or contradictory on a meta level, on a surface level, every single one of these episodes sows the narrative that Dean is needy and clingy and needs Sam more than Sam needs him—something I intensely disagree with for a multitude of reasons... but I'll just link this. Many of these episodes also follow a surface level narrative of "normal life obsessed Sam" (and here I'll link my entire #sam the hunter tag and #in which sam is not a helpless little waif with his hands cast over his eyes being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea). When I look at this episode list, I also don't find it at all difficult to believe that Dabb wanted Dean to die in the finale. There is nothing at all shocking about that. And yes—you can argue he's pointing to the opposite—that this fate should be subverted and that's what makes 15.20 the dark ending, but I think you can just as easily argue that yes it's a dark ending and yes Dabb has always dreamed of this ending. A "tragic" ending where Dean dies and Sam goes on to have a white picket fence... while also leaving you little hints along the way that maybe it's all a big ruse because how could he not? He never has to explain anything. Someone else will pick up the story and make it make sense. He's already fucked off to piss all over fans of Resident Evil.

That said, when I mention what I feel is off character work, I mainly mention Dabb/Loflin episodes from my recent rewatch, which suffer from the two of them being newer to the series (coming onto the writing team in season 4) and also leave questions about whether, perhaps, they had conflicting ideas about characterization. Was Dabb the one penning these lines? Was it Loflin? Was it both? Did they trade out who took the lead? I didn't really say anything negative about "Sam, Interrupted" or "Jump the Shark"... (though "Sam, Interrupted" also calls Dean "codependent") who wrote those? Is it possible that the messiness of the meta comes down to two writers at war? I have to imagine though, that they got along, or else they wouldn't have written together for four fucking years. If they didn't get along...? My mind always comes back to their first solo episodes, right after splitting up in season 8. Dabb's first solo episode is "Hunteri Heroici"—the only episode to lend any perspective to season 8 Sam's reasons for abandoning everyone—paralleling him checking out with Fred's catatonia, which Sam has to save Fred from. It is the only episode that lends Sam sympathy in the early part of the season. He follows it up with "Trial and Error"—where Sam promises to save Dean from suicidal thoughts. Loflin's first solo episode is what I would regard as the most scathing solo episode commentary on Sam in the entire series—"Citizen Fang". Then he writes again right after Dabb's "Trial and Error"—penning "Remember The Titans" where Sam tells Dean to get over the promise Sam so passionately made in Dabb's episode and face reality.

This is why we're exploring this rewatch.

DISCLAIMER: Now I just devolve into bitching because I'm writing at 3AM. Proceed at your own risk.

It seems like these days, everyone demands an explanation for disliking Dabb (something about some sort of destiel battle... I don't know what that flamewar is and I don't give a damn tbqh.) I guess I've just been wondering what's actually so great about him. Because it feels like people have overcorrected to basically acting like he's god's greatest gift to mankind. People point to how meta his episodes can be, but I think other writers easily best him on that front on multiple occasions (particularly enjoyed by me so far on this rewatch: 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me", 4.04 "Monster Movie", 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"), and without leaving their meaning so up in the air that you don't even know what the hell they were actually trying to tell you because there are two different completely incongruous narratives you could just as justifiably claim were the intended one. Some people may find that duality praise-worthy. I don't. I find it sloppy—and when I add in mediocre character work, I just land on the side of him being, at the very best, mid.

Add him in as showrunner, you have... at least two of my least favorite seasons (13 and 15). Add that he's a one-trick pony in terms of the Sam and Dean conflicts mentioned above that he continuously rehashes rather than come up with anything new or fresh, and the same conflicts between Dean and Cas being played out until they both die (shut UP I'm not talking about canon destiel as the alternative—I am literally just asking for more diverse conflicts). I can't say I understand what I''m supposed to find so impressive.

(Before anyone so much as breathes this near me, Berens also sucks and I am going to tear off your nose hairs if you start bringing him up as if disliking Dabb for some reason means wearing rose colored glasses about Berens. Berens can eat a whole cactus raw over "The Trap" alone.)

[yandere-sins]

Mixed Feelings (Yandere!Kafka x Reader x Yandere!Blade)

Honestly? I got side-tracked while writing my Yan!Himeko/Welt x Reader. Insted I wrote this. Found out Kafka is easier to write than I initially thought. I like Blade but he keeps dying in my team, so he deserves some softness. Bon appetit!

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail  Pairings: Yandere!Kafka x GN!Reader x Yandere!Blade   Warnings: Yandere, Dub-/Non-Con touches/kisses, Hints at kidnapping/owning reader, Soft yandere, Possessiveness, Obsession, Infatuation, Sexual innuendos, It's not stated but there is a small implication that reader is taller than Kafka but not taller than Blade

Kafka should have been offended at the sight of you sitting on Blade’s lap, but for some reason, she really couldn’t bring herself to it.

She should have been upset and angry at you for being quiet and obedient to someone who wasn’t Kafka. She should have been fuming as she watched him run his hand down your arm, his eyes following the touch with wonder reflected in it, and gripping it tightly when you tried to pull away. But then Blade reconsidered, forced himself to be gentle when you flinched. He had you propped on his leg, only your tiptoes reaching the floor as you sat stiff like a board, your back straighter than a blade, but Kafka had never seen him quite so calm, and neither you. Usually, you’d throw your hands in her face or try to crawl away when she wanted to do similar things with you, but there was something different about how you let Bladie treat you.

It ticked her off and intrigued her just as much at the same time.

It was painfully obvious, but neither of you knew what to make of the other. You were looking at each other equally as perplexed as Kafka felt as she watched you interact. It was strange because she felt like she wanted to say something, never too shy to speak up, tease, and defend you. But this time, she wanted to see what would happen if she kept still. You were both explosive in different ways, and she had the lighter to escalate this moment. Yet, she snuffed out the flame, watching, surprised that Blade hadn’t noticed her yet. Surprised about how deeply in thought he must have been to ignore a possible threat like her, seething beneath her curiosity.

The looks you gave each other were equally as surprising as they were confusing. Kafka knew you. No matter how much you liked to deny it, wanting to stay an enigma before her all-seeing eyes, she knew you better than anyone. You were scared. You braved yourself with your straight posture and gritted teeth, but you were scared of Blade, who had only been ordered to look after you while Kafka went to fetch you a drink. It didn’t help that she had kept you to herself until now, so you didn't know the strange man she left you with; didn't know that Kafka’s 'friends' were equally as crazy as she was—if not more. 

However Blade had managed to wrangle you into this position was unexplainable, her little rascal almost subservient now, sitting on his lap and letting his arm support you. But Kafka had to admit that Bladie could be unnerving, and it seemed that once he caught you, he had taken your moody self over completely. But even more of an enigma, perhaps, was the man awkwardly dragging his fingers over yours, trying to gain a hold on you while you dug your nails into your thighs, refusing him that pleasure.

Kafka had seen so many emotions in Blade’s eyes throughout the years. Numbness, mostly. But also anger and ecstasy. So seeing the smallest sparks of affection in his formally dead gaze, adoration, and longing swirling in the mad red, was new to even her. He was like a completely different person, though no less deadly so, Kafka was sure. It was just unusual for him to latch on to anyone, and her heart shrunk in bitterness, knowing it was for her darling.

Blade was her ‘friend’. At least he was someone she could bear keeping by her side. So seeing the hints of infatuation as he looked at you, jealousy began to bubble up in her. Kafka didn’t want him to grow fond of the one person she only wanted to herself, not being someone who liked to share what she felt was profoundly hers. There was a moment of hope for her poor heart, though, your eyes flitting over to her nervously, widening as you found her standing in the door frame holding a sweet, colorful drink for you, two straws sticking out of it. 

“Ka- Kafka!” you gasped, realizing your own predicament of being seen like this. You might argue and whine, but Kafka had installed a good portion of fear inside you, and you instinctively knew this was not a good look for you. But as you tried to jump up, Blade gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him and catching you off-guard, forcing out a most adorable “Ouf!” from your lips while your body collapsed in his arms. 

“My, my. If looks could kill,” Kafka chuckled, the smile playing on her lips never reaching her eyes as she returned Blade’s glare. Stepping down the few steps into the room, Kafka was undeterred as she made her way over to the both of you. Compared to you, she didn’t fear Blade. Why would she? Kafka knew he would do nothing to upset her. Handing you the glass, you didn’t bother refusing her kindness like usually, a mix of shame and fear forcing you into compliance. You took what she gave you—a delightful change in your attitude for once—and Kafka ran her gloved fingers down to your wrist, wrapping them around it before giving it a light tug. 

Immediately, you got on your feet, not needing her to tell you twice. Bladie’s arms slit off you defeatedly as he grumbled under his breath, averting his eyes from the sight of Kafka bringing you against her, with it being her arm now wrapped around you possessively, reminding her fellow Hunter who you belonged to.

“Thank you for watching my precious darling, Bladie. I hope you two played nice with each other while I was gone.”

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled, pouting at the insinuation that you two had been on a childish playdate. Kafka relished in the sight of your wary attempt to defy her, yet you were too scared to look at her and tell her to her face. Lucky for you, you were adorable—and it had obviously been Blade who bent you to his will, not you trying to cozy up to him. She could appreciate that, deep down, you knew who you belonged to, not even trying to soften up someone else to get what you wanted or make her jealous on purpose. 

It wouldn’t have worked anyway, considering it was Blade we’re talking about. 

“Really appreciate it,” she instead told him, watching his expression grow more glum with every time she addressed him, his eye twitching as he looked at her. 

“No problem,” he said, almost a little too monotone. Suspiciously composed. His calmness seemed almost too forced. He couldn't fool her. After all, Kafka knew him better than anyone. But Blade merely got up from his seat, walking past both of you, and with a hunch itching inside her, Kafka looked after him, watching as he stepped out of the room. You twisted further away in her hold, trying to make yourself smaller than you were and avoiding drawing more of Blade’s attention as he passed by you, and she clicked her tongue, feeling offended that he frightened you so. Kafka would have to look you over for bruises so she could be sure, but it seemed like Blade had left quite the impression on you and your subconscious mind. A space that should have been occupied with Kafka and the fear as well as desire you felt for her.

To her delight, she was right to look after Blade. His hand gripped the doorframe, fingers tapping discontentedly against the wood as his movements halted. Any normal person would have missed the glance from the corner of Blade's eyes, first at you, then crossing Kafka’s, the light from outside the room bright and hurtful as it blinded her. And yet, she knew he’d hesitate but needed to see it with her own two eyes so she could confirm her suspicions. Even when he retreated without another second delay, hurry in his step as it echoed down the corridor, Kafka was sure now, the tell-tale signs glaringly obvious.

“Seems Bladie likes you,” she teased, fingers digging into your waist and pulling you flush against her, chest to chest. You took a nervous sip from one of the two straws, avoiding all eye contact. “I don’t mind you two becoming friends, you know?”

“He’s weird,” you mumbled while hiding behind another sip of your drink. “We’re not friends.”

“Now, now, you’re being rude to my friend. Try to get along with him, okay? He seems to really like you.”

You glanced down at her suspiciously. You were wary of her pushing you towards this connection. Wary, she was testing you, or maybe you were wary because you really didn't want to get closer to Blade. The latter amused her as much as it pleased her. “Don’t wanna…”

Kafka couldn’t help but chuckle at your childish antics. You loved trying to gain her sympathy, especially when you were scared, and she loved every last part of your easily readable personality. Even when you hated her, you knew better than to get on her bad side, and Kafka was weak to your pacification attempts. At the very least, you were thinking of her in everything you did, and she was proud of her little manipulator for pulling at her heartstrings with more ease than even her Spirit Whisper could make you compliant and cuddly. 

“It’s fine—really,” she reassured you in a gentle voice, feeling your body relax a little in her arms, even if you were still oh-so wary of her. Raising herself to her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to the corner of your mouth, startling you. However, in the dawn of still being scared of having done something to upset her, you merely huffed, turning your head away. 

Kafka wondered how you’d behave, knowing who was still standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall next to the door and listening to the conversation, having come back on quiet soles after his exit. Would you cower? Hide behind her? Apologize for being rude to Blade? Poor Bladie’s heart must have been broken all over again, yet he hadn’t left even after you called him weird.

“I don’t mind,” Kafka reiterated, pinching your cheek until you faced her again, her chance to get a proper kiss from the lips she loved so much. Sweetness spread between you two as she tasted the drink on your tongue, a surprised gasp escaping you as she bit down on the pliable muscle. The sound was enough to ruffle some feathers outside the door, the faint sound of clothes moving as Blade finally took his leave for good, unable to endure what he thought was going to happen next. 

Kafka grinned. 

She had a sudden desire to take you to the room next to Bladie’s, making you whimper and scream to give him an earful of the person he was infatuated with, destroying his idea of you and teasing his broken heart to see just how far he was willing to go to mend it this time. It was a doomed experiment, but it gave Kafka the satisfaction of getting revenge on the person who carelessly laid their hands on what belonged only to her.

“I don’t care what you two do while I’m gone. But I hope you always remember whose arms you go back to once you're done having fun, Darling.”

[yayakoishii]

Hello love! I saw your post asking for Sanji requests and as a die hard lover of both the anime and live action Sanji, I'll happily provide.

The crew ends up docking at a random island to rest and stay a bit on solid ground. When looking for a place to stay/eat they come across the readers restraunt. Just as they're about to walk in a customer gets thrown out the front door with the reader angrily yelling about manners and how to treat people respectfully.

The readers a cook, a little short tempered, loud, and unapologetically themselves and Sanji instantly falls in love.

Alright alright I'm done now ~ 🍄🐛💫

Respect | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji × Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff??

A/n: Hey there anon!! I'm super late, but I hope you're still around to see this <3 tbh, this isn't my best work and I feel like it got a little ooc and derailed a bit towards the end but I hope you enjoy it! for all my short temper, I have no idea how to write an angry little gremlin lol.

To everyone else, thank you for the 100 followers and all the likes and comments!! This is insane tbh, I wasn't expecting anything on any of my works 😭 Y'all are too kind ❤️

also available on ao3!

The island they had docked on wasn't all that big, but the people there were lively. There weren't many hotels they could find since the town wasn't all that big, and any that they found were already filled to the brim. Finally after walking around for a while, they found a small tavern quite a ways from the shore. It seemed to be a little lively because there were sounds coming from the inside but it seemed to not be so full that they couldn't grab a table.

As they neared the door of the establishment, it suddenly banged open and two men fell through, looking a little roughed up and angry. The crew lingered at a distance, wondering what was going on when you came out, your chef's hat perfectly atop your head, with your hands on your hips.

"I better not see you around here ever again!" You snapped at the two, who flinched ever so slightly. "If you lack manners, that's YOUR problem. You can't take it out on my girls and expect me to treat you like the valued customers you are not."

The two sat up and glared at you, ready to retort but you raised the pan in your hand, waving it in front of their faces.

"Scram, unless you want me to burn your face," you finished calmly. That was enough. The two immediately scrambled up and ran into the distance. You huffed and blew away the lock of hair that had slipped out of your hat. You were about to turn around and go back in when you noticed the group standing there. "What?"

"Oh, um, we were looking for a place to eat?" Chopper felt the need to answer because you were staring at him. (You were a little curious and didn't mean to stare but that was hard when the group was full of… unique characters.)

"Well, a table just got empty so help yourself in," you grumbled, jerking your thumb to beckon them inside. The crew silently followed you in, to find that your tavern was mostly full too but the people were more calm and the ruckus of the other hotels was missing. "Oh yeah. Before you settle in, you should know the one rule of my establishment."

You narrowed your eyes at them. "You treat any of my girls with anything less than respect and you'll be thrown out like those two. Capisce?"

The crew just nodded, too hungry to actually bother with anything else but Sanji couldn't help but find you absolutely charming. It was common to find people who bent and let their customers do whatever for the sake of business, but you were protective of your employees and you didn't care about being a fake sort of nice. He watched you stalk back to where the food was being cooked, responding nicely to the customers asking if all was good. You were nice where it mattered, and unapologetically yourself if your values were threatened. It was all too easy to find you like a breath of fresh air.

That wasn't even what did it, though. For Sanji, what did it was the moment one of your waitresses had come back with the food they had ordered and he had tasted the dish he had watched you prepare with the ease and expertise of someone who clearly loved and lived for their profession. One bite and he nearly moaned there, masking it under a hum of appreciation.

Even Luffy was looking at the food star eyed and his speed in sucking up the food somehow increased. Sanji tried to not do the same, wanting to savour the taste as long as he could but it was clear that if he took too long, Luffy would have finished it all by then.

The hotel was nearly empty by the time they were done and they were one of the only customers still remaining. Sanji was sure it was dark enough outside that they would need light to make their way back to the ship. You were finishing off, calling out orders for the girls who were starting to clear up. You caught his eye and Sanji couldn't look away, mesmerised by the sight of you removing your hat and shaking your hair free. You were gorgeous, a good cook, and had the personality of a firework. He had to do something–

"Let's take her with us!" Luffy announced suddenly, banging his hand on the table. Everyone startled and Sanji stared at him as if he has grown two heads.

"Uh Luffy, that's kidnapping–" Nami's words died out the moment she noticed you walking up to their table.

"Hey there," you gave them all a small smile. "Will you guys be needing anything else or should I draw up the bill? I'm afraid it's getting close to closing time."

"Come with us!!" Luffy grinned. You paused and looked at him weirdly.

"Sorry?" You said.

"What he means, mademoiselle," Sanji intervened, giving you the most charming smile he had, "is that your food was absolutely delicious. Our captain would like to have you onboard as a chef."

You were silent, staring at them all with a blank look, until you finally looked at Sanji. Your gaze made him putty but he tried to remain firm.

"You don't have a cook or something?" You smiled, a little amused.

"Sanji is the cook!" Luffy answered, pointing a finger at the blonde man, who was too busy giving you googly eyes to answer. You cocked an eyebrow at that, looking at the said man.

"And you don't mind another chef invading your territory?" You asked, curious. The crew didn't seem to be more than the people in your hotel. There really didn't seem to be any need for an extra chef to you; and anyway, you were happy with your little hole in the wall place. You were just asking because you were curious, not because you actually planned to join them.

"If it's you, you can invade any space of mine, my lady," Sanji's eyes had turned into hearts as he uttered the words. Nami whacked him on the head, worried he would freak you out but that earned him a loud laugh from you.

"You're funny," you grinned, looking back at Luffy with an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, I'm happy where I am. Thanks for the offer but I can't. Now, are you gonna pay up or…?"

Luffy looked like he was going to protest but Usopp held him back. Nami grumbled as she pulled out the pouch of money to pay off their bill and yet all Sanji could think of was begging you to join them. He didn't need another person to cook; he was quite enough. But you, with all your loud beauty, were like a sparkling gem he would never find again. He wanted to have you, to know you, to know all your little quirks and interests. He wanted to cook beside you and fall in love– with cooking and with you, all over again.

The crew started to make their way out but Sanji lingered back, making his way towards you. You noticed and gave him a smile, noting that he really was handsome when he wasn't all heart eyed and half a puddle.

"Is there any way I can change your mind?" He blurted out, feeling his insides shake in anticipation.

"I don't know," you teased, suddenly starting to contemplate if it wouldn't be such a bad idea. You had always wanted to travel, to cook for all kinds of people with all kinds of ingredients; you just never could and had to make do with a small hotel on a small island. Wasn't this a chance to make your dreams come true? "What can you do to convince me?"

"Anything you want from me, mademoiselle," he said breathlessly, gently picking up your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. Your heart fluttered at the action, and you flushed. No one had ever treated you like this, like you were something delicate and priceless and every moment you looked in Sanji's eyes made you feel like you were about to be set on fire.

"W- Well," you stuttered, feeling like you had lost control, "how about you help with the dishes then?"

Surely he would not agree to that. This was just a game, and it was time he would back out. You would go back to your little place, and he would go back to his ship. There was no way he would be okay with–

"Is that all it takes, my lady?" The light purr in his voice made your cheeks feel warm.

"N- no, it's just the start," you turned away from him, trying to hide the blush rising up your cheeks. He was far too good looking to be paying you so intense attention and there was something about him that was capturing your heart, tempting it to agree to his words. If you left your girls behind, who would take care of them? All those men who treated them like they were dolls on display would not just disappear the moment you left the island. You couldn't leave them…

"Then, show me the way," he smiled at you, all perfect white teeth shining under the golden lights of your hotel. You just pointed him to the tower of dishes that his own crew had left behind and watched a little astonished as he really started to wash them.

"He's certainly one of a kind," your fellow cook and friend nudged you as she spoke. You couldn't look away from him as you answered her.

"I don't know what it is about him, but whenever he looks at me, I feel…" You abruptly cut off, feeling embarrassed. "Nothing!"

"You feel nothing?" You friend teased, "That blush on your cheeks doesn't look like nothing to me~"

"Shut up," you growled, hackles raised at the teasing. You never fared well with being teased or flirted with, and unfortunately, it seemed the blonde man– Sanji, his captain had called him, you remembered –was exactly of the latter type. He was no good for you, right?

"I don't know," your friend sighed, drawing up a sad smile as she looked at you. "I know your dream. Even if you don't feel anything for him, I know their offer is a chance for you. Why don't you just take it?"

"I can't leave you all behind," you murmured, heart paining at the thought of ditching them just for your dreams. "If I'm not here, what if–"

"Nothing's gonna happen," your friend interrupted you. "Come on, we aren't no weaklings. And I'm here, aren't I? I'll make sure everyone is safe and taken care of. So don't worry about us and go get your man– I mean, go fulfil your dreams."

You whacked her arm at the teasing, smiling genuinely as you watched Sanji finish off the dishes already. He was so fast, and you couldn't help but feel silly for finding that sexy. Competence and confidence was always sexy.

"Alright," you mumbled to yourself. "I'll do it. But, I think I'll take my time. I did say this is just the start."

Your friend raised an eyebrow at your amused smile. Sanji waved at you to indicate that he was done and you waved back, starting to make your way to him.

"It's more fun this way, isn't it?"

°•❀•°

[k-s-morgan]

Hey K, have you seen the controversy around Hugh Dancy’s answers to hannigram-related questions at the Fan expo? Some fans are mad saying he’s a Hannigram denier but I’ve been in this fandom for 11 years now and honestly, reading his answers, he’s still saying the same stuff he always did though? So I’m a bit confused as to why people are angry with his answers?

He always acknowledged they loved each other, that it was a romance, but platonic. Also, I think he’s got a very British sense of humor and is sarcastic and ironic a lot and was never really into discussing hannigram as an openly gay romance, but more so because he is a literal guy in the way he communicates. Tons of Brits are like that. Especially actors, they’re not keen on doing fan service or saying what people like to hear. Mads on the other hand, loves enticing the audience and talking about Hannigram the way they want to hear.

All in all, maybe it’s bc some of these people are new to the fandom, but I literally think that this was just Hugh being Hugh and he gave mostly the same responses as he’s done in the past. It’s a mix of his sense of humor and the tone of the fan expo which is light and not necessarily a proper interview where he’d be more serious and give long answers.

Overall, what do you think?

Hi! Yes, I know a lot of people were unhappy with Hugh's responses - I'm not watching the fandom as closely as I used to, but I'm still keeping an eye on it.

I agree with you in that I heard nothing new. In my opinion, the problem lies in the reputation of 'Hannibal' fandom. We're known as a (mostly) cozy place where the biggest M/M ship is canon and actively supported by cast, writers, and the director. They all said so many wonderful things over the years, things that keep being repeated and are taken as a fandom Bible.

That's why people might still be unpleasantly surprised when they hear Hugh's reserved, distant replies, or Mads' weirdly shallow answers, or Bryan's ideas that are all over the place.

The truth is, ten years separate these people from their work. Hugh in particular hasn't even seen S3 as a complete product, at least from what I lasted heard. Besides, they all have been inconsistent even when the show was airing - Hugh has an interesting habit of saying different things depending on what kind of interview he's giving and who he's with. As an example, in the commentary to S3, he agreed with Bryan that Will was jealous of Bedelia and snapping at her because of it, but then later, he said Will disliked Bedelia for basically being a bad person, with jealousy being unrelated to it.

I'll be the first person to admit that some of Hugh's (and others') answers make no sense or contradict the show, but over the years, I got very used to it, to the point where it doesn't faze me any longer.

Hugh thinks it would take Will 7 season to fall in love with Hannibal, even though 7 seasons haven't been in the plans for over a decade (as Bryan has settled on 5 ages ago), and Will's silence to Bedelia's question and his further choices clearly meant to show he reciprocates? Ok. Hugh things Will's feelings for Hannibal are unrelated to his feelings regarding his own darkness? Fine - at least he acknowledged Will is dark because sometimes there are some denials about it. He thinks Will's decision to betray Jack and Alana and get a bunch of innocent people killed has nothing to do with his love for Hannibal? Lol, but all right.

I don't believe S4 will ever happen. Now, if it's announced, and then I keep hearing the stuff I really don't like, I might get worried, but as it is, I just save the things I agree with and ignore the rest :D The show is over, and we are all invited to come up with our own version of Will and Hannibal's future life. I'm also absolutely certain that we, passionate fans, know the show much, much better than people who were involved in it a decade ago. I mean, if I finished writing a fic 2 years ago, then a reader who just read it will probably know it better than I do at this point. It's natural.

Also, during this reunion, so many wonderful things were said, too. About Hannibal inviting Molly 'for dinner' and Will describing him as a 'therapist' to her, Hannibal urging Will to lose at least a dog or two out of the thousand when they are on the run, Will being annoyed by Hannibal's fussy kitchen habits, etc.

Basically, I don't think we heard anything new or bad. Some answers might have been frustrating, but the good still tops the bad, in my opinion - and the bad isn't all that relevant.