#Neil helps with that later though

[cubbyyyy]

Neil is there to protect the one who protects them all.

Andrew always knew how to protect. He sure has his own ways that many fail to understand but the bottom line stays the same.

With Neil coming into his life he gets to be something else than just the protector - which I want to talk about here.

The exy obsessed junkie who claims to only care about his own survival is the first one who sees beyond Andrews play - who sees that Andrew doesn’t take care of himself at all. Too busy keeping an eye on everyone to care about what happens to his own self. And Neil hates it furiously.

So Neil puts Andrew first.

Starting with his health. Exy is important to Neil but he knows Andrew needs to get off the drugs first. The foxes found it easier to deal with Andrew while he’s on drugs, so they didn’t put much effort into changing that - Neil though. Neil saw what the drugs did to Andrew. So they had to get rid off it as fast as possible.

So he makes a deal. He gives up a piece of a truth, gives a promise and makes him go take care of himself.

He punches Riko because he couldn’t stop himself.

He agrees to go to Evermore - he agrees to torture just to keep Andrew save.

Afterwards he refuses to back down his care after being explicitly told to. “If it means loosing you then no”.

After being brutally tortured, one of the first things he does is inspecting Andrews bruises. Inspecting Andrews bruises the same way Andrew inspects his. “All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?”

He told the cops off when they indicated getting Andrew off him “you’ll what, asshole?”

He was there in a heartbeat the second Andrew got pushed in the final game. And only backed off after checking Andrew was really alright.

For the first time Andrew has someone who has his back the same way he had the backs of everyone else for years. Andrew is fiercely protective and for the first time he is fiercely protected too.

“You are a pipe dream.”

[fearandhatred]

if aziraphale doesn't grab crowley by his gay little scarf in season 3 then what's the point. why does he even wear it. take that shit off if it's not important to the plot

[emry-stars-art]

@neilimfinejosten said coffee shop au last month so you’ll never guess what I’ve been thinking about

A few thoughts under the cut!

Andrew works at a coffee shop in a college town, so far with all the foxes except Aaron, and Neil’s been far away on the run. I’ve been putting Robin in this one and I bet Seth hangs around the shop for Allison. Aaron will pick up a shift or two but mostly he’s focusing on school.

Anyway one day in a cold winter a new guy comes into the shop looking to warm up, and Andrew just happens to be working the register (rare). It’s hard to tell with the mask, but this guy doesn’t seem to be much older than him or the team, and Andrew can catch glances of bandages and band-aids under his clothes.

He becomes a regular through winter, but none of the baristas can decide on his name because he gives a different one every time he comes in.

[optimisticallycyn]

Practicing April from 2012 when she’s older and joined Shini and Karai in their rebuild of the Foot Clan for the last five to eight years. I was trying a new technique I learned for shading. Going to continue working on it. And she’s the first human I’ve made in… years pretty much.

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Neil,

I want to share how I feel about Sherryl the supermodel from Good Omens. You've answered a question previously when someone felt that her representation was lacking empathy (re the visual effects note in the script book, although the scene was cut), and I want to offer my thoughts to help people who felt that way about Sherryl.

The book (Good Omens, not the scripts, which I haven't read) plays with dark topics and makes them absurd and fun, aiming the jabs at the systems that (mis)guide or harm people (there are Beliefs, the People who Believe them, and the odd ways of living that make sense to them). Famine's D-Plan sums up the diet industry and a culture of starvation: of course we don't laugh /at/ Sherryl, we understand (because of everything the novel sets up) that like every other human she does her best with the frameworks she's got. It's empathetic, because that's what Good Omens is. Understanding that let me reframe the knee-jerk reaction I had on my first read of the scene in the book.

[For the TV show, though, as you've explained in the past, certain things had to be adapted to the time. I wonder sometimes - because I know that you do these things well - how you felt about approaching Sherryl nearly 30 years later.]

I think the trouble for me was that the scene in the book felt cruel at first. Now, I think 'A skeleton in a Dior dress' beautifully sums up the sacrifice of her humanity to become New York's top model. It's death dressed up - that's how such extremely-ill supermodels *should* appear to us if only we were unblinkered. One should see plainly the actual violence in an emaciated person's appearance. Maybe growing up with early 2000s aggressive body-shaming British TV shows and an overweight mother of Sherryl's generation as well as personal experience of anorexia made the 'skeleton' image feel cruel, now-overdone and recognisable to the nastiest unhealed bits in my psyche.

I think the frightened human animal in me initially recoiled from the dehumanisation. The pit of me jerked at the descriptions of Sherryl that felt like real insults, pulled straight from mainstream body-shaming media of my formative years. Of course, Good Omens predates this - thin was in, religiously, and the scene was subversive then - but that was my initial bodily feeling, not a thoughtful response. I describe it to illustrate where the challenge was, after we've gone from skinny worship in the 90s, to domestic skinny enforcement, to skinny shame, to wherever we are now in the popular orthorexic fitness culture and clean-eating minefield etc etc. Starvation dehumanises, and Sherryl was sick to the point of being inhuman - the scene under a microscope might feel complicit in dehumanisation to the sensibilities of teens and young adults today (for the same reason that people in Trafalgar Square can't see England), but within the book it humanises Sherryl by showing you plainly what awful thing has happened to her.

What the book did for me was let me delight in a sense of humour that makes difficult things totally absurd and therefore perfectly understandable. It told me, everyone is doing their best (to the best of their understanding), and when the fun-poking poked at my own pressure points, it said, lovingly, yes, you too. Many things about the book are like laughing with a friend or receiving a warm hug - it makes the big things so silly, and shared, and okay.

Thanks :) x <3

I am glad that is how you saw her. That is how we saw her. (I'm reminded of the only time I was ever at a high fashion event, where I found myself profoundly shocked by the incredible thinness of the models, and how sorry for them I felt, and how I wanted to feed them soup and stew and sandwiches. And of a high fashion model I knew a little, when she went out with a friend of mine, who told me that some girls she knew used heroin to stop the hunger pains, injecting themselves between their toes, and later I learned that my friend broke up with her when he learned she was a heroin addict.)

[bisexualchaosdemon]

Twins run in the family.

Aaron and Katelyn get married after graduating from Palmetto, before they go off to med school together. It takes them pretty far from Andrew, but they work to keep in touch.

In the last year of their four year MDs, Kate gets pregnant — A happy accident. Then, they find out they're having twins, just, holy fuck. Kate is determined to not let it slow her down, though, because she's a bad bitch. Then Andrew suggests that they move closer to him and Neil once they graduate.

This leads to a few long and difficult conversations. Andrew admits that he would like to see Aaron more and to have a relationship with his nieces. Aaron admits that he does miss Andrew being close by and that they could use the extra support. In the end, they agree after Andrew actually apologies to Katelyn for the way he treated her in the beginning.

No one regrets the decision. Aaron and Katelyn are beyond grateful for the support as they start their careers. Andrew absolutely adores his nieces, more so than he ever thought he could. Neil is happy because Andrew is happy.

But it isn't always easy. It's hard because they both see it; the girls are what Andrew and Aaron could have been if they were never separated. If Tilda had been capable of being a good mother to her twins. And it fucking hurts.

Somehow, this pain leads to Aaron planting a seed in Andrew's mind — What if Andrew and Neil were to start fostering? Andrew thinks his brother has finally lost it. It's ludicrous, insane, impossible, but– Is it? Helping foster kids could be nice, and it's not like they can't stop if it's too much.

Once Neil has his own separate crisis about it, they decide to go for it. Andrew and Neil sure as hell know how not to raise a kid and they have yet to completely traumatise any of the kids in their lives. So a fuck ton of paperwork and hoop-jumping later, they find themselves in a group home to see if there's a kid there they can help.

That's when they find not one kid, but two. Tucked away in a corner they find twin girls, maybe a year younger than Aaron's girls, who only speak Russian. They hadn't intended to jump in at the deep-end like that, but something about them puts Andrew on alert. So they take the girls home with them.

And it is so, so much harder than they had expected. They had only prepped for one kid, but that's easily fixed. It's not so easy to fix the fact that the girls absolutely do not trust them. But Andrew and Neil are persistent; they don't push for trust, but they make sure to prove to the girls that they are safe at every turn.

Slowly, achingly slowly, the girls start to relax. They start to open up. And Andrew realises something so much worse than the pain that got them here.

Andrew realises that his twins are like him and Aaron too, but if Tilda left them both in the system. They are the real life result of his own worst nightmare.

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart pt. 2.5

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 1.2k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol,

summary: ellie gets your phone number.

author notes: hi just something small for a filler, setting up for the next part, hoping to have it posted up friday the 1st! thank you for reading! pls reblog, comment, or like! i love the support, and thank you for over 1000 likes and 100 followers!! it’s a great feeling

italic = ellie and bold = reader

part 2.5 | part 3

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

its been a week and a half since you last saw her when she drove you home from the match in her old busted truck. thoughts of her plagued your mind all week. you wondered if she was working. you wondered if she was out with friends. you wondered if she was thinking about you. she is but you don’t know that. you’re not aware she’s thinking of you also. thinking of the way the smell of strawberries stained her car after you left. thinking of the way you said you like it when she calls you sweetheart.

both of you wonder when the next time you’ll see each other is.

its a wednesday afternoon, you’re currently sitting on the couch with dina. she’s the only friend you have down here so far and its not weird that she’s dating your brother. she has come over a bunch, helping you shop, getting little things for your apartment, watching movies and of course, getting high. which is exactly what you’re doing right now. you both sat on your old lumpy couch and watched the iron man series that you had on dvd, not paying to much attention to the tv, but rather your conversion.

“so no luck still? you should just come work with me at the farm, i mean i love it- the horse shit not so much.” dina exclaimed.

“yeah its like no one is hiring, i may have to take you up on that, i still wanna keep looking though, maybe something will come along.” you told her.

“yeah avoid horse shit as long as you can, something will come along don’t worry!” she said trying to make you feel better knowing you’re stressed. but at the end of the day, you need something to fill your time besides thinking of the boxer that drove you home.

you guys just sat and talked then eventually as the credits rolled for the last movie, you got up and started to clean up the mess from the pizza you ordered earlier. after you went to the kitchen and put the plates in the sink, you grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses and made your way back to dina still in the living room. you hold it up to her and with the look on her face, you knew she was thinking the same thing.

by the third bottle, it was 10pm and you’ve run out of weed and not much wine left but you both are feeling great, laughing and giggling like kids. its nice to have a friend you thought.

“what are you doing friday night?” she questioned.

you responded to her, “probably exactly what im doing right now” you both laughed.

“well there’s another match this weekend, me and jesse are going if you want to come along again, ellie will be there too.” she replied. you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when she said her name.

“woah! what’s with the smiling and the blushing…” she joked asking. you didn’t tell either of them what happened that night at the first match. from outside or inside, they assumed you both got an uber and you didn’t tell them any differently.

“nothing, i just thought she was nice thats all.” you said trying not make any signs of anything more.

“oh she is!,” dina started, “well maybe not at first but once you get to know her, we’ve been friends for years now,” she laughed and kept going, “she fights at the gym sometimes, but she works there too, its a good hang out space plus cheap drinks. plus she’s bringing us the restock.” she finished as she picked up her weed jar.

“oh you get it from her?” you inquired, thinking back to the faint smell of weed in her car when she drove you home.

“yeah she’s got good stuff and nice deals, ugh its great, always easier to get it from someone you know,” she ended. you thought about asking her if you could tell her to get you some to and for some other non-obvious reason but she beat you to it.

“ill send her your number and she’ll text you.” she said to you as she pulled out her phone and sent a message. a few moments later, her phone rang and she answered, it was jesse waiting outside for her so she gave you a hug and grabbed her stuff and you walked her to the door.

you locked it before you turned around to sit back down on the couch, grabbed the wine glass and poured the last bit in your cup, you were still drunk and definitely feeling it. you heard your phone buzz and you picked it up, answering the call, not paying attention, thinking it was dina but the voice surprised you.

hey sweetheart

you didn’t expect her to call so soon, you haven’t even given yourself a moment to think about what to say beforehand. you weren’t prepared for this. you feel yourself getting nervous over the girl you only met last week but you just cant help it. she’s been on your mind since you met her.

hi ellie

dina sent me your number i hope that’s okay

yes she said she was going to

well in that case, she said you needed to buy

yeah we managed to smoke up all her stash and i haven’t gotten any since i moved here, probably cause i didn’t know where to get it

well no worries, i’ve got everything you need sweetheart.

thank you ellie, you said smiling but she couldn’t see you through the phone, you wondered what she’d think if she saw how red your face was right now.

you can call me el sweetheart, no need to be so formal.

she laughed through the phone, and then asked if you were coming to the gym on friday with your brother and dina.

they invited me but i hadn’t thought about it yet, not wanting to sound too eager about the potential thought of seeing her on friday.

mhm- well you should, we’re just gonna have some drinks and chill so nothing crazy. but i will have the weed for you then if that peaks your interest.

bribing me with drugs?, you laugh into the phone and she laughs with you.

if that’s how you want to put it sweetheart, sure

you smiled into the phone, not even sure how to respond to that before becoming flustered, before you continued,

i guess we’ll just have to wait and see then…

yeah i guess we will… goodnight sweetheart.

that was the last thing she said before she hung up and you sat staring back at a black screen. thinking that now she has your number and you have hers.

it’s almost 11 now as you brush your teeth, throw on a t shirt and cuddle up in bed. falling asleep to the thoughts of how friday was going to go when you finally saw her again.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book. 

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about. 

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90” or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.” 

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.” 

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

[writethrough]

Bad Boy Type

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.

Warnings: Mentions of Neil, extreme fluff, mutual pining (because I'm a whore for that shit), language

Word Count: 4056

A/N: This might be the fluffiest thing I've written. It's also the longest. And yes, I still have requests to finish. But life really said, "It's Billy's time," and I'm not mad about it.

You were fiercely protective over Max and El since you met. They became the younger sisters you never had. You’d do anything for them. And you always made sure to plan something with them as often as possible.

Today, you three were holed up at Max and Billy’s new place. It wasn’t much. It was a steal since it’d been so run down no one else wanted it. You and the rest of your group helped fix up what you could. After everything you’d all been through, it created an untouchable bond. And everyone was eager to help in whatever way they could, especially once Max confided in you about Billy’s father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Neil was a shitty person. He gave off enough hostility to power a freight train. A few months after renovating, the house was finally livable. And between your car and Billy’s, they moved within the hour.

All three of you were on the floor around the coffee table, snacking on candy and discussing very important business.

“Okay, okay,” Max said, trying to rein in her laughter. “El, kiss, marry, kill…The Outsiders.”

You grinned and leaned closer as El looked down in thought.

“Kiss Sodapop, marry Johnny, and…I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said timidly.

And because it was El, you and Max accepted that.

You faced Max. “I’m guessing yours would be the same?”

“I’m killing Steve,” she added, and you snickered. “What about you?”

You hummed, running through the characters before picking three.

“Kill Two-Bit, kiss Darry, marry Dally,” you said with a nod.

“Dally’s an asshole!” Max groaned, slapping her thighs.

“But he’s hot,” you countered.

“But he’s an asshole,” she repeated, giving you a look.

“But he’s hot.”

After a few seconds, you all started giggling. You really loved spending time with these two.

El grew quiet, deep in thought, and she made you and Max stop laughing with her question.

“What about Billy?”

Your brow furrowed. “Billy?”

She nodded. “Would you marry him?”

Your face grew warm. Did El think because you liked the bad boy character in a film, you liked one in reality?

Billy had never been outright rude to you—his attitude rubbed you the wrong way—cocky and smug like he knew he could get away with almost anything. It wasn’t until after the Mind Flayer that you befriended him.

You’d describe your friendship as…quiet. You didn’t hang out together—only in a group with everyone or Steve and the other adults. Usually, though, you saw him most when you, Max, and El hung out.

You were the girls’ friend first and foremost. When you started picking Max up when they lived with their parents, he always scowled at you through the door as she raced to your car. Later, you thought it had something to do with Neil’s reactions to his stepdaughter not being home even though he knew where Max was. You had enough knocks on the door from Billy to put two and two together.

Now, Billy was relaxed when you picked her up or stayed over. You sometimes wondered if he was glad Max had you to rely on now that it was just him and his stepsister. If she ever needed anything, he could count on you to lend him a hand.

So while he wasn’t the same rage-filled boy you knew in high school, his reputation still preceded him. Though now you knew him in a different light—provider, protector, and maybe that was why you started to like him.

You shook your head to rid yourself of that thought.

“I…Well, I…I don’t…” Jesus Christ! How were you supposed to answer this without giving yourself away?

Just then, a car door slammed. Billy’s home.

He threw his jacket on the hook and his keys on the table and stopped when he noticed you, Max, and El.

His eyes seemed to linger on you before addressing everyone.

“Hey,” he said, mentally kicking himself. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say? Maybe “you look nice,” not “hey.”

“How was work,” you asked, still trying to shake off El’s question and the fact that he walked in as if summoned.

“Fine. Didn’t know you’d be over.” He would've cleaned up and made it look nice. Maybe then he could cook you dinner.

He had to stop from asking if this little get-together was overnight. He sure hoped so.

“I dragged her out of her house for girls' day. They’re sleeping over, too,” Max said. Maybe she could read his mind—maybe that was why most of your time was spent at Billy’s place and not yours—because Max knew he needed an excuse to talk to you since the Mind Flayer.

He nodded slowly and gestured toward the bathroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Order pizza or I can make spaghetti?” he asked.

You tilted your head at his words. Billy cooked?

It made sense. You’re sure he’s had to fend for himself most of his life. You just never thought about him in the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, El said, “I like spaghetti.” And that seemed to settle it.

When Billy left, Max leaned forward. “Don’t worry, he’s actually a really good cook.”

And to play off your daydreams of Billy cooking you breakfast, you said, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

—

When Billy emerged from the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you were both relieved and disappointed your back faced him.

The girls were telling you their boyfriend troubles, and it took everything in you not to imagine the remaining water tracing Billy’s toned stomach.

“Sometimes I think you have the right idea,” Max said, flopping back in the chair.

You blinked, coming back to reality. “Me? What idea is that?”

“Being single.” She shrugged. “Boys are a pain in the ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “While that is true, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have my person, you know?”

“Your person?” El asked, furrowing her brow.

“Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. They accept every part of you, good and bad.” You sighed. “They're the person you want to be around the most.”

She looked at you seriously. “We are your person.”

It nearly brought tears to your eyes. One of the many reasons you loved El was her heart.

“C’mere,” you whispered, holding open your arms.

She scootched toward you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“You too.” You motioned Max over.

That’s how Billy found you three, hugging each other on the couch like you were trying to absorb into one being.

“Am I interrupting some girl thing?” he asked, opening the cabinet.

You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “No, you’re fine.” You looked over the back of the couch. “Anything I can help with?”

He gave you a flirty smile. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

It didn’t take long for him to announce it was ready, and you all grabbed your plates and huddled around the coffee table again. A little thrill went through you when Billy sat beside you, taking your dish from you and setting it down so you could lower yourself.

It was quiet for a few minutes as you all took your first bites. It was only pasta and marinara sauce, but it hit the spot. Maybe it was because Billy made it.

“I’m impressed,” you said, waving your fork around your plate.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Billy mused, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Does this mean you’ll marry Billy?”

You nearly choked on the bite you took. You wished she could read minds so you could scream, “Not the freaking time!”

Billy’s face flushed as he glanced between you two.

“Am I missing something?” He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. You wanted to marry him? Well, no. It sounded like you didn’t want to marry him. Why didn’t you want to marry him?

“No,” you said quickly. Billy tried to convince himself his chest didn’t constrict at that word. 

“(Y/N) would marry Dally,” El said. “And Dally’s an asshole.”

You put your face in your hands. There was no stopping her.

“And I’ve called you an asshole so many times.” Max provided as an explanation.

Billy could only look at you, and as you curled further in on yourself, he smirked—even though he’d been called an asshole twice—maybe there was something to El’s question.

“Didn’t think you were into that type,” he said, leaning back against the couch.

“I’m not. Not really.” You couldn’t look at him, opting to push the noodles around your plate.

“No? Then what is your type, sweetheart?”

He was teasing you. You could push back with teasing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s why I asked.” And the way he said it, it took on a seriousness you weren’t prepared for—like he really wanted to know because he cared about the answer. Like it meant something to him.

“I—”

The phone saved you. And Max jumped up.

“It’s probably Lucas,” she said. They’d been having a good week.

You took the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna change.”

You grabbed your things and closed the bathroom door.

—

Billy watched as you fled. It was cute how flustered he could make you. And that’s when an idea struck him.

With you and Max busy, he turned to El.

“You think she likes me?” he asked, leaning toward her.

“Do you mean like like?” She stared at him with those big innocent eyes.

He nodded.

“I think so.”

“You think so? She hasn’t said anything to you or Max? Girls talk about that stuff at girls' night, right?” He bit his cheek. Was he reading the signs wrong? Were his feelings clouding his judgment?

Since his recovery, you’ve always been there. You made sure he took care of himself and kept an eye on Max. When he told you about the rundown little place he found, you got Hopper on board to pull a few strings and help remodel. Hell, you got everyone to help.

He still remembered the day you painted the walls, and you and Robin put handprints on each other's chests. He and Steve had said, “What about us,” and you and Robin fitted them with their own set. He still had that shirt.

Even the shit that went down with Steve. You were somehow able to mend things between them. It took a lot of work, and arguments popped up, but with you there, he did it. He didn’t have many friends at Hawkins High—they were a means to an end. However, now? He had ones that would have his back in an apocalyptic world. And it was because of you.

You were his rock, even if you didn’t know it. And he wanted to be that person for you.

“She doesn’t tell us,” El said. “But she looks at you the way Nancy looks at Jonathan.”

He knew the look she was talking about, and he hoped she was right.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“You…You like her, right?” she asked tentatively.

He smiled fondly. “More than Eggos.”

El giggled.

He shook his head slightly, smile remaining, mumbling, “Just want her ‘round all the time.”

She beamed, but before she could say another word, you and Max returned.

—

Everyone seemed to forget about the conversation before the phone rang. When you came out of the bathroom, El asked if you could start watching movies, and Max quickly put The Karate Kid in.

What surprised you the most was Billy making popcorn and bringing everyone a soda. You thought he’d retreat to his room like he usually did, but he sat next to you on the couch as the girls spread out on the floor with their own bowl of popcorn.

Halfway through the movie, the sun had set, and the air grew cooler. You rubbed your arm absentmindedly, focused on the screen. You vaguely noticed Billy disappearing somewhere, and when he returned, he held a sweatshirt.

Your heart sped up a little at his offer.

You played it off and raised an eyebrow when he handed it to you.

“You’re cold, right,” he asked, putting it in your lap when you didn’t take it right away.

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I’m just shocked you own a sweatshirt.”

He rolled his eyes but held back a smile. “Very funny.” Then when he was settled. “Indiana’s fucking cold.”

You slipped it over your head, the material warming and engulfing you in his scent. Bunching the sleeves into your fists, you leaned against the cushion and tucked your legs under you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

The movie soon ended, and Max inserted the second film.

Neither you nor Billy spoke after that. It was…nice...being there with him.

Between him and his sweatshirt, you were surrounded by warmth. The noise from the TV lulled into the background, and before you knew it, you were asleep.

Billy noticed almost immediately. He’d been arguing with himself about whether to put an arm around you after he gave you his hoodie.

After the shit he went through, Billy didn’t go after women. He was so in his head about what he’d done—what the monster made him do—he thought everyone was better off if he stayed away. And his body wasn’t the same afterward. Part of him wondered if you’d recoil if he touched you.

And then your head was on his shoulder. Your soft breathing in his ear. And he froze for a second. But then he sunk into you.

If this was the only time you’d be this close to him, he would take it.

He carefully moved his arm to pull you closer, and you shifted in your sleep to snuggle into him. He let his cheek rest against your head for one…two…three…four…five seconds, then lifted back up. He didn’t want Max or El to catch him and ask questions.

It wasn’t long until the movie ended, and the girls were passed out on the floor. And Billy debated staying right where he was, but he knew he shouldn’t.

He did indulge and place a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head before laying you down and pulling a blanket over you. He did the same for El and Max. And once the VHS was safely back in its case, he walked to his room with a final look at you thrown over his shoulder.

—

When the rising sun hit your eyelids, all you wanted was to turn over and go back to sleep. The sizzle of a frying pan and the smell of pancakes made you sit up.

Billy was by the stove, waiting to flip them and keeping a watchful eye on the bacon.

“Smells good,” you whispered, mindful of the two sleeping girls. Billy’s sweatshirt protected you from the morning chill.

He glanced at you and quirked his lips up. “It’s almost ready.”

You gave him a small smile in return, and it took you a moment to realize he had never done this before. Dinner was one thing, but breakfast was entirely different.

“What brought this on?” you asked, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to impress you again.” He finally turned around to face you and crossed his arms, spatula in hand.

You let out a breathy laugh, looking down before eyeing the cooking pancakes.

“Don’t let them fold in on themselves when you flip them, and you’re golden,” you teased. 

He raised a brow at you, turned around, and seamlessly flipped both over before setting the spatula down and facing you once more.

You held your hands up in surrender. “Consider me impressed.”

“Good.” He pulled a mug out of the cabinet for himself. “You sleep okay?”

You shrugged. “Good enough. Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”

He would have gladly lent you his bed. He didn’t even need to be in it with you. He would’ve taken the small couch he had crammed in his room.

“Good thing you don’t snore. I think Max would’ve suffocated you,” he said.

You bumped your shoulder with his. “She likes me too much.”

You stared at each other for a moment. Something about Billy in the morning, with the soft light from the sun reflecting in his eyes and shading his hair, was almost breathtaking. He was relaxed, and you hoped it slowly became his new normal.

His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you swore you stopped breathing until you glanced away and saw the pancakes.

“Better watch before they burn,” you said, swallowing to rid yourself of your dry throat.

He had forgotten about them as he took you in. From your pajamas to your still-sleepy gaze and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—you seemed so…at home here.

He tried to shake that thought as he plated breakfast and set it down at the kitchen table.

You could lean against the counter every morning, sipping coffee as he made you both breakfast. He’d peck your lips each time he passed you for something, and as he waited for things to finish cooking, he would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his nose in your hair. Your arms would tighten around his waist, and you’d both stand there, completely content as the warm rays filtered in.

Since last night, since El’s question, a spark had ignited within him. The flicker of…hope, something he hadn’t felt since…since…he didn’t even know when. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly, but if El saw a connection between him and Dally, then maybe you did too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been a dick in the past. He was still trying to correct those mistakes. But where Dallas Winston had Johnny, Billy had…well…the closest he could think of was you.

And potentially having a life with you? That didn’t sound too bad. Not at all.

You sat across from one another. You could feel Billy’s eyes on you. When you glanced up from your breakfast, he gave you a smirk as if to say, “Impressed?”

You were about to speak, but he beat you to it.

“So, we didn’t finish our discussion last night.”

“Discussion?” You tilted your head.

He nodded and tried to keep his smug smirk at bay. “You into the bad boy type, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened before you covered your face with your hand. “Didn’t the time for this pass?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon, tell me, what’s it about him that gets you goin’?”

You shook your head and attempted to suppress your smile. Even though this was embarrassing, you still found Billy cute.

“I’m not doing this with you and that dirty mind of yours. It’s too early. Besides, the girls are still sleeping,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh please, Max used to hear me with girls.” He stated it like a fact, without pride or accomplishment in his voice.

“I know. She’s complained to me multiple times,” you said matter-of-factly.

He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing pink. It surprised you.

He shrugged as if to shake off his actions. “Guess Winston and I are different then.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.” You hoped your smile told him that it really wasn’t a bad thing—that you genuinely liked the person he was growing into—that you cared for him.

“Hope so,” he said softly, taking a bite.

You could’ve stayed there and stared at him for the rest of the day. His eyes were so blue, his hair still a bit messy, and he just looked…he just looked content.

You wanted to reach across the table, grab his hand, hold it between yours and trace each finger. Maybe he’d stop you by pulling your hand to his lips. Maybe, you’d follow with your own.

And as soon as that thought reared its head, Max and El strolled into the kitchen.

“You made pancakes?” Max’s face scrunched up.

“We have guests,” Billy said with a shrug. Like he was concerned with being a good host.

At least for you, he was.

“When has that forced you to do anything?” she asked, stacking her plate.

You locked eyes with Billy from across the table and smiled shyly.

—

“So, you coming here next week?” he asked, putting your bag in the backseat for you.

You shook your head. “It’s at mine next week. Parents are away for a few days. I was thinking of making it an all-weekend thing.”

He slowly nodded, disappointed he wouldn’t see you—only to drop Max off and pick her up.

“Just let me know when I can get the shitbird out of my hair.” It’s all he thought to say to hide his discontentment.

You pursed your lips. It was now or never. “Actually, I was thinking—if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come over, too? I know it’s technically ‘girls' night,’ but…last night was really nice.”

He tried to keep his face neutral, make it seem like he wasn’t experiencing heart palpitations, but his smile couldn’t stay hidden. It made you immediately relax.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

The way he looked at you sent shivers up your spine and heat through your veins. It was like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d never seen him have this warmth in his gaze. Like he’d happily follow you anywhere and listen to every word you said.

You returned his smile with a gentle one of your own. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly.

He really was beautiful in the sunlight. His skin full of its own sun. You were so close to each other earlier that you felt it radiating off him. It took everything in you not to rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle in.

He took a step forward, resting a hand on the roof of your car. “You gonna make me sleep on the floor at yours?”

You lightly bit your lip. And fuck, you were in for the best kind of trouble. “Depends on how much you impress me.”

“And what do I have to do to make that happen?” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.

You tried to repress your smile as you leaned to whisper in his ear. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips. He shivered when your breath hit his skin.

“You’ll have to figure it out.” You pulled back with a little smirk, and he let out a soft chuckle.

His gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand came up to caress your cheek, grazing his thumb there.

“Not even a little hint?” he asked teasingly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You pushed your head further into his hand.

He hummed. “Guess you’re right. Have to earn it.”

You grinned. “I have complete faith in you.”

And even though you were both joking with each other, that meant more to him than he would ever admit. You believed in him. You had gotten to know him and helped him through the hardest parts of his life without even knowing it. He wanted to prove to you that trust wasn’t misplaced. That he deserved your patience, your kindness, your love.

Without another thought, he pulled you into his embrace. He held onto you like he was afraid to lose you—like you’d suddenly change your mind and not see him.

You could feel it in the way he held you. You struck something, something crucial, something he needed to hear. So, you hugged him back, smoothing your hand up and down his spine.

When you pulled away, you slipped your hand into his. “I should probably get going.”

He nodded. “Get home safe.”

“Thanks, Billy,” you said. “I’ll see you next week.”

Before you could step around him, he encircled your wrist gently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk slipping back onto his face.

You shook your head slightly as you climbed into your car, waving to him as you pulled out.

He stood there, watching you drive further away from him. And he knew you two were about to be much much closer.

[allforthegaymes]

Aaron deciding to go to med school because he wants to help people when hes older, he hasnt decided where exactly, countless google pour overs on the beanbag next to andrew, reading out loud different sectors he could go into, listening to andrews hums or grunts for an input.

He ends up with pediatrics, the only one andrew had paused over before standing up to leave the dorm without another word.

He takes a minor in sports health though. Nothing to get officially licensed over, but enough knowledge to gain that when neils ankle acts up his first year on a pro team, with Abby across the country and not able to drop everything to fly out, and neils refusal to see any other nurse, aarons happy to take the hour commute over to his apartment to let him know he just rolled it and needs to keep it elevated and to not apply any pressure.

Then a few years later when neil and andrew end up with a set of twin girls running around their farmhouse, and andrew is calling aaron at a crisp 2am because one of the girls threw up and aarons gotta calmly talk him through that its cold season and she probably just got it from one of the kids at preschool, give her some medicine and itll clear in a few days.

Aaron not putting his dreams on hold or bending them to fit what others want him to do, but using his career to help his family how he can, in the little ways that matter most to him.

[harmslength]

Milk and Honey —

Paring | Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count | 4.9K

Summary | Being a mother is no easy task. After a long day of muscle pains, sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion—your adoring husband comes home to help.

TLDR - Post pregnancy hormones, pent up sexual frustration and— oh dear god milk?!

Info | SMUT (18+ only), unprotected sex (p in v), established relationship, breeding kink, lactation kink, mommy and daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy body mentioned, milk sipping and titty sucking (hell yeah)

Notes | posting this now or I genuinely never will. Not my proudest work but here we are. I’m also incredibly aware that I am subjecting y’all to my own weird kinks…Don’t worry! It will only get worse from here :)

This piece is dedicated to my coworker Bay who told me she accidentally took 90 “period cramp relief” pills that ended up making her lactate. Love u girl 🫶🏽

Build Your Own Adventure | you already know ;) tested it out, it’s fiiilllthyyyy

You laid in a ball on top of your bed. Freshly washed linens and clothes circling you like vultures.

You were exhausted, sleep deprived and you ached all over. Every movement made your muscles tense and your migraine grow.

It’s been three months since you had given birth to your little bundle of joy. Right about now though, your child was a lot more like a bundle of terror.

The baby rarely ever slept, too hungry to sleep and too stubborn to latch. It’s not the babys fault though, you knew that. It’s just—well, it’s fucking hard work.

——

You tried your best to wait up for your husband, you truly did. But your eyes grew heavy and your body aches slowly melted into a soft tingle as you fell into a much needed slumber.

You were awoken by the sound of your bedroom door closing. Groaning at the sudden intrusion of your dreams, you rolled over to look at your intruder.

“You’re home.” You mumbled to him groggily. Neil quickly slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you, pushing off the clothes and freshly folded linen off the bed in the process.

You groaned and reached out for it, a heavy complaint ready to be expelled. But Neil just grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, shushing you with the promise of the laundry being cleaned up later.

“The baby asleep?” He asked while he buried his face in between your shoulder and neck. You felt him take a deep inhale as his fingers trailed down your sore body.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, relaxing at the touch of your loving husband.

“Good.” He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You craned your head slightly and welcomed it.

Neil’s soft hands traced the peek of skin that was exposed below your shirt. Lines of stretch marks covered your stomach, but he didn’t mind. He never did, he loved every part of you.

“Thank you for taking care of the baby,” Neil placed kisses along your collarbones.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Fingers trailed up your shirt to the soft and supple mounds that were your breasts.

You didn’t even realize it, but milk had soaked through the thin layer of your shirt; dripping down and making it sticky against your skin.

“So lucky to have you,” he echoed, his hands slightly trembling, his fresh hard on pressing into your thigh.

You loved the attention Neil gave you, but with how sore your body was from recovering, the constant care of your baby and the ever-growing pressure from the milk trapped in your breasts; you were almost at your breaking point.

“Neil— baby, not tonight.” You protested and gently pushed him away. Neil clung on though, his desire for you borderline insatiable.

“What’s wrong, is Mommy not feeling well?” He cooed into your ear, making you tingle all over.

He had started calling you that—mommy—right after you both found out that you were pregnant. It was sweet for the most part. Mostly coming off as innocent, but when he said it like that—

His fingers tweaked at your sore nipples, always hard and leaking these days. You winced slightly, clenching your teeth and letting out a soft hiss.

“Come on, use your words Mommy.” He teased, making your lower half grow slightly hot as you attempted to fight off his advances.

“I’m so exhausted, my body—“ He interrupted you with the slide of one his hands ghosting past your navel and onto the radiating heat between your legs.

“Mhmm, keep going.” He urged you to continue.

You were slowly getting overwhelmed, your shirt dampening more and more, your arousal slowly building, slowing making its way up a steady hill as it always did.

“My body is overworked, Neil. I-I love staying home and caring for the baby, but with the feeding and the—“ His hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your mound.

“—changing and never sleeping, it’s been so tough.. I’m just so overwhelmed.” You breathed out, little tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You took a deep, long breath in and exhaled.

Neil understood, or at least made sure that you knew he listened to your every word. He was always attentive and kind with you but something about carrying his child for nine months really pushed him into overdrive.

During the pregnancy you had made a habit— or well the baby had made a habit of craving weird foods at the oddest hours. Neil spent plenty of nights standing in 7/11’s at 3 in the morning, or mixing all kinds of weird concoctions that you asked for.

Pickles and ice cream, a Banquets Salisbury Steak dinner, a whole raw onion— you could go on and on.

Massages and bubble baths became a nightly routine for you as well—as Neil insisted. Even closing up the store earlier so he’d have time to cook you dinner.

You thought about these moments as Neil coddled you close to him. Even with all these wonderful things he’s done, there was never an expectation for repayment or a favor due. You simply being his wife, the mother of his child was more than enough.

Neil pushed back the strands of hair that clung to your forehead, you just knew you looked like a mess.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He consoled you as the tears started to build up, you were exhausted and your pregnancy hormones haven’t exactly worn off yet apparently.

“I know it’s been really hard on you since I’ve been back at the store, but you have been doing such an amazing job.” Neil said softly, running his thumbs over your damp cheeks and kissing the top of your head. He wrapped you close to his chest; the damp patch on your shirt now soaking into his.

He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to look at him.

“You’re the best wife anyone could ask for.” He said earnestly, his gaze passionate and affirming. He always told you this and it never got old. Butterflies would swoon in your chest at the sound of him calling you his wife. It felt like most days you were lucky just to have him.

“But you’re right, this isn’t a job for one person..” He shifted and pulled himself closer to you so you were both eye level.

“Let me take off just a few more weeks, so you can get a break.” He tried reasoning with you but you were having none of it.

“Neil you can’t, you’ve already taken off more time than you should. John and Lucien need you, the store needs you.” You objected. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both have had this conversation.

“They’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Plus I miss you and the baby so much, every minute I’m counting down till I can see you guys next.”

Neil’s words made your heart grow fonder but the answer was still no.

“Neil—“ you protested and finally he caved.

“Okay, okay well at least let my mom come and help, she loves you guys so much and I know she wouldn’t mind.” He offered.

“Are you sure…? I really don’t want to bother her-“

“I’m positive. I can call her tomorrow.” He assured and you pondered over it for a minute. It was a no brainer really, so you agreed.

“Okay..” you relented, nodding your head while he held it in his hands.

“Yeah? Okay.” he nodded with a big goofy smile on his face. He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before peppering your face with little pecks. You laughed, already your dampened mood brightening. He always knew how to cheer you up.

Carefully, he placed himself between your legs, pushing himself up so he was leaning over you. One of his hands traced your hip as he stared down into your eyes.

Your hair had been pulled back into a bun except for the few stray pieces, you had slight bags under your eyes and now even more the milk stain was obvious.

“You poor thing..” He purred, as he took you in.

“Overworking your body to take care of my child..” He brought his hand up to trace your cheek lightly.

“I think it’s time you let daddy take care of you.” He whispered against your ear, making the room grow steadily hotter and hotter.

You looked into his eyes, basically swimming in them as his pupils grew wider with each passing second. He was ready to dive in, to pamper and devour all in one.

Before you could say anything, his hands crawled up your wasted shirt and cupped your enlarged breasts. Every chance he could he’d have his hands on them. Rubbing, groping, licking, pinching—all of the above. It was only lately where you couldn’t stand them being played with and it was driving Neil insane.

You winced and grabbed his wrist, urging him to stop.

“They’re sore.. please.” You begged and Neil leaned down to place another kiss to your hand.

“I’ll be gentle.” Neil assured and went back to what he was doing. He slid the shirt over your head, lifting your arms and slipping it past your head and shoulders.

His hands gently wound their way around your tits, pushing them together and watching as the milk dribbled out, just a little, just enough for a taste.

“Neil—“ you whispered in distress and he shushed you lightly. He craned his head and scooted down so his hard on was pressing up against your heat.

“They’re so full.” He admired, his eyes taking mental shots at the sight of them. He had been touched starved for the past three months, his body basically itching to be close to you.

Since giving birth you’ve both been either too exhausted to be intimate or too busy. Any other chance he could though, he was rubbing himself against you or fondling you. Each time being met with a giggle and swatting him away, or him finishing in his pants while you laid there and encouraged him.

He couldn’t help it though, when it came to you he was a depraved man. Never getting enough of you—truly insatiable.

You watched him as he slowly licked the circumference of your nipple, lapping up the droplets of milk like he was dehydrated. You gasped seeing him relish in the taste and latch his mouth to the bud.

It started slow, his mouth kitten licking and prodding, never using his teeth no matter how badly he wanted to nip at you.

Soon though his focus was completely centered around your tits. His eyes fluttered shut and soft moans escaped his lips, vibrating around it.

It still hurt of course, and not necessarily in a good way. It was painful for him to even touch them but you enjoyed seeing him like this so much that you fought through it. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, knowing he loved when you did that.

That elicited a whimper from him as his eyes snapped open and softened when he met your gaze. Your pupils equally the size of saucers as you stared down at this wonderful sight in front of you.

Neil’s lips latched tighter and gently he started to suck, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as you gasped at the feeling—the pull.

He brought both hands to your breasts as his hips ground into your clothed heat. He had one focus now, and it was drinking every last drop of you till you were spent.

“Fuck, Neil,” you whined, finding all of this oddly pleasurable. This was most definitely new, sure he had sucked on your nipples before but he’s never drank from them.

You watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing labored, body hungry for more. You watched a droplet of milk spill from the corner of his mouth, his throat swallowing, basically gulping down as much as he possibly could.

He pulled off just enough to take a breath, and move to the next one. The one hand that wasn’t being occupied holding your tits in place, slithered down and slipped past your pants and panties, finding a goldmine of wetness waiting for him.

Neil moaned and looked up at you to watch your reaction as he brought two digits to your clit. Moving in slow, diligent circles and making you squirm as you pressed your body up into his fingers. It’s been a long three months for the both of you.

“Does that feel good, mommy? Do you like when I touch you like this?” He teased, making you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

“Y-Yes.” You choked out, slowly losing your mind to his aggressive touches.

Neil licked at his milky lips, savoring the taste before he pressed them to yours, forcing you to taste your own creation.

His tongue tasted sweet, like cantaloupe juice, and you wondered if that’s what it really tasted like. Neil pulled back and smirked at you, his fingers still working you into a frenzy.

“Tastes good right? Tastes so fucking good.” He moaned and finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without even consoling you, he yanked at the hem of your pants and underwear, shoving them down your thighs and passed your ankles.

You clung to yourself now, not entirely used to your post pregnancy body being put on display. Neither of you has made love quite like this in a while.

“Fuck baby,” the words slipped right off his tongue like melted butter. He pried your arms back and hungrily kissed at your chest, slowly making his way down.

His movements were quick and passionate, diving into your body like a sweet dessert. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a trail of spit behind, stopping close to your abdomen and just loving the feeling of your bush rubbing against his chin.

“You just taste so good— I can’t help myself.” He mouthed at your supple skin. His hands still trailing behind him, groping and fondling at every inch of your skin.

“I needed this. I needed this so bad baby, you have no idea.” He whined and his lips trailed over your inner thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, to make you feel good, and he would even as his own erection was pressing harshly against his jeans.

He latched his mouth to your dripping cunt, the warm, wet heat calling out to him, begging to be licked clean.

He did just that, filling the room with lewd slurping sounds as a mix of your moans blended together perfectly. You almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the other room.

“Neil, the baby is sleeping, w-we have to be quiet.” You warned in between a gasp, his mouth mercilessly working you into a mind-bending orgasm.

He sucked especially hard and pulled off, making you clutch the sheets for dear life.

“Yeah?” He whispered to you, his voice low and raspy. Even in the dimming light of the room, as the sun started to settle; you could see him. His lips and chin were slick with your juices. It was like a scene straight out of a porno—a good porno, of course.

You nodded at him and swallowed hard, he wasn’t asking for clarification, he was challenging you.

“Well then we better be quiet, right?” He teased and you nodded again.

His hand gripped your breast and tweaked the nipple, little teardrops of milk spilling out onto his fingers. You winced slightly at the manhandling but let him continue.

“Here, try some.” He said, collecting some of it and shoving his fingers into your mouth. Just when you started to suck them clean, he slipped two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and moan loudly around his digits.

“That’s right, Mommy can take it. Mommy can take it real good.” He praised you and moved both sets of fingers in sync. You clenched around him hard when his thumb swiped up at your already aroused clit. Slow and steady at first but picking up speed quickly.

You mouthed obscenities around him as he continued finger fucking you and he just took it all in. Biting his bottom lip, he was at the precipice of his own desire. The fact that he could do this to you, the fact that he could drive you crazy like this.. it was his only purpose.

Neil became uncomfortably aware of how much clothes he had on shortly after and pulled away just long enough to slip himself free of his confines. You laid there, trying to catch your breath and trying to stop your legs from shaking.

You watched him flip back the buckle of his belt and yank down his trousers and underwear in one swift move.

You stared at his erection, making mental note that the tip was slick with precum, it made your cunt ache more than it’s ever before.

You reached for him in desperation and he met you halfway. Neil pulled himself on top of you and feverishly ground himself against you.

Slipping his cock between your folds, right against your clit and using your own arousal as his lubrication. He bucked into you, a deep growl escaping his lips with each thrust upward.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week..” He confessed with his eyes closed.

“Every time I watch you put the dishes away or bend over to pick something up—“ he slid his cock roughly against your clit once again.

“—all I could think about was fucking you right then and there.” you mewled at his confession though you already knew he wanted to.

“I just want to fuck you over every countertop, rip your fucking clothes off of you and fill that pretty pussy of yours.” This desperate act of him humping against you was pushing you close to the edge, as pathetic as it was to admit. Again, it’s been a long three months.

“Can you imagine that? Us having another baby, your belly all big again—and god those milky tits getting bigger than ever.” He fondled at your breasts, making more warm milk leak from them.

His depraved words only brought both of you closer to the edge. You knew he wouldn’t finish this way, he liked it inside.

You moaned and arched your back with each drag of his cock down your sensitive bud, each movement only producing more and more lubrication.

Your fingers made lines of red down his back as you clawed. Each heave of your chests making the room grow stuffier and stuffier.

“Can you imagine that baby? Tell me how badly you want it.” Neil urged, his hips slowing down, adding more pressure every time he moved towards you.

“Y-Yes..” you said weakly. You were completely loss for words, you had no idea he was so into that. “I can—I can imagine that.” You croaked, which only made a wicked smirk form on his face.

“Just look you, poor thing hasn’t been properly fucked in months. Hasn’t had Daddy’s cock to come all over.” His words basically made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His never-ending teasing making your pussy twitch and physically yearn for him.

Neil felt it, oh he felt it alright and it only drove him more mad. “Ooh you like that don’t you? Why don’t you come like this. Come on, come for me.”

You went to object, opening your mouth to beg him not to make you come like this; like you were some horny teenager rubbing herself off on her pillow, it felt dirty and depraved—which you were by all means— but you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.

Neil stopped you, “No whining, just do it.” He insisted and you could barely contain the high pitched whimper that left your lips as your cavern squeezed around itself, desperate for something to latch onto as wave after wave hit your body over and over again.

You threw your head back and about halfway through your orgasm you remembered the importance of staying quiet.

Neil kept on rubbing his perpetually leaking cock up and down your clit till your thighs twitched and you became desperate to get away.

Now that your opening was slick and so beyond ready, he slowly slid in. Inch by inch, he filled your sensitive cunt. He relished in the feeling, the grip tight and still fluttering from your orgasm.

“Neil!” You gasped, not expecting the burn from the stretch that met you. It hurt, which was to be expected but this felt different compared to what you were used to. It felt like he was tunneling a hole into you. Splitting you but also igniting you in the best way possible.

“Fuuuck…” he drawled out, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked himself slowly in and out, over and over again.

Neil knelt over you, his elbows slotted on each side of your head. He leaned in so his lips were just grazing yours, his tongue slipping out to swipe at your parted lips.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this—you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” He said, emphasizing his words with deeper thrusts. “How much I missed you.”

You felt your ears grow hot as your arousal bubbled up again. It was a heat that was so indescribable and so delicious it made your mouth water. You nodded, your chest rising and falling, labored breaths leaving you.

Neil fell into a slow and brutal pace. You could feel every inch of him, every curve and vein as he fucked you into oblivion. The speed only made your head spin and you found yourself digging lines down his back once more.

“Oh my god, baby. You know how I love it when you do that.” He moaned for you, slotting his head in between your shoulder.

Each word made you wetter and wetter. Soon enough the whole room was filled with soft squelching noises. It only seemed to spur Neil on because in seconds he pulled back, sitting back on his knees and gripped your hips for support as he looked down at you.

“I could come right now.” He said, his glazed eyes roaming over your body. He watched the way his thrusts made your breasts move, watching them jiggle as little droplets dribbled down the curve of them and onto the sheets.

“I could fill you up so good, have you walking around the rest of the day with my come leaking out of you… but I can’t.” He resigned with a sigh and angled his hips slightly upwards before slamming into you full force.

The wind was knocked out of you instantly. Gasping and trying desperately to ground yourself you clawed at the sheets, inevitably pulling them loose from the tucked corners of the bed.

He was fucking you so hard you could hear the loose screw in the frame rattling with each thrust inward.

“Neil please!” You begged but you weren’t even sure for what. For him to slow down? For him to stop? Oh no, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.

“I can’t baby, not when I need to feel you come all over me. Need to see that pretty little face as I—“ He gripped at your cheeks for emphasis, making your jaw hang open and your lips pouty. He leaned over just enough to spit into your gaping mouth and moved your jaw closed so you would swallow it.

“—fuck you into this mattress.” He finished. You felt your chest tighten, all the muscles in your thighs and stomach seizing for a moment as another wave of ecstasy hit you.

His filthy words filled your ears like angels singing and you nodded along, your body already climbing to your next orgasm.

You would do anything he said in this moment as long as he kept doing what he was doing. If he wanted another baby—fine. If he wanted you to scale the Empire State Building—that’s fine too.

You felt pressure building up, like weights were being placed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You knew you could come like this if he kept up his brutal pace but you needed more and well—Neil had no problem delivering.

He moved your legs so they now rested against his shoulders and leaned forward. He went impossibly deep and both of you let out an animalistic moan.

He sped up quick, sounds of his thighs slapping against yours echoing off the walls. He reached for your hand that was bunched in the messy sheets and placed it between your thighs.

“Touch yourself for me.” He ordered and you didn’t hesitate.

You brought two fingers down and started rubbing in rhythmic circles making the deepest parts inside your pussy start to twitch. Neil’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as you watched him tremble at the feeling of you—at the sight of you.

You were so clearly everything to him, and having you like this—your knees to your chest, split open and fucking writhing underneath him.. He’d call it heaven—scratch that—better than heaven.

“I-I’m close.” You choked out, your voice growing higher in pitch as he continued pounding his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Neil’s eyes returned to you, meeting your lust filled gaze before latching his lips down onto your nipple and starting to suck again.

It felt like he was dragging every ounce of energy out of you. Purely sucking the soul out of you.

You brought your free hand up to his hair, latching on and gripping so hard onto his locks you thought you’d rip them out.

“Neil, Neil, neil…” You chanted his name. The bed shook with you both, squeaks and rattling, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. It was too good. Too raw. And there was little to no care in keeping quiet anymore.

“Yeah baby, keep saying my name. Let everyone know who fucks you this good.” Neil purred, removing himself long enough from your tits to speak and then immediately returning back to suck them dry.

“Fuck!” You gasped one last time as you clamped down on him. Everything tensed for a long minute and you swore you blacked out. A soft ringing filled your ears, toes curling beside his ear, thighs trembling.

Neil moaned loudly, his mouth full and vibrating around your sore and hardened nipples. There was pain and pleasure mixing like a lethal cocktail, making you spill all around him.

The base of his cock grew sticky and the wet sounds only amplified. His thrusts grew erratic but never lost their strength.

You watched Neil detach from your nipple long enough to see the milky liquid stain his lips. He gaped at you, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Hunger. Deep and vicious in his eyes.

“Tell me you want another baby.” He said in a strained low voice.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He ordered. You were surprised he still had the strength to tease you, to make you beg.

“I want it.” You said without hesitating. He was still fucking you through your sensitivity which was starting to make you squirm but he liked it that way.

“Say it again.” He demanded with desperation.

“I want a-another baby Neil.” You could barely get out as he slammed particularly hard into you.

“More.” He all but growled. You could tell he was there, right on the tipping age. He was always more.. demanding when he was close.

“I-I want another baby. Fuck—I love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” The words spilled from your lips without even thinking.

It was a drop of tenderness in an act that would surely get you both sent to hell if you weren’t already married. But it buried Neil, hammering in the last nail towards completion.

Neil stilled for a moment, his full body weight pressing down on you as his thighs shook against yours.

He gaped for a second, the room falling eerily quiet as his orgasm sucked the air out of him. He gasped loudly, “Fuuuck..” drawled from his throat.

You felt him flex inside you over and over again, the head of his member hitting your sweet spot every time a hot gushing dose of come spilled from it.

His hands gripped the back of your knees for support as he pumped the last bit of it deep inside of you.

You tried to catch your breath but under the weight of him, it was proving to be difficult. Before you could say anything though, Neil pushed his lips to yours.

Lazy, sweet and all tongue. He lapped at your lips and then pressed his tongue to the back of your teeth. You hummed into the kiss, pulling him in deeper by the back of his head.

You both laid there for a moment, lip locked and absolutely wrecked. You pulled away just to tell him that he was starting to crush you, but of course, just a second later you heard the crackles of the baby monitor next to you, and soon enough the baby’s cries could be heard.

Neil smiled down at you, that same goofy smile that had you hooked from day one. “I’ll get him, you stay here and rest up.” He said already pulling away and out of you.

“You deserve it.” He added, placing one last kiss upon your nose and turning towards the closet to pull out some fresh clothes.

You deserve it.

[afurtivecake]

To me, reading about Neil in TSC is like seeing a grandchild for the first time in a while, like, "Look at you!! You've grown so much!!!"

This skittish, feral kid from the first book who looks and acts like some poorly socialized creature fished out of a dumpster who doesn't know how to have or be friends, is now out there doing his best to take care of another poorly-socialized, skittish and feral kid.

One thing about Neil is that he learns from other peoples' examples. He picks up their wording and phrasing. Like in TSC with "I have him":

(Renee says it to Neil about Jean and then later Neil says it to Wymack about Jean)

Or with the phrase, "You were amazing":

(Matt says it to Dan and Nicky says it to Neil. When Neil says it for the first time to Andrew, it almost feels out of character for him--like he's trying out a new thing he's never done before. And because it's unusual for Neil, both in the sincerity and in the wording, he hopes it's enough to let Andrew know that he wouldn't have left if he had a choice. And then later Neil says it to Dan and the team, it sounds more natural and Dan is not-so-secretly really chuffed about it.)

Like, look at him! He's LEARNING! He's learning how to people!

The clearest example of Neil's growth is him putting to use stuff he's learned from Wymack on how to care for people in distress (asking Jean what he needs, telling Jean not to blame himself for other people's choices)

Like remember when he was feeling guilty about Seth's death and Wymack was telling him in TFC that he can't blame himself for Seth's death even if it was Riko's doing because Riko was the one who "chose to cross a line", not Neil? Later Neil uses the same words to comfort Nicky who's feeling guilty about the Drake incident. Even though he doesn't fully believe it himself (he and Andrew have that whole verbal knife fight flinging blame at each other and he still feels guilty as fuck about Drake), he has learned that those are words that could help and so he gives them to Nicky. You get to see that lesson fully sink in when Neil tells Jean with absolute conviction that Grayson "strung the noose himself". Neil's saying that he's not going to feel guilty about Grayson and neither should Jean.

yea, my weird take on Neil Josten is that he makes me feel like a proud granny.

[perksofbeingpoet]

a small thing that is promised to calm todd down when everything gets too overwhelming is playing with or brushing his hair.

which, unfortunately, is way too intimate a thing to ask his friends for- they help as good as they can already, trying to be quieter when todd gets that very intense look, passing him food that isn't too spicy or salty, talking loudly when a teacher is looking for people to get up front to the board, so that they'll gleefully pick the loudmouth.

but this is different; involves a kind of gentleness, of vulnerability that todd can't ask for. it means baring the parts of him that are most sensitive, revealing he's a baby bird in thunderstorms, asking for whispers and warmth in a place that doesn't offer these things.

neil still finds out.

which shouldn't come as a surprise to todd - neil has a way of catching him where he's most vulnerable, closing his palms around him as if he was a ladybug in a child's hand. careful now, don't hurt it. i'll keep it safe. i'll carry it off the pavement, put it where the grass sprouts in may-coloured strands.

so neil finds out, when they're laying on todd's bed (better sun in the evening), neil reading the script of his newest play, todd just breathing, trying to match the tides of neil's heartbeat below him, trying to slow down his own. and neil isn't sure what happens, because to his mind, nothing's changed, but suddenly todd's eyes have that frozen panic in them.

neil thinks he can feel the way todd's drowning in his own thoughts, and todd's thoughts tend to be quicksand in these moments. it's desparation, in the end, that gets neil to bury his left hand in todd's hair, carefully weaving his fingers through the sandy strands. he knows it's silly, but the urge to physically wipe the thoughts off todd's head is what makes him lightly trace his nails across the other's scalp, gentle, always so gentle.

and todd melts.

his breathing slows, and suddenly he's back, and neil's heart flutters like a dragonfly drying off its wings. he can help. not much, not always, but he can try.

he soon discovers that it helps after showers, too - todd is embarrassed enough to snap at him the first time, the first time neil's heard him rashly angry, but it only takes todd a week to come back and apologise, to say neil was right, but could he not make a big deal out of it. (and neil perry, king of theatrics, doesn't)

because showers can be overwhelming in these times, when todd's mind is a bridge wobbling on brittle foundations- standing there all wet, knowing he'll need to get out the stall, and dry off, and get his clothes and put them on and they'll still stick to him a bit and his toes will stay wet because the floor is cold, and- it's too much.

but neil can brush his hair, still wet and darker than usual, and the scratch of it along his scalp grounds him, puts his thoughts on a leash. neil will hum a song, and todd will ache with the sweet cruelty of love, the stinging tenderness of vulnerability.

and when todd gets into bed in exam season, and the sheets are fluffy and full of fresh air, smelling of spring and melancholy, he breathes in deeply through his nose. and neil walks over to him for a second before going to his own bed, three extra steps that make todd close his eyes and bury his face in the pillow.

and he runs a hand through todd's hair, and it feels like warm notes on a cello. like autumn sun falling through tall tree trunks, like a mug of cocoa, like a childhood kitchen table. his fingers trace lines across todd's scalp, reminiscent of the contrails of the plane that divides the sky three years later, like neil is already dreaming of it.

todd breathes and smiles.

good night, little poet <3

(i put this on ao3 even though it's ridiculously short, so you guys know what that means- the time of poet writing dps fanfiction has started, and the next ones are gonna be way longer)

[palmettoshitposts]

I firmly believe andrew does nice things for people and then just lies about it.

it starts off low-key and the lies are believable or just by omission. like nicky suddenly finds the water bottle he’d been missing for months and it’s right in front of him (andrew spent a while searching all of the spots nicky usually puts things and found it pretty quickly). everyone, including nicky, presumes he was being a dumbass and it’s been there all the time.

like the time kevin finds a sports drink he really likes in the back of the maz after night practice and asks how it got there. andrew ignores him and neil just says that maybe aaron left it there?

like the time the girls want to make some cocktails with neil and educate him on “the delights of fruity alcohol” and they just happen to find most of the drinks they need already tucked in the back of the cupboard. some of them are half empty so they presume they had been there for a while (andrew had found some at the columbia house and just put them in the girls cupboard)

neil is very used to this but he doesn’t say anything or call andrew out. food that he likes appearing, new items of clothing that seemingly spawn at the back of the wardrobe, his bag making its way into the car before neil’s even realised he isn’t carrying it. it’s andrew’s low-key version of caring and neil thinks it’s sweet (not that he’d every day that aloud).

it moves on to bigger things.

andrew using a barely legal move against an opposing player after he’s been antagonising and irritating most of the team, but especially dan. the player ends up mildly injured and is taken off court. dan confronts andrew after, asking about it and andrew just claims he has no recollection of any of the events.

he’s moved beyond the silence to just straight up starts gaslight, gatekeep, girlbossing the foxes.

he literally buys nicky a pair of shoes he won’t shut up about and acts like nicky is the crazy one for thanking him, even though he literally just handed him the box.

he helps aaron book a tickets to a band katelyn likes because he’s in class when they go on sale and claims to never have heard of them later on.

he fully insists he was never in the lounge when matt needed some help moving some furniture around, despite it clearly being a two person job, andrew being the only one around at that moment and matt literally fucking carrying the other end of the furniture with him.

one of his biggest and frankly stupidest lies is when he hands david a bottle of really expensive whiskey the day he graduates and two seconds after handing it over, he asks david where he got it from.

david just rolls his eyes and tells him some asshole who he WILL be keeping in touch with gave it to him.

andrew just says “who?” like david is being super vague and confusing.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil. You've been my favorite author since I was a child, and last year I got to see you in Eugene, Oregon. Though, I nearly didn't have the chance to go.

The fall before, just a few days before my birthday, I attempted suicide but couldn't go through with it at the last minute. I had been in the store to get what I needed and I saw this truly awful hoodie. Lavender with full body tigers printed all over in black ink. It made me think of my childhood friend who I was still close with. It was ugly but, she would've loved it. I went back to the helium tanks and just stood there almost like I had suddenly forgotten why I was there. I just thought about that hoodie. I ended up buying it with the money I had planned to use for the tools I was going to use to end my life. I got to my car, looked at this thing in my lap, and remembered what I had been there for. I cried and called the hotline, because now I had to live so I could send it to my friend. In that moment, I just wanted to give my friend something that would make her smile more than I wanted to die. And, at that time, it was enough. My 29th birthday a few days later carried this weight of knowing I nearly didn't see it. Last year, I survived to 30 and couldn't help laughing at what felt like absurdity.

When I saw you were coming to Eugene last year, I was so excited. I went alone since I didn't have anyone who was as interested in going. I'm not one for celebrity or anything like that. I had admired you for so long for all the things you created that it felt surreal. You're not just a writer, you're a storyteller. You've created stories using all sorts of different types of media and I've always thought that was amazing. Like a magician. Whether they use a coin or hat or card, they make magic. To me: whether it was a book or a comic or a movie, you made magic.

This is probably a bit long-winded so I apologize for babbling but all of this is for me to tell you something I've wanted to tell you since that day in Eugene. I took so long to say this because I wanted to find a way to tell you how much weight this carried for me. I drove home that night, thinking to myself, "I'm glad I'm still alive." That was the very first time since the attempt and, frankly, in my life that I had ever thought that. I had always lived for other people and their happiness. I survived in part for the same reason. That night, it dawned on me that it was okay to live for my happiness too. Even if it was small. I felt like I had the sun in my chest and it was everything. I wanted you to know what that meant for me. So, thank you. Truly, thank you

Oh, thank you. I'm so glad you bought the hoodie, am so glad you came to see me in Eugene, and am really happy you are here and that you got to be happy. Stick around.

[tragedy-machine]

9 REASONS TO LOVE DEAD BOY DETECTIVES

Edwin Payne, need I say more

ok I will say more, he's a gay repressed ghost from the edwardian era who's a logical and stoic character with lots of trauma, who later goes through even more shit and is shown broken and crying?? hello?? not to sound like a psycho, but iykyk, a strong/calm character breaking apart and being vulnerable is PEAK TELEVISION, don't fight me on this

a true and well done portrayal of the found family trope

really dope female characters with amazing fashion! includes: a badass goth lesbian butcher!

your favorite character (Edwin, bcs it will be Edwin, bcs he is everyone's favorite character) has an absolutely adorable friendship with a genuinely GREAT female character where she helps him realize his feelings and even though they're "weirdos" to other people, they understand and support each other unconditionally

Edwin's and Charles's devotion towards each other, the pining, the jealously, their tenderness with each other and the love they share

your favorite character (again, Edwin) is a magnet to all the supernatural gays in a small port town, overall the dude has literally 4 love interests in the show even though he doesn't even TRY, doesn't know how to get bitches, he just does, and I LOVE that for him and hope he continues his streak in s2

and the show is genuinely funny, beautifully-shot and very interesting! it has great pacing and is just really fun, I rewatched it 2 days after I initially finished it and it did not feel boring at all, there's just so much happening in the 8 episodes that they stay entertaining

the premise of the show itself, ghost detectives, supernatural investigations, set in the sandman universe, coproduced by Neil Gaiman, it has the vibe of good omens and maybe a bit of sabrina the teenage witch mixed together, IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE, JUST TRUST ME BRO