#Izz’s other stuff

[izanallu]

I MADE A PORTABLE PAINTER MODEL FOR MINECRAFT YAYYY

I’ll put a link to the files as well as a tutorial on how to set everything up here too!

Everything is in here!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1023esG_PjtFyeQ4IX4PHDQfHGWfvcFPf7vsq7oMWMaI/edit

Everything on my character is modelled after my avatar on roblox :]

[strangeite]

[ID: First image is a screenshot of tags that say #i scream from the rooftops every day and i say Astrid Will Never Be Able To Forgive Caleb For Just. Getting Out #like functionally from her perspective. it was just that easy for him. she had to live those 11 years. #not that caleb Had It Easy but like. in her eyes. #you get it.

Second image is a collection of screenshotted tags from various people that say #astrid becke #caleb widogast #it goes both ways too! #Astrid is who Caleb wanted to be #he wanted that #be wanted to be Trent's no. 1 #'race you to the top' #but Caleb changed #if he hadn't gotten out then that would have still been true when they crossed paths again #it's so delicious #the 'I love you so much that I hate you and I hate you so much that it's love' #caleb knows what an awful person he almost grew into so looking at astrid is not a shock #But astrid looking at caleb has to confront that her life didn't have to be the way it turned out #there is love and there is resentment and they do not cancel each other out

/end ID]

look me in the eyeballs. astrid and caleb (imo wulf is a slightly different story but that's another post) are textually, canonically narrative foils. i think a better, less literary term-y way to put it is that they're variations on the same person. like. canonically. astrid is caleb if he didn't fail the training. caleb is astrid if she got out. they're like if you took one person and laid out two seperate options on how they would react to a major life-changing incident (hmm. i wonder what that might be in this context). astrid. caleb. they look at each other and see themselves. caleb is alright with this. astrid was holding on for her life for a little bit, trying not to lose her shit, because. he is who she would be if she was free and she figures that out during c2 yknow. caleb always knew that he was almost astrid so he just had to. like. look at this woman he loves dearly and fucking. wretchedly. and cope with the fact that 1. he loves her 2. she's awful 3. she could be so much better than she is 4. she's too far gone for that. but he's been coping for a long time, and she's not unreachable she's just. she's never gonna be him. meanwhile she has to grapple with the fact that she will never be as free as him- i don't know if she really wants to be, but he's proof that her life didn't need to go the way that it did and that's brutal. anyway. they're the same guy. it is so so important to consider that in relation to the dynamic they have going on. is this mic on

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2024 Good Omens Fanfiction

Welcome to my list of the best Good Omens fanfiction I’ve read in 2024! These are my favorites of all the novels, short stories, and series I’ve read this year, and they’re the ones I have or am most likely to read more than once. There’s so much amazing talent in the Good Omens fandom, and I will never be able to read every great story, but I’m happy to have found these fantastic works. (FYI, I added up the word counts of all the stories on this list, and it’s over three million!)

First of all, if you haven’t read the stories on my 2023 Best Of list, be sure to check out the amazing works there. There are a lot of older classics, like Or Be Nice, Slow Show, and Pray For Us, Icarus and some stories written after season two released, like Factory Setting and Married At First Sight. 

Secondly, here is the entire list of every recommendation I’ve made in 2024. There are far more great stories than can fit in a single year-end list. I’ll be unpinning that list and pinning up a new one next year.

Last year, I was able to split my list up more evenly into canon adjacent/compliant and human AU. This year, I read a wider variety of stories, many of them quite long, and more series. I’m splitting the list into three categories: canon, human AU, and non-human AU. There's no order or ranking to the list; they were mostly just added as I read them.

There are also no WIPs here; all of the stories are complete. The series are also complete at the time of this list or are a series of standalone shorts that don't need to be read in order. My preferences lean toward funnier, lighter stories and are often heavy on plot. If you’re looking for dark stories with a lot of angst, you won’t find as many here as other blogs might recommend. It’s not that some of these don’t have dark, sad moments or moments of angst, but Aziraphale and Crowley must have a happy ending, and I prefer stories that don’t make me cry or cause a lot of stress.

If you like these stories, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for the authors! 

If you hit that "Keep reading" button, strap in! This is a very, very long post.

Canon

They’re still angel and demon. I’m counting Reverse Omens in this category.

The Seventh Prince of Hell (56K; Rated M) by @evilasiangenius

Reverse Omens. This is actually part of a series, but I’ve only read the first book, so I’m not listing it as a series. Aziraphale is the Seventh Prince of Hell. His animal aspect is the octopus. Crowley is an ordinary angel. Both are assigned to Earth. They have adventures!

Genesis 3:(-7)-5.5 -7   And they assembled all the Lords, the Princes of Hell into a congregation together sometime after the seventh day, but not on a day of rest because even the Dark Council has a day off. -6  When it came to pass that all grew weary of the powerful pointing presentations, Lord Beelzebub spake with a loud voice, saying unto them, One of uzz brotherzz muzzt go to Earth as Hell’s Represzentative and thwart the doings of Heaven; there izz no choice now that the Almighty has created humanzz. Who amongzt uzz shall take up the project? It comezz with a great deal of extra paperwork, much travel, and no overtime pay. And we shall not reimbursze anything and there shall be no per diem. [...] -3  And of the seven Princes of Hell, three stepped forward, and only three; not two nor five, which are the other prime numbers near three and definitely not one, which is not a prime at all but the unit. The first was the Second Prince, who is called Asmodeus and is a demon of lust. The second was the Seventh Prince, who is called Aziraphale and is a demon of collecting stuff. And the third was the Fourth Prince, who is not worth talking about because they only appear in this one scene and for no other reason than to have three characters. I think that Prince is the demon of executive dysfunction or erectile dysfunction or something like that. Maybe both.

***

Nice And Ominous: a reluctant eschatology of the Second Attempt (series) (117K; Rated T/E) by @e-rated-beardo

A three-part, post-s2 series with gorgeous art by the author. Part I is Crowley’s POV as he deals with the loss of his angel. Part II is from Aziraphale’s POV as he tries to stop the Second Coming and deal with the loss of his demon. Part III is the thrilling finale (and the happy ending). Expect a lot of angst but great characters and plot.

It was a shit day. All the days had been shit, and there had been rather a shitload of them so far. Tucked away in a disused corner of a car park in a retail park in Croydon, a lanky man cracked his eyes open and scowled out the side window of his car. There were raindrops hitting the glass and clouds massing towards the eastern horizon suggested a storm was on its way. He had slept uncomfortably across the front seats for a good amount of time (it didn’t much matter what exact amount), and despite the car being a vintage and exceptionally attractive specimen, nobody had paid it much mind—and the few people who had had the idea to come over and have a look at the ostensibly abandoned vehicle had all suddenly realised how much they actually needed to go buy a sofa or something at that Ikea over there, right about now, in fact. Untangling his various limbs, the man in the car—who wasn’t exactly a man, as such, but close enough for government work—reluctantly sat up, his boot brushing against one of the empty bottles on the floor. He had neglected to sober up before going to sleep.

***

Too Hot for Heavenly Handling (2.4K; Rated E) by @hollybennett123

Crowley says yes to returning to Heaven. The two enjoy three fornication-fueled weeks before they’re hauled before the Metatron and the other archangels for a disciplinary hearing. Rating-aside, there’s not any actual sex in this story. It’s implicit; not explicit.

I’ve read this story more times than I can count (ok, it’s seven). I nearly choked the first time I read it, because I was laughing so hard. Every sentence is a gem. The timing of the jokes is impeccable. There’s not a single bad line in this entire piece. 

“No angel shall pretend to be of a lower status than their actual ranking,” Aziraphale reads aloud. “What does that have to do with — ohhh,” he says, wide-eyed, remembering their ongoing little roleplay. Crowley, an angel of the lowest ranking in their little game, seeking favour from an Archangel; offering to service him in secret so he might earn a series of Heavenly promotions. It had been jolly good fun, actually. “Misuse of Heavenly furniture,” the Metatron continues. “One count. Again, the actual number is unknown. Quite frankly, no one here is willing to research it further to gather any more evidence than the minimum required to bring you before this Council.” Looking back, Aziraphale’s desk has seen quite a bit of action in recent weeks. And the chair. The walls, too, if they count.

***

Aziraphale’s Diaries (series) (11K; Rated T) by @fellshish

A series of standalone fics written as Aziraphale’s diary entries. They don’t need to be read in any order. All of them are fantastic, but I probably laughed the hardest at “Adventures of a mystery shopper in the bookshop.” Aziraphale decides Crowley must be bored after the Nomageddon and in need of work and decides to “let” him take care of his bookshop while he’s away, but then he worries the demon might sell some of his books.

29 August 2018 I’ve informed Crowley I’ll be going away for about three weeks, to perform an exciting and complicated blessing abroad. In reality, I’ve booked the Ritz for myself, where I’ll be forced to act human and eat breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Anything to keep a close eye on Crowley!   30th August 2018 It’s my first day away. I decided to go by the bookshop in an “old and confused man disguise” so I could look through the window. I was just in time (a three hour window between lunch and afternoon tea at the Ritz) to see him read the letter I’d posted a few days ago so it would arrive just as I’d left.  It was cleverly addressed “To the owner or the current guardian of this bookshop”. I used all my knowledge of humans, gathered via the cleverest of ways (a lot of reading), to write it. 

***

A Special Place In Hell (50K; Rated T) by @hotcrosspigeon and @mirach

When Adam shifted reality and caused Satan to disappear, the nearest supernatural entity became the new King of Hell. As it so happened, a certain angel was standing just a little closer than his demon.

Aziraphale, while not Falling, becomes the new ruler of Hell and must navigate Hellish politics, find a role for the love of his life, and maybe bring some proper tea time to the infernal realm. I stumbled upon this story purely by accident one night, and it was a pure joy to read. It’s one of those stories I wish was a series, because I could read so much more in this world.

"Hello, Crowley, my dear fellow. I would like to discuss a certain issue with you. You see, I somehow got into a very peculiar predicament..." Aziraphale sighed in frustration, pacing in his bookshop. "No no no, that sounds like I got my hand stuck in the sweets vending machine again." He cleared his throat. "Hey Crowley, what's up? Better sit down because I have some news to tell you... And by some news I mean... errr..." The angel groaned. "Oh Heavens, there's just no proper way to say this. Ugh, come on, Aziraphale, buck up! You just need to get to the point, that's all. Say the things as they are. No going in circles around the matter. Nice and accurate, right. Just tell him..." He turned at the sound of the bookshop doorbell. "Hello Crowley! Nice weather, isn't it?" "Wha..?" Crowley raised an incredulous eyebrow over the top of his sunglasses, a drop of water running along the edge of his nose. His red hair was plastered to his forehead. He turned to look out the window, jerking a thumb at the onslaught of vicious hail and rain that pelted the glass and plinked against the pane. "Oh, ha ha , very funny. It's bloody bucketing down, angel! I legged it in here before I got clonked on the head with a hailstone the size of my fist." He stopped and frowned at the angel in concern. "Er... you all right? You're looking a bit peaky."

***

Flowers From Hell (42K; Rated T) by @entanglednow

Crowley creates a hybrid demon flower that turns out to be a little more than he intended. This was such a sweet, beautiful story of found family and love, and you’ll absolutely fall in love with Ivy and want to do everything to protect him.

There's a low, quiet rustle from the atrium, where Crowley keeps his finest plants. The beautiful and often terrified rows of them are always so tall and glossy, and fantastically well maintained. Aziraphale regrets that he hadn't taken more of an interest in Crowley's hobbies. It wouldn't have been too difficult, he imagines, to seek out rare specimens to offer the demon. When he's been given so many long sought after volumes, and unpublished manuscripts in turn. Perhaps he could encourage Crowley to open up more, with a few well thought out questions pertaining to his plants, and their various needs. He knows Crowley has been absorbed in a special project recently, he'll make a point to ask about it today. Aziraphale heads into the stretch of greenery, following the tap of feet on tiles, and the quiet swish of foliage. He catches a flash of red hair at the end of the room, behind a messy spray of deep green leaves, then another flash, of what might be the long, pale curve of a shoulder. "Crowley?" The whole room smells damp, thick with fresh soil and crushed plant matter, and it grows stronger the deeper in Aziraphale ventures. He's sure the room wasn't quite so large before, it's clearly been expanded since he visited last, a deep bed of soil is now packed at the back of the room. "Crowley." Aziraphale eases a large spray of damp leaves aside. "I hope I'm not too early, I was -" Crowley is standing by the far wall, carefully touching the valley in the middle of a large leaf with curious, repetitive motions. He's also quite naked. It's - it's unexpected to say the least.

***

Time Marches Forward (129K; Rated M) by @bellisima-writes

While Aziraphale is in Heaven trying to thwart the Second Coming, Crowley is trying to help a frightened 15-year-old Adam learn to deal with his powers. I consider this the definitive S3 (even having written a post-S2 myself), regardless of what the upcoming finale gives us. Every character is wonderfully fleshed out. The plot is intriguing. I read it as fast as humanly possible, barely stopping to do anything else.

Crowley felt the air in the Bentley shift slightly. “What are you doing here?” Crowley jumped in shock, hitting his head on the roof of the Bentley so hard his sunglasses fell off. Adam was suddenly in the passenger seat, studying him cautiously. “Hey! You can’t just come into my car, uninvited,” Crowley hissed, grabbing his glasses and placing them back on his face. He realized he was still slouching, making Adam appear much bigger than he was. He sat up straight and crossed his arms in an attempt to look more intimidating and less drunk. He wondered if it was wise to try and glower at the Antichrist. “He can, actually,” Pepper said from the back seat. Crowley turned and snarled as he noted the three other teenagers in his car. Wensleydale and Brian sat beside her. “He can do anything.” “Yeah well, that may be so but that doesn’t make it right. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should,” he looked Adam directly in the eyes as he said this, assuming no one else around him would ever be so blunt. “What are you doing lurking around my house?” Adam asked again plainly. Crowley’s glowering was not working. “Ngk. I didn’t come to see you, if that’s what you're asking. I’m as shocked as you are to find myself here. I was asleep for a few days. The bloody car did it; blame it for the lurking”

***

The Last Angel (162K; Rated E) by @bellisima-writes

Crowley's been Hell's Grand Inquisitor for millennia now. Ever since the Apocalypse, he's managed to carve out a relatively cushy life for himself. Hell won the War, Angels were essentially eradicated and all human souls were Satan's. Everything was fine. Until one day he hears a rumor that the Last Angel in the universe was finally captured. Until Beelzebub is suddenly ordering him to get information from said Angel, information that's critical for Hell's survival. Until the moment he first locks eyes with the last Angel, and everything he's ever known starts to crumble around him.

I can’t come up with a better description than the summary. Much like the author’s previous work, Time Marches Forward, this is plot-heavy, exciting, action-packed, and gorgeous. The characters are detailed and realistic. The plot sings. And you won’t see the surprise until it’s already there.

“What kinds of rumors?” he asked, shifting in his seat to properly face Eric. Words were one thing, but body language was another. As Grand Inquisitor, Crowley learned early on to weigh both when evaluating information shared by a source whose reliability was questionable. Eric was a nice kid, sure. But their reliability would definitely be categorized as questionable . Eric’s mood shifted as they glanced around the corridor. Crowley hadn’t realized how quiet the cells had gotten. The bloody humans were eavesdropping again. He dug deep and pulled up a hiss so loud and laced with demonic power that it rattled every cell door in the entire block. Eric motioned with their hand for Crowley to follow them into a corner and out of earshot of everyone else. As Crowley pulled himself up and started walking he sent searing looks down each row of cells around him. They were all going to have a talk about this later. “What?” he asked when he got close enough to Eric. Still eyeing the cells behind them, Eric leaned in closer and whispered, “Hastur finally found him."

Crowley shook his head. Eric’s shiftiness was starting to annoy him. “Found who?” “The one who killed Ligur. Crowley, Hastur’s finally captured the last Angel.”

***

Kidnapping A Supreme Archangel For Fun And Profit (series) (31K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken

Mostly outsider POV. Four short stories told mostly from the points of view of Agiel, the Supreme Archangel’s assistant, and Kric (Eric with a K), the Grand Duke’s assistant as they try to figure out why the Supreme Archangel is so unworried about all the times he’s getting himself kidnapped by the Grand Duke. In the meantime, the two assistants find that maybe they have more in common than they would have expected, being hereditary enemies and all.

Being Lord Beelzebub's demonic assistant had been easier than overseeing the third circle of Hell. Just stay out of the way, don't make eye contact, not that Kric could, having been blessed with a distinct lack of eyes, and do not talk to the Prince of Hell, unless it was a 'Yes, Your Highness' or... No, that was pretty much it. You did not go around saying "No" to Lord Beelzebub. And of course, just as they had finally grown comfortable in their position, had even found the perfect time to ask for an assistant of their own... There had been a change in leadership. And Kric had found themself serving Crowley. The Original Tempter, the Snake of Eden, the Earth Walker. Kric was not impressed. Flash bastard. And suddenly, they were expected to be in the throne room at all times. To answer when addressed. Proper, actual answer. None of that automatic 'Yes, your Highness' they were so used to. The first time His Rottenness had held up two sashes, before the monthly meeting between Heaven and Hell and had asked which one made his scales look more iridescent and Kric had answered in the only way they knew how... Well, let's just say that hadn't gone well. They had been sent to something called Fashion Week. To better their understanding of clothes and colour theory, something they could sense had been invented by a fellow demon. Lord Crowley, most probably, judging by the way His Wickedness had grinned when he had told them that.

*****

Human AU

Fully human characters. No supernatural/magical elements.

Waking Up Slow (88K; Rated E) by @themoonmothwrites

After both being exposed to covid, strangers Crowley and Aziraphale wait out their isolation together (there’s only one bed!) at a cottage by the sea. This is complete cosycore fluff with just a touch of angst (and a happy ending) near the end. This gorgeous story has stuck with me for so long. If you want something that’s just plain pleasurable to read, this is it.

“Lovely view.” The voice was low, with the slightest hint of gravel, and right next to Aziraphale’s ear. He made an undignified noise and spun round in fright. “Where the devil did you-?” he started, high-voiced, before his foot caught on a stone and he lost his balance. The stranger was standing so close that Aziraphale toppled right into him, and the pair of them went down together in a tangle of knees and a solid thunk to the forehead. “Ow,” the man said, squinting up at Aziraphale, gaze unfocused, before his eyes fell closed. “Oh no!” Aziraphale breathed. “Oh dear. What do I-?” He’d left his blasted phone at the cottage, now of all times when he actually needed it! With an unconscious man lying before him! And it was all Aziraphale’s doing! “I can-- I can-- I know what to do!” he told himself, attempting belatedly not to panic. The best thing to do was not to think too hard. Tipping up the stranger’s chin, Aziraphale pinched his nose and lowered his face until his mouth closed over the other man’s.

***

The Prince’s Consort (142K; Rated E) by @ineffable-toreshi

Aziraphale is the crown prince of a fictional nation. Crowley is a Lily, trained in one of Lucien’s brothels and kept a virgin for the eventual sale to a wealthy master. Against the brothel owner’s wishes, Crowley is purchased by the prince’s adviser, Gabriel, as a companion for Prince Aziraphale. Aziraphale didn’t want a purchased mate, however, and decides to court his new consort the old-fashioned way. 

The description makes this sound like a darker story than it is; it’s actually a really sweet story with only one bad guy (and it’s not Gabriel).

I wrote a much longer review here if you’d like more details.

“I...I was just wondering, my Lord,” Anthony said, nervously nibbling on his lip and twisting his fingers in his lap. “Why did you choose me ?” Gabriel cocked his head to the side. He leaned back, reclining with his arms thrown up over the edges of the bench, and seemed to think about the question. By the time he finally opened his mouth to answer, Anthony was practically vibrating with curiosity.  “There were a few factors,” he explained thoughtfully. “I’ll admit that your appearance was the first and foremost. I prefer women, myself, but I know beauty in a man when I see it. And I’ve seen the types who’ve caught the prince’s eye over the years. I’m quite confident that he will find you more than pleasing, from an aesthetic standpoint.”

***

Keep Digging (7K; Rated T) by Appleseeds

After panicking and losing his nerve trying to ask out Aziraphale, the co-worker Crowley has an enormous crush on, he tells a little white lie that ends up completely spiralling out of control since he can't seem to stop digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. Now he's obtained plans to help him break into a school, inadvertently funded the purchase of explosives, and, knowing his luck, the fake blood will end up permanently staining the tiles. Who knows though, maybe in the end, it'll all turn out to be worth it.

Another one of those stories that are so funny tears stream down my face every time. Even going back through it to find an excerpt had me choking down laughter.

“I actually used to be a music tutor. That was one of the little jokes I liked to tell.” Aziraphale giggled again. Nhhhhh. “Wish you could tutor me…” Crowley muttered under his breath. “Oh! Are you wanting to learn to play a musical instrument?” Aziraphale asked brightly. Crowley’s eyes widened. He wasn’t supposed to hear that. Of course, he wouldn’t have heard it if Crowley had just kept his big mouth shut. “Um. Yeah.” “Wonderful! Which one?” FUCK. How the hell was Crowley supposed to answer that? Whatever he said, he might end up having to get one of said instrument, and he didn’t know much, but he knew musical instruments could be incredibly expensive. There must be something that would be cheap enough to procure if needs be, right? And with that thought, Crowley responded. “The triangle.” Oh Jesus Christ.

***

Temple of the Muses (241K; Rated E) by @ajconstantine

It’s the start of the Season in 1841 Victorian England. Mr Anthony Crowley has left a life of working at a luxurious high end bordello in Paris behind him and is now a courtesan intent on climbing the social ladder in London to increase his status and social connections. After unexpectedly inheriting the title of the Earl of Eastgate, Aziraphale finds himself trying to navigate the complicated world of the aristocracy. Duke Gabriel purchases a month-long contract with Mr Crowley for Lord Fell as a surprise gift to Aziraphale’s astonishment and dismay. He declines to take full advantage of Crowley’s charms but agrees to an arrangement of pretending to be Crowley’s paramour in exchange for lessons on the etiquette and expectations of Society. It’s a practical arrangement, nothing more. Certainly no feelings will be involved...

One of the best, most well-researched stories I’ve read. The historical elements are fascinating, and the world-building is top notch. Set in an alternate 1841 where there’s no stigma on same sex relationships, but same sex marriage is still not allowed. The story alternates between the present time, with Aziraphale and Crowley navigating their growing relationship, and Crowley’s time being trained at one of the most elite bordellos of Paris.

Crowley has a lot of autonomy in this story. He actively chose to become a sex worker. Once he leaves the bordello and becomes a courtesan, he can refuse to sign with a client. And while there are consequences for breaking a contract, a courtesan can walk away from a troublesome client.

“Exactly what position do you think I was hired for?” Crowley interrupted, pulling the shoulder of his robe back up. The Earl looked at him as if he’d asked a ridiculous question. “Valet, of course.” Crowley barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Duke Haven didn’t tell you about me?” The Earl pursed his lips, tilting his head in puzzlement. “Not you precisely. I was at his house last week, and he chastised me when I mentioned that I didn’t have a valet, insisting I needed one even though…” His eyes widened. “Oh no. What… what did you think you were being hired for?” Struck by the absurdity of it all, Crowley fought the strong urge to laugh outright. Instead, he gave the Earl a roguish grin and bowed with a flourish.  “Mr Anthony Crowley, at your service, sir. Duke Haven procured a contract for me to be your... courtesan.” Lord Fell's mouth dropped open as he gaped at him in apparent shock. “You— I—” He floundered, at a loss for words as he looked away from Crowley. His eyes landed on the bed. To Crowley’s growing amusement, the Early actually blushed, red staining his cheeks as he swiftly averted his gaze.  

***

#RAINBOWROAD (series) (407K; Rated T/E) by @nieded

If you haven’t heard of this one yet, you’re one of today’s lucky 10,000. This is one of the best, most well-written human AUs that anyone has produced for Good Omens (or really, of any romance). It’s a three-book, three-short series set in the world of Formula 1 racing. You heard that right. You don’t need to know anything about F1 racing. You don’t even need to like F1 racing. You just need to want to read one of the best romances ever written to enjoy this series.

Ezira Phale is a rookie F1 driver. AJ Crowley is an F1 veteran and an idol of the 25-year-old racer. Everything changes when Ezira meets and falls in love with Crowley, and the older driver (by about 10 years; there’s not a massive age difference here) seems to return his feelings. I wrote a very long review of the series here, so I won’t go into a ton of detail again except to say, if you love human AU, this should be on your list. The author adds notes at the end of the chapters explaining some of the more technical aspects of the sport, or talking about some of the real racers, and it’s fascinating. 

Ezira makes his escape from the after-party after stealing a handful of fig tartlets from the hors d’oeuvres table. He ducks out the service exit before looping back to the front of the hotel. God, he wants to sleep off his tipsiness. It’s significantly cooler at night, and he wraps his arms around his shoulders before slipping inside, making a dash for the elevator. Punching his floor number, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, waiting to be taken to his floor. Then the elevator jerks as someone jabs their hand between the sliding doors, forcing it back open. Ezira lifts his head and glares at the newcomer before his eyes widen, flushing when he recognizes the red hair and black Renault polo. AJ Crowley throws himself into the opposite corner of the elevator and pulls the brim of his hat down. He turns to look at Ezira from under his cap. "Tough luck out there today, huh?" he asks. Ezira frowns and blinks. And because he’s a little drunk and high on adrenaline, he says, "Didn’t you place seventh? I thought that was fucking brilliant." This earns him a snort, and then a bit of stifled laughter. "You can’t say fuck." "You say fuck in almost every interview you do." Not that Ezira has watched every single post-debrief involving AJ Crowley. This makes Crowley laugh harder, and he wipes at his eyes. "You just look like you should be in a painting or something. You’re like a Hummel." Flabbergasted, Ezira stares. His cheeks grow hot when he realizes AJ Crowley is taking the piss. "I don’t even know what that means." Crowley wipes his eye with the back of his hand and then presses his lips together in a feeble attempt to hold back another fit of laughter. "I’m sorry. I’m just very, very drunk, and was not expecting you to say ‘fuck.’ You look like those cherubs from Italy."

***

Lunacy (57K; Rated E) by @snae-b

@snae-b writes some of the best sci-fi GO stories you’ll ever read. This is hardly the only great story of theirs I’ve recommended; it just happens to be my personal favorite. Crowley is the crew chief of a mining operation on one of Pluto’s tiny moons. Aziraphale is a geologist there to study the structural integrity of the moon. But something seems to be alive, something that shouldn’t be there. This is pure psychological horror, the kind of story where you’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s a hallucination. You’ll find definitely NSFW artwork throughout, so take note not to read it around people you wouldn’t want seeing porn on your screen.

Crowley zones out as they continue their conversation. Things had been weird in the mine today. For the past month really. Tech malfunctioning. Batteries draining when they should have been able to hold a charge for days. Half the lights were on the fritz. As if it weren't dark enough in there already. He'd had to trek nearly a mile into Sheol with only the lights on his helmet to repair them. And his crew had their hands full with extraction, so he’d had to do it alone. The darkness really starts to play tricks on you in there. He spent as much time looking over his shoulder as he did working on the lights. Kept thinking that he was seeing something. Something hiding in the shadows. Something that lived in his peripheral vision. As he tugs a beanie on over his head there’s a light rapping on the wall and everyone glances up to the figure in the doorway. “Excuse me, Mr. Crowley. If you have time in your schedule, I really need to discuss the most recent surface scans with you. Could you come by my quarters before dinner?” Crowley sighs as he snaps on his mag boots. “Yeah. Sure thing doc. I’ll be by in thirty.” The scientist only nods before he disappears down the hall. Dr. Aziraphale Fell. He doesn’t wear the standard issue jumpsuits. He wears thick sweaters and wool trousers that look ridiculous with his mag boots. And when he isn’t wearing them, he can hardly get around. Bumps into everything and everyone. He’s never been off planet before and it shows.

***

Miracles on Ice (131K; Rated E) by @henriettarhippo

It’s the “Blades of Glory” AU you never knew you wanted. Crowley and Aziraphale are men’s figure skaters who get banned from the sport after a fight on the podium. Years later, Aziraphale’s coach, Gabriel, suggests the two of them team up to compete in the Olympic’s pairs event. Only problem is, the two skaters hate each other. 

This is very much an enemies-to-lovers story, and Gabriel as their coach and sponsor is the perfect combination of asshole and good guy. He genuinely does care for his two skaters, and he’s generous with his money, but he also has that rich guy attitude of being used to getting what he wants, and he’s not afraid to tell them to stop being dumbasses either.

“Hey angel, was that your routine? Because it looked to me like a lot of swanning about on the ice with a few pirouettes thrown in.” The mocking drawl came from the figure making his way towards Aziraphale on a pair of sharp blades. Clad in skintight black velvet trousers and a black turtleneck adorned with glittering red crystals—to match the striking red curls that stopped at his shoulders—Aziraphale’s skating rival Crowley beamed down at him with a malicious grin. “Also, you’re a bit late. They handed out the women’s medals earlier today.” He pulled down the dark shades he always wore to give Aziraphale a wink. Aziraphale bristled and sat up straighter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That was textbook precision, and I think you’ll find it was the same scores I beat you with last year in Oslo.” “The hotel had a free bar I don’t even remember Oslo,” Crowley said dismissively as he approached the entrance to the rink. He turned back and gave Aziraphale a grin. “But I do remember Boston, and that victory was almost as sweet as the look on your face when you botched that triple loop.” Crowley let out a laugh at the scandalised look Aziraphale gave him. The loudspeakers started up with the first booming notes of a rock song and Crowley hopped up onto the ice and skated away from him before Aziraphale had the chance to reply.

***

Friends Don't (33K; Rated E) by @missunderstoodlyrics

Human AU. Another fantastic enemies-to-lovers by MissUnderstoodLyrics. This is the newest story on this list.

Aziraphale and Crowley are rival advice columnists whose companies are merged. The CEO, Gabriel, tells them they now have to do a joint video podcast together. The snark and bickerflirting are top notch, and this story kept a smile on my face. They have to keep their romance a secret, because the whole schtick of their podcast is their very public rivalry, but it gets harder and harder the closer they become.

Aziraphale attempted to drown his mirth in his wine glass, which was precisely when Crowley decided to position his mouth millimetres from the angel’s ear. “Blair. Have you met him? Worst. Comb-over. Since. Thatcher,” he whispered and then found himself helpfully patting Aziraphale's back as the man choked and spluttered, his cherubic face turning a delightful shade of pink. “Absolute fiend,” Aziraphale managed once he’d caught his breath, but the corners of his mouth were twitching traitorously. Crowley clocked Michaela out of the corner of his eye; she was leaning forward to shush them. Aziraphale escaped her wrath by standing and marching to the stage, his back straight and shoulders squared. He planted himself solidly in front of the microphone and proceeded to destroy what was left of Crowley’s sanity. “I once met a man-shaped snake,” he stated, his gaze firmly locked on Crowley. “Whose snark was taxing to take With swagger and pose He turned up his nose But his wisdom was rather half-baked.”

*****

Non-Human AU

One or both of them are non-human, or have some sort of supernatural abilities (like magic) but aren’t angel or demon. I’m including omegaverse in this category.

Mark of the Serpent (150K; Rated E) by @naromoreau and @summerofspock

Prince Aziraphale is about to be crowned King of Angelhaven when he's taken captive by pirates. When he's sold as a pleasure slave to King Crowley, ruler of the nation readying for war with his, he is forced to keep his identity a secret as he tries to find a way home and keep peace. But not everything at King Crowley's court is as it seems and Aziraphale will have to face machinations of a Royal Court that are far more complex than he had thought. A Captive Prince AU with an omegaverse twist.

The first omegaverse story I genuinely liked, even though Crowley is pretty awful toward Aziraphale at first. Since then I’ve come to enjoy more of them, but this is the one that got me into the genre. This is another one I’ve written a much longer review about here including an explanation for the “extremely dubious consent” tag.

"What about this one?" the omega king asked, eyes fixed on his face, a strange curl to his mouth. "He's an Angel," Hastur sneered. "Pretty, isn't he? We were trying to pick a variety for your majesty to choose from since you didn’t deign to accompany us, but we didn’t find out his origin until after we brought him. He probably doesn't even speak the language." The words manifested in Aziraphale’s mind, and he immediately saw the genius in them. If he didn't speak the language, he could hardly be appealing as a consort to the king. He would be dismissed, sent back to Tracy's, and given time to heal before making his escape. "An Angel?" the king repeated, something passing over his face that Aziraphale didn't like. "What's your name?" "I’m sorry," Aziraphale stammered in Angelic, sticking to his hastily made plan. "I don’t...I don’t know what you're saying." King Crowley smiled and said, in perfect Angelic, "I asked what your name was." "Oh, um, I- you can call me whatever you wish," Aziraphale said, not wanting to risk even a part of his name. The king laughed. "I'm choosing the Angel. Send him to my quarters." "But your majesty-" The omega king turned on Ligur. "You wanted me to choose a pleasure beta and I did. It's done. Were there any other highly important council matters or can I get back to my day?"

***

Saltwater on Skin (186K; Rated E) by @candyqueenblog

Another one with a longer review here. Ezra Fell is an award-winning novelist celebrating the millionth sale of his newest books with his friends and baby brother, Gabriel, on a rented yacht. He falls overboard and washes ashore on an uncharted island, and while awaiting rescue, he gets the strange feeling he’s not alone.

This is a low angst love story between the human and the naga who rescues him, and you’ll fall in love with the island and Crowley’s four sisters. Gabriel is a peach here, much younger than Ezra and very much the caring baby brother. 

And if you’d prefer an Ineffable Wives version of the story, you can find that here. I haven’t read it, but I assume it’s equally good.

Ezra couldn’t stifle the flood of tears as he threw his arms over his head with a scream. Then a pair of rough, but blessedly human hands, covered his wrists. “You… scared?” The stranger’s voice was gravelly, most likely from disuse, but to Ezra it sounded more beautiful than all the angelic choirs. He sobbed in relief. “Oh thank heavens! I thought for sure I was going to-” His words sputtered and died when he opened his eyes to look at his rescuer. It was a man… ...from the waist up. The man’s bare torso was thin, but well defined with long arms lean with muscle. His face was all angles framed by a shock of red hair that curled down his back. His eyes were captivating. They were human enough, save for the iris being the color of spun gold and sliced right down the middle by a slit-shaped pupil. That was about where the human similarities ended. From the waist down the man’s skin melded into a massive snake tail that was wider than Ezra’s entire body and covered in black scales with a red underbelly that matched his hair.

***

FAETED (series) (251K; Rated G/T) by @ineffably-good

The only story in this category that’s not rated E. A three-book, one-short series where Ezra, an English teacher at a public school accidentally ends up in the Fae realms and in the hands of the Unseelie king, Crowley. The world-building is fantastic, and the books use some of the side characters so well, especially Hastur and Ligur, two of Crowley’s most trusted advisers. Crowley is good to Ezra, but he’s spent a thousand years ruling over the chaotic and dangerous unseelie fae, and he doesn’t always know how to handle being in love with a human. And Ezra doesn’t understand the difficult and often prickly politics of the fae, so the two have a lot of misunderstandings to work through. It leads to several fights, but they are usually resolved within the chapter.

The stories are heavy on plot, mostly around the world of the fae, which is one of the things I love most about this series. I could easily read dozens of books set in this world.

Lord Crowley watched as Ezra emerged from the coach, curious to see how this strange mortal would react to his first sight of the Dark Court. Would he blanch in terror? Would he be curious? He didn’t know or understand the creature across from him, but he knew one thing— his reactions, to date, were not what the Prince expected. This was oddly refreshing. It had been so, so long since anyone had managed to surprise him. He watched as Ezra emerged, his fluffy golden hair sticking out in all directions above the dark gray travel cloak he’d donned. He smiled faintly and with studious politeness at the horrifying gremlin who helped him down the steps, brushed the nonexistent dust off himself, and  took in his surroundings. Crowley was gratified to see his eyes widen as he looked around. They were standing in the center of an immense cavern, almost as if a mountain had been hollowed out inside by an immense blast. The rock walls climbed up above them and came together at an unmeasurable distance overhead and were dotted everywhere one looked with cavernous openings, some of which flickered with the light from a fire further inside. Creatures here and there, too murky to make out fully, hovered near the openings of some of them, peering down at the return of their Prince with eyes he could not read. Further ahead, the floor cracked into a massive chasm which ranged across the rest of the cavern and was crossed here and there by rickety-looking bridges. It was lit from below by the light of flames and the scent of sulfur. Stalagmites rose from the floor at irregular intervals, some of them paired with stalactites dropping from the ceiling like large, rocky icicles. Their surfaces glittered here and there with what looked like mica or gems. Crowley watched as Ezra took all of this in at a glance. “Thoughts?” said Lord Crowley, sidling up to him. Ezra turned astonished eyes the color of blue sky to him. “It’s beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like this.” Crowley searched his face for mockery or insincerity but found only earnestness. The Prince felt a tingle of pleasure at this, at least for a moment, until he ruthlessly slammed that feeling down inside himself and returned to his usual sardonic detachment. He hadn’t brought the human here to be his friend.

***

If He’s Your Cleric, Why Is He Putting Me In His Bag of Holding? (300K; Rated E) by @noodlefrog-omens

I read this twice in a row. Literally. I stopped it and almost immediately started it again. I played D&D 3.5 for many years, and I absolutely loved seeing a D&D adventure played out in the GO universe. Aziraphale is the cleric of an adventuring party that stupidly decides to abandon him in the dungeon (you don’t abandon your healer!). Crowley is a very hungry mimic who ends up nearly dying in Aziraphale’s bag of holding before the cleric rescues him. (Look, if you’re going to look like a fancy book, don’t be surprised when the man tries to steal you).

Aziraphale still needs to find his adventuring party again, and the mimic decides to travel along with him. Along the way they find kobolds, a doppelganger, traps, and the obligate dungeon maze, all the while getting to know each other. Aziraphale recognizes his feelings toward the mimic fairly early on, but it takes Crowley longer to even understand what his feelings even mean. 

The porn doesn’t start until chapter 33 (of 40), and only covers maybe three of the remaining eight chapters. You can read the entire adventure and stop once they leave the dungeon if you don’t want any monsterfuckery, or you could skim past the smut to the ending. I don’t know if the author has any plans for sequels, but if he does, I’ll be right there ready.

In that moment, Crowley knew that he had found the right bait to lure this human right to his doom. He waited as patiently as he could while nearly vibrating himself into a puddle, watching as Aziraphale puttered around the room cooing over all the books and scrolls in the room as though they were living creatures. “Just you wait,” Crowley thought to himself, inordinately pleased to have figured out what made this stubborn human tick. “One of them will be.” “There must be centuries’ worth of knowledge collected in just this one chamber,” Aziraphale said in a reverent whisper. Finally, finally he started touching things in this dungeon. He even took his heavy leather gloves off, tucking them into his belt before running a fingertip along the spines of the books chained to the shelves. Crowley watched him take one right off the shelf and thumb through a few of the pages. “We must have walked right by this room. I don’t know why Sandalphon told me there wasn’t anything behind this door. He must not have looked closely enough.” Aziraphale turned his back to the shelves to glance back at the door, and Crowley took his chance to crawl up the side of the bookshelf and arrange himself in front of the chained tomes in pride of place. It wasn’t difficult to change himself into the shape of a book, but this was always about the details. It was an art form. Which books, exactly, had Aziraphale been drawn to? Old ones with leather covers, mostly. Ones with bits of fiddly decoration on the spine. Ones with a bit of mystery. Aziraphale was a cleric, so he was probably interested in talking to the Gods and shite like that, or at least understanding them. That was an angle Crowley could work with. He gave his skin a supple leather texture, inky black and vaguely shimmery in a way he knew would catch the flickering light being thrown out by that sword. Gold edging and lettering crept across his cover and spine, promising divine secrets and cosmic mysteries to anyone who would just reach out and touch. He couldn’t see himself, but Crowley knew that he was a very sexy book right now. Aziraphale would have to be mad not to notice him.

***

Crowley And The Chocolate Factory (55K; Rated E) by @entanglednow

Crowley has to step up for his nephew Adam when he wins a ticket to tour the famous chocolate factories, run by the reclusive and deeply strange Zira Zonka. It doesn't take Crowley long to decide that he wants nothing to do with the man, who's clearly hiding dark and mysterious secrets.

Do you like your Crowley grumpy and cynical? Do you like your Aziraphale weird? Did you think the one thing missing from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory was sex between Wonka and one of the parents in a vintage Bentley? Then this is the story for you!

Crowley doesn’t know what to make of the definitely strange Zira Zonka, but he finds himself drawn to the man nonetheless. The story is set in modern times, but if you know the original (at least the movie version; I can’t speak for the books), you have a general idea of what’s going to happen to the children. 

Zonka releases the arms of his partners for long enough to jerk his cane towards the sky, which erupts in a shower of flower petals and candy - a large proportion of which fall on the immediately excited crowd. Crowley's fairly certain he gets hit on the head by a soft fudge. God, this is humiliating. Zonka dances right and then left while the audience cheers in appreciation. He does another circle, separates from the row to do some unimpressive spins while trying - and failing - to find a good rhyme for liquorice. "My candy emporium has so much in store. Just step right up and walk through the door!" Zonka's gold and white cane snaps up into the air again, this time leaving a burst of light and his name written across the sky in sparkling gold calligraphy. It seems to be a dramatic ending, Crowley certainly hopes it's a dramatic ending. "Half of those lines were a stretch," he complains, but quietly and mostly to himself, because the audience seems to have found the whole thing captivating, Adam included. "And there's only five kids, not six, he can't even count." The Erik's all unlink arms, to thunderous applause from the crowd behind him, and Zonka gives the widest grin Crowley has ever seen. His hands flung on his hips, like the world's most enthusiastic children's entertainer. Crowley half expects him to ask who wants to see a magic trick. "How has this man possibly managed to stay out of the limelight for twenty years?" he wonders. "Or twenty minutes."

***

Villainous (217K; Rated E) by @ineffablepenguin

Once Upon A Time… There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely. The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends. Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…

This is one of those stories a lot of people recommend for good reason. It’s a fantastic fairy tale full of love and romance between two people who seem destined for one another. The writing is gorgeous, the world-building is fantastic, and there’s really great artwork scattered throughout. Some of the artwork is fairly suggestive, and all of it is stunning.

Crow slowed to a stop, and his gaze flickered bemusedly over him. The man was…not tall. Or remotely intimidating. He stood a couple inches shorter than him, even with the thick boots. Wide eyes shone resolutely grey-blue, the precise shade of his doublet, under a tumble of feathery white-blond curls cut a bit too short to be fashionable. And... his stubbornly-set jaw was rather less chiseled than Crow was used to seeing. No conveniently placed scars, no gritty dents or smudges on that immaculate armour. Heroes usually had cheekbones that could cut glass, but this one’s were rounded, and slightly rosy to boot. Cherubic was the word that came immediately to mind, and Crow nearly snorted out loud. He looked to be roughly Crow's own age, and was staring determinedly, if anxiously at him from behind that enormous broadsword. There was a long, tense silence as Crow and the armoured man sized each other up. The Hero spoke first. “Now see here, villain, I don’t want to have to kill you, so just turn about and head right back where you came from.” His voice was precise and educated, nearly fussy, and while self-assured was lacking in the usual bravado. Crow blinked, taken aback, and the flames in his hand faltered. “You don’t want to kill me?” “Well…no, not particularly.” The confidence wavered for an instant, then solidified. “Which is not to say that I won’t! Rest assured I will if you cause trouble!”

***

The Crawly Chronicles (series) (179K; Rated T/M/E) by @theladydrgn and @sylwritesstuff

When Aziraphale Fell, reporter for The Daily Messenger, is tasked with a simple story on smuggling, he isn't expecting to find out that Lightbringer, Inc. has been experimenting on something that could be an animal, an oil slick, or something else entirely. He especially isn't expecting that being to come home with him and change his entire life.

I’m a fan of the Tom Hardy Venom movies, which made this two-book, two-short series perfect for me. The books follow the plot of the first two movies, though book 2 also starts with the sexual relationship between the two characters. 

My favorite parts of the story are of the two learning to live together while sharing a body, and Aziraphale trying to figure out how to handle having feelings for a creature he’s permanently attached to who is so completely alien (literally) that he’s not even sure that romantic and sexual love are even an option.

The food the human was making already smelled good enough to eat to them, and they did not want to wait twenty minutes. This time their control of the human's hand was less subtle as they dipped fingers into the leftover batter and brought a generous scoop of the chocolate mix to their mouth. “Nasty human's is what they were.” Aziraphale froze or at least tried to. His mouth seemed to have other ideas, cleaning the mixture from his fingers. “What- Who said that?” he demanded messily, looking around. “I did.”  Aziraphale took several steps back, grasping for the cane he'd left leaning against the counter. The voice sounded as if it were everywhere around him or- or in his own mind somehow. “That's hardly reassuring. Who are you? How did you get into my home?” “Got in the same way you did, human.” They grabbed the bowl of chocolate mixture before the human stumbled too far from it, fingers scraping the last dregs of it to not waste a single bit. The cane fell to the floor.  Aziraphale tried stopping himself, but he couldn't seem to make his hands do what he wanted them to do. “Stop! How-” What in the world was happening and how did he stop it? “No. I'm hungry.” “That doesn't make any sense! Stop!” he demanded, struggling to keep his chocolate covered fingers away from his own mouth. “Fine.” They still felt so weak that fighting this human for control was a struggle and a challenge that they did not want to have. It was just so much easier to slip out between their cells and wrap a long tongue around their fingers instead.

***

And finally, if you made it all the way to the end, thank you!

I have three Good Omens novels of my own I hope you’ll check out, a post-S2 with an upcoming sequel; a “they never met”/fake marriage adventure; and a reverse omens (a WIP as of 27 Dec, 2024; chapters are released on Fridays, and it should be completely posted around mid-February 2025).

[commander-henrietta]

I am not sure if this is common knowledge and that I am saying already known stuff, but Orrian location names are very much Arabic and I can only assume that is because of Orr being next to the Crystal Desert, which has actual mixes of Arabic elements in many corners of the game. Why do I know this? Because I have an Arab father, and I was raised in the Middle East as a muslim in an Arabic school.

When I was doing map completion yesterday on Henri, I noticed how some points of interests in Orr had ‘Al’ in them, and I immediately assumed it would be gibberish since that is all I find in western made media when it comes to anything ‘exotic’. Bring some sound, put ‘al’ in front of it, and voilà, you have ‘Arabic’ in your media. But no, I reread the names and realized that they actually have a translation, since the team actually written in a way that you can guess how it’s read in Arabic if you’re a native or have experience in native Arabic environments.

I will list all points of interests in Orr that I found that have Arabic and the most likely meant translation (as an Arabic speaker myself):

• Izz-al-Din Sarayi

With the context surrounding Orr’s lore and the Human lore + Charr/Human lore, this can very much be ‘عز الدين صراعي’. It’s a very blotchy sentence since it’s grammatically incorrect, but it basically means ‘I fight with pride for my religion’, ‘I battle with pride for my religion’. It makes sense because Humans are very religious in GW2, and Orr is even more so, while Charr denounce higher power and think Humans for shit. And they had a battle on Orr. BOOM.

• Din al-Jindi

This is a very clear one, words used in Arabic lessons a lot to form simple sentences. ‘دين الجندي’ which means ‘The soldier’s religion’.

• Bakkir Sarayi

Sounds like ‘بكّر صراعي’ or ‘بكير صراعي’, which sounds like ‘Early Battle’ in both. One’s just traditional and the other’s Lebanese dialect.

• Several PoIs in Malchor’s Leap having ‘Bayt’ in them

Which is just like the Grove having ‘House of Caithe’, ‘House of Niamh’ and so on. It’s again, grammatically incorrect, but Bayt means house or home. They even used Arabic names with them, but in wrong order. Still, to me this is like a very big thing.

• Zho'qafa Catacombs area

Sounds like ‘ذو كفه’ which is like ‘with his palms’, or could be with his stance, several different possibilities.

This may seem like a far reach for representation to some people, but these make sense, they mean something, so it can’t be a coincidence. I’m just happy Arabic was acknowledged in some way instead of the fake Arabic they use in media to make it seem ‘exotic’ or made as a parody.

Weeeeooooeeeeooooo

[ask-patton]

Weird question, but do you prefer a certain drink? I have seen the stereotype floating around suburban dads only ever drinking iced tea, and now I'm curious! 👀 (Also, what do the other sides like to drink? Water is the "healthiest", of course, but there are more than one way to hydrate if someone just doesn't like plain water. I wonder if Logan would be interested in something like those funny AirUp Bottles that have been all over YouTube lately...)

I always like to have coffee in the morning, apple juice during lunch, and- you got it!- iced tea during supper. And of course, a glass of warm milk before bed. 😊

Roman LOVES fizzy drinks! Especially Izze's, he tells me they're the perfect drink between sparkling water (not enough flavor) and soda (too much sugar). Perfect for a prince like him!

I sometimes see Virgil carrying around those black and green energy drinks, and I won't lie, the pattern on the can kinda scares me. Whenever I go to his room, I make sure to give him a glass of ice water so he stays hydrated. Sometimes I add a packet of flavoring too, his favorite is red Kool-Aid!

When Logan is stressed, he drinks coffee, which seems to make him more stressed. Now despite the concerning amount of time I spend online, I've never heard of AirUp, but I have seen Logan with a giant water bottle that has those all-day timestamps. I know how much he loves making deadlines, he probably drinks the whole thing daily!

Whenever I see Janus drink anything, it's always that bitter grape juice stuff. 🤷‍♂️ I'll have to ask him if he drinks anything else the next time we see each other.

I'm not sure what Remus likes to drink, and I'm honestly too afraid to ask 😵‍💫!

Thanks for this ask kiddo, it was very fun! And I hope you have a lovely day 😁

[issie-https]

I wouldn’t mind the general plots of them only if you don’t mind though adds to the anticipation🤭

I’ve just seen this, sorry😭😂.

Most of them are smut!! Some sub!Vince Neil smut, Sebastian Bach, Bret Michaels, Axl X Reader X Slash, James Hetfield fluff, Nikki Sixx smut, lots of Izzy Stradlin stuff coming up, Kurt Cobain smut, Dave Grohl smut and some more.

I also have a taglist now so if anyone wants to be added to it, you can either message me(please don’t put it in my asks lol) or you can do it via the form — here!

The more in depth plots if you want to occupy yourself with antici… pation(RHPS reference🤭).

𝐈𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧

It’s reader’s birthday and Izz wants to do something special w/ smut at the end

Smut 4, 18 & 25 w/ angst

Izz & reader go to visit the parents and when they go to bed, Izz wants to stay with the reader but they have to be quiet

Inspired by the song patience and reader goes to where GNR are performing and Izzy proposes

Izzy takes readers virginity

2012 era Izzy smut

𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐥

Sub!Vince being a brat in public so reader punishes him

Sub!Vince Heavy kinks/fetishes — S&M, bondage, spanking, etc

Burlesque!Reader (I saw this one pop up in my requests and I was so shocked bcos I was already writing one like this but with Duff & Susan Mckagan(those two turned me bi🤫🤭))

𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐬

Headcanons(I will do A-Z and what it’s like dating him)

𝐀𝐱𝐥 & 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

Smut 23 w/ Axl X Reader X Slash(revenge sex)

𝐃𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐥

Smut 2 & 14 w/ Dave(Romantic & Messy sex)

𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐢𝐧

Fluff 4(pregnancy), Fluff 6(seeing each other after tour), fluff 18(first kiss), smut 4(post-fight sex) w/ Kurt

Smut 1 or 2 w/ Kurt(FWB & Romantic sex)

Kurt & Reader take each other v-card but during, reader wants Kurt to be rougher(daddy kink) but Kurt wants reader to be rougher(mommy kink)

𝐌𝐨̈𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐮̈𝐞

Modern!Crüe abt to preform(Home sweet home) but someone tells then that reader who was their old friend has passed away

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

Fluff 13 w/ James(movie night)

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐱

Prompt 8 & 10 w/ Nikki(he gets a boner from reader doing something subtle & car sex)

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬

Sub!Bret smut

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡

Heavy fetishes w/ Sebastian Bach

That’s all of them that’ve been requested and majority of the ones I’ve thought of are song fics or fluff because I need some healing atm😂.

I literally cried to Taylor Swift on my way back from the shops today AND I WANT NO JUDGEMENT FROM IT!!

Anyways, I love you all and tysm for your requests, follows, likes and support! It means the world to me xx❤️

[ladyluscinia]

Organizing my thoughts on OFMD 2x01 - 2x03

Strong start to a season. I really enjoy the black comedy aspect of the show, and the "all these people are kinda terrible" aspect, so win for me! The opening scene gave me a lot of thoughts. Actually, lots of stuff gave me thoughts that I'm gonna dump here (as I rewatch the episodes since I spent the first go around whooping and cheering more than paying attention to details lol) so I can start picking through them more coherently.

---

Ok, first. OHMYGOD EDWARD AND IZZ- *I am yanked off the stage* Ahem. BlackHands thoughts will go into a different post, so as not to overwhelm the many other things going on worth discussing. (Link to post)

So. Real first point:

Kraken Era

Big thing I was absolutely wrong about was how dark Edward's Kraken arc would go. I was counting on a very handwavy resolution that would still let him do some fucked up shit, but I expected it to be mostly externally directed violence that toed up to a potential line but didn't quite cross it. Reminiscent of Flint's vengeance rampage after Miranda is killed. Self-destructive harm but only tangential harm of others in your social sphere.

That is... we did not get that. But what we did get I am very here for.

I'll be honest - I wasn't sure they were bold enough in a romcom to blast right over the line into horrifying and then be so audacious it looped back to funny, but they did. And I think the tone is working for them so far. Big saving grace is they went way further with Edward's cruelty but they counterbalanced it by going way further with the suicidal themes, which made the whole situation more extreme and sympathetic. He should still probably apologize tho.

The Breakup Boat

Frenchie my beloved! Also Fang & Jim & Archie & Izzy! Literally the breakup boat is a resounding success all around and I adore every second of their fucked up trauma bonding. Win after win after win.

Frenchie is repression king and it's hilarious. I love how he gets named first mate for presumably being the only one who sounds plausibly honest when getting interrogated, tries to turn the job down, and then doesn't follow a single order while vibing. Also the bonding with Izzy?!? He's steps in during the intervention. He hides him after Edward shoots him, and then later he's checking in on him and leaning against his leg in the cell. Please Frenchie get all up in that Edward and Izzy mess!

And I'm trying not to turn this into a breakup boat recap but also Fang sobbing through basically every scene. The wooden boy story. Jim's terrible voices. Izzy hiding in the walls. "He's our dick" to "He was your friend" holy fuckkkkkk. And the whole mutiny scene was amazing. Jim saying fuck this toxic bullshit and Izzy saving them all!!! (Sidenote: love how all the nameless extras got washed overboard in the storm. More bodycount!)

The tearing into a seagull like zombies scene - perfect. Archie recognizing Stede (did they tell her about Stede in hushed whispers or was it literally just Izzy's singular statement?). All backing each other up on the "retirement" story. Izzy taking the blame to motivate Stede in trying to defend the crew again.

Trauma bonding WIN!

Also sympathetic Izzy has been real forever despite misreads of S1 and the mistaken predictions they spawned, but once again... Izzy!!!

BlackBonnet "On A Break"

They are idealizing each other so fucking hard. Also Stede what on earth are you talking about in the first episode??? "He's just blowing off some steam." "I'm afraid that your life is better without me?" MY GUY are you reading that list of what Edward has been up to??? Denial so strong.

So we have Stede still full of self-loathing and simultaneously convinced Ed couldn't want him but also avoiding the realization that he hurt him really bad because Ed wanted him. And we have Edward actively suicidal over feeling unlovable and determined to murder-suicide his situationship and the kids, except he can't kill himself so he's trying to make everyone else do it.

(And, you know, Edward is very pointedly refusing to see how the people around him would care for and support him if he would let them - even when they straight up offer it to his face - because he is more concerned with the misery of his own twisted narrative about being fundamentally unlovable than whether or not that is a true statement. Stede doesn't want him and everyone else is just a prop for his depression's final act. Very "I don't have any friends" of him - shoutout to that flashback in his purgatory sequence too.)

Edward's self-loathing throwing him into the water, but Edward starting to save himself well before merman!Stede shows up. Because he does, deep down, want to live with or without Stede. Very strong. Like that. Also the idealization on Edward's end of envisioning Stede as a legit magical being of golden scales??? Fuck, you two need to get some perspective.

Stede's Crew

Trauma Lucius I was not counting on, but Lucius going from BlackBonnet supporter to FUCK YOU STEDE was fun. Also Stede offering to be supportive and then immediately trying to nope right out.

Sea Witch Buttons!!!!!! We're going to get naked Buttons charging into a scene screaming about how he's a seagull or something, aren't we?

Confirmation that Oluwande can't read in the funniest way. Well I guess on reflection the scrolls are probably in Chinese so reading wouldn't help, so maybe this point is null.

I did like the note of Stede knowing "The Soul Reaper's" real name. Piracy hyperfixation bonus.

JimOlu vs JimArchie... If we get another poly ship then I'm calling SteddyHands real. I'm just saying.

Oluwande taking initiative to step up and flex his boytoy powers to advocate diplomatically for the crew - very Captain material of him. Also conveniently doubled as a distraction so he was essential to the plan. Go Olu!

Antagonists New and Old!

Spanish Jackie was a treat. I enjoy that she still hates Stede. The Swede literally became a new man by marrying her. AND WE SAW THE HUSBANDS!

Prince Ricky is so far just kind of a shady classist scumbag - presumably that's going somewhere.

Zheng Yi Sao on the other hand... interested what's happening with this whole armada plan she's apparently enacting. The whole Olu boytoy arc was fun. I'm not as into the whole "girlboss" approach to every single female character in this show so far, so, uh, concerned about that. Hoping for more exploration of how she's doing Stede's version of piracy but what exactly is off about it? Because so far there's no real reason to resist her, other than maybe the whole "I didn't conquer China by listening to pirates ramble about their feelings" bit.

Hornigold. Yeah, I know he was a subconscious manifestation of Edward's self-loathing but I still have hope. "Last time I saw you, you said you were gonna flay my skin and feed it back to me." Does that not sound like a great foreshadowing for S3???

[fuck-kirk]

Izzy Rant

Honestly I feel like out of everything I’m mostly mad that Izzy got such a lame ass death. Like. He didn’t even sacrifice himself for someone he loved. The crew he loved. He got shot by accident by the lamest mother fucker on the planet. He didn’t get to go out fighting, sword in hand. He died from a surprise gunshot wound dealt by a coward who was running away from him. So FUCKING lame. Which like, I get it, not everyone gets to go out in a blaze of glory but damn if the narrative couldn’t have a least given him that.

Him dying had no narrative significance other than to absolve Ed. They literally fridged him. I’ll even argue that Izz’s arc was by NO MEANS resolved at all and he still had so much to add to the narrative.

So, not only did his death mean NOTHING, it also just happened in the most rushed, lame ass way possible. And the crew hardly even looked sad. I understand that most of this is due to it being rushed, but if you decide to kill off a fan favorite character I think you should either figure out a way to do it in the best way possible, or just like. Not do it at all.

Also, I get that using his leg, sword, cravat and ring to make his grave marker is Aesthetic™️ but to me it’s just like. Super fucked up that they didn’t bury him with those things ?? Huh?? That stuff will just like. Get lost or stolen eventually …. Like why would he not be buried with those things.

Also also, if there is a season 3…imagine having the titanic luck of having Mr. CON O’NEILL on the cast and killing him off. Con plays off everyone so well and I’d argue is one of, if not the best actor out of everyone on set (no shade to the rest of the crew. I love them all. But Con is just built different). It’s such a WASTE is the thing that gets me. Con as Izzy adds SO much to the show and a s3 without him just feels like it would be so lackluster.

Alright. I think that’s all. Had to get it out of my system.

[technotalksnimien]

Don’t be fooled by its name, it’s a great movie: The 3 Idiots reflection

Hi everyone! I’m back again for another blog. I sincerely apologize for not updating my blog lately. I got really busy at school. I got a free time now though.  Well anyways, so much for that. I hope you’ll enjoy reading my blog as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Have a great day!

Have you ever wondered why is it called “3 Idiots”? If you haven’t watched the movie yet, you would probably wonder why. Why 3 Idiots though? Spoiler alert! Rancho, Raju and Farhan are the “3 idiots” despite belonging to a prestigious university. The reason why they are called three idiots is because of doing silly stuffs and they are way different from other students. The almost 3-hour long movie is considered to be among the greatest Indian films ever made. The film had huge social impact on education systems, not just in India, but across the globe. So if you haven’t watched it yet, you’re missing out! So much for that, let’s get over with the introductions and let me explain why 3 idiots is a “must watch”. Here are some of my reflections after watching the movie.

1.“Life is a race, if you don’t run fast, you’ll get trampled” – Virus.

A famous quote from the movie, 3 idiots. Life itself is NOT a race. It is us, who make it feel like a competition. People around us tells us that we have to always come first. First in class, first in anything that we do. Which usually stems from childhood, where we often hear them say, “you have to be like this”. Which gives the child a mindset that he or she has to excel in order to feel acceptance or belongingness which eventually leads to constantly seeking for validation and approval, making it the only way to reinforce the child’s sense of value and worthiness.

The education system has gradually become only about “who performed the best” and not about “who were able to perform”. Making it look like we are in a constant state of comparison with our peers. Life isn’t a race, nor a competition. Each of us have our own pace. If you get trampled, it’s okay. Stand up, and continue doing things that gives you meaning. Success isn’t measured on how fast you finished or how fast you got on top. There’s always a right time for everything. You don’t wait for it, but you make it happen.

2. Make your passion your profession

This is also one of the most crucial thing I learned from the movie, maybe because I can somehow relate. Programming isn’t really my passion. Although I took BSIT program, my love for science will never vanish. In my case, I had to be practical. Yes, it is not my passion but I believe someday, this field that I have chosen will bring me success. Farhan wants to become a wildlife photographer but he studied engineering to fulfill his father’s wish. He was never happy about it, but his parents were. Rancho advised Farhan to go after his dreams. I saw how passionate Farhan was. But at the same time, he set aside his dreams just to make his parents happy, which makes him a really good son. His father thinks that there’s not that much money in photography, but he said it will make him happy. This is so true even in real life. Some people have all the riches in the world but they never find contentment. Some are not that rich, but they are happy and contented. Life isn’t just about making money, it’s also about being happy. Those two come together. Even if you don’t earn that much when you start doing your passion, eventually, success will come to you because you love what you’re doing, and you are good at doing it.

3. Aal izz well (All is well)

Most mentioned phrase in the movie, the song is also captivating. What do “All is well” mean? We are so focused in achieving our goals for the future, that sometimes, we forget to enjoy things we have at the present. The phrases, “All is well” teaches us that everything is going to be alright. When life goes out of control, just say, all is well. It may not directly solve the problem, but it may increase one’s courage to face it. Positivity has a great impact when dealing with problems we think we can’t solve.

4. The power of friendship

Your friend circle influences your actions. At first, I kind of hated rancho for being such a jerk and a rebel. I felt like he’s influencing Raju and Farhan to be like him. But as the movie goes on, I finally understood what Rancho is trying to say all along. He sees Raju and Farhan as his friends that he doesn’t want them to be eaten up by the poor education system and encourages them to stand up for themselves. I recalled that when Virus told Raju to write a letter to expel him to the school, he can’t do it because he thinks of this parents, his paralyzed father. He said he can’t do it but then Virus told him to put Rancho’s name instead. I felt really bad that I expected him to betray Rancho. I kind of doubted Raju that time but I was shocked to see that he chose to commit suicide instead. He really is a true friend and I’m glad he was safe and recovered eventually. Their friendship is one of a kind, I even think it’s more of like a family. The people we choose to hang out with ultimately influences our actions and our future. Choose your friends wisely.

5. Learning doesn’t end even after you graduate

Education doesn’t stop. People are constantly learning. Education does not only exist inside academic institutions, but also outside of that. Education is not about memorizing, it’s about learning. For me, Silencer or Chatur was really a great student. He was successful at the end right? But he was not that happy. He’s still consumed by the anger he has for Rancho years ago; he thinks that Rancho is not as successful as him. Sad reality, there are successful people that looks down on others. They think that they are on top, they think they are relevant. They have degree and all, but they don’t have the manners. Looking back, Chatur was mostly relying on memorizing stuffs rather than studying about it. I liked how Rancho and his friends taught him a lesson when he gave a speech wherein they changed some of the words to humiliate Chatur. I actually agreed on what they did even though I sometimes think it’s already too much but it was also Chatur’s fault for not giving any effort to research on his speech. You can still learn even you are already working. You learn different things from different people every day. Understand, apply and make a change.

6. Education is a right, not a privilege

Last but not the least, and also one of my favorite lesson. Education is not a privilege; it is a human right. I firmly believe that every person has their right to quality education without discrimination. Let’s recall when we found out the plot twist in 3 idiots. The Rancho we know is not the real Rancho. His real name was Phunsukh Wangdoo. He was a servant boy who loved learning. He agreed to take real Rancho’s name, give him the degree in exchange for attaining the education and the learning he wants. It amazes me how wangdoo (Rancho) doesn’t care about the degree, to him, it is just a title. He cares more about what he learned. He impersonated the real Rancho just to send himself to school. Then it revealed that wangdoo (Rancho) is a school teacher at Ladakh. Wherein children are motivated by love of knowledge, like how schools should be. In addition to being very funny and interesting movie, “3 Idiots” also prompts crucial issues on shortcomings of the educational system and the quest for pleasure and fulfillment,

That’s all! I hope you learned something and enjoyed my blog. It took me hours to finish it because I really want a detailed reflection. Thank you! Xoxo.

[grvntld]

23 june 2024—slow sunday 🤍✨️

we had a late night last night since we celebrated grandma's 80th birthday, so i actually slept in earlier in the morning. well, to be fair, i actually woke up early—around 5am—so as to take the furbebis out and hv them do their thingy since moosey had a bit of a hangover. hehe.

after bringing them out and making coffee for moosey, i decided to go back to bed and go 😌💤. i woke up 30 minutes past 9am. lol. actually, moosey woke me up since breakfast is ready. he made a delicious noodle dish, which i wasnt able to take a photo of, but omg, it was soooo good!!

then i gave our youngest furbebi, naruga, a bath since she was kinda stinky, tbh. wahahahahaha. she's still a puppy kasi so hindi talaga namin siya masyado pinapaliguan pa. she looked so fresh, though, so i guess izz safe to assume that she felt fresh too! she kept kissing me after as if she was saying thank you to me for giving her a bath. huhu. our furbebis are so malambing, and i love eht.

i then prepped for my sponty catch up sesh with a few of the gOrLies. sayang i wasnt able to ask one of them to take photos of me, ang cutie pa naman ng outfit ko. hehu. ulitin ko na lang the outfit. nyahahahhaha. eniwey, we talked about a lot of stuff, cried about a lot of stuff, and laughed about a lot of stuff. i truly missed them. we truly missed each other. i brought them to the cafe that ive been making tambay at recently. im so happeh they liked naman the food that they ordered and that their go-to drink na rin sa cafe na yun is my go-to drink, the ice blended biscoff one. izz just soooo good tologo!!! we also loved up their rigatoni alla vodka, ugh, so delish!!!

now im at home na with moosey and the furbebis. the panganays were waiting for me to open the gate papunta sa room namin so that they could ask for some lambing. hehe. once i was able to decompress for a bit, of course, inallow na namin sila pumasok. mavara, the chikadora that she is, went straight to our window after getting her needed lambing from me. lol. we're all just resting now while moosey is playing on his ps5, his game of choice being ghost reckon 🎉🙆‍♀️💝🐶💝🙆‍♂️🎮

[evilasiangenius]

The Seventh Prince of Hell

Genesis 3:(-7)-5.5

-7   And they assembled all the Lords, the Princes of Hell into a congregation together sometime after the seventh day, but not on a day of rest because even the Dark Council has a day off.

-6     When it came to pass that all grew weary of the powerful pointing presentations, Lord Beelzebub spake with a loud voice, saying unto them, One of uzz brotherzz muzzt go to Earth as Hell’s Represzentative and thwart the doings of Heaven; there izz no choice now that the Almighty has created humanzz. Who amongzt uzz shall take up the project? It comezz with a great deal of extra paperwork, much travel, and no overtime pay. And we shall not reimbursze anything and there shall be no per diem.

-5     From among the Princes of Hell, one stood and said unto the First Prince of Hell, I would like to know exactly why we’re being called to do this. As members of the Dark Council, shouldn’t we just send an ordinary demon instead? Or even a Duke at the very most? After all, there is plenty work in Hell for us without needing to send someone so high-ranked to do something so menial.

-4     It izz to our benefit to take this very seriouszly, Lord Aziraphale, saith Lord Beelzebub unto him. We who loszt the war; we shall not lose Earth az well. Now I will volunteer three Lords of Hell. Step forward when I say your name.

-3     And of the seven Princes of Hell, three stepped forward, and only three; not two nor five, which are the other prime numbers near three and definitely not one, which is not a prime at all but the unit. The first was the Second Prince, who is called Asmodeus and is a demon of lust. The second was the Seventh Prince, who is called Aziraphale and is a demon of collecting stuff. And the third was the Fourth Prince, who is not worth talking about because they only appear in this one scene and for no other reason than to have three characters. I think that Prince is the demon of executive dysfunction or erectile dysfunction or something like that. Maybe both.

-2    And the three Princes, all Lords of Hell and members of the Dark Council, vied for the honors of being Representative on Earth with great reluctance until one of them won. Or lost, depending on how you look at it.

-1    And having won the dubious honors of being Representative on Earth, the Prince of Hell was told by Beelzebub to get up there and make some trouble, whatever that meant.

0     Later that very day on Earth the waters that flowed through Eden burbled, and flames erupted underwater though that would be impossible as flames could not erupt from underwater, except possibly in the case of a volcano or a deep sea trench, but that was not the case in Eden which had neither. However, from this supernatural burbling came a dark creature that slithered onto land, inching itself up out of the waters, over the field, and up an apple tree.

1     Now the octopus was more subtle than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made, primarily because it was a beast of the sea and not the field. And not properly a beast, but more like a fish, especially since it came out of the waters. Except it wasn’t a fish. And he said unto the woman, So I hear that you were told by God that you could eat anything in the Garden of Eden. Did God say unto you, that you shall not eat of every tree of the garden?

2     And the woman said unto the octopus, we may eat of the fruit of the trees of the Garden.

3     But of the fruit of the tree that you’re clinging to, octopus, peering out at me from a shaded hollow in the trunk, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die.

4     Was that really God who said that or just one of God’s servants? Because if you heard it from an Archangel named, I don’t know, Gabriel or Michael or Sandalphon or Uriel, you probably shouldn’t listen to them, because they’re all a pack of lying bastards, every last one of them. However, you can trust me. I’m an octopus.

5     And the octopus said unto the woman, You shall not surely die. Besides, God said everything, right? The set of everything is defined as all things in the set. Here we have that the set is all the fruiting trees of Eden. If God didn’t want you to eat from this tree, God would have said, Ye may eat of the fruit of some of the trees of the Garden, but clearly God said every tree. That’s just how formal logic works, you know.

5.5   In fact, not only are these fruits good in a pie, they will also give you knowledge. You will know from good and evil after just one bite. I can’t imagine that God would find that troublesome, could She? After all, you’ll be more like Her, closer to Her, once you can tell the difference between good and evil. Besides, among other things, tasting of the fruit will give you the knowledge of baking a pie...

x

[eliaswoodt]

Special It Called Her

(Special It Called Her)

No warnings! (I’m pretty sure not)

Kaitlyn didn’t know when she realized she was special.

At least not the exact moment she actively thought I’m special.

She does remember the first odd thing to happen to her. (Or, at least the first odd thing she knows about happening to her. But she doesn’t often like to entertain the idea of things happening to or around her without knowing it. Being unaware…the idea…it makes her skin prickle, and crawl and her heart thrum, squirm with the feeling of being watched).

Kaitlyn was young, plain brown hair and plain brown eyes, 15 or so (so young and yet already seen as an adult in training, instead of a kid just aching to be noticed), and she didn’t have many friends.

Kaitlyn was waiting with her friends just outside of the tall blue school doors (two girls who pitied her enough to let her leech on their conversations, getting her social-sustenance through barely-willing veins), waiting to get picked up and taken home.

It was spring, birds cawing once more, the leafs new and shiny on sturdy brown branches and the sun hiding less and less as the days went on, painting the concrete the three girls stood on in faint light. Still too cold to not be bundled up in coats and jackets.

Kaitlyn was standing a good couple inches from her two friends, a noticeable distance (just like their minds and hers—so distant and unlike each other in every important way), and she was trying to find an opening in the racing conversation before her (she had always been bad at races, running never her forte. Always falling short and getting benched by peers, friends, and family alike).

And just before she could get a word out (the conversation was quickly turning from animals to boy bands and Kait didn’t know a thing about boy bands—or music, really—so she desperately wanted to share a fun fact about snakes), a raspy voice whispered Carrier, Carrier, right in her ear.

Kaitlyn jumped, heart going frantic. “Huh?” She glanced around, eyeing the students out and about, talking, laughing, crowding together (probably wanting to have a smoke), waiting for rides or getting into cars of various kinds and shades of white, black, red, or blue.

She pulled her searching gaze from the trees that circled and enclosed around the high school, back to her friends, and the two girls were apparently staring at her. “Uh…”

“What?” Jess said, blonde brow raised, frowning.

Isabella’s—or as the teen preferred—Izzy’s honey colored eyes bore into Kaitlyn’s, blandly staring at her. Or maybe judging her? Kait couldn't ever tell. Reading expressions…well, it never was something she prided herself on. (The boys always looked at her strangely whenever she tried to speak about rare animals with them, and the girls' faces contorted weirdly when she said she didn’t understand the whole playing-with-dolls-stuff, in elementary. Not much has changed, since then really).

Kaitlyn quickly avoided their nerve-racking eyes. “Uhm…I just…uh…n-never mind,” Kaitlyn eventually mumbled, and tried to shake off the horrible feeling of being watched.

“Really?” Jess crossed her arms. Jessica Brook, blonde and blue eyed, was always a nosy person, and Kaitlyn thinks it’s because her parents always use information against each other (but Kait would never tell her that. People didn’t like it when she told them things like that, especially when it was about themselves).

While Jess loudly proclaimed who she was, Izzy, dark curls and darker eyes, was a private, to-herself-person. Quiet like Kait, but by choice, unlike Kait. Izzy still liked gossip, though.

“It seemed like something, didn’t it, Jess?”

“Yeah, it did, Izz.”

Carrier, carrier, the voice from earlier rasped, sounding as if it was coming from all directions. Her paranoia, she could feel, was creeping along her spine, and Kaitlyn was almost glad for the cold since it gave her an excuse to shiver.

Kaitlyn’s head buzzed when the thing spoke. But she still didn’t know where it was coming from.

“Do, uh…” Kaitlyn didn’t want to be called crazy, but she decided she needed to know. “Did you guys hear that? The voice?”

A small laugh escaped Izzy. Izzy was meaner than Jess, Kaitlyn felt.

“A voice?” Jess questioned.

Kaitlyn nodded.

Another sharp, little laugh slipped past Izzy’s mouth while she rolled her eyes.

Jess snapped out of the shock Kait’s words seemingly put her in. “What, you’re crazy now? Hearing voices inside your head?” Jess said, nose scrunched and lip pinched up.

Kaitlyn wanted to flap her hands, feeling uncertain and distinctly uncomfortable with all the eyes and odd looks, but instead wrapped her arms around her middle. She went to respond, but Jessica beat her to it.

“Ew, get away from me!” Jess laughed cruelly, loudly, while Izzy kept her snickering mostly to herself. “I don’t want your craziness,” she pulled Izzy away from Kaitlyn, closer to the parking lot, and didn’t look back.

Leaving Kaitlyn to herself.

Kaitlyn let them go, without saying anything at all.

But God, did she want to. She wanted to plead, beg even, for them to stay. Everything inside her body was screaming and begging to not be left alone.

Carrier, come here, the voice buzzed and itched Kaitlyn’s brain. She could feel a headache building.

Kait whipped her head around, making the headache pound harder. And her eyes landed on a…a white blob, hiding behind some bushes, in the treeline. But it wasn’t a normal blob, in the bushes, it almost…

Kaitlyn took three steps closer, against her better judgment.

…it almost looked like a head.

A bald head, bright white like the unnatural white of manufactured paint.

Her head pounded a little harder.

Her heart positively screamed at her to run.

Carrier, Carrier, it said.

The head inched upward, revealing more and more blinding-white skin.

Come here, it whispered and it sounded like it was directly speaking into her ears, and like the voice was echoing all around her. But that would be impossible, seeing as it was only a few feet away from her.

The head continued its upward movement, and revealed black, hollow sockets. The skin around said sockets blackened, like the way wood charred.

Promises, I can give you promises, despite the horror squeezing Kaitlyn’s heart, the voice compelled her to take a step toward it.

Blunt teeth, Kaitlyn realized. Kait didn’t know what to expect, but the creature revealed it had blunt, pearly-white teeth while everything else in its mouth was black and slimy looking.

It oddly didn’t have a nose.

Come here, it tried to corral. But Kaitlyn snapped out of the horrified trance when her Mom called for her, and she ran.

And ran to her Mom, where she sat in the car for who knows how long, waiting for Kaitlyn to open one of the blue car doors and sit.

And Kaitlyn watched.

Watched the trees for the white creature, as her ears rang and heart pounded.

But…almost far more horrifying…she didn’t see it again.

Not when she was in the front seat of the car, studiously scanning the blooming spring trees.

Not outside the window that overlooked the backyard in the kitchen, when she was helping her Mom do the dishes.

And not even outside her bedroom window, when she was sleepless and terrified in her bed as the night trudged along.

Kaitlyn wouldn’t see it for a long, long time.

[issie-https]

Smut:8 and smut:14 with izzy please?🙏🙏

Summer days

Izzy Stradlin X Reader

A/n: First request! I’ve also got another one on the way which I’m excited for! As always, my requests are open so feel free to request anything🩷 With the song, it’s just what I was listening to while writing this but I feel like it works well with it🤷‍♀️

Word count: 900

Warnings: Smut, sloppy summer sex

Masterlist

༺✩༻

"Hi, guys!" I smiled as I welcomed Axl, Duff, Steven and Slash into mine and Izzy's new house. "This is nice, Y/n," Steven said. "Aww, thanks Stevie," I smiled, ushering them into the living room. "Where's Izzy?" Axl asked at the absence of his best friend. "He's changing into his swimming trunks, he'll be down so-," I got cut off by Izzy yelling, "IM HERE!" As he came down the stairs. I just rolled my eyes at my boyfriend acting like a child with his boyfriends. "I'm going to change into my bikini. I'll be right back," I whispered into Izzy's ear. He simply nodded and turned back to his conversation. "Oh, and help yourself to drinks, Izzy will show you where they are," I smiled.

I was changing into my bikini when all of a sudden, music started blasting through the house. Why have children when you can have Guns N Roses.

"I'm back! Izzy, what is in that cup?" I said, looking at the weird concoction in Izzy's cup. "I don't know, Axl made it," he replied, making eye contact with me. "Please don't murder everyone," I laughed, mixing myself a drink.

After a few minutes, Izzy and Axl decided to start the barbecue. Now, I'm nervous for this because a few things could happen. One, it could go just fine. Two, they could set something on fire. Three, they could just start arguing with each other. But for now, I will give them the benefit of a doubt.

"AXL!" I heard Izzy yell from the grill. "One sec," I smiled and rushed over to them. "What are you screaming at Axl for?" I whispered-yelled at Izzy. "The idiot isn't listening," he whined. "What do you want him to do?" I asked calmly, trying to diffuse the tension Izzy was making. "I asked him to go get the stuff from the fridge," he whined again. "Why don't you do it?" I suggested. "Because," he shrugged. "Jeffery Dean Isbell, go get it yourself," I said. "Axl, do you need anything?" I smiled. "Just a beer, please," he smiled back, handing me his empty bottle.

Once the food was finally cooked and laid out on the table, we all sat down and ate, talking about any and every topic on our minds. But for some reason, Izzy stayed fairly quiet.

"That was amazing, you two," I smiled at Izz and Axl who were now on their 8th or 9th beer. "Izz, can you help me bring the plates into the kitchen please?" I asked to which he just nodded, picking up a stack of plates.

"What's wrong?" I asked when we reached the kitchen. "It's nothing," he grumbled, turning his back to me. "Izzy," I scolded as he knew I hated when he ignored me. "Y/n, just leave it. I'll tell you when the others have left," he spat, making me shove the plates in the sink and storm out to the garden. "Y/n," he grumbled.

I spent the rest of the time in the pool with Steven and Duff, just chilling and talking about random shit until they all decided to go home, leaving me alone in the pool and Izzy alone on the sun lounger. "Y/n?" He said. "Not in the mood to talk," I blurted, tuning away from him. "Y/n please," he begged. "What? What is so important now?" I replied, turning to look at him. "Come here," he whined. "Why?" I asked. "Just come here," he grumbled. I got out of the pool, walked over to him and he pulled me onto his lap. "Oh," I said as I felt his boner underneath me. "Get it now?" He whispered in my ear, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs, getting closer to my heat each time.

I didn't reply, I just got off his lap and pulled him through the house and into our bedroom. "I'm sorry, baby," I cooed as I kissed him. "I forgive you, princess," he said as he kissed me back. We joined in a sloppy but romantic kiss as we got closer to the bed. The heat in general was high but with Izzy kissing me this way, we were both lightly sweating already. "I love you.. so... much," he said in between kisses. "Love you.. so much... mm too," I moaned as he pulled away to remove my bikini top and help me step out of my bikini bottoms.

He slid off his swimming trunks and his hard cock slapped against his stomach, leaking with pre cum. I lay back on the bed as he positioned himself between my legs. He thrust himself into me, making me moan loudly. "You're so pretty," he praised, kissing my lips again. His thrusts were sloppy but deep, hitting my g-spot every time he thrust. "Fuck, Izz," I moaned, scratching his back with my nails. "You feel so good," he rasped, reaching between our bodies to rub my clit, making me gasp at the added stimulation. "Izz, I'm c-close," I moaned. "I know, princess," he groaned, continuing the circles on my clit. "Cum for me," he moaned. I came on his cock, feeling him pulse inside me as he came, filling me up with his cum. "You're so good for me," he praised, making me blush. "I love you," I smiled. "I love you too,".

[artaccountyeayea]

Well howdyz hi!

Uh well im Ozzy/Astrix/Rozwell! Im an artist an' i work with tonz of stuff (Trad,digital,watercolors?)

My pronounz are listed here: https://pronouny.xyz/u/glitchisacore

My other account izz: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/geirusgf

Im mostly gonna keep this as a backup art acc mhm mhm!

[hacemorra-death-gremlin]

Interlace: Some other Options

Yo! Are you an artist that doesn’t like drawing humans for any reason? Don’t like the idea of just drawing some guys and want to do something special? Interlace, for me, has been pretty fun because I consistently take it and go “oooh but how would it work if they were x?” So here’s a selection of some of the AUs that you could draw instead of the base stuff. Note that for a lot of these, I don’t have designs fully figured out, so you’re free to take artistic liberties and fill in the unfinished parts yourself, just make sure it’s still the same character in the end :) These are: Furry | Dragons (WoF) | Pokemon Mystery Dungeon | Pokemon (Trainers)

It’s probably dumb but I think it’s fun! So that’s why I’m leaving this open as an option. 

Furry

For this, we’ve got: 

Sam: Pine Marten 

August: Elk 

Gabi: Flying Fox/Vampire bat cross

Leila: Raven 

Izze: Therizinosaurus

I don’t have much art, only some sketches of furry-ified Sam and August. Here they are Dragon (WoF)

THIS one has a lot more information! Copying this from an old post about them “[Sam] Braconid (they/he/she) is a Hivewing. He has a personal weapon, a proboscis that shoots out from under his tongue with some kind of toxin, which causes initial numbness then unbearable pain after hours. They gain animus magic sometime through the story, thanks to The Curse, which also makes them significantly more obsessed with Oleander to an unhealthy amount. She doesn't use her weapon and keeps her animus magic hush hush.

[August] Oleander (he/him) is a Silkwing-Nightwing Hybrid. He starts off the story without any abilities, since despite being 18 (assuming its like late 20s equivalent based on dragon maturity) he has not gone through metamorphosis yet. He does, and afterwards his wings are odd, he has regular silk, and can breathe a bit of fire which is weirdly linear and kinda... sticks. The Curse just kinda loosens his

inhibitions. Just a little.

[Leila] Gloam (she/her) is a Nightwing, who was hatched under a single moon and can read minds. She is extremely nosey and this power is not the best for her. The Curse makes her rampant need to know and curiosity much worse, staining her eyes green, opening more across her scales, and letting her mind reading powers grow until she can split open a mind and look inside like peeling an orange.

[Gabi] Lobo (he/she) is a Sandwing. Like legitimately Lobo's unremarkable. The Curse makes him a little more angry that's about all.

[Izze] Juniper (she/her) is a Leafwing, who has a little bit of leafspeak. Not much. The most she can do is really cheap tricks, not very useful as a weapon. Though Juniper is on a whole other level, seeing as Juniper is immune to The Curse SOMEHOW.

Some character background. Braconid, Oleander, and Juniper's families and ancestors back 250+ years are Pyrrhian. Despite their tribes being from Pantala, they are Pyrrhian dragons in all other ways.

Braconid and Juniper were invited to the prestigious Jade Mountain Academy, and were both put in the Copper Winglet. They got on like a house on fire and when they graduated, moved close to home in Colony. There they started writing scrolls together. They mostly write on draconic folk tales, legends, myths, and most strikingly supposed supernatural encounters. Braconid does most research, Juniper comes up with ideas and handles writing. In public appearances, Braconid acts as the grumpy skeptic and Juniper as the charismatic believer.

Half of Braconid's job is spending a lot of time in Pyrrhian libraries, and the library in Colony is the biggest on the continent. This is where Braconid met Oleander.

Oleander, with no wings, has been left at a major disadvantage. He was hatched just outside Colony, and hasn't gotten the chance to travel further since the ability to fly is kinda important for crossing a continent. So he's stayed in Colony. He works at the library as a librarian, and met Braconid on his walks to work. It started out slow, but they over the years fell in love and now live together. Oleander appreciates that Braconid never pitied him, only trying to be accommodating.

Working at the library, one other coworker convinced the librarians to have game nights every so often, which is how Oleander gets closer to Gloam, the head librarian. Gloam completes her duties, but is well known for getting lost in research of things she finds interesting. She was hatched in Colony, and has seen most of Pyrrhia, just finding Colony the most comfortable place for her.

Lastly for background would be Lobo. Lobo is from the southern side of the desert, close to the mountains, where the sand gets dark and almost red. She joined Queen Dawn's army at 6 (once again, age weird assuming 15-17 here), thinking it would give him the chance to help others. After a few years she figured out she was wrong, and deserted, fleeing back home. He quickly feared being caught by a patrol and moved outside the Sand Kingdom to Colony to avoid court marshall. Lobo now is a gossip columnist, hot on the drama of Colony. On the side he likes to study strange phenomenon and old stories, and runs into Juniper and Braconid on that front. She hates them.”

PMD

This is kinda close to the furry one in the sense I don’t have much information but I DO have what creatures they are and the art. Sam: Tatsugiri August: Dondozo Gabi: Lucario Leila: Absol Izze: Quilava 

Pokemon Trainers No art, just information. I’d personally find this option fun :) Sameeh Hisuian Goodra (Partner) Tatsugiri (curly) Augustine Venomoth (Partner) Dondozo Venipede Leila Armarouge (Partner) Murkrow Gabi Heracross (Partner) Mienshao Houndoom Hisuian Sneasel

Izabel Altaria (Partner) Lapras Phantump 

[yeahimwiththeband]

--> with the band chapter 16

Happy New Year, Izzy

warning: social anxiety, big time. jump scare. horror? for someone with anxiety, horror. 

A/N: izzy is THRIVING. and then she hears what her ex George has been up to. love on tour AU, angst!harry. 

word count: 5.7k

Izzy picked up her phone and sent yet another message to Lydia. She had been back home from the tour for just four days and had heard nothing from either her or Harry. Or anyone.

As soon as she sent it, her phone rang. Izzy put it to her ear right away.

“Harry?” Izzy asked hopefully.

Static on the other end.

“Izzy, it’s Lydia.” Lydia’s voice sounded shaky. Izzy was ecstatic and concerned at the same time.

“Oh my god, thank god,” Izzy said, “I’m so happy to hear your voice!” Izzy mouthed to Olivia: it’s Lydia! Olivia gave a tight smile, put the keys back in Izzy’s hand, and left the room.

“Izzy,” Lydia said, steadying her voice. “I have something to tell you...George and I are together.”

“George… Do you mean Mitch?” Izzy asked desperately. 

“No.” 

“George from the tour George?”

“Yes.”

“You and George,” Izzy repeated. She wanted to make sure she was hearing correctly.

“Yes.”

“We got together after you and him broke up.”

“3 days ago. 3 days ago we broke up. And now you and George—“

“I’m sorry, I know it’s fast. I know it’s too fast. I’ve liked him for a while and you seemed so happy, but then you slept with Harry and it was obvious it wasn’t real between you two.”

“That’s fair,” Izzy said. She didn’t feel angry that they were together—she felt betrayed, betrayed at the lie. That her closest family member had liked the guy she dated for months, and not said a word. “How could you hide that from me, Lydia? That you liked him?”

“You needed him more than me.”

“That’s not for you to…” Izzy felt her anger bubble up into her voice, but she didn’t want to yell and have Lydia hang up. “I’m responsible for myself. I’m responsible for myself, and you’re responsible for yourself. You didn’t have to manage me that way. You should have said something.”

Silence on the other end.

“Were you… were you waiting for us to break up?”

“No, no. I meant it when I said I just wanted you to be happy.”

“I know,” Izzy said. She remembered their conversation on the beach. Lydia saying she was sorry.

“I tried to tell you, on the beach. I couldn’t do it. You were finally happy and thriving. You wouldn’t have stayed on the tour if you and George had broken up—you would have gone back home. It was the only way to keep you there and you wanted to be there so badly, instead of at home.”

Izzy took all this in. She felt her anger transfer somewhere else.

“Did George like you too, the whole time we were together?”

“No, no. I don’t think so. This is probably just a rebound,” Lydia said, laughing weakly. Her voice wasn’t believable.

“Why date someone I dated pretty seriously for months so quickly afterwards if it’s not even that serious for you? George just developed feelings over the last 3 days?”

“Maybe he used to have them, and then they went away when he met you. I sincerely believe that. When he met you, I think he found the answer to everything, and then it didn’t turn out like you thought - you said it wasn’t working. You said you weren’t happy.”

“Could you… is he there? Could you put him on the phone?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Izzy.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t be dating anybody right now. He’s running from something. He’s into some pretty hard stuff, Lydia—needle stuff. I saw him shooting something at that party. It’s not good. It’s not being a real artist. He’s just an addict. He needs help.”

“You don’t get—” Lydia started. “It’s different for him, for the band. They’re not regular people, Izzy, and it’s not normal life. It’s not supposed to be. And besides, he’s getting better.”

“I want you to get better too,” Izzy said. “Maybe the tour isn’t the best place for you either. I’m making a new life for myself here and it’s not what it was before. You could come home and we could—

“I’m not coming home, Izzy.”

Izzy paused. She felt like she had bungled it: she had a golden opportunity in the conversation to bring Lydia home, and she had failed. “You always can,” Izzy said.

“I know,” Lydia replied.

Izzy felt like she was back in the wreckage again and that this time she had found the whole black box. George and Lydia. George and Lydia?! George and Lydia. She remembered George pulling her out on stage at Inglewood in front of 10,000 people and telling them all that he was in love with her.

“When you said maybe he used to have them, that he maybe used to have feelings for you, what do you mean?”

Lydia ducked the question. “He was in love with you, Izzy, or the you that you let him see. His feelings for you were real.”

“Jess was right. My anxiety makes me blind. I didn’t see it, but that makes sense. Of course he liked you. But then why date me?”

“Because he really liked you. Honestly. He really, really did. The thing with Harry… it really killed his feelings, quickly. He said he could tell something was off in the last week, that you were maybe not feeling it…”

“Please don’t talk about me with him,” Izzy begged. “I can’t stand the thought of that.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“You and George. I can’t wrap my mind around it. You couldn’t have waited, like, a week or something? It just makes the whole thing - everything I went through with him - seem fake, from his side.”

“You were the one that was faking it with him. His feelings were real. Your feelings were always somewhere else.”

“I am sorry about that, that I lied to him. It didn’t feel like I was lying… I really wanted it to all be good, and I didn’t want it to stop. It wasn’t a fake relationship, though, Lydia. A lot of the moments we had were very real. This is so fast.”

“You know how things are here, how chaotic it is.” Izzy remembered where Lydia was: out in California. Maybe calling her from the apartment she was supposed to share with George.

 “He needed a decision from me on whether or not I was going on with the tour to follow Jess or staying back with him. I had to decide fast, so Jess could find somebody else… Since you didn’t want to go on with Harry like I thought maybe you would.”

“It wasn’t cool of George to put you in that position, to try to start something up so quickly with you and have you quit your job like that.”

“I still have a job, Izzy - I’m still going to be helping him with his socials. Still working for Ryan.”

“Don’t even get me started on Ryan,” Izzy said.

“I don’t like him either.”

Izzy felt herself welling up all of a sudden. Her cousin wouldn’t budge, on anything. “I’m really worried about you,” Izzy said through tears. “I’m just really worried about you. You told me once at the beginning of the tour that all I had to be was honest, so that’s what I’m trying to do, even if I failed earlier with George. Here’s the truth: I should have left earlier. The tour… it’s so good, I know. That life is so beautiful and fun, but the drugs. Did you see what happened to Tara? And George is in so much trouble, and the drugs are causing the problem and are also the way that he runs from it. You just can’t do that stuff, Lydia. You don’t have to—you can still have so much fun out there without needing a bump.”

“You’re the one that ran,” Lydia said.

Izzy sighed.

“You’ve forgotten how good it is out here,” Lydia continued. “Come back. Come back to the beach. Harry will be here for more shows in January. Izzy, I know that you’re in love with him.” Izzy almost dropped the phone. “Don’t you see? Everything that is meant to happen is happening. Me and George, and you and Harry.”

Izzy put her hand up to her face. “It doesn’t feel like everything is working out,” Izzy said. “It feels like a fucking plane crash. I still don’t understand what happened. You’re not telling me everything.”

“I just want you to be happy, Izzy.”

“I just want you to be happy!”

“Come back out here,” Lydia repeated.

“Come home,” Izzy said.

“I love you. I’ll call again soon.”

“I love you too,” Izzy said. “Please be careful.”

Lydia hung up.

Izzy stared down at her phone, hoping and praying that she had dreamed the conversation somehow. That she would wake up. But no, it was real. George and Lydia. 

Izzy sat down in the middle of her floor. 

Tears started to fall down her cheeks. She felt volcanically angry at George and so, so worried about her cousin. The conversation ended so quickly, the opportunity to talk Lydia into doing something else just slipped away. Lydia hadn’t even sounded like herself: she normally asked questions and listened, instead of spewing advice. Izzy reprimanded herself for not listening better and asking more questions herself; maybe that would have helped Lydia see how insane and fast this was. The anger and anxiety climbed up Izzy’s body like fire, burning her scalp. Izzy put her face in her hands and sobbed. She wanted something to cut the feeling, to take the edge off—a bump, anything. But there was nothing to do but to cry. Who was she going to call to complain? Harry? Harry who hadn’t responded to any of her messages? She was crying about him, too. Her heart was broken. A bitter thought, one she thought she destroyed, resurfaced: Sometimes I think love is for other people. 

The next morning, Izzy skipped her first class at the community college. Noon rolled around and she went downstairs, happy to help her mom catch a break by taking over the register at the store. Sitting behind the counter, looking out at the familiar street past the mannequins, Izzy felt her old life pulling her in like quicksand. She felt numb. It all seemed too hard, all of a sudden, like it had before she went on the tour: trying to get a real job, trying to move out. She felt wounded and just wanted to hide back where it was safe. The store was easier and she felt her daydreams calling her; she could just put in her headphones now and drift away. Her thoughts darted back to that first night at the concert, dancing with Meg and Lydia. George slinging his arm around her shoulders in the green room. Waking up on the plane. Lying with Harry in the grass at the co-op under the wisteria. Climbing up on that streetlight. She could sit here and remember it forever. She checked her phone again. Still no message from Harry. Not one.

There was another possibility, too: she could run. The keys to a house or a hut or a piece of land in Italy were sitting upstairs in her room, a total surprise—an unexpected gift from the past. And Mrs. Shepherd wanted her to go. That means I should go, right? Izzy wanted to run. The smoke from the crash wasn’t clearing, it was getting thicker. She couldn't see at all. She hadn’t seen clearly for months, just like Jess said. How had she missed George and Lydia and whatever feelings and vibes there were? She wanted out. She thought about Lydia’s offer, fleeing back to California. What would she even do there? Sleep on Lydia and George’s couch, hang out at the studio, maybe OD and end up at the hospital like Tara? 

Izzy felt like she was melting into her chair behind the cash register where she had spent so much time. She was supposed to go to the plant nursery in the afternoon to sign her health insurance paperwork. This third option, between staying and running, now seemed impossible—the little plan she had made with Olivia seemed too hard: the new job, the new training and later, a new apartment.  

Izzy twisted around to the three-pane mirror and surveyed her slumped over, fragmented reflection. She thought about Mrs. Shepherd and her own grandmother, Ila. Moving to America, building a life piece by piece. She thought about her mom, fighting to keep everything together. Surviving, despite losing her mom and sister.

The jingle of the shop door opening brought Izzy out of her fog. Olivia stood at the threshold, dressed for her new job at the music store. She eyed Izzy up and down and her eyes went soft.

“I felt there was something going on with George and Lydia,” she said. “Not while you were together, but there are vibes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your responsibility,” shrugged Izzy.

“Let’s go. You have your paperwork, and I have my first shift.”

“I’m feeling kind of tired,” Izzy said. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Let’s go,” Olivia said, more assertively than Izzy had ever heard her speak. Whatever twinge of anger Izzy felt at Olivia for holding information back faded away. Izzy stood up, switched the store sign to closed, and let Olivia march her to the nursery, where she felt like she could take deep breaths again. Izzy filled in her details, signed all the forms, and even had an impromptu training shift from the eccentric owner, Reedy, about the importance of spritzing the ferns hourly. The next day, she made it to her 8 AM class. The day after that, she did it again. Time seemed to speed up. One step followed another. After George posted the first photo of him and Lydia together, Izzy deleted Instagram from her phone. She worked and went to class. By the end of November, She had saved up almost $6,000 living at home and working. On Saturdays, she worked at the store, and to keep busy, on Sundays she added an extra shift at the nursery. The busyness dulled down the constant ringing in her head: is Lydia okay is Lydia okay is Lydia okay. The ringing had started soon after Izzy joined the tour, and grew deafening after that phone call. She and Lydia sent polite texts back and forth, so superficial that they broke Izzy’s heart. Olivia got an apartment, and when her roommate fell through in December, Izzy moved in. The apartment was above a dentist’s office near the community college: not glamorous at all. It definitely wasn’t the Riot Hyatt—but it was better, because it was all theirs. The rent was $1,200 per month, enough for them to split while still saving; they curtained off the living room to turn it into Izzy’s bedroom. They painted the walls blue and purple and had laughing fits while trying to pull off the painter’s tape off cleanly. Izzy put a record player in her room and had Meg and Lauren over to celebrate her new place, toasting with the cheapest red wine they could find in recycled jars over a table made of milk crates. Izzy loved working at the nursery and was learning more and more about all the species she had admired but couldn’t name before. She was doing well in her courses, but not letting her anxiety drive her into a perfectionist frenzy. For 2023, with Olivia’s encouragement, Izzy planned to sign up for landscape architecture courses. She daydreamed about the best parts of the tour, and tried not to ruminate on everything that went wrong. She remembered how Harry had embraced her even after he found out about her lack of experience—and Meg’s kind words, years ago: love is for you too, Izzy. 

It was a good thing that Izzy got a steep discount on plants at the nursery, because she had so many in her room she had trouble getting to her book collection sometimes: two giant Caladium Moonlights arched around them, leaves resting on the shelves. Olivia hung up her guitars in the living room and Izzy played sometimes in the evening. Olivia sometimes Facetimed with Lisa, Jess, and Tara. Izzy always found an excuse to go out. 

Olivia moved around the house in a light, easy way that Izzy admired; the musician was so relieved to be out from under Ryan’s thumb, out of the constant pressure of the live performances. Olivia played the guitar and worked on some new melodies some evenings. Izzy found herself smiling more often, her shoulders loosening up. She really admired Olivia, who was a lot more steely than she let on: she was strong. Olivia seemed like a fragile, floaty, spiritual person on the tour, but she was actually rock solid—otherwise, Izzy realized, she would have been totally crushed by the band. Copying Olivia’s example, Izzy painted a green and pink mural of abstract shapes on the wall opposite her bed, and had dragged in bookshelves they found on a curb in the snow and cleaned up. Just as she had done with her clothes in New York, she chose furniture that really felt like her; her new bedroom was colorful and warm, so different than the brown room she had escaped. The keys to the house in Italy collected dust on top of a small pile of books.

Izzy was doing what she had expected to do before the accident derailed her, but it was all so different than it might have been because of what she learned on the tour. One afternoon just before Christmas, Izzy sat in her new bed and looked out her windows, partially fogged up from all the humidity the plants created. She felt proud of herself. She hadn’t chosen to run or stay. Instead, she went with the third option: grow.

Still, sometimes Izzy felt a restlessness tugging on her sleeves, tickling her wrists and ankles. She knew what the feeling was. Lying in her bed alone at night, her mind always ran back to that voice, those eyes, those hands: Elisabetta. I know I’m not the only one. You’re so nice, and I hate that about you.

Suddenly, it was Christmas. She and Olivia would start new courses in the second week of January, so they had a bit of a break for the week between the 25th and New Years: Izzy only had a few shifts, and planned to spend a ton of time with Meg, who had finally earned some vacation time three months into her new gig.

On Christmas Day, the sky was grey but bright and Izzy went over to her parents’ first thing in the morning. She took the bus over to her parents’ apartment as a grown up for the first time—presents under her arm, side dish she made in her own oven carefully balanced in one hand. Her mom and dad had put up the tree, like every year, with lots of homemade decorations from the store’s most glittery fabric samples. Boxing Day Sale posters piled up in Izzy’s old room, which had become an office of sorts. And her mom seemed fine, happy—almost excited. Izzy felt grateful. Christmas at home was more beautiful than she remembered, because it no longer happened in a place she was trying to escape.

For the first time, Izzy didn’t notice presents under the Christmas with her name on them. After breakfast, her parents opened their gifts (a dark, soft bolt of silk Izzy had found at the thrift store, and a history of baseball book for her dad). Once the wrapping paper was cleared away, her mom slid a small piece of paper across the table to Izzy.

“Just for a week,” her mom said. “Do you think you and Meg would like to go? We have two tickets.”

Izzy unfolded the sheet of paper. On it, a flight itinerary to Sicily.“I can’t accept this, mom—it’s way too much.”

Her mom took Izzy’s hand and shook her head. She explained that she had been to Italy several times while her mother was still alive, and returning now was too painful for her.

“The store is doing well,” her dad said. “Don’t worry about us. This is what Ila would have wanted for you.”

Mrs. Shepherd’s words boomed in Izzy’s mind: Go! Dance! It wasn’t running if she was just going for a week, right?

…

Izzy knew she made the right choice when she saw the blue of the Mediterranean from the window of the plane. It was so pretty that it looked impossible, unreal. She had never been to Europe. Never been outside the country.

Two bus rides and one 2 mile walk later, Izzy, Meg, and Olivia came to a stop in a cloud of gold dust on a gravel road that wound along the sea. It was about 80 degrees, and the sun was bright and warm. Google Maps said they were at the house, but they only saw a heavy, sunken iron gate in the middle of a long, crumbling stone wall.

The land was scrubby and hard, tall brown grass and dark green groves of olives and figs and blood oranges. The air smelt like lemons and salt. Cactuses and palm trees stretched up behind the wall, dangling orange studded fruits over  at them—Ficodindia di San Cono, prickly pear, as Izzy had learned from a local influencer she had been following. This area of Sicily was usually pretty quiet, but it had been getting more and more popular; a bougie seaside resort had opened near the next town and some celebrities had even parked their yachts off the coast in the summer.

“It’s giving Under the Tuscan Sun,” Meg said. Izzy reached out and grabbed one of the fruits, and the three of them split it, while staring at the gate. They had walked two miles to get to the address. Izzy had the keys in her hands. She was so glad that Olivia and Meg decided to join her: Meg took the free flights as a “sorry I cost you your job” gift from Izzy, and Olivia had saved up enough to come on her own. Staying at the hostel helped, and everything in Sicily had been dirt cheap so far.

Olivia dropped her thrifted backpack. Meg did the same.

The gate was obviously rusted shut.

“We should probably go back into town and get someone,” Izzy said. As she was saying it, Olivia hopped over one of the crumbling stone walls.

“Get who?” Meg asked. “A blacksmith?”

Izzy heard an “oh my god” from the other side of the wall. 

“Remember the last time we broke in somewhere?” Meg asked with a smile.

“The first concert, Lydia shoving us through the backstage no access doors,” Izzy said. 

They looked at the gate.

Izzy unclipped her backpack, dropped it with a THUD, and hopped over. Meg followed her.

The house was small; stone, with a slate roof, and three windows upstairs over a centered door. But Izzy honestly barely noticed it: she was looking at the garden. Meg put her hands on her shoulders and they gazed at it in awe.

The house sank into a rolling field of yellow flowers that grew over tangled, knotty roots of old olive trees before disappearing over an edge with the blue sea behind it: the house was on a cliff overlooking the water. Each window had a flower box stuffed with purple anemones and bougainvillea vines of pink flowers climbed up the left side and covered the chimney.  Heavy aloe plants guarded the house on each corner and poppies grew out of the stone steps leading up to the door. A gardener lived here: not just a gardener, but some sort of plant genius. The house hadn’t been rented for at least ten years. It had been her great grandparents’, and her grandmother Ila had left it behind before she turned 20 for a new life.

Meg took the keys from Izzy’s hands and walked up to the house, Olivia following her, while Izzy walked around it to look at the ocean. A falling-down fence rooted in place by tall grasses held back the flowers from the cliff, which was a short drop down to a white sand beach. Steps worn by the seawater led up to a small opening in the fence; the gardener had planted cactuses on the outside of every step, like fence posts. The house was on a small cove a few miles from the nearest town, which Izzy could just barely see around the east corner. Izzy peered around the west corner of the cove; there was a sand path leading to a connected beach, revealing miles and miles of coast line dotted with pretty houses, some old and some new. Looking at the coastline, Izzy realized why her and Lydia’s mothers always took them to the beach. It’s because it was a place that their mothers’ loved. Izzy imagined Mrs. Shepherd and Ila as girls there at the house, hopping up and down the steps to go swimming.

Izzy carefully took off her shoes and socks and walked down the steps to the water, pausing on the last one. She couldn’t believe that nothing on Instagram had captured the ocean properly: the greens and blues were so much brighter in person. Her feet sank down and water pooled around them, pulling her in. Izzy hiked up her pants and walked into the water, soothing and cool. She laughed. She had so much. The restlessness and the ringing finally left her alone.

Izzy looked back up at the house, which had six windows on the back and a stone patio under olive trees, obviously designed for the view. Olivia waved from a window on the second floor.

“Everything that’s mean to happen is happening,” Olivia called down. Izzy had always wondered where Lydia learned that phrase.

“Izzy, it’s really pretty in here,” Meg said from a nearby window. “Black and white tile floor. Every window has a flower box.”

They ran some basic errands in the village using translator apps and Izzy’s broken Italian, getting the power hooked back up to the house ($1,400!), getting the water turned back on ($260!), getting a contractor to fix the gate and some of the broken stairs inside ($2,300!), and scheduling an inspection so it could be lived in again ($430!). That night, Izzy fell asleep on the bottom bunk in their hostel room as soon as her head hit the pillow. It was New Year’s Eve the next day and she felt like a new person.

Olivia and Meg had floated several ideas to end 2022: the hostel bar was having a party, in the little gap between houses where they had built a small library and put some tables and chairs. They could celebrate at the house, with candles. Or, there was a tarot card reader doing 2023 readings out of the shop next door (the language barrier was an issue). They weren’t permitted to go back up to the house while the inspection was being conducted, so over breakfast they traded ideas. There was a beautiful old mansion that someone had snapped just a few weeks ago; it had been in ruins, but it was being fixed up. It was famous for its huge music room / library, which looked like something out of Beauty and the Beast but better in the video—Italian, baroque marble insanity with peeling gold leaf and elaborate, curling wood carvings on the shelves and ceilings. They had four more days before they were going home, and they planned to see Noto (birth place of ice cream, Meg’s choice), Giardini de Balio (the most beautiful gardens in Sicily, Izzy’s choice), and Rockerilla (music venue famous across Europe, Olivia’s choice). Izzy hadn’t come up with a plan for the house yet. The upkeep costs were minimal and she didn’t know if she wanted to rent it out or what, but she knew fixing it up would help whatever she decided to do.

Olivia made an impassioned case for going to Rockerilla, apparently one of Jess’s favorite spots and well know among real artists—it was like an overseas, Italian hangout for international rock stars. They decided they would go on their last night, to celebrate before going home (best for last).

That day, they decided to go to the mansion with the library; it was a boring enough excursion before a big New Years night out. Izzy caked herself in sunscreen and they took a bus down the dusty road over a few hills to the west of the town, past the house by over an hour, on the other side of the island. Izzy was able to ask the driver to per favore, ferma and they hopped off in front of the mansion, alone on its own hill—it was expansive, and under construction. Metal construction fences encircled the property. It was quiet; no one was on site. Huge signs in Italian with clear do not enter icons glared down at them from the fences. 

Before Izzy could ask what they  should do, Olivia was through the fence and striding toward the door. 

“This is private property!” Izzy said.

“No one is here,” Olivia called over her shoulder. “We are calm. We are relaxed.”

Meg followed Olivia.

“Meg!” Izzy cried, gesturing to the signs.

"I don’t speak Italian,” said Meg.

Izzy took a breath and stomped after them. She had already broke and entered earlier that day, into her own home. Why not go two for two? 

The villa was massive; a single story in stone with colums supporting pointed archways. It was a pretty mishmash of styles, added too over the centuries. The windows were huge, and you could see the ocean peeking through from the other side. Olivia picked up the heavy metal knocker and let it slam against the door; they could hear the loud clang echo through the house. 

There was no response to the loud knock. No one was home. Izzy turned around to leave, and Olivia turned the heavy door knob until it clicked. The door opened. They were in. Meg walked in first. Izzy shot Olivia a skeptical look.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” Olivia asked. “Could you have imagined this last summer?” Izzy shook her head, no. If she hadn’t gone on the tour, she absolutely wouldn’t be here now. She’d be in the store, behind the cash register, slowly dying inside. Izzy followed Meg inside. They were in a wide hallway in front of a small inner sanctum surrounded by columns and overgrown with ferns and shrubs. There was a ladder at one end of the hallway, and scaffolding up to the ceiling. Olivia had her phone out.

“It says it’s in the west wing, so… down there.”

“What if there’s someone here?” Izzy asked. But her concern was half hearted: the house was so beautiful, she didn’t really mind that they were breaking and entering. She was reminded a bit of the first time Lydia had shoved her and Meg through that backstage door.

They walked past a massive room, with huge wooden beams and a beautiful marble tiled floor, that was being painted. It was empty, except for a huge piano that looked new, pointed out toward the ocean. Everything else was covered in dust except the keys. None of the lights in the house were on. It was even brighter and hotter that day, but the house was cool and shadowed. Izzy took off her sunglasses and put them in her fanny pack.

“I think it’s through here,” called Olivia. She and Meg disappeared around a corner. Izzy had fallen behind them, transfixed by the piano.

She walked across the courtyard, into the library—she had found it. She could hear Olivia and Meg down the hall. Light streamed in from towering windows looking out over the ocean and the walls were lined with books, some too shiny to be that old. The ceiling had a blue and gold painting of a constellation, with ivy winding up toward it from a crack behind a huge, open stone fireplace. Izzy ran her hand along one of the tables, walking and taking in the ceiling painting. Her fingers hit on something and she stopped: she almost wiped a tea cup, saucer, and open book off the table. The tea cup was full with hot water, still steaming. Someone was home.

She heard a sharp intake of breath from outside. “Izzy?” She spun around. She could only see a silhouette against the ocean. Izzy briefly contemplated turning and running. She could run all the way back to town using anxiety alone as her fuel; that’s how much her anxiety had spiked, just hearing that voice. Her heart hammered in her ears. She walked toward the voice slowly, already knowing who it was, and seeing no other way out of the situation, though she kept trying to think of them.

When Izzy finally made it outside to the patio, the sun nearly blinded her. She blinked hard and her sunscreen ran into her eyes, so she had to drag up her shirt to dab them. It was so bright compared to the interior. The figure came into focus slowly.

“Harry,” she said, blinking the sting out of her eyes. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he replied. He wore a t-shirt over trousers with flip flops, and sunglasses that he had taken off to double check that it was really her, thousands of miles from home, standing on his patio.

“We were—we were in Italy for my family. Well, my family’s not here. Olivia made me come here. I didn’t know that anyone was home. I’m so sorry.” Izzy’s eyes burned. Strugs. 

“Your family is here?” Harry asked. His voice was open and kind, shockingly open and kind, Izzy thought, given that she had broken into his house. Is this his house? He extended a tissue toward her and she took it, hand shaking, dabbing her eyes so she could finally see straight. He came into brutal focus then: two curls coming down over his forehead, gold flecks in the green twinkling at her in the sun, and a smile on his lips almost too slight for Izzy to notice.

“My grandmother is from here,” Izzy stammered. “I inherited her house. I was here to look at the house, and Olivia said she wanted to come here to look at the library—it was listed as a tourist destination in this video. I wanted to see the gardens; I’m sort of obsessed with plants.”

“I know.”

“I had no idea… we thought it was abandoned.”

“Right,” Harry said. “I bought it a few months ago.”

“I thought you were back in California,” Izzy said, blushing deeply.

“I needed to clear my head.” Harry couldn’t look away from her.

They stood in awkward silence. Izzy couldn’t think of any social conventions to fall back on for when you break into the home of someone you once slept with, who said he was crazy in love with you and then ditched you after you said some terrible things to him. Nothing came to mind. She wanted to laugh—the whole situation was just so ridiculous. 

“Where’re you staying?” Harry asked, trying to help.

“We’re at the Ostello Estremamente Economico, about two hours away. We took the bus.” Hearing her speak Italian made Harry smile. He couldn’t help it.

“What are you doing for tonight, Izzy?”

chapter 17 -->