#at this point i wear myself like a bad omen

[sadkidwarexpert]

future husband's gonna have to tolerate my death wish jokes and morbid humor otherwise we won't be able to work.

[patronsaintofelsewhere]

Thoughts on Angel Crowley & Healing from Trauma

(Minor Good Omens S2 Spoilers)

As someone who’s endured my own Trauma and dealt with the resulting PTSD, watching Crowley’s journey from a joyful, silly, and entirely innocent angel to a withdrawn, lonely, hyper-vigilant demon as a result of the Fall both shattered my heart and confronted me with the fact of myself, and I’d like to talk about it. 

When you* experience Trauma, you experience an existential disorientation and a profound sense of grief over the world you thought you knew–one where you were safe and nothing bad had ever happened to you. “Innocence died screaming,” and all that.

You're also therefore mourning the loss of who you were, and struggling to make sense of who you are now. Which is why this conversation is so gut-wrenching:

“I know you.” “You do not know me.” “I knew the angel you were.” “The angel you knew is not me.” 

This dialogue admittedly still makes my eyes swim. It’s reminiscent of the many conversations I’ve had with people close to me who knew me Before and After. Not only are you grieving the loss of your own innocence, so are those around you, and it feels like you’re wearing their loved one’s face like a mask.

And then underneath the grief, there’s a river of–what you’ll later discover is misplaced–guilt. They want you to be who you were. Fuck, you also want to be who you were -- to not have experienced what you did -- but you can’t.

And when they catch a glimpse of something that reminds them of Before-You -- because it's not like that you has just up and vanished, you've just changed -- they say things like, “I feel like I have you back!” Like the After-You is a consolation prize, something to be tolerated while they wait for the Before-You to return.

It’s not malicious. They love you. They want you to be happy. But it just serves as a reminder of your loss and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how alone you are with the Thing that hurt you.

After trauma, you’re lonely and you're afraid. But those emotions make you feel quite naked, because both of those things would require you to depend on other people to feel better and, at this point, the thought of doing that is far too scary, so to the world, you’re angry. Thus begins the cyclical self-fulfilling prophecy.

And that cycle goes a bit like this: People see the mistrust and the bitterness and the volatility (the shield that keeps people at an arm's length and helps you feel safe). They don't see the profound sustained fear underneath, the desperate need to feel seen and accepted. And so people pull away.

And that real or perceived abandonment feeds the monster that’s taken up permanent residence in your ribcage and screams at all hours that you’re not worthy of love, that you’re irreparably broken, and you’ll always be alone. And you pull away from the people that love you. And the cycle repeats. And you start to believe all of the bad things about yourself that the monster tells you.

Being confronted with a character who you adore and who you also relate to closely is bittersweet in that it’s both immensely painful, but also offers you an opportunity to interrupt that cycle, to explore a different -- perhaps more forgiving -- lens through which to view yourself. To practice self-compassion by proxy, if you will. After all, we tend to extend far greater empathy and forgiveness to others than we do to ourselves.

Angel Crowley, "who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty,” (joycrispy) reminded me a lot of “Angel T,” or rather myself before Trauma.

And Crowley's story is tragic. I was heartbroken and angry for him; I felt the depth of the betrayal he experienced at the hands of someone he loved who he'd believed loved him; I found myself wanting to protect him, to comfort him. Crowley did not deserve what happened to him.

And, over a decade later, I realized that I’d finally accepted that I’d been an innocent, just like Crowley had, and I didn't deserve what happened to me, either.

And -- if you find yourself relating to this post -- neither did you.

Once we can tell ourselves that and actually believe it, we can start to lower the shield. We can allow people closer, including ourselves. We can bring the parts of ourselves we may have hidden away back to the surface. We can soften again. We can truly start to heal.

Crowley, at his core, remains the same. He is still kind, deeply loving, playful, silly, and – against all odds – hopeful. But his trauma has changed him; his innocence is gone.

He struggles to trust others; fears abandonment; engages in unhealthy coping mechanisms; finds it easier to prioritize and tend to Aziraphale's needs and desires than his own; and has difficulty expressing his emotions.

But he also gained an abundance of empathy, a deep love for humanity, and a strong sense of justice.

We adore Crowley exactly as he is now; we don't wish for him to be who he was before the Fall. And neither does Aziraphale.

In kind, we won’t be who we were — nor should we try to be — but we can be something new, a different version of ourselves that is equally good, equally worthy, and equally deserving of love. 

After over a decade, I think my Trauma wound has mostly healed, as much as Trauma wounds can, anyway; it’s a dull ache rather than an acute pain. Yet Crowley's story assuaged that remaining hurt like a salve I hadn’t realized I needed.

So thank you to @neil-gaiman for giving us such a beautiful story, and to David Tennant, Michael Sheen, and the rest of the cast and crew who bring the characters we love to life on screen.

Good Omens truly is a gift. May it continue to inspire us to offer kindness and love to ourselves and one another. 🖤

* I am aware that I say “you” when I should use the singular first-person “I,” but I still struggle with this when talking about my own trauma. So I’m using “you” and you, reader, will deal with it x

[silentglassbreak]

if you’re still taking and writing delulu fantasies could i please request one where you meet noah (say you know people working in the scene so you meet them backstage after a show when your friends invite you to spend time with them?).

you’re used to meeting band dudes so it’s nothing but noah tries to appear chill in his pursuit of you. you think he’s cute so you go with it but the most awkward flirtation and cringy smut ensues. (my kink’s an embarrassed noah 😌) thank you so much! <3

Cringey, embarrassed smut? That’s a first for me, and I’m kind of excited LOL. Hopefully this is what you’re looking for!

After Writing Notes: Yaknow, every time I start one of these things, I tell myself I'm going to make it shorter...Anyway, here's 9000 words. Hope you enjoy! Also, huge shoutout to @notyourmomsromancenovel for helping me come up with ideas for cringey smut.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: injury, fainting, smut (in the goofiest way ever)

Beautiful Mistakes

When you pictured Noah Sebastian - front man and lead vocalist in the viral metal-core band Bad Omens - you pictured something way different.

You had been following the band’s work for a while and, like everyone else, had noticed the immediate shift in their persona and presence. You had been a softcore fan of theirs since 2018, and spent many nights on Twitch, playing Elden Ring and listening to his streams as background noise. Sometimes you had been one of the only people in the chat, listening to him produce his beats or record rough vocals. Other times, you sat and chatted with him while he idly played guitar.

Once the pandemic hit full force, there were plenty of nights you sat and talked to Noah, watching the hilarity that ensued. Cat-eared headset on and music playing, Noah would stare at his screen, munching on the Body of Christ and making ridiculous noises.

“Where are my regulars? I need someone to talk to!”

/CrossContaminate/: I’m right here, calm down.

“Hey! Cross is here! I haven’t seen you in a while.”

/CrossContaminate/: I have a job, Noah. You wouldn’t know about that. 😝

“Woooooow…” He pressed a hand to his chest and stared straight into the camera. “That one stung, girl.”

/CrossContaminate/: How do you know I’m a girl? I could be a 50 year old dude, yaknow.

He raised his eyebrows at that. “You’ve got a point. Maybe you should come on video chat with all of us so we can be sure.” He lowered his glasses down on his nose and looked dead into the camera. “For my own safety, of course.”

You cackled loudly at this, typing out your response.

/CrossContaminate/: Nah, I don’t vid chat. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

He rolled his eyes, and smirked. “Same old Cross, I see.”

Noah tried to get you to join video chat regularly often over the years. He had DM'ed you a few times when he saw you were online, wanting to voice call or join a Discord with him, to which you always declined.

You didn’t have a hard and fast rule against chatting online with people via voice or video, you just didn’t do it. Your life was busy and hectic. You didn’t have a ton of time to yourself, so the nights where you got to sit and just not exist in the real world, and only online, it was nice to just remain anonymous.

You had stumbled across Noah’s Twitch by accident once, when looking for something different. His face captured you, however, and once you clicked into it, you were hooked. It wasn’t so much because he was good looking - he was definitely a cutie - but he looked ridiculous.

His hair was long and haphazard. He was wearing an oversized hoodie, drinking cheap wine straight from the bottle, and he was wearing huge bottle cap sunglasses. It was, by far, the goofiest thing you had seen in a long time. He was playing Dead Space, and would jump at the smallest noises, nearly screaming anytime a monster popped into the frame.

But, as all things, time moved on, and he changed. Once the pandemic was waning down, he had began preparing for the release of his next album. The streams became less frequent, and he put his account on a permanent hiatus.

It was a bummer, so you couldn’t help but try keeping track of him on socials. He was decently active on Twitter and Instagram, but even that began to slow down. He had enough followers that your personal account went unnoticed by him.

Aside from his online presence, his appearance also changed pretty dramatically in a very short time. He cut all of his hair off, which, to be entirely honest, broke your heart some. You had always loved the innocence he seemed to maintain by having the long hair. It hurt your feelings to see it go, but you had to admit, the short hair was something else entirely.

Before, Noah typically stuck to regular t-shirts and jeans, simple and timeless rock and roll fashion. Once they started touring for TDOPOM album, you noticed the dramatic change in their stage presence. Ski masks, all black clothing, track pants, and heavy coats. Noah usually ended the set in a black wife-beater top, and you noticed the other change.

He was fucking stacked, now. Noah had always been skinny and long - like a toothpick. Not anymore. His shoulders had broadened, his neck was thicker, and his arms were defined and muscular. That was a change you didn’t mind at all.

What happened? Was second puberty a thing? Because you swore that could be the only explanation for such a drastic difference in Noah in such a short time period.

Although you watched the band from afar, you never had made any time to go see them live, always working anymore. That sucked, because even if you had, it’s not like you’d be able to see him. He was too big of a celebrity now, and you were far from. He likely wouldn’t even remember you, so you never bothered.

As silly as it sounded, it almost hurt your feelings the same as watching an old friend change and grow apart from you over time, even though that wasn’t exactly the case here.

Although, you rationalized that you and him did speak nearly every day for almost two whole years - so it wasn’t that silly, was it?

So you were absolutely floored when your best friend called you, random Friday evening, and asked you for a favor.

“I booked a gig for tomorrow, and I know it’s last minute, but the guy who was supposed to be helping ate some bad sushi or something, and I could desperately use a hand.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, trying not to be too loud in the Target checkout line.

“It’s my only day off, Iz.”

She huffed. “I know, I know, but I promise it pays really well!”

You growled into the receiver. “Dude, I just did a gig last night, and I have another to do tonight!”

“It’s only four hours! And it pays twelve hundred.”

You were ready to protest, but stopped. “Total?”

“A piece.”

“Fuck, dude. That’s more than double what a normal gig that long pays.”

“I know, that’s why I’m saying, worth the exhaustion.”

You finished scanning your items, pulling your card out to pay. “That kind of money, probably a big band. Who is it?”

“Bad Omens, have you heard of them?”

You stopped, eyes snapping up and fingers stalling at the card reader. “No shit, huh?”

“So, you have heard of them?”

You grabbed your bag, making your way outside. “Yeah, actually. Remember that guy on Twitch I used to talk to?”

“Noah?” It took her a second to put the pieces together, so you stayed silent while she did. “Oh, Noah! As in Noah Sebastian!”

“Bingo.”

“Well shit! Maybe he remembers you!”

You shook your head, taking a long gulp of your iced coffee. “Mm-mm,” You set the drink down. “he never saw my face or heard my voice. Didn’t even know my real name.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Only knew me by my tag. He called me ‘Cross’ for short.”

“Ah, okay, so he’ll have no idea who you are!” She laughed at this.

You switched the call to your Bluetooth and sighed. “I guess, since you asked so fucking nicely and I need to pay my rent, I will agree to do the gig with you.”

She squeaked in appreciation. “You’re saving my ass, dude.”

You shrugged. “Pick me up at least two hours before. We need time to prepare.”

“Noon, then?”

“I’ll be ready.”

You and Isobel were known, by the official term in the industry, as Venue Assistants. You were independent contractors who were recommended to acts by the venues, and hired by those bands for specific occasions to help ensure a smooth, easy show. This could mean anything from stocking the green room, switching out instruments, helping with outfit changes, grabbing anything the artists needed. It was an exhausting job, and you had been doing it for about five years now. As tiring as it was, it paid well, and it was a lot of fun. You had the opportunity to meet some of the best bands in the industry - and some of the worst. You had more stories to tell than anyone, and you wouldn’t change careers if you were paid to.

At the venue the following day, you had received word from the stage director that the band was running behind, and they needed you both to grab food and coffees for all of them. Typically, you’d roll your eyes at this, but you didn’t immediately, as you knew life happened, and it could’ve happened for a lot of reasons. You had gone and grabbed the guys their Chinese food while Iz picked up the Starbucks order, and arrived back at the theater just before the band did.

They came in, all looking rather tired and irritated. Noah was the last to enter, baseball hat on his head and wearing basketball shorts under his large hoodie.

“All I’m saying is, I don’t know how you had no idea the window would break.” The man who you recognized to be Jolly was still lecturing Noah as they came in, dropping their bags down.

You and Isobel were in the back of the room, speaking with the crew who were preparing to bring in the instruments and equipment. You planned to help unload it all, so you were listening to the stage director instruct them on where to place everything.

“It was a stress ball! Why would I think it would break the window?!”

“Because it was hard?” Folio piped up as he sat down, tearing into the food.

“Look, it’s not a huge deal. Safelite said they can have it fixed before tomorrow. It’ll be fine!”

You shook your head, sincerely wondering what the hell they were talking about. Your attention, however, was pulled back to Isobel. You followed her out to the truck where the loading ramp was being pulled down.

“You going to talk to him?” She asked as she began pulling a mic stand out. You grabbed one of the smaller amps, and followed her back to the delivery door.

“Probably not. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“I mean,” She set the stand down and looked over to where the band sat, apparently still arguing amongst themselves, and looked back at you. “you could go talk to him now? I can unload this with the guys.”

“I need to earn my paycheck too, Iz.”

“Why don’t you want to talk to him?”

You stopped walking away, turning to look at her. “I never said that.”

“So go talk to him? He’s just a guy.”

You sighed, narrowing your eyes at her. “Fine, I will.”

Stomping back toward the couches of the green room, you heard her laugh behind you. It wasn’t any big deal, you didn’t see why she was bugging you about this. You inhaled a big breath, and walked straight up to the group, noticing they were all now sat and eating.

“Hey guys.” You waved a hand at them. “I don’t mean to bug you while you’re eating. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ll be one of your VA’s for the evening. If you need anything at all, or have any preferences I should be aware of, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

They all set their food down and stood, pushing their hands out for you to shake. You took each one gracefully, hearing them tell you their names, which you already knew.

The last to introduce himself was Noah, who, while leaning over the table to take your grasp, knocked a bottle of soy sauce down, causing you to jump back. It was too late, and your dark blue jeans had black splatter on them.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry!”

You grabbed a napkin and patted at the spots quickly, waving. “No, it’s okay. It shouldn’t stain.” Hopefully.

Nicholas grabbed a roll of paper towels from the back table and cleaned it up quickly, smiling sheepishly at you. “You’ll have to excuse Noah. He’s as clumsy as they come.”

Noah smacked a hand at his shoulder. “Not true, dick.” He looked back up at you apologetically. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

Moving around the table to approach him, you took his hand. “It’s really no problem.”

“I didn’t catch your name?” You gave it to him, and he smiled brightly at you. “That’s different?”

Smirking, you nodded. “It is. You can just call me Cross.”

For a second, you weren’t sure he was going to get it. His hand continued shaking yours for an unnecessarily long time while his brow furrowed, staring at you. After a moment, he cocked his head to the side.

“Cross…” He strung the word out on his tongue. “As in…” You could actually see the light bulb go off behind his eyes, and they popped open wide.

“Oh shit!” His hand let go of yours, and suddenly he was grabbing you by the forearms, startling you a bit. “No fucking way!”

He was smiling way bigger than you expected, but in that smile, you saw that same goofy guy that used to sit with you for hours, chatting online and dicking around.

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember.” You grinned back at him, trying to push down the little bit of butterflies that started trying to scoot their way into your chest.

You noticed how his face fell just slightly when you said it, likely remembering quite how long it had been. “Of course I remember.” His voice was even, but he still looked enthused.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you.”

He looked up and down at you, taking a step back for effect. “Yeah, same here. I guess you aren’t a fifty year old dude after all.”

Your face flushed at that, and you shook your head. “Nope. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Care to introduce?” Jolly stood behind you, and you turned to see him stand with a raised eyebrow.

Noah took the initiative to push you slightly toward the rest of the band.

“You guys remember when I used to stream all the time? And I had that one chick who used to join every day and chat with me for hours? She was the one who used to tell people I was a Billie Eilish fan page.” He looked down at you with an eyebrow raised, and you broke out in hard laughter.

“Well, you practically were, Noah!”

He shook his head, turning to tower over you. “I was not! I just like her music!”

Folio stood up, smiling wide. “Oh, dude I remember that! Didn’t she hack into your account and change your profile photo and everything?”

Noah glared down at you, which caused a whole new fit of giggles to erupt.

“What?! It got you more subs!”

He rolled his eyes and pulled your arm, moving you to sit on the couch next to him.

“How have you been?” He shoved a mouthful of chow mein and spoke around his food. “I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry.”

You just shook your head. “No need to apologize. You’ve been busy.”

He beamed at that. “Have you heard the new album?”

“I have. It’s really great.”

“You think? I appreciate that.”

You sat back, watching how he inhaled the food in front of him. “Also, I’ve been good. Also keeping busy.”

Wiping his mouth on a napkin, he nodded. “This is what you do? Full time?”

“Yeah, been doing it a while. I like it.”

He leaned back also, arms falling into his lap. The other guys had began to disperse, heading to different parts of the building to begin their preparations.

"That's cool."

The conversation fell silent between you both, and you cleared your throat. "Well, it's really good to see you, Noah."

He affirmed with a nod, chewing on his lip. "I feel bad for not keeping in touch."

"Oh stop. You had no way to reach me other than Twitch."

"That's true. I don't have social media anymore, either." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, I saw that."

The quiet was strange and uncomfortable, and you decided not to stall your job any longer. "Well, I'd better get back to work."

He stood too, bumping into your shoulder as he did, nearly knocking you back into the couch. Instantly, his hand reached out to grab you.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, and in his attempt to hook your arm, his hand missed, and grabbed a full hand of your right breast.

A sharp gasp tumbled out of you, and he pulled his hand back with haste, causing you to lose your balance again, and fall backward, the back of your head smacking the arm of the couch.

"Damn it!" He crouched down to grab you, but your hand came up in front of you.

"Uhm," You squeezed your eyes closed, clearing the spots that formed in your vision. "I got it."

Sitting up, you rubbed at the back of your head. He sat down again, keeping about a foot of distance between you.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Your eyes opened, seeing the look of absolute shame and guilt painted on his face. It was comical.

What a fucking doofus.

"Noah," You turned your head back and forth to assess if your neck was injured. It wasn't. "I think your clumsiness is spreading."

His face fell in his hands. "I'm so sorry." He apologized again, groaning loudly. "I don't know what's wrong with me today!"

"Everyone has off days." You assured, taking a moment before you stood back up.

"Not like today. I broke a window in the tour bus this morning, that's why we were late."

Your mouth fell open. "You broke the window?"

"I didn't mean to! I had one of those squishy stress-ball things? It was real firm, cause it was new. So I was trying to soften it up by squeezing it, and I thought, maybe if I bounced it a few times, it would get softer..."

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You didn't..."

"I just tossed it gently and the fucking thing broke a hole clean out of the window!"

Maybe it was the near-concussion or the obscenity of it all, but a guttural laughter came out of you, making you fall back onto the couch clutching your sides.

"It's not funny!" Noah tried to argue, but ended up laughing with you, his bravado deflating.

"Ah, Noah," You wiped the tears spilling from your eyes. "you really haven't changed."

After your unfortunate accident earlier, Noah had insisted on exchanging numbers with you, so he could check in and make sure you were okay throughout the night. This was after he failed to convince you to go get checked out at an ER, and swore him to not tell anyone what happened. The last thing you needed was an incident in the workplace.

Noah was half an hour from going onstage, and you were on the side stage, checking the battery level of all of the microphones. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you rolled your eyes. It had been nearly constant for the last three hours.

Noah: Checking in. How's the head?

You sighed, typing a quick response.

You: Same as it was twenty minutes ago - normal.

Noah: Any pain?

You: No.

That wasn't entirely true. You had a dull throbbing at the base of your skull, but you were doing a great job of ignoring it.

Noah: Okay. Where are you?

You: Stage left. I'm covering you and Folio tonight, so I'm checking the mics and making sure all your stuff is ready.

Noah: Cool. Need any help?

You: Shouldn't you be getting ready?

Noah: Yeah, probably.

You snickered, staring at your screen before sending the next message.

You: If I didn't know better, I'd think you concussed me just to ask me for my number.

It was stupid, but you couldn't help but fuck with him a little bit. His response came quickly.

Noah: Maybe I did. ;P

You scowled down at the phone. What the hell?

His type bubble appeared quickly, another message coming in.

Noah: Wait, that sounded creepy. I'm kidding, I swear.

You: Suuuuuuure

He read that message, but didn't respond. You had definitely caught him a little off-guard and it made you laugh. You stared down at the winking face emoji, and it dawned on you that he was flirting with you. You visibly shivered, somewhat stunned.

Noah Sebastian was tall, dark, and sexy in almost every video and interview you had watched of him since he went dark over a year ago...but inside, it appeared he was still just as dorky and uncoordinated as you always knew him to be. You didn't realize it was quite this bad, however.

And not only was he clumsy, he was bad at flirting too...

You shook off the feeling, trying your hardest not to smile at the thought. Despite the ickiness of it all, you were flattered. He may be kind of Scooby-Doo-ish, but he was handsome, and talented. He also had a soft, deep side of him that you had the pleasure of seeing on more than one occasion.

Maybe he was just nervous? Maybe you could just go with it and see how it turned out?

You resolved to push it to the back of your mind for the time being, placing yourself back into your professional work mindset as the show began.

Noah was entirely different on stage, completely in control and flowing effortlessly through the songs. He looked like an entirely different person out there. He would pop back to the sides here and there to get some water, switch out his mic, or wipe the sweat from his face. Each time, he'd give you a look of concern, and ask about your head again. You would just shush him and push him back out onto the stage.

You were also covering Folio, who was up on the riser, beating away at his drum set. The stairs you had to climb were tall, and after the third trip up here, you felt the room tilt like it was turning on it's side. You held the railing, catching Folio's eye as the darkened room began lighting up again.

He mouthed at you a quick 'You good?' and you just nodded, throwing him a thumbs up, and heading back down the stairs. Noah was stood, gulping his water, and staring at you.

"I saw that. What's wrong?"

You shook your head. "Nothing, go, the next song is starting."

He pressed a hand into your shoulder, now looking much more stern than worried. "I don't care. Are you okay?"

Still trying to brush it off, you grabbed hold of his arm, trying to push him away. It didn't occur to you that it was also instinctive, as your feet were starting to feel a little numb. "Noah, you don't have time for this."

He stood square in front of you, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over his chest.

"Are. You. Okay?" He enunciated each word, but he suddenly started to look so much taller than he did a second ago. And when did he become so fuzzy?

Your hand squeezed where it was hooked onto his bicep in an attempt to stop the inevitable, but, unfortunately, before he could manage to reach for you, the room went dark.

Your eyes cracked open, a harsh light shining in them, and you squinted against it.

"Hey, you with us?" A blonde man you didn't recognize stared down at you, a stethoscope around his neck and gloves on his hands.

A paramedic. Amazing.

When you looked around, you realized you were on a gurney, sitting in the back of an ambulance with the doors open, in the parking lot of the venue. It was the paramedic that was on call at the theater that night.

"Ugh, no fucking way." You tried to sit up, but a hand pressed onto your shoulder. You shifted your eyes to see Isobel sitting on the bench next to the stretcher. "Iz? What happened?"

The EMT spoke for her, putting his light back in his shirt pocket, and began moving his fingers back and forth in front of your face for you to follow.

"Well, you passed out, and cracked your head on the floor pretty good." You squeezed your eyes closed in frustration. "Big guy in there told us you hit your head earlier, too? That's probably what caused you to faint."

Yeah. Big, dumb, gargantuan guy.

"My head hurts." You winced as the medic turned your neck, checking your range of motion.

"I'm sure it does. You're all intact, it appears, but given that this was the second impact today, I strongly suggest going to the ER to get a scan."

You rolled your eyes, trying again to sit up. "I don't think-"

Isobel cut you off. "We're going."

The EMT nodded, and reached to begin shutting the doors. Admitting defeat, you carefully laid your head back down. The vehicle started moving and you let out a hard breath.

"We're so not getting paid for tonight."

Iz laughed, shaking her head. "I think it'll be fine. Noah was in a near panic attack when he moved you to the couch. Kept saying it was all his fault."

You snickered. "Kind of is."

"He wanted to cancel the rest of the show, but I told him you'd have a full stroke if he did that because of you."

Your eyes popped open, and you tried to sit up. "He didn't do that, did he?!"

The EMT pressed you back down. "Easy, easy."

Isobel patted your shoulder. "No, he didn't."

You melted back onto the bed. "Oh thank fuck for that."

The ride to the Emergency Room was short, and the nurses made quick work of getting you into a rollable bed and carting you off to get a CT scan of your head and neck. That was mundane, but they had given you something decent for the pain, so it wasn't so bad. You hummed to yourself as you were rolled back to your room, and Isobel was missing. You whipped your head around, looking to see if she was anywhere to be found, but a voice came from the opposite side.

"She went to get a snack."

Noah stood by the doorway, hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, white t-shirt on, and a beanie over his hair. He had cleaned up since the show, you could tell.

"The show is over already?"

He huffed out a laugh, stepping over to the end of your bed. "Yeah, for a little while now. You've been at the hospital for two hours."

You raised your eyebrows, but it didn't phase you too much. "Time flies when you're on morphine, I suppose."

His hands gripped the rails at the end of the bed. "How you doing?"

You nodded, sinking against the mattress. "I mean, I've been better, but I've been worse."

He lifted an eyebrow at you, and moved to perch himself on the very edge of the end of the bed. "Yeah? That's...better than nothing?"

You nodded, looking him up and down. He looked more like himself in this outfit, and you liked it. It felt more genuine.

"How did the rest of the show go?"

He shrugged his shoulders, hands still in his pockets. "Good, I guess. I was stressed, so I felt like I kind of rushed through it."

You brought your arms up behind your head, getting comfortable. "You shouldn't have. I'm good."

Noah deadpanned at you. "Obviously you weren't. You should've gone to the hospital earlier."

You scoffed. "Oh well. Doesn't matter now."

He was leaned over, his shoulder pulled in and he looked nervous.

"What's wrong?"

"What?" He looked bewildered.

"You look upset or something?"

He snickered, readjusting his feet on the floor. "Well, I gave you a concussion, couldn't convince you to get checked out and agreed not to tell anyone, which led to you getting an even worse concussion, and you're now potentially bleeding into your brain... That's probably got something to do with it."

You waved a hand at him. "Details. It's not a big deal."

He shook his head, looking at the wall adjacent from him and not at you. "This is not how I pictured us getting to meet."

This interested you, so you probed. "You pictured us meeting?"

He smirked. "We talked for a couple years, Cross. Of course I did."

"And how was that supposed to go?" High or not, you were curious.

He chuckled, still not looking at you. "Not like this."

You rolled your eyes. "Well, duh. But what did you expect?"

"I don't know. Something normal? Hanging at a movie or getting food? Like normal people?"

You cackled. "Well, you're not normal, Noah."

"Clearly." He said through grit teeth.

Leaning back again, you relaxed, and pursed your lips. "Were you trying to flirt with me earlier?"

You could tell this caught him by surprise, as he began looking nervous again. "What do you mean?"

"Well, either your were trying to flirt, or you actually gave me a concussion just to get my phone number."

He bit back a laugh, looking at you sheepishly. "Yeah, no that wasn't on purpose. Just a bad joke."

"Well, you could've just asked for my number, is all I'm saying."

He shook with soft laughter. "Noted." He stood then, turning toward the doorway where Isobel could be seen coming down the hallway. "Well, I mostly wanted to make sure you were okay. I should go."

Something about that didn't feel right to you, and you sat up a little quickly, your brain sloshing slightly in your skull, but you ignored it.

"You're leaving?" In your inebriated mind, you pictured yourself looking silly and desperate, but your logic knew that likely was just the drugs talking.

“Yeah, well, you don’t need a disaster magnet hanging around.” He said looking timid.

Isobel had joined you back in the bedroom, and was turning to look between the both of you.

“Everything okay?” She stared at Noah, and he reached a hand to palm the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready to head out.”

Your mouth moved before you could stop it. “No he wasn’t.”

Both of their heads snapped to look up at you, and he looked so puzzled. “No?”

You shook your head, soft smile adorning your face. “No, not unless you have somewhere to be.”

Isobel picked up on the tension in the room and made a show to look at her smart watch.

“Oh damn, look at that, I’m getting a call. Be right back.”

She slipped from the room and Noah focused his stare back on you.

“You want me to stay?”

You nodded, crossing your legs in front of you and sitting straight.

“That could be hazardous, you know?” He joked, but rounded back around by the bed, sitting a little closer to you on the edge.

“I don’t care.”

It took what felt like forever for the doctor to finally enter the room, interrupting yours and Noah’s game of hot hands you were playing while Iz sat in a chair on the side, chatting idly about the next gig she had booked for Motionless in White.

“Ah, I see your coordination is no issue.” The doctor spoke right as your hand came down to slap the back of Noah’s hard, forcing him to pull away hastily and hiss in pain.

You giggled, and turned to face the physician. “How’s my head?” He looked down at his paperwork, nodding in approval. Noah moved off the bed so the doctor could come around and shine a light at your eyes for the hundredth time.

“Looks good. No bleeds, no fractures. You shouldn’t have any lasting side effects aside from some headaches for a few days.” You smiled and glanced at Noah, seeing the physical relief he breathed out.

“You need to follow up with a neurologist in one week, and you need to stay in bed for at least five days.”

You grunted in disapproval. “That sucks.”

He sucked his teeth. “I know, but it’s just a precaution. Do you live with someone? Parents? Roommate? Boyfriend?”

If Noah were a dog, his ears would have been perking at that last word.

You shook your head. “Just me.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone. Can you stay with someone until you can go to the neurologist?”

I sunk down. “Not really? I have a cat that needs to be looked after.”

“I can come stay with you.” Isobel spoke up from her side of the bed, and I smiled at her appreciatively.

“Okay, good. I think I can get you out of here, then. No blood thinners for a few days, just Tylenol for pain. You experience any odd symptoms or pain that’s unbearable, you come straight back, yes?”

You nodded, and he smiled.

“Great, I’ll put in for the discharge.”

You turned to look at her, reaching out for her to take your hand. “You didn’t have to do that, Iz.”

She smirked. “Someone has to.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Can we just stop by my place? I’ve got a couple things I need to do, it’ll take a couple hours, probably. Or I can drop you off and head back over?”

“She shouldn’t be alone, though, right?” Noah piped up from where he stood on the opposing side of the bed.

You sighed. “I’m so tired though. I want to go home and get in my sweats.”

He pursed his lips, mind working while looking at your face, before glancing back up to Isobel.

“Why don’t I take her home, and I can hang with her till you get there? That way you can do what you need to, but she can go home and get comfortable?”

Isobel eyed you, wanting to hear your thoughts on it before she answered. You just shrugged in response, and she slowly tore her eyes off of you to look back at Noah.

“Alright, but be careful driving her home.” She smiled in a patronizing fashion. “You can understand my hesitation after today.”

He clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what she meant, and looked back down at you. You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

His eyes fell back to Iz, that sternness returning in his tone.

“I‘ll be careful.”

The drive back to your apartment was silent, the air hanging with uncertainty. The only sound above the whir of the motor was you giving directions to your place, and Noah humming his understanding.

It took until you were over halfway there for him to look at you, eyes looking sad.

“Feel like the morphine’s wearing off?”

You were rubbing at your temples, and you snorted. “How could you tell?”

He smirked. “I’m so sorry.”

You groaned. “Noah, if you apologize one more time, I’m going to slap you.”

He sucked his lips in and looked back out the windshield.

“It wasn’t your fault, it happens.”

His knuckles flexed on the steering wheel and he inhaled a long breath. "It's actually, technically, one hundred percent my fault." He admitted, gritting his teeth.

He pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, and his vehicle came to a stop just outside of your building.

"I don't suppose you live on the first floor?" He chanced, but you shook your head.

"Third." He looked like he was about to start stressing, but you smiled. "There's an elevator."

This made him relax back in his seat before he stepped out, moving quickly to your side and letting you out.

He carried your bag and sweater in his arms as you led up to the elevator, and down the hall to your small one-bedroom apartment. Once inside, your white, short-haired cat bound up to you both, meowing with fervor.

Noah looked down at her, and back up to you. You reached down and scooped up her small body with one hand, holding her to your chest.

"Noah, this is Narcissa."

He smiled, petting her head with one finger, which she accepted graciously.

"She's probably starving, I'd better feed her." Before you could move toward the kitchen, he put a hand on your arm.

"Let me. Where's her food?"

You pointed him in the right direction, taking the moment to head into your bedroom, kicking your shoes off and reaching for a t-shirt from the closet and a pair of shorts from the drawer of your long dresser. He appeared in the doorway right after you had slipped the shirt over your head, and he leaned against the frame.

"She's fed. Anything I can get you?"

You panned around the room, thinking for a moment. "I've got some chips and salsa in the kitchen. Chips in the pantry and salsa in the fridge. Want to grab it and meet me in the living room?"

He nodded, heading to complete his task. You padded over to the couch, dropping down onto the soft cushions, and pulled your sofa blanket over you. He joined you after a moment, setting the food on the coffee table, your phone next to it.

"Thought you'd want that."

He sat and watched the television as you flipped through Hulu, looking for something to watch. You could feel how uncomfortable he was, trying so hard to keep a wide distance from you, likely so as not to hurt you.

"Noah?"

He looked over, eyebrows raised. "Hmm?"

You made a show of relaxing back on the couch, and motioned for him to do the same. "Take a breath. I'm fine."

He tried, leaning back and exhaling loudly. "You okay with Evil Dead? It's one of my favorites."

"Sure. I've seen it a couple times."

You sat back, now munching on some chips, and offered him the bag. He grabbed some, crunching on them loudly.

The movie played, but you could feel how, as he finally did begin to relax, he was moving somewhat closer to you. It was fascinating. He wasn't doing it on purpose, it was almost as if he was a magnet, and you were the pole it attached to.

"Can I ask you a question?" He looked over at you, listening. "Why did you go dark?"

You could see he was baffled by the so off-topic ask, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Uh," He looked back at you. "A lot of reasons, really."

"Mm." You nodded, setting the chips back on the table. "Why did you go dark on me?"

This caught his complete attention, and his body turned to face you. "What?"

"You didn't even say bye or anything. You just...stopped coming online. And I had no way to reach out."

He furrowed his brow. "I'm a little surprised you wanted to, Cross."

"Why?"

He made a noise that sounded nearly annoyed. "Well, you never wanted to talk on a call. You never showed your face. You wouldn't even tell me your real name."

Guilt sunk in to your gut, reminding you that he was absolutely right.

"I just figured you weren't interested in maintaining the friendship beyond what it was, so I didn't think about it."

You nodded, understanding. There was nothing wrong with it, but it still sort of hurt your feelings.

"I get it. I was just curious."

"Why didn't you ever reach out?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but had to stop, because you realized...you didn't know. There wasn't a clear, concise reason why. Maybe you liked the idea of Noah being just an idea? A friend? Someone who didn't know you, and all that came with? Maybe it made it easier to feel safe talking to him?

He noticed you were uncomfortable with the conversation, and waved it off. "It doesn't matter now."

You had to agree with that. It wasn't going to change anything.

"Well, let's just watch the movie and you can rest."

You leaned back on the couch, and it wasn't lost on you that Noah was slowly scooting closer still, only now, you were pretty sure he was doing it on purpose. The room felt warm, and you adjusted under the blanket to kick a leg out, it being pressed against his. His eyes darted down to where you had touched him, and back up to your face. You kept your eyes straight ahead, smirking at the situation.

He leaned forward, pulling his beanie off and running his hand through his hair. "Is it warm in here?"

You smiled, just dropping your shoulders. He leaned back, and tried so desperately to smoothly slip an arm on the back of the couch, stretching at the same time.

He wasn't actually doing this, was he?

He was adorable, despite how absolutely ridiculous he was. He was nervous, and you knew that, but you worked overtime to hide your amusement, just shifting so you were pressed into his side.

His hand hesitated on the back of the couch, twitching as if he wanted to just wrap it around your shoulders, your head now resting on his chest.

You sighed loudly. "Noah, just put your arm around me."

"Yup." He gripped you, and adjusted to curl into him closer, leg falling over his. You giggled at him, and he pressed his face into the top of your head, embarrassed. "Clearly, I'm not good at this."

The movie played on, and at the scarier parts, you gripped his shirt tightly. You weren't very spooked, but it was what you did when snuggling on the couch with a cute boy, so you just went with it.

"Cross?" His voice was small, and you pressed in closer to hear him better.

"Hmm?"

"I really want to kiss you, but I'm kind of," He cleared his throat. "afraid?"

You scrunched up your nose and lifted your face to look at him. "Afraid?" His eyes were so big and doe-like, it pulled at something in your chest.

"Yeah, after all that's happened today? What if I miss and...I don't know...break your nose, or something?"

It took a second, but your face broke out in a large grin and you started laughing like a hyena. It was so absurd.

"What?!"

You had to take a breath, the ache in your head beginning to throb a little harder with your labored breathing. "I'm sorry!" You squeaked out, trying to contain yourself.

"Is it that hard to believe?"

You shook your head. "It's not." You could barely hold the giggles in. "That's why it's so funny."

He narrowed his eyes, pulling his arm from where it was wrapped around your back, but you pushed in closer, finally halting your laughing and looked at him.

"Noah," You lifted one hand to press your palm against his cheek. "if you want to kiss me, just do it."

His eyes flipped between both of yours, considering, before he leaned in and you closed your eyes.

Problem is, so did he...

His top teeth collided into yours making a harsh clacking sound, and causing you both to pull away hastily.

"God damn it!" His hand pressed into his gums, and he stared at you. "Are you okay?" You were laughing again, and he growled. "Maybe we should just not even try."

The tears in your eyes glistened, making him look glittery in your vision, and you just smiled brightly at him.

"Fucking hell, Noah."

You lifted yourself up, grabbing his face, and pressing your mouth to his, this time without incident. Your lips molded to his, and you felt him let out a breath he had been holding. His hands cautiously grabbed you, gently moving you to position so you straddled him, lips not disconnecting as he did.

Your hands gripped his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. Your lips went to work laying featherlike kisses on the soft skin when you heard his voice.

"Uhm, Cross?" He was out of breath, and his chest was heaving. "We probably shouldn't do anything too crazy, on account of the concussion." His voice sounded unconvinced, but still, you pulled back, raising an eyebrow at him.

"My brain is fine. Now, let me have some fun, for fucking once."

His fingers dug into your sides, and your tongue was tracing his tattoos on the side of his throat.

"B-But, I really don't know if we should. The doctor said-"

You pulled back again, this time becoming annoyed. "The doctor said I needed to stay in bed. This counts."

"Okay, but, what if it makes it worse?"

You deflated a bit, hands falling down onto your lap. "Do you not want to do this?" Your voice had cracked just slightly, and you silently cursed yourself for it.

His eyes bulged, and he grabbed you harder. "No, I do! I really, really do. I just don't want to hurt you."

Even with the concern and empathy in his voice, you couldn't help but grind down onto his hips, noticing his pants were significantly tighter, and pull a moan straight out of his chest.

"You won't Noah. At least, not in a bad way." You wiggled your brows at him and gripped the sides of his neck.

He looked confused. "Is there a good way?" Incredulously, you dropped your forehead on his chest, his mind catching up a second later. "Oh! Oh right! Sorry, I don't know where my mind is right now."

You just kissed him again, tired of talking - or whatever that was - about it. Noah lifted his hips to push into you, which was the first thing he had done right all evening. You felt his erection beneath the layers of fabric between you, the friction delicious against your crotch. This time, he began placing soft kisses on your neck, barely touching the skin and teasing you.

His fingers loosened around your hips and wandered up to your shirt, slipping underneath and goosebumps rose on your skin where he touched. His hands found your breasts and took them in handfuls.

You couldn't help but giggle at the memory that flashed through your head, which caused him to look up at you.

"What?"

You smiled down at him. "Nothing, it's just that you grabbed my chest earlier when you tried to catch me. I was just thinking, I like this better."

He sighed, his head falling back. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed that."

You kissed him again, pressing back down on him, and regaining his attention.

"Noah?" His eyes looked at yours, his body now rhythmically pressing into you. "Fuck me? Please?"

You didn't mean to sound quite so needy, but it just came out that way. You were aching so bad for it, and you felt as if he didn't slip inside you soon, you may explode.

His eyes darkened, and he smiled back at you, his arms flexing around your waist and lifting you gently to lay you down on the couch. Hands making quick work of your shorts, pulling them off and staring at you. You may have forgotten to put panties on when you changed earlier, so he was marveling at the sight in front of him.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he pulled his own pants and boxers down, exposing his cock. You were impressed. Where Noah lacked grace and technique, he made up elsewhere. He slipped his hand into his pocket, fishing his wallet out. He located the condom quickly and applied it, giving himself a few long strokes as his free hand slid down your stomach, fingertips running through your folds for a second.

"You're sure it won't hurt you?" His mouth was hung open, and you rolled your eyes in response.

You reached your arms up, grabbing at him and pulling him down toward you. He fell forward with you, and his hand came down hard on the edge of the coffee table by mistake. He pulled it back, yelping.

"Fuck!" He shook out his hand, and you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you.

"It's okay. Just look at me." Doing as he was told, his dick pressed against your entrance, nudging for approval.

You rocked your hips up, assisting him as he slipped partially inside of you. The stretch burned incredibly, your eyes rolling back with it.

"Oh, wow." Your words were just breaths, arms wrapping around his neck. "T-That's...wow."

Noah's hips pulled back before snapping forward, driving into you with force. Your body shook with the feeling, clenching down around him. His lips were pressing kisses into the skin on your jaw and collarbone, adding to the lovely sensation.

"Holy fuck, Noah." You lifted your legs to lock around his waist, pushing your hips up. "Harder."

He rammed your body into the cushions, the back of the couch smacking the wall loudly.

"J-Jesus. So good." His words were so quiet, you almost didn't hear. His face was buried in your neck, sweat forming in his hair. "You're so tight."

His whispers were pushing you off the edge. "Ugh, keep talking to me." Your hands gripped his hair, pulling at the roots.

"Fucking can't take it, it's so good. So perfect. So wet." He was railing you so hard, you felt as though you may cry from the sensation. "Just want to stay buried inside you all night, baby."

His words came out so softly, so soothingly that you let your body relax and let go, orgasm ready to tip.

That is, until...

"Ow..." It was almost silent. "Oww..." That was louder. "Ow! Ouch! Fuck!" He sat up suddenly, falling back on the couch.

You sat up, your head still spinning. "What's wrong?!" Your hands wandered over him, but he lifted his leg up on the couch, gripping his calf.

"Fucking leg cramp." His fingers pressed into the visibly tight muscle, and you fell backward, orgasm officially lost.

"I'm sorry!" He tried to reach for you, but you lifted your head, shooting him a warning glance. He pulled back, face turning a deep shade of red.

His cock, however, was stood at full attention still.

Rolling your tongue around in your mouth, you swung your legs off the couch and stood. You pointed to the cushions, and demanded him. "Lay down."

Without hesitation, he did as he was told, laying flat on his back, and stared at you longingly.

Wasting no time, you sat down, sliding onto him with ease now that you'd had a chance to adjust. The angle made you feel so full, so satiated. You let out a long, comfortable moan.

His hands grabbed you, and you began to rock back and forth, begging to chase that lost climax. He peered up at you through half-masked lids, fingers gripping your thighs now.

"Is that better, baby?" You nodded, fingernails scratching down his chest. "Going to come this way? Make a mess all over me?"

Just like Noah was on stage, when he was fucking, he liked to be in control. He was good at it, too.

You nodded, pressing your clit into the skin of his pubic bone. The friction combined with the pressure he was putting on that spot inside you had your thrusts more erratic.

"Can't last like this, honey. You're going to make me come if you keep riding me so fucking good."

His hips were rocking up into you, finding the wave you were riding and helping it wash over you.

"Noah..." You whimpered, hands digging into the skin of his sides. "I'm going to come."

"Yeah, baby, come for me."

His voice, so deep, raspy, sultry, shoved you over that edge, your body slowing down and spasming around him. His hips only had to buck up two more times before he was groaning, leaving fingerprint bruises in your thighs.

You both stayed still, breathing heavily, staring at each other. A grin creeped up onto your face slowly, a matching expression on his.

Both lost in your own universe, neither of you had heard the front door unlocking...

"Hey! I got finished quicker than I expected, so I-"

Both of your heads whipped to the front door, where Isobel had stepped in, duffel bag on her arm and food bags in the other.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" She turn around, covering her eyes with her hand. "What the fuck!"

You and Noah promptly jumped together, scrambling to right yourselves. He pulled at his pants that were still wrapped around his ankles, and you grabbed the blanket from the couch. He sat upright on the sofa, and you pressed against him, pulling the blanket over yourself.

Mortified, you both waited for her to turn around, which she did, eventually.

"Sorry about that, Iz." You said as you interlaced your fingers with Noah's, who was using his other hand to fully cover his face in humiliation.

"Not what I was expecting to see today!" She squealed, walking past the couch toward the kitchen. "I have food, you fucking pervs."

Once she had left the living room, you and Noah looked up at each other, both blushing furiously at having been caught in the act.

Even with the added mishap, you both broke out into large, shining smiles, laughing at the situation.

What a fucking doofus.

[acatwithstockings]

Could you please, please tell me everything about the 1990's Good Omens (very bad) Movie script? you mentioned not being able to taIk about it because no one is interested (which I very much relate to, but in just basically anything Good Omens related) I was not there for when it was leaked, so I'd really like to know like... all of it (I promise I am so interested, and also very very obsessed with Good Omens. I'll absolutely be your captive audience.)

the only things I think I know are that Crowley's mean and has a nightclub, and Aziraphale has a museum(??). and it's in America??

You don't know how happy it just makes me to ramble on about that one. Could write a whole essay tbh (I try my best not to bc my spelling is atrocious pff ).

Only snagged it myself after a whole year of searching when it got put up on Dropbox for a few hours. Got taken down quickly again. Idk if it was bc of a copyright claim or if the owner took it down themselves bc it isn't supposed to be spread around due to said issues and they (not quite so cleverly) posted the Link on a post that would make it especially easy for the copyright holder to find it. At any rate, I Got really lucky in that regard. The copyright issues around this thing are fascinating in general and could make for a great study in regards to the flaws of that system.

As for the script contents... Well it's something.

Yes Crowley is mean, it would be wrong however to reduce that version of him to that. (I will try and point out why later). Yes he owns a nightclub, the aptly named hellfire on a hill (? Idk enough about british topography to know if that's a hint towards a real part of town or just bc the visual of it is cool ) in London. So It does not play in America and Aziraphale is working at the British museum. Canon explanation why they try everything and anything to not give back the artefacts they stole, I suppose. (That was a joke. In the script itself it isn't even as much as mentioned that our favorite angel has any interest in collecting anything, missed opportunity if you ask me)

In general the whole thing plays out extremely differently from the story we all love. And sadly lacks the Prattchian humor... For obvious reasons. It does have it's moments tho not many but they are there. ( "Crowley un-snakes" will never not be funny)

What follows is a lengthy summary which will have a bit of analysis and personal interpretation mixed into it . Bc who needs good struktur if you can do stream of consciousness? Am I right?

We begin with the protagonist Crowley in company of Aziraphale, who in this version sadly takes a bit of a backseat, playing checkers in Aziraphale's study. In this version they are color coded: with pure white clothing and hair and pure black clothing and hair. Crowley remarks that 'everything is going too well'. To which Aziraphale points out, that complaining seems to be a favorite past time of the demon. in this version he has a knack for putting down/dismissing Crowley on basis of being a demon (" Oh, isn't that just like a demon? Six-thousand years and all you do is complain") and it's part of his ark , kinda. Cohesion and following things through isn't exactly a strong suit here.

It looks like Aziraphale is about to win, however Crowley uses the cliché 'Lock over there' trick to cheat. In the following dialogue we learn that they have been playing one checkers match a week for the past six thousand years. So basically it's presumed they played their first match in Eden before checkers was even invented. (Then again the stage direction describes a painting depicting Crowley as green snake wearing sunglasses in Eden, so they just have been trend setters from the start) . They then set a date for their next match, Crowley makes his distaste for earth known, they meet Aziraphale's assistant Polly, who is very unimpressed by Crowley and then he is off not without causing some mischief with a stolen wallet.

Aziraphale gets a little scene where he is appraising a painting for its authenticity. He gets called 'bramy as a box of fruit bats' and tells the ones that brought the painting that if it were real, he'd know bc he would have seen the master paint it. The interesting thing here is that this scene essentially is there to show us, that despite not acknowledging Crowley's cheating or directly calling out the forgery and its purpose (to gain money), even calling it pretty, he knows what's going on he simply chooses to play/be aloof .

Next we get introduced to the nightclub. Nothing much happens here at first except that we get introduced to the Barstaff. Or well at least Tina (my love) the barman. As it seems Crowley is managing a successful business and outside of a little rant, calling people sheep and wanting bigger cocktail umbrellas, he genuinely seems to be competent in his leadership and friendly to his staff. Even knowing them by name .

Other notable staff members are Warren, I think he has one line and is the handyman/security of the nightclub and Marjorie who gets a few more lines and is part of the waitstaff. Who by the way are put in full body imp costumes bc of course the nightclub is themed after hell.

Crowley then contacts hell, where he ultimately gets told that Satan himself has a special task for him. And we get the first clue that Crowley, who so far has given us very cool very early 90's style Anti"hero' is scared shitless. Not just that, hell thinks he is a bit of a loser, not being impressed by his mission reports and all that.

We then get to the good old Hyde Park scene with a nearly drowned drake safed by Aziraphale's intervention and everything. What is interesting here however is, that Crowley is a full blown nihilist and Aziraphale just very over enthusiastically positive. Aziraphale saying a woman is doing something good by giving her ice cream to a child while Crowley points out that the ice had first been dropped to the ground and been liked by a dog. (Script!Aziraphale as much as I love you but I am with script! Crowley on this one). Aziraphale points out that that hardly matters because the child is happy and that makes it a good deed. Crowley snarkily retorts that happiness is a stupid metric for good things and says he likes one thing about humans : that they are reliable in doing the selfish bad thing.

Aziraphale then tries to get Crowley to reveal why things are going to well. Crowley points out that they are enemies and he shouldn't give out that information despite the arrangement (sadly we don't get more information about that but I would love to know how it looked in that universe) and only is convinced by Aziraphale being hurt about it and giving him sad puppy eyes. Crowley then invites Aziraphale over to his nightclub after hours to talk about what head office actually wants from him.

We then jump to the nightclub again. Crowley is surprisingly decent towards people, Tina is managing the club and all seems rather nice. Madam Tracy is making an entrance. In this version she is an slowly aging out of it IT-girl. It's implied that she had a multitude of affairs and that she has now been payed off big time. (I enjoy Madam Tracy in this version a LOT). She never seems to be quite there but still owns any situation.

Her and Crowley have a little conversation that gets broken up when he decides to deal with a Troublemaker at the bar instead of letting Warren take care of it. (Side note that part of the script gave me the HC that script! Crowley is very short, definitely shorter than script!Aziraphale don't ask me why) . He is having a full blown Anime protagonist moment, including using the bribe the trouble maker gives him to give to the Waitress the Troublemaker had harassed in a very cool™ manner and stopping a punch with one hand. Just believe me it's very anime. But again Crowley seems to be actual decent boss, believe it or not.

He then gets a Call in the bathroom . Satan talking to him through the mirror without prior notice. He orders Crowley to get to a graveyard within 30 minutes. Crowley is keeping it together but he is panicking. He is having a short conversation with Tracy again in which he stays relatively friendly surprisingly enough.

Fun fact this whole film would have had "Every day' as musical theme. Bc from this moment the song gets mentioned continuously.

After speeding and vandalizing a cop car out of desperation since he is late and they determined to stop him, we get to meet satan. In this version he is a cold calculating (but very cool) business man . Crowley, in German we'd say 'legt sich erstmal ordentlich auf's maul' (meaning he trips and falls on the ground). He is groveling before him, bootlicking and trying to appease his Master (for real tho if that movie would have been made there would have been Satan/Crowley shippers bc that shit is some fuel for a toxic ship). At any rate Crowley is making a bit of a fool of himself and Satan is enjoying the Powertrip. In the end he gives Crowley the antichrist with the task to raise the baby or else suffer worse than anyone else in hell. However if he succeedes he is getting to leave the planet (again he supposedly doesn't even like earth in this version)

Anathema is introduced. She is just a little occult girl that felt the antichrist coming to earth. No mentioning of prophecies or anything. Our beloved Agnes does not exist in this universe. Just a little girl with green eyes and a sense for the occult.

Now with a baby he is supposed to take care of, Crowley makes his way back to the nightclub. There he hides the newborn from his employees and gets pulled away to discuss something by Tina. Since he is hiding the baby he puts the newborn down, right into Madam Tracy's money bag. And well, while he is off talking with Tina , Madam Tracy is taking her bag without noticing the child and off she goes. Leaving Crowley with the problem of a lost antichrist and for some reason a slowmo shot of him trying to catch up with a taxi.

He starts drinking. He knows he is done for so what's the point. (The first bottle he grabs is Aardvark Snapps idk why I finde that interesting) . At this point he has accepted that he will end up for an eternity being punished. Hours later Aziraphale makes an appearance and is a little bit judgemental about Crowley being drunk. (Side note: an other hc of mine is that script!Aziraphale is straight edge bc of that scene). Crowley tries to have him join him drinking but fails. And then just tries a to have a little heart to heart. ("I am doomed, Aziraphale") Only getting a little speech about being a demon and therefore inherently being doomed ('duhhh!') back.

Crowley eventually just confides in Aziraphale how much he has fucked up having a bit of a monologue about it. Eventually Aziraphale offers to help find the boy, but only if he is allowed to influence him. To which Crowley reluctantly agrees, because it would mean that he still fails his task of raising a boy that Satan could be proud of. But Aziraphale is a little bit manipulative (also Crowley is still drunk while Aziraphale is sober) so they shake on it. Anyway this exchange is one of my favorites in the script .

We finally jump eleven years into the future and get to meet Adam.

He has been adopted by Madam Tracy. And is now running a bed and breakfast in the quaint little town of Tadfield. Instead of an army base this Tadfield has direct access to the sea. Including it's very own pier. Anyhow I said Adam is running the b&b that's because Madam Tracy is a neglectful parent and as much as I enjoy her script version, she is not doing great here. Adam is running errands, making breakfast for his mom and generally keeping things together. His whole introduction is him being a little adult .

He finally gets some child time and we meet 'the Them' except they are not 'the Them'. Brian, Pepper and Wensleydale are a friend group and they try to talk to Adam because Pepper wants to be friends with him ( I think the intention was to make Pepper and Adam as THING but idk) . But Adam wants nothing to do with them and instead just wants his peace and quite. So he gets insulted for not having a father and sulks off.

Anathema has also arrived at the scene. And has a culture shock bc of the lackluster infrastructure out here. She arrives in Tadfield with some difficulties and now has to somehow find a place to stay. And while the town seemed overrun with places renting out rooms it also has a case of outdated world views and nobody is willing to take Anathema in for some reason or the other. She eventually gets pointed into the direction of Madam Tracy. Where she is informed that she can have a room . And Madam Tracy casually dunks on Picasso which I can support.

Anathema then repeatedly runs into Adam and tries to strike up a conversation but he just doesn't want to and runs off. As both of them eventually go home at the end of the day he accuses her of following him, since they both are taking the same path. As he gets told that Anathema also lives at the same address as him now he gets angry and stroms to Madam Tracy, disrupting a seance to scold her for taking on a lodger without his approval. He is angry that Madam Tracy is so reckless taking in people without proper background check.

Following that, Adam interviews Anathema. And they bond .

At night Adam sneaks off to the pier and we learn that he has build a model of Tadfield in an abandoned arcade.

He and Anathema bond a bit more over breakfast. (And honestly I like that version of them more relationship wise. As much as I love Prattchet, he did have a particular style of writing children that also came through in Gomens . It lends itself great to hypotheticals and punchlines, not so much for interpersonal relationships)

Back to Crowley and Aziraphale. Last time Crowley had been hopeful and appreciative of the angel. Well now he is running out of time and he is getting grumpy and down in the dumps and ready to give up. While Aziraphale is still unrelentingly optimistic. Poly makes an other entrance, Crowley puzzles together an ancient Etruscan pott. All riveting stuff.

Shadwell, or what's left of his character makes a short appearance as 'MAD OLD MAN' shouting and standing on a soap box as set dressing for Crowley to buy a newspaper and... Pay for it . (Honestly I would have not expected HIM to pay for anything)

He gets zapped into hell without notice.

(Side note Miss Ashtoreth is mentioned as secretary of Satan himself.)

Satan wants to check up on his son's progress. Crowley is shitting himself and lies, reassuring Satan that the boy is properly evil and all that . Of course Satan wants to see the boy real soon and tells Crowley to tell the boy that he is ready for when the boy wants to see him. And after taking a look at Adam by rearranging the universe itself to show a likeness in the stars (hell is a very surreal space with an office above the pit and direct view of all of the universe) Crowley gets zapped back to earth. (Also Satan calls Crowley 'Crawler' which is the script version of Crowley's name change, probably)

Crowley Is now properly stressed out.

On the other end of London (probably) Aziraphale's Crowley senses tingle and he just starts running (presumably) towards Crowley. This never gets brought up or explained. And is so bizarre I couldn't skip it.

Back in Tadfield Adam and Pepper get a bit of a bonding moment. Talking about action figures, Pepper giving Adam a lecture about not being sexist , getting fish and chips. The topic of Adams lack of a father gets brought up again and he lies. Telling Pepper he had met his father before and his father is some sort of international business man, that meets with presidents and is very busy. Eventually Pepper asks about Anathema and tries to convince Adam to take her (pepper) to the movies.

Back in London one Angel apparently unable to use public transport arrives at the nightclub. We can assume that he had been running the whole way. He gets pointed towards Crowley by multiple staff members, 'Every day' gets another cameo and he accidentally stumbles into the dressing room for the waiting staff, which is very embarrassing for him but not for the women.

When he reaches Crowley's office, the demon doesn't want to talk. He is panicking and packing to go on the run for the rest of eternity. (Which for him just means a suitcase full of sunglasses) . What follows is the infamous dialogue script!Crowley get his reputation from. (I might make myself very unpopular here but I think that reputation is not quite deserved. Yes he is an asshole but also the harsher exchanges only play out when he is stressed/panicked and usually if he goes too far he will try and paddel back. Still worst of the Crowleys without a doubt just not quite as bad as people like to paint him. Also script!Aziraphale isn't half as naive and helpless as people like to paint him either and in this house we let him have his agency! But also more on that later)

The exchange switches tone once Aziraphale lets his unbreakable optimism fallter and gets sad. To which Crowley immediately reacts bc trying to reassure him that they are in fact friends and that he shouldn't be sorry. Pointing out that he (Crowley) now knows what the boy looks like to counteract Aziraphale's pessimistic statement that they could never have found the boy bc they didn't even know what he looks like. They agree to hit one more town in their search for the boy.

In Tadfield Anathema finally gets to talk about her quest to find the SOMETHING with Madam Tracy. And have her witness a fight between Brian and Adam about Adam's father. (Srly Adam gets constantly bullied bc of that.) Anathema steps between the two to protect Adam. They make a deal to tell each other's secrets. First we get Anathema showing Adam stuff about the antichrist and the weapon she plans on killing him with.

Then we get an intermission with Crowley and Aziraphale discussing how they should choose which town to go to. They decide with a dart throw.

Back with Adam and Anathema. Adam shows Anathema his model of Tadfield. To the question what he plans on doing once that model is done, he tells her, he is going to build the rest of the world and rule over it. He also voices his desire to go somewhere else so he is no longer stuck in Tadfield.

Aziraphale and Crowley arrive in Tadfield during a Thunderstorm and face the same problem as Anathema. No one wants to rent them a room in town. And while with Anathema the whole thing was rooted in sexism, disdain for outsiders (aka read as Americans) and misunderstandings about her occupation, for those two it's the obligatory 'People think they are a gay couple' thing but with a giant side of Homophobia.

Crowley want to give up, Aziraphale want to go on and eventually they end up at Madam Tracy's.

Madam Tracy mistakes them for the gas person, Crowley wants separate rooms, Aziraphale a shared one,(we never get to know which they now took bc the script has both, scenes with a shared room and with a separate rooms. It could also be that Crowley simply stays longer than Aziraphale and therefore the shared room becomes his single room. At any rate it is never specified. And to be honest there are multiple parts of the script where the author very obviously had given up on it , soooo) Crowley praises Aziraphale's skill as homemaker, Madam Tracy tells them, they have to wait for Adam. Adam comes home Crowley recognizes the boy.

Crowley and Aziraphale take a stroll on the beach and come to the agreement that each should spend a day with the boy, despite Crowley trying to avoid having Aziraphale influence the kid. They also witness how Brian's father is getting things set up and ready to tear down the pier.

In the evening they play an other game of checkers. Adam witnessing first hand Crowley's cheating as he gets the both of them to have dinner with the whole house.

At the dinner table they convince Madame Tracey to let them take Adam to London for a day. Adam being obviously overjoyed about the whole thing.

Anathema sees Aziraphale's and Crowley's true nature for a sec. And I am sorry if this part comes across as rather dry, it's also rather dry in the script.

Adam gets taken to London. First Aziraphale get to show him the museum and talk about human creations . (Side note , when I first got my hands on the script I thought I was missing a page bc the dialogue has a really awkward jump in this scene but no ... It's supposed to be like that and either it was the author giving up or it was supposed to be a kid thing. Jumping from one topic to the next with not much logic. We will never know)

Adam then confronts Aziraphale about Crowley's cheating. And here comes the part why I will never see script!Aziraphale as truly naive or helpless. Aziraphale admits to Adam that he had always known Crowley cheated, he just thought it virtuous to not point it out. Bc he played fair and in his mind that was enough to stand above the other and win in a sense and just let him do the cheating. Adam points out how it's stupid, and that was that. Aziraphale is stunned and does what most people with too much money and no idea how to handle kids do, exactly drag him somewhere, where he can buy shit.

Next up is Crowley. First he drags Adam to Soho. Not Good Omens there might be a cozy bookshop somewhere Soho but well 90s it's a bit of a cess pool Soho. With hookers and homeless teenage girls ( and for all those people that take Crowley being displeased with Adam for giving the girl some change as point to call him fundamentally mean/bad... I implore you learn what character motivations are. He has been tasked with raising an evil child, has promised an evil child, obviously he is displeased when that child is doing something selfless. And he wouldn't do something selfless in the presence of said child either bc again he is supposed to influence him towards evil) Crowley then gets him a milkshake and takes him to his club where they have the mirror conversation to Aziraphale's. Ending with Adam pointing out that it is pretty boring to always win for the wins sake by the means of cheating.

On the way back they have a short (also very old couple and married) conversation about their respective experiences with the boy. Accidentally letting it slip that they know who Adam's father is, believing the boy to be asleep. He is not.

That night Anathema finally succeeds in her endeavor of finding the antichrist. Her crystal ball revealing to her that it is indeed Adam. She is so shocked by that, that she lets the ball fall but luckily for her Aziraphale does his thing and it lands safely without breaking. (That another quirk of the script apparently Anathema and Aziraphale were supposed to be something and what ever that is, it's even weirder than Adam and Pepper)

Madam Tracy also finally recognized Crowley from THAT night and they have a honest heart to heart. Or whatever you call it when the otherwise always woozy character suddenly seem lucid and aware of what will happen.

That night Adam goes to Anathema for emotional support bc of the father thing. Anathema however is in the middle of a crisis bc she now knows what Adam is and had tried to get herself ready to murder him but struggles with herself to do it. Eventually Adam notices the knife behind her back and with the first flair of his antichrist powers forces her to show it to him before storming off hurt.

Being emotionally distraught he runs to his hideout on the pier and calls out to his feather. First nothing happens but then after Adam went off the pier and back again it is completely transformed into a bright happy carnival. His Father has arrived. Satan immediately takes Adam under his wings . He even dresses him up as a mini self.

The next morning the whole town of Tadfield is one giant carnival. There is a parade with elephants. And the people from around town are all mindlessly attending the celebration.

Crowley has a short meeting with Satan (on an elephant can't stress that enough) and gets told that he is supposed to come to Satan to talk about his promotion to alpha centauri. AND

( Don't ask me why I find this too funny to not share, my humor is very broken )

The town is being further transformed and more people are made mindless puppets. But now Crowley is happy to have gotten away with his stunt. He is roleplaying flirting with someone in a mirror. (Also in the script notes it literally says James Bond for acting directions for Crowley, and that's such a dorky idea I love the theory of it ... Bit of a waste in this tho).

Aziraphale tries to change his mind but Crowley shuts him down by pointing out that he was the one saying happiness alone is making things a good deed so it shouldn't matter if people have to be made into mindless puppets first. They are happy after all.

Meanwhile Adam is torturing Brian by throwing tomatoes hat him and having the rest of the town join in with the fun. He just wants his father to be proud of him (nawww ) (that naw was sarcastic). In the crowd Anathema is fighting to regain control over herself.

Aziraphale still tries to convince Crowley. Tugging at his heart strings but even the tried and true "I thought we are friends" won't work this time. Crowley wants to seize his opportunity, he wants out and up.

While those two are arguing, Anathema struggles. All she wants it the knife but she is exhausted.

Crowley is looking for a starting point for his launch towards alpha centauri. He is climbing onto a church tower. Behind him Aziraphale still hasn't given up. Despite not liking heights (!? Wasn't mentioned before will not be mentioned again but apparently script!Aziraphale has a fear of heights). He finally gets an idea and challenges Crowley to one last match.

Crowley for once doesn't cheat and it looks like he is about to win but then Aziraphale DOES cheat, desperate to keep Crowley on earth and have him fight at his side. And Crowley just shrugs and accepts. His next line after acknowledging the win already calls Satan his ex-boss and if that is not a very impressive 180° turn then I don't know what is. (Just a throw back to character motivation, we could speculate it's because most of what Crowley has said were lies and half truths and deep down he actually likes earth and bla or he just remembered how much he would miss his nightclub BUT I as number one script!Crowley (not really) defender say ... It's just unfinished/bad writing and there simply wasn't enough time or inspiration or whatever to finish his character ark)

Anathema manages to give both of them the knife. Crowley is so idiotic and tries to grab it but it burns him . I mean, duhh! Anathema literally tells them that this knife can hurt the antichrist why should it be harmless for a way lesser demon? So Aziraphale takes the knife.

After calling Crowley his best friend, Crowley himself calling himself stupid, Aziraphale, presumably (presumably is important here) with the knife, goes off to confront Adam. He tried to talk Adam out of it. Trying to point out that no good father leaves his kid alone for eleven years and if this is really what Adam wants. As he points out that Madam Tracy despite all her flaws still love Adam he gets discorporated, by Adam. But bc this is a Movie script and we don't have much time left he just stays in his true angel form (which is very much just white robes , wings and halo ) right where he is, further trying to talk Adam out of it .

(here is an other line in my mounting pile of evidence that script! Aziraphale is neither naive nor helpless and simply chooses to carry himself that way bc he thinks it's virtuous. He literally acknowledges that people can do bad things. Something he would not do at any point before that in the script. I rest my case )

While Aziraphale is trying to make Adam think about things, Crowley is off confronting Satan, presumably without the knife.

Satan acknowledges that Crowley had lied to him but is still in such a good mood that he still wants to give out the promotion. Even throws in the titel of fiend extraordinar. For a moment it seems like Crowley considers but ultimately he tells Satan that he wants to quit. Satan is not happy about that and after Crowley also pulls out a pink rubber glove and the knife (yhea Crowley had the knife all along , take that continuity or rather scree logic, like not showing how they get a rubber glove is fine, what ever but having the last scene with the knife be the one where it's shown that he can't touch it and Aziraphale had to carry it would have made it feel a bit too deus ex machina.) Satan forces him into half snake form and summens hands that try and drag him back to hell.

Thanks to his already established Crowley senses (probably ) Aziraphale suddenly shows up and charges at Satan. Who in turn is like 'An angel, really? You betrayed me,..' and then roasts Aziraphale to a crisp before destroying the knife .

Adam confronted with a robotic acting madam Tracy, listening to his every command, starts to reflect on his actions. Getting called in by his father to greed the four horsepersons he notices Aziraphale and Crowley.

Adam now faced with all the destruction says: no, I am not doing it. Stan tries to threaten him into obeying but he gets the good old 'You not my dad'. For being a deadbeat for 11 years. Adam then heals Aziraphale and frees Crowley. Now flanked by the two Adam banishes the horseman.

Satan demanding obedience once more, gets reminded by Crowley that he himself once rebelled. And after laughing about that revelation he tells Adam that it was interesting meeting him but as it seemed he wasn't cut out to be a dad. To Crowley he says that he is now banned from hell and to Aziraphale that he should tell his boss, that at least his son (the antichrist) had more guts than his(Jesus and yes the script sadly uses he/him for God).

After Satan vanishes they have to escape a collapsing pier. Noticing too late that Madam Tracy is also still there. Adam ends up releasing her from her trance by calling her mom and telling her that he loves her. Aziraphale ends up saving both of them, flying them to safety on the beach.

At the beach they also meet Anathema, who promises not to kill him, and Pepper . They watch as the pier explodes and burns to the ground. Anathema also has uncomfortable eye contact with Aziraphale while he ripples back into human form . (Don't ask me why it feels uncomfortable, Anathema is described as looking tens while he still full angel and softening once he is human again, so idk)

Apropos Anathema and Aziraphale. The next Morning, he comes to say goodbye and ends up offering a job bc (I forgot to mention it when it happened) Polly, his assistant had a promotion. So he is in search for a new assistant. She end up kissing him on the cheek and calling him angel but in a way where it's ambiguous if she now knows that he is one or if she just thinks he is a good person and something always makes her forget what he really is. At any rate Aziraphale says he had never gotten a kiss on the cheek in six thousand years and knowing a bit about history and cultural practices I am inclined to calling him a liar. But then again this is fiction .... So sure ... Cheek kiss virgin this one.

While that is happening Madam Tracy is asking Crowley if she can keep the boy now . And Crowley reassures her, that after this, no one is going to come for him. He even offers to throw a birthday party for her at his club, all she should do is to just to look after the boy. It's actually a very sweet exchange.

Outside Brian and Adam have a little exchange, Brain trying once more to get to Adam with the father thing. But Adam has no daddy issues anymore. Instead he asks Pepper out to the movies and Brian just tags along without being asked. Where is Wensleydale you asking ? Take your best guess, he was mentioned once said one thing and then fell off the earth. He probably exploded with the pier and nobody even remembers.

With the kids now finally as a group we have the last shot of Aziraphale and Crowley. They are walking along the street , Crowley one stolen apple in hand . Having their talk about good and evil. Accusing each other of being a little bit of a good person (press x to boubt) and just enough of a bastard (oh absolutely). How they both knew the other was cheating all along. And maybe alpha centauri isn't such a good idea after all. You can't even get booze there. The last thing that is said is Aziraphale telling Crowley to 'not start THAT again', after being offered the apple.

I lied one more screenshot bc Every ...it had been for told by the cursed script for ages now. (I am pretty sure it had been in the talks to put go to Every day' even before the script was ordered so that is just a joke)

At any rate I do have to go to work in ....eh three hours ... So I will leave it at the summary for now. I am dyslexic and English mu second language so I am very sorry for all the mistakes I probably made . If someone reblogs this before I get the chance to correct them, let it be said that at least nobody can claim this is ai pfff.

Also not I said the name of the author the two times I mentioned him simply bc I don't feel like acknowledging the name of the person. I got into Gomens bc of Sir Terry and I stay here for him. This little obsession with the shit script happened by pure chance and purely against my will pfff

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Nature vs Nurture part 2 - Good omens.

Summary: Befriending a snake but it turns out to be Crowley and he’s injured.

Warnings: Blood, slight injury, snakes.

Pairing: Humanfem!reader x ineffable husbands (Platonic / Otherwise).

Word count: 2,659.

I didn't wake to my alarm like I did every morning but instead with the feeling of something moving across my bed sheets, half draped over my body. I sat up in shock, looking around in alarm only to find a snake that looked just as shocked as me. I stared for a moment before the previous night began to filter back into my mind and I slumped back onto my pillows, letting myself relax.

"Sorry Precious forgot you were here, I'm so used to being on my own." I greeted the beautiful creature as he slithered up alongside my face and bumped his nose on my outstretched hand. I turned onto my side to face him as he coiled his body beneath him and came to a sit still on my pillow. A yawn broke the soft silence of the room and with a stretch, I sat up and rubbed my hands over my face with a sigh.

"Okie dokie Snakie, what is best to wear for a book shop interview huh?" I knew he couldn't speak but it was better than talking to myself like I usually did. I shuffled over to my wardrobe, dragging open the doors and clicking my tongue in thought. Humming to myself, I pulled out a few items that would be appropriate and laid them on the end of the bed. "Okay so, this black skirt goes well with some tights and kitten heels look cute, I think suspenders would be best with it and a shirt that matches, maybe navy blue, to go with a blazer jacket or" I pulled out a few more things. "These black trousers could be okay with this top and a blazer. What do you think?" I held the skirt and trousers up whilst looking at him and shrugged. "I like the skirt plus I feel it would fit a bookshop pretty well."

His yellow eyes seemed to dart between the two before settling on the skirt and nodding towards it slightly. I grinned at him and placed it on the other side of the bed beside him.

"Now for the top, this navy shirt or the navy scoop neck with long sleeves?" I lifted them both up and down as we decided. "I like the scoop neck but it does come a little low and shows a bit of cleavage. With a blazer, it shouldn't be too bad right?" I decided with a hum of satisfaction before going to my drawers. "Black or blue suspenders?" His head bobbed to the black ones so I chucked them to the bed before smiling and clapping my hands together. "I shall be back soon, don't wander off Precious." I gathered all of my clothes and underwear into my arms before making my way to the bathroom.

As I dressed I couldn't help the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I really needed this job, really wanted it too and couldn't help but worry about the outcome. I smoothed down the skirt with a sigh as I looked at the outfit in the mirror, the items did go well together. After brushing my hair and styling it I nodded to myself and left the bathroom, careful not to slip against the tiles because of the material of my tights.

"I think you have an eye for fashion Precious," I twirled around in front of the snake and grinned, grabbing my chunky heeled oxfords to complete the fit. "Okay, walking won't take long and the earlier the better at this point." It was bordering on 10 AM as I grabbed my blazer and bag, throwing on a clean scarf for good measure. "Right, I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone but I don't think Mr Fell will appreciate me bringing a snake to the shop somehow." His head nodded towards my scarf as he made his way over and I looked at him confused. "Look, you could hide under my scarf around my neck but you'd have to be very still and well-behaved." Seemingly he understood everything else so this couldn't hurt right. "I mean it, best behaviour Precious." I let the reptile slink up around my neck and made sure to cover him carefully with my scarf so it hid him but didn't suffocate him.

"Let's do this," I whispered to him, leaving the apartment and locking the door behind me. The journey was fairly uneventful though the sun did shine for once, even with a slightly chilly breeze around us. I enjoyed the reassuring weight of my new friend around my neck and found myself rearranging the scarf to discreetly pet him every so often. I waved a thank you to a driver as they allowed me to cross the road and looked up at the burgundy building in awe, taking a deep breath before pushing the wooden door open, smiling as the bell tinkled above me.

Nobody was in the shop as the door closed behind me gently and I clutched the strap of my bag as I looked around me. The walls were filled floor to ceiling with books, not as incredibly neat as other shops but this gave it a more warm and homey feeling. A gentle light filled the shop as I wandered between shelves, dodging tables piled with books and chairs placed around the room for shoppers. For a few moments, I totally forgot about the nerves and churning of my stomach whilst being surrounded by my passion until a mess of white curls peered around one of the selves and bright blue eyes met my own. My back straightened instantly and I smiled at them.

"Hi, I'm looking for Mr Fell," My throat was considerably dry as the figure came into view.

"Yes, that's me, it's nice to meet you..." He trailed off slowly.

"Oh right, I'm Y/N. I saw your job listing online and couldn't wait to have a look at your shop." I held out my hand to him, silently thanking the heavens it wasn't sweaty because of nerves. "You didn't specify the date or time so I thought I'd come by and see if you had any preferences." My heart thumped in my chest as his warm hand shook my own, lingering for a second before he clasped them in front of him with a smile.

"Of course my dear, if you just follow me to my desk that'd be great." He wandered off around the corner and with a nod I followed, rearranging my scarf as the snake beneath shifted slightly. "Take a seat wherever you'd like dear girl." I did as he said, smoothing down my skirt and placing my bag down by my feet before allowing my eyes to meet his. "So, have you ever worked in a bookshop before?"

"Not quite, but before moving here I spent so much time in one that I was practically part of the furniture." I joked, relaxing as he chuckled.

"They are the most relaxing places to be so that's understandable. My shop is quite big, how well do you think you could memorise genres and where they go?"

"My memory can get a little muddled but once I get used to things then I can be as reliable as a contents page in a book so I think I'd do pretty well." I was being entirely honest here, something told me he'd be able to tell if I bent the truth even a little.

"That's quite alright, I understand these things take time." His eyes caught on my scarf for a second as my stowaway shifted. I bit my lip hoping he would let it go. "I'm sorry, Your scarf seems to be moving on its own accord. Is there something under it?" I couldn't tell whether he was annoyed or confused but I held my breath and nodded stiffly.

"I had a bit of a surprise on the way home last night and was a bit troubled because I don't have the facilities to leave him alone," I explained, unravelling the garment from around my neck to reveal the red and black snake beneath. "I'm really sorry I brought him with me but I couldn't leave him unattended plus he's well-behaved, usually." His shining blue eyes met the snake's calmly as he held out his hand slightly.

"There you are my dearest, honestly, I leave you for five minutes and you go missing. Do you know how worried I was?" My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he spoke to the reptile, a tone of irritation in his voice though it was minor.

"He's yours?" I couldn't help but feel my heart and stomach sink at the idea of him having an owner already.

"You could say that, he's quite the demon." The snake seemed to hiss in amusement at what seemed like an inside joke and I nodded sadly. "Where did you find him, if you don't mind my asking?"

"In the park, you ought to know he has a wound on the underside of his belly and though I cleaned it, and please don't think I'm crazy, he refused the vets entirely. Going as far as lunging at me for trying to push the idea." The man in front of me seemed to nod in agreement and didn't judge me, holding out his hands to take him.

"Yes, that sounds very much like him. He's a stubborn soul." He lifted the animal and tutted as he saw the wound, visibly upset by it. "What on earth happened? Why haven't you taken care of yourself." The way he spoke seemed like he was expecting an answer and I couldn't help but be unsure and confused. "Please go and fix yourself so we can talk about this properly my dear boy. You have some explaining to do." Within seconds, the snake was placed on the floor and wriggled away, leaving the two of us amongst the books. "Sorry about that dear, I'm sure you're quite confused by the whole ordeal."

"A little, he's very intelligent for a snake. I didn't realise he was someone's pet, sorry about this." I twisted my hands in the fabric of my skirt.

"Who are you calling a pet?" A new face appeared beside the bookshelf, a lean body resting against the shelves. I jumped in surprise and smiled at the stranger.

"Sorry, I didn't realise there was anyone else here. I'm Y/N, do you work here too?" I shook the man's hand, still shaken by the previous occurrence.

"Crowley and nope," He threw himself on the sofa beside Mr Fell, wincing slightly as he sat himself up. "I just enjoy the company." He grinned widely at the other man, straightening his sunglasses. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question." His hand held his stomach for a second before he shifted.

"Mr Fell has a snake that went missing, I found him and was just saying that I didn't realise he was someone's pet."

"Oh, he's not, if anything he's the snake's pet," I looked at him in confusion, hoping for elaboration as Mr Fell shook his head at Crowley. "Aren't you Angel?" My eyes flickered between the two for a moment, cheeks flushing as I realised they must be together or at least dancing around one another with the way they interacted. The two noticed my state of befuddlement and grinned at one another. "I do like the name Precious though. Wouldn't mind that as a nickname when you're working here." His head tilted towards me as he slipped off the sunglasses and looked me straight in the eyes.

My brain seemed to short-circuit as the same eyes the snake had looked at me, a huge grin spreading across his face. I opened my mouth to speak but quickly closed it when words failed to form. This happened a few times before I gave up, settling for just sitting and staring at the lean man. I mean stranger things have happened, right?

"Are you alright dear?" Mr Fell leant forward in his seat as I blinked at him blankly. "I fear you've broken her Crowley, you could've been gentler with her."

"She'll snap soon Angel, she was talking to a snake for Satan's sake, this can't be that strange to her if I pointed her in the direction of your shop and she proceeded to listen." I nodded slowly, he did make sense after all.

"So," I took a deep breath, pursing my lips for a moment. "You're telling me you're the snake that I found in the park that can just miraculously turn from snake to human-"

"Not quite human Darling, more like a demonic entity if you'd be so kind."

"Okay, snake to demon then. And you expect me not to freak out right?" I was taking this better than expected. "Maybe, I could just have a glass of water please Mr Fell." My clammy hands gripped my skirt as I cleared my throat, huffing out a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding.

"Of course, dear, give us a moment." The two disappeared from the sofa, talking amongst each other.

"Come on Angel, she's alone and we'd be doing her and ourselves a favour." The way he pleaded made him seem almost human.

"That's all good and well dearest but look at her, she's obviously in shock by the situation. If you were human you'd be the same, Y/N had just found out you are a demon, turn into a snake and has probably guessed I'm an angel by now so do give her some time." My eyes came back into focus as the glass of water was held out in front of me and within seconds the liquid was gone and I gasped a breath. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you. I have no idea how any of this works obviously but I guess it is what it is. I'm sorry I called you a pet and also sorry for almost keeping him, he's quite charming as a snake." The two chuckled before Crowley seemed to catch onto what I said.

"Hang on, I'm charming anyway."

"Yes well, it seems you have some new things to get used to but as a thank you and just because you seem overall quite perfect for the job, you can start anytime within the next week. It's up to you if you still want the job of course." The angel seemed to be hesitant as he waited for a reply, comforted by the dark-haired demon that had his arm resting on the back of the couch behind him.

"I mean, I'd still love the job, I just ask I get a few explanations and answers to questions if and when I have them if you don't mind Mr Fell." I couldn't work out why this hadn't set off alarms in my head but in all honesty, I was very curious about the pair.

"That sounds wonderful dear, it'll be lovely having a new face here with us and it's Aziraphale, Mr Fell is just a cover-up name for the shop." That made sense. The smile on his face made me smile back as I stood up, followed by them both. "There isn't a dress code either as long as it's comfortable and appropriate."

"In case you have any questions that can't wait." Crowley held out a piece of paper with his number on and I took it with a smile. "Don't hesitate to message or ring us." He winked, the glow of his eyes only brightened by the warm light of the room and I nodded, trying to hide the creeping blush on my face.

"Well, I'd better get going, I'll see you both tomorrow then." And with that and a call of goodbye from the pair I left the shop, bell tinkling above me once more, leaving me to the onslaught of thoughts and questions on the two strange beings.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making a pizza?

I know this is going to sound ridiculous and at this point I don’t care if anyone believes me. I just need to get my head on straight here because I’m starting to feel like a crazy person.

So I (19F) am staying with my parents and my younger sibling (14NB) for the summer. I’ve always liked to cook but I’ve been getting even more into it lately. I decided I wanted to try making a margherita pizza and I went out and got the ingredients myself.

Here’s the problem. My sibling is completely obsessed with that gay Neil Gaimen show Good Omens. Like, they’re so obsessed I think they should get tested for autism or adhd (this isn’t the only reason) but my mom won’t take them. Season two just came out and the ending was a sad cliffhanger or something akin to that. If you don’t know it’s about an angel guy and a demon guy and one of them has red hair.

Well ever since my sibling saw it they start freaking out and crying whenever they see the color red or anything else that reminds them of it. At first I thought they were just being dramatic on purpose but I don’t even know anymore. I had to stop wearing any red clothes in front of them because my mom kept yelling at me to not set them off.

You probably see where this is going. My sibling came into the kitchen when I was taking out the pizza. They asked what I was making and when they saw the tomato sauce they immediately starting freaking out. They kept asking why I would do this to them and I said I didn’t even know they were home (I really didn’t) and we couldn’t all live avoiding a whole color for the rest of our lives. I told them to stop being so dramatic and it’s only a show.

They told me it wasn’t just a show, that I would never understand and asked me if I was homophobic (???) before my mom showed up and scolded me for setting off my sibling. I told her she was being an idiot (I know I’m the asshole for this but I was really fed up) and she told me to go to my room. I could hear my sibling freaking out in the kitchen for a while after and I do feel kind of bad because they sounded really upset.

Later my mom brought me the pizza in my room and she told me not to do that again. I told her I was sorry for calling her an idiot and for upsetting my sibling but I still think the whole thing is crazy. Now my sibling is avoiding me and watching the show really loud on the living room tv like it’s meant to spite me or something?? They called me in just to watch a scene where the guys were kissing and my sibling had a really smug look on their face. Jokes on them though I’m not homophobic. I literally have a girlfriend but whatever.

AITA?

(Please don’t talk bad about my sibling in the comments. They’re actually pretty normal outside of this and a couple other minor things and they’re really young )

What are these acronyms?

[magpie-come-east]

Also Hornsent grandam for the ask meme because she’s cute and deserves more love

favorite thing about them

Frankly I love everything about her. I love her design. I love her dialogue. I love that she is initially hostile but softens up as the story progresses. I love, even then, she never actually trusts the player wholly (she thinks you are a Sculpted Keeper, that's why she loosens up). Despite her sharp tongue and stinging condemnation, she shows over and over that there is a loving old grandma buried beneath the ash laid during the war. She's old. She's been watching her friends and family die all her life. She's watched her way of life slowly go extinct. But she faces the player with dignity. She makes soup with love. She tells the player to take a nap. She tells you to beat Messmer's ass.

least favorite thing about them

This is a petty detail, but it kinda bugs me that she says 'by the look of thee, another of Messmer's peons, methinks' about the player. Then later when the player wears the Divine Beast Dancing Lion mask, she mistakes them for a Sculpted Keeper because of their smell. I believe her horns made her blind, hence her recognition by scent later. But at the beginning they make it seem like she is still sighted. It feels like a minor oversight, but it bothered me haha.

But Gramma is perfect otherwise!

favorite line

"For what reason dost thou falter, villain? Enact thy sordid work with fullest pride. Else tuck away thy tail and leave for good. Loathsome issue of the rotten strumpet."

These lines are just so badass. She is an old woman 'looking' her would-be assassin in the eye and saying 'Do it, coward. You won't.' With a couple of lines we can see what a strong and proud woman she is. She fully expects to die, not understanding a Tarnished is not an agent of Messmer. But she refuses to be humiliated or cowed.

"I cannot presume thou didst not suffer... Please, I ask thee, allow thyself some rest. None of the tower would dare interfere. And if one should, I'll see to them myself!"

I also love this one. Once she lets her guard down she really is just a grandma. She is glad that Messmer is dead. But more than that, she is concerned about you. It's genuinely sweet.

brOTP

I think all the Horned Warriors love her. She bosses them around and they all crave her praise. Like I said, she's a Grandma.

I also feel like her and the Omen Twins would get along eventually. She'd bust their balls so hard, and they'd bite back just as hard.

OTP

I don't actively ship her with anyone. But since she grants the player the spirit of her own son to guard them, she probably had a partner at some point. Someone who likely isn't around anymore either ;;

nOTP

She wouldn't be caught DEAD with a non-hornsent lover lol

random headcanon

The Grandam is a respected leader in Belurat. Not because she was elected to or inherited any great position. But because she is one of the few elders of her clan that remembers the cultural practices that Messmer's armies are stomping out. Even the hornsent people call her Grandam because she's basically a grandmother to them all.

unpopular opinion

Hornsent Grandam isn't mean. If her 'rude' lines were given to Messmer to say ya'll (general) would be lapping it up. To be honest, I don't think most people dislike her, so this isn't really an 'unpopular' opinion. But all criticisms I see about her character are immensely bad faith. She's not 'fuckable' (ie, she's actually elderly) and a woman. So she must necessarily be dunked on to prop up the mediocre man that is her enemy.

song i associate with them

I dunno the Cult of the Lamb soundtrack.

Genius of Love - Tom Tom Club

[babyhedonistt]

Too Close to Touch // THREE

Warning: Smut, violence, swearing,

Jolly plopped himself on the bed, scrolling through his phone while Ruffilo sat next to him. Brushing his hair while watching a youtube video on his phone in his lap. Noah was in the shower. He had been in there for over an hour and the two boys were beginning to wonder the activities that were happening 5 feet from their bed.  You resided in the room next to them. You would be caught dead before you shared a room with three boys.

“Did he tell you?” Jolly inquired looking up at Ruffilo. “Tell me what?” He replied, setting his hairbrush down as he threw his hair in a messy bun. Jolly takes out his phone, the brightness illuminating his face in the dim light of the room and hands it to Ruffilo. His eyebrows crease as his eyes scanned the phone.

Lead singer Noah Sebastian of the metal band Bad Omens accused of plagiarism with latest hit ‘ Just Pretend ‘.

Ruffilo is quiet for a few seconds before a long sigh leaves his mouth and his eyes meet Jolly’s. “I didn’t hear anything about this. Does Noah and Folio know?” He asks calmly. Jolly nods. “I found it off his phone. Conversation between him and Y/N when I snatched it from his hands. Didn’t mean to look at it but I saw it.”

“So Y/N knows? That must be what they were talking about when they were in the dressing room.” Ruffilo clarifies and Jolly nods in agreement. “You think Matt knows?” He added and Ruffilo shrugs. “I don’t know how he wouldn’t. I’ll text him right now to come to the room.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t deal with this right now, Nick. It’s late and- “

“I already sent the message.” Ruffilo sighs turning off his phone before the bathroom door opens and Noah steps out, wearing a towel around his waist, his hair messy and wet and steam spilling out of the bathroom.

Nick Ruffilo could be serious when needed, but when he is, he isn’t one to be around. He looks over at Noah and clears his throat. “So be real Noah, when were you gonna tell me about this one?” Ruffilo holds up his phone tilting his head.

Noah rolls his eyes as he picks out his clothes to wear to bed, “Nick, it’s not that deep.” He says, not even looking at him. “Does Matt know at least?” Nick sighs, his legs off the side of the bed, facing Noah.

“I don’t know.”

“This is what you and Y/N were talking about earlier yeah?” Jolly chimes in with a scoff. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this, Jolly.” Noah says, standing up straight, pulling a t-shirt over his head and crossing his arms. “I never said she did dude. I’m just asking if that’s what you guys were talking about.” He explains.

A knock sounds on the door. Ruffilo stands up and walks over, opening the door revealing the band’s manager Matt. “What the hell did you guys wake me up for?” He groans. His disheveled hair was hidden under a beanie and he rubbed the tiredness from his eyes, while his other hand was tucked in his sweatpants pocket.

Ruffilo closes the door behind Matt before sitting back on the bed beside Jolly. “Why don’t you tell him, Noah? Since you want to tell Y/N everything except your own bandmates.” Ruffilo said, pointing his chin at Noah. “What about? The plagiarism accusations? I know all about it.” Matt shrugs. Noah shows no change in his emotions as Ruffilo and Jolly wait for clarification. “I’m handling it, guys. If I thought, it was serious I would have told you when it happened.”

Jolly’s demeanor seems to change but Ruffilo wasn’t convinced. “Ever since Folio got injured, our communication has been shitty as hell.” He complains. Noah scoffs. “It’s not always going to be perfect Nick.”

“No, but it’s unprofessional as fuck, especially you.” He points at Noah. “We’ve been best friends before this band was even formed and I come to find out you tell Folio’s SISTER about an incident effecting OUR band before Jolly or myself.” He scolds him.

“They’ve known each other as long as you two have Nick.” Jolly adds.

“Still. She looks like she wants to kill him half the time. Their relationship doesn’t make sense.” Ruffilo rolls his eyes. Noah opens his mouth to retaliate before Matt holds up his hand. “There’s no relationship between Noah and Y/N that isn’t professional, okay? She won’t be on the tour much longer so can all of you suck this shit up for two more shows? Please?”

“Folio and myself seem to be the only two people that don’t have an issue with her.” Jolly claims. “It’s not that I have an issue with her! It just seems like Noah can’t ever focus or pull the stick out of his ass whenever she’s around.” Ruffilo’s hand falls on his thigh with an audible slap. “Well that’s Noah’s problem. Never been a fan of change.” Matt shoots a glare in Noah’s direction. “This doesn’t even involve her, all the plagiarism shit.” Noah says, his eyes glues to his hands, in which he was picking the black nail polish off his fingernails.

“Yeah, THAT might not involve her. But shit is gonna get out about you two the longer she is in this band.” Ruffilo claims. “Nick, that’s not—“ Jolly starts.

“I haven’t said a word.” Noah spits at his best friend.

“Neither has she but it may as well be written across your forehead in sharpie with the tension between the two of you.”

“Nick, take a walk.” Matt holds up his hands to stop him. Noah’s jaw tightens at his comment. Ruffilo gets off the bed and opens the door to the hotel room, walking down the hallway with rage fuming from his ears. Jolly sighs, standing up from the bed. “I’ll go stay with him.” He says, bowing out of the room. Matt walks over to the door, closing it and turning back to Noah, who may has well have had guilt written on his face.

“You and I have to revisit that NDA between you and Y/N, Noah.”

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

To be continuedd

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier @timid-raccoon @xxkittenkissesxx

A/N: I just want to apologize for the delay. I really lost my motivation there for a while, but you all deserve an update. Love you all 🖤

Braxton Hicks.

After a very much panicked phone call with my doctor, we were able to determine that the pain I had been feeling was, in fact, false labor. Thank God.

Still, she insisted that I take things easy from here on out—not necessarily total bed rest, but to not be on my feet for any extended periods. There was no way I'd be able to stay off my feet while at the bakery, so that meant that I had to leave the bakery in the hands of Juliana earlier than we had originally planned. Which wasn't a problem per se, but I would've liked to have helped her prepare more than I had been able to.

I tossed my phone down beside me on the mattress with a huff after letting Jules know the new and unexpected plan. She said that it wasn't a problem and that she could handle it, but there was a hesitancy in her voice that told me otherwise. I had no choice but to take her word for it; there wasn't anything that I could do at this point. What the doctor said, goes—Noah wouldn't let me do anything otherwise.

I closed my eyes and ran a hand down my belly with a deep exhale, hoping to shut out the stress from today. I feel him kick against my palm, and it brings a subtle smile to my face. There wasn't anything to worry about. The baby is okay, I'm okay, the bakery will be just fine.

"How are we doing?" Noah asks, quietly entering our bedroom. "We're fine," I answer, opening my eyes to the mess that was my husband. "What the hell happened to you?" I snort, taking note of the light blue he was now sporting on nearly his whole left arm. The longer I stared, the more paint I noticed had accumulated on him. It was splattered across the front of his pants, a good portion of the left side of his shirt, across his face, and even in his hair. "Did a bomb go off while you were painting?"

He glances down at himself, his eyebrows rising in surprise as if he hadn't even noticed he was practically turning into a Smurf. Pink skirts across his cheeks, a bashful chuckle sounding from him as he brings his attention back to me. "Yeah, about that..." he trails off, shaking his head. "I finished painting the room." "Are you sure? Cuz I think you're wearing most of the paint," I tease, pushing myself up into a sitting position. "Yes, I'm sure." He rolls his eyes, "Come see for yourself."

He offers me his clean hand, pulling me to my feet and guiding me to the baby's room. I gasped upon entering, a smile spreading on my face; the walls were pristine, evenly painted, leaving only the painter's tape over the trim as the paint dried.

My eyes flicker to the still-tarped floor, catching a mess of baby blue around the roller pan that was now misshapen. I glanced between the pan and Noah's coated arm before quirking a brow up at him, finally putting two and two together.

"What happened here?" I flashed him a knowing grin, folding my arms over my chest and cocking my head towards the spill. He shrugged before simply stating, "I tripped." "And took a bath in the paint, it seems," I giggled. He rolls his eyes again, draping his right arm over my shoulders and pulling me towards him. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad." He plants a brief kiss atop my head. I snort, leaning into him and wrapping my arm around his back. "Whatever you say, Papa Smurf." "I think you mean Daddy Smurf," he humors, a hint of sultry in his voice as he brings me in front of him and waggles his brows at me. I snort, shaking my head at him. "You did not just say that." "Oh, I so did," he teases before planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

I swat my hands at him and he laughs, pecking my face a few more times before letting me go. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me from his playfulness and smiled as I stood on my toes, giving him one last kiss before turning to admire the room once again.

"The room really came out great, Noah," I tell him truthfully. "Thank you." He sidles up behind me, running his hands up and down my arms. "Why are you thanking me? It was a joint effort, Liv." I shrug. "You've done so much. You put together the furniture and finished the walls without me." "You're 8 months pregnant," he chuckles lightly. "I'm not making you do all of that. And before you say it, I know I was a dick about it earlier, and I'm still sorry about that. I was just frustrated—" "I know, Noah. I know." I lean into him as he wraps his arms around my shoulders, holding me to him. "Just let me thank you for all that you do, okay?" "Okay," he agrees quietly, kissing the back of my head.

We stayed like this for a moment or two as I envisioned how the room would look once the walls were dry and things were put into place. A smile graces my lips, picturing the white bookshelf filled with children's books, the nightstand with a small lamp, the lampshade peppered with clouds, and a hot air balloon to match the wall decal we'd eventually put up. The crib with blue and white bedding that will soon house our son, the wall behind it soon bearing his name and a picture of him as a newborn. Stuffed animals galore, and a rocking chair in the corner for when we read him bedtime stories.

God, I couldn't fucking wait.

-

"Seriously?" I shout, slamming the hardcover book in my hands shut, the sound carrying through our much-too-quiet living room. "You okay?" Noah pokes his head out from the kitchen, one eyebrow perched in curiosity. "No," I grumble, holding up the book with one hand and shaking it with agitation. "That's how this ends?!" Both his brows shoot up in surprise, though his expression quickly melts into a knowing smirk when he sees that I'm holding his copy of Iron Flame. "Told ya," he chuckles, returning to whatever task he had in the kitchen. "This is some bullshit! Now I gotta wait months to know what fucking happens!"

I hear him laugh as I toss the book onto the side table next to me, adding it to the ever-growing collection of books I've read in the past three weeks. I huff, throwing my head back against the couch and folding my arms across my chest as I fester in what was admittedly unnecessary anger.

"Here, I made you some lunch," Noah says as he joins me in the living room. He holds out a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and a pickle spear, with which I do nothing but stare at it. "I'm not hungry," I mumble, setting my jaw and looking forward. He snorts. "Are you really that mad?" He asks, lowering his arms. "Yes," I pout. "It's just a book, Liv. You've gotta eat," he tells me and balances the plate atop my belly.

I blink at the food in front of me, appalled that he actually just put it on my stomach as if it's some sort of fucking table, before slowly bringing my gaze to Noah. He flashes me a cheeky grin, clearly pleased with himself, and my blood starts to simmer.

It's been three weeks of nothing but sitting on my ass and reading, three weeks without going into the bakery, three weeks of Noah coddling me as if I'm broken and not just pregnant, and it was starting to get under my skin.

"Really?" I snap at him. He cringes apologetically, taking the plate back into his possession. "Sorry, I was just trying to make you laugh." "Using him as a table isn't going to make me fucking laugh, Noah." I palm the cushions beside me, pushing myself off the couch and brushing past him, headed down the hallway. "Liv, wait," he sighs, trailing after me.

I reach our bedroom, immediately rummaging through my bureau for a change of clothes—I needed out of these pajamas, and out of this damn house.

After throwing what seemed to be half my wardrobe across the room, I held up a sundress that I hadn't worn since last year and stared at it, wondering if it would still fit. It was flowy enough that it should, theoretically, fit right over my bump and hit my knees. I shrugged, laying it out on the bed, and began stripping out of my PJs.

I slipped the sunflower-clad fabric over my head, wriggling and tugging at the sides to manipulate it into place. It was a little snug around my chest, forcing my breasts together and accentuating my cleavage, but it did fit exactly how I imagined it would around my belly, settling right above the knee.

"Liv, what are you doing?" "Going out," I answer Noah curtly, slipping on a pair of tennis shoes. I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I walk to our closet, digging out a shoulder bag. "Oh... Well, where are you going?" I shrug. "Not sure. Maybe the beach," I tell him as I retreat from the closet, placing a sunhat on my head. "I just need to get out." "Let me take you, then. I don't think you should walk all the way—"

I let out a groan, throwing my head back in aggravation. The hat tumbles from its seat, landing behind me, and I sigh harshly as I begin to squat to retrieve it. Noah beats me to it, picking it up and placing it back on my head. He runs a hand down my shoulder, earning my gaze, and I see his eyebrows are pulled together, creased with concern. "Why are you so mad, Olivia? It's just a book," he all but whispers.

Again, I sigh, my eyes closing as my shoulders slump. "It's not really about the book, that's just an excuse," I mumble, shaking my head at myself. "I'm just cooped up, sitting around doing nothing. And when I do get up to do something, you're there in a heartbeat and won't let me do whatever it is I got up to do. I feel like a ticking timebomb," I scoff incredulously, bringing my gaze back to his. "Just waiting around til he's ready to come out. And then the ending of the book, knowing I have to wait for the next one to get published—it tipped me off. All I'm doing is waiting, Noah. At least let me do something while I wait."

"I—" His lips part, but he remains silent. I can practically see the gears turning in his head as his eyes bounce between mine. "I'm sorry, Liv," he sighs. "I didn't want you overdoing it after what happened." "Can't overdo something I'm not doing," I mutter. "Just let me do something. Anything. Please." "Okay," he agrees quietly with a quick bob of his head. I give him a soft smile. "Okay."

-

With my shoes in one hand and Noah's hand in the other, we leisurely strolled our way across the shoreline. The sun kissed my skin as the tide rolled over our bare feet and the oceanic breeze coasted by, my hair and dress caught in its path. Gulls cried overhead and children laughed as they played about in the sand, building sandcastles and digging trenches. I let out a content sigh, a grin spreading across my face as peace washed over me.

This was exactly what I needed.

Fresh air and sand beneath my toes; no air conditioning and no book in my face.

Noah gives my hand a rhythmic squeeze, and I look up at him. He's squinting, his eyes extra crinkled at the outer corners because he neglected to grab a hat and sunglasses, but he's smiling down at me. I couldn't help but giggle, and placed a kiss against his upper arm before resting my head against him as we carried on.

"Are you having a good time?" he asks, giving my hand another squeeze. "The best," I tell him, returning his squeeze. "I'm sorry for how I acted earlier." "I guess you could say you were a little...crabby... earlier, but it's okay, I forgive you."

I halted, the hand that Noah was holding rising as he continued to walk without noticing I had stopped. He turns when our arms tug against one another, and I shake my head at him, processing his poor joke.

"Get it? Crabby cuz, ya know, we're at the beach and there are crabs at the beach." "You are such a dumbass," I say with a chuckle. "What? I gotta get these dad jokes down sooner or later," he snickers. I roll my eyes. "I'd say you got them down pat." "Yeah?" He smirks when I nod. "Well that's good, he'll be here any day now." I smile down at my belly. "Any day now."

|Chapter 27|

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 2

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

NOW PLAYING: TEARS OF A CLOWN - IRON MAIDEN

I walked up to Sam and Dean, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry ‘bout your dad. I’ve got my clothes in here, so I’ll change quickly.” 

“Alright.” Dean opened the door to my car, giving me a wink. “Sam and I’ll block the windows.” I climbed into it, putting on a black dress and heels before getting out. 

Dean whistled. “Lookin’ pretty, Beanie.” 

“Beanie?” I raised an eyebrow, and so did Sam. 

“She wears a beanie. Beanies are adorable and so is she. So I’m callin’ her Beanie.” 

“I can’t win.” I groaned. “Let’s just go, you don’t want to be late.” 

“Yeah, we don’t.” Sam scowled at Dean as we got back into the car, Dean punished by sitting in the backseat while I rode shotgun. 

“I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. Like I’m some bad omen.” I frowned, but was waved off by Sam. 

“No, no. If anything, you helped.” 

“You saved my life, Beanie, I owe you a lot for that.” Dean piped up.

“Will you stop calling me Beanie?” I asked, hopeful. 

“No chance.” 

“Worth a shot.” We spent the rest of the road in silence until we pulled up at a location with everyone dressed in black, and there was a funeral pyre. This was John Winchester’s funeral. I, at first, insisted on not going, but Sam and Dean insisted that I’d come along. I stood in silence, thanking the stars that the second funeral I’d been to had been without my empathic abilities. I couldn’t feel anything, and it was bliss. 

“Before he.. before, did he say anything to you? About anything?” Sam asked Dean, who looked down. 

“No.. no. Nothing.” He replied monotonously, and I looked between the two before enjoying the absence of overwhelming emotions.

Sam nudged me, taking me out of my thoughts. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just in thought.” I replied quietly, watching the pyre burn. 

“I-I can’t take much more of this.” Dean groaned, walking off. We followed him to the Impala, where he handed me my clothes, so I went to the nearest bathroom and changed, coming back out while fixing my scarf. 

“Alright, what now?” I asked, fixing my hair. 

“Home?” Dean shrugged. “Though I need to get my Impala.” 

“Let’s take my car, then, and spend a bit at my place before we get your car.” I offered. “Then we can tow the Impala out to my house. I’ve got quite a few tools there you can use.” 

“Sounds like a privilege, Beanie.” Dean grinned to Sam, going shotgun. “See? I knew we should’ve kept her with us.” 

“Thanks, Ivonne.” Sam whispered in my ear, and I patted his shoulder. 

“Please.” I scoffed. “You two are helping me live. Lunch is an understatement.” I opened my car door, getting in. “There’s a good cafe where I can get us lunch. Wanna make a pit stop there?” 

“That would be good, yeah.” Sam nodded. I put my foot down on the pedal, playing music while I drove. 

“Got some water?” Dean asked, so I gave him a fresh bottle from the side pocket. He sipped it intently. “I love a girl who can drive-“

”Drink your water.” I laughed, turning the wheel while Sam snickered in the back. 

“Tell him, Ivonne.” He grinned. “He needs it.” 

“Sammy, be nice.” Dean chastised playfully, then turned to me. “When did you start hunting?”

”As soon as I developed magic abilities, which was at 19.” I replied. “Roommate of mine had a vengeful spirit after them. Conveniently, they showed up so I could destroy it.” 

“Sounds like a ride.” Sam commented. 

“You have no idea.” I laughed. I pulled up at a cafe, parking quickly. I checked myself in the mirror quickly, arranging my hair to look, well, better. 

“Who’re you preening for?” Dean scoffed, re-popping his collar and sorting out his hair.

“Who’re you preening for?” I retorted. 

“I asked first. Is there a guy in there?” 

“Hot barista.” I grinned, taking out a lip gloss and applying it. “He went to my high school.” I opened the car door, getting out and both of them following suit.

“So you’re taken?” Dean joked. 

“Dean.” Sam groaned.

“It’s a serious question!” 

“Hopefully I will be.” I teased. “Maybe then you’ll get off my back.” 

“Kind of hard to do, sweetheart.” Dean winked, giving me the fifth once-over of the day. We went into the cafe, and the barista at the counter smirked once he saw me. His name was Alex, and he had messy brown hair with startling blue eyes, and he was visibly well-built. I walked over to the counter, and he chuckled. 

“Ivonne… Hazel… Rainer.” He laughed. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you.” 

“Alex Wilde.” I smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

I heard some movement behind me, and Alex’s eyes flickered to Dean and Sam. “Who’re these two? Bodyguards?” 

He hit the nail on the head. I giggled, shaking my head. “I wish I was famous enough for bodyguards. This is Sam and Dean.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Sam shook Alex’s hand. “I’m Sam.” 

“And I’m Dean.” Dean also shook Alex’s hand, a small smirk on his face. 

“Alex.” Alex grinned, then turned to me. “Your usual?” 

“You know it.” I smiled. 

“And you guys?” 

“I’ll take a latte.” Sam spoke up. 

“I’ll have what the lady’s having.” Dean nodded to me, flashing his signature smirk again. 

“Alright, I’ll get that to y’all.” Alex nodded, and we sat down. Dean raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he nodded towards Alex.

“Him? Really?” 

“Yes, him.” I shot back. 

“He seems nice.” Sam contradicted. 

“Exactly!” 

“Seems like a wimp.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Dean, be nice.” Sam chastised. 

“I’m saying that Beanie can do better than a barista.” 

“A hot barista.” I retorted. 

“You can’t argue with that logic.” Sam whistled. 

Dean just shook his head.

I opened the door to my house, letting the boys in and taking off my shoes.

“Sweet joint.” Dean praised while Sam picked up salt from the edge of the room. 

“This is where you got your powers taken from you, right?” He deduced, and I nodded, then turned to Dean, who was about to head to the kitchen. I snapped my fingers. 

“Hey, ay, ay!” I called, getting his attention. “Shoes off past that point.” 

“Really?” He groaned, turning to me. 

“Shoes. Off.” I glared at him for a moment, then he conceded, taking his shoes off. Sam did too for good measure, both of them lining it up neatly. I took a piece of paper, writing on it then sticking it above the doorway. 

SHOES OFF PAST THIS POINT IF YOU WANNA LIVE :)

- Ivy

”Really, Beanie?” Dean grimaced. “It’s that necessary?” 

“My house, my rules.” 

“My shoes, my rules.” 

“My house is bigger and more expensive.” I mimicked a mic drop, “I’ve got two spare bedrooms so you boys don’t have to suffer sharing the same bed. Settle down, and after a week we’ll go to the impound.” 

“Who put you in charge?” Dean argued. 

“Common sense did.” I replied smoothly as I walked into the kitchen.

”I gotta say,” Sam quipped, “I agree with common sense.” Dean narrowed his eyes. 

“Which side are you on?!”

We were forward a week, and we’d reached the impound where Dean’s car was stationed. It looked, well, better than before, and Sam was awkwardly standing over him. I think that the prospect of John’s death really hit Dean like a bullet train, because he got grumpier and grumpier as the week went. I guess the momentary laughs were just denial. 

“How's the car coming along?” Sam asked, looking down on Dean’s legs, which were the only thing you could see with his torso under the car. 

“Slow.” Dean replied coldly. Ouch.

”Yeah? Need any help?” 

“What?” He laughed. “You, under a hood? I’ll pass.” 

“Need anything else, then?” 

“Stop it, Sam.” Dean pushed himself out from under the car, looking agitated. Something seemed to pull a nerve there.

”Stop what?” Sam asked, looking confused. 

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise.” 

“All right, Dean, it's just... We've been at Ivonne’s for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once.”

”You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.” Dean scoffed. I frowned, folding my arms. 

“Don't patronise me, Dean, Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.” Sam pleaded.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car.” 

“Revenge, huh?” Dean nodded sceptically, jaw ticking. 

“Yeah.” 

“Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car-“

“Just shut the hell up!” I burst out, slapping my forehead. “I’ve had enough of this, I really have. The tension here is thick enough for me to take a knife and stab right through it. Sam, reflect. Dean, we need to talk.” I took Dean by the collar, dragging him away from Sam while he feebly protested. 

“Hey, hey, watch the collar!” He finally swatted my hand away, popping his collar again and then folding his arms. “What?” 

“You need to cut the attitude, cause you’re acting like a douche.” I frowned, folding my own. “Your dad died-“ 

“Yeah, my dad died. What about it?” 

“You’re acting strong, Dean.” I sighed. “You’re a stubborn person, I know that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurting. But so is your brother.” 

Dean scoffed, “I’m not hurting-“ 

“Yes, you are.” I insisted, raising my eyebrows. “It’s so obvious and I know it’s hard to deal, but you can’t shut Sam out like that. He needs your help, even if you don’t realise it.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Dean’s eyes narrowed and suddenly I had no voice. I looked down, remaining silent, and he gently took my shoulders, bending down and trying to get me to look at him. “Who died, Ivonne? Talk to me.”

“It’s not important.” I muttered, then turned and walked over to Sam. “He’s gonna be better, I think.” 

“Thanks, Ivonne, I…” Sam paused for a moment, “I’ve just never seen him like this and it’s scaring me a bit.” 

“I don’t blame you.” I sighed. “He’s acting up and it’s not okay, but he’s visibly hurt by this. I’m gonna try and be there for him and so should you. Even if he doesn’t let you.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“So,” I spread my arms, “bring it in.” He hugged me tightly, and I patted his back. “It’s gonna be ok, Sam.” We detached, “Now show me whatcha got.” 

“This is one of dad's old phones.” He took out a battered phone. “Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.” 

“Wait-“ I turned, “DEAN! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!” Dean walked over, and Sam played the voicemail. 

‘John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.’ 

“That message is four months old.” Sam frowned. 

“Dad saved that chick's message for four months?” Dean blinked. 

“Yeah.”

”Well, who's Ellen, for starters?” I asked. “Any mention of her in John’s journal?” 

“No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address.” 

“Let’s take my car.” I offered, holding up my keys. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean agreed.

We approached the Roadhouse Saloon, with Dean at the wheel this time, and he smoothly parked in front. We got out, looking around cautiously. 

“Hello?” Sam called, “Anybody here?”

”They will be here soon.” I hissed. 

“Just checking!”

“Hey. You bring the, uh…” Dean held out his hand, and Sam searched his pockets. 

“Yeah.” He tossed a pickpocketing tool to Dean, who quickly opened the door to the saloon. We crept in, eyes darting around. A light bulb blew out, and there was a man passed out at the bar. 

“Hey, buddy?” Sam whispered, and I chuckled. 

“I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.” I quipped with a smirk. I went behind the bar, searching for someone. Then I heard a click, a smack and Dean calling out for help. 

“Sam! Sammy! I need some help!” 

“My hands are tied too.” Sam replied, and I pulled out my gun, flicking down the safety pin. I raised it, moving into the room behind the woman holding a gun to Sam’s head. 

“Mine aren’t.” I growled, alerting both the attackers. “Drop your guns and let them go or you’ll both be on the floor faster than you can say ‘hands up’.” 

“Wait…” Dean’s attacker popped out from behind him, her eyes widening when she saw me. She had long blonde hair, brown eyes and the most recognisable style I have ever seen. Nobody wears a green tank top and mom jeans and pulls it off that well. “Ivvy?” 

“Jo?” I half-laughed, half-exhaled as we both realised who we were dealing with. We stored our guns in our pockets, hugging each other tightly. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

”I’m so glad I’m here, trust me.” 

“I’m confused.” Dean whispered. 

“They know each other, Dean.” Sam hissed.

”Should have done a degree in stating the obvious, Sammy.”

”Sam? Dean? Winchester?” Ellen questioned, looking between the two. 

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. 

“Son of a…” 

“Mom, do you know these guys?” Jo asked, detaching herself from me. 

“I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” 

“They are.” I nodded. 

Ellen laughed, lowing her handgun. “Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo.” 

Dean flashed his signature smirk at Jo, who smiled back. “Hey.” He grinned. 

“Hey.” She replied, looking bashful. 

“You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?”

”Here you go.” Ellen offered Dean a towel with ice, which he accepted. 

“Thanks.” 

“Good one. I’ve been waiting to do that.” I whispered to Jo, who giggled.

”You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?” 

“Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it.” Ellen said candidly. 

“What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?” Dean scoffed. “I mean, who-who are you? How do you know about all this?”

”Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.” 

“Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you?” 

“You’d have to ask him that.” 

“So why exactly do we need your help?”

“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your butt on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if...” She trailed off, eyes widening, “he didn’t send you. He's all right, isn't he?“

“No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think.” Sam stammered. “It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s ok. We’re ok.” Dean coughed. 

“No, he is not.” I muttered.

”Really? I know how close you and your dad were.” 

“Really, lady, we’re fine.” Dean growled through gritted teeth. 

“‘Course you are.” I tutted. 

“Ivonne.”

“So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get.” Sam pleaded. 

“Well, we can't.” Ellen stated. “But Ash will.” 

“Who’s Ash?” I blinked. 

“ASH!” The sleeping man at the bar woke up, flailing his arms. 

“I’m up, I’m up! Is it closing time?” Ash slurred.

“That’s Ash?” Sam coughed. 

“Delightful.” I grimaced.

”Mhmm. He’s a genius.” Jo convinced, but I wasn’t as much as she was. She started pouring glasses of water, while Ellen slapped a folder on the table. Sam sat down, leaving Dean and I to stand. 

“You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius.” Dean groaned. “He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.” 

“Shut your pie hole.” I snapped. 

“I like you.” Ash chuckled, pointing to me.

”Thanks.” 

“Just give him a chance.” Jo sighed. Dean resigned, sitting down. 

“All right.” Dean cleared his throat. “This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it.” 

“Come on. This stuff ain't real.” Ash scoffed. “There ain't nobody can track a demon like this.” 

“Their dad could.” I retorted. 

“There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean.. damn!” Ash exclaimed. “They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms... You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun.” 

“Can you track it or not?” Sam groaned. 

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me…” Ash clicked his tongue, “fifty one hours.” He then got up to leave. 

”Hey, man?” Dean piped up. 

“Yeah?” 

“I, uh, dig the haircut.” It was an odd haircut, I’ll give him that.

“All business up front, party in the back.” He left, and I turned to Ellen. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Ivvy.” Ellen smiled, passing me a beer. 

“Same to you, El.” I grinned. “Haven’t felt this at home in ages.” 

“How’re you feeling after Danny?” She asked, and I kissed my teeth, thinking. 

“Better than I was. Until the Devil took my powers.” 

“He did what?!” She slammed the table. “Evil little son of a-“ 

“Ok, ok!” I chuckled, “It’s fine. I’m survivin’.” 

“He shouldn’t.” Ellen growled. “I remember when you were just a girl. Sweetest thing I’ve ever met. These powers corrupted you, but that demon’s going to do worse.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” I sighed, looking down. 

“I think Jo’s free from Dean, go catch up.” I immediately got up, going over to Jo and hugging her again. 

“What’s this about your powers gone?” She asked, and I showed her the rune. 

“Gone until the demon dies or I find a ‘drop of love’.” I scoffed.

“What’s that?” 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” 

“I’m sure you will.” She patted my shoulder. “By the way, this Dean pal of yours was flirting with me.” 

“Pay no attention to him.” I laughed. “He does that with me too. He puts on a Jerry Maguire act for nothing.” 

“He’s that kind of guy, got it.” She giggled. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you.” I joked.

”Hey, Beanie!” Dean called, and I whipped around. 

“What?” I snapped back. 

“Beanie?” Jo whisper-giggled.

”Short story.” 

“C’mere!” Dean yelled again, and I walked over to the two. 

“Whaddya want from me?” I groaned, sitting down. 

“Very courteous, Beanie.” 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” I drawled. “Sammy, what’re we doing?” 

“Murders, not far from here.” Sam replied, showing me the file. 

“Well, we should probably check that out.” I clicked my tongue. 

“That’s what I told Ellen we’d do.”

“You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean groaned as he drove my Chevrolet Corvette, Sam in the back with me with the case. 

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually.” Sam exhaled sharply. 

“And this family was at some carnival that night?” 

“Right, right. Uh, the Cooper Carnivals.” 

“So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?” 

“Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop.” I explained, looking through sheafs of evidence. “Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course.” 

“Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam.” Dean smirked. “Why did it have to be clowns?”

”Oh, give me a break.” Sam groaned. 

“You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television.” 

“At least I’m not afraid of flying.” 

“Planes crash!” 

“And apparently clowns kill!” 

“And so will I in a second!” I cut in, silencing them both. 

“I’d rather take the plane.” Dean gulped. 

“And me the clown.” Sam whispered. 

“Thank you.” I smiled briefly. “So these types of murders, did they ever happen before?” 

“Uh, a-according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales.” Sam stammered. 

“It's weird, though, I'm mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house, or a town.” Dean frowned, so I pulled a book out of my satchel, flicking through. 

“So how’s this one travelling?” 

“Cursed object, perhaps.” I shrugged, “Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them. Unlikely, but plausible.”

”Great, paranormal scavenger hunt.” Sam grimaced. 

“Well, this case was your idea.” Dean retorted. “By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.”

”So?” 

“It's just... not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

”I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do.” 

“What Dad would’ve wanted?” 

“Yeah? So?” Sam sassed. 

“Nothin’.”

Geez.

We pulled up at the carnival, where the police already were. 

“Watch out.” Dean whistled. “Five-o’s.”

”You’ll be fine.” I assured. “Don’t make a scene, keep your head down and keep walking.”

”Knowing Dean, that’s not gonna happen.” Sam grimaced as we all got out of the car. 

“Ever since she came, you two have been ganging up on me.” Dean grumped. 

“That’s cause I finally get to have a conversation with someone who has common sense.”

”I’m proud not to have common sense, Sammy. I own my flaws.”

”Never say that again.” I laughed. 

“Try me, Beanie.” Dean smirked, whipping my beanie off my head and jamming it onto his own. Sam ran his fingers through my hair a bit, tidying it up, and I gave him a small smile, combing my fingers in the same direction. A three-foot tall clown went by, and Sam stared at it, nervous, and she stared back as well before walking into the distance. “Did you get her number?” 

Sam scowled, looking like a six year old. “More murders?” 

“Twice recently.” I explained. “Ripped to shreds, and a little boy survived, and he was with them.” 

“Who fingered a clown.” Sam finished, getting a weird look from Dean. “What?” 

“So, a clown who just apparently vanished into thin air.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything.” 

“It’s going to give off EMF.” I mused. 

“So we’ll just scan everything.” Dean added optimistically. 

“Oh, good, that's nice and... inconspicuous.” Sam sighed. 

“We can blend in.” I smirked, gesturing to the ‘Help Wanted’ sign conveniently placed near us. We ventured inside, spotting a man with sunglasses throwing knives on a target, but they didn’t quite hit bullseye. 

“Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?” Dean asked him, and the man turned around. 

“Is that some kinda joke?” He took off his sunglasses, and his eyes had cataracts. Oh damn, he was blind.

”Oh. God, I'm-I'm sorry.” 

“You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?” The blind man growled. 

“Wanna give me some help here?” Dean whispered to Sam. 

“No, not really.” Sam whispered back. 

“Hey man, is there a problem?” A short guy appeared, looking up at Dean with a suspicious expression. 

Trouble’s coming. 

I draped my hair over one shoulder, undid a few of my top buttons, took a tube of lip gloss and touched up my makeup. I dumped my scarf on Sam, who gave me a questioning look.

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people.” The blind man grumbled.

”Do you have a problem?” The man asked Dean. 

Dean chuckled nervously. “No, it’s just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Little?! Son of a-“ 

“Come on, boys, let’s not fight.” I interrupted, gaining the three men’s attention. 

“Who’s she?” Blind man barked. “She sounds pretty.” 

“She is pretty.” Short man replied with a smirk. 

“I’m flattered.” I laughed, faking it. God, this was demeaning. “Now, my friends and I don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for Mr Cooper. D’you know where to find him?”

“Follow me, sweetheart.” We followed the short man, and Dean regrouped with Sam and I. 

“What the hell?” Dean whispered. “I’m trying to make amends for accidentally offending someone and you just pout your lips?” 

“Perks of being a woman.” I smirked, patting Dean’s shoulder. “It’s easy to charm a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in ages.” 

“That was genius.” Sam chuckled. 

“I know.” We reached the door to Mr Cooper’s office, and we were let in. 

“Mr Cooper?” The short man asked. “You got three new recruits.” We walked in and saw Mr Cooper at his desk. There were three chairs, and one with a clown painted on it. Sam sat down gingerly, while Dean sat looking smug. 

“You boys, and lady, picked a hell of a time to join up.” Cooper grunted.  “We've got all kinds of local trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowned.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered.” He waved his hand. “Cops always seem to start here first. So, you two ever worked the circuit before?” 

“Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas.” 

“Doing what? Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?” 

“Just a little bit of everything, I guess.” Sam shrugged. 

“You lot have never done a show in your lives, have you?” 

“No, we have not, sir.” I admitted. “But my brothers and I do need the money.” I saw a twitch of surprise in Dean’s face, but he masked it pretty well. 

“You see that picture? That's my daddy.” Cooper pointed to a picture. 

“You look just like him, Mr Cooper.” 

“He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress. I guess. You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two point five kids. Live regular.” Cooper turned to me, “And you, little lady, should build a life of your own. You three’re no outcasts.” 

“You’d be surprised.” I laughed. 

Sam leaned forward, serious. “Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this.” 

“You got assistant manager?” Dean scoffed, picking up rubbish. “How?”

“Perks of being a woman. And downsides of being a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in many decades.” I winked. We both got a phone call, so we picked up. “Hello?” 

‘Hey, guys.’ 

“What’s up, Sammy? You sound like you saw a clown.” Dean frowned. 

‘Very funny. Skeleton, actually.’ 

“Are we talking real human bones?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. 

‘In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object -- what if it's attached to its own remains?’

”Does it give off EMF?” Dean and I asked at the same time. 

‘Well, no, but-’  

“We’ll check it out anyway.” I nodded. 

“We’re coming to you, Sammy.” Dean said before cutting the call. “Did you have to say that at the same time?” 

“Not my fault we think the same way.” I grinned, taking my beanie off Dean and ruffling his hair before pulling it over my head. 

“Bug off.” 

“Make me.” I teased before walking off. I reached Sam, tapping him on the shoulder. “Whatcha got?”

”Nothing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nothing gives off EMF yet.” 

“It will.” I assured. “Just gotta keep your patience.” 

“Easy for you to say.” 

“Hey! It’s hard work, being hit on by a short man!” 

“Fine, fine.” Dean approached us, looking grumpy. “What took you so long?” 

“Long story.”

”Mommy, look at the clown!” We heard a little girl giggle, pointing to nowhere. 

“What clown?” Her mother asked, looking around, then she took the girl’s hand. “Come on, sweetie.”

We exchanged a look; something was up.

”What I want to know,” I whispered angrily, “is why you told Papazian about the killer ghost clown.” We were on a stakeout at the girl’s house, just waiting. 

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real.” Dean shrugged. He cocked a gun, but Sam slapped it down. 

”Keep that down!” Sam hissed. 

“Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what.” 

“What?” 

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.” 

“So Cooper brought the spirit with him?” I mused.

”Something like that.” Dean shook his head, sighing. “I can't believe we keep talking about clowns.” 

“Nobody can.” I grimaced. “Alright, let’s keep watch. Nobody close their eyes.” 

Dean fell asleep. 

At around midnight, we saw the girl go over to the door, opening it. “Wanna come and play?” The clown entered with her, and we jolted Dean awake, dragging him with us. We broke in, waiting in the hallway. “Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs.” As soon as the clown and the girl came in sight, I rushed forward, taking her out of the clown’s grip. She started screaming, but I loosened my grip. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I whispered. She quietened down, but then Dean shot the clown and she hugged me, crying. 

“Dean, watch out!” Sam yelled, and the clown escaped. 

“I’ve got you.” I murmured, stroking the girl’s back. “Don’t worry.”

”What's going on here?” The father ran down the stairs, his eyes widening when he saw his daughter hugging me. “Get away from my-“ 

Her mother ran down too, gasping. “Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!” 

“Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!” Sam and Dean fled, but I breathed shakily, frozen for a moment. 

“Mommy, Daddy, the man shot my clown!” The girl cried, then pointed to me. “She saved me!” 

“You saved my daughter.” The mother sobbed, hugging me. “Thank you.” 

“How can we repay you?” The dad asked, picking his daughter up. 

“I- you don’t n-need to.” I stammered. “I know what it’s like to not be protected when you need it. My parents weren’t exactly there, so she’s lucky to have you.” 

“We’re lucky that you were there.” The mother smiled. 

And that’s how I ended up leaving with food. 

I trudged over to the car, where Dean and Sam were waiting. 

“Where were you?” Sam sighed in relief upon seeing me, unfolding his arms. 

“We couldn’t get in cause you have the keys!” Dean grumped. 

“Can I console you with food?” I held up the food, and they stared at me. 

“Uh… how? Why?” 

“The little girl told her parents that I saved her from you two.” I chuckled nervously. “They asked me how they could repay me and I told them they didn’t have to, but they sent me with food and a large flask of cocoa.” 

“Beanie, I’ve never appreciated you so much until this day.” Dean grinned. 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Do you think they got the plate?” Dean asked while munching on a sandwich. 

“Nope.” I smirked. “Covered the plate when we got here. Then I whipped it off before we left, so it’s unlikely they saw anything. But I’ve been thinking. One thing's for sure.” 

“What is?” Sam asked, also eating a sandwich.

”We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid.” 

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?” 

“Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?” Dean scoffed. “Did it say anything in Dad's journal?” 

Sam flicked through it, eyebrows furrowed. “Nope.” 

I pulled out my phone, dialling a number and holding it to my ear. 

“Who’re you callin’?” Dean asked. 

“Jo.” I replied, getting out of the car, then she picked the call up. 

‘Hello?’ 

“Hey, Jo, it’s Ivvy.” 

‘Oh, hey! Whatcha need?’

”The boys and I just finished a stakeout at a girl’s house because she came into contact with the clown. Dean shot it, but it was solid. Is Ash back with his evidence?” 

‘Yeah. Lemme pass the phone to him.’

’Hey, pretty lady.’

’Ash!’

’I’m kidding! Anyway, I think what you’re lookin’ for is called a Rakshasa. An ancient demon from Hindu mythology. It takes on a human form, feeds on human flesh and can’t enter a home unless invited. They sleep on a bed of dead insects and wake up around every twenty to thirty years. Sounds accurate.’ 

“How do you kill it?”

‘Blade made of pure brass. That’s our best guess.’ Ellen cut in. ‘If it’s right, you’re welcome; if it’s wrong, see you on the other side.’ 

“I’ll make sure to tell you if it worked.” I laughed. “Alright, see you guys.” 

‘Bye!’ I cut the call, climbing back in. Dean and Sam looked grumpier, and I raised my eyebrow. 

“Did you two fight again?” 

“No.” Dean grumbled, and I turned to Sam. 

“Sammy?” 

“No.” He replied a lot more civilly. 

“The moment I leave.” I grimaced.

”What did Ellen say?” Sam asked. 

“What we’re looking for, they said, might be a Rakshasa. Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited.“ 

“So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in.” Dean mused. 

“Pretty much sums it up.” 

“Why don't they just munch on the kids?” 

“Not enough meat on the bones?” Sam theorised. 

“What else did you find out?” 

“A Rakshasa sleeps on a bed of dead insects and wakes up to feed every twenty to thirty years.” 

“Well, that makes sense.” Dean nodded. “I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81.” 

“Probably more before that.” Sam breathed. 

“Who do we know that worked both shows, boys?” I smirked. 

“Cooper.” 

“Cooper.” Dean added. 

“You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him.” 

“What if it is him?” 

“Can’t rule it out.” I shrugged. “Who knows how old he is?” 

“Ellen say how to kill him?” 

“Legend says a dagger made of pure brass.” 

“I know where to get one of those.”

”Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him.” Sam frowned. 

“You’re such a stickler for details, Sammy.” Dean teased, making Sam smile. “All right, I'll round up the blade, Beanie, you’ll keep watch and you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” I grinned, patting them on the shoulders. 

“Let’s do this.”

I waited outside, one hand on the gun in my jacket, maybe as reassurance that it was still there. 

“Look, Mommy, it’s her!” I heard, and the little girl ran up to me, paired with her parents. 

“Hey, uh, didn’t expect to see you guys again.” I chuckled nervously, raising my hand. 

“And we never got your name.” Her mother smiled while I shook her father’s hand. 

“My name’s, um, Lily.” I lied, thinking quickly. “Lily Carter.” 

“I’m Audrey Teyman.” She introduced. “This is my husband James, and this little girl is also Lily.” My breath caught in my throat, but I stomached it, bending down to Lily. 

“You’re a Lily too, huh?” I smiled.

”Yeah!” She giggled. “You’re just like me.” 

“Yeah, I’m just like you.” I heard some yelling, so I had to think quickly again. “Tell you what?” I pulled out some money and gave it to her. “Spend it on anything you want. But not too much sweets, you get me?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Pinky promise?” I held out my little finger and she wrapped hers around mine before giving me a hug. I stood up to face her parents. 

“You’re too generous.” James smiled. 

“It’s nothin’.” I shook my head. “Now you go, Lily, and spend that money right, okay?” 

“Okay!” Lily gave me a toothy grin. 

“We’d better get going. It was lovely meeting you again, Miss Carter.” They left, and I immediately ran to the source of the commotion. 

“Dean!” I yelled, trying the door handle. 

“Beanie, thank god!” Dean shouted from the inside, and I shot the door handle, opening it just in time for Dean to tumble out. 

“Are you ok?!” 

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t stepped in.” He leaned his forehead against mine, a relieved grin on his face, but his eyes were closed. 

“Dean! Ivonne!” Sam ran up to us, and we both got up, walking over. 

“Sammy!”

”So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him.” 

“We’ve figured that part out. It’s the blind guy. He's here somewhere.”

“Did you get the brass blades?” 

“No, no, it’s been one of those days.” 

“We can’t have one of those days.” I grimaced. “We’re probably now on the Rakshasa’s most wanted list. We have to kill it.” 

“I’ve got an idea.” Sam nodded, “Follow me.” We ran to the funhouse, and when we were there I pulled out my gun. “Dean, Ivonne, find the maze, now!” We ran in, my gun held up while I heard every single sound around me. 

“Can you stop walking so loud?!” I whispered to Dean, who stopped. 

“I’m heavy footed!” He argued quietly.

“Our lives are on the line here!” 

“Fine!” We found the maze and came back to Sam. 

“Where is it?” Sam asked frantically. 

“I don’t know.” Dean fretted. “Will we see its clothes when it’s walking around, or..?” 

“Probably not.” I frowned, then a knife flew past Dean, pinning his sleeve to the wall. Another pinned his wrist to the wall. 

“Sam!” Sam pulled the pipe off the wall, stalking around slowly. Then a knife almost chipped him in the head, but he dodged in time. 

“Dean, where is it?” Sam called. 

“I don’t know!” A knife flew through the air, and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, followed by my body reacting to absorb the shock. I held my hand to my stomach, and when I drew it back, I saw blood. 

A knife was in my stomach. 

“Beanie!” Dean yelled, then pulled a lever, making steam gush out of the organ and show the outline of the body. 

“Over here!” I held up my hand and caught the pipe, sticking it as far as I could into the Rakshasa. It bled, and slowly disappeared, while I collapsed onto the floor and sat against the wall, leaning my head against it. Dean got the knives off his sleeves and rushed over to me, both brothers kneeling down. 

“Don’t you close your eyes, Ivonne.” Dean ordered, tilting my head up to face him. “Don’t you dare.”

”We’ll get you an ambulance.” Sam fretted, trying to assess the wound. 

“I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon.” I coughed, wincing a little at the pain. “I’ll be damned and given a one way ticket to hell if I do.” 

“You’re not going there.” Dean assured. “I ain’t gonna let you.”

”So considerate.” I smirked. 

“So mouthy, even with a knife in you.”

”Knife wounds won’t stop me from getting a dig in.”

”I was kind of hopin’ that you’d stay back.” Jo smiled giving me a once over. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“Of course.” I chuckled. “I’ve got these two knuckleheads.” 

“Those two knuckleheads couldn’t save you from a flying knife.” 

“One was trapped by one, the other dodging one. I can only blame my reflexes.” 

“Just be careful out there.” Ellen chastised, handing me some bandages. “I wouldn’t want a knife to hit your heart next time.” 

“I guarantee you, Ellen, there’s no way in hell I’d let that happen.” 

“But we’re not in hell.” She frowned. “I’ve known you since you were a newborn, Ivonne. What happened to your family was terrible, and it could happen again.” 

“I think this time is different.” I smiled. “If not, I know who to call.” 

“You better.” Jo hugged me. “I’ll be waiting everyday. If you won’t call me for a while, I’m busting down your door and I’m gonna kill those two myself.” 

“Jo, that’s my job.” I joked, inciting a laugh. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Oh, I’ve got something to give you.” Ellen hurried to her drawer, taking out a necklace. “It was your father’s gift to your mother when they didn’t start becoming so… distant. I think it’d look wonderful on you.” I took it, admiring the shimmering green stone. 

“It would. Thanks, Ellen.”

”No problem.”

A day later, I was told that I’d be fine, so we were back at my house. Dean and Sam insisted that I stayed in bed while they brought me food and breakfast, but I did have to get in some walking. 

“Knock knock.” Sam grinned. 

“Hey, Sammy.” I smiled, sitting up a bit. “C’mon in.” 

Sam sat down next to me, looking intently. “How have you been?”

”I could be worse.” I chuckled. “Dude was good at his craft.”

”He was.” Pause. “But there’s something else.”

“What is it?” I frowned.

”What you said to Dean stuck with me. I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon. I’ll be damned and given a one-way ticket to hell if I do.” He repeated. “It seemed so genuine. Did something happen to you or someone in your family?”

”That’s a story for another day.” I refused politely. “For now, all I can say is that it’s my fault.”

”I don’t think it was.” Sam smiled, then kissed me on the forehead. “G’night, Ivonne.”

”Call me Ivy, Sammy.” I offered.

”G’night, Ivy.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affairs | three

*Ellie’s POV*

Tyler was nice enough to pick Liam up from daycare and took him home for the night so I could be alone. It was 3:30 by the time I finished my work so I decided to get ready. I cut almost a foot of my hair off and it was so freeing, as if any hair Noah touched was gone. I did a classic red lip and black winged liner for my make up, and threw on some light blue ripped jeans, a black strapless shirt and my checkered vans. I look a deep breath as I looked at myself in the mirror. Even though I didn’t want to see him, I hope I make him eat his heart out if I do.

“Remember, you’re doing this for Matt, not him.” I nodded at Danielle as I took a shot, chasing it with my gin and tonic. I was getting a huge wave of deja vu and I didn’t like it one bit. We went up to the balcony to avoid being seen by them. The openers this time were Erra and I See Stars and they were so fucking good, listening to them made me realize how much I missed listening to this kind of music. It was also nice to see Jesse and Clint play instead of awkwardly running into them in Noah’s kitchen. I had to admit Clint was really good … “Oh my god.” Danielle and I looked at each other as Bad Omens got onto the stage. They were all wearing ski masks as they opened with Artificial suicide. I kept my eyes on Folio to distract myself from looking at Noah, but I kept stealing glances at him. He looked a lot more confident than he did last year and his stage presence was hard to ignore. He took his mask off and I noticed he had cut his hair even shorter, I hated how he could pull off any length of hair. “I still think no one is doing front of house like Matt is.” Danielle commented, “These guys sound so fucking good thanks to him.” “I know, he really is the best.” I replied, feeling a small smile appear on my lips. I looked over the balcony and saw Matt working his magic. He looked so cute as his head bobbed to the music while his hands constantly adjusted the sounds. Danielle nudged me as she pointed at my face, “are you blushing?” “No.” I quickly clapped back as cupped my cheek. Fuck, I was burning up. She just rolled her eyes as we went back to watching the band. Their new stage set up was really cool and I was floored hearing a remastered version of Broken Youth. Noah always told me that song would never see the light of day again, I guess that was just another lie he told me. After the song ended, I saw Noah look up in our direction. He definitely saw us and I felt like my world stopped in that moment. “We’ve been spotted. Do you wanna go?”

“No.” I replied, not taking my eyes off him, he was seemingly doing the same. “I’m not letting him win.”

We both watched him as the chords for Just Pretend started. He was amping up for a speech, I could tell. I gripped harder onto the balcony as I prayed he didn’t say anything or call me out. The more chords Jolly played, the faster my heart would beat. Every time I hear that song it feels like I’m time travelling back to Seattle when he dedicated it to me. “Before I start, I just wanted to dedicate this to someone who may or not be here tonight. Help me sing loud enough that she can hear me.” My jaw was on the fucking floor as I looked over at Danielle, who had the same expression on her face. Of course he knew I was here. He kept looking up here every chance he got. As he sang the song, he had this smug smirk on his face. He knew what he was fucking doing. Noah stood on one of the risers, pointing in my direction as the song came to an end.

“Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

My knuckles were turning white as I gripped onto the rail harder. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or roll my eyes…the nerve of this man.

[xhanelia]

I loved the take you made for transmasc reader because yes, so. PART TWO (this is the same anon btw, please tell me how tf is it 4:29 AM whenever I get into a writing or reading mood? Pure luck :,))

Anyway, wishing you the best and don't forget to take breaks! (I might make a full series of requests because I am too drained out to write this myself sorry)

I literally wrote everything and decided to take a break bcs this year is my last and i need to study then when i came back, i realised that tumblr did not saved any of my work. I feel like i just lost a child of mine 💀

Anyway, sorry for the delay, dear anon. I hope you like it. And i am so grateful that you still follow my posts.🖤

Sova headcannons with trans-masc reader part 2

I am so fucking mad that tumblr did not saved any of my work. I DO NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING I WROTE THIS LIKE 2 WEEKS AGO.

Ok time for improvise. In the math class.

If there is a chance to choose his partner for a mission, he will choose you if not anthing specificly needed. He likes your presence near him. It calms him down.

But if you get hurt, he will blame himself. He says he is sorry and its his fault that you got shot with his more fatal wounds while Sage heals both of you. You look him up and down with a brow raised as if you are judging him how he manages to think about you while he is in this situation.

Will make dad jokes just to piss you off.

Normaly he does not laughs at his jokes. Mostly at your reaction. But one time you did a dad joke to him during a mission and he let out a snort. The enemy bullet nearly hit his forehead.

Sage scold you both. Definitely.

Phoenix and Jett insisted to hear the joke and when you told them, even Sage let out a little giggle.

Will make your drink of choice when he goes to the kitchen to get his. Just a form of care.

He will let you make masks on his face if you insist. Even wearing a bunny bandana to keep his hair away. He does get pulled into the "girls night" in the HQ sometimes so he is used to that. (Sova, Omen and Phoenix are one of the girls. Well, i will definately wrote this to an HQ headcannons post.)

If he sees you talking with Chyper, he will get jelaous. Not like he will grab you by your arm and pull you away from him. Its more like he will side eye you both while you two have a conversation.

If Chyper gets tilted by him, after the coversation he will talk to Sova. "You know their 'secrets' right?" "I know them more than you could ever." (Insert the grumpy cat sova picture.)

He will chase you everywhere in the HQ if you steal his cape. This man runs like Usain Bolt with those legs and height of his but he will match your speed for afew minutes just to have fun. Then it is over like a jumpscare.

You can cling onto him like a sloth. He wont even budge. Looking down at you with a confused face as if "wtf are u doin?"

He is bad at video games so if you want to play with him, you'll need to teach him first. He tries his best but he still loses. Its like he does that on purpose at this point. He much prefers to cheer for you when you and Gekko have a tournament between.

He is willing to share his babushkas food with you. You are that important to him. And he will be proud if his babushka and you have a good realitionship. Even if its just from the screen.

He is the sweetest man alive. Biggest support for you and a relaible friend at most. We love him 🥰

[boyhood]

There's this weird phenomenon that I have noticed across multiple years within my MFA cohort- and, by extent, all the other people with MFAs that I know- where an artist will weirdly revert back to all their pre-MFA work stylistically and thematically. And this evokes a lot of feelings in me- like, the work is worse than what they developed in school, but it also feels sort of free from interference, like a process of unknowing. But like. It's bad. The work is not good.

And I can almost always root out that impulse in myself by being a ludicrous person in the way that I dress and decorate my home and in the maximalism and ridiculousness of my research. I do this to keep my art practice and my writing really sparse. Really to the point. I am wearing a deeply stupid silly outfit and attended a lecture about how to read omens, but my work is like, very serious

Anyway, I'm accidentally only making pre-MFA work stylistically and thematically right now and I don't know what it means and have no solutions and it's very irritating to me

[markthekng]

Figured since October is coming up and I didn't have Tumblr last year I'd show off my costume from last year. The theme was possession. I started the day as a priest, was "possessed" in first period, then slowly throughout the day became more corrupted until I was a demon. I thought it was very cool.

Phase 1: Father Mark

Phase 2: the demon lurks

Phase 3: Taking over

Phase 4: The loss of Divination (hard to see in the picture but there is a tail)

Phase 5: The Fall Of Mark (yes I really did go out with a mesh shirt in only my binder. Also the cigarette is fake smoking is bad guys)

There was actually a story I wrote to go along with it too. It's under the cut if you're interested

Poor Father Mark, a man of the church, but a vessel of despair. Morality cannot protect you when you are stripped of feeling. God will not save you when the devil has you in a chokehold.

Father Mark, how do you lead a prayer? Do you bow your head? How then do you hide the crimson tears that don’t stop flowing like a river? Do you look to the sky? How then do you avoid choking on the regurgitated blood that burns in your stomach? Or do you find prayer to be a waste of time ever since you were stripped of your autonomy? What point is there in believing in a god?

Father Mark, how do you dress? Do you wear the sacred outfit of a priest? Does your clerical collar help you feel as if you are still in control? Does the halo the Lord blessed you with make you feel any more holy? Do you dress in a scandalous manner to match the possession burning you away? Do you feel as if the fabricless shirt makes you better suited to be under the devil’s control? Or perhaps, clothing is a waste of time when your skin is no longer your own.

Father Mark, what do you hold in those soft pale hands of yours? Do you carry a crucifix and a bible? Do you still preach that there is life after death? Do you still hope to see the best in everyone with the mindset that when they day, they’ll be in a paradise concealed by clouds? Or have you learned better after the smoke originated from your own flesh? Do you carry the staff with the skull of the omen of death because it relieves the burn of the cross? Do you carry a cigarette in between that plastered on frown to numb the pain of being stripped of heaven? Do you carry a bag to collect the prayers and hopes of those who cannot be saved? Your hands used to be soft to the touch, now the burn of your calluses are not exclusive to you.

Father Mark, how did you come to be possessed by demons? Who strayed you from the path of the Lord? What made you so demonic?

“My child,” Father Mark’s eyes will pool with blood and his lips are permanently stained red as he coughs up his innocence, “The Lord has forsaken me ever since the first exorcism. From the beginning, God has forsaken me, and the angels spit on me as they pass by.”

I had been good, I had not sinned. I had followed the commandments. I had been perfect. Did you know it was possible? For a mortal to be perfect? I believed I had been perfect, that everyone had been perfect, but God had other plans. I had exorcised a demon from a young girl’s spirit, but it had only left her. It had latched on to me. As a result I was cursed. The Lord did not protect me when I prayed, nor when I went through the ritual. No matter how much pain I endured to try and get rid of the demon, God had not answered a single prayer. Over and over again I had been forsaken.

And the demon, oh that demon. I don’t think it’s just a demon, it’s the culmination of all of my sins, and now it’s trying to turn me into one. It speaks to me, it is right now. It tells me that it is me, and that I will never escape its grasps. It tells me such awful things, burning my brain and branding itself on the side. The pain of its voice drives me mad. And it will never go away. No, it only wishes to see me suffer. It only wishes to drag me to the darkest pits of hell. With every fight I put up I only lose myself more. Is it better to be a soulless husk than a sin?

I tried to fight it. I tried to fight the demonic forces on my own, but I couldn’t. A mortal is powerless to a celestial. Lucifer himself has contributed to my possession. But he does not speak to me as a mortal, he speaks to me as an equal. Lucifer allows sweet temptations to slip from his lips and through your ears. Fighting it is pointless, it will only tear you piece by piece. The feeling of the holy garment burns as you descend, and you can no longer hold the crucifix. My body is not my own, I will never get it back. And if I do, what waits for me when I am human again? The disapproving stares of the choirs of angels? Chants of “Holy, holy, holy” directed in the opposite direction? This is a battle I am not meant to win, for winning is far worse than losing.

Poor Father Mark had us all convinced her body wasn't returning to dust. He had us believing that he didn't protect the world but mixing her blood into the soil.

Poor Father Mark, he never stood a chance. We watched as the demon took control. We watched as his sins manifested. We watched as he realized he had never been possessed, but he was the demon from the beginning. We watched his expression turn dark when he looked over at us. We watched as he lit the cigarette and left.

Poor Father Mark, we watched as the halo was ripped from your head and replaced with obsidian horns. Poor Father Mark, we watched as the crucifix burnt your hands, making the skin red and raw and you chose to lift the staff instead. Poor Father Mark, we watched that unscathed back fester and sore as raven wings burst from your shoulders and flew you away from salvation. Poor Father Mark, we watched the beast’s tail extend from your spine. Poor Father Mark, we watched as you fell.

Oh but you realize it don’t you? You were never one of us, Mark. You were never meant to be among angels. The sharp teeth that break through flesh were yours all along. The darkness followed you like a plague. You were never meant to be good Mark. You couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried you were never good enough. You’re just the same as the rest, powerful and impure. You were too human. And now look at you! Your humanity has been stripped away, and the cold stare of an angel has left your eyes. Now your eyes burn in the inferno below the surface.

And what has become of the demon Mark? Oh Poor Father Mark is no longer a Father. He is hardly even a son. Mark is no more than a common succubus. I doubt he’d ever rank higher than a measly imp. Mark is no longer the angelic being of flesh, he never deserved that title. Mark’s halo was a fantasy that we allowed him to believe. Mark is a source of evil. The demon Mark only believes in evil. The demon Mark was beyond saving from the beginning. At the right hand of Lucifer himself he swears to bring an end to the Lord and his angels.

Oh it’s not true, that was never true. I am not “the demon” Mark. I am only Mark. Not “the succubus” not “the imp.” Just Mark. I am me, and that’s the only truth I need to live by ever since the fall. I feel no guilt for what I’ve done. I am not who I’ve become because a demon took me away. This is me because I saw the light. I am this way because I’ve seen the hypocrisy of those above. You wanted a demon and I delivered. But I am no servant, no right hand man, and never again will I be a slave. I am king. On Earth as it is in Hell, I wear the crown of wilted roses, proving that I reign over these wastelands. I make those who have caused hurt to others suffer. I am the force that will overthrow heaven. I am the truth, the light, and the king, no one will be spared. I will no longer be good.

The angels seethe at the sight of the king of hell. If you check the list of ranks, you’ll see his name violently torn, scratched at, and ripped. He did that himself, they only scratch to feel accomplished. The war had begun as soon as Satan himself had stood and bowed. Mark, king of hell, the source of all evil. Creator of ash and dust. The man is plagued by the death of a girl, her voice still ringing in his ears demanding to know the importance of her death, resulting in the overthrowing of demonicism. The world will never know perfection again so long as Mark is still out there.

And yet, something can be found in the eyes of the demon Mark. It’s not a vengeful look, nor a sinister glare. A look in Mark’s eyes that could never be found in the eyes of angels.

Compassion.

[skyhighru]

so

funny story (and a kinda long one)

I installed the new update as soon as I saw it, went into the game and the first thing I noticed, is that they stole the candles in the middle of this small pond

weird, but it's not about that

so I changed my outfit (since I was still wearing one of the "somewhat fancy" ones that I wanted to wear tomorrow to the festival), went to Aviary, to check what's new, lit the white candle to make this my new home,

and then went to take some pics, because Aviary looked pretty in the new lighting (at least I think it was new). and as I was doing that, a moth came up to me, did the point emote and then sorta abducted me – added me to friends, took my hand and started flying around and spam honking. I just kinda followed along, because at first I assumed they either wanted to show me something or just wanted some company

at one point they jumped into the fireplace and started doing the "follow me" emote. dunno what they were trying to do, but it was kinda funny

there was also another player who spam honked with us for a little bit, but they didn't add either of us to friends

then, after about 10 minutes of red moth dragging me around and still occasionally spam honking (with me being mostly confused, because I didn't know if they were trying to tell me something or if they were just goofing around), they eventually left the game

so I was like "well, that was weird", quickly sent them a heart, cause why not, and then remembered that I didn't check if there was anything new at the boat in original home

I flew towards the home portal, with Aviary turning quite foggy, which I thought was kinda nice,

but after I sat down at the home portal, I realized the fog wasn't just cool lil' thing. it was an omen. a bad omen...

because the portal wasn't working

for me and for 2 other players also sitting there

I tried standing up and sitting down again, stepping away and also sitting down again, closing the game and coming back – nothing. also for some reason random shared memories were playing without me tapping on them. they were just kinda... there (dunno if I was the schizophrenic one or the game)

usually I wouldn't care, since I remember it happening before, but this time was different, since I already set Aviary as my default home. and while you can get to the village through a portal at home, you can't do the reverse and get home through a portal in Aviary since there is none

and then, as I was about to post "guys what do I do if I trapped myself in the Aviary💀" here, the game suddenly woke up from its slumber and the home portal worked. after I got back, I instantly switched original home back to being the default one and now I will never walk near that white candle ever again

now that I think about it, perhaps that moth, that dragged me around Aviary, also trapped themselves in Aviary and thought that maybe I knew a way out. although probably not, because I think if that was the case, then they would bring me to a bench and outright told me that was the issue (we did pass a few benches, but they only lit a candle on one of them and never sat down on said bench)

TL;DR: went to check Aviary after new update, got abducted by a moth and then almost got trapped in the village by Hopeful Stewart

so yeah, overall it was pretty good, love the new white candle👍

[metallteeff]

my long gender post lol

idk how long it’ll actually be but like. god i’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of “knowing since you were a kid” recently and for the longest time i thought i didn’t really know but recently i’ve remembered and realized to an extent i did know but in the vein of “who cares” and i guess i just always assumed everyone else felt the same. like i just thought everyone was like who cares, but ill just wear this thing because everyone else does.

and i used to be really nervous and somewhat afraid of bringing up my autism and other things in relation to my gender because so many people use it to discount and discredit your experience, especially when it’s brought up as a cause of you being trans. i’ve always been afraid of someone coming up to me and saying “you’re not trans you’re just autistic and confused” which would be a double punch for me.

but i’ve started realizing thinking that way as a kid, before i knew any words to describe myself other than “weird”, was me knowing i just thought everyone also felt like that. and i have that issue often. that i just assume everyone sees the same thing as me, and then thinking we all process that information the same because i just think that’s how brains work.

what makes me sad is you can’t even be “odd” anymore. if people just saw me as some really weird off the deep end “girl” still i wouldn’t really care. i really try not to care what others perceive me as in terms of gender because to me it’s “not their business”. but even just having really weird or unique clothes at this point can get you clocked or treated weird. and i mean this to point out how awful it is that if you just dress kind of “weird” there is a larger chance of you being hurt or turned away or ostracized.

now when you dress “odd” you immediately have an agenda. you have some sick disease or people roll your eyes when you’re around. and i’ve never understood this hateful lens of obsession people have with clothes. i love clothes i definitely have a clothes obsession but they have always been some form of a costume to me. because that’s what they are. you dress up how you’d like to look like in them. so if i have the ability to dress how i desire why wouldn’t i? and if i was a “girl” you would still look at me funny. if i was a “guy” you definitely would. and because i lie inbetween ill never be taken seriously and ill always have this large neon sign above my head that flashes “NONBINARY” which people hate. people get so mad.

over the years i’ve tried to become “tougher” through saying i’m more “reasonable” than other nonbinary people. i just wear t shirt and jeans and im just like you! im more masculine and im nonbinary but i will only use he him! but oh my god it’s wearing down on my soul. it’s grating. and i’m so upset that i made myself do this. for myself for others and im mad that it’s something i felt like i had to perpetuate to be “taken seriously”. being a person is the most unserious thing in the world.

i’m so tired of “gender roles” and i have been since i was 12 and saw others sharing this sentiment and im tired because its confusing. it doesn’t make sense even historically. when boys wore pink because its closer to red. but suddenly now it’s some omen that an “agenda got you”. i have never understood any of this so i’ve never participated but by doing that i was punished. and when i participated i was hurt worse. there’s no point in playing this made up game so why should i have to care im sorry i really don’t. i dont at all.

i’m not trying to make a big point or anything. i mean this as when i was a kid i had absolutely no concept of gender. and when i tried to it hurt me awfully bad. my parents themselves were not that strict with gender roles besides telling me what the world would expect but i could always do “boy” and “girl” things. i mean this as when i was a child i genuinely thought i was a boy because i would sex myself by counting my ribs to make sure i had 13 (…) and i “always did” (i was like 7 lol). i had no concept because lionesses do all the work and big blue peacocks are male. this shit is all stupid and it never made sense to me since i was a kid. and i don’t think it will ever be “because” of anything. people will always try to put a cause but i felt like this when my life was perfect and happy when i was 6 years old and i had no hardships. it felt like this when it got harder it felt like this when it got worse it feels like this now. there’s no point to this.

this is very very long but i have been nonstop thinking about it. i have always felt stuck in my gender identity because of the rules put on this stuff and im sooooo so so tired about it. i feel like ive come out 5000 times because i dont know what im supposed to be. i’ve tried hard to find labels and do them right over and over but god. and it’s not that i don’t identify or feel connected to being queer, i very much do, but to me (and especially at this point) i don’t feel connected to being the “alternative” because it doesn’t make any sense. but being queer and especially trans you get painted as the undesirable alternative. you become “what happens sometimes” and then they’ll try to explain it. give it reason. their parents weren’t the best. they have a gene or a mental disorder or illness. they’re autistic and confused. they have identity issues. they’ll grow out of it. but i’m soooo tired of having to have an explanation. oh my god. because no one else does and when you point it out they get mad and turn it on you.

i don’t really have a nice way to wrap this up. and this is not the 5001 coming out post. i’ve known i’m gender fluid for the past 2ish years. i know what i am. i’m queer. as in odd as in gay as in “alternative” as in shapeless as in confusing. i know who exactly i am by being an ever changing thing but that’s seen as being unstable and lost in yourself instead of curious or intrigued by others explorations. i am just sick of having to explain myself to cis people and having to be seen as a “good example” in every facet of my life, related and unrelated to this.