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#not enough not-a-fan to like. have a problem with anybody about it
a-dragons-journal · 1 year
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If I'm honest, these new(ish? at least becoming newly popular) words like folken/folkel to "include" nonhumans kind of annoy me in the same way people using "folx" to "include" nonbinary people/be "gender neutral" kind of annoys me. The words "folks" and "people" are already gender-neutral and they also, at least imo, are not synonymous with "human." They already include us.
While I guess I don't have a problem for individuals preferring the words used to include themselves in a given group for personal reasons, when speaking broadly, I'd like less "make new words to "include" nonhumans in "people"" and more "recognize that "people" includes, or at least should include, anyone who's sapient, and isn't a human-exclusive word". The latter is actual inclusivity. The former is, in my opinion, kind of just making people's lives harder by giving them more linguistic hoops to jump through (and reinforcing that folks/people/etc. doesn't/shouldn't include us... isn't helping us, it's just perpetuating the problem you're attempting to solve).
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skinnypaleangryperson · 5 months
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I don't know if it's just me, but are they gradually dumbing down Rick's character for the sake of keeping the show popular?
I got extreme Peter Griffin vibes from this episode, and I feel like in general he's a lot less sharp and cool gritty and witty and "unconventional" the way that he was the first couple of seasons. He wasn't an easy character to "swallow" in a lot of ways so to speak, and I feel like he's gradually getting dumber, more cloudy around the edges, less sharp and more conventional and shallow with a lot of the things that he says. He feels extremely typical sometimes this season-like more of the character that people would watch because the character doesn't challenge their headspace in any kind of way, and is someone that encourages their complacent drunk dead personality.
The character used to say things that was really unpopular, or at the very least would occasionally say things that would make people uncomfortable (just things like "if you know how you're going to die because of how boring your life is then you're not even alive" and just things that challenged at the boring drunk complacent status quo that most American sitcom characters are), was an extreme breath of fresh air in terms of how sharp he was and how he wasn't afraid to challenge everything even if it was just in a TV show character kind of way, and it's one of the things that stuck out about me about him the most, especially as someone who is mentally ill and feels detached from most of American culture.
I might just be in a bad mood, but I genuinely feel like Rick feels less sharp and "unconventional"and is starting to feel increasingly more dumb, dopey and easy to swallow as a character.
I still love him and I always will, and sometimes I find it endearing, but this episode in particular felt like he was just being a dumb genuine and boring drunk (really just in terms of the scene with Beth, but considering that the episodes are only about 22 minutes, there isn't a lot of elbow room to work with, especially considering most of this episode was summer screen time).
The only reason why I care so much is because of Rick is one of the very few characters I've ever been genuinely connected with, so I'm just worried that Rick as a character is going down to gradual slippery slope of just becoming an American extremely overly dumbed it down product. The show was so gritty and real and raw and a lot of ways for the first three to four seasons and kept that touch up to season 6, but this season just feels like they're gradually going into "American Dad" type feeling territory, and I'm vaguely worried a little bit about my connection to the show. Especially as someone that does not connect to things easily or ever at all really. And partially because everything is so dumbed down and doesn't seem to have any and genuine philosophy behind it except of being another brainless thing for people to consume to pass the time.
#I'm just complaining to myself#because I don't like talking to people on Reddit#lol#rick and morty#if anybody thinks that I'm being melodramatic then I am because there is such thing as being mentally ill because of real life#problems and being deeply in love with characters because for whatever reason that's what makes sense to my brain#I have no friends in this fandom so I can post as obnoxiously as I want anyway lol#Rick is one of the very few things that means enough to me to bring out this passionate side of me#when it comes to consumption#literally not even kidding but my attachment to Rick is so deep#that even just having a certain kind of dopey looked his expression after being confronted in a certain way from being caught drunk can put#me off#for the record I am aware of the fact that my attachment to Rick is unhealthy#and therefore how passionate I am about him is vaguely off-putting or a lot off putting depending on who you are#but I am a self-aware unhealthy person#and I'm also wear the fact that literally nobody has to put up with somebody else's posts if they don't like how intense or mentally ill#they are#fans like me would be better off at this point if the show was canceled#not because I want it to be but because I've become so specifically attached in my extreme labretentious way from other way that Rick was#presented the first six or so seasons that I feel like at this point I've become almost too picky#and obviously it's not about what I think#but I am saying this as someone that is more than content to be fixated on a canceled TV show because of how perfect it already was#like bj#literally the strongest relationship I've ever had with a character#and it's from a canceled TV show of literally 4 years lol
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teatoptony · 1 year
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 - p.j
summary; using your percy as a pillow.
pairing; percy jackson x demigod!reader
word count; 2.1k
warning(s); none, just fluff
a/n; sorry this took so long!! english isn’t my first language, so there might be a couple errors. it’s short, but hope you don’t mind, anon :) // takes place nowhere within canon in particular, but claiming happens really quickly
request(s); Hii! This is my first time requesting something EVER for anybody so that’s fun. Could you write prompt 6/ "You took all the pillows so i’m using you as one." Where Percy has all the pillows and reader decides to lay on his chest. Or the other way around, which ever is easier to write! Ty ty
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Percy Jackson was the only demigod son of Poseidon. Therefore, he was the only occupant of Cabin Three at Camp Half-Blood.
However, if someone were to ask any of the campers, they would say that there were actually two people who lived in Cabin Three. One of those two people being, of course, Percy, and the other being you.
You and Percy were that couple in camp. You know that one couple that’s always hugging, holding hands, or touching each other in any way, shape, or form? Yeah, the two of you were that. He always had an arm around you, or held your hand in his. Sometimes, he snuck up and hugged you from behind while you were having a conversation or doing some other thing that required you to stand still in the same spot, often causing him to get an earful for surprising you or making the person you were talking with uncomfortable enough to leave.
Percy’s touchy demeanor only got worse when he was sleepy. While most decent boyfriends would offer to walk their girlfriends back to her place, Percy always dragged you away from the campfire singalong and straight into his cabin.
You were sure Chiron knew about this – after all, your boyfriend never really tried to sneak you off, and your half-siblings definitely knew you weren’t in your own bunk at night – but if he did, he tried his best to pretend that he didn’t. Whenever Percy got up from his seat at the campfire with you in tow, the centaur seemed to take a sudden interest in his hooves, or the grass, or his marshmallow that was already toasted to perfection in the fire.
And if Mr. D knew, he didn’t let on. He never really stuck around for the singalong after dinner, so you weren’t really sure if he ever saw the two of you. But he’s the camp director—he had to know something was up. You supposed the punishment for sleeping in another cabin involved too much paperwork to carry out. Either that, or the Mr. D simply knew that Percy would drag you to his cabin no matter the amount of times he had to wash the Camp’s dinner plates.
Percy was a big fan of cuddling. It helped him sleep—like actually sleep, without any dreams to bother him throughout the night. He joked that you were like his personal dose of melatonin, though he’d never taken any before, going so far as to gift you an ‘assorted berries’ flavored lip balm.
“Like the gummies,” he had explained, attacking your lips once you’d applied the makeup. You haven’t yet found the heart to tell him that taking melatonin could actually cause very vivid, extremely wild dreams.
You’d let him live his fantasy, for now.
Luckily for Percy, you were also a big cuddler, especially with him. While you weren't as open with PDA – Percy did more than enough of that for you both to get yourselves through the day – you rarely let go of your boyfriend when the two of you were alone, which he was extremely happy about.
The two of you always faced each other, laying on your sides. You would run your fingers through his hair, and he would hug you close while the two of you got so tangled up that you didn’t know which limbs were whose, bringing a much needed sense of domesticity to your hectic lives. In those moments, time seemed to stop, and the two of you were the only people in the world.
The only problem with these cuddle sessions was, Percy was a huge blanket hog.
Like, really huge.
When Percy started to drift off, it was like he'd been possessed by a pillows-and-blankets goblin or something. He rolled around on the bed, and when you're conscious enough to move over in order to avoid being completely flattened underneath him, he took the opportunity to take up all of your previous space, along with your pillow and around ninety-eight percent of the sheets.
You'd tried and failed numerous times to keep this from happening: tucking yourselves in extra tight, tiring him out as much as you could, all the things people on the internet claimed would keep someone from tossing and turning. Nothing had worked, hence, the oh-so-familiar predicament you constantly found yourself in. Again. And again. And again.
///
Today was another typical day. The only difference? It felt like about a week’s worth of work had been crammed into it.
At the crack of dawn, one of the protector satyrs brought three new campers to the hill. And, as luck would have it, it was your turn to show any new arrivals around. The three new half-bloods – all of them around ten or eleven years old – came to Percy’s cabin, led by one of your half-siblings. Four kids bursting through the door when the sun hadn’t even come up yet was not the best way to wake up.
After a quick change and a hasty kiss goodbye, you gave the newbies the full tour, from the lava climbing wall to the arts and crafts center to the canoeing lake. You were sure they were sweet kids most of the time, but in your sleepy and quite frankly grumpy state, all their chattering gave you a migraine. And that’s not even including all their Mythomagic questions.
“Does Athena really have two thousand attack points?”
“Can Eros really Charm his enemies with Love Shots?”
“Does Apollo really use volleyballs for his Ultimate?”
You wished you could’ve learned a couple basic things from Nico before he quit the game.
Once you got the three of them settled comfortably in their cabins, it was already too late for breakfast. Percy would have grabbed you something, but, being counselors, the both of you had classes to teach and errands to run that kept you apart. After a few hastily scribbled cabin inspections, you dropped them off at the Big House before heading off to teach Ancient Greek.
Your Ancient Greek lessons hadn’t gone that bad. A few kids’ dyslexia was acting up today, but you really couldn’t expect any less every other day. After the usual alphabet refresher for newer kids, you had the campers read a few Greek legends out loud, and the class was dismissed without a hitch.
Unfortunately, that was one of the very few times things went smoothly today.
Your second class was riding lessons. Two relatively new campers managed to offend one of the pegasi and ended up in the infirmary with a few nasty bruises—great, add that report to your stack of paperwork. And cleaning up afterwards was always the worst part. The pegasi liked you, really, but they couldn’t help that they couldn’t groom themselves, especially their wings. As for the pegasus that charged those two kids, you had to put him in the time-out cubicle to calm him down.
The thing about pegasi is, they prefer to roam around, and definitely do not appreciate being put in the time-out cubicle. You were glad you didn’t speak horse like Percy, because – judging by the amount of angry horse noises – you were pretty sure the pegasus thoroughly cussed you out.
Next task: canoeing with the naiads.
A few of the naiads claimed a canoe for themselves, and the kids each broke off into separate teams to take turns racing with the nymphs. A couple Hephaestus kids, determined to win for once, had designed a detachable motor to rig to their canoe—the naiads didn’t seem to mind, so you let them be. It exploded about halfway across the lake. No one got hurt, thankfully, but the canoe was no longer usable. You put the kids who’d built the motor on kitchen duty with the harpies for the rest of the week.
Lunchtime came around, but you were too busy to eat properly, grabbing a single piece of pizza before running off to prep a small section of the woods for a wilderness survival class one of the satyrs were supposed to teach. Apparently, he had fallen asleep and forgotten to prepare everything himself the night before, and you agreed to help him just to stop him from running around you in circles. Getting your feet stomped on by panicked goat hooves? Not so fun.
A couple more mildly disastrous activities and a small pile of reports later, it was time for your favorite routine—dinner, campfire, Cabin Three, and lots of cuddles à la Percy.
At the Dining Pavilion, you practically inhaled your food, as it was the first time you’d had a chance to get a full meal all day. After the void in your stomach had been taken care of, you dragged Percy to the campfire, where you claimed the best seat for roasting marshmallows. As usual, your boyfriend refused to sing a single note.
“Come on, just this one time?” You pleaded. The whole camp was singing The Campfire Song – the unofficial anthem of Camp Half-Blood – a song that the gods surprisingly didn’t take offense to. Singing complaints about your godly parentage was apparently received as a lighthearted joke. Judging by the unusually bright golden color of the flames, you were fairly certain Apollo even enjoyed it.
“You’re the only one here with Poseidon as a dad. We’re dying for you to rhyme something—you should see Cabin Seven, there’s this one part of the wall covered with post-it notes with bets on what you’ll sing. I saw a lyric comparing your dad to Marlin from Finding Nemo, once.” You said. Katie Gardner sang about how she’d gotten a fern in a mason jar for her sixteenth birthday. “I think there’s one for Nico, too, but that’s mostly just Will.”
“If I tried to sing, I’d probably cause an avalanche.” Percy laughed, and kissed you when you tried to say something else. He did that to shut you up sometimes. It was infuriating for sure, but you had to admit it was pretty damn effective.
“One day, Sharkboy,” you promised, giving him a determined grin before leaning in to kiss him again. A few of your siblings whooped in the background, for Katie or to tease you, you didn't know.
“Mm, we’ll see,” your boyfriend muttered, pulling you closer as Travis and Connor Stoll took up the mic.
A few more verses and a couple other songs later, you were back in Percy’s warm bed in Cabin Three. The air had that salty taste like the beach on a cool summer’s night, and the underwater plants and corals that Tyson had brought back from Poseidon’s palace took on a luminescent glow under the moonlight. Percy’s Minotaur horn glinted silver on the wall.
You were completely worn out from the day. Sure, it wasn’t as bad as going on a killer quest, but you were allowed to complain about and tire out from mundane things, too. Percy had to practically carry you from the campfire because you were already half asleep.
But as soon as Percy started to drift off – and therefore started to move towards you, and assemble his blanket burrito – your eyes flew open and you propped yourself up on the bed, effectively disentangling yourself from him. You heard him stir as he felt your warmth disappear.
“Y/N..” Percy whined, his voice gravelly with sleep, as he tried to grab you by the waist to pull you back to him. You swatted his hand away, and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. “What’re you doing?”
“Improvising.” You huffed. There was no way you were going to deal with ‘Percy the Pillow Pillager’ problems tonight. As much as you loved him, you were tired of practically hanging off the edge of the bed.
Putting your hands on one side of Percy’s premature blanket burrito, you rolled him back to his previous spot, making him lie on his back. You then disassembled the sheets to make some room for yourself underneath them. Percy happily let you cuddle into him again. But this time, you quite literally lay on top of him, draping your arm, leg and most of your torso over him and putting your head on his chest.
“You took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one,” you stated. “Stay. Put.” You poked him to emphasize each word and felt his chest rumble as he laughed.
“I will,” he promised.
“Mhm.”
You were skeptical, but you felt too warm and comfortable to care much. If you got tossed off the bed in the middle of the night, that was a future-you problem.
You felt Percy kiss the top of your head as you drifted into sleep.
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goldies-cryptobitch · 19 days
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Warning people in the Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fandom of the shameless art thief @horrorlover1 (funnily enough they tried changing their URL because they got called out, I assume they don't realize that old URL @'s still take people to your updated URL 🙄) - They've been reposting people's art with the excuse of "Oh, well, I don't know where they came from, I just find them on Google UwU Credit to the artist tho lol" and when told directly where somebody's art came from, their response was to delete the replies, block the person, restrict replies on ALL their posts, and btw, STILL did not actually credit the OG artist.
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So, safe to say, it's abundantly clear that this human trashpile doesn't actually give a shit about the original artists of these works. I'll be tagging all the OG artists I can find and link to the stolen posts so that y'all can report this person (I will also @ some of the well-known fandom artists who might not've been hit yet so that they know to block this person and report them if they are able. Also, I don't have Twitter, so if somebody could let the Twitter-exclusive users know of this to also report this person, that would be dope. (Maybe post in the replies if you're going to do that though, so that people can see if it's already been done and the artists don't get spammed about it.))
This art belongs to @marukmpos (Twitter link)
This art belongs to @bluestripedrenulian (dA link)
This art belongs to rinna_hel
This art belongs to Tunyeta
This art belongs to @mellemoondraws (Twitter link)
This art and this art belongs to @gensubart (dA link)
This art belongs to thatboni and @notherpuppet (Twitter link)
This art belongs to TheOGFazFilms
This art belongs to Cessy_Janea
This art belongs to cocodar
This art belongs to Sooelliee and Alkar_tar_art (whose profile SPECIFICALLY says not to repost their art btw)
This art belongs to Thea Yildirim
This art belongs to @pleasantlypony (Twitter link)
This art belongs to Serped3ra
This art belongs to @frenchiefie / @frenchiefieart (Twitter link)
This art belongs to ArtyDemon
This art belongs to SuamyArt
This art belongs to @sadelionne (Twitter link)
And some Hazbin/Helluva artists I'm tagging mostly just warning to block this person so their art also doesn't get stolen/reposted: @kandavers @smilezandmics @greykolla-art @triona-tribblescore @alymccart @noramiamere @adyophene @diabloku @applepartysins @captainsaltypear @scruplepossum (Again, I'm not in the fandom, so I don't really know who all should be tagged and I don't want to make this post crazily long, but yeah, I guess if anybody else in the fandom knows of who might wanna be given a heads up, they'd know better than me lol)
I'm not in the HH/HB fandoms, I was just shootin' the shit with a friend yesterday (the one who initially commented about crediting artists on their posts) and they mentioned this situation to me, and since art thieves like this are massive fucking shitbags that just wanna get clout off of other people's work, figured I should at least credit some ACTUAL artists. Even as an outsider I know that stealing/reposting is a MASSIVE problem in that fandom, and the art fans have got to stop letting people get away with it. Don't like/reblog from assholes like this, support the ACTUAL artists, dude. Stop letting these leeches get away with stealing from legitimate content creators.
If anybody recognizes any of the other stolen art that I might not've found the OG artists for, please let them know so that they can also report their stolen artworks.
Moral of the story: It's not that fucking hard to find the original artists of things online. Don't be a shitty art thief like @horrorlover1 and at LEAST give PROPER credit if you're going to repost something. :/
Edit: Just editing to add that I find it kinda funny how they claim I made this post to try and boost myself when I said multiple times that I'm not even in the Hazbin/Helluva fandom, lmfao. Like, who tf you think I'm boosting myself to??? I don't even make content for this fandom. Also they changed their url to @thecatgirl-luvmyrocky but the original @ link still works, too.
Editing to add their apology, but I am still keeping the post up so that people can decide for themselves if they want to block or not.
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Stop reposting things with no credit, and if any artists reach out to you about taking down their posts or anything like that, then listen to them. Artists deserve respect, they deserved to be RECOGNIZED for their hard work, and not giving credit is a HUGE slap in the face to them. Do better.
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lolaxbunnyy · 3 months
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IDK IF YOU STILL DO MY HERO ACADEMIA AS IM NEW- but I love your writing so
What about poly Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki x Fem!reader who’s nine months pregnant, due any day now. She’s about to go into labor but they’re not home due to a mission
Idk if I explained this well 💀
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also I hope this is good enough I haven’t been on here in a while 😬 . Also I gave the baby a name and a gender if you want something else then you can feel free to change it. Also if anybody has anything they would like me to write please ask!
warnings: fem black reader, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth, nothing bad though just enjoy.
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SHOTO, IZUKU, AND KATSUKI. The top three most amazing and well known pro heros who were well loved by their fans had a little secret. They had a pretty little wife who was carrying one of their babies. Katsuki decided that he was going to be the one to get her pregnant first, the other two had no problem with that. After months of trying and no show she was finally pregnant and all four of them were so happy to finally have their first kid.
It’s been 9 months already and their precious baby girl has yet to leave her place within her mamas tummy.
Y/N rubbed her swollen belly as she did her rotations on her exercise ball. Katsuki’s mom was here helping her out with the little things that she needed. Mitsuki loved her from the moment Katsuki introduced them and now that she’s going to have a little grandchild she was even more happy with her future daughter in law.
"Y/N honey. The boys are calling again."Mitsuki said as she walked in from the kitchen to the living room rolling her eyes. “This is the fourth time they’ve called in the last hour.” Mitsuki chuckled.
"They're so worried that you're going to pop before they get back." Y/N grabbed the phone from, Mitsuki’s hand and put it up to her ear.
“Hello?” “Hey, baby. You doing okay?” Y/N rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “Yes I’ve been okay since the last time you called.” She heard him chuckle. “Okay. You’re a little worked up. What happened? Sick of us calling?” Y/N giggled. “Nope, never. I can’t even miss or worry about you guys because you’re too busy calling all the time instead of focusing on your task that you three were sent to do.” Before Izuku could respond she heard the faint voice of someone talking to him. “Oi? Is that Curls?” Katsuki of course.
Y/N heard what sounded like the phone being snatched away from Izuku. “Oi, Curls! If you ever hand up in my face again we’re gonna have some problems when I get back home, you hear me?” Y/N chuckled. “Yes sir.” She heard the blonde kiss his teeth before handing the phone back to Izuku.
“Sorry, bout that. Anyways you’ve got some scolding to do to Katsuki anyways.” “Don’t you dare tell her about that!” She could tell Izuku rolled his eyes. “He was being careless today and almost lost his leg.” Katsuki grumbled. “ ‘Was not bein’ fuckin’ careless. ‘The hell was I s’posed to know he was gonna turn his leg in to a fuckin’ chain saw?!” Y/N pursed her lips. “Y’know if you two are done bickering we have matters to attend too.”
Shoto said out of nowhere. “That’s right. Well baby, look like we gotta go. We’ll see you next week, hopefully.” Katsuki butted in. “Yeah so tell the brat to avoid her eviction notices till then.” Y/N laughed. “I’m sure she heard you, Kat. I’ll see you boys next week. I love you.” “We love you more baby.” Then the phone clicked and the call was over.
Y/N sighed. She truly did miss them. Sure she enjoyed the company of her soon to be in laws, but she missed her boys. It was quiet and peaceful while they were away and she hated that. The bed was always cold and empty and she also hated that but it still smelled of them and she could at least appreciate that. So did the large shirt that she borrowed from Shoto’s side of the closet.
The boys had already been gone for two weeks and they’d be back home next week but it doesn’t feel like Blossom can wait any longer to be out in the world. Her eyes trailed over towards the belly cast that she had gotten done. The boys had decorated it all pretty and even drew a little family of four on it in Katsuki’s terrible excuse of a drawing. She’d never tell him that though because even if it was bad it’s still cute and still has meaning to it. She can still even feel their careful hands on her stomach.
Izuku’s hands are the most scarred and a little calloused but still firm and calming. Katsuki’s hands being the most calloused and somehow a bit sweaty from time to time. Sho’s hands were the softest but were always cold.
She missed the special treatment and massages they’d give her before they left. They were very caring and spoiling.
It’s been like this since they’ve found out that she was pregnant. They couldn’t be home for her, they had their moms take care of her. Then when they came home for the night, they’d be all over her because in their words, “you look so cute when you’re pregnant.”
She smiled softly at Mitsuki as she smelled the cooking of her favorite food. It’s getting later and later and there was a storm outside brewing. She didn’t want her poor boys caught outside in the rain.
"Y/N, Inko sent some more clothes for Blossom." Mitsuki smiled as she handed them to her. “Awe. We’re going to run out of space in her little closets.” Y/N held the shirt to her stomach. “Do you like it, B?” Y/N suddenly winced at a sharp pain in her stomach. “Okay, I’ll put it away.” But the pain kept coming. Mitsuki helped Y/N up carefully and at that very moment, her water broke.
Mitsuki immediately started to call phones. "Inko, Rei! It's happening! I need you here now! The babies coming!"
Mitsuki was rushing around the house to get the bags ready and extra clothes before helping her soon to be daughter in law towards the car.
Once they arrived after some time Mitsuki rushed in to get a nurse and she came back with a nurse who had a wheelchair ready and the both of them helped Y/N out of the car in to the chair and she was wheeled in and rushed towards the maternity floor. They put her in a room and went to go get things ready for her.
“Where the fuck are they going?!” Y/N whimpered out as one if her hands held her stomach while her other arm was draped across her face. Rei and Inko walked in. "They're going to get everything ready. More doctors and your epidural for your pain, Honey."Inko responded and Y/N hummed in pain.
“Did you call the boys?” Rei asked and Mitsuki nodded her head as she tried to get Y/N comfortable and situated. "Yes but they're not answering. I think they're too busy in what they're doing."
Rei let out a soft okay before looking at the clock on the wall. 12:03 AM it read. A nurse came back in and injected her with the medicine but it didn’t have time to do its job because right after the doctors came in and it was time for her baby girl to come out in to the world.
Everything went smoothly. (beside the three mothers having to stop Y/N from attacking the nurse. Twice. First time because if her giving her the epidural late and second because the bitch almost dropped her baby.) when Blossom was all cleaned up it was about. 2:19 when Y/N got to hold her baby and feed her.
She was so pretty. Her skin was a mix between Y/N and Katsuki and her hair was blonde and straight but Y/N was sure that her curls would come in soon. Last but not least her eyes her round and (e/c) just like her moms as she looked up at her through her blonde eyelashes. The three mothers huddled around Y/N to look at their granddaughter. "Awe. She's so pretty." Inko cooed softly. “I’ve got to get pictures.” Rei gushed and both her and Inko rushed to their purses to get their phone out while Mitsuki stayed by Y/N.
"Do you want me to get her so you can rest?" “Yes please, if you don’t mind.” Mitsuki took Blossom and soon after, Y/N was knocked out.
Izuku was the last person to get out of the bath for that morning. They’d been up since midnight going on a fake lead, practically wasting their time all night. Izuku grabbed what he thought was his phone but noticed that it was Katsuki’s. “Hey, Kachaan? You’ve got 10 missed calls from your mom.” Katsuki raised an eyebrow as he set down his freshly cooked spicy ramen.
He went to his call log and clicked on his mom’s name in face time. "Hello?" His mom’s face showed in the camera. “You called 10 times?” He said unamused. Thinking that it was just her being worried and paranoid again. "Well, I needed to tell you something." Katsuki hummed. “Kay?” The camera flipped around and Katsuki saw blonde hair then the phone fell to the floor as his mom let out an agitated ‘damn it’ before picking it up and a sleeping baby was shown.
“Is that?” "Yep." Inko cut off her son. “That’s Blossom guys!” The boys mouths dropped. Their daughter was so pretty just like her mommy. After that face time call that day the boys had to call off the mission to get home to their girls immediately.
Y/N was released from the hospital two days before they could come home so when they made it back they instantly without a second thought came straight home and they finally got to see their daughter. Blossoms little hair started to curl up a little so she most definitely started to look like Y/N.
Katsuki was the first to hold her and she was so small Katsuki feared that he might break her. Izuku and Shoto walked towards Katsuki, standing on either side of him as they looked down at their daughter. “She most definitely looks like a Blossom.” Shoto spoke softly as the little baby curiously looked at the three men.
Their moms smiled at them. "Congrats boys!" Mitsuki had tears in her eyes as little sniffles came out. "Oh my goodness. I'm finally a grandma! I'm never gonna get over this!" She cried into Inko’s shoulder and Inko patted her back comfortingly. “I wanna hold her next.” Izuku held his arms out and Katsuki carefully handed Blossom to him. Once he was secure in his arms, Katsuki turned towards Y/N.
He smiled softly and he walked over towards her giving her a kiss on her cheek. He watched the others coo over the little blonde haired baby.
“Thank you so much, baby.” Three months later, the world knew about their two girls after Izuku had posted a video of Blossom giggling away at Katsuki and Shoto making silly faces at her while Y/N just watched in the background with a big smile on her face. That video was the most brought up topic in their latest interviews and they didn’t mind at all telling the world about their girls.
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this story belongs to @lolaxbunnyy !!
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dduane · 1 year
Note
With regards to etiquette regarding authors and fan-works: how does this work with authors who participate in fandom subsequently writing authorized spin-offs or...whatever you'd call "I don't own this IP but I have permission to publish a thing"? Obviously "don't send someone fic directly so they can choose whether or not to engage" is a good rule to follow, but if you — as an example — read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel, is that then legally problematic?
Hmm.
Let's first sharpen up the terminology a bit, so we can all be sure what we're talking about. The owners of a given IP may not necessarily be the ones tasked with the actual business of inviting others into the property to create new material in that universe. So for convenience's sake let's just lump the actual owners and the ones managing the IP on their behalf together as "the Licensors". The person/s allowed by the licensor to execute this new art, or to hire people to do it, is/are the licensee/s. (...It's actually a little more complicated than that, but let's leave it there for the moment.)
Now, about your first question: let me head first for a situation where I've been in the past, so I can tell you what I did.
Let's say someone who's read Star Trek fanfic—not exactly vast amounts, but some, a decade or so previously—goes pro and then gets asked by the licensor, "Hey, wanna write a Star Trek novel?" When that happened to me, I let my editor know that I'd read some Trek fic in my time, but would do my best to avoid any storyline that was anything like any fic material I could remember. And for a long time I had an informal agreement with Pocket Books—noncontractual, but one I adhered to rigidly—that I would avoid reading any Trek fanfic while I was writing Trek professionally, and would only read Trek material provided to me by the publisher themselves. (This habit has persisted for a long while, as—these days in particular—there's no telling when the phone might ring...)
Back in the day, this approach worked well enough to be going on with. For one thing, Trek fanfic was then way thinner on the ground than it is now, and (being printed pretty much exclusively in paper fanzines) was far easier to avoid. It also worked because I had no desire whatsoever to take the chance of borrowing anybody else's material to begin with. Then as now, I'd have felt that would've been seriously wrong—and anyway, I had more than enough ideas of my own. ...And it worked for a third set of reasons, peculiar to Trek.
Early on, the attitude of (first Paramount, then Gulf&Western, then... who came next? Viacom? Anyway—) the corporate owners was essentially, "We own this IP; nobody should be writing fic in it without our permission; if anybody gives us grief about one of our books being like something of theirs they wrote illegally, we'll come after them with the lawyers." This attitude was markedly not Roddenberry's (at least early on...). He absolutely knew about fic, saw it at conventions, and largely seemed not to mind. This weird dichotomy of stances contributed to an atmosphere in which ficcing fans were inclined to walk softly, try to keep from being noticed by the corporate levels, and (if they engaged with Gene on the subject) keep it very low-key.
Now around the same time I was doing my first couple/few Trek works, the profic/fanfic interface started to get spikier. This was at least partly due to the problems that followed Marion Zimmer Bradley's engagement with a fan writer in her Darkover universe. At least partly as a result of this, various pros' attitudes toward people ficcing in their universes noticeably hardened—the emphasis shifting from concerns about personal preference to sharper ones centering on the writer's potential legal exposure. (Though the two kinds of issue did sometimes get tangled together.)
So that bubbled along for a good while in the background, coming more seriously to the boil when the Internet became a thing, and fic started to percolate through it in newsgroups and mailing lists and (finally) onto easily accessible web pages; and most recently, into platforms like AO3.
And this is where the question of ease of access becomes a significant part of the equation, and the picture shifts equally significantly.
I can't help but smile at the phrasing "If you—as an example—read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel..." Because though there may be some Tumblerini sitting at the bottom of the crater Daedalus or in the depths of Valles Marineris* who don't know about this, well, I'm a Sherlock fan... and this query is pertinent.
Let's say that Messiah comes, the King returns, and the BBC commissions Sherlock S5. And secondary to that, let's say that the production staff call my agent and say, "We hear you've got this hot licensed-property writer who's done work for all these different licensors. How about you ask her if she wants to write a Sherlock novel for us?"
And now we're up against it... because there's more than one kind of tie-in novel.
One is the kind where you novelize a script. Of agreeing to that I'd have no fear, because the boundaries of such work are tightly circumscribed. The writer's job in such a situation is to render the dialogue and visuals as gracefully as possible into prose, and otherwise to avoid unnecessary flights of fancy that might jar against the writers'/producers' creative vision. ...So if that was what they wanted, I'd pretend to think about it for a couple of days, and then have the agent call them back and say "Yeah, sure, let's do it." (And then the shrieks of delight would begin. Sometimes it's useful to live this far out in the country.)
But if they wanted an original novel? A new Sherlock story?...
I would have to say no. Because my AO3 bookmarks are hip-deep in Sherlock fics, and there is no way, NO way, I could say with my hand on my heart that I was sure I wasn't going to wind up, however accidentally, borrowing or restating something I'd seen of someone else's. If I accepted that job, and then (a year, two years, five years later) someone appeared with evidence in their hands and said, "You used a situation / language that's clearly mine", I would be utterly shattered.
And would it be "legally problematic"? You bet it would. Forgive me for not spelling out all the ways it could be Bad. But even if the situation was finally resolved in the friendliest way possible for everybody concerned, the fact of what had gone wrong would hang like a shadow over every other piece of licensed work I might ever want to do. (And there probably wouldn't be a lot of those.)
So realistically speaking, the ethics of the situation would make that a challenge I wouldn't dare take. I would walk away and try my best to keep to myself the annoyance that would follow. It'd be sad, but it'd be necessary: because the lines I expect to be drawn to protect me, I must also make sure will equally protect others. It's only right.
Anyway, thanks for the question(s). Hope I've sufficiently covered the ground; and HTH.
*I almost typed that as "Valles Marinaris". Yeah, the Solar System's biggest known crevasse now suddenly full of spaghetti sauce? I almost did that. Always proof your copy three times...
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
OT7: Tongue Tied (Intro)
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In which you're not supposed to be the solution for all of the problems- but maybe you're just that; the missing piece.
Tags/Warnings: SFW, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader, Wolf!BTS, Dog!Reader, strangers to ???, fluff, some angst, insecurities & very openly emotional reader
Length: long
A/N: the next chapters will, one by one, focus more on each member getting closer to the mc.
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"She will stay in a separate space we've been renovating for her at the company building." The manager says, well aware that the seven boys are very much not on board with the whole plan. "So you'll basically just have to interact with her for the camera and on certain schedules. Listen, I know you don't like the idea but it's the best way of making you guys seem.. less.. dangerous, after all that happened." He carefully phrases.
Jungkook scoffs. Namjoon clenches his jaw at that reaction, ready to scold. Taehyung sighs, tired of the constant fighting.
It was something the company had been fearing for quite some time now. And now, it's come to a point where even the public has noticed the growing tensions within the hybrid band- everyone on edge, easily irritated by each other. Originally, everyone had always thought it would be fine if they 'grew up' alongside each other, especially with Jungkook having been so young when he joined the company and group. But it didn't really matter down the line, it seems like, because by now, the air is constantly thick with frustration.
For the fans all over the world, the group full of hybrids, a somewhat traditional 'packing wolves, has been nothing but perfect and a shining representation of how far hybrids can come nowadays in terms of reaching success and wealth. But behind closed doors, it's headaches, fights, arguments and stress for everyone involved.
From trying to somehow keep track of their heats to re-scheduling things over and over again because the person interviewing or hosting at the event might be an unmated hybrid that could set off any of the guys at just a glance. They're all of a category two, technically independent and mostly human- but sometimes, staff would like to argue against that. Jungkook and Jimin can be harder to control than a horde of toddlers sometimes, while Yoongi and Namjoon are sometimes just plain scary. Taehyung literally does what he wants together with Seokjin, and Hoseok usually keeps to himself. Its all a mess, really.
Especially now that the cracks had begun to show to the public as well.
"Why a category five though?" Jin argues from the side. "You've been complaining about us for years now. And we're the most 'normal' one might say." He air quotes as he speaks.
"If they see you being kind to a category five like her-" the manager explains himself, "-they highly likely will calm down."
"Or start letting their frustrations out on her." Namjoon disagrees. "If they smell just a hint of any of us liking her in any way they'll go rabid."
"So what? It's not like she'll properly understand the situation, or talk about it to anybody." The manager shakes his head. "She will live at the company building, like I said. That's top security around her twenty-four-seven, and she will also have regular caretakers- staff will look after her for you, you don't have to interact with her at all apart from scheduled activities. It'll be fine." He tries, and everyone sighs.
Well- it's not like they've got the last word either way.
---
Jungkook is a sensitive person.
Not as in weak, but as in, his senses are very much sharp enough to notice even the slightest changes in something. And so when the first furniture is delivered, first boxes with what he assumes to be the new hybrid's personal items, there's something in the air he can't quite put a finger on.
"Oh, Jungkook-ssi!" One of the staff almost runs into him, as he stands alone in the dark and rather small space you'll be living in soon. "I almost locked you in. Is there something you need?" She asks, and he shakes his head.
Something about the faint scent of yours clinging to some of the items placed, like the blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, makes him wonder what will happen from now on. You're being used for higher gain- and in a way, he wonders if you'll know that, or if you're not able to understand the complexity of the situation like his managers had claimed. A category five doesn't mean you're mentally challenged, after all. You're just a bit more hybrid than he, or the rest of the guys are.
And somehow, it all just suddenly feels so fucked up to him.
"No, sorry, I just wanted to.. look around I guess." He offers the staff member who nods kindly, before he leaves to go home.
Somehow feeling a little heavy inside.
---
"Am I the only one who thinks this is fucked up?" Yoongi sighs as they all laze around in the living room area of the dorm they share. "We don't even know where the fuck they get that hybrid from."
"With the way they're talking about her it feels as if she must be from a carecenter or something alike." Seokjin offers from the side. "After all, they did mention that she needs help in looking after herself." He notes, and Taehyung chimes in at that.
"I mean I get the idea but.. it's still odd to 'use' her for that. And what if she doesn't even like us?" He shakes his head. "Category five's are pretty obvious in what they're thinking. It's not like they can just tell her to act the part."
Everyone falls silent at that. The wolf hybrid has a point here- if she doesn't play the part well, what will happen then?
"Well- not that I care." Hoseok announces, getting up. "And neither should you guys. We're getting paid to entertain people, nothing more." He simply mumbles to himself, leaving to go to bed. And he's probably right too- the less the guys think about what the situation means to you, the better. And done the line, the space given to you at the company building is definitely better than any shelter or carecenter you're probably currently residing at.
Jungkook however isn't convinced. He's still remembering that odd feeling he had earlier standing in between all those things that smelled like you.
And he's got a feeling that this whole 'plan' will probably not go the way they all planned it to.
---
Despite everyone's varying levels of interest in you at first, it's pretty clear that today, the date you'll be officially moving in, the entire pack is equally as eager to get a glimpse of you.
"Remind me why you're all in my studio?" Namjoon sighs, watching everyone camp out in his small space, both Jimin and Taehyung peeking out the door.
"They're here! There right there, they just brought them in-!" Jimin whispers sharply, and suddenly even Namjoon gets up to maybe catch a glance.
"She must be young." Taehyung mumbles, watching how an elderly woman in a 'Seoul Hybrid Care Project'-jacket holds your hand as you walk next to her. Your tail is a little curled and clearly one of a canine hybrid- your ears somewhat folded downwards.
"Maybe she's just short." Namjoon argues quietly, Jungkook pushing a bit to get a glimpse too. "I mean- if she was too young to attend late shows and schedule that would be pretty dumb wouldn't it?" He wonders, and the others hum in agreement, watching as your tail lowers, your mood visibly changing as soon as it's evident you'll be staying.
They all start to feel a little bad once they have to watch you cling to the caretaker- probably your only familiar person, who attempts to make you understand that you'll stay here now. It's the first taste of what you as a category five are like- there's no covering up your emotions whatsoever, you visibly and clearly make it known that you're not happy about this situation.
The only thing that soothes the pack a little it the sight of the staff gently wiping your tear stained cheeks before leading you into your new living space, door closing behind you. Though it's odd- because somehow, the entire pack feels closer than they've been in a few years by now, everyone equally both interested and mildly worried for you.
"Okay I can't be the only one who feels this though." Taehyung suddenly perks up, the ball of squeezed together wolf hybrids breaking up as they all get back into the studio, door closing. "Right?"
"She's a category five Taehyung!" Namjoon scolds.
At that, everyone falls silent for a moment.
Because while they can't deny what Taehyung mentioned was true-
Namjoon also had a point.
---
You are, in fact, not actually that young, merely months behind Jungkook.
And Seokjin's very sharp sense of observation tells him that you're not at all unaware of your surroundings whatsoever. It seems like you want to talk often but then remember something that makes you shut up before you can even open your mouth. You're however otherwise clearly aware of what's going on, interested and curious about things you don't know. It must be frustrating to not be able to voice out your thoughts, he thinks to himself, already wondering if there could be a different way of communicating with you.
Turns out you are indeed a domestic dog hybrid, chosen for your rather reserved but friendly nature. You've been born to a mother than wanted to stay anonymous, having given you up as a newborn pup at a shelter, presumably because you're the result of infidelity.
Taehyung is, to no one's surprise, the first one to try and interact with you in the practice room. You seem a bit hesitant at first but it's very clear that you're easily warming up to him, your tail wagging every time Jimin says something that makes Taehyung laugh. The two wolves are sitting close to you, and you seem alright with that, albeit a little shy.
Which is to be expected, considering its been barely a week since you moved into the company building, and you've also never really met them.
"What're you looking for, hm?" Taehyung wonders as he watches you search around for something. You look at him at that, unsure, like you're fighting internally with yourself.
"Maybe she's too shy to say it out loud?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down close to you as well now. "You wanna whisper it maybe?" He tries, leaning in and pointing to his hybrid ear-
And to everyone's surprise you do actually sit up on your knees, cupping your hands over his ears before you whisper something.
And of course, everyone is eager to know what it was, since it makes the youngest look so caught off guard, cheeks red as he gets up to fetch a bottle of water from a table nearby.
They distract themselves for the time being by starting to actually practice, occasionally watching your reaction to their choreography. Being watched by you is actually not that weird at all- if anything, it makes them all work a bit harder as if to impress you, underline their deaths as the perfect idols they are.
Though, at the end of the day, they're also just a pack of young wolves, and it's clear.
Jungkook let's himself fall onto his back close to you, huffing in exhaustion making everyone laugh. The air feels oddly light today, as if the stress isn't actually that bad this time around. And it's especially evident in the way everyone laughs when you reach out to pet Jungkooks head as if to tell him that he worked hard, making the idol shy again.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.
---
It's your first public appearance.
Described to the public as a 'charity case', you've been somewhat officially shown in behind the scenes footage every now and then, many fans having already found some info on you from the internet. The reactions are mixed, but mostly positive- many claiming that the band and company are showing how kind the world can be by taking you in. It's probably because the company itself had made it clear that you do not actually live with the boys, but in a separate place with personal caretakers, eliminating the possibility of causing a dating rumor for now, though that might happen naturally at some point.
However, all is better than having to defend the guys fighting amongst each other like dogs over food.
The level of comfort around you varies amongst the members, which is to be expected- but it's already clear that you're very good at wrapping people around your little finger. Seokjin is holding your hand as they all walk through the airport together, and you never let go of it once, staying close to the oldest. He's become somewhat of a guardian figure for you- his calm and carefree attitude drawing you in.
He helps you buckle your seatbelt on the plane, and helps you out of your jacket like it's second nature, though he does roll his eyes at Hoseok commenting how he looks like a father. "Well at least I'm helping her, you all just ignore her or play around!" He scolds, tension rising when Taehyung starts to argue from the corner.
"Hey, no one asked you to play the part!" He barks. "We got staff for that.." he scoffs to himself, while Namjoon shakes his head.
"Guys please.." he begs quietly, though the barking doesn't die down.
"So we're just supposed to act like we care but toss her aside? How cruel is that?" Jin argues back, making Jungkook whine from close by.
"Hyung, don't shout like that-" He worries, and Seokjin is ready to really shout now, when Yoongi gets up and walks over to unbuckle your seatbelt. Only now does everyone take a moment to notice you quietly crying to yourself.
"Come on, I'll get you some tissues.." the wolf mumbles quietly to you, effectively removing you from the crossfire to have you sit next to himself instead.
It's quiet at that, except for the soft sound of you blowing your nose and whimpering a bit as Yoongi offers his silent support to you. Jin sighs as he sits back down, sound signaling the start of the flight.
It stays quiet like this until the seatbelts are allowed to be removed, an apologetic looking Jungkook walking up next to where Yoongi sits next to you. You're asleep already, having taken the rapper up on the silent offer to sleep on his lap, a pillow on his thighs offering comfort for your head. "M' sorry." The youngest mumbles quietly, running a hand over your head.
"We've got to stop, at least around her." Namjoon says, calmly. "Our pack issues are one thing, but unloading all that on her is just unfair."
"I didn't mean to shout like that.." seokjin sighs from his seat.
"And I didn't mean to get so angry either.." Taehyung apologizes.
"What's even wrong with us in the first place?" Hoseok asks, shaking his head to himself. "Its like we're just fighting these days, nothing else."
"Cause we do." Jungkook says, still petting your head. It's clear that the youngest is pretty attached to you already. "We're just complaining and arguing.." he mumbles softly, watching you sleep.
"Why.?" Jin asks himself mostly.
"Doesn't matter." Yoongi quietly offers. "But we gotta figure this shit out without getting her caught in the middle like that." He reminds everyone. "She can't talk and tell us to stop-"
"She can, though." Jungkook perks up, ears standing tall.
"What?" Namjoon is interested now. Category five hybrids typically don't talk.
"The water bottle on Tuesday. She told me what she wanted when I asked her to, you know, tell me quietly." Jungkook explains. "I think she's just- embarrassed, maybe?"
"Of what?" Hoseok wonders. "Talking in that category is impressive."
"Yeah but she- I guess she's got some trouble pronouncing words. She didn't say 'water' for example, but something like 'wadu'." He tells his packmates.
"Thats cute though." Taehyung laughs from his seat, the others chuckling as well. "Maybe at the center she got made fun of." He tries to justify.
"Could be." Namjoon nods. "But with some practice she could surely work on that issue. It would help tremendously if she at least communicates in single words." He says, and everyone agrees.
"You know.." yoongi smiles to himself, looking down on you still sleeping. "...I think she's doing something entirely different than just polishing our image already."
"Huh?" Hoseok asks.
"Dont you notice?" The rapper asks the pack. "Everytime it's about her, we agree. No fighting. We suddenly problem-solve and actually talk." He explains.
"...I-" Namjoon stares at you at that revelation, realizing it as well. "You're right."
Maybe you're not just a publicity stunt after all-
But an actual solution for the root of the problem.
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zyrlovesmizu · 1 month
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y’know I respect a fan’s choice about how they want to view mizu but tiny ramble about it here. this isn’t any sort of discussion or ‘matter of fact’ essay, just a simple rant about headcannons about her being TRANS and her SEXUALITY.
Warning: extremely long.
Given the numerous limitations that would arise from traveling as a woman, I find it very difficult to understand why some people believe Mizu is transgender when it's obvious that she is hiding this information in order to survive. This was particularly true during the Edo period, when women were dehumanized and treated like objects because we only ever see them as a slave or working in a brothel (majority of the show at least). They were also seen having to depend on men for nearly everything, as demonstrated in the episode where the mother and daughter were left outside to freeze to death since her husband was not present to accompany them. Along with that subtle hints were presented to us that show how comfortable she is when in touch with her femininity like a few moments in the episode where she came back to Swords-father Eiji’s hut. Though, I can definitely see why people would label her as transmasc with the theory that she must’ve grown so accustomed to this sort of lifestyle, she’d perhaps just become transmasc in the later episodes. We’ll never know!
Next, not gonna lie, I’m insanely guilty of viewing Mizu as a bisexual women despite feeling that she is leaning more toward heterosexuality in terms of her sexuality. I have the biggest fattest crush on her so I have no problem stating how much I'm crying and wailing over this. Like c’mon, let's be real, I guarantee that 98% of simps are female, and I’m sure every single one of us has mentioned once that we can all treat her better than Mikio and Taigen. Speaking of Taigen, I HAVE to admit that him and Mizu do have the best chemistry compared to everyone in the show. It’s clear in the way she pulls him away from those shooting arrows, knocks him out becahse she fears for his safety if he follows, saving him from Fowler's castle even though she could have easily just left him to die and slain Fowler, etc. At first, I would’ve assumed she’d have trauma with men especially after Mikio’s betrayal which might’ve led her to stray away from any romantic attraction with men—or anybody in general. Honestly, I have dedicated my time to search for ANY hint (ok not rlly) that she might be attracted to women, but the only time I ever see her become flustered by one is when she appears to be taken aback by the prostitues she tried to ask for directions to the Shindo Dojo. Plus, there were only two occasions where she interacted with Akemi that people use to automatically ship them which is when she saw Akemi in her carriage (not sure of the specific name) and pinned her down in Madame Kaji's brothel. I can’t imagine them as a couple in later episodes, something I’m been dying to see. Though, it’s hard to determine what was running in her mind during the scene where they both stole glances at each other, especially since there was no sort of indication in her inner thoughts or emotions, so it’s normal to assume the above as well. (Despite that, I’m still rooting for AT LEAST bisexual Mizu because for the love of god and for the sake of all of the gay women here, PLEASE. /j)
I may make jokes about these headcannons like playfully hating on the TaiMizu ships. All in all, I’m sure the fans are mature enough to understand that these are meant to be lighthearted jokes and that people interpret a character and show in various ways and it’s normal! Even if I can’t comprehend the theory or feel as though it is a little too complicated/really negotiable, remember to support what you want, ship what you want, make whatever headcannons, nobody’s stopping you! Don’t be too afraid to just announce what you feel about the show. All I ask is to avoid SERIOUSLY cancelling someone just because of their own feelings and opinions. In the end, they’re stilll fictional characters (😞😞) who have no sort of physical form of any sort so do whatever, as long as it isn’t really THAT problematic in a sense (e.g. romanticising rape), go for it.
(Sorry for bringing her sexuality into this, I’m aware of how the show is definitely not centering on this and not every single thing has to be LGBTQ-related but I noice it’s something constantly brought up in the fandom. As someone whose phrasing and essay writing skills suck, I’m still learning bit by bit about how the world works in terms of differing views on things. I may not support your idea of a character but I RESPECT it! If I came off as rude, I’m sorry, remember it’s just my random midnight thoughts🙏)
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magicfootballstuff · 1 year
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Strictly Unprofessional - part 4 (alexia putellas x reader)
Summary: You’ve just landed your dream job as a photographer at FC Barcelona Femení. The only problem? You hooked up with the captain five years ago and haven’t seen her since.
Part 4/9
Read other parts here.
It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders now that you’ve properly reconnected with Alexia.
No more walking on eggshells around her, Alexia is no longer the intimidating captain who could ruin your life with a single rumour. If anything, sharing this secret between you has bonded you. You speak more, hang out with her sometimes on away trips when you’re not working, and you’re reminded exactly why you clicked with her so easily all those years ago.
On a mild day in October, you’re outside taking pictures of the players during training when they stop for a water break and Alexia approaches you standing on the sidelines.
“Can I have a go?” she asks, gesturing to your camera.
You’re normally very protective over your equipment, especially in the hands of amateurs, but Alexia’s hopeful smile as she asks has you weak and passing across your camera almost immediately.
“Point and click, right?” Alexia asks, examining the camera, before aiming the lens at some of her teammates, who are passing a ball around as they wait for training to resume.
“You’re a natural.”
You have a second smaller camera on hand and you take it out of its bag, switch it on and point it at Alexia to capture some pictures of her with the camera. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t notice you at first, not until she turns to seek your approval and spots you aiming the second camera at her.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” she protests. “I’m supposed to be behind the camera for once, not in front of it.”
“It’s my job to take pictures that the fans will love and they’re gonna love seeing a different side to their captain.”
Alexia lifts the camera again, but instead of pointing it towards her fellow players, she aims it at you and takes a photo.
“Fine, but I get to take pictures of you too.”
You really should have seen that coming.
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“Do you know how I remembered where I’d met you before?”
You quickly check that nobody else is close enough to hear your conversation. Though you’ve been getting closer, it’s very rare that either of you actually brings up what happened in Ibiza, and you’re still a little wary of what might happen if anybody else found out.
“How?” you ask.
“You made a comment at the dinner table in Tenerife about how you liked taking pictures of people living their lives and it reminded me of something I’d heard before,” Alexia explains. “You said something similar when we first met in Ibiza.”
“It’s my favourite part of the job,” you admit with a nod.
“Isn’t it time somebody caught you in your element? Just do your thing. Pretend I’m not here.”
If it was anybody else you’d protest. But you’ve got a soft spot for Alexia and her argument is a good one. A small part of you is excited to see how Alexia will capture you, even with her inexperience she has a connection and a chemistry with you that none of the other players have.
You turn back to the training field and point your camera at the players, ignoring the clicks of your other camera in Alexia’s hands as you get some shots of Lucy and Mapi passing a ball between each other without letting it touch the ground. After a couple of minutes, you’re so engrossed in your own work that you forget about Alexia completely until she comes to stand next to you.
“What do you think?” Alexia asks, tilting the screen of the camera in your direction so you can see the photos she’s taken.
You let your smaller camera hang around your neck and take the one that Alexia has been using so you can see her photos. You’ve never seen pictures of yourself with a camera before and it’s weird to see yourself working, but Alexia has caught a selection of photos of you, some of you with the camera held up as you take pictures, some of you frowning at the camera as you check out your own work.
“Do I really stick my tongue out like that?” you ask, when you reach a picture where you’ve got the camera held up and your tongue caught between your teeth as you try to find the perfect shot. 
“Sometimes,” Alexia grins. “I think it’s cute though.”
“This is a really nice one,” you say, as you reach one photo in particular that stands out.
Alexia has photographed you from behind, at enough of an angle that you can still see the camera in your hands, but also the blurred figures of the players you’re taking a picture of in the background. Whether the composition is intentional or purely a beginner’s fluke, she’s captured you doing your job perfectly.
A whistle blows somewhere in the distance signaling that it’s time for the players to regroup and resume training but Alexia makes no move.
“So do you think I’ve got a career in photography after football?” Alexia teases you.
“With a bit of practice, maybe.”
“Well if you ever need an apprentice…”
“I’ll keep you in mind,” you promise her, reaching out to touch her arm affectionately.
Your hand makes contact with her skin just as Alexia’s eyes meet your gaze and it’s like time stands still. You feel warmth running through your veins, her skin electric beneath your fingertips and you’re taken right back to Ibiza, dancing and flirting and touching until you were leading her away to the privacy of your hotel room.
The moment is interrupted by a shout from Mapi, who jogs over to where the two of you stand, a grin on her face as she teases Alexia.
“Ale, just because you’re the captain, doesn’t mean you can skip training!” 
“I’ve decided to swap football for photography,” Alexia announces to Mapi.
“No you haven’t,” counters Mapi. “As if you’d give up football. Is she any good?”
Mapi addresses this last part to you.
“I’ve seen worse,” you tease Alexia, as you put your spare camera away.
“I thought you said I was good!”
“I said you weren’t bad for a beginner.” You gesture at the pitch, where the rest of the team are gathering to continue training, and say, “Go. Mapi’s right, aren’t you supposed to be setting an example?”
“I don’t think I like you two ganging up on me,” Alexia says with a pout. “I expect this from her,” she points a finger at Mapi, “but not from you.”
Alexia jogs away, leaving you alone with Mapi, who grins at you instead of following her captain back to training.
“Is it just me or were you two flirting?” she asks.
Your cheeks burn at getting caught out and you pretend to be busy with your camera to avoid having to look at Mapi.
“I don’t know what you think you're seeing but that would be unprofessional.”
“Okay,” Mapi says, starting to walk backwards towards the rest of her teammates. “If you say so.”
———
A picture of Alexia with the camera finds its way onto the Barcelona social media channels later that day.
You post one of the photos she took of you on your personal Instagram, giving Alexia credit in the caption. She reposts it to her stories and you get an influx of notifications from her fans.
——— 
Champions League nights might be your favourite nights.
It shouldn’t make a difference - a football match is a football match and your job remains pretty much exactly the same whether the team is playing in front of two hundred fans on an artificial turf or tens of thousands in a huge stadium. But there’s a buzz around the entire team in the build up to each Champions League game that spreads from the pitch into the back offices too. 
Tonight the team is playing at Camp Nou. You can tell the occasion means so much to all the players, even the ones who have played here several times before. The stadium is huge, stands stretching up almost infinitely towards the sky and even you, who hasn’t grown up dreaming of playing football in front of massive crowds, feel like you’ve stepped onto holy ground as you walk out of the tunnel with your camera hanging around your neck.
“This place is special, isn’t it?” Alexia says, draping an arm around your shoulders as you walk across the Camp Nou turf before the game. “Just wait until it’s full of fans.”
The players are checking out the pitch and you’re taking photos. Alexia seems to have realised that if she stays by your side while you’re working, you’re actually less likely to take pictures of her than her other teammates and you’re not going to complain about getting to spend more time in her company.
“My dad brought me here once when I was about twelve,” you tell Alexia. “He’s got three daughters and I was the most tomboyish so he took me. I wasn’t even that interested in football but we were up near the top and I remember being amazed at seeing so many people in one place all cheering for the same team.”
“My dad used to bring me here too,” Alexia says. “Maybe that’s why I love this place so much. Sometimes I wish he could have had the chance to see me play here.”
“I bet he’d be incredibly proud of you.”
Alexia’s hand tightens on your shoulder.
“I hope so.”
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neon-junkie · 9 months
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Chef!Crosshair x Server!Reader Headcanons
This has been stuck in my drafts for a while, so I figured I'd tidy it up, and hit post. Reader is gender-neutral. 2k words. I think Crosshair would deffo be a chef in a modern setting! A little self indulgent as I'm a bartender/server... hehehehe...
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Crosshair isn't quite the top dog, but second in line. Still, he runs the kitchen, and Maker forbids anybody to step out of line when Crosshair is on shift.
Or in general, for that matter. Crosshair has no problem breaking one of his chefs down to tears if they forget one simple task, like day dotting food stock, or ensuring that the fridges are at the correct temperature.
"A baby could do this job better than you. Why can't you pull your karking socks up, and get some sense through your thick skull?!"
Crosshair is a big meanie, to put it blankly. He has respect for those who do their job right, but if you're acting like an idiot in his kitchen, then all hell will break loose.
He's snappy to the front of house staff, too. Including the servers. Didn't scrape the plates enough? That deserves a telling off. Rushing him for orders? Fuck off. And if you dare steal a chip? Might as well die.
Crosshair doesn't like mess, clutter, or laziness, and everybody knows damn well how much it irritates him. Just don't be stupid, essentially.
Anyway, you've applied to this popular street food style restaurant. It's not posh, far from it. The food is fatty and filling, the perfect hangover cure, and you're guilty of being a regular.
The Manager, Hunter, doesn't seem surprised when you apply, and your interview is essentially a chit-chat, getting to know each other, seeing as you've already met from coming in on the regular.
It's finally time for you to put your uniform on, and be introduced to the rest of the staff. Everybody is lovely, to say the least, as you've met them before from being a customer.
Then you go into the back of house, and meet those who have blessed your stomach time and time again.
Hunter's eyes trail the kitchen before he asks, "where's Cross?" and another staff member shrugs whilst replying, "out the back."
Hunter, after letting out a grumble, leads you to the back entrance, explaining that this is the staff smoking area. Just as he's about to step outside, the door opens, and a tired-looking man in pristine chef's whites stands in the doorway.
He lets out another puff of his cigarette before discarding it, only to choke on the smoke as his eyes meet yours. His hand comes up to clear his throat, and you notice the tattoos and burn marks scattered over his toned arms. He's clear of jewellery, but you instantly know he's the type to wear rings and chains when he's off shift.
"Cross, I want to introduce you to our new server," Hunter pulls his gaze from yours, and after saying your name, Crosshair fails to make eye contact with you.
Only now do you notice his face tattoo, darkly contrasting against his silver hair. Is it dyed? Or is he really this stressed out from his job?
"Nice to meet you," Crosshair mutters as he extends his hand, and shakes yours. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have stock to count."
And with that, he's pushing past you and Hunter, disappearing into the kitchen.
Hunter turns back to you with a sigh, "he doesn't talk much. Not a fan of strangers, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."
Oh, how right Hunter is.
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Your first week went well, and you're slowly starting to establish a place for yourself within your new work environment.
Today is your usual weekday shift. Not too busy, but not slow paced either. The lunch rush has finished, and you're tasked with cleaning up tables. Another stack of plates is brought into the kitchen, and you're going through them one by one, scraping the leftovers into the bin before stacking them on the shelves for the pot washer to clean, when he's back from his cigarette break.
You can feel somebody's eyes on the back of your head, practically burning a hole through your skull. Curious, you peer over your shoulder, and lock eyes with Crosshair.
He's attempting to prep some vegetables, and narrowly misses his finger whilst chopping them, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Only, once your eyes meet his, Crosshair looks back to his task, acting as if he wasn't just staring at you.
So, you turn away, only to look back at him when his voice fills the air.
"It's nice to have some competence around here," Crosshair comments. You let out a soft "hm?" so Crosshair continues. "Most of the other servers leave their plates a mess, barely scraped, stacked in the wrong order. It's nice to have a server who knows how to do their job."
"It's not like it's hard," you say with a shrug.
"Exactly," Crosshair looks back up at you, and you notice the upwards turn to his lips.
You return to your task after matching his smile, and you're both content with the silence in the air.
Once finished, it's time for your break. Whilst you would usually ring your staff food through without a second thought, you decide to ask Crosshairs permission first.
"Hey, I know you're doing prep, but do you mind if I ring my food through? I can wait if-"
"-What would you like, Sweetheart?" Crosshair asks, wiping his hands clean as he makes his way over to the grill.
"Uhm… a burger?" your mind falls blank, mostly because you're not used to having a chef seem this happy with cooking.
"Is that it?" Crosshair raises his brow. "Come on, you can come up with something more creative than that. Tell me what toppings you like."
Before you know it, you're going into depth about exactly how you like your burgers. All the while, Crosshair is nodding in agreement, and even chimes in with comments here and there. You soon ring your order up, and whilst waiting for it to cook, you return to cleaning your tables, all whilst your heart is pounding with butterflies in your chest.
Back in the kitchen, Crosshair catches himself smiling as he cooks your meal. He doesn't even realise how sappy he's being until he squirts the burger sauce onto the bun in the shape of a heart, soon to be hidden by a patty cooked to your liking.
"What's got you all cheery?" Hunter questions as he peers in the kitchen, bewildered at Crosshairs content expression.
Crosshair slips his emotional mask back on as he meets his brother's eyes, "just excited for my cigarette break."
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One month into your new job, and you're more than happy here. The customers are nice, your coworkers are great, and the food is to die for!
Sure, you're in the honeymoon phase, but you'll enjoy it whilst it lasts.
Crosshair is slowly opening up to you, but he's been the toughest egg to crack. Whilst everybody else has no issue with jumping straight into conversation, Crosshair tends to keep his mouth shut, minus the odd hum and one-word reply here and there.
Only, you've seen him speak to others. Well, not speak… scream! Crosshair has no issue with shouting at his cooks over the smallest of things. He's even barked at the other servers, too. You know that he's overall disliked within the workplace, but sometimes, you can understand Crosshairs point of view.
He's right. It's not hard to do your job right, keep your area tidy, and be efficient. Maker knows how your co-workers manage to screw the smallest of things up, and sure, you've made mistakes here and there, and always bent over backwards to fix them.
But despite Crosshair's tough demeanour, deep down, he's a real sap. Or at least, he is towards you.
You've noticed that you can get away with certain things, such as nibbling on a few leftover chips whilst waiting for orders to be plated up, or using different abbreviations when ringing up orders.
You didn't even realise that wasn't the norm, until a fellow coworker commented, "Crosshair lets you eat the leftover fries? He swatted my hand away when I tried to do that, just like everybody else."
Maybe it's because you bring Crosshair a cup of coffee to his liking at the start of every shift? Or because you always let out comments here and there about how good the food is presented?
Maybe it's just because Crosshair has a thing for you, as much as he denies it. You are his favourite server, but Maker forbid that anybody knows, despite it being painfully obvious.
Obvious to everyone, but you.
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You finally catch on during one stressful shift. A customer, as cursed as they are, broke you down to tears. You remained stiff lipped whilst taking a beating, but the second you entered the back of house, tears started rolling down your cheeks.
Hunter takes the burden of the customer off your shoulders, and orders you to go and take a moment to yourself out back.
The fire exit door swings open, and you storm out, holding back a choked sob as you take a seat on one of the many empty crates resting against the building.
Your head falls into your hands, elbows resting on your knees, and finally alone, you begin to cry.
Only, you're not alone. Crosshair is on the other side of the door, back resting against the wall with a forgotten cigarette pressed between his fingers. He can hear you crying, and after swallowing his feelings, and allowing them to settle in his uneasy stomach, he discards his cigarette and decides to approach you.
"Customers, huh?" Crosshair questions as he takes a seat beside you, not bothering to ask if you need a friend. He knows damn well that you do.
A series of incoherent words fall from your lips, but Crosshair can piece them together. You're venting about what just happened, mumbling and babbling away, blowing off steam with your favourite chef by your side.
In the midst of offloading your anger, Crosshair decides to weave his arm around your shoulders, and gently pull you into his grasp.
He doesn't even realise what he's done until your head comes to rest on his shoulder, lashes fluttering against his sensitive Adams apple, still venting away whilst a hand caresses your shoulder and back.
"And you wonder why I work in the kitchen," Crosshair comments, earning a laugh from you.
"Maybe I should switch, and start working in the kitchen with you," you say with a light chuckle.
Despite his stomach turning at the idea, Crosshair puts on a smile as he replies, "that wouldn't be so bad. I'm sure I could put up with you."
"Put up with me?" you repeat with a gasp, straightening your back to meet his eyes. All Crosshair does is give you a shrug, with a cheeky grin on his lips. "Phfft, I'd be the one putting up with you. I've seen how you bark at your chefs," you continue.
"I don't bark," Crosshair says with a playful glare. "I bite."
You can't help but let out a laugh, soon returning your head to his shoulder. "You wouldn't bite me," you boast.
Crosshair allows his cheek to rest against the top of your head. "I might do," he says eagerly, "but only if you waste stock."
"Oh, I'd definitely burn a burger or two," you admit, knowing damn-well that you're a riot in the kitchen.
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In the midst of your nattering, Hunter makes his way through the back of house to find you, knowing that you're taking a breather outside.
Only he stops once he overhears your voice, and a certain chef talking to you.
Smiling to himself, Hunter decides that you don't need him - you have somebody else to take care of you, somebody who has been eager to talk to you, but is far more timid than he lets on.
Hunter's little plan is going smoothly, now that Crosshair is finally speaking to you, rather than keeping to himself in the kitchen.
After all, Crosshair is the main reason why you were hired. It's his own fault, drunkenly admitting that he thought a certain regular customer was attractive, and definitely his type.
Fate took its course, and Hunter found your CV in his pile only a few days later.
You were beyond perfect for the job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be even better for a certain chef.
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sgiandubh · 8 months
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Sasnak City - a different view
I will never encourage you enough to read the whole comments' thread of a post you liked. Otherwise, it's blink and you'll miss it, as I almost missed the only feedback of the Sasnak City event we have on this side of the spectrum: @rosfrank's. She graciously agreed to let me repost them and I truly thank her for the kindness.
Her comments were made under two different posts, so I collated them and vetted their content as much as I could, given the unprecedented context of the SAG-AFTRA strike and the scarcity of details. I did not watch the recap on Instagram, because I am not a fan of the format.
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I had no idea Sasnak City was a consistent partner of the Camp Encourage for autistic children project. At least since 2020, as a very superficial Google search shows:
...in 2020, with RR...
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... in 2022....
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What is Camp Encourage?
This:
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Do you have any idea of what it is to be the mother of an autistic child? I don't have this honor. I have never been through the stress and the pain of looking for the right solution, for the good therapist. I never had to swallow my impotent tears and fight with the angel, fruitlessly asking myself why did it happen to me.
I can assure you that career, money and the white picket fence house which mortgage you just paid off do not matter. Not when you wait dejected, with your well-garnished checkbook and no hope in sight, until the good doctor will finally see you. Not when your child is a desperately inaccessible fortress. Not when you tell yourself you just can't take it anymore and yet miraculously find out that yes, you eventually can, over and over and over again.
Before judging, you might want to take a moment.
Side note: the man who supposedly is not good with kids interacted with the organizer's autistic son. On stage (try and take an autistic person out of their comfort zone, anyone?). Oh. What an inconvenient truth, again.
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Different figures circulate. I think this is pretty close to reality and also to the 'small and personal fan convention format'. Not sure it made anybody rich overnight, after you deduce all the costs - part of proceeds went to the above charity, anyways. Zealots would like more transparency, perhaps. With which moral authority?
Second bone of contention and a particularly unsavory one, at that, the disrespect of the SAG-AFTRA's strike rules:
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What was I telling you, the other day?
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As for the limbo, I cannot believe no one bothered to look around a bit for confirmation. On Facebook, for example:
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They did their due diligence homework. This announcement was posted on July 14, 2023, with a solidarity with the strike hashtag to boot. Propaganda? Hypocrisy? Oh, give me a break. It is legally impeccable.
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There you go. No mention of the show anywhere - check. Screened questions - check. Only the SS paraphernalia (pics, etc) supplied - check. Books still ok for autographs (at S's discretion to go ahead or not, which means SAG-AFTRA is ok with, by the way) - check. Make lemonade when life gives you lemons and 'be creative' - check.
Where is the problem? Why certain sleuthing skills suddenly vanish when it's about formulating a balanced, reasonable POV?
Let me guess. It's all about the "go away, ugly socks, your story sucks" syndrome. Oh.
You'd wish, duckies. You'd wish.
I am not these people's lawyer. Playing Atticus Finch completely ceased to interest me sometime around 1998 AD. I even doubt we can stand each other IRL, for reasons. But I am not discussing people, here. I am discussing and debunking a homespun web of self-righteous lies.
Thank you, @rosfrank. Your gesture was generous and very, very brave.
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estrellami-1 · 11 months
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The Bet
So @artiststarme wrote this blurb about the boys’ first serious argument being about how Steve doesn’t like Ozzy Osbourne. I was on my KNEES in the comment section asking if I could flesh it out, and this is the result. I hope you like it!! ❤️
The thing is, they actually have a really healthy relationship.
Everyone mentions it, whether in response to how similar it is to something their parents do, or something the complete opposite of what their parents do.
“Wait,” Max said once. “Weren’t you just arguing?”
Steve and Eddie looked at each other. “We disagreed,” Steve started cautiously. “That doesn’t mean we were arguing or fighting. Sometimes a disagreement doesn’t end in yelling, y’know? Actually it never has to end in yelling, but people are messy and emotional and that’s what it usually ends up as. But… no. We weren’t really arguing.”
Mike narrowed his eyes at Steve when he came to watch Hellfire once. “What’re you doing here?”
Steve shrugged, smiling. “Watching.”
“Why? You don’t even like D&D.”
“I don’t hate it. And Eddie likes it. We make time to engage in things the other likes. Share interests.”
Mike’s nose wrinkled as he thought about it. “Share interests?”
“That is what I said. He watches basketball with me. Can’t tell me a single thing about it, but he watches and gets excited whenever I do.”
“And we share music with each other,” Eddie added, smirking. “Stevie here’s officially a fan of Dio.”
The thing is, they don’t really argue. It gets to the point where people are starting to bet on when and what their first fight would be about.
Eddie brings it up during band practice one day. “I just don’t get it,” he says. “Steve and I have, arguably, the healthiest relationship out of anybody we know, and now everyone’s fucking betting on our first argument? Do they want us to fight? Do they want us to break up?”
“I mean,” Jeff starts cautiously, “You two are an unlikely pair. He’s part of the group that bullied us in high school. You two couldn’t really be more different if you tried. Like, I get that opposites attract or whatever, but some similarities could be a good thing, y’know?”
Eddie stares for a minute, then abruptly says, “Okay, so I’m not sure about the key on the first song,” and that’s it. Band practice continues.
Eddie, however, is stuck on that moment. He thinks about it all the way home, is preoccupied enough that Steve surprises him when he walks over and slides a hand over his back. “Eds?”
Eddie jumps slightly before turning to face Steve, inadvertently dislodging the hand on his back. “Steve?” Steve stays quiet, lets him think, put the words in the right order. “Do… do you think we’re too different?”
Steve jerks back in shock. “What? Eddie, where is this coming from?”
Eddie shakes his head, sighs, drags fingers through his hair. Won’t meet Steve’s eyes. “No, sorry, it’s stupid, just drop it.”
Steve ducks to catch his gaze, smiling hopefully up at him. “Hey. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“I know,” Eddie says, then turns around. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you,” Steve returns. “To answer your question, though… I don’t think we’re too different. I mean, We’re working out pretty fine right now. We communicate, we work out our problems… we love each other, plain and simple. We try to get into each others interests. Sure, there are probably things each of us will never really love—you and basketball, for example, and I just don’t understand the hype surrounding Ozzy Osbourne—but-”
“Wait,” Eddie interrupts, brows furrowing. “You don’t get the hype surrounding Ozzy Osbourne?”
Steve shrugs. “No, not really. I don’t like his music.”
“Oh, that- that’s great.” He huffs a hysterical laugh and begins to pace. “I play him constantly, Steve, and you’ve never once said anything?”
“I don’t-”
“And if that’s a lie, what else? D&D? Metallica? Dio?”
“That’s not-”
“Hell, I told Mike that you liked Dio! Was that a lie?”
“No, it-”
“Do I have to go to Mike fuckin’ Wheeler and tell him I lied? Because you don’t tell me things like ‘I don’t like Ozzy Osbourne’?”
“It’s called being in a relationship,” Steve says, louder than either of them had been up to that point. “And I could say the same of you! I know you hate sports. I know you don’t understand basketball and you think football is boring. You refuse to run with me. I know you don’t like it but I thought that’s part of loving each other. Doing so in spite of everything we don’t like. Or has it all been an act for you? Is it all a character you’re playing?” He snaps his mouth shut, takes a few deep breaths, and shakes his head. “I’m going home. Come to me when you’re ready to talk, instead of throwing accusations at me.”
And there Eddie’s left, gripping onto the kitchen counter, watching as Steve walks out the door.
A few days later, Robin Buckley storms in. “Edward Munson, what the hell did you do?”
“Whoa there, missy,” Wayne says. “What’s got you up in a huff?”
Robin does, indeed, huff. “Eddie upset Steve.”
Wayne raises a brow, considers her, then nods. “How about a cup of tea after you’re done yellin’ at him?”
Robin stops short, thinks about it, and nods. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
Wayne just chuckles and shoos her in the direction of Eddie’s room.
She slams the door open, watching as Eddie jumps a foot into the air, his wide eyes opening even wider as he realizes who he’s looking at. “Yeah, dipshit, it’s me,” she says, crossing her arms. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know how upset Steve is? He doesn’t know if he’s still your boyfriend, and I’m honestly considering telling him to end it now. What the hell could’ve happened to make you avoid him like you’ve been doing? You and I may be friends, but Steve and I are platonic-with-a-capital-p soulmates, and he’ll always come first.”
Eddie gapes at her. “I- he-” he groans and buries his head in his hands. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”
“Majorly,” Robin agrees. “I’ve half a mind to not let you see him, actually, except I know how sneaky you are, and I know you’d find a way regardless. If you thought it was important enough.”
“If-” Eddie gapes again. “He’s the most important thing. I was upset, and I took some things to heart that I really shouldn’t have, and oh, holy shit, I need to talk to him-”
Robin nods approvingly. “Go fix it, Munson.” She leans casually against his doorframe, then says as if completely changing the topic, “y’know, Nancy’s been teaching me to shoot. It’s fun.”
Eddie pales appropriately. “Robin Buckley, you are the scariest woman on the planet, second only to Nancy, and no one deserves you,” he says seriously, laughing when she nods.
Robin wanders back out to the kitchen, where Wayne hands her a mug with a grin. “Heard you gave ‘im hell.”
“Yup,” Robin answers. “He’s gonna go fix it. If he doesn’t, I hope you’ll be okay living on your own.”
Wayne shrugs, an amused twist to his mouth. “I survived thirty-eight years on my own. I think I can do it again.”
“Good,” Robin says, and that’s that, and they both turn to watch as Eddie races out the door.
“Shit shit shit,” Eddie mutters as he throws himself into the driver’s seat. He turns the car on and curses again as fucking Ozzy Osbourne blasts through the speakers. He ejects the tape and tossed it behind him, prepared to sit in silence on the way to Steve’s.
Eleven and a half minutes later, Eddie pulls up to Steve’s house and knocks on the door, shifting impatiently.
Steve opens the door twenty-seven seconds later, and twelve minutes after leaving his house, Eddie says, “I’m so sorry.”
It’s the first thing out of his mouth, flying out practically without permission. There was a plan, a script, but he sees Steve’s hazel eyes and forgets everything he’d ever known.
Steve regards him, then nods and moves aside, inviting him in with a wave of his hand.
“I got really insecure about something and exploded instead of just talking it through,” Eddie continues. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. I just-” he tears a hand through his hair, makes a frustrated sound.
Steve gently touches his arm, gets his hand out of his hair, directs him to sit on a couch. “I know,” he says quietly, then sighs. “And I owe you an apology. It takes two to argue. I shouldn’t have gotten riled up when you did. It didn’t help anything.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Eddie whispers, desperate to make him understand. “Stevie. This is completely on me.”
“How about we start over?” Steve suggests. “You asked if we were too different. Where’d you get that idea?”
“The band,” Eddie admits. “I was thinking out loud, wondering why everyone had started a betting pool on our first argument, and Jeff said that he thinks it’s because we’re really different. And then I kept thinking about it and got insecure about it. And then you said what you did, about not liking Ozzy, and that really got me insecure because that was the first real compliment I gave you.” Steve blinks, confused. “In the Upside Down? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?”
“Oh, shit,” Steve whispers, understanding trickling in.
“So I thought- I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought it was all fake, that since you didn’t like or accept the compliment, or whatever…” he shakes his head. “It really is stupid. And I’m so sorry I let it go so far.”
Steve sighs. “And I’m sorry. I’d completely forgotten about that complement. I do know how much that means to you, though. And I might not like the guy’s music, but I’ve got no opinions on the man himself. I guess I should’ve specified. And like I said earlier, I never should’ve risen to the bait. I never should’ve said what I did about sports and exercise. So I’m sorry, too.” He holds a tentative hand up, and Eddie pushes it out of the way in favor of wrapping his arms around Steve, who huffs a laugh and returns the gesture. “Love you, Eds,” he murmurs.
“Love you, Stevie. ‘M sorry.”
“‘S alright. I’m sorry too.”
“‘S alright.” They both giggle and pull back a bit, just to lean in again and press their lips together.
“Next time we talk about it,” Steve mutters after they pull apart.
“Agreed,” Eddie says, then pauses. “So who do you think won the bet about our first argument?”
Permanent Taglist:
@justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme
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mobiused · 29 days
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is it too late to ask for said actual nuanced statement about your feelings on the way loona has split up and how you feel about supporting each of the factions as a fan
No :0 Okay well this posted early accidentally come back when I've edited it with the answer you seek; edit here it is
As anybody who follows me and actually listens to what I post knows, yes, I was disappointed with the choice that the 5 members in modhaus made.
The reason is of course Jaden Jeong's involvement in the conditioned that caused the members' suffering. I honestly do not care to "respect" the members' choice when, firstly, they're public figures, which means they're in a position where they open themselves to judgement, having surpassed what it means to be a regular person into an overman; hence, idol (no this isn't lore) (yes it is) and it is parasocial to think we as fans owe them the kind of blind devout respect that is reserved for people you know and are close to. We, of course, need to respect them as people even if they are idols which leads to my next point. Secondly, they're adult women who are capable of making their own choices. It is only patronizing, infantilising and self delusionary to cheer them on for every choice they make void of criticism. If I respect them as a person, that means I care about the decisions they make enough to be able to disagree with them. The only decisions you respect unconditionally are from your God (if you have faith) or someone who has got you fucked up.
of course all of this is only my opinion to be clear ^^;
So to continue, I don't respect their decision to join modhaus. However I do accept their decision and think of them no less as people - that's very important to me for people to be aware of! That may have sounded harsh but I only have strong feelings because I care.
When it comes to modhaus vs ctd, to ME it feels like a faction of people who are willing to ignore a history of mistreatment to blindly follow their idols because that's what idolatry is versus a faction who are distrusting and reluctant to give a second chance to a man (and his company) who have done them wrong. And of course bias vs bias.
Regarding why I don't hold ctd to the same standard as modhaus; one is an established company with another group under their belt and the other is a company that formed because Hyunjin asked really niceys. The "mistakes" that modhaus are making, like having Jaden and doing NFTs and having loss of the members' autonomy to give fans control as a business model (to be frank, I don't care about missing english subtitles or those small things, its whatever) are much more severe to me than CTD fumbling the bag in ways that only affect them financially. Sorry I don't care about them picking venues that are too big for them on a concert, I don't think it's that big a deal.
In this way, I think cloo vs ourii, ctd vs modhaus, is much more than the preference people have for the idols actually in the companies but rather an ideological thing. Can you put the past (that isn't yours to begin with) behind you to stan a group with no guarantee of being completely safe and in control, or are you going to be wary of a company that has done little to demonstrate how it's protecting the girls' best interests. At least that's how it looks to me.
And it's weird how we dont see Chuu & Yves akgaes right? And I think that's because the companies are such unknown elements that it's nowhere near as polarising to support them, like there's no reason not to.
And I do think there is a lot of us vs them going on. (some) People who are artms member stans who have become full-blooded ouriis have made it their mission to find any excuse to bring CTD down - maybe out of a guilty conscience vengeance for the criticism that modhaus has been getting. And the same can definitely be said about cloos who just want more reasons to shit on modhaus even though the problems are inconsequential (see? I'm not wholly biased)
In summary I just think it's sad that it's had to have been this divisive. If the loona members weren't in the position that they were - that no company was willing to accept them bar modhaus, and the members who got out first didn't feel obligated to go to modhaus, since CTD - and other places - weren't an option, things maybe would've turned out differently. Or maybe they wouldn't have, and there will always be fanwars regardless.
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zeegaazeegaah · 1 year
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could you maybe do something with gavi where youre dating but youre a famous model whos known for having lots of bfs and being a party girl and he gets a bit insecure because all the media are saying your cheating on him, but you assure him hes enough and you go to an event together looking really cute and its just fluff,, sorry if its long 😭♥️
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fame; gavi
word count: 2,305
a/n: There might be parts or sentences that might offend you. Please take them with a grain of salt. They are for the plot to make sense. Remember, this is all purely fiction. You're reading fan fiction.
It would be a blatant lie to say there are no pros to being -what today's society considers- beautiful because her beauty has gotten her this far. From being a mere teenager some years ago, she went on to being one of the top models in the world doing endless shows, endorsing brands one after another, and being in advertisements. Her beauty allowed her to pay her parents back for the support they've always given her, it allowed her to buy them a luxurious house, dress them in luxurious clothing, it allowed her siblings to buy cars, and live in nice apartments with their partners.
Now here's the problem. Men want her. Women do as well but it's not the same. One would stalk you, and be so obsessed with you to the point you have to think of implementing restraining orders against them while the other, wouldn't even think of reaching such lengths. Even if they do, it can't be as scary. Being a woman this successful at her young age has equal, if not more, cons than pros. One glance at someone at a private party of some multi-millionaire and they think you're in love with them. Of course, they would, not just anybody attends these parties. With the amount of money they have, their entire personality is based on that which allows them to delude themselves into thinking anybody wants them while completely forgetting the fact that she is an independent woman who has just as much money as them.
She is not as easy as the media portrays her to be. Surely a grown woman like her would pursue someone who interests her, especially, when she can have whoever she wants but that doesn't mean she dates everyone she lies her eyes upon just for the heck of it. When you're a woman who is pretty and rich and successful, doesn't want people to deem her as beauty with no brains. People are bound to hate you. Even women. You'll hear from TV the countless men she 'broke the hearts of', them claiming she is a succubus who seduced them but is it truly what happens?
She doesn't have time for that. To be frank, she rarely has time for herself, let alone men, which leads to unfortunate short-lasting relationships with each man. And men being men, they would spread lies about her to the media for attention. She just lets them. They are jealous that she does not feel hung up on them after the breakup. They are jealous that she moves on just as quickly as they do. Truthfully, almost every man she has dated thought of her as a prize to win, to possess, and once they got her, they no longer treated her as nicely, no longer treated her as an equal. The lack of respect became evident and it was crystal clear they'd continue to think she is some dumb pretty girl who earned easy money.
Her friends? There are no real friends when you are self-made rich, especially in this industry. Her ex-colleagues hate her, wondering how long her career will last since they want her to fall from grace the way they did. Yet, they still keep tabs on her, whisper fake compliments to her ears, and be on her nice side just in case they need her for a favour one day. Whatever friends she has for the time being are her managers, public relations team, personal makeup artists, and stylists who would leave her just as fast as they appeared her my life. They would move on to work for someone who would benefit them whenever. Wherever she goes, people would talk behind her back, and more often than not it's never something nice.
She got lonely. Throwing countless parties every time she got a bit of time for herself only to have more people have things to gossip about, and more lies to tell the media. More 'friends' going behind her back and posting countless pictures of the parties That's how many people know her. A successful top model, a player, and a party girl.
She met Gavi at an after-party of the brand of a product they both endorsed for. They needed to interact for the sake of working for the same brand but she tried her best to avoid him. Engaging in small talk only, in case people start to talk about how she targeted a football athlete to lure this time. She needed none of that drama. However, she has enjoyed football all her life and watched matches whenever she could. Nobody needed to know that, she didn't need people around her to go, "Oh, so you like football? Name-" Thus she already knew how Gavi plays and how well he does so. The second time they met was after her PR team suggested it would be good for her image to go watch Barcelona FC's match live as they both became colleagues recently. She was already impressed by his skills but after she got to watch it live, she was beyond impressed.
After the match, this time, however, the small talk was avoided. She was way too enthusiastic to prevent herself from spilling compliments laced with deep football knowledge on their team's performance which received positive responses but a quite remarkable expression from the said colleague. While she was leaving, he followed behind, which he must've been told by someone to do out of politeness.
"So, what was that reaction?" She stopped and raised a brow at him.
A flush appeared on his face before he blinked rapidly to reply, "I-I wasn't expecting you to-"
"-know about football?"
He aggressively shook his head, eyes widening, "No! I wasn't expecting you to miss out on your schedules to watch our game."
"How do you know that?" She cornered him.
"You're famous. How would I not know? We were told about it." He gulped.
"Is that so?" An amused smile appeared on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Or did you search me?"
He finally looked her in the eye properly, "Do you do that to everyone?"
There you go. She lets out an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes while doing so, "Of course, you'd think that. Just like everyone."
"I don't know what you mean by that but I am having a hard time here being teased by one of the prettiest women ever so, you should have mercy on me." His face morphed into a flirtatious expression which surprised her.
Her mouth widened before she sent a smile at him, "Dear, don't you worry. It's nothing harmful. Plus, you're a kid."
"I'm eighteen and you're older than me by barely two or three years. Who are you calling kid?"
"Woah, how do I formally apologise then?"
"You can start by befriending me."
And indeed, they were friends. In fact, Gavi was the closest and most real friend she has ever had. Him being around her age helped a lot. Their sense of humour matched. He wasn't rude or disrespectful, he'd always listen. He wouldn't hesitate to voice out exactly what he thought about something and she did the same. She listened to him vent when he wasn't performing well despite trying his best. She listened to him voice out his frustration, she tried her best to understand him and be there for him whenever he rang. Gradually they began to find time for themselves to hang out and with her experience, they sneaked out successfully without getting caught. Away from the cameras, away from the stares.
And then, they became more than friends.
×××
If anyone took a peek at Gavi's mind they'd probably laugh at how ridiculous the new information would be to them. Gavi? Spain's youngest player? The youngest player in his country to score a goal in the world cup? Someone so successful at his young age is insecure? What for?
His eyes trail across the dark room with colourful flashes of light and lands on his girlfriend. The woman wanted by everyone. He sees some men hit on her only to be met with a tight-lipped smile that politely told them to back off. In order to maintain a peaceful relationship, they keep it a secret from the world, from the scrutiny of people, and from the unsolicited comments of journalists that could sabotage it and disrupt their peace. It's certainly much better this way but it also has its cons as one can see.
Gavi clenches his jaw with a pointed stare at other men approaching her and engaging in conversations. Her gown is black with a slit that starts from the top of her right thigh. She looks absolutely gorgeous. Not only in his eyes but in everyone's as well. He notices one of the men give her a once-over, making sure to check her out before he has to leave her be. One can tell his veins are pulsing as he clenches his jaw harder and begins to breathe noisily. Her eyes finally catch his across the room, his breath almost hitches at the sight of her subtle smile for him but his head is too preoccupied with other emotions at the moment.
As she begins to approach him, he stalks away towards the exit's direction and informs his manager that he isn't going to stay in this event any longer. He drives off to his house in his car without her, it's not like they can get into one car in front of people anyway. Not long after she arrives. Her eyebrows are drawn together in concern as she tilts her head to look him in the eye, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Babe, are you okay?"
It's as if her touch has magic, all of his anger dissipates in an instant. He feels vulnerable. He tries to look back into her eyes, only to fail to do so as he ducks his chin. The look of concern doesn't leave her face as she notices that. Her hands begin to rub his shoulders as she whispers, "Will you tell me what was that at the event? You seemed angry."
Now he feels like a complete jerk. He seemed to be angry at her when in fact it wasn't the case. He feels stupid for walking away from her and driving off without letting her know like an immature person. She doesn't deserve this. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before heaving it. Opening his eyes to look into hers, he mumbles a sorry quietly.
She frowns at that before grabbing his hands to make him sit on the sofa behind them and settles beside him. Her hands reach to hold his face, her fingers softly trailing from the apples of his cheek to his chin. "Don't be sorry. There must be a reason you're angry. I've never actually seen you angry so it's worrying me."
"It's just that," he rakes a hand into his hair, sighing. "the way they look at you made me so angry. I couldn't do anything on top of that. Everyone wants you but then again you told me about how you were treated in your previous relationships so that makes me angrier."
She gets up to sit on his lap and wraps an arm around his neck, the other hand holding his chin. "That makes a lot of sense. I hope you realise that your feelings are valid. I can see why you are angry or frustrated or whatever you're feeling right now. Okay?"
He nods his head in response.
She leans closer, her face merely an inch or two away from his. Tilting his chin with her hand, she looks directly at him, "Next time you're mad, just ring me and let it out. Say what you gotta say. I will do the same. Do you get it?"
He lets out a chuckle at that before grabbing her face in his hands and pulls her head towards him to engulf her lips with his into a kiss. She giggles at first but it transpires into them making out for some time before she breaks off to land a peck on his forehead.
"Will you keep playing my knight in shining armour this way for a long time?" He pretends to think while asking that.
"Toxic masculinity…" she huffs while rolling her eyes.
His eyebrows shoot up at the accusation. "I only called you that as a compliment."
"Sounded like a mockery to me." She accuses him yet again, narrowing her eyes playfully at him.
This time he rolls his eyes before a sarcastic smile takes over, "I was a minute away from crying into your shoulders. Is that toxic masculinity?"
She laughs at that before muttering, "Well, seeing you cry would've been a sight to behold though."
"What!?"
×××
They fall asleep cuddling, after watching an old action movie to laugh at the CGI. Gavi wakes up first and spends a good amount of time staring at her sleeping face, finding it adorable. There is an embarrassing lovestruck look on his face that he prefers to keep secret from her.
"Take a picture, it will last longer." She mumbles from her sleep to which he jumps away.
"You scared me." He clutches his chest with widened eyes. "Since when have you been awake!?"
"Long enough to know you're a creep." She smirks, her eyes still closed.
"Oh, is that so?"
"I don't like that tone of yours, Pablo." She says before opening one eye to check what he is up to, only to see his hands reach for his neck. "Omg, you're not doing that. You know how ticklish I am there, I'll kill you."
"Too late."
"You're so- O MY GOD- done when I catch you."
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jades-typurriter · 2 months
Text
Cherry Pops Under The Hood
This piece was my half of an art trade with @ricecreamart back in November 2023, starring her cast of OCs. She also did all the illustrations for this after the fact—if you're as much of a fan of plushie and mechanical stuff as I am (which, if you're one of my followers, there's a good chance), you should have a look at her work!!
The apartment was filled with all its usual signs of activity. The air inside was chilly—this deep into fall, the leaves had long since fallen and winter was beginning to butt in early. Ada hadn’t actually had to run her cooling fans in a long while, since it was cold enough even inside that her processors could be passively cooled, but she set them on low anyway. Her employers, Cherry and Nutmeg, appreciated any little bit of heat they could get, even the paltry amount that her system kicked out when she was just going about her business.
The two of them were seated at the kitchen table, snouts basking in the rising steam above their drinks. Ada relished in the mingling scents of Nutmeg’s tea and Cherry’s hot chocolate, and listened as the two of them bickered and bantered. Also as usual, Cherry was on the back foot in their flirty little playfight. Ada glanced over and saw all the tells that she was gonna be the first to get flustered: her eyes narrowed to help keep her face steady, her stubborn smile as though she was taking all of Nutmeg’s pokes and innuendos in good humor.
She smiled to herself and continued through the room, carrying a fresh load of laundry (and trying her best not to bury her face in the warm, soft fabric, another favorite new sensation of hers). She walked carefully—some component in her leg had failed recently, and the bundle of clothes was obscuring the ground in front of her feet. Though she tried to keep her gait straight, she could hear her own footsteps falling unevenly, heavy under her metal frame in spite of her padded exterior: thump-pmfsshh, thump-pmfsshh, thump-pmfsshh. One of Cherry’s ears flicked toward her and, grateful for the opportunity to retreat from Nutmeg’s teasing, she piped up.
“Hey, are you good, Ada? It sounds like one of your legs is dragging.”
“Yeah, uh…” she mumbled, her brows furrowing. “That’s a bit worse than I thought it was, actually… Here, lemme just set this down.” She dumped the clothes onto a nearby chair and, once again watching her step, ambled over to the table.
“‘ve you been having this problem long?” Cherry asked, resting her arm over the back of her chair to better face the housekeeper.
“You didn’t have to come in if you weren’t feeling well, you know,” Nutmeg added, setting her drink aside.
“Oh, I know, I just,” Ada hemmed, “I already have an appointment with the engineers that built this body for me, and y’know, they’re pretty busy… I figured, as long as I could watch where I was going, it wouldn’t be that much of a problem in the meantime.”
“Do you mind if I ask what’s wrong?” Cherry tilted her head. Ada had seen the expression before, on the number of occasions where she’d watched her fixing things up for other people—there was concern layered over it, but her interest was piqued.
“I think it’s a severed cable, the one that leads from my central nervous system to my knee. Or, maybe disconnected. I hope it’s not severed, uh. It could always be replaced, but it’d be much more of a hassle to have the whole cord unfastened and removed, and, y’know, it’s better to just not get damaged in the first place. Uh—”
“Do you want me to take a look at that for you?”
“Um.” Ada hesitated. Her fans, subtly, spun up. She hadn’t been examined by anybody besides the doctors and mechanics that had put her in her new body. For how many times they checked and double-checked her, from tip to tail and from paw to prow, that she’d be used to having someone poking around in her body, but… The last check-up had been months and months ago, before they were confident they could let her live on her own after the transition.
Plus, they were doctors, and it would feel… it would feel very different to have her friend get so close to her. Other than a doctor, it would actually be the first time anyone had gotten so close. But she had spent a good deal of time with Cherry since moving here, and she’d seen firsthand how good she was with her tools… Her fans spun yet faster; it occurred to her that they were becoming audible. Nutmeg’s eyes flicked between the two of them, which Cherry didn’t notice, but made Ada realize how long she’d been trying to think of what to say.
“Sure?” Okay, maybe she should have spent longer thinking about it. Nutmeg’s eyebrow jumped a full inch. “BUT, uh, c-ould we maybe? Do that in private? It feels a little… I don’t know, embarrassing. To have to strip and everything.”
“Oh, well, yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t ask you to get naked in the middle of the living room! C’mon, we can just do it in the den, you already know where my setup is.” She hopped out of her chair and, casually as anything, sauntered over to the den to wait for Ada to strip down to bare metal for her. Ada glanced back at Nutmeg; the wry smile she wore when she’d been pushing Cherry’s buttons was halfway back on her face—or maybe just half-concealed.
“You’ll be in good paws, sweetie,” she assured Ada, doing absolutely nothing to settle her nerves. Her wires. Whatever. “Do you need me to help you walk over there?”
“N-no, that’ll be—I’ll be fine, I just have to be careful. But thank you! Thank you, um,” she stuttered, eventually opting to just follow Cherry after realizing she wasn’t going to get any less awkward under the tanuki’s gaze. When she walked into the den, Cherry glanced over her shoulder.
“Just go ahead and get comfortable up here,” she said, patting a spot on the table. As she went back to rooting through toolboxes, she continued. “You said it was your knee, right? So you shouldn’t actually have to strip down. I promise I’m not gonna, like, look up your skirt.”
“Well, no, but—It’s not the c-clothes I’m worried about—well, I guess I’m worried about the clothes, too, um. Okay, just, you’ll see.” She turned away from Cherry—not that she was even looking. Gosh, why did this worry her so much?—and bent down to reach under her skirt. She fumbled for a moment before her paw found a zipper; she pulled gently, working it around the circumference of her hip joint, and began to roll down the now-freed fabric casing that sat over her metal frame. When it was about halfway down her calf, leaving her thigh and knee bare, she padded over next to Cherry and sat down on the table.
“Alright, are you—oh,” Cherry interrupted herself, finally looking over from her tools and seeing the exposed mechanisms. “Ohhh, I see, okay. My bad,” she apologized, rubbing the back of her neck. “When you said you had to strip, I thought you meant… your clothes. I forgot the fuzzy bits are separate, haha.”
“Oh, t-thats, totally fine,” Ada managed, unable to look Cherry in the eyes.
“I think I just, consider it… like, it’s your face, right? It’s like if you were trying to think of my skin as a separate entity from the rest of me. When I think of ‘Ada’, that’s just, what you look like.” Ada finally turned her head, just about at eye level with Cherry from her seated position. Their eyes lingered on each other for a moment; Cherry’s expression was still somewhat sheepish after the little misunderstanding, and something flickered behind Ada’s eyes that approached doubtfulness. Disbelief. Then a little smile broke on her face, and there was something very soft in them instead, softer even than her plush exterior. 
“That… means a lot to hear, actually,” she half-whispered, her eyes drifting downward. “Sometimes I still have to remind myself of it, but you’re right. This is me. It’s just, it’s almost a pleasant surprise every time I re-realize it, y’know? Like it’s too good to be true.”
“Oh, god, do I understand that,” Cherry chuckled, shoulders relaxing in the mercifully-broken tension. But hey,” she said, drawing their eyes back together. “you kinda get used to it after a while. Not in a way where it stops being fun, though!. Like, you still wake up some days, and it’s like it’s Christmas, but it doesn’t shock you like you’d lost track of the date, right? You still get to be you—it’s still awesome every time you remember ‘dude, this is your life now’—but you don’t forget that you’re you in the meantime. Y’know?”
“I can imagine. I get closer every day, I think. Physical… snags, like this one, remind me a lot of how things were before, but… I guess I have you for that now, right?”
“Right!” Cherry slapped a fist down into her open palm. “We’re gonna get you good as new in no time. You ready?”
“I-I think I am! Uh—” she stammered, pressing down her skirt between her legs. “Okay, now I’m ready!” Cherry giggled, then looked at her lap and back up at her.
“...Do your clothes even come off?”
“Sure! If. You take the rest of me off, too.” They stared at each other for another half a breath and cracked up again. That’s bedside fuckin’ manner, babey!! Cherry was doing a kickass job at this robot doctor thing already. She kneeled down, still giggling, to get a closer look at the laggy limb.
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“Woooahh,” she mused, face-to-face with Ada’s bare knee. Her eyes were wide and sparkling like the robot had shone a little red laser dot on the floor in front of her. “Oh my god, Ada. I know we were just talking about how cool it is to be you, like, with a capital B and Y, but you really are an amazing piece of work!” She gushed for a minute straight about the suspension, a thick spring coiled around Ada’s stand-in for a tibia and fibula, which Cherry could see extending down the remainder of her leg underneath the metal sheath and the remaining fabric cover; that was to say nothing of the hydraulic struts that extended behind and above her knee, powering her locomotion.
“I kind of don’t want to touch anything there… at least, not if we can help it. I’m not gonna say I couldn’t do it—I’m pretty good, y’know,” she added with a flicked ear and a raised eyebrow. “Buuut, it’d definitely be more complicated to fix than a connection issue would, so let’s look around for that first, right?”
“Sure, sure. It should be higher up in my thigh. Thhhhhhat panel,” she recalled after some deliberation, pointing to a plate of metal on the inside of her leg, “should come off.” Cherry produced a screwdriver from her pool of tools and dutifully levered the compartment open, finding… well, it was much cleaner than she’d expected.
“Huh. I guess I gotta give ‘em points for wire management? I can see a couple other big cables running through here, but they’re all on the other side. This one seems to be the only one that runs to the upper leg. Kinda seems like putting all your eggs in one basket, though… If something happens with this wire, poof! There goes your whole thigh.”
“Just like now,” Ada sighed.
“Why would they do it like that?”
“It’s supposed to be like the femoral artery,” she huffed. “If you ask me, the human body is the last thing to be taking design inspiration from, but the engineers liked how tidy it was, and the doctors thought I was complicated enough as it was. They agreed that mirroring the bigger anatomical landmarks would make it so a non-specialist doctor could at least try to treat me.”
“Who the hell studies medicine and engineering?” Cherry muttered, peering further down into Ada’s chassis. “I can see it all the way to the end, though. Like, with a plug and everything still attached. It must’ve just come loose, so all I gotta do is—”
“NyaaAAAA—” Ada squealed. Her paws flew to her mouth; her fans revved full-force. Cherry’s claw had barely grazed the cable, but it felt like she had just rubbed her paw all the way along the inside of her thigh.
“Ah!! Did that hurt? Are you okay?” She looked up at Ada and saw the flustered expression half-hidden behind her paws. She felt a rush of air from the opening to the inside of Ada’s furry casing and realized that she was burning up. “...Oh.”
“I-I’m. Yeah, f-fine,” the mortified android managed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It was just, um. Sensitive. Sorry.”
“Oh, no, it’s no problem!! I should’ve looked a little bit more before leaping, I guess. I’m just,” she finished, bowing her own head again to hide the blush spreading across her own cheeks, “glad you’re alright. Lemme try it with some pliers instead—I’ll be more gentle this time.” She fished out a needle-nosed pair and, gripping the bundle of wire just beneath the plug, slowly finagled it into the socket.
Cherry instructed Ada to flex her knee; she could, just fine. She asked her to extend it, and she did, no problem! She rolled her ankle around next, even though it wasn’t originally the problem, just to make sure Cherry hadn’t accidentally knocked anything else loose while she was down there. She slowly snapped the panel back into place—this time, Ada had braced herself, and though she couldn’t look Cherry in the eye while she was working down there, she barely made a peep this time. They finally emerged from the den, Cherry holding the door open so Ada could make sure she could get around without difficulty again, and were met with Nutmeg eyeing the two of them over her mug.
“Did something go wrong?” She asked, voice full of exaggerated concern—after all, Ada was walking just fine.
“In my workshop?" Cherry gloated. "C'mon. It was just a loose cable. You’ll make sure not to flex your leg too far in the future, right, Ada?”
“Right!”
“Oh, good!” Nutmeg continued. “So, if you didn’t make a mistake in there, I assume you meant to make her squeak like that?” she asked, taking a slow sip of her tea and staring Cherry dead in the eye.
“Y’know,” she forced out, putting her best poker face back on. “I think I’m gonna take Ada to the park, just to put her through her paces. Doesn’t that sound nice, Ada?”
“Huh? I wasn’t done cleani—”
“Awesome! We’ll be back in a bit, Meg,” she growled, nearly shoving the girl out the door in front of her.
It wasn’t long before Cherry realized that she’d escaped from Nutmeg’s coolheaded quips without thinking to take a sweater—she’d jumped out of the fridge and into the freezer, with the way the weather had been recently. Ada offered to turn her fans up, and Cherry stayed nice and close to her (which was very, very easy, with how soft her exterior was). While the two of them walked laps to keep their servos warm and their blood circulating, they talked about all kinds of things. A simple “you mentioned ‘how things were before’” turned into swapping backstories: how Cherry got into tinkering with machines, how Ada got into a machine.
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Of course, they had plenty of common ground, from the realization that things could be different, and the freedom that came with it, to the malaise that it had freed them from. Cherry managed to keep things light; like she’d said earlier, things only went uphill from the start of journies like theirs, and she was rarely without a crack that would break the gloom of a bad memory. It got dark faster than they expected, but it had more to do with how much fun they were having together than the shortening days. When it got too cold for Cherry to stand staying out any longer, the two of them walked back to the front door of her apartment building.
“Y’know,” she said when they arrived, “you didn’t have to walk me all the way home. It’s almost like the end of a date, or something.”
“What, with how much you and Nutmeg flirt while I’m around? It couldn’t be!” She froze; and Cherry felt the air around her begin to thaw. “Wait, could it be? Cherry, was this supposed to be a date??”
“I was just kidding, bestie, you don’t have to go critical on me. Usually, you get up under a girl’s skirt at the end of a date, right?”
“C-c’mon!” she cried, screwing her eyes shut again. “It wasn’t like that!!”
“I know, I know!” Cherry laughed. “Hey, c’mon. I promise it’s not like it’s gonna be weird or anything. Doctor-patient confidentiality, or whatever, right? But hey,” she said more softly, reaching for Ada’s paw. She paused before touching her, waiting for her to nod in confirmation before just going and grabbing things, this time. “We could make it a date, next time! If you want, anyway.”
“U-um. Yeah. Yeah!” There was a growing, fully snow-free circle spreading from Ada’s feet, at this point. “T-that would be, it’d be awesome! I would love that!!”
“Great! You know the door’s always open for you, bestie. See you soon?”
“I’m already scheduled to come over again in a few days!!”
“Sooner? I’m on my way to face the music. I was definitely losing to Nutmeg earlier. If you bail me out before she literally pushes me up against the wall, we can call it even for helping you out today.” Ada’s brow furrowed, a little concerned.
“She’s not… literally pushing you around, right?”
“Oh, no! I’m constantly asking for it. Literally, most of the time. I wouldn’t even complain if she did it tonight, but like… it’s the principle. I gotta save face after getting dressed-down in front of a guess like that, y’know?”
“Well, that makes two of us getting exposed in front of our friends, right? At least you aren’t alone.”
“Ha! Sorry again about that. But hey, maybe we can do that on purpose next time too, right?” She could see Ada freezing up again, and blew her a kiss goodbye to save her the trouble of finding her words again, ducking back inside; she could hear the air whooshing around outside all the way until she got back to the elevator.
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plus a little bit of an epilogue for you =^w^=
I hope you enjoyed!! The transgender plushie robot catgirl is very near and dear to my heart. I know, I know, total shock. If you're interested in more of my writing you can have a look here and here. And please check Robin out too!! She's crazy talented and is the one who came up with Ada in the first place so
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fireflysummers · 9 months
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Final Thoughts on GO S2
I'm probably gonna pull back on discussing S2, at least publicly, after this. I did actually like a lot of the season, but it's triggering some of my religious trauma and also the fandom is already stressing me out. So here, let's have some final thoughts.
First and foremost: I am not a Gaiman simp. I've read a decent amount of his work: comics, short stories, essays, and novels. Aside from Good Omens, I've liked Coraline and The Graveyard Book the best by far, whereas American Gods just. Did Not Connect with me, even though it's should have, given the stuff I tend to enjoy.
However. Regardless of whether I like a given work (or even like how he adapted it, a la parts of The Sandman TV series), he is a veteran writer who has proven that he does, actually, know how to write a story with consistent characters.
Beyond that, I do actually believe that he's trying to do right by Pratchett, and loves and respects the story and characters they created together. He's generally shown up as an ally to a variety of social causes, and directly and respectfully responds to fans on Tumblr. While no saint, I feel that there is cause to give the benefit of the doubt that things will resolve satisfyingly in S3, and that there is Intention about some of the things in S2.
This, of course, does not absolve it of being "bad," but even here I think we need to articulate better the different types of "bad" that people are reacting to. There seems to roughly be three camps here: 1) People who thought it was "bad" because of how it ended, with the breakup and a lot of unresolved plot threads; 2) People who thought it was "bad" because it struggled on a technical level with its set, lighting, directorial choices, editing, etc; 3) People who thought it was "bad" because they felt the characterization was significantly off and that the internal logic of the series had been violated.
With regards to Point One, the only solution is to Wait and See. Judgement should be reserved until the story is properly finished--easier said than done, especially considering the current media landscape, and the number of series or franchises that fail to live up to their promises.
Point Two isn't something I understand well enough to contribute meaningfully, except that I suspect the pandemic affected this aspect the most and am willing to give it a bit more mercy. That aside, I for the most part I don't find it bad so much as not as good as S1. Except for the parts with epilepsy warnings, surely there could've been a better way to do that.
Point Three... that's the stumbling block for me, and I find it interesting that most of the folks who struggle with this point in particular are long time fans of the book.
I trust that instinct.
There are two different directions to go from here. The first is the assumption that these problems are a result of ego, carelessness, or lack of skill from the showrunners/writers/director. It's cynical but not unjustified. The second is the belief that the breaks in lore or characterization were intentional, building towards a much grander conspiracy. Of course, even in this case I don't think it forgives the lack of signposting that would indicate that this is a choice rather than an accident. It just makes it feel clumsy and poorly constructed, a major risk on a show that hasn't had its third season confirmed.*
However, regardless, it still feels salvageable. I've enjoyed reading a lot of meta on all this, and I've pulled some things from others (particularly That Theory by @ariaste), but I don't really want to put forth a single, defined theory myself. Instead, here's some questions I've got, why those questions are important (to me, at least). Actual theorizing comes after, and anybody who snidely mentions Sherlock in the comments or tags is going to get auto-blocked. Like seriously, I'm aware that some stuff is a stretch, but it's fun??? To theorize????? And I'm here for me and my peace of mind rather than trying to argue a point.
*I have some suspicions here, particularly with Gaiman stating that the decision from Amazon would come much faster than The Sandman's second season (which was four months). I don't know enough though to say if that's actually significant.
Questions
Who the fuck is telling this story?
This is the most important piece, in my opinion. There's this assumption when reading books (or research papers, newspapers, etc...) that the narrator who is writing the words is a non-presence, Neutral and objective. That's not the case, and an important part of literature critique is figuring out who the narrator is, and what their goals are. Oftentimes, the narrator and the author are the same person, but with Pratchett's work, particularly on Good Omens and Discworld, the Narrator was its own unique character.
This is why people struggle adapting Discworld to live action--that medium requires a Reason for having a Narrator, and especially in the age of method acting that's often considered immersion-breaking. Good Omens worked so well because they not only kept the Narrator, but they made Her God.
This added some really interesting new dimensions, such as the scene where Crowley speaks to God about his fall and the destruction of humanity. He doesn't receive an answer, but we're watching from God's perspective, so we as the audience know that She's listening.
Another advantage of making God the Narrator is that it justifies all the goofy little asides we get into the lives of minor characters (i.e. Leslie the Mailman), without losing focus. It helps the world feel like it’s full of people, rather than characters and plot contrivances, and the theme that individual people and their choices are important. The Narrator is such a central character of Good Omens that without it, the story struggles to stay focused.
It also highlights a key difference in the writing styles of the two authors. Pratchett’s work tends to introduce four or five totally unique plot threads that feel completely disjointed until the last act (if not even later), when it turns into a Chekhov’s Firing Squad. Plot twists around secret identities and backstabbing and schemes are relatively rare, as the omniscient Narrator doesn’t lie about the intentions of people or their actions.
Gaiman’s writing is typically not like that, to my knowledge. He buries characters in misdirection and hints, and you never know the true identity or motives until all the chips are down. It’s a perfectly valid way to approach storytelling, but it makes it jarring to see it in S2. The lack of a Narrator is a huge reason why S2 doesn’t feel like Good Omens to some folks.
My gut feeling is that the decision to shift from the original Narrator was highly intentional. It helps to obscure the thoughts and intentions of people, and it also muddles the insights that we’re supposed to take away. (I would have loved hearing God monologue about what’s going on in Jim’s head. I think it’d do a lot to make him seem less.... obnoxiously stupid.)
More than that, it brings up a reasonable potential plot point of: Where did God go? Why isn’t She present in the story? Even in her early appearance in the Job flashback, she doesn’t sound like the narrator for last season. After the first part of her speech (which Gabriel later quotes), her tone turns casual and condescending, which might line up with her being a bit of an asshole, it doesn’t line up with the whole “dealer of a mysterious card game who is always smiling”).
Also, I don’t think it’s safe to assume that nobody is telling the story either. Just because they’re not making their presence known doesn’t mean they aren’t there, and in a story like Good Omens, that’s concerning.
Wait, where's Satan?
Another person I saw while scrolling the tags pointed out that Satan is nowhere to be seen this season. He's really only mentioned in reference to a bet God made in Job, but then Crowley is the one on the ground causing mischief. There's no Hail Satan among demons (like Hastur and Ligur did at the start of S1).
That's might be because the writers didn't want us to think it was important (a la Hastur), but that feels off. Given that Satan speaks directly through the radio to Crowley in S1, complimenting him on his work, it's safe to say that he was at least aware of and involved in the goings-on in Hell. The fact that he wasn't even an worry for Beelzebub in abandoning their post? Feels weird.
(Also if you know where that post is, I'll happy credit + link)
What is Maggie?
Look, I love cute lesbians in love as much as the next queer, but I don't like Maggie. I don’t think she’s a person. Contextually, she’s a plot device, but I agree with That Essay that she might be an actual Plot Device.
Her characterization is simple and relatively shallow—a bit of an airhead, ray of sunshine that’s supposed to remind you of Aziraphale. When she describes her past to Nina, it’s almost robotic (also, her story implies it was Mr. Fell who first rented to her ancestor, not Mr. Fell’s great-grandfather like Nina implied). Her emotions are over-dramatic and seem to be turned on and off at random (scenes with her crying to Aziraphale about her woes had my “manipulator” senses going off for some reason).
When asked about a song, she not only IDs the song, its singer, and its year, but how and on what it was distributed. (Honestly thought this would’ve been something interesting, because she’s been pretty ditzy so far, it’d be interesting if she had like... an insane memory for music history.) And then she’s the one that sets Aziraphale on his little investigation by giving him the transformed records, while also planting the seed about her love troubles with Nina. Later, her advice to Crowley is... not awful, but feels insincere and a bit too forward, given her own self-proclaimed lack of relationship experience.
I don’t know what she is (a demon, hastur with amnesia in disguise, a literal plot device inserted by the current storyteller, etc...), but there’s something not right with her.
(Also the joke of “who listens to records anymore, it’s so old fashioned” just doesn’t land, lots of people buy records, and I’m saying this as somebody who has worked at a record store before.)
What's going on with Aziraphale?
There’s something Off about Aziraphale, and it’s not his choices at the end of the season. That makes total sense if you read him as somebody with severe religious trauma getting dragged back into the abusive system because other people need him and he’s been promised the ability to change things.
But I do think something is happening to his memory. Nearly all the flashbacks are from Aziraphale’s point of view and retelling, which means that they’re less reliable than God’s version of events in the previous season. Many of them don’t make logistical sense (post-church scene in 1941), depict Crowley as meaner or more sinister than we know he is, or frame events... weirdly. The scene with him trying food for the first time feels Really Bad, especially when the series has previously established that he’s a) prim and proper and b) his interest in food is one of the beautiful things that connect him to humanity, not some kind of gluttonous sin. Also he turns down alcohol.
Their meet-cute at the  start of the universe also doesn’t line up with their reactions to each other in Eden, or the fact that knowing each other Before has never come up or been hinted at anywhere ever. I don’t know what’s causing this to happen, only that Aziraphale repeatedly looks pensive when coming out of flashbacks, and Crowley is never there afterwards to corroborate said memories.
His actions also seem pretty inconsistent with what we know of him—i.e. I refuse to believe he would ever mistreat his books, even if they’re just old encyclopedias. Also, he feels a bit too...forceful in trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love? I mean, he didn’t exert that much direct influence on even Warlock, when he was actively hoping that the boy would turn out angelic rather than neutral.
I don’t think this removes his agency in that last decision, so much as explains how he was in such a vulnerable place at all. He still needs to apologize and fix things, because he messed up, and even if he hadn’t he still seriously hurt Crowley.
What's going on with Crowley?
There’s something Off about Crowley. The most obvious thing, of course, is his memories. At multiple points in the present day, characters state that they remember him or have met him before, only to be met with confusion. This is especially concerning given that he has a nigh photographic memory for faces (something mentioned in the book when he immediately IDs Mary Loquacious, 11 years after a 30 second conversation).
Overall, he seems to be better known by other supernatural entities this season, in ways that often tie him back to his angelic identity (i.e. saying they fought together in the war, Aziraphale stating he knew the angel he used to be, etc...). This doesn’t feel right, because S1 we see that Hell is largely apathetic towards his schemes, and definitely does not defer to him at any point in any capacity.
Then there’s the issue of his power level. It’s always been speculated that Crowley was a powerful angel prior to falling, when he mentions in S1 his involvement with star making, his seemingly unique ability to freeze time, and creating a pocket universe for Adam before the confrontation with Satan. He also has a tendency of breathing life into inanimate objects, like his plants or car. He also has the regular demonic skillset: miracles that can adjust physical appearance; the ability to change inanimate objects (like paintball guns into real guns); the ability to manifest clothing and similar items; and summon hellfire to his fingertips. This, plus the way he monologues to God with a degree of familiarity rather than reverence seems to indicate that he was Somebody Powerful and Important Before.
But in S2, his skills are significantly expanded upon. The miracle he and Aziraphale summon sets off alarms in heaven and hell, and it’s powerful enough to mask Gabriel from the Archangels. He summons a miniature sun to rain fire on Job, which is way bigger and flashier than anything we’ve seen him summon in S1. (If he needs fire, he alters the course of a dropping bomb, without creating one himself.)
Yet he’s able to cloak his presence so well he goes wholly unnoticed in heaven, or in front of heavenly agents on earth (i.e. the Job flashback). Muriel can’t clock him as a demon, or even as another supernatural being, despite their auras usually being pretty significant, such Aziraphale immediately sensing the archangels when they arrive.  He’s able to interfere with files that Muriel claimed required clearance (although I feel like that might just be a snark about Obeying Without Thinking? I would really need a Narrator to know.)
I might be misremembering, but I don’t think we’ve seen angels or demons transmogrify living beings before either. In the book, Crowley brings Aziraphale’s dove back to life after the failed magic show, and occasionally sinks ducks, but he doesn’t alter them? Not even Adam demonstrates that skill in S1. But he has no trouble turning Job’s children into lizards, however temporarily. Boy that would’ve been convenient during the flood. Or when the guard stopped then from getting to the air strip.
I might be misremembering, but I don’t think we’ve seen angels or demons transmogrify living beings before either. In the book, Crowley brings Aziraphale’s dove back to life after the failed magic show, and occasionally sinks ducks, but he doesn’t alter them? Not even Adam demonstrates that skill in S1. But he has no trouble turning Job’s children into lizards, however temporarily. Boy that would’ve been convenient during the flood. Or when the guard stopped then from getting to the air strip.
I don’t have any real issues with his characterization in the present day parts of S2, but there’s something weird happening with Crowley.
Where's all the people?
I really like a lot of the new characters, but how were there only like, 2.5 new humans named in the present day? Flashbacks don’t count bc the humans are all dead and can’t affect the story.
As much as I like Nina, she and Maggie don’t drive the story beyond being an occasional and awkwardly inserted plot contrivance? Both are actively robbed of their agency at several points, forced into situations that they could not have avoided or escaped. I’m not really sure what growth they’re expected to experience other than deciding not to date each other after everything. I literally can’t tell you anything about Nina other than that she remembers her regular’s orders, runs a coffee shop, and has a textbook abusive partner we never see. The only meaningful interactions they have are between those two, or in conversation with Aziraphale and Crowley.
Compare that to S1, where Anathema gets hit by Aziraphale and Crowley, but her primary relationships are with Newt, Adam, and Agnes Nutter (I think that counts as a relationship). We know that she’s got a wealthy family back in Puerto Rico, and that she was literally raised to save the world, and that she isn’t happy under all that pressure. Newt on the other hand is connected to not just Anathema, but Shadwell and Madame Tracy. He never even directly interacts with Aziraphale and Crowley. We know about his hobbies, his struggle to hold down a job, and his almost supernatural ability to destroy any electronics he touches. I don’t necessarily like how their relationship came together, but they were both very, very well fleshed out characters with unique backstories and goals. They weren’t just... waiting around to give Aziraphale and Crowley a new questline.
And while there’s no requirement to include a large cast of human characters that are exerting influence over the story, the lack of it is another aspect that makes this season feel not like Good Omens.
Also, it's just. Really weird to me that the events of S1 aren't really referenced at all? Like, Adam isn't mentioned, nor is Warlock. I don't expect them to keep track of the humans they met on the airfield for 20 minutes, but none of it is ever specifically referenced as far as I can tell, beyond Crowley threatening Gabriel. Like, I get that it's been a few years, but the pair caused a big enough disturbance that you'd expect some kind of ripples in their supernatural communities.
Promised by the Narrative (Obvious Chekhov's guns that I will be legitimately upset over if they do not go off)
A sincere apology from Aziraphale to Crowley that doesn't come with the expectation that Crowley will come back to him, but because he deserves an apology, even if the choices Aziraphale made were done with good intentions. Aziraphale does not expect forgiveness, and is shocked when Crowley grants it without hesitation.
A clear declaration of love from Aziraphale, which can't be rationalized away by either of them.
An "I'm Sorry" dance between Aziraphale and Crowley, but with greater sincerity and gravity. The most important piece is that they end up dancing together, which signifies a mutual apology and dedication to come together.
Since kissing is on the table, I expect an actual joyful, mutual kiss between these two assholes.
A shared cottage in South Downs.
Predictions/Theories (just some fun thoughts I've had)
When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he didn't make himself not the antichrist, but accidentally crowned his human dad the King of Hell. Nobody knows this, because Adam doesn't have a good measure for "normal" supernatural situations, and Mr. Young because he's so "normal" that he explains away all the magical bullshit that's started going down.
When Adam declared that Satan was not his father, he erased Satan altogether. However, this left a vacuum in both power and reality. The defection of both Gabriel and Beelzebub only widens that crack. In an attempt to Fix things, reality is warping the story. Crowley has become leagues more powerful between S1 and S2, as the narrative is trying to force him into the role of his previous boss. Aziraphale is unknowingly being pulled into a similar version on the Other Side, perhaps to replace Gabriel or perhaps to replace God herself, who has been fairly absent in all this. The alterations to their memories or past have come about to keep the narrative running smoothly.
When the Metatron asks Nina whether anybody has ever asked for death, he was actually referring to Death, the sole remaining rider of the apocalypse.
If Maggie is indeed a Plot Device, it would be a fascinating exploration of Free Will to see her become aware of this (cue existential crisis), and then fall in love with Nina on her own terms, rather than because she was written that way.
Hastur will be back. Somehow.
The reason why S2 focuses so much on the supernatural characters is because S3 will be about how the events in S1 have changed the political landscape of heaven and hell. Angels are questioning their roles, demons are yearning for something more. It's scaring upper administration, and then the two most reliable folks in employment run away to alpha centauri. Recruiting Aziraphale and getting him back in line prevents him from becoming a martyr, control the range of his influence. The series reasserts its theme of choice and agency by highlighting that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't that special, they've just had the chance to live and grow, and that the others have free will too, if they want it.
The reason why they wanted to separate Aziraphale and Crowley, is not to get Aziraphale on his own, but to get Crowley on his own. He literally stopped time and made a pocket universe in front of Satan last season. He's powerful and dangerous and somebody wants to see that reigned in.
Wishlist (stuff I desperately want to see)
Crowley getting an audience with God and an opportunity to ask his questions, only to refuse to do so because he's found his own Answers and he no longer needs hers
Aziraphale and Crowley growing more into their book incarnations. Aziraphale becomes confident in his sense of morality, which he developed the hard way through millennia on earth besides humanity. He slowly learns what it means to be loved, unconditionally, but also is better at asserting and maintaining his boundaries. Crowley, still anxious and unwinding, works through his fear of abandonment, providing him opportunities to be kind and gentle and nurturing--all traits that he's aggressively hid since being a demon.
Hand holding. I know that Gaiman was referring to Ineffable Bureaucracy, but I still feel like we'd benefit from meaningful hand holding, especially since that got cut from the adaptation of the book.
Shifted focus away from the supernatural shenanigans, and back onto the humans that actually drive the story.
Cameos from S1 characters (if not a more substantial appearance).
The Four Other Riders of the Apocalypse.
Cursed Thoughts (why I shouldn't be allowed a social platform)
Ineffable Bureaucracy turns up in season 3 because Beelzebub got Gabriel pregnant somehow.
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