you can call me juno, mach, or acid. pronouns are she/he/it
this blog is for me to post fluff headcanons (probably mostly related to physical affection) about fictional characters i like
i accept requests! as in, if you've got a character you wanna know my headcanons on, send 'em in! if i don't know who they are, i'll let ya know lol
i am aroallo! nothing i post is meant to be taken as romantic attraction towards characters, purely platonic and sensual. though sexual attraction can sometimes be implied, and these posts will be tagged "#juno-fiction-fucker". very funny, i know.
fandoms i'll probably post about/am likely to accept requests about:
mizi holding u. mizi cuddling with u. falling asleep on a mattress next to mizi and she pulls you closer and hums softly and lets you run your fingers through her hair until you both fall asleep.
siiigghhhhh. do you think back in the day rio used to toy around with agatha's body as a form of affection. pain is for the living, after all, and she wants to remind agatha that she's still alive. she's not playing up being evil or anything like that, this isn't roleplay, this is how she shows love, and she's acting accordingly. smiling sweetly and genuinely as she cuts open agatha's skin. pressing her face to the wound as it heals on its own
thinking about the moment janus finally breaks. he's convinced himself that he doesn't need to be liked by the others, that he's alright being hated, as long as he's able to do his job. but it has to weigh on him. it has to erode at him slowly, through the years, resentment building. he keeps a tally of the times he's protected thomas on his wall, to remind himself of why he keeps going despite never once being thanked. his form of protection is seen as immoral, his defenses misinterpreted as attacks on thomas' moral code. every other side casts him in the role of the villain, as some outside force of evil, instead of an integral part of thomas' mind.
that has to weigh on him.
i imagine he was born sometime after the twins, around the same time as patton, since they are two sides of a coin. selfishness and selflessness. self-preservation and morality. the side that protects thomas first and foremost and the side that protects thomas' integrity and morals.
they clashed from the start, but with every lie thomas told to protect himself, the rift grew larger and larger, patton's guilt grew stronger and stronger, until eventually he began to reject janus as a part of thomas at all. and the others followed suit.
janus was the first dark side, the first side of thomas that the others couldn't accept. which meant that he was cast out alone, young, probably no older than 12, into an empty space. he started keeping a tally. a tally, just for himself. a torn off paper from a notebook, a single pencil. to keep track of every time he saved thomas. protected thomas. kept thomas safe. slowly, the wall filled out. drawings of thomas. lists of things thomas likes. lists of things thomas could do to calm down when stressed.
but thomas didn't know him. the others were keeping him locked up there, in his own room of darkness, he grew bitter and resentful.
everything that happened happens, and everyone expects him to just move on from the years of rejection and ungratefulness.
and one day, he just breaks.
one last comment from a well-meaning patton, one last "he's trying to manipulate you" at thomas, and suddenly janus is screaming and sobbing, "why won't you listen to me? why does no one ever listen to me? i'm a part of him too, i'm not working against you, i'm not your enemy, i love him, i've always loved him. i just want to help him. i want to protect him. that's all. that's all i've ever wanted."
and there's a moment of silence, of confusion. janus disappears into his room.
they find him in the corner, by the pages. there must be hundreds of them by now. lists of likes, dislikes, triggers, comforts. a tally reaching over the original page, now filling the wall next to it instead. self-care guides personalized for thomas. ineffective defense mechanisms crossed out, effective ones circled. an entire and extensive guide to taking care of thomas sanders, built through the years with incredible care and affection, a monument to janus' love for thomas.
and that's when the others realize, all at once, that thomas probably would not be alive right now if it weren't for janus.
one after the other, they reach out to touch him. to hold him. for the first time taking him into their arms as one of their own. their deceit. their self-preservation. he's exhausted to the point of not reciprocating the touch in any way, but his eyes are closed and his muscles relax, he lets his body be held and loved as he weeps out the rest of his resentment into their arms. finally accepted.
but the most important touch is thomas' own. he reaches out, after a moment's hesitation, to hold janus' face in his hands. he stares into his eyes, finally understanding this part of himself for what it is. he pulls him into a gentle kiss, not romantic, just comfort. again, and again, and again, as he whispers what janus has wanted to hear all this time "thank you, thank you, thank you. i love you. you're mine. i love you. please stay. please be a part of me forever."
heavily burdened by silly vquiet thoughts rn. i love their dynamic so much. keep goofing around forever and ever, girls. i think it's because every other dynamic with venom is always underlined by that weight of everyone perceiving them as big boss, entering every interaction with them with those expectations and standards and history, but with quiet it's. hmmm. it's like she's the only one who sees them as an actual person or their own right, rather than just as a body double of big boss, or another clone of him. you can see it in v too, it almost feels like they relax around her for just a second, finally able to let go of the crushing, poisonous weight that they carry with them everywhere else.
thinking about alice stepping between agatha and the salem seven, from instinct alone, baring her teeth and growling, the guard dog of the coven. then the situation passes, nobody else thinks much of it, but agatha's confused. no one's ever protected her before. she was raised to believe her natural position was to be pursued, persecuted, and attacked. loathed by all of witchkind from birth.
alice doesn't bother explaining herself, mostly because she doesn't understand why she did it either. it's not that she likes agatha as a person, her instincts as a protection witch acted on her behalf. but that still means she sees agatha as a part of her coven now, not just for the sake of the trip, but on a deeper level. she's compelled to protect her now, just as much as she is the others.
thinking about agatha trying so hard not to show just how emotional she's getting over the fact that this is what it feels like to be protected, for the first time in her entire life.
literally need to just. sit next to lena kelley in complete silence for a while and reach out to touch her hand. and at first she's so tense and uptight and almost flinches away from my touch, but i don't mind. i move slowly and gently, i let her see every movement clearly and wait for her to be fully comfortable with a specific position before moving. and after an hour or so, she's in my lap, resting her head on my shoulder, sound asleep.
i'm not a smoker but i do sometimes smoke when i'm tipsy so now i'm just imagining getting lightly hammered and smoking with solid snake. i just know a 3 am smoke sesh on a front porch with him would go crazy. he'd be shoving marlboros up his nostrils for a funny photo like ten seconds after explaining the basics of dismantling a gun to me. insane energy. need this to happen to me
