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lovezbrownies · 2 months ago

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My actions. (Yandere!F!Med Student x GN!Reader.)

General Masterlist

Synopsis: You meet the infamous Lorelai Marlowe, your med school's sweetheart. And you hate her. Referring to this ask!

Warnings: Mean darling, reader don't gaf! stalking, slow burn obsession, gets kinda creepy at the end, reader yelling at Lorelai.

Lorelai Marlowe x GN!Reader

Lorelai Marlowe had never known true friendship. Born into a family of wealth and prestige, her life was shaped by expectations and status. The Marlowes were not just wealthy, they were a dynasty of accomplished individuals, known for their brilliance and influence. And where there was money, there were people eager to get close. Lorelai learned early that, for most, being her friend meant securing a piece of the Marlowe fortune. Relationships were transactional: "You give, I take." It left her craving something real, an honest friendship, untainted by her last name.

Her idol is her father, Mason Marlowe, a man who embodied success in its purest form. Mason Marlowe was a genius: the youngest person in the country to hold seven degrees, one bachelor’s, two medical degrees, two master’s, and two doctorates. "A bachelor's is barely worth the paper it’s printed on," Isa’s father would say with a dismissive wave of his hand. But his disdain wasn’t reserved for education alone; her father held a similar view on relationships. “You’ll never find true friendship while bearing the Marlowe name, Lorelai,” her father would warn. “People want our money, not you.” When Lorelai was younger, she fought against that idea. She believed in friendship, in the idea that people could care for her beyond the wealth she represented.

But now, after years of watching greed twist every connection, she wasn’t so sure.

Though she yearned to be as indifferent to social interaction as her father, that trait was beyond her reach, something she would never achieve. Lorelai couldn’t help herself. Even with the fakest of friends, she found herself chatting away, always looking for a spark of something real. Despite her privilege and the walls she built, Lorelai was a loving person at heart. She just needed someone to give her a small piece of love in return.

And soon, she would find that glimmer of hope in her medicine class. Lorelai excelled in every course she took, a testament to the Marlowe family’s near-genetic genius. With her eidetic memory, she never had to study as long or as hard as her peers. While others broke their backs studying, Lorelai effortlessly retained every detail. It was a fact that had always set her apart, and isolated her.

She’d never paid much attention to you before. You were just another face in the crowd, one of those students who always seemed perpetually exhausted, always overburdened with books and the stress of academia. And while Lorelai would sit through class texting or working on assignments for other courses, today would be different. Her professor had just partnered her with you, some random student she barely knew, for a project on the effects of diabetic medicine. Naturally, other groups were assigned far more exciting topics, but this? It was just her rotten luck.

Standing tall and poised, her family’s perfect genes in full display, Lorelai surveyed the classroom. She was everything her mother always said she was, tall, gorgeous, smart. Perfect. She scanned the room for you, but she had no idea what you looked like. All she could do was watch for a student who looked as lost as she felt. And then she spotted you.

You approached her slowly, the school's oversized jacket wrapped around you like a shield. Your slouched posture and the disarray of your appearance made you look even more exhausted than usual. Your backpack bulged with books, threatening to spill out at any moment, while your hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in days. Lorelai hesitated for a moment, worried that your messy appearance might signal laziness. But then she reassured herself: the more disheveled you looked, the harder you probably worked. You would be diligent, even if not polished.

With her signature bright smile, Lorelai greeted you as you finally stopped in front of her. She decided to speak first, her tone bubbly, eager to break the ice. “Hello! I’m Lorelai Marlowe! And you must be Y/N! Or are you? Hehe, I’m just kiddin, ”

You cut her off sharply, your voice curt and almost aggressive. “Are you going to take this project seriously, or should I do it alone?”

Lorelai froze, shocked by your bluntness. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. It was… rude. But it was also oddly intriguing, lighting a spark in her that had no business being lit. She chuckled nervously, trying to recover. “I, No! Of course, I’ll take it seriously. I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I wouldn’t! I was just trying to exchange some friendly banter.”

You narrowed your eyes, clearly skeptical. After a moment, you sighed, realizing it wasn’t worth the energy to argue. “Yeah, okay. That’s good. Let’s start by doing our research on diabetes in the library. Better start from there.”

Lorelai smiled nervously again, her eyes darting to the side as she scratched her arm, a telltale sign of her discomfort. “Actually, I-I had something planned with some of my friends after this class… But I promise I’ll still help!”

Before you could respond, she reached for a pen. “Here’s my number, Do you have a pen by, Oh! Heh, thanks!” You handed her the pen that had been stuck behind your ear for half the class, but when she tried to grab your hand to write on, you yanked it away.

“No. Here’s a sticky note. I don’t want to get ink poisoning from some girl’s phone number.”

Some girl? Did you not know who she was? Lorelai stared at you, stunned by your indifference. She wasn’t used to being dismissed like that. You shook the sticky note in front of her face, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“See you later,” she said, still flustered, “Next time you work on the project, p-please invite me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you muttered as you turned to walk away. “As if you’d come…”

As the days passed, Lorelai found it hard to forget your strange, cold demeanor. Even some of her ‘friends’ began noticing her mind wandering during conversations. It was odd, she thought, how that brief encounter stuck with her. Normally, people came and went in her life without much impact. But you were different. You didn’t seem impressed by her, and that nagged at her, stirring a curiosity she hadn’t expected.

At first, she tried to brush it off. You were just another project partner, someone she’d never thought twice about before. But when you hadn’t texted or reached out in any way, concern started to creep in. What if she’d offended you somehow? Lorelai wasn’t used to people staying angry at her. She was used to charming her way out of any misunderstanding, but something about this situation felt different.

By Tuesday, Lorelai decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She wasn’t one to obsess over things, but this situation, you, felt unresolved. It itched at the back of her mind. She’d skipped the evening medicine class plenty of times, but tonight, she couldn’t bring herself to miss it. If only to clear the air. Maybe, once you two talked, this lingering unease would go away.

She arrived late, of course, distracted by the usual mindless chatter of her friends, but she did show up. That had to count for something.

Sliding into the seat next to you, Lorelai tried to catch your eye, but you seemed utterly absorbed in the lecture. She smiled, a soft, almost shy curve of her lips, something out of character for her. But when you didn’t even acknowledge her presence, that smile faltered.

Tentatively, she reached out, her hand lightly patting your thigh, expecting the usual warmth of recognition. But when you looked at her startled, confused, there was no warmth. Instead, there was an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Disdain? Annoyance?

“Hi! Sorry for scaring you,” she whispered quickly, eager to close the distance that seemed to have opened up between you. “I noticed you didn’t text me after Friday, so I thought I’d check in, make sure you didn’t start working alone. I’m here to help, of course.”

But instead of relief or understanding, your eyes narrowed. “I did text you,” you muttered, voice cold and firm. “Maybe you should check your messages.”

The words cut through her like ice. Had you? Impossible. She would have noticed. She always kept her phone on her, never missing a single message from anyone. She’d know if you had reached out.

Fumbling through her phone, her confidence wavered as she scrolled through countless unread texts. And there, hidden in plain sight, were your messages.

Her stomach dropped.

Saturday, xx, xxxx: Hey, it’s your project partner. I’m going to the library to research insulin for our project. If you’re coming, I can grab you coffee.

Sunday, xx, xxxx: Going to the library again to research more meds. Join if you can.

Monday, xx, xxxx: I finished the project. I included you where I could. Submitting it tonight.

For the first time in a long while, Lorelai felt truly ashamed. You’d been reaching out, offering olive branches, and she had ignored every one of them. You had every reason to be upset. As the weight of her mistake sank in, she looked up at you, her voice small and shaken. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t see them. I swear, I just, ”

Your sharp look cut her off, the anger in your eyes almost startling. “It doesn’t matter. I gave you the credit. Now, leave me alone.”

The coldness in your voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she fell silent. People didn’t speak to her like that. Ever. The weight of your dismissal clung to her long after the lecture ended, and as she walked home that night, her mind kept circling back to the interaction. You weren’t just mad, you had no interest in forgiving her.

Over the next few days, she found herself replaying the scene in her head. At first, it was a matter of guilt. She’d never meant to dismiss you like that, and she told herself she just wanted to apologize properly. But as the days stretched on, something shifted. You really didn’t care, did you? There was no attempt on your end to smooth things over, no effort to reconcile. You weren’t trying to get back into her good graces.

That... intrigued her.

Lorelai had never met someone who could brush her off so completely. She found herself wondering more about you, where you hung out, what your life was like outside of school. You weren’t like the others, the people who fawned over her or sought her attention. You were indifferent, and that indifference bothered her more than it should have.

Tuesday class rolled around again, and she showed up, not for the lecture, but to see if you were there. Her friends noticed the change, making offhand comments about her ‘mysterious project partner.’ Lorelai just smiled, deflecting their questions. She hadn’t told them how strange you made her feel. They wouldn’t understand. No one else ever made her question herself like you did.

This time, when she saw you seated in the hall, she hesitated. You hadn’t forgiven her, she knew that, but there was something about your anger that pulled her in. She took a seat a few rows behind, watching you for a while, studying how you scribbled notes with such focus. You hadn’t looked up once.

How could you act like she didn’t exist?

She told herself it was just curiosity. You were a puzzle to her. She’d find a way to fix this, to make you see her differently. And maybe then, everything would go back to normal.

But things didn’t go back to normal. The more you ignored her, the more she found herself thinking about you outside of class. You were unlike anyone she’d ever met. The anger, the coldness, it wasn’t something she was used to, and it fascinated her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

Weeks passed, and Lorelai began finding excuses to cross paths with you more frequently, though she made it look casual. A wave in the hallway, a brief, fleeting glance during lectures, little things that seemed insignificant. But she was paying attention to the details. The way you carried yourself, the people you spoke to (which were few), the way you brushed off her presence like it meant nothing.

Slowly, her thoughts began to shift. What had started as guilt for a missed message turned into an obsession with understanding you. You weren’t just another person to her anymore, you were a challenge, someone she needed to figure out. Why didn’t you like her? Why didn’t you care? You weren’t cold to everyone, just to her.

The idea that someone could reject her so fully began to gnaw at her. She needed to fix it. She needed to know why.

But with every rejection, every sharp comment or dismissive glance, Lorelai’s need for your approval grew. It was subtle at first, a passing thought, a lingering glance. But over time, she found herself looking for you in places she knew you’d be, lingering longer than necessary in class just to feel that tension between you.

Each new interaction, no matter how brief, only fueled her need to understand you more. And the more she tried to fix things, the worse it got.

By the time a few months had passed, Lorelai was fully consumed by her need to be acknowledged by you. She had abandoned most of her old friendships, her focus narrowing entirely on you. Every move you made fascinated her, the way you seemed so unaffected by her presence, even as she became more desperate to understand you. It was maddening.

You had no idea how much space you were beginning to take up in her mind. And she would never admit it out loud, but she knew this wasn’t normal. No one had ever gotten under her skin like this before.

It had been months now. Months of you trying to shake her off, but Lorelai clung to you like a shadow, always there, always hovering just close enough to make her presence felt. Her apologies, once so constant, had evolved into something far more unsettling, a desperate, needy devotion that you couldn’t seem to escape.

She never left your side, always lingering just a few steps behind, waiting for any small scrap of attention. Her eyes never left you, watching, waiting, hoping for even the slightest glance. It was as if her entire world now revolved around you, her every thought consumed by how to stay close, how to keep you from drifting away.

You had tried everything to avoid her, changing your routes, ignoring her messages, even switching seats in lecture halls. But Lorelai always found you. Always managed to squeeze herself into your world, her presence pressing in on you like a weight you couldn’t shake off.

Today, it was worse. She had followed you again, walking silently behind you as you made your way to your favorite secluded spot on campus, the far east garden near the cadaver storage. You had come here hoping for some peace, but Lorelai, ever-persistent, had trailed after you like she always did.

“I missed you today,” her voice broke the silence, the tone dripping with an almost pitiful longing. “You didn’t sit in your usual spot… I thought something had happened to you.” Her words were soft, trembling slightly as though the mere idea of you being out of her reach caused her genuine distress.

You clenched your fists, the irritation boiling inside you. She never stopped. Always prying, always looking for something to cling to. “I’m fine,” you snapped, your patience fraying. “And I need to be alone.”

But Lorelai didn’t back away. If anything, she stepped closer, her eyes wide and pleading as though your words hadn’t even registered. “You don’t really mean that,” she murmured, her voice soft and fragile, like a glass about to break. “I know you’re just upset. But I can make it better. Let me help, okay?”

You stiffened, feeling her desperation like a physical force. It was suffocating. “Lorelai,” you hissed, your voice sharp, “I don’t need your help. I need space. You need to leave me alone.”

But instead of retreating, Lorelai’s eyes filled with a sudden intensity, a wild gleam of desperation sparking in them. “No, no, you don’t mean that,” she said quickly, shaking her head as if she could will your words away. “You’re just saying that because you’re stressed. You always say that when you’re upset. But I can fix it. I can make things right, I promise. I just need more time with you, that’s all.” Her voice cracked at the edges, the strain of holding herself together evident in every syllable.

You felt your pulse quicken, panic bubbling beneath the surface. “Are you insane?” you finally shouted, spinning around to face her. “I’ve told you a thousand times to leave me alone! What part of that don’t you get?”

For a moment, Lorelai froze, her eyes wide with shock. But the hurt you expected never came. Instead, her face softened, her lips trembling as she reached for you, her hand stopping just short of touching your arm. “No… you don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You need me. You might not realize it yet, but you do. I can’t leave you. I can’t!” The desperation in her voice hit you like a wave, her neediness palpable, like she couldn’t survive without being near you.

Your frustration exploded. “You’re suffocating me! Do you understand that? You’re obsessed!” You stepped back, putting more distance between the two of you, but Lorelai followed, her movements frantic now, her eyes wild with fear.

“No, please, ” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I’ll do better, I swear. I can be what you need. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it! Please don’t push me away. I-I need you!” Her words tumbled out, her hands clasped tightly together as though begging for your mercy.

“I don’t want anything from you!” you shouted, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. “I want you to leave me the hell alone! Can’t you see how much you’re ruining everything? How much I hate this?”

Lorelai’s breath hitched at the word “hate,” her eyes watering as though the thought of your rejection was more painful than anything she could imagine. But instead of breaking, her lips twisted into a soft, almost adoring smile.

“You’re only saying that because you’re scared,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I know it’s hard for you to let someone in, but I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You stared at her in disbelief, your stomach churning. Was she serious? Did she not hear a word you just said?

“Lorelai, you’re insane!” you barked, trying one last time to get through to her. “You’re not ‘helping’ me. You’re stalking me. You’re obsessed. I don’t want anything to do with you!”

For a second, you thought maybe, just maybe, your words had finally pierced through. Lorelai stood there, blinking rapidly, her eyes wide and glassy, as if processing what you had just said. But then, slowly, her lips curved into a smile, a needy, fragile thing that looked more like a cry for validation than an actual expression of joy.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered softly. Her voice was laced with an almost pitiful hope, a hope that you would just stop resisting and finally give in. “You’re just… upset. I know you don’t hate me. You couldn’t. I’m the only one who understands you, who can be there for you when everyone else leaves. I won’t leave you. I can’t.”

She took another step closer, her hands trembling as they reached toward you, as if touching you could somehow solidify her place in your life. You stepped back instinctively, but Lorelai didn’t seem to notice, her eyes were locked onto yours, wide and filled with a raw, desperate need for your approval, for your attention.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. “Don’t shut me out. I’ll be better, I promise. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. Just… don’t leave me. I’ll make everything perfect. You’ll see.”

You could hardly breathe. The sheer weight of her obsession, her need for you, was overwhelming, suffocating. You had to make her understand. “I don’t care what you do,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “I don’t care if you apologize a million times. I want nothing to do with you, Lorelai. Get that through your head. Just leave me alone.”

But her eyes only softened more, as if your harsh words were nothing but the fleeting tantrums of a child who didn’t know what was good for them. “You’re just confused,” she whispered, “and that’s okay. I’ll help you. I’ll fix this.” She nodded to herself, already convinced of her version of reality. “You’ll understand one day.”

Her voice was soothing, like she was the one comforting you, her needy, obsessive gaze never wavering.

“Lorelai, just, ” you started, but she cut you off, stepping even closer, her voice a pleading, broken whisper.

“Please,” she said again, “just give me one more chance. Just one more, and I’ll make everything better. I promise. You’ll see. You’ll need me, just like I need you.”

It was terrifying. Her obsession had bloomed into something so twisted, so far beyond anything you had anticipated. And now, her desperation was laid bare, her entire sense of self wrapped up in this delusional, obsessive need to be everything for you. She wasn’t just stalking you anymore; she was trying to anchor herself to you, like she’d collapse without your attention.

“I don’t need you,” you said quietly, taking a deep breath. “And I never will.”

But Lorelai only smiled, a broken, fragile thing. “You say that now,” she whispered. “But I know the truth. And you will, too. One day.”

#yandere x reader #gn reader #yandere x darling #oc x reader #tw yandere #gender neutral #yandere oc #x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere #female yandere #female yandere x reader #soft yandere #yandere female #yandere blog #Lorelai Marlowe

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bucketfullofstrawberries · 5 months ago

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Unrelated to previous hatred of my son (/silly),

I love seeing my Narrators, especially (& mainly) Edgar, interact with other Narrators. It's so cutesy to me like- YES, make friends!!! THRIVE, BOY!!

If you happen to be a Narrator (or literally. Anyone ever) and you found a Wild Edgar & he walked up to you ,or vice versa, he'd be EXTREMELY friendly. He'd already be complimenting you right off the bat, bless his heart. He likes to make people feel good about themselves - but his compliments are also. Genuinely sincere. He absolutely thinks whoever he's talking to looks lovely on this particular day. To some, he may seem a little overly sweet but he's really just one big, happy ball of sunshine with a tail and pronouns. There's nothing to really lose here and he wouldn't be offended if whomever it may be just. Wandered away. He'd simply smile and give a little wave off before going about his day

He also likes to give gifts! ...a lot. Mainly hand made things, varying from crocheted scarves to whole entire china sets, paintings or weaponry, if you so happen to require it. But his main, go-to gift is giving out flowers! He's got quite a bit of fixation on them, its one of his BIG special interests, really. He knows all different kinds of flower symbolism and loves to gift flowers with each flower coordinating to how he sees a person/what message he wishes to convey! All wrapped up nice and neat in a lovely big bow!

If you need something buying for you? No worries, he's got it covered with his little Infinite Money Glitch (aka having literal God on his side). Need help finding where you are? He's probably got a map on him but he'd be happy to take you there and chit-chat on the way! Feeling blue? Don't sweat it, he'll be right there with you if you need a helping hand! Be it providing himself as a shoulder to cry on and a rock to lean against, or simply making sure you're well fed, hydrated and comfortable then otherwise leaving you be, depending on your preferences!

He's SUCH a big softie as he's developed (in Paraverse canon) over the years.. and I can't express this enough, he'd still be absolutely thrilled to make new familliars and acquaintances across this largely diverse obscure universe!! So when he does, it makes not only him, but also ME - very, VERY giddy.. 💞

#the stanley parable #tsp #tsp narrator #berri rambles about shit #berri stuff #god im autistic hello chat #edgar vincent marlowe

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gncrezan · 2 months ago

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been chatting with @kacetheplace (MWAH thanks for 'yes-anding' me all the time) and as i dug myself into a "hey, how can our @infamous-if mcs interact while being canon compliant somehow?" hole, i realised aki's original profession as a hairstylist could actually slot quite well into infamous. and now i'm here with this 😭😭 and also because i can't help but pair him and august up despite him not even being the lead singer in this au... LOVE FINDS A WAY OR SOMETHING.

more doodles of marlow n aki in the same room . i think they have to be in seperate universes cause otherwise the world would collapse around them . i can only contain them for so long

#please like and subscribe if you would in fact romance this loser if he was an npc <3 #this is what it looks like when aki doesnt go through the trials of having a homoerotic friendship that goes badly #this also assumes crazy mc-seven history . its inescapable for some poor soul but this time aki dodges the bullet #and crazily this is also the universe where him n seb would work quite well together. a lack of seven means he's so well adjusted that like #he would like to settle down and wouldnt mind being a stepdad. which is one of the biggest infamous-canon hangups he has wrt seb. LOLLLL #akihiro yasumi #august pierce #infamous if #infamous #seven lawless #orion quinn #my art #long post

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the-californicationist · 1 year ago

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Guile & Guilt (Ch. 06)

Johnny texts you while he's deployed, but when he calls you one night, you are forced to face your consequences.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

OCTOBER, MONDAY MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER

Your apartment was bathed in the cold gray light of a foggy morning, and you curled your duvet closer around you trying to stave off the dawn’s chill. You’d been awake for a while, which was very uncharacteristic of you. Usually more of a late riser, the only reason for your early bird behavior was Johnny MacTavish.

He was three hours ahead of you, and every morning, when the sun came up in the Urzikstani hillside, you were sent an image of Johnny’s hand, clutching whatever his breakfast was that day. Sometimes it was a tin cup of black coffee, other times you’d get a banana or a protein bar. But, it was always his giant hand and a sherbet orange sky. This morning, it was cloudy and dark, and his breakfast of choice was a slab of toast, smeared with butter and jam.

MoChroi: sunrise_sand.jpg

You: wow. quite the delicacy today. cant believe you found actual jam out there

Mo Chroi: bit suspicious. when the food gets better the missions get worse

You: uh oh

Mo Chroi: dinnae fash thief xx

Mo Chroi: writing today?

You: yep. and meeting with my prof

Mo Chroi: what ya got on then

Mo Chroi: give us a show bonnie

Mo Chroi: is it naughty?? lol

You: nope

You: rangers_tee.jpg

You sent a photo of your torso, cutting out your head, wearing his own tee shirt. His typing bubbles percolated along the bottom of the screen immediately. Then, an indignant response:

Mo Chroi: thief!! xx

You: youre the one who stole my hair tie

Mo Chroi: hairtie.jpg

Mo Chroi: needed a hostage

Mo Chroi: your bad habits are rubbin off. stole cap’s clothes out of the shower this morning

Mo Chroi: price_hat.jpg

You: you learn quick mo chroi

His typing bubbles appeared, and then they disappeared. You watched them pop up in the chat and then vanish three more times until finally all you got was silence. This was a common occurrence, so you tried not to overthink it. Over the past two weeks of texting with him, you knew he disappeared sometimes. He’d get a call to go into the field, or there would be some crisis. You wondered if his captain had discovered his prank.

The room was still cold, and you were reluctant to leave your cocoon of warmth, but you needed to write. You had promised yourself that you’d go into the office early today before your meeting with your major professor. After a deep sigh and some very challenging mental gymnastics, you stuck a leg out and onto the frigid concrete floor.

Your apartment was very modern. So modern, in fact, that it had been a challenge to make it feel homey. There was very little room inside for anything more than a queen bed, a short futon, and your desk. Your bathroom was sleek and full of brutalist, functional, concrete stylings, but the kitchen was barely big enough for a sink and a toaster oven. You had kept the futon for guests, not that you had many (any) visitors, but aside from the stacks of books in the corners of each room, your entire studio was practical to a fault.

But, it was enough for you and your rescue cat, Marlowe, so you didn’t complain.

On the wall opposite the front door, a huge plexiglass window overlooked the River Kelvin, conveniently situated right across from some student housing so you could access the bus. Not having a car went against your Floridian roots, but you’d fallen in love with the ease of public transportation.

After throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you slipped on your wellies and headed to the bus stop. You’d brought a big thermos of coffee, ready to face the day.

Your phone buzzed again.

Pidge: I’m so excited to see you this weekend!! :D

You: me too! is hammie picking me up after all or no

Pidge: Yes, I told him to be at the platform at 4.

You: cool

Pidge: Have you spoken with my brother?

You paused for a moment, riding the elevator and staring at your phone. You didn’t want to lie to her, but you probably shouldn’t tell her the truth. The truth was that you’d been texting her brother every day since he left for leave. You went with a half-truth instead:

You: yeah a few times why

She did not respond. You waited for the other shoe to drop like a blindfolded prisoner waits for their firing squad. The bus came to your stop, and you climbed on, sitting on the carpeted seat closest to the door, knowing your stop was only three away.

When you got to your office, your phone buzzed again. You set your bag and your coffee down before you even looked at it, avoiding touching your cell as if it had thorns.

You flipped over the screen.

Mo Chroi: make it to the office?

You: office.jpg

Mo Chroi: have a good day today thief

Mo Chroi: helicopter1.jpg

Mo Chroi: going on a wee trip. afk xx

You: promise xx

Mo Chroi: promise xx

Promise. Promise. It was you and Johnny’s little code. You hadn’t liked hearing about his “little trips” in the beginning, especially after he had shown you a photo of his truck, riddled with bullet holes. You used to say “good luck”, but you didn’t like that sound of that. You hoped luck had nothing to do with it. So, you just asked him to promise to text you back or to promise to be safe. And he always replied that he promised he would. Now, it had shortened to your one-word ritual. You always said it and he always said it back.

Another buzz:

Pidge: No reason. He has my phone charge the little nugget.

You: omg lol

You were not laughing out loud. If anything, you were sighing in relief.

It took most of the morning, but you fell into a routine. You had your meeting, came back, and wrote some more. Lunch was a pre-packaged lunch box from the student center and a refill on your coffee. You missed dinner. The sun set on you as you finished a critical section of your thesis, looking it over for flow and mistakes.

Worn out, and finally feeling hungry again, you checked your phone on your way back to the bus stop. No new messages. You waited for the bus, flipping through his photos again as if you would have forgotten them from when you looked at them from last night. Or the night before last.

You stopped looking at them, challenging yourself to have a non-Johnny thought in your head for once.

Maybe you would make a ramen with eggs in it tonight.

Maybe he’ll text you back.

You could watch another episode of that K-drama you liked.

Maybe he’ll send you a picture of him shirtless.

You could go for a run.

Maybe he will run his tongue back over your —

The bus came. You blocked out your thoughts from your mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control.

THURSDAY NIGHT

It had been three days, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You tried not to think about all of the terrible reasons why that might be the case. But, you did. You thought about them all the time. Every time you checked your phone or read an email or scrolled through your feeds; it was the only thing you thought about.

You had his shirt on again, eating leftover Chinese on your futon. You were thinking about all of the things you needed to take care of before tomorrow. It was Pidge’s bridal shower weekend and you were trying to wrangle all the final touches together. You’d rented out Ettrick’s, at Pidge’s request, and you had sent the invites two weeks ago. Almost everyone had RSVP’d yes, so you were looking at nearly 45 people to host. The custom bridal cookies were set for pick up when Hamish took you into town tomorrow afternoon, and the champagne was paid for. And you were dreading it.

You were excited to be there for Brigette. She had always been there for you. When you first moved to Scotland, you were well and truly alone. But, she met you for lunch almost every day after class, claiming to need her caffeine fix. But, as time went on, you realized she wanted to be friends. Having no one and being in a new country was so tough, but she had made it feel so easy. So, even though you hated the prim and proper social situation of a shower, you resolved to tough it out.

You put the half-eaten Chinese back in the fridge and climbed into bed. Your phone buzzed as you went to put it on the charger.

Mo Chroi: you up?

Your heart stopped for a moment, making your breath hitch in your chest. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to open his message.

Mo Chroi: camels.jpg

You: omg! are those REAL

You: shes not a camel but ill trade you one critter pic for a Marlowe pic

You: marlowethecat.jpg

Mo Chroi: her cheeks are brilliant lol so big

You: so your mission went okay?

Mo Chroi: lol yeah. and we got the guy who owned the camels to take a cool pic of us. can you tell which one’s me?

Mo Chroi: group_pic.jpg

You: gotta be number 3

Mo Chroi: how’d you know

You: your wide shoulders. and you always stand like that

Mo Chroi: like my shoulders do you

You: yep

You: you should send me a selfie

There was a long pause. You were a little afraid that you’d overstepped a boundary. Sure, his long, hungry tongue had been buried between your legs three weeks ago, eating you like he was starving, but people were cagey about their online privacy. You backtracked:

You: if you want to. nbd if not

Mo Chroi: selfie.jpg

You checked the image, and your heart sank like a stone. Johnny wore a green and yellow bruise over his eye, and his head had been shaved.

You: you okay? bruise looks nasty

Mo Chroi: you should see the other lad

You: and they shaved you?

Mo Chroi: got a nasty wee cut on the back of my head and doc sheared me like a damn sheep

He sent you a series of frowny faces and sheep emojis, and you felt a wave of calm settle in your chest. The latent fear was still there, and would be until you saw him again, but it was good to know he was alright.

FRIDAY MORNING

You were back on the bus, toting around your overnight bag, planning on heading to the train straight after your colloquium lecture this afternoon. Your phone had been beeping at you all morning. Johnny was begging for you to record your talk, asking you to let him sit in on your “class”.

You: johnny its not a class! its just a lecture. we have to give them every now and then to show what we’ve been doing with our research. its not fun. you’d be bored.

Mo Chroi: meirleach! i dinnae care how fun it is. let me see!!

You: campus.jpg

You: look. its all stuffy and campusy. you wouldnt like it

Mo Chroi: youre breaking my heart lass xx

You smiled. He was so bright, and he made you feel like you were so very special. It was no wonder he was such a danger to single women everywhere. Your confidence was soaring.

When you made it to your office, you sent him another picture of your current work. You were writing a short paper on German poems, not really related to your thesis, for a conference coming up in the spring.

You: look. you dont even speak german! it would be like torture

You: german_poem.jpg

Mo Chroi: so cool. im beggin you. let me watch you. i won’t say a word.

You: maybe if you come back a little early from leave next time, you can sneak into one

Mo Chroi: if i survive this training, i will.

Mo Chroi: thinking about seeing you up there teaching. got me all turned on

You sent him an emoji with a shocked look on its face, feigning coy shyness. He was relentless.

Mo Chroi: think youd let me be teachers pet?

You: more like class clown

Mo Chroi: you did seem fond of all of my tricks. wanna see what else i can do?

You: lecture_hall.jpg

You: i have to prep for this talk. keep your naughty thoughts to yourself soldier

Mo Chroi: yes maam

Mo Chroi: wait!

You: what

Mo Chroi: before you go. what color knickers are you in

Mo Chroi: just trying to imagine your lecture

Mo Chroi: with accuracy

Mo Chroi: cmon lass. for extra credit

You smiled down at your phone again, knowing your answer was going to win this little back and forth game he was playing.

You: im not wearing any this morning. gonna do my washing at your place.

Mo Chroi: jesus mary and joseph

You: and all the saints?

Mo Chroi: every one of them xx

Your lecture went off without a hitch. You earned yourself a few crowd questions and a round of polite applause. Stopping back by your office on the way out, you grabbed your laptop and headed for the bus stop. You’d forgotten your phone was on silent, and it wasn’t until you made it to the train station that you realized it. Two missed calls from Pidge and three texts from her brother.

You checked the texts as you returned her call, unable to hold yourself back from seeing what he wrote to you.

She answered quickly,

“Hey! Are you on your way?”

“Yep,” you replied, “I’ll be there around three forty-five, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. I just wanted to tell you that we’re adding two more to the list. Anjali invited Steph and Tiff. Is that alright, babes?”

You tried not to groan directly into the mouthpiece,

“Yes! The more the merrier.”

What were you going to do about the seating chart? You’d figure it out later.

“Fantastic! You’re amazing, hen. You know that?”

“Anything for you, bestie.”

She kissed you over the phone and hung up. You let out that sigh you’d been holding. As much as you loved her, you were ready for your friend’s wedding to be over with..

You checked the messages from Johnny, looking to escape from your thoughts again. He was the perfect distraction.

Mo Chroi: oh fuck no

Mo Chroi: its dog day for training

Mo Chroi: army_dog.jpg

You: you dont like dogs?

Mo Chroi: not these

Mo Chroi: had a bad time with attack dogs in russia a few tours back

The train arrived and you got settled. You weren’t sure how to respond. It was back again, that funny feeling in your chest about him being in constant danger. You didn’t know how to handle it. It wasn’t like you could ask him to stop. That was his job, and he was one of the best. He’d been enlisted on this elite task force, and even though you barely understood what that meant, you knew it was special. What right did you have to stand in the way of his greatness? The world needed Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, and you were just a distraction.

You waited for him to text again, a distraction for you and you for him. A two-way street. That’s all it was, right? How could it be anything more?

You thought about his sister. She’d been so painfully clear about her boundaries. You imagined telling her you liked him, telling her you wanted to date him. She’d explode. There’d be Scottish yelling, and Scottish fighting, and Scottish siblings rowing at each other all over the house. You couldn’t do that to her, especially not now. So, you just went back to distracting him.

You: did you get bitten?

Mo Chroi: yeah, right on the belly. those bastards. can you see it

Mo Chroi: shirtless.jpg

You gasped audibly, hoping no one had heard you on the train. You’d already seen him naked, but having a picture of his bare, muscled torso on your phone was another thing entirely. You glanced around, checking behind you and clutching your screen to your chest, holding it to you shamefully, praying no one saw it.

You typed a message, then deleted it. You tried again, and then deleted it. You knew he could see your text bubbles popping up, and it embarrassed you to no end. Eventually, you decided to just be honest.

You: youre so damn hot

The wait was going to kill you. Seconds became minutes, which became hours, which became eons. You stared at the bottom of your message like it would disappear if you looked away. You opened the picture of his bare torso again, unable to stop yourself from indulging in his huge body. You knew how those muscles felt, and you wanted to feel them again.

He didn’t respond. Your heart sank like a rock. You felt the train screech to a halt at the station, and it took everything in you to pocket your phone and leave the car.

You marched down to meet Hamish, trying to control the look on your face.

“Hey! Over here!” he called to you from the carpark.

You saw his smiling face and tried to match his energy,

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“You bet,” he said as he took your bags.

“Can we stop by the bakery around the corner? They’ve got all the cookies and pastries we ordered for tomorrow.”

“Of course, lass. No problem. Hop in.”

Hamish drove you around, the perfect gentleman, carrying box after box of dessert for his fiance’s shower, storing them carefully in the boot of the car.

“Wow, these smell incredible, don’t they,” he crooned, “Wish I could crash your wee party.”

“No boys allowed,” you said wryly, smiling at him, eliciting a genuine laugh.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. He talked a little about his research, and you shared a bit about yours, mentioning your latest lecture. Otherwise, you checked your phone constantly.

Then, just as you pulled into the driveway of the MacTavish house, you got a text.

Unknown: Hello this is Captain John Price. Sergeant MacTavish’s phone is dead, and he is making me text you the word: promise.

You: oh thank you. can you tell him promise back?

Captain: Roger

Your stomach twisted for a different reason now. He wasn’t upset with you, which was a relief, but he had just shipped out on another mission. It was so sudden, it seemed like an emergency. You saved the captain’s number in your phone, just in case.

After hugging Pidge and helping Hamish with the boxes, you unpacked your bags and started the laundry. You met Pidge in the living room, watching her put the finishing touches on some gift bags.

“These are cute,” you commented, feeling the soft ripple of the ribbons tied around the bags in your fingers.

“Thanks,” she said as she fixed one of the bows, “Hope I made enough.”

“They’ll live,” you smiled.

“Hey, did you hear from Johnny again?”

“Uh…no, why?” You panicked.

“He said he doesn’t have my charger but now that muppet is not answerin’ me. Gonna pop him when he’s down for Christmas, I swear.”

“He’s coming back for the holidays?” You asked, a little too enthusiastically.

Pidge cut her eyes up at you briefly, responding in a measured voice,

“Yeah, just a week. Why?”

You wracked your brain for a reason, pretending to look at the calendar on your phone. Finally, you said,

“Think he’d drive me up from Glasgow? The train is awful at Christmas.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “God, he’s so irresponsible, babes. Not sure I trust him to get you here on time. But, I’ll threaten him. He’ll do it for me. He’s been so accommodating lately. Johnny boy is like a new man.”

“Oh, really?” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but you pried anyway.

“Did you know he paid for the rehearsal dinner? The whole damn thing! Having it at the wee distillery and everything. Right proper party we’ll be havin’. Cannae believe it.”

The Auchentoshan Distillery was Old Kilpatrick’s pride and joy. He’d spent a pretty penny if he’d booked it out for her.

“He loves you,” you confessed softly.

“He tries to,” she said a little bitterly.

You watched her pack up the bags, and you began to wonder about their relationship with each other. It was clear to you that there was some immovable object that was being pressed upon by some unstoppable force. They were at a quiet, bubbling impasse, ready to boil over at any moment. Yes, they loved each other. But, Johnny and Pidge had diverged somewhere, and it was a rift that needed to be mended.

The washer buzzed. You went to move over the clothes.

“I’m heading over to grab the girls. Wanna come?” Pidge asked you, her keys in hand.

“No room,” you observed, realizing they wouldn’t all fit in the car.

“Ugh, guess you’re right, hen. No worry, we’ll be right back. I’m excited to have a girls’ night.”

“Me, too,” you lied.

Well, it was a half-lie. You didn’t mind a girls’ night. It was more the fact that you’d have to hide your phone from view as you waited for Johnny to report he was back safe and sound.

After Pidge left, you crawled into his sheets. The memories of you and your soldier came flooding back again, but this time they swirled together with all of the complexities that you were facing. The simplicity of that brief night you shared had become warped by reality, and you realized you needed to come to terms with your emotions before you got hurt.

FRIDAY EVENING

Your phone buzzed in your hand, waking you. It was warm from being on the charger and covered up by your body. You hoped that didn’t break anything. Sleep had taken you over like a surging wave. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from your week.

Unknown: heyyyyy this is soaps mate kyle. he wanted to let you know we’re back.

You: thanks for letting me know

Kyle: you bet

You were kicking yourself. You should have asked if he was okay. Just when you were about to ask Kyle to check on him, you heard the keys jingle in the door. Swinging your feet to the wooden floor, you got out of bed and met the gaggle of ladies in the foyer.

Cheek kisses, bright hellos and how-are-yous filled the once-quiet house, and you pocketed your phone, trying to distance yourself from the pang of concern.

You tried to keep up with the fast-paced conversation, but you weren’t the social butterfly that Pidge was. Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise were all gushing about their own lives, and you had very little to share. They were polite enough, asking you about your studies and pretending to care when you answered them.

“Oh, cool,” Cherise said, sipping on wine out of one of Pidge’s nicer glasses, “Poems are cool.”

“Yeah, I was Juliet in that one play,” Bekah said, proudly.

“And she’ll never let us forget it either,” Anjali rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.

They were quick to forget you again, turning back to their recent Tinder date disasters and successes.

“And this bloke - the one with the beard thing - he ask me and this other girl to the same restaurant, on the same night! I thought she was gonna kill him right there in front of the maître de!” Anjali lamented.

Cherise smiled like a Cheshire cat,

“Lachlan is taking me on his boat next weekend.”

“We know! Shut up about the boat, you slag,” Bekah clipped.

Cherise shot back quickly,

“You’re just mad ‘cause Soap hasn’t texted you today.”

You gave the girls your full attention now. You darted your eyes to Pidge who rolled them, but looked otherwise unbothered. Bekah turned her phone around and you saw the image she was eager to display,

“He’s on bloody thin ice. I asked for a pic of him in his uniform, and all he sent me was a picture of some nasty sand!”

Your chest clenched tight enough that you couldnt breathe. It was your picture. Your morning photo from a few days ago. He was holding his breakfast, outstretched, and you could even see your hair tie on his wrist, the rolling dunes of the desert stretching out before him into infinity.

“Men, am I right?” Anjali finished her wine.

Maybe she was right.

SATURDAY MORNING

You’d slept beside Anjali that night, sharing the bed willingly but not enthusiastically. She had snored through most of it, and you’d barely gotten any sleep. It wasn’t just her snoring that kept you up. In fact, you were using her as a scapegoat. You had been thinking about Johnny.

It was like you were having a war in your mind. On one hand, it was just a picture of some sand, but on the other, you had no idea how many texts they had shared before or after that. Your heart broke easily, shattering melodramatically, whining about how you weren’t special and that if you didnt control yourself, you’d be sorry for it. He was just a playboy, just like everyone said.

Your brain, however, begged you to see reason. He sent her a picture of sand, not his naked torso, and he had forced his teammates to text you your passcode when he went on his mission. Surely that was enough proof that he cared about you and not Bekah.

It wasn’t enough, said the heart.

It has to be enough, said the head.

It shouldn’t even be happening, said the soul.

You watched the sun peek through the blinds just as they had when you’d been wrapped in Johnny’s arms, naked and warm against his pink skin.

You sighed and got up to shower.

The party was at two, so you had plenty of time. You made it over to Ettrick’s early to help set up, walking alone since you knew the others would be in heels and wouldn’t all fit in the car. You’d brought flats, sensible but stylish, and a comfortable, albeit sparkly, maxi dress. You felt like shit. Sleep would have been nice, you thought.

Hamish had delivered all of the boxes for you this morning, and the wait staff at Ettrick’s was setting it out for you. You rearranged it as artfully as you could, and you were just about finished when your phone buzzed.

Mo Chroi: phone’s alive! sorry i disappeared on you thief. forgive me?

You: glad youre ok

You: party starts soon

You: cookies.jpg

You: dessert_table.jpg

Mo Chroi: wow! did you do all that? pigeon is gonna be chuffed

Mo Chroi: heading out to the next spot

Mo Chroi: helicopter2.jpg

You: want me to tell Bekah hi? she was waiting on you to text her back last night

Mo Chroi: ?? no

Mo Chroi: why

Mo Chroi: what did she say

Mo Chroi: thief?

You: just that she was hoping you would text her back. idk

You thought about it for a little while before sending a final text.

You: i think she wanted more than just a sunrise.

SATURDAY NIGHT

You had three missed calls from Johnny, but you were too busy trying to deal with gift unwrapping, keeping the peace at the over-crowded tables, and rushing out appetizer trays when the wait staff became too overwhelmed. It was chilly tonight, but you were sweating under your long dress.

You thought about what you’d said to Johnny, and you were mad at yourself for trying to get a rise out of him. You didn’t want to be the one playing games, and you needed to curb your jealousy. He was allowed to text whoever he wanted, just like you were.

You: sorry. cant pick up. busy with your sister

You: champagne.jpg

Mo Chroi: answer my calls thief

Mo Chroi: i have to drive the rig but im calling you as soon as we get to our site

Mo Chroi: trucks.jpg

Mo Chroi: at least tell me when you get back. promise

You: promise

SUNDAY, 0200

You: i made it back to my apartment. hamish drove me. train was down for maintenance.

You: marlowe-in-a-bag.jpg

You: marlowe is mad that i was gone

Mo Chroi: im glad youre alright.

Mo Chroi: gaz took this at our training today

Mo Chroi: group_pic2.jpg

You: yall look tough

You: whos the one in the middle

Mo Chroi: thats the captain and ghost has the dog

Mo Chroi: go to bed thief. its late

Mo Chroi: sunrise2.jpg

Mo Chroi: can i call you later? its important

You: ok

SUNDAY, NOON

You woke to the sound of rain. A loud peal of thunder pulled you from the darkness of your sleep. You would have stayed with Pidge, but you just couldn’t face his bed again. Hamish was happy to be your chauffeur, even after you learned that the train was out of service. You tried to buy him some gas, but he adamantly refused.

A headache stung behind your eyes, drilling into you, punishing you for the champagne. You hadn’t been drunk, but it had been sweet, and now you were paying the price for your sugar rush. You checked your phone.

Pidge: hHad such a great night!!. Thanku for everytingf i lov youuuu!!

Pidge: omg Anji just boked inthe sink

You didn’t reply. She was probably still asleep, along with the rest of the household. There was nothing from Johnny, yet. It wasn’t unusual. He was busy with terrorism, you figured. He would text you if he wanted to text you.

Digging in your freezer, you found some leftover soup and put it on to reheat. Your phone rang.

The selfie of you and Johnny at Glencoe flashed onto your screen. You let it ring again before you picked up.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You still asleep, thief. I’m sorry to wake you,” he didn’t sound sorry.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Just making some soup. Rainy here. Cold.”

You: rainy_window.jpg

He groaned, and you could hear the creak of a mattress in the background,

“Mm. Spent the whole day on my belly doing target practice. I miss home.”

Mo Chroi: sniperpractice.jpg

“Yeah? Looks sandy and hot. Too bad there’s no beach,” you stirred the soup.

“I miss you, mo mèirleach.”

You stopped stirring the soup.

“I miss you, too.”

“Do you? Or are you cross about my texting Beks?”

“Both,” you went back to stirring the soup.

“Sent it to Hamish, too. You cross about tha’?”

You sent back silence.

“And if I told you Bekah’s an old friend from grammar school, and that’s all she’ll ever be, would you believe me, lass?”

Silence was all you had to give, apparently. Finally, you poured the soup into a big bowl and set it down on your coffee table, shoving your papers and books aside, and said,

“This soup looks amazing. Wanna see it?”

You: soup.jpg

“Thief. She’s just a friend.”

“I think there’s a song about this actually…”

“I think I’m fallin’ for you, and I need to know if you’re fallin’ for me, too.”

The bite of soup you were about to take hovered in your spoon, frozen in time. You could hear him breathing in your ear, waiting on your response. You could feel your heart shudder in your chest.

“Johnny. We can’t…”

“Don’t. Don’t start with tha’ mess, thief. Tell me you aren’t fallin’ for me, and I’ll stop. No more texts. I’ll leave it alone.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Johnny. I don’t have anybody else, don’t you get that? I’m not even from here. I’m spending Christmas with her because I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have a whole town who loves you, and she’s your sister. She’ll forgive you in a heartbeat.”

“You have me, don’t you, thief?”

“Do I?”

It was his turn to push silence out through time and space, sending it up to the cellular satellites and mirroring it back down to you. Firing frustrated breathing noises across cables and wires and whatever other stupid fucking technology was happening to you right now.

“Alright, lass.”

The phone beeped at you to inform you that the call had ended, but you kept it pinned on the shell of your ear, desperate for even a moment of that silence again. You regretted your honor the moment you’d held it up, and you were angry at yourself for keeping a promise you’d promised to keep.

The phone clattered to the coffee table. The soup went cold.

MONDAY MORNING

There was no sunrise text for you this time. Your phone didn’t have any notifications at all, in fact. You made it all the way to the bus before you caved.

You: bus.jpg

You waited. Then, you waited some more. Nothing happened. You tried not to cry, and you failed. Luckily, the bus was empty, and the driver didn’t care about you enough to ask what was wrong.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

You: stuck in the library today. office is being cleaned.

You: library.jpg

Again, you were met with the cold emptiness of staring at your own responses at the bottom of your messages. You tried not to feel the sting of it, but you failed at that, too.

THURSDAY MORNING

You: giving a lecture today. kinda nervous about this one.

You: lectureroom2.jpg

You: hope youre okay

FRIDAY MORNING

Your phone buzzed three times, waking you up with a jolt. It was still dark outside. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to see the messages.

Kyle: Hey this is Kyle, Soap’s mate. We’re heading back to the black site, so it’ll be a few weeks until you hear from him.

Kyle: airplane_loading.jpg

You: thanks for telling me

Kyle: Soap asked me to tell you he promises?? I think thats what he said.

You: tell him i promise

You: and can you tell him that i made a mistake? he was right. about everything.

You: and im sorry.

Kyle: Will do!

You stared out of the window until the deep purples of night gave way to a cool pink morning glow, and you watched as the sun stretched its gentle arms up and over the river.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter 07

#guile and guilt #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish smut #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mctavish #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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i-only-ever-asked-questions · 3 months ago

Text

Good Omens Through the Decades

UPDATED!

This is a timeline of all the events that have happened related to Good Omens, from its inception to its publication to its future plans; editions, adaptations, failed adaptations and the like.

I originally wanted to have this post ready for the anniversary in May, that didn't work, it just kept getting larger. Then I wanted to do it for the anniversary of Season 2 in July, that didn't work either, for the same reason. So I am just going to post it now, a random date and hope for the best LOL. And guess what? After a fun and fruitful chat with another fan who prefers to remain anonymous, I added a couple of events a few trivia here and there (thank you!). So, a little bit of warning: it is loooong, lots of things have happened in 34 years. At the beginning I was going to put all the references at the end of the post, but they are a lot, so I put them in a document instead.

*Yes, of course I am aware of the allegations. But this is about the history and the world of Good Omens which is so much bigger than one person, even if that person started the whole thing. It is ours now. It is Terry's and Rob's. It is David and Michael's, Douglas McKinnon's, David Arnold's and the rest of the cast and crew. It is Colleen Doran's, Dirk Maggs's, Terry Gilliam's, Vicki Larnach, Jim Hare and Jay James Moody's. It is Stephen Brigg's and Martin Jarvis's. And so many other people who have brought or will bring its many iterations to life. It is the fans'.

1985-1990 - The Book

1985, Jan - Terry and Neil met for the first time when Neil interviewed Terry for Space Voyager magazine after "The Colour of Magic" was published [1,2] *For years they both wholeheartedly believed it had been at a Chinese Restaurant during February. Some time after Terry passed away Neil found his diary for 1985 where the entry said it had been in January at an Italian Restaurant [3]

1987, summer - Neil wrote the first 5000 words of a story and sent it to a few friends, including Terry; "An exchange in Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta, combined with a late night viewing of The Omen and a love of Richmal Compton’s immortal Just William stories, had put a story into my head, about a demonic baby-swap that goes wrong, in which the Antichrist grows up to be a nice kid, with a dog and a gang" [1,4]

1987, Oct - Sandman began and William the Antichrist went into the back back back burner [1]

1988, spring? summer? - Terry called Neil and offered to either buy the idea or write it together; "About a year later I took it out of the drawer and did see what happened next, even if I couldn’t see how it all ended yet" [5]

1988, summer - They wrote it together (do you really need a reference? 😉)

1988-1989 - First draft took about nine weeks. After Richmal Compton's estate did not reply to the request of using William Brown and his world, William became Adam, Pepper and War became female and the book got a new title (Good Omens by Neil) and subtitle (The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry). The second draft took about four months. There were still about five more months of polishing and editing and auctioning and more editing [4,6] *Good Omens was the first Terry book that ever went to auction. It ended up going for £150,000 [7]

1989, Halloween - During the World Fantasy Convention in Seattle, Terry and Neil started plotting what could become the sequel to Good Omens and called it "668 The Neighbor of the Beast" [6,8] *The real-life experience of trying to piece together the plot of a soft porn movie using little free increments from hotels' pay-per-view over time probably made it into the sequel around here [7]

1990, May 10. Book published in the UK - Hardback published in the UK by Victor Gollancz (with whom Terry had already been working) to be followed by paperback by Corgi on May 23, 1991 [8,9] *After the first UK edition was published (Gollancz), several changes were made to the text to make it easier on US readers and to polish it a bit. The new text was used by both the US publishers (Workman) and the UK publishers of the paperback (Corgi). Gollancz was unaware of this alternate text until about 2009. They started using the Workman/Corgi text starting with their next edition in 2014 [9]

1990, Sep. Book published in the US - Hardback published in the US by Workman to be followed by paperback by Berkley on March 1992 [9,10] *UK editions list Terry's name first and US editions list Neil's name first. This was done because Terry was more known in the UK and Neil was more known in the US [7]

1991-2004 - The Movies

1991, Feb - Hollywood Studio Sovereign Pictures hired Terry and Neil to write an adaptation of the book for a movie. The studio had some specific requirements such as Crowley owning a night club, Aziraphale working as a curator for the British Museum, Tadfield with an abandoned pier and a miniature town in it and Satan. They ended up rejecting the script anyway [11] *It was at this point that Terry suggested Buddy Holly's "Every Day" as the theme for Good Omens. In this script some of the angels used for the series got started like Gabriel and Sandalphon and a big sequence had them use their haloes like frisbees inside the British Museum [11,12,13]

1992, Jan. Movie Script - Terry declined to write a second script, but Neil stayed and wrote one. In October the company got taken over and all dreams of a movie died [11,14] *In this script Crowley tries to run away to Alpha Centauri

2001-2002. Terry Gilliam Movie deal - Since about 1999, when he obtained the rights, and throughout the 00's Terry Gilliam tried hard to make a movie. The closest he came to it was in 2001-2002 when he got as far as casting the parts (Johnny Depp as Crowley, Robin Williams as Aziraphale, Mme. Tracey and Hastur, and Kirsten Dunst). But he couldn't get a US studio to invest the last $15M and the movie project collapsed [13,15,16] *Terry had received, back in 1989, a copy of the book asking for a blurb. The letter got lost and he thought the book had been sent as a pitch for a movie [16,17]

2004, Jun 20th - Hill House Publishers created the "Neil Gaiman's Preferred Edition Series" with limited editions of American Gods, Anansi Boys and Neverwhere. As a bonus for the subcribers, Hill House printed the 1992 movie script under the name "A Screenplay." Only 500 numbered and 52 lettered copies were ever made [11,18]

2005-2010 - The Sequel (and the Audiobooks)

2005, Jun - Terry and Neil met at the Audie Awards in New York and plotted a little more of the sequel. This was when the South Downs bit was thought up [19,20]

2005, Dec. Crowley and Aziraphale's New Year's resolutions - The list of resolutions came out sometime between Christmas and New Year's at Harper Collins' website [7] *The well-known idea of Crowley gluing coins to the sidewalk is not in the book at all, it came from this list

2006, Feb 28. New edition - The book was reissued in the US as a hardcover in two different versions. The text is the same but one version has a white cover with Crowley and Neil's name listed first, and a second version has a black cover with Aziraphale and Terry's name listed first [7,21] *This time the explanation for the authors' name order was to make sure the book could be found both under "G" and also under "P"

2006, Jul. Briggs Audiobook - ISIS released in the UK an unabridged audiobook read by Stephen Briggs in CD, MP3CD and cassette (it won the 2008 Audiobook Download of the Year by audible.co.uk) [22,23]

2009, Nov 10. Jarvis Audiobook - HarperAudio released in the US an unabridged audiobook read by Martin Jarvis in CD [24] *Martin Jarvis is the same narrator who recorded the Just William audiobooks, a nice Easter egg related to the origins of the book

2010, Sep 23 - Terry and Neil had dinner at a sushi restaurant in Cardiff and decided that the book should be adapted as a TV series and not a movie anymore (as per Terry Gilliam's advice). And if it goes well, the rest of the story, the unwritten sequel, should be adapted too [8,13,15] *It was around here that the idea of the sushi restaurant cameo with both of them being patrons started

2011-2013 - The Stage (and a failed TV series)

2011, Feb. Terry Jones TV series - Terry and Neil agreed to a deal to adapt the book into a four-part TV series made by Terry Jones and Gavin Scott. At the end they didn't quite like the script though [13,25,26]

2012, Jun - Amy Hoff's The Cult Classic Theatre was granted permission to adapt the book to a stage play [27] *One of the conditions was that no footage would be taken/made available and the script would not be shared/sold

2012, Aug- Narrativia was established as the production company that would handle all of Terry's work adaptations. The production of the TV series and of The Watch were then transferred from Prime Focus [28,29] *Narrativia was first revealed at "The Watch Team Interview" panel during the Discworld 2012 convention on Aug, 26th [28]

2013, Mar. Stage Play - Amy Hoff's play was presented on March 20-23 and 27-30 at the Cottiers Theatre in Glasgow [30]

2013, Apr - BBC drama producer Heather Larmour pitched a radio drama adaptation to the BBC [31]

2013, sometime. The Musical - Vicki Larnarch and Jim Hare, "two hippies from Sydney", had met with Terry and Rob about six months prior. Terry's interest had gotten piqued when they showed him The Chattering Order Nuns song and he asked them to come back with a showstopper and a few more songs. They came back with "All Living Things" and they got the green light to go forward with the adaptation [32]

2013, Dec 11 - In a meeting at The Groucho Club, Terry and Neil enter into talks with the BBC to adapt GO to TV [33]

2014-2015 - The Radio Drama

2014, summer - Dirk Maggs adapted the book into a Radio Drama and gave Terry and Neil a cameo as police officers pursuing Crowley [31,34] *In July, Neil advised Dirk to get Terry's recording asap, before he couldn't do it anymore. They did it in the summer and that day ended up being the last day Neil and Terry saw each other [35]. The rest of the recording happened during autumn [13]

2014, Aug - Terry asked Neil to make the TV adaptation of Good Omens, "I know, Neil, that you are very, very busy, but no one else could ever do it with the passion that we share for the old girl. I wish I could be more involved, and I will help in any way I can" [12] Neil, of course, said yes

2014, Dec. BBC Radio 4 Dramatisation - The six episodes aired between December 22nd and December 27th, 2014 on BBC Radio 4 [36]

2015, Jan 15 - Random House UK released the BBC Radio 4 Dramatisation in CD [37]

2015-2019 - The TV series (and some luxury limited editions)

2015, Mar 12 - Terry passed away 😢

2015, Mar 25 - Terry's funeral. As soon as Neil got back home, he started writing the script for the TV series [12] *Sometimes signed copies of the third draft of the pilot (dated 25 July 2015) appear in eBay

2015 - Jay James-Moody joined the team to produce the musical [32]

2016, Aug 1 - First read-through of the series script [38] *The scripts were finalized right before SDCC 2016 which was held July 21st-24th [39]. Both Maggie Service and Tim Downie were present in this read-through [40]

2017, Sep 18 - 2018, Mar 10. Season 1 shooting - Season 1 started shooting at St. James' park (with the 11 years ago scene) and ended in Cape Town, South Africa [13,41,42] *The read-through before shooting occurred on Sept 13, 2017 [43]

2017, Nov 13 - Full development reading of the musical at the York Theatre in Chippendale, Sydney, Australia [32,44]

2019, Feb 8 - The social media campaign to promote Season 1 started with a tour of the Chattering Order of St. Beryl, an acapella choir that traveled to different cities for events and TV shows [45,46]

2019, Apr 25. The Chattering Order of St. Beryl's video - The video "That Brand New Baby Smell" was released in YouTube [47]

2019, May 3 and 4 - Workshop production of the musical at IPAC in Wollongong, Australia. About ten days before the series premiere Vicki, Jim and Jay showed Neil and Rob a recording of this show [32,44,48] *Although a full recording of the workshop exists, they are not allowed to share it until it is finished

2019, May 21. Companion Book - A companion book to the TV series with interviews and behind the scenes photographs written by Matt Whyman was published by William Morrow [49]

2019, May 21. The Script Book - Headline Publishing Group released a script book in both hardback and paperback (The US edition by William Morrow followed on Jun 11th). All editions of the script book include an "Other Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse" deleted scene. An exclusive edition for Waterstones included an additional deleted scene (Aziraphale in the 1800). A hardback edition limited to 1000 copies with white cover included four different deleted scenes (thugs visiting the bookshop, Leonardo DaVinci, the televangelist and Crowley clothes shopping) and a series of sketches made on set by Lorna May Wadsworth. On Jan 15th of 2020, a paperback edition with the white cover was released; it contained all five deleted scenes from the other editions and a sixth one (Aziraphale trying to sell a book); this edition does not include the sketches however. [9,50] *The script book was created so the production could pay for the death of Agnes Nutter, a scene (and a character) originally written by Terry which was too expensive to film [3]

2019, May 23. The Illustrated Edition - The Pratchett Estate and Neil agreed on a revised definitive text. It was published in five versions collectively called the Definitive Edition. Two versions were published by Gollancz which they called the Illustrated Edition; a standard hardback with black cover and a limited edition in a slipcase with white cover signed by Paul Kidby, the illustrator [51,52]

2019, May 30. "Unholy Night" - The Chattering Order of St. Beryl's released their album "Unholy Night" on Amazon Music and other digital platforms [53]

2019, May 31. TV Series - Season 1 premiered in Prime Video 😊

2019, May 31. Soundtrack - Silva Screen Records released the soundtrack in CD, vinyl and mp3/wav download [54]

2019, Jul. The Definitive Edition - The other three versions of the revised text were published by Dunmanifestin, the company established by the Pratchett Estate to handle Terry's intellectual property. All editions were limited: The Occult Edition (July 1st) with only 1655 copies in a black clamshell box, the Ineffable Edition (July 4th) with 666 copies in a deluxe box including ephemera, and the Celestial Edition, made to order with only 24 copies [52,55]

2019, Aug 2. The BBC Radio Drama Collectors Edition - A vinyl box set by Demon Records included four LPs printed in black and white in illustrated wallets, commentaries by Neil and Dirk and a set of tarot cards. An Amazon exclusive limited edition of 500 sets also included a print signed by Neil [56]

2019, Aug - Neil pitched Season 2 to Amazon [57]

2019, Oct 28. Blu-ray and DVD - Amazon released the series in DVD, Blu-ray and steelbook limited edition Blu-ray (PAL) for the UK. The US version (NSTC) followed on November 5th in both DVD and Blu-ray, there was no steelbook edition for the US market [58]

2019, Dec - John Finnemore joined as co-writer of Season 2 [57] *In this meeting, John stated that he needed to know the ending before he could write so Neil came up with the ending of Season 2 in about 5 minutes right there and then

2020-2025 - TV Series Season 2, a new Audiobook and some other adjacent projects

2020, May 1st. Lockdown Video - A short video about a phonecall between Crowley and Aziraphale was created by Narrativia and The Blank Corporation for the 30th anniversary of the book. It was released in the the official YouTube account of the Terry Pratchett Estate (@terrypratchett6025) [59]

2020, summer - Neil started writing the script for Season 2 beginning with the opening scene for episode 1 [57] *The last scene written was Gabriel organizing the books by first letter of first line. It was planned as the last scene for Episode 2 but at the end got moved to another place [60]

2020, Sep 16 - Season 2 was officially greenlit (along with Anansi Boys) [61]

2021, Mar 26 - The Hillywood Show announced the Good Omens parody project [62]

2021, Jun 29 - Amazon announced Season 2 in a press release [63]

2021, Oct 18 - 2022, Mar 1. Season 2 shooting - Season 2 started shooting in the Bathgate studio. Some scenes were shot on location in different parts of Edinburgh and other areas [64,65] *The read-through happened over October 14th and 15th, three episodes per day [66], David had to attend via zoom since he was still in isolation from Georgia's covid [67]. On the other hand, Michel McKean (Shadwell in Season 1) was present for that zoom read-through but had to be drop out also for covid reasons [68]. Peter Davison (David's-father-in law) was asked to play Job's part after shooting had started (possibly replacing Michael McKean?) and Ty Tennant (David's son) was cast too after shooting had started but through audition [69]. Maggie Service was in the very first shot of the season and also in the last day, first one in last one out as she said [70]

2021, Nov 2. Full Cast Audiobook - HarperAudio released in the US a full cast audiobook with Michael Sheen as Aziraphale and David Tennant as Crowley. The audiobook was later released in the UK on January 14th, 2022 [71,72] *The original cover for the audiobook was designed by Henry Sene Yee; a lavender background with drawings of Crowley and Aziraphale facing away from each other. After Season 2 was released, the cover changed to one of the promotional posters [73]

2023, Mar 15. Good Omens HQ - The Terry Pratchett Estate and Neil Gaiman created Good Omens Headquarters. The headquarters launched official accounts in several social media platforms and a website that keeps track of collector's items as they are being revealed [74]

2023, May 10. Good Omens Parody - The Hillywood Show's parody premiered in their YouTube channel (thehillywoodshow) [75] *Amazon Video partnered with Hillywood to announce the premiere date for Season 2 within their parody video. Neil, Maggie Service and Daniel Mays appeared as guests

2023, Jul 28. TV Series Season 2 - Season 2 premiered in Prime Video 😊 *As part of the promo campaign two days before the premiere, Amazon screened the first two episodes in cinemas in several cities free for Amazon Prime members

2023-2024 - The Graphic Novel

2023, Aug 1. Graphic Novel - The Kickstarter campaign to fund the graphic novel adaptation with Colleen Doran as illustrator launched [76] *At its closure, 36,867 backers had pledged £2,419,973 (notice it is pounds, not dollars)

2023, Aug 25. Season 2 Soundtrack - Silva Screen Records released the soundtrack for season 2 in CD, vinyl and mp3/wav download [54]

2023, Dec 14 - Season 3 was officially greenlit [77]

2024, Apr 18 - The Graphic Novel Pledgemanager site launches for people who missed the Kickstarter campaign or to add extras to an already existing pledge [78]

2024, Jul 13 - Vicki Larnach, Jim Hare and Jay James Moody appeared as virtual guests at Nullus Anxietas 9, the Australian Discworld Convention 2024 held in Adelaide, to talk about recent push for the musical [79]

2025 - The Future

2025, January - Season 3 is scheduled to begin filming [80]

2025, Spring - Graphic novel is scheduled to be released [76] *The original release date was in July of 2024, however in April of 2024 it was announced that it would need to be pushed to the Spring of 2025 (Update #20)

There should be a special mention of a fan created musical parody for YouTube that was in development in Russia by 62Media. This was completely fan made and not connected to the Pratchett Estate, Neil, the BBC or Amazon (which is why it is not in the list). Unfortunately it had to shut down due to COVID [81]

Fun fact: During the tour to promote the book, back in 1989-1990 the song "Shoehorn With Teeth" by They Might Be Giants became the unofficial anthem of the tour since that is what they always ended up singing when things went too crazy [82]

#good omens #good omens book #good omens movie script #good omens musical #good omens stage play #good omens graphic novel #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #good omens radio drama #good omens through the ages (I mean decades)

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goodsgraces · 9 days ago

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accomplished getting down to single digit drafts again which means i get to post my monthly little starter / plotting call while i get to other things . . . like this and i'll dm you to chat & ask for your preference !

existing muses i want to write :

jesse erickson . harris dickinson . tattoo artist . he / they .

margot dai . havana rose liu . nanny . she / her .

beau kinsey . kyle gallner . mechanic . he / him .

tyler dupont . zendaya . figure skater . she / her .

alexis laurent . madelyn cline . musician . she / they .

tori cabrera . nailea devora or jenna ortega . fashion intern . she / her .

charlie xu jett . chase sui wonders . dj . she / they .

emerson caine . josh o 'connor . filmmaker . he / him .

test muses :

camden barrett reid . callum turner . museum guide . he / him .

reece marlowe . alex fitzalan . waiter / biology uni student . he / him .

jackson bailey . louis patridge . musician . he / him .

delilah madden . ella purnell . photographer . she / her .

bianca flores . fiona palomo . pastry chef . she / her .

desired plots :

bones and all - esque plot . . . two c*nnibals on the road together who are literal partners in crime . likely started as total strangers and we can start there or plot something more established .

midnight mass - esque plot . . . residents of a small town start to notice the town begin to change after a newcomer comes to town . tragedy ensues . can be the preacher like the show or can be a new resident !

something based on what happens in vegas . . . two strangers have a fun , drunken night out where they get married and win a jackpot . when they sober up , they realize they'll have to act married to ensure they get to split the money .

a plot based on my best friend's wedding . . . two muses made a pact to get married by a certain age and one is getting married at the exact age they said they'd marry one another .

any sort of exes plot . . . i'm craving angst and turmoil , i fear .

more wlw and mlm plots ! i'm waving my silly little rainbow flag !

anything from my wishlist tag .

#indie rp #indie bi rp #tagging it but . . . mutuals . . . hi . . .

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cagenewman · 1 year ago

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You've got to be the only person I know who would up and move closer to the beach... at the tail end of summer. All I'm saying is you're hosting summer barbecues next year and you better get used to it. Jokes aside, when are we moving you in?

I guess... I'm the proud owner of a townhouse? You'll never get rid of me now, Merrock. And if you're near the shore, I'm sorry to say you'll have to get used to seeing me around more often.

#talking with marlow #;; the way i was gonna message you to see if you wanted a gif chat with these two and then you did this! <3

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lambsouvlaki · 1 year ago

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For the Hell of it - Coming Home

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: SFW

Word Count: 1257

Summary: Jason comes home from a long trip away from Gotham and visits Andy. Both of them try very hard to pretend they're not yearning.

Masterlist

Jason arrived back to Gotham after two months in space.

He was sore, tired, and annoyed. He hated space. There was never enough room, the food was terrible, and no matter how much you liked your fellow voyagers, the close quarters and endless hours with nothing to do meant he spent the whole time in endless petty arguments.

He was pretty sure he owed half the Outlaws apologies for the stupid shit he said on the ride home.

He dumped his bag of gear in the doorway of his cold apartment. The lights took a second to come on and bathed the rooms in bleak white light. He pulled out his phone and saw the backlog of messages and calls. He scrolled past and deleted most of them.

Andy had sent him a backlog of memes. A tired smile tugged at his mouth.

He had thought giving her some space while he was in actual space would probably be good for both of them. He hadn’t had this much to do with someone outside of the hero scene since before his death. It wasn’t fair to her when she didn’t know the danger inherent with his company.

He chuckled at a hideous meme about Nicholas Nickleby. Damn, he had missed her.

He’d forgotten just how stabilising it was to have civilian friends. How relaxing it was. It kind of weirded him out sometimes. No wonder Dick was always hassling Bruce to go socialise.

He flipped her a message, letting her know he was back.

He shucked off his shirt and took a shower. He rewrapped his bandages but couldn’t be bothered shaving. His stubble was really just a beard by now. Tomorrow’s problem.

In a towel and slippers he wandered back through his apartment. Was it always so draughty? He’d forgotten to turn the heating on or close the curtains. He pulled the fridge open.

It was completely empty.

He tipped his head back and sighed for about a million years.

Of course he’d cleared everything out before he left. He wasn’t an idiot. And there was plenty of shelf stable food in the pantry, he could technically feed every bat in the city for a year, but he was not eating rehydrated food from a packet tonight. He refused.

His phone buzzed on the counter. He flipped it over. Andy’s face glowed next to a message asking if he wanted to come over for dinner.

‘Got a giant pot pie in the oven,’ she said.

He grinned. He wasn’t going to say yes, all he needed was a quiet night decompressing. Still. The thought counted.

He opened a delivery app.

Andy sent him a photo. Her giant dog’s soulful eyes and fluffy snout took over the screen.

‘Marlow doesn’t want you to eat sad take out in a sad empty apartment.’

‘My apartment isn’t sad,’ he replied.

‘But it doesn’t have Marlow. Who’s begging will you cave to and give the scraps from your plate?’

‘Marlow makes a compelling case.’

He flicked back to the delivery app. He scrolled by pizza and stir fry and curry. He opened the fridge again. Still empty.

He opened the chat.

‘What kind of pot pie?’

‘Beef burgundy.’

He leaned his head against the fridge door.

‘I’ll be there in twenty

‘😀’

He threw some pants and an old shirt on and grabbed a bottle of wine from the depths of his pantry.

Shortly after he climbed the stairs to Andy’s apartment. It was a nice enough spot for Crime Alley, a corner apartment on the top level. The elevator didn’t work, the paint was peeling, and the balcony was technically condemned, but the landlord hadn’t put the rent up in five years. A steal.

He heard excited dog noises from behind the door before he even knocked. His shoulders relaxed.

The door swung open a moment later and Andy grinned up at him, the vanguard of a wave of wave air that enveloped him. He was holding a bottle of wine, she was holding a potato peeler. He folded her into a hug. She squeezed him happily.

She took the wine, and he soon found himself sitting on the living room floor, his back against the couch, with a giant happy dog sitting on his legs. He was warm and sank into a puddle of golden afternoon light. Delicious smells wafted in from the kitchen and MASH reruns played quietly on the tv. He had somehow ended up holding the potato peeler.

“Can I help?” he called, even though he suspected if he had to stand up again he might just cry.

Andy laughed from the kitchen. “Absolutely not.”

He draped his arms over Marlow’s back, and let his head fall back against the couch. A contented huff came from the dog. Jason closed his eyes.

When next he opened them the light had changed.

The curtains were closed. A reading lamp off to the side cast diffuse orange light across the room. The opening credits for a later season of MASH played quietly on the tv.

He turned his head, groggy and unconcerned. Andy sat curled up on the couch behind him and to the side. He spied a scraped empty plate next to her and an open book on the arm rest. The dog had dragged over his bed and was sleeping next to both of them.

He looked up at her for a moment, studying her. The curl of her hand against her cheek. The little flyaway of her hair curling over her forehead. One shoulder of her cardigan slipping down her arm. Her toes tucked under a couch cushion. If he was a painter, he would want to paint her here, now.

“Dinner’s in the oven for you,” she said quietly.

His stomach reminded him of how pressing a concern that was.

He clambered up with a groan. Marlow came along to the kitchen to see what he was doing, and then back again to sit optimistically at his feet.

Jason sat next to Andy on the couch and ate his fill.

“I forgot how good a cook you are,” he moaned.

She beamed.

He pointed with his fork. “My turn, next time. I owe you.”

Her smile turned lazy. “Sure. Next time I fall off the map for two months and resurface with a beard and a full week of sleep debt, you can do the cooking.”

He narrowed his eyes while chewing his mashed potatoes. “Cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“Yeah I am. Fuckin’ adorable.”

“Missed you, Jay.”

Something thick lodged in his throat. Too much, it was too much, if he opened his mouth something stupid would come out.

Andy’s expression shuttered. She looked down at her book.

“Too much peace and quiet without me?” he managed. He aimed for soft, and not sharp, and hoped like hell he succeeded. He was too rough and jagged for this kind woman. She didn’t deserve his bullshit.

“Not enough peace and quiet,” she said like nothing had happened. “I can’t trick anyone else into walking Marlow for me. He’s taken to whining about it.”

The dog sat up straighter at hearing his name.

“Really? Two whole months and nobody’s replaced me as his favourite?”

She shrugged and reached out to rub behind his ears. “No other contenders.”

“Well they’re missing out,” Jason said. He rubbed Marlow’s flank.

They petted opposite sides of the dog, not making eye contact. Marlow, who had never hesitated to love anyone in his life, was perfectly happy to receive their affections.

Next>>

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #red hood x oc #my fanfic #for the hell of it #dc #fluff #yearning #your honor they're in love #and useless idiots

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