#(kind of? i mean i liked where they took her but if you aren't here for dark dany i guess you're probably not happy)

[dawei-s]

Close to my grandma's age when she had my dad literally wtf

[ddejavvu]

can i request spencer reid w bau!reader and their married but reader forgets to put her wedding ring back on and derek’s asking spencer about what happened/if theyre having marital problems and spencer starts panciking but she just forgot about it in her pocket😭

Derek's brow is knitted in real, authentic concern when he corners Spencer in the BAU's kitchenette, and it turns Spencer's stomach. Usually, Derek has a teasing glimmer in his eyes, but it's scarily absent today, and he braces a large hand on Spencer's lanky bicep.

"Pretty boy," Derek starts, and his tone is soft, soothing, kind, "Anything you wanna talk about? I'm here if you need me, y'know."

Spencer tries feigning calm, which is terribly hard to do as someone who's fraught with nerves constantly, but he keeps an even tone when he speaks.

"I don't think so. Should I want to talk about something?"

Derek smiles sympathetically, almost a grimace, and Spencer feels a flash of fear run through him. Has Derek heard something about his mom?

"I don't think anyone else has noticed yet," Derek assures Spencer, "But I saw Y/N's not wearing her ring."

It's not what he'd been expecting, dreading, but it's not pleasant either. Spencer's eyes dart hurriedly to your hunched form, shoulders bent and crowding your desk as you devote yourself entirely to your paperwork. Sure enough, your wedding ring is absent from your finger, leaving an uncomfortably blank space on your skin, and Spencer's brows knit together.

"I didn't know," Spencer admits, keeping his voice to a low murmur, "I- But- we aren't having any problems. I don't think."

Derek shoots that awful pitying grimace his way again, and Spencer shakes his head, his stringy hair flying.

"No, no- we're not- we're not having problems," He asserts, but he's not sure if he's trying to convince himself or Derek more, "I mean, we bickered about coffee this morning, but not- not marriage problems bad. She just forgot it."

Spencer knows what expression will be on Derek's face if he looks, so he doesn't. He busies himself with stirring the rest of the sugar into his coffee, excusing himself before Derek can press the issue even further.

On his way out of the kitchenette he snags a donut from an open box on the counter, slipping a napkin beneath it and trying not to rush to your desk. He doesn't want to seem obvious, but he's a flaming bundle of nerves.

"Angel," He gets right to the point, placing the donut beside your hand on the desk and leaning over the back of your chair. He nestles his cheek to yours, pressing his lips against the curve of your jaw and blocking your conversation from view of the bullpen with the way he shrouds you from behind.

"Spence," You begin, alarmed at the sudden ambush of sugar, both literally and figuratively, "What-?"

"Are you mad at me?" He asks, sounding rather like a child worrying to their parents. You're only more confused after his question, and you tentatively shake your head.

"No? Should I be?"

"I don't think so," Spencer hums, "But you're not wearing your ring."

You blink, glancing at your bare ring finger.

"Oh!" You gush, your shoulders pressing back against his own as you maneuver your hand into your pocket. It's difficult sitting down, but you retrieve the ring and jam it back onto your finger, "I took it off earlier because I was taking the trash out. I didn't want it to get all goopy, and I guess I just forgot it was in there." You let your explanation hang in the air for a moment, but your eyes flash with sympathy, remembering Spencer's initial question, "Oh, Spence, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"It's okay," He breathes out a shaky sigh of relief, reluctant to straighten up from where he's hugging you from behind, "You didn't even freak me out. Morgan did."

You laugh, and the sound soothes those frayed nerves in his chest, the ones that had lit with sparks of panic at Morgan's pity, "Well, don't listen to Morgan from now on. However," You reach for the donut, tearing it in half and holding one end out to Spencer while you catch the other between your teeth, "If it means I get donuts in apology, maybe I'll forget my wedding ring in my pocket more often."

[alixmarauders]

hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...

Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...

And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)

This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!

(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)

my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

slight angst / a bit of fluff

word count: 1.8k

CW: mention of abusive household

part 1, part 2 , part 3

When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.

Or at least you thought so.

You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.

It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.

“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.

“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.

“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”

“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.

“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.

You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong,  because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.

You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.

You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”

“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”

She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”

You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.

He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.

“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.

“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.

You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.

On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.

Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.

“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”

“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”

“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”

“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”

You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.

You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you,  but you still had James to count on.

On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.

Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.

And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.

[caraphernellie]

hiiii!! I saw a really good fanfic of yours about Ellie finding out that the reader has praise kink and I was wondering if you could do one where Ellie finds out about the shy reader having degradation kink. anyway, thank you <3

find the og drabble here... but omg ur mind… im sighing dreamily right now… warnings for degradation and slight humiliation obviously. she's going to be a lil mean. this is really short um... yea. this was a nightmare bc i couldn't figure out how to finish it without it seeming really abrupt tbh. and i took the pic for visual ref btw xxx

"oh, no."

ellie moves beside you, free hand grappling with you for the pillow you're using to cover your face. she reigns victorious in the small battle, ditching the pillow somewhere off the bed. she shushes you with haste, lying beside you. her other hand is working her fingers into your pussy, the digits curling with each flick of her wrist.

"i said there'd be no more of that, what happened to being a good girl?" ellie coos, looking down at you now. she's leaning over you, making sure to invade your space, leave no room for you to hide or look away. "are you gonna listen to me?"

as much as ellie feels bad for you always trying to hide, somewhere inside her really, really loves the shyness. being able to tease and make you feel helpless just with some eye contact, boring into you as unfalteringly as her fingers are.

"can't talk to me? is it because you're too dumb to form any words or you just don't want to?" 

"oh," you gasp and try to cover your face once more, this time with your hands, until ellie stops you. between soft moans you barely manage to whisper, "that was mean."

"mm," ellie agrees, "but let's not pretend you aren't moaning about it like a whore, yeah?" you're letting out the sweetest sounds she's ever heard, and to add more insult to her words she curls her fingers deeper into you, pressing up against your inner walls. she thought the praise kink was fairly discernible for you to have, but she just called you dumb and you're gushing over it. the reaction it's garnering is even greater than that of her praises, and all she can do now is smile cruelly and continue to degrade you.

ellie continues pumping her fingers in and out of your wrecked pussy, eliciting more and more of those whimpers, and glaring down at you. you try to close your legs, muscles tensing, and yet you're stopped by ellie once again. she moves her leg over yours, pinning you so you're splayed out for her.

"you're- e-embarrassing me," you whine, spluttering all kinds of pleas despite there being the tiniest semblance of a blissful smile on your dry lips, half-lidded eyes fluttering.

to that, ellie fucking laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "you think you're such a good liar. you sound pathetic, babe, can't focus on anything, can you?"

she's toying with you to the point where she's right. you're lightheaded, unable to do anything but squirm and rut against her hand, every word she utters another trigger that stirs the butterflies in your stomach.

"didn't know i had such a filthy slut all to myself."

masterlist <3

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men When You’re on Your Period

Fluff

JJK men x f! or uterus owning reader (no pronouns used)

This was a request from a Wattpad user but I hope you all enjoy it here as well :)

Warnings: mentions of blood

Note: some scenarios you're dating, some you aren't, but all have romantic/caring undertones!

Yuji:

You texted Yuji, devastated that your date plans were now ruined by the onslaught of your period. You were dealing with cramps that were far too painful to allow you to go anywhere and enjoy yourself so you opted to stay home, rescheduling for another time. Of course, Yuji came over immediately, your faithful boyfriend not wanting you to suffer alone.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do for you, babe?"

Yuji was staring at you with those big puppy dog eyes you adored and for a split second, all the pain you were feeling from your cramps seized.

"I'm sure," you said, squeezing out a small smile while trying not to groan at the discomfort that came back, "but thank you anyway. I really appreciate you asking."

"I just hate to see you in pain like this every month."

Now he was frowning. You were about to tell him not to worry about it, as it was something you just got accustomed to over the years, but his face lit up and you knew he had a great idea cross his mind.

"How about I make some snacks and we can watch movies all night! I know that always makes me feel better!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his determination, grateful for such a sweet boyfriend.

Megumi:

"What's wrong? Your sparring hasn't been very good all day."

Megumi never minced his words and while you usually loved his brutal honesty, today was the one day where you really took what he said to heart. Trying not to cry from frustration, you silently grabbed your bag, eager to leave the training area before you would burst into tears.

"Y/n, wait, I'm sorry," Megumi said, not wanting you to leave, "I didn't mean to make you upset-"

"I'm on my period, everything hurts, and I just want to lay down," you pleaded.

Megumi's eyes widened before settling back into his neutral expression. "Go get some rest, I'll make you tea. Do you have painkillers and a heating pad?"

You knit your eyebrows in confusion. "I do, and thank you for asking, but... how do you know about all of that stuff?"

"Tsumiki," he said, bashfully rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "I used to help her during her... time of the month."

You pulled Megumi into a bone crushing hug, catching him off guard at first before he melted into your embrace.

"She was extremely lucky to have you around," you murmured into his hair, "as am I."

Yuta:

The ever perceptive boy he was, Yuta noticed you were acting off all day but he didn't know how to approach the subject because a) he's so awkward with his words around you, and b) he didn't want to make you any more upset than you already were. However, he wasn't going to watch you struggle by yourself without at least offering some semblance of help so he swallowed his fear and greeted you as you tore through the cabinets of the common kitchen.

"Can I help you find something?" he asked, sporting a kind smile.

"I could've sworn I had a whole stash of chocolate bars in here somewhere," you muttered.

"Oh, those? I think I saw Gojo sensei eating them last week."

You froze. "What?"

Yuta suddenly felt scared as he saw your face darken. "Y-yeah, he has a sweet tooth, a-and, you know, I didn't know who they belonged to or else I would've told you-"

"It's not your fault, Yuta, don't worry about it. Thanks for telling me."

He watched as you began to get up from the ground, your expression contorting into a grimace. He hurried over to you to help you stand, lifting you by your hand.

"Are you alright? I've noticed you haven't been yourself all day and I didn't want to be rude by asking, but now it looks like you're in pain and I'm worried."

Yuta and his word vomit made you smile for the first time in nearly a week. "You're always so sweet. Yes, I'm alright, I'm on my period and I've had some pretty bad cramps."

He nodded in understanding. "That explains the chocolate. I know where Toge keeps a stash of his own if you want me to show you!"

"I would love that," you said, bringing him into a hug that left him a blushing mess.

Inumaki:

You were currently sprawled out on your bed, scrolling through your phone and wishing the throbbing discomfort from your period would stop, even if for only a moment. You were pulled from your mindless social media swiping by a knock at your door.

"Come in!"

Toge entered your room, multiple bags hanging from his arms that he unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. Out tumbled a barrage of snacks, both sweet and salty. He also brought over a video game console that he, thankfully, had put down earlier before throwing everything on the ground.

"Tuna tuna!" he chirped happily.

"It looks like you're moving in," you replied, laughing, "but seriously, thank you for coming over. You always make me feel better."

You saw his eyes crinkle with joy, meaning underneath his collar, he was smiling as well. All of a sudden you were hit with a wave of pain and you grabbed onto your stomach, taking in a sharp breath. Toge was quick to hold your hand and lead you to the couch, also grabbing your heating pad and a blanket so you could get comfortable. He then placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before typing a message on his phone.

Don't worry, kitten whiskers, daddy's here to take care of you.

Shaking your head, you replied, "You are such a weirdo."

He grinned mischievously. But you love me anyway.

"Unfortunately."

Noritoshi:

"Hey, you left your book in my room so I brought it back-woah, what happened in here?"

When you were on your period, you found it difficult to stay on top of your daily chores, thus the reason why your room looked like a disaster and why Noritoshi was very concerned for your wellbeing.

"Ugh, I'm sorry for the mess," you said, sitting up with a groan. You had a bad headache and no energy to clean up the piles of clothes and other discarded items. "I'm on my period and just have no motivation whatsoever."

"I see," he replied. "Don't worry. You get some rest and I'll help clean up a bit if that's alright."

"Are you sure? I know you're probably really busy."

"I'm never too busy for you, y/n."

You felt your face warm as he gave you a small smile and began working: folding clean clothes neatly, throwing away trash, putting items back on shelves. In no time, your room was as spotless as the day you moved in--or more so.

"If there's anything else I can do to help, please, text or call me. I won't hesitate to come back over," he said earnestly.

"Thank you so much for doing that, it means a lot to me," you told him.

"It's the least I could do. I'll see you around," he said from the threshold.

He paused.

"Do you like tea?" he suddenly called from over his shoulder.

"I do."

He hummed in acknowledgment and closed the door behind him.

A half hour later, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, there was no one there, but you were greeted with a to go cup and a note written in the most beautiful handwriting.

My family's special tea remedy. I hope this helps with any pain. Feel better soon.

K.N.

Todo:

You were out shopping with your boyfriend Aoi when you felt a strange sensation wash over you, looking off into the distance akin to Alice from Twilight when she got struck by visions. In a flash, you were shouting apologies to Aoi while running to the bathroom. Luckily, you had somehow made it to the toilet before your period had fully begun, your keen senses saving your outfit. However, you didn't have any menstrual products with you. You sat in the stall for a long while, going over your choices in this situation. You could try waiting for someone to come in, ask them for a pad or tampon, but it was a quiet area and you didn't foresee a whole ton of people coming in. You could also do the famous "toilet paper pad" but those were never reliable and usually led to an even bigger mess. You sighed, reaching for your phone. Your boyfriend was going to have to come to your rescue.

You: sorry I just started my period and don't have anything with me

You: could you pls buy me some pads/tampons? <3

Todolly Hot bf: OF COURSE BABY JUST HANG TIGHT

Todolly Hot bf: :D

Not even 5 minutes later, you got another text.

Todolly Hot bf: ILL BE RIGHT THERE

You heard Aoi's loud voice boom from outside the bathroom.

"Y/n! I'm coming in!"

You first saw his hair peeking over the top of the stall, then you were greeted with the sound of a plethora of products as he shuffled through his bag, eagerly telling you what he bought.

"I got regular, maxi, super maxi, long regular with wings, super extra long maxi with extra long wings..."

As he continued on in the background, you smiled at how lucky you were to have such a doting partner.

Ino:

You felt bad for turning down Ino's invitation to go out, but you just weren't in the mood to be in public right now. Your period was making everything a hassle and you wanted to just relax at home. To no one's surprise, Ino showed up at your door in hopes of making you feel a little better. What did surprise you, though, was the huge basket of goodies he was currently holding.

"I got you a little something," he said, his boyish grin on full display.

"That's like, 10 things more than a little, Ino," you said with a laugh.

"I felt bad because I don't know exactly what you're going through but I do know what it's like to feel down so I hope this can kinda help with that at least."

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, baby. You really know how to make me feel special."

Ino became meek, blushing at your affection, before an excited look took over his face. "Babe! You have to see this right now."

He thrust something soft into your grasp.

"It's a shark plushie! You know, 'cuz the whole shark... week... thing..."

You could tell Ino was rethinking that sentence as it came out of his mouth but even though it was cheesy, you still loved the gift and the thought that went behind it.

Gojo:

"Satoru, I love you, but if you don't be quiet right now I will literally smother you."

"Huh? You usually love the sound of my perfectly on key voice."

You boyfriend was busy singing badly to a song on his phone and you, thanks to your period, had a raging headache, making your patience as thin as a credit card.

"While true, I'm not on my period those other days."

"Thankfully."

That earned him a smack on the arm. "I'm going to sit on the couch. My cordless heat pad broke and that's the only place the other one's cord will reach."

You gave him a kiss and set off for the family room, leaving him alone. He didn't really know how to take care of someone, but he had his own love language that you learned, over time, was how he showed he cared: gift giving.

Immediately, Satoru got on his phone and bought the nicest, most expensive cordless heat pad the market had to offer, scheduled to be delivered at his door step in less than 3 hours. Feeling bad for unknowingly annoying you, he researched things that could help with period pains so he could make it up to you. He quickly made his way to you and stretched his arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles, all while giving you a smirk that spelled trouble.

"Get comfy, baby. I'm giving you a massage."

Geto:

"Talk to me, my love. What's going on?"

You had woken up feeling horrible, your period wreaking havoc on your body. Your stomach was the next thing to betray you and now you were locked in the bathroom, crying because of how horrible you felt. You knew Suguru would be worried for you, but you found it hard to find the words to describe the hell you were in at that moment.

"Darling?"

"Sorry, Suguru, I just don't feel good at all. My period is really messing with me," you managed to sputter out in between tears.

"Oh honey," his soft voice soothed through the closed door, "I'm sorry. Let me help you. I'll get your heating pad ready and some water for pain medicine, okay?"

When you were finished in the bathroom, you saw that your boyfriend had made an oasis in your bedroom. The curtains were drawn, the lights were low, relaxing music was playing in the background, your heating pad was set up with a glass of water and a cup of tea on your nightstand.

"I'll draw you a bath later," he purred, taking a hold of your hand and walking you to your bed. He smoothed the hair away from your forehead as you laid back down, giving you a sweet kiss on the exposed skin.

"Rest well, my love."

Nanami:

"L/n, are you feeling okay? Forgive my bluntness, but you look distressed."

And distressed you were. You were on the worst day of your period, your flow giving you unending problems like nausea and pain, and of course this had to happen while you were working. You didn't want to make Kento uncomfortable by telling him your personal details, but you knew he wouldn't be satisfied without a real answer.

"I'm on my period," you confessed, sparing him the details.

"Oh, I see."

Silence.

He spoke up again. "If I may, would you allow me to cook you dinner tonight? You'll need some rest after the work day is finished. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

Naturally, you accepted, and that's why Kento was in your kitchen that evening, filling your apartment with the most mouthwatering aromas.

"I made chicken with a sauce featuring ginger and turmeric, along with sides of spinach and quinoa," he explained, serving you. "There's plenty of iron, protein, and anti inflammatory properties in this dish, all of which should help you during this time of the month."

When he placed your plate in front of you, you gently grasped his hand before it left your reach. "Thank you. For all of this."

He had a look of surprise that melted into a tender gaze. "Of course. I'm always here for you."

Choso:

You were struggling for your life on your couch. Okay, not really, but it felt like one wrong move and you'd bleed out for good. Being on your period was never fun, but having an attentive boyfriend certainly was.

"Y/n? More tea?"

"Can I get you a heating pad?"

"Which blanket would you like?"

"Would you like a massage?"

"I made cookies!"

These were all things that your boyfriend Choso had been saying to you all day, and you couldn't lie, you enjoyed being taken care of like that. Right now you were indulging in the double chocolate cookies he had just baked while he sat with his legs criss crossed on the ground in front of you.

"How are they? Are they baked enough? Too overdone? Not chocolatey enough?"

"Choso," you laughed, ruffling his hair, "it's delicious. Everything you've done for me today has been beyond perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am to have you as a boyfriend."

He smiled. "I just want to help. Since I can't take away your pain, I want to lessen it in any way I can."

Toji:

Waking up after a night at your boyfriend's house was always a pleasant experience for you, and this morning was no different.

Until you noticed a very unpleasant sticky feeling beneath you.

You gasped as you saw your worst nightmare come true--you had started your period and bled all over yourself and Toji's bed. You heard clattering from the kitchen meaning Toji wasn't in the bathroom so you ran in there as fast as you could, slamming the door behind you.

"You alright in there?" Toji asked.

"Umm... not really," you admitted, ripping open his bathroom cabinet to search for a pad or tampon. "Don't go in your room, okay?"

"Eh? Why?"

Your face burned with embarrassment. "I... started my period and ruined your sheets. I promise I'll clean it all, I just need a second."

You groaned. His cabinets were practically bare, save for the minimal amounts of his own hygiene products.

"You know what I do for a living, right? A little bit of blood isn't gonna scare me off, sweetheart. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. You just get cleaned up."

"Thanks Toji. You don't happen to have pads or tampons, do you?"

"Uhh... I have rags?"

You rolled your eyes. "This isn't the 1800s, that's not gonna work."

"Right. Tell me what you need, I'm going to the store."

[rationaliity]

dr ratio vs. the genius society | an analysis

this'll also be a comparison between ruan mei and dr. ratio so warning for that one too, just in case.

i saw this post by @chronical-lover

and firstly, i just want to say thank you, especially about mentioning how aeons don't care about humans because youre so right. i wanna expand a little bit on the comparison between his character and the genius' that we've met this far.

ratio ultimately failed to be recognized not because he wasn't smart enough, but because he was too human. he's human first, scientist second. he'll always be human first, he doesn't have it in him to act without emotions no matter how much he wants logic to dictate his every move. his entire character is that he believes every one has a human right to be alive, to learn and to grow. he's there to guide them, not necessarily in the nicest way, but still.

i think contrasting him with ruan mei in the story quest was a perfect idea. when you meet ruan mei, she's kind. she makes the trailblazer feel comfortable, even for just a little bit. she offers companionship, tea, and a conversation. but she does not care about the trailblazer or her creations, something painfully obvious in her actions. when the trailblazer was facing up against ruan mei's failed attempt to make a replica of the emanator of propagation, ruan mei was no where to be found. but you know who was, just in case he had to step in ? veritas ratio. even though both knew that the replica wasn't likely to hurt the trailblazer, ratio was there.

" since you're here, i won't intercede. but should you fail, i will be forced to prevent some avoidable misfortunes "

( i hate this man so much )

but he was there. he witnessed the fight, and once the threat was over, it was time to get going ( his words, not mine ). he was there to witness you fight, and should he had needed to, he would've stepped in to prevent us from any actual danger. however, when we approach ruan mei after the fight, and we look reasonably upset from her, we don't get an actual apology. she says she regrets her actions, but her words aren't actually about putting us in danger. she was upset that her experiment fell short, that she had made another predictable outcome.

" you look.. upset, correct ? i regret my actions. there's no defending what i've done. time and again, my experiments have fallen short, and they've always yielded predictable results. i made a clone but it.. doesn't hold a candle to the emanator. "

she did say that she would be there if the danger proved to be too great, but she was not. veritas, however, was. both of them said that they would step in if needed, but only one of them was actually in a position to do so. only one of them took preventative measures to make sure that you were safe from harm. and that is not the genius ruan mei, no matter what her words say.

ruan mei has a flowery way of speaking. not to say that she necessarily minces her words, she's upfront about a lot of things. but she lures the trailblazer into a false sense of security. she's introspective, and questions her own actions a lot. but she's never apologetic about the way that her actions put other people in danger, just that they don't yield the results she wants.

ratio, however, is curt. we meet him originally as a brooding, mysterious figure. he's mean, he doesn't use a lot of words to get his point across. he says what he means, and he's a fan of effective communication. he doesn't have to worry about himself, he knows who he is and how is actions affect himself and the people around him, and that leads to people assuming that he's egotistical ( which he might be , a little bit. as a treat ) but the reality is that ratio cares more about the people around him that he'll ever let on.

and that's where he fails. that's the fundamental difference between him and those within the genius society. ruan mei, herta, screwllum, and the other geniuses do not care about anything other than results. and yet ratio is kind. he's inherently kind, his actions are all for other people. he's saved a dozen worlds with his inventions. he's a scholar within the intelligentsia guild, and a doctor saving his patient's lives every single day. he wants to guide people from the shadows towards the right answer, he wants to make them use their brains and think.

he does not act without considering other people. he can't be a genius first, and a human second. and that's where he fails to gain nous' recognition. it's not that he's not not intelligent enough to be a genius, it's that even in his pursuit of knowledge, he has not forgone his humanity.

and perhaps, in nous' eyes, that's the difference between the mediocre and the genius. to erase every part of you, your emotions, your empathy, your humanity, in the pursuit of knowledge is what separates a genius from the masses. not having those barriers allows you to really dig deep into subjects that would otherwise be considered taboo or dangerous, because you don't care about how the outcome affects people as long as you can study it. as long as you can get answers out of what you're studying, it doesn't really matter what the test subjects are feeling.

ratio is too human, too caring, to ever be considered a genius in nous' eyes.

[sunny44]

No baby here

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy

Summary: because of a mistake, Charles believes that you’re pregnant.

Next Part

Yourusername Instagram stories

She had told me she was going out with her sister, and when I asked where they were going, she wouldn't tell me exactly, just said they were having a girls' afternoon.

But when I saw that photo, I couldn't believe it.

At first, I was shocked that she posted it online before telling me, but then I started celebrating and was so excited that nothing could bring me down that day.

I bought all the things she likes to eat and also went to a baby clothing store to get some things.

I got home, and she wasn't there, so I figured she was in the shower, giving me time to organize the food on the counter and put the gifts in the box.

"Hi, love," I heard her say as she hugged me from behind. "Wow, what's the occasion?”

"None, I just wanted to surprise you," I turned to her, and she smiled, giving me a kiss.

"You're so sweet, you know that?" She gave me another peck and turned around as I put my hand on her belly, luckily unnoticed. "And what's in this little box?"

"It's a gift." She took it and gave it a shake.

"Can I open it?"

"Yeah." She smiled and opened the box.

"I don't get it," she said. "Are you pregnant?"

"What? No, you are."

"What?" She asked, turning around alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about? I would have preferred you told me before posting it online, but..."

"Wait a minute." She interrupted me. "Told you what?"

"That you're pregnant."

"But I'm not pregnant."

"Then whose ultrasounds are those you posted on your stories?" Immediately, she widened her eyes and grabbed her phone, realizing there were thousands of messages on Instagram congratulating us, and various gossip profiles spreading the news.

“Oh my god.”

"What happened?"

"I didn't tell you where I was going today because I was accompanying my sister to her appointment because she's pregnant with Michael, and instead of sending the photos to my mom, I posted them." She said, embarrassed. "Oh God, I'm so stupid."

"Hey, it's okay." I tried to ease the situation.

"I'm so sorry, love." She said, and I hugged her.

"It's okay."

"Now I understand why you were so excited, and there are the baby clothes too." She said with a choked voice, and I wiped the tears from her eyes. "You were so sweet to prepare everything, and I disappointed you."

"Hey, you didn't disappoint me." I held her face. "It's not our baby, but it's a good thing. Let's be happy for your sister, and when our time comes, I'll be just as excited as I was today."

"Promise you're not upset?"

"I promise." She agreed, and I gave her a quick kiss. "Now let's eat because later we need to clarify things for everyone online and also give these clothes as a gift to your sister."

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc, @f1gossip, @yoursister and others 19370

Yourusername Hello guys, I posted some ultrasound photos on my stories a few hours ago, and I just wanted to say they're not mine.

Charlie and I aren't having a baby yet; the photos were of my sister, and I accidentally posted them instead of sending them to my mom.

Thank you all for the kind messages, and I apologize for the confusion.

Ps: my “baby bump” it’s actually a Burguer bump.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

I’d love a request where the reader is Bobbys daughter and dating Buck. It’s a hot day and the reader has gone to the firehouse to see everyone but she ends up feeling unwell because of the heat and Buck looks after her.

hello, love! ahh thank you so much for this request! and thanks to everyone who voted! it's my first time writing for Buck so I hope you like it! also, I'm not sure why, I swear I read somewhere that Bobby didn't know they were dating so that's kind of the course this took, so I hope that's okay! Warnings: reader faints because of the heat; I think that’s it, but always let me know if I missed anything Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Heatwave

"Okay, how does this look?" you asked, placing the lasagna in the middle of the table. Buck had texted you that the team was on their way back so you needed to hurry up.

"For the third time, honey, yes. It looks good" Athena said as she brought the bread with her and you went over to finish the salad you were making. You had learned a thing or two from your father and you started to actually enjoy cooking. It brought the two of you together after you lost the rest of your family, and it usually helped calm you down, but not today. "Look, I know you're nervous about telling your dad about you and Buck, but you need to breathe and relax" she said, walking closer to you.

You had been seeing Buck for a long time now. At first, you didn't want to tell your dad, mostly because you weren't even sure if the two of you were serious. Then, it got serious quickly and the two of you agreed to tell your dad when you were both ready. So now, because the two of you wanted to move in together, you knew you had to tell him. So, here you were, cooking your father's favorite meal for lunch, and hoping to have your dad in a good mood for later tonight when you were going to finally tell him.

"I know, I know" you said to Athena, who had kindly volunteered to help you since it was her day off. "It's just... my dad has hated every single boyfriend I've had" you told her.

"Oh, I know. He's told me about all the insipid, idiot, good-for-nothings you've dated before" she said, making you widen your eyes at her. "His words not mine" she said, making you roll your eyes. "But he adores Buck, like his own son. I mean, they even went to a Bruce Springsteen concert together" she reminded you.

"Ugh, I know, nobody loves Springsteen as much as those two" you said, making Athena let out a chuckle. "Look, I know he loves Buck... as part of his team. I'm not sure if he's gonna love Buck as my boyfriend" you said, nervously.

"Of course he will. Because as much as he loves Buck, he loves you more than anything and anyone" she reminded you. "And he's going to see how happy he makes you" she smiled.

"You really think so?" you asked, smiling back.

"I really do" she nodded. It actually meant a lot to you what Athena thought too. You knew she didn't particularly like Buck at first, but she had mentioned to you how he's changed and how she sees that the two of you brought out the best in each other. "Looks like they're here" she said, when you saw the truck pulling into the station.

"Okay" you said, placing the salad on the table. "I think the bear claws are done" you said, wiping your hands on your apron, and went over to the oven.

"Really? You had to make his favorite dessert?" Athena said, rolling her eyes. "Aren't you trying a bit too hard?"

"Better safe than sorry" you smiled nervously.

"Hey, what's all this?" Hen asked, being the first one to get upstairs.

"Do I smell your dad's famous lasagna?" Chim was the next one to appear. "Please tell me I'm right" he smiled, seeing at the setup table.

"You are correct" you smiled.

"Oh, this is why you're my favorite Nash" he smiled.

"Hey! I heard that" you heard your father coming up. "This is a nice surprise" he smiled, looking at the two of you before he went over to his wife and gave her a kiss.

"Yeah-" Athena started before you interrupted her.

"It was Athena's idea" you quickly said. "I uh, just... tagged along to help with the cooking" you smiled as Buck and Eddie finally made it upstairs.

"Hey, little Nash" Eddie said, walking over to greet you. Aside from Athena, he was the only one who knew about the two of you. And Christopher.

"Well, I'm happy to see you" Bobby said, before walking over to you and kissing your head. "Both of you" he added. "This looks good, duck" he smiled as you rolled your eyes a little.

"Why is it that he calls you duck?" you heard Chimney ask when he was taking his seat.

"Why does he call you Chimney?" you smirked and he glared at you.

Your dad laughed and walked over to the table with Athena as he started telling Hen and Chim that he called you duck because you used to be a really grumpy kid and when you were a toddler, you sounded like Donald Duck whenever you argued with him about something.

"Hey" Buck said, walking closer to you as you walked to the oven. "How are you feeling?" he smiled.

"I'm... fine" you smiled wearily.

"You're a terrible liar" he chuckled.

"I know" you said, opening the oven and feeling the heat struck you. It was already extremely hot outside. This just made it ten times worse. "I'm just a little nervous" you said, getting back up, suddenly feeling dizzy, and making you drop the tray with bear claws a bit faster and louder than you intended on the counter, getting the attention of the four people on the table.

"Whoa" Buck said, worriedly, getting closer to you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked. "You're sweating a lot"

"Yeah, no I just... felt a bit light-headed" you said, placing your wrist on your forehead.

"Did you eat something today? Maybe you need to sit down" Buck said pulling you closer to him. "Look at me" he instructed.

"I'm fine, sweetheart-" you tried smiling before Buck saw your eyes roll over to the back of your head and you collapsed in front of him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, preventing you from falling all the way to the ground.

"Bobby!" Buck yelled, even if Bobby was already rushing to you as Buck and Eddie carried you to the sofa.

"Chim! Hen! Get your bag!" Bobby ordered. "What happened?"

"I think it's the heat" Eddie said as Chimney came running back up with his bag, handing Hen what she needed.

"Did she eat anything at all today?" she questioned.

"Not while she was with me" Athena replied.

"She didn't have breakfast either" Buck said, feeling guilty. He was the main reason why you were late and didn't have breakfast.

"What? She didn't?" Bobby asked, confused. "Wait, how do you know that?"

"Um... she texted me?" Buck smiled, nervously as Eddie and Athena shared a look, thinking it was probably best to give everyone some space.

"You two... text each other?" Bobby asked as Chimney and Hen shared a different, confused look.

"Oh, I did not see this coming" Chim muttered to Hen.

"Seriously? You didn't?" she asked before going back to examining you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You slowly opened your eyes and realized you were at the 118 station and you had a cold cloth pressed against your forehead. You tried to sit up but Buck quickly ran over to you.

"Whoa, easy there, love" he said, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "Hi" he smiled sweetly at you, offering you a bottle of water. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit dumb, to be honest" you chuckled, accepting the water and taking a sip. "W-what happened?"

"You fainted" he reminded you. "Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you hadn't eaten today?"

"I'm sorry" you frowned. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. I didn't have time to eat this morning and, then I went to work, and then I started cooking and I lost track of time and, I guess the heat didn't help" you said shyly.

"No, it didn't" your dad said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the sofa. "How are you feeling duck?"

"A bit better" you said.

"Well, it's a good thing your boyfriend is always alert and quick on his feet" he said, casually.

"Yeah, he- wait, what did you say?" you froze, realizing what he'd just say. "Did I hit my head?" you asked Buck. "Did my dad just call you my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, sweetheart" Buck smiled apologetically. "I know you had a whole thing planned tonight, but I let it slip that you didn't have breakfast today, and well... I kind of told him" he explained.

"Y-you did?" you asked, feeling a bit nauseous again. "Does he know we're moving in together?"

"What?!"

"He does now" Buck said with a tight-lipped smile.

"You're moving in together?" your dad asked.

"I uh-" you stuttered. "Y-yeah" you admitted. "W-we were going to tell you tonight at dinner" you insisted.

"Is that why you came to make my favorite lunch? So I'd be in a good mood?" he asked, knowing you too well.

"M-maybe?" you smiled. "A-are you mad?"

"No, honey. I'm not mad" he chuckled, pulling you closer and kissing your temple. "I don't love the fact that you hid it from me for so long" he added. "But I'm glad you're with someone who I know cares about you as much as I know Buck does" he smiled. "And, if I'm being honest, I kind of suspected it for a while" he said, surprising you.

"You did not" you glared at him.

"You both are terrible liars and I mean, you only make bear claws when you're giving me bad news" he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

"Wait, does that mean, I'm bad news?" Buck asked.

"What? N-no" you said unconvincingly. "I make them when I'm not sure how he will react" you insisted.

"Yeah" Bobby said. "To bad news" he repeated with a chuckle. I'm glad you're happy, duck" he told you.

"Thanks, dad" you smiled. "I really am" you told him.

"I'm gonna go get you something to eat, okay?" he said, getting up and kissing your head again. "Don't ever scare me like that again" he muttered before walking away.

"So, your dad knows about us" Buck smiled at you.

"Yeah, and it didn't go bad at all" you said, excitedly.

"Not bad at all? Sweetheart, do I need to remind you that you just fainted?"

"Well, yeah but... I mean aside from that" you pouted, making him smile at you before giving you a peck on the lips.

"You really scared me" he said, worriedly.

"I'm sorry, love" you insisted.

"You don't have to apologize" he said. "Especially since it was kind of my fault you didn't have breakfast" he said, blushing a little. "But now that we are going to live together, I will make sure you don't leave the house without eating first" he instructed, making you roll your eyes a little.

"Fine" you smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. "I love you" you told him.

"I love you too" he smiled.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: aahhh! I hope you loves liked it!

[vidavalor]

The *Original* Original Sin Theory or... why Aziraphale's "I forgive you"s really mean "forgive me" and just why he wants Crowley's absolution...

Will this break your heart in a good way and make the end of S2 hurt less? more? both? idk let's find out...

I want to talk about what the Before the Beginning scene does to the Eden scene and what all that suggests about Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship... because it might be enough to upend what we think this relationship is quite a bit, at least from Aziraphale's POV, if it goes in the direction that I think they are hinting at in S3, which I'm basing off of where they took it in S2 in these scenes.

This also contains an analysis of That Scene from 2.06 that ties into lots of other scenes and some other meta related to the show and it's a bit long-- like, the mother of all metas-- but there are pretty gifs and I brought snacks? Just letting you know it's a long post but tuck in with some tea if you're in the mood and thanks for reading. :)

Under the big cutty thing...

Before we get started, a couple of quick warnings: I curse a bit in here. It's in the show itself but just letting you know it's here a bit, too. I also mention *very* briefly suicide ideation in the characters and also very briefly (one sentence) Satan's mind-control of Crowley in S1 in a way that might be sensitive for a sexual assault survivor. There is general mention of religious trauma and abusive relationships (not Crowley & Aziraphale's relationship) all over this. If you are okay with the show, you should be more than fine reading this but just wanted to let you know up front. If you're okay with that, read on...

So, the Before the Beginning scene contains a twist, in that we learn that pre-Fall Crowley is naive to Heaven while Aziraphale is the one who is wary of it. This is especially interesting because, best we can tell, no angel has Fallen yet. There aren't *explicit* consequences for asking questions yet, as Crowley doesn't think it could get him into trouble to do so... but *Aziraphale* does. Heaven in S1 and S2 is shown to be basically a fascist state full of bullies jockeying for power where the ones on top dole out all sorts of abuses to maintain a sense of order among the rank and file. We see the emotional and even physical abuse they dole out to Aziraphale and how little they tolerate any sort of dissent, even from an archangel, based on what they ultimately do when Gabriel doesn't want to do arma-bloody-geddon anymore. Heaven is basically The Kremlin. Toe out of line and they'll toss you off a high-rise while telling everyone how sad it is that you recently had a spell of depression and heart troubles as a way of scaring everyone else into submission, right? What's surprising to us is that Aziraphale knows this *absolutely* Before the Beginning and he's terrified on Crowley's behalf, since this place functions as a kind of mafia state.

This implies something really kind of dark which is that Aziraphale knows enough to know how to toe a party line and keep quiet about any doubts he has. He knows how to survive in a way that then-innocent Crowley did not. He tries to tell Crowley that questioning things is going to get him angel-killed but Crowley has a faith in God that's different than Aziraphale's was even before the Earth was fully created. Crowley believed in Her more than Aziraphale does. He doesn't think anything will happen to him. Aziraphale knows what will and this implies knowledge of the abuse of the system and it completely changes our perspective of Aziraphale throughout the rest of the series. We often think of him as either willfully naive or just desperately optimistic regarding Heaven's goodness but, in reality, he's neither of those things. He's something else, entirely. His actions are not expressing naivete or desperate optimism or anything else.

They are expressions of guilt.

And the Eden scene tells us why he has that guilt.

The Eden scene introduces us to Crowley and Aziraphale and the series itself and it has Crowley posit the central question of the show regarding the nature of angels and demons:

Objectively, when you watch this scene, you think this is about the tempting of Eve and the flaming sword. It is... but it's also not *just* about that. Because Crowley and Aziraphale are watching Adam & Eve venture off beyond the Garden of Eden in this scene. They're still within view so the flaming sword situation happened a matter of minutes earlier. Yet, when Crowley posits that central question of which one of them actually did the good thing and which did the bad thing, Aziraphale reveals that it wouldn't be funny at all if what Crowley is saying (that Aziraphale actually did the bad thing) is true. He's distressed about it and so Crowley, somewhat dryly, reassures him that he's an angel so he couldn't have done the wrong thing. (Crowley, of course, being a literal former angel punished for doing the wrong thing lol and that being the joke but also in there is also the layer of Crowley genuinely liking Aziraphale and trying to tell him that it's all okay and meaning it.) Aziraphale is relieved and this is the key bit here-- he says oh good "because it's been bothering me."

The tone of this is that this central question of whether or not he did wrong or right by Crowley and whether or not Crowley was wrong or right in his actions *has been bothering* Aziraphale and he phrases it in a way that implies he's been losing angelic sleep (so to speak) about it for a little while now. If this was *just about Adam and Eve* then Aziraphale's reaction here makes absolutely no sense because the camera also then cuts in their conversation to in front of Crowley and Aziraphale *to show us Adam and Eve still visible in the near-distance* fighting off the lion with the flaming sword. They literally *just left* so how could Aziraphale be all in knots for awhile now over whether or not he made the wrong call? He's not. You can argue that his decision here in Eden to help Adam and Eve by giving them his flaming sword-- by standing up and doing something in the face of God to help out other beings he secretly thinks might have been treated unfairly-- *is a direct response to what he failed to do back in Before the Beginning*...

... which was to stand up for Crowley.

Meaning: Aziraphale doesn't need to see Heaven's files to find out what happened to Crowley when Crowley fell because he was there. S3 is going to be about preventing the Second Coming and so plot allusions to the crucification (which had its own Crowley & Aziraphale scene in S1) will likely abound. Aziraphale was there when Lucifer and The Gang were tossed out of Heaven. To be fair to Aziraphale, there is basically nothing he could have done to prevent this and the best possible situation is that he didn't even have the chance to. The worst possible situation is that he's literally Judas and sold Crowley out, out of fear of being tossed out of Heaven himself. I tend to think it's more that he just didn't stand up and say anything in support of Crowley to prevent himself from being seen as on the side of the eventual demons. Still, just as Crowley thinks the punishment for Adam and Eve was harsh, Aziraphale thought that asking questions and being curious wasn't enough to send Lucifer and everyone around him to Hell to be damned for all of eternity but it caused an obvious existential crisis in him that he still struggles to totally resolve.

If he disagreed with the decision to cast out the suggestion box-happy angels, he was as "bad" as they were. If he agreed with the decision, he was condemning them and that didn't seem angelic, either. How to be a good angel, which is the only thing he had ever tried to be or knew how to be? He did what he thought must be right-- to follow what the other, more powerful angels said the word of God was-- and if it was Her will, then it must be what was right, even if it was *extremely difficult* to see how this lovebug here was really an evil, demonic creature of Hell...

Not to mention that Aziraphale was in love with WhateverHeWasCalledPre-Crawly!Crowley. (We will just call him "Crowley" for this whole meta, because that is the name he chose for himself.) And maybe Angel!Crowley went after the more glamorous, daring guys. Heaven honestly seems like both a fascist state and high school at once (is there really a difference? lol). Crowley describes how he wound up falling in S1 as that he "hung out with the wrong crowd" and Aziraphale in Before the Beginning honestly seems like he's been flying around watching Crowley make stars for ages, trying to work up the nerve to or find an opportunity to introduce himself to the beautiful hot cool arty science-y guy who barely looks at him when his other option for a view are nebulas... or Benedict Cumberbatch's Lucifer/Satan, whose "stroke of demonic genius, dahling" bit in S1 and dark assault on his fave Crowley while Crowley was driving had a real "Angel!Crowley went for the bad boy who were so bad pre-Fall that they wound up fucking Satan afterwards and friend-zoned angels like Aziraphale" vibes. Alternatively, maybe he didn't totally? Before the Beginning seems to be the first time they met and maybe after that, Crowley and Aziraphale became close. It's just that Crowley canonically also wound up sitting at the cool kids' table because they were the only ones questioning things and he wound up damned for eternity for it and Aziraphale?

Aziraphale blames himself for it.

He has blamed himself for Crowley's Fall for six thousand years.

When they speak in Eden, Aziraphale is being confronted for the first time with what has come of his nebula-joyous, freshly baked blueberry muffin of an angel. He calls himself "Crawly" now-- or that's the name he's been given-- because who he was is dead. His eyes are yellow. He's now a snake. He's maybe a bit sarcastic, a bit dry, and a lot more guarded and aloof but Aziraphale sees flickers of Angel!Crowley in there. He's *kind* to Aziraphale. He's still inquisitive, in spite of it being what damned him to Hell. Aziraphale, God help him, is still wildly into him and, ugh, maybe even *more* so, in spite of everything.

And 'everything', for Aziraphale, includes Crowley being a demon being Aziraphale's fault.

They don't talk about it. Ever.

They don't talk about it because Aziraphale thinks that Crowley doesn't remember. Crowley's memory loss of a lot of his time pre-Fall is canon in S2-- something we, the audience, will need to understand the whole picture when/if we end up getting this revelation in S3 of Crowley's Fall and that Aziraphale feels he's at least partially responsible. What's even harder for Aziraphale is that because Crowley doesn't remember his time as an angel, he doesn't remember their full history together. He doesn't remember how they met and protecting Aziraphale from the first celestial shower and all the times they chatted after that and if they were in love back then, Crowley doesn't remember it. Eden then becomes, to Crowley, the first time they meet... but then look at how while Aziraphale seems to think that Crowley doesn't know him while Aziraphale knows Crowley-- the moment that he pauses so Crowley can introduce himself-- *Crowley* seems a little bemused. Why?

Because what Aziraphale has failed to consider is that the one memory that the demons are allowed to keep, most likely, is their Fall, which means that if Aziraphale was there when Crowley fell, Crowley actually *does* remember him. At minimum, he remembers Aziraphale being there and looking stricken by what was happening so even if he can't remember more than that, he knows he's safe with Aziraphale and that Aziraphale cared about him, which would explain why he risked going to talk to with him on the wall in Eden. He knows they were friends and that Aziraphale is good and he can trust him. It's also theoretically possible that if Crowley remembers his Fall and if Aziraphale was there, it's a trigger to him being able to remember all of his and Aziraphale's time before Crowley fell. Aziraphale might not know this and because these two idiots do not know how to talk-- and especially don't talk about this-- Crowley hasn't told him. In part because Crowley can't go back and he doesn't want them to dwell on Angel!Crowley when Crowley is who he is and if that's a demon, it's a demon, and the whole system can go fuck itself anyway, as far as Crowley's concerned.

Aziraphale, though, is still back on "it's my fault". He thinks he literally took goodness from the world; that he participated in the murder of his friend and the love of his life. He has never. In six. thousand. years. lol. told Crowley that he feels like this because he still thinks that Crowley doesn't remember Aziraphale betraying him and he is terrified that if he told Crowley he did-- if he told him that he was responsible, in part, for his Fall-- that Crowley would hate him and Crowley is Aziraphale's only friend in the universe and Aziraphale is madly in love with him. He couldn't bear the loss of him. He can handle their occasional spats and disagreements, knowing that Crowley always comes back, but this? If Crowley knew that his Fall was Aziraphale's fault? Aziraphale thinks Crowley wouldn't come back from that and he'd never see him again.

In reality? Crowley either already knows this and has the whole time or suspects it or if he found it out, would forgive Aziraphale for it. If he knows, he already has. His counter-argument is, like, what were you supposed to do to save me, exactly, angel? You alone versus all the hierarchy of Heaven and God Herself? I'm *glad* you didn't do something stupid and get yourself tossed into a pit of boiling sulphur. You don't deserve that.

Thing is, though, because they've never had this conversation because they DO NOT TALK lol, Aziraphale thinks he *does* deserve that. But look at what's happened since he made the decision not to save Crowley from falling...

...nothing.

Nothing has happened to Aziraphale. He didn't fall for it himself. He didn't fall for betraying the angel he loved and he wonders every. single. day. why he didn't and the only thing he can come up with is that he must have done the right thing. *It must be* that Crowley did the bad thing and Aziraphale did the good one because Crowley was damned to Hell for all of eternity and Aziraphale is still an angel of Heaven, six thousand years later. It's not for Aziraphale to question God. Her will is ineffable. It's ineffable because he cannot begin to understand how any of this can possibly be just and that just keeps happening over and over and over and over throughout the years to come in every situation he and Crowley find themselves in, from Job to The Flood to Wee Morag and Elspeth to Arma-bloody-geddon, right?

Aziraphale begins to lose count of how many times he's gone up against God at this point. Gives away his flaming sword to Adam and Eve. Saves as many as he could during The Flood-- *with* Crowley. (You know they did.) Lies to Gabriel's face in the eyes of God to save Job and Sitis' children... and learning that Falling was political, really, in the process. Nothing happened to Aziraphale for Job's kids. He suffered no consequence for lying to Heaven and God because Crowley was willing to lie for him-- to protect him from Falling, where Aziraphale couldn't protect Crowley himself ages before-- and nothing happened. Falling, suddenly, didn't seem totally God-ordained it it could be tossed aside by something as simple as having a demon just choose not to toss you to Satan. Crowley didn't take him to Hell because he didn't feel like Aziraphale belonged there. It wound up all entirely within Crowley's control, which then made Aziraphale begin to question if God was even really behind the Fall of Lucifer and the Gang or if it wasn't just the thugs in charge of Heaven who decided to toss them out... thoughts he was terrified to think and didn't dare voice aloud, at least not then.

In another era, Aziraphale and Crowley stood there together to witness the torture and murder of Jesus Christ in the name of God, in a parallel to the Fall. What happened to Jesus? He was betrayed by his closest friend, then tortured and murdered by those in the government who thought he posed a threat to social order. Heaven as Pontius Pilate. Aziraphale as a kind of Judas, in Aziraphale's mind, anyway.

Jesus as Crowley.

Time goes on and he and The Demon Crowley form friendship in their own right, regardless of what Crowley might remember from before his Fall. They form their Arrangement off of that and Aziraphale learns even more that, often, no one is really paying attention to what they do. That no one seems to notice if Crowley performs an angelic miracle or if Aziraphale performs what has become termed a 'demonic miracle'... because, really, *they're the same*, though that's not something Aziraphale can fully admit. He cannot allow himself to believe that demons *are angels* because if there's nothing different between demons and angels than Aziraphale doesn't know anything at all.

Anything at all... He doesn't know what being an angel *is* and it's what he supposedly is so it means he doesn't know who or what he is, really.

He doesn't know what God wants or if he truly believes in Her.

He doesn't know what the purpose of all of this is-- why Crowley had to suffer, why demons in general have to, why the *humans* do. Why it all has to be destroyed eventually. To what end?

Aziraphale has the same questions Crowley does and sometimes, late at night, often a little drunk, he'll dare to ask them with Crowley, and every morning that he still wakes up and sobers up and finds himself still an angel when Crowley Fell for so much less than Aziraphale has ever thought or done, he wonders just *why?*

Why is he still an angel when he, really, is no different from Crowley? Why Crowley is damned? Punished for all of eternity for curiosity and innovation and imagination, while Aziraphale is still an angel, doomed to only have until the clock runs out on Armageddon before losing him for the rest of fucking *eternity* but, until then, stuck suffering watching him suffer while remaining an angel? Is being an angel at this point, really, his punishment for failing the apparently foul fiend he adores?

Does Aziraphale ever have any answers to these questions? Good God, no lol. He's six thousand years into this and he's in the same spot as Amnesiac!ArchangelFuckingGabriel in 2.01:

...would be okay if you could just be one near particular person?

Of course Aziraphale knows what this feels like. Of course. We know he does. And that's why he hasn't been able to make a real move in six thousand years-- because it's his fault, as far as he's concerned.

Crowley's damnation is his fault. Crowley cannot really love him, or couldn't if he knew. Not because he's a demon, though Aziraphale might have thought that at one point but he definitely was cured of it by events in 1941. The more time that goes by, the more Aziraphale knows that Crowley loves him-- that he's *in* love with him-- and the worse it all gets for Aziraphale because every day that he hasn't told Crowley that he didn't prevent him from Falling is another day within the last *six thousand years* of them falling in love and the betrayal seems to get worse and worse to Aziraphale. The time to have this conversation was on the wall in Eden and it still hasn't happened. Still, over time, he starts to realize that Crowley, if ever knew, would forgive him.

Because his Crowley has the kindest of hearts. He really does, and that wasn't taken from him when he Fell and Aziraphale finds every opportunity he can to delight in seeing that and making Crowley reveal it.

It goes against everything Aziraphale is supposed to believe.

Demons are not supposed to be good-- if they were, they wouldn't have Fallen. Yet, Aziraphale knows Crowley is. He never has truly believed that Crowley isn't-- even when he could have, at least at the start. He worried, maybe, that he had helped create a monster out of the most lovely being he'd ever known but Crowley just kept proving him wrong about that, time and time again. *Crowley* doesn't believe it about himself, really, because that's his own trauma from his Fall but Aziraphale believes it about him and that's often good enough for Crowley.

But, really, this is why they still haven't gotten together in six thousand years. This is why Aziraphale seems like he can never get beyond "I'm an angel and you're a demon", no matter what Crowley does or how he proves that there are shades of gray and also, that the entire system is bullshit. It is not that Aziraphale doesn't *know* that it's bullshit-- it's that if he admits that it is, if he stops believing in Heaven (even if he doesn't stop believing in God), then he's left with nothing but the crushing weight of guilt that he has for all the pain that Crowley has been through.

If he tells himself that Crowley Fell *for a reason* and that he (Aziraphale) was *right* to not interfere, to not try to thwart God, even if it would have likely failed, just on principle, to stand up for his friend... then Aziraphale doesn't have to deal with the fact that he made what he really considers to be a colossal mistake and that it has caused the continued pain and torture and eternal damnation of the being he considers his soulmate...

...which is why everytime that pain comes to the surface in something Crowley says or does, Aziraphale *cannot handle it at all whatsoever* and reverts to You'reADemonI'mAnAngel!Mode.

Example: Crowley's religious trauma on display in their bandstand argument:

Crowley owns this, even if he's still traumatized by it. He's saying it sarcastically, making a joke on a song Aziraphale probably barely knows, if he knows at all ("Unforgettable"-- Nat King Cole). Aziraphale *aches* at Crowley saying this-- because it reminds him that it's partially his own fault. And he can't. Do. Anything. About. It.

He's an all-powerful *angel* here but he can't change this for Crowley. He can't stop his suffering some six thousand years after his Fall. He's looking at sexy goth Crowley here and he's thinking about curly-haired, beaming, ball of light! Crowley and that they are *the same person* and Aziraphale *does* know that. He knows it and he loves him passionately and desperately and he is one of the most powerful beings ever in existence and he's standing there looking at the man-shaped-being he adores talking about how he still aches from the betrayal of his fellow angels and his mother God and *there is no way for Aziraphale to fix it* when he can mend broken bones and heal the sick and let their be light! all over the place. He can do proper magic and still, he cannot take away Crowley's pain.

This is Aziraphale's Hell. He didn't Fall but he's been in Hell anyway.

So when Crowley's religious trauma and pain comes out, usually in an argument like in the bandstand scene, Aziraphale does the only thing he thinks he *can* do, right? He's an angel. Still. Somehow. He's an angel and there must be some reason for that and an angel is not a demon-- an angel is a purer being, a healer-- and so he says "I forgive you". He doesn't mean it to be patronizing, even if it is. ("I am a *great deal* holier than thou," as he told Crowley at one point and that was the point, right?) He is trying to say "I am still of Heaven and if it's absolution you need, I can give it to you."

He is trying to say: You are not unforgivable to me.

The real lyric of the song Crowley parodies in the bandstand is what Aziraphale means, whether he knows that song or not...

Unforgettable/That's what you are...

*Crowley*, though, doesn't know about Aziraphale's inner turmoil because *heavy sigh* FFS TALK, YOU IDIOTS *breathes* lol, so *he* hears:

I still think I am better than you and you are Fallen, so you're not worthy of me. I can't love you, not the way you want. I love all beings because I'm an angel and I you know I'm in love with you but I can't *allow* myself to be because it goes against the nature of an angel and I've only done eleven thousand things that should have made me Fall over the years but letting myself be in love with you is the rubicon I won't cross, apparently...

Crowley knows by the time they're having the bandstand argument enough about Aziraphale's general religious trauma (not necessarily about how it pertains to Crowley's Fall but about it in general) to know that he spits out hateful garbage when he feels cornered and how to just call it bullshit and move on. ("I don't even like you."/"You doooo.") But he understandably walks away when Aziraphale pushes him away past a point he can handle-- and Aziraphale knows how to do that. He does it *intentionally.* The "I forgive you" is sadness because it's all he has to offer Crowley but he also knows it'll piss Crowley off enough to end the argument, so he says it intentionally to get Crowley to go away. In this scene (which parallels the end of S2 quite a bit, as many have noticed), Aziraphale is trying to deal with it all on his own, right?

He knows where the antichrist is. He's just not telling Crowley yet. He's trying to deal with it to keep him safe. He's doing it because he thinks he should-- that maybe, when it's something of this level of importance, that his job should be as an angel first, above his side with Crowley. (It's also worth mentioning here that Aziraphale is straight up terrified of Falling, not even just for being damned to Hell but because then, if he's no longer in Heaven, he has exactly zero power to even *try* to protect Crowley.) At the end of S2? With The Metatron?

Aziraphale does the same thing as with the antichrist for a time in S1, really.

The beginning of S2 shows us that Aziraphale has known that Heaven is North Korea since Before the Beginning so now marry that with its last scenes and see the arc that connects them-- Aziraphale does what he does out of guilt over what happened to Crowley to *protect* Crowley. He didn't want to do any of it without Crowley and when The Metatron finally offers that carrot, Aziraphale is suspicious as all hell (pardon the pun) and here we have this moment where part of him *wants* this to all be real, right?

Times change and sometimes, your parents who traumatized the living fuck out of you and didn't approve of your boyfriend, grow the hell up a bit and try to repent and mend fences. Maybe the trust is broken but maybe it can be healed and *as an angel*, Aziraphale is a being of goodness and hope and optimism. He's pure of heart, as Crowley put it to Nina. He *wants* that to be the case... but he also knows it likely is not.

Still... they can't run. There's nowhere that Heaven won't find them. It's no life for them-- no life for Crowley, in Aziraphale's mind, no matter how many times Crowley tries to get him to run away with him. "We can go off together!" begs Crowley, over and over, and Aziraphale's only really ever found that Crowley will only slither off if he's ticked off enough and only "I forgive you" ever really does that enough to work lol. He *means* I love you endlessly but you know this is impossible, you bloody maddening, gorgeous serpent! Will you stop reminding me of what we could have when it can never happen?! but that's not exactly how Crowley's taking it.

In the end, to Aziraphale, Aziraphale is an angel and Crowley is a demon and they are doomed to spend eternity apart and Aziraphale thinks he has no one to blame, really, but himself. If he had somehow saved Crowley six thousand years ago-- or had somehow been brave enough to stand up for him and Fallen alongside him-- they could have been together forever.

But he wasn't then and now The Metatron is here and it's time for Aziraphale to go back to Heaven and he knows, as he sits there drinking coffee with the being whose posse sent Crowley in a free fall into a pit of boiling sulphur, that Crowley will never, ever, ever, EVER go back to Heaven.

But he also knows that Heaven is here to collect Aziraphale and they are making it clear that there is no escape. There's nowhere to run. Everyday, it's been getting closer for six thousand years and going faster than a roller coaster for the last handful but a love like Beez and Gabe's will surely never come his and Crowley's way now.

It was always going to end like this. Nothing lasts forever. He told Crowley that, Before the Beginning. Six thousand years. That was all the time they had before the end of Earth, the place they'd come to call home. They found a way to borrow a few more years at the end of it since S1 and he got to dance with Crowley, their fingers brushing, and that is going to have to be enough because they're out of time.

The Metatron never needed say it directly but it was evident: they wanted Aziraphale to go to Heaven and they would say or do anything to get him up there and Aziraphale may have bought it for a moment but he's definitely figured out by the end of S2 that they need him up there not to become the Supreme Archangel but because his time as an angel is now over. The threat to Crowley is unspoken but omnipresent.

The Metatron makes it sound like he doesn't care if Crowley comes back up to Heaven with Aziraphale or not and he really doesn't and why would that be? Why would he be eager to have the two most troublesome beings in all of Heaven and Hell teaming up and getting in the way of his Second Coming plans, which he absolutely *knows* they won't support? Because they won't have jobs waiting for them up there. Crowley will not be restored to full angelic status.

They're going to kill them. Aziraphale knows it. He's known what Heaven is since Before the Beginning, even if he's been in denial about it for almost as long to try to assuage his own guilt over participating in it.

And it's a lot easier a goal for Heaven to accomplish if they separate them and just Aziraphale goes up to Heaven. If Aziraphale goes alone-- if he keeps Crowley from following-- then Crowley is not a threat to them if Aziraphale is gone.

They aren't as powerful apart.

Aziraphale knows that if Crowley comes to Heaven with him that they will kill him and Aziraphale thinks okay, this is it... this is my moment of redemption.

Six thousand years since Crowley Fell and I can finally make up for not saving him by saving him now.

I can go with The Metatron and let Heaven kill me and know that they will not threaten Crowley if they do because what they are threatened by is both of us together. One of us, alone, is less of a threat and the only problem here is that if I go... Crowley will follow me.

If I just go without telling him what The Metatron said and I don't come back right away, he'll go to Heaven, worried that something happened to me, and they'll kill him when he comes looking for me. He'll find out they've Book of Life'd me and do something stupid and my sacrifice to keep him safe will all be for nothing.

So what's our tortured angel to do?

Bandstand 2.0, right?

He's got to piss Crowley off enough that Crowley won't follow him.

He's got to piss Crowley off so much that Crowley *will never come back* and the worst part is that Aziraphale knows *exactly* how to do it.

He makes his own plans and if things get drastic enough, he'll blow up that damn halo, metaphorically-speaking this time. To save Crowley, he will break Crowley.

It's darkly romantic, really. He'll sacrifice himself for Crowley but to be sure that Crowley will be safe and not follow, he'll have to break his heart a bit first-- to further their misunderstandings in a season based on "I don't think your exactly is my exactly exactly"-level miscommunications.

So Aziraphale accepts The Metatron's offer and lets The Metatron think he completely believes that the offer is legit and maybe a part of him is still hoping that it is but he knows it's really not and that this is a suicide run. This is Aziraphale's Holy Water arc...

...and speaking of Holy Water... that arc from the perspective of this being Aziraphale's mentality... Crowley, tortured by Hell for what he did while with Aziraphale in 1827, then refusing to talk about it, showing up with a cane, sullen and depressed, asking Aziraphale for the one thing that would kill him and Aziraphale's unwillingness to understand that it wasn't completely suicide ideation on Crowley's part but as a way to *protect Aziraphale* and keep him safe. Crowley wanted what could kill a demon not to kill himself but to kill one that might come after Aziraphale. All Aziraphale could see, though, was Crowley's physical and emotional pain, that he could barely keep hidden in that era, and how Aziraphale couldn't make it better. All he could see was how he failed him and led him to this suffering. All he could see in a note begging for "holy water" was Crowley wanting a suicide pill, wanting to destroy himself, unable to take any more, in so much pain that he'd leave Aziraphale forever to make it stop. Aziraphale is blinded entirely by guilt and fails to see what Crowley is really saying, which was, ironically, the last time Crowley began to try to tell Aziraphale how he felt, which was:

I've been thinking-- what if it all goes wrong? (What if I lose you? I'm terrified of losing you. I love you. I wake up from nightmares of you being destroyed by the demons who just spent a couple of decades after 1827 not that long ago torturing me. I didn't know for sure if you were still alive during any of it.) We have a lot in common, you and me. (We're a team. A... group of the two of us.) What if it all goes pear-shaped? I need you to get me the magical demon-killing stuff so I have a weapon against *my own fellow fallen angels* that I can use in case they come after us. I would kill another demon and send every legion of Hell after me to protect you.

Aziraphale: I like pears.

(My God, they are so stupid. Please. I can't take any more lol.)

So, yeah... it's Aziraphale's turn for the holy water suicide run here only with an actual suicide run...

It takes the books in The Blitz for Aziraphale to really understand what Crowley was asking for and what he meant by asking for holy water and by 1967, he gives Crowley the holy water, in the one moment when *they actually talk*, as much as they can, about how much they love one another, that exists prior to the end of its parallel-- the end of S2.

So, yeah, Aziraphale "goes to tell his friend the good news" with a look on his face like he's marching to his death *because he is* and he knows it. His last moments with Crowley, in some of his last moments in existence, he already knows will be spent upsetting the man-shaped being he loves. He's got it all planned out. Not exactly the picnic of his dreams but it'll redeem him and save Crowley and that's all that matters to Aziraphale in this moment.

He will sound naive to the threat of Heaven and because Crowley doesn't remember pre-Fall, he won't remember how Aziraphale warned him against taking on the brass in Heaven so Crowley won't be suspicious, he'll be *frustrated*, like he was in the bandstand. He'll get angry. Aziraphale's goal is to get him to storm out-- but it has to be a really, really, bad relationship-ending storming out.

He can't come back after he drives The Bentley around the block like he did back in 2.01 and say "okay, fine, I'll help you" and Aziraphale knows that if he plays this right, he can make it so Crowley won't because helping Gabriel was one thing but asking Crowley to become an angel with him and pretending like they can go fix the broken system of Heaven is going to be Crowley's bridge too far. It's *the only thing* that Aziraphale believes is Crowley's bridge too far where Aziraphale is concerned and isn't that heartbreaking as hell? That Crowley loves him this much? And they never got to be together the way they wanted? That they were just beginning to get close to trying to figure that out?

That, hours ago, Aziraphale was asking him to dance and trying to ignore the signs of trouble around the corner, desperately wanting more time with him? That they are semi-immortal beings that always somehow seem to be out of time?

Truer words have never been spoken, Crowley. Little did you know, poor demon...

So Aziraphale goes into the bookshop and Crowley looks all worked up and wants to say something and some part of Aziraphale begins to hear warning alarms going off in his head because Crowley *never* looks like this-- is never this flustered, never this uncomfortable, never this nervous, never in a rush to say something-- and Aziraphale thinks no, can't be, we don't talk about this... even if, ironically, all of S2 shows that Aziraphale has been trying *for just that*. It was just a few hours ago that he was trying to Jane Austen a ball for them to use as a pretense to discuss their feelings because, in the height of ironies here, right?

Aziraphale was ready.

They'd had some time without Heaven and Hell breathing so much down their necks, even if the threat still loomed, and spent every day together and it was perfect and it was lovely and he knew Crowley would forgive him and Aziraphale was almost there, right, he was *almost* ready to tell him. He was almost ready to tell him he loved him and that it was him, all those millennia ago, who could have done something and didn't and he's so, so, so sorry and can Crowley ever forgive him? Is there any way that Crowley could ever forgive him after what he didn't say and didn't do when he should have? For all the times since that he's said things in anger when, really, he was madly in love and just full of his own issues to sort out? (Damn, Aziraphale, we're beginning to see your affinity for Austen heroes here...)

But he's out of time so there will be none of that now. Now is his karmic payback. Six thousand beautiful years with the being he loves and feels he doesn't deserve have led to Aziraphale's redemption being that he can sacrifice himself to save him. He can leave the world they love with Crowley and Crowley's *goodness* in it, as it should be. So when Crowley says he needs to say something, Aziraphale cannot-- CANNOT-- let him speak because he cannot bear it.

He suddenly fears that of course-- OF COURSE-- the one moment in all of these trillions of moments they've lived through where Crowley is about to directly say he loves him for the first time is the also the same fucking moment when Aziraphale has to destroy their relationship to save Crowley's life and Aziraphale will be dead after this and he cannot bear hearing what his life could have been. He can't hear Crowley say this right now or else he worries he might lose his nerve. He *wants* to hear it but if Crowley speaks first, Aziraphale might cave, he might be weak again like he was when Crowley Fell, he might fail him again, and he can't. Not after all this time. Not when he loves Crowley so much.

"What's that lovely human expression?! 'Hold that thought!'" he blurts out, in a callback to, of course, the moment Crowley saved him in 1941-- to that night where Aziraphale really realized for the first time that Crowley wasn't just capable of good or capable of being friendly towards him but that Crowley *loved* him and that he loved the Demon Crowley, whether or not he should. ("But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past," sings Frances McDormand as the Voice of God, from her apparent favorite film lol, "I must have done something good.")

Ah, yes. Played for suckers. Here is where it's important to note that in 1941, Aziraphale had no idea that Rose was really Greta and that he, in fact, was the one being played for a sucker. By the end of S2, though, it could be argued that he very much knows that The Metatron is Fraulein Greta Klauschmidt-- someone who presented herself as Captain Rose Montgomery, an agent of anti-fascist good, who approached Aziraphale in his bookshop and told him that he could be an agent of change, too. He could help save the world and stop the global rising tide of fascism represented by the Third Reich. He could even do so using his books. They plotted a sting together, in which he'd bring his books to a church and seem to give them to Nazis to give to the Fuhrer, only for agents to surround them and arrest the Nazis. Aziraphale, desperate to *do* good and to *be* good, falls for this-- he fails to see that Rose is really Greta, a Nazi agent who fools him into working for the enemy and getting him to help destroy the world in the process. Pretty obvious to see here that Greta is The Metatron in S2... but it's likely that Aziraphale knows it and is playing along because it's his turn to save Crowley, unlike what happened in 1941, when Crowley saves him and his books.

Crowley, in the bookshop back at the end of S2 in our present time, stops speaking at the "hold that thought", looking like he's about to be ill, and has to also be thinking of 1941 and the church now that Aziraphale has referenced it. Maybe, in some way, it's an unconscious effort on Aziraphale's part to convey to Crowley that this is a charade-- that he doesn't mean this, that it's an act-- but he really doesn't want Crowley to figure that out. It would defeat his goal. But he also doesn't want to hurt him because he loves him but this is the only way that Aziraphale can see to save him. So he starts gushing about his coffee with The Metatron, right? We all remember this pain lol.

Maybe I've misjudged him. (Aziraphale, we suspect you know that he tossed Crowley into hellfire and stole Gabriel's memories so honestly, the worst part of all of this is that you're so traumatized that Crowley is *buying* what you're saying here...) And guess what?! He wants me to be the new Supreme Archangel! And he said you can come! And you can be an angel again! It will be so fun! We can have a slumber party, Crowley, after days of doing good, and braid each other's hair!

Crowley is like jfc fml are you even serious right now? Which, of course, is what Aziraphale *was going for.* It's the "I don't even like you" and the "we're hereditary enemies" and the "I'm an angel, you're a demon" way of trying to intentionally push Crowley away but the new version of it because none of that flies with S2 Crowley-- most of it barely flew with him in S1-- because Crowley *knows.*

He knows that Aziraphale loves him. And he knows that Aziraphale knows him, which is to say he knows how to hurt him, and that's what this is but also Crowley just sees it as how much Heaven has hurt them both. How much they've hurt Aziraphale. Because just as Aziraphale looks at Crowley in the throes of his religious trauma-- "Unforgivable. It's what I am", etc.-- and wants to help and save and protect him, Crowley feels the same way in return when Aziraphale is like this. Frustrated, sure, but in just as much pain at how much pain Aziraphale is in and feels powerless to stop it but will do whatever he can to try to, yeah?

For Aziraphale, this is all going fairly well (it's miserable but in terms of goal, it's working) through "tell me you said no" but the problem is that Crowley is still pleading. He's still trying to work through it because they're an *us* now and also ironically of course this is when Crowley's been trying to do better with storming out lol so he's trying to couple-solve this. He's not just *leaving* like how Aziraphale had hoped. He had been trying to sell to Crowley that he could pick Heaven over Crowley and Crowley is just kinda... not believing it so much at first and, instead, is trying to approach it like a problem for the two of them to solve together, instead of as a decision that Aziraphale has made for his life that he's stating that Crowley can take or leave.

Which calls back to this scene in 2.01 at the start of this arc, when Crowley calls their life *his* life and Aziraphale counters with that he thought *they* had carved out a life for themselves *together* and Crowley answers: "so did I!" Because they haven't had a discussion about what they are, exactly, at that point, Crowley still cautiously calls *their* life *his* life, retaining a sense of autonomy, as if he's only making decisions for himself when, in reality, they are a couple who are trying to make a life together and have been doing so consciously since S1. Crowley calls that life "precious" and "peaceful" to Aziraphale-- beautiful, lovely things that they both treasure and want and find with one another-- but also "fragile". The threats to them still loom large in the background and they are still so afraid to go much further in their relationship because, in part, of those threats and how terrified they are of losing one another... which just makes the end of S2 even more brutal, really.

(*mantras* cottage in the south downs cottage in the south downs...)

So back in That Scene later in S2, Aziraphale is then just kind of stuck trying to figure out how to get Crowley to be so angry with him that he storms out and never comes back in the face of Crowley trying to very much not do that and then Crowley starts saying that he needs to say what he was going to say or he never will and Aziraphale *knows*, ok? He knows what Crowley needs to say. He just literally cannot believe this is going to happen right now. He honestly can't believe it's happening at all but right now?!

He knows before Crowley begins speaking. He probably knew when he told him to "hold that thought" a few moments before but he *really* knows now. Crowley has no idea that Aziraphale has planned for this to be the last time they ever see one another and to go sacrifice himself to Heaven for whatever they want to do with him to keep them away from Crowley. Crowley looks like he's about to pass out from nerves and can barely speak and just...

...six. thousand. years...

...I know we have all looked at the heartbreak of this scene from Crowley's POV here every which way to Sunday, okay, but just imagine you are Aziraphale, who has loved this being since before the literal beginning of time, and you blame yourself for his pain and suffering, and he's standing here, braver than you've ever been with him, looking into your eyes and telling you that he knows that you love him and that he loves you and he knows you both have known this for basically the entirety of your existence together and he can't pretend anymore. He doesn't want to pretend anymore. He knows things have changed over the last few years between you and he wants more of that. He wants to be with you.

The two of you are not even human, just human-adjacent beings who have gone native from the stars and clouds here, who live and love like humans, who know that maybe the angels and demons have it backwards and God's great creatures are the humans-- that it should be the good in them that you should be trying to emulate-- and Crowley had never been more beautifully, impossibly human than while he's standing there looking ready to pass out while asking you if, after six millennia, it might be alright for him to not hide how much he loves you.

How many times has Aziraphale imagined this by this point? A million? How many different ways? There's at least half of them when he imagines that he's the one who gets up the courage first but there are so. many. Crowley. fantasies. Ones in every time period. But always *a fantasy*, at least up until maybe very recently. Why?

Not even just Heaven and Hell and the threat of being caught but the fact that Aziraphale believes that Crowley doesn't know Aziraphale didn't save him during The Fall and how could he ever really love him if he knew? How could Aziraphale ever go to him like this and give Crowley everything he knows Crowley has desired for so long without telling him the truth about Aziraphale's role in Crowley's Fall-- but then, Aziraphale assumes, he'd lose Crowley forever? So this has always been a pipe dream for Aziraphale-- fantasies from a world where they ever stood a chance of being together-- never really something that could be reality and here it is, starting, happening *now*...

...after six. thousand. years. of living with this guilt and in the last moments in which he will ever see Crowley before he heads to his likely death, with no time to tell him the truth and beg for his forgiveness, no time to ever know what their lives might be like if they could be together.

As Crowley, unbeknownst to Aziraphale, mused dramatically, if not inaccurately, earlier in the season... it's always too late.

It's punishment, in Aziraphale's mind. That's what Crowley's proposal, his confession, is now. It's his Fall, whether he falls or not when he leaves the bookshop for Heaven. It's karmic retribution-- it's God, finally saying something, and what she's saying is:

Look at what you've done, Aziraphale...

Look at how he loves you.

He was never unforgivable.

You are.

Aziraphale might be erased from existence once he gets to Heaven and he knows that's a possibility but he basically is dying here. Crowley is killing him. Crowley has pointed that silver bullet gun straight at his head and fired but he's missed and the bullet isn't in Aziraphale's teeth, it's gone through him.

Crowley, here, tears in his eyes, asking for whatever time they have. An eternity? Impossible, unlikely. Angel and demon. One day, the war will begin again-- another war to end all wars, like all the ones they've fell more and more in love during throughout history-- but it might be the one where Heaven or Hell wins and they're doomed to spend eternity apart. Crowley has said before he thinks the real war is humanity versus Heaven and Hell and that sounds like he thinks there's a chance they could survive it but who knows? They don't know. They're immortal beings who live like humans and that's, of late, included a sense of mortality. They don't know how much time they have left and Crowley is asking for all of it. He is asking for whatever time they have left to be spent together, openly loving one another, and what he doesn't know is what Aziraphale knows:

That they're already out of time.

Crowley is proposing marriage unaware that Aziraphale is dying. It's always too late, Crowley had stated earlier but had hope that maybe it wasn't but it is. And Aziraphale?

Gah. Aziraphale...

He's never loved him more. He's never wanted him more. He wants to tell him that he wants that, too, that they can have it, that Crowley can have anything he wants, but it's not true. It's not true because they could run out the back door of the bookshop now and hop in the Bentley and end-of-Grease it up to Alpha Centauri and Heaven will still find them. Heaven and Hell will still be after them. Running away solves nothing and Crowley always, ultimately, anyway, comes back and this time-- this time-- for Crowley's own good, to save his life, Aziraphale needs him to leave the bookshop and never come back.

And the moment that Crowley confesses that he loves him and that he knows Aziraphale loves him in return and that they've both known this, forever, and asks him if he can be allowed to just love him, Aziraphale loves him so much in return that he'll break his heart to save him from dying.

Dying is... not on, as High!Crowley put it in 1827 lol, but suicide-ish attempts are, if it's Aziraphale's turn this time.

So he twists the knife. He hides the goats as pigeons and he looks at Crowley and does a bit of this:

...only with the exact opposite intent. In the Job minisode, Crowley cannot speak aloud his true intentions. (Something he can finally do in the S2 finale, when he declares his love for Aziraphale.) He cannot tell Aziraphale outrightly that he had zero desire whatosever to kill Job's kids and animals and doesn't plan on actually doing it and, in fact, is actively engaged in a bit of bait-and-switch to make it look like he's doing what he's supposed to be doing as mandated by Heaven! this time as well as Hell (a nice little extra bit of paralleling to the end of S2 and Aziraphale, there.) He wants Aziraphale to believe him enough to allow him to pull it off because saving the kids and the pets (and protecting Aziraphale from any harm that might come to him if he gets in the way of what Crowley's been asked to do) matters more to Crowley than Aziraphale believing him...

...and believing him here means believing *in* him. Believing that they are on the same side and it's their own side and they're in it together. Crowley has to lie to him here *and it works for a moment*. It's really important to note that *it works*. Aziraphale believes that Crowley can do this and that he wants to-- that he not only can but he *longs* (lol) to "kill the blameless kids of Job"-- but it's all in Crowley's wording. He isn't *actually* lying. He *does* long to kill the blameless kids of Job like how he killed the blameless goats of Job-- because he "killed the blameless goats of Job" by turning them into pigeons. So he's really saying to Aziraphale that he longs to *fake the deaths* of the blameless kids of Job and plans to in the same way that he did the goats. In that moment, though? It didn't matter if Crowley was lying or telling the truth. There was only one goal--

--to get Aziraphale to walk away.

To get Aziraphale to leave, for his own safety, and let Crowley handle this. Better that he misunderstand Crowley and be disappointed in him and think him a lost cause than to get himself into trouble. Crowley out here loving Aziraphale that much in the days of Bildad the Shuite. (This poor mfer. Six. Thousand. Years lol.)

So what caused Crowley's plan to save Aziraphale in the Job era to not work?

One of the pigeons bleated, right?

Aziraphale heard it and realized that Crowley hadn't been lying so much as he had been trying to protect Aziraphale from his plan of subterfuge against the Almighty and Satan. The difference is that there are no bleating pigeons in the S2 finale... there's just *a whole certain famous other kind of damn bird instead* and its *absence* from the scene is the big emotional gut punch moment. And we all know it but I'll gif it anyway since this is already a depressing meta (cottage in the south downs cottage in the south downs...)...

...and that *is* the point. Because unlike back in the Bildad the Shuite days, there is no bleating pigeon (at least, not yet) to make Crowley realize that all is not what it seems and that Aziraphale is trying to lie to him and get him to leave to protect him from Heaven.

As Aziraphale is like mortally wounded here by Crowley's confession of love and is so not going to recover from this, he's now got to not only get Crowley to leave feeling like Aziraphale rejected being their own team for Heaven, he has to now do it with all of it out in the open-- with Crowley having openly confessed love for him, with him having asked for them to be together. He's not just going to have to frustrate Crowley more than he ever has before and get him to leave more angry than he was before, he has to, instead, smash into little tiny bits the very beautiful, very passionate, beating heart of the being he has loved since he met him *making the stars* in the bloody sky here...

The only way to get Crowley to go now is to make Crowley think he's rejecting the idea of loving him. Aziraphale honestly can't even sell the idea that he *doesn't* love Crowley because Crowley won't believe it-- he knows Aziraphale does and he's said as much in his whole marriage proposal here. So it has to be that Crowley thinks Aziraphale chose Heaven over loving him. Chose being an angel. That he really meant all of those 'hereditary enemies' and 'you're a demon' moments and to sell that, he sells it.

(You're a dark horse, Mr. Fell, Nina said of him in 2.01... the same turn of phrase Crowley uses when surprised by the secret skills and narrative power of Jane Austen later on in the pub.)

Aziraphale does love himself a bit of theatre. A bit of a disappearing act. The West End, The West End...

...our Nefertiti-fooling fellow...

He sells it with:

Well, of course you said no, *you're* the bad guys...

Come with me... I'll run, it you can be *my second-in-command*...

We can be together. *Angels*. Doing *good*...

...oh, Crowley... nothing lasts forever...

For his final act, The Marvelous Mr. Fell will saw his ineffable husband's heart in half by spewing a litany of everything he can think of to say that will piss him off enough to make him leave the bookshop broken-hearted enough to never come back.

Only someone put a miracle blocker on here because, try as he might and good heavens (pardon the pun), Aziraphale is *trying* here...

...this turnip is not turning into a damn inkwell.

Crowley finally starts to go-- it's looking promising. Finally, Aziraphale thinks, this misery might end. Six thousand years of wanting to speak of all of this between them and hoping for some happiness when-- if-- it could maybe someday arrive, if it even could-- and it's the worst moment of Aziraphale's existence and he knows it is the same for Crowley.

Crowley stops and the "do you hear that?" And no, Aziraphale doesn't hear anything, he just has never been more upset and Crowley needs to just go because Aziraphale can't handle another moment of this, how could it possibly get worse?

Nightingales. Of course.

A call back to S1's "no more world-class composers/little restaurants where they know you/gravalax and dill sauce/old bookshops" but this time, it's "no nightingales". There's Armageddon coming that neither of them know about in this moment. It's still a 'someday, they'll try again' concept to them in this scene, not an extremely immediate threat, as Aziraphale doesn't learn about The Second Coming until after this. So the end of the world that Crowley references here is the end of *their* world and that means no nightingales. No romance. No *them*, together. Worth remembering that Crowley thought, up until maybe what? Five minutes ago? That they were headed to breakfast at the Ritz together. They should have been sitting there together *in this moment*, is what he's saying. Miracling the pianist to play "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square" and gazing at one another over teapots and mimosas and croissants.

That's gone, since you chose Heaven instead, is what Crowley states and Aziraphale knows it because, God help him (no, literally, GOD HELP HIM! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GO OFF TO THIS SEASON, FRANCES?!), it's what he's *trying* to make happen.

You idiot, says the once-Bildad the Shuite, who thought he was taking his beloved to the ox rib special this morning and not getting dumped for an old floating head and the cinematic world's most contentious to-go cup of coffee, we could have been... us.

Not really a part of the theory here, just the observation that Crowley's confession/proposal begins with him unable to say "a couple", in case this all goes pear-shaped and he needs to have never said something that romantic, so he says instead "a team", "a group-- of the two of us". He says it without saying it. But, by the end? He just says "us." He *present*-tenses it. He's like forget everything else, angel, we could have just kept on being us because we both know what we are. We don't need to find the right turn of phrase or even the most specific human word for it. We are just *us* and we could have kept on with that but you chose the mentality of your abusive family and asked me to be what I'm not and I still love you because I *know* you but I can't be with you like that and *you* know that.

And he kisses him. Because Franny McD says you ain't suffered enough yet, Aziraphale lol. Should I just gif it while we're miserable? If you've read this far, a month has passed and hopefully, you've taken breaks and I do apologize but I'm gonna gif it because yeah. Here we go, folks...

God, make it stop, pleads Aziraphale to literal God and here comes Crowley with the S1 wall slam parallel, all dammit, angel, I know you've wanted us to snog for centuries and this is our last chance.

I know people have opinions about this kiss and I know we're all posting them here, obviously myself included, but while I've seen a lot of like... 'Crowley knows it's the only time they ever will be able to because Aziraphale is leaving him for Heaven' and 'Crowley wants to remind Aziraphale what he's giving up and could have had' and 'Crowley tries the kiss to see if it'll change Aziraphale's mind' takes-- and I agree with all of those things and think they're all right-- I've not seen a lot of 'Crowley kisses Aziraphale *for Aziraphale*' and I think that's a big part of it, too.

Crowley really isn't stupid. Not when it comes to Aziraphale wanting him. It would be honestly hard to spend a zillion lifetimes on Earth and not get it after like...

And Crowley understands Aziraphale's particular brand of religious trauma more than most, since he has a variant version of it himself. He understands that where his whole thing is that he's very much *not* an angel anymore, that Aziraphale's identity is wrapped up in being one and the conflicts he has with Heaven and while Crowley is not yet quite hearing what Nina said-- that she just got out of an abusive relationship and that she's not yet ready to be with Maggie and needs time-- and marrying that to Aziraphale and Heaven (especially because Aziraphale is showing exactly zero signs of trying to get out of his relationship with Heaven lol), Crowley wants Aziraphale to have had what he (Aziraphale) wanted, even if it was for only a moment. He can't go with him. This is the *one* scenario where Crowley cannot follow where Aziraphale goes, where he can't come to him and rescue him, because Aziraphale has said he doesn't want him to. Aziraphale wants to go and do this and the only way he'll take Crowley is if Crowley wants to become an angel again, which Crowley will not do.

And damned if there isn't a part of Aziraphale that thinks that if The Metatron can really be trusted, wouldn't that be something? That if he gets up there to Heaven and he really is made Supreme Archangel and if Crowley changes his mind, if he comes back, like he always does... if he storms out and leaves but then misses him too much and takes the elevator up... then maybe Aziraphale could make him an angel again and while Crowley hears in Aziraphale offering that you aren't good enough as a demon-- you're not good, period and even if he doesn't totally believe that Aziraphale really thinks that but knows Aziraphale has enough religious conflict that it's a problem for their relationship, what Aziraphale *really* means is... I could fix it.

I could go back and un-Fall you. I could take away your pain. I could stop your suffering. I'd have the *power* to do it when I don't right now and it kills me, every day. I could right the wrong I did, the sin I committed-- the real Original Sin-- six thousand years ago when I betrayed you, when Heaven betrayed you.

I could do right by you, the way She never did.

I am going to Heaven to either have the power to do that or to be obliterated into non-existence and I don't totally know which, though surviving is not looking promising, but all I know is that it's too dangerous for you to follow me right now until I do know so I'd rather hurt you than see you dead.

You want to be with me and I am afraid it will lead to your destruction so I need to say anything to put the breaks on your attempt and make you back off. To a lesser extent, I've done it before. Can do again.

Only this time, no hope of the possible, future picnic, I'm afraid...

It really is the worst possible Aziraphale nightmare here like... everything he's ever wanted. Six millennia of wanting to pull Crowley close and he has to reject him or Crowley could die. Fanfic season here said Coffee Shop AU and also a reverse-Fuck or Die for the ages. People complaining that it's awkward? YES. It's supposed to be. Crowley has no idea that Aziraphale is facing a round of sudden death here and was just hoping for his one fabulous kiss and vavoom. Even if it didn't change anything-- he wanted *Aziraphale* to feel that. To know how much he's wanted this for so long and to have it, even if they can't again. The intent is terribly romantic, as is Aziraphale flailing in the middle of it and giving in because he is made of strong, halo-exploding stuff here but he's wanted this forever. He goes up on his toes, he leans in, his hands flail around and he touches Crowley's back. He *shouldn't* do any of this if he's trying to meet his goal of getting Crowley to leave because it gave Crowley hope. It might have even been what motivated Crowley to stay outside and not go right away, or at least a part of it. But Aziraphale had to because he loves him and he couldn't help it.

Then, *sob*, The Michael Sheen eviscerating all of us here...

For anyone who might still be saying that is an "I didn't want his kiss" face... hard, HARD, VERY HARD disagree. That is "I didn't want *this* kiss, like this, right now." That is a man-shaped being who was just kissed by the love of his life for what may have been the first time but, at minimum, is for what he believes will be the *last* time. (I'm still out here holding out some hope for Blitz, Part 3-- a nice first kiss after they kill some Zombie Nazis with Chekhov's derringer in the bookshop but I digress...somehow, even if this entire long meta is one long digression, I digress lol...)

It's the face of a man gutted by the fact that this, in his wildest dreams, was not supposed to happen like this and he's been alive for damn ever at this point so he's had *all* the wildest dreams. And a lot of them, let's be real, have centered around Crowley doing just this. Exactly this. Crowley ain't wrong with the 'grabbing him by the collar and kissing him senseless in the middle of the bookshop' thing. He's wanted to do it for centuries. And the middle of the bookshop bit? That's important, too. This is their home. It's *their* home, even if Crowley is technically homeless. It's safe for him in here and Aziraphale has made it so. It's where they've spent thousands of hours together, happy and safe in each other's company, and here they are, bouille-bouile-bouile-baby-ing finally and it's a complete and utter, unmitigated trash truck dumpster fire.

Honestly, this was a better kiss than in S2 lol. S1 laying down though how long they've been dreaming about it (and having Crowley start listing animals that are in Aziraphale's nonsense magic spell, like he flashes back to 1941 when thinking about the end of the world and kissing Aziraphale in the bookshop... so you can see why I'm moderately hopeful that maybe they did kiss then, once, before then trying to never again until Crowley kisses Aziraphale in 2.06.)

I'm going to bring this back around now to the comparison I made above with Crowley and Jesus and talk about how 2.06's end scenes are also like the last temptation of Christ. Good Omens makes it pretty clear that Aziraphale is the tempter, really, of the two of them, in their relationship. Crowley can't say no to him and Aziraphale has learned it and loves to puppy eyes Crowley into anything he wants.

Crowley knows it and is fine with it. He's smitten and happy to be wrapped around Aziraphale's finger. Crowley has tempted Aziraphale and we see that in S2 with the ox rib. He is, himself, just by existing, tempting to Aziraphale. But in terms of temptation carrying with it a bit of manipulation and *that* kind of tempting being what's demonic in nature? Then Aziraphale is, and always has been, the demon of the two of them. This is true into the end of S2, as while there is almost nothing that Crowley would deny Aziraphale, there is really only one thing and that's to change who he is for him. To become an angel again, to work for Heaven again, after what they've done to him and Aziraphale. So the end of S2 is then Aziraphale's temptation-- it's a test, of sorts, for Crowley, even if Aziraphale doesn't intend for it to be. Crowley resists the temptation. Even for Aziraphale, he won't follow the path of darkness for himself and become something he's not. Crowley-Jesus. (Aziraphale-Satan S3 incoming lol.)

And if you've been reading all of this right then you know what happens next and what it means from the POV of this guilt-ridden Aziraphale...

I honestly don't think Aziraphale is really that angry *with Crowley* at this point-- I think he's just angry. He's reached his limit and then some. He has a lot of simmering, under the surface rage on a good day that only bubbles over when he's stressed by a situation he can't control and here is the ultimate one, really. He's a little mad at Crowley because they've waited countless years for that and in an argument, while ironically probably kind of perfect for them, is not really how *either* of them wanted it to be... but, mostly, Aziraphale is just angry that he can't have any of those moments at all. That they're out of time. That they had all this time and they never really could be safely together and that he's been haunted for six thousand years of the image of his fluffy cloud of redheaded sunshine, bloodied and stricken, and then tossed to Hell while Aziraphale was powerless to stop it. He's never seen those eyes since and he loves the snake ones. He loves all of Crowley with all he has but he's never been allowed to *have* him and never felt safe enough to try and now it's all over. And he still has to make Crowley fucking leave this bookshop for his plan of self-sacrifice to fucking work here so...

...I forgive you. It's the worst thing he can think of. The thing Crowley always hates. The thing that he knows makes Crowley feel lesser and demonic, even if Aziraphale has always, always meant it as an I love you. He even spits it out to Crowley with an almost self-deprecating, referential tone to it-- like "here we go again-- you say you love me and I say 'I forgive you' because I can't say anything else, can I?" The anger is laced underneath it and all the pain but he's intentionally referencing how this this the thing he says whenever Crowley says they can be their own side. He's trying to claim that nothing has changed in all of these years, when they both know that everything has changed since S1 and the bandstand. That's what makes it hurt both of them even more. Aziraphale chooses to say "I forgive you" because he knows that Crowley has never heard it for how Aziraphale means it and Aziraphale is a little bitter about it and lets it show in the moment, since Aziraphale's I forgive you always really means...

I can't stand to see you in pain and if there's any power in me as an angel to stop it, then I will do that so I forgive you and may that make it easier, may that make it all okay, even though I know it won't.

And just before saying I forgive you, Aziraphale's mouth works and he almost-- almost-- says I love you instead... what Crowley would really give anything to hear.

You can see the 'l' forming there, the beginning of "love", what he *really* wanted to say... what Crowley himself didn't even actually explicitly say. Crowley said it without saying it. He called them a couple without saying that word, asked for eternity without fully asking for it, said he loved him by acknowledging that they had both been pretending, but Crowley was terrified and so he said the things in a way that made it obvious what he was saying and asking for but, so unused to not speaking in code are they, that Crowley didn't say he loved Aziraphale, not directly. He did say it. He just didn't say it in those words.

And for a second, Aziraphale almost does.

He can't stand that he's breaking Crowley's heart. He can't stand that Crowley has kissed him and Aziraphale only briefly kissed him back, only barely touched him, when he really wanted to go at him like an ox rib and never let him go, and he starts to say the truth because no part of him really *wants* to be lying like this to Crowley. But he stops. And not even just because he needs Crowley to leave the shop to save his life but because, in the last four minutes, Crowley has confessed love and proposed and they've kissed and Aziraphale, pretty sure he actually died somewhere in the middle there and he's now stuck somewhere in one of Dante's worst circles of Hell lol, just cannot *also* have this be the moment where he says "I love you" to Crowley.

It's not even false hope that maybe they'll somehow have more time. With Heaven breathing down his neck in the form of The Metatron, Aziraphale has no real hope of that. He just always dreamed of telling him and not like this. He doesn't want Crowley to hear it like this, either, not as a part of a rejection. The anger, instead, surfaces, because why can't he and Crowley just *have* this?! How the hell did Gabriel and Beezlebub get to fuck off to Alpha Centauri after dating for ten minutes when he and Crowley have spent bloody eons in queer pining hell over here? What did they ever do that was so wrong to deserve this? Why was Crowley asking questions so terrible? Why have they had to spend thousands of years pretending not to love each other as if love-- the epitome of the angelic-- was unholy? Why, Aziraphale is wondering, now that they are out of time, did he ever spend so many years terrified when, in the end, it all ended tragically anyway?

How many of those years could Aziraphale have spent loving Crowley the way they ought to have been able to have and denied themselves of for so long?

And then Crowley finally does it. Tells him "don't bother" about the forgiveness-- about the love, as Aziraphale has always meant it-- and he leaves. It worked. The anger and pain and saying "I forgive you" after that kiss... it worked. And Crowley leaves and Aziraphale, alone, is a complete mess of broken and furious and broken some more.

Crowley, as we know, doesn't get to see this moment. Muriel does! Great for fic! Hilarious by show standards that the new angel who is literally being ordered to take over Aziraphale's home against his will is who witnesses the aftermath of the intimate moment our angel has been craving, oh, just since before the dawn of humanity over here.

He touches his lips, his hand trembles... have you all noticed that Aziraphale is literally fucking *tasting and eating* what of himself Crowley left in his mouth here? He's pulling every bit of Crowley to his tongue from his teeth and *swallowing*, like he knows it's all of him he'll ever again be able to consume, like he's committing how he tastes to memory for the last like, who knows, ten? fifteen? twenty minutes? of his own existence that he knows he probably has left...

Jesus fucking Christ, Michael Sheen...

This is all without yet mentioning the single most under-analyzed line in S2 that calls into question a ton of stuff, which is this beauty from Shax, right off the top of 2.01:

"Beezlebub's put some of the lesser demons on half-rations."

What does this have to do with Aziraphale consuming Crowley's kiss like it's the most scrumptious thing he's ever tasted (because it is) and being furious that it'll be their last?

Because that Shax line casually confirms that demons eat. Do they eat human food or some sort of demon food or both? Who knows, really, but they're *supposed* to eat. Ok, but is it just a demon thing? No, because it ties to Crowley's comments in S1 about how he complained that the food wasn't really that good lately when hanging out with Lucifer and The Gang, which then implies that, at least back then, *angels* ate, too. Eating was a normal thing. Over time, though, we know that the higher angels have come to see eating as human and pedestrian and not something befitting of an angel. Some demons eat-- even Crowley eats, if less than and differently than Aziraphale-- but the angels think it's beneath them and if we have confirmation via Shax in S2 that they are supposed to be eating and basically only don't die because they're immortal beings and not human, even if they have human corporations, then the show is saying that all of these angels are fucking starving themselves.

They're doing what they're told and denying their own nature and their own needs in the process.

S2 also shows that with the ox rib, right?

Aziraphale went *at* that thing. He'd never eaten at all in a couple thousand years after being told it was un-angelic and so when he tasted food for the first time, he went so overboard that he's been Mr. Prim and Proper with his napkins and table etiquette ever since out of embarrassment over Crowley watching him food orgasm once-- and that's the metaphor there, as we've all figured out. Our show that has a sex worker named Mrs. Sandwich is all about its ongoing food-as-sex metaphor. S2 even opens with the hilarious turnabout from S1 as a "thank you for my pornography", "why do you consume *that*?" Gabriel shows up at the bookshop-- naked-- and has a food orgasm trying hot chocolate for the first time.

Gabe, babe, Aziraphale does not need the play-by-play here....

Mah point is... mah point is that Tumblr is maxing me at 30 images per post and so you'll just have to picture Crowley slurring "dolphins" while I get to my actual point here...

Mah point is while this is a whole separate analysis almost and one that many of you have already done in different ways re: food & sex on the show, my point here is that starving yourself of food in Good Omens is analogous to being touch-starved or love-deprived and before someone yells at me about how angelic beings don't necessarily need sex or are by nature not into sex unless they make an Effort, I agree with you and Neil Gaiman. I'm just also saying the show is suggesting that they all have human corporations and that many of those human corporations are not sex-averse so for those of them that are not, they're literally out here touch-starved and/or sex-starved here in different ways. But, you say, maybe Crowley is hungry (goodness knows, Crowley *is hungry* lol) but Aziraphale eats all the time!

Yeah. Aziraphale eats *food*, all the time. But he isn't touched all the time. He doesn't have sex all the time. He isn't kissed all the time. The 2.06 scene shows him *physically* making that metaphor of food and sex real for us-- we watch him *consume* what remains of Crowley's kiss--showing that he's desperate for it and deprived of it. He's starved for it, to a point of trembling hands and rolling every bit of Crowley's lingering taste around his mouth like he's taking on every last bite of the best crepe he could ever imagine in all his days...

...and then being, understandably, full of rage that this is the only time he's going to ever have Crowley-- and all he's ever going to have of him, when Crowley just offered all of himself-- forever.

And then The Metatron comes back and is Aziraphale ready to go to his death now? And, Friends, Aziraphale...

...is absolutely not.

He's turned away from the door, barely containing tears. When the door opened and he turned, he half-hoped it'd be Crowley but it was grr That Bastard instead. He looks out the window and Crowley is still out there...

...he left but he didn't really *leave*... and it somehow then still isn't over and will someone please just take Aziraphale out back and angel-shoot him? He can't take any more of this.

What about the shop? he asks, in a moment of desperation and terror over what's to come and some blind, stupid hope that he can somehow get out of all of this with him and Crowley still alive and The Metatron, who anticipated this, tells him Muriel lives here now. Aziraphale looks around the home he's made for him and Crowley for the last 223 years and his favorite books and possessions. Crowley's hat from 1941 is on the hat stand, the horse statue is where Crowley put his glasses back when he trusted him, back when he let Aziraphale see his pretty yellow eyes whenever Aziraphale wanted in recent years... before he just put his glasses back on now and closed himself off again.

Aziraphale is never going to see those eyes he loves again. He didn't even get to kiss Crowley without the sunglasses on before it was all over.

Even Gabriel had something to take up to Heaven with him to remind him of the demon he loved but Aziraphale goes to Heaven and to his death empty-handed because he pushed Crowley away to save him from all of this and, in the final push, he looks at Crowley standing there by The Bentley, all that secretly optimistic, beautiful, romantic hope about him still in him from the angel Aziraphale first met, all the awareness there of Aziraphale-- the only being who really knows him-- and so he's still waiting, still hoping. It goes back a few hours to the ball.

I'll be back. I won't leave you on your own.

But it's Aziraphale's call now and he gets into the elevator. The Metatron wins because Aziraphale's love for Crowley wins. He'll die before he lets anything happen to him, even if he wants to run to that car and to him but where would they run *to*? There's no place to go. Crowley has always been wrong about that. They can't go off together. There's no place safe from Heaven for them.

So Aziraphale gets into the elevator at The Dirty Donkey, leaving Crowley alone in the street once again, just with less hope this time than in 1967.

So Aziraphale leaves the bookshop this time, instead of going into it like he did in S1, when he left Crowley in the street, standing beside The Bentley, while clutching a different book this time-- Agnes Nutter's prophecies in his hand versus The Book of Life and its threatened erasure hanging over Aziraphale like the specter that it is. What was predicted about the future versus erasure from the past and all time. Nothing to see here, Crowley! Everything is as it's seems.

Everything is tickety-boo!

Tickety-boo?

Yes, which is also what Aziraphale-as-Crowley said... when he was kidnapped by Heaven and Hell in S1, remember? When he was taken from Earth to be sentenced to death... along *with* Crowley.

This time, Aziraphale is shutting Crowley out again. Telling him 'mind how you go' again, this time a bit more, uh, emphatically lol. And on their heels, again, the end of the world. Arma-bloody-geddon 2.0: The Second Coming.

Aziraphale heard The Metatron saying that was the plan-- as, of course, our villain walked away and meant for it not to be totally heard, further implying that they have no plans to really make Aziraphale the Supreme Archangel and that this is all a remix of Fraulein Greta Klauschmidt. That then makes this all somehow *even worse*... because now Aziraphale gets in the elevator to ride up to his death to save Crowley but now he knows that it was all for nothing.

War is coming. The planet they love will be destroyed. Crowley, if he knows him well enough, will likely die trying to save it. When he does, he'll still be damned to Hell for all of eternity while Aziraphale thinks he likely won't exist at all once he makes it upstairs and Michael finally gets to Book of Life him. Let the other angels think he's been played for a sucker. Better they think him a fool than that they come for Crowley.

He doesn't want to Fall and doesn't wish for it. If they take his memories as punishment, and they almost certainly will, he won't remember any of the moments he spent with Crowley and even if they could have eternity together in Hell if the world is destroyed, he wouldn't wish Crowley the pain of being around him when he didn't remember anything.

Aziraphale only finding out about The Second Coming in the moment before he gets on the elevator-- *after* everything happens with Crowley-- is a million times worse because now Aziraphale is riding to his death knowing that everything they've done in six thousand years doesn't matter and that the events of S1 didn't matter because all it did was delay the inevitable end of the world and everything Aziraphale loves is about to be destroyed.

That, apparently, was God's ineffable, Great Plan.

All of that is what is on Aziraphale's face on the ride up to Heaven in the final splitscreen.

In that splitscreen, Crowley, for what it's worth, is visually echoing the driving back from Tadfield bit that leads to the "tickety-boo" moment of Aziraphale lying to him by omission. He looks close to a parallel to the S1 moment where he suddenly yelled:

"DUCKS!"

They're what water slides off of. In this context? They were also the thing itching at the back of Crowley's mind-- the not quite right thing, the puzzle he couldn't quite figure out, the question he coudln't yet quite answer... until he could. That's positive, actually. It means there might be something for him to realize, even if that realization might come too late in the short term. (They will solve everything and be fine, memory-intact, immortal beings in love who go off together by the end of it. This is all just until then.)

Ducks are also, sort of, the be all and end all of Good Omens. Crowley knows how to take care of them, after all, when others do not. You feed them frozen peas-- they are good for them and they love them, too. (Don't feed him coffee, you Metatron idiot! He only ever drank one mug of it in S1 and it led to the *points above* see: tickety-boo Aziraphale lying to Crowley paralleling sequence of scenes.) [The "do you have one, single, better idea?" scene is Aziraphale drinking coffee, for reference.]

So, yeah, by comparison here... Aziraphale, you are a duck lol. You have been fed bread by idiots for far too long when, really, you need to be eating frozen peas. Crowley knows this and he knows how to take care of you. With any luck, he's about to have his duck-moment-paralleling epiphany any moment now, though I fear you're already going to be memory-wiped and fallen to Hell when he does. That's okay, though, because this is the main scene that still needs a go-around in paralleling and we know Crowley knows where the dungeons are down there from unfortunate, personal experience.

Cottage in the south downs, cottage in the south downs, cottage in the south downs, cottage....

Notes: Hi! If you have made it all the way here, thank you for reading. I hope it was worth the read for you. You all write such great stuff that I felt inspired to put my lit and film studies and psych background to use and jump in a bit. Thanks for indulging me. I also wish to note that there is a gif above that is by @fuckyeahgoodomens but for some reason, the credit was not working properly so I just wanted to make sure you knew who was providing us the visual joy.

[roosterforme]

The Wingman | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more!

"I need your help," Jake said, forcefully removing the cup of peanuts from Bob's hand. "Right now. Come on."

"With what?" Bob asked quietly as Jake hauled him to his feet and started pushing him away from the pool table and toward the bar. Bob wiped peanut shells from his uniform as he went, perplexed about what was going on.

"See those two girls?" Jake asked, pointing to the end of the bar. "Kinda cute, right?"

Bob's jaw dropped open. Kinda cute didn't quite cover it. Gorgeous was more like it. He swallowed the last peanut he was chewing on and murmured, "Yeah. Very cute."

"Great. The one on the right has a perfect looking rack, and she seems kind of mean. She's for me. You can have the one on the left. She's sweet. Not my type," Jake said as they drew closer.

Bob was practically stumbling along now. "But why do you need me?"

"You're going to be my wingman."

"But.... we aren't flying?" Bob asked, so perplexed.

Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Focus, Floyd. It means you can hang out with the friend for a bit so I can get laid. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Bob muttered, and then he was being thrust up right next to where you were standing. He had to catch the wall so he didn't slam into you, and then you looked up at him slowly as you released your straw from your lips and smiled.

"Hi." Your voice was breathy and soft, the perfect juxtaposition to the noisy bar. And you looked even more beautiful up close, something Bob would have thought impossible. "Are you Jake's friend?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, swallowing hard as your bright smile took his breath away. "I'm Bob," he managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

And then you gave him your name, and something told him he was going to remember it for the rest of his life. "It's nice to meet you, Bobby."

He nodded, heart thudding. "Nice to meet you, too." 

You called him Bobby, and he liked the way it sounded on your lips. But nothing compared to what you said next. 

"I noticed you before," you said, looking down at your drink, suddenly shy. "Last weekend when we were here. And the weekend before that. I can't believe you're talking to me."

You had noticed him before? Bob couldn't formulate real words. You were surprised he was talking to you? But you were so far out of his league, it was ridiculous! He just watched your straw brushing against your lips as your gaze slowly moved up his chest and neck until your eyes met his again. You were just so pretty.

You cleared your throat and pressed your lips together. "Of course, if you don't feel like talking to me, you don't have to." And you quickly turned to face the bar, taking a few steps away from him. That's when Bob realized he'd been staring at you instead of talking to you at all. 

"No, no, I do want to talk to you," he said, wondering if it was okay to touch you and decided to go for it as he reached out to let his fingers brush your arm. He said your name and you turned to look at him again, but you didn't come any closer. "Sorry, I-I just got distracted by how pretty you are."

You laughed, and that smile was back now. "You know, that usually sounds like a line when a guy says it, but for some reason I believe you, Bobby. I even told my friend Alli that you looked handsome and sweet at the same time." You gestured toward your friend who had her lips glued to Jake's, but Bob barely glanced in their direction.

"Nobody really calls me Bobby, but I like it when you do."

When you closed the distance between your bodies and ran your fingers along his collection of insignia pins, Bob let his left hand rest lightly on your waist, and you didn't stop him. He couldn't believe you were letting him touch you. 

"What do you do in the navy?" you asked, meeting his eyes before examining his pins a little closer. 

"I'm an aviator," he replied. 

"You fly a jet?" you asked, eyes wide now. And this was what Bob hated more than anything; having to explain to someone that he was just a backseater. 

"No, I'm a weapons systems officer, actually."

"Oh! So you're in charge of a pilot! Do you fly with Jake?"

Bob smiled at your simple and yet surprisingly accurate description of what a WSO did. "No, I fly with her," he replied, pointing across the bar where Phoenix was gaping at him with a pool cue in her hand. 

You turned to look before turning back to him and saying, "That's so fascinating, Bobby."

"What do you do?" he asked, wrapping his hand a little further around your back and nearly gasping as he felt the swell of your butt. He let go of you like he'd been burned, but you reached for his hand and placed it right where it had been. 

"I'm a kindergarten teacher."

Bob's mouth went dry. Phoenix told him all the time that he was destined to marry a sweet, pretty kindergarten teacher and have six kids and a golden retriever. 

"Do you like kids, Bobby?" you asked, your fingers back on his pins. 

"Yeah... six of them," he murmured. 

"Hmm?"

"Oh. Nothing," he told you. "Yes, I like kids. Sometimes I volunteer to read at the library when they need military personnel for story time. Hey, how do you feel about golden retrievers?

"Your lips parted slightly as you looked at him, and Bob could feel his cheeks flushing with color as you leaned up. The way your eyes fluttered closed should have been enough warning for him, but nobody had ever done this to him before in the middle of the Hard Deck. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of girls he had ever kissed at all, anywhere.

But the soft touch of your lips to his was enough to have his right hand wrapping around you as well. And then everything felt perfect as he touched you while you kissed him. 

The kiss didn't last long, but you kept your body pressed right up to his while you assured him that golden retrievers were your very favorite type of dog. Then you told Bob about your classroom and your school and the kids in your class. You told him how much you liked when they played movies in the park by your apartment. You told him that you always went with some of your friends to the food truck festivals. And you told him how much you liked his glasses. 

"You really like them?" Nobody liked his glasses. Women frequently asked him if he ever wore contacts. He supposed that would make him a bit better looking, but he hated poking at his eyes when he needed to use them for work.

"Like is an understatement," you assured him with a smile. "You're so cute. Can I kiss you again?"

Bob nodded helplessly, already kind of pathetically in need of your attention. This kiss was a little more forceful, and Bob could feel your tongue touching his.

And then Alli threw her drink on Jake, and you gasped, backing out of Bob's arms. "Maybe I should go check on her," you said as your friend stormed toward the exit. But you didn't move. 

"Well, Bob, your wingman duty is no longer needed," Jake drawled, wiping what appeared to be rum and coke from his face before he wandered away.

You groaned and tipped your head back before you met Bob's eyes. "Jake made you come over and talk to me, didn't he?"

You looked completely distraught, and Bob thought he might die if you left right now. He didn't even have your number, and he hadn't asked you out on a date yet. "Don't go," he begged, reaching for you as you set your empty glass on the bar. "Please. It took literally no persuading on Jake's part to get me to come over here. And you're so pretty, I would have been too scared to ever come over on my own."

You looked at him for a beat. "You seem sincere. Are you being sincere?"

"Of course," he swore, panicking inside. "I don't want you to leave. I'm hoping you'll give me your number and let me take you out tomorrow."

To Bob's relief, you pulled him over to the one empty bar stool and pushed him down to sit. Then you were on his lap, perched on his thigh, and he was handing you his phone. You saved your name and phone number and texted yourself so you could have his number too. "Where are you taking me tomorrow, Bobby?" you asked him.

"Anywhere you want," he promised. And you ran your fingers through his hair, teasing them along the back of his neck as you kissed him again. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you a little closer. Then he felt you reach for his other hand, guiding it to your bare knees where his fingers skimmed the hem of your dress. 

You were good at this. You knew what you were doing. But Bob wasn't good at romance, and he didn't have a lot of experience. But he knew he was already addicted to your kisses. And he should have understood what you meant as soon as you said it, but he really didn't.

"You could take me out for breakfast," you whispered as you kissed your way along his jaw and tasted his neck.

"Okay," he muttered. "I'd love to pick you up tomorrow morning. For breakfast."

He was just thankful you didn't laugh at him when you pulled back. Instead you were biting your lip and toying with his pins again as you said, "Or you could stay over. And then you wouldn't have to come pick me up. Because you'd already be there."

Bob knew he was hard in his khaki uniform pants, and the way your thigh was nudging him wasn't helping him process the fact that you just invited him to spend the night with you. He didn't know if he could do this. He'd never done this sort of thing before. 

You were looking at him expectantly and a little apprehensively. He kissed you softly. "I don't usually go home with girls from the bar. I actually don't even usually talk to girls when I'm here. Or...anywhere, really." His face was flushed, collar too tight. He was uncomfortable now as you appraised him with your wide eyes.

"How is that possible? You're so smooth." Now Bob was the one with big eyes as you added, "I've never taken a guy home from the bar before, but you make me feel comfortable. And I think you're sweet. And I'm pretty sure we're going to date."

Bob nodded, so sure of it. "Yeah, we're going to date. And get a golden retriever." 

Your smile right before you kissed the tip of his nose made him squeeze you tighter. "Then let's go," you whispered, wiggling out of his arms to stand up. Bob had to try to discreetly adjust himself as you dug into your purse, but he managed to get his wallet out in time to pay for your drink before you could. "Thanks, Bobby," you muttered, taking his hand in yours. 

Bob watched the identical looks of shock on Jake's and Nat's faces as you looked up at him and lured him toward the door. He was going back to your place. He was going to take you out for breakfast. He was so excited. And so nervous.

As he helped you climb in his pick-up truck, you leaned down and kissed him softly, and he just knew you would never make fun of him for anything. Bob closed the door and walked around the truck, checking his phone which had been vibrating nonstop.

Hangman: I told you she was sweet.

Nat Trace: OMG BOB, have a great night! Text me tomorrow! 

He climbed into the truck only to find that you had buckled yourself into the center of the bench seat right next to him. "Hi," you said with a laugh, and then you let your palm come to rest on his thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

"Where do you live?" he asked softly, and you gave him directions while you touched him so gently that Bob felt some of his nervousness receding. He parked in front of your building, and you led him inside. 

The elevator ride was filled with sweet kisses as you draped your arms around his neck. Either you could tell that he was out of his element and were being extra nice about it, or this was how you always liked to do things. Either way, he really, really liked it. Even the swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as the elevator arrived at your floor wasn't too much for him now. When he nibbled gently on your lip, you moaned softly, and he pushed you back against the wall. 

"Let's go," you panted, pulling him toward your door. Bob kissed the side of your neck as you fiddled with your key, but once you had him inside, things started going a little too fast for him. 

You closed and locked the door, and then your fingers were on the zipper of his uniform pants, and your tongue was in his mouth. Bob let you slip your hand inside the waistband of his underwear, and then your hand was stroking him, and he was seeing stars behind his eyelids. It felt so good. He'd been touched like this before, but it had been months, and it had been with someone he was dating. 

He liked you a lot, and he didn't want you to stop. But suddenly, when your hand stroked back up his already throbbing cock, he pulled away from your kisses. "Can we go a little slower?" he asked between raspy breaths. 

You nodded with uncertainty at him and gently slid your hand out of his underwear. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Guys usually like that."

"I do!" he insisted. "It's....just...maybe we can kiss more first?"

"Okay," you agreed. "How about on the couch?"

"Sure," Bob whispered. You pulled him further into your living room, fingers linked with his. When he settled back onto the sofa, you sat on his thigh, just like you had done on the barstool. 

"Is this better?" you asked, your lips brushing against his while you ran your fingers through his hair. Your cheek was nudging his glasses, and honestly, he was just as aroused as he had been when your hand was stroking him. 

"Yeah," he managed, and your mouth and his met in the best kisses he had ever felt. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually you were straddling his hips, and his hands were wrapped around the backs of your bare thighs.

"That feels good, Bobby," you whined as he stroked his thumbs along your perfect, soft skin. Your lips found his neck, sucking and licking him, and he had to work hard to fight the urge to buck up against you. He could feel you occasionally rub yourself against the open zipper of his pants, and each time he was afraid he was going to finish before anything really began. 

He didn't know what to do now. Was he supposed to ask you if you wanted to move to your bed? Was he supposed to tell you it was okay to touch him anywhere? Was he allowed to touch you anywhere?

When he eased his hands up along your butt only to determine that you weren't wearing any underwear at all, you kissed him hard. And then you slid from his lap so that you were kneeling on the floor between his spread thighs, and Bob watched you lick your lips. You reached for his pants and underwear and guided them down his legs while you smiled softly at him. When his hard cock was just inches from your lips, he got nervous again. But then your mouth was on him, and he had never in his whole life felt anything this amazing. 

You kissed his tip before parting your lips and sliding your mouth around him. He grunted, hands fisted on his knees, veins bulging in his arms. You moaned softly as you wrapped one sure hand around the base of him, and he throbbed with need for you. 

"You're really big," you whispered, pausing to kiss along his length, nudging him with your nose. He tipped his head back against the couch, praying that he wasn't going to embarrass himself after ten more seconds in your hand. When he felt your tongue lick his entire length from his balls back up to the tip, he snapped his head back to attention to watch you take the bead of his precum onto your tongue. 

And then you smiled again as he gaped at you. "If you don't like it this way, that's okay. You can tell me what you like best," you whispered before turning your head slightly to kiss his left fist where it was balled up and shaking on his knee. "And you can touch me if you want to."

Bob swallowed hard and then immediately blurted out, "I've never had a blowjob before."

You stared up at him, brow creased in confusion, pretty lips pursed. He could feel his face flushing, he was probably bright red. You were still stroking your thumb along his penis as you cocked your head to one side. 

"What do you mean? Never?" you asked softly. 

He shook his head back and forth in short, jerky motions, and he was so embarrassed. He thought maybe he should just leave. He shouldn't have even come home with you. "Never."

Then your face relaxed a bit, and you kissed his tip one more time before climbing back onto his lap. Bob relaxed his fists and wrapped his arms around your waist as you sat with his hard cock at attention between the two of you. But you didn't look bothered by anything now as you asked, "How old are you, Bobby?"

He swallowed hard and met your eyes, "I'm almost thirty."

You nodded and kissed his nose. "Have you had sex before?" you asked softly, pressing your lips to his cheek. 

"Yes," he replied, melting into the feel of your fingers and lips on him. "I've had two girlfriends."

"Okay," you told him, smiling before you kissed him. "So here's the deal, Bobby. I really like you. And I'd really like to give you a blowjob. If you want me to. And then I'd really like to take you to my bedroom, and I don't care if we just cuddle and talk, but I want you to stay with me all night. And then we can go out for breakfast. And then we can go out again after that if you think you like me as much as I like you."

This time Bob leaned forward to kiss you. "I'm nervous that I'm going to embarrass myself."

You laughed softly. "How do you think you're going to embarrass yourself?"

He let his gaze wander all over your face before he looked down at the couch cushion next to his thigh. "You know... I'm not going to last more than a minute."

Your soft sigh as you ran your fingers along his penis had his gaze snapping back to yours. "Oh, Bobby. I don't care about that." Then you bit your lip for a beat before you added, "It's kind of flattering, getting to do this for you. If you want me to. And if you cum really fast...well, we can try it again later. But that would be flattering, too."

He nodded his head, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek as he said, "Okay."

And then you were kneeling between his legs again, and he ran his fingers along your cheek while you stroked him with your hand a few times. "Ready?"

Your mouth was warm and wet, and Bob was treated to the feel of your tongue swirling along his length. It was the best thing he'd ever felt. Until you sucked on him. "Oh my god," he gasped, watching your pretty eyes as you looked at him. When you started to move your mouth up and down his cock, he laughed softly. "You're amazing."

You moaned while he was deep in your mouth, touching your throat, and he could feel his entire body start to tighten up. He wanted to panic, but then you bobbed along slowly, and he could only feel pleasure as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your head. And with one more swipe of your tongue, he was ejaculating right into your mouth. 

He couldn't formulate words as he grunted and watched you suck on him and swallow his cum. When he touched your throat as you swallowed him down, he groaned softly. 

"Was that okay?" you asked before licking up a little more cum that dripped out like it was a treat for you. Your hand was still wrapped around him, and you were treating him like a lollipop now, and he already wanted you to give him another blowjob. 

"Yes," he managed to say, feeling quite boneless on your couch as you giggled. 

"I liked it, too," you assured him. "Let's go to my bedroom." You pulled him to his feet, and somehow his brain recovered the knowledge of the mechanics of how to walk. He pulled his underwear and pants up as you led him along. He barely had a chance to look around your room before your hands were gently undoing his shirt buttons. And then you undressed him down to his white briefs, running your warm hands along his biceps and shoulders with a look of awe on your face.

Bob wouldn't say he was self conscious exactly; his body was strong, and it did everything he needed it to, because he took care of himself. But he wasn't as handsome as Hangman and Coyote, and he wasn't as muscular as Payback and Rooster. But you didn't seem to have an issue with anything you saw as you folded up his uniform and then pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. 

When he reached for your dress, you bit your lip and immediately said, "My body isn't perfect like yours."

"Perfect?" he mumbled. You thought he looked perfect? That was impossible. You were so close to perfection, he still couldn't believe you'd even talked to him at the Hard Deck in the first place. And with each additional time he looked at your face, he was certain you just got prettier.

"Yeah," you told him as you ran your fingers down his flat abs and then along the waistband of his underwear. "Perfect."

But you looked up at him and reached for the hem of your dress before you pulled it up your body and over your head, dropping it on top of his uniform and kind of shrugging. You were completely naked now, and Bob hadn't been prepared. At all. He started stuttering at the same time his cock started getting hard again.

"I th-think... wow." He took a deep breath and started over again. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"So smooth," you whispered. And then Bobby was in your bed as you reassured him that it was okay to just snuggle with you under the warm blanket. So he pulled you against the front of his body, and he was the big spoon as you kissed his hand.

He was sure you must have been able to feel the press of his erection against your back, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead you asked him all about himself, and you told him stories, too. And after a while, Bob's hands grew a little bolder, drifting over the soft skin of your belly and hips until it sounded like you were begging for him. Soft little moans filled the space while you whispered his name. He wasn't sure what to do next, but you rolled over to face him and started to kiss him. 

Yeah, this was really good. He liked this immensely. He liked the way your hands on his bare skin made him feel safe and grounded. He liked how you were going slowly again, because when you finally reached down toward his cock, he was ready for it. 

"Wait," he whispered, pushing you gently onto your back. "May I do to you what you did to me earlier?"

"Yes," you whispered, slowly spreading your thighs apart as Bob nodded. He'd done this a few times before. He'd liked it in the past. But when he put his lips on your slick slit, he moaned in pleasure which made you moan as well. He liked the way you tasted and smelled, and when he licked your opening, you were already gathering the sheets in your fists. 

That seemed like a good sign, so he just kept going. At each encouraging sound or gasped word from you, he went harder and faster. Soon you were loud. Like very loud. You were propped up on one elbow watching him. And you had one leg draped over his shoulder, heel digging into his back as you whined, "Bobby! You've done this before!" You were rolling your hips up against his face, nudging his glasses. 

When he slowed his movements to reach up and removed them, you gasped. "Don't you dare! You leave your glasses on!" Your eyes were flashing with need, and Bob did exactly as he was told. 

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered with a smile as he returned his mouth to your pussy. He licked and sucked until you were yanking on his hair and riding his face, and then you came with your back arched, whining his name so loudly, he thought your neighbors could probably hear. 

"Bobby!" you gasped before collapsing back on your pillow. And just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any better, you took his hands in yours and ran them along your breasts. "Kiss me," you demanded, and so he did. You licked his lips clean while he squeezed your breasts, and soon he was tasting you there as well. 

You were alternating between pulling him up to kiss your lips and pushing him down to kiss your breasts, and really there was no bad option for Bob. He could probably do this all night if that's what you wanted. But you seemed to want more, because you rolled him onto his back and pulled his underwear off in one swift motion.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that you don't have any condoms with you?" you asked softly, kissing his bent knee. 

He shook his head, but at least he was pretty sure he wasn't blushing any longer. "No. Sorry."

"I have some," you reassured him. "But... I don't know if they're big enough." You scooted off of the bed and walked out of the room, and Bob got a little apprehensive. He didn't know his size could potentially be an issue? He didn't even know he would be considered big. 

But when you walked in a minute later, tearing open a small box with a smile on your face, he felt better. Bob tried to roll on a condom, but it broke immediately. "It's okay," you said with a laugh, trying a second one which also broke. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a laugh. But you managed to get the third one on him successfully.

"I'm on the pill anyway," you told him. "You know, in case this one breaks, too."

"Alright," he whispered against your lips as you straddled him and guided your pussy down around him, inch by inch. You kissed his lips and cheeks and neck, running your fingers through his hair as you set a slow, steady pace.

But Bob was almost immediately stammering and blushing. "It feels too good," he told you, but you silenced him with your kisses and went a little harder. You felt so tight, so perfect, and you were letting him touch you everywhere. Your breasts were soft, and you were arching your back, pressing yourself into his hands. 

"You feel good too, Bobby," you promised him, grunting softly as you rode him. He let his hands slide slowly down your sides until they were on your hips, and that was a mistake. Because he could feel the motion of your body taking his. He could feel the roll of your hips against his palms.

"It's too good," he groaned, and then he was coming inside you. "Sorry," he whispered, panting against your shoulder as his pleasure washed over him. 

"Don't apologize for anything," you told him, riding him with slower movements until he was breathing like normal. 

"I just want to be better for you," he promised, and when you adjusted his glasses for him, he smiled. 

"We have all night."

Bob frowned at you. "Can we have longer than that?"

You looked down at him with parted lips. "If you still want to?"

"I thought we agreed we were going to date," he said. "Breakfast is one thing, but I thought we could do all kinds of stuff together. Hang out and maybe I could be your boyfriend after a week or two."

Without another word, you kissed him. And you didn't stop kissing him. And late night turned into early morning, and there were a few more experiments with the condoms. And a few without. 

And instead of ever making it to breakfast, Bob ended up treating you to lunch instead. He wore his wrinkled, day old uniform that you insisted looked adorable on him while he sat with his arm around you. And then he took you to see his place, which consisted of lots of snuggling and another blowjob. 

"My friends are asking if I'm going to the bar again tonight," he told you, running his fingers along your arm as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

"Do you want to go?" you asked, pressing your lips to his neck.

"Only if you come with me."

And when Bob strolled into the Hard Deck again on Saturday night with your arms wrapped around his waist and your voice in his ear, he just smiled at the looks he was getting. It didn't matter if he thought he was as handsome as Hangman or as strong as Payback, because you kept assuring him that you thought he was. 

You spent another evening touching and kissing him, perched on his leg and laughing. And he made plans with you for the following day and the following weekend and the one after that. He wouldn't be surprised if he was making plans with you every day for the rest of his life. And he would let you name the golden retriever. 

----------------

I wonder what the dog's name will be. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

They had planned to leave before Bruce got back to the Manor, but plans change all the time and it wasn't Danny's fault!

Alfred had invited a friend of Dick's, Barbra Gordon, to the Manor for dinner, meaning that Dick had to stay if he wanted to see her. And since Dick was staying, Danny was staying. Tim wasn't about to leave Danny to Bruce's mercy, so he was staying for dinner, too.

Bruce Wayne arrived at Wayne Manor exactly three and a half minutes after six in the evening. He entered the kitchen exactly ten minutes and five seconds after that.

The air was tense.

Dick had been tense since Danny first roped him into coming to Gotham, only getting worse as they got closer to the building they were now sitting in. Now that Bruce and Dick were in the same room, it was like the rope had frayed to the point of snapping with a light breeze.

Bruce sat at the head of the table with Tim to his left and down a chair. Dick sat at the foot of the table, Barbra sitting to his immediate right. Danny sat on the unoccupied side of the table, directly in the middle.

No one was saying a word.

Danny was on edge.

Finally, "Dick," Bruce said.

"Bruce," was the response.

As if the spell had been broken, though the awkwardness remained, Barbra cleared her throat and said, "It's good to have you back in Gotham, D."

Dick smiled at her, soft and happy and relieved. "It's good to see you, Babs. How've you been?"

"The same as usual. Though, Condiment King again!" She glared when Dick started laughing. "Yeah, sure, laugh it up, Wonder Boy. It took three hours to get that mustard out of my costume! It's easier to get blood out of white carpets-!"

Bruce pointedly cleared his throat, bringing all attention to him. "As good as it is to see you, Dick, who've you brought with you?"

Barbra flinched back slightly, having forgotten Danny was even there. Oops.

Danny grinned at Bruce, hiding his nerves behind his favorite fake-it-'til-you-make-it smile. "My name's Danny, it's nice to meet you Mister Wayne! I have to say, you're a lot less smiley in person than you are on the internet."

He hummed. "I apologize. Today's been an off day."

"No need," Danny waved off politely, "I get it."

"I have to say, Daniel-"

"'Danny', please. My name's Danny."

To his credit, Bruce didn't even skip a beat. "Then, call me Bruce. I must say that I didn't expect Dick to have taken anyone in."

Danny chuckled a bit. "I think it's less of him taking me in and more of me kind of letting myself into his house."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I noticed he wasn't doing too well, so I figured I'd step in to help where I could before he got himself hurt." 'Or worse' was heavily implied. "I imagine Tim did much the same with you?"

Tim stiffened as Bruce sighed. Well, that's not a good sign.

"Yes, though Tim doesn't live here."

"He has a room, though, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. I can't imagine having to travel with the kind of injuries you guys get at night is very fun." Here, he turned and looked Barbra in the eye. "Honestly, you deserve a prize for traveling from here to wherever you live after getting injured."

Barbra smiled sheepishly, "Thanks? I don't really come here, though. Only on occasion."

Bruce interrupted before the conversation could continue, "What do you mean? Dick's the only one of us who could possibly get hurt on the job." He shook his head. "Honestly, why did you ever join the BHPD? It's too dangerous."

Oh, Danny had to put a stop to that right away!

"Sorry, to jump in here, Mister Wayne, but I know what all of you moonlight as." He ignored Bruce's narrowed, sharp glare. "You're Batman, Dick is Nightwing, Tim is Robin, meaning that Barbra has to be Batgirl and, if I'm right, Oracle."

"Who are you?" Bruce demanded. He didn't ask because asking is for people who aren't paranoid enough to have six levels of security at the front gate alone.

"I just told you: Danny." He unflinchingly met Bruce's glare. "Not good enough for you? I'm Danny, personal caretaker of vigilantes who refuse to take care of themselves, bookkeeper, cook, unlicensed medical unprofessional, et cetera. Though, don't call me a therapist because that's my sister. Is that a better answer?"

Bruce hummed.

The meal itself was somehow even worse than before Alfred had brought out the food. Glares were being thrown and concerned glances shared. It made the food taste bad, which was probably a war crime.

Danny had been raised with manners, so he'd thanked Alfred for making dinner. He even offered to help with clean up, though he backed down when he was refused. He knows better.

After dinner, the group had gone back into the very same drawing room as before. Dick and Barbra cuddled together on the couch, Bruce and Tim took the two armchairs, and Danny sat on the floor in front of the now lit fireplace.

"So, Tim," Danny started, "You working on any interesting cases?"

Tim seemed to perk up a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's a murder-"

"We're not at liberty to discuss anything with you, Daniel." Bruce's voice was gravely, almost the voice he used as Batman, as he spoke over Tim.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "I believe I told you my name is 'Danny', not 'Daniel'."

"Well, seeing as I don't actually know you, and you have offered up no sir name, I'll stick with calling you whatever I'm comfortable with, especially in my own home."

"This isn't a fight you wanna pick, Mister Wayne. You might want to rethink your choice."

"I am well aware of what battles to fight. However, you're mistaken. This isn't a battle. I'm merely stating that I will be calling you 'Daniel' until you offer up your sir name to be called by."

Danny very obviously looked Bruce up and down. "I guess my parents were right; You can't ever believe everything you read on the internet."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Because you, Mister Wayne, are horrible with children."

The temperature in the room dropped. Bruce's glare hardened even more. He appraised Danny, assessing him and filing away everything he could find. "Speaking to me like that in my own home is quite the move."

"Are you threatening me, Mister Wayne?"

"Not at all," he denied. "What are you really doing here, Dick?"

"I wanted to come meet Tim," Dick lied.

"Don't lie to me."

"What, I can't even come meet your newest Robin?"

"After the way you treated Jason?"

Dick stood quickly, Barbra scrambling to her feet. "After the way I-! You're the one who let him put on my old uniform!"

Bruce stood to his full height, looking down on Dick. "Me? You barely even talked to him! I spent as much time as I could with him!"

Danny blocked out the already out of hand yelling match and grabbed Barbra's and Tim's hands, leading them out of the room. This was not how he was hoping this would go at all.

He could still hear the yelling, even in the foyer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to Tim and Barbra, "I didn't expect this to happen."

"It's alright," Barbra said, flinching when she realized that she could hear both men's voices almost clearly.

"No, it's not. I dragged Dick here to apologize to Tim. We were supposed to leave before Bruce even left Wayne Enterprises."

Tim shook his head. "We should've anticipated something like this would happen."

"Yeah..."

The three sat together on the steps, Bruce and Dick's voices carrying through the wood and marble.

"Hey," Barbra said after a few minutes, "How do you know about the Cave being under the Manor?"

Danny blinked at her before turning to Tim. "There's a cave under the Manor?!" He glared playfully at his friend. "You didn't tell me that your base of operations is a cave under Wayne Manor!"

"If it makes you feel any better," Tim offered, "Dick named it the Bat Cave."

"It's called the Bat Cave!?"

Part 12 Part 14

[pedrospatch]

jealous

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You aren't together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. asshole Joel, jealous Joel, he softens up a bit though. established dynamic, Joel and reader have known each other for a decade.

word count: 2k

a/n: highkey i recycled this idea from myself b/c jealous Joel is like...so hot to me. i love this trope, my favorite variant is when he gets aggressively possessive however i don't think i can top some of the amazing fics out there that have gone that direction so i took a softer, fluffier approach to it. also, happy tlou finale day everyone, we'll get through it all together 💗

Jackson, Wyoming

Winter 2024

“Before you head out for patrol, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night.”

Joel’s blood boiled hot in each and every single vein in his entire body as he watched the scene that was unfolding before him just outside of the horse stables. It was late in the evening, and Tommy’s group was gearing up to head out for tonight’s patrol.

You had just finished saddling up your borrowed horse, Daisy, when Owen had sauntered up to you. Joel didn’t know the man, aside from his name. He had been placed in Owen’s patrol group once or twice in the past several months since returning to Jackson, but for the most part, he’d never spoken more than two words to him, and even when he had, it was only when he really didn’t have a choice. Though he didn’t know Owen, one thing was for damn fucking sure—he didn’t like the way that he was looking at you.

And he definitely didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.

In the decade that he’d known you, Joel had never seen you lay your eyes on another man before, not until this very moment.

And it was bothering the fucking shit out of him.

“Yeah, I had a really nice time too,” You replied, flashing him a warm and friendly smile. It was in your nature to be sweet and kind to just about anyone you felt you could trust, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but seeing you interact so effortlessly with him only made Joel’s anger bubble even hotter.

Owen reached out to take your hand in his and Joel angrily clenched his fists the moment he touched you. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a night when you’re not stuck with patrol duty?” he suggested.

You nodded, smiling once again. “Sure, I’d really like that.”

Joel couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He was mere seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. Though he had every desire to go up to Owen, snatched his hand away from yours and give him a piece of his mind, Joel had to remind himself that the last thing he needed to do was cause any kind of trouble in the settlement—Maria wouldn’t have any of that in her community, even if he was her husband’s brother.

After taking a minute to somewhat calm himself enough to a point where he knew he wouldn’t throw a punch, he stiffly walked towards the two of you, calling your name. “Hate to interrupt,” he practically sneered, “But we’re startin’ to lose our time. Tommy’s waitin’ for us at the gate.”

Owen grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand. “Sorry about that, Miller. I didn’t mean to keep your patrol partner, here.”

Ignoring him, Joel narrowed his dark brown eyes at you. “Get on the horse and let’s fuckin’ go. Now.”

Your smile faded, your mouth falling open slightly in shock at his tone.

Though you knew Joel had always been rough around the edges with other people, he’d never spoken to you like that before. For a brief moment, it almost felt like he’d just slapped you across the face.

Without waiting for your response, he whirled around on the heel of his leather boot in the snow and stalked off towards his waiting stallion, his rifle hanging over his shoulder.

Owen frowned, letting go of your hand. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered slightly. “But I’m certainly going to find out.”

After bidding a quick goodbye to Owen, you quickly walked over to Joel just before he could climb up into the saddle of his horse.

“Excuse me, but what the fucking hell was that?” You asked fiercely as you approached him. 

With his back still to you, he rigidly replied, “What was what?”

“Get on the horse and let’s fucking go. Now,” You mimicked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “How dare you fucking talk to me like that! What’s your fucking problem?”

He remained silent.

“Joel?” You waited for a moment, but still, he said nothing. “Hello? Joel, I’m talking to you! Answer me!”

Slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes had gone stone cold.

You’d seen him give those eyes to others before, but he had never given them to you.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot of work to do around here. Tommy and Maria expect both of us to pull our fuckin’ weight if we want to stay here. You understand that?”

“But Joel—”

“We don’t have time for you to stand around flirtin’ with your little boyfriend over there and wastin’ time.”

Despite being angry, you could have laughed—you almost did.

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you managed to hold it back.

“First of all, we’re not fucking teenagers, Joel, so cut that shit out,” You said, letting your arms drop back down to your sides. “I hardly know Owen. We met at the Tipsy Bison last night, we had a few drinks and we were just telling each other that we had a good time, that’s all.”

Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, ain’t that fuckin’ sweet.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taken aback by his behavior.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, Joel Miller, I would say that you were jealous or something,” You accused him. You felt a shiver go up and down the length of your spine. It was hard to tell if it was because of the frigid, negative degree temperatures outside—or was it due to the fact that there was actually a possibility that the man you had been helplessly in love with for almost ten years now was bothered by the idea of you being with someone else?

He scoffed in response. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain’t jealous.”

“Then why the hell are you so upset?”

“I ain’t upset, either.”

“Okay, then why else would you be acting like such a damn asshole towards me?” You challenged him, causing his jaw to clench tightly. “If you’re not jealous, then why do you look like you’re fucking ready to murder Owen with your bare hands?”

Joel groaned out of frustration. “Jesus, can you just fuckin’ drop it? We have to leave before Tommy—”

You reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out, Joel. I need to know what’s going on with you. Please. Just fucking talk to me.”

He snatched his arm out of your grasp and took a step back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? That you���re absolutely right? That I’m fuckin’ jealous? That the second I saw that prick take your hand, it took every single ounce of strength I had inside me not to walk over and knock his fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”

You exhaled the shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. “Joel, you have no fucking right to be jealous. You know how I feel about you, you have always known how I fucking feel about you. But you were the one who told me that we couldn’t be together, that we could never be together.” Your voice began to tremble, and you paused for a brief moment, trying to collect yourself. “You’re the one who said that we’d never be anything more than smuggling partners. Even after everything that’s happened with us, what we’ve been through with Ellie—you still keep me at arm’s length, now more than ever before.”

“So you finally found somebody else,” he stated, bitterly. “That it? You tryin’ to move on from me?”

“Yes. No.” You let out a small groan, knowing that if there was one thing you could not do, it was lie to Joel. “Yes, okay? I’ve been trying to fucking move on from you.”

Joel’s stomach sank at your admission. “And he’s the guy, huh?”

“Owen is a nice guy. And I really liked spending time with him—” You looked up at him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, alright?” You continued quickly before he could say anything. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now, Joel. Ever since we came back to Jackson, things have changed. Do you think I haven’t noticed that we only ever talk when we’re sent out on patrol together? That we don’t eat our meals together anymore like we used to? That whenever I even try and approach you, you make up some excuse to leave, even when we’re in our own fucking house?” Hot, frustrated tears blurred your vision. Not wanting to cry, you furiously blinked them back. “Ellie asked me the other day if something was wrong with us. Even she notices the way you’ve been treating me these last few months, Joel. How you avoid me like I’m the fucking plague.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, not knowing what to say.

“You can’t be upset with me for trying to move on, not when you’re the one who’s been pushing me away—and I don’t just mean here in Jackson. For ten fucking years you’ve been pushing me away, Joel.” Your voice cracked, and a tear finally gave way and slipped down the side of your face.

His expression suddenly softened. “I had to push you away, darlin’.”

You subconsciously stepped closer to him. “But why?”

“Because, what I felt—what I’ve been feelin’ for you, it’s somethin’ that I didn’t think I could feel for someone ever again. It’s so strong and runs so fuckin’ deep that it scares the shit out of me,” Joel confessed, a trembling edge to his tone. “Before Wyoming, it was so fuckin’ easy not to think about it. We were too busy fightin’ to survive, to protect Ellie—now that we’re here and every goddamn day isn’t a fight for survival, things changed, alright? What I feel for you runs through my mind all fuckin’ day. There ain’t no avoidin’ it.”

“Joel—”

He cut you off. “I never meant to hurt you. When we got here, I thought it’d be best to put some distance between us. I thought that maybe if I spent less time with you, what I feel would just go away somehow. But I was wrong. Wrong and stupid to think that what I’ve been feelin’ for ten fuckin’ years would just disappear.”

“What do you feel for me, Joel?” You whispered, looking up at him.

Your eyes widened in a slight surprise as Joel reached up and gently cupped your cheek in the palm of his gloved hand. He put his other hand on your hip and pulled you as close as he possibly could to him. He looked deeply into your eyes as your arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Joel leaned down into you, and the both of you stood absolutely still, each waiting for the other to make the final move. 

Finally, it was Joel who closed the remaining distance between you and him.

He softly pressed his lips to yours. Any and all hesitation that he might have had before vanished completely as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 

“That,” he said breathlessly once he’d pulled away, “Is what I feel for you.”

“Never thought I’d see the fucking day,” You murmured against his lips, a tiny, joking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Joel leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Look darlin’, m’real sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just that seein’ you with that prick, the thought of you with him, or with any other man that ain’t me, I just couldn’t fuckin’ handle it.” He paused briefly, taking a look around. Part of him hoped Owen was still around and watching his every move. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make sure every man in Jackson knows you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” You assured him, gently. “Believe me. You are the only man that I could ever want. I’m all yours, Joel.”

[fire-lizard-ro]

Hi Roro, hope you’re doing well! Let me start by saying your Sunday stuff is MAGNIFICENT, oh my gosh this MAN-

I’ve come with a request for you…

Dr. Veritas Ratio x fem or gn reader. Bathtub. Sex. Like most of the time he’s only interested in reading in the tub, rejecting reader’s advances. But one day, idk, he’s in a MOOD but he doesn’t want to admit it, so he lets reader go a little further than normal with her advances, but he’s still being petty about it, kinda denying and still trying to read his book or whatever and it just Escalates eventually…

Aaaa thank you so much if you decide to do my request! Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated!

I'm ILL over this man jfc-

Dr. Ratio here to prescribe you with a dose of vitamin D-//SHOT

Veri, my love, please just one chance I'm begging just a crumb oisego-

But yesssss gimme the bathtube sex I want it- I wanna do all kinds of wild things to or with this man. Crazy.

But hehehe I know what you are. 👁️👁️

A s i m p . 🫵 (Like I'm any better.)

And thank you!!! This took a While, but I did it. I had lots of fun with it so feel free to request again~

CW and writing under the cut:

CW: vagina and cock (gasp), PIV sex, cockwarming, rough sex, hair pulling, choking (+some breath play), cumming inside (wrap it before you tap it folks), spanking, degradation+praise, objectification, kinda sorta human furniture thing???, name calling (ex:slut), use of words like "cunt" (wow that feels weird writing here-), marking, ignoring you during cockwarming, doggy position(?), cum play, holding your hands behind your back, discussion of safe wording (check-ins), kinda cum as lube?, funishment, d/s aspects to the relationship (though you are dating for romantic reasons as well), slight pussy slapping, talking to your pussy (I know this man a freak <333), crying during sex (+dacryphilia), dumbification (ofc this was gonna be here), ruined orgasm, edging, slight cum eating, a liiiiittle bit of gagging (w/ fingers), usage of "pet" exactly once

Reader gender: fem (I talked with anon separately and they decided on this when I asked for preference- I also only have one fem reader ask. If people want, I can write another version tweaked to be gn or AMAB/male reader~)

Disclaimers:

>>>Dr. Ratio will be referred to as Veritas here since reader is dating him.

>>>This was written and almost finished before 1.6 release.

Bathtub sex, surprisingly, probably isn't the norm for you two. After all, Veritas (oml it feels weird calling him that after so long of calling him Ratio-) enjoys his down time in the bath where he can relax with you and read his books. I like to think that it's one of the few times when his ever racing mind is a bit quieter. So when you are finally pent up enough at just the right time to want to pounce on him in the tub, he's a bit surpised at first. But the surprise would soon melt into mild annoyance. "Can't you just stay still? Quit it- I'm trying to read."

Of course he says it in that ever dramatic way of his while not even glancing up from his book. Speaking of said book- "You're going to get my book wet, darling-" (Yes, he's a "darling" kind of guy. It's sophisticated as he is. And you know he'd say it with that drawl of his and drag the word out. Sometimes in those more intimate moments, it sounds almost like a sultry purr with the way he says it, commanding all your attention.) "And if you do that, you know I'm going to have to punish you, hm?" You almost want it if it means he'd touch you where you want him, but you know that his punishments aren't necessarily fun. Yet still you like them all the same.

(They're more of funishments than punishments in this case- Please do know that funishments and punishments aren't the same, my dear little kinksters~ Since the reader actually enjoys these "punishments" a lot and they are done for their and Veritas' mutual gratification, it's a funishment. These are normally for bratting behavior while actual punishments are for serious things and are meant to actually discourage the behavior that earned you the punishment. Hopefully I explanied it well, lololol-)

But of course you continue to try and rouse his interest, touching him here and there. It reaches the point where you manage to wiggle your way between his arms, in front of his book. Not only does this block his view, but you're dripping water all over his book! (It was all of one or two droplets.) If you listened close enough, you'd probably have heard the sound of his reason breaking in that moment. Like you had poked a sleeping bear one too many times. (And some little part of himself that knew it was also partly because he also was getting into a mood was squashed. Of course it was just because you needed to be disciplined.)

"That's it. You want my attention, darling? Well now you have it.” There was something dark in his voice that sent a shiver down your back and made your nethers tingle in anticipation. He snapped the book closed and set it on the table by the bathtub almost gently, a stark contrast between how his voice sounded and how he was looking at you. He'd tilt his head and consider you, seemingly thinking about how best to punish you for your transgressions. "Hands on my shoulders and do not move them. Color?" Veritas was launching right into it, huh? "Green." "Good."

With hands on his strong shoulders, you watched him with eyes darting around his form to try and figure out what he'd do. Your question was answered by a hand gripping your hip and another dragging down between your breasts, then over your belly, then stopping on your mound. He didn't move any lower, fingers thrumming there just above where you wanted him. Teasing. "I can see your cunt drooling from here. Was she just so hungry that you couldn't be good and hold it until we were out of the tub?" Heat bloomed in your cheeks as he spoke. "Should I punish her? Hm?" Veritas gave your wetness a few light slaps, just enough to make you jolt but not enough to do more than just barely sting. "No- It isn't her fault she's so empty and wanting. But it is your fault that you couldn't be obedient and wait. Isn't that right, my cute little slut?" He whispered in your ear, leaned forward to curl possessively over you while his fingers slipped down to trace around your twitching hole as it tried to suck his finger in.

"Mmmmm..." he hummed lowly, the sound vibrating against you where your chests were pressed together. He kissed the spot beneath your ear before his lips marked a path down your neck, sucking and nipping marks into the tender flesh there. Just as he reached the junction between your neck and shoulder, he suddenly sunk his teeth in and thrusted two fingers into you at the same time. Veritas had sneakily wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still right before so you weren't able to squirm away from his teeth or his fingers that now plunged in and out of you, agonizingly slow after that fast, rough entry.

The man pressed a kiss to your new bitemark before sliding the hand of the arm around your waist up your back to latch onto your nape and hold you still for a kiss. He chuckled into it as you attempted to fight him for dominance, your tongues clashing. Ultimately, he won and was now devouring your mouth, licking into it with fervor.

At some point, his fingers began to speed up. Veritas was fingerfucking you with his palm slapping against your throbbing clit. And right as you felt yourself begin that climb- He slowed down, his thrusts going back to a leisurely rhythm. He swallowed the whine that left your throat, smirking into the kiss you were still locked in. As he pulled away, he looked incredibly smug. "Thought it would be that easy? Of course not. This is a punishment.”

He did this another time, bringing you close to the rise of pleasure (not at all that close to your peak, though) before going frustratingly slowing. The third time, however... It didn't seem that he was going to stop, and you felt it build and build inside you like a white hot flame. And right as you were reaching the end... He spanked you and ripped his fingers out, sending you over the edge but ruining your orgasm. It had tears beading in your eyes. Fuck did that make him want to fuck you absolutely stupid, but he had more control than that. Your punishment was far from over.

He soothingly ran his hand over your back as you leaned into him, body shivering. "Color?" Through your panting breaths, you managed a weak, "Green." "Good girl." He didn't let you rest any longer, manhandling you into a new position. Now you were leaned over the edge of the tub with your hands keeping you from falling out, Veritas behind you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and you're going to take it all like a good girl, right?" At first you thought he was talking to you, but then he caressed your slit and cooed at it. That mixed sense of shame and arousal shot through you and had you clenching around nothing, making Veritas laugh condescendingly. "So honest..."

Again he started out slow, the sensual slide of his cock inside of your pussy making you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure he was giving you. But he was faster to ramp things up now that he'd already edged you and ruined one of your orgasms. It may or may not have also been because he was quite ready to slake his own lust with your body.

The only reason you didn't slam your face into the tub's edge or fall out was Veritas' grip on you when he grabbed both of your wrists and pulled your arms behind your back. You felt a hand slide into your hair and then he was thrusting into you hard, the slap of his hips slamming into your ass loud in the confined space of the bathroom. It was obscene the way you could even hear the wet sound of his cock going in and out of you amplified by the natural acoustics of said bathroom. "You like hearing how well you take me, slut? I certainly do. It's filthy. Fitting-"

Your hips are bruising from them being pressed onto the edge of the tub, bumping into it with almost every thrust. It hurt but fuck did it all feel so good because he was pressing against your sweet spot every time he fucked into your wet hole.

The hand pulling your head back by your hair let go only to wrap around your throat and pull you up so your back pressed against his chest. "Fuck you sound like such a whore right now. Are you my good little whore? Just for me?" Of course you couldn't answer because your mind was blank from his hand pressing just right to cut off some of that blood flow. Oh and because he had also just tilted his hand to cut off your air. He held for a bit, waiting until your vision was a bit fuzzy at the edges before letting you breathe, the feeling of the air rushing back into your lungs making you dizzy. You felt so close you could scream- And then you nearly did when he pulled out and stopped your orgasm.

His hands let go of you and you nearly keeled over, but he caught you. With an arm around your waist, you couldn't tell what he was doing behind you until you heard the slick sound of him fisting his cock. Right as he began cumming, he slammed back into you to fill you with it while biting down hard on the back of your neck. Another bite to mark you as his.

Veritas then pulled out so the last few spurts of cum would paint your labia in white, marking you inside and out with his spend.

You could feel the frustrated tears pouring down your face as you felt your burning arousal festering in your belly and the mix of embarrassment and thrill at his actions. Fuck this man would be the end of you. He unlatched from your neck to lean forward and lick the tears off your face with a hum. "You look so pretty like this..." He patted your ass before that same hand was sliding down to open you up using your pussy lips as he leaned back to watch as the cum he poured into you began to slip out.

Scooping up the cum that had dribbled out, he fingered it back in, purposefully tapping at your gspot a few times. He then pulled the white covered fingers out and petted your clit, playing with it a little before bringing it to your face. "Clean them off." Your tongue kitten licked some of it off before he was shoving them in your mouth. You gagged a little, drooling over his fingers while weakly sliding your tongue over them to clean them of the cum clinging to them.

"Good girl," he praised with a kiss to your jaw before he let out a sigh. "I'm going to sit you on my cock and finish my reading. Color?" "Green, fuck-" "That's a good pet."

Warming his cock while leaned forward to rest your arms on the lip of the tub while your head rested on those was hard. You desperately wanted to cum, but you now were willing to be obedient to get what you wanted. You weren't sure how much more punishment you could take. It didn't help that he had an arm resting on the back of your hips, slung over them as he leaned on you a bit while his other arm rested atop the other one. That hand was holding up his book. He wasn't touching you besides that and your ass resting in the cradle of his hips, cock deep inside your pussy which still fluttered around his thickness occasionally. Every time you squirmed he would spank you with a pointed look before going back to his book, ignoring you entirely. Any whining or talking would be met with the same treatment.

He checked in on you after a bit. "Color?" "...yellow." His demeanor changed immedately. Petting your side, he eased you back to lean against him once more. "What's wrong, baby?" He typically saved that endearment for intimate moments alone together and times like this where you might need reassurance. "I wanna see your face... wanna hold you." It seemed you might be a bit sensitive, now, after being punished for a while and needed that from him. "Of course, baby. Your punishment is almost over. I'll let you come soon and we can continue in the bedroom, hm?" You loved this man. "Okay." He kissed your forehead. "Good girl."

He slipped out, making you whine. It was met with a chuckle and he helped you turn around to slide into his lap again, this time facing him.

Veritas pulled you to rest against him, tucking you into his neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Once you both were settled in, he went back to reading. He still ignored you, but it wasn't so bad this time.

You knew he was done when he set his book on the table again.

He settled his grip on your hips before going straight into fucking up into you hard and fast, what cum was still left in you from his cock plugging it in you aiding the slide of dick in and out of you. He fucked you and played with you until you felt like you couldn't think straight. Even when he asked you questions, knowing you couldn't answer, you weren't quite sure what you said. Whether it was even coherent or not.

"Such a cute, dumb girl for me."

As you came around his cock again, you moaned as you felt the warmth of his cum in you. "Did so, so good for me. Such a good girl." Veritas gave you some time to come down from your high before asking. "Do you want to continue in the bedroom or are you finished for the night?" "...m' done." "Alright, baby." He gave you some more time before cleaning you up and draining the tub. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. "Let's go to bed, darling. I'll take care of you."

Lololol hopefully you like it. 🙏

If there’s any typos or if it doesn’t make sense somewhere… Your honor my client claims “oopsie daisy”. It’s me. The client is me, your honor-

[brodieland]

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 10 Things I hate about you ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader Synopsis: Percy starts trying to make his move on Y/N, but she just won't budge!! Warning(s): swearing Word Count: 1902

╰➤ MASTERLIST pt2

"That's actually the new rule? God Silena must hate you," Piper joked.

"You wouldn't even imagine, she's so dramatic. And her taste in boys isn't any better," you shook your head. You were both walking to get some water, absolutely dehydrated from soccer.

"Makes me glad I like girls," you both laughed. As practice neared it's end, Piper was heading towards her dad's car to go home. You made your way over to the bleachers where your bags sat and grabbed them before heading back to your car. When you sat down, you got a text from Silena,

'can u get some McDonalds on ur way back'

'no' 'sike im going now'

You pulled into the parking lot seeing the drive-thru line was too long to wait. You walked up to an empty kiosk, to tired to interact with anyone, and ordered your food.

"You go to AHS right," a guys voice you didn't recognize asked from behind you.

"I don't know, what does my uniform say?"

"That you're a soccer kid. You sure your any good?"

You sighed as you turned to face the mysterious boy behind you. He was taller than average with messy black hair. He had a hoodie with some sweats on. "Soccer balls aren't the only kind of balls I can kick the life out of, so can you fuck off?"

"Woah, feisty one aren't you?"

"By feisty would you maybe mean iconoclast, orrr?"

"Maybe more intractable," you raised your eyebrows.

"Wow, big words huh," You went to turn back and finish ordering. Percy took the chance to walk over, leaning on the machine whilst facing you.

"What? Did you think I was stupid?"

You internally groaned, why was he still here? "You definitely have the look. Now, do you mind?"

He was standing in front of the machine to pay, "Oh, never."

He had a shit eating grin as he pulled his phone and paid. "Hey! I didn't ask you to do that."

"Call it my treat," he smiled.

"No I'm paying you back, I think I have cash in my bag," you went rummaging through your bag to find absolutely no cash. "Apple Pay?"

"Hey, are you asking for my number? That's really sweet," it feels like an aneurysm just burst from the annoyance this conversation has left you with.

"Nevermind fuck you I'm not paying you back," you spat back.

"Meaning now you owe me," Percy said. Deep breathes.

"I don't owe you shit, its not like I asked you to pay."

"Yeah yeah, potato potato," Percy made his way towards the door. "See ya around, I'll figure out how you can return the favor."

You might just have to air out the McDonalds. You sighed and waited for five minutes as they called out for your order. When you grabbed the food you made your way home, eating Silena's fries on the way back. Dad was working late at the hospital so it was just you two.

"Have I ever told you your my favorite sister?"

"No not as of late," you put the bags of food on the table and started chowing down. "You literally haven't spoken to me in two days. Be glad I'm so nice."

"Well nice is a really strong word," you glared at her. "If you really wanted to be nice, then you'd-"

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm gonna say."

"Fine, what?"

"You'd go on a date so I can go on a date-"

"No," Silena grunted loudly.

"Why do you insist on keeping me captive in this home. I wanna enjoy my teenage years you know."

"You not missing out on much. The guys here are lame, including your oh so dreamy Lukey."

"He's literally amazing. Like have you seen him? His car?"

"Hard to miss. He's just so in your face, it makes me sick," you faked gagged.

"Haven't you ever wanted to live the perfect teenage life."

"Tried it. It sucked, not what it's caked out to be," you smiled as you started to clean up. Silena leaned back into her chair sighing, looking defeated. "You know, college is only two years away. I think you'll be fine until then."

"My life is so boring," she said as she walked up to her room. You could tell she was upset, but you weren't going to date some loser just so she could get tossed by Luke when he was bored. That was something he did a lot.

You went to do some homework at your desk while listening to some music. You saw your phone went off and went to check it, someone had texted you.

'I think I found a way for u to pay back the favor'

There's no way.

'how tf did u find my number'

'dw bout it??' 'why u gotta be nosy??'

'im blocking you'

'wait??'

'no??' 'fine wtf do u want'

'on Friday there's a party'

'no'

'alright I'll pick you up at 9'

'no you won't???'

He stopped answering after that. How on gods green grass did he find your number? You just ignored it, putting your phone on silent and getting back to your homework. Without realizing it, you fell asleep at your desk.

You woke up when you heard banging at the door, "Y/N!!"

You leaned up and stretched in your chair. Desk naps are absolute back killers holy. "What do you want?"

"Did you ever make it to your bed," Silena looked at you up and down.

"No, what time is it?"

"Time for you to hurry the hell up, we need to leave now," she said as she stormed out. You groaned as you stood up and walked over to your closet, grabbing some jeans and a hoodie before running down toward your car. "About time."

"I could just not drive you," you said as you both stepped in the car. You were just joking of course, she doesn't need to be asking Luke Castellan for a ride anyways.

You pulled in the parking lot, and before even coming to a full stop, you saw your sister jumping out and making her way to Mr. Convertible. BARF.

"Dude, I don't think the plans working," Charles said, sounding worried.

Leo sighed, "look we just need some time, Y/Ns not gonna just give in after like, a day."

Charles groaned as he stared at Silena and Luke flirting from a mere 50 feet away. The way her long hair flowed in the wind, the way her lip gloss shinned in the sun, he couldn't get enough. "Whatever, I have French tutoring with her later, we'll see how it goes."

"Not gonna lie this is kind of hard," Percy said from behind the two, making them jump.

"Jesus, you need a bell or something," Leo said with his hand on his heart, feeling it speed up.

Percy rolled his eyes, "Anyways, I think she blocked me, and all I did was pay for her food."

Charles just softly facepalmed. When he got his face out of his hands, he saw Luke walking towards them.

"Luke," Percy cheered while holding his arms out. Luke did not return the hug.

"Dude, I'm not paying you to get fucking aired. I need you to take her to the party this Friday. Not the one in 20 and a half years," Luke complained.

"Dude, its not like Y/Ns the easiest person to ask out around here," Leo chimed.

"Literally," Percy agreed. "Look, I invited her out to the party, just gimme a moment bro." "Plus, I'm gonna need a pay raise."

Luke laughed in his face, "Yeah no way."

"Then you can say goodbye to little ms Silena over there," Luke rolled his eyes as he pulled out his wallet, slapping a Benjamin into Percy's hand. "Love you too."

Luke just held up his middle finger as he walked off, "He's such an amazing ray of sunshine isn't he?"

Percy and Charles just stared at Leo, "What? Am I not allowed to be my funny and whimsical self?"

They both walked off without saying a word. Silena and Charles have their free period and use it to study on some French together.

"So how's operation 'get my impossible sister a date' going," Silena asked.

"Well, we have a guy, but she's just not going for him. We need some help here, what kind of guy does she go for?"

"The problem is she just DOESN'T," Charles gave her a look before she continued. "Not like that. I mean, she thinks guys like Logan Lerman and Dylan O'brian are pretty hot, so Percys probably her type."

"Okay so we got that right at least," he grumbled.

"I mean the reason she just shits on all the guys here is because she thinks of them all as 'misogynistic assholes of the patriarchy,' she rolled her eyes.

"So what, a guy who can shut the fuck up when needed or something," Silena laughed at Charles joked, and he sweared he started ascending.

"Yeah just maybe," she smiled.

"Silena, can I ask you something?"

"Whats up?"

"You know the party on Friday. Would you wanna go? I mean if Percy can convince your sister and all you know."

"Of course I want to go, which is why I really need Y/N to just man up," she paused. "or woman up, I guess."

﹒º. ౨ৎ

You sat back and doodled in your notebook in your English class. After spending most the class debating over sexist views in classic literature, you felt kind of annoyed. Its like no one cares these days, you know?

The bell rang and you walked over to your friend Hazel. "Honestly you should be like a lawyer or something, watching you arguing these boys is like music to my ears."

"You might be on to something, I love belittling them as it is. Imagine I got paid to do it," you laughed. When you walked out the class, you saw Hazel's boyfriend, Frank, waiting for her outside. You waved hello then paused when you saw Percy next to him.

"Oh look who it is," Percy exclaimed. You didn't even waste your breathe as you just turned and walked off towards your locker. Percy quickly rubbed his temples and ran after you. "Where ya going?"

"Anywhere," you said as you made it to your locker to grab your next books. Percy stood off to the side, leaning on the lockers. "What do you want now?"

"To take you out this Friday night," he smiled.

"I'd rather swallow 4 laxatives and a bowling ball and staple my ass cheeks together than be stuck in a room full of intoxicated teenagers," you slammed your locker shut and walked off.

Percy followed after you, "Don't you have the fun vocabulary!!"

"Extensive," you smirked.

"Look, it'll be fun."

"Doubtful."

"Do I need to ask in like, fucking greek or something," Percy pleaded.

"Maybe choose a language you actually know first."

"Μπορώ να μιλήσω ελληνικά μια χαρά," you looked at him wide-eyed. "Why must you continue to doubt me?"

"How do I know you didn't insult me?"

"I don't know, just trust me maybe," you shot up an eyebrow with an amused upside down smile on your face. "όπως είπα, θα είμαι εκεί στις εννιά εντάξει."

"No, to whatever you just said," you chuckled as you headed off to your next class.

﹒º. ౨ৎ

✰ Μπορώ να μιλήσω ελληνικά μια χαρά - I can speak Greek just fine ✰ όπως είπα, θα είμαι εκεί στις εννιά εντάξει - like i said i'll be there at nine ok?

✰Taglist: @liviessun (just lemme know if u wanna be added)

[hunnylagoon]

When I Was Your Girl

Stage Fright

Rockstar! Ellie Williams x pop star! Reader

‘Fame is a poison most would drink happily despite the warning of a slow and painful death’

Premise: You and fell in love as nobodies and fell out of love in the limelight. Now you are forced to deal with ghosts who haunt you like a melody.

Warnings: small mentions of drinking and drugs / wee bit of violence / Ellie is a dick

Fake albums mentioned: Solstice / Smokey Eyes

I've never been anything more than a joke.

I'm so childish they took it for maturity, and I'm so serious they took it for silly.

Even since I began my career, I was spotted at eighteen by a skeezy producer when I sold myself at a strip club to make ends meet, because dreaming never paid the bills. I wish that I had been found somewhere else, maybe one of the restaurants I sang at on karaoke nights or the park where I poured my soul into art through my uncle’s old acoustic guitar. 

"How are you feeling right now?" A tanned woman with slick back hair shoves a microphone into my face while an emotionless man holds the camera. "I mean, seven years in the industry and you've just received your first Grammy nominations."

"I'm feeling kind of freaked out, to be honest," I face the woman with a sheepish smile on my face, trying the best I can not to look at the large camera lurking beside me.

"Rightfully," Her teeth are so white that they almost blind me and I get distracted by myself as I try to figure out whether they are veneers or not. "Do you think you'll be bringing any hardware home tonight?"

She moves the microphone back to my face and I flinch out of instinct, we both laugh for the camera but I can tell she's annoyed "Honestly, I'm just happy to be here, as corny as it sounds it is such an honour to be around so many incredible artists."

"So humble," She smiles then turns to the camera to address the viewers "I think we all know she's gonna be sleeping tonight with a golden gramophone under her pillow," She forces a laugh, trying to capture the raw essence of this overly manufactured moment. The interviewer turns back to me "Now, I know this isn't your first rodeo, is there anyone here you aren't looking forward to seeing, you don't have to name any names."

Fuck I hate these bloodsuckers. She is so obviously trying to milk my broken engagement which was still very much fresh. I uphold my false smile though and shake my head "Nope, if anything I think I'm looking forward to some mingling,"

She looks irritated, covering it up only by a close-lipped smile. "Well, then I'll let you get on with that."

I give her a curt wave and continue my way down the red carpet, maneuvering through other celebrities, we all have common ground, we are blinded by the flashing lights. I try my best to avoid any more journalists but I see Abby Anderson speaking to one and sneak up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.

She turns around and greets me with a huge smile "I was wondering when I was gonna see you," Abby smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders looking to the journalist while I glance at the camera "I'm telling you, this girl needs to clear some space out on her trophy shelf."

I grin at her, genuinely. Abby had always been kind to me, we first met when I was nineteen and the both of us signed up for Atlantic Records. "She's just being nice," I say.

"And she's just being humble!" Abby squeezes me, it's a simple gesture but it means the world to me, it's her way of saying 'I got you'.

I shake my head "Abby is gonna be the real winner tonight."

The man holding a microphone in front of us smiles "We'll see who's right, my bet is both of you," He turns his attention to me directly "So I understand that you took a bit of a break after releasing your album, Solstice, is this considered your comeback?"

"Nope," I smile despite wanting to snatch the microphone from his hand and beat the camera with it until it shatters "There isn't anything to come back from."

He tilts his head giving the over-animated 'Are you serious?' look for whoever is watching. Every journalist was like a vampire trying to bleed me dry. The journalist, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exudes both sophistication and confidence searches his mind for another question "Well your album honestly was such a work of art and there has been talk that you are working on another one, is there anyone here that inspired any of those songs?"

"Nope."

"I think we should ask Ellie the same question," He laughs at his joke like it was funny. 

"And I think we should be heading off now," Abby answers for me and guides me away from the barricade of reporters and journalists, away from the cameras prying into my soul.

As I walk along the red carpet, I don't bother to stop and pose for any more pictures, I pick up the long skirts of my dress and usher myself to weave between the other celebrities. I nearly turn my ankle and take a tumble, wow, sure glad that 30 photographers caught that moment.

I was drenched in a deep, enchanting shade of midnight blue, the gown captivated with its sleek silhouette. The magic shows in the intricate details that adorn the fabric, reminiscent of the cosmos itself. Delicate embroidery of constellations graces the entire dress, forming a celestial tapestry that seems to come alive under the harsh shine of lights. The celestial patterns are meticulously sewn into the fabric, resembling a night sky filled with stars and constellations, creating an ethereal and otherworldly charm. Paired with the constellation dress, I wear a diamond choker and matching teardrop earrings.

I had lost Abby at some point in my little runaway leaving me to get into the auditorium where the award ceremony is to take place. 

Nearly the very second I walk in I hear a man yell my name, he is seated in the second row and it takes an awkwardly long amount of time for him to jog over to me. "Hey, kid!" He grins, hugging me, I don't hug him in return, I just freeze. It was Graham Wilson, I could smell the liquor on his breath.

Graham Wilson was a man who used to write very successful rock songs in his twenties with his band (the majority now deceased), he was nearing his sixties and was the definition of a has-been. I remember when I was a kid and I would listen to him on my iPod; though in recent days he's become known for ridiculous stunts, DUIs and homophobic tweets, even better known for how he found out I was gay and announced that he was no longer homophobic because, in his words 'Those gays can sure write good music' and then thanked me in his tweet, even tagging my account.

His frame carries the weight of a bygone era, specifically his beer belly. His once-lustrous, shoulder-length hair has succumbed to streaks of gray, hanging limply around his face like faded echoes of a rebellious past. Despite the passage of time, a few remnants of the rockstar allure linger - a faint scar above his right eyebrow, a reminder of a wild night in an underground club, and the subtle tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his wrinkled suit jacket.

"Hey, Graham," I give him a tight-lipped smile out of courtesy, in no means do I wish to talk to him. 

"You better win best album tonight," He gives me a hard slap on the back. Every time I see him he acts like we're friends just because he was a judge on a singing reality show that I was on seven years prior.

"I'll try my best," I try to excuse myself but he speaks again.

"I said seven years ago when I saw you on that stage that you were gonna be a star so don't let me down," He points a finger at me and gives me a weird smirk. When he smirks I almost think he's having a stroke until he starts to laugh and reveals his rows of teeth that are beginning to rot from his not-so-subtle drug abuse.

"Okay," I give him a nod and a quick wave goodbye to sneak away and pretend that I didn't converse with him. It seems like I'm early to take my seat, people are still piling in and being ushered to their spots, and seat fillers are standing around sheepishly while they try to take discreet photos of celebrities.

My seat is on the end of row two, right on the aisle, I feel myself split into a grin. If you weren't aware, Who sits where is a major status symbol. And though awards show organizers may deny it, it's awfully convenient to be sitting in the front row or on the aisle if you're about to accept a ton of trophies.

I was shaking with nerves, I got nominated three times and maybe there was hope that I would win at least one category.

When I saw Ellie I almost wanted to hide my face, she walked in with a new girl she slung her arm around, Jesse, Dina, and Cat in tow. I'm thankful to see that they're sitting front row of the opposite section of me and have yet to notice me.

I'm not sure if you have ever fallen in love, dated, gone on tour, moved in together, adopted a dog, written a couple of songs, got engaged, then broken up with someone and had the entire thing be documented publically but it's not the best feeling when you have to be in the same room as them again.

Everything with Ellie used to be so perfect.

The first thing I ever noticed about her were her eyes, her sad eyes. She looked like a puppy that had been kicked around for far too long; neglected and mistreated by whoever was cruel enough to show her such torment. Her eyebrows furrowed like each thought running through her head was a worry.

It's hard to look at her now, I know this girl inside out but we are strangers. 

I liked to pretend that the beautiful girl she was with was just there for show but I knew it was untrue when I saw her snake her hand around her waist just like she did to me. She runs through girls like they're cigarettes, she uses them until they burn out or she grows sick of them.

Two years ago at this very same award show, Ellie accepted Song of the Year for the song she wrote about me, 'Everlong'. She had even invited me on stage during her speech and announced to the world how in love she was with me.

If only I knew I could come to hate someone I used to love to death.

My hate was only solidified when Ellie and the Ashmen dropped their most recent album titled 'Smokey Eyes' just three months after our broken engagement. The entire album was about me and dear god it almost ruined my career.

Ellie had managed to paint me in a horrible light that made me seem like the scum of the earth. She wrote about me having substance issues and overall just sang happily about how much she despised me. Her song 'Me vs Your Friends' wrecked me. After speculation began over that song online, her fans decided that they loathed me just the same as Ellie did; this meant that I was doxxed, sent death threats, had my home broken into, and forced to move.

She wasn't the slightest bit sorry.

I spent the award ceremony dazed out, to be truthful, these types of events were boring. They dragged on for ages and you had to sit through the same generic speeches over and over again of people thanking their parents and producers, I hated both of those.

I watched as Amelia Swan walked on stage, she was a nepotism baby, the daughter of some big-shot director and beautiful all the same. In the glittering spotlight of the grand award show stage, a vision of elegance takes center stage as the next announcer for the evening. A beautiful woman, her porcelain skin seemingly kissed by moonlight, graces the audience with a timeless allure. Her dark, cascading hair frames her face in a sleek, sophisticated manner, accentuating the delicate features that radiate a captivating charm.

Draped in a resplendent pink gown, the fabric sits tight against her slim body. The gown is a masterpiece of design. Its silhouette accentuates her figure with tasteful precision, while the soft hue of pink complements her fair complexion.

"Hello!" She smiles and the crowd begins to cheer "I'm going to cut to the chase because I know all of you are as excited to find out the winner as I am."

Amelia begins to go through the nominees, my breath hitches in my throat when she says my name, though I play it cool the best I can and smile softly when the camera zooms in on me in the crowd.

Her eyes, framed by carefully styled lashes and a hint of rosy eyeshadow, exude warmth and confidence. Lips adorned with a subtle shade of pink curve into a welcoming smile, inviting the audience to share in the excitement of the announcement. 

"The winner of Album of the Year is..." I could've sworn I nearly passed out when Amelia said my name.

Nothing felt real, it was like I was living the dreams that I made up when I was a little girl staying up late in my uncles back yard, talking to the indigo sky and speaking to it with delusions of security and stardom.

I shake when I stand up from my chair. The person next to me hugs me and I don't even know who she is but I hug her in return.

Amelia gestures for me to join her on stage with a huge smile on her face. I make my way down the aisle and up the steps leading to the stage. Amelia handed the statue of the golden gramophone to me along with the microphone to give my speech.

At this moment, the stage is my kingdom "I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win but I'd like to thank my little sister, Marceline, and my late uncle, Richie, god rest his soul. Everything I've done leading me to this moment has been for them, every lyric, every night I'm up till dawn writing. Even though Richie can't be here in person, I carry a little piece of him with me everywhere I go, he's all around me, I see him in the songs I write, in the melody of an acoustic guitar, and in the faces of those gentle enough to show me kindness."

The audience applauds for me, even Ellie who stares me down bitterly. I had sung in front of thousands of people but it would never compare to this moment.

I wipe a tear away from my eye "I would also like to thank all of my fans, you guys are just the fucking best," I giggle through my crying "I feel like you've been sent down by Richie and Marceline I know you're watching me right now, please give my dog some love for me. Please know that I don't come from anything, I was born from dirt and dreams for something more than a ratty town in Canada."

I lived for the applause.

"I mean, I've always been good and never great so this means a lot to me-

Ameilia places a hand on my shoulder to stop me "There was a bit of a mix-up," She announces "I'm sorry, love, you didn't win," She says just to me, dark eyes full of remorse.

"What?" I almost think it's a sick joke.

Amelia holds the microphone to her face to be heard by the audience "I'm not joking," She shows the contents of a card to the crowd "The real winners for album of the year are Ellie and the Ashmen for their album Smokey Eyes." Gasps sound from the audience and I can only imagine what those watching from home are doing

The camera pans to where Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Cat sit, Ellie is laughing; not laughing, cackling, it only grows and now she's laughing so hard she can barely breathe. Suddenly I didn't feel like I was king of the world, it felt like the desolation of a hangover had hit me in the span of 90 seconds.

Dina gives Ellie a harsh elbow to her bicep, telling her to be respectful. The four of them rise from their chairs and make their way up to the stage, where I stand, paralyzed.

"Congratulations," I give Ellie a tight-lipped smile and hand the award off to her.

She smiled smugly at me and took it "Thanks, smokey eyes," Ellie held the statue up to display it. Smokey eyes was a nickname she had given me when we first met since I always had dark circles she said they looked like smoke from a forest fire. I told you that album was about me. What made me more mad is that it was such a stupid fucking nickname.

My mouth goes dry, it tastes like salt and failure.

I take many steps back, trying to hide myself at the back of the stage while I watch the Ashmen bathe in the glory I thought was mine.

"I didn't prepare anything because I honestly didn't think I would win," Ellie begins to mock me "But I'd like to thank my best friends, Dina, Jesse, and Cat, I couldn't have done it without you," She motions at her band members beside her "But I also couldn't have done it without my dad, thank you, Joel, you're out there in the cheap seats but I fucking love you," She waves out into the crowds somewhere before handing the microphone off to Dina.

"I am so beyond grateful-

"No!" Someone yells from the ground and all attention turns to him "This is not fair!" Graham shouts, walking up the stairs. Everyone in the room looks at one another trying to figure out what is going on. Graham snatches the microphone from Dina "I'm proud of you four but listen."

Everyone is silent completely, no one is sure what to do so we let Graham continue.

"I met everyone on this stage seven years ago," He throws one arm out for dramatics "Except for Amelia, I don't know you," Graham is more dishevelled than he was when I saw him earlier that night "Let me tell all of you that Ellie was in love with this girl since the day they met!" Graham points at me, now things are getting weird, well weirder. “I know because I was there and you all saw it on TV!”

It was no secret that Ellie and I were together since we met on Road to Stardom, a singing reality show where people compete for-well, stardom. Every step of our relationship had been very public, not by choice but by unfortunate circumstances. It is for this reason I was afraid of what Graham would spout next.

"Without her, Smokey Eyes wouldn't have ever been written, Ellie would've had no inspiration for it," He babbles "But more so my point is, Solstice deserved to win, Smokey Eyes is mediocre at best!"

People in the audience look genuinely concerned, I spot Abby in the third row. She has one hand covering her mouth from pure shock, her eyebrows are furrowed and she almost looks like she's going to throw up.

 "Solstice is the best album to listen to when you're high off salvia on your bathroom floor!" Graham points back at me.

I see Cat mutter something to Jesse along the lines of "He's not wrong."

"Smokey Eyes has three good songs and Solstice has thirteen!" Graham suddenly stops to turn and look at me, he grabs my wrist "Come up here and finish your speech," I shake my head no but he pulls me up anyway.

I freeze, petrified. My eyes are wide and my lips are pressed together in a thin line. I didn't know what to do. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?

Graham's head suddenly snaps from me to Ellie where he takes an intoxicated step closer to her "Give me that damn award, you don't deserve it, especially not after mocking the woman who inspired it!" He lunges for the statue, at first Ellie is stubborn and holds onto it tight.

After 30 seconds of Graham trying to pry the stature away, Ellie gives up and releases it, figuring it best not to fight with a drunk man; in doing so Graham's elbow flies back from sudden loss of resistance and hits me dead in my nose. I yelp out in pain bending over into a crouch and clutching my nose. Graham stumbles back and trips over me, though he is still holding on tight to the statue.

Jesse approaches him slowly. "Hey, man, It's me, I think we should all just settle down and talk this through," He tries to act cool but his eyes are full of worry "I agree, I think Solstice is a great album and it really deserved to win."

Graham clumsily rolled onto his stomach and then stumbled back onto his feet. He was staring Jesse down like this was the Wild West.

Dina rushed over to me to make sure I was okay "Let me see," She gingerly moved my hands away from my nose, it had been knocked crooked and blood was pouring down to my chest where it pooled at the neckline of my dark dress.

Graham chucked the golden gramophone at Cat who jumped back when he did so and took a swing at Jesse who didn't move an inch or even shudder from his drunken punch. It also didn't help Graham that he was a solid four inches shorter than Jesse. Just as Graham was hyping himself up to send another hit, two bulky men grabbed either of Graham's arms and dragged him off the stage and out of sight.

I went home that night with nothing more than a broken nose, and no award but I could rest knowing that night went down infamously in history. My blood dripped onto the stage of the Grammys.

That was the night I truly became famous.

Grade eight- Age thirteen 

Middle school is hard.

Even harder when you have two friends, one of them is a guy who is obsessed with Star Wars and is hardly at school because he's always having an allergic reaction, and the other friend is my English teacher. I ate lunch in her class while he graded schoolwork on days that Milo was too sick to show up for school.

I never understood why kids are so fucking mean. Like sometimes I'm having a good day and then I remember when I sang at the middle school talent show.

Some kid who was destined to have a blunt in his hand finished doing tricks on his skateboard rolled off stage and it was my turn.

In the dimly lit auditorium, adorned with colourful decorations for the annual school talent show, I took center stage with my guitar, a blend of excitement and nervousness etched across my face. The hushed whispers of the audience faded as I strummed the first chords, the notes carrying the beginning to the first of many performances in my life

"If you gave me only one wish,

I wouldn't want to feel this way.

They told me I'd have your memory

But all I want is you to stay

And I can't stop my mind from haunting me,

It's like a scar on a butterfly's wing,

I wanted you to know."

I had worked tirelessly to perfect the lyrics to my first ever song, begging my uncle who was far more practiced for his input. This was way back when I still lived in fuck ass nowhere Alberta, I had that country twang in my high voice though it carried a specific tenderness.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do.

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain

This beautiful pain for you."

However, as I sang my little heart out, a different melody began to play in the background - the snickers and hushed comments of some classmates who couldn't appreciate the vulnerability I laid bare on the stage. Their laughter, like discordant notes in a once-harmonious piece, reverberated through the auditorium.

"If I sailed the world on stormy seas

Chasing sunlight that I can't see.

I was a dreamer here before,

Before I woke up and fell to the floor

And I'd climb to heaven if I could find you,

Even with a scar this butterfly flew.

I wanted you to know."

I spotted one group in particular, they hated me already and this would give them all the more reason to bully me.

"This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day, these bones will heal

And they'll leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything if it's the last thing that I do

This beautiful pain, this beautiful pain, this beautiful pain."

Maybe the lyrics were the slightest bit corny but I was thirteen and these girls were being little cunts. I bit back the tears I so clearly wanted to release when I saw a teacher had to walk over to the group of girls to stop their laughing. It wasn't just that one group though, kids scattered all over were fighting back giggles and that made it hurt all the worse.

"And all I'll ever need

And all I'll ever be,

Within every part of me is this,

This beautiful pain that I feel is all because of you

And one day these bones will heal

And leave me with the truth

And I'll give you everything 'cause it was all I ever knew.

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

This beautiful pain,

For you."

As the last note hung in the air, the room was divided. Some applauded, recognizing the authenticity of my performance, while others continued their derisive comments. So the majority who liked my singing were teachers, but that didn't matter, at least my music got through to someone.

The rest of the day was even more difficult than my three-minute performance, at least that was over quickly but the comments from Kennedy and her friends left me leaving school in tears.

I didn't go home that day, I walked the extra ten minutes to get to my uncle's house. Lugging my guitar and newfound hate for music with me. The façade, adorned with a mismatched collection of potted plants and a welcoming, hand-painted sign that read ‘Home Sweet Home’ hinted at my uncle's efforts to infuse joy into his surroundings. The paint on the wooden shutters might have faded, but they held stories of many seasons gone by. The roof, patched with a variety of materials, showed the resourcefulness of my uncle in their attempt to shield the interior from the whims of weather. 

He tried to make the house look nice for me and my little sister. He was by no means rich in money but rich in what mattered, the love he had for me was overflowing.

It wasn't a particularly nice neighbourhood either, his house was small, with two bedrooms and a basement I wasn't allowed in. But every time I think of the chipped blue walls, I feel a warm sense of nostalgia run down my spine.

"Who's there?" I hear Uncle Richie call from the kitchen where he is cooking something.

"Just me," I yell back, dropping my guitar case on the ground and belly-flopping onto his old brown leather couch that had more tears in it than I could count; he had tried to stich some of them up with embroidery floss but ultimately gave up, deciding to let it be since he couldn't afford to replace it.

"Why aren't you at your mom's, Chickadee?"

"I don't wanna see Mom right now, she's gonna put me in an even worse mood," I call back grabbing the TV remote off of the water-damaged coffee table.

"What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Minutes later Richie walks into the living room to join me, he carries a bowl of Kraft Mac and cheese with two forks shoved in it, he taps the bottom of my socked feet, signalling for me to move them so he can fit on the couch with me. Uncle Richie has a buzz cut and beard stubble that I have never seen him without, he has never been seen without a flannel on, not as long as I've been alive. What I remember the clearest about him though was the scar beneath his right eye, when I was younger he would tell me that he got it from a pirate though I stopped believing that. "So are you going to tell me why you're sulking?"

I ignore him and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off "Hey, I watching that," I mutter.

"Well I'm waiting for you to answer me, Chickadee," He tilts his head "Or you won't get any kraft dinner."

"I sang at the talent show today."

"And?"

"Everyone made fun of me."

He furrows his eyebrows "Why would they do that?"

"Why do you think?" I snark "Because I'm not good enough and I'm a bad singer and I have a shit guitar." I immediately regret my words. Uncle Richie was the one who gave me that guitar, it was all he could manage with his income, it was his back when he had dreams of his own but he fixed it up so I could pick up where he left off. The guitar itself had a cracking between the face and the side that was being held together with duct tape, not to mention the whole thing was basically reinforced with superglue and there were Sharpie drabbles on it of poems and potential songs Richie started that I will be sure to finish.

"This is the best guitar in the world," He reaches behind the couch where I left it slugs the case onto his lap and opens it to showcase the guitar "Because it's full of something money can’t buy, there is love built into this guitar and every time you play it you feel that love."

"I don't feel love when I play," I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"Then you're not playing right," He smiles, discarding the case on the floor "Did you play the song I helped you write?"

I nod "Kennedy said it was worse than shoving nails into her ears and that my guitar was decrepit and even more fugly than I am."

"Well Kennedy is a little cunt," He answers "Don't tell anyone I said that." His words make me giggle. I watch him intently as he begins to strum some chords on the guitar, the beginning of Beautiful Pain, he stops when I don't sing the lyrics, glancing at me until the words finally fall from my lips.

After the first two Stanzas, he hands the guitar off to me, nodding his head along to my gentle strums.

When I finish the song and strike the last chord, Richie claps a huge smile on his face "Do you feel the love yet?"

"I dunno."

"Then play again," He says "Don't think about those bitchy little girls," His tone is dead serious "You just gave all of those people a free performance, in ten years they are going to be paying hundreds just to get a bad seat at one of your shows and they will buried so far in the back of your mind that you won't even remember their names or all of those awful words they say to you, the only words that will matter are the ones you sing."

"So what do I do?"

"Play music because you love it, it doesn't matter if it takes you anywhere or if it makes you any money. That's why you should play, play for love not greed."

Wordlessly I begin the song over again, blocking out the rest of the world while I softly sing the lyrics. I strum each cord perfectly, my singing to match. I will forever think back to this moment, this is where I can pinpoint the exact second I fell in love with music.

I wrap up the song and Richie speaks up "Do you still want to watch TV?"

I shake my head "Can you help me write another song?" 

-

Sinjinisoverboard: I love love love the new single but does anyone else miss her debut era?????? I feel like she's sold out

     woodmonkey92: Reply to Sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ this is so true, I remember when she would sing in parks and she was actually happy just being herself

     theend_is_n3ar: Reply to woodmonkey92╰┈➤ bruh you don't remember that, she was a nobody when she sang in parks plus she literally got heckled and ridiculed by her classmates so bad that she gave up on singing in public and almost gave up on music as a whole

     user37768638493: Reply to sinjinisoverboard╰┈➤ as much as I love her it really seems like she's fallen off the rails

conner_stoll_it: She's not even the same person anymore. I fell in love her original music and who she was when she wrote it, then she signed with a record label now she's an in-genuine copy of every pop star.

     Alina_b12: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ you fell in love with her old music?? 💀💀💀 she wasn't even past 100 subscribers when she released her debut album and after she released she literally gained 11 listeners on Spotify to get a total of 24 so don't lie and say that you heard it before hearing her mainstream music

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ Her old music was so relatable, she got famous and it’s kind of hard to relate to someone who's net worth is more money then I can even fathom

     hazeinmorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤I think that's why it was so easy for everybody to side with Ellie during the breakup, Ellie kept true to who she is, her girlfriend however did not.

     Luciaisdonewithlife: Reply to hazeinthemorningcraze╰┈➤*fiancé

     hazeinthemorningcraze: Reply to Luciaisdonewithlife╰┈➤ ew don't remind me

     maiya_onthec0ast: Reply to conner_stoll_it╰┈➤ We should remember that no one listened to her when she released her debut music. She said in an interview that before she signed with Atlantic Records she had 24 listeners and 76 subscribers. We only know who she is because of her mainstream music, you aren't better than anyone for needlessly hating on her.

stargirlthesequel: God who else misses the southern twang she used to have in her voice?

      Vampire_empire2: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤LMAO acting like you know her is crazy

      Aline_b12: Reply to stargirlthesequel╰┈➤parasocial relationships are really becoming apparent rn

thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo: It's soooooo annoying when people hate on Solstice for being mainstream like all Ashmen discography isn't top on charters since they dropped their first album

     dancedancerev0lution: Reply to thismightbeskylarwwhiteyo╰┈➤I've been saying this! Ellie has been in the industry way longer, she's always had a big fan base, even when she was still a solo artist!

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to thismightbeskylaarwwhiteyo╰┈➤ Ellie Williams on 🔝

    call_urm0ther: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤ kys she treated her fiancé horribly

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤ how would you know that????? Were you there??????

    follow_kendra88: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was the one who was treated horribly in that relationship, have you even listened to Smokey Eyes?

    ellies_no2girl: Reply to call_urm0ther╰┈➤Ellie was so in love and just got used for fame 🥺💔

     call_urm0ther: Reply to ellies_no2girl╰┈➤fuck off with your cringe ass emojis

sorryyileft___:You guys are so weird for saying Ellie was used by her ex for fame, they literally were on the same show at the same age at the same time and got thrown into the limelight at the same time, Ellie and the Ashmen just got more popular.

   mybodyisacage: Reply to sorryyileft___╰┈➤Ellie had a bit of a YouTube presence before she was on Stardom, it wasn't a crazy number but it was a cult following and that's why she won Stardom, bc she had fans to begin with then gained even more after being on national television

    elliespurplemonster: Reply to mybodyisacage╰┈➤She didn't win bc of following she won bc she's a good artist

    mybodyisacage: Reply to elliespurplemonster╰┈➤I never said she wasn't

bodhi_van34: I thought the whole thing at the Grammy's was an act until I saw all those news articles about Graham Wilson getting arrested

  carlyswarly: Reply to bodhi_van34╰┈➤They did a drug test when he got arrested and found coke in his system

    may0mayyyo: Reply to carlyswarly╰┈➤A busboy who worked the event said that Graham was doing cocaine in the bathroom

   body_van34: Reply to may0mayyyo╰┈➤ LMAO WTF 

charlotte_5freakingdidit: EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ELLIE WILLIAMS BEING MEAN TO HER EX BUT GRAHAM WILSON LITERALLY ASSAULTED A POPSTAR ON STAGE AND TRIED TO THROW HANDS WITH JESSE LMAO IM DIFFUSING

juliaa__stirling: The way Ellie was laughing when Amelia said she messed up the cards was so rude and immature. Her fans are insane for defending her. All of that just because her ex fiancé gave a speech about working hard, imagine how she felt after being so honest with everyone just for her to not actually win and think about how she feels now reading all of these posts.

botoxangel: Celebrities have feelings too, Amelia made a mistake she's probably embarrassed but not as embarrassed as that poor woman is for putting her soul into a speech just for her ex and all of her fan girls to ridicule her for a mistake that wasn't even hers.

    karaleaah778: Reply to botoxangel╰┈➤exactly! And why are people blaming Amelia??? She was given the envelope by someone else, she genuinely thought her friend won.

carlosislost: Why is Graham even invited to these events?????????

katie_katelynsm1th: Reply to carlosislost╰┈➤Bc it's funny when he causes a scene

howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad: I know you guys think this Grammy situation is so funny but it's really not. Graham is clearly mentally ill, this is a cry for help.

   elleryc3llery: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeingsad╰┈➤Dude it's hilarious

  3emmettttt: Reply to howto_nevrst0ppbeing sad╰┈➤The way you're worried about the has been and not the girl whose nose he broke

allysaaaa663638: LMAO THE WAY SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WON THE AWARD AND SHE DESERVED IT SHDBDBEGHWWBSV

jessicadacoolest: Ellie is so real for laughing bc I would've done the same tbh

hennyrumwine: Dumb bitch deserved to be hit lollllllll

4444carmencarmen4444: I love the Ashmen's music but I hate Ellie sm, I just feel like she's a fuck girl and she gives me very rude vibes. Like laughing at her ex and then mocking her heartfelt speech is INSANE anyways stream Solstice

sittingwaiting_wishing: I honestly have hated Ellie since the breakup, she's changed so much since then. She used to be funny now she's just mean.

carissaandher_h0ttakes: I still think it's kind of crazy that Dina and Jesse followed through with Ellie on Smokey Eyes because they were really close to her when she was engaged to Ellie, can't imagine how many ties that album severed

    elliessmokeyeye: Reply to carissaandher_h0ttakes╰┈➤I think about this all the time! She was literally the god mother for Dina and Jesses kid

     carissaandher_h0ttakes: Reply to elliessmokeyeye╰┈➤it make me think that she might've done something to them to make them hate her the way Ellie does, Ellie did say that she didn't write all of the songs for Smokey Eyes 🤔🤔🤔

"Do you see how this backlash doesn't look good for anyone?" My agent, Caroline asks after showing me several Twitter posts that are under the trending tag.

"Well, it's not really my fault."

"Nonetheless, I think It's time for a rebrand." She sets her phone face down and looks at me from across her desk "Do you remember when you went on tour with the Ashmen when you were around twenty-one?"

My eyes go wide, I'm already shaking my head "Please-

"This is an awful event that you can turn into an amazing opportunity and capitalize on it," The backdrop behind Caroline is almost blinding, it's an annoyingly hot LA day and I want nothing more than to be back in Canada and swimming in lakes with my little sister.

"Caroline, mentally I can't handle a tour with Ellie."

"Mentally, you're gonna have to," She says, getting stern "Your fans either hate each other or they love both of you and feel like their parents have divorced."

I know that I will argue with Caroline for the next hour and threaten to fire her but eventually, she will win, so until then I am preoccupied with thoughts of everything but Ellie, soaking in the last moments I will have until she envelopes my brain and suffocates me from the inside out.

I am sure that with Ellie, I will die before winter comes and I am doubtful that I will ever bloom again.

[sl-ut]

Wait a sequel to the drunk reader partying fic drabble thing where abbys trying to get you to drink water and you're refusing and arguing with her in your drunk state insisting you're fine LMAOOO (you're not)

party girl

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: the cheer team won nationals, and they’re ready to party. only problem is, there’s a team-only pregame, which means abby can’t keep track of how much her girlfriend has to drink.

warnings: alcohol consumption, reader is VERY drunk in this, some creepy men (ew always), making out, femme reader, cursing, i was sorta rlly high when i wrote this sorry excuse any badness

words: 1.2K

date posted: 06/04/24

more college!abby

it's quite rare for abby to go to a party without her girlfriend. in fact, abby typically only goes as a formality, but she likes when her girl makes an effort to come with her. unfortunately for her, the cheer team decided that they would be having a squad-only pregame, which meant that abby would be wrapped into driving her drunk friends around before (and probably after) the party. at least she was getting a pretty steady stream of snaps from her girl throughout the night, but as soon as she starts getting the ones from nora, she gets worried.

they're all videos of y/n shotgunning, funneling, and demolishing lines of shots in record time. normally, she wasn't very possessive over her girlfriend, but she knew from their very early relationship that y/n could not handle her liquor, so she knew she was in for quite the treat when she got there.

but she could not have imagined what she was about to see the moment she walked into the crowded house. it took her a moment to truly realise what kind of spectacle could have caused every frat guy in a mile radius to flock together so wildly, until she realised that her girlfriend was swaying to the music atop the kitchen table, her skirt hiked up over the meat of her thighs and she didn't even seem to be aware of it.

abby quickly pushed her way through the crowd of boys, roughly shoving one of the ones at the front who had been attempting to angle his phone to get a proper up-skirt shot. y/n's eyes popped open at the sound of her name, an excited grin appearing on her face as she all but leaped off of the table and into her arms (thank god for all those muscles).

she laughed as her girlfriend practically wrapped herself around her, pressing sloppy kisses against the side of her face.

"heyyyy baby," y/n smiled drunkenly up at her, "i've been waiting for you."

"seems like it," abby laughed, "you having fun?"

"more now that you're here," she leaned up to kiss her, and abby almost gagged at the taste of every alcohol she could name on her tongue. "we won today."

"i know, i was there. you were so so so good, beautiful."

"mhm," y/n smiled, "i love winning. i feel like such a winner right now."

abby was the first person to understand the feeling, it was the exact same rush of confidence she felt in her own veins after her own games. she had been excited to take to the stands this time around, watching and cheering for her girlfriend in the same way that she had always done for her.

"you are a winner, baby."

she fluttered her eyelashes at her, "and i can't wait for you to give me my reward later."

"reward?" abby asked, feigning innocence.

"oh please, i know you could tell what i was wearing under here," she pursed her lips, fingers tugging at her dark red bra strap, "if you aren't gonna give me my reward, i guess i'll have to take it for myself."

abby shook in head in disbelief, "you're gonna have to sober up some if that's what you were wanting."

y/n leaned in to tug abby's reddening earlobe between her teeth, "no matter how sober i get, i'll still be drunk on you baby."

"oh, that one was bad," abby tilted her head back as she laughed, one hand coming down to grasp at her girlfriend's lower back, "you're cheesy when you're drunk."

"what, are you lactose in tolerant all the sudden? maybe i'll have to find someone who likes my cheese."

abby gripped her hips, "okay, okay, i'm sorry. you know i love your cheese."

"i know," y/n grinned, "you can make it up to me by dancing with me."

abby nodded, "that i can do."

she allowed her girlfriend to lead her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, easily pressing herself into her back and holding her hips as she moved her hips into hers. she was happy enough to just sway side to side, let her girl do all of the heavy work as she ground her ass into her groin with one arm slung back and around abby's neck, holding on for dear life as the blonde began pressing kisses along the side of her throat.

y/n's body tipped to the side the a hard push, both of their attentions being turned to the tall brunette who scowled down at y/n with a mean stare.

"watch it, bitch."

abby doesn't even remember moving, just taking hold of the front of the girl's shirt in her fist, pulling her close and breathing her own warning into her face. y/n watched in amusement as the brunette shrunk at the threat and moved as quickly through the crowd as possible. y/n laughed with glee, hugging her girlfriend tightly.

"you are so so so sexy when you get protective over me."

abby took her by the hand, pushing her ahead and guiding her by her hips to the kitchen, where they were quickly recruited to join nora and manny in a game of beer pong. abby reassured her girlfriend by promising to grab her a new drink (it was just a coke), and snickering behind her hand at how oblivious her girlfriend was to her scheming. once the cup was empty, abby changed her tactic to offering her girlfriend shot after shot of water under the guise of vodka, laughing to herself when her girlfriend commented on how drunk she must be if it wasn't burning her throat so badly.

after winning the game, y/n decided that it was time to sneak away with her girlfriend to the bathroom, where she made quick work of her top as she made a rather sloppy seduction attempt. abby had to use every ounce of her self control to push her hands away as y/n tried to unbuckle her belt.

"c'mon baby," abby groaned as she felt her hot tongue drag across her collar bone, the first few buttons of her shirt having been undone the moment that the door had been shut behind her, "cut that out."

"what? you don't want me?" she whined.

"i do, believe me i do," she groaned, taking her hands in her own and forcing her to look at her, "but not here, and not while you're this drunk."

y/n groaned, "sometimes i hate how good of a person you are."

abby chuckled and kissed her on the cheek, "i know, i know, me too. now let's get some water into you because i do plan on giving you that reward tonight."