#i also haven't really written anything for them to date

[philosophiums]

sometimes i think i should post oc content and then i remember the only content i can provide is writing and i am otherwise engaged with that, both historically and at present

[raifuujin]

It's been more than 20 years and for some reason I feel that Gosho hasn't given Kaiao any development, how can more than 20 years pass and Aoko dynamics, relationship and feelings remain the same? At this point I feel like Gosho is just going to make them date because "they already liked each other" they remain in the same status quo

Hey, if we go by DC romance progress, they've been going too fast. We've already had suspicion of identity chapters, and that didn't happen until more than 400 chapters in DC. /j

Since heists have taken over any character development recently, I don't even know if Kaito and Aoko will even get any romantic progress. Maybe the actual identity confrontation will happen down the line, since that's thief drama, but atm, it really wouldn't surprise me if they only ask each other on a real date at the very end of the manga.

Like. I'm sure Gosho would love to make MK a love drama as well, but he writes MK so rarely, and usually as hype for something Kid related in other media. So the MK stories tend to be heavy on drama that can only take place at Kid heists. (To the point that the new chapters just. Use Kid as the plot device to show off a new character. Even Hakuba's never gotten so much 'look at this character being a detective' treatment in MK.)

-sighs- I just feel bad for MK as a series at this point. I like the characters, I like the general story idea, but. It's been going down a very steep hill with Gosho wanting things exciting, but not wanting any real progress in. Anything. But unlike old MK, the new stories aren't even nice standalone setpieces of story, they're... mundane. They could be high stakes, if you purely look at the scenarios on paper, but. We all know nothing's gonna happen to Kid. Nothing even happens to him when the actual bad guys show up, much less one-time antagonists.

We need actual character focus and development, not heist drama. Badly. Not even romance, though that'd be a nice change. Just any character expansion of our limited cast of characters. Gosho wants big, all the time, meaningless big stuff, when small would be so nice.

[hauntedrain]

For Years! | Max Verstappen x Reader |

Social media AU Summary: Max and reader get criticism over the status of their relationship.

✮▹ A/N: So sorry for not posting for so long. Life has been BUSY. but hopefully i can post more and write more! Love you guys <3

✰▹Warnings/Notices: Not edited. nothing really. reader mentioned to write music

Liked by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, & 3,345,678 others

@Y/N: Lovely time lately.

view all 19,234 comments

user1: LMFAO MAX.

user2: Y/N you'll always been iconic

user3: sometimes I forget Max Verstappen is dating THE Y/N L/N.

↪ user4: SO TRUE. It completely passes my mind that they've been together before he even got to F1.

↪ user5: THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 9 YEARS?

↪ user6: YEA ITS WILD.

↪ user7: wait but they haven't gotten married or anything?

↪ user8: Yea no. They also avoid the questions around it. Kind of weird to me.

↪ user9: But hasn't Y/N written songs about marriage and getting married? Why haven't they?

↪ user10: Maybe they just don't want to. Or max doesn't.

MaxVerstappen: Why did you choose that photo of me.

↪ Y/N: You want me to post the photo from yesterday?

↪ MaxVerstappen: NO.

↪ user11: LMFAO. PARENTS.

Liked by Y/N, Redbull, & 2,345,567 others

@MaxVerstappen: Great race and great win! Getting ready for next week. And thank you to @Y/N for making me but those glasses, best purchase.

View all 14,567 comments

Y/N: I told you they were a good investment

↪ MaxVerstappen: I don't know if you would call it an investment.

↪ Y/N: I'll post that picture.

↪MaxVerstappen: It was a great investment! better than a house!

↪ user12: better than a ring?

↪ user13: STOP. but no fr, wheres the ring Max?

user14: Okay nice win but when yall getting married?

user15: everyone needs to mind their business, maybe they're just not ready to get married and that okay.

↪ user16: But its been 9 YEARS. NINE YEARS. Its a red flag.

liked by 18,234 others

@F1GOSSIP: Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N have been criticized over the status of their relationship. The couple has been together for over 9 years however many fans have realized that there's been no movement in the relationship, family and marriage vise. Thought?

view all 5,567 comments

user17: I mean its their life but 9 years?

user18: Idk guys don't hate me but sometimes max doesn't seem interested in Y/N. Like all of the Monaco GP? seem happy around her.

↪ user19: Bro look at the pictures in the post. Does he seem unhappy in them? No he seems very happy.

↪ user20: Okay but lets be honest. Both only seem that happy in front of a camera.

User21: I mean for some of their relationship they were fairly young. Maybe they just wanna enjoy it little by little.

↪ user22: I think in 9 years you can enjoy a lot.

user23: I wouldn't marry her either. Max knows what's best which is why he hasn't done it.

Y/N has posted to their story!

liked by 6,678,567 others

@MaxVerstappen: happy 3 year anniversary @Y/N. love you much and cant wait for years to come. Also, people said I hated her? How could I?

view all 35,567,878 comments

Y/N: Guys my husband is kinda cool.

↪ MaxVerstappen: Kinda?

↪ Y/N: yea cuz im cooler than you.

↪ MaxVerstappen: Okay love.

user24: WTF 3 YEARS?

user25: max said hold my 3x WDC titles while I make everyone shut up about my relationship.

↪ Y/N: He just wins everything doesn't he?

↪ CharlesLeclerc: Yea its kinda annoying. you should distract him Y/N

↪ MaxVerstappen: Dont tell my wife to distract me, I'll lose.

↪ CharlesLeclerc: thats the point.

↪ LandoNorris: I just wanna win.

↪ user26: LMFAO WHAT IS HAPPENING

↪ Y/N: Im collecting them all

User27: And people said max didnt wanna marry her.

user28: Bro just keeps winning doesnt he. Y/N GIVE ME A CHANCE.

user29: if you look closely you can see me getting run over by an F1 car.

⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: I hope you guys like it! I need to post more but ive gotten so busy and haven't had the time. But I'll try to post more often. Love you guys! hope you enjoyed.

[leona-hawthorne]

AHHH IM SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!!! OKAY OKAY I WANTED TO BE ONE OF THE FIRST REQUESTS SO....

Can I have book browsing, trope is Friends to Lovers, with Theodore Nott, quotes/scenarios being: “say we’re just friends one more time. i dare you.”

“you’re so cute.” “what?” “i said you look like shit. bye!”

random people thinking you’re a couple when you’re supposed to be just “friends”

I'm so excited girl obviously no rush or obligation to write this but yeah love you

And I might have ideas for at least 2 more for the other two tropes I'm in love with (GrumpyxSunshine and fake dating)

I FEEL LIKE A PROUD MOM!! CONGRATS!!

HIIII I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING BB!!! and you can send in as many requests as you want, i LOVE fake dating 🤭 i haven't written a cute little friends to lovers in a VERY long time so this was so much fun for me, hope you like it :) also i love how i said these were gonna be drabbles and now this is over 2k 🧍🏽‍♀️(ps there was a position that i really struggled to describe so i hope the pic on the left helps you imagine it)

1k celebration navigation

JUST FRIENDS… book browsing

ミ★ THEODORE NOTT

The smell of old parchment and polished wood filled the little record store in Hogsmeade, the familiar scent settling around you like a cozy blanket. It was one of those shops you and Theo always managed to stumble into, especially on days when you both needed a break from the endless demands of exams and essays. 

Theo was flipping through a stack of records, eyebrows knit in concentration, while you stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, sharing amused little glances every time he pulled out a particularly dusty one. When he found an album cover featuring a hilariously dramatic wizard band—complete with glittering robes and exaggerated makeup—he held it up for you to see, lips twitching as he tried to hold back a laugh.

"Could be your new look," you teased, nudging him lightly.

He rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of mischief in them. "Think I could pull it off?"

"Not in a million years," you said, grinning, and he chuckled, the sound sweet and warm, and somehow just for you.

Moments later, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Stay here," he said, brushing a loose strand behind your ear in an almost absent gesture, one that had become so natural you barely noticed it anymore. "I’m leaving and getting us butterbeers before you can insult my taste any further."

Before you could respond, he was off, slipping out of the shop and leaving you alone with the smell of old records and a contented smile you couldn’t quite shake. 

You let your gaze wander across the store, admiring the walls plastered with concert posters and slightly faded album covers. It was then that the shopkeeper—a kind-eyed woman who looked as if she'd seen more than her fair share of young love—caught your attention. She was watching you with a soft, approving smile, and before you could say anything, she leaned in conspiratorially.

“You two make a beautiful couple, you know,” she said, her voice low but warm, as if she was sharing a delightful little secret.

Your mind stumbled over the words. “Oh! Um,” you stammered, your cheeks warming under her steady, amused gaze. “Actually, we’re not—uh, we’re just friends.”

The woman’s smile widened knowingly, her eyes twinkling. “Sure, sweetheart. Friends. I’ve seen enough ‘friends’ like you two in my day to last me a lifetime.” 

She left you standing there, words caught in your throat, while you tried to brush off the fluttering in your chest, and by the time Theo returned with your butterbeers, you were still blushing furiously, trying to process the shopkeeper's words. Her knowing smile lingered in your mind, making you acutely aware of the way your body seemed to hum in content whenever Theo was near.

“What’s with you?” he asked, handing you your drink.

You hesitated, searching his face for any hint of awareness, but his expression was relaxed, oblivious. “Nothing,” you muttered, taking a sip and forcing yourself to meet his eyes. But the word “couple” echoed in your mind, and for the first time, you weren’t so sure you could ignore it.

You knew she wasn't the only one to have thought you and Theo were dating. You weren't stupid nor oblivious; you'd both known about the rumors floating around Hogwarts. The ones that said you and Theo were boyfriend and girlfriend, the ones that said you were in love with each other, even the ones that said you had to have fucked at least once (which, no, you hadn't!).

Though, you couldn’t blame people for thinking that way. With the way Theo would always brush a strand of hair behind your ear, spoil you with gifts, bury his face in your neck when you hugged, even casually kiss your cheek when he bid you goodbye—it made sense people assumed such things. But still, all of it was just platonic, right?

As you sipped your butterbeer, trying to calm the strange mix of emotions swirling inside you, Theo picked up where he'd left off, flipping through records again. His fingers brushed against yours as he handed you another one to examine, and the brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through you.

"You should get this one," he said, pointing to a cover adorned with a dragon riding a broomstick. "It's got some decent tracks."

You took the record, trying to focus on the music instead of the warmth of his hand against yours. "Yeah, maybe," you replied, pretending to study the cover intently.

"Maybe?" Theo repeated, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Come on, don't leave me hanging. You've gotta have an opinion." He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke, "Besides, I think the dragon looks adorable on that broom."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the closeness, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. It took all your willpower not to lean into him, to savor the intimacy of the moment. "Alright, alright," you relented with a chuckle, holding up the record. "I'll take it. For you."

Theo grinned, satisfaction etched on his features. "Excellent choice. Now, let's pay for these and get out of here before you embarrass me further with your doubting of my impeccable taste."

Theo led you to the counter, setting the record upon the counter. The shopkeeper, who had returned to arranging a display of limited edition CDs, looked up and smiled. 

"This looks like a treasure, you two," she said, ringing up the item with practiced efficiency. "The young wizard definitely has good taste."

She nodded towards you, winking, and for a moment, you wondered if she would bring up your earlier exchange. But instead, she wrapped your selection in a brown paper bag and slid it across the counter. "Enjoy!"

Theo reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, dropping a few galleons onto the counter. "Here you go," he said to the shopkeeper, an easy, charismatic smile playing on his lips.

"Wait, Theo," you interjected, reaching for your own purse. "I can pay for myself. You don't need to buy my record."

But Theo waved you off dismissively. "Nah, don't worry about it. Consider it a gift from me to you." He winked playfully, flashing you a crooked grin. "Besides, I'm the one who insisted you get it, remember? It's only fair I foot the bill."

Your heart fluttered traitorously at his words, at the easy affection in his tone. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. "Well...thank you then," you managed, ducking your head shyly. "That's really sweet of you."

Theo shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a pleased gleam in his eye. “It’s what I’m here for.”

As you stepped out of the shop and back onto the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, Theo draped an arm casually around your shoulders. "So, where to now?" he asked, guiding you down the road. "We could head over to Zonko's, see if they have anything new and ridiculous... And potentially dangerous." 

You hesitated, feeling the weight of Theo's arm around your shoulders, the warmth seeping through your robes. Normally, you'd be all for exploring Zonko's, reveling in their eccentric and often hazardous products. But tonight, everything felt different.

"I don't know, Theo," you mumbled, glancing around at the deepening shadows. "It's getting pretty late. Maybe we should just head back to the castle?"

There was a flicker of disappointment in Theo's eyes, but he nodded understandingly. "Yeah, okay." He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing you, then holding out his hand, offering you a way to apparate together. "Ready?" 

You nodded, placing your hand in his. His grip was firm yet gentle, his palm slightly rough against your softer skin. With a twist of his wrist, Theo activated the apparition charm, and suddenly the world blurred around you.

When the colors settled, you found yourself standing in front of the Hogwarts gates, Theo still holding your hand. He let go slowly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Made it in one piece," he said, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

He fell into step beside you as you walked towards the girls' dormitories, his long legs easily keeping pace with your shorter strides. The silence between you was comfortable, the kind that came from years of friendship and shared experiences.

As you approached the door to your dormitory, Theo halted abruptly. 

"Well, until next time, princess," he quipped, giving you a mock salute. "Try not to dream too much about me, hmm?"

A playful smirk danced on his lips, and you couldn't help but return it, your heart skipping a beat at the flirty remark. "I make no promises," you retorted sarcastically, reaching for the doorknob.

Theo chuckled, the sound low and rich. He opened his mouth, seemed to ponder something for a moment, then spoke with exaggerated gravity, “I must bid you adieu, my trusty companion! Until the morrow!" 

He clasped his hands together dramatically, as if holding an invisible cane, complete with an imaginary top hat on his head.

Your laughter bubbled up unexpectedly, a sudden burst of joy at his antics. "You're so cute," you managed to gasp out between giggles, still grinning widely.

Theo froze mid-dramatic pose, his eyes widening. "What?" he sputtered.

Before he could react further, you added hastily, "Uh, I said you look like shit. Bye!" With that, you yanked open the dormitory door and practically dove inside, slamming it shut behind you.

The next day, you somehow found yourself in his room. You'd contemplated avoiding him altogether until you figured out your feelings, but who were you kidding? You could never say no to him when he asked you to hang out.

Theo sat by the windowsill, staring out at the sprawling grounds below. The setting sunlight cast a warm glow across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight scruff on his chin.

As he lost himself in thought, he became vaguely aware of movement from the corner of his eye. Glancing over, he stared at you, sprawled out on his bed flat on your back, a book propped up above your head as you read lazily.

Theo pushed the window open wider, allowing the evening breeze to carry in the scent of damp earth and rain. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, taking a slow drag as he gazed out at the sky. He exhaled slowly, watching the wisps dissipate into the evening air.

As you paused your reading for a moment, your gaze drifted over to Theo's silhouette by the window, the glow of his cigarette bright against the dim light. A familiar annoyance stirred within you, and you closed the book with a soft thud.

"Teddy, you know I hate it when you smoke around me," you said, trying to keep your tone light even as you wrinkled your nose in distaste. The acrid smell always lingered, clinging to his clothes and hair. You knew it wasn't fair to nag him, but old habits died hard.

Theo turned to face you fully, blowing out a stream of smoke before flicking the ash onto the windowsill. “I suppose I'm just a terrible friend then, aren't I?” he drawled, though there was no real bite to his words. “But tell me, Y/N, what would you prefer I do instead? Sit here and watch you sprawl across my bed like a lazy house cat all afternoon?”

You remained perfectly still, arms draped by your sides, book forgotten on your stomach. "Sounds like a plan to me," you replied nonchalantly, closing your eyes as if settling in for a nice nap.

The tension in the room seemed to shift, the air growing heavier with unspoken things. You could sense Theo's gaze on you, but you refused to acknowledge it, pretending you hadn't noticed the subtle change in his demeanor. Maybe if you acted like nothing was amiss, he would too.

Theo took another slow drag from his cigarette as he studied your profile, noting the slight furrowing of your brow as you pretended to drift off to sleep. After a moment, he stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and leaned against the windowsill, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I have a better idea," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "How about you tell me now why you were acting so weird yesterday when I came back to the record store?"

You felt your cheeks flush slightly at Theo's question, memories of the shopkeeper's words flashing through your mind unbidden. "I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I wasn't acting weird."

Even as the denial left your lips, you knew Theo could see right through it. He always had, ever since you'd first met him all those years ago. That uncanny ability to read you like an open book was part of what made him such an incredible friend...and lately, maybe something more.

Theo raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Save it, Y/N. I can practically hear the gears turning in that head of yours from here. Why are you dodging the question? Just tell me what happened."

A deep breath escaped you as you finally surrendered to the truth, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Okay, fine. It was just...that lady behind the counter. When you left to go get us butterbeers, she told me you and I make a beautiful couple... and I guess it shook me a little."

Theo fell silent for a long moment, his gaze searching yours intently. When he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "A beautiful couple, huh?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "And this bothers you because...?"

Still staring up at the ceiling, you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you tried to articulate your feelings. "Because! We're friends! And everyone keeps assuming that... you know. That there's something more between us."

Theo pushed himself away from the window, moving closer to where you lay across his bed. He sat down beside you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he rested his hand on the mattress.

"Well, maybe they're not wrong," he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. "Maybe there is something more between us."

Your heart began to race as Theo invaded your personal space, the warmth radiating from his body making you suddenly hyperaware of every inch of skin that brushed against yours. You swallowed hard, struggling to maintain a facade of calm.

"Teddy..." you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not... We... We're friends, right?" Even as the words left your mouth, you couldn't help but wonder if they were true anymore.

In a swift motion, Theo leaned down above you, bringing his face mere inches from yours as you lay flat on your back, giving you an upside-down view of his face looming over you. His hands found purchase on the mattress, holding himself aloft without touching you, and in that moment, you could've sworn your heart stopped beating. 

"Say we're just friends one more time," he challenged. "I dare you." 

As Theo's challenge hung heavy in the air, you found yourself unable to speak. Finally, after what felt like ages of silence, you managed to whisper, "I... What are we then, Theo?"

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nervousness. But there was something else there too – curiosity, perhaps? Or maybe hope? Whatever it was, it was clear that you weren't going to back down this time.

"More," Theo breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. And then, slowly, tentatively, he closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips softly against yours in a gentle, exploratory kiss.

It was chaste, almost innocent—but it sent sparks racing through your veins nonetheless. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you returned the kiss, marveling at the way Theo's lips moved against yours with such tender precision. This was new territory for both of you, and yet somehow, it felt so incredibly right.

Theo held the position, hovering above you with his hands gripping the mattress, his nose lightly brushing against your chin. He didn't deepen the kiss or try to pull you closer; instead, he simply lingered, savoring the feeling of your lips meeting his for the very first time.

As Theo pulled away from the kiss, you found yourself staring up at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "Wow, I, um— you—" you stammered, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

But before you could finish your sentence, Theo cut you off with a soft chuckle. "Shut up, Y/N," he murmured, his fingers grazing your cheek as he leaned in once more.

[infiniteglitterfall]

friggin faux-Palestinian history, istg

I'm in the middle of writing a post about the difficulties of pinning down details and dates in Palestinian history. This one is just me stopping to vent for a sec.

I came across the Wikipedia page for GUPS, the General Union of Palestinian Students. This is an organization with groups at colleges all over the world. Ish. It's shrunk over the decades.

The page made a bold claim: that GUPS was officially founded in Cairo in 1959, but had really started in the 1920s.

I called bullshit. The only source cited was a dead link to the 2010 version of the SFSU GUPS page, which said the same thing -- no context, no source, and especially, no explanation of how Palestinian student organizing could have started before there were colleges or universities in Palestine.

There were two. They were tiny. And they both taught in Hebrew.

Certainly, there could have been Arab Palestinian students there, who learned Hebrew there, or already knew it.

But were there so many that they started a student group that apparently lasted 35+ years before getting a name??

I could not find one other source for this.

So I deleted it and called bullshit.

Within a day, someone who wasn't even logged in reverted my edit. They told me that I hadn't proven that it was wrong, I'd just said it was illogical.

I started looking up sources and putting together a more detailed edit. In the meantime, I started a topic on the totally empty talk page, politely calling bullshit.

I said that I hadn't been able to find any sources in English OR Arabic that confirmed this claim, and that I thought it was an error made on a dead page.

The same person, now logged in, replied:

"you still haven't refuted the claim. the claim is still on their web page."

BRUH.

IT'S AN ARCHIVE OF A DEAD PAGE. BY DEFINITION, IT DOESN'T CHANGE.

This is exactly how it feels to research any of this stuff.

Every single time, it turns out that people's unsourced online bullshit is absolutely wrong.

Every single time, people just respond by insisting on believing whatever claim some rando made on the internet.

The problem is not that Palestinian history doesn't exist, hasn't been written down, or hasn't been researched. Of fucking course it has!!

(I have literally seen people claiming the contrary in the most wild-ass fucking ways. Supposedly-pro-Palestinian people, acting like Palestinians are wooby powerless fuzzy babbies whose books were all stolen by the cruel Jews 80 years ago, who had no way to replace that historic knowledge, and who have just been standing around ever since. It is the most Western Paternalism shit ever, and it absolutely drives me up the wall.)

The problem is that this is a topic that a lot of people are passionate about. And unfortunately, a whole lot of people are unwilling to back down on literally anything that "feels" pro-Palestinian to them, whether it's true or not.

It's purely going on Vibes, but the Vibes themselves are based on how something compares to the Vibes they get from social media and stuff.

And those vibes are so extreme and vehement that any kind of pushback sounds like You Love Genocide And Kill Babies For Fun.

It's just a fucking vicious spiral.

It's like playing tennis against the tennis-ball-throwing machine. It's not a real game. Nobody is engaging with you. It's just the same shit over and over.

(I was trying to type "shot." But apparently I swear so much that instead of autocorrecting me to "ducking hell," my phone now INSISTS I meant to cuss.)

I ended up getting Google to give me the Arabic for GUPS, and then digging for sources about its actual origin.

It turns out Yasser Arafat formed the Palestinian Students League in Cairo in 1949, and that became GUPS in 1956. This is entirely fucking unsurprising in any way if you know anything at all about actual Palestinian history. Of fucking course he did. This also explains why the first search result I found about GUPS was from the PLO. Of fucking course it was.

[piinksdoll]

→[Hansumfella x Shy!Reader HCs]

Pairing~ Hansumfella x Shy!Reader

Genre~ Fluff

Warnings~ "Smut" at the end

a/n~ so this is my first ever time writing smut so I didn't write much, pls be kind I've literally never written smutty stuff before

Background

You met because you both stream and you mentioned you liked watching his streams when asked “who’s your favourite streamer”. The next day everyone was spamming Tyler’s chat asking him if he’d seen your stream. “Yes I have seen Y/n’s stream. And Y/n, listen if you’re watching right now let's stream together. If you want to, I mean.” The chat went crazy and everyone was so excited. During your first stream together, you were very reserved and Tyler did most of the talking. When you did talk however, he looked at you with so much adoration, the chat definitely picked up on that and once again went crazy. After that you guys continued talking and eventually started dating which everyone loved and went crazy about (once again)

SFW

→ I feel like he's the kind of boyfriend that's absolutely obsessed with you like does not shut up about you and just loves watching your streams

→ He's also so caring like if he's been streaming for a while, after he's done he'll make sure to give you his full attention

→ He’ll make sure you've eaten and if you haven't he'll immediately order your favourite and make sure you eat

→ Squash is now your son too and honestly likes you more

→ He's SO clingy, if you've been gone all day and finally come back home, he’ll just hold you and literally not let go 

→ He loves kissing you but if you get shy and hide your face in your hands he’ll start kissing your hands or neck or really anything

→ He's super protective of you like if his or your chat starts talking shit he's on their ass, like he doesn't care what they say about his but he's really serious about you and you're too shy to confront anybody but he will

→ His favourite joke nickname is “Pookie” but his actual favourite nickname is “Angel” or “Baby”

→ He also loves taking photos of you and posting you, most of his Instagram photos are just of you

NSFW

→ He's really patient with you and doesn't rush you or force you at all

→ His favourite thing to do is eat you like you're his last meal like this man is addicted

→ He knows you're a little shy so the first time you suck him he's so gentle and isn't at all rough but when you tell him you like it rough, he's a menace like he's going to give you what you want and if you want it rough, he's going to give you exactly what you want

→ When you guys fuck he grips you so hard, literally leaving marks and he LOVES IT 

→ HICKIES OMG this man loves when you give him hickies and loves showing them off on stream

[lycheeloving]

a concept I've been rotating in my head for a really long time now is an AU where the entire Justice League is yandere... with multiverse stuff, because I'm still me <3

They have some sort of machine in the Watchtower that can be used to contact and monitor other universes and even open portals, they've been in contact with a bunch of other Justice Leagues and help each other out in case of extreme emergencies.

However, they all spend a lot of time at the machine doing things unrelated to what it's supposed to be used for. They each watch a different civilian in a different universe, are basically obsessed with them, you could even say they're stalking them... They all try to do this secretly, as they're aware that this isn't exactly behavior that's seen as normal and healthy (and morally sound). Some of them are more successful at hiding it than others.

I imagine Batman would be the first to connect the dots that they're all obsessed with someone, gather evidence of everyone doing this, call everyone to a meeting and confront them with said evidence, only to then reveal that he's been doing the same thing...

And then he suggests bringing their obsessions here, as this behavior has caused them all to be distracted and get worse at their Justice League business, but if their darlings were here, they would no longer have to worry if they were safe or not! Additionally, as they're all from different universes, nobody would think to accuse the Justice League of this universe to be responsible for the kidnappings, nobody would be able to even connect the dots that the kidnappings are related! Batman tries to make it seem like he's suggesting this because he's worried about their performance, and not because he wants to get his darling closer to him, close enough to finally touch.

Everyone eagerly agrees, of course (after getting over the embarrassment of "Oh shit, Batman saw me stalking someone"). After some preparations, like choosing and remodeling rooms so the objects of their affections will hopefully feel comfortable being kept there (well, as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances), they all work together to discreetly relocate all of their darlings from their original universes to their new home, the Watchtower in this universe.

Each darling gets their own room (that they share with their yandere, of course), but there's also rooms that are accessible to all of them, like a living room, a kitchen, etc, so they don't have to be alone when their yandere is out on patrol.

Everyone in the League tries to justify it to themselves by repeating how they're helping so many people, they've never asked for anything in return, they deserve this, but subconsciously they're all aware that what they're doing is not ok, they just don't care enough about that to stop. It's too late for that now anyways, their darlings are already here, they can't just return them!

I want to write something about what it's like to be the darling of the different members of the league at some point (and about the darlings escaping], but that might take a while, we'll see. Feel free to suggest Justice League members I should include though, I haven't quite decided about who exactly I want to be involved in this AU (other than the obvious Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. and probably Flash)

I've already written for: Batman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Superman

date night

[littlebearbun]

Sleepy-time T(ouching)

Stanford Pines x Reader

(Like sleepy-time tea? Get it? I'll see myself out. I hate writing titles.)

Summary: Stanford Pines is a brilliant scientist. He's also a liar. He said he would be in bed hours ago! Whatever is a determined lover like yourself to do about that?

AN: This is the longest fic I've written to date and it's not even for the Pines twin I simp for the most. Stanford just has a certain....Listen I think he would beg real nice and I wanna make him feel loved ok

Included: Oral sex with Ford under his desk. Hand/finger kink. Begging. Sub!Stanford Pines.

“Stanford Filbrick Pines, you told me you were coming to bed!” you called from the doorway to his lab, arms crossed and impatience lacing your tone. The machinery of his lab beeped and chirped sporadically. Some of them printed what looked like receipts of information for him to collect later. 

“It’s barely been a few minutes since you asked me to, darling,” Ford murmured. He didn’t even look up from his journal (if you remembered right, this was #5.) His shoulders were hunched, the sleeves of his red turtleneck rolled up to his elbows (God, you found his forearms of all things attractive. You really were in love), and his tan trenchcoat lay forgotten over a nearby chair. The six fingers of his left hand tapped rhythmically as he read over his notes. 

“It’s been three hours!” you responded with a roll of your eyes that he didn’t see. When he did look up, you saw exactly what you had seen hours ago-Ford’s eyes were ringed with dark circles, his eyes themselves were bleary and borderline unfocused, and his hair was mussed. He must have been running his hands through it. If it was frustration or contemplation, though, you couldn’t say. 

“Three hours?” he repeated, softer, and blinked for longer than necessary. It was probably one of his micro-naps, even though you didn’t really believe him that those were a thing. 

“Yes,” you said, and walked over to him. He watched as you approached, his eyes warm even through his obvious exhaustion. 

“I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t realize that I lost track of time. I’m so close, it feels like there’s just one or two more breakthroughs I need to make-”

“Stanford,” you interrupted, voice more of a coo of his name. “You haven't slept in, like, two days.” You reached out for him, cupping his face first, stroking your thumbs over his cheekbones. His shoulders loosened immediately. Even through your annoyance that he hadn’t come to bed, you couldn’t help the burst of affection for this man that melted into your hand as soon as you touched him. You didn’t say anything more for the moment, running your fingertips under his big brown eyes, over the bridge of his nose, across his brow, and lastly, over the seam of his mouth. 

By this point, Ford was already sufficiently in your power. His lips parted and he started to say something, stopped, and kissed your fingertip instead. You pressed it between his lips and gave him a sweet look. You did not miss the small shudder that went through him as you hooked your thumb behind his teeth and pressed. 

“Oh, honey,” you murmured, saccharine, and removed your hands from him. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, huh?” 

“I-” he started, but you took hold of the back of his rolling chair with your free hand and pulled it back just enough to fit between him and the desk. He cut himself off, then, watching you with narrowed eyes and a slight pink tint to his face. Carefully, to avoid his ire, you stacked all of his papers as orderly as you could and moved them to the side. You dropped his pens back into their glass with a clink and closed the box that held his other supplies for scientific notes and his lovely artistic journaling. You knew Ford liked organization, and he was looking at you like you’d hung the moon as you moved everything about his desk with such care. Once the desk was clear, you hopped up onto it, spreading your legs so Ford and the chair could fit between them. You pulled him forward by his turtleneck, kissing him properly this time. 

If Stanford Pines wouldn’t come to bed, you’d have to get him to follow another way.

As soon as your lips met, Ford let out a sigh that curled in your stomach and warmed. He tilted his head up, his nose bumping against yours (Ford had always been a rather clumsy kisser, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. It’s not like you minded either way.) You kissed him quick at first, pulling away too soon for both of your sakes. He tried to follow your mouth, eyes half lidded and mouth half open. You dodged him, and instead your lips followed the path of your fingers from earlier. You kissed under each of his eyes, then at the crows feet at their corners, his nose, each of his brows, and then both of his cheeks. 

“Darling,” Ford said, long suffering but a bit breathless already. You giggled, moving like you were about to kiss him again, but then you dipped to kiss his chin, then his jaw, dragging your lips across his stubble. It tingled. 

“Love,” Ford tried again, and you laughed again against his skin. 

“Yes?” you teased. “Do you need something, handsome?” 

Ford gave you a look that you were sure he thought said ‘you know exactly what I want’, but to you it just looked a little petulant and needy. You grinned at him. 

“Ask me,” you said, straightening his glasses for him as if they wouldn’t be askew again in a few moments. “What do you need?”

“.....For you to let me work,” he mumbled, but his gaze was squarely focused on your mouth. You tsked.

“Well, what I need is for you to sleep, Stanford.” you said. “So try again.” 

Ford looked pained for a moment, clearly unsure if he wanted to give in to your game or hold out in the hopes you would actually let him work. 

You wouldn’t agree to the latter, obviously, and he knew you better than that.

“Kiss me,” he finally said, the words barely audible over the machinery of his lab. You cupped a hand to your ear, leaning forward. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked, and Ford scoffed. Still, he was smiling, just a slight quirk of his lips, and his eyes were crinkled at the edges. He could not hold a poker face for the life of him. You loved that. 

“Kiss me,” he said, louder. “Please.” 

“I suppose,” you said, but your immediate kiss betrayed your excitement. Ford had come such a long way in asking for what he wanted, it was hard not to give it to him. 

This kiss wasn’t quick, wasn’t meant to tease anymore. You put your hands on his shoulders for balance as you leaned in and kissed him. You felt one of his broad hands splay across your thigh and the other cupped your cheek. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone in an almost mechanical but comforting movement. 

Ford, for his part, kissed you with no less enthusiasm than earlier, but this time you allowed it. His tongue parted your lips and licked into your mouth, behind your teeth, across the roof of your mouth. You sighed into it and Ford let out a soft little moan. He’d always been so touch starved, so perfectly easy. You nipped at his tongue. One of your hands followed his shoulder up to his neck and you played with the baby hairs at the base of his skull. Everything in you wanted to pull them, so you did, delighting in the groan that escaped your lover. His hand left your thigh and played with the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it to spread his fingers against your stomach.

“Darling,” he gasped out, his lips kiss swollen and pupils blown. You bit your lower lip, smiling, hopelessly in love. 

In lieu of responding, you mirrored your earlier movement, pressing a thumb between Ford’s lips. He accepted it immediately, eyes fluttering shut as he licked and sucked at your finger. A muffled groan escaped him.

“Yessss?” you asked, hoping that he would get the hint from earlier and ask for more when-

Footsteps on the stairs. Ford paled. You squeaked, yanking your finger from his mouth. He looked momentarily bereft, but quickly tried to school his expression into neutrality. 

You didn’t know why it was the first instinct you had-You could have hidden behind one of the many machines in the lab, or simply pretended you were both only talking (though the blush on both of your faces would have betrayed you.) It wasn’t like everyone in the house didn’t already know that you and Ford were involved, but-

You slid to your knees, hiding under the desk.

Ford stared at you, incredulous, one bushy eyebrow raised, and you put a finger to your lips. You grabbed him by his knees and pulled the chair back in, effectively hiding you from view. Ford kept his legs spread to make room for you under the desk, but he was clearly tense. One of his boots tapped a nervous rhythm on the floor.

“Just find out what they want and we can get back to it,” you whisper, winking at him. 

“But-” Ford was cut off by Stanley opening the door, and you shrunk more under the desk. If Stanley found out about this, neither of you would ever hear the end of it. While that was better than Dipper or Mabel interrupting, the repercussions would certainly last longer and would show up over every meal, every conversation with Ford's smarmy younger brother. 

“Stanley,” Ford said, waving a hand at his twin. His voice was surprisingly level. 

“Hey, Pointdexter!” Stanley replied in that rasp of his. It seemed deeper than normal-maybe he was out smoking a cigar on the back porch recently. 

“What can I do for you?” Stanford asked, impatience coloring his tone, but Stanley was used to that. Ford got that way when he was deep in a project or a train of thought.

Stanley answered him, but to be honest, you had stopped paying attention because when you looked ahead towards Ford’s hips…Well. You knew he was easy but God. 

He already had a hard on. You could see the outline of it through his pants. From the little bit you had done to him. 

You bit back a smirk. How you loved this man. You put a hand on his knee, rubbing it with your thumb, and it probably would have been comforting if you didn't know he was so keyed up already. You rest your cheek on his opposite thigh, against his black pants, and the contact made him stutter. 

“S-Sorry, Stanley,” he said, waving it off, voice a bit clipped. “Just a bit tired. Nothing to worry about.” His other hand slipped under the desk and six fingers spread in your hair and pulled slightly in warning. 

You did not heed it. If anything, it spurred you on.

You grabbed his wrist, gently tugging, and Ford released your hair. Knowing him, he was worried he had hurt you. Far from it, you just had more devious plans in mind. 

Ford's hands had always been beautiful. You had thought so when you first met him, when you shook his hand and Mabel quipped something about how it was a “full finger friendlier than normal!” Ford had laughed then, shaking his head in that fond way you had later grown to recognize, and apologized for the strangeness of his handshake. Even then, when you'd barely known him, it had taken you aback. Why apologize for something so lovely?

As you'd grown closer, gotten together, his hands had only held more fascination for you. Those lingering touches on your shoulder or your elbow as he passed you in the hall, the first time you'd kissed and he had cupped your face with six fingers instead of five. It felt all the more encompassing. 

Even when you both had graduated to more…strenuous activities, even when you had fawned over his hands and begged for more of his fingers, he had paused. Apologized. Looked momentarily so far away. You had to fix that. 

You had been delighted to learn that you could quiet Ford’s insecurities about his hands when you took them in your mouth. 

So you did. You pulled Stanford's hand to your mouth and kissed each fingertip. Above you, his breath hitched, but he did not pull his hand away. Greedy. 

Good.  

You started with his pinky. You licked from the knuckle closest to his palm to his fingertip and then sucked on the end of it, pressed the length of your tongue across it. The short gray hairs on the back of his fingers tickled your lips. You gave him a moment to bask in the warmth of your mouth and then you moved to the next finger, then the next, when you took his two middle fingers into your mouth. 

Ford’s hips jerked up involuntarily. His feet planted flat on the floor and he lifted out of the chair for just a moment. You grinned around his fingers, dragging your teeth and tongue lightly across them, playing with them like you would his cock. His fingers twitched and flexed in your mouth, then pressed so far back you gagged. 

Ford yanked his hand away from you and you bit out a whine. He clasped both of his hands together on his lap, knuckles white, fingers slick with saliva, and you barely kept in a giggle.

Stanley said something about a specific tool that he was sure Ford had and he needed to borrow. You caught bits and pieces, so focused on your task of torturing the scientist you loved.

You leaned forward more, scooting forwards on the floor as close as you could get with the wheels of the chair in the way. You touched his hands and he recoiled, probably nervous about you continuing and him making a noise he could not hide from Stanley. With his hands ‘safely’ above the desk, your prize was revealed to you. 

You pressed a kiss to the bulge in his pants. You licked up the clothed length of him, the fabric rough against your tongue, but you knew that the light touch would drive Ford up a wall. 

You wished you could see his face.

You undid the button of his pants and took his zipper in your teeth as you heard Stanley's slippers slap against the floor and recede to the back of the lab. Stanford loudly mentioned “the red toolbox in the cabinet to the left” and then leaned forward to hiss

“What do you think you're doing?”

“I should think that's obvious,” you whispered after unzipping him. You grinned at him, all promise, your fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxers. “Ask me to stop. You know the safeword.”

Stanford's mouth hung open for a moment and them snapped closed with an audible click of his teeth. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. His jaw set and his cheeks colored. He took a deep, steadying breath through his nose. 

He did not ask you to stop. He did, however, level you with a look that spoke of payback and devotion all at once, then straightened back up to address Stanley. One of his hands found it's way into your hair again and his fingers combed through your hair until he got a hold in it. 

“Did you find it?” He asked, and you pulled the waistband of his underwear down to free his cock. It twitched a bit in the cooler air of the lab. Ford wasn't especially thick, but he was longer than average, with well groomed short gray curls at the base of him. You licked your lips and used the hand not still on his knee to smear precum across the head. 

Ford stiffened but didn’t make any noise. 

What a good boy. 

You leaned forward, licking the pre you spread from the tip of him, and then started at the base. You flattened your tongue against him, dragging it up his length and then off of him again. Your saliva cooled against his skin as you stared for a moment, gleeful. His fingers tightened in your hair. 

“Found it!” You heard Stanley shout from the back of the lab. He tripped over a box in his exclamation, stumbling and knocking some gadgets from their place. You could see Ford’s displeasure in your mind’s eye, so you took that moment to take him fully into your mouth. 

Ford made a sound like he had been punched, a low exhale of air layered with a groan. He bent over the desk slightly and his hips jerked up to meet your mouth. You took him deeper. He was warm against your tongue, hard and twitching. Your thumb kept soothing motions against his knee. 

“Hey, Sixer, you ok there?” Stanley asked, and Ford straightened. 

“Fine, fine, Stanley. Like I said, just tired. I'll be heading to bed soon,” Ford said, voice a bit strained.

Happiness bubbled in you at his admission, warring with arousal. 

“If you say so,” Stanley said. You pictured one of his bushy gray eyebrows climbed up into his hairline. “Thanks for the screwdriver-Mine doesn't have the bits anymore. I'll bring it back.” 

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder on him, taking him deeper until you wanted to gag. You just wanted to feel him shake.

“No rush,” Ford said, which should have tipped Stanley off that something was wrong immediately. Ford always wanted his things back as soon as possible. “I know where you live, after a-ah-all.” 

Stanley chuckled, blessedly ignoring Ford’s slip, and his footsteps receeded back upstairs. The metal door to the lab shut with hopeful finality. 

“Fuck,” Ford gasped, and wheeled his chair back out of your reach. You whined at the loss and wiped your mouth with the back of your own hand. 

Stanford stumbled to his feet, pants barely hanging off his thighs, and moved towards the door. He flipped the heavy metal lock and looked back at you with the expression of a man starved. “I want to see you,” he said, and sat back in the chair with his legs spread. You raised an eyebrow at him and did not move from under the desk. “Please,” he added. “Please let me see you.”

Well. You wouldn't say no when he asked so nicely. 

“You're learning,” you teased as you slid forward on your knees to rest between his legs. “See what rewards you get when you're good?”

“Yes, I-Mnn,” Ford broke into a moan as you took him back in your mouth. You giggled, and the vibrations made him gasp. You looked up at him as you sucked, base to tip. His ears and his cheeks were a perfect shade of red. 

“Try again,” you said, smirking.

“I…I see,” he said, and rest a hand on your head almost reverently. “W-What I get when I'm g-aaah…!” 

You didn't let him finish. He looked too delicious, sounded too wrecked. Your sweet, sweet man. 

“Be a good boy,” you whispered as you stroked him. “Be good for me and cum.”

“S-Shit, I…I…” He actually whimpered. “Please, tell me…tell me I'm…” he trailed off, whether by embarrassment or pleasure you weren't sure. Either way. 

You kissed the tip of him again, tenderly, gazing up at him with all the love you had. Still, you needed him to say it. “Tell you you're what?” You ask, and run your fingertips lightly up the underside of his cock. He cursed, ears fully scarlet now, and gave you a molten look. 

“Please,” he started, and you're so so proud of him already. “Tell me I'm…” He trailed off, clearly fighting with himself. His pride, his self sabotage, his need to cum. The latter won out. He couldn't look at you. “...good. Please tell me I'm good.” His voice got a bit watery at the end and your expression softened. You pretended not to notice the tear that escaped and rolled down his cheek.

“Oh, my sweet, precious Ford. Of course you're good. So, so good.” And you took him back into your mouth, deep enough you could feel him in your throat, and swallowed around him. 

Stanford let out a filthy moan of your name as he came. His whole body curled over you, his thighs tensed and shook under your hands, and you watched his jaw go slack as he gasped and moaned through it. His hand tightened in your hair to the point of pain. You moaned around him and swallowed. You squirmed a bit where you sat, so unbelievably turned on by this man, and kept him in the warmth of your mouth. You sucked on his softening cock again, experimentally, and he gasped out a 

“Please…!”

He didn't pull you off of him and you didn't volunteer the movement, instead licking at his length with him still in your mouth. You dug your nails into his thighs through his slacks as he squirmed and looked up at him in rapt adoration as you shallowly bobbed your head.

Making him cum again was easy. He was already so sensitive, so shaky and pliant, begging out a chorus of pleasepleaseplease. All it took was a few more licks and a moan you let out around him. This orgasm was weaker, which was fine, because the whiney moan he let out was heaven. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and he squeezed them shut, unable to watch you any longer. His head fell back, resting against the back of the chair as he tried to remember his own name. You kept him in your mouth until he came down from it, keeping your head still this time, and he gently pulled you off by the hair. 

“You are…magnificent,” he whispered, ever the wordsmith. He cupped your face, memorizing your swollen lips, your hazy eyes, the flush of your cheeks, and you laughed. His head lolled a bit, the lack of sleep and the pleasure you'd given him stirring into the perfect cocktail to get him to bed. 

���I could say the same about you,” you counter, and you press a kiss to his fully soft length just to hear him gasp. You tucked him gingerly back into his pants, zipped and buttoned them, and stood, smoothing out his hair and fixing his crooked glasses. You kissed his forehead. “Now come on, my good boy. It's bed time.” 

“What about you?” He asked softly as you pulled him to his feet by one of his perfect hands. He looked towards your hips, suggestion in his tone and tired eyes, but then he swayed a bit. You pressed yourself to his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“What about me?” You asked, smiling up at him. No matter how much you wanted him, some things were more important. “Like I said earlier. All I needed was for you to come to bed.”

[archaeren]

Hello!! I hope you're having a good day ^^ I came across your post about writing non-linearly on Notion and I'm excited to try it out because the advice resonated with me! Though, I'm really new to using the app and, if possible, need help with how to do this part: 'where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry.' ;v;

Hello! Thank you so much for messaging!!! Since that post about writing non-linearly (linked for context) blew up roughly ten thousand times as much as anything I've ever posted, I've been kind of meaning to make a followup post explaining more about how I use Notion for writing non-linearly, but, you know, ADHD, so I haven't done it yet. XD In the meantime, I'll post a couple screenshots of my current long fic with some explanations! I'd make this post shorter, but I'm unable to not be Chatty. XD (just ask my poor readers how long my author notes are...) (There is a phone app as well which syncs with the desktop/browser versions, but I work predominantly in the desktop app so that's what I'm gonna be showing)

(the table keeps going off the right side of the image but it's a bunch of unimportant stuff tbh) So this is more complicated than what you'll probably start with because I'm Normal and add a bunch of details that you might not need depending on what you're doing. For example, my fic switches POVs so I have a column for tracking that, and my fic follows a canon timeline so I have a column for dates so I can keep track of them, and I also made columns for things like if a scene had spoilers or certain content readers may want to avoid, which they can access in my spoiler and content guide for the fic. (As I said, I'm Normal.) I also do some complicated stuff using Status and estimated wordcount stuff to get an idea of how long I predict the content to be, but again, not necessary. Anyway, you don't need any of that. For the purposes of this explanation, we're just gonna look at the columns I have called Name, Order, and Status. (And one called Part, but we'll get into that later) Columns in Notion have different types, such as Text, Numbers, Select, Date, etc, so make sure to use the type that works best for the purpose of each column! For example, here I'm using Select for Character POVs, Number for Order and WC (wordcount), and Text for the In-Game Date. Okay let's get into it! Name is a column that comes in a Notion table by default, and you can't get rid of it (which drives me up the wall for some purposes but works totally fine for what we're doing here). As you can see on the scene I've labeled 'roll call', if you hover over a Name entry, a little button called 'Open' appears, which you click on to open the document that's inside the table. That's all default, you don't have to set anything up for it. Here's a screenshot of what it looks like when I click the one titled 'I will be anything for you' (I've scrolled down in the screenshot so you can see the text, but all the data fields also appear at the top of the page)

(This view is called 'side peek' meaning the document opens on one side and you can still see the table under it on the left, which is what mine defaults to. But you can set it to 'center peek' or 'full page' as well.) All my scenes have their own entry like this! Note that I've said scenes, not chapters. I decide the chapters later by combining the scenes in whatever combination feels right, which means I can often decide in advance where my chapter endings will be. This helps me consciously give most of my endings more impact than I was usually able to do when I tried to write linearly. So hopefully that gives you an idea of what I mean by writing inside the table and treating the table as a living outline. The 'Status' column is also pretty straightforward, and might require a little setup for whatever your needs are. This is another default column type Notion has which is similar to a Select but has a few more specialized features. This is how mine is set up:

(I don't actually use 'Done', idk why I left it there. Probably I should replace it with 'Posted' and use that instead of the checkmark on the far left? whatever, don't let anyone tell you I'm organized. XDD)

Pretty straightforward, it just lets me see easily what's complete and what still needs work. (You'll notice there's no status for editing, because like I mentioned in my other post, I don't ever sit down to consciously edit, I just let it happen as I reread) Obviously tailor this to your own needs! The Order column is sneakily important, because this is what makes it easy for me to keep the scenes organized. I set the Sort on the table to use the Order to keep the scene ordered chronologically. When I make the initial list of scenes I know the fic will have, I give all of them a whole number to put them in order of events. Then as I write and come up with new scene ideas, the new scenes get a number with a decimal point to put them in the spot they fit in the timeline. (you can't see it here, but some of them have a decimal three or four digits deep, lol). Technically you can drag them to the correct spot manually, but if you ever create another View in your table (you can see I have eight Views in this one, they're right under the title) it won't keep your sorting in the new View and you'll hate yourself when it jumbles all your scenes. XD (And if you get more comfortable with Notion, you probably will at some point desire to make more Views) The Part column isn't necessary, but I found that as the fic grew longer, I was naturally separating the scenes into different points along the timeline by changes in status quo, etc. (ex. "this is before they go overseas" "this is after they speak for the first time", stuff like that) in my mind. To make it easier to decide where to place new scenes in the timeline, I formalized this into Parts, which initially I named with short summaries of the current status quo, and later changed to actual titles because I decided it would be cool to actually use them in the fic itself. Since it's not in the screenshots above, here's what the dropdown for it looks like:

(I've blocked some of the titles out for spoiler reasons)

Basically I only mention the Parts thing because I found it was a useful organizational tool for me and I was naturally doing it in my head anyway. Anyway, I could keep talking about this for a really long time because I love Notion (don't get me started on how I use toggle blocks for hiding content I've edited out without deleting it) but that should be enough to get started and I should really, you know, not make this another insanely long post. XDD And if anybody is curious about how the final results look, the fic can be found here.

[aliensunflower-fics]

My Recommended Fic List

So, I got this ask awhile ago, and since I have been re-reading a bunch of my old favorite fics as a way to cheer up after work I figured why not. This list will be long... and varied but mostly its older fics cuz idk there my favs. Now lets go:

Fashion Upgrade - By @soap-lady : Straight up one of my favorite fics ever, its fun, its creative, it never fails to make me laugh when I need something warm and wholesome after a bad day. Also go check out the rest of her stuff there's so much good okay like shes just a writing queen. Shes on AO3 I don't want to spoil you on her other stuff just GO experience it for yourself.

Ode To Decoy pt 1 / 2 / 3 - By @a-marlene-s : Ive always liked this short sweet little fic about Lila getting caught. Its Lila + class salt though so avoid if that's not your flavor.

EVERYTHING - By @unmaskedagain : They have salt, they have sugar, they have funny, they have crossovers. Like honestly they are a just a great writer with so much variety so go check out the masterlist I linked and I guarantee there will be something there you like.

@ravennm84 Is a writer on the saltier side but they have a wonderful selection of weird wacky tales from the salty but oh so well written Damning Evidence that sees Lila get caught in the best way to the 3 part Horror inspired Serafina other great fics from them include Marinettes Family Court Circus pt 1 / 2 and Of Moldy Bread and Cockroaches / Be Kind to Servers honestly its worth giving there blog a look.

@mochinek0 Is another writer with several beloved fics. They write a lot of Maribat and we love them for it. Ones to check out would be Blind Date / Bruce vs Gabriel just go check out there tag list of daminette for more.

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette - By @lady-literature : This is a wonderful idea and a wonderful little fic and I just... I just like it okay. Sadly I haven't read a lot of there other stuff... But I might after finishing this list considering how much I enjoy this one.

@nobodyfamousposts I love a LOT of there fics. They are one of the best when it comes to striking that sweet spot of calling out the show for some of its garbage while not getting so salty that you cant have fun lighthearted goodness. I have been looking for a masterlist of there work but cant find one so just go stalk there tags. I do recommend there Chloe's Lament Series 1 / 2 exploring how certain 'wishes' would backfire. Guardian Assistant Kevin is also a good one Miracle Queen Aftermath pt 1 / 2 / The 8 parter Burn the Witch series / The Wisdom Teeth Reveal / Kagami Vs The Wall of Faces / Resigning With Grace & Spite / I tried to give a lot of links cuz they have a lot of stuff

Kill Them With Kindness - By @luki-fanfic : Well written, good salt without going overboard. Just good vibes. I havent stalked there other stuff but if its anything like this fic its probably excellent quality.

Stephen Vladislav pt 1 / 2 - By @stormiclown : Adrien centered salt on the idea of finally giving Adrien his own proper rival. I like the idea of Adrien having a rival because its usually Marinette and this was just the right length to get those creative ideas flowing. Also just well written what more can you ask for.

Power Trip - By @storygirl000 : This was the first fic that made me go... Wait would it be more fun if Lila was actually competent? And that set me on the path to writing my own fics where Lila is more villainous and more capable. Its short, well written. Good.

Your Wish is My Command - By DemiGoddess28 on AO3 : A great 11 chapter fic looking into Lila's life if she were to win and get a miraculous wish. Its got sugary goodness for our protagonists and the class and salt for our dearest friend Lila.

LadyBugOut AU - By Miraculous-Content on AO3 : A 50 chapter fic made up of snippets and ideas. I found it really inspiring in many ways. I also love how it redeems Marinettes classmates showing how and why they were tricked but holding them accountable anyway its just... Good.

Juleka vs The Forces of the Universe - By goldenlaurelleaves on AO3 : For those of us not yet ready to accept the death of luka/mari we have this wonderful fic showing Juleka being the biggest wingman as she helps these idiots find there way together.

ChaoticNeutral on AO3 has there own Chloe's Lament fic as well as a Gabriel's Lament fic for people who need sweet salty of those two characters.

BroadwayCutie16 was Inspired by the person above and DemiGoddesses your wish is my command fic to write Lila's Lament fic going over Lilas failed wish. Honestly I always love these fics because there just so interesting and the way wishes can be taken and twisted is always a fascinating idea to me.

#WayneAngel - By Tired-Writing-Teach on AO3 : For us Maribat lovers. Its fun and lighthearted with some good gags and some light fluff.

Damian in Paris - By Lilliesandliveries on AO3 : A sweet Maribat series showing what would happen if Damian ran away from home and found himself in Paris and getting therapy.

How a Demon Commissions an Angel - By AlixAnonymous : Damian blackmails Marinette into letting him be her client so he can get his bros the best gifts, they end up becoming penpal buddies.

Mythomania - By LadyEnna_50 on AO3 : Proof that I dont hate Adrien or Mari/Adrien. In this fic Adrien's spine gets titanium plating and he sees just how bad Lila is hurting Marinette and does something about it.

The Contingency - By AbyssalGuardian on AO3 : SALT. Also Tim/Mari but even still I love the way this was written, the style, and some of the ideas just ugh love it. Its not for those who dont like salt so just avoid at your own discretion. Its about a chaotic Marinette done with her life running away to Gotham where she meets her true black cat, and gets her life back on track.

The String That Binds Us - By FaithAndATypeWriter on AO3 : Okay so is there any Mari/Bat fan who hasnt already heard of this one? Who cares its good, its cute, I love it. May the author be blessed with snacks.

The Great IKEA Game - By @batsandbugs : Okay again... I think every Mari/Bat fan has probably heard of this one already because its just that good and that popular. But who cares I am recommending it anyway. Don't read if your allergic to fun I guess.

If this list still doesn't somehow have enough salt for you then try @goggles-mcgee fics here is a link to there Masterlist. They are in a way a professional at salt and angst and they make you want to adopt Marinette and pop her in a blanket fort.

Honestly I could keep going but this list already feels so long for other great recs though I can link you to @jayphoenic who has some great Daminette Fic Recs and some Lila Salt Fic Recs!

Feel free to reblog this and add some links to stuff you would think I or others might like! Also lets just acknowledge how many talented authors the community has like wow.

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

can yu please do like shinichiro as a bf but like, pathetic bf!shinichiro x nonchalant cool gf!y/n ?

YES! I love this so much! Thank you for requesting<333

After being rejected by 20th times, Shinichiro finally lost hope that he would ever get a partner but, oh my god, when he found himself falling in love with you and you accepting his confession?? He was on ninth sky.

Though, you two were quite opposite of each other. Opposite attract they call it. You were confident, nonchalant, cool, could easily pull off, would often show off and could fight well. Let's just say, you were the head of relationship and leading it as well. Since even a kiss from you would get him blushing so madly that he'd faint.

Shinichiro would totally show you off. He's not insecure or possessive so why not? Man, he still can't believe that you choose him as your lover. YOU, someone as amazing as you, choose him, pathetic and loser, as your lover.

He'd follow you everywhere like a dog.

In general, I feel like he wouldn't be dominant like Mikey and Izana. Rather Shinichiro would like to be dominated.

You know he's good at fighting and is actually strong but just chooses to don't fight so he lets you outshine him. But you aren't a type to fight if it's not necessary.

Shinichiro was in shock when he first found out that you could pick him up. Like hello?? He still picks you up tho.

Ofc you got introduced to his siblings! You weren't best with kids but you got along with them just fine!

You, coming over at Sano's house:

Shinichiro: Hello, darling-

You, shoves him aside and runs to see Izana, Manjiro and Emma: My babies!!

Shinichiro, teasing: Aren't I your baby too?

Were making out with Shinichiro in his room but Manjiro opened the door, having no idea what you two were doing but when he realised, he was like "eeeewwwwww."

Most of the times, Shinichiro is very energetic and would take you to the most random places as a date. You still have no idea how he even found these places.

His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch. Yours is quality time.

He's really restless and hyper boyfriend sometimes and might accidentally do something incredibly stupid so, please, don't let him.

Just a single glance is enough from you and he'd immediately fix his attitude.

Always teasing each other but he ends up losing and blushing like a tomato.

♡♡♡♡

This was surprisingly hard to write. I haven't written anything about Shinichiro in a longg time so this was also nice to write! I hope you're satisfied<333

[thatmexisaurusrex]

So I haven't written a lot of meta in a while for anything, but I feel the need to talk about this because I just have a lot of feelings about it.

I want to talk about the two kisses Buck and Tommy have shared on screen. What I like about the two kisses is that there's this wonderful difference between them.

The first one is the one Tommy initiated with Buck. There's this caution and care and easing that Tommy brings, partially because he doesn't know where Buck stands and he's taking a chance on this feeling. He gives Buck the opportunity to move away from the kiss, to not let Tommy guide him into that kiss.

And even when Buck kisses back, Tommy is still gentle; Tommy is soft and he lingers. Tommy soaks in that moment.

And Buck's kiss at the hospital?

Oh wow it's beautiful in a completely different way. Buck has seen this man not only come to a bachelor party Buck organized despite Tommy being on call, but Tommy coming to Chimney and Maddie's wedding at a random hospital as soon as he could after fighting a 24 hour forest fire. Buck has seen Tommy make him a priority when so many people don't do that for Buck.

But here Tommy is.

Rushing to the hospital.

Tommy probably had his coworkers drop him off in their station's firetruck. Tommy didn't even go back to his station to change, he rushed into that hospital with his entire uniform on, still covered in soot.

Tommy was there for Buck.

Because Buck is important to Tommy. Because this was important to Buck. And Tommy had promised he would be there.

And there's this joy Buck has in someone caring about him that much; to date someone who actually thinks about what's important to Buck. This person who keeps being there for him even when work makes it difficult.

And there's a confidence in Buck.

In how he feels about Tommy.

In what he wants.

These two have been going out for weeks, and you can see the difference in how Buck acts in public with his boyfriend now, even if he's not out to most of his loved ones (yet).

That's so clear in Buck's actions. Buck takes control of that kiss in a way that surprises Tommy, you can hear it in the surprised moan. Because Tommy wasn't putting any expectations on Buck, he was okay with whatever Buck could give him. He never pressured Buck.

And this is what Buck gives when he's comfortable and feels loved.

And part of Tommy's surprise must be that no one actually handles him like this. People see Tommy's size and assume that he would be the one who would initiate, who would take control.

And Tommy?

Tommy melts into that kiss. And Buck can tell and he keeps kissing Tommy like that.

And you know, people talk about how Tommy should have warned Buck to wipe the soot off his face, but honestly how would Tommy have the brain cells to do that after a rough 24 hour shift and that kiss? I bet Tommy could barely focus enough to apologize to Maddie and Chimney for being late.

Buck is also so pleased with himself. You can see that when he goes upstairs. He's been making out with that man long enough to where people are casually chatting while eating wedding cake and he is just energized.

I just really love both of these kisses.

[soulwrencher]

Hey i just read your fanfic "and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all". and i loved it, i wonder if you could maybe make a part 2 if you have time, And if you want too. And ofcourse, you dont have to do it or rush it

hi! thank you sm <3 yes ofc i can, haven't written in a hot minute so;

and still i answer your call when she doesn't answer at all, part 2

pairing: ellie x fem!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, cheating, nsfw, curse words, soft?? ellie but highkey salty, not proofread yet again, lesbian sex <3, and also first time writing smut plsplspls have mercy on me, xoxo

word count: 3,9k

summary: you visit ellie again to thank her for comforting and taking care of you, but things take a different course when your 'girlfriend' texts you. or; ellie eats you out.

as warm tones start to set into the blue sky, february doesn't seem so cold anymore.

all your worries were washed away, all thanks to ellie. after you stormed to her place at the most vile hour, ellie took good care of you, the two of you watched your favourite movies until you fell asleep and she prepared you some breakfast before you had to leave for work. guilt resides in the pits of your gut, your gratefulness has never left the four walls of your mind, it is time you finally thank ellie for everything she has done for you these past few days.

you spent the whole day in bed, sulking away while thoughts of your girlfriend cross your mind. you reach for your phone, no message from her.

as you take steady steps to your closet you realise that there's no turning back now. you've made up your mind, it is over. but you needed good advice from a very good friend, surely ellie would have all the answers to your questions. flicking through all the clothes in your closet, memories of your girlfriend start to occupy your mind. the dress you wore on your first date, the hoodie she bought you on a rainy november day, the graphic tee you wore the first time she made you cry, and all the other clothes that witnessed you being miserable because of her. it had to end, now.

all dressed up now, you wash your face, washing the smudged mascara from yesterday's crying away. lately your emotions have been all over the place but you told yourself it is better to feel them rather than bottling everything up.

ready to leave, you text ellie a simple 'i'm gonna stop by your place' shortly regretting that you didn't text her earlier. but to your luck she replies almost immediately.

'sure, have you eaten?' the words circle your mind. you don't know whether you're impressed by the fact that she answered so quickly or that she potentially knew you haven't eaten a single thing yet.

'no' you reply, slipping your phone into your pocket while fishing out your keys that you mindlessly put in your pockets before locking the door.

you step outside and cold wind is blowing your way. the sky has already lost itself in complete darkness, but the clouds haven't shied away, surrounding the moons light.

ellie is just as nervous as the last time you were here, although now she had something to keep herself busy with: cooking.

keeping it simple, because she's too scared to mess up, but not too boring, ellie doesn't want you to think that she can't cook.

a dilemma she might never escape, because she knows you don't overthink any of your actions towards her. but should she really be thinking about this right now? ellie tries her best to feel somewhat content that you're coming over. however, knowing that she is one-sidedly overthinking her actions, caring for your needs and, well, liking you, she can't help but feel like burning this entire kitchen down instead of cooking a nice meal for the two of you.

"shit," ellie groans as she feels the blade digging into her fingertip. this for sure wasn't part of the cute scenarios she just made up nor was it part of her plan to burn this kitchen down. ellie rushes to find a plaster, a bandage, anything to put on her finger.

the door rings, ellie rushes to the door, heavy footsteps echo and bounce off the stairwell walls. the sound of you felt like a mixture of butterflies and sour lemons in her guts.

and there you stand, right in front of her. something in the fresh evening air must've altered your brain chemistry, because why do you feel her eyes linger? and why do you want them to? your emotional imbalance is surely to blame, you most definitely lack attentiveness and consideration. ellie lightly clearing her throat interrupts your almost driving you to insanity monologue, your eyes now drawn to her body.

has your friend's arms always looked this big? she's just wearing a plain white t-shirt, but you can't seem to stop yourself from tracing the strokes of her tattoo with your eyes. soft hello's were exchanged before ellie offered to take off your jacket. the outfit you picked out today and deemed too light for your own comfort suddenly became ridiculously warm.

"how have you been?" ellie asks, making her way to the kitchen as you awkwardly stand in the hallway trying to cool down.

"better? uh, do you mind if i change?" your voice breaks a little, you lightly chuckle to cover your discomfort.

ellie shakes her head, her whole attention directed towards the plates she's trying to decorate nicely with the food she has just made. truth is, she's trying her hardest not to think about you changing, about your bare, soft skin, about—

"oh my god," it emerges from ellie's bedroom, ripping ellie out of her mildly inappropriate thoughts. she was so sure that she cleaned her room well, even checked multiple times and every corner, what on earth did you find? she fiddles with her hands as she walks towards her bedroom, door slightly open. the auburn haired woman doesn't believe in god, but on this very day, she is making all kinds of prayers, hoping for the best. ellie opens the door and seeing you sit on her bed with your phone in your hand is surprisingly disappointing.

you watch her stand at the doorframe, her arms crossed, flexing her buff arms. you can't ignore her furrowed eyebrows, but when ellie notices the concern written all over your face she mouths a low 'what happened?'

you turn around your phone for ellie to read the text message your girlfriend just sent you.

'hey baby, can we talk? i'm really sorry' ellie reads in her head. she definitely prayed for all the wrong reasons, because this is exponentially worse than anything she feared just a minute ago.

"why are you showing me this?" she asks, her voice low. she's still standing in front of you, looking down on you. her gaze on you makes you feel things you haven't felt in a long time. but your girlfriend just texted you and is apologising for her actions, you need to focus. but something about the way her eyes are locking you in is making it a little harder to breathe.

you take a deep breath, you need oxygen to clear your head.

"well, i came here because i needed advice—" you carefully watch ellie approaching you slowly.

"—i wanted to end things with her but—" you thought you were attentive enough but you're taken aback by ellie's big hands resting on your thighs, her face dangerously close to yours. you steal a small glimpse at her tired eyes piercing you through before continuing. her being so close causes your breath to shorten, you're hoping your all that she can't see your chest lifting.

"—she apologised now, so we're good," you say. ellie's eyes widen in disbelief, slightly tilting her head.

"are you serious?" she scoffs, her eyes shut close before searching for answers in yours. you nod and watch ellie drop her head in disappointment, followed by several scoffs and sighs.

"no you're not," she says under her breath, disappointment slowly spiralling into exasperation. ellie can't tolerate this any longer. whether it is your dumb decisions or your inability to see your worth, she won't take this anymore. and it might be selfish to get angry at you for not seeing her more than just a friend, but she did decide on a whim while cooking that this is the day where she finally tells you. however the manner things are progressing for now seem to be reaching a dead end.

"i have to reply though," you mumble, but ellie's furrowed eyebrows insinuate you to feel insecure about your decision.

"you don't," ellie says, as an auburn hair strand looses itself from her split ponytail. her arm reaches for your phone, but you hold it up by reflex, you didn't expect her to grab for your phone. however, you forget that you're the one sitting and she'd just have to stand up straight to get your phone, so you rapidly throw your back onto the mattress, arms far away, she surely won't be able to get your phone now.

"fuck, you can't be—" ellie hesitates, and you smile triumphantly, until you feel something weighting you down. your eyes widen in realisation, did ellie just climb on top of you? your body's brush now and then against each other while she's trying to reach for your phone. you're about to turn to the side when you feel ellie's strong hands hold your wrist down, making it impossible for you to move. for a minute, you forget why you wanted to turn away as you loose yourself in her sage green eyes. and that's when realisation hits you, you're under her, at the mercy of her big, strong arms. ellie doesn't keep eye contact for long, her eyes are fixated on stealing your phone, your eyes are focused on her jaw line. you're being held down, her knees restricting your upper body from the sides, her chest alarmingly close to your face. your grip around your phone softens, your too distracted by her presence pressing and holding you down.

you hear ellie whisper a 'finally' before you're eye to eye again. ellie was too busy taking your phone away and only notices now how close the two of you are. your chests lightly brush against each other, ellie still pinning you down to the bed. her grip tightens around your wrist as she thinks about the way you're still so caught up with your girlfriend, but the fact that she has your full attention for once overrides all the anger she bottled up. you gulp down and break away from her gaze, looking to the side, where she's holding you down.

"what happened to your finger?" you finally break the silence, earning a low chuckle from ellie. she's breathing right onto your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

you watch ellie's lip move, form words, pressing against each other softly.

"you sure you wanna text your girlfriend?" the last words pull you out of the daze her lips put you in, she surely must've said something important. you need to focus. you have to ignore that your body is screaming to be held, to be touched.

the thought of ellie touching you has never crossed your mind until... now. this very thought makes you want to adjust your lower body, arching your back slightly.

ellie can't help but notice all the movement happening below her. she's never been this close to you. and knowing she has your undivided attention all to herself, she can't hold back any longer.

her chest bumps against yours as she slightly moves up, her hand reaching for your chin, holding it in between her thumb and bandaged index finger. you're forced to hold eye contact with her, her breath tickling your face. your chest doesn't even rise anymore, only falling lower and lower until the movement travels to your lower back.

it's hard to breathe and it's hard to think, you feel your eyes wander from her green eyes to her lips.

"do i have something on my lips?" ellie asks, while looking down on you.

"no?" you're confused, finally pulled out of trance. she tilts your head to the side, at which you sharply inhale.

"you're staring," ellie whispers into your neck, the sensation insinuates you to hold your breath. you see a smile creep up her face from the corner of your eye, your heartbeat must've dropped to your abdomen at this very sight. all your morals and values must have left you on this night, because you want nothing more than ellie. she always directs you to make the right decision, so you want to believe that she will stop you from pursuing your inappropriate thoughts. with your free hand you reach for the hem of ellie's t-shirt, holding onto it desperately.

"ellie," you say out of breath. something about the way you called for her name made her lose it all, the breathlessness, your voice, the feeling of your body under hers.

her narrowed eyes fill with desperation, hunger, and lust. the sight of you underneath her tingles on her fingertips, ready to roam your body.

ellie takes a deep breath, lifting your face by your chin. she observe your lips carefully as she traces the outlines with her thumb.

"can i?" ellie finally asks, her eyes nervously looking for a place to rest on. you look up to her through your lashes, your grip tightening on her t-shirt. she makes you feel so needed, so incredibly wanted. your mind tells you to put an end to this but the feeling growing in between your thighs can't be ignored any longer. you shut your eyes close, then take one more look at ellie.

her arms could hold you up without struggling, her hands look so sturdy, she could touch you just the way you need her to.

sharply inhaling, you nod, and a smile creeps up her face. and you still feel said smile as she presses her lips against yours.

you didn't know that such a gentle kiss left you eager for more, and you find your hands entangled in her hair, frantically holding onto ellie.

the way your hands speak for what's going on on your mind makes ellie's blood rush through her veins, the soft fabric of your top rubbing up against her arm drives her insane as your skin is exposed every now and then.

ellie's hands glide over your body as her lips devour you impatiently. the sensation of her fingertips linger and you can't keep up any longer. she wants more of you, sloppy kisses emphasise that her attention has shifted from your lips to your body.

you can't help but notice her t-shirt riding up every so often, abdomen exposed.

"fuck," ellie groans, your bottom lip tugged in between her teeth. her hands finally have found a place to rest, a little under your chest, cupping your breasts. her gentle eyes meet yours, pressing her lips to a thin line before speaking.

"can i take your shirt off?" ellie's voice is slightly raspy and it's just enough to worsen the pressure in between your thighs. you squeeze them tightly, earning raised eyebrows from ellie.

"only if you take yours off too," you shoot back, because you can't be doing the wrong thing one-sidedly. however, didn't you want to end things with your girlfriend? she was practically an ex by now, you would've told her soon enough.

ellie sits up, her inner thighs pressing against your waist.

"oh? then, take your bra off too," ellie says, as she trails kisses on your neck, hot, slow and wet. you slightly arch your neck while biting down a moan. this is getting too heated for your own comfort and you can see yourself making noises only a few instances away, this needs to stop.

but ellie keeps on sucking, biting and licking your neck, making it impossible to keep quiet. and to make matters worse, she pushes her thigh all the way up against your aching spot, resulting you to softly moan.

"shit, didn't know texting your girlfriend back included moaning for me," ellie spits, the bitter taste of her fury still hasn't left her tongue. you're taken aback by her words but the sensation on your neck is keeping you in a trance you can't break away from. ellie's had enough of waiting, so she switches position with you, making you sit on top of her lap. she lifts your t-shirt, every inch of exposed skin is followed by hungry kisses until the shirt is off of you. you don't necessarily like sitting on top, too many vulnerable spots to be explored. ellie's rough hands glide down the sides of your upper body until they comfortably rest above your hips. her fingers graze over your body making breathing impossible, you feel it all the way down your lower abdomen.

and as if her big sturdy hands roaming over your body wasn't enough, she reaches for your back, undoing your bra with one hand.

you watch her smirk cockily as the straps of your bra fall to the sides, exposing your shoulders, and more importantly your chest. ellie bites down her lip as she cups your breasts, giving them a good, firm squeeze before locking eyes with you.

"you're tits look so fucking perfect," she groans, letting the palm of her hand brush against your hard nipples while ellie feels your hips tilt to the back at the touch of your skin, back arched for a moment only. she then pinches them and teases you even more, so you try to stop her and you reach out for her hand. however, you mistakenly grab her tattooed forearm, grasping it firmly to push her away from you. ellie chuckles at your unfortunate attempt to break away from her.

"you want them inside of you?" she teases, while breathing hot air onto your nipples. your eyes widen in surprise, when have you implied that? you suddenly feel heat creep up your neck, panic written all over your face. in response, ellie points to the forearm you've been digging your nails into.

"oh," you say, rapidly drawing your hands in.

"no, it's fine," she says while putting your arms around her, lifting you slightly up to lay you on her bed. her fingers are hooked on your waistband while taking your pants off. you've never seen anyone look this hot taking pants off, loose hair strands covering her face, you can't tell her facial expression.

all you see is her muscular shoulders and arms flexing while she undresses you.

you realise that wearing grey underwear will be the death of you as you hear ellie laugh lowly. you sense her blowing hot air against your clit, oh god is she a tease, you think to yourself.

"so fucking wet and i haven't even touched you? would love to hear your girlfriend's opinion on this," ellie scoffs, while observing the hot mess you are.

"ellie, for fucks sake i'm—"

"you're what?" eyebrows raised, hands resting on your thighs. you take a deep breath. talking about this while you're about to do it is not just incredibly anticlimactic but also immensely nerve wrecking. her eyes are like a ticking bomb, the longer you keep her waiting the more the disappointment grows, her gentle eyes turning tired.

"i'm ending things with her," you finally say.

"you surely will after today," ellie responds, her fingertip firmly pressing on your clit, only fabric separating her from your skin.

you gasp and your stomach rises almost immediately at the pressure you feel, causing you to squeeze your thighs tightly together. however, ellie slips her rough hand in between them, mouthing an 'open' towards your direction which you deemed useless since ellie opened your legs forcibly on her own. she holds one of your thighs down while pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your throbbing, wet clit. she holds two fingers out, gliding them over you to moisturise them before sliding them inside of you. the sensation of her fingers inside of you causes you to arch your back, throw back your head and dig your nails into her scalp.

"easy, love," she whispers, her fingers curved inside of you. ellie starts off slow, with every thrust you exhale shortly, until they turn into soft moans. her unexpectedly breathing against your clit makes you go insane, you feel the sensation give you goosebumps all over you body.

your body leaves ellie mesmerised, the way you move at her touch worsens her need to keep you all to herself, to devour you. she never imagined you to be this gorgeous, this attractive. she wants more of you and desperately wants the taste of you on her tongue. and not a second later, ellie made up her mind, she adjusts herself and pulls your panties further to the side, having full view of you.

"gorgeous," she mutters before crashing onto your clit, letting her tongue slowly slide to the top before making her way back down again. you pull at her hair in reaction, your other hand gripping her bed sheets. ellie moves the tip of her tongue up and down before tugging your clit in between her lips softly, sucking it in.

your moans become shaky and her sucking becomes more intense. you feel your whole body tense up as she presses her parted lips lightly around you, her tongue slowly flicking your clit inside of her mouth. she then lets go of you, you hold your breath.

you're numbed by the sensation and can't tell what's going on, you either feel her fingers pump inside of you or her tongue absolutely devouring you. you can't keep up any longer and ellie doesn't even leave space for a moment to breathe or think, you only feel, and that deeply.

all you hear are the wet noises you make against ellie's tongue and her grunts that unexpectedly turn you on. nails digging into her hair, back arched to the ceiling and your mind so far gone that all your responses to ellie's teasing questions are mindless moans, you feel her push even harder inside of you, causing you to jolt. ellie grins onto your clit as she notices your throbbing take on a slow, rhythmic pace, your insides clasping around her fingers in said rhythm. your hips move in circles, you desperately want to come, you've never felt this good.

and ellie keeps her thrusts consistent, just as the movement of her tongue, only increasing the speed of it. the taste of you sends her to another dimension, she already knows that this will leave her hungry for more. and so your back shoots up, forcing your hip all the way down and clutching around ellie's fingers, a sharp, but loud moan escaping your mouth. content with her work, ellie plants a kiss on your clit, your body shuddering in response. she slowly removes her fingers, your body shivers once more.

you're still in a haze, but ellie hovering over you pulls you out of it, her glistening lips are mesmerising. you see her lose strands sticking to her forehead, a few pearls of sweat on her well built arms. ellie observes your eyes, the way you look so gorgeous in the dimmed light worries her that she might do more.

"good job," she whispers into your neck, goosebumps spreading across your skin. you mutter a 'thank you' which makes you realise you're thanking her for all the wrong reasons. she lays down beside you and holds her right arm out, suggesting you to rest your head on it. you scoot closer, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathes.

"thank you for... the past few days," you say quietly into her chest. ellie scoffs shortly, raises her right arm to the back of your head and pats you. only now you notice that she has taken her shirt off, you don't recall that happening but you surely don't mind the view. you then feel ellie reach out for something, your phone in her hand.

"now text your girlfriend back and make sure to let her know that i'm here."

a/n: hello sorry for taking so long to update, was busy with exams, i was on renee rapp's concert as well (she's so attractive oh god) and yes. enjoy my first attempt at smut :)

[vidavalor]

The Kiss

There is a big something that I think might be missing in discussion of The Final 15 that could not only help to explain the finale but also help to answer the following common question:

How could Crowley & Aziraphale really be long-time lovers when the kiss is awkward and Aziraphale's response, in particular, could be taken as indicative of the opposite?

There is an answer. To see it involves asking these questions:

What, exactly, do Crowley and Aziraphale each thing is happening in The Final 15... and what are their plans to stop it that they are trying (and failing) to convey to one another?

Those plans-- Crowley's, in particular? They will show you how the show that is no stranger to the art of prestidigitation is showing basically the worst kiss imaginable between two beings who have been lovers for millennia and just how, exactly, that's possible with what their narrative magic trick led you to think you saw.

Grab a drink and c'mon in. We're going to reverse-engineer The Final 15 and, if you're anything like the people I've already shown this to, you might look at both the kiss and the ending of S2 in a whole new romantic light as a result...

The most common question and comment that I have received is always how it is that I can see Crowley and Aziraphale as very old lovers when the kiss in 2.06, to some people, tells a different story.

Very often this question comes not from people who don't want them to be old lovers but from people who do-- especially people who like my ideas about The Vavoom that Crowley spends half of S2 going on about being their first kiss or who agree with the idea that the ancient Rome scene and its highly euphemistic oysters is meant to suggest the first time Crowley and Aziraphale went to bed together. They agree with the zillions of little suggestions of Crowley and Aziraphale having been lovers in secret for millennia but they are thrown by the only kiss to date being that admittedly very painful to watch one with a reaction out of Aziraphale that is borderline devastated. If they've been a couple for ages, as a hundred different moments suggest, how can we square that with this kiss?

I've given this answer, in bits and pieces, to a few people and they all have been in agreement that it makes sense, answers those above questions, and actually also makes all of the end of S2 a bit more romantic, if still sad. Hopefully, if that's what you're looking for, it will do that for you, too. This is a very long post but if everyone's reading epic fic around the kiss, why not a meta, right? There are chocolate cookies. *passes the tray*

TWs: Satan's attacks on Crowley-- the possession-as-rape-analogy in Good Omens; PTSD; anxiety.

To understand both what's going on The Final 15 and why the kiss is... that kiss... we have to first understand just what it is that Crowley and Aziraphale think is happening in this scene.

There are a lot of distractions thrown in everywhere and, as I've looked around, I haven't seen anyone talk yet about what Crowley thinks is happening, in particular... because it's not just his worry about Aziraphale and the Supreme Archangel job. It's not really actually that at all-- and the show told us (and only us) that back near the start of 2.01.

In the beginning of the season, we are shown that Crowley is freaked out about The Book of Life. It doesn't actually matter in S2 if The Book of Life is real or not. All that matters is that Crowley becomes convinced that it is. This fear that Aziraphale could be written out of it and made to have never existed is then driving Crowley's behavior all season...

...but only we the audience know that. Why does that matter?

Because it explains a lot of the communication gaps happening between the main four characters that are actually what cause The Final 15 to unfold the way it does and what are, therefore, kind of responsible for that blasted kiss being the way it is.

So, we have to look at those miscommunications first, in order to understand how Crowley arrives at a plan he does to stop Aziraphale from being Book of Life'd and what that plan has to do with the kiss. It's not actually something in anyone's mouth-- it's something I haven't seen anyone bring up yet that actually also ties the whole season together. Right, so, the miscommunications and why Crowley hasn't told anyone by 2.06 about how he's freaked out about The Book of Life...

While Crowley is advocating that people talk to one another-- that feeding your fellow metaphorical ducks your metaphorical frozen peas, as he tells Shax in 2.01-- is the way forward, he's holding back on his own frozen peas where The Book of Life is concerned. Despite being open about his emotions with Aziraphale, he doesn't tell him about this all season. Crowley's heart is in the right place for doing so but he's made a *huge* error in judgement in withholding this information from Aziraphale. Why is Crowley making that big mistake when he normally wouldn't with Aziraphale?

It's because of how he learned of the threat of The Book of Life and how that relates to what Aziraphale is going through in S2.

Aziraphale is struggling to deal with the feeling that Heaven has abandoned him. Until Gabriel showed up at the shop, no one from Heaven has spoken to Aziraphale in the years between S1 and S2. He wants Heaven to fuck off but he's also embarrassed by how easily they seem to have been able to do so. Crowley knows what it feels like to feel like Heaven has thrown you over and he's trying to be a sensitive partner to Aziraphale. He can't stand how Heaven has made his angel feel and he's not keen on making it worse by telling Aziraphale more than is absolutely necessary regarding any interactions with Hell that Crowley is having.

In reality, Heaven hasn't actually abandoned Aziraphale-- not entirely. Gabriel and Beez are on Crowley and Aziraphale's side but they haven't told them that. Because of the events of the end of S1, Gabriel and Beez think that Crowley and Aziraphale wouldn't want to talk to them and they also think that all four of them could be in danger if they were caught interacting. They think the best way to protect Crowley and Aziraphale is to pretend as much as possible like they don't exist. This is easier for Gabriel to get away with in Heaven than it is for Beez to get away with in Hell.

The top angels don't care about the bookshop and see being assigned to Earth as beneath them. They're all jockeying for power and focused on Armageddon so none of them are bugging Gabriel about Aziraphale's ambassador job and the embassy bookshop that they presume is just going to be destroyed during Armageddon anyway. Gabriel can get away with protecting Aziraphale by just not doing anything about him or the bookshop whatsoever. Beez, though, is in a tighter position.

The higher-ranked demons all want to get the hell out of there and escape to Earth and Crowley had one of the most plum jobs in Hell. Beez is under a lot of pressure to fire and replace him. They manage to kick the can down the road as much as possible-- probably using the pandemic lockdowns and how there were fewer people out to tempt as an excuse-- until they get to a point where they have to replace Crowley or risk being seen as a traitor themselves, which would put all four of them in danger and would have been abandoning Gabriel, which Beez couldn't do.

So, Beez sends the one annoying them the most about the job-- Shax-- to take over Crowley's position, which also means kicking Crowley out of the Hell-owned flat he had in Mayfair. Beez doesn't actually want to do this. Note how when they talk to Crowley in Hell in S2, they say that they could put a price on his head anytime... but we know that they haven't and it's been four years. They don't really wish him any harm, they just felt they had to pretend like they do in Hell to stay alive. Beez and Gabriel have been doing the best they can to protect Crowley and Aziraphale and they think that, while it is obviously not great that they've had to take Crowley's flat, it's not a total disaster because Gabriel can make sure that the bookshop remains in Aziraphale's hands and doesn't Crowley basically live in the bookshop with Aziraphale anyway?

Gabriel and Beez aren't exactly wrong about Crowley basically living in the bookshop-- but they aren't exactly right about it, either. We are shown that Crowley, for all intents and purposes, does basically live in the bookshop. They both get "plenty of use" out of it, don't they? It's the reason why Aziraphale doesn't notice that Crowley has lost his flat-- Crowley is just there in the shop with him, in what is basically their home, every night until the pre-dawn hours, when he slips out of the side door because they're still trying not to be caught.

Ironically? It's not just Satan and The Metatron but Gabriel and Beez that Crowley and Aziraphale don't want to find out that they're a couple because they don't know that Gabriel and Beez actually have already known forever and are on their side. They don't know that Gabriel and Beez have been trying to protect them from Satan and The Metatron. Ahead of S2, Crowley and Aziraphale see Beez and Gabriel as threats when, in reality, the reason why they've been getting away with their relationship for so long is because Ineffable Bureaucracy already knows, ships it, and doesn't think it's any of their business.

Because no one's talking to each other here about this stuff, though, Aziraphale doesn't know he has Gabriel in his corner. He's understandably very sensitive about the fact that no one in Heaven seems to give a fuck about him. He doesn't want Heaven to be bugging them but he's also embarrassed by how easily Heaven has thrown him over-- a very hard pill to swallow after Aziraphale has spent so many years denying himself the full life he wants because of Heaven.

No angels have shown up in the bookshop in four years to formally fire Aziraphale and try to claim the bookshop, which is, technically, an angelic space. To Aziraphale, this means that he's so inconsequential that Heaven couldn't even be bothered to acknowledge his existence. In reality, no angels have because Gabriel is a fan of both Aziraphale and the bookshop and has been making sure that no one hurts either... but he hasn't told Aziraphale that and, because of what happens to Gabriel in S2, he actually is incapable of doing so because his memories are missing. So, all of this is exacerbating Aziraphale's already high anxiety and depression in S2.

Crowley sees and understands Aziraphale's feelings over Heaven and he doesn't want to make it worse. He can't stand seeing Aziraphale in pain so, while he's open about other emotions and goings on, he keeps from Aziraphale any interactions that he has with Hell.

He's doing so because he thinks it will embarrass Aziraphale even more if he finds out that even Hell cared about Crowley and his demonic job performance enough that they thought enough of him to actually fire and replace him. This is why Crowley keeps from Aziraphale the information that Shax has taken his job and flat-- and the far more important information that Beez reached out to him, asked for his help, and convinced him of the threat of The Book of Life.

All Aziraphale does know about Crowley's interactions with Hell during S2 is that he knows that Crowley is meeting Shax for information (Crowley's "you'll never guess who Shax asked me about" to Aziraphale in 2.01.). Crowley has told Aziraphale this because he has no other choice. The two of them need a source in Heaven or Hell to give them information on whether or not Heaven or Hell is planning on coming after them and when Armageddon: Round Two might be getting going. Telling Aziraphale this was bad enough, as far is Crowley is concerned, because it alone is causing Aziraphale embarrassment.

Aziraphale is mortified that Crowley needs to be the one of the two of them to provide the source. He sees it as a failure to protect Crowley because he thinks it would be safer for Crowley if they had a source in Heaven and he's embarrassed by the fact that no one in Heaven will talk to him. This theme of Aziraphale feeling like he's failing Crowley and isn't able to fully protect him carries into The Final 15 and is why Aziraphale is (quite literally) tempted by the (really non-existent) job offer.

What this means, though, is that Crowley's decision to not tell Aziraphale about his concerns about The Book of Life because it would mean telling him about his interaction with Beez means that Crowley's usual sounding board of Aziraphale is, in Crowley's mind, not an option for all of S2. The person who usually helps calm his anxiety is someone that Crowley has decided he can't talk to without triggering their anxiety when, in reality, it actually would have made Aziraphale feel a thousand times better if Crowley had gone to him with this.

Because Crowley trusts few people, if he doesn't have Aziraphale to talk to about his fears, he doesn't have a lot of other options. Humans and Shax are obviously out, as is Beez, whom Crowley thinks still believes it to be true. When Crowley brings it up to Gabriel, he doesn't actually say "The Book of Life" at any point. He growls that Aziraphale is "risking his existence" for Gabriel, which is really, from Gabriel's perspective, just another way of saying "risking his life."

While Jim didn't have his memories and so couldn't really offer Crowley any counsel about it, Gabriel probably knows whether or not The Book of Life is real or not... he just has no idea, based on how Crowley phrased it, that Crowley is concerned about it. He probably could have told Crowley that it isn't real in 2.06 if Crowley had actually talked to him about it but Crowley didn't let him in enough and that fucks The Final 15, too. When Gabriel gets his memories back in 2.06, he doesn't say anything to Crowley about The Book of Life because he doesn't even know it's an issue... only we do. We are shown it so that we know where Crowley's mind is at and can use that to help interpret what's happening in 2.06.

So, what do all these miscommunications have to do with Crowley's plan and The Kiss?

Honestly? Everything...

Believing in The Book of Life is Crowley's main concern throughout the whole season and, because Crowley got the information that led to his fear of The Book of Life from Beez, he has decided it's not something about which he can tell Aziraphale. This results in Aziraphale having absolutely no idea what Crowley believes the threat is during The Final 15. It is a big part of why they fail to understand what one another is saying... and it's a *very* big part of how that kiss ended up so awkward, despite Crowley and Aziraphale actually being long-time lovers, as you'll see as we talk below about just what Crowley was planning on doing about this threat of The Book of Life.

Crowley is convinced that the dude who shows up with coffee in 2.06 is The Metatron. Because he thinks it's The Metatron, Crowley now thinks that The Metatron is trying to lure Aziraphale to Heaven to write his name out of The Book of Life and make it so that the love of Crowley's life has never existed and Crowley. is. terrified. of this happening...

Is he just going to stand by and watch it happen, though?

Of course not. Crowley always has a plan. So, what's Crowley's plan?

If you were Crowley and you believed in the threat of non-existence via The Book of Life, based on what he (and we) have seen in the story so far, what would you think you could do to save Aziraphale?

Crowley knows that he can't actually prevent The Metatron from trying to erase Aziraphale. He knows they're basically trapped and that he might not be able to stop Aziraphale from going with The Metatron, willingly or unwillingly, because The Metatron seems to have boxed them into a corner a bit here. So, presuming that Aziraphale's name will get erased, how does Crowley put into motion prior to that happening a plan to save Aziraphale from no longer existing if The Metatron erases his name?

And how does he do all of that right under The Metatron's nose, with almost no time to spare?

If your first answer is that they need to get all of Aziraphale's Aziraphaleness out of the body named 'Aziraphale' before The Metatron erases that name from The Book of Life, that is a start... that is the first phase of a plan... but it's not all of it because that would just solve one part of the problem. It's why The Fly isn't really the full answer here and there's another thing happening.

Crowley is thinking that he needs to protect Aziraphale in a way similar to how Beez protected Gabriel, in that he needs to help Aziraphale see the risk and to separate his mind from his body, the way that Gabriel was able to do to elude The Metatron and escape from Heaven just a few days before... but there is one, big issue with this threat of The Book of Life that is different from Gabriel's situation:

Gabriel still had his body.

By using Beez's fly, Gabriel was able to separate his mind and his body enough to be able to use his body to take his mind to the bookshop and, ultimately, save both parts of himself. It's because he was able to pull that off that Crowley and Beez were able to help him reunite his mind with his body by opening The Fly, right?

This doesn't fully work if the threat is The Book of Life, as Crowley believes it is to Aziraphale. Why not? Because Aziraphale's body will have been made to have never existed.

They can get Aziraphale's mind out of his body before he's erased and save his essence but, unlike with Gabriel's situation, there won't be a body to put that essence back into once the threat has passed, right?

So, Crowley knows that his plan needs to account for that. There has to be a way to not just save Aziraphale's mind from The Book of Life but to ensure that his angel's body can be kept from non-existence, too.

So, how is Crowley not just going to save Aziraphale's mind but his body so that Crowley can... *sigh* wait for it...

...restore his friend, Aziraphale, to full angelic status...

...when the threat of The Book of Life has passed?

What is one thing that exists in Good Omens that we have seen-- and so has Crowley-- that could solve the problem of both Aziraphale's mind and body in the face of a threat of The Book of Life?

It's in figuring out how to save Aziraphale's body that Crowley sees how to save all of him. How to save Aziraphale's body?

Crowley knows a guy. So do we. His name is Adam.

Crowley's thinking that, if they can get Aziraphale's mind out of Aziraphale's body the way that Beez and Gabriel did for Gabriel, that, so long as they have a fly of sorts in which to store all of Aziraphale's Aziraphaleness for a bit until after The Metatron erases Aziraphale's name from The Book of Life, they can then, once the threat has passed, drive to Tadfield and get Adam to regenerate Aziraphale's body. From there, they just pop Aziraphale's mind back into said body and ta-da! Aziraphale has eluded The Book of Life.

So, there are just a few hiccups to Crowley's plan here... namely, the fact that Beez is gone so they don't have the option of one of their flies and, even if they did, there's no way that The Metatron is going to leave them alone long enough for Aziraphale to actually extract his memories safely into one.

They are going to have do something like The Fly but that isn't exactly The Fly... and they're going to have to do it right under The Metatron's nose. Right in front of him, without him knowing, and within the few moments after Aziraphale returns to the bookshop...

...or else, Crowley believes, Aziraphale is going to die.

There is only one option left and it is the stuff of Crowley's nightmares:

He will need to be Aziraphale's fly.

To save Aziraphale from The Book of Life, Crowley thinks that Aziraphale will have to possess him.

If Aziraphale possesses him, Aziraphale will become Crowley.

He will be safe in Crowley and they can send the Jimbriel-like shell of Aziraphale left in Aziraphale's body with The Metatron to be erased. They can then get in The Bentley and drive to Tadfield, get Adam to regenerate Aziraphale's body, and they can put Aziraphale back into Aziraphale's own body.

They have no time and no other option for a fly and this is the only way. It also happens to be the thing that terrifies Crowley the most because, while he knows that Aziraphale will never hurt him, Crowley has been attacked in this way by Satan before and this is not something he and Aziraphale do. Aziraphale has Crowley-- body, heart and soul-- but his mind is a red line that neither of them have any desire to cross. They don't see it as healthy because it's unnecessarily triggering for Crowley and Aziraphale has zero interest in doing anything that worsens Crowley's PTSD.

Even if Aziraphale had understood this plan when Crowley presented it-- and we'll look at how he does that in a moment-- it's unlikely that Aziraphale would have done it, even with the express consent that Crowley was giving him. The risk to his own life wouldn't have mattered to Aziraphale more than the possibility of causing Crowley harm. How do we know that?

Because, back in S1, when Aziraphale was discorporated in Heaven, the world was also about to end. He needed to get to Tadfield to help Crowley stop it. The only way to do that in that moment was to possess somebody. With eight billion people and every living thing on Earth at risk, Aziraphale's solution to this problem did not even really include asking for the option of possessing Crowley. He makes a joke about not having a body limiting his ability to "inhabit" Crowley's that is sexual innuendo, not a request to hitch a ride to Tadfield in his mind.

He then sets about telling Crowley that he is searching for "a receptive body," as Aziraphale put it-- meaning, for someone who would consent to being possessed, because non-consensual possession is the supernatural equivalent to rape, as the show has been using as an allegory since its first episode. Aziraphale was not willing to possess anybody who wasn't consenting to it because he's obviously not a rapist. What the scene also shows, though, is that Aziraphale considered the idea of possessing Crowley such a non-starter of a plan that he was looking for literally anybody else on Earth who was willing to be his ride to Tadfield rather than go anywhere near the idea of an action that they both knew would be unhealthy for Crowley.

If Aziraphale hadn't found Madame Tracy, he would have just kept looking, even if it ran out the clock. He was willing to let the world burn rather than possess Crowley-- even if Crowley consented-- back in S1. There is some foreshadowing of possession being part of the 2.06 plot earlier in S2 when Aziraphale discovers that he has basically accidentally quasi-possessed Crowley to an extent when he was driving The Bentley by not realizing that Crowley has essentially psychically linked himself to the car.

Aziraphale was joking around in making the car a sexual metaphor for Crowley and bemusing himself by having the car be increasingly more like how Crowley is privately than how he presents himself to the outside world. He changes the car to the color of Crowley's eyes-- having it take off its black and silver glasses. The car brings him little treats, plays the music he feels like listening to, responds positively to some tongue-in-cheek, playful, soft domming, etc... Aziraphale thought this was purely a metaphor until Crowley told him that he could feel everything that Aziraphale was doing to the car.

Crowley hadn't told Aziraphale prior to Aziraphale leaving that he was linked to his car in that way and, when Aziraphale realizes that his humorous, little mischief is actually the result of being tied a little to Crowley's mind, Aziraphale immediately backs off of what he was doing. We later see him ask The Bentley for music on the way back from Edinburgh and he doesn't make any changes to the car for the rest of the trip. He's aware that he freaked Crowley out by sort-of being in his mind a little, as it was never his intention to do so.

It's likely that, even if Aziraphale had been able to understand what Crowley was trying to say with his plan for Aziraphale to possess him in 2.06, that he simply would not have done it. That doesn't change the fact, though, that Crowley has arrived at possession as the only way to stop The Book of Life and that it's the core of his plan.

So, the other hiccups to Crowley's plan... how does Crowley convince The Metatron that he just is watching romance and nothing else? How does he tell Aziraphale this plan... and how do they pull it off with The Metatron watching them?

First is that Crowley needs The Metatron to think that he has nothing but romance on the brain. He doesn't trust that Muriel-- who is super-excited to be singled out for a possible role by The Metatron-- won't tell The Metatron everything he's said the moment that they leave the shop. Crowley says aloud in front of them something that is both true and a lie at once-- that he thinks that, when Aziraphale "comes back", that they need to go for "an extremely alcoholic breakfast at The Ritz." Crowley does really want to do this and it's arguable that when he says "comes back", knowing his plan as we are seeing it here, he really means "comes back" from all of this Book of Life stuff, but he phrases it in such a way that Muriel, if they repeat it to The Metatron, will make it sound like Crowley is literally thinking of nothing but a boozy brunch date.

Next, Crowley knows that he'll need to speak uninterrupted for a couple of moments about something that The Metatron can hear on the surface but that is really using their hidden language to convey this possession plan to Aziraphale under the surface.

Later in the scene, when Crowley says "no nightingales" to Aziraphale as everything else is falling apart, he's trying to say: you didn't hear the coded things I was saying... but, in the most romantic of *sob of frustration* things ever, that same word also happens to just mean their love for one another, which is what their whole secret language really is about in the first place... So, Aziraphale actually winds up hearing: you don't love me instead.

Back when Crowley was formulating this plan, though? He was sure that he could get Aziraphale to understand him by using their nightingales-y Ineffable Husbands Speak because not like that hasn't been working for them for the last few thousand years or anything! Rare is the day that they don't know what each other means in it so Crowley thinks it will work.

Crowley also knows how to solve the last challenge of this plan, which is that the effects of possession or any influence miracle can be visible to outsiders. We've seen that it can cause observable changes on someone's face. This means that Crowley and Aziraphale will need a way of keeping that contained from The Metatron's view.

Crowley has a plan... as foreshadowed (unfortunately lol) by this bit earlier in the season:

Crowley's plan is that they can cover Aziraphale possessing him if Aziraphale kisses him when he does it.

Before I go on... stop and think about that for a second.

If Crowley's plan to save Aziraphale's life is dependent upon Aziraphale kissing him, there is absolutely zero chance that this would be the first time that they've ever kissed. Crowley would never come up with a plan that was reliant upon Aziraphale kissing him if kissing him wasn't something Aziraphale didn't already regularly do and with which he had no issue.

Ok, so, what this means then is that Crowley needs to be saying something in Ineffable Husbands Speak that sounds, on the surface, like something that he could be reasonably saying so that The Metatron won't be suspicious, even if The Metatron finds it abhorrent. It needs to be something that Crowley thinks can lead directly towards Aziraphale kissing him, once Aziraphale hears the coded speech and understands the plan and that Crowley is consenting to it.

For the first time, they aren't using the hidden language as a smokescreen for their relationship but for a plan. The cant that is designed to hide their romantic relationship being the idea that they're enemies when they're speaking in public is now going to be used sort of backwards from its original purpose. They're speaking openly about their romance in front of The Metatron and using that romance that they usually try to keep hidden as a distraction from the plans to elude Heaven and Hell that they're really using the language to convey to one another. (We'll talk about Aziraphale's plan in just a moment.)

So, how do we know this? Let's start looking at a bit of the plan-conveying dialogue...

Crowley's plan is possession, right? If I asked you to name the single most overt bit of innuendo in Good Omens-- stuff that isn't really even coded-- you are probably going to tell me that it's Crowley and Aziraphale turning talk of possession into overt sexual innuendo with the "receptive body... harder than you think" and "I'm not going to go there" comments in S1, right?

The reasons why this is *so* direct in S1 are two-fold. The first reason is just to help emphasize the possession-as-sex allegory that is happening but the second reason is because the series needs us to see that possession-as-sex allegory exists not just thematically but between Crowley and Aziraphale. We need to see them speak about possession in this way so that, when we eventually get to S2's Final 15, we already know that Crowley and Aziraphale talk about possession in a highly-sexualized way and can then understand what they're saying more subtly in coded language as a result.

For example...

We've known each other a long time. We've been on THIS PLANET for a long time. I mean, you and me.

Known: contains own, which means possession; know, which is an old, Biblical, sexual euphemism for sex that Crowley uses in multiple scenes, and the word now.

THIS PLANET (practically shouted, for emphasis): this is the plan.

For a long time: redistributed, this is all onto me. For is also por in Spanish. Homophone: pour. Pour it all onto me.

I mean, you and me: The word mean comes from the same root as the word mind. "I mean" = "my mind." This is why Crowley says "I mean" several times during this scene when he normally doesn't say it much at all. "You and me" is said so quickly that it comes out sounding like "you in me", especially when his quick hand gesture is reinforcing it and looks like a drink, reinforcing the alcohol/coffee-as-sex vibe. "I mean, you and me" is also "I'm me, and you in me," referring to what he's trying to have happen.

The first lines of the proposal, when Crowley tries it, amount to: This is the plan: You need to weave us together, angel. Possess me.

Take my mind. Do it now.

This is really why he looks like he's going to pass out or throw up. He's not confessing love for Aziraphale. He's not even, truly, asking Aziraphale to marry him, even if that's what it sounds like. He's terrified that Aziraphale is going to die and he thinks the only way out of this is for Aziraphale to take over his mind, which, even though Crowley trusts Aziraphale, is the most frightening thing he can imagine, shy of losing Aziraphale. Crowley being wide-eyed and shallowly breathing here? That's not cute confession or proposal butterflies. That's terror and anxiety. He's trying to stave off an anxiety attack because, in his mind, if he doesn't, it could mean Aziraphale's life.

Every single line of Crowley's proposal is reinforcing this idea. It is just attempting to rephrase it in different ways... over and over. Every single line is basically a different way of saying this same thing. Look at the next ones...

I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a group. Group of the two of us...

Rely, from the verb ligare, meaning to tie or knot together; also: to lay down or to lay. He's proposing that they, well, tie the knot as a cover for knotting the two of them together via the possession to save Aziraphale. A team, a group... These are singular words that describe multiple people. It's again saying: knot us together, possess me, make us one person. A group of the two of us. They'd be a group-- a singular thing-- made up of the two of them. Additionally? Team contains tea, group contains rou, homophone: roux, and a grouper is a kind of fish. Tea, sauce, and fish = three different sexually euphemistic things in Ineffable Husbands Speak, underscoring the fact that Crowley is basically just saying: SEX, ANGEL. DO THE THING THAT IS LIKE SEX RIGHT NOW OR YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.

It's the fanfic season. An unique take on 'fuck or die' was inevitable, no? 🤭

There are two moments in what Crowley says where he tries to reference The Book of Life to help Aziraphale understand what he's saying when it has become evident that Aziraphale does not. (We'll look at why and also at what Aziraphale is trying to tell Crowley that Crowley is not getting in a second.) I'm going to point them out because they help to reinforce this possession plan theory. The first is when Crowley says "our existence" and the second is what he says in intentionally mispronouncing Beez's name.

As mentioned, because of Crowley's own actions throughout the season, Aziraphale has no fucking idea that Crowley is so worked up about The Book of Life and, maybe more telling? Aziraphale himself is not really concerned about it, despite Michael threatening him with it a moment earlier. We'll see what Aziraphale thinks is going on below but he's not worried about The Book of Life, which helps to suggest that Crowley was correct back in 2.01 and this thing, the way that he and Beez think it exists? Doesn't really exist.

It suggests that, had Crowley actually talked to Aziraphale about The Book of Life at one point during the past week-- had he told him about what Beez said to him and how he wasn't sure if his memories were correct-- that Aziraphale's response would have been all oh, honey, don't worry-- you were right. That's not real.

Yeah, I'm saying that Crowley has built an entire plan around a threat that he once made up in his mind as a by-product of his own fears about Heaven because...

That's what anxiety is.

Even if it turns out to not be the case? The point would still stand that Crowley anxiety'd himself into this plan because he didn't talk to Aziraphale about what he was feeling and how that led to disaster.

But, back to the dialogue...

The real reason why Aziraphale isn't hearing "existence" when Crowley says it and thinking "The Book of Life" is because Crowley says "existence" for life all the damn time because our demon thinks he can't really have a life, just an existence, since he's damned. Here's Crowley using "existence" to describe his precious, peaceful, if fragile, life with Aziraphale back in 2.01:

So, Aziraphale's mind is not exactly going to jump to The Book of Life when he hears Crowley use "existence" in 2.06. The sentence that hurts Aziraphale-- "and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't"-- actually is a little different in Ineffable Husbands Speak. Tending means to take care of, which is also how Crowley was also using it in 1941's "you tend to see sea things." We aren't = we are knot. To the outside world, they've pretended that they're not a couple but they haven't been pretending that with one another for their whole existence.

(If you go full Mr. Harmony and look at little closer at what Crowley is mouthing after his conversation with Nina in the street about his and Aziraphale's relationship, he actually appears to be mouthing that other word Nina just said-- "life"/"lives"-- and not "love"... speaking of scenes that are designed to mislead the audience... 😉 It's not an oh moment-- it's Crowley thinking of the topic of life that is plaguing him all week-- their own existence and The Book of Life. How could it be an oh moment? This demon had a contact phone image for Aziraphale back in S1 that was hearts being consumed by flames. I think he's caught onto the fact that he's in love with him by now...)

Anyway, as Crowley grows more desperate to convey the plan in 2.06, he employs Gabriel and Beez's names as part of the coded language. Gabriel's name means "messenger" so, to say it while wording, is to say "message." The most important part, though, is Crowley's intentional mispronunciation of Beez's name. He's genuinely crying, which is what both allows for the cover of him saying it incorrectly, but is then also what makes it so Aziraphale isn't sure what he's hearing because Crowley will slur his sibilant sounds when distressed, if not usually in this particular way.

Crowley says Beez's name like this: "Be ale je bub." Je in French is I while bub is short for bubbly, or champagne. (Dark mirror of S1 anyone? They should be toasting each other at The Ritz right now, dammit...) Bees = angels, per Crowley in the prior episode, and he uses be as bee in the cant to mean angel in different scenes. This is saying Aziraphale is ale/beer to Crowley's champagne and they're combined together into one word: Beezlebub. Yes, it's a cocktail, which is probably how Aziraphale heard it, if he caught it (which is a bit of a debatable point) but that's actually not the word Crowley is trying to say. The word Crowley is trying to say is the one that who he believes is The Metatron used to refer to The Book of Life a few minutes earlier: balderdash.

While, today, balderdash refers to words and means utter nonsense, the original definition of it was a drink that combined two different types of alcohol. Crowley is actually trying use Beez's name to reference balderdash to Aziraphale and we can see how his mind would do that, right? Beez is who told him of The Book of Life threat... we get that but Aziraphale doesn't know so he won't get it... and balderdash is what the being Crowley thinks is The Metatron just said about The Book of Life. Crowley doesn't trust The Metatron so he's trying to say that he doesn't believe The Book of Life is balderdash and that's what's upsetting him, that's why he's in tears, because Aziraphale could be erased into non-existence.

By taking what they're each saying just on the surface, the two of them get so turned around that they wind up thinking they're trying to break up with one another. This becomes a huge problem for both of them because if they call it quits, they have to stop talking and if they have stop talking, they are out of ways to convey a plan.

Crowley eventually gets to a point of desperation because they've shifted towards a break up and to prolong it indefinitely while repeating different versions of the same thing is going to look suspicious and The Metatron might figure out what he's trying to do. Crowley needs a way to refer back to what he's already said during the proposal and try to get Aziraphale to see it as coded language.

So, Crowley winds up taking a risk. He says the word for their secret language aloud in conversation, hoping that The Metatron will just take it as a private reference and not coded speech, and that Aziraphale will hear that there is hidden language that he is missing:

The problem here is that nightingales also means their love for each other and Aziraphale doesn't see the reference to coded language that Crowley is trying to convey. Crowley is asking if Aziraphale can hear and pointing overhead, in a nod to the first formations of what would eventually become their coded speech with those other birds-- the crows of the Job minisode. He's speaking of the language but that language exists as a way that they love one another and their name for it is synonymous with that love and Crowley is saying this in a moment when they have both got this all so backwards that they are all but breaking up with one another.

So, in that context? Aziraphale hears, instead: you don't love me.

This is then why Aziraphale turns away and starts to cry, instead of being like ohhhhh! you were speaking in our vocabulary! let me just have a quick think back on what you were saying-- ah, ok, I get it! let me run over and possession-kiss you now!... which is what Crowley was trying to have happen.

Crowley, though, thinks that there's no way that Aziraphale could have heard him say nightingales and not thought it referred to hidden speech. He gives Aziraphale a second, in which he's thinking that he's now got Aziraphale thinking back on the proposal and understanding the plan.

In order for this plan to work, what still needs to happen? The thing to cover the possession, right? They need another opportunity for that so Crowley makes one.

He walks back and, as we all well know, he kisses Aziraphale.

He kisses Aziraphale not just because of the existing emotions of the idea of Aziraphale going to Heaven but because this is the last shot of there being a moment to do so that could cover the possession that could, in Crowley's mind, save Aziraphale's life. He kisses Aziraphale to give Aziraphale the chance to possess him, which Aziraphale, as we've mentioned, likely wouldn't do even if he understood this plan.

This is also why the kiss is terrible. It's why they barely move. It's why Crowley can't deepen it and it just doesn't go anywhere. The whole point of the kiss is to give Aziraphale the chance to use the kiss as cover to possess him so, by default? Crowley can't really do much here but wait out as long as is feasible before this just starts to look weird to even The Metatron lol. It's why he's not really kissing Aziraphale much at all and why he hangs on for the seven eternities of this kiss to give Aziraphale as much time as possible and why he stays nearby for a moment afterwards, hoping that it would have still just then clicked for Aziraphale, who could then jump back into his arms and kiss him to possess him.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale just has no idea why he's being kissed right now and he's just been through an emotional gauntlet. Four minutes ago, he thought Crowley wanted to marry him. Now, they're getting ineffably divorced. He's getting unexpectedly kissed when Crowley was about to leave. This is all not even yet counting in what is actually happening with Aziraphale and his side of this and what Crowley isn't hearing him say this whole time, either. All of those things very much account for Aziraphale's reaction to this kiss, as you'll see.

And still, what happens?

Aziraphale kisses Crowley a bit. He holds him closer. Because he can't not do either of those things. He doesn't know fully what's happening here but he knows he loves Crowley and that Crowley is very upset and he can't not try to comfort him. He doesn't know how to not kiss Crowley, even just a little, even as this is a complete and utter disaster of a thing that Aziraphale can't really fully parse out because he lacks the context to understand even why this kiss is happening right now, let alone with the fact that Crowley doesn't know what Aziraphale thinks is going on and the plan that Aziraphale is trying to convey that Crowley hasn't been hearing.

So... speaking of that! Wait until you see just how frustratingly similar a plan Aziraphale has, even if he thinks something totally different is happening...

As mentioned in other posts, there is a scene in 2.06 that says that Aziraphale spoke to The Metatron the night before after blowing up his halo. It happens here:

So, Aziraphale actually did tell The Metatron where he could stick it the night before. This means that Aziraphale spent the prior night after where we left him during the bookshop attack anticipating that The Metatron was going to tell Satan that Aziraphale was fair game. This is one of the big hints that we're actually watching Aziraphale's fall in S2 and that Coffee Dude is really Satan, who has taken on the appearance of The Metatron in order to tempt Aziraphale.

Thwarting Heaven is basically Aziraphale's part-time job, though, and he doesn't want to fall. He's not just going to accept this fate. He's worked up a plan to try to stop it from happening.

Aziraphale doesn't see demons as lesser beings-- he's in love with one of them. He doesn't want to fall because being a demon means that your soul belongs to Satan for all of eternity and Satan is a) Crowley's assailant and b) The Devil... so, Aziraphale's a bit of a hard pass on falling. It's awfully dark, cramped and violent down there and Aziraphale, having spent thousands of years as Crowley's partner, knows better than most how being a demon comes with a great deal of pain. It doesn't matter to our Marvelous Mr. Fell that no angel before him has ever managed to successfully escape falling. He's going to try.

Aziraphale knows that he can't control the actions of The Metatron or Satan. He has to assume that Satan will show up at his door and he knows he can't outrun him forever. Aziraphale also has humility enough to know that he has a history of trusting the wrong people for the right reasons... and that Satan is the trickiest motherfucker there is. Aziraphale knows that his plan to avoid becoming a demon will have to include the assumption that he will fall for Satan's temptation.

As a result? Aziraphale needs a failsafe.

He needs something that will prevent him from becoming a demon should he fail to resist Satan's temptation. Hell is coming for him and, if it all goes wrong? He needs a way to protect himself. Aziraphale needs, as Crowley once needed with holy water, a failsafe against Hell. He needs insurance.

What is the one thing that could keep an angel from becoming a demon? Even if they fall for Satan's temptation, what's the one thing that could make it so that if Heaven then tries to make them a demon and cast them to Hell, it wouldn't work?

It's a bit of a mindfuck-- literally-- but there's really only one thing.

The only way that an angel being tossed to Hell by Heaven would avoid becoming a demon is if they were already, temporarily, a demon. You can't fall if you're already fallen, can you?

So, how would Aziraphale temporarily become a demon?

Yeah. They have almost exactly the same plan.

Just the key, romantic difference of Crowley trying to offer Aziraphale his mind even though it terrifies him because he'd do anything to save him and Aziraphale trying to offer Crowley his to protect them both from the being who had hurt them by hurting Crowley in the first place.

Both of them know that the way to save each other and to keep the looming threats to Aziraphale at bay is if they love and protect each other and stay together but they can't get one another to hear each other saying that and think, instead, that the other wants to leave when what they both really want is to be together.

Aziraphale's plan to prevent is fall is to have Crowley possess him. If Crowley were to possess Aziraphale, then Mr. Fell would temporarily be fallen because Crowley would become Aziraphale. They'd be together, in Aziraphale's body, with Crowley controlling the possession. Should Aziraphale fall for the temptation, he still won't fall to Hell and become a demon because it won't work when Heaven tries it since the already-fallen Crowley is possessing him.

Pretty good plan, right? In the morning, it becomes a matter of being able to tell Crowley what happened with The Metatron and what this plan Aziraphale has come up with for dealing with it is.

The villains learned from S1, though, and they make sure that not only do Crowley and Aziraphale not have a whole night together to plan the way they did in S1 but that they don't have a moment together alone to speak freely for the entire rest of the season. Crowley is gone all night, held back from Aziraphale by Heaven, and Aziraphale's relief when he returns is palpable. He had worried that Crowley had been harmed and he also was terrified that he wouldn't come back since, without him, Aziraphale stood no chance of avoiding falling.

For the first few minutes of Crowley's return, Aziraphale thinks they still have a chance and isn't really focused on Satan arriving. He thinks if they can just sort out the Gabriel stuff and get all of these people out of the bookshop that he and Crowley can then have some time alone to speak to one another openly. Aziraphale very much wants to check that Crowley is alright after having been missing all night and to tell him what happened with The Metatron and get him on board with the plan. There never is time for this, though, because Satan shows up with the coffee before they ever have a moment alone.

The only alternative to it not being Satan is it being exactly what it appears to be-- The Metatron, apologetic, saying all the things that Aziraphale has always wanted Heaven to say. Aziraphale is not an idiot and has the feeling that this is not really The Metatron. He does want it to be The Metatron because Aziraphale is still feeling like he cannot provide the forgiveness of Heaven and the protection from Satan that Crowley needs. Aziraphale loves Crowley and all he wants is be able to end the pain in Crowley that he thinks he's not enough to stop.

What Aziraphale's own anxieties and insecurities try to tell him is a lie is what Crowley tells him, which is that that all Crowley truly needs is Aziraphale. Aziraphale's own anger and pain over what's happened to Crowley gets in the way of him seeing that he really provides for Crowley all of the things he thinks he isn't providing. It is those things he thinks he cannot provide that Satan offers Aziraphale-- that's what makes it's a temptation.

Aziraphale is genuinely wanting to take a job offer if it is exists. He doesn't actually believe he can change Heaven or even want to try-- he turned down the job offer when it was just the job offer. He only is tempted to take it when he is told that the job offer comes with protection for Crowley. Heaven admitting they were wrong about Crowley and offering through the restoration of his status the forgiveness that Crowley pretends he doesn't crave and the restoration of that status providing Crowley with safety from Satan and Hell as a whole are the things that Aziraphale feels he cannot provide for Crowley. Remember what we said above about him being mortified that Crowley had to get Shax as their source? It's here in this bit of the story, too. He'll do anything-- give up their life on Earth, work the worst job imaginable for all of eternity-- to be able give Crowley the peace and protection that he feels he's been unable to for their entire, very long, existence.

Still, though? Aziraphale would love it if this was really The Metatron... but he's pretty damn sure that it's not.

Aziraphale knows how unlikely that would be. He does know that change is possible in some people-- he's been watching that all week with Gabriel-- but he also knows that he let Gabriel into the bookshop largely because he has seen in Gabriel the likelihood of there being a Jim lurking under the surface for a long time.

The Metatron is a very different story.

There are also a series of things that happen upon Coffee Dude's arrival that seem really off and further suggest to Aziraphale that this is really far more likely to actually be Satan. We looked at some of those in other metas but to quickly recap: the dark suit, the temptation coffee, the quoting of Mary Poppins, the fact that none of the angels can recognize him and he has to go to Crowley to be identified and, most significantly in my mind, that Aziraphale seems aware of what happens when Satan possesses Crowley to get Crowley to let Aziraphale go with Satan alone. Aziraphale knows that it's very out-of-character behavior for Crowley to allow Aziraphale to go anywhere unprotected with someone dangerous like that. He catches Satan looking at him-- and then heads for the door immediately, as if to get Satan away from Crowley. He's almost certain he knows what just happened and who this is but he is a bit desperate to be wrong.

Coffee Dude being Satan also explains other things about Crowley's own ideas about what is happening in The Final 15. The reason why Crowley can't entertain the idea of it being anybody but The Metatron is because Satan was in his head and made him believe that he was looking at The Metatron and no one else. Crowley doesn't even know that Satan was there. It's also why he just stays put and mutters "they'll be back soon" to himself, instead of following Aziraphale and "The Metatron" across the street. It is also likely why Crowley appears to have forgotten that he can freeze time, which would have allowed him and Aziraphale to speak freely, and, instead, makes an entire plan based around their hidden language. Since freezing time is how they were able to help Adam in S1, if I were Satan? I'd make sure Crowley forgot that useful trick in S2. (Even if he didn't, Crowley could have just literally anxiety'd himself into forgetting it.)

So, Aziraphale gets back from being tempted by Satan and he's pretty sure that is, in fact, what's going on... but he's also secretly hoping that maybe he's wrong and it's not. He's still thinking they need to go with his plan to protect himself from falling because this is very likely to be Satan but if he's wrong about what's going on? If it's really The Metatron? Then, Aziraphale would take this offer because he feels like, if he had this to offer, then he would maybe have something of enough value to offer the person he loves... a person who always says that he is enough as he is but Aziraphale has been watching Crowley suffer for literal eons and it's all gotten to be too much.

So, Aziraphale gets back and this is where the first miscommunication happens-- one of the big ones that makes it so that Aziraphale doesn't hear Crowley's coded speech for the entire rest of the scene.

As Aziraphale arrives back in the shop, Maggie and Nina are just leaving. It's the middle of Nina's morning rush at the coffee shop and neither woman tells Aziraphale why they were in the shop. Aziraphale, like many of us in the audience lol, cannot figure out why the fuck these two are back here. Their decision to come back to the shop during Nina's rush hour after they were just endangered in the bookshop moments earlier is puzzling to us audience members... and we are seeing a fuller picture! So, it's mind-boggling to Aziraphale who, without the knowledge that we have that shows it was Maggie and Nina's own, weird idea, arrives at the idea that the likeliest conclusion is that Crowley asked the ladies to come back. It honestly makes more sense than Nina leaving her work for no apparent reason, right?

So, why does Aziraphale think Crowley would do that?

Because Maggie is the closest thing they have to family and Crowley is old-fashioned in the right ways. He wouldn't ask for Maggie's permission but Aziraphale knows that he'd consider telling Maggie of intent to ask Aziraphale to marry him, especially after the week they've all just had. Given that, moments before, they all just saw that Gabriel and Beez are a thing, Aziraphale sees Maggie and Nina leave the shop with nothing but little looks and "we're just leaving" and "I'm sure you two have a lot to discuss" and he thinks Crowley told them that he's going to propose and, of course, what happens right after this to reinforce this idea?!?!

Crowley stands up, takes off his glasses, looks charmingly nervous, and says that he supposes that he's "got something to say."

If you were Aziraphale in this moment, with everything happening so fast and no time to breathe (by the villains' design), and you had just had your world tilted on its axis several times in the last hour, and you and Crowley had been waiting a thousand lifetimes to feel like it might be safe to try to be openly together, and Crowley stood up in the living room in which you've spent countless nights, moments after seeming to tell your daughters that he was going to propose, you absolutely would think that Crowley is trying to ask you to marry him.

The problem is that Aziraphale sees Crowley trying to propose and he thinks that Crowley doesn't think anything is wrong.

He thinks that Crowley doesn't see a threat at all... how could he think there's something wrong, if he's been focused this whole time on proposing marriage and not on the fact that everything is completely and utterly bonkers and Some Sir Derek Jacobi Character is skulking about with creepy coffee?

Aziraphale so loves Crowley and wants to marry him that he gives him a pass on proposing while the wolves are circling instead of doing what Aziraphale really needs him to do, which is help him Bildad up a plan... all the while not realizing, because of the speed of everything and the misinterpretation of clues and context, that the marriage proposal itself is Bildad's bloody plan.

Aziraphale thinks that he has to *tell* Crowley that there's a threat and what it is. As a result, he's not listening to what Crowley is saying at the start of this scene. Neither, really, is the audience, at first. I think even us people theorizing overlook the bit below; I actually noticed this last of everything related to this theory. What Aziraphale isn't fully listening to and what we think is just adorable, nervous babble contains a really, really, really interesting bit of information:

If I don't start talking now, I won't ever start talking, right? Yes, so--

While Crowley is actually trying to tell Aziraphale here of an intent to use coded speech, it's the last line he gets out before Aziraphale interrupts him that tells us quite a bit about their relationship. After having seen this scene in full through its mention of nightingales confirming coded speech, we know that Crowley's proposal is a coded plan. We don't hear it in full until later in the scene but Crowley was trying to start it back here at the beginning of the scene and, when he does, he is expressing regret for how it's going to be phrased. He doesn't want to propose to Aziraphale like this but he doesn't think they have a choice. Listen to how he phrases that though: If I don't start talking now, I won't ever start talking...

Crowley is apologizing for the proposal he's about to say that isn't the one he'd really like to give but is the only way he can deliver this plan and that, if he doesn't deliver this plan, he thinks Aziraphale is going to die, and that will mean that Crowley will never get the chance to actually propose the way that he'd really like to-- someday, when it's just them and they're in the better place for it, which is also why he hasn't in the last four years since S1. What's so interesting about this is that Crowley is saying to Aziraphale that he wants to ask him to marry him one day and he is doing so in such a way that he knows this is not new information to Aziraphale. It actually winds up suggesting that they both have already, to some extent, talked about the fact that, if they ever found a way, they would like to marry one another. It's said by Crowley so casually that it is suggestive of an understanding that already exists between he and Aziraphale and is further evidence of the fact that they are already a couple.

Right, so... Aziraphale isn't hearing this because Aziraphale thinks that Crowley doesn't see a problem. He tries the downward hands of "not right now" and glancing out the window towards Coffee Dude as signals to tell Crowley not to propose right now. He both needs Crowley to stop because there is a bigger threat happening in the moment and also because Aziraphale is at about 90-95% certainty that it's Satan outside. He and Crowley have spent thousands of years hiding the fact that they are lovers from Satan because Satan would kill Crowley for it. Aziraphale is also trying to get Crowley to stop proposing just also because their relationship is theirs and he knows that Crowley wouldn't want Satan as an audience to it. (Factor that into Aziraphale's response to the kiss as well...)

We get that shot of Aziraphale just melting as Crowley continues to speak because Crowley all sweetly nervous and proposing is adorable no matter what else is going on but then Aziraphale has interrupt him so he can tell him what he thinks is happening. This is where the conversation then gets fucked in a way that means that Crowley doesn't hear a shred of any of Aziraphale's coded language, either.

Aziraphale, stressed out from all of this, makes an error here which, as Muriel would say, will prove just how human he is. It is, in fact, this very simple, very human error that will help to completely fuck up this conversation and keep Crowley from understanding Aziraphale's side of it just as much as Aziraphale cannot understand his.

That error involves this:

What Aziraphale is trying to do here is to signal to Crowley that he has to stop proposing because there is danger and to start to convey to him what he thinks that threat is. Aziraphale needs a coded way to do this. It has to sound organic in front of Coffee Dude. This means Aziraphale has to reference something to Crowley from their shared past that is like what is happening in this moment in 2.06 without saying so directly in a way that would alert Coffee Dude to shenanigans being afoot but that is conveyed in a way that Aziraphale feels that Crowley is bound to understand.

There is one night from their history together that they both absolutely know by heart and that had a situation that parallels what is happening in The Final 15. It's the big one that we've been watching unfold across both seasons now and so is likely to factor into this big plot twist of Aziraphale's fall here: 1941.

Like Crowley will be later when he references nightingales, Aziraphale is certain that if he references any part of 1941 that Crowley will be sure to know what he is saying, even if other factors actually prevent that from being true.

What Aziraphale is trying to reference from 1941 is this:

He interrupts Crowley with a version of what we can recognize as "that lovely American expression-- played for suckers!" Why this moment?

Because Aziraphale is trying to use the similar situation of the paralleling Greta as a comparison to what's happening here in The Final 15. While Aziraphale was fooled by the Nazi Greta-- believing her to really be the Allied Rose-- he is the one who is correct in the 2023 of S2. It's Crowley, who correctly identified the Nazis correctly in 1941, who is mistaken about who is watching them in 2.06. Aziraphale, though, is almost sure he's correct this time but he needs Crowley's help either way and he definitely needs Crowley to see that there's even the possibility of a Greta-like plot happening with it seeming to be The Metatron but it's really Satan.

(Not to mention that we've seen both Coffee Dude and The Nazi Zombie Flesheaters watching Crowley and Aziraphale through the bookshop window in S2.)

So, Aziraphale thinks: ah ha! I shall reference the moment in the church when it turned out that Rose was really Greta and, because this romantic night of ours is forever etched in Crowley's memory, he'll understand what I mean and know that we need to speak using our hidden language!

The problem, as you might remember, is that this is actually the only part of 1941 that Crowley doesn't remember because, to quote Crowley talking to Gabriel about Aziraphale earlier in S2:

He wasn't there, you see...

Crowley hadn't actually entered the church at this moment in 1941. *We* can see what Aziraphale is going for but Crowley has no fucking clue that Aziraphale just said to him: I think the plot is Greta in the church and I'm going to be using our hidden language!

All Crowley hears is: please stop asking me to marry you because I need to tell you about the convo I just had with my abusive dad who hates you yay so excited please hold that thought of matrimony, sweetheart!

So... Crowley holds the damn thought. 😂

Aziraphale, meanwhile, thinks that this would all be so much easier if they could just speak openly and he would like Crowley to freeze time so they can do what they did with Adam and speak freely and make a plan. As others have noticed, he starts signaling to Crowley the "time-out" hand signal, covering it up from Satan with other gesticulations. He's also saying "The Metatron you know" aloud (flipped around: "You know The Metatron"), in an effort to convey to Crowley that he believes the being watching them is really Satan.

The problem is that Aziraphale has just asked Crowley to stop proposing. He's just asked him for a time out in discussing their relationship. Even if Crowley has just forgotten that he can freeze time-- organically or as a result of Satan-- it's almost besides the point here how or why he has forgotten it because he's just not thinking of it in this moment... because he thinks Aziraphale is saying that he needs a timeout on talking about their relationship. He just kind of half-nods and lets Aziraphale continue and it's at this moment that Aziraphale is just like...

Because, if Crowley doesn't freeze time, they now have to do all of this in a coded way with Satan watching and that means that Aziraphale is about to Ineffable Husbands Speak for his damn life here... and his task with it is actually a lot harder than what we said Crowley accomplished above.

Aziraphale believes that he told Crowley he was using coded speech when he referenced 1941 and that Crowley will be listening for it. So, he now thinks he has to convey the following things to Crowley as soon as possible, all using hidden language (all of which can be found in what he says to Crowley following this, as we'll look at)...

...that he's pretty sure that the being watching them is not The Metatron but Satan; that he thinks he might be falling but he's not totally sure; that he needs Crowley's help to protect him from falling; that Crowley can help him by possessing him; that it's okay to possess him and he has permission; that they can cover the possession with a hug; and that if, in fact, it turns out that he's wrong and that is The Metatron, well! Great news! Aziraphale has been offered a job that Crowley is going to hate but that Aziraphale is excited about because he thinks it can get Crowley what he needs that Aziraphale can't give him so yay!...

...and Aziraphale has to convey all of that using coded speech that is based on nothing but recapping to Crowley the offer just presented to him by Coffee Dude.

Whereas Crowley at least was given a few minutes while Aziraphale was with Satan to come up with something to say that dovetailed with the topic-- to come up with the proposal so he could use amorous language to talk about possession under the surface-- Aziraphale is forced into freestyling into coded speech a fuckton of information using a topic that does not actually lend itself to words with possession-related meaning in their vocabulary anywhere near as easily.

Yet... He does it. I know he does because I took apart everything he says in this scene when I figured out what Crowley was saying and that's actually how I arrived at this theory. Just like with Crowley, while we could go word-for-word here, I'll just give you a sampling of it, but it holds up throughout.

First things first, he says that he thinks he might have misjudged The Metatron. Misjudged = Miss Judge, who is God. He's trying to say to Crowley that he thinks God is judging him aka that he might be falling. Just like with Crowley later on the scene, he uses Gabriel's name to say "message" and then lists Gabriel's entire job title in the sentence because it's actually a great way to explain the plan: Supreme Archangel and Commander of The Heavenly Host. To archangel is to be above angel, which is what Crowley calls Aziraphale-- to top him, to possess him. Crowley would be The Commander of The Heavenly Host. The Heavenly Host is Aziraphale-- hosted the party last night, hosting a party in his body anytime now if Crowley'd just hurry up and possess him already lol. Commander actually breaks down to "man who is with" but it also means someone in charge so it's Aziraphale telling Crowley that he'd be in control of it and that Aziraphale is okay with that, as he trusts him.

What happens pretty quickly, though, is that we start to flash between Aziraphale recapping to Crowley in the bookshop what Satan said to him and then a scene at Marguerite's in which we are, apparently, hearing those words be said. In reality, because we keep going back and forth on Aziraphale's "and then I said"/"and then he said"s, what we're being shown in the Marguerite's scene is, word-for-word, really what Aziraphale is saying to Crowley back in the bookshop.

If Aziraphale wanted to just tell Crowley what was said with no coded speech, he could have actually done it in a single, paraphrasing sentence. Instead, he plays off like he's excited-- and, complicating matters, he is a little excited if it turns out that it is The Metatron, if only because of what he can offer Crowley-- and he uses that to be able to seem like he's babbling a recap of what happened when, in reality, he's very specifically choosing certain words to convey the problem that he's trying to make Crowley see and the plan he has to survive it.

What this means is that when we flash over to Marguerite's, the words coming out of the mouth of Sir Derek Jacobi are actually the words being spoken by Aziraphale to Crowley in the bookshop, along with what Aziraphale says that he said in this scene. The whole scene is in Ineffable Husbands Speak. The plan is repeated in here a few places-- among them, there is that the word exploits actually contains ploit, which means to fall and is Aziraphale trying to really specifically say to Crowley what he thinks the threat is, and many other words being used like this. The one I want to point out, though, is my favorite and also tells what Aziraphale's plan to cover the possession was:

There are huge plans afoot...

This is really Aziraphale trying to convey the plan to Crowley and he uses the word plan in here, right? What kind of plan?

Huge plans afoot... What is a hug plan related to a foot in Crowley and Aziraphale's history?

It's Bildad the Shuite ("need any shoes?") and the simple embrace...

So, the first part of what Aziraphale says is conveying that he wants Crowley to possess him because he thinks it's possible that it's Satan outside and that he's falling and he uses that other time the two of them, from across a room, snuck something by those watching them to save lives to describe how they can do that. Aziraphale's idea for how to cover up the possession is for them to hug-- it's the simple embrace that Crowley came up with having Job and Sitis do to cover up the magical reappearance of their kids. Aziraphale believes it is Satan outside so a hug is bad enough, as far as he's concerned. He wouldn't make the plan involve a kiss because that would be suggesting that Crowley kiss him in front of his abuser and their relationship is private and theirs and Aziraphale knows neither of them would want that.

So, yeah, both Crowley and Aziraphale are trying to reference the damn Job minisode to one another at different times in 2.06 and neither of them see the other one doing so...

So, how does this all fall apart for Aziraphale then?

How does he manage to brilliantly use a recapping of the temptation job offer to convey what he thinks is happening and summarize a plan to stop it in secret to a point that we can see what he was going for right there in the words he chooses to say... but then everything still falls apart?

Because Crowley isn't listening for it at all. Not only did the 1941 reference mistake mean that Crowley is not primed to listen for coded speech, Aziraphale's genuine enthusiasm for what he might be able to offer Crowley overshadows the fact that Aziraphale genuinely does not want to go to Heaven or take this job. Crowley, still thinking that Aziraphale doesn't see a threat to him because he thinks the only threat is The Book of Life and that Aziraphale doesn't see it, believes everything Aziraphale says as Aziraphale says it.

As a result, his response is: "And you told him just where he could stick it, right?"

It's at this that the score comes back into the scene, having fallen silent for Aziraphale's words. It also falls silent again when Crowley is wording during his proposal; it's so quiet that you can actually hear "this planet" echo in the room. The score here has a foreboding sense to it that matches Aziraphale's response, which is that tight "not at all" full of ohfuckohfuckohofuckohfuck...

The score is doom-y because Aziraphale is realizing that Crowley did not hear a single word of wordplay in Aziraphale's job offer explanation. They are still at square one when it comes to communication and Crowley still doesn't know that, ironically? YES, Aziraphale did tell The Metatron just where he could stick it-- that's what actually started all of this!

Only, Aziraphale can't outrightly say that because the conversation path there then only leads to discussion of what could be happening as a result of telling off The Metatron, which, in a bit of truly insane irony, would not help Aziraphale get across a plan for stopping what is happening as a result of him having told off The Metatron.

So, Crowley just starts to express his upset at this ("we're better than that") while Aziraphale tries to figure out how to regroup. They are now boxed into the topic of the job offer, really, and Aziraphale's one chance to speak long enough to convey the plan through using the job offer recap as the surface-level speech topic is now gone. There's also no easy way to change the subject to something else to try again without it looking really obvious so Aziraphale is forced to stick with this.

He's also boxed into a corner here because he can't sound like he's against Heaven because they're being watched. No matter who it is watching them, if Aziraphale sounds too much like he's caught on to what's going on, that'll be the end of their chance to make a plan happen together... and that just might result in Aziraphale falling.

Aziraphale is now forced to try to repeat aspects of the plan in fragments in replies to what Crowley is saying in hope that Crowley will hear it and catch on and it... backfires.

Backfires is probably an understatement, actually. It implodes, pretty dramatically.

What Aziraphale is trying to do is reassure Crowley that he's still on their side while also not sound like he's against Heaven and, if Crowley had been listening for coded speech, this would have easily worked. In Crowley's ranting response, he winds up blurting out that they (Beez) offered Crowley his job back in Hell and he said no-- something that Crowley should have mentioned back on Monday, when it happened-- but Aziraphale is mainly thinking of the plan he needs to get Crowley to understand and enact, as well as how he needs to use words that don't sound like he's against Heaven. He winds up saying, as we know:

"Of course you said no-- you're the bad guys." You're. The. Disguise...

Aziraphale is trying to say "you're the disguise", meaning that the fucking plan is for Crowley to possess Aziraphale and that's how they're going to disguise Aziraphale to keep him from falling. They're going to make Heaven think he's still an angel when he's really a demon because of Crowley possessing him. Aziraphale is absolutely grasping at things here because this barely makes sense without Crowley understanding what Aziraphale said in the offer recap earlier but Aziraphale is throwing phrases in here to try to hope that he will start to catch on because this is basically all he can do at this point.

The reason why Crowley doesn't hear it, though? Or hear anything remotely close to it? Not even just because he's not listening for coded speech here but because of Aziraphale's past of saying things he doesn't mean when he's upset. It's suddenly getting kind of like The Bandstand Argument up in here and Aziraphale is frustrated because he didn't actually mean for it to be. He's trying to tell Crowley something, even if he understands why Crowley might not hear it.

It's here where this takes a bit of a heartbreaking turn. Aziraphale isn't just frustrated that Crowley can't hear what he's saying-- he feels badly about it because Crowley taking all of this at face value means that Crowley is getting hurt by what is being said and Aziraphale doesn't want him to be hurt. He tries to fix it and, unintentionally, makes it a whole lot worse.

Aziraphale uses three words-- light, truth, and good-- to seemingly describe the side of Heaven. In Crowley and Aziraphale's speak, they have before used Heaven/Up for Aziraphale as shorthand to Crowley's Hell/Down. Aziraphale is trying to sound like he's all yay Heaven! because they're being watched but "the side of Heaven" here is actually Aziraphale and the side that he is on... and that side is Crowley's side-- their side together-- because the words that Aziraphale uses to describe that side of Heaven aka his side? The side of light, of truth, of good?

Yeah, those are all words he's used to describe Crowley before...

Aziraphale is using language here that is associated with Heaven but that he sees as being associated more with Crowley and, again, if Crowley were listening for wordplay, he would have understood this. He's not, though, so he takes it as Aziraphale just used positive, loving words he's used to describe Crowley to describe the place that has tortured them both for millennia... and he is, understandably, fucking horrified.

What Aziraphale was going for is to say in a way that could be overheard that Crowley is his side and he did so by using words of Heaven to describe Crowley and you know where he got that idea from? From this guy and what he said just moments earlier still being in Aziraphale's head:

Crowley is Aziraphale's Heaven. That's what he was trying to tell him. Unlike Gabriel and Beez, though, Aziraphale is being watched, so he had to phrase it in a coded way and hoped that Crowley would understand. He did not because this is the No Nightingales season lol.

Instead, Crowley's reaction-- "When Heaven ends all life on this Earth..."-- then causes Aziraphale to realize something that confuses him completely:

Crowley thinks there is something wrong.

Crowley's panic-stricken and all "tell me you said no!" and Aziraphale is like... *blinks*... honey, I came through the door four minutes ago and you reacted like I just got back from picking up my dry cleaning and started asking me to marry you and now you're acting like *something is wrong* wtf?!? If you thought something was wrong, why were you *proposing*?!

Of course, Aziraphale can't tell him he said no, and he's actually getting a bit angry, as well as confused. He's upset that Crowley thinks he'd just leave and that he's not appreciating that Aziraphale could maybe have an answer to their problems with going to Heaven (it's not really an answer but emotions aren't logical) and he's starting to get his back up a bit. We've reached the line that becomes the turning point:

If I'm in charge, I can make a difference.

For what it's worth, this line does wordplay out to something that goes along with what Aziraphale is trying to convey, but... it's wordplay, but it's also not. Aziraphale's lines that follow are also attempts to recap and convey the plan, like this one is, but there's just a great deal of surface level truth to this particular line.

Aziraphale still needs Crowley to possess him to keep him from falling but he's also thinking about the fact that maybe he'll have been wrong, maybe this'll have been The Metatron, maybe it's true-- if he's in charge, he could make a difference. It expresses the lack of power that he feels when it comes to the outside factors impacting their relationship. The fact that those feelings are very, very genuine-- and Crowley knows that better than anyone-- just winds up helping to make it seem not like there's also a wordplay level at all to Crowley.

It's here that Crowley basically starts to pray and we see how that response has visibly confused Aziraphale. It would because Aziraphale, again, has no fucking idea lol what Crowley thinks is happening. The moment that Aziraphale said that he could make a difference if he was in charge, Crowley realized that Aziraphale had every intention of going with The Metatron and he went into Defcon Whatever The Highest Number Is Panic Mode because if Aziraphale went with The Metatron without possessing him first? He was going to get Book of Life'd! He was going to die!

Aziraphale is left looking confused by Crowley being so distraught that he basically starts calling on God for help because, ya know, four minutes ago? To Aziraphale? Crowley was like oh hey, you're back, so where would you like to honeymoon? and now he's like Our Frances, Who Art Probably Elsewhere From Heaven...

Aziraphale is like what the fuck is going on?

Crowley then speeds through a sentence at 100 mph (because anxiety) where he says he didn't get to say what he was going to before and he thinks he better say it now... and then, like a record with a stuck needle, he starts to propose to Aziraphale again.

We know why-- he's got to tell him the plan!-- but, to Aziraphale? This is literally the most batshit insane thing he can imagine.

Aziraphale is pretty sure that's Satan outside and Satan who attacked Crowley in front of him, in their house, while Crowley was in Aziraphale's own desk chair, and Satan who is going to tempt him into falling and if it's not? It's The Metatron, and the offer being genuine would mean that they could find a way out of this mess, if only Crowley would listen to him, and what is Crowley doing when Aziraphale needs him most?

When he really needs Crowley to hear what he was trying to say and give him the help he needs?

When who he needs is 1941 Crowley-- the Crowley that Aziraphale gets all the time? The one who gently reassures him and helps him through all the ups and downs of being a professional conjurer? But who he's getting is Alpha Centauri! Crowley, who isn't listening to what it is that Aziraphale needs and whose inability to hear it hurts?

Aziraphale doesn't know what it is that Crowley is so afraid of but the longer the proposal that Aziraphale cannot parse any additional meaning out of goes on, the more clear it is that Crowley is falling apart. His voice starts to go; he's in tears. Aziraphale is upset that Crowley is upset and would give anything to just talk to him the way that they usually do. He can't understand how Crowley doesn't seem to see that they're being watched and that there's a threat and just keeps going on about their relationship when the threat of Coffee Dude is literally looming right outside.

Aziraphale eventually starts responding to Crowley's proposal lines-- all of which, as we've said, are a plan for Aziraphale to possess him, repeated in different ways, over and over-- with similar pleas of his own. They're literally gesturing at one another at times, alongside the words, the suggestion that each other take possession of the other.

Come with me. *hand gesture from Crowley back to himself* To Heaven...

Because of the highly sexualized way in which Crowley and Aziraphale talk about possession, there is an element of comedy to this incredibly depressing scene once you see the hidden language at play.

The only way for both of them to talk about possession in a hidden way is to use vocabulary related to sex. What ends up happening as a result is that their whole persuasive arguments back and forth to one another wind up becoming sexually euphemistic to a point that they are basically just finding different ways to refer to sex and suggest that the other take them...

...and neither of them realize this because they do it so fucking often when flirting that it's not unusual enough for them to flag it as off. 😂

Aziraphale is standing there, likely hearing every innuendo in Crowley's proposal, and simply thinking that Crowley is asking him to marry him with a bit of an Ineffable Husbands Speak twist to it because of course he would, right? They just speak like this to one another all the time now so, if the context isn't emphatically suggesting 'hey, I am using this cant vocabulary of ours to convey a hidden message', neither of them are actually listening for one.

Meanwhile, this is Crowley, getting so hysterical that, at one point, he almost starts to laugh when he's saying "an us" (anus) and has, therefore, officially, reached the point of just yelling "ASS" at Aziraphale in an effort to get himself possessed so that Aziraphale won't die because they are currently trapped in a total fucking nightmare so dark and depressing that it is also kind of funny.

This, I'd imagine, is also why he can't go any further here and is just like "you in me, what do you say?" like please get this, angel, or I'm going to jump off the roof...

Meanwhile, Aziraphale, earlier, was just as euphemistic:

It'll be just like the old times. Only even nicer.

Old comes from auld, which meant adult and nourishing. Only (one); even (emphasizing a balanced sense of power; a word of reassurance); nicer, which you can read about here.

They get so turned around that Crowley even shouts the word "toxic" at Aziraphale about Heaven and Hell in such a way that it comes out as "TALK-ic", in an effort to try to say I'm trying to talk to you and get him to hear other levels of meaning in what is being said.

He's not the only one. There's also this:

Crowley actually doesn't understand what Aziraphale is offering him. Not really. He thinks he does and so does the audience, if they don't see what Aziraphale is trying to say. Crowley does know what it's like to struggle with Heaven and he understands that aspect of what Aziraphale is going through but what he isn't seeing here is that Aziraphale is specifically referencing the offer because, like Crowley will do with mentioning nightingales a moment after this, Aziraphale is trying to call back to to things he said earlier so that Crowley will listen for hidden language. Crowley's quick dismissal of it shuts down another avenue for Aziraphale to try again to say the plan and Aziraphale is again hurt that Crowley only thinks the surface level of what is happening is the only thing happening-- that he thinks Aziraphale truly would want to go to Heaven.

If Crowley knew what was truly happening? If he understood that Aziraphale was trying to say that he thought he was falling and needed help? You know Crowley would have done anything. He'd have gone along with Aziraphale's plan and possessed him. They could have gone together in Aziraphale's body into the elevator. It wouldn't have mattered if it was Satan or The Metatron-- they would have been there to protect each other and faced it together.

While it doesn't matter for the plot of S2 whether or not The Book of Life is real because what really matters is that Crowley thinks it is, there is a lot of suggestion that, at least in the way that Crowley and Beez believe it to be real, it doesn't actually exist. It's anxiety. It's as real as Crowley made it to be. If he had talked about it with Aziraphale, he likely would have found out it's not true. Aziraphale isn't worried about it in The Final 15, despite being threatened by Michael with it, which suggests that it really is balderdash and complete piffle. Michael is never shown having gotten the authority to do it by The Metatron and Michael is pretty impressionable and could have been one of the angels Beez and Crowley once teased into believing in it. Beez's embarrassed reaction in 2.01 suggested that they believed that Crowley was correct about it when he said his reaction was that it wasn't real.

It likely means that Crowley's entire plan in The Final 15 is for a threat that doesn't actually exist.

It means that Crowley's own anxiety and not being open with Aziraphale and talking about it kept him from being a partner to Aziraphale when Aziraphale needed him more than ever and made him blind to hearing what Aziraphale was saying he truly needed.

That "I need you" moment hits a little differently now, doesn't it?

If Crowley walks out the door, so does Aziraphale's ability to not fall.

When you think about it... of course it does, right?

How do you not fall? You let in the love of those around you.

It's also how you get back up if you do fall. Everything goes down, as Gabriel observed, but the flies go up. So do the birds-- the nightingales. Just not in S2.

Their insecurities can be summed up by how Aziraphale has never fully understood how Crowley means bookshop. It's the one word between them that they each think the other fully understands but they don't. They get the sexually euphemistic way that Aziraphale uses it ("...but we both get plenty of use out of it, don't we?") but it really comes down to how they each see Aziraphale. To Aziraphale, the bookshop that is metaphorically him is a compromise. It's not good enough. To Crowley? The bookshop is everything because the bookshop is Aziraphale and the place Aziraphale made for them. The clever idea his clever partner had for them. The place where Crowley feels loved and safe. It's all he needs, just as it is, but Aziraphale thinks it's not enough and wants to be able to offer more.

Aziraphale thinks they're talking about the bookshop itself in 2.06 ("oh, Crowley, nothing lasts forever") because it's been on his mind all season. It's the bookshop from which Aziraphale would like to move, and if you think that Crowley's proposal was ill-timed, ooh boy lol, this is not the best time to start to tell that one, particular person you'd like to go to that cottage by the sea, Aziraphale... but Crowley?

He thinks, of course, that Aziraphale means their fucking relationship and on go the sunglasses...

...in reality, part of why Aziraphale feels stuck in the same daily round of the bookshop is because of Crowley's attachment to it. It's because of Crowley having been devastated by the fire. Aziraphale thinks it would be better for them if they could find a way to move, if he can find a way to get out of the mess that is the embassy bookshop situation, but he hasn't yet found a way to talk to Crowley about that and tell him he'd like to them to go live together and it's only coming up now... when he's otherwise basically said he's leaving for Heaven. As a result, Crowley thinks that the nothing that lasts forever in question is their relationship.

Their words are so fucked at this point that Crowley winds up thinking that Aziraphale just said that their millennia-long love affair was a fun lark but it's over now that he's going to take over Gabriel's job.

Aziraphale's anxiety that Crowley likes the safety he could provide with the bookshop-- if not ever enough of it-- more than he loves him as a person; Crowley's anxiety that Aziraphale would choose Heaven and not him. Both of them knowing that it's insecurity talking-- Crowley even believing that he must have the short end of the stick enough to stop leaving and stay when Aziraphale asks him to come back-- but they're both so confused from what they think has been said during this scene that they're extra-vulnerable.

When Crowley tries "no nightingales" and the kiss as a last-ditch effort to get Aziraphale to understand The Book of Life as a threat and possess him, it doesn't work. Just like how Aziraphale also fails to get Crowley to understand that it is, likely, Satan that is watching them and that Aziraphale is about to fall without Crowley possessing him. What makes the kiss so heartbreaking and romantic is, actually, the fact that it is such a fucking root canal of a thing. Why?

Because both of them were waiting for the other to understand and possess one another. There's 90 billion interminable seconds of neither of them actually really kissing one another because both of them have a plan that involves possession for which this kiss could provide cover, even if it's only Crowley whose plan actually involved a kiss.

The kiss is so awkward because it's a pretense for something else, more than it is a kiss they both just want to share for the sake of kissing, and they both know they're being watched. Aziraphale is more in shock over the kiss happening because he has emotional whiplash from a proposal to a break up to being told he didn't love Crowley to a kiss out of nowhere. Crowley is basically not moving because he's kissing Aziraphale in the hopes that Aziraphale has gotten the plan and will start kissing him back and possessing him any second now. This renders Crowley basically a passive participant in the kiss. He might have been the one that started it but, once he touches his lips to Aziraphale, he basically doesn't move because that would be against the point of why he's kissing Aziraphale.

The same things that cause people to think that this looks like a pair of eighth graders trying to kiss for the first time lol are also just that way because of the plot reasons why this kiss is happening more than the emotional ones. The circumstances involved mean that this kiss actually says exactly nothing about how they normally kiss.

Crowley never tries to deepen it-- or, even, honestly, really to kiss Aziraphale much at all-- which honestly... was probably confusing the living fuck out of Aziraphale. Imagine for a moment that they are long-time lovers who have been kissing for thousands of years. How incredibly fucking weird would it be for your partner who knows how to bring the vavoom to go from proposing you get married, to ranting about Heaven, to proposing again in a series of sexual euphemisms, to telling you that you never loved him and that he's leaving you, only to then turn around, walk back, and give you this bizarrely dry kiss, the likes of which the two of you have never shared in all your worst days?

Not to mention that, if you're Aziraphale? You need Crowley to possess you or you will fall to Hell. This kiss could have covered that, as insane as all this emotional up-and-down of the last few minutes has been. This kiss could have saved your life and it doesn't because you can't get Crowley to get past his own stuff enough to hear you-- no wonder you're pissed enough to say, angrily, that you forgive him for it. Falling to Hell is going to mean that they take your memories. It's a form of death first before you're a demon. The only way to avoid that would have been for him to possess you and he wouldn't. Is it because he doesn't know? Is it because he just won't-- that it's too much for him, after everything? If you're Aziraphale, you don't know.

All Aziraphale knows is that all of this hurts and, to make everything all even worse, that kiss was such a mess (and it's likely the last one) that it feels like they might have broken what was between them with it and that, alone, is reason enough for Aziraphale's reaction when they pull back from it. Is it any wonder, then, that Aziraphale after that kiss is just a fucking mess?

That he is this close to saying the I love you that he feels but he's also so fucking angry that his emotional devastation flips within a few seconds to frustration and the all-too-self-aware "I forgive you"... because that's what this is all about. That's what Crowley, feeling unforgivable, has always seemed like he needs to heal and the thing that Aziraphale doesn't have the power to give him. He's not enough to end Crowley's pain-- unforgivable, that's what Crowley is, according to Crowley.

He's just not enough for Crowley, period, is what Aziraphale thinks. Not good enough. It doesn't matter how much Aziraphale loves him, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough to overcome the pain of Heaven having cast Crowley out. That's all he wants to do-- end Crowley's pain. Make Heaven say they were wrong and give Crowley the peace he deserves and the safety that Aziraphale feels like he can't offer him on his own.

Crowley, in the end, goes out the door, rather than acknowledge that he knows why Aziraphale feels this way. Aziraphale is left gasping "no" and touching his lips over what he thinks will be their last kiss... because Crowley is gone and also because he's likely going to fall now. The option for that to not to happen went out the door with Crowley.

Satan comes back in right afterwards and we get the scenes that see Aziraphale slip towards that fall very quickly without Crowley there. The bookshop goes to Muriel and Aziraphale almost refuses the temptation and goes to Crowley but, like Beez, upon the realization that The Book of Life likely wasn't real, Aziraphale sees Satan twist the knife by flattering him and then intentionally letting him hear the "The Second Coming" comment that proves that it was all a ruse. In that moment, Aziraphale knows that they wouldn't put him in charge of Armageddon and that there is no job offer.

He's left standing there with a choice to make-- he can go to Crowley or he can get in the elevator and, if he gets into the elevator, he knows who it is for sure now who is holding open the door. He knows what awaits him, which makes it a bit of a suicide attempt, in that he knows he's in the last moments of his life, as his memories will be taken from him and he won't come back as a demon the same.

He could go to Crowley but, like Beez earlier in the season when they realized that The Book of Life wasn't real, Aziraphale is that thing we talked about at the start of this meta.

He's embarrassed.

He knows he could go to Crowley and Crowley would tell him that it was all okay and they could talk it through but Aziraphale knows now that there is no chance that he's ever going to be able to provide Crowley the kind of safety and peace that he thinks he can't provide for him and he knows that Armageddon is coming again and that they're going to have to stop it all over again and just keep living this circular nightmare forever and he can't take it anymore.

In that moment, he wants coffee but he's too worn out and, in his unpredictable predictableness, he chooses death. He doesn't truly want it but it's a relief from the same kind of suffering-- a false freedom-- and he falls for the temptation of that in the moment.

It will ultimately wind up okay. They seem to have made an accidental fly in The Bentley when Aziraphale drove it that could restore memories. There is an overthrowing of Heaven/Hell on the horizon that might even make it so that Aziraphale is the last angel who ever falls and the concept of a demon changes a bit in S3. There are ways forward but there is no plan already happening when Aziraphale gets into the elevator. He had one; so did Crowley. They tried to communicate across a space while being watched-- like in the Job minisode, like in 1941-- but, this time, they failed, and that, I think, is the point of the No Nightingales season.

Their communication gaps are really their own insecurities reflected back to them. Aziraphale, no matter what Crowley does or says, feels like he is not good and not good enough for Crowley, so he's always felt like Crowley can do better than him. He thinks he should have been able to figure out how to give them a life that's better than their bookshop compromise by now.

Aziraphale doesn't stop to think about how this really doesn't make sense... about how Crowley would never just ask him to marry him with The Metatron lurking in the street... about how he asks him to run away with him sometimes in a panic when trouble is looming, yeah, but this is different from that. This isn't run away with me to our stars, angel! but I would like to marry you.

He doesn't stop to consider that because all Aziraphale can hear is his own inner voice telling him that he should have been able to give Crowley this life a long time ago.

Meanwhile, Crowley doesn't stop to think that Aziraphale would never want to leave him and so, even if tempted by this restoration of status offer for Crowley, would not actually want to go to Heaven. He doesn't think about how they're being watched and so Aziraphale is trying to code his speech because Crowley's own biggest insecurity-- one of his worst nightmares-- is Aziraphale going full Heaven Pod Person on him.

Crowley loves a happy ending to a love story but he doesn't truly think he's ever getting one because it's always going to be too late for him-- he's damned, after all. The only happy ending to a love story for him that he'd ever want is to be with Aziraphale forever and that has seemed impossible from the start, given that he's a demon and Aziraphale is an angel. Crowley doesn't think they get a happy ending and he thinks it's his fault that they won't. He has just been trying all these years to make it so that Aziraphale doesn't get hurt in the process and now what's happening in 2.06? That he's not good, that he's unforgivable, that he's damned, is coming home to roost and he's got to watch what feels like Aziraphale on a path towards death, slipping through his fingers, with nothing Crowley can make happen to prevent it.

They both so desperately want the other to believe they are as good as they see each other as being and would do anything to convince each other of that and suffer when they feel like they're failing at it. What neither of them really fully realize, fundamentally, is that they don't need to accept labels and judgements of those who have harmed them. It's a hard thing for anyone to learn and, sometimes, they let each other in and listen to one another reiterate that they're great as they are and, other times, it gets harder and miscommunications happen as people get too stuck in their heads.

That's S2 but it won't be S3.

Aziraphale only wants Crowley's restoration of angelic status because he thinks it will make Crowley see that he's not unforgivable and because it will keep him safe from Satan if he's an angel again. Aziraphale doesn't need Crowley to be an angel to love him-- he's painted his entire damn house the color of Crowley's demonic eyes. He's absolutely mad for him, just as he is.

The same is true of how Crowley feels about Aziraphale. Aziraphale knows that Crowley loves him but he doesn't love himself-- not enough, anyway. He feels like he's a failure when he's really brilliant. He thinks he's not a good person when he's unfailingly kind. He thinks he doesn't have anything to offer Crowley when all Crowley wants is Aziraphale, exactly as he is...

The Nightingales finale in S1 is about them getting it so very right in the moment. What they say to one another is exactly what the other needs, which is what makes it so romantic. It shows how well they know one another and that, more often than not, they get it right. When a series of unfortunate events and their own anxieties pile up at the same time, though, we get the No Nightingales finale in S2 when, overwhelmed, they both let their own fears and anxieties get the better of them, and the inability to speak freely and to pause, as they usually do, and ask what each other's exactlys mean, exactly, eludes them.

And, even then, after it all falls apart? The most romantic thing is still happening because they are both still trying.

In the end, they're both still trying with the exact things the argument over Gabriel in 2.01 made it clear that they're both helping one another to work on:

Crowley stays by the car, because he's promised to stay and work through things without succumbing to fear and running away. He fucked up and walked out the door but he stays nearby, to show he loves him.

Aziraphale leaves their song to be played for Crowley, because he's promised to try not to succumb to fear and blurt out angry words he doesn't mean. He fucked up and said things he regrets but he has the car play "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square", to show he loves him.

Crowley says with his actions: I am always here and I won't leave you on your own. Aziraphale says with his: You are my whole world and anything I do, I am trying to do for you.

They honestly didn't really even break up so much as both just get enormously fucking confused.

And here's where I'll leave you by mentioning one, final thing...

It actually is about 2.06 but it's a bit of foreshadowing from the final shot of 1.06, in this moment here:

Much amazing discussion has been had about the piano in the last scene in The Ritz in S1-- about how their song is being played and about how the piano lid looks like a wing and makes this scene something of a parallel to others, like Eden and Before the Beginning, that end with Crowley and Aziraphale each sheltering one another with a wing. All of that is stellar and I agree with it but I think there's one, subtle thing that gets overlooked about this piano-- and that's the piece of it that is involved in it being played in the first place.

Just as unraveling nightingales is a key to Crowley and Aziraphale's hidden language, their nightingale-themed song is being played by a human on the piano-- on piano keys. In order to access those piano keys to play the song, though? The pianist had to first do one, specific thing...

She had to access the keys by first moving back the cover that hides them when not in use and let them see the light of day. Without doing this? No piano. No piano?

No nightingales.

What is action that the pianist did to play the song in 1.06 called then, in musical terms?

Lifting. Up...

...The Fallboard.

[waldau-archived]

hii! I've noticed that you haven't written anything for minghao yet (according to your master list) so I wanted to request something cozy and homey with him. like maybe cooking together or waking up together or something along those lines.. :)

hello anon! i was feeling extra sappy with minghao and this also happens to be my first work for him. thank you so much for requesting it, i hope you see this!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

muse — xu minghao | 1,382 words | fluff

minghao blinks his eyes open to the sound of silence. there’s not much he can hear right out, except for the distant sound of cars going past. he lazes around for a few more moments before giving in and checking the time on his phone.

it’s just shy of six in the morning. he needs to be up and at the studio by nine, but he doesn’t feel like moving just yet. he puts his phone away and turns around to you, to watch you sleep.

the first time he’d ever done it was unfortunately a time you weren’t actually asleep, and he’d ended up staring at you for ten minutes before you woke up and apologized to him, saying that you couldn’t pretend to stay asleep without wanting to burst into laughter.

he still remembers how embarrassed he’d been by that, and how you made it up to him with kisses and multiples reassurances that it had been okay, that he could do it again, that it wasn’t a problem at all, you’d just been caught off-guard the very first time.

the thing is — minghao adores you. he’s in awe of you. to him, no one else on this planet even compares to how exquisite you are. he loves how like-minded the two of you are, how affectionate you’re with him, and how much you support him without even saying any words. of course, he loves going out on dates with you, seeing new places with you, seeing you match the outfits he wears, but this might just be his favourite sight in the world.

this being seeing you asleep on your side, facing him, a hand tucked under your head and the other holding his own. as an artist, he’s used to noticing the finer details about everything he sees, so when it comes to you, he could lose himself for hours noticing every single thing about you that makes him love you more.

minghao gently untangles his hand from your grasp, drawing his own blanket over you properly so that you don’t feel cold. he immediately feels the cold winter air hit his bare arms, and he winces as he gets used to it. he’s going to need to workout before he leaves, because there’s no time for it in the evening. not if he wants to finish work fast enough to come back to have dinner with you.

his fingers itch for a brush. it’s been a while since he’s painted something. the last thing he’d put on his canvas had been a rendition of a sunrise he’d been able to see with you a few weeks ago. it had been magical; the beautiful hues of orange and yellow blending with the shimmering brightness of the sea, contrasting the pale hue of the sky.

but nothing looked more beautiful than you sitting next to him, watching the sun rise and letting the water wash over your legs. he’d been tempted to paint you instead, right there, but you’d dragged him out on a monday morning for inspiration, despite the fact that both of you had work soon, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

but he doesn’t really need inspiration. not when you’re his muse.

he runs his fingers across your face as gently as he can, glad that you’re still asleep. you’ve been having trouble sleeping recently, and he’s glad he’s part of why you’ve been sleeping better. he smiles when he notices two faint pillow creases stamped into your cheek, angry red lines that he hopes don’t hurt you at all. you somehow manage to look even more perfect with them.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at you before your eyes blink open slowly, and somehow his eyes are the first thing that yours find. he holds his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“hao?” you ask, voice croaky. “what time is it?”

minghao checks his phone again. “six thirty-seven. you still have twenty three more minutes to sleep, if you want.”

“mm,” you say, before you roll in closer and pull his arm to yourself. “wake me up at seven, then.” before he can say anything, you look up at him. “aren’t you supposed to leave early today?”

he nods. “do you want me to leave?”

you huff and tug at his arm to pull him closer to yourself, and he goes down willingly. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

“what did you mean, then?” he asks, pinching your nose softly.

you’re used to his teasing by now, so you just roll your eyes throw an arm around his waist. “did you sleep well, hao?”

“really well. you?”

“me too. but…how long were you staring at me this time?”

he feigns shock. “you could tell?”

“i can just…feel it, somehow,” you giggle. “won’t you tell me?”

“do you really want me to?”

“of course,” you say, eyes shining despite the layer of sleep clinging to them. minghao wishes he could spend more time with you like this. it’s almost like you’re forcing yourself to stay awake despite having some more time to sleep, just to talk to him. the thought warms his chest.

“maybe forty minutes? maybe more.”

there’s a grin on your face. “correct me if i’m wrong, but…i think you love me?”

he could just refute it, tease you a little, joke that you’re in too deep, but he can’t. there’s something about the early hours of the morning combined with the fact that he has the honour to wake up with you that makes his heart heavy. he’s lucky to even have this, especially with you.

“you’re right,” he says, voice rough, feeling his waterline sting suddenly. “i love you.”

the grin on your face disappears slowly. “hao? is everything okay?”

“of course it is, darling,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead, brushing off some rogue strands of hair to kiss it properly, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your beautiful face better. “i love you. is that wrong?”

“no, silly,” you say, leaning up to cup his cheek in your palm. your hand is cold. maybe he should’ve warmed you up better. “you sound…sad. like there’s something eating at you.”

he closes his eyes and indulges himself in your touch, trying to work out his words, marvelling at how easily you can read him. “i…love you. you know that, right?”

“yeah. i love you, too. but…?”

“but,” he sighs, “i just…don’t have the right words to tell you how much i love you. i could say i love you a thousand times, but it wouldn’t be enough. i could kiss you a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough. i could…i could ask you to marry me but nothing would be enough to tell you how thankful i am that you’re here with me. that you’re mine.”

silence, just the two of you in your bedroom, the sounds of life filtering in from outside the window.

your breath is shaky when you speak. “hao.” you drop your hand down to his arm. “i love you, too. you don’t…i don’t need any grand gestures from you. just…be with me. every single day. be mine forever. that’s it.”

“there’s nowhere else i want to be.”

“then that’s all i need.”

minghao presses a kiss to your head. he hopes it conveys everything he’s feeling right now. he’s about to say something more when your alarm goes off, and he really should get going if he doesn’t want to reach work late.

“see you in the evening?” you ask, hand catching his as he attempts to get to his feet. “maybe we can talk about…getting married? for real?”

minghao hasn’t even opened the curtains yet, and he feels like he’s standing in front of the sun again. he’s going to go to work, do well, come back home to you and hold you and hear about your day and eat with you. he’s going to surprise you with a painting of yourself, and he’s going to marry you. that’s the life he’s built for himself with you, and he loves it.

it’s all he needs to keep going, every single day.

“i can’t wait. i’ll be back before you know it, darling.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

[ughgoaway]

Ok so maybe the walls of neighbor matty and girlie’s building are kinda thin so when she fucks he can hear everythinggg and he’s laying there like Oh my god i’m a pervert but she’s so hot and he’s imagining what she must look like all sweaty and naked and moaning like that… and he just slooowly starts getting off, shirt CLENCHED between his teeth to keep himself quiet because if He can hear Her the reverse has to be true as well and then he cums all over himself wishing he was the one making her scream like that

and then maybe takes advantage of the fact she can definitely hear him getting off at a later date teehee 😇😇

Oh ABSOLUTELY, heather your mind>>>>>

(18+ below the cut, please!! also this might be shite i haven't written properly in 76 years. 1.4k ish!!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

You've just been on yet another date, and you know there's no future there at all. His going on for 45 minutes about his latest stock investments in crypto made that clear. But you also know there doesn't need to be a future for him to get you off. So you flash your doe eyes and invite him up to your place, letting the strap of your dress slip and a glimpse of black lace peek through. It doesn't take much before his hands are groping at your ass as the lift doors click closed.

And he's a fine kisser, and his skin on yours feels just the same as any other man. But when your hands slide into his hair, you can't help but subconsciously wish you were gripping unkempt curls, tugging at them and hearing that same moan you’ve heard through the thin walls of your bedroom late at night. You wish you could smell the woody aftershave that makes you roll your eyes every time it wafts your way, you want to hear just one voice whispering the things he's saying into your ear, and his gruff tone isn't scratching the itch you’re in denial about.

The sheets hit your bare back, and you watch with hooded eyes as your date scrambles to get his trousers down his legs, clearly eager to get inside you. And knowing how good you look right now, you're not surprised. His overheated lips touch the skin of your neck, and you decide then and there to put on the performance of your life. You don't want Matty, and your brain convincing you that you do is just because it's swimming in expensive wine and 2 shots of tequila. You want him, you want… John? No, James? Wait… did it begin with J? Oh well, you don't need to be coherent when you focus on his skin on yours. Breathy moans and whines will more than suffice.

Matty's eyes snap open the second he hears a low voice accompanying yours, the breathy faux giggle falling from your lips making him roll his eyes. As far as he's concerned, he's just annoyed about any noise, not that there's a man with you. Or that he's now in your bedroom, judging by the gradually louder speech. He fucking hates that his headboard and yours technically share a wall, bored of hearing all your shitty singing when you're getting ready in the morning. 

If he has to hear your rendition of Ain't it fun one more time, he's going to make an official noise complaint. Mainly because he loves it when you get pissed off and your eyebrows scrunch up as you yell at him. His heart tries to tell him it's because he finds you endearing, but his head refuses that fact.

He definitely doesn't feel like he loves anything when he hears the first wanton moan fall from your lips, and the louder they get, the more frustration builds inside him. What type of frustration is up for debate, but judging by the slowly growing tent in his trousers, it's not just pure annoyance. He really tries to stop focusing on your every noise, but it's hard when you sound like that. He swears he can hear every hitch in your breath, every shaky inhale and needy moan that comes from your ruby red lips.

He feels like a fucking creep and he's just about to reach for his headphones when you start getting louder, groaning and screaming like the girls he watches on Friday nights, one hand down his trousers and the other turning up the volume on his Macbook. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine what you’re doing. He can see you hovering above him, skin glowing red, flushed from your tits all the way up to the apples of your cheeks. His eyes flicker closed as he sees visions of your tits bouncing bove him, you pulling your hair to the side exposing your marked-up neck with a sly smirk covering your face. 

Goosebumps rise on his skin, and without realising it, his hand starts to slide down, groping himself over his thin boxers. A far too loud shaky gasp is ripped from his chest. He can't help but freeze immediately, nervous that somehow over the sounds of slapping skin and wanton grunts, you'd heard his weak gasp. But judging by the loud moan followed by “fuck- yes!” That he hears, you're obviously distracted by something else. Or somebody else.

Dilemma fills his mind. Or it does for a few seconds, but he can't stop himself from lying back down, pulling his boxers down his knees, dragging his shirt up over his skin and gripping it between his teeth, tugging at it to get a better view of his hand wrapping around his half hard dick. The first tug is heavenly, there’s just enough pull to make him hiss, but the shirt muffles any noises he makes, and the slight pain just feels so fucking good.

It doesn't take long before he's furiously pumping his fist to the sounds of you, ignoring the gruff grunts of the mystery man to instead focus on your high pitched moans followed by breathy praise that he knows is you. Matty's brain convinces himself each noise is for him, every gasp, whine, and whimper ripped from your chest is because you are thinking of him, wishing he was on top of you, dreaming of him inside you whispering filthy secrets into your ear as he bites at your neck.

His thumb brushes over his weeping tip, spreading beads of precum down his shaft, using it as lube to move faster, grip himself harder, to feel more. Each time his fist reaches the top of his erection, he can't help his hips jump into the contact, the same needy moan falling from his muffled lips. He swears he can taste blood, biting the shirt so hard he's sure he's catching his lip, the liquid iron taste overwhelming his senses in a way he can't bring himself to care about.

The air was thick and heavy around him, the smell of your perfume somehow filling his senses, his eyes flicking open to watch the red flush that covers his inked skin creep up his body, obscuring the small marks that litter him. Shaky eyes roll into the back of his head, fighting to stop his jaw-dropping and letting every grunt and groan escape. Part of him wants you to hear. He wants you to know he is getting off to you, to know that he wants you. Instead, he bites down harder, letting beads of sweat drip down his neck. Twitching hips and his racing heart make his head hazy, visions of you clouding his mind.

Cosmic timing makes you and Matty teeter at the edge of bliss at the same time, the same electricity pooling at both of your spines. Matty can tell you’re close even with a wall between the two of you. Your once coherent pleads quickly become rambling words and needy cries. He swears he can see you keening into his touch when he closes his eyes, speeding up his first to match the sounds of slapping skin he can hear next door, convincing himself that he’s the one fucking you.

Coiling tension pulsates inside you both, your breath hitching moments before the tension snaps, wave crashing over you and Matty. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your hips jumping as your date keeps fucking you, pushing deeper as he watches you in awe, studying the way your jaw drops and your whole body shivers.

Matty listens in shock, staring down as streams of white cum cover his thighs, painting the tattoo that sits so proudly on his hip. He keeps listening to every noise from you, wishing he could hear them without plaster between you, he wants to be the one making you cry from pleasure, watching your body shake as you come down, seeing the blissed-out smile on your face when you finally start to feel your legs again.

But eventually, the cum on his skin starts to feel cold and sticky, and the visions of you become clouded with all the times you've told him you hate him, all the times you called the building manager because he won't stop smoking weed, or even the time you called the police because he wouldn't stop blasting music. The illusion was shattered as he wipes his cum half-heartedly off his thighs and hand, rolling over to sleep, fighting to forget he ever hears a single noise from the apartment next door.

As for you hearing him… I will expand it another time teehee

(p.s any and all neighbour matty ideas are welcomed xoxo)