#even the bad memory part!!! even the feeling that I am following a script!!!

[rosy-eyedsweetpea]

Just played “In Stars and Time” and, well, I hadn’t sobbed like this in years! Only OMORI got me sobbing like this four years ago, and now, it’s ISAT’s time to shine in my hyperfixation list.

I won’t stop thinking about this game for years to come. This game will influence everything I do, the way I think, the way I act, even my morals; I can already see it because it has happened before!

Siffrin is just like me, to a concerning degree (if you take out the fantasy elements.) Act 5 made me sob in a way not even being at the hospital again can. I woke up my Mom with my sobbing, for stars’ sake!

Anyways, please, play it or watch a gameplay about it!!! It’s great!!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You lay under the covers, hiding. From the world, from the man on the other side of those walls, from yourself. You just want this to be over with. You want to go home and be alone.

You roll over and sink down beneath the flannel and heavy quilt. They smell like laundry detergent. Not a bad smell, just strong. You’re not crying, you won’t let yourself get that far again. You just can’t stop thinking.

Mr. Rogers face imprints in your mind. You just see his face every time you blink. You feel his grip on your, moving you, using you. You whimper as a flash of his office replaces the dim bedroom around you.

You sit up, ready to scream. GO AWAY!

As scalding as the memories you tried so hard to forget is the embarrassment of your outburst. You though you and Bucky were coming to an accord. That you were getting along but he just had to keep pushing and pushing, needling at the sore spot until you came unraveled. You can only blame him so much. You’re responsible for your own behaviour.

You hear the stairs creak and you hug the blankets as you listen. His footfalls come down the hallways and you see his shadow beneath the door. He stops there and you brace yourself for his knock. It doesn’t come. He continues down the hall and clears his throat loudly.

Hinges softly whine and his voice startles you, “hey, yeah it’s me. You get home okay?”

The door shuts out his next words as it clicks sharply. You can hear his muffled tones but you can’t make out the words. He must be on the phone with someone. You think you know who.

You sit up and drag yourself over to the window. You look out at the lazily drifts of snows. It’s slowed but what’s fallen is deep and treacherous. It’s like a scene out of a fantasy show.

You huff and back away from the window. You’re not getting anywhere. You cross your arms and plod around the room, restless as your stomach swims with your dinner and the craft beer. You’ve never been one for alcohol.

You won't sleep like this but you don't know how to go out and face him. Every time you think you've found peace, it crumbles into another petty argument. You don't think you've ever fought so vehemently with anyone. No one's ever pushed your buttons so easily.

His low tones continue to roll through the air as you walk in circles, lost in anxiety. You just have to wait out this storm. After the last blow up, you doubt he'll want to hold you to your promise. He has the script, he can figure it out.

His door opens again. He's silent as you hear his advance outside the room. He stops again, this time he knocks. You stop in place and hesitate.

"Hey, if you're awake..." he says.

You march to the door and open it an inch, peeking out at him, "a-awake."

"Right, uh," he seems almost surprised by your abrupt response, "I just wanted to apologize. Again. I know I keep doing this but I swear I'm trying not to."

"Mm," you purse your lips and nod, "y-yeah..."

"So we can just focus on the podcast. I still wanted to show you the studio... if you're not too tired."

You stare at him. It would be a good distraction, even with him. You can't just hide away. This is his house.

"S-sounds good," you let the door fall open.

His throat bobs and he exhales, "great."

He turns, beckoning you with jab of his finger ahead. You follow him. He's being nice at least. As nice as you can hope for.

He leads you down the stairs and stops in the kitcheb to grab a flashlight from a drawer. The house is getting darker by the minute. He points you to a door across from kitchen.

He opens it and holds it open, waiting for you to descend first. You take the steps on at a time, your hand firmly on the railing. You turn the corner and come to even ground, looking around at the spacious basement as he flashes the beam around, guiding your gaze.

The walls are cover in black-grey sound proofing and a desk is set up with a monitor and microphone, another table with various equipment atop it just on the other side. There's a clear booth build around the desk, likely to keep the sound concentrated in one area. He steps down behind you and you sidle out of his way.

"I've done some sound tests. I think it works pretty good but it's hard with just one person," he explains, "wouldn't mind having a second set of ears..."

He shoves a hand in his pocket as he paces, his other hand moving with his words.

"R-really? Even a-after... earl-earlier?" You ask meekly.

"It's been a stressful day. We can just let it go," he shrugs. "We were getting along, weren't we?"

"Y-yeah," you agree.

"So let's go back to that," he says, "forget everything else. In the morning, the plows will clear all the mess away and I'll take you home but tonight you're going to have to put up with me."

"G-guess I can t-try," you utter as you bring your hands up and rub them together.

"Cold?" He wonders.

You nod. Down here, you can see your breath. He backs up, "let's go. Powers gonna stay out for a while. You're welcome to sleep by the fire for the night. This place is frigid."

"Um, m-maybe," you step past him as he points you upstairs. He trails you, the light glaring around your figure and casting a shadow ahead of you.

"Well, you can at least finish your beer," he insists, "I'll crack a second and see if it doesn't mellow me out."

You nod as you get to the top and move out of his way, "th-thanks."

"Well, you know, I do listen. You were right... about my manners. I'm working on it... trying not to be stubborn old man.”

[reunionatdawn]

My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 2: Dimitri/Byleth)

Despite the popularity of some of Dimitri's M/M ships, he seemed to be a typical heterosexual man to me. However, his straightness was actually part of what made his character so interesting, ironically. He spent his youth absorbed in masculine activities like hunting, training, and practicing with the sword.

He was willing to TRY and take Sylvain's advice to pick up girls. But he was very inexperienced with women. Chivalry definitely promotes homoromantic social bonding among men. And perhaps because of that very male-dominated culture he grew up in, he deeply yearned for a relationship with a woman.

The tagline for the game was, "Sweet memories twisted by time's cruel hand". Dimitri's feelings for his stepsister may have been only puppy love, but it was his first time emotionally connecting with a girl. It was one of his sweetest memories. That was why Edelgard's betrayal hurt him so deeply. The emotional core of AM is Byleth taking the spot in Dimitri's heart that Edelgard once held.

The developers did not want to write an entirely different script just to accommodate male Byleth. So, they just took out the Goddess Tower scene, S-Support, and paired ending. The loss of which are a huge detriment to the integrity of the story. Dimileth is just as "canon" as its counterpart Edeleth. I don't even think AM's story or Dimitri's redemption make sense unless there was a romantic connection between those two. Dimitri's Goddess Tower event even foreshadows that specific scene, proving that the moment Byleth reached out her hand was written with romantic undertones.

Byleth being female is an integral part of the story of AM. If Byleth represented the divine masculine in CF, then it follows that she represented the divine feminine in AM. She was a vessel for the soul of the goddess, but more importantly she was a human who could directly intervene in the world and support people with her own flesh and blood.

Dimileth is often criticized for being a simple "fixing the bad boy" straight girl fantasy. But it's less cliche than people give it credit for. Byleth and Dimitri are an interesting blend of masculine and feminine qualities. Byleth is a silent protagonist, but I could tell that Dimitri enjoyed her dry sarcastic sense of humor. She was not a typical healer or pegasus knight like most FE love interests, but a deadly mercenary. She was meant to be similar to Glenn, which is why Felix sees her as his rival.

She serves the role of being Dimitri's sword and shield and stood at his side and protected him during the final battle, filling the knightly role Glenn would have if he had survived (and the role Felix serves in Hopes). She was the Seiros to his Wilhelm. Dimitri is one of the very few male characters that Byleth will give her mother's ring to when she proposes. Yes, it is a woman's ring that Dimitri wears. In fact, Dimitri's whole character arc is about rediscovering and embracing the softer feminine qualities he had as a young boy.

The Professor taught Dimitri how to live. In AG, Dimitri told Shez that from the moment he was born, he never felt like his life belonged to himself. He overworked himself because it was the only way he knew how to live. After Duscur he lost everyone, including his best friend, and his life belonged to their ghosts. The only time he could imagine being happy was upon his death, having devoted his life to forming a peaceful kingdom full of joyful citizens. He yearned for someone to stand by his side and give him a reason to live for himself.

I've seen many people online criticize Dimileth because they say Dimitri already had plenty of people that he was close to in his life and his non-Byleth relationships should have played the biggest role in his redemption. But I disagree. The story made it quite clear that Dimitri's support system was totally inadequate for his emotional needs and could not have pulled him from the abyss.

He was not actually all that close to his childhood friends, even before the Tragedy of Duscur, and he did not confide in them about what he was feeling. He said Rodrigue was the only person outside the castle he was close to. Rodrigue obviously cared for him, but he had not seen Dimitri in two years prior to the academy. Dimitri and Dedue shared a very powerful bond. Losing Dedue was the cause of Dimitri’s initial descent into savagery. But Dedue still insisted on being his vassal instead of his friend and equal.

Felix was obligated to fill the role due to his bloodline, but he did not WANT to be the person Dimitri unburdened his heart to. He was constantly irritable and losing his patience in Azure Gleam. Glenn was one of the ghosts who shadowed Dimitri's every move. And Felix said that since Glenn's death, "his memory has followed me around like a shadow." He hated acting as his brother's replacement. In their AG A-Support, it seemed like he was pretending to like the idea of being the right-hand man because of how dependent Dimitri was on him. We see a direct parallel of that scene in AM where Dimitri is hallucinating in the chapel. While Felix certainly felt compassion for him, he was very eager to foist the role of confidant onto Byleth.

Without anyone to lean on, Dimitri acts pretty monstrous. For five years, he tortured and killed people brutally, as if they were not even human. He threatened to kill Randolph's friends and remove his eyeballs before killing him and we can probably assume that he actually did that sort of thing to his other victims. I related so well with Felix because I felt the exact same mix of disgust and pity towards him.

I didn't ship Dimileth because I self-inserted onto Byleth and I wanted to marry him. I just wanted Byleth to accept him. And I don't find it difficult to believe that she would. Because before she was the stand-in for the goddess, she was the Ashen Demon who cut people down with no emotion. She only began to smile when she started teaching his class. He offered his shoulder to lean on when she lost Jeralt, something the other two house leaders didn't do.

The main ideological conflict between Edelgard and Dimitri was how much they are willing to compromise and accept the unacceptable. Dimitri seemed to understand that Edelgard had legitimate issues with the Church of Seiros as well as the existing world order. But he thought that total destruction of that system would require too much sacrifice. It was an interesting moral quandary.

And honestly, there was no easy answer. In an ideal world, there would be no false religion and no such thing as nobility, period. Even most of the nobles in the cast would have been happier to just be regular people. AM certainly doesn't end in a utopia or anything (although it's less status quo than AG). It was about the characters compromising and making concessions with an inherently unjust system because perhaps taking innocent human life is wrong even if it's for a just cause.

The Crest of Blaiddyd is associated with Strength. The Strength Tarot card is the Major Arcana of inner strength. It represents mastering raw emotions in order to bring calm to yourself or a situation. Dimitri was born on the winter solstice making him a Sagittarius, which is a masculine fire sign symbolized by a centaur. The horse portion of the Sagittarius symbol is unruly, relentless, beastly, and strong. The human portion is wisdom-seeking and rational. Dimitri's character arc was about overcoming his anger and hatred and becoming the wise "Savior King" who could reach out his hand to his mortal enemy.

Byleth & Dimitri The marriage of the newly appointed Archbishop, Byleth, and Dimitri, who officially ascended to the throne of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, further delighted the people amidst the celebrations of the end of the war. Continuously seeking a better future for Fódlan, they pursued their ideals, gradually reforming the traditional political systems and the structure of the Church. They upheld their roles as leaders of the Church and the state, engaging in intense debates at times. However, when they went on long rides or hunting trips alone together, they wore not the faces of the Archbishop and the King, but those of an ordinary, loving couple.

JRPGs are known for "killing god". AM ends not with you destroying the church but becoming its leader. The people of Fódlan paid lip service to the goddess, but they actually revered Nemesis and the 10 Elites. So much so that Rhea had no choice but to refer to them as heroes and Crests as gifts from the goddess. Fódlan is a patriarchal land. Faerghus especially so.

With Fódlan unified under Faerghus, Byleth acts as the divine feminine force who will change that society from the inside out, just as she did her husband. Is rulership by a benevolent monarch and a matriarchal pope a good enough ending? Well, that's for the player to decide. But I found it to be the best ending, both for Fódlan and for Dimitri and Byleth themselves.

[crguang]

I am genuinely curious how Kafka, Himeko, Black Swan, and Yukong react if they found a siren/elf reader. Btw thank you for responding to my previous ask, I really didn't expect that :D Also, can I be 🎹 anon?

ABSOLUTELY YOU CAN! that’s such an interesting concept, let me think…

swan would be kinda obsessed. she finds meaning in things people normally overlook, if she comes across a literal siren she’d go a bit crazy; she needs to know everything (who are you? where do you come from? the sea is a part of the world she wouldn’t know much about and she’s always been a curious soul). her way of getting answers would differ, i think. she usually lurks before making herself known as someone who holds all the answers you’re looking for in her cards, but this time she can’t afford to observe for long. she has no guarantee that she’ll see you again, after all, and she can’t miss this opportunity. she presents herself the same way she does everyone else; as someone who’s adept at listening to people’s woes and who simply seeks to make an exchange of memories. you’re not sure you trust this suave, elusive being at first but she doesn’t need you to. conversation is only a pretext, she’s already swimming in your memories and recording as much as she can if only to soothe her own burning curiosity. i don’t know if the remembrance has any need for mythical creatures’ memories but swan could just not let this once in a lifetime experience pass her by.

hime would be fascinated! she’s an adventurer at heart and not a lot of things can scare her. an elf? right in front of her?? she has to meet you. there’s not a lot recorded about your kind in the express’ data bank. another curious soul who won’t shy away from approaching you first; she’s so polite too! she’s good with words and at making the people around her feel at ease; the next thing you know, you’re telling her stories of your kin and she’s listening intently to every word out of your mouth. her attention is a precious thing, it makes you feel like you’re the most special being in the cosmos. himeko doesn’t stay in one place for too long, so it would be a once in a lifetime thing for her too, she would never miss that opportunity

kafka… i’m giggling at the thought of her getting enthralled by a siren’s song so let’s go with that. i mean, what’s the difference between that and her spirit whisper? getting a taste of her own medicine would annoy her really bad, but then she sees you and she’s like “…not the worst thing that’s happened to me.” the loss of control brings a mix of emotions; she’s not sure she likes it but at the same time, she’s deeply intrigued. not anyone can mess with her mind and get her to do their bidding, she’d be very on guard but wouldn’t run away. quite the opposite, she easily finds beauty in your appearance and would stay of her own volition even after getting her mind back. kafka’s very cautious, if it’s not scripted and she catches sight of you on a random wednesday, she’d keep her distance. she watches from afar and if you want to interact with her, you’ll have to approach her first. keeps the encounter to herself like it’s her own little secret and definitely visits once in a while in hopes of seeing you again

yukong my babyyy, i think she’d easily find some similarities between elves and foxians so she’d be very considerate of your boundaries. sensitive ears? hers too! i always think elves are kinda quiet, in the sense that they usually keep to themselves and don’t mingle with others, so you’d be a little hesitant to reveal anything to her. what’s nice about yukong is that she values peace of mind over most things. sit with her in open air, breathe in the scent of nature while the wind blows in your hair and it’s all she needs. you don’t need to tell her a thing, though if you do she gives you her full attention and is always respectful in her follow-up questions. she’s seen a lot of things, and sometimes forget that there will always be something that can surprise her. new experiences are a reprieve from her daily routine, so she’d keep that encounter very close to her heart <3

[howam-i-theparent]

Logan headcanons!

second one to “form���, as curiosity tho, not logic (You know how babies try to eat everything trying to figure out what it is? That was Logan)

latter was renamed to “Brain” when Thomas started to do more long term learning/memory stuff

Has a library of all of Thomas’s memories in the mindscape, and each night while Thomas is dreaming, organizes it into “long term”, “short term” and “discard”, for any memories that are unnecessary.

Their library is open to all of the sides, Patton uses it to look through old memories (stored like scrap books/photo albums) for nostalgia. Roman + Remus use it to pick out bits and pieces for dream Ideas. Virgil sometimes looks through the most recent memories (or sometimes really old ones), and causes Thomas to get less sleep, Logan tries to calm Virgil down with more realistic views on the events, or tries to navigate Virgil to less important mistakes to fret over so any major things can be ignored for the time being.

Agender/Aromantic/Asexual/Autistic (me? Projecting? Never), and does not understand why they would ever need to follow any of the “normal” ways of doing things, they are a side after all, not an actual human, but will try to be a near perfect reflection of Thomas, in the mentality of “I am a part of Thomas, so I need to be as close to Thomas as possible”

They/Them pronouns (but allows Roman and Remus to come up with some neopronouns to use for them (they are allowed to veto anything they don’t like tho))

Knows how to walk in heels that would make Barbie herself trip (no one knows how they are able to do this (maybe not even themself))

Their main goal in life is “Making Thomas as efficient as possible without causing burnout” for this reason, they try to maintain healthy relationships with all of the other sides, so things can run as smoothly as possible.

With Patton, they usually bake together, but not cooking. (Baking is an exact form, cooking is more “try and see what happens”, therefore baking is like chemistry, something Logan can understand)

With Roman, they usually work on scripts together, but if no work is needed to be worked on, they both share Mythology stories (Roman likes the story parts, Logan I’d fascinated with how they used those myths to explain natural phenomena)

With Virgil, they are quite content with just sitting in the same room and vibing (Logan usually does research/read, and Virgil is usually napping w/ headphones in, or scrolling through memes)

With Janus, they will have “debates” about real-world going on’s, and possibilities of how Thomas would need to respond. (They usually just bounce off of each-other with similar ideas, there is not much disagreement most times)

With Remus, Remus is very willing test subject for more of Logan’s more “dark” curiosity’s, mostly human experiments and explosions (Remus would try to make real to life simulations in the imagination, in cording to Logan’s instructions)

Logan actually recognizes that empathy is needed to make a solid and logical argument, but is trying to help Thomas understand that he should not allow every single decision to be overwhelmed with emotion.

Logan struggles with regulation of emotions themself, where most may think that they do not care about something, they actually care very much, and has trouble expressing that. But also, sometimes they will have an outburst of emotions, which leave the others confused because “why was such a small thing, such a big deal?” (Logan feels immensely bad afterwards and tried to avoid the problem/topic)

The other sides do recognize that Logan feels very passionate about some things, and try not to interfere (Crofters for one, but will also allow them to talk about their special interests (stars/space) when Logan finally does get around to talking about it)

Doesn’t watch a lot of TV (not because “it rots your brain”, they just find that most action/romance/emotion driven plot to be frustrating) but they will watch documentaries for hours, and forget other things around them if the documentary is not interrupted in some way. (The others were very concerned about them when they watched the entirety of Planet Earth in one sitting)

They can feel all of the injuries that Thomas gets, to the full extent, but is not affected by “imaginary” injuries (The Remus episode, do I need to say more?)

Sometimes just needs to be alone for a bit, just being in their room, reading, doing research, working, watching documentaries, sleeping ect.

Tries to follow the “perfect” sleep schedule, as an example for Thomas, but gets easily wrapped up in work or a book, and that causes them to stay up latter than they intended.

Their favorite comfort food is of course crofters, but also enjoys goldfish, orange popsicles, and cantaloupe.

Their unicorn onesie was a gift from Patton that slowly turned into a comfort object, they sleep in it every night when it’s not too hot (will turn up the air conditioning and fans in their room, just to be able to sleep in it), and will get frustrated when they can’t wear it to bed (curse the Florida weather)

When the sides started making small changes to their appearances, they got a bit taller, and their hair got darker, as well as their eyes turning a dark blue color. (They use contact lenses while filming, and the perspective+ lighting causes the other changes to not be that noticeable)

Also has a light blanket at the foot of their bed that is navy blue with different constellations with their names on it.

That’s all for now, may or may not do more latter

[nobodysdaydreams]

Doug Eiffel is hilarious and deserves his own series of radio shows

(Or my reaction to Wolf359's three untitled mini episodes!)

Welcome back dear readers! I wish I could react to more full length episodes, but life in terms of health and work load has not been kind to me (yep. I'm sick again). Fortunately, I was informed that these mini episodes can be listened to at any time and they are fairly short, so I'm gonna give it a shot! (If I was misinformed and am about to have a ton of plot spoiled for me, I apologize in advance!)

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom

Mini Episode: Adventure of a Lifetime

Ohhhh... a field trip into the mysterious rooms!

...this might not work out for you Doug, but I hope you find something useful.

Huh. Empty rooms. ...why do I get the feeling they aren't all empty?

Different shade of grey paint? Doug have you never played a video game? I mean, I haven't either, but even I know what that means.

Great, now he's locked in.

"I'm hungry, I didn't have breakfast, It's been five hours." WHY AM I DOUG 😂

Doug yeah the grey spot sounds pretty bad.

"Did you try pushing?" Hilbert is so done with him.

19 minutes? I'm not sure if that's funny because Doug is dramatic, or spooking because these rooms actually mess with time perception.

"You never mention this to anyone and I won't ask you what you're doing on this part of the station" Doug you really oughta be asking though.

Oh. That was it? Huh. Very short. I wonder what the next one has in store...

Mini Episode: Step One

Ah! More Doug! Why IS he going outside?

Hey, Doug. Do not speak badly about the commander. Trust me, the day will come when you realize Minkowski is the best commander you could ever have.

He stole her diary? Oh Doug...

"If this tape shows up in my murder trial, you'll know why I made this recording"

Imagine if Cutter tried to use this audio to frame Minkowski for Doug's death (he would. He'd drop it off at her husband's office like "sorry about your wife becoming a murderer. Apparently a disgruntled employee took her diary and she snapped").

Poor Doug. Scrambling to solve a mess he created in a very unsafe way because he can't ask for help or else he'll get caught? Why is he so dang relatable. Someone get this man to a doctor. He needs Adderall. And his daughter back.

"I have the perfect plan" oh dear. Doug, those words never go well for me either.

"Doug was great, I need to lighten up a lot" 😂

"She somehow saw through my forgery" oh poor Doug.

Are these episodes just Doug getting himself into situations? Because that's hilarious and wonderful.

Mini Episode: Space Rage

"Badass McAwesome" Is that Doug doing a southern accent? I love his radio shows.

Is he talking about Minkowski? Is he broadcasting that through the ship?

"Our God given American right to free speech and funny jokes!" Amen Doug 🫡

Oh my gosh he's talking to himself 😂.

"I'm stuck in this crappy job searching for alien life for 14 hours a day" "we've all certainly been there" I can't, please 😂😂😂

"There's this script you're supposed to broadcast" "sound like command trying to keep you down"

"I've been reciting every Simpson's treehouse of horror episode from memory" / "That's the way Abe Lincoln would have wanted it."

I love this. I love patriot cowboy Doug. 🤠 You can't be taking his freedoms!

"Fighting the good fight" aksjkfjsdlf;kj

Oh who is the sponsor this time? Oh Dr. Hilbert's seaweed coffee. "It's the only thing we have. It's the only thing we have."

"You're live. Let freedom ring!" Doug is the best honestly.

Oh dear.

"Okay you're taking me alive. That's all the time we have for today folks!"

Doug is iconic.

These were great. Short, but great. Maybe I'll try to listen to the Mission Mishap ones a few at a time so that I can still give you reactions, even if I don't have the time or health to give you the full length reactions you deserve dear readers. But don't worry. As soon as I have time, I will react to the rest of the series. Thanks for reading!

[nimbusalba]

Well, that was amazing. Best meta ever. This makes so much sense. And it explains some inconsistencies, e.g. Crowley smiling at the memory of the Reign of Terror, neither of them remembering who was responsible for it or Crowley saying that he owes that particular lunch to Aziraphale. Some of the things I already suspected; the key part being the Bastille is pretty evident. That scene speaks volumes just from the beginning, thanks to Aziraphale being incapable of holding his horses when he first lay eyes on Crowley. He couldn’t wait until the rescuing part of lunching was over and fell short of saying “scrumptious” out loud as he was checking Crowley out.

Now I can't stop seeing all these hidden meanings. It is so obvious once you notice it that I feel bad for not having realized it before. This puts the whole relationship in another perspective and it’s going to be so much fun to rewatch. 

I guess you already know, but in the script book there’s an implication of Crowley spending the night at the bookshop. At the end of 1.01 Crowley and Aziraphale are at the bookshop drinking whiskey and despairing about the antichrist having named the dog (Dog). This is afternoon-evening because Adam had to go back home (now with Dog) to celebrate his birthday by tea time and Crowley senses he has named the dog during this scene. In the beginning of 1.02 there is an aerial view of London on a sunny morning. Gabriel and Sandalphon arrive at the bookshop. Aziraphale comes from the back room looking nervous. They all go to the back room to talk-threaten Aziraphale and Sandalphon says “Something smells evil”. We know it’s from Crowley and we suppose that Sandalphon has a great sense of smell and that said smell is from the previous evening, when Crowley and Aziraphale were having whiskey there. But on the script book it says the following:

            GABRIEL

                   Books. Let us discuss my purchase in a private place. Because I am buying, er . . .

            SANDALPHON

                   Pornography?

            GABRIEL (proudly and loudly)

                   Pornography.

            He picks up an (obviously not pornographic) vintage book. Aziraphale sees Crowley through the window, out on the pavement, heading for his car.

            AZIRAPHALE

                   Gabriel. Sandalphon. Please, come into my back room.

So Crowley is fleeing the bookshop the morning after alcohol, when Aziraphale's boss arrives unexpectedly, and Aziraphale doesn’t invite them to the back room until he’s sure it’s empty of demonic entities. I suppose they cut that scene because it would have made the relationship too obvious, as it shows that Crowley had spent the night at Aziraphale’s, which implies lunch. But it makes perfect sense with all that’s been explained in this meta, even confirms it. We can say that it is canonish (can you say it’s canon if it wasn’t on the show nor on the book but on another book? idk) that the night of the Armageddon’t was not their first night together and even that it is implied that Crowley and Aziraphale do the nasty whenever they have the chance. 

Crepes: The 1.01 sex meta thing

Alright, my romantic and horny murder hornet friends...

...come and get your very requested 1.01-scene(s)-that-shows-that-Crowley-and-Aziraphale-are-lovers sex meta thing.

We'll be getting a bit blush-inducing NSFW under the cut so keep that in mind...

As Fraulein Maria suggests: Let's start at the very beginning... a very good place to start... when you read, you begin with: A, B, C...

...when you speak Ineffable Husbands, the show tells us, you begin with: lunch, alcohol, and crepes...

We're going to do this semi-glossary-style, since those have proven popular and it works well for this. There are some very brief mentions of Satan's attacks on Crowley, for those that would like to know of that ahead of time. Other than that, I don't think any other trigger warnings apply.

"Gentlemen, in your role as the audience, could you, perhaps, give us more to work with?" -- William Shakespeare, 1601, meta-ing for the writers and performers of Good Omens, requesting us to dive a little deeper.

Temptation accomplished.

~~~

Secret language. A language spoken by secret agents for the purpose of keeping the full, true meaning of their conversation hidden by those who might be observing them. Comprised of code words and phrases that contain other layers of meaning beneath the more easily understood surface layer. Difficult-- and, at times, impossible-- for those who do not speak the language to understand it without a key that unlocks at least one word of the language, revealing the hidden conversation beneath the surface.

Key. Additional context that reveals hidden meaning in a secret language by providing understanding of other layers of meaning beneath the surface in a conversation between secret agents.

Example: some bleating goats in 2500 B.C. illustrating for Aziraphale via additional information and context the true meaning of Crowley's words in the scene. Most keys in Good Omens are separate scenes; this one is an exception because it's the origins of their secret language in the first place. This is also a partner scene to the "no nightingales" moment in 2.06.

Partner scene(s). In Good Omens, a scene or scenes which act as keys to other scene or scenes, providing information and context necessary to fully understand the initial scene, which is usually one we saw earlier in the story.

Example: The Bullet Catch scenes in The Blitz, Part 2 in S2 adding layers of context and meaning to both Crowley and Aziraphale with the paintball gun and Crowley giving the office workers miraculous escapes from death at Tadfield Manor in S1.

Crowley and Aziraphale. Supernatural secret agents of sorts, introduced to us that way by our narrator, God, who points out their penchant for meeting alongside human secret agents in St. James Park. They speak in a secret language that we'll call in this meta Ineffable Husbands Speak that only they-- and God-- speak fluently... but for which Good Omens has been slowing giving us enough information to learn how to speak as well.

Code words. Often neutral-sounding and very common words--by design-- in order to keep the hidden meanings of the secret language secret from outside observers by making it sound like everyday conversation. As a result, code words have dual layers of meaning: they refer to a literal thing on the surface level but also have a secondary meaning beneath that within the secret language.

Example, in Ineffable Husbands Speak: "dining at The Ritz."

To "dine at The Ritz" (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). Surface, literal level: to eat a meal at the restaurant at The Ritz-Carlton, London. Hidden level: to take steps towards being less secretive about their relationship and to live more of a life that is theirs together.

Code phrase/cypher. A phrase that sounds as if it has a single, understood meaning on the surface but is comprised of code words put together to convey a meaning that is hidden from anyone who might hear the phrase but does not speak the secret language. Impossible to understand unless you either created the language or were given instructions on how to speak it... unless you can come into possession of a key that can unlock it.

If spoken to someone who does not have a key to understanding it, they might possibly be able to recognize that you are speaking in a kind of code... but they will not have the understanding of the double meanings of the keywords, nor the context required, to figure out just what the hell you're talking about.

Example: "The clarinet can make beautiful music."

Good Omens included this scene right near the start of the season in 2.01 in which both Crowley and we the audience have no idea what Agent Fuzuli is *really* saying, even if his sentence makes technical, if not really contextual, sense. We can recognize from his over-the-top obvious spy-speak that he is speaking in code. They did so to highlight the existence of hidden language in the show and how important it is to unlocking more layers of meaning in the story.

Neither we nor Crowley expressly need to decode this particular sentence to understand what's happening in the story of Good Omens because Good Omens is not about the romance of Agent Fuzuli and his new paramour, the Azerbaijani Sector Chief. (Cupid!Crowley really out here matchmaking everyone in sight in S2 lol.) If it were, we would be needing to figure out what this clarinet and its beautiful music are all about. Instead, though, the show is suggesting that hidden language and decoding it is paramount-- but we should focus a bit more on the secret language of our main characters Crowley and Aziraphale instead.

Sexual innuendo/sexual euphemism: A kind of secret language in which something that is not inherently sexual is given a sexual connotation. Relies heavily on suggestive tone and context. Often full of in-jokes. Often done to soften talk of sex-- and, just as often, paradoxically, tends to make things actually a bit sexier. Relies on a sense of humor and so increases a sense of playfulness and fun between partners. Is flirting by way of creating a secret language out of innuendo.

Example: To "mend his shirt" in the (code-named) Mrs. Sandwich's sexually euphemistic speak, as brought on by Aziraphale's 19th century-era magic during The Ball, is to give a blowj-- well, actually, here: Crowley will define the innuendo for us through the use of partner scenes...

"Fine *stable* of ladies"... the horse statue where Crowley keeps his glasses in the bookshop... mending Aziraphale's shirt in a way evocative of mending Aziraphale's shirt...

Mrs. Sandwich. A "seamstress." Not her real name. A walking, talking intersection of secret language, innuendo and sex in Good Omens, whose name and the content of her scenes help us confirm we're on the right track in decoding Ineffable Husbands Speak.

Sandwiches. Popular, common food that can be eaten anytime during the day but are most commonly associated with lunch.

Lunch. Midday meal. What Aziraphale offers to buy Crowley in thanks for Crowley rescuing him from The Bastille in the Paris, 1793 scene.

Paris, 1793/The Bastille. Partner scene that acts as the key to the 1.01 scene-- and its subsequent scenes-- that shows the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship through their use of secret language.

Let's Have Lunch. The 1.01 scene that, when unlocked using its partner scene of 1.03's Paris, 1793 scene, reveals that Crowley and Aziraphale are lovers. How so? Read on. :)

Armageddon: Round One. The end of the world and what Crowley and Aziraphale both separately learn is in motion in 2008 in 1.01. They meet the following day to discuss it and the show tells us then, at the start of the story, exactly one bullet point on their shared timeline-- the very first thing we ever learn about the entire 6,004 years that they have been living on Earth together since the last time we saw them together in Eden. Something important enough that it received its own partner scene in the 1.03 Cold Open basically entirely to help decode this scene in 1.01-- and re-contextualize the 2008 minisode (and a lot more) as a result.

What is this single, very important bullet point?

A lunch they had together in Paris in 1793.

As Crowley & Aziraphale head through the park and argue over whether or not to stop Armageddon, they eventually reach the spot on the side street where Crowley has parked The Bentley. This brings them to not just a conversational impasse but a physical one-- there's nowhere left to walk because they're now at the car and this is when Crowley says:

"Well, let's have lunch, hmm? I still owe you one from..." At this point, we're too busy being charmed by this vintage-y angel and this rock star demon who lunch together on Earth arguing over Armageddon to barely notice the content of this scene and that might be by design. It is sandwiched between two other scenes, both of which understandably get a lot more attention: the "celestial harmonies" conversation on the bench in St. James Park and the kinky lunch at what we'll later learn is The Ritz. ("Lunch" in Ineffable Husbands Speak is not *just* the food kinky lunch, as we'll get into below.)

We also don't yet have the key the first time we watch this scene to decode it because we aren't given that by Good Omens until the 1.03 Cold Open and its Paris, 1793 scene. We can pick up on some vibes in this scene in 1.01 but unless we use the Paris, 1793 scene to fully decode Let's Have Lunch in 1.01, we aren't actually understanding what they are saying and, as Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt would say, we must know what they are saying... (since we're all not Nazi Zombies, we'll be able to actually figure it out...) :)

...but we do now have the 1.03 Paris, 1793 scene so now, let's check out the moment this scene becomes, um, important-- and that is Aziraphale's response to Crowley's invitation to lunch:

Oh, what's this now...? Crowley owes you lunch from *when,* Aziraphale? From "Paris, 1793", did you say...?!

You mean from the time that you dragged Crowley to The Bastille to save you from a situation you put yourself in and could get yourself out of the entire time because you have a Neil Gaiman-Ask-confirmed, canonical thing for him rescuing you (and because, as a fun S2 partner scene suggests, rescuing you always does make him so happy) and you were so very grateful for the rescue that you offered *to buy him lunch*?! A lunch that this scene in 2008 will confirm you went and had together? A lunch that we had *an entire, separate scene about* in the middle of the 1.03 Cold Open-- alongside The Arrangement and the 1862 breakup and 1941 and the 1967 holy water scene, in terms of importance to understanding this relationship from the show's perspective? THAT LUNCH?! lol

Paris, 1793. The ONE TIME IN THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF THIS RELATIONSHIP lol that it can be safely said that Crowley absolutely, 150%, *most definitely does not owe Aziraphale lunch*. The time we had a whole extra scene over, just to confirm how much Crowley does not owe Aziraphale lunch from this one time in Paris in 1793...

Well, well, well... seems we have ourselves a key. :)

Lunch. Code word in Ineffable Husbands Speak. A code word that, when unlocked, helps to unlock additional language, as we will see.

If Aziraphale's reply to Crowley's lunch invitation is to say the one time in history from which we know Crowley doesn't owe Aziraphale lunch, then Aziraphale's reply is really in response to the hidden, second layer of meaning beneath the lunch invitation, which means that Crowley isn't just asking Aziraphale if he wants to go grab the midday meal together and Aziraphale is more than aware of that. As we will see from the dialogue below, this suggestion that they have lunch on the surface level is also, on the hidden language level, a suggestion that they have sex.

So, ok, let's try this 1.01 scene again, now that we've started to factor in the information we have from its 'Paris, 1793' partner scene from 1.03...

What Aziraphale Is *Not* Saying When He Replies "Paris, 1793" to Crowley's Lunch Invitation in 2008: That he would like to time travel to The French Revolution for lunch; that he would like to go to Paris in the present for lunch; that he wants to go to their favorite creperie; that he wants to go get himself locked up in a maximum security prison so Crowley can come rescue him...

What Aziraphale *Is* Saying When He Replies "Paris, 1793" to Crowley's Lunch Invitation in 2008: That he would like to go to lunch and also that he would like to go to *lunch*-- which is to say that he's in agreement that sex sounds perfect-- and that what he "wants for lunch" is a repeat of how they made love in Paris in 1793.

Let's repeat that because mmhmm lol...

Sitting there in the middle of the second half of Crowley and Aziraphale's second scene in person together, in the middle of the first episode of the show, is Aziraphale recounting sex he and Crowley had over 200 years prior to when this scene is taking place in response to Crowley's suggestion that they shake off the Armageddon blues by sexy lunching their way to spending the night in Aziraphale's bed.

This conversation on the surface is about going to lunch and they are very funny with the literal part of their secret language, as they will actually go to lunch, as we know-- and during that lunch, Crowley will make a joke about the dual layers of meaning of their language when defining the next word in their language for us, which we will get to in a moment. For now, though, let's just go back to the "let's have lunch" scene here and look at the rest of it now that we can understand it on both levels of meaning...

"Well, let's have lunch, hmm? I still owe you one from..." Crowley does not actually owe Aziraphale lunch; this is a way to throw the decisions to him, keeping it sounding like they are just talking about eating lunch-the-midday-meal on the surface when we now know that it's more than that. He trails off and both verbally and non-verbally indicates a whole "you tell me" attitude, having offered up the idea and now giving the choice to Aziraphale. (It's not a magical influence "you tell me" like he did with Sitis, just a verbal ellipsis/non-verbal head shake that hands the conversation over to Aziraphale.) As a result of this and their responses in the rest of the scene, this becomes:

"Well, let's have lunch, hmm? I still owe you one from..." Well, let's have sex, hmm? Let's do our kinky lunch thing. Tell me what you want for later and we'll do that. Whatever you want. Armageddon already fucked up our lunchy dinner that we were supposed to sneak out to have at the fascinating little sushi restaurant where they know you last night-- it can go fuck itself for the afternoon. We're both depressed and tired. Eleven years left. We're almost out of time. I just want to be close to you. Let's have lunch.

"Paris. 1793." I could eat. I never can resist you, you know that. Remember Paris? After The Bastille? I'd like that.

Does Crowley remember The Bastille?

Oh, Crowley remembers The Bastille...

Someone had a very nice time in Paris in 1793 if that little smile and that look and the little "yessss" are any indication. Crowley is down with revisiting The French Revolution and after this, they're both just heading to The Bentley as they continue talking because lunch is on. But why are we even talking about Paris 1793 when we have all seen this episode and know they aren't about to instantly drive back to the bookshop and get their Bastille on?

Anticipatory kink. When partners arrange to have sex in the short term but not immediately and spend the interim time discussing the sex they plan to have as a way of arousing one another over anticipation of the future lovemaking. A form of psychological edging/delayed pleasure. Fancy way of saying 'teasing the fuck out of each other' lol.

The first part of lunch for Crowley and Aziraphale is deciding what's for lunch-- before they go to have lunch-as-in-some-food-- even if part of lunching is that they aren't going to have sex for hours still to come. In addition to the anticipatory element, it's just fun to talk to your partner about sex and the way they do so also has them euphemistically refer back to past times they made love as a way of turning each other on with the memories of those past encounters-- so, doubly fun.

"Yessss. The Reign of Terror. Was that one of ours or one of yours?" Crowley's response to "Paris, 1793." He says 'The Reign of Terror' a little sarcastically, implying that while that is the historical name for the era, he and Aziraphale were actually pretty happy during it, which goes along with what we saw in The Bastille scene. On the surface, though, Crowley and Aziraphale are still attempting to make it sound like they're talking about The Reign of Terror so, technically, "was that one of ours or one of yours?" is a question that is supposed to be about who (Heaven? Hell?) was responsible for The French Revolution but oh, that Paris, 1793 scene is a good partner scene as we know the answer to this question, too...

The French Revolution. Not Crowley's demonic work. The humans thought it up themselves. Established in the Paris, 1793 scene, to help us better understand this bit of the Let's Have Lunch scene.

"Was that one of ours or one of yours?" Look at the wording of that. By definition, since Crowley is speaking to Aziraphale, the "ours" has to include Aziraphale. It's a subtle but present indicator that this isn't entirely smooth language on the surface here because it's accounting for two layers of meaning at once. If it is just about who is responsible for The French Revolution, the sentence doesn't actually make sense but that's because it's designed to sound like something of a casual reply to the surface question about The French Revolution but this conversation is now happening more on the second, hidden level and there, it really means:

We had all the sex in Paris in 1793, angel. Talk to me more about what's got you all hot for The Bastille. I remember all of it but want to know what's lighting you up here so to keep us talking about it, I'll start throwing out some options from Paris under the guise of pretending I'm talking about who is responsible for The French Revolution. Was that one of ours or one of yours? Meaning: do you want to fuck each other later or am I fucking you? By tossing these both out as options I'm obviously also saying that, if you're up for it, I'm in the mood for "ours". I currently have both the need to be inside you *and* the need to get done into next Thursday right now...

"Can't recall." Aziraphale's response to "one of ours or one of yours?" A blatant lie on every level lol. He remembers that the humans were responsible for The French Revolution and, based on how quickly he reached for it when asked what he wanted for lunch on an especially harrowing day, Aziraphale remembers every damn minute of the two of them in bed in Paris in 1793. He knows as much as Crowley what they got up to. "Can't recall" is a reply designed to sound like he can't remember who is responsible for The French Revolution on the surface level but answers Crowley's question on the hidden language level by using "can't recall" to signal that he doesn't have a preference. It's whatever you would like is fine with me. He's definitely noted the "ours" request, though, as we'll see later on.

But Aziraphale also still needs to answer Crowley's underlying question of what's he's wanting that's got him all hot and he keeps the euphemistic, hidden sex chat going by telling Crowley what he's picturing from Paris exactly that he wants later on:

"We had crepes."

Did Crowley and Aziraphale go to lunch-the-midday-meal in Paris after Crowley rescued Aziraphale from The Bastille and have crepes-the-food for lunch? They absolutely did. Lunch-the-midday-meal (or, really, *any* food/meal that is probably not breakfast, which they seem to had yet to sort out by S2 because of Crowley not staying the night) is part of lunch. But we know that this conversation in this scene in 2008 is not really about lunch-the-meal so crepes is our next bit of Ineffable Husbands vocabulary. We can tell at this point that this is a sexual euphemism. That The Guardian of the Eastern Gate and The Serpent of Eden use types of food as euphemisms for types of sex because of course they do lol...

Does the show get into what, exactly, "crepes" are in Ineffable Husbands Speak? Oh yeah. They do lol. But it's mostly on the other side of kinky lunch so we're going to come back to it...

Off of Aziraphale's crepes declaration, they get into The Bentley and peel off and the next time we see them, we're at...

The Ritz-Carlton, London. One of the finest restaurants in the world; known for their famed afternoon tea and world-class service. The origins of the word 'ritzy.' Where Crowley and Aziraphale have lunch in 2008, for what we will learn in the subsequent scene between them is the first time. We won't know that this restaurant is The Ritz until the S1 finale, when they return there after specifying that it's where they are going. We won't begin to understand fully what it means to them in their language to do so until then. The first hint happens around midway through S1 in the 1967 scene, when it becomes apparent that they are speaking to one another in a coded way-- even while alone, as they are just used to their own language by this point-- and that Aziraphale's "dine at The Ritz" aspiration was something tied to the idea of them taking some more steps towards being more openly and fully together.

In 2008, Crowley and Aziraphale decided to go to The Ritz while in The Bentley after the "let's have lunch" scene, in a scene we aren't shown, likely because the decision to do so would include directly referencing their relationship in a way the show has avoided doing so far but, as the 2.06 kiss showed us, won't be doing forever. (We also are never shown them past a certain point at night-- the show choosing to leave them in 2008 after the "godfathers" conversation in the bookshop and again in 2019 after we last see them holding hands during the ride back to Crowley's flat in London from Tadfield. This seems likely to change in S3, especially because there is almost certainly a The Blitz, Part 3 and we last left them late at night drinking wine alone in the bookshop making eyes at one another.)

Right, so, back to The Ritz in 2008 and the kinky lunch part of lunch...

Foreplay. Activities between partners-- physical, psychological, emotional, or all of the above-- that are designed to stimulate sexual arousal, in order to put the mind and the body in the mood for sex.

Kinky lunch is a form of foreplay, as Aziraphale is into the pleasure of being watched by Crowley as he enjoys the pleasure of his food and Crowley is into watching Aziraphale enjoy himself. This is also where the anticipatory kink starts to make even more sense as if they've already decided a bit of what they're going to get up to in bed later on, then they know what each other is thinking about all afternoon-- but especially during kinky lunch.

First date. There's also something of a romantic element to this, which a partner scene in S2 provided, which is that kinky lunch is essentially repeating what first happened thousands of years earlier in Job's cellar in 2500 B.C.. That night was, more or less, Crowley and Aziraphale's first date. Not all the sex they have is tied to lunching but part of lunching is, essentially, weaving their first date into these little sexy dates they're going on throughout different periods in history. Pretty romantic stuff for these two who also literally cannot say the word 'couple' but are basically married.

Biblical "fruits of knowledge." In Good Omens, what happened in The Garden of Eden is canonically known and it's that our Serpent of Eden Crowley tempted Eve into eating an apple from The Tree of Knowledge, which she then shared with Adam. The two of them then followed up the pleasure of eating with exploration into other sensual pleasures, discovered sex, and Eve-- whose biology really is something-- was basically eight months pregnant about two days later when Aziraphale snuck them out of Eden, jumpstarting humanity. Humans, though, have had ongoing debate over Genesis in The Bible as to what, exactly, the "fruits of knowledge" were that Adam and Eve consumed.

One argument is over what kind of food it was that Eve actually ate. In Good Omens, it is the most commonly thought food-- an apple-- but arguments have been made for everything from grapes to different berries to figs to even wheat. While Crowley does eat and different things than this, most of what we've been shown that he's consumed is humorous because it's almost all things related to speculated foods of the Biblical fruits of knowledge (wine-- grapes/berries; whisky-- wheat; an apple-looking tea in the S1 finale at The Ritz, etc..)

The other argument that is made is whether "ate fruit from The Tree of Knowledge" is actually just a metaphor for having sex. In Good Omens, the answer to this question is the opening of its story and it's not an either/or. It's both, with one leading to the other. Crowley and Aziraphale are more than aware of this and of the parallels with Adam and Eve to their own relationship and, like with everything else, they're very dryly funny about it. The two who are responsible for all sensual and sexual pleasure for all of humanity since the literal beginning of time have kinky lunch and a language full of food euphemisms for sex and flirty innuendo mixing the pleasures of eating with the pleasures of sex ("constitution of an ox!") because they're witty and playful like that.

Scrumptious. How Aziraphale describes his dessert at The Ritz. Means both "delicious" and "attractive/sexy enough to eat." Is basically the foremost adjective that describes human, physical beauty in terms of taste. It's kinky lunch-- a mix of the the sensual pleasures of eating food with sexual desire-- in a word.

Scrummy. Shortened version of 'scrumptious.' How Aziraphale describes the grapes he buys at The Globe Theatre in 1601, which he then spends the scene eating in front of Crowley, who flits around him like the horny little murder hornet he is, trying to flirt his way into Aziraphale's bed. 192 years before The Bastille.

Affirmative consent. Verbalized, informed and positive consent to participate in a sexual act. Needs to be direct and clear-- the more explicit and enthusiastic, the better. Good sexual practice is checking in with your partner before and periodically during to ensure that you're both still on the same page and having a positive experience. True of every relationship-- but especially true if one or more partners has had their autonomy violated in any way in the past, as Crowley has (and as Crowley had again the night before in 2008, when attacked by Satan in The Bentley, which was one of his many motivations for wanting to lunch with Aziraphale the next day.)

A cleverly-worded partner check in need not break the mood but is still equally important to do, even if everything seems to be fine. A sense of safety brings about trust and trust is sexy, after all.

"So, what are you in the mood for now?" Aziraphale's pitch-perfect partner check-in after he finishes dessert at The Ritz. He knows Crowley well enough to know that he's alright so this is flirtier than it might have otherwise been had Crowley not been. Still, it's presenting an opportunity to stop and giving Crowley the same sense of control and choice that he gave Aziraphale at the start of their lunch date. It's all done with a practiced ease and a subtle, sexy confidence that highlights that Aziraphale is very good at this and probably undid Crowley even more than watching Aziraphale eat lunch did.

Alcohol. Fermented fruit, wheat/grains or the like. Consumption of alcohol can lower inhibitions and the ability to be fully in control of yourself. To drink with someone then is to let them experience your most vulnerable self and to trust them to keep you safe and unharmed while you're not in a state of full control. It's intimate. It's sex, in food/beverage euphemistic terms, and we already know that Crowley and Aziraphale have a whole food-related sexual vocabulary... which Crowley jokes about in this scene.

When Aziraphale asks Crowley what he's in the mood for now that they've finished their dessert course, the point of the initial shot of the scene comes into focus-- the way the camera swoops a little over the surface of the table before settling back to show us Crowley and Aziraphale. The swooping shot illuminates what's on the table. It shows us that they've already eaten lunch, as Aziraphale is on the last forkful of his dessert. The key bits, though, are the beverages-- the coffee and the wine glasses.

Aziraphale has a larger, cappuccino-sized mug of some form of coffee drink while Crowley's dessert was a dessert coffee, based on the size and shape of the mug he's drinking it from. This is also where it's fun to point out that Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup has drunk half of what would be less than two shots of coffee, in a normal-for-the-drink-sized cup, and that the coffee is light in color, suggesting that it's cut with cream. But while the coffee and its symbolic freedom tied to S2 is fun to look at, the point here is that Crowley's coffee looks to be a dessert coffee, most of which frequently contain alcohol and, even more prominent in the shot, are two, empty wine glasses-- one in front of each of them-- that each have a little hint of red wine stuck in the spot above the stem in each glass, confirming that they both had at least one glass of a red wine with lunch.

The point is that they had wine with lunch and Crowley's likely been sipping an alcoholic coffee with dessert, and they're literally surrounded by bottles of wine behind them, as they're in a restaurant lol-- they're at The Ritz, which is known for their service and isn't exactly rushing them out. They could sit there for hours drinking more alcohol, should they want to... so, when Aziraphale asks Crowley what he's in the mood for now and Crowley-- who has spent this scene looking like he's considering freezing time and throwing Aziraphale over the table-- picks up the spoon from his likely Irish coffee and uses it to ding his wine glass-- that is empty of the alcohol he already drank out of it--to get the check lololol and says he wants "alcohol-- quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol", well...

Alcohol (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). Literal, surface level: Alcohol. Hidden language level: Sex.

"Alcohol. Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol." "Sex. Quite extraordinary amounts of sex." Enthusiastic, affirmative consent from Crowley over here. He loves kinky lunch and he's glad you asked, Aziraphale, but he's very, very okay at the moment and wants to go to the bookshop now for more alcohol and, later, for quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol.

"An extremely alcoholic breakfast at The Ritz." A complete sentence in Ineffable Husbands Speak in S2 that Muriel doesn't understand but that we can by this point. Muriel not being able to speak Ineffable Husbands is the point of the moment-- it's to highlight that Muriel is missing information because they don't have the information needed to decode what Crowley is saying or to even realize that there is something to be decoded. It's to point out to us that we have this information and that's why we can understand what Crowley is saying. It, along with "no nightingales", is a moment designed to point out the language and how we can't interpret what we're seeing without being able to understand it. The context of the "us time" scene in S2 helps to reinforce that we have this language correct then also makes it an additional partner scene to the 2008 minisode, as it reinforces this interpretation of the language and the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale that suggests.

Why does Muriel need to leave the bookshop in 2.06 if Crowley and Aziraphale are going for breakfast at The Ritz? We know it's because breakfast is the latest step they want to take when it comes to dining at The Ritz and alcohol is also sex so the Inspector Constable needs to leave because Crowley is out to have some lunch for breakfast.

Right, so, after kinky lunch at The Ritz back in 2008, we then catch up to Crowley and Aziraphale as they are walking up Whickber Street towards the bookshop.

Romantic stroll. They seem to like to go for a little walk together as part of lunch, if they can swing it. In 2008, they're caring a little less because they've just dined at The Ritz for the first time and they have 11 years left until the end of the world, so they're taking some moderate more risks. This might not be always typical of lunch but it is in 2008. They did this on their first date in the Land of Uz, sneaking out of the cellar to take a walk under the cover of night after the storm stopped. They also take a little stroll from the park to The Ritz in 2019 at the end of S1. All three of these times are possible exceptions-- it was night in 2500 B.C. on their first date and 2008 and 2019 are examples of not just lunching but dining at The Ritz, in the sense that they are in an era of being a little less guarded, if still cautious enough to maintain a sense of secrecy. There is a practical reason for the walk, though, as well as well as a romantic one, and that's related to:

The Bentley. Parked nowhere near the bookshop. On a side street somewhere, like we see Crowley has been doing ahead of S2 and is doing during S2 (including the night before the season began.) Crowley staying in the bookshop late into the evening is a given since they're lunching and have already planned to have some alcohol after their alcohol. The Bentley cannot be parked for hours in the evening in front of the bookshop without them running the risk of being caught so, even if they are coming back to the bookshop during the daylight of the mid-afternoon, The Bentley is already parked away from the shop because lunching comes with an understanding that Crowley will be staying in the shop well into the night.

This all seems routine for them at this point. As speculated in another post, this is probably how Crowley became friends with Mrs. Sandwich, whose work has her outside a bit in the early morning hours just outside the side door to the bookshop. Either way, the car is away from the bookshop so Crowley can stay most of the night with Aziraphale.

1921. The year in which Aziraphale bought a dozen cases (144 bottles) of Chateauneuf-de-Pape "for special occasions", as he either tells or reminds Crowley on their walk up Whickber Street. Twenty years before The Blitz.

This is an interesting comment for this exact moment here because one of the two pretty large gaps of time in the last few hundred years in their history is 1862-1941, right? We don't know much about what transpired between their whole breakup mess in St. James Park in 1862 and The Blitz. One of the flashbacks that was cut from S2 might have illuminated some of this, as it was the one set during The Gold Rush in America, which means it would have had to have taken place before about 1893. We know about Aziraphale learning to gavotte in The Hundred Guineas Club in Portland Place in the 1880s, we know that Maggie's great-grandmother started The Small Back Room with Aziraphale's help in the 1920s and we know that Crowley bought The Bentley sometime around 1933. In the midst of all of that, though, there's this one reference to 1921 here in the 2008 minisode that is pretty interesting when you consider why Aziraphale might be bringing it up in this moment.

Aziraphale is saying that he made an investment in the idea of them having a future of special occasions to celebrate together-- in whatever way they could manage to do so-- in 1921, which is a year in which, as far as we can tell so far, he might not have had a lot of hope that this would be possible. They do seem relatively incapable of breaking up for very long but it's also evident that they don't really fully start to get beyond 1862 until 1941 from what we've seen so far so it might have been a bit slow to heal. We do know that they were in contact and not just from the deleted America flashback but from the canonical reveal that Aziraphale got his driver's licence in the early 1930s, after Crowley bought The Bentley. But Aziraphale might be trying to say to Crowley that things didn't seem especially hopeful for them in the early 1920s, either, but Aziraphale has always held out hope.

1941. A special occasion, as that is Chateauneuf-de-Pape that they are drinking in The Blitz, Part 2.

2008. Year in which this minisode about lunching is taking place, when Aziraphale says that there "are a few bottles left" of the Chateauneuf-de-Pape he bought 87 years earlier, implying that they've drunk their way through almost 144 bottles worth of *just* "special occasion" wine *alone* in the last just under 90 years.

"For special occasions." Would be a truly insane way to refer to learning that the world was ending so safe to assume that Aziraphale is wanting to bust out the Chateauneuf-de-Pape in 2008 because what we see in 1.01 is the first time they dined at The Ritz. It was maybe not the most ideal way they'd ever wanted to as it was largely reactionary to learning they were almost out of time but they did it so time for the Chateauneuf-de-Pape.

Chateauneuf-de-Pape. Wine with quite the holy history. Translated from French, means "The Pope's New Castle". The Catholic papacy in early 1300s were big fans of the Burgundy wines in the area, spearheaded their popularity, and used the church to help spur the economic growth of the Avignon viticulture in that area. They drank the wine exclusively themselves and the papacy had been relocated to Avignon so, to an extent, Chateauneuf-de-Pape is something of a "holy water", symbolically. Maybe the antithesis of it-- holy water (water blessed through the power of Heaven) can kill Crowley, Chateauneuf-de-Pape (wine made by humans; symbolic of sex and love and a lifetime of special occasions with Aziraphale) is the stuff worth living for.

Wine is alcohol is, therefore, in Ineffable Husbands Speak, sex.

"Not very big on wine in Heaven, are they?" What Crowley says on their walk to the bookshop, in response to Aziraphale's suggestion that they break out the Chateauneuf-de-Pape.

A very funny line made even funnier by this partner scene in S2:

Well, you'd better pop off and get it then, haven't you, Aziraphale? lol

What, exactly, was going on between these two Influencer Brats of Job and their usual angels-- do we even want to ask? Probably not. The way Keziah says "they haven't brought the wine" with that little emphasis makes it feel like it's possible that their usual angels bring some Heaven-blessed wine as a pretense but that 'bringing the wine' is sexually euphemistic. Ennon hitting on Aziraphale adds to that sense by giving us the feeling that Job being God's favorite human means that, prior to the bet, Heaven was sending angels to see to the needs of the family and the elder two siblings have a pair of usual angels who service their, uh, beverage needs. All of which is, objectively-speaking, against what Heaven says it disapproves of (sex, alcohol/drunkenness, etc.), emphasizing the hypocrisy of the fascist state of Heaven.

The Job minisode then serves to reiterate the wine/alcohol = sex throughout the series and makes even funnier the fact that Crowley then drank the rest of the house's existing wine in revenge for these older kids being such brats and Ennon treating Aziraphale like a whore.

What it shows, though, is that maybe the only consumable beverage that Heaven *is* very big on-- if not on drunkenness-- is wine, like many big religions on Earth, right? As a result, Crowley's "not very big on wine in Heaven" line is then emphasized to really be "not very big on sex in Heaven, are they?"

Ok, back to 2008...

"Not very big on wine in Heaven, are they? Or Chateauneuf-de-Papes... Or single-malt scotch... Or frou frou cocktails with little umbrellas..." Crowley's full response to Aziraphale's Chateauneuf-de-Pape discussion on their walk. Translated from the Ineffable Husbands Speak below.

"Not very big on wine in Heaven, are they? Or Chateauneuf-de-Papes..." Not very big on sex in Heaven, are they? Forget music and food and books and our life here with our human things and our special occasions and spending time together, you are going to spend an eternity trapped in a open-floor-plan office building in the clouds with a bunch of prudish religious zealots. Forever and ever and ever... We have, potentially, eleven years until we'll never make love again. You *love* sex and if we don't stop Armageddon somehow, you're never going to come again...

"...Or single malt scotch..." Scotch is whiskey made in Scotland. Talisker, Crowley's favorite whiskey and recurring drink order, is a single malt scotch. So, this is: Not very big on *me*, either. Not exactly like I can just ride the elevator up for a visit... if I even survive Armageddon. You might have noticed Heaven is not tagging everything on their Tumblr #bildaddy. In case it wasn't obvious that this entire time, I've been listing other things you like about life on Earth while under the surface basically screaming "WE WON'T BE ABLE TO BE TOGETHER, ANGEL..."

"...Or frou frou cocktails with little umbrellas..."

Frou frou. American slang for "fancy", sometimes overly so. The American English sister word/answer word to "ritzy". Spoken by Crowley after they've just left The Ritz and as they walk past what will be the American-themed Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death in S2. Comes from America's longest allies--the French-- where it means the rustling sound made by skirts as they move and is onomatopoeia (words derived from the sound they make, rather than rooted in a language.) To reference Scotland, the United States and France within two sentences while bashing Heaven is very Crowley, who doesn't see Heaven as The British Empire or anything lol.

Cocktails. Mixed drinks. What you get when you combine alcohols. Also ties to the scene in S2 with Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets in The Dirty Donkey, which is now a partner scene to this as well. Crowley's "a sherry for you, a whisky for me." It's another example of alcohol as symbolic of sex as Crowley bringing Aziraphale his preferred drink is their attempt at getting Mr. Brown to get the hint that they are a thing and they like now to keep the alcohol just to the two of them.

A cocktail, though, being a mixed drink, can refer in the context of discussion of Heaven and their relationship to the fact that they are an angel and a demon and Heaven is not very big on that particular cocktail.

Frou frou cocktails with little...

Umbrellas. Canopies.

Canopies. The essential setting component of Crowley's Vavoom in S2, as we heard him talking about (while having a drink) with Aziraphale in S2: "You mean like a sudden rainstorm forces them together beneath a canopy... and they look into each other's eyes and realize they were made for each other."

Vavoom. Alternatively: va-va-voom. Voluptuously sexy. Of or portending to sensual pleasure. How Crowley described his hypothetical-for-Maggie-and-Nina erotic-gazing-into-a-passionate-kiss-while-sheltering-from-rain-together-under-a-canopy thing that is absolutely not Crowley and Aziraphale's first kiss recounted back to Aziraphale by Crowley as his definition of romance. Not at all. Crowley just has a thing about tree canopies and their modern rain-sheltering cousins, umbrellas, ok? We didn't just spot The Vavoom hidden there in 1.01 a bit, too. Absolutely not. ;)

"Or frou frou cocktails with little umbrellas" (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). Heaven is definitely not very big on opulent mixed angel-demon drinks like us and our little romance... We're never going to kiss again, angel. Do you really want to spend *eternity* without ever kissing one another again?

According to S2, the answer to that question is that Aziraphale cannot handle the thought to a point of having a complete breakdown of 'what if you were an angel again so we never had to worry?' desperation, so this is probably why Aziraphale's downward hands of 'argh, not right now-- I can't handle this' show up at this point in 2008, as they finish crossing the street and arrive at the entrance to the bookshop.

This is when Aziraphale starts in on his whole "I'm an angel; you're a demon" stuff again but the tone of it is pretty soft and he adds this bit into it:

"We're hereditary enemies." Something which is hereditary is something which you've inherited through no fault of your own and without your agreement. Often, something foisted upon you that you would not have chosen. Aziraphale's comparing their situation to things like hereditary disease-- they didn't ask for it. It's not their fault. The reality of it, though, is still present. This is a way of reassuring Crowley that, even though Crowley could see through the Yay, Heaven! from the earlier St. James Park scene, that Aziraphale doesn't see him as the enemy and would never have chosen this whole mess. He's not yet agreeing to help Crowley stop Armageddon-- the odds are good that he never was going to while they were outside of the bookshop anyway and Crowley knows that. Everything Crowley has said so far is preamble to his argument for stopping Armageddon later on, when they're inside, sobered up, and Aziraphale is ready to work on a potential plan with him.

After "hereditary enemies"...

"Get thee behind me, foul fiend." Blasphemous Bible-speak delivered flirtatiously as a sexual invitation. Not the only scene in the series with blasphemous innuendo but this one line alone could be its own meta so, in an effort to keep this at under 4 billion words lol, we're just going to look at how this is relevant to lunching.

Foul fiend is just Biblical speak for wicked demon. "Wicked" and "demon" are words in the same vein as "wily", "thwart" and "smitten"--words with dual layers of contradictory meanings that Crowley and Aziraphale love to use in their language. To be "wicked" is to be evil in the sense of in line with Satan, yes, but it's also to be playfully mischievous and is a positive adjective used in place of "excellent" at times. To be a "demon" is to be a familiar of the Devil, yes, but it's also to be extremely skillful and talented at a particular thing.

Aziraphale does the whole "I'm an angel. You're a demon. We're hereditary enemies" thing but then turns around and uses "foul fiend"/"wicked demon" in the non-satanic definitions of it through his fond and suggestive tone. He's not calling Crowley evil-- he's calling Crowley playfully mischievous. He's calling him trouble in a light and fun way. He's not calling him a demon in a derogatory sense but in the skillful sense. The same words that mean "evil ally of Satan" also mean "playful and talented"-- Aziraphale has added context by situation and tone of voice/delivery to essentially turn "foul fiend" into calling Crowley "a demon" in bed, in the "skillful" sense of the word. It becomes fuck me, my very wicked demon by use of a suggestive tone.

But it's the use of "get thee behind me" that is most relevant to 2008 here because remember when I told you we'd come back to crepes?

Crepes. Thin, French pancakes. Can be had almost anytime of the day because they are quite versatile-- savory, sweet, for lunch, for dessert, you name it lol. As sexual euphemism, though, we are really looking at how 'pancakes' have been used traditionally by people using food as euphemisms for sex and that is, unsurprisingly, in relation to how a pancake is cooked. I think we've all probably made actual-pancakes-the-food before or at least have seen it done so it probably will not come as a surprise to you that you have to turn a pancake over to griddle it on both sides for it to be done.

As a result, any sexual euphemism involving pancakes is referring to sex that involves a switch from an initial position to a second position that is literally just the receptive partner turning over. So, in order to fully get Aziraphale's love of his romantic French pancakes here, we'd have to have the starting position of crepes and that is something the show actually gives us because why not at this point lol.

"Get thee behind me" after they've spent the afternoon setting up this 1793-inspired crepe-a-palooza indicates that the starting position of crepes is Aziraphale getting done from behind but he'll turn over because he likes to finish his French pancakes facing Crowley.

Vavavoom Yellow. The color of Crowley's eyes and the actual name of the actual paint the actual people involved with this show painted the actual walls of the bookshop. The color Aziraphale turned The Bentley after making it take off its black and silver sunglasses. Crowley's only out here trying to seduce Aziraphale in every other scene by looking at him over his glasses or taking them off or going on about their tantric eye sex into their first kiss... Seems possible Aziraphale might have a thing for Crowley's eyes, no?

"After you." Aziraphale wants crepes for dessert, though. After "get thee behind me, foul fiend", he gestures Crowley into the bookshop with a very witty "after you", which is both politely letting him go first into the bookshop and insisting he is in bed later as well.

Inviting Crowley inside the bookshop with the "after you" in tandem with inviting him inside with the "get thee behind me" is also then using the fact that Crowley is allowed into the bookshop as sexual metaphor for being allowed inside, well, Aziraphale. This gives it a partner scene in S2, when Aziraphale turns The Bentley into a sexual metaphor and is going for the innuendo gold when he then again uses the bookshop to euphemistically refer to himself with "... just as that bookshop is, technically, my shop... but we both get *plenty* of use out of it, don't we?"

God. The only other character on Good Omens aside from Crowley and Aziraphale themselves who speaks Ineffable Husbands Speak. Character responsible for teaching us one of its most important code words-- "nightingales"-- and who ships it so hard that She had a literal nightingale singing as a joke on their dual-meaning-happy language in the S1 finale. Our narrator in S1.

"...while, in London SoHo, an angel and a demon had been drinking solidly for the last six of them." As we cut away from Crowley & Aziraphale's scenes in 2008 to see The Youngs leave the satanic nunnery with their new baby, God points out-- with a hilarious 'oh my stupid children, scared of a baby' tone-- that "The Antichrist had been on Earth for 24 hours." If we can assume that The Youngs were not sent home from the hospital with a new baby in the middle of the night and that it's closer to the more civilized option of a dinner hour, then that would also go with the fact that Aziraphale was having dinner during all of this the night prior, right? Which means it's dinner time, if we're at 24 hours later. Which means that if, in London SoHo, an angel and a demon have been "drinking solidly" for the last six hours, then God is counting the entire afternoon since Crowley and Aziraphale met up for lunch as "drinking solidly" and that's because "drinking" in Ineffable Husbands Speak isn't just alcohol but sex. Yes, that's God making a sex joke. (She has a few more in S1, too.)

"Baby." Term of endearment for a romantic and/or sexual partner that has been documented as having been in existence since at least around the 1830s but was mainstreamed by American jazz, soul and rock 'n roll music and cinema.

While Crowley and Aziraphale are in the alcohol stage of their alcohol, they get plastered on Chateauneuf-de-Pape and Crowley, in a drunken ramble that we will realize by S2 is inspired by Aziraphale's magic words and their conversation in 1941, is going on about what is going to happen to the creatures of Earth when the world ends. He begins to try to say that the fish will be "turned into bouillabaisse" but that word is too difficult for him to say while drunk. While attempting to, he gets distracted gazing at Aziraphale and calls him "baby" in a low voice and then we get their hilarious very drunk kissy faces. Crowley manages to translate "bouillabaisse" in his mind enough to "fish stew-- anyway!" and they sober up soon afterwards to have an actually semi-coherent conversation and some actual alcohol.

In the context of lunching, this becomes getting drunk and distracted by thoughts of later in the middle of trying to talk-- and we know now thanks to S2 that Crowley is also distracted by thoughts of 1941 here at the same time, as he's going on about bananas, fish, and gorillas. We've never heard him call Aziraphale anything but his name or "angel" with the exception of this scene, when they're alone in the bookshop with alcohol on the brain. Aziraphale is drunk but he also doesn't react like it's unusual-- if he heard it, to be honest, as he seemed a bit devoted to stringing together his thoughts related to The Kraken... that great, bigggg bugger, as Aziraphale described him, not at all thinking about the quite extraordinary amounts of buggery they were going to get up to later on.

But, anyway, there's the scene where Crowley calls Aziraphale "baby" in 2008 and that might suggest that he does if they're alone and there's no risk of anyone overhearing it. (As "angel", at least, is theoretically meant to be calling Aziraphale by what he is in a semi-derogatory way but Crowley's honestly never made that work a day in his life lol.)

Thwarting. See: separate meta on my blog on "wily", "thwart" and "smitten" as examples of words with contradictory, dual meanings that Crowley and Aziraphale like to use in the 'angel-and-demon' sense on the surface but in their 'sexy/romantic' connotations in their hidden language. While talking about a plan to stop Armageddon, Crowley uses "wiles"-- the enticing and feminine-leaning-in-connotation definition of "wily"-- in a dry joke where the surface level is about how it's the role of an angel to stop the Evil One (his demon counterpart) at every turn but is really using "wiles" in its seductive definition. He also uses "thwarting" in a way that is substituting it in a sentence for "fucking" on the hidden language level: "You can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of The Divine Plan, too."

Indeed, Crowley. Indeed.

"...at every turn." Ha. Crowley has crepes jokes. Think of all the French pancakes we can have for eternity if we thwart Armageddon, angel...

Godfathers. The 2008 minisode scenes end with them deciding to have a baby. Crowley's like I have a plan to stop the end of the world and it's that we crash this mansion and live together raising a kid like a little family and I've thought of a way you can sell it to Heaven-- whaddya say? And Aziraphale melts into a puddle of sparkly-eyed joy and they have some quippy lines about being damned that feel like foreshadowing for Aziraphale something fierce but this is where we leave 2008. Right here.

After alcohol, but before alcohol, ya dig?

Lunch (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). A recurring date of kinky lunch and spending time together that is pre-determined to end hours later with sex that is at least somewhat decided upon at the start of lunch, often euphemistically through discussion of " lunch food" and/or their romantic encounters in their shared past.

Off of this, let's go look at our partner scene of The Bastille again, now using 2008 to illuminate parts of it.

Paris, 1793. Crowley and Aziraphale playing 'damsel in distress and dashing hero rescuer' in The Bastille. Seven years before Aziraphale opens the bookshop; thirty years before Crowley's dragged to Hell in Edinburgh. They've been getting away with this forever at this point, to a point that while they're still overall cautious and terrified of getting caught, they're starting to think it's possible they never will because they've managed to keep it a secret this long. Aziraphale is dry and arch when referencing the recent "strongly-worded note" he apparently received from Gabriel about doing "frivolous miracles". Even though the note might not exist as this whole scene is, basically, a roleplay game, the attitude there is that they're getting one over on Heaven & Hell and are taking advantage of it.

We all know things like Aziraphale lighting up when Crowley shows up and the "oh, good Lord" while raking his eyes over him-- we're just going to look at some bits here that have more significance in Ineffable Husbands Speak.

As a side note here: the buttons on the black part of Crowley's outfit in Paris also are very similar in style to the jacket he's wearing in the Let's Have Lunch scene in 2008, in a fun bit of visual paralleling between the partner scenes via the costuming. This scene is also a great one for the consistent thing in the series where Aziraphale will casually reference God and Satan ("oh, good Lord"/"luck of the devil" in the Tadfield Manor scene) but Crowley will not ("what the deuce are you doing locked up in The Bastille?").

So, Crowley does his whole haughty and faux-put-upon thing upon arriving and S2 actually makes how he arrives even funnier because he spends the first half of the scene lounging on the floor across the room, which has real Job's cellar vibes. Later in the scene, we get the "well, you're lucky I was in the area" and Aziraphale's reply of "I was", both lines of which are arch as all fuck. They ring with a kind of knowing playfulness that honestly signals the whole thing is not exactly an organic situation. Crowley has come to Aziraphale's rescue out of nowhere before and odds are solid that led to Aziraphale's whole rescue kink awakening here lol but this scene in 1793 is not that. Crowley was absolutely "in the area" with his calendar cleared for whatever sexual hijinks the angel wanted to get up to that afternoon. He's committed to the bit and asks near the start: "what the deuce are you doing locked up in The Bastille?", prompting Aziraphale's response of "I got peckish."

"Peckish", meaning "slightly hungry", but you don't wade through a revolution because you could use a snack so Aziraphale's downplaying it for humor-- he's fucking starving. And not really for food. They have food in England. Aziraphale has intentionally got himself locked up in The Bastille because he's horny, which he's expressing using food terms because of course he is. Ineffable Husbands Speak was created by this dry-humored and self-deprecating duo, one of whom is the Serpent of Eden and the other of whom is a bit of a raging gourmand and, together, they've never met anything consumable that they can't make into sexual innuendo.

To learning that Aziraphale on the surface needed a snack and, in Ineffable Husbands Speak, needs a snack, Crowley has this hilarious response:

Go on, Crowley, keep pretending like you're offended that this is all just because Aziraphale is horny and like you think it's not specific to you, like you wouldn't let him nibble on you whenever he wants lol.

Tell him he's special, Aziraphale, and not just one of your favorite toys. You dragged him to a prison cell feet away from a guillotine for this.

"Well, if you must know, it was the crepes. And the brioche. Can't get decent ones anywhere outside of Paris." is Aziraphale's quite illuminating reply.

Paris is France and anything Parisian or French is coded as romantic and as related to love to them, even if we know how much they speak around those words. We know what crepes are now from the 2008 scene and we'll look at brioche in a moment but we can already see that this sentence, translated from Ineffable Husbands Speak, is Aziraphale saying that he can fuck his way around the world (and we know it's suggested that he has at times) but he feels that it's never as good for him as it is with Crowley because the crepes and the brioche are better when they're had in Paris-- because sex with Crowley is better for Aziraphale than with anyone else because of how they feel about each other.

Probably also worth mentioning that crepes and brioche both originated in France (many societies around the world have versions of crepes but the crepe itself is French) so this is also really saying it's just always been Crowley for Aziraphale since the start and Aziraphale was alluding to that to Crowley in the Paris, 1793 scene.

Brioche. A bit of a bread, a bit of a cake, it is a bit sweet and rich like a pastry and falls mostly somewhere there on the French deliciousness spectrum between the two and treated by chefs and bakers as a bit of both. As a result, can wind up in many different meals throughout the day, in different ways. Brioche = Crowley, in food form. Can be used to make sandwiches (ha) but is most well-known as the signature bread used to make French toast. French toast is traditionally made the same way as crepes-- involving turning, like pancakes.

Brioche (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). Both Crowley himself, in food form (bread is necessary for sandwiches, after all) and crepes-as-sex reversed between them with Crowley as the receptive partner.

[Crowley is also suggested to be black bread, according to God's narration, in the St. James Park scene, leading me to believe that he's just every kind of bread Aziraphale likes, which is probably most of them.]

Aziraphale invites Crowley to lunch and we know now that lunching was already a thing for them then. True to form, the scene ends with their first step of lunch-- the anticipatory part-- with Crowley asking "what's for lunch?", which we now understand to mean the same thing as "I still owe you one from..." in 2008. He's asking Aziraphale what he would like for lunch and we know already from 2008 that they went out for crepes and had a whole French buffet.

Armageddon: Round One. 2019. Averted. Afterwards, they meet up in a park and swap bodies back unnoticed because we didn't have enough secret sexual relationship stuff already happening on this show lol so yay metaphor and now there's a full-circle back to the bench at St. James Park in 1.01 but now with them having survived and at least temporarily halted Armageddon. Then, as they start to adjust to the whirlwind being over, it's Crowley with:

"Time to leave The Garden." Crowley likening Aziraphale and himself to Adam and Eve-- and just prior to proposing that he and Aziraphale go get their Garden on with a little lunch. Shows that Crowley and Aziraphale are more than aware of how much they parallel the first humans and reinforces that all of the Eden references and related humor in their romantic relationship that we've seen is not coincidental but intentional.

To ask Aziraphale if you can "tempt him to a spot of lunchchch" while opening up your hip to spread your thighs and angle yourself to suggest that your body is also on the menu. Complete with the 'wanna go to bed?' head tilt of 1601 and 2008 fame. I mean...

Meanwhile, Aziraphale's barely conscious of the fact that he's rubbing his thighs and looking at Crowley's lips...

To reply "Temptation accomplished." with a cutely dorky little laugh to Crowley's invitation to lunch. To never be one to say no to a spot of lunch and accept the invitation, while joking around about how neither of you ever actually tempt each other, you just find each other tempting, in the 'attractive' sense of the word.

Anticipatory kink. The first part of lunch.

To say that a table at The Ritz has miraculously come free. To suggest that you have 2008/Eleven Years Ago for lunch, coming full circle back to 1.01 in the S1 finale. 2019 is 2008 is 1793 is...

Champagne tea/high tea. The meal that Crowley and Aziraphale are actually eating when they go to lunch in the S1 finale. Features champagne and macarons, both of which are French, adding to the romance and the ties to 1793. There also appears to be an apple-hued tea on the table, nodding to Eden.

PTSD. What causes Crowley to sometimes go quiet and zone out. In 2008, we came in on the end of their meal at The Ritz and Crowley was in the moment. In 2019, we see the start of their lunch part of lunch and Crowley is not at all present. He's facing ahead and staring into space at nothing, exhausted and not in the moment. Aziraphale's partner check-in is different this time, as he can tell that Crowley is not with him. He draws him back to the now with a bit of romance.

"...if you weren't, at heart, just a little bit of a good person." I love you, you know.

"And if you weren't just enough of a bastard worth to be worth knowing." I love you, too.

"A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square." Romantic 1940 song containing the lyric "angels were dining at The Ritz" that formed the basis for Aziraphale creating "dining at The Ritz" as a code phrase meaning a more acknowledged and somewhat more open relationship in the future... which they then celebrate agreeing to try by literally dining at The Ritz, in line with their dual layers of meaning-happy language. We're still awaiting the origins of the song as their song but it is to a point that one of them has the pianist playing an instrumental version of it during this afternoon tea lunch in 2019. We also get Tori Amos' cover playing over the scene because dual layers of everything.

Literal nightingale singing. God showing only us the bird that Crowley and Aziraphale don't know is actually singing is the show acknowledging that our perspective is, like God's, on the outside of the relationship but we are now able to understand it. To see the literal nightingale but know what it means both symbolically and in Ineffable Husbands Speak is to see that there are different levels of meaning beneath the surface of what we've been watching.

Nightingales (in Ineffable Husbands Speak). Romantic love. Specifically, Crowley and Aziraphale's word for their love for one another.

[pastelwitchling]

Michael tells Alex about the Dictator.

Michael was leaning forward on his knees, staring at the flames of the bonfire. He was slowly losing his mind, he knew it, but that didn’t make him pick up his phone and call Max for guidance or Isobel to apologize. He didn’t call Maria to ask if she was having any visions about his future, or Valenti to look him over for a burn mark he might’ve miraculously missed.

Mr. Jones had told him all he’d needed to know, and now the rest of the world felt muffled, like there was cotton in his ears. He didn’t want to talk to his siblings, he didn’t want his friends’ advice or insight. He didn’t think he could ever move away from this bonfire again, watching the flames taunt him. Because they knew they couldn’t hurt him, and that it was torturing him.

When a car drove up to the junkyard, Michael was flooded with memories of another late-night visitor. He looked up, traitorous hope climbing his throat before he could help it. When he saw Isobel behind the wheel, his heart sagged back to the bottom of his stomach, and he returned to staring at the fire.

It was frightening how, even after a year apart, just the thought of the airman cut through his haze like a knife.

Isobel stepped out of her car and stood across the bonfire, her arms crossed. She sighed. “I think you should talk to Alex.”

Michael’s eyes flickered upward. Isobel looked shaken, and the brotherly part of him wanted to be protective and concerned, but the bigger part couldn’t muster the will.

He offered a small, humorless smirk, the only kind he could manage, and held his still untouched beer bottle to his lips. “Pardon?”

Isobel wasn’t having it. She came to stand in front of Michael, blocking his view of the flames. “You’re not okay,” she said simply.

“Would you be?” he answered without looking at her, the cruelty evident in his tone.

“I don’t know why you’re listening to Jones of all people,” she tried. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t –”

“Is,” Michael cut her off, shutting his eyes. “Not now, okay?”

Isobel said nothing for a moment, then huffed. She grabbed the chair nearest Michael, pulled it closer, and sat down, facing him. “You need to talk to Alex, Michael. You’ve . . . you’ve never listened to anybody like you listen to him, and he’s smart. He’ll tell you what I already know, and . . .” she shook her head. “Maybe you’ll believe him.”

Michael said nothing. He said nothing as Isobel sighed, kissed his temple, and told him she’d come by again in the morning. He said nothing as she got in her car with a final plea for him to go see Alex. He said nothing as she drove away.

He said nothing because he couldn’t admit that he’d been terrified of this beyond anything else. Facing Alex again, after everything he’d done. But he wanted it. He wanted to see Alex so badly, and though he knew it might only push him further over the edge until he felt nothing at all, he also knew he would be worse off not seeing Alex at all.

When Michael dared ask himself what he wanted, the answer was clear; he didn’t want to see or talk to anybody, but he could manage just enough strength to talk to Alex. Only to Alex.

On his way to Alex’s house, he thought of all the ways he could explain what he was doing there, where to begin in what he’d discovered. But it looked like Alex had somehow known he was coming because he didn’t give him the luxury of working out a script in his head. Instead, Michael found him in his front garden, kneeling in the mud and pulling at weeds. He had one hand on the dirt beside a few roses, as if careful not to accidentally hurt them.

Michael pulled his truck to a stop, watching the ends of Alex’s hair stick to his skin with sweat, the way his brows pinched in concentration, but his hands worked gently. A lump formed in Michael’s throat. He thought about the things he’d said to Alex almost two years ago, and the way he’d made him feel.

“I don’t think we’re good for each other, Alex.”

“I like Maria, okay?”

“I’m saying no.”

Michael shut his eyes tight. What right did he have to talk to Alex now? He clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. He started to turn the steering wheel when Alex glanced up and their eyes caught through the windshield.

Alex straightened and raised a hand in startled greeting. Michael hesitated. He should’ve driven away, escaped as quickly as possible, but he hadn’t seen Alex in a year, and only barely glimpsed him at the bus stop when he’d come back before he quickly turned away, unable to stand the sight of him and Forrest together. And he missed him. He missed him like he didn’t think he could ever miss anybody.

Seeing him now had Michael itching to be closer, to touch. Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he parked his truck. Alex pushed himself to his feet as Michael stepped out.

“Hey –” Michael started and stopped as Alex breathlessly pulled him in for a one-armed hug.

“Hi,” Alex said and started to pull away, but Michael kept a hand on his back, keeping him close for a few more seconds. He turned his face into his hair, breathing him in. He was so warm and felt so good, his soft strands tickling Michael’s cheek.

When Alex finally stepped back, Michael saw that he looked tired, but was smiling, his cheeks dusted pink. “I was going to come see you tonight.”

“Y-You were?”

“Yeah,” Alex dusted the mud off the hem of his shirt, but Michael’s hand was still on his waist. “We haven’t talked since I got back. I missed you.”

Michael let his hand fall and allowed himself to stay close. Just for another few minutes, before Alex found out the truth about him and pushed him away in disgust.

He forced a chuckle. “I’m flattered, Private.”

As Alex searched Michael’s face, his eyes narrowed, and his smile slowly dimmed. “What’s wrong?”

Michael’s brows furrowed and he was about to shake his head, to say nothing was wrong, then Alex pursed his lips and said, “That bad, huh?”

He tried for another chuckle, but it got caught in his throat and sounded weak to his own ears. “Alex, I don’t –”

But Alex was already dusting the dirt off his hands. Michael briefly noted the strange new ring on his finger. At his confused look, Alex smiled, “I’ll put some coffee on.”

Ten minutes later found Michael in Alex’s living room, two steaming cups of coffee on the table in front of them. Michael sat on Alex’s couch, while Alex took the bench in front of his keyboard. He had changed into his sweats and an Air Force t-shirt, and Michael kept alternating between fear of what he would say, studying every freckle on Alex’s face and neck, and ogling his strong arms. He was always toned, but it was evident he’d spent the last year working out.

“You look good,” he thoughtlessly blurted.

“And you’re stalling,” Alex said, blushing.

“I’m not,” Michael truthfully said. “You look really good.”

“Guerin,” Alex leaned in. “What happened?”

Michael met Alex’s eyes and felt his own burn, the plagues of his mind coming at him at once with the genuine care in Alex’s eyes. He wondered how many minutes he would have before that kindness turned to cruel satisfaction.

“Karma,” he said. “I . . .” he looked down at his lap, his fingers playing. “I think I know who my dad is.”

Alex’s eyes widened slightly before his captain’s training kicked in, and he schooled his expression to one of indifference. “Okay. Who?”

Michael shook his head. He whispered, “A monster.”

At the confused furrow of Alex’s brows, Michael launched into the story of everything Jones had told them. He thought it’d be impossible to speak at all, but Alex held his gaze and it gave him a strength he didn’t think would last outside these walls.

By the time he was done, he was pacing the length of the living room, and Alex watched calmly from where he sat.

“This guy might’ve chased my mom and Louise off our planet in the first place,” Michael raged, his heart racing. “My mom – my mom, Alex – made Max in a lab so she could use him.” A rough chuckle escaped his lips. “And all the crap I gave you because of Jesse –”

“Guerin,” Alex said gently. “Sit down. Please.”

Michael clenched his fists, and sat down. He shook his head, staring at his cold cup of coffee. “What do I do now?”

Alex raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Michael looked up at him. “Alex,” he reminded him, “my dad’s a villain.”

“So is mine,” Alex sighed, taking their mugs to the sink. “It happens.”

Michael stared, and stood to follow. “Do you not get –”

“I get that this is freaking you out,” Alex said simply, and turned to face him. He leaned against the sink. “I get that you’re angry.”

“Angry?” he scoffed. “I’m a monster’s son!”

Alex raised a cool brow. “So?”

“So my parents are supposed to be heroes!” he slammed his fist against the wall, and all the furniture jumped a good foot before falling back down.

Alex looked unaffected, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. “I know.”

“My mom used Max! My dad destroyed everything!”

“I know.”

“Fire,” he breathed, “fire doesn’t hurt me, Alex.” He shook his head. “It feels wrong.”

Alex took Michael’s face in his hands. “It’s not.”

Michael opened his mouth on a silent sentence, whatever he was going to say next lost as Alex brushed his cheek with his thumb.

“I . . .”

Alex gently pulled Michael in against him, hugging his shoulders. Against the crook of his neck, he whispered, “I’m sorry your family’s more human than you wanted them to be.”

Michael shuddered. He tried to push Alex away, to get angry, but in his embrace all he could feel was the desperate need to be closer. He ended up grabbing Alex’s hips, his fingers curled tightly in the material of his shirt.

“Why don’t you hate me?” he demanded. “Yell at me, laugh, tell me I deserve this!”

Alex held him tighter and shook his head.

“Why not?” he urged through grit teeth, his eyes burning. “I do deserve it, Alex. I made you feel like crap because of your dad. I . . . I left you alone –”

“Shh,” Alex said softly, raking a gentle hand through Michael’s curls.

“Hate me,” he begged. “Please, get mad at me.”

“Am I monster,” Alex asked, and Michael stilled, “because of my dad?”

Michael was already shaking his head. “You’re my hero, Alex,” he said without missing a beat. “But –”

“And you’re mine,” Alex whispered, his lips brushing the bare skin of Michael’s shoulder where his shirt was pulled back. It made it very hard for Michael to think.

He opened his mouth to argue, to say something, but before he realized his vision had gone blurry, big fat tears were falling down his cheeks and onto Alex’s shirt. Alex held him even tighter.

“We’ll figure it out,” Alex said lightly, as if this was no big deal. As if he had no doubt in his mind the kind of person Michael was, the hero he was. “Everything’s fine, Guerin. I promise everything’s fine.”

Michael’s hands slowly came up Alex’s back, his fingers clawing through his shirt and into his skin, holding him back even tighter.

“I missed you, Alex,” Michael breathed, and buried his face in the crook of Alex’s neck. “I missed you so much.”

Alex chuckled softly. “I’m flattered.”

[zafirosreverie]

Can you make a Agatha x reader where Agatha accidentally blast reader with her magic and is unconscious but can here everything. And she can hear Agatha trying to wake her up but for some reason she can’t wake up so Agatha takes care and of her until she wakes up. But reader hears everything Agatha says to her. With a good and fluffy ending please. I love you work it gives me life🥰!!!!

Aww that's so sweet of you love! Thank you so much!

This ended up being longer than i intended but i loved writing it! I hope you enjoy it and that it was what you expected ❤

Warnings: angst but a happy ending

The day that time stopped (Agatha x Fem!reader)

Ah, shit. Well, you fucked up. 

You were making a cake for your and your girlfriend to celebrate your birthday (even when you knew the date didn’t matter in the current reality of Westview), when you noticed you were out of sugar. You rolled your eyes at the cliché of the scene, pretty sure it was Westview wanting you to play the neighbor that asked for sugar, but ever since you arrived at the town, you had no intention to follow Wanda’s script unless it was necessary and it involved a scene with Agatha. 

“If I’m going to play a character, I’m gonna be the lesbian neighbor” you once said to your girlfriend, making the witch laugh. Later, when Tommy and Billy started calling you and Agnes “aunts”, you winked at her and celebrated the promotion to “lesbian aunt”. 

Smiling at the memory, you decided to ask Agatha to magically appear sugar. You knew she hated when you asked her to use her magic for something so simple, but also knew she wasn’t able to say no to you, especially on your birthday. Never was, never will.

Smirking, you had gone to the basement, not really paying attention. Your mistake. The first rule of dating a witch is to always be careful when she was doing magic.

“Ags, can you help me with th-”  You stopped talking when everything turned black.

“Y/N!”

Agatha ran to you when you fell unconscious to the floor. She was making a spell that would allow her to knock out Wanda for a moment, enough to let her steal her magic and run with you. She was so concentrated that she didn’t hear your steps and your voice made her jump. 

“Y/N” she said again, gently moving you, trying to wake you up. You didn’t answer. That’s when she noticed her hands were still glowing and she gasped in horror. She used the spell in you. The spell that was meant for a powerful magic being, used in a human. 

“I’m fine, dear. But woah, if you wanted to have me on the floor, i know a better way” You joked, trying to get up. But you couldn’t. In fact, you couldn’t move at all. “What the- Aggie? A little help?” You said, or, actually thought. Your mouth wasn’t moving, and you couldn’t even open your eyes. “Oh. Oh no”.

You knew this place. It was your mind. You were trapped in your mind. Well, shit.

“Y/N, love, please answer me” You heard Agatha saying and you knew she was scared. You felt her magic wrapping around you, and a string pulling from the back of your mind, trying, begging you to wake up. But it didn’t work. 

Agatha felt tears begin to fill her eyes. Her magic wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working?!

“Please, please, wake up dear” She whispered, pushing her magic harder.

“I’m trying!” You thought, starting to worry. If she couldn’t help, how could you get out of here? You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped in your mind. 

“Hon, don’t do this to me. Please don’t” she begged, a little desperate. It broke your heart hearing her like that.

“I’m trying, doll, but i can’t.” You thought, wishing you could do something to make her feel better. You knew she was always afraid of hurting you with her magic, and you managed to convince her that it wouldn’t happen, but now, you weren’t sure how you’ll manage to calm her after this ended. At least, you hoped it would end.

Agatha felt the tears rolling down her cheeks when she realised her magic wouldn’t be enough to wake you up. She hated herself at that moment. How could she hurt you like this? 

“I’m so sorry love, please forgive me” she whispered, pressing a kiss on your temple, taking you in her arms and carefully lifting you. She used her magic to make the spell book follow her as she took you to your shared bedroom. 

You felt her put you in the bed gently, before climbing next to you. She put your head on her lap while she quickly turned to the book, trying to find something, anything, that could help you.

“I’m gonna fix this, love, I promise” you heard her say, while one of her hands caressed your cheek. It made your fears disappear, you knew she would never stop until she made you wake up. 

“It’s ok pumpkin, take your time” you thought, wanting to hold her hand. 

Agatha read as fast as she could, anxiety blooming in her chest. It has to be something she could do, anything. She cursed herself for not being more careful, she should have closed the door to the basement, she should have heard your steps. She should have waited to do the spell, and spend the day with you instead, like you asked. It was your birthday, for lord’s sake! 

“I’m sorry, dear, I’m so sorry” she mumbled again, knowing you couldn’t hear her, but needing to say it anyway. Her free hand going up and down your arm in an attempt to calm herself. Her heart stopped for a moment when she read the last part of the spell. 

Time. It was a matter of time.

“No” she whispered and you worried. “Wait? That 's all?! I can’t wait!” she growled and you felt her throwing the book to the other side of the room. You would have jumped if you could. Agatha sighed and turned to you, gently touching your face. She knew the book was right, she just had to wait and pray for you to wake up soon.

“I should have listened to you” she whispered in your hair, pulling you closer to her “when you asked me to spend the day with you, I should have taken you in my arms and carried you to bed again. Even better, I shouldn't have even got up. I should have keep you with me” 

Your heart melted at her words. When you woke up that morning, you had covered her face with small kisses, waking her up too. You giggled when she pouted at the early hour and you reminded her it was your birthday, kissing her again before pulling her over you. She had chuckled and joked about you wanting her at all times. She wasn’t wrong.

But when you asked her to spend the day with you, she sighed and told you she had to practice the spell so she could be ready to steal Wanda’s powers. It made you pout, but you understood that she had more important things to do. Agatha promised you to spend the rest of the day with you after she was done. Too bad you weren’t that patience and fucked it all up.

What a way to spend your birthday. Trapped in your mind while your girlfriend was having a crisis trying to wake you up. Great, just great. 

“If any ancient and mystic force is listening, please don’t take her away from me” She whispered suddenly, hugging you tighter.

When she was a young witch, her mother and the rest of the coven would often say there were other forces, stronger than witches, and that they’d help them when their magic wasn't enough. But she never believed that. For Agatha, a witch that relied on other than her magic, was weak and not worthy of being a witch at all. 

That was until she met you and she was afraid of her magic for the first time. You were just a human, but you meant the world for her and her magic could be too much for you to handle. A witch afraid of her power was a dangerous thing.That’s why she didn’t tell you she was a witch until you made clear you were serious with her. 

It was a huge relief when you looked at her with wonder in your eyes after she told you. She was afraid you would be scared and run away from her, but you had been eager to be part of her world, to learn everything she had to teach you, to understand and support her. She loved you more than anything.

Except power. A voice said in her head, making her feel guilty. Her hunger for power made her often leave you alone for days, even months. She never thought too much about it because when she came back, you were always there, waiting for her. You never complained about it, never said you felt alone, even when she saw it in your eyes. You never tried to change her. 

And it hurted her heart, realising how much you loved her. You didn’t say it out loud too often, but you were always making small things to prove it. And she took them for granted. But now, she saw how little she did for you, how small it was what she gave you, when you always gave her the world. Your world.

“I’m so sorry” she cried again, kissing you softly “I promise i will never leave you alone again, love. I promise i will give you everything i have, everything i am”

You frowned in your mind. You were heartbroken. You didn’t want to hear her like that.

“You already did it, Aggie” you thought “You give me all I want everyday you share your world with me. Every time you answer my questions, no matter how simple they are, when you allow me to watch you do magic, when you hug me, every kiss you give me. That’s all i want, and you give it to me everyday”.

“I’m so sorry i make you wait for me for too long” she said, unaware of your thoughts “It isn’t fair for you, I shouldn’t take your presence for granted” her tears falling to your face as she kissed you again.

“Please don’t cry, love” you begged on your mind. Stupid spell. Then, you remembered watching a documentary when you were alone in a hotel room, waiting for her to return from a reconnaissance trip.

It was about how human’s mind can be powerful and even made some people recover from serious injuries. At that moment, you laughed and thought it was a silly idea, but hearing Agatha like that, was enough to try anything. 

“I don’t deserve you” you heard the witch whispering. She sounded so broken. 

“Ok, that’s enough” you thought and tried again to move. Nothing.

“You’re too much for me” she mumbled.

“Okay, mind. You and I are not understanding each other. Either you help me here or we're going to have serious problems.”

“I promise i will do anything to be worthy of you” one of her tears fell into your own eyelid. 

“WAKE UP!” You thought, desperately “She’s crying! Just wake up, god damnit” You yelled on your mind. But Agatha’s magic was strong and you couldn’t move. It seemed like whoever made that documentary, never met a powerful witch.

You sighed and wanted to cry. But you couldn’t even do that.

____________

Agatha spent all day crying and hugging you, apologizing for what she did to you and promising you she would never use her magic around you ever again. You wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault and the fact that she wanted to hide what she really was, broke your heart. 

You couldn’t know how much time had passed, but you were sure it was hours. When you felt Agatha changing your clothes gently (with her own hands, not her magic, you noticed), you knew it was night already. You spent your birthday trapped on your mind because you didn’t want to play your role and ask for sugar.

“Goddamnit Y/N” You scolded yourself.

You felt Agatha taking you in her arms again after she changed herself too. She pressed a kiss on your temple and you knew she didn’t stop crying all day. You were sure she didn’t even eat anything. God, it was a nightmare.

___________

Days passed and you were still unconscious. Agatha was so scared and tired. She barely slept and didn't even eat properly. She didn’t want to be away from you for too long, in case you woke up, but her hopes were always shattered when the night came and you didn’t wake up. It all felt like the same day, as if the time had stopped for her.

She didn’t go downstairs. The living room was still decorated with everything you had put for your birthday. At first, she told herself that she didn’t clean anything because you would be awake soon and you two could celebrate. But deep inside, she just wasn’t able to look at the decorations without getting to her knees and cry. She felt so guilty. 

“She just wanted to spend the day, her day, with you Agatha” she scolded herself “You couldn’t even give her a single fucking day” she said angrily. 

How could she claim to love you when she couldn’t even put her hunger for power aside? For just one day? She swore that the moment you wake up, she will take you and leave this hunted town. She will never let her own selfish wishes get between you two ever again. 

“You’re lying” The voice in her head mocked “You know the moment you get the chance to get more power, you’ll put her aside again. You won’t even keep the promise of leaving this place, not until you get that magic”

Agatha gasped when she finally noticed the voice her head was making up. It was her mother’s. She felt herself hit the floor and rested her in the wall, her tears rolling down her cheeks again. She already lost count of how much time she has spent crying in the past days. Much more than she has ever done, that’s for sure. 

It felt like the puzzle of her life was missing a part, and that was you. You were the piece that made her chaos make sense. And she was so lost without you. 

“Aggie” a soft whisper said, too low she almost didn’t hear it. She stood up quickly, but didn’t move. It wasn’t the first time her mind played tricks on her. She had heard your voice a few times, but everytime she ran to your side, you were still unconscious. Not sleeping well was taking its toll.

She was about to sit on the floor again, when she heard the whisper again.

“Aggie”

She didn’t want to get her hopes high again, but she also didn’t want you to wake up without her right next to you. You had already spent too much time waiting for her. 

You groaned when you felt yourself moving. It started subtly, your fingertips tapping on the bed, then your ankles shaking a little. It felt too good having a body again. You couldn’t say it was an awakening, because you’ve been aware of everything the whole time and you actually didn’t sleep at all. It seems like sleeping was for the body, but the mind was always awake, you just weren’t conscious of it.

Being “awake” for days wasn’t as tiring as it sounds, but it was a nightmare because it meant that you were aware of everything. You heard the birds outside your window, you felt the sun on your face, you heard people outside the house. The world kept moving without you. 

But the worst part was hearing Agatha breaking.

You heard all the words she said to you, all her fears, her guilty. You heard the promises she made, the desperation in her voice. You felt how scared of even touching you she was, thinking she would hurt you even more. But hearing her cry until she fell asleep, everynight, too broken and hating herself, god, it was too much. She cried like she never ever cried before, prayed for what she never prayed for. She struggled with heartache and fear. 

Agatha didn’t know, but you made promises to her too.

You promised to be more careful, you promised to always listen to her warnings, to be more patient and wait for her to finish her magic stuff. To always knock on the basement door and wait for her to tell you to come in. But above all, you promised to tell her how much you loved her, to hold her in your arms and do everything you could to make her feel better. You just wanted to erase her pain and guilt.

So, when you finally got your voice back, the first thing you did was calling her name. The syllables felt so good on your tongue. The rest of your body wasn’t awake yet, you couldn’t even open your eyes, but you didn’t mind. You called her, knowing she was always near you, so she would hear you, she had to.

“Aggie” you whispered again, and not even a second later, you heard her footsteps in the hall. She opened the door quickly and almost threw herself to the bed, taking you in her arms.

“Y/N?” she asked softly, staring at you carefully. Her heart stopped when she saw a small smile on your lips. You were awake. You really were awake.

“Hiya, SugarPlum” you said softly, slowly opening your eyes. There was no way in the world you would miss the smile you knew that was blooming on her beautiful face. 

Agatha sobbed a little and smiled at the pet name, while you finally, finally, opened your eyes. 

“Y/N” she whispered, praying this wasn’t another of her dreams.

“Shh, it’s me, I’m here” you assured her, slowly lifting your hand and caressing her cheek. 

The contact was all she needed to finally let herself go. She cried again, but this time, it was full of happiness. She hugged you tightly and kissed you. You happily kissed her back, happy that your body decided to fully wake up at that moment. Without missing a second, you pulled her over you. Agatha giggled a little, but the tears were still rolling down her cheeks. 

You wiped them before you kissed her again. God, how much you missed kissing her. It was different from when she traveled, because this time you were right there, but you couldn’t do anything. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered, hiding her face on your neck “I’m so so sorry”

“Shhh, it’s ok love. It wasn’t your fault” you said, rubbing her back.

“It was. I shouldn’t have-” she started but you have heard it enough when you were trapped.

“leave me behind. Or pushed me. Or taking me granted. Or should have listened to me and spent the day with me” you said, having memorized all her regrets.

Agatha looked at you, confused. You chuckled and caressed her face again. 

“I heard it” you confessed “i heard it all, Atha” 

“You could hear me” she whispered, but it wasn’t a question. You nodded and saw how her face changed between confuseness, happiness and shame. You heard everything?

You giggled, making her look at you again.

“Everything, my love” you said and kissed her again “but let me tell you something. You don’t have to stop using your magic around me. You don’t have to give up who you are for me. I love you, all of you”

“But i- i wasn’t fair to you, i left you and-”

“You didn’t. Everyday I get to be by your side, proves to me how much you love me. Dear, I waited all my life to meet you. Some hours, days, months, doesn’t matter. Because I know you will always come back to me.” 

Agatha was speechless, so she did the only thing she could. She kissed you agains, with all the love she had for you. 

__________

The next day, you two sat in your garden, eating the cake you made, both of you covered in flour from the little war you had in the kitchen. You kissed her cheek and she wrapped an arm around you. 

“I’m sorry i didn’t get you a proper gift” she said and you pressed a finger on her lips. 

“Nope, no more apologies. You promised” you said and she smiled, kissing your finger. “Besides, i don’t know about you, but i think not dying was a pretty good birthday present” 

“Don’t even joke about it” she warned you and you giggled “I’m serious, Y/N” 

“hmmm, add ‘Harkness’ to the last word and you have a deal” you winked and laughed when she blushed. 

You really loved your witch.

[weltenwxndler-archive]

he looked at him with such clear azure eyes, such a soft expression. he looked just like dan feng, from head to toe, those horns and that tail, but he never acted like dan feng. he was a different entity, albeit not different memories, but blade never questioned the cycle of life for the vidyadhara. it was not ever ending, it was all that he despised but when a hundred---thousand?---arrows ran through him and he was unscathed (even though that pain broke him apart) blade had to embrace it. his life was also not gonna end. elio promised, but his script showed no signs. this was not part of elio's script either, he was here because the opportunity arrived... and blade had taken it.

now this being promised to be with him, until the end of time. forever. it almost didn't seem that bad.

"are you sure? i know your job in penacony is over. did you enjoy it, dan heng?" though his eyes and hair had changed, though he couldn't follow his hobbies anymore, though he had sworn to be nothing but a blade he couldn't fight these feelings blooming inside of him.

it was so strong, overwhelming, made him gently squeeze the other male's hand. still, this was dan heng. he needed to embrace this fact.

"i am..." blade thought about his words for a long moment. "i am... glad. to be with you, i-i mean." a small chuckle fell from the warrior's lips, pulling the dragon very slowly into his embrace. hmm. he smelled of bath bubbles, fruity, slightly vanilla?

did he grab the wrong sort of soap?

@weltenwxndler || c.

Part of him, deep down, knew just how dangerous it truly was for him to get close, to try and cling to to feelings that never wanted to leave him ... But there was no escaping it. Dan Heng had come to terms with it, at least that was what he told himself.

Though the Vidyadhara was hesitant at first he slowly moved from where he had been half hidden, tail wagging faster as the distance between them was closed - even reaching out to slip a hand into Blade's as he came within reach.

" ... You know ... The express won't be leaving here for a while ... " Dan Heng murmured quietly, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek against the other's arm. " It's been too long since last we were able to really spend time together , just us ... "

[aitaikimochi]

BNHA Team Up Mission Spin-Off Manga Chapter 9 Summary Translation

The Boku No Hero Academia TEAM UP MISSION manga Chapter 9 follows Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima as they team up with Shiketsu's Camie to act in a stage play at a theme park. The chapter is really hilarious and lighthearted. 

The title of the chapter is “That’s Totally Overdoing the Illusion!”

Here's the entire chapter summary! Enjoy~

Boku No Hero Academia TEAM UP MISSION

By Akiyama Youkou

Chapter 9 That’s Totally Overdoing the Illusion!

The chapter starts off with Bakugou, Kirishima, and Todoroki on a Team Up Mission at a theme park called “Future World.” They arrive at the theme park and Kirishima says the theme park is amazing. Todoroki notes that it’s really big, and Bakugou says, “Whatever, it’s just for kids.” They then are approached by Camie, who says, “Omg no way! U.A. is like, here too??”

Camie says “I’m like so totally excited to be meeting up with some hotties again, like woah!”

Bakugou says he has no idea what the hell Camie is saying, and Kirishima exclaims, “Oh! It’s a Shiketsu student from the Provisional Hero License Exam!” Kirishima proceeds to introduce himself in his intense manner, and Camie says that he kinda acts like Inasa.

It turns out that the Team Up Mission requires U.A. Academy to team up with Shiketsu at the amusement park to assist the staff with something. They meet up with the CEO of the park to figure out what exactly he needs help on. The CEO is a tiny man with a large mustache dressed up like a jester.

The CEO asks them to follow him to another side of the park, called Retro Land. This theme park is a run-down and old looking traditional theme park with barely any customers. The CEO of the theme park says that he brought them here to take part in a stage play to attract more customers.

He hands them a script, which is about a town being attacked by villains. The heroes show up and fight the villains, and the heroes end up in a pinch. However, with the help of the citizens cheering them on, the heroes are able to restore peace back to the city.

Kirishima hears the outline of the play and gets excited, saying it’s such an awesome mainstream story. Bakugou scoffs and says, “but it’s damn basic.” Kirishima then says, “Nah, I like it!”

The students then go into a rehearsal of the scene where the heroes are in a pinch. One of the professional actresses, a Dog Lady wearing a skull choker, low v-neck vest, studded belt, and long pants, says, “Oh you guys are actually heroes? Then you probably haven’t acted before?”

Kirishima then tries to do his best acting, saying “Gahh…I’m…strong….guhhh I won’t…fall down…I’ll never turn my back…because I….I….!!!” and overdoes his acting.

Camie then says “Like holy crap the Villain blindsided me, and now I’m on the floor like discarded bubble tea!”

Todoroki just falls onto the floor silently. Bakugou tries acting, screaming “I WILL NEVER FALL TO THE LIKES OF A VILLAIN!” The Dog Lady actress asks them if they were actually even trying to act, and they all say they were doing their best. The Dog Lady says she’s a bit worried about how this will go.

In either case, they need to decide which role everyone will be taking part. The Dog Lady instructs them to decide among themselves who will get what role.

Bakugou and Camie both say at the same time they want to be the lead Hero role. Camie says, “Wait, but I’m older than you so I totally should be the lead Hero role!” Bakugou gets mad and screams, “BUT I AM THE STRONGEST ONE HERE. BESIDES, I AM Q.E.D.!**”

Camie says “Damn yo, that’s the lowest of the low” and Bakugou yells, “Shut the hell up and speak your mother tongue, damnit!”

Kirishima tries to calm him saying, “Calm down guys, Camie-senpai too…!” He then notices that Todoroki is looking at a child’s playground bear spring rider, and Kirishima asks, “Oh, do you want to ride it? The staff did say we could enjoy the park as much as we’d like!” Kirishima mentions that they never really had a chance to go to a theme park ever since entering High School, and being at a theme park feels nostalgic as it brings back memories of his childhoold.

Todoroki then says, “No…I don’t have any memories of ever going to a theme park.”

Camie looks at Todoroki and says, “Uh, like no way?”

Kirishima then grabs Todoroki and says, “WELL IF THAT’S THE CASE…JUST PRACTICING OUR LINES WILL GET STALE, SO LET’S ENJOY THE THEME PARK!” and rides the bear spring rider together with Todoroki.

Camie wants to join them too, and she, Kirishima, and Todoroki go on a carousel while Bakugou gets irritated. Camie is taking a picture for Kirishima and Todoroki on her cellphone while Kirishima calls out to Bakugou saying, “Heeyyy! Bakugou, come join us!”

Bakugou scoffs, “Hmph, waste of time.”

Kirishima, Todoroki, and Camie then ride a roller coaster together and Kirishima shouts, “It’s fun you know!”

Bakugou says, “This is no time to be playing with these stupid toys…!”

Kirishima then grins and says to Bakugou “All right then, if that’s the case, let’s decide who gets the lead Hero hero role by seeing who can get the least dizzy from the tea cup ride!” This piques Bakugou’s interest, and Kirishima further taunts him saying, “If you’re not confident about it, then you don’t gotta force yourself!”

This gets Bakugou fired up and he says, “I’m going to spin this shit and kill all of you guys!!!!!!!” He sits in the tea cup next to Kirishima, Camie, and Todoroki and spins it like crazy. Camie looks like she’s going to throw up and says, “Wait…Bakugou…you’re like, turning it way too fast!”

Bakugou looks at Kirishima and taunts, “HOW IS IT!? YOU DON’T LOOK SO GOOD. GONNA GIVE UP YET!?” and Kirishima yells back, “YOU MUST BE JOKING! NOT EVEN CLOSE! TURN IT UP!!”

Bakugou then screams, “PLUS ULTRAAAAAA!!!” as he spins the cup so fast it looks as if they are not moving at all. Camie squeaks “Helllaaaaaaa…”

After they get off the ride, Bakugou, Kirishima, and Camie are wobbling around and walking unevenly, with Kirishima accidentally heading towards the direction of the girl’s bathroom in his dizzy state and Camie about to throw up on the floor. Bakugou sways and proudly points at no one, saying “You bastard, you’re all dizzy!”

Kirishima says, “Guh…did…didja see that, Bakug….erghh!” Camie says she’s going to hurl. Todoroki asks, “Uh, where are you guys even going?”

Kirishima then notices that Todoroki is completely unphased, and he asks “Todoroki…you’re okay!?” Todoroki responds, “I feel a bit uneasy…”

With that, it’s decided that Todoroki gets the lead Hero role. They then head back to the stage, and there’s a few people in the audience already as well as two camera men who will be filming this performance and uploading it online later.

All the students are ready for their performance, and as they act out the first scene, a group of people corner the CEO and threaten him. The group are land developers who tell the CEO to give up Retro Land since it’s going out of business anyway. He grabs the CEO in a chokehold, but the CEO says he won’t hand over the park to these people.

As this is happening, Camie, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima go backstage after their first act. Camie says they can take a short break until the next scene. Kirishima remarks that the camera was focused a lot on him, but Bakugou says he’s pretty damn sure he was the one getting more spotlight.

As they walk backstage, they see the group of people threatening the CEO. Kirishima, Todoroki, and Bakugou easily take out these villains, but the villain tells the CEO that they had planted a trap at the roller coaster in Retro Land where a part of the roller coaster tracks were destroyed. The ride operators did not know this, and there’s currently a cart that will be falling off the roller coaster tracks soon. The villain mentions that no one would want to go to a theme park after hearing of such a bad accident. Kirishima realizes this and rushes first to the roller coaster ride.

Meanwhile, Camie is wondering what to do because their break is over, and they’re due to be on stage again. Since the boys are dealing with the villains, she decides to create illusions of all of them and wing the performance off script with her illusion versions of Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima.

She recreates the pretty boy Todoroki illusion, who turns to the Dog Lady, who’s playing the role of the villain, and says, “Won’t you…please stop being a villain? You should become a Hero instead!” and the Dog Lady blushes and immediately falls for it, saying “YES…!”

Since Camie can’t access the script right now, she just decides to ad lib everything and make up a new story. She makes the Illusion Kirishima turn out to be the actual villain of the story, and the camera men who are in the audience wonder what happened to the original script.

On the other side of the park, Kirishima is already on top of the roller coaster tracks and uses his hardening to stop the oncoming roller coaster cart. He tries to stop it but the cart still keeps going.

Bakugou then comes behind him and steps on his back, and Kirishima looks back and says “Bakugou!”

The guy on the front seat of the ride screams “Why are there two people [on the tracks]!?”

Bakugou says that there’s not enough manpower to stop the roller coaster. He places one hand on Kirishima’s back to support him while using his other hand to set off a huge explosion, propelling them forward to nullify the movement of the roller coaster cart.

Back at the stage, Camie is doing her best trying to improv the play. Her Illusion Villain Kirishima gloats that he will fulfill his revenge. The Illusion Todoroki cries out, “No! Please stop this fight!” while a very quiet and calm looking Bakugou places his hand on Illusion Todoroki’s shoulder.

The real Bakugou and Kirishima are still trying to stop the roller coaster cart from going further, and Kirishima hugs the front of the roller coaster as Bakugou continues to use his explosion to stop the cart. They finally successfully stop the coaster, and Kirishima falls back in relief, showing a dent in the front of the roller coaster cart in the shape of his body.

Just as they saved the roller coaster cart, Camie was finished with the play as well. The two camera men who were filming the play were so moved they started crying at how good the play was. One of the camera men mentions that he wants to bring this Hero Stage play around the entire country because it was so moving.

The resolution scene shows the Illusion Villain Kirishima shaking hands with the Illusion Quiet Bakugou with the closing line, “And with that, the hero that looked the most like a Villain was able to open the actual Villain’s heart and let him turn a new leaf.”

The crowd cheers as Illusion Bakugou and Illusion Villain Kirishima continue to shake hands.

At the roller coaster, Todoroki assists the people in the roller coaster cart off the tracks by using his ice to create an emergency ladder. Kirishima then smiles at Camie and says, “Good work Camie-senpai! You did it!” Camie looks like she’s going to hurl again since she overused her quirk, saying “I feel hella sick…I like, overdid the illusions…hella…”

With that, the four students finish their training at the amusement park together. Later that week, the Retro Land Stage Play was uploaded onto a video streaming site, and the video got 1,200 likes and counting. The show was a hit online, and because of that, Retro Land’s popularity bounced back and more people started going to the theme park.

However, because of the stage play, Kirishima, Bakugou, and Todoroki also gained some new fans.

The last scene shows the two camera men hiding in the bushes with cameras while Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima are walking.

Kirishima ask them, “Hey uh…do you guys get the feeling we’re being watched…?”

THE END!

[livexdolan]

A/n: Tumblr accidentally posted this when I went to save it. In conclusion: I hate Tumblr. Here’s your concept boo sorry about the confusion :))

“Honey, I’m home!” You call out into the house, jokingly.

Shutting the door behind you, you immediately hear the loud sounds of people in the den. Smiling, you set your bag on the table and walk to the open doorway. Grayson, Ethan, Kris, and Larri are all sprawled on the couch, playing the game you recognize as Call of Duty. Grayson’s sitting at the edge of his cushion, obviously too into the game to realize you are watching him. Larri and Ethan are not as into the game and when Kris smiles at you from her spot next to Ethan and says, “Y/n! You made it!” The two give you a smile.

“Larri! You’re supposed to be covering my 2! Bro!” Grayson groans and you laugh, finally catching his attention. Grayson glances over to the doorway, his ears perking up under his headset at the sound of your giggle. You look like an angel to him, leaning against the doorway in jean shorts and a cropped tank top. The light from the windows and lights outlining your body beautifully.

Of course, you’re just his friend, so he can’t tell you that but he wants to. Meeting Grayson and Ethan through Kristina, you never expected to fall for the younger, loud, and boisterous twin, and yet, here you are, “Y/n! Hey,” Grayson tries to sound casual but you smile at the pitch in his voice.

You know Grayson likes you, it’s pretty obvious. At first, you found it sweet and kind of funny but now that you like him back- every time you’re around him you blush more and laugh more and it’s just- more. All of your friends know you like each other but you can’t help but feel slightly insecure- being two years older than Grayson is not your ideal scenario. You’re also nowhere near as skinny or toned as the other girls Grayson has dated. Being 5’8 and a little bit curvier than most girls in LA- you’re used to being kind of- pushed aside.

However, when you’re with Grayson, you feel like you can take on the world. You're forceful front, with Grayson by your side, you are unstoppable. Grayson, Kristina, and Ethan were the reason you finally went for your dream of opening your own small business online. Grayson even stayed up with you way too late many nights helping with your website, buying products in bulk and getting the best prices, even making you cup after cup of coffee so you wouldn’t fall asleep. Some nights, he would even carry you to his room, tucking you into the warm comforter after he found you passed out at the island counter.

A few months later, you had gained thousands of followers, were working on multiple collabs with different influencers (including Wakeheart), and being able to afford to rent your own apartment, getting out of your three-bedroom apartment with four other people. You owed everything to the twins and your best friend.

“Come sit next to me, yeah?” Grayson’s voice broke you from your memories and you nod, going to sit next to him on the floral couch, “You know how to play?” You shake your head, looking up at him, biting your lip.

“No, I was never really interested in video games,” You reply and he smiles, knowing you're more of a go skateboarding and surfing kind of girl.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m gonna teach you how to play,” He smirks down at you, the butterflies in your stomach wake up, swarming around your belly.

“Grayson! With your rat-ass lookin’ self! We’re losing lover boy!” Larri’s shriek pulls the two of you out of your little staring contest and you both blush.

“Sorry, sorry,” Grayson mumbles, moving his fingers nimbly on the controller, “Come here, Y/n//n, sit between my legs so I can show you what I’m doing,” He doesn’t even look back at you from the screen.

You’re sure your entire face is the color of a tomato as he lifts his arms up, saying something to Ethan about checking out a house for weapons. You hesitantly slide between his legs, his legs widen further so you nestled against him. Bringing his arms back down, they’re now wrapped around you, the controller almost sitting in your lap. Your heart is racing so fast you can barely breathe, all you can see hear, feel, is Grayson. His warmth, his scent, his arms around you, his thighs on either side of yours, his breath behind your ear, and his chest pressed against your back.

He leans into you slightly, making you sit up straighter, “Relax,” his voice whispers into your ear, causing goosebumps and a chill down your spine.

Your body follows his command without you even realizing it, and you’re now pressed fully against him. You can feel his heart beating steadily against you and it bothers you that he can be so calm at this moment. He grabs your hands and shows you how to hold the controller, showing you what each button and knob does as the two of you watch the screen. It takes you a while to understand, seeing as you’re more interested in the feel of being cuddled up to him, but slowly-but-surely, you get it. By the time you start to really get into it, Larri has already left, and Ethan and Kris called it a night, leaving the two of you alone.

To your dismay, Grayson pulls his hands away, but your disappointment is replaced with a rush of blood going through you, as his hands land on your hips and squeeze slightly, “Try it on your own. You’re doing great,” he says, encouragingly.

Knowing he wouldn’t let you do it on your own if he didn’t truly believe you could you straighten up a little, cracking your knuckles before grabbing the controller. Grayson’s chuckle rumbles against your back. You elbow him jokingly, "Shut up."

You end up getting killed in about 20 minutes- but they were the most exciting 20 minutes of your life. You weren't even upset about losing, instead, turning to cheer with Grayson you give him a wide smile. His heart skips a beat, "Did you see that? I got not one-" you hold up your index finger, "not two," you put up your middle finger, "but three!" your ring finger goes up next, "Three headshots! I am amazing! Woo!" Grayson laughs, his whole body vibrating with excitement from your excitement.

That's when you both realize how close you are to each other. Your smiles falter slightly as the adrenaline rush you're on starts to fade. You notice the circles under his eye and can't help but feel bad about keeping him past his bedtime. Before you know what you're doing, you reach a hand up, brushing off an eyelash on his cheek. Grayson watches you carefully, praying to whoever's listening that he doesn't do anything stupid like sneeze or burp. You smile at him and his heart melts at the way your face glowing in the dim lights.

"Hey, Gray?" You whisper, afraid if you talk any louder you will burst the bubble that surrounds the two of you.

He smiles cutely, "Hey y/n/n?"

"I really like playing video games."

Grayson stares at you for a second, before bursting with laughter. You pull back, eyebrows high on your face, "What? What's so funny?" You pout, thinking he's laughing at you.

He sobers at the look on your face and sighs, "You're too cute. oh my God, I thought you were going to say something super serious. Jesus." He tucks a hair behind your ear, the grin never leaving his face.

Before you can say anything, your phone goes off. You scramble off him to get the phone. Your friend's name flashes on the screen and you text her that you'll call her later. You see how late it is and turn back to Grayson with a guilty look, "It's a lot later than I realized."

Grayson tries (and fails) to cover how disappointed he was, "Oh. You need to get home?"

"No, I was actually gonna ask if I could stay the night?" His heart stops for a moment, thinking you meant to stay with him but you, painfully, fix your mistake, "I mean like- in the guest bedroom, obviously," you laugh nervously and he does too.

The two of you part quickly after that, going to your respective bedrooms to calm down. As Grayson stares at the ceiling above his bed, he swears that tomorrow he's going to do everything in his power to get you in his bed.

A/n: I really went off-script with this- I'm sorry. I'd love to do a little continuation of the next day but I felt this was way too long. Sorry about all the technical issues too :)

[fandomdaydreamer]

The Lighthouse and The Ocean

Pt 15

-Distortion

Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC

Warnings: The warnings for chapter 14 apply but times ten.

Summary: Ultimately, none of the fighting matters anymore when Pedro comforts Nini through her panic attack. She collides with her past and then she tells him everything.

Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist -here-

I'm not a psychologist oder medical expert but I tried to be as accurate as possible regarding panic attacks. Anyway, here's a PTSD mental help hotline

Length: 9.8k

~

-Distortion

I wished I could say I had simply stopped being me and had traded body and mind with the character I portrayed but under these circumstances, my normal acting method wasn't effective enough.

I just hoped I could later blame the tears in my eyes on the water when the chemical stench threatened to tear down my walls. My act slipped for a second and a small hiccup escaped my lips but I was determined to finish this scene, even if it was the last thing I'd do.

The camera followed as Pedro stepped closer with his character's rosemary dangling from one hand and I acted surprised after I had finally noticed his presence. Just like it was written in the script, he silently waited for me to digest his intense stare and resume my activity.

He, the archangel Raguel, wouldn't speak up first. He just stared at this sinner with the smouldering ambers of his French cigarette pinched loosely between his fingers, smoking up his sleeve. Broodiness suited him.

I didn't know how convincingly I could sweeten my smile and suppress a peel of laughter. "Tell me, as a religious man, do you believe in life after death? I can't say I believe in hell but I like the sound of heaven." I attempted to start a conversation but he only gave me a slight tilt of his head as he watched me glide through the water.

He turned and finished his cigarette in continuing silence, dropping the bud into the greens carelessly afterwards. It was easy to yearn for the dark cowboy's attention but I let my body drift into the middle of the pool. Opening my eyes to the camera, I imagined I was watching myself float in the reflection of the blotched silver mirrors on the ceiling instead of staring up at a green screen.

Maybe it had an interesting, strange effect once I looked at him and worked out a subtle transformation from this guarded persona into a girl who just sought an escape from reality. "The water is nice. You could at least try to relax a little, you know?" I said in my American accent but it sounded wooden, too cold.

"I am." Raguel dismissed me, yet once again. He either preferred to kill us all with the daggers in his eyes or give soft two- or three-word replies if absolutely necessary.

I gulped unprofessionally before I recited my line. "Oh, allow me to indulge a little in this fantasy? I plan to avoid this so-called 'real world' as long as possible." The smile on my lips shook. I knew I was speaking too fast.

Only Starling would know he was the tiniest bit amused. "Real world?" He knew it wasn't.

"It only wakes bad memories." "Which are you referring to?" He asked with a hint of curiosity, voice controlled to Pedro's usual peak of perfection. It made me blink from his perfectly polished shoes and bizarre gothic socks up to his face.

"Old wounds you're going to tell me will heal with time?" I suggested with reptilian danger in my gaze as I swam closer, trying not to break character as I realised how well this scene reflected my current situation.

I had reached the edge when he spoke next. "They don't, not always. Time all but means nothing for emotional beings." He talked down at me like he planned to both protect and choke the most fragile part of my soul. I pouted, resting my cheek on my folded hands as I looked up at him. Holding his gaze and feeling the sting of chlorine in my eyes felt like I was staring directly into the sun.

Starling thought about his reply for a moment, not understanding the meaning of the place they resided in, nor his real identity. "Yes, it feels that way, doesn't it?" I stopped with the play of my fingers on stone and made eye contact again. "But you act like you're not. You think you're good at hiding." I tilted my chin at his blood-red rosemary and gave him the cold shoulder, face falling and revealing the act behind Starling's façade. "Nah. I see you." I added after I had let go of the pool's edge.

Raguel stayed silent as he followed me alongside the pool. He was so beautiful with his edge and charm, building a mystery to us mere mortals with those eyes always in search of things that didn't bleed dry his goodness or test his patience.

The character I portrayed wasn't trying to fool him anymore. Like the Machiavellian girl she was, she had succeeded to blind the others. Their trust was an easy thing to win because she knew how to coat her lies in sugar and use her body as a weapon. Starling's supposed sweetness was her way of survival and could convince everyone in her path to divert from their earnest ways, even if they had had good intentions. Her smile was so innocent, the priest had bought it, much like a noble Othello was deceived by the villain's ordinary earthly possession of a handkerchief. Raguel however, wasn't a fool.

He looked at me, silently, as he crouched down by the pool and dipped his fingers into the water, swirling them around. The angel flexed his jaw and took his time before he found any words or finally looked at me.

What I saw was a face free of Pedro's hurt or anger. He licked his lips, using his bedroom voice as he drank the sight of me in. "Would you say you're a person easily ruled by emotions?" He asked, following a personal curious impulse and I raised one quizzical eyebrow. He had sounded strangely tender at that moment like he actually cared for my opinion.

Acting had worked as a distraction up until now but I couldn't remember my line, not when he was looking at me like that. My muscles kept twitching out of control but I clenched my teeth and ignored the emotional struggle. I smirked when I rose myself up on the pool's edge and came so close to his face, he had to lean back a little. The extra pause didn't confuse Pedro but luckily, I found the right words again. "I'm human, am I?" I evaded an answer with a smile on my lips and tried my best to push myself through this scene.

For the first time in the entire movie, Raguel smiled. It wasn't a big smile by all means, but just enough to display the effect she had on him. It broke my heart because, at that moment, I wasn't Starling. I was the girl Pedro had to pretend to smile at. It was so easy for him to forget me behind the character. My bottom lip started to tremble and I couldn't stop myself from blinking away the hot burn of tears. "Would you mind getting me a tow-"

"CUT!" Jim shouted and the cameras pointed away from us with a mechanical whirr. Pedro's smile was immediately replaced by a frown. He opened his mouth but I immersed myself into the water and escaped before he could say anything. When I came up again for some much-needed air, he was gone.

It didn't work. Take after take, we took it from the top and I messed them all up. After the next take and the next, I still refused to listen to Pedro and just stop. Jim's usually composed nerves lay bare as well.

"This isn't right. It still feels off." I felt myself shrink as I watched Jim take quick steps towards me. He glinted down at me and then back at Pedro, who wore a sour expression. "Really?" He sighed. "At least set your private issues aside while you're at work? I'll gladly call for a couple-counsellor if it'll mean you two will get your heads out of your asses." His slow and deep voice had increased his volume towards the end as if we couldn't hear him.

Pedro cleared his throat and we shrugged our shoulders at the same time without answering.

Jim crouched down next to the pool. "What is going on, hm?" He addressed me specifically, a little less harsh but still frustrated and I cowered until my nose touched the water. Guilt ate me up because I had been responsible for every single failed take today. I tried to answer but apparently, it had been a rhetorical question because Jim started talking over me as soon as I opened my mouth. "You're constantly distracted, even worse than usual. I don't think I have to tell you how to keep your personal problems out of your job." He continued and even interrupted Pedro when he strolled back over.

"Jim-" he began but he wasn't allowed to throw in a word either.

"Please." Jim continued drily. "No, this is not the performance you'd expect from a professional actress who gets paid 'very' well to appear in only half the movie." He made a 'ras de bole' gesture to express that he was too fed up for words. "Or maybe you want to quit for today?" He suggested, tone unnecessarily sugared. My eyes had already welled up with tears during his rant but he was waiting for my answer with raised eyebrows. His words left me no choice. I had to try harder.

My throat started to close up and pain spasmed in my chest while I struggled to see him as the idol he had always been to me, not a scary parental figure. "I'm sorry, I'll try better," I replied weakly, glad I had been able to produce any sound at all. Jim ran his hand over his lawless white hair with an exasperated sigh and I could barely hold back a sob. "Just get it done and we can get out of here, okay? Have a little break." He added in a softer tone.

My arms were almost too weak to assist me out of the pool. I had to sit there for a while, dripping with water but the smell clinging to my skin had become unbearable. I felt helpless and my world threatened to collapse. Once again, men who were a big part of my life were angry with me and I would end up disappointing everyone, I'd let them down, I'd ruin the entire movie.

"I'm sorry you had to listen to that." Pedro's voice was gentle when he spoke next to me but I couldn't look at him. "Nini, something 'is' wrong, please talk to me." I jumped when he touched my arm but pulled back after I had let out an involuntarily sound of distress. I quickly got up and brought some distance between us, ignoring Pedro's deeply concerned expression. "It's-" I tried to say something but my voice cut off and I leaned my hands down onto my knees as I grew dizzy. I started to recognise the symptoms of a growing anxiety attack, my scattered thoughts and amplified sounds. Jim had yelled at me; the man had lashed out and I just couldn't take it. "No, this isn't good, oh nonono, I can't..." I could feel the rise of something much darker and more threatening building in my chest and damn, this was stronger than anxiety.

"Shit, you've gone all pale." Pedro set his Stetson aside and stepped closer but I could only stop him with a raised hand before I watched him freeze and close his mouth. It didn't feel right. I didn't mean to push him away like that but it was an instinct, because he was taller, broader and stronger than me, because he could hurt me if he wanted to. I knew he only wanted to help and I couldn't articulate my need to get away somehow. My hands were shaking so much, I had to close them into fists.

"Hey- hey, hey, what's going on?" He asked, panic straining his voice.

My exhale ran so deep it hurt my empty stomach. I failed to remember how to fill my lungs with air. "Can't... breathe." I swatted at my chest and into the air uselessly and lost the ability to rationalise. My voice had given up, just like it used to many years before. I couldn't understand what he told me either and any soothing words would do nothing for me. It was too late, the adult me was completely gone and I clawed at my heaving chest in fear, fighting against a pair of hands in my growing panic.

Shortness of breath set in as my muscles tensed and dizziness dimmed all surrounding light sources. A flood of buried emotions narrowed my world into a sickeningly claustrophobic tunnel vision.

Jim was disappointed, Pedro was angry with me, my dad used to be both all the time. Punishment had been the immediate and unavoidable consequence, it was what had always followed. My bracelet wasn't here, no mother to protect me.

Old memories blinked through my mind when I imagined I could hear the echoes of my father's yelling and his child's crying. I didn't see the flashbacks coming until my shoulder knocked into the tile walls I knew from my childhood home. They hadn't been so familiar before. I closed my eyes and my teeth snapped shut at the impact of my back against the cold wall. The collision finally triggered the hyperventilation and I was guided down safely before my knees threatened to give out. I sank lower, lower against the wall.

"Someone call an ambulance!" He yelled at people around us but I breathed out weak noises of protest, not knowing if I meant to stop anyone fussing over me or fight against the image of my father's face intruding my vision. I could hear my name being called through the thrumming of my heartbeat. The hollow noises gave the illusion of being underwater again but this time, I was drowning until a hand lift my chin.

Brown, very scared eyes. Pedro was beside me the moment I started crying bitterly. Mama had brown, scared eyes. So many images filled the previous gaps in my memories and it hurt, it hurt so much. The smell... the smell rewind time and transported me right back into our house. A high pitched sound rang through my ears, higher than the aggrieved wail pushing past my throat.

I nearly lost my balance when I tried to stand up and I slipped against the flat surface. Large hands attacked my upper arms before I could fall and I reacted like a threatened, wild animal. The briefest of all touches from the tall man caused me to twitch and slap Pedro's hands off my arms. "Ophouen!" I yelled and it echoed through the atrium, louder than any other sound. I didn't know if it was shock or genuine fear he projected on his face and I tried to reach the ability to comprehend anything beyond my panic. Stop, stop it, stop it! This was Pedro, my Pedro, who repeated my name softly like a prayer, at least I thought he was.

I couldn't block the sensations when I pressed the palms of my hands on both ears. The chlorine burned through my lungs into my subconscious.

Tears ran freely down my face until I couldn't take it anymore and I stumbled onto my feet in a rush of adrenaline. I fled from all those people who were only looking at me like I had lost my mind. At least it felt like I had.

Everything became too much when my racing heart started to hurt and the corridor seemed to spin and tilt like a ship that struggled against high waves.

I didn't even know where I was heading, I just knew I needed to hide and deal with my panic somewhere nobody could see or judge me. When I blindly ran my hand across the wall, a door to my right gave away, just in time before anyone could follow me. I disappeared into an empty room and slammed the door like an evil monster was after me. The barrier had a lock on the other side and I turned it with shaking hands before I stumbled back into the room, leaned over and dry heaved the void in my stomach. With a muted cry, I sank to my knees and crumbled to the floor as its violence tore through my chest and ripped through my throat without sound.

Yet more memories awaited me when I hid my face into my cold, naked arms, body shrinking under the neon light that hadn't been there before. Dark, light, dark, light.

Why did I lock myself in? The confinement of this empty and stale room only made the memories intruding my head worse. Red rimmed images grew distorted from reality, sized themselves larger as they loomed above my frame.

The door at the opposite side shook and I rocked back and forth, hugging my arms around my knees and digging my nails into my wrist, not feeling any pain. I can't breathe, I kept thinking. I can't see, I can't move, don't know how to help myself, never thought I'd be back in this situation. I shouldn't be here, my bracelet isn't with me. The thoughts spiralled around my head and I didn't even know if they had any meaning. I knew nothing except that my mum wasn't here anymore. I wanted my mum, I wanted my grandparents, Tom, my cat. My family, my Pedro.

I huddled together with my younger self, praying for no harm as the banging at the door signalled a threat.

"Leonie, open the door, what are you doing?" People outside were rattling at the door handle and tried to unlock it. "Does anyone have a key to this room? Is there someone who can call a locksmith?" "It is a locker room, there is no key but I can pick a standard lo-"

"Nobody's picking any locks! Get the fuck away from the door, right now, all of you! Step away! She needs space, give her some space." I gasped in painful yearning when I recognised Pedro's voice. I had never heard him this angry before but it was clearly not directed at me. It allowed me the first clear inhale of oxygen in minutes and a wounded yelp parted from my lips. I needed him.

For aeons, no noise reached me. Only my sobbing and relentless cries echoed off the naked walls while I clawed at my skin. They must have left, I was alone, so alone. I buried my face in my hands and felt the tears spill through my fingers, burning my skin. My nose was clogged and a throbbing headache transpired behind my eyes. I couldn't stop twisting and scratching at my wrist in the absence of my bracelet.

After a while, I could hear the softest of all sounds ringing through the door. Pedro produced my name with a heartbreakingly, worried pitch. I couldn't answer, couldn't breathe. My entire body shook as my muscles spasmed on their own. "Can you hear me?" He asked somewhere behind the barrier between us and he repeated the question after a minute, then asked again after a while as I tried to regain the ability to contemplate my actions. It took several minutes and an infinite amount of bravery to answer Pedro after the millionth time he had asked me if I was there. "Yes." I finally gasped out between rippled draws of breaths. The next question followed suit. "Are you hurt?" I gulped wetly, unable to answer because everything hurt.

"Okay, listen. I know you're scared but it's gonna be alright, okay? I'm here to help. Can you open the door for me, can you do that?"

I almost feared he had disappeared when I couldn't think of an answer.

"It's just me, just us, no one else," Pedro mentioned carefully. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Please let me in, baby. Please?" New streams of tears flowed down my cheeks and leaned my head back against the wall at Pedro still calling me that.

My limbs were numb but I somehow managed to crawl across the floor, reach up and turn the lock before I dropped my body next to the door again like I had been mortally wounded in battle.

"Good, alright, I will come in now," Pedro said before a creek opened and a beam of light hit the floor. It darkened in his shadow and the artificial beam faded entirely when he closed the door behind him.

This was how he found me, huddled in a corner, hugging my knees and sobbing into my arms to hide from the world.

"Hey, little songbird." He said somewhere next to me and I wanted him to both swallow me up in his arms and leave me the fuck alone. I was ashamed and my skin felt violated by the phantom intrusion of sharp and painful needles.

Pedro hushed me and something soft and warm surrounded a body that felt too naked, frail and vulnerable. I had become so shrunken and insecure, a little fragile girl, barely ten years old who shook with fright.

Pedro seemed to try to make himself appear as small as possible. "I brought your bracelet." At that, I peeked above my arms to see his broad hand holding out the wooden beads and my heart wept at the sight. When I reached out, I saw red streaks smearing my naked wrist. He swore under his breath when he saw the harm I had unconsciously inflicted on myself but he soon tried to soothe me with both nonsense and gentle words while I held my bracelet and sobbed into it, relieved to have it back. Okay, this was better. It anchored me a little, reminded me that there were years between then and now. "Pedro." I yelped out his name and lifted my head a little.

"Yes, yes, it's me, I'm here. Or if you don't want me here, we have medics waiting outside. We have to get you to the ER." He said but I shook my head violently and gripped his knee as a new wave of sobs pushed through. "Okay, we've got time, no doctors now, just you and me." Pedro averted. "Is it okay if I touch you?" As much as I loved and adored him, I wasn't ready yet. "That's fine, I'm still here. Just breathe." He instructed me. It didn't help. "Shit, I'm so sorry. Something got triggered, right?" He asked and I gulped out a weak affirmative sound. "And I wasn't helping, I should have known better. I'm not gonna hurt you or yell at you, okay, baby? You're not in a harmful situation."

I was so glad I didn't have to explain where this intense reaction came from. Pedro had already put two and two together. "The chlorine?" He asked and my louder sob revealed the truth. "Here, try this." I screwed my eyes open and saw him holding something out to me, a tube. I hiccupped and only managed a confused sound but he explained. "Toothpaste. It smells minty. Just... It will block out everything else if you rub it under your nose."

I tried to grasp it but my hands were shaking too much. My fingers twitched uselessly around the tube as if a puppeteer was pulling the strings to my form and I shook my head before watching him squeeze some white paste on his pinky finger. "Allow me?" Pedro asked and I looked up for the first time. Gazing into his eyes was shocking to say at least. There was no look of pity or panic in them, only kindness. Their corners shimmered with a silent kind of heartbreak at the sight of my fear but no matter how deep the pull into the dark abyss felt, the magnet of his eyes kept me from falling. They regarded me with only softness and a silent plea, soothing my soul. Nothing even closely resembled my dad's emotionless cruelty.

"Okay." My breath formed a single word, answered with only a mute velar obstruction. I didn't back away when he carefully drew the toothpaste under my nostrils and upper lip. It didn't stick very well due to the tears and snot and when Pedro accidentally put his pinky finger up my nostril, I tensed. A suspenseful moment later, I started giggling and I couldn't understand how I was laughing and crying at the same time.

Pedro tried and failed to hold back his own grin and he finally sat down on the floor as well.

Someone else's voice resonated into the room from outside. "Beats me, first she's crying but it takes Pedro one minute alone with her and now she's laughing again." I heard someone say outside the door and it made me snort only harder until I remembered how ridiculous I behaved and I cried again. Okay, borderline psychotic and bipolar it became.

Pedro intervened. "Hey, it's okay,"

The shock boiled down to a stunning level of shame. I forced myself to speak. "God, you m-must all think I'm insane." I cried out again and shook with sobs when Pedro rubbed my skin dry with the fabric he had provided, like a lost child with clattering teeth. I dropped my cheek on his hand and he moved it to cup it instead so he could redirect my gaze towards him. I leaned into his palm, comforted at the gentle touch. "Nobody thinks that." Pedro tried to assure me, to no use whatsoever.

"Yes, y-you do." "Well, I don't." He insisted and tugged the soft material I now recognised as my fluffy bathrobe around my back and shoulders. "What is happening? I'm sc- I'm scared." I begged him for answers and to please, take the pain away and guide me in my weakest moment.

"You're reliving trauma. It's a panic attack but I'm gonna help you, okay?" He explained all rational and far above my comprehension. I only cried harder and clutched at my chest where my heart was still beating painfully fast. "Oh, fuck." I swore, thinking I was about to die but not speaking this fatal diagnosis out loud.

Pedro touched me as little as possible but he pried wet strands of hair away from my face. "Did you ever experience a PTSD reaction before?"

"PTSD?" I heaved out. No, that- soldiers had that. I was just ordinary.

"Yeah. Intrusive thoughts or uh- over-reaction." He explained and frowned. "I don't remember all the symptoms, I'm sorry."

I thought back to the last time they bleached my hair back to my natural colour and I ended up crying at the hairdressers. It had never been this bad though. "Mh, shit." I heaved out frantically, not able to speak properly through my hiccups. Electrically charged twitches rippled through my entire body. I couldn't fight anymore and a wounded sound escaped my lips. "H- help."

Instead of answering, Pedro let his leather jacket slide off his shoulders and put it aside. No sudden movements, treating me like a bomb that needed to be defused. "Do you trust me?" He asked and this time I tried to disentangle my wild thoughts.

He held out his hands and waited until I was ready to take them and he carefully pulled me up and across his lap. He hushed me over and over, let me cry, cradled me softly and put my hand on his chest. "You feel me breathe?" He emphasised his question by inhaling deeply and my hand rose with his chest. "Just feel. It's okay, you're safe now. Breathe with me." Pedro inhaled through his nose and I smelled mint when I tried to follow his instructions but I couldn't breathe because I was crying and I couldn't stop crying because I had a panic attack.

I shook my head to somehow tell him that it wouldn't work but Pedro was determined, popping the first few buttons of his black button-down shirt to press the flat of my hand against his sternum. "Focus on me." He instructed, sound vibrating underneath my fingertips.

"Slow breaths. In-" His chest expanded and I inhaled. "Out." He breathed and exhaled with me while he watched me carefully. "In... and out, good job. You're doing great, baby. Keep going." Pedro praised me with a proud and hopeful smile on his face after I managed to calm my breaths. Though the silent tears of gratitude and shame kept rolling down my cheeks.

"Did I ever tell you about the songbirds in Thailand?" He suddenly asked as he soothed my back with his comforting broad palm and I spoke out a confused 'what'?

Pedro smiled and then he told me in whispers as mild and soft as a warm summer breeze. "Keeping songbirds as pets is a tradition there, a hobby among the elderly. Imagine a bunch of old people meeting up in the late morning with their little cages in their hands to hang them up in the trees." In my mind, I imagined staring up a tree, warm sunlight shimmering through its green leaves. The glinting bird cages and the fluttering of their colourful feathers as they chirped their songs. "They spend all day in their favourite café or restaurant, listening to them sing up there and when they go home at the end of the day, their own little bird will have learned a new song from the other songbirds."

"R-really?" I sniffed, distracted by the image of old Thais smiling at their birds' new songs, content with their music, happy with their lives. "Yeah! The first download." Pedro replied but his voice shook, yet he still managed to make me smile.

I opened my eyes and Pedro wiped my tears away but to no avail, they kept coming. "Can you count three things you can hear for me?" He asked, linking my hand back into his and I squirmed against the discomfort when he pinched the webbing tissue between my thumb and index finger. He firmly massaged the sore pressure point in an attempt to relieve my anxiety.

"W- why?" "It's called rooting, it will help you connect your body and mind to the present. Three things you can hear, touch, move and well... smell but we're going to ignore that for now."

How did he know these things? The pressure point worked and I relaxed my grip on his shoulder. Pedro hissed a little when I released him, having not said anything the entire time while I must have clawed my fingernails into him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." I cried and needed a bit more time to breathe but Pedro was infinitely patient with me, waited and guided me with his repetitive instructions until I had found my first sensation.

"You. I can hear your voice and... our breathing." I gulped and listened to the static above our heads. "Urgh, the lightbulb makes some noise." I noticed the electrical sizzling and Pedro hummed. "Very good. Now, three things you can touch or feel?" He quizzed me and I frowned and closed my eyes for a second. The steady thump of his heart under my palm, rooting me to him.

"Your- your heartbeat." I began and I continued to breathe with him until he finally let go of the pressure point on my other hand. "And the bathrobe." I twisted the soft fabric between my fingers and thought that this was what clouds must feel like, noticing the pleasant fabric made me feel a little better already. I counted my breaths until I felt a throbbing and burning pain on my wrist when the adrenaline wore off. "My wrist hurts."

Pedro met my new wave of distress with a soothing shush. "We'll take care of that soon, yeah?" I nodded and sniffed when he squeezed my knee and encouraged a little movement. "Let's lose some tension. Move any three body parts you like." I complied and wiggled my toes. "Are you- oh okay, toes it is. When did you put on that nail polish?" He tried to distract me again.

"Pedro, it's been part of my costume for months." "Really? I didn't even notice." I huffed out a laugh at him as he acted all oblivious and instead of a reply, I almost cried again but he hushed me. "Two." He reminded me, staring directly into my eyes.

I rolled my shoulders and it took only a second before I moved for the third time. I hugged myself around his neck and he drew me in closer, stroking over my back and wet hair while repeating the same things over and over until I finally breathed calmly. "I got you. Don't worry, I'm right here. Nothing's gonna harm you." He rocked me with him like a small child, which was strangely comforting.

I was infinitely grateful for him and felt so serene in his arms, I asked myself if one could be aware of falling unconscious. Nothing happened. No flashbacks, no anxiety or panic. Pedro was here and I was safe.

"What will Jim think?" I mumbled into his neck, tiredly and Pedro hummed. "Don't think about that now. I will explain to him that you're done for today. Nothing bad is going to happen, let him be emotional." The more he spoke, the more I could see his light grow upon me, like a lantern in the dark but bigger and more powerful.

"I thought I could handle the chlorine. I'm so sorry I ruined everything." I wanted to apologise to Pedro for everything, for acting like this, for lying to him, for not trying harder.

"You didn't ruin anything but we have to get you out of here." Pedro simply said and I sighed and nodded. He shifted my body so he could pull me up with him but my knees gave out as soon as I tried to stand properly. The world was spinning again and I would have fallen to the floor if he hadn't caught me. He picked me up and carried me bridal style like I weighed nothing.

"I got you." He said when I wrung my arms around him again. Pedro gave me soft, reassuring words and I hid my face in his neck when he managed to kick the door open. Brighter light accompanied by loud whispering surrounded us. I didn't want to open my eyes, only feel Pedro while my mother's bracelet dangled from my iron grasp.

The ambulance waiting outside offered to take me to the emergency room but after the medics had examined me, they told us my blood pressure was stable and everything was more or less under control. I had largely overcome my episode thanks to Pedro's help. While they continued to fuss over me, they interviewed him for what happened but I didn't understand a word. They gave me water and some tablets to swallow down while they patched up my wrist but I was in my own head, staring at my slippers hovering over the dusty earth as the medics made quick work of my superficial injuries.

Pedro appeared in my periphery and kneeled so he could take my hands and look up at me. "So, the good news is, you didn't suffer a severe case of tachycardia and you don't need to go to the ER if you don't want to." Pedro translated after they had approved my heart rate again. "But you're still in shock and you're advised to take a break from work." "A break?" "A couple of days." He rubbed his thumbs over the back of my hands and sighed with me.

I didn't want to think of the consequences of what this meant for our film. "Can we go home?" I asked with my head hung low in shame, even after he had tucked my hair behind my ear.

~~~

The bus ride back to the hotel was spent in silence. We were both still wearing our costumes, though my bikini had eventually dried underneath my bathrobe. I had fallen asleep with my head in his lap and his hand on my shoulder.

A strange feeling, like we were part of a mourning progression washed over me when we found the path down towards the hotel through this otherwise beautiful night. We didn't speak to anyone who stared after us with concern until we had walked directly into the lift. I didn't think about which room we would go to as long as he would stay. Luckily, Pedro led me to his door. "Shower?" He gave me a one-word question and I nodded with a sigh.

I was too tired to function outside automatic mode and just stood there until Pedro gave me a tiny smile and started to help me out of the remaining few items I was wearing. He put me into the bathtub so I could sit down while he sat next to me on the floor. Carefully to avoid letting the water touch my wrist, my body soaked up the warmth. Eventually, my muscles started to relax.

Pedro held up two choices of shampoo with a raised eyebrow. "I'm afraid it might not be your usual standard of fancy soaps. This one was just a quick buy at the airport. That one's new though." He widened his eyes dramatically and made me chuckle at the sight of the unnecessarily masculine labelled drug store product he suggested first and the second, equally unspectacular looking bottle. I suppressed my smile, secretly loving how down to earth he was.

I smelled both bottles somewhere past the toothpaste under my nose and smiled widely as I recognised that the first scent was unmistakably his. "The 'three in one' shampoo?" I asked somewhere between bewildered and amused and before he could protest, I interrupted. "I know, it gets the job done, right?"

Pedro gave me a strict but fond look before he cracked up at the sound of my giggles. "What?" He asked.

"Nothing, just... no wonder why you like my products better." "A-hah. She thinks shampoo for men stinks, thinks it's lazy, yeah?" "No, I want it!" I pouted while he was already squeezing some into his hand. We stayed silent for a while. The smell soothed my senses, no chlorine, no mint, just the scent of him in my nose. His fingers massaged the soap into my scalp until rinsing it out again.

I opened one eye. "How is your hair is so soft all the time, can't you also use that to clean bathrooms?" He sneered at my tease and I giggled when he sprayed my face with water and made me sputter. "There she is. The day you stop roasting me is the day I should be seriously worried." His chuckles slowly died, a sad reminder of what had occurred and how worried he had really been before we found ourselves in one of our so familiar tender moments.

He was the only thing I needed right now and I couldn't even find the words to tell him. I simply hoped he could somehow understand as we looked into each other's eyes and broke our hearts all over again. Coffee brewed orbs danced back and forth between mine like we were sharing our thoughts about how we just didn't understand how this could have all happened.

I couldn't hold back an anxious whisper. "Please say something."

Pedro had inhaled but any important words he could have uttered were left unspoken. He swallowed thickly. "Ready to get out?"

I nodded and took the hand he offered me to climb out of the tub. I managed to dry myself off after he had handed me a towel, along with his Purple Rain t-shirt and a pair of boxers to wear. They were too big for me but I adored the items and loved the way they hugged my skin. When I sat on his bed, I tucked my knees under my chin, unsure what he would do next.

His room was dark and somewhat less homey since we had practically moved in together. Pedro's desk hoarded a bunch of crumpled sheets of paper and a half-empty bottle of tequila. Clearly, I hadn't been the only one awake last night.

Pedro didn't bother to turn on the light but he sat down next to me to pry my hand towards him and check the bandages. His brows furrowed as he inspected it closely. He made my wrist look so pale and skinny compared to his larger proportions. Ever so gently, my nurse stroked his thumb over the material and gathered my hands in his, bending his head to connect my bandages with his lips. "It's gonna be alright." He muttered after the soft kiss and blow and the gesture made me tear up again.

How did I even deserve this abundance of affection after I had let my rage out on him, after all these horrible things I had spewed at him? After lying and pushing him away and laying out a plan on how to break up with him. I sniffed. "I'm so sorry." I pressed forward, feeling so tired of starting to cry all over again and again.

Pedro caught the first teardrop before it could even fall. "None of that was your fault."

"No, I mean- I mean-" I stammered shakily and when I met his soft and confused gaze, I could see a million unasked questions in them, none of them which he would speak aloud if I didn't do it first. "For lying to you about the call and acting the way I did," I explained, starting at the beginning and his lips parted. Pedro only let out a tiny gasp while his eyes started to well up with tears as well. "Ni-"

I could only ramble at him before he could say anything. "I swear there's nothing between him and me anymore and it was a mistake. Please, please, please forgive me." I lost my voice towards the end as Pedro tried shushing me frantically. "Sweetheart-" He assured me, swiping the fringe from my forehead. "How could any of that matter anymore? If anything, I'm the one who should apologise. I had no reason to ever doubt you and get mad at you or yell at you and I'm so, so sorry. Will you forgive 'me?" He said in return and we both pulled each other into a hug but I couldn't stop apologising to him either as I wrapped my entire body around his and muffled incomprehensible words into his neck.

Pedro squeezed me a little tighter like he didn't want to let me go either. "I'd never hurt you, you know that, right? You're safe and I'm always gonna protect you, okay?" He said and continued to stroke my back when I hiccuped. "I know." "You can try and rest a little, I'll be right here."

A shuddering exhale escaped my lungs at the gratitude I felt. "Can you hold me, please?" I asked with a strangled sob in my voice. It was only then that I realised how selfish I was and that maybe, Pedro wanted a hot shower too. It seemed though, we both didn't care about the state of his greasy styled hair and the costume clothes he was still wearing. He gave me an 'of course' and raised the covers for me to climb under.

Pedro curled around me, petting my damp hair out of the way and I raised his t-shirt to my nose, breathing in his warm scent. I felt infinitely blessed with his presence. "I missed you."

"Missed you too." He pulled me closer and held me to his body like I was moulded to fit. I sighed in relief, squeezing his arm tighter around me and it was only after I had found myself back in his arms, that I knew again where tenderness came from.

"Today was scary." I hoarsened out, not knowing what would have happened if he hadn't been there.

"I don't know how you even managed to go through fifty takes." "Managed?" We both let out a shaky breath of laughter. "I didn't want to let you down." "You didn't, don't worry." He spoke. "You're so stubborn, I'm impressed, actually."

"I was so determined to get the job done, thought that burying my memories would work like it had always done but I just snapped after Jim-" I whispered to him, swallowing down the lump in my throat. I decided I could maybe let him in a little. "You know about- about my..." I couldn't say it but he helped me out. "Your dad." He spoke darkly and shifted subtly to support his head in the palm of his hand afterwards. "I know, you don't have to talk about it if it's too much." I relaxed a little more at the comforting kiss and sigh he spilt into my neck.

Only a few people knew, apart from my family. Liv knew to some extent and I had entrusted Tom with everything many years ago and had him worry about my mental health ever since. In the back of my mind, I knew I was a train wreck waiting to happen.

It was then that I decided to include Pedro in the tiny circle of people who knew what I had gone through. He was the only one who had listened to my songs and had read my poems. He had known about my relationship with my father since I had told him at the beach, while the official story I had told the world didn't even mention a word about abuse. I had trusted him instantly. It was time to lay my trauma completely bare and tell him everything. "I want to," I said but didn't know where to start. Whether he waited patiently or might have thought I had already fallen asleep, I didn't know.

I trusted Pedro to learn everything about my past, with my entire heart and soul. "I was nine when mama died," I began, remembering the darkest day of my life when she gave me her bracelet and told me how much she loved me and that I had to be very brave now. Her kind, sickly pale face only remained in my memories but a memory without a life felt so empty. It was an image written in aching love and sorrow.

"Vader was never a kind man. He was such a brute to her behind closed doors. Mama always kept me out of harm and he never actually hit me but after she was gone, after his heart had died with her he-" I took a deep breath. "He was so angry... always 'so' angry and I was so afraid of him."

I closed my eyes. "We had a cellar underneath the house," I whispered my grief to him in the dark, my voice began to crumble as a new wave of painful memories hit me. "Naked, white tiles, sterile and always scrubbed clean surfaces." I needed time to steady myself and concentrate on the soothing feeling of his warmth surrounding me. It was so unlike everything I had re-experienced tonight. He was waiting until I was ready to speak again.

"It was scary down there with these big ice boxes and freezers filled with dead animals. Deer, birds, rabbits. My father hunts in his free time, that's why it always smelled like chlorine. He used it to keep everything clean. I remember him cutting and throwing waste into plastic buckets. It was normal. He sold the game meat and fed me with it. It tastes like... it has this earthy taste, what's the English word for it?" I babbled wetly.

"Venison?" Pedro helped me out and I gulped.

"Yeah, I don't like it," I said bitterly. "I don't like a lot of things but bleach and chlorine, well... same difference, I guess. I just have to smell it and then it's like I'm back there." He let me continue and didn't interrupt or speak up, even once. I panted through my headache. "He couldn't stand to look at me anymore, maybe saw too much of mama in me and then one day, he figured locking me in the cellar was convenient."

Momentarily, Pedro had stopped breathing but it wasn't long until I felt his gentle waves of breaths passing my ear again. It encouraged me to continue. "I begged him to let me out but sometimes, I was there all night with the bright lights on. Nobody could hear my screams from down there. I just sat there and waited."

Pedro let out a quiet curse and stopped his hand for a moment but it returned soon to pet my hair.

It was like I couldn't stop talking once I had started. I had to get rid of everything and instead of closing my mind from those memories, I let them in. "I waited, surrounded by death and I left with the horrible bleach smell on my clothes, feeling like the stench would swallow me up. You know, when chlorine and pee mix, that's when it gets really bad." A shaky inhale ripped through me, I was so ashamed. Tears spilt onto the pillow and a sob escaped my lungs, shaking my shoulders.

I couldn't recognise my voice when it pitched higher. "He locked me up every time I did something wrong." I needed longer this time to stop crying but his quiet hushes eventually calmed me down a little.

I shook my head, almost unnoticeable. It had been simpler than caring for me or letting me leave the house. It was almost laughable, nobody would call child protective service back then if there was no physical evidence of abuse.

Slow, careful breaths later, I could continue my story. "I'd sneak out and he would just sit in the kitchen in the dark, waiting. I would get raged at to a point when I left my body and walked inside the cellar willingly. I was so... I was only quiet in school, I didn't pay attention at all. They just thought I was just very shy or stupid."

Something wet splashed onto my cheek then and I tucked Pedro's arm around me tighter. The shift of his body had suggested he needed to wipe away the silent tears he spilt on my behalf.

Afraid, my story was ripping him to pieces, I silently asked him for forgiveness but he simply whispered sweet words of comfort into my hair in return, sounding so much stronger than me.

I realised there was nobody who could make me feel as safe as he did but if you grew up with an angry man in your house, you were haunted by it the rest of your life. He would always be there to make you think you should have done better.

"How did you get out?" Pedro finally asked and I smiled a little at the memory. "I ran away when I was twelve, made it all the way to Amsterdam because I had a ticket to a White Stripes concert." I giggled and lost some tension with it, thinking about how one thing led to another and now I was about to meet Jack White himself. "I met a nice woman there. She contacted my grandparents and I never went back home."

"Did he go to jail for what he did?" I thought I had heard a grain of rage in Pedro's warm tone.

"No, but he went into some sort of anger control program after my grandparents won custody." "That's ridiculous." I breathed out a laugh and my lips curled at the absurdity he pointed out. "Well, it seems to have worked because he got remarried. I went back to meet my half-sister a couple of years ago."

Pedro sounded surprised, somewhat lighter at this revelation that had never been open to public knowledge. "You have a sister?" He asked in wonder.

"Her name is Fee," I told him in return and Pedro repeated her name softly. I smiled at the memory of me holding the tiny baby girl with jet black hair. I had kissed the newborn fairy on the crown of her head and had sworn to watch over her. "She's in primary school now. Her teachers can't see any signs of abuse and I saw it myself. She's just a normal kid."

I didn't need to look at him to know that he was frowning. "When was that?" He asked while I stared ahead, watching the tree outside his window move slightly in the wind. "I stood outside her school last spring, saw her play with her friends. I'd hate to intrude now, she doesn't even know me."

"You're her sister, I bet she would love to meet you. I'll come with you if you want."

"You would go with me?" "Of course."

He put his arm around me under the covers to tuck me closer and allow me to relax against him. I closed my eyes as I stroked my cheek against his fingers, feeling like we kept the whole world between our hands. I filled the abyss between our touch with so much love it became an infinity.

It sounded like his nose had maybe clogged up as well when he spoke next. "You're so strong, you know that, right?" Pedro said and I felt both his hand and his lips press into my hair again. I didn't feel strong at all. "Despite everything you're still this gentle, positive and funny, 'amazing' human being. You're not... alienated from yourself, nothing scarred your kind heart. You... I admire you so much for your strength."

My bottom lip started to tremble when I felt he meant every single one of his kind words. He made it sound like just living was an act of bravery.

"I know there's something wrong with me." I turned my body so I could bury my face into his chest, maybe realising I had fought all my life against a past that tried to lock me up inside.

Pedro didn't want to see me cry anymore and he cupped my cheek with his giant palm so I'd look at him. The corners of his eyes shone wetly. "You're not broken. You experienced horrible things you can learn to... cope with. With help and support from the people who love and adore you." His voice had dropped, straining against the sorrow he shared with me. "You deserve to live a life free of pain." He spoke lyrically into the night, reassembling me from my reeling mind in this quiet, intimate moment.

I sincerely hoped he was right, that I could heal someday, learn that lying wasn't a safety measure that needed to reside permanently in me. "Maybe I do need therapy," I whispered to him with a heavy heart, realising there was a lot of unresolved trauma to unpack. "I wanna heal."

"I know, honey," "Is it hard?"

He sighed. "I think recovery doesn't always happen right away... it's not as linear as that. I just know you have to be kind and patient with yourself." Pedro continued stroking my hair. "And you don't have to figure out everything right now, that's important." His eyes skipped back and forth between mine and a sad smile tugged at his lips when he traced the track of my tears. "But you're gonna find the right therapist for you. What if you just tried a session and we'll go for burritos on 47th street afterwards, how about that?" Pedro gave me a full grin when he saw my amused smirk in reaction to his bribery of offering a visit to 'our' favourite burrito food truck.

Back home, he'd said. He planned to stick around after all. The way he had promised all of it and had painted our future so casually sparked hope inside. Once again, my eyes threatened to drown in tears but I felt nothing but gratitude and happiness this time. "I'd like that, yeah."

"I'll be there if you decide to take that step." He kissed my forehead and raised his eyebrows at me afterwards. "Okay?" He asked me pointedly, whether I had understood him or not and I realised that I trusted him to support me in my search for a therapist.

"Okay," I replied voicelessly but it was enough for Pedro. "It'll be alright again, I promise."

"Thank you," I buried my face into his chest, muffling my voice. "For listening, for your help." He was here, my solid ground to keep my balance.

While he cradled me, I could feel his smile lingering on my hairline. "Hey, it's okay to be the ocean for a while, you taught me that." Pedro referenced and a sigh of relief washed over me as I transported myself to a powerful happy place. "Lighthouse," I replied, yearning for the light in our faces. Right now, right here, he was burning bright in my uncertainty when the world was dark and unkind.

For a while, we remained silent until I began to smile a little. The thought in my already sleepy mind was translating into words. "Wanna hear the song I wrote about our fight?" I asked and felt his chest puff out in reaction to my bluntness. The drastic change of topic we had both initially fretted over and then forgotten about made me chortle out a laugh as well.

"Jesus, Nini." Pedro breathed out a laugh at my sorted out priorities. "Tomorrow, yeah?"

"Tomorrow," I repeated and swallowed a confession. I wanted to tell him that he was the kind of guy you wrote a thousand songs about, the kind you couldn't get out of your head before you fell asleep and wanted to wake up to again.

"Try to sleep a for a bit, yeah?" Pedro's baritone had sounded calm and reassuring.

"Please, stay?" I whimpered quietly, hoping his touch would never be erased. I wasn't sure why I even thought it would when he was holding me impossibly close like this. His strong heartbeat next to mine provided so much comfort. I was sure my love for him radiated out of my body into his.

"Always." My guardian angel replied in a whisper. Maybe it was this. The care with which he treated me, a soft kind of love that survived the fire. Love, that made the medicine taste not so bitter. My wound was where light could enter me. I felt more safe with every turn of the beam of light he sent across. His embrace was worth calling home and it made me overcome the pain and struggle of these unforgiving storm waves.

~

Part 16

Translation notes:

(dut): ophouen - (eng): stop it

(dut): vader - (eng): father

[theggning]

Codsworth Is So Underrated, You Guys

ALTERNATE TITLE: Codsworth and the Totally Understated Mindbending Evolution of Artificial Consciousness

I find Codsworth is often the most underrated of the 16 companions in Fallout 4. Your faithful robot butler is among the very first you can recruit and an excellent early-game ally, but he has a few disadvantages in gameplay that mean he’s often sent back to Sanctuary before long. Codsworth is a mid-to-close range fighter only, cannot wear armor or be equipped with weapons. He cannot be healed by stimpak, which makes him a liability if you’re playing on Survival mode. He has no companion quest of his own, so unless you particularly enjoy him there’s not a compelling reason to keep him for a long time. He also becomes recruitable exactly 2 minutes after adorable puppy Best Boy Dogmeat, so he is often (understandably) replaced just as soon as he’s made available.

But there is this great, completely understated facet to Codsworth, so understated that the game does not draw attention to it in any way. And yet, it is a wonderful reflection of many of the themes of Fallout 4 and, I believe, a pretty strong indication of its thesis statement.

Now what in the hell am I talking about?

Like many sci-fi/fantasy universes, the Fallout series is home to many highly-advanced robots. Robots were commonplace before the Great War, and many have survived the bombs intact and in working order. Others have been built or modified by wastelanders to serve various tasks (Percy, Ada.) The most important thing to understand about robots, though, is though they may have vivid personalities programmed in, they are widely accepted to be objects. They are thought of the same way as an appliance, a machine built for a specific purpose and programmed to follow a strict set of protocols.

Many jokes revolve around the relatively rigid intelligence of robots. Pre-War, many were deployed in inappropriate jobs or designed haphazardly (Mister Handies acting as nurses in a hospital, “paramedic” Protectrons with massive deadly tasers for hands, military robots constantly going haywire and erupting in friendly fire.) Others continue to man businesses and play out daily tasks as they were programmed to do over 200 years ago. Most robots are incapable of understanding anything beyond their initial programming, and most pre-War robots are completely unaware that the Great War ever happened.

When the Sole Survivor reunites with Codsworth at the ruins of their home, it seems like he, too, doesn’t understand what’s going on. He talks about tending the (dead) garden, references the (ghoulified) neighbors, and generally acts like the chipper robot butler Sole left behind on their way to Vault 111.

But there is something slightly… off in Codsworth’s dialogue here. Though he acts like the war never happened, he also specifically mentions details that suggest it did:

Player Default: Codsworth! You're still... fully operational?          

Codsworth: {Defiant} Well of course, mum. You can thank the fine engineers at General Atomics for that! At least, you could have. Had they not been... vaporized.

A bit over 210 actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer. That means you're two centuries late for dinner! Ha ha ha. Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.

You've no idea the desperation for human contact one develops over 200 years. {Upset, recalling bad memories of encountering raiders and scavengers. / Disgust} And when you do encounter them? Oh the cruelty! You're either... target practice or... spare parts!

Even stranger, Codsworth mentions details that are plainly made-up (or some kind of delusion):

Codsworth: It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers. Or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game. Is the lad... with you...?   

Player Default: Codsworth... listen to me carefully... have you seen him? Have you seen Shaun?              

Codsworth: Why, sir had him last, remember? Perhaps he's gone to the Parker residence to arrange a play-date?

(Shaun is an infant. He is too young to play charades or to go to the neighbors for a play-date.)

So at once, Codsworth does and does not acknowledge the war. He does and does not seem to understand what’s happened, and he does and does not seem to follow Sole’s urgency regarding their spouse’s death and Shaun’s kidnapping.

And then, after a speech check, Codsworth finally snaps and breaks down sobbing in despair. Not only does he understand that the war happened, he has developed the ability to get depressed about it. Longing for human contact and with nothing else to do, he’s even developed coping mechanisms to help him try to deal with his loneliness and despair—futilely trying to do his chores and deluding himself into pretending everything is completely normal.

Wait a minute. Sobbing? Despair? Depression? Coping mechanisms and delusions? This Is all pretty sophisticated stuff to be programmed into a robot, and if you spend more time with Codsworth, the reality of what’s happened to him becomes apparent:

Codsworth has evolved beyond his programming. In his 210 lonely years of existence, he has developed emotional reactions and self-awareness far beyond that of most other robots, and, indeed, has basically evolved an artificial consciousness.

“Emergent intelligence” is the theoretical ability of an AI to eventually develop something resembling human thought processes, and it seems that our dear Codsworth has undergone this. Traveling with him, he displays many sophisticated thoughts and behaviors far beyond what most robots are shown to be capable of. He has memories of pre-War time and places, and understands how various locations have changed. He is capable of learning new information and forming opinions on it, gaining his own understanding of the people and factions in the Commonwealth. He can feel happiness, sorrow, fear, disgust. He can anticipate things, predict danger and imagine how people might respond to your actions. The mere he fact he has opinions and a moral code that he applies to you shows he has free will, something even other robot companions don’t (Ada has a personality, but absolutely does not care about your actions.)

He’s also smart enough to make many wry observational jokes, and to lay one hell of a sick burn on you:

{Joking - Found an old bowling alley. / Amused} Fancy a game, mum? Something tells me the bumpers are no longer available.

 Codsworth’s intelligence is even more sophisticated than that. He displays stunning self-awareness, frequently referencing the fact he is a robot and what that means. He is very proud of his background as General Atomics’ finest, and seems pleased with his robot nature and his lot in life. (Unlike Curie, I don’t think Codsworth would ever really want to gain a synth body. He seems quite happy as he is.)

Here he is making reference to still feeling the tug of his programming:

{Seeing an office with chairs arranged in a circle. / Neutral} I've the most incredible urge to rearrange those chairs in a more perfect circle.

Understanding when other robots are restricted by theirs:

A pity. It appears Deezer's programming is too severe to allow for normal conversation. Ah well.

And when they’re actually not:

Codsworth: Greetings, sir. Good to see another robot in town. That chef hat becomes you.

Takahashi: Nan-ni shimasho-ka?

Codsworth: Takahashi you say? I'm Codsworth, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Takahashi: Nan-ni shimasho-ka?              

Codsworth: Is that so? Well, we both know RobCo is no General Atomics. It's not surprising it failed, shoddy work and all.  {Friendly - trying to cheer up another robot. / Friendly} Chin up, though. Never know when parts may turn up.

 And here’s Galaxy Brain Codsworth ruminating on his own state of being and contemplating his nature:

{Disappointed that he can't be 100% human sometimes. / Sad} It's unfortunate that I lack the proper design to consume liquids. Something about camaraderie over a few drinks is very inviting.            

I suppose if I had the hardware, I'd have the software as well. I'd hate to see how that'd affect my honesty and manner settings.

{Reconsidering what he thought was a good idea. / Thinking} Indeed. Perhaps I should rethink my initial desire.

Hilariously, Codsworth does not seem fully aware of how remarkable his intelligence is. He occasionally says things like “if I had feelings” and “if I could feel things,” indicating that in some ways he still believes he is only a robot and defines himself by what a robot is and does.

But as we can see, our humble robot butler has essentially evolved to become the smartest, most emotionally intelligent and person-like robot in the Commonwealth*, and potentially in the series.

([SIDE NOTE: Other FO4 robots nearing Codsworth’s level of consciousness and developed personality include Captain Ironsides, KLE-O, Whitechapel Charlie, and perhaps Takahashi. Curie is close, but also receives the unfair advantage of being uploaded into a synth body with a human brain. Jezebel also functions off of a human brain. Nick is not a robot, he’s a synth (though he does jokingly refer to himself as one) and also has the advantage of a human brain encoded on his processor.])

Also hilariously, the game basically does not acknowledge Codsworth’s impressive evolution. At all. There is absolutely no direct mention of it in the script. It is all left to ambient dialogue and the player’s own observations. And because so many people overlook Codsworth as a companion, they may not even realize exactly how unique his expanded consciousness is.

Now, you might call this total lack of mention a mistake, an oversight on Bethesda’s part, or that old chestnut “bad writing.” I don’t think it is. I think it’s a deliciously subtle little detail to include in a story about humanity, machines, artificial intelligence, and what makes a person.

Many of the themes of FO4 revolve around synths—distinctly not robots, but androids, artificially created beings with fully organic human bodies. Most of the storyline factions have strong beliefs about synths and the relative humanity thereof. The Institute believes that synths are objects, tools, machines no different from a robot who are only simulating their personalities through programming. The Brotherhood believes synths are monstrous abominations, a danger to humanity itself, technology run amok which needs to be destroyed. The Railroad believes they are people. Not humans, but people, built instead of born, free-thinking beings that deserve to be treated with respect and given rights.

Through quests, dialogue, notes, worldbuilding and other venues, players explore these questions. What makes someone a person? If your personality and memories can be rewritten or programmed, then who are you, really? Where do we draw the line between humans and machines, and how do we decide who belongs where?

Meanwhile, as the player contemplates the nature of personhood and the definition of intelligence, their robot butler quietly evolves into a fully-conscious person on his own, right beside them.

Codsworth is unquestionably a machine, but also unquestionably beyond the appliance he was built to be. Which to some philosophies and players should really beg a few other questions. If a robot can be considered a person, then what makes synths so different? And how many excuses do we have to make to pretend otherwise?

Ya boy Codsworth may not be flashy, or powerful, or kissable. He may not be the most glamorous companion around. But he is a good friend, a beloved member of the family, and above all else, a loyal butler—content to serve, quietly and humbly doing his job where some may never even notice him-- or the fact that he’s casually become his own person and sent generations of roboticists and philosophers spinning in their graves.

[to-hell-and-beyond]

Start of Something New Pt.2

Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x Reader

Requested: Yes : No

Request: hello! can you do 25 from the fluff list for hawk? i love your writing so much <3 - @sinicalh4wk​

I know this is probably not what you expected when you requested that but..I’ve been writing so many Pt.2′s and I had to do it! And what better to put our new Cobra Kai bullies in the mix? I enjoyed writing this so much so I hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s been a rough year but now its the Valentine's Day dance. A dance full of fun times and memories! Or another plot for Kylar. Guess him joining Cobra Kai has really boosted his ego. What will happen when he mixes his new friends in the mix?

Words: 1879

Pt.1

It definitely was the start of something new. Hand holding turned into sweet kisses, sweet kisses turned into passionate kisses and well...you know the rest. It was the start of a passionate first love, a flame that burned so bright it couldn't be put out. Even when Hawk flipped the script it still burned bright. It was that kind of love that everyone wishes that they had. But only a few were lucky to have it, you two were very lucky.

“Alright, listen up boys! And, well girl.” Kylar called as they all sat in the library. Rory, A.J, Brucks and Sarah were sitting down as Kylar flipped a chair around and sat down. He wanted to be “cool” like that. They had all become friends when they had joined Cobra Kai.

“The Valentine's day dance is coming up and that only means one thing.” Everyone had known of Kylars hate of Hawk. He is 100% sure that “Hawk stole his girl” even though you told him numerous times you didn’t like him. This was another one of his ridiculous plans to get him to be yours.

“Free drinks?” A.J asked as Kylar scowled at him.

“No. If Cobra Kai has taught us one thing, it’s to not give up-”

“I thought it was Strike hard, Strike fast, No mercy?” Sarah interrupted. She was picking at her nails in boredom as she talked. She had loved Cobra Kia, giving her a sense of family, but she was sick and tired of Kylars endless plots.

“Can you just be quiet for like 5 minutes?” Kyalr asked as he curled his fists. If there was no such Anti-Karate rule that was enforced in the school he would have already tried to kick Sarah’s ass.

“She just needed something to shut her up!” Brucks shouted which caused Rory and A.J to start laughing. The librarian came and shushed them. Sarah rolled her eyes wondering why she put up with them.

“Look, the only reason I'm here and not on a date with Tory is because you said there would be free food. I see no food so get along with it before I push you to the end of the world.” She threatened as they all took a step back away from her. What cowards.

“Well now that that is over, I have a plan.” Kylar said but yet again Sarah cut him off.

“If this is another one of your plans to put anonymous love letters in Y/n’s locker I’m leaving and going to tell Sensei Kreese what you did in the bathroom last friday.” Kylars turned an ugly shade of red as Sarah threatened him.

“Dude, what did you do?” Rory asked as he tried around to face his friend.

“It doesn't matter what I did.” He turned to face Rory and then back at Sarah. “If you don’t want to be a part of this fine leave, but don’t complain we don’t have time for Pussys. That’s why we need to show Y/n what a good man looks like and not Hawk and at the same time show those losers what Cobra kai can do. So what do you say? You all in?” Kylar asked as they all looked at eachother. Had Kylar actually said something that was not idiotic?

“I’m totally in dude, let’s go beat up some losers!” Brucks yelled as they all yelled in agreement with him. The librarian then came and kicked them out for being too loud.

---

“Are you sure this is the place?”

“Yes now shut up.” Oh how Sarah hated this. She could be on the couch cuddling with her girlfriend but instead she was here helping these idiots. Couldn’t they just get the materials themselves? Or even pair her with A.J instead of Rory?

“Did you get everything?” They turned around to see A.J covered head to toe in black. Guess Kylar wanted him to be incognito.

“Did you set up everything?” Rory asked as he passed A.J a bucket. He was starting to get flashbacks when they did Carie for their school play. He had played Tommy Russ and trust him when he says that the bucket scene was not fun.

“I’m so glad you're here. The last few hours have been hell and I couldn't even tell Tory!” She hugged A.J who was surprised. Sarah never showed much emotion but when she did it was really weird.

“Dudes! Everyone is in the gym! They don’t suspect a single thing!” Brucks laughed as the rest of them shushed him, including Rory. The man never seemed to use the appropriate voice at the appropriate time. The group was not sure if it was a blessing or a curse.

“Great! I just got the rest of the plan for Kylar. “Wait for the text and then unleash the storm”good, he couldn’t go with a better metaphor?” A.J said as he looked through his phone.

“What does “Unleash the storm” mean?” Rory asked as he helped Sarah climb up into the ceiling. It was her job to be the one that let go off the rope when Kylar told her too. 

“I swear to god, It feels like sometimes you're stupider than a prissy ass white boy here!” Sarah mumbled as she securdeed the rope.

“Hey!”

“I will drop you.”

“Aaaand we have confirmation. Unleash the storm Sarah.” That’s all it was to them. A simple game of tug-a-war. Spilling the contaminants of Kylars envy on to an innocent couple and watching as their love crumbles to the gourd. So that Kyler can swoop in and play hero. It was funny how things turned out…

“Wow...You look beautiful.” Hawk said as soon as he saw you. You looked like a marble statue carved by the most amazing artist in the world. It felt like deja-vu, feeling the same feelings he had when he first saw you. All the worry and fear seemed to leave his body when he saw you. It was like it was happening all over again.

“Thank you.” You laughed as you took his hand. Even though so much had changed in the past year he was the same boy you had fallen in love with. He still had that sweet smile and caring heart. You never wanted to let it go.

But you did...thanks to a bucket full of green slime. It stuck all over your body and completely ruined your outfit and hair. You heard a “clunk” as the bucket fell beside you along with the rope that held said bucket in place.. That was when you knew this whole thing was a set up. Someone was trying to do this to you. And you knew exactly who had done it.

“I thought that Hawk wasn’t supposed to be there when you let go?” Brucks asked as the group watched. They watched from the corner of the hallway as you and Hawk were covered in green slime. A.J, Rory and Sarah actually felt bad for you as they saw your heartbroken look. This was supposed to be your night but they had taken that away from you.

“You idiots!” Screeched Kylar as he ran to his group of friends, phone in hand.

“You were supposed to wait for me to get here and then hide! I would text Sarah when to let go off the bucket and then we would run! Your god damn lucky we didn't get caught! We're supposed to be in there now, people are going to be wondering why!” Kyler yelled. The group was pretty sure at the point everyone was hearing him.

“No dude, that’s not what you texted to me.” A.J said as he helped up his phone. Low and behold as Kyler was wrong and A.J was right. Sarah snorted while Rory and Brucks looked at Kylar with confusion. How could he have messed up a simple text?

“You guys do know that you're yelling right?” They all turned around to see you and Hawk both dripping in Green slime. Hawk looked like he was ready to bust all of the kneecaps in one kick and you looked...happy?

“I am so sorry you had to go through this Y/n.” Kyalr told the girl as everyone in the room rolled their eyes. “I was trying to show you how much I love you and how much Hawk doesn't love you! I mean look at him! He hasn’t even tried!” You grabbed Hawk’s hand as you saw he was pretty much growling.

“Don’t listen to him Y/n.” Sarah said as all eyes turned to focus on her. 

“Yah! This entire thing was Kylars plan!” Rory continued. He wasn’t a bad person per say, he just hung around the wrong crowd. He was heavily influenced, that was all his fault.

“This isn't the only thing he tried to do Y/n. He has been sneaking letters into your locker and even following you home some times. It's becoming borderline stalkerish.” A.J continued.

“Hey it’s not Kylars fault! He’s just doing what every man-” Brucks started to say to defend his best friend.

“If you continue that sentence I will hurt you worse then what I did the last time at the Dojo.” Hawk threatened. Was he really gonna start off with this misogynistic bullshit? Brucks took the hint and closed his mouth shut.

“Look I didn’t mean for you to get upset Y/n-” Kylar started to say.

“So you confess that you did do all that stuff to Y/n?” Sarah said as she popped a piece of gum into her mouth and began to chew. 

“Look-”

“It's a yes or no question idiot.” 

“Ok yes! Are you happy now?”

“Very happy.” Sarah continued as she took out a recorder from her Cobra Kai jacket pocket. She had never been so glad that these things could carry so much and still look incognito. She smiled at Kyler as she passed the tape to Y/n.

“We women need to look out for each other. I’m sorry about what happened to you and that I even went along with.” Sarah flashed a rare smile as she put a hand on your shoulder and turned to look at Kyler.

“If you touch Y/n or the tape I will tell Tory, and Tory will tell Kreese who will notify the authorities. Because we all know Tory is Kreese’s favorite after Robby left, and well Kreese is that good old soldier guy.” She gave a small wave to Kylar, who looked like he was going to blow his head off.

This day had not been perfect, but it was then the end of something new. Not a flame that no one could put out but, a boy with a huge ego. It was also the start of a few things. A start of a friendship, a start of a peaceful end to a long and cold war and a start of a clear ending all enjoyed. There was peace in the air for that very moment, a peace that had not been there for a while. Overall, all was well and all would be well.

[volexis]

⤷ december 12 ▸ i have fillings for you ft. sugawara

summary: in hindsight, staying up till 2 am might’ve not been one of your best ideas. that is, until you get a call from your very frantic boyfriend asking for your help in baking cookies. what could go wrong?

warnings: there’s like one quasi-suggestive sentence but other than that pure fluff (i hope)

wc: 1.5k

a/n: lowkey ngl i don’t really like how this turned out but she’s here! i was in a suga mood a couple of weeks ago and i wrote this and somehow it turned into me creating this event lmao

note: find the rest of the advent calendar here!

You all but sunk into the mattress as you let out a deep sigh. After an exhausting day, all you wanted was to let sleep overtake you as you bundled yourself in a slew of snug, cozy blankets. Your room was peaceful. The dark emptiness of the night filled you with balmy, heady delight as you shut your burning eyes for the first time in what seemed like days.

A dull buzz rang through the room, sharp enough to pull you out of your half-asleep state. You groaned and rolled over, praying whatever noise dared interrupt you would stop soon. It did, and you smiled in relief, snuggling back into your bed. The noise returned not a second later, this time, accompanied with a bright, blinding light. You reached over to your bedside table, staring at the culprit, your phone, through bleary eyes.

Twenty-four new messages alongside seven missed calls, all from the same person: your dear, loving boyfriend. You clenched your jaw after a glance at the clock, irritation clouding your mind. You answered the incoming call with a growl. “Suga, you better have a good reason for even thinking of calling me at—”

“(Y/N) thank goodness you’ve answered, I need your help!”

Any other day you would’ve hung up on him after thoroughly berating him for calling you at such an ungodly hour, but his words were saturated with desperation and something you hadn’t heard from him in a while: unmitigated panic. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

You could practically feel the warmth from his relieved smile through the phone, and you couldn’t help but glower. “Tell me what happened.”

“So, you remember I have a holiday party at work tomorrow, right?”

You confirmed, and he continued, practically tripping over his words as they sped to leave his mouth all at once. “Ikindasortaforgotthatineededtobakecookiesforthekidsand—”

“I’m stopping you right there. I did not understand a single thing you just said. It’s too early for this,” You felt bad, but you couldn’t help but laugh at your panic-stricken boyfriend. He resembled one of his students before giving a class presentation. “Please, can you slow down and repeat that?”

He took a shaky breath. His next words were slower, sounding them out in a bashful, apologetic tone. “I kind of, sort of, maybe, forgot that I promised the kids I’d bake cookies for their winter party... now all the stores closed and won’t open until after school starts…”

He tapered off as his voice softened into silence, words practically drenched in nervous anticipation. Your irritation bled into a temperate ire as you processed his words. “Let’s see if I understand this. What you called me for, at two in the morning, was to help you bake?”

His silence was answer enough. Your anger faded as his words sunk in, in its place a resigned smile. “You’re lucky you’re so cute. Anyways how’re we even going to get this done? Where are we even going to mee—”

“I’m already outside.” You swore you’d murder him one day.

You swung the door open unceremoniously, not at all surprised to see him towing bags of supplies with what could’ve passed as a sheepish smile if you didn’t know him well enough to see the gentle yet smug grin lying beneath it.

You followed him as he strode through your apartment, wincing as he upended the contents of his bags on your counter with a resounding crash. He dusted his hands and turned to you. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

You smiled, and he mirrored it with one of his own, quickly settling into a practiced rhythm beside you. He was in charge of shaping the cookies and monitoring the oven while you mixed the ingredients. The silence that soon enveloped your kitchen was nothing if not comfortable, a perfect backdrop to the soft clatter of your latest midnight endeavor.

“Babe, I’m almost out; can you pass me that flour over there?” Nothing.

“Babe? Suga? Kou?” You turned to face him and almost dropped your bowl. His hands were still; fingers wrapped tight around the scoop, dough dribbling off its edge while his eyes glued to your figure. He sported a smile sweet as sunshine, brimming with tender adoration.

“Kou?” Your breath caught in your throat, voice barely above a gentle whisper. It was enough to snap him out of whatever reverie absorbed him.

As if embarrassed to have been caught staring so unabashedly, he turned away quickly to face the bowl in front of him, pointedly avoiding your inquisitive glances. You wouldn’t have guessed Suga was feeling so flustered if it hadn’t been for the warm tint spreading over his cheeks and up to kiss the tips of his ears.

“What was that all about?” your tone dripped with the same teasing lilt he’d use to croon sweet nothings in your ear in your most intimate moments. It never failed to send electricity singing through your every nerve, and you hoped it would affect him the same way.

“Can’t I look at my beautiful partner?” His words were more brazen than you expected, having recovered from the ruffled state he was in just seconds before. You swiveled to gawk at him, scowling as he snickered at the mild disbelief in your eyes.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this,” you motioned to your attire: rumpled pajamas far too large for your frame paired with mismatched socks, and, to top it all off, a starchy lime green apron. “The epitome of beauty.”

Suga's smile melted into something tender and compassionate as he let go of his utensils; his lithe fingers reached to cup your cheeks and tilt your head to meet his gaze. You held your breath, incapable of tearing your eyes from his.

“I don’t care what you’re wearing, you could be wearing nothing at all, and it wouldn’t change the fact that you’re absolutely radiant.”

He firmly pressed his lips against yours, chuckling softly at your jolt of surprise. The two of you part, and he leans back to look at you, hands drifting to hold your waist and draw you closer. He kisses you again, and again, and again; fervently as your mind spins into delicious emptiness.

You’re both brought back to reality as a timer beeps obnoxiously loud beside you. Suga laughs against your skin and reaches over to check his phone, eyes widening in horror as realization crashes over him. He peels away from you and rushes to the oven, fretting over the condition of his treats.

You smile from your place on the counter, lowering yourself onto one of the nearby chairs to watch your boyfriend dart around the kitchen. You check your phone, and it dawns on you that you’ve been baking for the past four hours. Exhaustion envelops your every sense, and you yawn widely. Suga notices and looks down, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, love. We’re almost done, though. I think this is the last batch. After that, we can go to bed.”

You nod numbly and rest your chin on your palm, eyes slipping shut as you gently succumb to your long-awaited slumber.

You’re woken by soft, dim sunlight streaming through the cracks in your curtains. Almost out of habit, you reach over and search for your phone to turn off any alarms. Instead, you find a plate of cookies, delicately frosted. A small card rested by their side, the ink partially smeared in Suga’s hurry. You laughed quietly. He must’ve woken up late.

Dearest (Y/N),

You don’t know how much I appreciate your help last night. It was extremely unfair of me to call you so late, but you responded regardless. You turned what could have been an evening of inevitable disaster into a memory I’ll treasure forever. You fell asleep after we put the last batch in so don’t worry, I cleaned everything before heading out! Thank you again, really. I can’t wait to see you when I come home; love.

Yours always,

Kou

A fond smile makes its way across your lips as you scan his neat yet rushed handwriting. You dropped the card on the table with a sigh, almost missing a small post-it note attached to the back. Eyebrows furrowing, you flip the paper over to read the words, gentle and deliberate in its delicate script.

P.S. Ironically, I wrote this before I wrote what’s on the card, which makes this more of a pre-script rather than a postscript? Anyways, I’m rambling, on to the actual message.

I got to thinking after you fell asleep last night. Your words stuck to me. I never once stopped to consider you might not believe me when I remind you of how gorgeous you are. You’re my everything; my heart is full of you, so full my words fail me even now as I write this.

I said it once, and I’ll say it eternally. You are beautiful. Though you may not see it, I’ll make sure to repeat it every day until you learn how beautiful you are.

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