#i should write more songs about good omens

[madelinksi]

distance is a factor of five:

fingers i wanna touch you with

remind me i’m alive

[lcvesjj]

Bad Omens - Deacon Kay x Fem!Reader

Based on the song “Bad Omens” by 5SOS

This is part of my ‘song fics’ series :)

Summary : You'd always come in second place to Annie. Maybe you were right. This relationship was a mistake and you should've listened to the warnings. Since he'll always love somebody else..

Warnings : angst, angst, angst & once again angst. no happy ending, breakups, (Deacon gets back w Annie), in this fic Annie & Deacon don't have kids !!!, heart break, talks/mentions of cheating?

NOT BETA READ!

A/n : the fanfic writer curse has really been kicking my ass recently :’) so I wasn’t posting any fics for a while bc of it. But anyways enjoy and as always this is just based on my interpretation of the song/lyrics :) (yes I am incapable of writing a happy ending currently🥲) I might rewrite this someday since I'm not 100% happy with how this has turned out.

word count : 672

song fic masterlist

regular masterlist

Honestly you should've seen it coming. You always knew you'd come second place to Annie. Deacon's high school sweetheart and “one true love”

Deacon always talked about her a lot since they were still good “friends” Even his coworkers would talk about her a lot. You knew you could never compare to Annie, since she was prettier and smarter and just- more Deacon’s type….

You tried your best to get along with Deacon’s friends, since you loved him so much and you wanted this relationship to work out. 

One day you decided to visit Deacon at the SWAT HQ and bring the team some cookies. Walking towards the HQ kitchen you overheard Deacon talking about you. Pausing you stood still listening in to what was being said. 

“I mean I love Y/n but- she's just not Annie yknow? Annie was always so happy and sweet while I feel like recently Y/n has been pulling away from me. What if she's cheating on me?” Deacon said aloud. He had no idea you heard him. You could feel like crying and your heart dropped to your stomach hearing his words. The man you loved so deeply just accused you of cheating on him.

Quickly turning on your heel you rushed out of HQ still holding the plate with cookies you brought. Getting into your car you drove away towards a nearby beach to sit and think.

You always felt like you were in second place in David's life, but hearing him accuse you of cheating just made you feel even worse. Maybe agreeing to this relationship knowing how much he still liked Annie was a mistake...

Deciding to pull out your phone you sent him a quick text saying “We need to talk. It's important.” Before putting your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and driving home. 

Deacon was already waiting at home for you with a worried look on his face and upon seeing you he started asking a million questions as to where you were. 

“I think we should break up.”

You interrupted him, Deacon's face fell and he looked hurt and confused. “But I thought-” You just shook your head no. “This isn't working. I'll never be first place for you. It'll always be Annie since she's your first and only true love. I overheard what you said at the station and I just can't keep doing this. I can't keep on feeling like I'm less important to you.” You said while wiping away a few tears. 

“Y/n sweetheart….that's not true. I love you and you're my number one girl. Annie is just a friend to me. I've known her for so long it wouldn't make sense for me to just cut her off suddenly.” Deacon said while frowning. 

“I'm done. I'm sorry Deac, I'll go pack my things now. I'll come grab the rest of my stuff tomorrow.” You said while heading further into the house and towards your shared bedroom before grabbing a bag and packing some essentials while Deacon just watched with pure heartbreak and anguish written all over his face. “But we can still be friends right?” He asked nervously to which you shook your head. 

“I think it's for the best if for now we don't contact or see each other for some time.” You replied while zipping up your bag. “I'm sorry David.” You said softly while kissing his cheek one last time before heading out of the door. 

It wasn't fair to either you or Deacon. You knew he always loved Annie more. I mean she's perfect…

-

A few weeks later Deacon and Annie started to date again and seeing their new photos on the social media platforms you were still following Deacon on, you felt like crying. You always knew it would probably end up like this. You'd get your heart broken and Deacon would end up with Annie. But at least you broke the cycle of constantly getting your heart broken every time Deacon sang praises about Annie right…?

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 05

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, bad words, drug addiction, violence, betrayal.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

If they thought you weren’t lucid enough to make decisions, now they could be certain of it. But the truth is, you had never been so sure about anything. All you wanted now was to quiet the storm of voices inside your head, and the environment you were in wasn’t helping much.

“Please, boys, give us some privacy,” Gerard, the executive, requested, never stopping the pen spinning between his fingers. Apathetic gaze, controlled breathing, minimal facial expressions. Let’s just say your current boss wasn’t an easy man to read between the lines.

The gum in your mouth gradually lost its flavor, and the rubbery texture sticking to your molars seemed stiffer with every chew. It matched the tension in the room as glances crossed over the table, both of you waiting for the boys to leave.

“This must be some kind of terrible joke.”

“At no point did I say it was a joke,” you replied simply, eyebrows raised, making it clear how little you cared about the conversation. “I want to go back to Richmond.”

There were things you had learned from Noah without much effort, and one of them was hiding everything behind a blank face and short sentences.

“Can I know the real reason you’re acting so high and mighty, throwing away your career and, as a bonus, sabotaging my band, where I’ve invested money, time, and effort?” he asked, tapping the pen against the wooden table. “But I mean a real reason, something I should actually take seriously. Not your tantrum with one of your colleagues after he got tired of screwing you!”

His words seemed deliberately harsh, and you had expected this, knowing that any weapon he had to hurt you, he would use. But nothing moved you so easily, and he would need to try a little harder.

“Gerard…” His name left your lips almost like a song. “I’d like to remind you that this band you’re so eager to protect when you throw in our faces every dollar you’ve invested belongs to me and the boys, nothing more. I don’t remember seeing you in any of those dark attic meetings when Bad Omens was nothing!”

With utter calm, you adjusted your posture in the chair and crossed your legs, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s so easy for you to come in now, after signing a piece of paper that grants you rights to four albums and a percentage of the merchandise, and act like that makes you the owner. But that’s not how it works,” you continued, leaning toward the table. “Bad Omens owes you the last album, which I just contributed to by writing the song. So my part is done. The tour can go on without me; Noah can handle it.”

Gerard listened attentively to every word, tracing an invisible line on the table. A raspy laugh escaped him, and it was impossible not to furrow your brows, wondering what the hell the old man found so amusing.

“Someone here didn’t read their own contract, did they?” Something about that question wiped the expression off your face instantly. “When you signed with the label, there was a clause in bold letters about all members remaining until the end of the contract. The absence of one results in a breach, with a penalty of up to 40% of the band’s earnings to date.”

“You…” you spat out in disbelief. “How dare you say that when you’ve spent the last few years sabotaging our band to favor your son’s? We can’t have our own marketing team, our social media is controlled by you, and we can’t even choose our release dates!”

If the band had ever played at big festivals, the credit should go to the connections they made along the way, using them as stepping stones. From the way Gerard spoke, it almost sounded like they did an excellent job and the members were ungrateful.

Five starry-eyed kids, elated at the possibility of someone finally betting on their band. All intoxicated by the promise of a better life and being heard, with zero knowledge of how things actually worked. Easy prey for a man like him.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, spinning his chair until he was facing you again. “You want to destroy the band, the same band you arrogantly claim as yours. But let me tell you, outside that door, you and those four idiots own nothing!”

He snapped his fingers in the air.

“Most of the money you’ve earned would be spent on penalties. The name Bad Omens belongs to me until the contract ends, as do the rights to the last three releases. Noah wouldn’t be able to sing Just Pretend even in the shower without paying me for every line. Got it? Or has the crap you sniff already rotted your head?”

Your fists clenched so tightly on the table that you could hear the joints crack from a distance. Gerard had never mentioned anything like this before; nothing had ever threatened you until now. From this vantage point, you were beginning to see a different side of him.

He walked around the table until he was beside you, and the warmth of his breath stirred strands of hair on your shoulder as he leaned in close to your ear.

"If you leave, the band ends. That’s the simplest outcome. But do you really think that’s what they deserve?" he taunted. "If my memory serves me right, it’s you who owes him. Isn’t it?"

"Get away from me," you growled through clenched teeth.

"I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly a desirable prison for me either, given the mediocre artist you’ve turned into over the past few years. You ruin your own performances, bring nothing new, and are declining in every sense." His voice was laced with scorn as he gave you a pointed once-over. "Your exit would definitely be a win for the band, but that idiot Noah doesn’t see it that way, and I’m not in the mood to cancel another tour because of you two!"

Back to square one.

The band had gained traction in recent months, but not enough to make money a non-issue—especially with Gerard overloading the schedule with more shows and commitments than anyone could reasonably handle. You had savings, but doubted they’d cover even half the cost of a breach-of-contract fine.

"You’d rather keep me working against my will, even though I’m visibly showing signs of physical and mental exhaustion?"

Like an overheated device forced to run nonstop without a break or a chance to be unplugged, that’s exactly how you felt. When the weariness in your mind seeped into your body, causing pain in every part you could name, it was like a flashing red warning sign in front of your eyes.

"If we’re being honest? I don’t care what you really want. I don’t care if you have to drown yourself in drugs to keep standing on that stage. I don’t care if you wreck your skin or drink yourself into oblivion after another fight with him, as long as it leads to you writing a decent song." He sighed, almost satisfied. Gerard pulled something from his pocket—a vial with a white substance—and placed it in your hand. "Keep your word and don’t be selfish by destroying your friends’ dreams. If you truly love Noah, you know what needs to be done. He already knows you’re weak; you don’t have to prove it all the time."

The entire conversation spun in your head like a rollercoaster of words. You wanted to punch him, to shove his teeth inward and make him swallow every personal insult he’d hurled about your life and your damn history. Seeing the triumphant smirk he wore after renting a space in your mind wasn’t part of today’s plans.

Clutching the vial tightly in your hand, you turned your back on him and slammed the meeting room door behind you. Leaning against the other side, you processed everything again, forcing yourself to search for the smallest crack you could cling to in order to flip the script. Being in his grasp was suffocating, like being suspended by thin strings against a wall.

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted when you sensed someone’s presence. The scent reached you before he did, and your eyes closed as you clenched the vial tighter before shoving it into your pocket.

"I need to talk to you about what happened today, and don’t even try to tell me—" The harsh tone Noah used dissolved in a fraction of a second, his eyes shifting from furious to melancholy. "Are you crying?"

"Do you mind getting me out of here?" you pleaded, watching as Noah nodded slowly.

He walked beside you through the entire floor, waiting for you to step into the elevator before following close behind. During the descent, there was the sweetest silence, but you knew him well enough to tell he was agonizing over the words piling up inside him.

For some reason, he continued to respect your wish to say nothing.

As you reached the building’s exit, your steps froze, and Noah looked at you in confusion. When his eyes followed yours across the street, you heard him murmur something with a heavy sigh.

In a swift motion, Noah removed his cap and placed it on your head, pulling up your hoodie and sliding on a pair of sunglasses. It wasn’t perfect, but it was what you had.

Across the street, you counted six girls wearing the band’s T-shirts. They seemed like ordinary fans, phones in hand, but any group of fans had started to terrify you over time. You never knew how they’d react to seeing you, and that paralyzed you in place.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Noah tried to provide as much reassurance as he could, pulling you closer into his hoodie. It shouldn’t have been this hard—just a few steps and you’d be in the van. Nothing could go wrong.

"Noah! Noah! Noah!" one of the girls shouted excitedly as you walked in a straight line. "Can we get a picture?"

"Girls, would you mind giving us some space?" he said gently, almost surprisingly. "We really can’t stop right now."

"But we just want a picture with you!" she insisted, her tone hardening.

"And I just want you to let us pass!" he snapped, dragging you along to keep moving.

"Noah would never refuse to take a picture. It’s all her fault!" she muttered to the others. "Every time they’re close, she pushes them away from the fans!"

The last straw broke the camel’s back.

A sigh escaped your nose as you ripped off the cap and sunglasses with the same speed you broke free from Noah’s hold, spinning around to face the group.

“WHAT?” You dared to ask again, as if you hadn’t understood.

“Exactly what you heard! Every time you come back, you drive him away from the fans! Your mother is right when she says you’re a disgrace because you don’t just ruin your life—you’re ruining Noah’s too!”

“GO TO HELL, YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

Everything happened too fast. After screaming, you pounced on the girl like a leopard on its prey. Your still-injured hand, cut from smashing the mirror earlier, struck her face, the same face you relentlessly hit with blow after blow.

The flashing cameras capturing the scene didn’t faze you. You’d escaped the cage, desperate for the release of your fury. The metallic scent of her blood filled the air as she squirmed beneath you, but you pinned her torso down with your legs.

“Yes! Show them who you really are!” she shouted in between the slaps that turned her head from side to side. “A deranged lunatic who shouldn’t be allowed in society because you act like an animal.”

A strong grip on your waist yanked you back, forcing you out of your dominant position despite your resistance. Overpowering your screams, Noah threw you over his shoulder and stormed toward the van with long strides. You fought to break free along the way, but with no fans left around, he ensured you couldn’t return to the battlefield.

In the backseat, you focused on pressing the blood-soaked bandage against your fists, deliberately adding pressure. The sharp sting of pain and the remnants of glass shards still embedded in your skin kept you awake, the sensation clashing with the adrenaline surging through your chest.

“You’re going to need a stronger bandage for your hand,” he said, looking down at you. Noah was holding back a laugh with considerable difficulty. “And guess what? Everyone else left, so you’ll have to accept my help.”

“Fine.”

Noah hesitated, clearly surprised by how quickly you agreed, undoubtedly questioning if he’d heard you correctly.

“Huh… well, that wasn’t so bad. Actually, I’m impressed you still have decent reflexes,” he teased, nudging you with his elbow. “What did you say? POW! POW! POW!”

The way he pitched his voice high and reenacted the fight scene made you burst into a long laugh. Slowly, you shook your head, denying that you were giving in so easily, but there were exceptions when he reminded you of the old Noah.

“Wow!” he said, raising his eyebrows. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile at me like that.”

“Well, it’s not like you give me many reasons to.”

The van stopped in front of the place you’d called home since the breakup—a small space with furniture still wrapped in plastic, its windows sealed like no one lived there. Noah scanned the area, inspecting every detail, including the pile of unopened mail. Something on the wall seemed to catch his attention.

“You still have this,” he remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he touched the lightning bolt keychain hanging among your keys. He used his index finger—the one adorned with the ring you had given him. “It was the only thing my money could buy back then. A stupid keychain.”

It was never just a stupid keychain to you.

“When you moved out, some of my things came with you, and if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like them back.”

Your mind tried to sift through what he might be referring to. Clothes, records, books—maybe even his glasses. Yes, plenty of things had come with the move.

“I…”

The words lingered, dying at the edge of your lips.

“I got rid of everything that was yours.”

“Everything?” His eyes cracked like poorly cut crystal, his voice betraying a shift in tone. “You didn’t want to keep any part of me?”

And in that moment, Noah wasn’t talking about material possessions.

“No, Noah.” You clutched your palm as if it could hold you up, resisting with everything not to let your voice break. “I didn’t want any part of you.”

Reluctantly, he smiled, but his tearful eyes betrayed him as droplets rolled down his cheeks. Sniffling to fend off the emotion, he wiped his face quickly, inhaling deeply as he straightened and looked at the ceiling.

“Thanks for today. I’ll manage from here,” you assured him firmly, taking a step back. Noah nodded and adjusted himself to head toward the door but hesitated, stepping back as if he’d missed something.

“If your plan to leave the band failed, unfortunately, I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow,” he said, his expression shifting as quickly as a gust of wind. “But I expect you to value my time this time. I can’t deal with your lack of professionalism anymore, and I won’t let it slide from now on.”

At last, he turned his back, and the door closed as you allowed yourself to collapse into a fit of sobs, sliding down the wooden frame. Through your gasps, you thought you heard something on the other side—a sound so similar, just as anguished, slicing through the walls of your chest without anesthetic.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

post-s2. good omens mascot here, coping unhealthily.

This is the first proper post I'm writing since the audio breakdown, good thing I queued a POTC one last week, I suppose. Yes I slept through the entire day today, missed the theatre workshop I was supposed to attend and may or may not be listening to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square on loop. Have an update on my coping because my social life and family are both Tumblr now:

Every song is about them now. A lot were before, but now every single one. Even an old Hindi song from a 1900s Indian military movie that I have not watched, by the way. But the lyrics (thank you Google translate) are: Everybody wants a handful of the sky, everybody searches for a handful of the sky, there is a world waiting to be hugged to the chest, the moon is a fair full of stars, but this heart is still lonely. And of course that makes me think of Crowley as the starmaker. Ow.

I made the very intelligent decision to rewatch the first three episodes of season 2, knowing what the Job minisode and the Edinburgh minisode do to me. I'll be here clutching Crowley, well, hugging him close to the chest, just like that song... ah, fuck, here we go again.

I listened to you all and am drinking a lot of water, since my tear ducts were emptied yesterday and now I'm unable to cry. I also ate too much chocolate.

I searched for sad Aziracrow edits and watched them. Don't look at me. I'm in a hell of my own creation.

I used too many emotions last night and now I feel hollow and achy. Maybe I should cope with humour and write the summaries.

Or maybe that will backfire and I will be filled with horrifying levels of emotion.

I slept. A lot. Many hours. Lots sleep.

So. Well. You know. Adopted child of divorce. You were all right, this is exactly like dealing with a breakup or divorce, but much more painful.

Someone please, please, please stop me from clicking the Crowley whump tag to find fanfiction.

I remember my initial Good Omens posts. I remember calling the fandom sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, and also pointing out how you all blame Neil and then sit and make headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

I was so right. Look at me now, sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, making headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

Wahoo.

[deppiet]

About the yassification of GO2.

Warning: the following text is highly critical of the second season of Good Omens. If you enjoyed it, I am happy for you, and a non-negligible amount of jealous as well. Please scroll past before I inevitably rain on your fandom parade.

So, I did the thing. I binged the entire second season of what was, up to now, my favorite show ever, in one sitting. And I have a great deal of things to say, but hardly any of them is positive.

Let me start by saying that I don't mind the cliffhanger or the melancholy ending, like at all. In our era of Marvel apologists and the instant gratification culture, it is necessary for media to persevere and add nuance to romantic relationships. That said, what transpired during the six hours leading up to this sort of unearned climax hardly contains anything remotely close to nuance.

Who are these people? I don't mean the new characters, all of them written as cardboard-cut anthropomorphic personifications of stereotypes, yassified to the point of representation losing its purpose and getting in the way of, you know, actual writing. I mean the protagonists themselves, Aziraphale and Crowley, up to now my favorite characters in the entire world and -up to now- tangled in a love story so beautiful I had, for better or for worse, devoted a large part of my creative output on it, making art, songs, and metas on why what those two entities had was as close to perfect as anyone can hope to find for themselves.

These are not the characters I knew. The characters I knew spent hundreds of human lifetimes revolving around each other in a treacherous yet familiar dance- they both knew the love was there, it was comfortable like an armchair that has taken the shape of the body using it for years. They argued the way old couples do, and of course, like all fictional beings that are counterparts of one another, had differences to settle, but what stood in their way wasn't misunderstanding or miscommunication, in was their fear of Heaven and Hell, and their fundamentally different approaches on how to keep each other safe.

What is all this teen angst? This will-they-won't-they silliness that lacks any nuance, thematic coherence, or literally even trace amounts of understanding of the source material? Where is the dark humor, the quotability, the chaotic overarching plot, the self conscious camp? The season is so cynically written to cater specifically to a certain part of fandom, that I am losing respect for the original work- because if Neil Gaiman doesn't care for these fictional beings, and he evidently doesn't, why should I?

The thematic core of what made Good Omens what it was, had always been the "Love in unexpected places" trope Sir Terry Pratchett knew how to write so well. It had never been about the fantasy, because Sir Terry wrote satire wrapped up in a supernatural package, it had never been about the romance, because when the ship becomes the end instead of the means, the love rings hollow, like artificial light trying to pass as sunshine. The beating heart of GO lies in its philosophy, in the beautiful notion that the agents of two oppressive systems at war have more in common with one another than with their respective oppressors. That being a nobody, a mere cog in a larger machine, says more about said machine than it does about you, and that you can try to break free and build a life for yourself, where a happy ending looks like a dinner at the Ritz with the one you love most.

Shoehorning an underdeveloped "romance" between Beelzebub and Gabriel not only feels like bad fanfic (disclaimer: I like the ship and feel like it could have worked if developed in any capacity, and presented in a more humorous and character-appropriate way. I hate with passion how much they watered down Beelzebub in order to make them stereotypically romanceable, adding the Ineffable Bureaucracy to the ever-expanding list of characters I don't care about anymore.) but also, it muddles and grossly undermines the thematic raison d'être of Ineffable Husbands. If the ramifications for defecting and fucking off with the enemy were a slap on the wrist for the respective leaders of both sides, well surely the system can't be that oppressive after all. And if fear of the oppressive system wasn't, after all, what kept these beings apart, surely these two entities don't like each other as much as we thought. Or rather, one is reduced to a lovesick puppy and the other to a brainless husk of a character, a plot device, a means to go from place A to place B without spending much brainpower on the logistics.

And if these two new people got to kiss I care not, for they are not the same people I rooted for (props, though, to the actors, who gave, somehow, an almost Shakespearean gravitas to their love affair, underwritten and dumbed down as it was. They both love the characters, and it shows in the minuscule yet brilliant ways in which they added nuance where the script had none.)

What was that thing with the lesbians about? Though straight passing, I have always known myself to be attracted to women as well as men, and I am always highly suspicious when an "ally" writer (see: straight, no shade to straight people among which I live because they are, like, the majority) decides to make all characters queer, in the face of real-world statistics and despite NOT being queer themselves. When a person like Nate Stevenson does it they get a pass because writers self-insert and because, when done well, it can carry a message of equality. But when the ally writer does it, unless it is pitch-perfect, I am forced to examine the possibility of them being calculating about it and trying to score representation points, often because they need the rep as a fig leaf to cry homophobia behind when people start complaining about the atrocious plot.

Nina and Maggie were boring. They had no personalities, no cohesive backstories, nothing to make us understand what they are to one another and to the overarching plot ("plot" is used loosely here, for there was no plot: the series ended where it should have started, with six hours of -progressively more offensive to my intelligence- fanfic tropes in a trenchcoat serving as the, well, "plot"). I didn't care whether or not they'd end up together, because I have no idea who they are. The blandness of the dialogue had the actresses, both very talented as evidenced in the first season, grasping at straws with what little characterization they were left to work with, and the "ball" was so unbelievably bad a plot device no amount of suspension of disbelief was ever going to make it right.

The minisodes, though at parts clever and philosophical, felt out of place. This was another narrative choice I had to raise my eyebrows at, because it felt like a bunch of executives sat around a table and watched Neil Gaiman's powerpoint presentation of what made Season 1 financially successful. They were shoehorned in, largely irrelevant to the, eh, "plot", and most of them lasted far more than I personally deemed welcome, or necessary.

What else is there to say? The wink-winks and nudge-nudges to the Tumblr nation? The in-your-face Doctor Who reference? The narratively myopic choice to make Crowley a former archangel? The cheese dialogue, not one bit of which was quotable?

I am distraught. I am grieving an old friend, and a part of my fandom life I cannot, in good faith, return back to after this gross betrayal. I am happy for those who don't see it, because I wish I could love this season past its flaws. However, the writing isn't simply mediocre, it is irrevocably, immeasurably, undescribably bad, so bad I am shocked to my very core, so bad I find it offensive to Sir Terry's memory and everything his own creative output was lovingly filled with.

I am passing all five stages of grief and very much doubt I will return to this fandom. I loved the original story and the characters with all my heart- now the aforementioned heart is broken, not by the breakup or anything as pedestrian as cheap romantic tropes. But because my old friends, my family of fictional beings, are no longer the ones I loved and could relate to.

Deppie out.

[pitviperofdoom]

Any book recommendations? That remind you of fanfics you write? That inspire you? Or you just plain like?

Pretty much anything by Tamora Pierce, she's the kind of writer I want to be. The Protector of the Small series is my favorite of the bunch, but you do kind of have to read Song of the Lioness and The Immortals first, which are both also extremely good. They're all four-book series but I race right through them.

Favorite Neil Gaiman books are: Good Omens, The Graveyard Book, and The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao is Pacific Rim meets Handmaid's Tale meets Hunger Games in a science fantasy version of China. Great book if you love it when a female character is also a rabid honey badger.

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzie Lee. Bisexual british lordling goes on his Grand Tour with his best friend/crush, hijinks and manhunts ensue. I haven't read the other two books of the trilogy yet but I intend to.

Currently rereading The Lord of the Rings and loving it.

Tailchaser's Song by Tad Williams: cat-based xenofiction, but tone-wise it's more Watership Down than Warrior Cats. Rich animal fantasy with a kiss of cosmic horror.

Big fan of Jane Austen, favorites are Northanger Abbey and Pride and Prejudice. In the same vein, Evelina by Fanny Burney came out before Jane Austen's novels but occupies a similar vein of romantic satire of 18th century British society.

The original Arthur Conan Doyle Sherlock Holmes stories are genuinely so good, I need to reread The Hound of the Baskervilles.

The Redwall series basically raised me as a child. A lot of my feelings about how stories should go come from what I absorbed from Redwall.

If graphic novels count, Mouse Guard by David Petersen.

[brenna]

2024 fic roundup

Thanks for the tag and for making this, @cheeseplants

What fandoms do you write in?

Good Omens

The X-Files

How many words have you published in 2024?

179,059. (HOT DAMN)

What is your greatest achievement this year?

Not sure. I mean, the friends I made along the way? Corny as that may sound? But also joining events and such for the first time.

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

This is hard! You would make me choose between my children?! Anyway, here goes:

Midnight Ride - I feel like this one just came together beautifully, and I love being spooky and surprising the readers a little. And it's different.

Collaborative Activities - I feel like this fic was where I kind of burst onto the scene? As much as I'm in it. I'm just a little guy. But this sex pollen was my first event, and I am still very proud of it.

Where You Roost - Because it's unlike anything I ever thought I would write, and it came out so well.

I'm going to put Essentially Exactly the Way It Happened as an honorable mention, because it's not done yet. And I am having such fun with it. Also it's XF

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

I can't recall any?

What have you learned?

That I can have a WIP and not have to immediately post it. That it can sit and no one has to know about it and I can just keep improving it? I'm very impatient usually, lol. To have it written and not share it?! Hard.

Also, the joy of betaing things and having my work betaed.

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

Agh, so many. I have several ideas vaguely in the works. Everyone always has to hear about how much I want to do an XF/GO Crossover, though. And I WILL. My other ideas are secrets. Shhh...

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

Oh, goodness. I did so many, and they're all wonderful! I can't choose among them, honestly! No one that I betaed for should feel left out. They're all lovely! I'll put three, I guess. But there are so many more!

Cayuga Blush by asparkofgoodness (this one is a WIP, but I've read ahead, and I promise you, you don't wanna sleep on it)

Intersection: the Kiss and Union: Escalation by anna_bird (counts as one, OK. Don't mind that it's listed as two parts...)

A Season of Whale Song by DrConstellation (I'm only betaing later chapters, but the whole thing is chef's kiss)

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

JUST THREE?! I want to list like everything ever, and I CAN'T. 😭 These are in No Particular Order. And know that I want to list SO MANY others.

Naked and Afraid: Jingle Hell by klikandtuna

Sins of Knowledge by anna_bird

You Don't Need A License For That by WaitingtobeBroken

What ideas are percolating for next year?

All I'm saying is that when the Monster Banger's Bang posts y'all are in for a TREAT. I am so stoked about this one.

I've also got something a little Sci-Fi-esque in the early stages that I'm hype about.

And that GO/XF crossover WILL HAPPEN.

Who do you want to thank?

Everyone?! @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon for all the fun we always have. All my pals in the sex pollen server. There are too many of you to tag! But all of you! Everyone in Good Omens After Dark that I've recently gotten to meet. Everyone in Do It With Style Events Um, um, um. EVERYONE. This is too much pressure (runs to hide)

Anyone in my tags feel free to join in or in fact anyone at all. I'll tag a few more below. Tag, answer any Qs that suit and play along

(birddog, I'm not tagging you a second time, but also I AM). Everyone in the sex pollen server. @on1occasionfork @waitingtobebroken I don't have the patience or time to tag everyone. If I've ever spoken to your or commented on your fic I want you to do this! It's time for me to get ready for bed so I have to run away!!

[thisisntevenmyfinalblog]

I like Hazbin so far, but I do feel like we could’ve gotten a show with a lot more nuance and depth and less jokes about SA if it was written by someone other than Vivziepop, because let’s be honest… the best parts of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are fanmade or written by other people

For example, the song Addict is honestly one of the most iconic and popular songs related to Hazbin Hotel, but it’s a fan song.

The Helluva Boss Pilot was better than Hazbin Hotel’s Pilot (subjective) because it was actually written by someone else.

You can still like HH and HB just fine, I don’t care, but people keep defending Vivziepop like she’s this saint who has done no wrong, and attacking anyone who says anything critical abut her.

Anyways, Hazbin is okay. It’s kinda average, but it’s still enjoyable that I wanna keep watching. I love Sir Pentious, hate how he was treated in Episode 6, and hey, if I get sent death threats or smth I might as well say all my opinions right now so you all can get them out.

The writers don’t know how to write women like Vaggie or Cherri Bomb

Alastor is overrated and overhyped. He could use more personality, and more screentime doing ominous and tricky things, instead of just “shows up, says threatening line, refuses to elaborate, leaves”

People in heaven acting just as bad as people in Hell (like Adam) is not a good or unique take. Good Omens has done it, and they’ve also done it better. I did like that Adam leading the exterminations was something that not everyone knew about, but I don’t think Sera should’ve known about it either. Idk exactly, but I would’ve gone about it in a different way.

Bringing back the writing women thing, I also think Charlie’s writing can be handled a little poorly from time to time. The only thing keeping her afloat for me is that she is to Rapunzel what Hellsa is to Elsa.

I hate Mimzy’s design. I don’t know why.

Actually kinda liked Lucifer just being a weird dad, but he’s should have a better redemption arc before all that.

Not Hazbin Hotel specific, but why are shows so afraid of having more than 15 episodes in a season now? I know they want to cut out filler because they no longer need to run for a certain amount of time, but honestly? Hazbin Hotel needs more episodes. It needs more time to flesh out its story, and this honestly applies to a lot of other shows whose stories could’ve been great if not for streaming.

Stephanie Beatriz is a great actress so use her better. She did amazing as Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and Vaggie is… (no offense) just another of the badass Latina stereotype. Also, she is an amazing singer, but the super high octave in her and Carmine’s song did not do her voice any justice. It does not need to be that high, you can bring it down an octave or two.

I probably will have more complaints as more episodes come out. We’ll see. I still enjoy watching the show, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not perfect. Receiving criticism doesn’t mean it’s a terrible show, just that it has room for improvement.

If you read this far, thanks. I had to make a blog because I don’t have any other socials to say anything abt it on.

[alatismeni-theitsa]

i watched the first ep of kaos with my mom and I'm so confused as to why this show was made. Genuinely. My mother likes it but I'm just a bit flabbergasted. I'm not Greek, so I could be wrong, but it's just like...idk I think hadestown spoiled me lol. Why did Eurydice just die and not choose to leave Orpheus of her own will? I swear the only thing I liked about the first ep was Orpheus's song, but it's just like...eh? I don't know. I'm confused as to why this was even set in modern day. I checked if 'kaos' was a real thing in Greek mythology and it pnly comes up with the void before the universe was created. Idk I just find this show confusing. They couldn't have just used original characters?? Why did they use Greek gods? I am so confused lmao

This ask came before I released my review of KAOS , so I gave some priority to writing the review instead of answering asks, but honestly, I had the same question as you, anon. I watched the whole thing because I wanted to write the review and in the end I thought "Wait... that was it?" I want to see good Greek myth content and good shows out there. I was pleading with the show episode by episode to give me something. But it continued making no sense.

"They couldn't have just used original characters??" This was my question as well. Like... you have a family drama plot basically and the actors don't resemble or act like the Greek gods. At this point just make a Succession type of comedy and be done with it 🤷

IGN praised it more than it should (who trusts IGN fully at this point tho) but at least they wrote some very true things.

Shot in Malaga, Spain, and with an abundance of U.K., Irish, and American accents in the sound mix, the Cretan scenes feel more like spring break on the expat-infested Spanish Riviera. Maybe that was the intention. [...] It wouldn't be new for a UK production to Anglicanize stories inspired by classical antiquity or religious doctrine either – here's looking at you Atlantis, Rome and Good Omens. But the oversaturated cinematography and cheap, tacky-looking production design of both Kaos' earthly realm and tracksuit-loving Zeus's heavenly villa (complete with inflatable pink flamingos, gold jewelry, and a staff dressed like ball boys at a 1980s tennis tournament) dampens the epic stakes.

[...]

The result is eight hours of narrative excess ricocheting between intrigue and tedium, as it plods towards an un-thrilling finish line.

Preach IGN, preach. (A phrase I didn't expect myself to write for various reasons, but hey...)

Btw, Riddy didn't want to die, her death was an accident. She knew that she was going to die at some point but she had no control over her death.

[roseus-eli]

Welcome to my blog!

My name's Eli! (can be pronounced as e-lie or el-ee)

Everything you need to know is under the cut. :)

@angelic-pinkheart is my 2nd blog!

The LGBTQIA+ community is welcome here. :3

I do not have a specific DNI list, I think it's unnecessary, and I just block according to my preferences.

I mostly go by the pronouns she/her and they/them (mostly femme aligned), but he/him pronouns are fine too! Mixed pronouns are not a problem for me, either.

I am an afab bisexual aceflux (leaning towards asexuality) demigirl/genderqueer :)

I'm a minor. If you do anything that makes me uncomfortable, I won't hesitate to block you.

I'm Filipino, but I mostly speak English, although I'd be glad to talk to some fellow filos!

I love reading, especially books and fanfics! I also enjoy listening to music and sleeping. I also write, but I rarely post my written works anywhere.

My super duper besties are @cheeeryisaro and @jhikebipolar! You guys should check them both out sometime. :)

My online bestie is @amy-harper!

To all my fandom friends, you guys are also my besties. :]

My favorite fandoms and ships:

Honkai: Star Rail

No specific ships.

The Big Bang Theory

Sheldon/Amy (Shamy for life!)

Leonard/Penny (Lenny, my cuties)

Howard/Bernadette

Penny/Amy, because why not

Stuart/Denise

There might be more if I'm being honest…

Death Note

Light Yagami/L Lawliet

Light Yagami/Misa Amane

Light Yagami/Misa Amane/L Lawliet (I actually don't care too much about this one)

Doctor Who

The Doctor/The Master

The Doctor/River Song

Rose Tyler/The Doctor

Thirteen/Yaz

And many more because there are way too many ships to count

Detroit: Become Human

No specific ships.

Daria

Daria Morgendorffer/Jane Lane

I haven't really thought too much about the ships but here is another obvious one, Helen Morgendorffer/Jake Morgendorffer

Good Omens

Aziraphale/Crowley (ineffable husbands)

Archangel Gabriel/Lord Beelzebub (ineffable bureaucracy)

Again, there's probably more…

Spy × Family

Loid Forger/Yor Forger

Anya Forger/Damian Desmond

There's probably more fandoms I'm in but I lost count

(Keep in mind, I do occasionally reblog something that isn't related to my favorite fandoms :3)

My AO3 account: roseus_eli

My FF.net account: roseus-eli

also pls don't steal my pfp, I made it myself ;3

(This intro post will be updated every now and then.)

[madelinksi]

well god i just got sad, so here is a song lyric i wrote today

i’ll be the air to hold your silence

so take a breath, you won’t be alone

you built your walls up out of habit

let me show you a different life to know

what is the purpose, brick and mortar

when there’s heaven here at our feet

buildings all crumble like Babel

and i will always love the way

i will always love the way you speak to me

[chouxsardine]

The Lucky Ones -- Danny Wagner x reader

Summary: Does superstition still work its magic when it comes to love? --a spontaneous new year tradition leads to confessions between you and Danny

Pairing: Daniel Wagner x reader

Word Count: 3229

Warnings: mention of alcohol, cussing, superstitions, slight allusion to previous abusive relationship, insecurity

Genre: fluff, COTTON-CANDY-GRAPE LEVEL OF SWEETNESS, friends to lovers

Author's note: Here is a VERY LATE Danny's Birthday/New year fic and also my first time writing Danny! Inspired by the viral tiktok trend about amusing new year traditions. I find them very interesting. I wish everyone a belated happy new year and all the best wishes. Please enjoy :))

🎧: The Lucky Ones by Lana Del Rey (by now titles from song is canon lol I'm so sorry)

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

You have always been a superstitious person, not religious, not believing in magic or the supernatural, just superstitious. Yes, you do believe ghosts exists, and you try to cover your eyes and ears when watching horror films. You hold awe and veneration for some “higher power” like your primitive ancestors. Since childhood, you have always been meticulous about the details, from the direction in which your slippers are pointing at when you take them off before bed to what to eat for breakfast the day of your school theatre showcase. Growing up, many people misunderstood your behavior as symptoms of OCD, but only you know that it is merely the result of your obsession with coincidences and the compulsion to recreate the happiness they have brought to your life; far from being diagnosed as an disorder.

You are going to spent the New Year’s Eve with Danny. You have known each other since you were little kids and have been best friends for over two decades. Friends and families have been teasing you two about being together, and almost everyone thought at least one of you was going to make a move during Christmas. But, alas, nothing happened as the days passed, and here you are, about to draw an end to another year of your friendship. Your feelings for Danny have certainly have developed beyond just platonic level, but you also didn’t want to ruin the precious friendship you have built throughout the years. Plus, you have to admit that you are waiting for a sign. Ah, yes, it is your superstition at work—you believe that there will be an omen indicating the time is ripe to confess your true feelings for Danny. It is not very often that he gets a break from touring and returns home. For now, you just want to be close to him, spend quality time together, and create more memories.

It is safe to say that you nearly jumped off the couch when you saw the trend about “eating twelve grapes under the table at midnight of New Year’s Day for good luck.” How are you only seeing this the afternoon of December 31st? You are already at Danny’s, and the only food you brought over is your renowned passion fruit cheesecake.

“Danny? Do you have any grapes left?”

“What?” Danny yells back from downstairs.

“Do we have any grapes?” You look around the room. The fruit bowl on the counter is filled with limes, which are for making margaritas later. Oh, you should have known better.

“I don’t think so. Do frosted grapes count?” Danny enters the living room and opens the fridge door.

You watch expectantly as Danny opens the freezer section. To your disappointment, there are only five freezer-burned round objects that could hardly be identified as grapes huddled together in a ziplock bag.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Suddenly craving some grapes?” Danny asks amusingly.

“No…well, yes,” You defeatedly close the fridge door and show Danny the post you just read. “It says you’re supposed to eat grapes for good luck.”

“Hum…”Danny’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he skims the article. “I think grocery stores are still open today.”

That’s the thing about Danny. Although you try to hide your superstitious behavior from others, you are never afraid to be yourself in front of him. Instead of thinking you are weird or childish, Danny finds your “little rituals” cute and endearing. He never presses on with questions, which only makes you more willing to explain them to him. And Danny is one hell of a listener.

Nothing compares to the last grocery run of the year. Maybe last-minute Christmas shopping comes in a close second. You are prepared for sensory overload when you see the preoccupied parking lot.

“Looks like everyone forgot something for their dinner,” Danny pulls open the passenger’s side door. Panic suddenly struck you.

“What if everyone has read about it and grapes were sold out?”

“I guess we will find out in a minute.”

Your worries almost became reality. There were only a few bags left on the fruit shelf, and they were obviously being picked over—from the plastic packaging, you saw a few were squished and watery, the ones near the bottom looked withered and brown. But you were positive that you could knock together twenty-four grapes from them.

“I swear you’re my lucky star, Danny. I bet there would be none left if you didn’t come with me.” You sigh in relief as you put all the remaining three bags into the cart.

“That’s a lovely to hear, y/n. Anything else we need for auspiciousness?” Danny asks half-jokingly.

“Actually, we do!” You remember the title of the little pop-up link as you scrolled to the end of the article and saw it mentioned collard greens and black-eyed peas.

Collard greens were easy to find; the panic threatened to twist your stomach again when you didn’t see any canned black-eyed beans.

“Kidney beans…chickpeas…romano…lentils….” Your eyes move fast down each row. “They only have bags of dry beans and we don’t have time to soak and boil them!”

Danny is scanning the label with you until he reaches to the top shelf and grabs a can of mixed beans.

“Look, there’s black-eyed peas in mixed beans. We can just pick them out,” Danny suggests.

“Oh my god, that’s genius!” You perk up immediately.

“Just making good use of my height advantage, I guess,” Danny beams.

On the way home, you are humming along to Queens playing in the radio and clutching the grocery bag containing a bundle of collard greens, a can of mixed beans, and three bags of grapes in your arms, as if you are taking home a puppy from the shelter. Danny couldn’t help but smile at your little expressions of contentment; he loves how you are always able to preserve the childlike innocence to appreciate all the tiny beautiful things.

As soon as you get back home, you dive into further research. By dinner, you had watched a dozen of different videos and five more articles about how exactly one should eat the grapes, answering your question of which colour grapes should you eat (both are fine, and you made sure to buy both red and green ones), whether you should eat them at the countdown to the new year or the first minute of the new year (the latter) , and whether you should sit under a table while eating it (answers vary on this one, but you decided to do it under the table anyways).

Danny is washing the grapes at the kitchen sink.

“Y/n, do you want to pick out the twelve you’re gonna eat?” He asks as he drains them in the strainer basket.

“Oh yes! Thanks for washing them, Dan,” You scamper over. Danny looks so cozy and relaxed in his sweater. His curls tied back into a small pony tail, a few stubborn strands framing his face. The hot, attractive drummer on stage that has the fans screaming and swooning is so different from the huggable human-sized teddy bear that you get to see a lot more often, but it still has the little girl inside you all rosy-cheeked and fluttered nonetheless. For a moment, you are lost appreciating his profile, his lips slightly pursed, long eyelashes casting shadows as he looks down in concentration. The grapes look delicate in between his strong and lean fingers.

“Y/n?”

You are pulled back from your thoughts and bump right into Danny’s mossy brown eyes staring at you. You feel your cheeks getting hotter. Is it still normal to feel the butterflies even after you’ve been friends for so long?

“You are doing this together with me, are you?” You ask as you hold up two grapes to the light, turning and inspecting them as a gemologist. You never wanted to push your own habits and rituals onto others. You have learned from that mistake in past relationships and have since been careful about not coming across as the superstitious version of the lunatic “horse girl”. Although Danny has been considerably supportive about this—buying the grapes with you, coming up the clever solution with the beans, and now this grown ass man is leaning over the kitchen counter and being the judge of a “grape beauty pageant” —the insecurity deep down still peeks around the corner.

“Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t say no to some good luck for the new year.” You can tell Danny’s smile is genuine. Upon seeing the curve of his lips, you could heard the bubbles of second thoughts in your mind popping.

“Look, we even got the cotton candy kind of grapes, those are your favourite.” Danny holds up a bunch of particularly green and shiny grapes.

You almost let out a chirp at the sight of it. You must’ve ignored the label as you hurriedly picked them up at the store. As the name suggested, they do taste like cotton candy. When your teeth break open the skin, the juices are like pure honey pouring down your throat. “And they make the best frosted grapes too!”

“You’re right. We can make another batch with the left overs to ‘replenish our frosted grapes arsenal’.”

You feel a warm, tingling sensation on your palms. Itchy palms are a good sign, right?

Half an hour to the new year, you have already situated yourself under the bar table in the kitchen, the only table in the entire house that is high and spacious enough for two grown adults to crouch under.

“Mind your head!” You extend your hand to pad the underside of the table as Danny gets down on his knees and scoots next to you, almost bumping his head.

“Ooops, close call,” Danny sat down cross-legged. “You know what, I just realized my house probably wasn’t the safest if there was an earthquake or something.”

“Shhh….Danny!” Out of your superstitious habit, you immediately put your fingers on his lips to shush him without much thinking. “Knock on wood!”

Danny pliantly knocks three times on the table above his head, laughgin at your seriousness.

You withdraw your hand, the softness of his lips lingering on your finger tips. “I don’t think this little table is going to do much anyway if it really comes to that,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

The phrase came out his mouth so naturally, without a single second of hesitation. It transported back you into the time in kindergarten when you were pushed aside while waiting for you turn to play on the slide, you looked up through tear-blurred vision; the time when you were on a camping trip and you were nervous about stepping off from the canoe onto the river bank; the time in the scary escape room where your palms were all sweaty and your teeth were biting your bottom lip so hard that it almost drew blood…all these times, there were always a pair of steady hands beside you and a calming voice saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

You quickly blink a few times, getting back to reality and focusing on the two plates in front of you. It must looked like the weirdest “Girl Dinner”—a forkful of boiled collard greens, one tablespoon of black-eyed peas rinsed and drained straight out of the can, and twelve grapes (six green and six red).

“Okay, enlighten me on how to do this,” Daniel asks.

“So I looked into it a bit more. We are supposed to eat each grape along with each chime of the clock once it strikes twelve, but realistically I don’t think anyone can do that without choking, so we just have to make sure we finish all of them by 12:01. Then we eat the veggies and the beans.”

“Uh-huh, weird combinations,” Daniel muses.

“I know. That’s why I got us champagne afterwards to wash it all down.” You point to the two glasses not very far from you.

“Damn. All teed up.”

“Oh I almost forgot! One more very important thing: you are supposed to think about the wishes for the new year as you eat the grapes, one for each month!”

Your palms grew slimy again as your eyes glued to the counting down on the phone screen.

“Oh my gosh, Danny we are doing this…six, five, four, three, two, one!”

You close your eyes and start popping grapes into your mouth one by one. The excitement and adrenaline crush down the twelve preformed coherent wishes in your mind into word soup. Apart from the recurring ones like “health,” “safety,” and “happiness,” the letters spelled “Danny” again and again. Wishing Danny to stay happy and healthy, luck and success for the band and touring, hoping you get to see Danny more, spend more time with Danny, be with Danny….

You swallow down the last bite of your grapes as you open your eyes. You see Danny looking at you, smiling, his cheeks still puffed like a hamster from chewing. There is something magical about seeing the person you wished for right there the moment you open your eyes. It is like seeing the fairy godmother popping up on your birthday cake after blowing out the candles. You giggle as you both devour the greens and the beans, and your glasses clink together as you gulp down the champagne, releasing the satisfied “ahhh” exhale afterward.

“Oh wow.” You hold up the phone. The both of you watch as the seconds tick to 00 and the minutes change from 0 to 1.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

“Happy New Year, Danny.”

You two still sit in the not-so-comfortable position under the table, listening to the echoes of the chimes and the sound of fireworks in the distance, savouring the imaginary freshness of the new year, taking it all in like sniffling the smell of ink on the crispy pages of brand new books. Suddenly, you feel the warm feeling slipping away from you, as if visualizing a red line dropping on a thermometer. You don’t know if it’s the sight of the empty dishes and glasses or the adrenaline ebbing away, you aren’t prepared for the previously tamed insecurity to suddenly resurface. The aftertaste of the grapes turned sour in your mouth and made your skin crawl.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Sensing the change in your mood, Danny turns to you, immediately finding your hands and soothingly brushing circles on your palm with his thumb.

“Danny, are all these…am I…too much?” Your voice are incredibly quiet, fearing it will break. Before Danny can answer, you continue, “do you think this is too….childish and crazy?”

“Okay, y/n, take a deep breath,” you felt the warmness of Danny’s hands steady on either side of your cheek, grounding you in his loving gaze and gentle touch, “you’re not going to cry on New Year’s Day, that’s not good.”

You take in a shaky breathe, trying your best to ease the stinging feeling in your eyes as the tears threatened to spill.

“Good girl. Now, talk to me. What happened? Why are you sad all of a sudden?”

“Danny, I just felt like…” you are plagued by the flashback of the hurtful words of your ex, it still stings as you recite them, “I need to grow up and quit these stupid superstitious nonsense, quit fooling around like a five-year-old…and, and treating everyone around me like one!” You inhale deeply again to regulate your breathing.

“No, y/n. Look at me, and listen.”

“You don’t make eye contact with the microwave timer when it’s has 13 seconds remaining. You always try your best not to step on cracks on the pavement, which makes you sometimes do those goofy strides. You always visit every wishing well in the cities we travel to.”

Your eyes widens as Danny recounts each of your weird little habits chapter and verse. Wait, he remembered all of them?

“I don’t give a fuck what other people have said about them, and I wish you don’t either.” Danny always tries not to swear in front of you, so you know he really means it when he pulls out those words.

“They are what makes you…you. They are an essential part of being y/n, and that’s important. You should never second-guess or change yourself just because some asshole yaps about it. Remember that one time you told me you always cling on superstitions because you feel like good things don’t often happen to you in life, so when they do, you want to remember the way they come and try to make sure they visit the next time?”

You nod, your heart melting.

“Hearing that breaks my heart, y/n, because I think you deserve all the good things in life. It’s my wish that in the new year, this beautiful, kind, and wonderful girl in front of me will stay away from toxic people, keep the people that love and cherish her close, and always prioritize her own well-being.”

“My wish and my luck is seeing you be happy, you know that? I’m the luckiest man in the world when my girl is the happiest.”

“Danny…” You lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a few seconds to savour the moment. You feel like an air ballon fueled by the love in your heart, free and fearless.

“I really like you, y/n,” he said, “as a friend and more than a friend.”

“I like you too, Danny. My feelings are mutual.” The words automatically fall out your lips, as if they have been prepared for this moment for years.

“Yeah? You know what my other wishes are? I hope y/n can be my girlfriend. I want to prove to her how lucky and deserving she is of all the good things.” He is looking at you as if you are the most precious being in the whole world, and in this moment, you truly are.

“I think…I can make that wish come true.” You say timidly, your hands also cupping his jaw. You can feel the pulse on his neck, eager and quick.

“You know it’s also good luck to kiss loved ones on new year’s day, right?” He whispers as he draws your chin to pull you close. Without any hesitation, you attach your lips to his. The kiss is soft and loving, with the residual sweetness of cotton candy grapes.

Because you were closing your eyes and making your wish, little did you know, Danny was watching you every time he popped a grape into his mouth. Every wish he whispered silently in his heart is related to you. He hoped that you’d be by his side for all the twelve upcoming months. He would be the happiest man in the world if even one of your wishes included him.

It turned out that good things don’t always need a sign to happen. True love is always on the hunt; it may creep up on you or catch you by surprise, but either way, it will always find you in the end.

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

Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated

Do let me know if we want a tag list :D

Some more of my works: Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall

Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word

[radioisntdead]

There was a slight accident where I couldn't reply directly to the ask, so, screenshot, BUT I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS, I sent my friend Kirby like 30 voice messages about it on Instagram.

Unlucky visions

Song used

Warnings: the ending is a little rushed, and some parts are a bit messy, my apologies

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren,

Don't name him, don't name him

You were never the luckiest person when you were alive, people would stay away from you, or if they came close something bad would happen to them, you were used to having things thrown, splashed at you, maybe you were just born unlucky or maybe you smashed a mirror, ran under a ladder, had a black cat across your path, or did something to cursed you with an unlucky life.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

It wasn't a surprise that your afterlife was even more unlucky, after all you somehow ended up in hell! Maybe it was the pretending to be psychic and see the future, you did scam a good amount of people doing that! It wasn't your fault they were gullible enough to fall for it though!

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him

It didn't matter now, what done was done.

Hell wasn't all bad yes it was you had a decent apartment with a surprisingly competent landlord, you had a decent job, you adopted a hellish cat with stunning black fur and a quadruplet set of eyes that reminded you of mint.

Toquen madera y quemen benjui

Knock on wood and burn benzoin

Oh, and you could actually see the future now! It wasn't anything too big to handle, at first anyways, just a glimpse of what you'd have for lunch or that guy running across the street would run into a wall in a few moments! Or that lady was about to propose to her girlfriend?

But eventually they started getting more vivid, changing, after you saw the princess of hell try to promote her 'happy hotel' on television.

Your visions were no longer just what you'd have for lunch the next day, it was now of people you didn't know, glimpses of an alcoholic cat, a piece of a red coat getting torn, a whole musical number about sorry and getting thrown off a building.

They became frequent enough that they disrupted your daily life, and so you could only figure out one solution.

Miren quién se acerca, miren quién viene ahí

Look who's approaching, look who's coming there

You held on to your luggage, a tattered and battered four leaf clover pattered bag that was reminiscent of Mary Poppins bag, it held practically all of your belongings, your lovely Peppermint sat patiently in his carrier.

¡Es él! el yeta, el que agita mis pelos

It's him! The jinx, the one who stirs hornet's nests

You stood outside the very hotel that was the result of a possibility delusional princess's pipe dream, the very hotel that had been haunting your visions for the past couple of weeks.

El que todos dicen que es un pájaro de mal agüero

The one everybody says is a bird of ill omen

Su presencia arruina cualquier celebración

His presence ruins any celebration

You took a breath and knocked on the hotel doors, honestly you thought you should just stroll on into there, that's how hotels usually worked right? But it was a private property? You shook the thoughts away as the door was opened.

And it was just your luck that you were met with the Radio demon himself.

Y siempre al invocarlo una desgracia sucedió

And each time he's been invoked misfortune striked

Despite you being thrown off guard by the radio man, Your arrival at the hotel was warmly welcomed by Charlie, you were introduced to the other hotel guest, Angel dust, then the staff the alcoholic cat you saw in your visions, the hotel's maid who was focused on trying to kill roaches, Vaggie.

Dicen que es así, que así fue y será

They say that's how he is, how he was and will be

Much to your glee, the visions decreased, they were still present of course but back to normal.

Y que atrae desastres como si fuera un imán

And that he attracts disasters as if he were a magnet

You were never supposed to grow close to anyone, you were only there to stop your stupid visions and that was it, and once you were sure they stopped or when the hotel would inevitably fail you'd go back to your regular afterlife.

Que no nos vea y que no nos toque

Don't let him see us and don't touch us

Uh uh uh

Uh uh uh

But you found yourself growing close to the hotel residents, especially as the time passed.

Pentious coming into the hotel, the song about sorry, getting thrown off a building by Vaggie, Husk slipping away so he wouldn't get thrown off the roof by Vaggie, everything you saw came to pass.

Que a nadie se le ocurra saludar

Let no one think of greeting him Uh uh uh

you grew close with the majority, unconsciously using the visions you saw to prevent them from getting hurt or preventing disasters.

No vayan a gritar su nombre

No one go yelling his name

It was good, for the time being, that was until the visions started getting worse again.

Porque llama a la fatalidad

Because he calls for fatality

This time it wasn't just one possibility of the future like before, but multiple.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

Some where the hotel succeeded, some where it failed, sinners redeemed, sinners massacred, visions where the hotel crumbled, where Charlie is betrayed, where she's not, where the people you spent the majority of your time with perished or where they thrived.

So many routes, so many possibilities filled your head.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

No, don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

No, don't name him, don't name him, no!

You couldn't do anything but curl up on the floor of your room, holding your head and try not to cry as your little scruffed up cat meowed beside you, headbutting you as a way of comfort.

Todo lo que toca lo echa a perder

Everything he touches he brings to ruin

You boarded yourself up in your room, letting the visions consume you.

Igual que el rey Midas pero al revés

Like King Midas, but the other way around

Eventually Charlie got worried and broke in, it was a jarring experience to see someone she liked to consider a friend, curled on the ground, in a puddle of their own tears and sweat, mumbling incoherent words

"Fue él" lo acusan cuando pasa algo grave

"It was him!" They accuse him when something serious happens

You remember feeling Charlie put her hand on your shoulder as Vaggie came in, you heard her drop something followed by footsteps before seeing her infront of you.

Pero en lo cierto es que en verdad nadie sabe si él sabe

But what's certain is that, in truth, nobody knows if he knows

You could barely tell the future and present apart.

Cuando su fama comenzó como un rumor se propagó

When did his fame kick off? How did the rumor spread?

You felt Vaggie hold your head up as a cup of water was held to your mouth, you faintly heard Charlie asking you to drink, who knew how much fluid you had lost, and dehydration was a horrible way to die.

Again.

¿Quién fue el primero que lo estigmatizó?

Who was the first to stigmatize him?

You had no idea how long they were there for, minutes? Hours? But the visions finally ceased leaving you to explain the visions you were cursed with.

Porque una vez marcado siempre lo señalarán

Because once marked they will always point to him

Quien se hace piedra, piedra morirá

He who turns to stone, stone will die

From that day it was common for you to hide away in your room for a while when the visions would get overwhelming, Charlie or Vaggie would cover for you, making excuses that you were ill.

Uh uh uh

Toda la vida cargara ese peso

All his life he will carry that weight

Your mental state started to deteriorate, it was visible, it showed with the eye bags under your eyes, the void look in them, your room became overran with notes about what you saw, poorly drawn doodles that in all honesty were horrifying.

Uh uh uh

Y ese peso acabará con él

And that weight will be the end of him

Uh uh uh

Sometimes you told Charlie or Vaggie about them, sometimes parts slipped out to Husk when you decided to drink in order to dull the pain of the visions.

Y un poco en broma, un poco en serio

And half-jokingly, half-seriously

Será el blanco de una risa cruel

He'll be the target of cruel laughter

It wasn't uncommon to see you hurl yourself across the hotel in order to stop a cup from falling because apparently it resulted in someone getting decapitated.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

No, don't name him, don't name him, no!

Before you knew it though, visions of the upcoming extermination day appeared.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

You breathed heavily as you laid curled on the floor of your room.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

No, don't name him, don't name him, no!

You heard Peppermint meow and paw at your face, you couldn't afford to have one of these vision frenzies.

Extermination day was coming up quickly, everyone was preparing, training away.

No tiene explicación y es anti racional

It has no explanation, it's irrational

You were no different, training and preparing amongst the residents of the hotel along with the residents of cannibal town.

Como en la inquisición, cazando brujas por cazar

As in the Inquisition, witch-hunting just because

You eventually forced yourself to get up and write down what you saw, not daring to show anyone for fear of indirectly causing one of your more negative versions to come to pass.

Y quien dice que no, que uno no será también

And who says no? That one won't be too

Sin justificación, otro innombrable a quien temer

Unjustifiedly, another unmentionable to dread

Before you knew it was extermination day was upon you, the night before wasn't that bad for you, having drank a concerning amount of alcohol you were able to dull the visions out enough to be able to have a nice time with your friends, if it was for the last time you didn't have any complaints.

Y escondemos en un saco de otro

And in a torn sack we hide

Uh uh uh

La cobardía de no aceptar

The cowardice of not accepting

Parts of your visions came to pass, parts that you had prayed wouldn't, Sir Pentious had fallen, along with many others, Alastor was nowhere to be seen leaving you to worry that Adam had in fact, killed him.

Uh uh uh

Cargándole la culpa a otros

Making others bear the blame

You let out the biggest sigh of relief when Niffty had stabbed Adam and the rest of the exorcists retreated back where they came from, you were filled with joy that none of the more horrific visions of yours came to pass.

De las cosas que nos salen mal

Of the things that go wrong for us

You didn't have any more visions as The hotel was rebuilt, you didn't have any visions for a while after.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

Your mental health improved greatly, you were getting the sleep you needed, you no longer had to write down any notes of the things you saw.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

It was nice.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

But all nice things come to an end, after more sinners started joining the hotel your visions started again.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

But they weren't horrific like the ones you had before, they weren't terrifying, they didn't haunt you in your dreams.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

No lo nombren, no lo nombren

Don't name him, don't name him

Your visions were good, showing that the hotel had a bright future, not without its challenges of course, not without hardships, not without resentment and regrets, but it was for the most part bright.

No lo nombren, no lo nombren, no

Don't name him, don't name him, no!

For once you couldn't wait for those visions to pass.

GOOD EVENIN' FOLKS! THIS WAS SO MUCH EDITING, also I got the idea for this fic and the song from an encanto animatic! I used to be in the fandom, never wrote for it though, anywho! I DO HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THANK YOU FOR TUNIN' ON IN! I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF YOUR NIGHT FOLKS!!

ALSO PEPPERMINT DOODLE

Psst! join our discord!

[toniko]

books, it’s about books. don’t read, too long. just something incoherent and unrelated

but did I get brain damage after reading so many idol dramas? yeah I should continue reading illusion/misunderstood hunter in another world yeah? blossoming blade? isn’t there a very long list of novels left to read…? stephen king’s fairy tale, good omens, song of achilles, hound of baskervilles…. is it right I keep buying more books and read them at a pace of once a year? to be honest, as much as I cherish reading as an experience, I spend too much time digesting everything I read. even the webnovels take 30 minutes to read because I read it slowly and thoroughly. it’s not a bad thing but isn’t it ridiculous when there’s so much to experience and so little time? contrary to what happens when the passage of time hits most people, ive become a slower reader over the years. is there enough time to read English & Chinese works? honestly my Chinese is hardly good enough to read well but id like to read one of the 4 great classical works in its original language.

My issue is that I'm particularly distracted all of the time, so my discipline isn't great and I'm nearly as well-read as I'd like to be. So I end up researching and buying so many books that there is a ridiculous backlog of all genres, times and no solution in sight. If I can't schedule my winter semester classes, should I just sit down and read? Haha. If I spent all the time I used thinking about reading to actually read, wouldn't I have made progress by now? It's no use.

I have particular interest for German literature… Kafka, Goethe, Hesse… oh Hesse… personally I impulsively bought Klingsor’s Last Summer in German (what the f*ck am I doing man). I’ve been a halfassed third into Faust by Goethe for a while now since I like play scripts but I wonder if I should try something else. By the way, Hesse has a fun and easy to read through writing style. Siddhartha wasn't a topic I personally cared much for, but Beneath the Wheel has been fun. I put it down a lot because I'm a student and I'm groaning about my education a lot as well.

Russian lit is also rather interesting but it’s known to be grim, no? I recently had to read The Death of Ivan Ilyich Tolstoy for a class and it is short but maybe a good segway in style into War and Peace. But to be honest, I haven't been in the mood for depressing works and the like. Anton Chekhov shows up in a lot of Russian literature discussions and I personally really love The Seagull. Of course, there’s the ever looming Crime and Punishment, seems like a fun read.

Anyway language and culture is inherently interesting. I think I end up exploring older classics and literature because as per the nature of art and literature, it’s written with its time period in mind. To be literal, I like the distance in time we have from the events that influenced these novels but also modern novels that cover grim topics make me sad. I'm a simpleton what can I say.

[callmemossbrain]

HGJALJFLS I WAS GOING THEOUGH MY DRAFTS AND FORGOT I WAS TAGGED TO DO THIS!!! THANK YOU @brainmoss FOR THE TAG EVEN THOUGH IT WAS MONTHS AGO <33

!!!

tagged by the oh so wonderful @brainmoss <3

last song? - literally, it's Everyone I've Never Met by Leith Ross (and you should listen to it too) but notable mentions are Cherry Wine by Hoizer (been on my repeat for a hot sec) and Night Shift by Lucy Dacus !!! (not the most obscure but!)

favorite color? - I'm a sucker for orange, honestly, don't know what it is- but i painted my bedroom orange and im still in love with it. (I'm also a sucker for warm tones in general, like browns and also sage.)

currently watching? - oh god, nothing to be honest, I'm horrible at sitting through things ^ ^'

last movie? - so my parents watch movies while eating dinner and I've just kinda joined them, but I don't remember the last movie. I think it was The Lost Boys????? can't say for sure tho 🤔

sweet/spicy/savory? - mm, y'know, im gonna go with savory. i wish i had a better spice tolerance, but alas i dont, and i think i like richer sweet in general more, like dark chocolate or unique lattes. savory works best in most situations.

relationship status? - I'm surrounded by people who love and care about me, as I care about them, and that's what's most important and fulfilling to me currently!

current obsession(s)? - I've literally been eating this fic Old Vines by sevdrag (seventhe) like it's CONSUMED me. it's an AMAZING read by itself. a fucking inspiration for my own writing and I swear to God, even if you've never interacted with Good Omens you won't be disappointed or left in the dark by it. go read it it's incredible.

last thing you googled? - "target christmas tree sweater" ...

I bought it. (perhaps ill reblog with a photo of it later lol)

uh! I tag @technicallyaminecraftsimp @leonidas-king-of-sparta @catsushinyakajima @iamanonniemouse @skeletal-decay @neptunediary @thyming if you wanna do it!!! okay bye!

[celestialcrowley]

Good morning! Good whatever-time-this-post-finds-you!

My phone updated. Thanks, I hate it. Anyway, I had a bio pinned, but I took it down because I wanted my 6,000 years meta to be pinned. I’m currently on the side of procrastination — I should be working on my GO fiction, someone shout at me to write — so here is a little bit more in depth bio about the ghost behind this tumblr.

🥂🪽🐝

Real Name: Sarah.

Nickname(s): There’s a list. Caps, Ghost, Khas, Khasper, Khasper the Spicy Ghost, Pippin, Haands, Crowley, Ginger and Tapeworm.

Nickname Origin(s): Buckle up. Caps is an age old nickname that was given to me because I wear hats all the time. Ghost began with a chat group I used to be in eons ago. The different variants of Khasper were given to me at my very first job, but we collectively agreed to change things up a bit, and Khasper the Spicy Ghost was born. Pippin was given to me when the Lord of the Rings trilogy was first released. Haands was given to me by former coworkers. Their reasoning behind that is I’ve got big hands. Crowley was given to me by my work bestie, and Ginger was given to me by the rest of my coworkers for my only slightly red hair. Or maybe it’s for my fiery personality. Tapeworm is something my uncle calls me presumably because I’m always hungry, but isn’t that the nature of an actual hobbit?

Preferred Name(s): Ghost, Khasper, Crowley, Ginger or Pippin.

Ao3: Beyond_Ineffable.

Social Media(s): I have Facebook and TikTok. My TikTok is actuallyahobbit89 if anyone is curious. I’m hardly on it though. I’ll pop in to post a video and then disappear like a ghost.

State: Born in raised in Floriduha. It’s a state of chaos.

Birthdate: July 25.

Pet(s): I’ve got two dogs. Mycroft is a probably Dutch shepherd Australian cattle dog mix. I’ve never had him DNA tested, but his mother is an Australian cattle dog. Patch is a portly pitbull mix.

Hobbies: Writing, reading, listening to music and true crime podcasts and stand up paddle boarding.

Personality: Here’s the best way I can describe this. I’m a permanently exhausted pigeon who functions on caffeine, anxiety and not enough sleep. I’m shy and socially awkward, but once I’m comfortable with someone and know that I can completely be myself around them, the anxiety disappears.

Favorite Holiday(s): Big spooky fan, me.

Favorite Drink(s): Coffee, Ice sparkling water + caffeine, London fog tea and cranberry juice.

Favorite Food(s): Sushi, tacos, salmon, crepes, lasagna, sweet potatoes and chicken teriyaki.

Favorite Dessert(s): Pumpkin pie.

Favorite Color(s): Turquoise, but any shade of blue, really. It’s pretty.

Favorite Quote(s): “She walks in starlight in another world.” “The world is not in your books and maps. It’s out there.” “Why do we fall, sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.” “A witch ought never to be frightened in the darkest forest because she should be sure that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her.” “I know of witches who whistle at different pitches, calling things that don’t have names.”

Favorite Book(s): The Inheritance Collection and Neverwhere, which I still need to finish reading.

Favorite TV Show(s): Good Omens, Sherlock, Lucifer, The Exorcist and Hannibal.

Favorite Movie(s): Bad Samaritan, The Hobbit trilogy, The Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

Favorite Character(s): Crowley, Aziraphale, Furfur, Hastur, Pippin, Bilbo Baggins, Sherlock, John Watson, Father Marcus and Will Graham.

Favorite Actor(s): David Tennant, Michael Sheen, Martin Freeman, Tom Hiddleston, Anthony Hopkins, Jason Statham, Keanu Reeves and Mads Mikkelsen. It’s an accent thing and a hair thing.

Favorite Song(s): There’s too many. I’ll just drop this here. Whiplash Radio.

Favorite Music Genre(s): Mostly everything under the sun.

Favorite Podcast(s): Small Town Murder.

Have You Ever Met A Celebrity: Yes. Jimmie Johnson, a NASCAR driver, visited the very first job I had. He brought his daughter. Story time! My former coworkers were being a bit too extra around him — personal space, what personal space? — and he didn’t like it. I had not yet had a chance to speak to him, and I was told not to because he’s rude. I didn’t believe that, so later, I saw Jimmie was standing at the fence with his daughter. I walked over, said hello and asked him if his daughter would like to pet the dog. He said yes, so I moved the dog closer so she could pet him through the fence. She did, he thanked me, and that was our interaction. He was very pleasant.

Have You Ever Been To A Concert: I have not, unfortunately.

Do You Collect Anything: Yes. Coffee cups, gnomes and pocket knives. That’s a weird combination.

Do You Have Any Idols: Yes! Neil Gaiman. He’s a legend and someone I admire, especially when the writer’s block is slaying me.

Is There A Real Life Friend You Can Completely Be Yourself With: Yes! I made a tumblr post about him! We’ve known each other a long time.

What Are Your Interests: All things spooky. Ghosts. Graveyards. Stars. Galaxies. Planets. Everything about the solar system. True crime. History. Metaphysical things.

Where Would You Love To Travel To: Ireland. New Zealand. Scotland.

Is There A Random Fact About Yourself That You’d Like To Share: I like flamingos.

No pressure tags: @phoen1xr0se @ineffabildaddy @peregrintook @sad-chaos-goblin @spot-o-bodysnatchin @apocalypticginger-blog @crowleyscleaninglady @missdeliadilisblog @ritz-writes @ineffablemoist @turquoisedata @azirapalalalala @peachworthy @pretendygood @belladonna413 @jackinistafflower @aziraphalalala @scarecrowcloud @tragic-cosmic-magic @musingsofmaisie

It’s open to everyone, but here is an apology dance in case I missed anyone! 💚