#this is something that makes me so happy for humanity

[jjunae]

NYC ⸺ sjy

❔ spiderman pays you a visit 〡 spiderman!jake x fmr warnings! lil implications of skinship, swearing ( LIBRARY )

‘are you upset?’

‘no, of course not. do i look upset?’ you asked, teeth grit, while you aggressively flipped through the pages of your book, hardly bothered to spare a glance towards his direction.

‘i don't know. pretty, can you look at me?’ jake pleaded, and you closed the textbook shut, eyes flitting towards the window. he was always there, in his red and blue, web-themed suit. you’d, eventually, grown a habit of leaving it open, just for him. 

‘don’t call me that.’

‘i knew you were mad. i promise, i'm not hurt,’ he said, his hand reaching to pull the mask off his face. you instantly jumped off your bed, scrambling over to him, to drag him inside your room. you slammed the shutters down, before turning to face him. 

‘are you fucking stupid? i’ve told you a million times! don’t pull it off, even if you’re just out my window,’ you snapped. it was evident you were irritable.  

‘sorry,’ he muttered, while he flung the cloth away. 

‘don’t throw your shit around my room,’ you grumbled, while he bent over to pick up the mask off your floor, quietly mouthing a “sorry”, yet again. 

you looked him up and down, your eyes scanning every inch of his body. he had a bloodied lip, and a couple of scrapes and cuts. not too much, you thought, while pulling out the first-aid box you’d kept for him. 

‘sit,’ you instructed, and so he did. he knew exactly where to sit; he’d been in this room at least a million times, for this very reason.  

‘i’m sorry,’ he started, causing you to furrow your brows. 

‘i really am. i didn’t mean to stand you up, something was happening down at oscorp, and you know jay works there, so i-’

‘wait. you think i’m upset because you stood me up?’ you cut him off, with a tilt of your head. 

‘yeah? i know you’d got us reservations, and i’m so sorry. i know it meant a lot to you, so i’ll make it up to you,’ he swore, a hint of confusion seeping into his eyes. 

‘jake, i’m not upset about that. i know you have a duty to fulfill,’ you murmured, hand reaching to push back the sweaty strands of hair falling over his forehead, ‘it’s just, i’m always so worried. i know i’m being silly, but i’m scared for you. i don’t know what’s happening to you, or what you’re doing. is it so hard to tell me where you are?’ you asked, your voice slightly quivering. 

‘no, i don’t like calling you. what if someone traces your number through my call records? i don’t want your safety to be compromised, but i guess that doesn't make sense, yeah? i mean, you’re always exposed to danger, because you’re close to me,’ he finished, with an awkward chuckle. 

‘i chose to be with you, even though i knew about you being spiderman. it was my choice, so quit acting like a hero; like you’re responsible for me, all the damn time. i’m my own human,’ you spat, grabbing him by his cheeks, looking into his eyes.

a part of you knew, he could’ve stopped your hand if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he was trying to understand you, though it was hard for him. god, if only he knew how much you loved him. 

‘okay,’ he said, slowly. 

‘okay,’ you nodded, letting go of him, and you both maintained a comfortable silence, while you patched up his cuts. 

‘what about my kiss?’ he complained, after a pause. it was (another) habit you had, kissing him after you were done helping him out.  

‘you’ll get it. be patient, spider-boy.’  

and, patient he was. sim jaeyun returned home as a happy man, with pink-colored smudges imprinted on his cheeks.

#( ᐢ..ᐢ ) . . . 𝓌orks #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake x reader #jake sim #jake sim imagines #jake sim drabbles #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen headcanons #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake oneshot #jake sim fluff

[churipu]

Hellooo! I saw ur reqs wer open and I wanted to know if its oknif ok if u can write abt the jjk men being their for their gf's performance/exhibit for school or work when their family or friends can't make it?

(I love how how the way you write them as well! I found u through the nanami oneshot and I've just been on ur masterlist reading through all of ur fics and drabbles, esp now with me going through the same thing as above 💛)

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ

❪ jjk men showing up in your art exhibition when nobody did ❫

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. none :)

note. hi nonnie :( thank you so much for the love, i'm so sorry for the delay, i'm so sorry that happened to you. i'm 100% sure whatever you were presenting to everyone was awesome! i love you <33

𝜗𝜚 . GOJO SATORU

gojo has received your heads up regarding an art exhibit a week prior. he'd notice the way you've been very very excited about having your art work presented for people to see. and he's happy to see you happy.

he made it extra clear he wanted nothing with the jujutsu world the day your exhibit was held — all he wanted was a nice and peaceful day to spend with his partner. gojo woke up extra early to send you off, helping you get ready.

the way your smile lit up his morning, he couldn't even get back to sleep right after, seeing how happy you are with today. gojo can't even wait for the time to struck twelve for the exhibition opening, and so he got there an hour early.

he was silent with his movements, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his grasp as he paced around the crowded area — blue eyes averting everywhere to look for you. with his height, finding you wasn't too hard for him.

pushing through oceans of humans, he stood right in front of you. the solemn look on your face doesn't go unnoticed, "hi, baby."

you look up to see him and crack a smile, "you came."

gojo grins down at you, "of course i did, can't miss my girl's exhibition, can i?" his large hand covered the top of your head, "why the frown? are you not happy to see me?"

chuckling, you shake your head, "no. my parents couldn't make it, they were too busy with work."

and you were so excited to show them your art work too. gojo didn't forget the way you rambled on about how your parents were going to love it — especially when it was dedicated to them. and they butchered it up by choosing work over you.

this time, gojo frowns along with you, "they didn't show up?"

with a shake of your head, gojo pulls you into his embrace, "i'm sorry that happened, show me everything? i arrived here an hour ago to see you, you know?"

"one hour? so early and for what?"

"to see you, silly. i couldn't wait to see all your works," he pressed his lips onto your forehead, "and this is for my beautiful girl."

he handed you the bouquet and laced his fingers with yours, "let's get some food after this? it's a date."

"it's a date!" you smiled, no longer feeling upset.

𝜗𝜚 . NANAMI KENTO

people always tell you to never get excited over small things, but you couldn't help it — the slightest things made you really happy, but at the same time, the slightest things made you sad as well.

i'm sorry, can't come to the exhibit. something came up, i'll try to swing by next time y/n! maybe next year? sorry :(

you read the text over and over again. this should be fine, (friend) was probably just busy with their day so they couldn't drop by — no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it was fine. you didn't feel like it. they promised.

"i'm sorry i'm late, y/n."

turning around to look at the source of the voice, there stood your boyfriend. sweat dribbling down the side of his face, hair disheveled with shallow and rapid breaths. he looked like he just ran a marathon.

"kento? i thought you couldn't make it—"

nanami shook his head, "i made time for you, i will always make time for you," he gave you a small smile.

"you're not late, just in time actually," you switched your phone off, shoving it inside the back pocket of your jeans, "thank you for coming for me."

he wiped his sweat, standing up straight, stepping towards you, "where are your friends? they should be here now, are they not?"

the corner of your lips tugged downwards. it was embarrassing as it is, and now you had to tell him that they weren't coming. it's like a slap to the face, "um . . . they aren't coming. something came up, and i guess they couldn't come."

nanami's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he said nothing. his hand reached out for yours, giving it a slight squeeze, "spend the rest of your day with me?"

you blinked, "how about work?"

"don't worry about my work, you come first, understood?" he brushed his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

𝜗𝜚 . ITADORI YUUJI

maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics made you a better person. maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics pushed you to do better — like a cry for attention. but for some apparent reason, they never seemed to be satisfied with what you're doing.

"art brings you no good, what are you going to be? an artist? do you know how much they earn a year?"

don't be an artist this. don't be an artist that. it was pretty expected that your invitation for them was discarded with no thoughts behind. hell, they didn't even spare it a glance.

and yet, the little girl in you still hoped that they'd show up — even just for a while.

they didn't, it should be obvious. you saw it coming, but it still hurts anyways. however, itadori yuuji showed up; and he was like a ball of sunshine, so you couldn't help but to be happy as well. especially with how packed his schedule is, he still made the time to stop by.

"baby!"

"yuuji!"

he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug, carrying you around with ease, "sorry i came a little late, kugisaki needed me to bring her shopping bags back to the cab. where are your parents? they should be here, right?"

right. they should have.

"no, they didn't come," you murmured into the crook of his neck before pulling your head back with a sad smile plastered to your face, "but i'm okay, you're here now!"

yuuji puckered his lips out slightly, "i'm going to pester gojo-sensei to let me off for the rest of the day, i need to be here with you."

you shake your head, "you can't, what if you have a mission?"

"fushiguro can take over, pretty. don't worry about my missions," yuuji replied, nuzzling his nose to the side of your face, "plus, how can i leave you alone here, huh?"

"you're the sweetest, yuuji. but what if it's an important mission?" you pinched his cheeks gently, pulling them.

"fushiguro can take over, he's strong. and there's kugisaki, and the second year students. they'll manage," he retorted, pecking your cheek before letting you down.

"you're too nice, yuuji."

"i love you. and show me your works, i can't wait to see them, you know? kugisaki wanted pictures!"

© churipu 2024 , do not copy or repost anywhere

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori fluff #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (4)

(1) (2) (3)

Palestine: what can you do

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.

In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them. 

You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.

Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out. 

Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse. 

Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible. 

Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds. 

At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you. 

“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace. 

Abby growls louder. 

“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”

Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down. 

“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility. 

This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.  

“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again. 

You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.

“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”

Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her. 

“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses. 

“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”

You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck! 

The wolf stomps after you.

“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf. 

“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.

“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her. 

But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back. 

“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”

“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.

“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it  makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.

For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath. 

“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face. 

The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you. 

Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before. 

Well. She can play nice too. 

“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!

You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces. 

It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation. 

“You didn't have tattoos before.” 

You smirk sadly. 

“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”

How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?

“So you still do deals.” 

“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”

“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”

“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”

“I heal fast.”

“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”

Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?

“How far is too far?” 

“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”

Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you. 

You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away. 

It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)

You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all. 

“It's bad.” You laugh. 

“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”

You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad. 

(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life). 

“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”

“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous. 

“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.” 

Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it. 

“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”

“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute. 

“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer. 

Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried. 

“Do you have any meat?”

“...No.”

“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes. 

“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.” 

That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo. 

“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.  

You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.

After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes. 

She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now. 

You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you. 

“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”

Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her? 

“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?

“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.” 

“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.

“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”

Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad. 

“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way. 

“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”

Abby hums, thinking it over.

“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”

“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return. 

The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous. 

The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house. 

“Why don't you use wood like normal people?” 

“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.” 

Abby huffs. 

“So you rely on your magic all the time.”

“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan. 

Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night. 

You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised. 

You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #alpha!abby #moon peppers

[tj-dragonblade]

I SEE YOU HAVE A TAKE ON MER HOB MAY I HEAR ABOUT MER HOB

YOU ABSOLUTELY MAY, even if it took me longer to respond than intended, oops. But! Mer-Hob is slowly turning into a different fic than originally imagined last year. Which is fine, and good, because what I'd originally imagined just wasn't working. I think I can confidently place him back on the wip list now with a better idea of the shape he'll have moving forward. And for you, thank you for your patience, here is their freshly-drafted first kiss scene:

"Dream?"

Dream glances to where Hob sits beside him, tail fin drifting idly in the water near Dream's bare feet. Dream had brought chocolate, again; the delight Hob had displayed the first two times was something he wanted to see again, and again, and again. He wanted to find every way possible to bring joy to Hob, to make that warm smile light up, to bring his laughter bubbling forth.

The chocolate has been finished, though, and Hob sounds…tentative; Dream's brow creases. "Yes?"

"I've got a question for you. Or. Well. Not so much a question, as something I'd like to tell you." He's tilted his head slightly, is toying with the lowest spine of his ear-fin. "It's. It's—I've been trying to tell you, like I would another mer, but I don't think you get it. And why would you, culturally, you've got no way to know if I don't explain it first right? So I thought, maybe I should just. Try it the human way?"

Dream is perplexed, not sure he entirely follows what Hob is trying to say, but then Hob is leaning closer, leaning in, as if he means to—

His lips touch Dream's, and Dream's heart stops as his brain catches up. Hob. Is kissing him—

Except it's not exactly a kiss, has none of the common elements aside from two pairs of lips in contact; Hob is very still, holding that touch for another instant, and then he pulls back.

Dream's heart thuds in his chest, tripping faster; he can feel how wide his eyes are and how his mouth has fallen slightly open, but all he can see is the hopeful uncertainty in the warm depthless brown of Hob's eyes.

"I'm sorry if I didn't do it right. But a kiss is how you say you like someone, right?"

"I. Yes." Dream is drowning in the instant-replay inside his own brain. Hob. Had kissed him. Hob had kissed him. Hob had kissed him—

"Well. I like you. And I think maybe…maybe you might um. Like me too?"

Dream manages a nod. "Mmhm." His heart is racing.

"Well!" Hob looks delighted if still nervous, and his tail flicks up in the water with a splash. "That's good, then! Brilliant! Okay!" He smiles, all warmth and happy energy. "Okay."

"Merfolk do not kiss, then?" Dream is slowly processing, still catching up, still circling helplessly around the bright spot of Hob kissed me, Hob LIKES me.

"Not many, nope. And I've never. But I've seen enough humans and human stuff to get the idea. Did I do it right?"

"Right enough. However." Boldness surges up in Dream, riding the bubbling tide of joy curling higher within his chest. "Can I. May I show you, what observation alone does not perhaps convey?"

"Of course," Hob says, curiosity in the tilt of his eyebrows, and Dream leans in.

It's soft, sweet; he fits his lips gently to Hob's and presses, brushes them together and apart and together again, aching with the fulfillment of this long-held wish. He is kissing. Hob. And Hob is kissing back, tentatively matching the movement of Dream's mouth on his, and Dream is dizzy with it. His hands yearn to hold, to touch; he brings one up and lets his fingertips flutter lightly to rest on Hob's cheek, away from the delicate spread of his ear-fin, away from the curve of his neck where his gills are tightly sealed. And when Hob reaches carefully to touch him in kind, Dream's heart soars.

A long moment passes before he ends the kiss at last; he draws back just enough to see, to watch Hob's eyes blink slowly open.

"Oh," Hob breathes, voice full of softness and wonder, and his beautiful eyes shine warm with the same.

~ Mer-Hob wip tag for the other recent chunk and some older little bits that may just wind up orphaned

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: merhob #merfolk

[pukanavis]

Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1

ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.

Fuyume: Excuse me?

Are there any fairy tales here…?

Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?

Thank you for your help.

~...♪

(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)

(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)

(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)

(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)

(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)

(This story is another one that Yume adores.)

(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)

…♪

Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?

You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.

Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?

How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?

Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?

That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.

Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪

Huh? That’s not the issue?

Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.

Here he was thinking you were a nice person.

Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.

And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?

You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 

Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪

Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?

It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.

Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪

What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪

If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.

Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.

…♪

Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?

Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.

Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 

Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 

Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?

—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”

Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.

Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.

In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.

It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪

The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.

After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—

With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—

Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.

Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.

After everything, the final wish she makes is—

Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!

Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.

At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—

Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.

After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.

You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?

Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.

—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”

During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 

Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.

For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.

Huh? Does Yume love Esu?

It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.

But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.

—The amethyst already shattered long ago.

#Fuyume Hanamura #enstars translation #Ensemble Stars #4piece

[shares-a-vest]

Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares

Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling

Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!

“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.

“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.

Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.

... But not really.

Like, at all.

He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.

Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.

So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.

It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.

It’s just a shirt.

A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.

One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.

It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.

They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.

He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.

The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!

And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.

Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.

The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.

It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.

Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.

He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.

“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.

“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”

He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.

The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.

He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.

“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.

“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”

He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.

And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.

“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.

Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.

He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.

And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.

It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.

It’s perfect.

Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.

Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed some more.

Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.

It’s just the he –

“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 

His eyes blow wide in an instant.

And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.

Steve loves him?

Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.

All because of one perfect t-shirt.

Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.

“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.

“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.

He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.

Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.

They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.

Like it is already worn in and loved.

He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.

But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.

“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.

He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.

Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.

He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.

But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.

“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”

“You do?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.

And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.

They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.

“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.

Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.

“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.

He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.

Relaxed.

Loved.

Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.

But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.

It’s good like this.

Calm. Warm.

Soft.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #healing steddie #stranger things s4 #lily writes a fic #fluff and angst #cw injury #steddie fanfiction

[panlight]

The discussions around Bella's choice to become a vampire are always so interesting to me, as it's usually centered around how she should have the agency to live and choose the life she wants for herself and like, of course.

But . . . the life she is choosing is vampirism. It's not about whether she's going to college or not, getting married or not, having children or not. She's actively choosing to become a supernatural creature whose intended prey is human beings. Sure, she ends up being instantly amazing at NOT killing people, but she had no way to know that. Statistically, the odds were not in her favor. This choice she is making was potentially putting humans at risk for eternity. That, to my mind, removes it from being a morally neutral decision about living the best life for herself.

Even the narrative itself doesn't give a whole lot of weight to the morality/ethics of making this choice. It's much more about the things Bella will give up (most of which she doesn't even end up having to give up, although she didn't know that), and a little about how upset it would make Charlie for her to disappear. Bella approaches the idea that she might kill people with humor, ("I guess I could throw in a few extra homicides, if it makes Jasper happy. Why not?" and "does this screw my total?") which could very well be a coping mechanism. But you never really feel the WEIGHT of it; it's like since SM knew Bella was going to be a perfect vampire it wasn't really worth wringing one's hands about. Even Edward is more worried about Bella's soul and whether she will be unhappy as a vampire like Rosalie, and not like, "what if you become a ravenous killing machine?" And maybe it wouldn't matter that much if Bella were presented as something other than this uncommonly selfless and Good person, but since she is, you'd think "oh God what if I accidentally murder Charlie or Mike or Jessica?" would keep her up at night. But she just trusts that Edward/the Cullens will stop her from eating people and that's kind of the end of it.

And AGAIN, yes I know it's really a romance and it was telegraphed pretty strongly that Bella wasn't going to become a people-eating menace and this is no doubt just me coming at everything from the Vampire Story angle again but, IDK. Always feels weird to me when potential future murders aren't a factor when discussing Bella's choices, that it's just treated as choosing any other life path. Then again, her romance with Edward has a body count even before she becomes a vampire, so what's a few more?

[lesbianphan]

I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #(lmao soz) #Dan Howell #We're all doomed #WAD #amazingphil #Phil Lester #Dan and Phil #phan #dnp #sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha #amanda yaps #personal

[barbwritesstuff]

Pls don't feel bad about the time skips! I read ppl complaining on the forum but I think they miss the point of TT.

It's meant to show how much of a curse vampirism actually is. Like no matter how much you try to keep your humanity, you are functioning on a completely different wavelength as humans and one thing that encapsulates it are the time skips. You can't have a non vampire partner or child and expect a happy ending, one distraction or something gone wrong and you lose a decent chunk out of their lives without realizing. It's a story meant to lack agency! Being a vampire in your world is only meant to end three ways: being hunted, starved, or walking into the sun. And most probably utterly alone.

Writing is a learning curve that never stops curvin'. And, to be clear, that's something I really like about writing. I really enjoy trying new things and getting feedback on readers on whether or not those things worked.

I didn't expect the time skips to be contentious, but I can understand why some people don't like them.

They feel like they remove agency in a choice based game. That's a very real critique that I totally understand.

Unfortunately, they've been baked into the narrative from the start. I always planned on Thicker Than to take place over a decade (actually, originally it was 13 years, but I shortened it to a decade to show a tiny wee bit of mercy to the human ROs) and the time skips are the only real way to do that.

The time skips make sense for me because they show how vampires change over time. The player gets to level up their powers and becomes more a part of the undead world.

A just resurrected fledgling is not going to be the same creature as a ten-years-dead vampire. And while you're still very young, it makes the final showdowns a little more probable.

The player's character isn't a total noob by the end of the game.

I've tried to brainstorm some ways to smooth over the transitions, but the truth is, they're already pretty much as good as I can make them. So I hope those that don't like the time skips aren't too put off by them.

[firenati0n]

several sentence sunday <3 :)

hello friends :) thank you to @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead @indestructibleheart

@thedramasummer @onthewaytosomewhere @cricketnationrise @ninzied @sophie1973

@cha-melodius @orchidscript @sparklepocalypse @kiwiana-writes @tailsbeth-writes

@theprinceandagcd @hgejfmw-hgejhsf for the tags :) :) i finally have some sentences. i have been struggling a lot with reading and writing recently. so, I'm writing something that makes me happy to bring the juice back.

here is a peep at angel!henry sequel. because honestly, writing him experiencing joy at small human things is helping me recalibrate myself and find my own tiny joys. i am doing this for me. it is a love letter to humanity from me to you, but also a reminder to myself

The Victoria & Albert museum is lively today. Henry hasn’t been back to the Cast Courts since he last visited in his time of need, the heaviest he had ever felt, his whole being sagging under the weight of the world’s pain he elected to shoulder. If he stares hard enough, he can almost see a shadow of his former self staring up at Trajan’s Column, can almost run his fingers across the desperation written all over his face as he seeks comfort in Civitali’s angels; his hands clasped and cold and pleading.   Now, his hands are warm, nestled in Alex’s palms, calloused fingertips absentmindedly running over Henry’s knuckles. It makes Henry feel grounded, tethered to a reality he never thought he deserved, but has manifested nonetheless.  He takes in the statues with a new perspective, a newfound respect. Yes, they endured. Yes, they were seen, and they were loved.  But now, Henry is too. Seen and loved, in the way that matters, with an end in sight. Henry’s never been happier to reject eternity. 

xoxo roop

+ tags under the cut and open tag as always <3

@priincebutt @rmd-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @blueeyedgrlwrites

@getmehighonmagic @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @captainjunglegym @duchessdepolignaca03 @porcelainmortal

@orchidscript @myheartalivewrites @dumbpeachjuice @anchoredarchangel @nocoastposts

@wordsofhoneydew @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes

@onward--upward @celeritas2997 @inexplicablymine @affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit

@14carrotghoul @cultofsappho @alasse9 @nontoxic-writes @piratefalls

@ships-to-sail @itsmaybitheway @adreamareads

#roop writes #several sentence sunday #fic: angel!henry 2 #idk y'all things have been just Not Great in the house and i have been floating through today very numb and quiet #and i am forcing myself to post this for accountability #but also dopamine #just waiting to exhale if that makes sense. i feel like i have been holding my breath for so long in wait of something that won't come #angel henry in the cast courts is autobiographical #i remember standing there last year feeling so untethered #and hoping i would open my eyes to some kind of answer or push #turns out that's not how it works! #so now henry gets to find answers and happiness #because it is what he deserves #but it is also what i deserve

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 4

A Prayer in the Prospect of Death

Summary: The years pass and you find out how Simon feels about you before a familiar face arrives. Words: 2.8k

Parts: 1 2 3 4

“Tell me luv.”

Simon had his fingers tucked under your chin to tilt your head up so you could no longer easily hide. Urgh he was so bloody perceptive. 

“It’s silly.”

“You’re always silly, now tell me.”

You fought the urge to blow a raspberry at him. He was truly the most stubbornly protective human you had ever met and he never just let things go if you said it was fine. He always knew when something was bothering you despite your attempts to hide it. 

“What am I supposed to do when Joey starts nursery?”

You sighed and dropped any attempt to hide how miserable the thought made you. When you and Johnny had gotten married you had decided that you’d be a stay at home mum. You didn’t have a career you were attached to and Johnny made enough to support the household. Honestly you had come to enjoy it in the last year. You decorated your home for every holiday, experimented in the kitchen until you were actually a very good home cook and baker, always felt safe and content with how well you knew your own space and how cosy and clean you kept it. 

It was never how you imagined yourself if you were honest, a homemaker. The idea of you actually sort of enjoying cleaning would have made you feel somewhat ill 5 years ago. But now you were in your own home with a toddler you loved to death and, though you often were reluctant to admit it out loud, a man you loved to death. You had been front and centre for all of Joey’s firsts and you wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

Simon missed his first steps. Johnny had been fine doing video calls while he was on base during off hours, but you didn’t even have the number of Simon’s work phone. It used to frustrate you that it felt like he didn’t even exist the moment he left for work, but he had spoken about his family on your first Christmas together and it made you understand. He would never carry anything on him as the Ghost that could link back to you, even in the relative safety of the base during downtime. 

Now Joey would be out of the house for most of the day. You could have waited, not sent him to nursery and just kept him home until school, but you knew it would be for your sake rather than his. He loved being around other kids and some of the friends he had made from you taking him to every toddler group in the area in an attempt to be a good mother would be starting nursery as well. 

Could you just do nothing all day? Between Johnny’s insurance and death in service benefits and Simon insisting on funnelling money in, you could certainly afford it now, but it felt so wrong when Johnny was dead and Simon was doing the exact job that had killed him.

“What do you mean? You do the same as you do right now if you’re still happy doing it but without him.”

“Lounge around and do nothing while you are out risking your life you mean.”

Simon considered, always careful to think the situation through rather than reply impulsively. He was annoyed with himself for not seeing sooner that you were undervaluing yourself, only considering taking care of Joey which was a full time job in itself as contributing. While it had been a source of bitter guilt in the beginning, he had started to forget how much younger you were than him. He really should have seen it, no woman in her early 20s saw her full worth. 

“Princess, you decorated this whole house while I was deployed and you’re the one that fixes things or organises for them to be fixed when they break. You cook almost all our meals from scratch and then make extra to donate to the community kitchen. The garden is immaculate because you follow the planting plan you made yourself and are out there doing maintenance every day. You do not now nor have you ever lounged about doing nothing, even if I would like it if you did.”

He already felt bad enough about it. When he was home he threw himself in, tried to take as much off of you as possible even when he was nowhere near as fast or good at things. If anything he was contributing nowhere near enough money to cover all the full time jobs you were gracefully juggling (only because it had already been a fight to accept any money at all, he gave you what you accepted and then put almost the rest of his pay into an account for Joey).

“Shut up!” you whined, battering fists against his chest as your face flamed. 

You had lived together now for just around 3 years. You had been intimately involved for 2. It still absolutely floored you when he was nice to you and made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was so ridiculous to feel like some wide eyed teen with a crush when it came to this idiot. Unfortunately his favourite hobby was fucking with you when you were taken off guard like this.

“Aww baby girl, you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me and Joe don’t you? We’d fall apart without you beautiful” he said in a smooth rumble, peppering kisses across your cheeks and down your neck. 

It wasn’t fair that he could just tease you with a version of him that adored you. A version that you enjoyed even if you didn’t really think it was real. Sure there had been a maybe ‘I love you’ years ago after all that sexual tension broke and he seemed to be happy enough, but you could only imagine that if he ever knew how you felt about him he would run. The last 3 years you had fought at every turn to protect your heart, but you had stopped denying at least to yourself that it was pathetically his now.  

“Don’t do that.”

“You don’t want praise and kisses?”

He raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a small smile. You loved praised and kisses, he knew that because in the bedroom he could use that to turn you into a pile of obedient princess who did whatever he said if it would earn you his adulation. But it was just sex wasn’t it? 

“I don’t want you to pretend.”

He was confused by that and you wanted to sink into the floor to avoid this conversation. You had been avoiding it for a while now. 

“I… fuck. Simon, I don’t- it’s not just sex to me” you choked out, not sure how to put it into words without straight out admitting that you were hopelessly in love with him and wanted him in you and J’s lives permanently. 

“Christ, you pretty little idiot” he growled, grabbing your face roughly in his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you. I’m not Johnny, I don’t do big romantic gestures. I’m not the kind of man to tell you all the time how I feel. I’m the kind of man who is a selfish bastard because I don’t give a fuck if you deserve someone who does. You are mine. You have been for years. Do you understand me?”

You could only blink wide-eyed as your brain tried to catch up with the whole world restarting itself after the shock.  

“Do you understand me?” he snapped. 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl… wanna get married?”

You stuttered out an outraged shout, feeling the tears that had been building drying up at the audacity of this man. 

“Johnny took me to the cabin. He made me a replica of the first dinner we had together and set the table outside during the sunset. He organised for fireworks!”

“Told you I don’t do romantic gestures.”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine, let’s get married Casper. You’re the fucking worst.”

“Don’t I know it princess. I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Then I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Yes you bloody well are!”

“Wanna bet?!”

-

He did not wear a tie, but Joey did. Your dress was beautiful. Gaz officiated your wedding for the second time. Price said there was an emergency so he couldn’t make it - you weren’t really sure you believed him.

-

As you cleared up after the whirlwind that was breakfast in a house with a 9 year old late for school, you sighed and stuck on a heat patch. You were starting to wonder if being off birth control was maybe a little pointless because in the past 18 months it had only reminded you how much you hated periods after years of them being gone as a useful side effect.

It had been something you were speaking about since you got married. You had always wanted more kids. Simon had never even expected he’d have one. You were terrified of a repeat of your first pregnancy, he was terrified that his genes were poisonous. You had enough money with his hefty pay and your small business (you had started it up soon after Joey had started nursery and you got a lot of orders for events, birthdays and weddings for sets of biscuits. You imagined wherever Johnny was he was howling with laughter that you had turned into a home baker after all the kitchen disasters he had seen). 

In the end it had been Joseph who made the decision. One shrugged mention of how he thought it’d be nice to have a little sibling and that was that. There was not one thing in the whole wide world you and Simon would not give him if it was in your power. Although you were starting to think it wasn’t in your power at all. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t have an active sex life and in honesty it had only gotten more active from the breeding kink Simon had uncovered as soon as it was a possibility. But it just hadn’t happened. 

You wondered if it was better that it hadn’t, at least until Joey was 10. That was when you had agreed you would tell him everything. On advice of a psychologist you had told him that Simon wasn’t his biological father very early on, as early as he could understand the concept, although stressed he was still his dad. The only thing you mentioned about his biological father was that he had died even though that was very much against the psychologists advice, she had said to tell him everything about Johnny.

But in 4 months he would turn 10 and he knew that you would answer his questions then. It was shitty of the two of you really, to hide Johnny until now. Joey’s grandmother still saw him, but she never talked about her son or who he was. It was cowardice. Simon had been speaking with a therapist for years about how to let go of the idea that Johnny died because he couldn’t save him. You felt ill at the idea of your son knowing you had married his dead father’s best friend. Both of you were so scared of Johnny’s ghost that you kept him from his son for nearly a decade. 

Well sort of. Joey knew who Johnny was, just not that he was his father. There were photos of him in the house. Whenever Gaz, Price and their partner (that had been a whole drama, but you were happy the three of them finally worked it out) were around, sometimes they would reminisce about him. Well Gaz and Simon did, Price would just look pained and excuse himself to get a drink.

You could only hope that Joey wouldn’t hate you, but then he was such a great kid. A little wild, but incredibly kind and empathetic beyond his years. He had Johnny’s eyes. You thought that he’d understand when you explained it all. Maybe he’d yell at you for thinking he would blame you for falling in love with his dad, but he’d understand. 

You focused on cleaning up and getting the kitchen back clean and cosy how you liked it, deciding not to borrow worries from the future.

–

Price had told him to settle his arse down in the base and let him travel down and talk to him before he went anywhere. Johnny ignored him. He had just saved the fucking world, there was not one thing that was going to keep him from his wife and child one second longer.

He had debriefed already, been medically cleared to leave. He knew the paperwork was going to be horrendous given that he was legally dead, but frankly he’d leave it for the intelligence agencies to deal with given how much of a big bloody favour he had just done them. He got your address off of them given that Price hadn’t given it to him, just telling him to wait until he got there. Fuck that.

It didn’t take too long to get himself there. It was oddly comforting hearing all the English accents after a decade of hearing almost entirely Russian even if he’d be moving your pretty arse back North of the border as soon as he could. Not a chance was his family living in Carlisle. He wondered why you would move that far from the Highlands where his family was. You had always been no contact with your own family, maybe you had reconciled with them and moved to be closer? 

He would find out. Whatever it was he’d support you. God he loved you, he had missed you so fucking much. He had imagined the reunion for years, thought of your smile and your laugh when he needed to remind himself what he was fighting for, thought of your soft skin and tight pussy when he needed to relieve some tension with his right hand. Whenever he sent up a prayer in the prospect of death, it was for you that he prayed he would survive.

He thought of how he’d hold you for days when he got back. He knew you would have raised a wonderful son and he could not wait to meet the person he had become. He’d hold him as well, spend days cuddled up and watching movies with his family. 

And then he’d take you to the cabin and lose himself in your body. Fuck it was strange to think he’d have to consider it wasn’t just you two anymore. He didn’t want to lose any time with his son, but he needed alone time with you as well. He’d work it out. 

The house was nice, sort of quaint with the pretty flowers both real and painted on the door. It hurt knowing if he hadn’t been away you’d have something bigger. You would have had to for a growing family. 

He wished he had stopped and gotten a change of clothes and a haircut. He was in military issued sweats and a hoodie and his hair had grown out to curl around his ears. He really should have shaved as well, a task he hadn’t had time for in the chaos of the last few months. But fuck it, he was here and he couldn’t wait. 

It was almost like an out of body experience knocking on the door, knowing he was seconds away from you. He should have realised that there was another person around who could answer the door, but he hadn’t been thinking. The Joseph he knew was a tiny baby, not a bright eyed kid with a toothy grin in a football strip (a bloody Man U strip at that, Johnny just knew his uncle Simon would have had a hand in that and it made him grin knowing his best friend was still in his son’s life).

“Ye got big!” he belted, excited beyond proper introductions at seeing his son. 

The kid furrowed his brows for a moment before he brightened with recognition. Johnny assumed now was about the time for crying and yelling and hugging. He was unprepared for the alternative. 

“I know you! You’re dad’s Sergeant! I thought you died.”

His heart lurched, putting the dots together well before his brain could. 

“Joe hurry it up! We’ll miss kick-off!”

Johnny knew that voice. It was not yours. 

“I’m ready!”

“You better be! Right, who’s at the door then?”

The voice got closer and even though he wanted to run Johnny was rooted to the spot. It felt like the next 10 seconds as the footsteps and voice came closer was hours. The door swung wider open as a hand pulled on it from behind and then he was looking into the eyes of Simon Riley. The silence was deafening until Johnny broke it.

“What the fuck did you do Si!”

#mhairiwrites #cod #soap x reader #ghost x reader

[yanderes-galore]

i love the way you write yandere mettaton and yandere mettaton fans have been starved for new writings (maybe idk) may i request yandere-daze prompts 8, 11, and maybe 2? i feel like it makes sense idk potential plot: after showing you off to the world as mettaton usually does, a fan gets a lil too close for comfort (could be a friend or a random monster/human) and mettaton has no choice BUT to take action, and poor darling takes it harshly, before eventually getting dragged off somewhere else where mettaton an darling can have a moment of peace. ofc, not without a fight. ya you can use the plot if you want or go nuts, i'll be happy either way /pos

I can try, sure :) Hope I get the vibe of clingy Mettaton right.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Mettaton Prompts 8, 11, 2

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

"You think I’m a monster? You’re the one that made me like this!”

“Please pay attention to me!”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Isolation, Controlling behavior, Implied abuse of power, Heavily manipulative behavior, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship implied.

Ever since monsters returned to the surface, Mettaton has been putting on shows for monsters and humans alike. Of course, he hasn't done it alone. He has you, his beloved co-star, right by his side on every performance.

Many knew you two as a duo, be it on talk shows or concerts. You two were closely linked and had fans of all sorts. There was just one rule when it came to you.

Don't touch.

Mettaton took such a rule seriously. Others could look, talk, and admire you. However... only Mettaton could hold you. This was a rule Mettaton often enforced during shows.

You can look... but you can't touch.

Mettaton adored you during the performances you both shared. He's easily jealous, sure, but in the end he knows you belong to him. At least... he thought that.

Mettaton's eye nearly twitched when he saw you speaking with a fan. His glowing eyes stare as you smile and laugh with them. He tells himself you're just being polite.

Anything for the fans, right?

Perhaps you know them! Yes, they must just be a friend.... He can allow friends, can't he? Why is he still so irritated?

Then he sees you hug them....

No. Touching.

"Sorry, Darlings!" The robot coos, stepping over to you and scooping you against his waist. "Me and my little co-star have to go! It was wonderful to see you!"

It's then Mettaton escorts you away from the large crowd. He keeps you close to him, metallic hands gripping you tightly. You struggle to keep up with him, the star not answering until he pulls you into the dressing room.

"Darling..." Mettaton coos, glowing eyes glaring down at you. "What was THAT?"

"I was greeting someone I knew? They were congratulating me for becoming famous!" You shoot back, Mettaton grimacing in response.

"Whatever happened to our rule? No one touches you but me! No exceptions." Mettaton huffs, the sound coming out like air from a vent. "After all, then everyone would ask to touch you... and I hate sharing."

"You're getting angry over nothing." You try to reason, but Mettaton refuses to listen.

"Nothing? Then surely it shouldn't be hard to cut that person off, no?" Mettaton seethes. "Surely you can do that for me?"

"You don't get to control me because we work with each other." You frown, Mettaton's eyes twitching in irritation. "They're a friend!"

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Darling!” Mettaton sighs, strolling over to you. "Cut them off... or I'll do it for you."

"What is wrong with you!?" You fight back. "I thought you were just protective... but this is something else entirely."

"What's wrong, Darling?" Mettaton hums, seeing you back away from him. "Scared of me?"

You wouldn't want to admit it, but in this moment you agree. You are scared of him. You're scared of him because he's not usually this... Jealous? Possessive?

"You think I’m a monster?" Mettaton chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as he corners you near a wall. His gaze turns a dull pink before he leans closer. "You’re the one that made me like this!”

Mettaton watches you as you shudder. You stare up at him with fear in your eyes. The sight makes Mettaton hesitate... but he can't deny the fact he feels excited.

"Now, don't look away from me..." Mettaton whispers, watching you try to avoid eye contact once he leans in. "You know I want your attention more than anything else, right?"

Mettaton frowns when he watches you shake. His metal fingers caress your face softly. It's an attempt to comfort you... yet also to steal back your attention.

"Aww, baby, I'm sorry..." Mettaton hums, "You just make me so jealous sometimes... Please pay attention to me, Darling!”

You try your best to reason, but it seems you can't with the delusional robot. Before anything else happens, thankfully, you're interrupted. The door knocks and Mettaton shoots up in shock.

"Y-You two okay in t-there?" Alphys calls through the door. You sigh in relief as Mettaton looks upset he was interrupted. With an irritated noise, Mettaton answers.

"Of course, dear! We'll be out now~!" Mettaton answers in a cheery tone, dragging you once again to follow him outside.

You're lucky you were interrupted when you were...

Who knows what he had planned if Alphys wasn't worried.

#yandere undertale #yandere mettaton #yandere mettaton ex

[anangelcanonlygosofar]

Why Did So Many People Hate Aziraphale?

When the ending of Season 2 happened the majority of the fandom lost their collective shit. They went utterly bananas. A main theme that I kept coming across was the strange and insulting sentiment that Aziraphale "rejected Crowley" or that Aziraphale "chose heaven over Crowley" or that Aziraphale "Was an arse for leaving Cowley", etc.

When I finally got around to rewatching Season 1 of Good Omens and then watched Season 2 of Good Omens and finally saw some context for the ending, I was/am even more baffled as to why people were so cruel to Aziraphale.

Why had they failed to hear what Aziraphale said to Crowley? Why hadn't anyone taken a moment to realize that Aziraphale respected Crowley's choice to not return to Heaven with him? Why did the collective fandom just completely ignore the WORDS, ACTIONS, and EMOTIONAL RESPONSES that Aziraphale expressed in the heartbreaking finale?

Maybe it was the simple fact they just couldn't cope with what they saw. Maybe the fandom needed someone to blame other than Neil Gaiman himself. Or maybe, the fandom just failed to take a moment to carefully comb through and observe the small, tiny details that are far more important than the big, dramatic moments that fill up the runtime.

However, what I noticed most is the total disregard for Aziraphale's lines in the last scene between Crowley and Aziraphale in season 2 episode 6. So this is where I'll Start.

HE WORDS:

Some of his dialogue was/are as follows:

"He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything, like the old times. Only, even nicer."

"But Heaven...well, it's the side of truth, of light, of good"

"Come with me...to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference"

"Crowley, come back, to heaven! Work with me! We can be together! Angels..doing good!"

"I...I need You!"

"I...I forgive you"

Do these lines of dialogue give any indication that he rejected Crowley, or chose Heaven over Crowley, or that Aziraphales was being an arse?

No, they do not. These lines of dialogue clearly show that Aziraphale WANTS to be with Crowley so they BOTH can be angels DOING GOOD and MAKING A DIFFERENCE. Aziraphale wanted Crowley to be redeemed so that he could join Aziraphale in Heaven and be on the side of TRUTH, LIGHT, and GOOD.

Aziraphale didn't want to leave Earth WITHOUT Crowley, however, he was forced to because Crowley rejected AZIRAPHALE'S offer to come back to heaven. So instead of forcing Crowley to come back to Heaven with him, even after the awkward kiss, Aziraphale decided to let him go and sacrificed his happiness to SAVE THE WORLD FROM HEAVEN!!!!

It was not easy for Aziraphale to leave Crowley or even Earth or even his bookshop. HE sacrificed EVERYTHING so he could fix heaven's broken system and stop God and the Angels and Metatron from repeatedly trying to destroy the Earth just to win a dick-measuring contest with hell.

Aziraphale doesn't like war. He despises war due to witnessing the rebellion in heaven AND watching the humans go to war and kill each other repeatedly for over 6,000 YEARS. What Aziraphale did was something nobody will ever be able to understand until they find themselves in Aziraphale's shoes.

It's not easy being an angel, who has been forced to "bear witness" and "not intervene in human affairs" because doing so will go against God's "Great Plan" which may or may not be a part of God's "Ineffable Plan".

Aziraphale cannot stand by and let Heaven destroy all life on Earth. Of course, he knows that Heaven isn't all truth, light, or good. He knows Heaven is broken and needs to be reformed. He knows that Crowley is right about Heaven being toxic. Just because he knows that Heaven is toxic and not as truthful, enlightened, or good doesn't mean he's not somewhat in denial.

It's not easy being trapped and suffocated by a cult-like institution whose sole purpose is to keep you from leaving the said institution. It's not easy watching humans committing atrocity after atrocity, and not being able to stop it. It's not easy watching God kill innocent people and children just because they can't get along.

Aziraphale has struggled to figure out what, "doing the right thing" is and how far he's willing to go along Heaven's/God's plans of destruction until he just can't anymore. All Aziraphale has had to keep him going along with Heaven's/God's plans is his faith that Heaven/God knows what they're doing and that complete destruction and devastation will never truly come to pass. Only to find out later that Heaven and God don't necessarily see eye to eye and that God themselves are super unreachable, even in a time of crisis.

Aziraphale has done EVERYTHING he was told and more and it still wasn't enough to keep another armageddon from happening. Since he can't completely stop it on earth, he HAS to return to heaven and find a way to stop it from happening from there, which may prove fruitful and pointless.

What most fans didn't register or realize is the fact that Aziraphale chose to return to heaven for very UNSELFISH reasons. A part of him knew Crowley might say no to returning to heaven with him, so he decided that if that was the case, then he would let Crowley go, so that he, Aziraphale, could fix heaven and permanently SAVE THE WORLD... something he CANNOT do if he stayed on Earth.

Why is this so hard for some fans to see and/or consider? Why is this something only a few fans actually talk about? Why was there so much Aziraphale hate when there shouldn't have been?

It's not Aziraphale's fault that he couldn't stay with Crowley. It's HEAVEN'S fault that Crowley and Aziraphale can't be together because they (Heaven) are too war-minded and emotionally stunted to realize how many innocent people will die just because they want to measure dicks with Hell.

HIS ACTIONS:

The second thing I noticed happened a lot was the initial total disregard for Azirphale's body language and/or actions during the last scene of Crowley and Aziraphale in the final episode of Good Omen Season 2.

Throughout the scene, we see Aziraphale exhibit the following nonverbal cues:

---initial happiness

---confusion

---Distress

---Anxiousness

---restless hand movements

---pacing back and forth

---sadly looking around the bookshop

--etc.

These nonverbal cues show us that Aziraphale went from being extremely happy to an emotional wreck, especially after the awkward kiss.

Aziraphale excitedly told Crowley about his promotion expecting Crowley to be happy for him (Aziraphale), only for Crowley to grow irritable and angry. Which confused Aziraphale and slightly angered him, yet he still somewhat understood Crowley's response.

As the scene goes on you can tell that Aziraphale is desperately trying to keep Crowley from leaving at first, but relents after the awkward kiss and fully accepts he lost Crowley for now.

Aziraphale really wanted Crowley to say "yes", however, it did not pan out that way. So Aziraphale just gradually quieted down, shorted his verbal communication, and tried his best NOT to have a complete emotional breakdown in front of Crowley.

Not once did Azirphale exhibit any controlling behaviors or actions. When Aziraphale and Crowley came to an impasse and Crowley ultimately left, Aziraphale didn't even go after Crowley. He let Crowley go because going back to heaven to fix it and stop the second Armageddon was more important than fixing his relationship with Crowley, and because Aziraphale knew that when everything calmed down, and the 2nd coming was adverted, and there were no more threats then maybe he would be able to have a proper long talk with Crowley and explain why he did what he did and said what he said.

HIS EMOTIONAL RESPONSES:

Some fans also didn't really register how many emotional responses Aziraphale had in the last scene with Crowley in the season 2 finale.

Aziraphale went from ecstatic and happy to confused and slightly angry, to confused, overwhelmed, and heartbroken.

He started the scene excited and ecstatic about his job promotion and he was nearly exploding with joy when he initially told Crowley the "good" news. Only to become confused and a little angry that Crowley didn't seem happy for him and flat-out yelled at him.

At first, Aziraphale is stubborn and confused at Crowley's response to the supposed good news, yet he still listens to Crowley who eventually can somewhat incoherently say that he loves Aziraphale and wants to be an us.

As the scene progresses Azirapale starts to restlessly fidget, heavily breath, and frantically look around as he realizes that the conversation is south faster than the sinking of the Titanic. You can see on his face that he's trying to understand what Crowley is trying to say however, he just can piece it together that well.

Aziraphale understands that Crowley does indeed truly love him. However, Aziraphale also realizes that he too loves Crowley in return and is now getting increasingly overwhelmed to the point that he can't form coherent words.

During the awkward kiss scene, you can see that Aziraphale slightly and very briefly goes to hold/caress Crowley's shoulder right before the rough parting between him and Crowley. At this point, Aziraphale is confused as to why the kiss happened, is overwhelmed by the fact he kind of liked and wanted another one but it simply wasn't the right time, and is heartbroken that he has to leave Crowley, but he doesn't know for how long.

CONCLUSION:

Throughout the entire scene, Azirphale actually struggles with Crowley's disappointment and anger in response to Aziraphale's job promotion, with the idea of leaving Crowley and returning to heaven alone, and with how the hell he is supposed to cope, let alone function without Crowley to talk to.

Nowhere in the scene does it suggest that the decision to return to heaven was easy or simple for Aziraphale. He struggled like bitch and was still left for heaven heartbroken and without Crowley.

Yes, the ending was sad, but there shouldn't have been Aziraphale hate in the first place.

So I leave you with this:

So why the fuck was there so much Aziraphale hate?

#Don'tBlameAziraphale #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens theories #good omens thoughts #good omens tv #good omens #BlameHeaven #Heaven #Hell #LeaveAziraphaleAlone

[acourtofthought]

Would you still consider it a celebration if Gwynriel’s book is next, bc it at least confirms endgame couples?

I will be very happy for Gwynriels and very relieved that it will help lessen the ship wars though I think I'll still feel disappointed.

I want Elucien to happen but I also adore Elain and Lucien as individuals so an Elucien confirmation isn't the entirety of what I want for them.

Az and Gwyn absolutely deserve a HEA and their own healing arcs but there is something to be said for the fact that right now, they are surrounded by love even without a relationship. Yes, they have their own internal struggles but they have a really strong support system, people that have their backs, that encourage them, that believe in them. Az and Gwyn both have their found families but neither Elain or Lucien do.

Elain and Lucien are regularly pushed to the side in favor of the other characters. I understand why that is, SJM has to stay on course with the narrative that they still need to find the court where they'll thrive, but in the meantime that has resulted in them being misunderstood by the others. It results in others speaking for them, the others not encouraging them or helping them find their powers. Hell, Feyre has known about Lucien's real father since ACOWAR and it's almost two years later yet she's still letting him wander around aimlessly thinking he has no place to go.

A Gwynriel book being next means we're going to have yet another book of Elain floating around the River House with no real purpose. Lucien drifting between Spring and the Human Lands while Tamlin remains depressed which means Lucien will feel the effects of that. Elain again not having the chance to have a POV on how she's feeling about the loss of her father, being made, Graysen's rejection, Az's rejection, how Nesta and Az believe she shouldn't be allowed to do anything dangerous. If a Gwynriel book takes 6-9 months, that means nearly three years will have passed from when Elain will have been forced into the Cauldron, given powers from the Cauldron that she still hasn't fully explored and hasn't been given help on training, a confirmed mating bond that remains unaccepted and unrejected, and we will have never had a single person actually ask her how she feels about any of that outside of Feyre's "you couldn't say a single word to him?"

I will be happy for Gwynriels but how can I personally be super excited when that means my two favorite characters will once again suffer for another 6-9 months without having the same support system in place that Az and Gwyn already do?

Gwyn and Az might not have romance yet but they are respected and loved by their friends and we've witnessed that on page. Meaningful moments, moments where their found family have gotten personal with them and asked them to get personal in response (though Az is kind of terrible in that area, we've seen Cassian and Rhys at least try).

Lucien has "friends" in Vassa and Jurian but we've never actually seen that connection, we're just told it's there so we have to assume it is.

And when he tried to open up to Feyre, she made fun of him.

Elain has "friends" with the wraiths but again, we're just told about it rather than witnessing moments that make us actually feel it. And yes, her sisters love her but they don't try to connect with her (Feyre only thinks of her as a pleasant companion).

And the IC, while friendly enough with Lucien, don't necessarily embrace him with any kind of true respect. There's always this underlying current of "can we trust him?", "what can he do for us?" And of course we know Az has issues with him.

The need to prove that both Elain and Lucien belong somewhere other than where they currently is starting to feel a tiny bit overdone to the point that it's a bit cruel, and while that to me would be a perfect time to end their suffering, I can only imagine what another book of that would look like.

#pro elucien #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[atthebell]

i think one thing that's always been interesting to me is that people really believe/take for granted that the federation's goal is the islanders' happiness, when we really don't have any way of knowing if that's the truth. cucurucho says it a lot, claiming to care about islanders' happiness above all else, and it's been scattered throughout some federation lore (as well as being hinted at with the reset cinematics), but that doesn't mean it's actually true-- it could still be a smokescreen of what they really want. which, imo, is not happiness.

if it's all one big experiment, supposedly one of many, the idea that this one is the one that involves seeing what happens when islanders are happy is not a provable thing still, nor is it clear what that actually means to the federation. does happiness mean the islanders are content to remain on the island? does happiness mean building relationships and connecting with others? does happiness mean self-fulfillment (something deeply immeasurable)? it's not clear what it means to the federation, nor if that is their true goal. it could be that that has nothing to do with their goal, and is a complete misdirect. it could be that cucurucho's prime directive is the islanders' happiness (not that it's very good at that), but that's meant as a tactic to stymie islander curiosity/resistance. it could be any number of things.

and i think viewing it from a more meta lens of "we cannot tell what is or is not the truth; not only are all character povs biased but so is the larger narrative presented to us." i think comparing this framework to something like the good place is helpful, in that when you assume that what you're presented with is the truth and don't look at the setting critically, you will miss the fact that things presented to you as fact by any kind of source (including the framework of the medium itself or the established setting) are suspect and should be examined further.

i can even put it in a smaller way; there are ways within a limited character pov to present things as directly happening when they are not, and these are ways that mcrp creators have utilized. playing out an event that did not actually happen, canonical hallucinations, dream sequences that are not explained as such, physical representations of metaphorical experiences, etc. etc. are ALL things that mcrp creators of done. tricking your audience is an incredibly interesting and at times vital part of mcrp. so if just one creator within their own pov can do it, why can't the whole narrative? why can't you be convinced you're in a different genre, why can't you be convinced that the physical location your characters are placed in is someplace that isn't?

all this to say, i think a major issue in terms of analyzing media like this is allowing yourself to go along with assumptions without thinking about why you're falling so easily into them as truth. making all of your lore assumptions based off the notion that it is objective fact that the federation cares about and has the goal of islanders' happiness means you are going to miss details and fixate on others without looking at the full scope of possibilities. which i think was a serious issue during the height of investigation/mystery stuff-- people fell into the trap of "i KNOW this to be true" without considering the man behind the curtain. sure, cellbit found documents indicating that the federation was founded on isla quesadilla-- considering who sent him on the trail of said documents, who's to say that that's the truth?

i think bagi is a particularly interesting investigator when it comes to this kind of thing-- she's VERY good at holding onto a lot of different possibilites in her mind, even going so far as to act on a lot of them at once, and that means she doesn't take anything for granted. having all of the data in front of you, without attempting to skew it to a theory you already have in mind (which i admit is very difficult to do! humans are biased and are geared towards pattern recognition), is an important skill when it comes to any kind of data analysis or investigation.

anyway idk where i was going with this i just started thinking about like. what is involved in good theorizing and how focusing on something you believe to be fact can lead you in the wrong direction, and i think the idea of the islander's happiness as the federation's main goal is one of those very fraught assumptions people get caught up in.

#bell.txt #qsmp analysis

[reccyls]

Surprise Bag 2024 Story (Prologue)

The April Fool's story from 2024. This is only the prologue, as the continuations are sold as story sales that I will not be purchasing. I do still think it is very funny, though.

The premise is a bodyswap, Ellis <> Jude and Elbert <> Alfons

Ever since I became a Fairytale Keeper, I like to think that my tolerance for the extraordinary has increased.

However, this latest happening in Crown far surpassed anything I had ever experienced.

"Jude": Good morning, Miss Kate. I'll make you happy today too.

Kate: ...Jude, did you... hit your head on something?

"Jude": Hm? Nope, I'm perfectly fine. Haven't hit my head on anything.

Kate: What happened to your usual terrible attitude?! Did you catch a cold? Are you injured? We have to go to the hospital now--

"Ellis": Tch, the hell is this?

"Jude": Ah, Jude. "Jude": Huh? Jude, why are you me?

"Ellis": I should be the one asking. Why the hell are you me?

Kate: Wha? Huh??

"Elbert": Ahha! Something terribly amusing seems to have happened, hasn't it?

Kate: Alf- Eh, Lord Elbert? Kate: Wait, so then is that 'Alfons' standing behind you...?

"Alfons": ...When I looked in the mirror, I became Al.

"Elbert": Being able to look at oneself from the point of view of an outsider truly is fascinating. "Elbert": Oh yes, El. Do speak more energetically. It's unsettling to hear myeslf sound so glum.

"Alfons": ...More energetically? ...I'll, try... "Alfons": ........Ahha.

"Elbert": I suppose that's my mistake for asking you to be more energetic.

Kate: Wait, just hold on a second. So what's happened is... Kate: ...Jude and Ellis, and then Lord Elbert and Alfons have swapped bodies!? Kate: What kind of ridiculous situation is this...!?

"Ellis": It's that goddamn doctor bastard's fault. I'll kill him.

---

Gathering the remainder of Crown, we questioned Roger about the circumstances. He let out an unrestrained laugh.

Roger: My bad, my bad. Who'd ever think that the results would pay off this quickly? Aren't I a genius?

Victor: Now's not the time, Roger! What did you do to cause this adorable- excuse me, very troubling situation?

Liam: Victor, you're not hiding your true feelings very well. Your words and face don't match at all.

Roger: I had the thought of swapping a cursed person with a normal person. That could lead to the curse transferring, couldn't it? So I was doing some research.

William: Your unquenchable thirst for knowledge is admirable indeed. But if that were the case, shouldn't you be experimenting with a cursed person and a normal human?

Roger: It'd be pretty dangerous for us if something went wrong while I was experimenting on a normal person, wouldn't it? I thought I'd test things out on these guys first.

Harrison: Just what do you think we are? We die just as easy as normal people, you know.

"Elbert": Let's toss that musclehead four-eyes into the Thames.

"Ellis": Yeah. Fix some stone weights to him and it'll be over quick.

Kate: Stop, stop! Don't say things like that wearing Elbert and Ellis's faces!

"Jude": But that's pretty amazing, Roger. I never thought that medicine like this could exist.

Liam: ...Jude being all soft is- nope, that's just weird!

Roger: Don't worry so much. Once I've collected enough data from you lot, I'll whip up an antidote. Roger: ........Once I've got an antidote, I can start testing on the others.

Harrison: ...You just said something awful, didn't you?

Roger: Don't know what you're talking about.

"Elbert": You're acting like you're in any position to bargain about turning us back? Pardon my French, but go die.

Harrison: Yikes... Uh, Liam? Hey, Liam, hey. Did he fall asleep?

"Jude": Sorry, I touched his head. I was curious about whether I could use Jude's power or not.

Roger: Huh, so the ability stays with the body. I really am a genius after all, aren't I?

(This isn't helping anymore...!)

Kate: A-anyway! Please make that antidote as soon as possible, Roger! Kate: ...Geez. What are we going to do if Her Majesty hears about this?

Roger: Well, I might end up getting fired... Roger: ...So it's up to you to watch over the lot of them to make sure nobody else finds out about this, little lady.

Kate: Huh? ...Roger? Wait!

"Ellis": Tch... Fuck it. Let him get kicked out.

"Jude": Ah, Jude, my body isn't used to--

"Ellis": *cough, cough*... Ellis. First thing we're doing is to start training so you can at least handle one cigar.

"Elbert": Hmm... with a face like this, I could get away with doing pretty much anything, don't you think?

"Alfons": ...Kate, is this spoon beautiful?

Kate: M-my poor sanity...!

#ikemen villains #my translation