#agness nutter

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil’s tags ❤:

I haven’t read your books (LE~GASP!), but I’m curious, did you get the name Nutter from the Pendle Witch Trials?

We did.

[liaragaming]

"Lavellan should have moved on years ag-"

Alright, listen here, you nutters. *spoilers for Tevinter Nights*

In "The Horror of Hormak," Warden Ramesh carries around a love letter in his boot from his would-be lover of 15 years ago and goes on a suiccide mission to find him after his patrol goes missing - all on the regret of lost love and the hope they might get a second chance.

And his past lover, despite being twisted into a ghilan'nain monstrosity of madness, does the utter impossible and manages to hold onto himself through the sheer faith that Ramesh will come looking for him! And then is completely lost once he says what he held on for so long to say.

Adjmsidjwjfj

"Lavellan should have moved on" my as-

[tennant]

"What's this Crowley like?" said Ligur. Hastur spat. "He's been up here too long," he said. "Right from the Start. Gone native, if you ask me. Drives a car with a telephone in it." sneered Hastur. "And he wears sunglasses, even when he doesn't need to."

— Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agness Nutter, Witch

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Radio Times magazine from the 29 July-04 August 2023 :)

THE SECOND COMING

How did Terry Pratchett and Neil gaiman overcome the small matter of Pratchett's death to make another series of their acclaimed divine comedy?

For all the dead authors in the world,” legendary comedy producer John Lloyd once said, “Terry Pratchett is the most alive.” And he’s right. Sir Terry is having an extremely busy 2023… for someone who died in 2015.

This week sees the release of Good Omens 2, the second series of Amazon’s fantasy comedy drama based on the cult novel Pratchett co-wrote with Neil Gaiman in the late 1980s. This will be followed in the autumn by a new spin-off book from Pratchett’s Discworld series, Tiffany Aching’s Guide to Being a Witch, co-written by Pratchett’s daughter Rhianna and children’s author Gabrielle Kent. The same month, we’ll also get A Stroke of the Pen, a collection of “lost” short stories written by Sir Terry for local newspapers in the 70s and 80s and recently rediscovered. Clearly, while there are no more books coming from Pratchett – a hard drive containing all drafts and unpublished work was crushed by a vintage steamroller shortly after the author’s death, as per his specific wishes – people still want to visit his vivid and addictive worlds in new ways.

Good Omens 2 will be the first test of how this can work. The original book started life as a 5,000-word short story by Gaiman, titled William the Antichrist and envisioned as a bit of a mashup of Richmal Crompton’s Just William books and the 70s horror classic The Omen. What would happen, Gaiman had mused, if the spawn of Satan had been raised, not by a powerful American diplomat, but by an extremely normal couple in an idyllic English village, far from the influence of hellish forces? He’d sent the first draft to bestselling fantasy author Pratchett, a friend of many years, and then forgotten about it as he busied himself with continuing to write his massively popular comic books, including Violent Cases, Black Orchid and The Sandman, which became a Netflix series last year.

Pratchett loved the idea, offering to either buy the concept from Gaiman or co-write it. It was, as Gaiman later said, “like Michelangelo phoning and asking if you want to paint a ceiling” The pair worked on the book together from that point on, rewriting each other as they went and communicating via long phone calls and mailed floppy discs. “The actual mechanics worked like this: I would do a bit, then Neil would take it away and do a bit more and give it back to me,” Pratchett told Locus magazine in 1991. “We’d mess about with each other’s bits and pieces.”

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch – to give it its full title –was published in 1990 to huge acclaim. It was one of, astonishingly, five Terry Pratchett novels to be published that year (he averaged two a year, including 41 Discworld novels and many other standalone works and collaborations).

It was also, clearly, extremely filmable, and studios came knocking — though getting it made took a while. rnvo decades on from its writing, four years after Pratchett's death from Alzheimer's disease aged 66, and after several doomed attempts to get a movie version off the ground, Good Omens finally made it to TV screens in 2019, scripted and show-run by Gaiman himself. "Terry was egging me on to make it into television. He knew he was dying, and he knew that I wouldn't start it without him," Gaiman revealed in a 2019 Radio Times interview. Amazon and the BBC co-produced with Pratchett's company Narrativia and Gaiman's Blank Corporation production studios, with Michael Sheen and David Tennant cast in the central roles of Aziraphale the angel and Crowley the demon. The show was a hit, not just with fans of its two creators, but with a whole new young audience, many of whom had no interest in Discworld or Sandman. Social media networks like Tumblr and TikTok were soon awash with cosplay, artwork and fan fiction. The original novel became, for the first time, a New York Times bestseller.

A follow up was, on one level, a no-brainer. The world Pratchett and Gaiman had created was vivid, funny and accessible, and Tennant and Sheen had found an intriguing romantic spark in their chemistry not present in the novel.

There was, however, a huge problem. There wasn't a second Good Omens book to base it on. But there was the ghost of an idea.

In 1989, after the book had been sold but before it had come out, the two authors had laid on fivin beds in a hotel room at a convention in Seattle and, jet-lagged and unable to sleep, plotted out, in some detail, what would happen in a sequel, provisionally titled 668, The II Neighbour of the Beast.

"It was a good one, too" Gaiman wrote in a 2021 blog. "We fully intended to write it, whenever we next had three or four months free. Only I went to live in America and Terry stayed in the UK, and after Good Omens was published, Sandman became SANDMAN and Discworld became DISCWORLD(TM) and there wasn't a good time."

Back in 1991, Pratchett elaborated, "We even know some of the main characters in it. But there's a huge difference between sitting there chatting away, saying, 'Hey, we could do this, we could do that,' and actually physically getting down and doing it all again." In 2019, Gaiman pillaged some of those ideas for Good Omens series one (for example, its final episode wasn't in the book at all), and had left enough threads dangling to give him an opening for a sequel. This is the well he's returned to for Good Omens 2, co-writing with comic John Finnemore - drafted in, presumably, to plug the gap left Pratchett's unparalleled comedic mind. No small task.

Projects like Good Omens 2 are an important proving ground for Pratchett's legacy: can the universes he conjured endure without their creator? And can they stay true to his spirit? Sir Terry was famously protective of his creations, and there have been remarkably few adaptations of his work considering how prolific he was. "What would be in it for me?" he asked in 2003. "Money? I've got money."

He wanted his work treated reverently and not butchered for the screen. It's why Good Omens and projects like Tiffany Aching's Guide to Being a Witch are made with trusted members of the inner circle like Neil Gaiman and Rhianna Pratchett at the helm. It's also why the author's estate, run by Pratchett's former assistant and business manager Rob Wilkins, keeps a tight rein on any licensed Pratchett material — it's a multi-million dollar media empire still run like a cottage industry.

And that's heartening. Anyone who saw BBC America's panned 2021 Pratchett adaptation The Watch will know how badly these things can go when a studio is allowed to run amok with the material without oversight. These stories deserve to be told, and these worlds deserve to be explored — properly. And there are, apparently, many plans afoot for more Pratchett on the screen. You can only hope that, somewhere, he'll be proud of the results.

After all, as he wrote himself, "No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away, until the clock wound up winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life is only the core of their actual existence."

While those ripples continue to spread, Sir Terry Pratchett remains very much alive. MARC BURROWS

DIVINE DUO

An angel and a demon walk into a pub... Michael Sheen and David Tennant on family, friendship and Morecambe & Wise

Outside it's cold winter's day and we're in a Scottish studio, somewhere between Edinburgh and Glasgow. But inside it's lunchtime in The Dirty Donkey pub in the heart of London, with both Michael Sheen and David Tennant surveying the scene appreciatively. "This is a great pub," says Sheen eagerly, while Tennant calls it "the best Soho there can be. A slightly heightened, immaculate, perfect, dreamy Soho."

Here, a painting of the absent landlord — the late Terry Pratchett, co-creator, with Neil Gaiman, of the series' source novel — looms over punters. Around the corner is AZ Fell and Co Antiquarian and Unusual Books. It's the bookshop owned by Sheen's character, the angel Aziraphale, and the place to where Tennant's demon Crowley is inevitably drawn.

It's day 74 of an 80-day shoot for a series that no one, least of all the leading actors, ever thought would happen, due to the fact that Pratchett and Gaiman hadn't ever published any sequel to their 1990 fantasy satire. Tennant explains, "What we didn't know was that Neil and Terry had had plots and plans..."

Still, lots of good things are in Good Omens 2, which expands on the millennia-spanning multiverse of the first series. These include a surprisingly naked side of John Hamm, and roles for both Tennant's father-in-law (Peter Davison) and 21-year-old son Ty. At its heart, though, remains the brilliant banter between the two leading men — as Sheen puts it, "very Eric and Ernie !" — whose chemistry on the first series led to one of the more surprising saviours of lockdown telly.

Good Omens is back — but you've worked together a lot in the meantime. Was there a connective tissue between series one of Good Omens and Staged, your lockdown sitcom?

David: Only in as much as the first series went out, then a few months later, we were all locked in our houses. And because of the work we'd done on Good Omens, it occurred that we might do something else. I mean, Neil Gaiman takes full responsibility for Staged. Which, to some extent, he's probably right to do!

Michael: We've got to know each other through doing this. Our lives have gotten more entwined in all kinds of ways — we have children who've now become friends, and our families know each other.

There have been hints of a romantic storyline between the two characters. How much of an undercurrent is that in this series.

David: Nothing's explicit.

Michael: I felt from the very beginning that part of what would be interesting to explore is that Aziraphale is a character, a being, who just loves. How does that manifest itself in a very specific relationship with another being? Inevitably, as there is with everything in this story, there's a grey area. The fact that people see potentially a "romantic relationship", I thought that was interesting and something to explore.

There was a petition to have the first series banned because of its irreverent take on Christian tropes. Series two digs even more deeply into the Bible with the story of Job. How much of a badge of honour is it that the show riles the people who like to ban things?

David: It's not an irreligious show at all. It's actually very respectful of the structure of that sort of religious belief. The idea that it promotes Satanism [is nonsense]. None of the characters from hell are to be aspired to at all! They're a dreadful bunch of non-entities. People are very keen to be offended, aren't they? They're often looking for something to glom on to without possibly really examining what they think they're complaining about.

Michael, you're known as an activist, and you're in the middle of Making BBC drama The Way, which "taps into the social and political chaos of today's world". Is it important for you to use your plaform to discuss causes you believe in?

Michael: The Way is not a political tract, it's just set in the area that I come from. But it has to matter to you, doesn't it? More and more as I get older, [I find] it can be a real slog doing this stuff. You've got to enjoy it. And if it doesn't matter to you, then it's just going to be depressing.

David, Michael has declared himself a "not-for-profit" actor. Has he tried to persuade you to give up all your money too?

David: What an extraordinary question! One is always aware that one has a certain responsibility if one is fortunate and gets to do a job that often doesn't feel like a job. You want to do your bit whenever you can. But at the same time, I'm an actor. I'm not about to give that up to go into politics or anything. But I'll do what I can from where I live.

Well, your son and your father-in-law are also starring in this series. How about that, jobs for the boys!

David: I know! It was a delight to get to be on set with them. And certainly an unexpected one for me. Neil, on two occasions, got to bowl up to me and say, "Guess who we've cast?!"

How do you feel about your US peers going on strike?

David: It's happening because there are issues that need to be addressed. Nobody's doing this lightly. These are important issues, and they've got to be sorted out for the future of our industry. There's this idea that writers and actors are all living high on the hog. For huge swathes of our industry, that's just not the case. These people have got to be protected.

Michael: We have to be really careful that things don't slide back to the way they were pre the 1950s, when the stories that we told were all coming from one point of view and the stories of certain people, or communities within our society, weren't represented. There's a sense that now that's changed for ever and it'll never go back. But you worry when people can't afford to have the opportunities that other people have. We don't want the story that we tell about ourselves to be myopic. You want it to be as inclusive as possible

Staged series 3 recently broadcast. It felt like the show's last hurrah — or is there more mileage? Sheen and Tennant go on holiday?

David: That's the Christmas special! One Foot in the Algarve! On the Buses Go to Spain!

Michael: I don't think we were thinking beyond three, were we?

So is it time for a conscious uncoupling for you two — Eric and Ernie say goodbye?

David: Oh, never say never, will we?

Michael: And it's more Hinge and Bracket.

David: Maybe that's what we do next — The Hinge and Bracket Story. CRAIG McLEAN

[bobur-the-berry-guy]

Please may I have Dandadan platonic headcanons of Okarun with a younger sister age 14 who has a weakened immune system along with being asthmatic..she wasn't a stranger to being ill..she didn't come home at a normal time one day and Ayase found her unconscious in the rain and.."she's burning up.." when Ayase realised that she also had a fever. She was also bullied and laughed at by her classmates for having a weirdo nutter for a big brother who believes in Aliens and she supported his beliefs genuinely to be kind. She is a genuinely kind kid despite her health problems that left her bedridden sometimes and sometimes even sick. Prolonged exposure to the rain or water without drying off can make her very ill if she isn't covered with a coat..she was quite sickly and she was born 2 weeks early when Okarun was 3 when things went horribly wrong after a car accident. She had caught every childhood illness known to man in her younger years and it was slightly shameful to admit the truth but she ended up in tears as it was frustrating that she was mostly more in hospital than at home.

Okarun's relationship with his younger sister who is certainly unwell and had suffered from health issues and was more in hospital than not.

Ayase's relationship with Okarun's younger sister

https://youtu.be/__wPpu1C-zg?si=X9xlU6oFVzpVxDtI (to describe her life)

HIIIII THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST HEREE!!!

Besides that, I hope you're doing well! I wasn't really well versed in weak immune system issues, but i looked a bit into it and i hope you like it! Take care 💕

Being Okarun's little sister! With health problems!

To start with, i think being Okarun's little sister would mean you have a brother that would be always there for you.

No matter what problem you're facing, he's always there and willing to help you out. Be it with homework, school, friends, teachers, parents or anything else. If he can't help, he's there to listen and be a shoulder to cry on.

If you're easily sick he would be incredibly careful with you - making sure his hands are washed, he's healthy and keeping things clean and tidy. He would NEVER do anything that could potentially harm you.

If you have asthma, i think he would carry an inhaler around with him just in case. Better be safe than sorry, especially with his sister.

If you're feeling sick at school he's taking you home immediately. No ifs and no buts. He doesn't care if he misses a class or two, if he doesn't turn in the homework on time or if his attendance would suffer - you need to be at home and that's that.

If you're in the hospital, he'd be there whenever he possibly can. He doesn't want you to be alone - hospitals probably aren't the greatest place to spend time in. Be it watching some show, talking your ear off about alies and extraterrestrials or just sitting in silence, he wants to be there with you.

If you're sick and you're at home, he's taking care of you whenever you need it. He's bringing you medicine, running you a hot bath, cooking you a good meal - pretty much anything you could need.

He's there for the gross parts too - he would hold your hair when you're throwing up and clean up after you if you need it. He doesn't care how nasty it is, you're his sister and to him, as a brother it's his duty to take care of you even if it gets bad.

If you frequent the same hospital, the nurses and doctors probably know him. Other than his whole alien thing, they know he's always there to ask about how you're doing and what he could do to help you.

As your relationship with Ayase, i think she would be a little clueless but she has the spirit. Like your author dearest

Okarun would feel awful if you're being bullied for being sickly, but even worse he would feel absolutely horrible if you're bullied because he's your brother. He would never forgive himself for putting you through that. Even if you're supportive to his belief in aliens and aren't really bothered by his weird ideas, as thankful as he would be for it, he would still be worried about the bullying.

You would have to explain to her what's up and how come you're doing things a bit differently to keep yourself healthy.

She would help you out if she can, but she does it like it isn't really a big deal. She just happens to carry around an extra coat or hot tea, face mask and whatnot. She doesn't want you to feel burdened because she's gotten Okarun's habit of always having something handy - she genuinely cares about you too.

If Okarun can't come visit you at the hospital or help you when you need it, best believe she's heard about it and is coming.

If he needs to do something but you're at home sick, she's coming to look after you. She knows enough for taking care of someone sick to be there. If you need anything specific you would have to tell her though.

If she visits you at the hospital, be prepared for a chat. She will talk your ear off about anything and everything - keep the conversation going!

She would also listen if you need to talk about your problems! She can't always give advice but she would always be there if you need her.

On that note, if you're being bullied CONGRATS! You're not bullied anymore. Not if she knows about it. She's not letting that slide.

You're in school. Its a break between classes. Next class is the 2nd, maybe 3rd? You aren't even sure anymore.

The weather has been awful since the morning, you really should've taken a thicker coat.

The classroom is too loud, too bring and too hot. You can barely breathe from how cramped it feels, even though half your class is out and about.

You can feel your head pulsing and your world spinning. It feels like you're full of hot air and you're floating like a balloon but still like your body is so heavy it can barely hold itself up. Shivers run up and down your body, you aren't sure if your body is boiling itself alive or you're freezing blue and purple all at once. You're so nauseous but still you're so thirsty. You've barely eaten any breakfast and still you feel like throwing up.

It all feels too much right now and going to the bathroom for some peace and quiet seems like your only choice. At least in there you won't feel like the air is so hot it would cook you alive.

The hallway seems like a claustrophobic hell - it's overflowing with students, its so cramped you can barely pass, the chatter feels like a thousand radios playing different static over each other.

You can barely walk as it is, but with the crowded hallway it seems almost impossible. It feels like you're floating around, everything seems so distant as if you're watching it on tv.

Suddenly you're in the bathroom.

Holding yourself up on the sink you don't even feel your legs anymore. You're burning up, your throat feels like its closing up and it feels like the ground is whirling under you.

You hear someone call your name and you can't even make out who it is. You're barely hearing through white noise and your world goes dark.

You wake up and you're in your bed, at home. You covered by soft blankets, still sick but at least safe and warm. The lamps are out, the only light is coming from the window. Its still gloomy outside, the sun hidden behind woolly silver clouds and the milky fog coverd everything beyond the neighborhood.

You can hear footsteps coming towards your room. You're now also aware of the chatter of tv and someone talking in the living room.

And your brother enters the room.

"OHMYGOD- Y/n, you're awake! How are you feeling? Do you need anything?? Did you know you have a fever?? Why did you come to school si-"

"QUIET! She's sick and you're yelling! Are you stupid?!"

Ayase is there to stop your brother from going on a rant, but she isn't any less quiet than him.

After that, they bring you food, water and medicine. They stay and talk, laugh, chase each other around and keep you company.

You're not sure if you'll ever get better or it will only get worse, but they're there for you anyway.

•

•

•

Im not rlly sure how to write good older brothers, but ik whats not a good older brother and so im writing exactly what that isnt so i hope my method is working😌

I hope you enjoyed, my requests are open!!

[mrghostrat]

Hello and good morning/day/night :]

I was wondering, in BNF, we’ve gotten tiny little bits of information about the ‘Nice and Accurate Prophecies’ (not sure if that’s the correct title, sorry) book and TV series, if there was anything else you could tell us about it?

Character names, storylines, plots, any fun details you may have made up or otherwise, etc, etc.

I just think it’s sweet how interested both Aziraphale and Crowley are in the series, and if you might be as interested, if not more, in it too.

Thank you, and have a lovely Sunday. 🫶

this is it, my leash has snapped, i'm wild in the streets, thank u for asking; i'm gonna go be insufferable now

(hi @neil-gaiman if you see this, i think it's safe to read, but it does border on being fan fic. i'm writing a fic where crowley and aziraphale are an artist + writer in an online fandom, much like we are for good omens, and this is the fake story i've made for them to be fans of 💛)

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

info dump of the fake 5 book series by Agnes Nutter (1985-1992) and its fake fandom:

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

The Strange and Improbable Prophecy

The Vague and Perfidious Prophecy

The Tense and Harrowing Prophecy

The Faint and Ineffable Prophecy

a dramatic, layered story with a bizarre and unexpectedly lovable cast of characters, humour that hits you out of nowhere, and a lot of attitude from the narrator. a la Good Omens, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

fantasy/historical fantasy and mildly action & romance

a la good omens, a witch and a witchfinder become friends and help each other throughout history, despite being on opposite sides. they get closer as they fight against the immoral plays from their prospective sides (the witchfinder army and a demonic cult the witch was born into) that each lose sight of their core values in a bid to hold more power over the world.

the story is set primarily in a medieval fantasy era, but suddenly jumps to the present in the later books, catching everyone off guard and giving a whole new context to enjoy the story. the challenges they face parallel the earlier story but in a modern take with modern technological twists. the modern era is the late 80s, since that's when it was written.

the witch reincarnates, similar to doctor who, due to a high class black magic ritual they performed in their arrogant youth (which they were NOT supposed to have access to). they've had long lifetimes where they die of old age, and others where they've barely managed to live a year. their reincarnations aren't entirely random; they will reincarnate according to their growth and preferences as a person (a la Magical Boy's magical outfit generations), which includes fluctuation in gender identity. their pronouns fluctuate depending on each "face" they wear, but have canonically been a "they" before. the good side of the fandom (crowley & aziraphale) default to they/them as an overall rule. they do have a name, but they like to change that too, so the fandom almost exclusively calls them witch, or witchy.

the witchfinder also has a name, but the fandom have taken to calling him witchfinder to match the fact that witchy is called by their role. it also helps that a lot of the witchfinder narration refers to him by role instead of name. he is human, 30ish in appearance, but at the end of the first book, the witch fears to lose him and curses him with immortality against his knowledge to try and keep him safe.

witch is crowley-coded, witchfinder is aziraphale-coded. my to-do list includes an illustration of the two of them played by michael and david :') but i picture them being kind of like newt and anathema for the most part.

ship names include witch/finder, witchwitch, w² or witch², and witchfound.

at the start of the first book, they meet and become friends without knowing each other is a witch & finder. the witchfinder is a bit bumbly, like newt, and the witch is cool and suave but neurotic and insecure like many human au variations of crowley (major overcompensation vibes). witch is male at the start of the first book. their friendship is secure when witch finds out he's a witchfinder, so there's less "oh my god i'm friends with the enemy, is he going to kill me in my sleep?" and more "ah fuck, Lets Drink About This"

there's battles, horseback riding, camping out in dark woods, disappearing and losing each other for months at a time, and many missed connections as they try to work together against two common enemies, whilst keeping up the facade that they're on their respective team's sides.

there's charged chemistry in the first book, but it's more plot heavy. there's hints of shippy moments in the 2nd book that fall in between the plot. there's a Moment of almost confession in the 3rd book, and a non romantic kiss towards the end (we gotta, for neil). they're pretty much married in the 4th book, securely at each other's side, but never actually talk about it until the end, and there's a more explicitly stated shippy connection in the 5th book.

agnes herself is a total recluse who drops books out of nowhere then goes back to existing somewhere in the english countryside (people presume). she's happy to supply signed copies to fundraisers and conventions, and sometimes random bookshops across the country will be vandalised with genuine autographs on the inside covers. she's notoriously pedantic about being involved with adaptions behind the scenes, but she has no social media and isn't ~around~. she once did a talk when she was presented with an honorary doctorate, and did a single book signing when the first Prophecy book came out, but beyond that she keeps to herself.

there are a small handful of quotes from her in behind-the-scenes footage talking vaguely about character intensions and clarifying world building, but she likes to leave things up to interpretation like neil does. it's in these few snippets of interaction we've seen from her that she's steadfastly supportive of intersectionality and lgbt rights, like staring dead-eyed at an interviewer when they ask her a ridiculously heteronormative question about the characters (like "have you read my books?")

adaptions include:

(most adaptions start like the book, with a male witch at the beginning that turns into a female witch when they first regenerate. the early ones usually change the pacing by switching to a female actor by the time they realise witchfinder is a witchfinder, unlike in the book where he's male for this scene, and there's way less Charged™ chemistry between the m/m witch/finder.)

Feature Film: late 90s, kind of cheesy, but good spirited fantasy (a la Indiana Jones). focuses on the first book alone, with hints to a sequel that never happened.

Abandoned TV Pilot: early 2000s, a little too dramatic but still a good time (a la the Dungeons and Dragons 2000, ASOUE 2004). good source of gifs and Moments™ but the fandom is generally Fine with it being abandoned.

Stage Performance: late 2000s-early 2010s, a stellar stage adaption of the first book with elements of the 90s movie. f/m witch/finder the whole way through. one cast used m/m actors but it was a short run and only a handful of fans were lucky enough to catch or remember it. crowley would give his left arm (or someone's, anyway) to have experienced it, so a fan sent him some flip phone camera footage of it that he keeps on a harddrive in his safe.

HBO Streaming Series: late 2010s-present, high quality, highly revered, resurged the fandom's popularity and spread the series further overseas. made in america, but doesn't try to americanise the series. extremely respectful to the books, with easter eggs to the film, and is working its way through the entire book series (a la The Witcher netflix series). f/m witch/finder, but has had one episode that included some flash backs/montages of different witch faces. probably like 15 minutes total screentime of a male witch played by a ncuti gatwa level/style of actor, which the fandom has giffed, edited, and screencapped to oblivion.

Several bonus books: Agnes has written a few extra books (a la The Unauthorized Autobiography of Lemony Snicket and The Beatrice Letters), as well as curated some anthologies from other authors (a la A Study In Sherlock). there are a total of 3 anthologies so far, in which other authors have written stories about the characters in their own tellings. basically like canonised, published fan fiction, curated and authorised by agnes herself. There's also an unfinished graphic novel that retells the book series (a la The Adventure Zone comic), but has been WIP/unheard of since the 3rd book.

[vidavalor]

"There will come a tempest" scene & possible S3 Crowley & Aziraphale foreshadowing...

When Gabriel is apparently possessed in the second half of Awning of a New Age, he and the woman who appears to be possessing him say something that is strangely repetitive:

"There will come a tempest and darkness and great storms, and the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more and there will be great lamentations."

There is no actual difference in definition between a "tempest" and a "storm." A tempest *is* a storm-- both are wind and rain together. The usage of them is more of a matter of manner of speaking-- it's situational. "Storm" is the common usage while "tempest" is just the more literary, more poetic way of saying "storm." Your local news station reports on an impending "storm" but a poet might call that same storm a "tempest." As a result, the prophecy is weirdly repetitive at the start, right? It really reads like this:

"There will come a storm and darkness and great storms..."

Ok, why repeat it? Why use "tempest" and "storms" in the same phrase? Why separate them? To Crowley? Maybe because whoever this is is trying to warn Crowley specifically of events, not just warn of them in general. Because the word that triggers the whole thing is "tempest"-- and it's Crowley who said it. It's Crowley who called what he just did in Awning of a New Age "a tempest" and not a storm because he's poetic and dramatic like that.

So... what if the first part of the prophecy is actually already in motion? What would this potentially tell us about S3?

What if it's kind of like Agnes Nutter's first prophecy for Aziraphale was in S1-- "...thy cocoa doth grow cold" being about *that particular moment right then* with a difference of it being unclear right now if Crowley really understands that someone is trying to warn him through Gabriel? If this is the case? Then S3 isn't about *preventing* The Second Coming-- it's about somehow trying to *reverse or fix it*... because it's already happening. The tempest is Crowley's storm in Awning of a New Age... which Crowley thinks he failed at but didn't really entirely. It's his failure, in his estimation, to get Maggie and Nina to fully vavoom that causes him to tell Aziraphale that it's Aziraphale's turn to try-- setting up the meeting/ball to go the way it does, leading directly to the end of S2. What comes next?

Darkness and great storms. The end of the world. The dead rising from their graves and walking the Earth once more. The Second Coming. And there will be great lamentations...

Obviously, The Second Coming sounds horrible in GO. It's The Metatron's plan and he's the main antagonist. It sounds like they're going to destroy Earth and the known universe and only the the chosen few will survive it but what intrigues me about this is why whoever is delivering this prophecy is warning Crowley about great lamentations. Crowley is the one who prophesied in S1 that he thought the real war that was coming was "all of us versus all of them", and he meant he and Aziraphale and humanity versus the system of Heaven and Hell. So far, he seems to be correct on that and given that it was a set up line in the final moments of the season for future plot, it seems likely to be true. This would be how he survives it. Armageddon in its S1 round was supposed to trigger a war between Heaven and Hell that could have resulted in Crowley and Aziraphale being separated for eternity after it. They managed to push it off until the end of S2 and now Round 2 is a different flavor of Armageddon. The Second Coming is what Crowley seemed to predict in S1... but someone here is trying to get a message to Crowley and it sounds as if it might be meant for him directly as much as it is for the world. And what might that prophecy possibly be saying about S3's Crowley & Aziraphale plot, specifically?

That after Crowley's tempest comes darkness, comes great storms, comes the end of the world, comes The Second Coming... comes great lamentations-- great grief, great mourning. I'm not saying that Crowley wouldn't be broken by the end of the world but I am saying that someone warning Crowley that in an era of "the saved" being given eternal life, that will Crowley will be experiencing great lamentations feels very much like Aziraphale is not among them. (I am not saying that the show will end like this-- it will be fine.) It also would be the height of irony if Crowley and Aziraphale spent their time together always thinking that they had the about 6,000 years until Armageddon and that it was probably Crowley who wasn't going to make it beyond then and then it turns out that Aziraphale, who always thought that he was the one who was going to spend eternity alone without Crowley if they couldn't figure out a way out of Armageddon... it's Aziraphale who then doesn't make it.

It might also be worth considering that Crowley is the character who was given information along with us about The Book of Life from Beez-- someone who would know and whose memory isn't damaged. He doesn't need this information if he's the one getting Book of Life'd. He needs it if his plot in the future is to try to un-Book of Life someone.

There is also that while Michael was threatening to Book of Life Aziraphale in the bookshop, they didn't just *do* it-- and then The Metatron said that Michael wasn't qualified to do it. I'm not sure how true that is or if it was just him getting Michael to knock it off and stop giving everyone spoiler alerts for his game plan lol but The Metatron *would* be qualified and is the angel associated with The Book of Life in religious texts and S2 ends, as we all know, with Aziraphale getting in the elevator to Heaven with The Metatron.

You know those unused concept art images of the bookshop that didn't make it into S2 where it's the last thing standing in what looks like some kind of apocalyptic nightmare around it?

Crowley saves the bookshop during The Second Coming? Sends as many from Whickber Street as he can to Muriel in the shop and makes sure it survives because he can't see it destroyed again and, in doing so, he might have preserved evidence of Aziraphale's existence enough for a plot to bring him back when he finds out he's gone? (I'm aware that the idea with The Book of Life is that the person is erased from existence and so never existed at all. I'm a romantic and this show is too, really. Aziraphale can't be fully erased and Crowley can't fully forget him. Fight me on it if you want to lol but I also can't see how a plot to bring him back happens unless Crowley somehow remembers him.) S2 also gave us way too many things Aziraphale has made in a way that kind of foreshadow his disappearance in a way that makes their existences more relevant. His sketch of Gabriel. His diaries. The photo Furfur took of him and Crowley in 1941... Then, there's this line. This bloody line:

...and that one...

...and this bit from S1 when Aziraphale is in a state of semi-existence and what can help them is what Crowley saved from the bookshop...

[aziraphales-library]

hi <3 do you have any recs for long multichap fics that are NOT slow burns? thank so much!

Hello! There are not enough fics tagged "fast burn" so I also did a search for "established relationship". Enjoy...

its duty is to harm me, my duty is to know by natalunasans (T)

the title is from a cohen song about death, & also applies to life... whether in london or in tadfield; together, alone, or in (usually good) company; the ineffable partners talk out their fears, try to figure out what they are and what to do with themselves, now that they're not working for heaven and hell anymore. domestic softness > action, but there is some plot and angst (off and on)

Don't Drag Me Down by rowenablade (M)

Armageddon didn't happen, Heaven and Hell have agreed to leave them alone, and Aziraphale and Crowley are free to build a life together. But the forces of Hell aren't happy with losing, and even if they can't directly harm their wayward demon, they can try to drive a wedge between him and the angel that he loves. After all, Crowley had been encouraging them for centuries to get creative.

The Starting Hinge by lucky_spike (T)

When a rare book collector is mysteriously killed, DI Barnaby and DS Winter are on the case. Meanwhile, the question of what will become of the victim's extensive library stirs a small group of rare books collectors into a furor. Who can be trusted? - This is predominantly a Good Omens fanfic with some Midsomer Murders thrown in just because I could do it and I wanted to. Contains death of an OC and (obvs) murder and attempts thereof. Nothing gory, though, so party on.

Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise (M)

A narrative of certain events leading up to The Big One, in strict accordance, as shall be shown, with the nice and accurate prophesies of Agnes Nutter, witch. A Good Omens sequel, set thirty years in the future...   Thirty years after a failed Armageddon we must face The Big One, as Heaven and Hell, working together, enact a plan to fix the world or destroy it forever. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley discover that truly being on their own side has more implications than they’d ever have guessed. Changes to the basic metaphysics of the universe. A second book of prophesies. Mysterious twins on a mission. Hijinks and shenanigans. Deep questions, laughs, ridiculous banter and sexy stuff. Welcome to my attempt at an epic Good Omens sequel.

Considerate Omens by OneofWebs (M)

Crowley is plagued by dreams of a life he lived long before time had even begun. It's two years after the Apocalypse-That-Didn't, and though he's got a healthy bit of fear of what may come next, choosing to ignore these dreams seems a much better use of his time. In those two years, Aziraphale had moved into his flat, and they may or may not be dating. They don't talk about it, but they do get along just fine with their play-pretend routine, which proves a bit rickety when neither of them age. To avoid suspicion, Aziraphale thinks it wise that he spend some time presenting as a woman. This, a catalyst to the end Crowley had feared before, because it's hard to resist the idea of children when the opportunity presents itself. - [The Continuation of Good Omens]

Bleating Hearts by HKBlack (E)

Meet Doctor Aziraphale Fell, university lecturer of English Literature, Shakespearian expert, and man with an unexpected goat in his office. When the handsome herder who comes to catch the unruly visitor asks some pointed questions, Aziraphale finds his life suddenly turned upside down and filled with both new challenges and opportunities. But is Crowley all that he says he is? And even if he isn’t–does it really matter when he’s clearly a piece of the puzzle missing in Aziraphale’s life? Trip on over to Devil Doe’s Dairy and Goat Scaping Farm, where the cheese is always smooth, the goats climb roofs, and true love might just be around the corner.

- Mod D

[its-time-to-write]

Could you write a fic with a writer who’s just found out that the guy she’s seeing really isn’t what she thought he was and she’s feeling really down about it/him and Jamie comforts her?

hope this is what you were looking for😊 thanks for the ask!!

we could be so good

It’s a sad drive from the restaurant to Jamie’s house. You walk straight in and crash on the couch. 

“That bad, huh?” Jamie says. 

You nod. “We’ve been going out for over a month, and it’s like a switch flipped. He’s a complete prick.”

Jamie awkwardly pats your head. “I’m sorry love.”

“How could I be so- so- blind?” you continue. “I should’ve known he was too good to be true. I fucking hate dating and I never want to fucking do it again.”

“You’ve been with a lot of shit blokes,” Jamie muses. You’re both silent, thinking back on all the guys you’ve dated over the past eight years. 

He snaps his fingers. “Ronald Spencer.”

You sigh. “Ah yes. Ronald Spencer. The absolute love of my life. Fuckin’ shame we met so early in life.”

Jamie shrugs. “You were pretty mature for a pair of five year olds. ‘Course, I’d already had two girlfriends at that point, so I was way ahead of you.”

You wrinkle your forehead. “Okay, you were eight. You had three years on us and he broke up with me because you scared him away.”

“It’s my job to take care of you, and I think you could’ve done better. Speaking of-” Jamie gets up off the couch. “You want a snack?”

“Ooh, yes please.” You follow Jamie to the kitchen and hop up on the counter. He rummages through his cupboard and pulls out two bags of crisps and a chocolate bar. 

“Told Roy these were for you so he wouldn’t throw them away,” he tells you. “Fucking mental, that one. Went through me whole house and got rid of so much shit.”

Jamie hands you the prawn cocktail chips, keeping cheddar for himself. “Don’t tell Coach.”

You zip your lips as he sits on the counter next to you. 

“Oi.” He knocks his shoulder against yours. “Forget about that fucking nutter, yeah? You can do better.”

You shrug and say, “Don’t really think so at this point. Maybe I’ll just move back to Manchester.”

Jamie whips his head around to look at you. “Fuck. No. This house is too fucking big and too fucking quiet. Plus, I save so much money on house sitters.”

“Like you need to save money,” you snort. 

“I’m serious,” Jamie insists. “The fuck would I do all alone here?”

You give him a strange look. “Um, I don’t know, bring a girl ‘round? Go out at night instead of watching telly with me? Not listen to me complain about shit dates?”

“Or,” he suggests, “I could not do any of that and we could go on un-shit dates together.”

You laugh. “Un-shit? That’s the best you could come up with? Wait- what?”

Jamie’s words finally register. 

It’s silent except for the crinkle of the chocolate wrapper. Jamie hands you half and you snap it into smaller pieces. 

“Yeah, I mean, might as well shoot my shot now, right? Not to be fucking weird, but I’ve had a crush on you for ages. Since we were kids. Like I said, didn’t want to make it weird ‘cause, like, we live together. Didn’t want things to be awkward. Or for you to fucking move back home. I mean c’mon love, with your mum? Wouldn’t do that to you.”

You smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jamie parrots. 

“Yeah, okay. I guess- I think I always figured we’d end up here. I liked you since I was six and you kicked a football through the window, then picked all those flowers to apologize. I kept every article that was ever written about you. I dunno, I thought either we’d figure it out in our thirties or maybe just be weirdly platonic for the rest of our lives.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s weirdly specific.”

You shrug. “Am I wrong?”

You’re not. 

Jamie says, “So…” as he swings his legs. 

You turn to look at him. “Yes?”

“Can we like, kiss? Because I’ve been thinking about it for fucking years.”

“My breath smells like crisps,” you warn. 

“Don’t care,” Jamie replies as he hops down from the counter. He pulls your legs to hook around his waist as he tilts your chin downward. 

“Is it too early to say I love you?” he murmurs. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and smile. “I think it’s the perfect time.”

[book--brackets]

Note: Good Omens is by both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, it just doesn't fit in the character limit lol

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (2011)

The circus arrives without warning. No announcement precedes it, no paper notices plastered on lampposts and billboards. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.

Within these nocturnal black-and-white-striped tents awaits an utterly unquie experience, a feast did the senses, where no one can be lost in a maze of clouds, meander through a lush garden muse of ice, stare in wonderment as the tattooed contortionist folds herself into a small glass box, and become deliciously tipsy from the scents of caramel and cinnamon that waft through the air.

Welcome to Le Cirque des Rêvez.

Beyond the smoke and mirrors, however, a fierce competition is under way—a contest between two young illusionists, Celia and Marco, who have been trained since childhood to compete in a “game” to which they have been irrevocably bound by their mercurial masters. Unbeknownst to the players, this is a game in which only one can be left standing, and the circus is but the stage for a remarkable battles of imagination and will.

As the circus travels around the world, the feats of magic gain fantastical new heights with every stop. The game is well under way and the lives of all those involved—the eccentric circus owner, the elusive contortionist, the mystical fortune-teller, and a pair of red-haired twins born backstage among them—are swept up in a wake of spells and charms.

But when Celia discovers Marco is her adversary, they begin to think of the game not as a competition but as a wonderful collaboration. With no knowledge of how the game must end, they innocently tumble headfirst into love. A deep, passionate, and magical love that makes the light flicker and the room grow warm whenever they so much as brush hands.

Their masters still pull the strings, however, and this unforeseen occurrence forces them to intervene with dangerous consequences, leaving the lives of everyone from the performers to the patrons hanging in the balance.

The Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss (2007-present)

My name is Kvothe.   I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep.   You may have heard of me.

So begins a tale unequaled in fantasy literature--the story of a hero told in his own voice. It is a tale of sorrow, a tale of survival, a tale of one man's search for meaning in his universe, and how that search, and the indomitable will that drove it, gave birth to a legend.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo (2015-2016)

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can’t pull it off alone. . . .

A convict with a thirst for revenge A sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager A runaway with a privileged past A spy known as the Wraith A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes

Kaz’s crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don’t kill each other first.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman (2001)

Days before his release from prison, Shadow's wife, Laura, dies in a mysterious car crash. Numbly, he makes his way back home. On the plane, he encounters the enigmatic Mr Wednesday, who claims to be a refugee from a distant war, a former god and the king of America.

Together they embark on a profoundly strange journey across the heart of the USA, whilst all around them a storm of preternatural and epic proportions threatens to break.

Scary, gripping and deeply unsettling, American Gods takes a long, hard look into the soul of America. You'll be surprised by what - and who - it finds there...

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer (2012-2015)

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . 

Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future. 

The Princess Bride by William Goldman (1973)

Westley ... handsome farm boy who risks death and much, much worse for the woman he loves; Inigo ... the Spanish swordsman who lives only to avenge his father's death; Fezzik ... the Turk, the gentlest giant ever to have uprooted a tree with his bare hands; Vizzini ... the evil Sicilian, with a mind so keen he's foiled by his own perfect logic; Prince Humperdinck ... the eviler ruler of Guilder, who has an equally insatiable thirst for war and the beauteous Buttercup; Count Rugen ... the evilest man of all, who thrives on the excruciating pain of others; Miracle Max ... the King's ex-Miracle Man, who can raise the dead (kind of); The Dread Pirate Roberts ... supreme looter and plunderer of the high seas; and, of course, Buttercup ... the princess bride, the most perfect, beautiful woman in the history of the world.

S. Morgenstern's timeless tale--discovered and wonderfully abridged by William Goldman--pits country against country, good against evil, love against hate. From the Cliffs of Insanity through the Fire Swamp and down into the Zoo of Death, this incredible journey and brilliant tale is peppered with strange beasties both monstrous and gentle, and memorable surprises both terrible and sublime.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl (1964)

Willy Wonka's famous chocolate factory is opening at last!

But only five lucky children will be allowed inside. And the winners are: Augustus Gloop, an enormously fat boy whose hobby is eating; Veruca Salt, a spoiled-rotten brat whose parents are wrapped around her little finger; Violet Beauregarde, a dim-witted gum-chewer with the fastest jaws around; Mike Teavee, a toy pistol-toting gangster-in-training who is obsessed with television; and Charlie Bucket, Our Hero, a boy who is honest and kind, brave and true, and good and ready for the wildest time of his life! 

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare (2010-2013)

Magic is dangerous--but love is more dangerous still. 

When sixteen-year-old Tessa Gray crosses the ocean to find her brother, her destination is England, the time is the reign of Queen Victoria, and something terrifying is waiting for her in London's Downworld, where vampires, warlocks and other supernatural folk stalk the gaslit streets. Only the Shadowhunters, warriors dedicated to ridding the world of demons, keep order amidst the chaos. 

Kidnapped by the mysterious Dark Sisters, members of a secret organization called The Pandemonium Club, Tessa soon learns that she herself is a Downworlder with a rare ability: the power to transform, at will, into another person. What's more, the Magister, the shadowy figure who runs the Club, will stop at nothing to claim Tessa's power for his own. 

Friendless and hunted, Tessa takes refuge with the Shadowhunters of the London Institute, who swear to find her brother if she will use her power to help them. She soon finds herself fascinated by--and torn between--two best friends: James, whose fragile beauty hides a deadly secret, and blue-eyed Will, whose caustic wit and volatile moods keep everyone in his life at arm's length . . . everyone, that is, but Tessa. As their search draws them deep into the heart of an arcane plot that threatens to destroy the Shadowhunters, Tessa realizes that she may need to choose between saving her brother and helping her new friends save the world. . . . and that love may be the most dangerous magic of all.

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (1990)

The world is preparing to come to an end according to the Divine Plan recorded in the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (recorded 1655). Meanwhile, a fussy angel and a fast-living demon have grown fond of living among the earth's mortals for many millennia and are not looking forward to the apocalypse. If Crowley and Aziraphale are going to stop it from happening, they must find and kill the Antichrist.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman (2002)

In Coraline's family's new flat there's a locked door. On the other side is a brick wall—until Coraline unlocks the door . . . and finds a passage to another flat in another house just like her own. Only different.

The food is better there. Books have pictures that writhe and crawl and shimmer. And there's another mother and father there who want Coraline to be their little girl. They want to change her and keep her with them. . . . Forever.

[samsalami66]

Tough decision, but "I will hang on (until I can't anymore)" with Dreamling? (Soccer au maybe? 🥺)

🤘five-and-dimes

Shooting for the Sky

Hey my lovely @five-and-dimes! Thank you for the prompt, I had a great time writing this! I hope you don't mind some humour sprinkled in between the usual angst and fluff, the idea suddenly grew wings and took flight and I had zero control over it.

Morpheus is regretting every single decision he has ever made in his tragically short life that led him up to this moment. If only he wasn't at fault for a hundred percent of them, from starting to kick a ball around with Olethros at age ten, to signing his first professional contract and later joining the Fiddlers. 

This blasted team of absolute nutters. 

Team building, Hob has said with a smile and a glint in his eyes that Morpheus hasn't quite been able to place. Now he knows it to be unbridled insanity mixed with a healthy dose of sadism, joy granted by witnessing his best friend's early demise due to the heart attack he would surely suffer in the next few moments. 

Morpheus has heard about team building exercises where a team went to play minigolf or drove around with go-carts or some other safe and ordinary and fun experience. But of course his band of suicidal idiots would go skydiving for such an event. And of course they have all done this before, since they have zero sense for self-preservation and do not care about their personal well-being at all. 

Those words out of his mouth have only caused the other men to burst into laughter when he said them. 

So now he is here. ‘Here’ being an aeroplane about a kilometre above sweet British grounds, strapped like a toddler to Hob Gadling's chest. Apparently you do not jump on your own the first time you skydive, which has never been a thing Morpheus gave much thought to, since he never expected to find himself in this situation. 

But he has done a lot of things he didn't expect himself to do since he has met Hob. Wonderful, amazing Hob, who is currently resting his chin on Morpheus’ shoulder so he can look out the window while Morpheus himself is trying his hardest not to hyperventilate. 

The team would never let him forget it if he had a panic attack over skydiving. Their serious support ends with the after-effects of abuse, everything else will become part of the Terrific Team Tales (what an awful name), which they recap at least once a year on pub night, specifically to torture the other members with embarrassing stories of the past. 

It is a horrifying tradition. Truly grotesque. 

Morpheus will not give them more material by panicking. 

So, instead, he concentrates on Hob. 

Hob, who stands pressed to his back, head to calf, lending to him the warmth Morpheus so rarely feels on his own. Hob, who's scent envelops Morpheus like a hug of comfort and safety, calming him like few other things could these days. And Hob, who's midsection is pressed directly to Morpheus’ backside. Will be pressed to his backside for the whole dive. Together, in the air, putting his life in Hob Gadling's hands. 

Oh dear.

Perhaps the panic attack is the better option after all. These thoughts will only lead him to a single outcome, and he's absolutely not going to face this conversation after falling a whole kilometre out of an aeroplane. Absolutely not. 

Just as Morpheus is about to force his thoughts back onto the ridiculous ideas of his teammates, the voice of the pilot sounds over their headsets.

“We reached the final height for the jump! The door will be opened as soon as we hit the agreed upon coordinates. Have a good way down, gentlemen!” 

Cheers ring out around Morpheus, and ten men, Hob included, jump up and down with barely concealed excitement. Hob's jumping jostles him where he stands, and Morpheus barely catches himself before he would have crashed backwards into Hob. 

“Someone's excited,” he comments with a wry smile, which only turns softer when he looks over his shoulder to see Hob's bright eyes, shining with joy.

“I get to share one of my favourite activities with my favourite person, of course I'm excited!” 

Morpheus softens even further at that answer, Hob’s affection as always so easy to grasp. 

“Ugh, find a private channel to flirt on with your man, Hobert!” Sounds Corin's voice over their headset, and Morpheus can't help but chuckle at how he and Hob stick their tongues out at each other. 

“Ten bucks that I’ll land first!” calls Abel into the round, which Cain immediately meets with “Twenty bucks that you’re full of shit!”

“Fifty that you’ll both be last,” Mervyn murmurs, and the rest of the team laughs at their bickering, as they always do. 

Cain and Abel, the other brothers in the team, have a sort of love-hate relationship going on. Half of the time Morpheus is a bit worried they might kill each other with their antics, but in the end they would never seriously hurt each other. Though if it does happen one day, Morpheus believes the murdered brother would come back to life just so that they might continue their bickering. Mervyn likes to pretend that he doesn't find it hilarious. 

Behind Cain and Abel the door of the aircraft suddenly opens, the wind suddenly overpowering every thought Morpheus might have had. He couldn't look outside, as there were about nine burly football players between Hob and him and the door. But even just the coldness of the air against his face, unnatural in comparison to the cold he has felt so far down on safe ground, wipes his mind clean of coherent thought. 

“Ready?” Hob says, so close to his ear that Morpheus feels his breath on his cheek, clearly to avoid speaking over the open channel. It makes him shiver, but the cold covers the real reason just fine. 

“Absolutely not,” he replies as loud as he dares, while making grabby hands towards Hob's arm to hold onto. The other man complies immediately, and Morpheus digs his fingers deep into Hob's biceps. “But I'll be fine as long as you're there.” 

“If you change your mind, say the word, yeah? We don't have to jump.” 

“Kollité, I would do a lot of things to see you happy. Including jumping out of a plane with only a piece of cloth strapped to my back, like some crazy person.” 

Hob looks increasingly fond the longer Morpheus talks, and eventually he smacks a loud kiss to his cheek, and then another to his forehead and his nose and wherever he can reach from behind Morpheus’ back. It's silly and adorable and so Morpheus laughs, free from the fear of judgement he once had. 

“I like my men a little crazy.” Hob murmurs into his ear then, and Morpheus thinks he might choke on the thin and cold air. 

“Let's go boys!” Corin then calls over their headsets, which suddenly brings movement into the aeroplane. One after another, the Fiddlers jump out of the open door, some head-first, others (Ken) do a flip into nothingness. And all too soon, Hob and Morpheus are the only ones left on the plane. 

“Run. Makes it easier to jump,” Hob calls over the noise. 

Screw it, what is there to lose (except his life, the part of his brain that is not yet totally beyond salvation provides) anyway?

Together, he and Hob run the ten steps towards the door of the aircraft and jump. 

Morpheus regrets it almost immediately. 

Upon falling, his stomach swoops and turns in the most uncomfortable manner possible and when he looks down he sees certain death rushing at him. His heart pounds in his ears and he's pretty sure he doesn't breathe for at least a full minute with how light headed he feels as he finally sucks in his first breath. 

But then broad arms snake around his chest, impossibly warm hands are splayed across his ribs, and Morpheus feels himself melt against Hob. He trusts this man, quite literally with his life, proven as of this moment. After all, Hob is the one that has the parachute strapped to his back and he is also the one who knows how to work it. Morpheus thinks (hopes) that in an emergency he would remember the instructions Hob gave him a few hours ago and pull the right flap, but he prays it won't come to that.

He would much rather enjoy Hob's warmth against his back, the arms that hold him and not open his eyes again until they're on the ground once more. 

“Just hold onto me, love.” Hob whispers into his ear and Morpheus can’t help but snort. 

“Oh I’ll hang on, alright? Don’t think I will let you go though, once we’re on the ground.”

A chuckle, right beside his ear, and Morpheus simply closes his eyes and concentrates on Hob’s warmth, the wind on his face and the adrenaline rushing through his body. After that first moment of falling, the tingling in his stomach almost turns into a pleasant sensation and he feels like every breath fills his lungs up way past the limit. He could run a marathon right now without breaking a sweat, the amount of energy coursing through his veins is just perfect. 

Slowly he starts to understand why the other men were so excited for this team-building activity. 

Adrenaline-junkies, the lot of them. 

Morpheus opens his eyes next when they are suddenly jolted into a slower fall. As he looks upwards he sees the bright green parachute with the Fiddlers’ club crest in the middle that Hob has shown him during their preparation for the jump. Since this is a team building exercise, naturally all gear is sponsored by the club and usually Morpheus would find this incredibly tacky. But looking upon the crest of the Fiddlers only fills him with a sense of pride, to be using or wearing anything sponsored by this team is simply amazing. 

He’s proud of who he works for, who he’s representing, and the thought is so sudden Morpheus feels tears sting in his eyes. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hob’s voice sounds next to his right ear and Morpheus has to blink a few times before he can see clearly what Hob is referring to. But once he does he lets out a small gasp of surprise. The sun is setting on the far horizon and a few clouds break her light just so that reds and purples and pinks colour the sky around them like the most stunning of watercolour paintings. 

“Oh,” he whispers as the tears suddenly spill over, his throat closed off with emotions he can't quite name. It really is beautiful. The sky, the view, the man behind him. His life, really. He's grateful for so many things in that moment, but he manages to voice one thing.

“Thank you, Hob. For taking me along. And being patient with me.” 

“Anytime, lovey. Anytime.”

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Book is stolen from its family by a book hoarder and his ginger soulmate. Book is singed before the End of the World. Book has a ride in a burning vehicle but is not signed further. Book is returned during the End of the World. Book has seen delivered an interloper but it is fortunately disposed of.

(the fever dream might belong to the Agnes Nutter's book :D)

I haven’t read (or watched) good omens, give me a description of the book but make it accurate and sound like a fever dream

I'll offer this one up to the crowd...

[biblical-chronicles]

Forbidden frequencies

____________________________________________________

where an unsuspecting Noel ends up with Albarn's sister, to the dismay of both Damon and Liam.

____________________________________________________

The bell above the record shop door jingled softly as Noel Gallagher stepped inside, shaking off the chill of an autumn afternoon. The place had a kind of hidden charm, tucked away down a narrow ginnel like a secret only the dedicated could uncover. The handwritten “Open” sign swayed slightly in the breeze outside. Inside, the smell of old vinyl, wood, and dust filled the air, the faint strains of Abbey Road playing from a crackling speaker overhead. Noel exhaled slowly, tension melting from his shoulders.

This was his kind of place—no frills, no nonsense, just walls of records and the occasional nod from someone else who understood the quiet reverence of a good tune. No one here cared who he was, so long as he didn’t bend the sleeves or skip the queue.

He meandered through the aisles, fingers flipping idly through racks of records. There was no rush, just the occasional pause when a familiar cover caught his eye. He stopped at Never mind the bollocks, pulling it free to admire the striking neon sleeve. He was about to tuck it under his arm when he noticed you a few feet down.

You stood in front of a Beatles section, holding what seemed like a first press copy of Rubber Soul. Your fingers trailed lightly over the cover, and there was a thoughtful little crease between your brows. Something about the way you handled the record—deliberate but confident—caught his attention.

“Good pick,” Noel said, the words slipping out before he thought better of it.

Your head turned sharply, eyes widening just a fraction before softening into a smile. “Oh, thanks. Hard to go wrong with the Beatles, though, isn’t it?”

“Unless you’re one of those nutters who reckon Yellow Submarine beats Please Please Me,” he quipped, his lips tugging into a smirk.

Your laugh was quick and warm. “God, no. I’ve got standards.” Tilting the record toward him, you asked, “This one a favorite of yours?”

“Of course,” he said, stepping closer. “Masterpiece, that is. Melodies are something else. Proper record for those nights when everything’s gone to shit.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, yeah? What’s a lad like you got to brood about?”

Noel chuckled, sensing the tease. “Oh, the usual. Love, life, and trying not to strangle me brother.”

You laughed again, the sound drawing a grin from him. “Fair. And you? This your favorite?” He inquired.

You hesitated, then shrugged. “Depends on the day. Sometimes it’s Revolver, sometimes Sgt. Peppers. Today? This one just feels right.”

“Good instinct,” Noel said, nodding approvingly. “Though if you’re in a deep-cut mood, you can’t go wrong with The White Album. That’s chaos done right.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, and you leaned in slightly. “Exactly! It’s messy, but it works. Like everyone’s throwing ideas into the air, and somehow they all land perfectly.”

He blinked, caught off guard by how excitedly you’d summed up what he’d always thought. “Spot on. It’s like it’s alive, y’know?”

You smiled, and for a moment, the two of you stood there, the noise of the shop fading into the background.

“You’ve got good taste,” you said, gesturing at the record in his hand. “What’re you grabbing?”

Noel held up his record. “Bit of Sex Pistols. Can’t go wrong with a bit of punk.”

Your smile widened. “Can't say yer wrong, but Rotten did leg it when McCartney appraoched him, so what was that for a punk?”

Noel’s grin turned genuine. “You know yer stuff. Most people don't go after the deeper stories.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” you quipped, the hint of a challenge in your tone.

He chuckled. “Reckon you’re not. What else are you picking up?”

You gestured to the small stack under your arm. “Bit of Sabbath, some Led Zeppelin, a Yes album I’ve been meaning to check out for ages.”

“Eclectic,” Noel said, raising an eyebrow. “Not many people with range like that.”

You tilted your head, feigning a modest shrug. “You calling me special?”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, his smirk softening slightly.

The conversation flowed easily after that, topics shifting from music to gigs to the state of modern radio. Your wit was quick, matching him word for word, and he found himself fumbling once or twice which was a rarity for him.

Eventually, you glanced at your watch and sighed. “I should probably go before I spend my entire paycheck here.”

“Smart move,” Noel said, though a pang of reluctance crept into his voice.

“Nice meeting you Noel, was it?”

“Yeah. And you?”

Your smile turned playful. “Guess you’ll have to figure that out.”

You gave a small wave and disappeared out the door, the bell jingling faintly behind you.

Noel lingered for a moment, staring at the spot you’d just vacated. “Idiot,” he muttered. “Didn’t even get her bloody number.”

A few days later, he was nursing a pint at the Top of the Pops awards. The usual chaos of flashing cameras, egos, and far too many people crowded into the space made the atmosphere feel almost suffocating. Liam was beside him, ranting about something he couldn’t care less about. He kept half an ear on Liam’s rambling, but his gaze was elsewhere, drifting across the room with a lazy, detached air.

And then, his eyes landed on you.

You were standing by the far side of the room, looking quite relaxed despite the glitzy surroundings. You were mid-laugh, your glass in hand, and the way you held yourself made it clear you were in your element. Noel froze for a moment, his drink halfway to his lips.

“Oi, Liam,” he muttered, nudging his brother, but not tearing his eyes away from you.

“What now?” Liam grumbled, clearly irritated at being interrupted.

Noel jerked his chin toward you. “That girl over there. You recognize her?”

Liam followed Noel’s gaze, and his face lit up with a wicked grin. “No way. That’s the bird from the shop that you've been on about, innit?”

“Yeah,” Noel muttered, already regretting pointing you out.

But Liam was already on a roll. “Oh, mate, you’re mad’ for her, aren’t ya? Look at you, all shifty. Noel Gallagher, lost for words—this is priceless.”

“Will you shut it?” Noel snapped, his cheeks flushing despite himself.

Liam wasn’t deterred, still grinning. “Hang on—wait a minute.” He squinted again, his eyes narrowing. “Is that… is that not Albarn’s sister? Y/N?”

Noel blinked, his stomach sinking. “What are you on about?”

“I’m tellin’ ya, that’s Damon’s sister,” Liam said, looking far too pleased with himself. “Seen her around with Blur’s lot before. Bloody hell, Noel. That’s messy even for you.”

Noel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “You sure?”

“Positive,” Liam said, leaning in conspiratorially. "And let me tell ya, if Albarn finds out, he’ll go off his bloody rocker, mate. I’m not buzzin’ about the idea either, to be fair. You don’t go mixin’ with the other lot, do ya? We are like royalty here, y’know what I’m sayin’? So yeah, I’d think twice about that, Noel. Might be some trouble you don’t wanna get into."

Noel glanced back at her, biting the inside of his cheek. She did look a bit like Damon now that Liam had mentioned it, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Chemistry like theirs didn’t come around often, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away because of some band rivalry, and Liam's not so sober rant.

“Can’t choose your siblings, can ya?” he muttered under his breath. “Look at me and you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liam shot back, but Noel ignored him, already stepping away.

He made his way through the crowd, trying to be casual but feeling his pulse quicken as he neared your table.

You spotted him before he even spoke. Your eyes widened slightly, recognition dawning, and a smile spread across your face.

“Noel! Hi,” you said, setting your glass down on the table.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, slipping into a smirk. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just trying to survive the madness,” you said, gesturing around at the chaotic room. “What about you?”

“Same,” he said, leaning in casually against the edge of the table. “Thought I’d step over and say hello. Fancy a smoke?”

You hesitated for just a moment, then your smile grew. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

Noel nodded, then turned to head toward the exit. He didn’t look back—trying to play it cool, but his pulse was quickening, and he couldn’t stop the small grin tugging at his lips.

Back at your table you were scrambling to reach for your bag as quick as possible, yet just as you wanted to leave Damon appeared by your side.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice low but tense.

You turned to face him “What was what?”

“That,” Damon said, gesturing toward the direction Noel had gone. “Why was he talking to you?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “He just came over to say hi. What’s your problem?”

“My problem,” Damon hissed, “is that it’s Noel Gallagher. You know exactly what he’s like.”

“And?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “We were just talking. Calm down, Damon.”

Damon frowned, his frustration mounting. “You shouldn’t be talking to him. Trust me on this.”

You only shook your head, brushing him off. “I’m going outside. I need some air.”

Before Damon could respond, you slipped through the crowd and walked towards the exit.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, a refreshing change from the claustrophobic heat inside. You spotted Noel immediately, leaning against the wall a little way down the pavement, a cigarette already hanging from his lips.

He looked up as you approached, his gaze steady but soft.

“Thought I’d lost you,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Not a chance,” you said, pulling a cigarette from the bag you grabbed earlier.

Noel raised an eyebrow as you held it between your fingers, clearly waiting for a light. Instead of fumbling for a lighter, he leaned forward, the tip of his cigarette glowing as he inhaled deeply.

“Here,” he said, tilting his head slightly, holding the burning end close enough for you to light yours from it.

You stepped closer, leaning in, eyes locked on his as you inhaled allowing for the cigarette to catch the flame. For a moment, you lingered there, feeling the faint scent of smoke mixing with his cologne.

“Thanks,” you said softly, leaning back and taking a slow drag.

“No bother,” he replied, his voice low.

You stood there for a moment, the sounds of the city humming faintly in the background. There was something about the way you looked at him, your gaze warm but curious, it made Noel feel completely at ease.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he asked, taking a drag from his own cigarette.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again after the shop,” you admitted, your lips curving into a faint smile.

“Funny,” he said, exhaling smoke. “I was thinking the same.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, the same unspoken rhythm you’d had in the record shop taking over. Every laugh, every sideways glance felt charged, like there was something electric in the air between you.

Noel was just starting to feel comfortable—too comfortable—when the door behind you slammed open.

“Oi, Noel, you got a fag or what?” Liam’s voice cut through the night, loud and unmistakable.

Noel sighed, already fishing for his pack. But Liam froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing as they landed on you.

“Oh, for—what did I just tell you?” Liam said, pointing accusingly. “I warned ya, Noel. Warned ya!”

“Warned him about what?” came another voice, sharp and angry.

You turned to see Damon standing in the doorway, his expression thunderous.

“Knew I couldn’t trust you,” Damon said, stalking over. “What’re you doing out here with him?”

“She’s just having a smoke,” Noel said evenly, though his jaw tightened.

Damon ignored him, glaring at you. “You shouldn’t even be near him. I told you.”

“And I told you to calm down,” you said firmly, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t talk to them like that,” Liam interjected, stepping closer to Damon. “Who d’you think you are? Telling me brother what to do?”

Damon whirled on Liam. “Stay out of it, Gallagher. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It bloody does now, doesn’t it?” Liam shot back, puffing out his chest.

Before anyone could stop them, the two were shouting at each other, their insults escalating with every exchanged word.

Noel sighed, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.

You glanced at him, your lips twitching into a grin. “Fancy sneaking off?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Noel said, smirking as you reached for his hand.

Fingers intertwined, you slipped away unnoticed, leaving the chaos behind you.

You and Noel didn’t stop moving until the shouting from Liam and Damon faded behind you, replaced by the low murmur of distant conversations and the occasional clink of glasses from a nearby bar. You turned a corner, ducking into a quiet ginnel, the chaos of the club left far behind.

Noel took a deep breath, his lips twisting into that signature lopsided smirk. “Well, that was a bit of a disaster, wasn’t it?”

You chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Disaster’s one word for it. You alright?”

“Me?” he scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sound, love. Used to Liam mouthing off at everyone. Not sure your brother’s got the stamina to keep up with the master, though.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Damon’s always like that. Gets his knickers in a twist over nothing.”

“Well, I reckon I'm gonna make his knickers twisted like never before” Noel said humorously, leaning against the wall, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You’re not wrong,” you admitted, stepping in beside him. “But don’t take it too personally. He just thinks he’s looking out for me.”

“Bit late for that, innit? Considering you’re already out here with me.” His tone was playful, but there was an edge to it—like he knew exactly what kind of trouble he was getting into.

You glanced over at him, feeling a smile creep onto your face. You didn’t need to speak for a second; the laughter in the air shifted to something quieter, more intimate. You caught your gaze dropping to your intertwined hands, and for a moment, neither of you had let go, your fingers still locked together, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Noel noticed your gaze and followed it, his smirk faltering just a bit before he started to pull his hand back. “Oh—shit. Sorry—”

Before he could move too far, you caught his hand, stopping him with a gentle tug. “Don’t be,” you said, your voice softer now, your thumb lightly brushing over his skin.

Before Noel could reply, you were closer, your free hand lightly brushing against his arm, and then your lips met his.

For a moment, he was completely still, surprised—then, like it was second nature, he tightened his grip on your hand, pulling you closer. His other hand found your waist, steadying you as you both fell into the kiss.

It wasn’t slow, not really. The heat between you was instant, the kind of kiss that had been waiting to happen for far too long. The world around you seemed to disappear entirely as he deepened the kiss, the sharp taste of smoke and alcohol mixing with the cool night air.

You kissed him back, the pressure building, hands wandering as the night stretched out like it could last forever. His lips were demanding, yet there was a tenderness there, as if he was trying to make sure he wasn’t pushing you too fast, too hard. But you didn’t want slow.

The kiss deepened again, no hesitation now—just the two of you, tangled together in the ginnel, with only the sound of your breath and the pulse of desire filling the space between you. Noel’s hand slid lower, pulling you flush against him, his fingers splayed wide as if he couldn’t get close enough.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless, Noel didn’t pull away, his forehead resting lightly against yours. He grinned, but it was different now, more genuine than his usual cheeky smirk. “Didn’t see that coming,” he murmured, his voice low, thick with surprise and something else—something deeper.

You let out a soft laugh, still catching your breath. “Neither did I,” you said, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Not that I’m complaining” he added quickly, his smirk returning with a new glint in his eyes.

You laughed again, louder this time, the sound making him smile wider, his hands still lingering on you. For a moment, you just stood there, caught up in each other, the rest of the world and its noise slipping into the background.

Noel’s grin softened, and for the first time in a while, there was something in his eyes that wasn’t just mischief. Something real.

"You're trouble," he murmured, the words just a whisper against your skin.

“Only for you,” you shot back, your fingers tracing his jaw, an unspoken promise hanging in the air between you.

And just like that, you both knew: This wasn’t over, and both Liam and Damon had to come to terms with that.

__________________________________________________

I am dead tired, but hope you lot liked that. Got a couple more lush stories about Noel to bang out this weekend so keep an eye out xx

[kinogane]

Assorted Sinner-Specific Canto VI Predictions/Manifestations

YI SANG: gets recognized as a former T Corp. architect/has one (1) well-placed swear FAUST: says A Nice Thing about Heathcliff and his intelligence then immediately undercuts it with a remark about alleviating his inferiority complex DON QUIXOTE: "WE MUST PROTECT THE FAIR LADY CATHERINE FOR THE SAKE OF SIR HEATH—" *is caught up to speed* "She must perish." RYŌSHŪ: openly and ruthlessly critiques every piece of art in Wuthering Heights, scoffing at their S.H.I.T. taste MEURSAULT: drafted into undercover butler shenanigans. nails it, but openly gives up he is undercover when questioned by the staff HONG LU: "Oh wow! This is what other extremely normal families are like!"/literally fucking anything of substance at all ISHMAEL: *puts hand on Heathcliff's shoulder* "No, really, now, of all times, you should be going berserk. You are 100% correct and justified in doing so." RODION: plays along with some rich nutter's nonsense in conversation while her fists are shaking from how badly she wants to cleave the asshole's head in half SINCLAIR: does an accidental classism (he meant well) (Rodya's gonna talk with him later) OUTIS: for some reason is trying to run the servants and housekeepers like a fucking platoon GREGOR: makes a joke about being an old geezer to someone who is like, double his age, then backs down with "Yeah. Heh heh... Forget I said anything."

[otomiyaa]

Re: Catching Up

Finally reading the reblogs and mentions of my tag game (my main reason for starting that was to read about what y'all are up to while I neglected tha dashboard lolol) and dumping some replies here to some peeps I follow^^

General note to all: so happy to see the multiple excited reactions to Inside Out 2 hehehe, I loved it so much T0T

@crazy-as-a-jaybird THE SIMS 4 LOVESTRUCK!!!!! I didn't know that was coming! I haven't played the sims in a long time, but gee that's exciting news, thnx! ..... I wonder if there will be some nice loveydovey tickle animations in there....

@italeean "You guys probably already know what I'll say" (about Jujutsu Kaisen 0 movie), actually I don't know 👀 it's been a while since I saw that movie when it was released in the cinema here, but you made me curious to your reaction. What did you think? :3

@giggly-squiggily omg Blue Lock & Haikyuu hypehype and did you also love to see these lazy gamer guys Kenma and Nagi dominate the big screens as heroes to their respective movies, so shortly after each other, what a time to be alive 🤩

@fantasizes-tickles-daily My Adventures with Superman ng;dngifdgjdhljfni;oji I still need to start the new season but omfg I'm so glad finally someone else is into this hehehe, I love that! I'm also not a big DC fan, I didn't even see most movies, but I LOVE THIS ONE. Clark is the cutest isn't he?

@eliankrios YOU PLAY THE SIMS 4????? 👀 also thank you for those banger song recs. I only knew 'save my life' from xandria but not valentine or others :3

@wertzunge Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, I saw that one on the plane a while ago, I enjoyed that too!!! I wonder if they will do more :3 I never played the game though....

@tiklart SHARK MOVIE SUFFERERS WE ARE HAHA, also good luck on your exams!🫶 sending good luck vibes~

@gladdygirl18 ❤️❤️❤️ sending good love life prayers, hope all will go well! and yay for fellow minecraft enjoyer :D

@sunstone-smiles I LOVE ESPRESSO odjs;dgjhih ih but I didn't like it at first either :') it had to grow on me too.

@kusuguricafe seeing you talk about your genshin abyss teams makes me go 💀💀💀 it's been so long since I played genshin, especially abyss. Are you managing the 3 stars each chamber f12 cuz I've only succeeded like once at it or smth. oh and I hope you'll have fun writing again soon! Don't push yourself too much for tickletober, as long as it stays fun*w*

@blobbirobbi wow I knew all 3 of those artists but not those songs, thnx for the recs :D especially the Måneskin hohoho

@sleepysheepytea feels indeed like ages since I saw your activity on my dash, wishing you the best of luck with work and stuff^^

@hypahticklish that was literally my reaction too to the movie The Fall Guy, I loved that so much and you described it so well 😍 I thought it would be a "Haha funny" movie but it really moved me and I also didn't expect the first part to be so emotional. p.s. thnx for the blank copy paste, sorry for forgetting 🥲🥲

@a-fluffer-nutter wow good luck on the move to the UK and congrats on 8 years tumblr, I still remember you being one of the first tk blogs i encountered 😌

@lovelymessybubbly wooow it feels like AGES, sorry to hear about the low mental energy but hope you're doing well ^^!

[bibliophilicstranger]

Since these are basically the same ask, I've just screenshotted them to combine them.

I am once again requesting that if you want to start an argument you do your part a bit better and give a thesis and some supporting arguments.

I think Hermione does deserve Harry.

Hermione Granger is amazing. She is incredibly smart and magically talented. She has a huge heart, cares deeply for others, and is one of the most loyal individuals in the entire series.

Hermione could have escaped the conflict. She could have gone to her parents after her fourth year and told them that Voldemort was back, she was in danger because of being a muggleborn, and asked to leave the country then. She could have asked to leave after year five, when she was injured at the Department of Mysteries. She could have left on her own after year six, when she was of age in the wizarding world, and gone to any other country that would have her. She could have taken her parents with her to Australia, making it Wendell, Monica, and Jane Wilkins (I do think she'd change her name from Hermione-- it's too uncommon). Hermione could have found another magical school or abandoned her magical studies for the muggle world, where she likely could have caught up to her peers and then moved on to University. Hermione had options. Instead she charmed her own parents to make sure they were safe, knowing she was putting herself in the maximum amount of danger by staying in Britain at the side of the most wanted wizard in the country. She chose to stay at her friend's side when he needed her the most.

She chose to stay at Harry's side in year four, when no one else believed him, not even his first friend. She chose to stay at his side in year five, when most of the school thought he was a nutter. She chose to stay at his side in year six, even when she thought he was wrong. And she chose to stay at his side in year seven, when the government had fallen, they were cold, starving, and facing a near-impossible task with few clues and fewer resources.

I simply don't understand where you're coming from if you think Hermione doesn't deserve Harry.