#and Link has to restart. again. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amiharana · 2 years ago

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A very loose prompt: a while ago I found a bunch of Stone tower temple theme covers (especially NostalgiCore's and TheNamelessBard's covers), and that got me in a Revalink mood: first, a pretty straightforward idea of Revali and BotW!Link somehow walking around Stone Tower ruins and wondering just what those ruins were in its prime, and second: the tunes living on, and Revali or Link dancing to one of them while the other is watching (also, the fact that one of the catchiest fan lyrics go "danger lurks around every bend, you cannot succed alone; sing the song, let go of your grief, solider comes whose heart is stone" could be pretty easily made to fit revalink: both Link and Revali have reasons to craft an image of themselves as an unsheakeble warrior (Link literally stopped talking out of fear of saying the wrong thing, and Revali tries to look like the most arrogant Rito to ever walk Hyrule, despite evidence to the countrary) as someone who may as well have a heart of stone, and both of them have things they grieve about, so them going together through Ikana valley - a place that requires putting ghosts to rest - would sound a lot like fulfilling the lyrics. Bonus points if they actually need to solve the Stone Tower puzzles together to go back to BotW and key Ikana characters are still around to help them(not really ship relevant, I just thought it would be lowkey funny when BotW boys would bump into Ikana undead and learn that one of the Hero incarnations had shown up here already).

anon i first want to sincerely apologize it took me so long to answer this ask because (1) i never finished playing majora's mask so i can't write a good enough fic to do justice to mm lore and (2) it was sent during a time when i was probably prepping for an exam. i'm still prepping for exams, i have another one next wednesday 😭

but i still took the time to go find and listen the covers you were mentioned! i hope these were the right ones, because they went kinda hard ☝️😩 they both made me think about a tangled au like flynn rider!revali x rapunzel!link, like that one scene where everyone is dancing together in the town center or whatever lol. i couldn't find the one you mentioned with fan lyrics though but if you'd like to send them, or if anyone else knows where it's from, please do!

iirc, termina is a completely different world from hyrule and oot!link somehow gets in after an altercation with skull kid who has the majora's mask. spoilers for people who haven't played mm? but i just read that termina was a creation of skull kid's own mind so it's not even a real world 😳 so i'm interested to know how link and revali got into the stone tower temple in the first place, or if another temple of the same name perhaps exists in hyrule analogous to the one in termina. like would they run into skull kid somewhere in botw's hyrule? or find the mask on their own (since majora's mask is available in botw as dlc) and somehow termina still exists within the mask? link why the fuck would you put on the mask what da hell?

i would assume that termina's existence relies on skull kid's active envisionment of it and link's constant resetting with the ocarina that causes the perpetual three-day time loop and prevents the moon from falling. and in addition, that termina was created with the purpose of being skull kid's plaything to . hurt and kill people out of his frustration? like i said, i never got to finish mm so i'm kind of iffy on the details of the story sawrryy ✋😭 but it's like. does termina go against the conventions of time? if we assume that termina is a creation of skull kid's imagination, will it be able to continue existing as its own world? will it always be in a three-day loop or after oot!link saves termina, does it continue in a regular continuous flow of time, therefore resulting in the ruins of the stone tower temple? would places like clock town still be thriving thousands of years later? like what if link and revali met skull kid somehow in botw, pissed him off, got dragged in termina, and had to go exactly through what oot!link did in order to escape LMAOOO

i could imagine revali and link bickering about how the other was the reason why they got into this mess, and then they step into clock town from within the clock tower and are completely shocked because they were just in the lost woods and now they're in the middle of a town??? you mentioned wanting to see them meet key mm characters specifically from ikana, but since i don't know any of them (i'm sorry again 😭), imagine link and revali meeting anju at the stockpot inn just trying to get a room to sleep and anju being like. huh. your name is link, too? and having to explain to revali n link that a child in green with the same name and disposition as botw!link had come to termina years ago and saved their town from the moon falling and destroying it. and revali and link are just like. The moon was WHAT? and a CHILD saved you????

link and revali joining in during the carnival of time, and maybe the carnival of time now has a segment where they retell the story of the child in green who saved termina through song and dance, and link gets roped into dancing with the townspeople during the stone temple tower piece. he doesn't know the dance at all, but one thing about link is that he picks up very quickly on everything 😙 so revali is off to the sides of the town center with everyone else crossing his arms, watching link as he begins to catch onto the choreography and keeping in step with the rest of the dancers. he spins and twirls and claps with the other dancers, a smile growing on his face as the song continues, and revali is completely enamored. link had always been beautiful to him, but he was constantly surprisingly revali. this might become one of revali's favorite aspects of link's beauty now.

by the end of the dance, link is panting, sweating, and his cheeks are flushed with a rosy glow. revali's eyes are still on him; they never left link at all. someone nudges revali with their elbow and he glances at them briefly. "that one yours?" they say with a smirk, pointing their chin at link. revali looks back at link, who's smiling brightly thanking and complimenting the other dancers. the little hylian then catches revali's eye, and his bright grin becomes a shy, but warm smile.

revali's gaze softens. "he's not a object to possess," he says to the stranger. he watches as link bows slightly to the other dancers in farewell, then begins to jog back over to revali. "but if there's any possession occuring, it would be his hold on my heart." the stranger says nothing, eyes wide.

once link approaches, his jog falters into a walk. "have fun?" revali says, rather softly.

link nods, smiling. "i didn't think i'd learn it that fast, but it was a really fun dance."

revali hums. "well, it looked like you had fun doing it. ready to turn in for the night?"

"mhm," link replies, and revali can hear the drowsiness beginning to seep into his ever-slumberous songbird's voice. the little hylian then moves forward to cling to revali's wing, and the rito glances at the stranger who's been watching their exchange the entire time.

"enjoy the rest of your evening," revali says primly to him. he tosses his braids over his shoulder as they turn away to walk back to the inn. while he didn't "own" link, it was true, at least, that his heart was for link to own.

i don't want this to get too long and end up misremembering details or something, but imagine some of the lyrics of the stone tower temple song resonating too deeply with revali and link after they think about it later, so they ask anju about it and she tells them about the actual stone tower temple in ikana valley that the song talks about and maybe that's how they end up traveling to the temple, exploring the ruins, somehow getting booby-trapped inside, and having to complete old-school dungeon puzzles to get out 😄

that's all from me for now. if anyone else is interested in writing for this prompt, go for it 🫣

#revalink #loz #botw #loz botw #legend of zelda #amihan's revalinkverse #ask #i tried my best to answer this and i still barely hit the points oh well lmao 🥹#i know i keep saying sorry anon but i rly am ㅠㅠ #i'm getting so many signs to go finish the game #one of my classmates sent me an audio recording of them playing the song of healing today like #WHEN THE SEMESTER ENDS ILL RESTART MM AGAIN!!!#“you cannot succeed alone” me when link and the champions #would the rito exist in termina if it was a real world #skull kid has never met a rito before that's why there aren't any rito in termina #he doesn't have the imagination to conjure up bird people in the dream world #i think i talked ab it before but #i hc that both revali n link hate the idea of someone being their “better half” bc really that shit is stupid #they both believe you should be good on your own so that with your partner you're incredible together #that's why revali acted that way when the clock town stranger said “is that one yours?”#he probably meant like. is that your lover. but revali is a prickly dickhead

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caesium-55 · 8 months ago

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—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

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123ohwell · 3 months ago

Text

LEVERAGE GRIFT TRACKER

I FINISHED SEASON 1! Shoutout to @grandma-waldo for the idea

Extra details in the parameters and the job list. I kept a list of all grifts in order they occur through season 1. If I thought about it before hand I would have draw a line between each episode but oh well hindsight and all that.

Any questions? Yes I welcome them and I'll try to answer them. Want to know why I split something? Just ask - there was definitely an overthought process to my madness. Any ideas on adjusting job titles? I want to hear it please. I invested too much in this lol but it's been fun.

Season 1 was tough in trying to decide what the jobs would be while trying to keep them broad and trying to think so I wouldn't need to add anymore come later seasons . Also me and excel nearly got into a fight.

I'm going to do the rest of the show but that will be slow coming. When I figure out how to make a master list with links, I'll make one. Since this is like my 4th post on the topic and there will be a bunch more to come

Surprises and Revelations

- Hardison grifts in intense spurts

- there was only 1 real royalty grift in season 1??? And it was hardison?? But there were 5 Southern Belle/Beau grifts

- Sophie was the first athelete?? Ik I already posted that but it still shocked me (Olympic luge)

- Parker interacts with people more than most of the team - she thieves in the shadows but she talks to people often as a misdirection

- FBI and just an ordinary person (Civilian) were the most common grifts of season 1 > not surprised since everyone played FBI in pilot part 2

- runner up was The Damsel. Plenty of times the team did the Damsel and Damsel's Knight grift together as a misdirection. But going "oh no I need help" to a stranger/mark was more popular

- Hardison and Parker were the most likely to play the Damsel card

(Sidenote: i thought about wanting to know all the scams the team calls out in the show. "Burn scam" "the cherry pie" etc. But I think someone has already made a list but I can't find it. Also my family might kill me if I restart the show - again. I was already getting side eyes for skipping back a few seconds to check out who was grifting when I wasn't paying attention)

If you've read this far! Thank you! Hope you have a great week!

#grift tracker #leverage #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker leverage #leverage ot3 #sophie devereaux #nate ford #grifters gonna grift

391 notes · View notes

jina-juhi · 9 months ago

Text

Feels like

you can love again.

Pairing : Johnny × fem!reader

Rating : 18+

warning: smut with plot, protected sex, i tried fluff? fluffy sex? and heart break. and basically all things sex. oh alcoholism. cute sex? plus doggy style plus face sitting:) oral m/f

word count : 4.5k

summary : I could fuck you, right here, right now, but only if you'd ask.

[if you wanna skip to the smut part just go straight down]

Playlist

all too well, Taylor Swift

you heard me, Heather Sommer

1 step forward, 3 steps back, Olivia rodrigo

graveyard, halsey

right where you left me, taylor swift

wouldn't come back, Trousdale

ghost of you, Selena Gomez

company, Justin Bieber

yours, Raiden

crushing, illenium

begin again, Taylor Swift

feels like, Gracie Abraham

link

When all is said and done, and the person you loved is no longer there, what's left to do? How do you cope when you've given your all, only to find yourself empty, a mere shell of your former self? It's like being left with nothing but bones and muscles, a broken machine barely keeping you going.

So, how do you restart? How do you function when they've taken everything and left you with nothing? How do you shift your mindset to believe that this is all for the better? And most daunting of all, how do you open your heart to love again?

It feels like trying to breathe without air, as if the very essence of life has deserted you, leaving behind a jagged landscape of shattered pieces. It's dangerous to get too close to those sharp edges, so you stand alone and don't let anyone close. Trying to find yourself again.

Stand alone and contemplate what you've gotten yourself into and what you've done to yourself. How could you have ignored the warning signs? They were crystal clear. How could you have not predicted it? Too innocent.

Too gullible to let him in.

Thinking about it now feels pointless. "He was a nice guy, but he was too caught up in himself. He never really saw me. He claimed he did, but I never felt truly understood," you confide while he brews your coffee.

"I never felt loved by him," you add, as he sets the mugs on the counter—one for each of you. It's a chilly evening, and the cafe where he works is quieter than usual. You're a regular here; it feels like a safe haven, a place where you can find comfort in familiarity. You accept your coffee in silence, opting not to say more.

"Take a deep breath," he urges, his voice gentle as he nods, trying to seem strong and supportive. "How?" you reply absentmindedly, staring out the window where the fog thickens by the second. The ache in your heart grows, and despair overwhelms you as you fall back into the familiar trap of negative thoughts.

"He wasn't giving you what you needed. You shouldn't have to beg for love. Believe me when I say it's for the best that he's gone." He says.

"I loved him."

"You did, Maybe you still do, but people change," he interjects gently, his gaze fixed on the coffee between you, his words carefully chosen. "In different ways. You may have promised forever, but forever is a long time. Sometimes you grow together, and sometimes... you grow apart. It's nobody's fault in the end. You just drift away, lose that connection, maybe take each other for granted, and before you know it, the fights start."

His voice falters slightly, betraying the depth of his emotions. "I know it might not make sense right now, but what I'm trying to say is... you deserved more than what he could give you. Trust me, you're better off without him."

You inhale deeply, shaking your head in resignation. Raindrops cascade down the window, distorting the glow of the city lights outside. His words echo in your mind, and as you take another sip of coffee, its comforting aroma envelops you. Yes, he's right. You're undeniably better off without him, yet the ache lingers.

Why does it still hurt, months after the breakup? Why does the pain persist, stubbornly refusing to fade away? Days blur into months, but the heartache remains a constant companion. People change, move on. But the pain always stays. It gets a little better each day. You learn to accept. You learn to love yourself. Yet, just when you think you've moved on, something triggers that familiar ache, dragging you back to square one.

But life doesn't pause for heartache. Despite the pain, the world keeps spinning, and you move forward, one step forward and three steps back, hating, crying, wanting, but never stopping.

~~~

A year and almost a half have passed since then. Things have been getting better. The clouds are clearing up, leaving behind a little less hurt and a lot more clarity. There's a sense of hold, of something stirring within—gratefulness, perhaps, or hope. Or maybe its the sound of a familiar ring at the door. You turn around to see a familiar face, a smile lighting up your face as you recognize Johnny.

"A latte, please," you say as he approaches, his presence bringing a comforting warmth to the room. Johnny nods, his gentle demeanor never faltering as he starts to brew your coffee. Johnny's a gentleman, and a law student. He works part-time in this cafe, not because he's broke or anything. He simply lives the high life. Gym first, then college, and then in the cafe followed by late nights of studying. He's a quiet guy who keeps to himself. Disciplined and courteous. Doesn't really like to waste his time on the things undeserving of his attention.

Your friendship with Johnny began in this very place. You remember it must have been around 10 o'clock at night, you had just split up with your ex. It was a stormy night, It felt like the world was collapsing around you and someone was sucking the breath out of your lungs, alone and broken, you found this cafe nearby. The rain was pouring nonstop, so you decide to take refuge, sitting in the corner, your tears flow with the raindrops tapping against the windowpane.

Jhonny brings you a cup of coffee and a napkin with words of reassurance, "It'll be okay, just hold on."

He saw you when you felt invisible to the world, and he understood you when no one else could. In Johnny, you found not just a friend, but a shimmer of light in your darkest moments.

You still have that note.

Jhonny could hardly fathom the possibility of falling in love, especially with someone as uniquely eccentric as you. Little did he know, his heart had already been quietly captivated by your presence over the passing months. As you walked through that door, disheveled and drenched from the rain, the only word that echoed in his mind was "beautiful." From that moment on, an unspoken longing stirred within him, urging him to reach out and connect with you. He extended that napkin, not just to offer solace, but as a gesture of his desire to understand you, to unravel the mysteries you hide behind those smiles. There was an enigmatic force pulling him toward you, compelling him to take that first step.

You became a regular at the café, grateful for Johnny's caring nature. It seemed like nobody else noticed you like he did. Unintentionally, Johnny had fallen deeply in love with you over the past few months. He paid attention to everything about you - your likes, dislikes, comfort songs, and movies you could watch a 100 times.

He became your confidance, your best friend, always there when you needed him. Watching you cry over someone unworthy filled him with the desire to show you wat true love actually is. Late at night, he found himself thinking about you, wondering if you were okay, if you had eaten, or if you were thinking of him. He felt your sadness as if it were his own and rejoiced in your happiness. But despite his feelings, he couldn't bring himself to confess his love.

Simply put, Johnny wanted you. He wanted to show you what true love was, and that no girl deserved to be treated the way you were, left alone in the middle of nowhere, weeping in the pouring rain. Hearing about your past hurt him, but it also revealed your strength and resilience, which only made him love you more. He wasn't drawn to the roses and smiles you showed the world; he was captivated by the scars and bruises you tried to hide.

The more Johnny got to know you, the deeper he fell.

However, he made a conscious decision to hold back because he didn't want to become a rebound love. Instead, he wished for you to heal from the wounds of your past relationship, to move forward and see him for who he truly was, not just as a replacement for what your ex lacked.

He longed for the day when you would accept him completely, with no remains of the past clouding your judgment. So, he waited patiently, hoping for your heart to mend. Hoping for you to let go. Hoping for you to see him.

Time passed away, six months turned into a year, yet you still struggled to let go completely. Though it was getting better, the ghost of your past still lingered, haunting your thoughts and emotions.

How could you not feel shattered? Johnny was just too good for you, too kind. But when you've been hurt before, love becomes terrifying. Trying to piece things together while pretending to be okay is exhausting. It's hard to focus on anything when you're struggling to keep it together. Knowing you love someone and they love you back, yet being unable to fully embrace it because you're afraid of losing them, of getting hurt again - it's paralyzing.

And then there's the guilt. Even though your past relationship ended a year ago, the promises made still weigh heavily on your conscience. How do you reconcile having Johnny in your thoughts while someone else occupies a part of your heart? It feels unfair to him, but you can't shake the feeling.

How are you supposed to let go and move forward when your heart is still stuck in the past? People say "move on" like it's easy, it's anything but easy. It feels like an impossible task, especially when nobody seems to understand what you're going through.

Except for him. Johnny. He understands.

It's so damn difficult," you thought to yourself, feeling the weight of your emotions. Letting go seemed like the simplest solution, but in reality, it was anything but easy. As Johnny led you towards his flat, the thought lingered at the back of your mind.

He mentioned the party he was hosting with his friends at him appartment, someone got a job or something. The atmosphere inside was luxurious, yet simple. with crimson sofas exuding a regal aura in the soft golden light. The air was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla candles and the sound of champagne being poured, it was cozy.

The gathering was intimate, with only the chosen few invited. Amidst the fancy party, all you could think about was Johnny. You wanted to tell him how you felt, that you'd fallen for him too, about the guilt that shouldn't be feeling. Johnny was the best guy you'd ever met, and you couldn't just let him go because you were scared. Even though your past hasn't been great, you didn't want to hurt him because you knew he loved you too. Since the day you met, he's been there for you. And he still is, always there in every little thing. It feels like you're stuck in between, torn between your feelings for him and the uncertainty.

As Johnny left momentarily, you found yourself walking towards the balcony, away from the small talk and pretense inside, with a bottle of champagne. all you needed was a stunning view of the city's glittering skyscrapers, illuminated by the twinkling lights.

You craved peace of mind, a moment to quiet the storm raging within you. Being around Johnny, even for just an hour, had a profound effect on you, all the thoughts and insecurities on one side, and all the feelings of desire and lust, unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

There was no rush of blood and getting all hot and bothered every time your prior partner looked at you. You would never have felt this shy and nervous in his presence. Yes, there was attraction, but nothing like this, but with Johnny, it is the exact opposite. His mere presence left you weak-kneed and breathless, yearning to surrender to the intoxicating pull between you. He awakens you. He makes you want to succumb to him, give into him.

Yes, you yearn to experience the warmth of love, to be cherished and valued in return. And perhaps, deep down, you crave these feelings from Johnny, who has shown himself to be both kind and breathtakingly amazing. The way he gazes at you speaks volumes about his feelings for you.

It's confusing, isn't it? Frightening even. Because all you've ever known about Love is that it breaks and burns and ends, yet here you are, falling for Johnny despite your fears. It's a terrifying feeling, but there's something about it that makes you want to continue. Makes you want to keep dreaming. But you're afraid to confess your feelings, terrified that you'll only end up hurting Johnny in the process. It's hard to find the words, to admit to yourself, let alone to him, that you're falling for him. But despite the uncertainty and the fear, there's an urge within you, a desire to reach out and claim him for your own. All you want is to grab his face, to feel his lips against yours, and to lose yourself in the sweetness of his embrace.

Hard.

And never let him go. You've been thinking about it, about you. And him. And since, you've been moving on, you've been trying to forget and forgive and embrace and accept. You have come to a conclusion that amidst all the chaos, Johnny was the only one there. And that you have hopelessly fallen in love with him.

~~~

Hey," he says, joining you on the balcony, "you're standing alone?"

"Hey jj," you reply, meeting his gaze.

"You call me 'jj' when you're happy," he remarks, puzzled because your tone isn't cheerful.

"I guess I'm happy, sort of. It's been a while, but it feels good," you admit, looking at him standing beside you. He smiles, his eyes filled with happiness. He's genuinely pleased for you.

"That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."

He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"

That's great," he says with genuine enthusiasm. "Actually, that's fantastic."

He eyes the glass of alcohol in your hand. "Can I have that glass, though?"

"Nope, I'm having a pretty good time," you say, pulling the glass away from him. He noticed a whole bottle nearby on the floor. "I think you've had enough for the night, darling."

darling.

Even in the dim light, Johnny couldn't miss the blush spreading across your cheeks. He's skilled at noticing your reactions and knows how to tease you.

Trying to steer the conversation away from any awkwardness, you say, "So I was thinking..."

"About?" he interjects playfully, trying to provoke a response.

"Everything that's happened, you know, with my ex, and then with you," you begin, but he interrupts.

"Oh, nothing happened between us, as far as I can remember... unless..." he trails off, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"That's not what I meant," you quickly clarify.

"Okay, okay, just kidding. But I kinda wish you did mean it," he mutters under his breath, a smirk forming on his face.

You feel your thoughts becoming fuzzy as you both dance around the topic. Usually, your brain would shut down any such ideas, but tonight feels different. Instead of being repelled, you feel drawn to him, wanting something you've suppressed for so long.

Despite trying to hold back, you find yourself unable to think of anything else.

As the alcohol courses through your veins, emboldening your desires, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to ask him what has been in your mind for quite a long time, and so you ask "If I were to ask for a kiss, would you kiss me? Right here, right now?"

The intensity in his gaze heightens, his pupils dilating as his demeanor shifts, becoming more serious. "Ask me," he demands, his jaw clenched with anticipation. His eyes linger on your lips before locking onto yours, a silent plea echoing within them.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you turn away, feeling a rush of emotions flooding your senses. With a deep breath, you struggle to compose yourself, but before you can respond, he chuckles softly. "I knew you didn't have the nerve," he remarks, his tone teasing yet tinged with disappointment. Meeting his gaze once more, you're taken aback by his confidence. As he straightens himself and takes a sip of his drink, his words hang heavily in the air. "I don't know how much longer I can wait for you," he confesses, his voice low and filled with longing, "but if you were to ask me to fuck you right here, right now, I wouldn't even think once." With that declaration, practically deadpanned on your face, he goes inside the flat, leaving you to grapple with your miserable self.

~~~

The night after that seemed to stretch endlessly, a void you couldn't escape. Frustration and regret gnawed at your mind, You turned to more alcohol, a fleeting attempt to numb the pain within, but it only amplified the train of thoughts swirling in your head.

As you sat alone on the balcony, the chilly night air enveloped you, matching the coldness you felt inside. Time lost its meaning, slipping through your fingers as you drowned in a sea of overthinking. Every possible scenario played out in your mind like a relentless storm, each outcome more daunting than the last. What could have happened if you could have just said.

Johnny appears through the doorframe. His presence was unexpected, you thought he was mad yet oddly comforting, a reminder that you weren't completely alone in this chaotic night. "Will you spend the whole night here?" he asked, concern etched in his voice. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to fully grasp his words.

Refusing to retreat from your self-imposed exile, you remained rooted to the spot, the numbness spreading through your limbs. Yet Johnny persisted, his care evident as he gently coaxed you back inside. "It's cold. Come inside, everybody left already," he urged, worry evident in his eyes.

Too weary to resist, you allowed him to guide you indoors, his touch grounding you in reality. As he settled you into his bed, a wave of familiarity washed over you, a stark reminder of the times you'd been here before, always on the edge of leaving. You had been here countless times, yet never truly stayed. But tonight was different. Tonight, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to leave, surrendering to the comfort of his presence, if only for a fleeting moment.

As he guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, you instinctively reached out, clinging to his shirt. "Kiss me," you implored, your gaze locking with his warm brown eyes, overflowing with affection.

His response came with a gentle sigh, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "You're drunk," he stated softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I am, but I can still make sense of it all," you insisted, determination shining through the haze of intoxication.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?" Johnny reassured, his face drawing closer to yours.

"Please," you exhaled, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your confession pressing down on you. "I know I'm the worst person alive right now but I- I'm just afraid. Please understand. I want you, I do, but it's so scary."

"Shh, it's okay, I know," he murmured, his words a soothing balm to your troubled soul. "I know you're trying."

Foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingled, each exhalation a testament to the vulnerability you shared in that moment. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the weight of your guilt heavy on your heart.

"You don't have to be," he replied, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture of forgiveness. "Look at me."

As you met his gaze once more, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "Relax, okay? I'm happy that you opened up about it."

"I'm sorry," you repeated, the words a mantra of remorse.He shook his head gently, his touch comforting. "Let's try sleeping now, shall we? Don't think about it." With his reassurance enveloping you like a warm blanket, you allowed yourself to drift into the embrace of sleep, for the first time with him.

As consciousness reluctantly seeped into your foggy mind, a wave of discomfort washed over you, fueled by the repercussions of last night's poor choices. The harsh glare of morning light pierced through your eyelids, adding to the throbbing ache behind your temples.

Attempting to remove yourself from the confines of the bed proved to be a tough task, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and your head swimming with dizziness. Searching for Johnny's presence beside you, you found only an empty space, adding to the disorientation.

Succumbing to defeat, you surrendered to the comfy embrace of the mattress, sinking into its softness as you lay there, gazing blankly at the ceiling above. Dehydration gnawed at your parched throat. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, the world around you faded into a haze of half-formed thoughts and fleeting sensations. The rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan above served as a lullaby.

In the midst of this surreal feeling, fragments of memories from the night before flickered like distant stars in the night sky. Realization and what-ifs danced at the edges of your mind, their haunting presence a constant reminder of the consequences of your actions.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there lingered a glimmer of hope, a faint whisper of possibility that perhaps, despite the mistakes of the past, redemption was still within reach. You clung to this fragile thread of optimism, a lifeline in the midst of the storm.

Minutes stretched into hours, the passage of time marked only by the shifting patterns of sunlight filtering through the curtains. And then, as if on cue, the sound of footsteps drew near, with a weary sigh, you opened your eyes to find Johnny standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, you nodded sleepily.

As you reluctantly stirred from your sleep, you felt the duvet being tugged away, prompting a sleepy protest. "Erugh, let me sleep," you mumbled, trying to shield yourself from the intruding light.

But his teasing remark about your state of dress snapped you awake, and you jolted up, "You're completely naked," only to realize you were already covered. He pointed out with a playful grin, causing you to blush and scramble for cover.

However, your movements triggered a sharp pain in your head, and you winced, instinctively reaching to soothe it. Before you could fully register the discomfort, another hand joined yours, gently stroking your head. Slowly opening your eyes, you found him sitting close, his concern evident in his gaze.

"Who told you to drink that much? You puked two times," he said softly, his tone filled with worry and care. Giving in to his touch, you leaned into him, finding solace in his presence amidst the pain.

"I... may have overdone it a bit," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for his concern. He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to massage your head as you relaxed against him.

"It's okay. Just drink some water and take it easy," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. With a nod, you reached for the glass he held out to you

He's far too good for you. A voice at the back of your head screams at you.

"Johnny..." you say, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room. His presence alone was enough to make your heart race, but you needed to speak your mind.

He turns to you, his gaze softening as he listens intently. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his words.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I've been thinking about..." you trail off, unsure of how to articulate the right words.

Johnny reaches out, his hand placing a strand of hair behind your ear,offering silent support. "Go on," he encourages gently.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words heavy with regret. "I know this is complicated, and i am making it even more complicated but I just don't want to hurt you." You could barely manage to say even that.

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trail through the loops of your hair, sending shivers down your spine. His hum reverberates through you, a sensual melody that ignites a fire deep within. But then, in an instant, his demeanor shifts, catching you off guard.

His hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back with a swift, yet gentle force. The sudden change in his touch sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses to the electrifying proximity between you.

Your eyes meet his, dark and intense, and you find yourself unable to look away. His breath, warm and fruity, fans over your face, stirring something primal within you. In that moment, you're acutely aware of every sensation, every heartbeat, as you surrender to the magnetic pull of desire that envelops you both.

"Can't you see what you do to me?"

Johnny..." you say, your voice barely above a whisper, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.

He pauses, his eyes locked with yours, waiting for you to continue.

"I... I didn't mean..." you stutter, struggling to find the right words as his grip on your hair loosens.

He chuckles softly, his laughter dancing in the air, easing some of the tension between you. "I know, I know," he reassures you, his tone gentle yet teasing.

"But..." you start, only to be cut off by his next words.

"You talk a lot when you're drunk," he says with a smirk, his fingers tracing light patterns along your skin.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing he's right.

"What did I say?" you ask, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before.

His gaze softens, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "That you tend to get... aroused whenever I say your name," he says, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

You shake your head in denial, but deep down, you know he's right.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, sending tingles of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Johnny..." you breathe out his name, a mixture of desire and uncertainty swirling in your mind as he hovers above you, his presence consuming your senses.

"Say it," he urges, his voice low and demanding, sending a thrill through your body.

"Johnny, listen to m—" you begin, but he cuts you off with a firm command.

"Say it!" he insists, his intensity leaving no room for argument.

"I want you, for fuck's sake, I want you," you finally admit, your voice tinged with both desire and vulnerability.

Closing your eyes, you release the grip you've been holding onto, allowing yourself to surrender to the overwhelming attraction between you.

You lay back, flattening against the bed, pushing your hair away from your face to meet his gaze head-on. His eyes, dark and intense, never waver from yours, sending a flutter of nerves through your stomach.

"I want you, in every way possible, and it's no secret. I'm just afraid," you confess in a small voice, baring your soul to him.

Johnny's smile is reassuring, his touch gentle as he lays on top of you, ensuring he doesn't overwhelm you with his weight. "Don't be afraid," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "You'll love me just fine."

In that moment, as you lay entwined with him, all your fears melt away, replaced by a sense of warmth and comfort in his embrace. You know that no matter what lies ahead, you're ready to explore this newfound connection with him by your side.

As Johnny hovers above you, his gaze dark with desire, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. His lips brush against yours in a teasing caress, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce between you.

"I've been waiting for this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with need as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an expert touch that leaves you trembling with desire.

"God, you're so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against the skin of your neck as he takes you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

With each touch, each caress, the tension between you dissolves, replaced by an electric current of desire that pulses through your veins. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and contour with a reverence that leaves you breathless.

You arch into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as he explores every inch of your skin with a delicate touch that sets your senses ablaze. His fingers trace patterns along your spine, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

Your lips collided with his in a heated embrace, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through both of your bodies. Crashing into each other, feelings of desire over powering you both. In that moment you knew, it was gonna be a hell of a ride and you couldn't be any more excited than you are right now.

After the kiss, you both laid side by side, "By the way you didn't really say any of that." Johnny gently whispers in your ear, and you both end up laughing, cuddling.

~~~

You like it?" Johnny asks, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he watches you take a lick of the ice cream. You nod enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across your face like a child on Christmas morning. His smile widens in response, a soft glow of happiness emanating from him. It's moments like these that make everything feel so right.

Since that unforgettable day when you poured your heart out to him, your life has been like a dream come true. Flowers, date nights, chocolates – you name it, he's made sure to fill your days with joy and love. From cozy movie nights to endless cuddles, it's like you've found the missing piece to your puzzle.

But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Like any couple, you have your disagreements. Yet, what sets you apart is the unwavering understanding and support you both offer each other. Johnny never lets you go to bed upset, always there with reassurance and kisses to mend any hurt feelings.

He constantly reminds you that you're doing just fine, and it's true. It's not just about healing from past wounds; it's about the beautiful exchange of giving and receiving love. It's about reciprocating the care and affection you both share, knowing that the more you give, the more you receive.

In a world where it's easy to become complacent, you both choose to love each other every single day. And that, in itself, is the greatest gift of all.

You plead with puppy dog eyes, urging him to let you indulge in more ice cream because, well, why not? 'Pleeease let me have another scoop!' you whine, the anticipation of the creamy goodness making your mouth water. But alas, he declines with a chuckle, warning, 'No way! You'll catch a cold!' You pout, but secretly admire his concern."

Disappointed but not defeated, you pout and playfully stick out your bottom lip, giving Johnny your best puppy-dog eyes. "But Johnny," you protest, "I promise I'll bundle up extra warm tonight! Pretty please?"

Johnny can't help but laugh at your antics, finding your determination to get that extra scoop of ice cream utterly endearing. He shakes his head, still chuckling, and gently takes your hand in his. "As much as I love seeing that adorable pout of yours, I can't risk you getting sick, [Reader]. How about we save the ice cream for tomorrow, hmm?"

You sigh dramatically, but a mischievous glint dances in your eyes as you lean in closer to him. "Fine," you concede, "but only if you promise to share a warm blanket and snuggle with me tonight."

A grin spreads across Johnny's face as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Deal," he agrees, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Anything for you, my love."

As you both leave the ice cream parlor, the cool evening air wraps around you, the gentle breeze a welcome contrast to the warmth of your intertwined hands. As you both step into the cozy cafe, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, bringing back memories of the first time you met. Johnny's hand tightens around yours, his touch sending a thrill through you that's impossible to ignore.

You find a secluded booth in the corner, and as you settle in, Johnny's eyes lock with yours, a silent invitation sparking between you. "You know," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It feels like just yesterday that we were sitting here, nervously sipping our coffees," you reply, your voice filled with affection.

Johnny leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But this time," he whispers, "we don't have to be nervous." A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you meet his gaze with a newfound sense of boldness. "No, this time," you say, your voice steady and sure, "we can just be us."

With a gentle touch, Johnny cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. "I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, the world around you fading away as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment. It's a dance of tongues and teeth, of whispered words and soft sighs, each touch igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second.

As you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Johnny's eyes meet yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. "I never want to stop kissing you," he confesses, his voice thick with desire.

A smile tugs at your lips as you lean in to press another kiss to his, the promise of countless more moments like this hanging in the air between you.

~~~

As you sit at your desk, textbooks spread out before you and notes scattered across the surface, you're fully immersed in your study session. The material is dense, and you're determined to grasp every concept before the upcoming exam.

Just as you're deep in concentration, Johnny enters the room with a mischievous grin, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you buried in your books. Without a word, he crosses the room and leans against your desk, his presence a distraction you can't ignore.

"Hey there, studious one," he says, his voice low and playful. "Need a break?"

You look up from your books, torn between the desire to keep studying and the temptation of Johnny's irresistible charm. "I really should finish this chapter," you reply, trying to sound firm despite the flutter in your stomach at his proximity.

But Johnny has other plans. With a swift movement, he slides your textbooks aside and pulls you to your feet, his hands finding their way to your waist as he draws you close. "I think you've earned a reward for all that hard work," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Before you can protest, Johnny's mouth descends on yours in a fiery kiss, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips before delving deeper, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all thoughts of studying as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you and the intoxicating rush of desire.

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass in a blur of tangled limbs and heated kisses, until finally, you break apart, breathless and flushed, the taste of Johnny still lingering on your lips. "Now that's what I call a study break," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You can't help but laugh, the tension of the study session now a distant memory as you bask in the warmth of Johnny's love and the thrill of his touch.

~~~

As you made your way back from college, the skies darkened, and before you knew it, a heavy downpour unleashed its fury upon you. The rain hammered down relentlessly, soaking you up and down. Despite the continuous ringing of your phone from within your backpack, the rain made it impossible to retrieve. With no umbrella in hand, you quickened your pace towards the bus stop, only to witness the last bus pulling away just as you rounded the corner. Desperation set in as you attempted to sprint after it, but the distance between you and the departing vehicle only widened. Defeated, you exhaled heavily, feeling the chill of the rain seeping into your bones. Seeking refuge at the bus stop, you huddled under its shelter, which wasn't helping much.

As you stood there, shivering and dripping, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease creeping over you. The relentless rain seemed to whisper secrets in the wind. With each passing moment, your mind raced with thoughts of your worried boyfriend waiting at home, unaware of your predicament.

As you glanced down at your phone, the screen illuminated with missed calls and frantic messages from him. Frustration bubbled within you, knowing that you were only adding to his worry by being stranded in the storm. You tried to call him back, but the signal was weak, and the connection kept cutting out. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited for the next bus, the minutes ticking by like hours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the bus appeared on the horizon, its headlights piercing through the darkness like a beacon of hope. With a sigh of relief, you boarded the bus, grateful for the warmth and safety it offered. And soon you were standing in front of his appointment door.

As the bus finally pulled up to a stop, you hurriedly disembarked, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and relief. You practically sprinted the rest of the way home, the rain still coming down in sheets, soaking you to the bone.

Finally, you arrived at the doorstep of your apartment, soaked and shivering. With trembling hands, you fumbled for your keys, desperate to be inside the safety of your home. But before you could even insert the key into the lock, the door swung open, revealing a worried and furious Johnny.

"Where have you been?!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with anger and concern. "I've been trying to call you for hours! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"I-I'm so sorry, Johnny," you stammered, tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. "I got caught in the storm, and I missed the bus, and...and I couldn't get through to you. I'm so sorry."

Johnny's expression softened as he took in your trembling form, his anger melting away in an instant. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm just glad you're safe," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I was so worried about you. Let's get you inside and warm you up, okay?"

You nod, feeling the weight of your backpack against the wall as you follow Johnny into the bedroom. With a quick movement, you pull your hair up, hoping to keep it from sticking to your clothes. Sensing his hands on your torso, you inhale sharply as they glide around to the front, undoing the button of your jeans. Anticipation mounts as he pulls them down, and then he sits, planting kisses on your damp thigh, eliciting a dissatisfied moan from you.

In a swift motion, your undies join the jeans on the floor. "Nice butt," he remarks, drawing a rhetorical look from you. Stepping closer, he removes the t-shirt clinging uncomfortably to your skin, and with it, your bra disappears too. "Beautiful as always," he murmurs, enveloping you in a warm towel and pulling you close, his lips finding your neck, leaving their mark.

"Johnny," you sigh as his hands slip under the towel, teasingly moving between your legs, knowing just where to stop, leaving you breathless. "I'll be right back, change into dry clothes, okay?" he says, his voice a tantalizing promise hanging in the air.

He returned with a steaming mug of tea, fragrant steam curling upwards in the air. He handed it to you with a tender smile, the warmth of the mug seeping into your chilled fingers.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his voice soothing.. "It'll help warm you up."

"I only need you to warm me up."

"Come here then." He motions you to sit with him in the bed he made, warm and cozy. As you lay there in Johnny's arms, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you like a warm embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you.

"Johnny," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I'm so sorry for worrying you. I never meant to cause you so much distress."

Johnny's arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer to him as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered back, his voice filled with reassurance. "I was just so scared when I couldn't reach you. All I could think about was making sure you were safe."

You buried your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. "I promise I'll be more careful from now on," you vowed, your words muffled against his skin. "I never want to put you through that kind of worry again."

Johnny tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. "I know you will," he said softly, his thumb brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Johnny's fingers danced along the buttons of your blouse, a spark of desire ignited between you, fueling the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

"How about we finish what we started earlier?"

Your heart raced at his words, the anticipation building with every breath. With a smile, you nodded in agreement, your own desire mirrored in your eyes as you leaned in to meet his lips in a fiery kiss.

The heat between you intensified quickly, passion igniting like a wildfire as your bodies melded together in a tangle of desire. Teeth clashed against each other, tongues danced in a feverish rhythm, and hands roamed eagerly, seeking out every inch of skin they could find.

With a swift movement, you straddled Johnny, taking control of the moment as you traced a path of kisses down his neck, relishing in the soft gasps and low growls that escaped his lips. As his shirt fell away, revealing his beautifully toned body beneath, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you, feeling a surge of desire coursing through your veins.

Too shy to say anything, you let your actions speak for you. Lingering on his nipples, you teased and tantalized, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from Johnny's lips. With each flick of your tongue and gentle nip of your teeth, the tension between you grew, pushing you both closer and closer to the edge of desire.

But you weren't done yet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you continued your exploration, trailing kisses and caresses down Johnny's torso until you reached the waistband of his jeans. With practiced hands, you teased and toyed with him through the fabric, making him harder with every stroke, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath your touch.

As his pleasured groans filled the air, you couldn't resist escalating your actions, eagerly sliding his pants down while he sat up, fixated on your every move. Locking eyes with him, you took him into your mouth, teasingly tracing the tip with your tongue, prompting a soft curse from his lips. Pulling back, you continued to lavish attention on him, savoring every moment as you licked his length, stealing glances up at him. "Enjoying yourself?" you teased, to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod.

Returning to him, you gradually took more of him into your mouth, relishing in the way his hands urged you on, guiding you further down. He pulled you up for a heated kiss, expressing his desire to explore your taste. As his lips trailed down your neck, he urged you to sit on his face, igniting nerves and excitement within you. With his encouragement, you straddled his eager mouth, blushing at his sweet words as his lips planted kisses on your thighs.

Feeling his hands on your hips, he drew you closer, his tongue eagerly finding your clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. As his hands explored your body, adding to your arousal, you couldn't help but cry out in bliss as he skillfully pleasured you,

As your pleasure surged, you couldn't contain your cries, feeling the intensity of his actions. "Oh, fuck," escaped your lips as he intensified his efforts, his mouth and tongue working fervently on your clit. His suction grew stronger, his tongue moving with increasing speed, drawing out guttural moans from you. "Oh my god," you exclaimed as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, "fuck," you moaned as he persisted in his ministrations.

His hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, he delved deeper into your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Oh god, don't stop," you gasped, your breath ragged as you requested his fingers. With a calm demeanor, he complied, easing his fingers into you, eliciting a blissful moan from your lips. As he continued to pleasure you, his fingers moving rhythmically inside you, your cries of ecstasy filled the room.

"Oh my god," you moaned aloud as he momentarily paused, only to reposition himself behind you. Bending you slightly, he inserted two fingers, drawing out a soft, pleasurable moan from you. With relentless determination, he showed no mercy, driving you towards another peak of pleasure. The sound of slick noises filled the air as his fingers worked expertly within you, pushing your head gently into the headboard to ensure your stability as you surrendered to his touch.

As his hand pressed you down onto his fingers, a fervent moan escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming you. "Oh my god," you cried out as he intensified his movements, driving you wild with desire. With increasing speed and force, his fingers plunged into you, eliciting a chorus of ecstatic moans from your lips.

Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, his command clear. "Turn around," he instructed, guiding you gently as you complied, meeting his intense gaze. Enveloped in his embrace, you shared a deep, passionate kiss, his desire evident in his words as he broke the connection. "I want to fuck you," he declared, and you eagerly nodded in agreement, urgency coursing through your veins.

Pushed onto the bed, your legs spread wide, you watched as he knelt between them, his eyes fixated on your dripping arousal. His finger traced circles on your swollen clit, then slipped inside you, claiming you as his own. "Mine," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from yours, and you nodded in submission, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours," you affirmed, anticipation building in the air.

With a hungry look, he licked his lips before slowly entering you with his cock, causing you to gasp in ecstasy. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he began to move within you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the brink of pleasure.

As he increased the pace, driving into you with fervent desire, your cries of ecstasy filled the room. "Oh my god," you moaned loudly as he relentlessly fucked you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, his declaration of love mingling with the sounds of your pleasure. "I love you," he murmured against your lips, his words igniting a fire within you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you reciprocated his declaration, your voice filled with desire. "I love you too," you confessed as he continued to ravish you with his relentless thrusts. With a swift motion, he withdrew from you, flipping you onto your stomach. "Get on all fours," he commanded, assisting you into position.

Meeting his gaze over your shoulder, you were met with a declaration of your beauty, sending shivers down your spine. As he entered you from behind, a rush of anticipation flooded your senses. His movements became more intense, driving into you harder and faster, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips. "Oh my god," you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

Feeling his hand reach around to play with your clit, a surge of pleasure washed over you, intensifying the pleasure building within. "Oh my god," you moaned again, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. With each deep thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body aching for release.

As he took control, holding both your hands behind your back, you surrendered to him completely. Your petite frame under his dominance, your face buried into the sheets muffling the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. Sensing his impending release, you knew you were on the brink of ecstasy.

With a few final, deep thrusts, you both succumbed to the ecstasy, waves of pleasure washing over you in a euphoric crescendo. As he pulled out, licking you clean, you whimpered from the overstimulation, your body trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

a sense of blissful exhaustion washed over you both. Lying tangled together under the sheet, hearts racing and skin still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking. As you caught your breath, he peppered soft kisses along your neck and shoulders, his touch gentle and tender. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration as he caressed your cheek. You smiled up at him. In his arms, you feel safe and cherished, the weight of the world melting away as sleep begins to claim you. Drifting off with the rhythmic beat of his heart as your lullaby, you rest easy knowing that you are safe. And you finally know, what love actually feels like

~~~

hope you liked it. umh? idk tried, if you want to request anything, please do. (it'll take forever but ill respond)

please check out other works m.list

and enjoy, have a good day, night~

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writingforstraykids · 8 months ago

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Idk if anyone requested that before but soft thoughts on Seungmin?

Thank you @skzoologist @atinyniki and @kailee08 for your ideas, I got a little lost here😢😂

Seungmin loves calling you silly names and making fun of you without crossing any of your boundaries, of course. Wherever the two of you are, playful bickering can be heard, and Minho once told you Seungmin became an even bigger menace than before. He's been very careful around you in the beginning, knowing some people simply don't get it's part of his love language. Hurting you would be the last thing he wants to do. So when you first teased right back, making fun of him in return his heart stopped for a second before the brightest smile spread all over his face.

He enjoys pretending to hate your loving hugs, soft touches, or your perfect skin against his. In reality, which you both know damn well, his heart skips, and his brain needs a moment to restart whenever your sweet touch graces him. Especially whenever you start pouting at him, pretending for too long, he can't deny the effect you have on him, gently intertwining your fingers and kissing your temple in a reassuring manner.

If you ask him for literally anything, he'll be the first to throw his biggest pout your way. He whines so loudly it makes everyone's head turn whenever you're at the dorms. Your beloved Minnie can't resist you for long, though, and will get you whatever you want. He comes back with a bag of your favorite takeout, shoving it into your hand and again, pouting at you. Whenever you dare to call him out on this little habit of his, it'll only get worse, and he'll pretend to sulk for another bit.

Seungmin hates public displays of affection. It feels awkward and he doesn't want others to see how you two share the love between you. He can't fight feeling all fuzzy and happy though whenever you do something small. If your fingers brush against his, you'll kiss his cheek or wrap your arms around him his heart melts and he has trouble stopping himself from blushing.

You're in love with his voice and you never fail to tell him that. So once he got comfortable enough he started singing you to sleep almost every night. Sometimes when he's away, he makes time to call you and sing you to sleep nevertheless. He loves seeing you drift off slowly and relaxing to the sound of his angelic singing voice.

At first Seungmin isn't that great with openly telling you how much he truly loves you and how much you mean to him. So whenever he's sure you're asleep, he watches your peaceful form curled up in his arms and starts talking. He tells you the cheesiest shit right there, dedicating his life to you and pouring out every bit of love he has. It takes him a long time to say some of those things to your face but the way your eyes light up make it worth it.

Minnie made you a playlist to listen to whenever he's away, so you won't forget him. He's more than surprised when one day you send him a link to a playlist you made for him in return. He hasn't spend a trip away from you without it from that day on.

He always makes sure you're eating enough and feeding you snacks is one of his favorite tasks. Sometimes he's taking them between his teeth and teases you just to get a kiss. He loves kissing you so much, he can't help himself sometimes.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@mal-lunar-28 @galaxycatdrawz @lilmisssona @silverstarburst @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits @mellhwang @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @palindrome969

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chronologicalerrors · 1 year ago

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Why Crowley Was an Archangel, And Why it Matters: A Fan Theory

Neil Gaiman has said that Season 2 is a bridging season, setting up what is to come in Season 3, which will be based on a story he and Pratchett outlined many years ago. This season is therefore moving characters into place and establishing facts and mechanics of the Good Omens universe that we need as an audience in order to understand what comes next. It moved Aziraphale back to Heaven, and removed Gabriel and Beelzebub. This season has also been heavy on the references to Crowley’s past as an angel.

Season 2 of Good Omens has been practically inviting us to speculate on who Crowley used to be. If we’d just been given that one glimpse of him in the first scene I wouldn’t make so much of it, but we also saw him return to heaven in disguise and reject an offer of being returned to full angelic status. We have to conclude that there’s been so many sustained hints at this because it will be important next season!

Some of this has already been suggested by others, but GO2 has taken over my brain and I need to write this all out. So, let’s have a look at what we already know about Crowley’s angelic past in-universe, and what else we might be able to guess at from that.

What’s special about Crowley’s powers?

Crowley is the only demon or angel who is shown being able to stop time. When asked about this Pre-S2, Neil Gaiman said the following:

We first see him do this in Paris in 1793, and the second time to speak to Adam to avert the apocalypse at the end of S1. The first time was something he did casually, while the second required a huge burst of power – it needed to hold off Satan, after all - and happened at Aziraphale’s urging.

A: Come up with something or… or I'll never talk to you again.

(GIF from fyeahgoodomens. There’s a collection of gifs of Crowley stopping time through S1 here.)

When we see him stop time this season, in Edinburgh in 1827, it’s also directly at Aziraphale’s request:

This bit is absolutely key to me, as this establishes that stopping time is something Crowley can do that Aziraphale cannot.

This also seems tied to the crank handle of his Bentley. When Crowley has stopped time to hold off Satan, he is gripping the handle in the same way Aziraphale carried his flaming sword, and spins in when he comes to restart time.

C: I'm going to start time. You won't have long to do whatever you're going to do.

By itself, this doesn’t mean anything. Until we see the same handle at the start of Season 2, in the hands of Angel Crowley. He uses this to start up his nebula, as a tool for setting time into motion.

Is this the same handle? It certainly appears this way. Like Aziraphale’s flaming sword, was this a gift from God that he’s managed to hang on to for thousands of years (And it just miraculously happens to fit his Bentley)? It certainly seems that the Bentley crankshaft handle is more than it seems, and that Crowley can use it as a conduit for power – as he needed to when stopping time to hold off the ruler of Hell himself.

The link between this object, a relic from his time in heaven, and his rather unique ability to stop time, suggests that Crowley was once an angel of great power.

What rank did he hold?

We saw Crowley return to Heaven, in disguise, in S2 E6, with events hinting that he was once a very high-ranking angel:

So, we know for a fact he was above the level of Thrones and Dominions. So where does this place him on Heaven’s organisational chart? My analysis here is metatextual – I don’t think looking at external hierarchies of angels is that helpful to understanding the Good Omens universe, so I will only focus on what Neil Gaiman has confirmed when asked, or has been demonstrated within the world of the show itself.

Good Omens has its own Hierarchy of Heaven, but Neil Gaiman has clarified that the Archangels we see are amongst the most senior personnel in Heaven. This runs counter to many hierarchies of angels (which are often contradictory in and of themselves) but is consistent with the depiction in John Milton’s Paradise Lost as well as Jewish tradition, where the highest ranking Archangels are given the title of “princes” of heaven. “Prince of Heaven” is also a term that Metatron applies to Gabriel in S2 E6.

Of the heavenly entities mentioned in the show, we can infer the following angelic hierarchy:

God

Metatron (NG confirms here)

Supreme Archangel (Gabriel, now Aziraphale)

Other Archangels (Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, in that order – See NG here)

Cherubim (Aziraphale at the Garden of Eden, when he was the Angel of the Eastern Gate –NG Confirms here)

Thrones & Dominions

Principalities(?) (Aziraphale after the Garden of Eden – NG doesn’t state if this is a promotion or demotion, but it feels very demotion-y)

Other lower-ranking angels (As a Principality, Aziraphale was supposed to lead a platoon of angels into battle in S1 – so there must be many levels below him – see NG here)

Scrivners (Muriel and the level Gabriel would have been demoted to. Appears to be the lowest rank in Heaven, suggested by NG here)

There are likely many other levels in-between these that have not yet been mentioned onscreen. Saraqael, for example, seems lower down than an Archangel (addressing Michel and Uriel as “your beatitudes” before approaching them in Episode 1), but above Aziraphale. You’ll notice Seraphim aren’t in this list, because they’ve not been mentioned on screen – but I suspect they do exist in this universe and are a class below Archangels but above Cherubim.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Crowley was an Archangel, but confirms pretty explicitly that he was once near the top.

So who was he?

Neil Gaiman has stated that his name when he was an angel was not Crowley/Crawley, and the first scene of Season 2 sees a bit of redirection when Aziraphale tries to get angel-Crowley’s name:

This is quite deliberate, and sets up his name as something important to be revealed later. However, I can’t see why his name would matter to the narrative, unless it’s something recognisable from biblical canon – or, that it’s not necessarily his name, but his rank as an angel that was important.

There are numerous pointed references throughout Season 2 to Archangels, in such a way that feels like the show is setting up for this to be revealed in the future. The misdirection about Angel-Crowley’s name may have been because Aziraphale was likely to have recognised the name of an Archangel.

More than this, I personally do think, that before his fall Crowley wasn’t just any old Archangel, but the Supreme Archangel. This is based on the following 7 points (you know God likes sevens):

The very deliberate way the camera pans to Crowley’s impassive face after Gabriel says “I’m the only first-order Archangel in the room or, you know, the universe.”

2. Metatron’s statement, “For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem.”

While it’s quite clear that we’re supposed to associate this line with Lucifer himself (and yes, I know NG confirms that's who this was alluding to!), it’s interesting that ‘Prince of Heaven’ is a title associated with Archangels in Jewish tradition and very specifically with Gabriel on screen in the universe of the series. That Jimbriel also repeats this line to Crowley in the bookshop specifically feels significant...

3. Crowley also recognises Metatron in the bookshop, where no other Archangel does. Metatron deliberately avoids using his name in this scene, calling him ‘demon’. Which is not inaccurate, but may suggest the Metatron remembers Crowley’s angelic name. It may also explain Metatron’s very dark look at Crowley as he exited the shop – the two of them have some history.

4. It’s never stated explicitly that Gabriel hasn’t always been the Supreme Archangel since the beginning, but there’s enough vagueness in the text to guess at this. When Michael and Uriel are discussing what to do in Gabriel’s absence, Michael and Uriel have this exchange:

M:There is, of course, no question of replacing the supreme archangel. I am the Archangel Michael, you are the Archangel Uriel. U: We aren't in charge. Right now, as of this moment, Heaven does not have a supreme archangel. M: There is always a supreme archangel.

“There is always a Supreme Archangel!” not “Gabriel has always been the Supreme Archangel!” According to some traditions, the Supreme Archangel was the first angel ever created, which would support Michael’s statement: There is always, and there always has been, a Supreme Archangel, since the time of creation. It’s possible that someone else held this role pre-Fall, and Gabriel was appointed as successor after the War in Heaven.

5. The way the other Archangels behave around him. There’s a wariness, but also a strange deference. On being discovered by Saraqael in heaven, they don’t immediately throw him out, but let him watch Gabriel’s trial – even ordering Muriel to show him it. Michael and Uriel then follow him back to Earth without much fuss, giving him quite a look, while Crowley seems to be enjoying himself:

(This also feeds into why I think Crowley looked so different during the Job segment. He knew he might encounter a few Archangels he’s not seen for a thousand years or so, and so appears in disguise.) 6. The lightening! I’ve seen someone point out that Crowley’s electric temper tantrum in S2E1 mirrors the lightening used by Gabriel to travel to Earth in S1E6. This could be a coincidence of VFX, or it could be a Clue.

7. That last conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley:

A: I don't think you understand what I'm offering you. C: I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.

That’s such a weighted statement, and could be interpreted in so many ways. But, viewed in this light, it sounds like a warning from a former angel who used to be very high up in Heaven indeed – and has absolutely no desire to return there.

Why does any of this matter?

Obviously just theorising here…

The story is setting us up for a reveal here – Crowley’s status as an angel, and who he was before the Fall is clearly going to factor into Season 3 in some way. Why tease us with it so much and so often if it’s not important?

In terms of the narrative, a powerful revelation would be that Crowley used to have Aziraphale’s new job. That it led him to asking questions about the Almighty’s plan and then, ultimately, falling. And that the Supreme Archangel, for one reason for another, eventually turns against Heaven – it happened to Crowley, to Gabriel (after a few thousand years), and then will have to happen to Aziraphale too.

I could be way off here, but at some point the show needs to explain why Crowley is so different from other demons and has powers that no other demon or angel seems to possess. A reveal that he was once very, very senior in the organisation of Heaven, before asking too many questions and being cast out, would serve as a explanation and be a meaningful development to the narrative of Season 3.

I don’t think we’ll necessarily get a name (because we don’t need one) – but I do think we will get a rank or some idea about who he used to be, and that’s what’s going to be significant. TLDR: Supreme Archangel Crowley!?

#good omens theories #good omens theory #good omens season 2 #crowley #archangel crowley #go2 #good omens spoilers

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