#im so normal about them (lying through my teeth)

[kacetheplace]

in honor of chapter 3 of @infamous-if dropping soon, i wanted to get marlow in the public eye

so proud of how this logo turned out so here it is full size. coelacanth + horse canter = coelacanter! (seal-uh-cant-er)

[voltrixz]

(Tosses you some quick mspaint doodles) 

Would you guys believe me if I told you that I do have other fave tssm character(s) besides Electro 

(I will forever not be be beyond sad and mad that eddie and the venom symbiote did not get to grow and improve both together and apart and to slowly repair their relationship and previous realationships and realize how special their bond is and for them to become the lethal protector we all know and love and for them to do silly couple things together and be madly in love) (needed to see their complex, tragic, twisted yet beautiful and heartfelt lovestory in tssm so bad) 

[lanternlightss]

hi uh. doodle dump be upon ye

[chrispotatos]

Unfollowed- chris sturniolo

warnings: smut, p in v sex, idk what

summary: you saw chris' following and he makes you help unfollow them all since it bothers you so much.

a/n: i didn't proofread cause im too tired and i know im gonna regret it when i wake up.

a/n: this was inspired by one of @mattscoquette asks I'll tey and find it when i wake up but I'm literally about to crash out.

"im not playing around with you chris, so stop fucking smiling" you say through gritted teeth, pointing in his face.

You were currently yelling at chris about his insta following. You don't normally check his following because he has your trust and you didn't need too.

His fans were constantly messaging you about it so you checked and it was random only fan girls.

"Unfollow them!" you demanded, handing him his phone back. "why? you jealous" he let out a humorless laugh; infuriating you more.

"they don't mean anything to me" he added you felt as though he was lying straight through his teeth. If they didn't mean anything why couldn't he simply unfollow them "chris it was brought to my attention and it bothers me. unfollow. them"

"all of them" i added

"i don't know about you but this is really turning me on" he snorts grabbing your wrist and putting your hand on his crotch feeling his growing erection, not taking his eyes off you once; smirking. "chris.."

you were flattered while also shocked, for the most part. what you were saying probably wasn't even being heard and if so he liked it. The yelling and you trying to stand your ground and exert dominance, it was cute the affects you had on him showed profusely.

"go lay on the bed y/n" his stern tone made your pussy throb, you were now just as turned on as him.

chris got up from his gaming chair and walked over to the bed, where you were laying propped up on your elbows.

"you wanna demand thing, how bout you do me a favor and unfollow these girls for me, while i fuck you huh?" he told you, not asking nor suggesting.

He pulled your legs off the bed and flipped you onto your stomach, your ass sticking out against him. you let out a suprised gasp from the aggressive toss.

he threw his phone infront of you on his following list. "don't touch shit till i tell you to" you nod in response.

"oh c'mon baby, you were doing all that yelling, and don't have not one thing to say?" he teased. you shake your head making a chuckle leave his lips "alright then"

chris tugged your loosley fitted jeans off and threw them onto the ground leaving you in your panties. He unzips his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers and takes his aching dick out leaking with arousal.

he pulls your panties to the side to feel your soaked cunt, his semi cold fingers coming in contact with your core made you jolt. "Y/n" he warns.

your panties were pulled down and tossed to the side with some of your other article of clothing. you helped by also removing your shirt, but you gave up when you started struggling to take your bra off.

chris tugs your hair back and puts his hand under your mouth "spit" whatever you could form in your mouth you spit into his hand.

he strokes his length, with pre cum and your spit.

chris groans when sliding into your pussy this made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip letting out a muffled whimper.

"Start unfollowing. and say the name of the girls you unfollow too"

he ruts his hips into you, a loud moan following from the sudden movement followed by a low 'fuck'

your focus was on the phone but the sensation of pleasure was a distracting and manipulating your train of thought.

"I don't hear you" he reminds. His thrusts becoming more forceful and deep.

"paige- i unfollowed paige" you squealed screwing your eyes shut and opening them again to finish what was asked of you. "Im not letting you cum until you unfollowed every girl"

That made you fill with haste and begin looking at names quicker atleast you thought you were going quicker. "sid- sidney i unfollowed her" chris makes a makeshift ponytail and uses that as leverage to fuck into you harder.

his dick abusing your insides pumping in and out of your wet pussy. Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room. chris brings his hand down to your clit rubbing it vigourisly with pressure, leaving your mouth agape, whimpers and high-pitched moans exited your mouth.

"chris- i can't finish reading the names" you admit. "then i guess I'll just have to stop" he begins slowing down his pace "no!" You protest against it picking the phone back up

"thats what i thought"

"mia.. im close" you said "my names not mia" he lets out a humorous chuckle, removing his hand from your hair and hold your hips pushing in and out.

You are reaching your climax and trying so hard not to realese.

his movements were at an ungodly pace making you drop his phone and forgetting why you were holding it in the first place.

with a few seconds passing his actions were getting more sloppy signifying he was getting close to his orgasm.

there was one more girl left then you were done it's not like he followed a whole bunch of them just about 10 max.

"madeline!" you yell out the last girls name, hitting the unfollow button then finishing around him laying limp against the bed. chris feels you up with his seed, your juices mixing; as he plunges his twitching cock in and out of you riding out both your orgasms, he winced pulling out. heavy breaths leaving from both of you. chris flops down beside you on the bed.

waiting a few minutes watching, as your chest rises and falls; catching your breath. "lets get cleaned up yeah?" he suggested.

[medicasino]

EVERYONE GO LISTEN TO JHARIAH !!!! RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Heaven is Here

SYNOPSIS: Through many fleeting moments throughout history with a strange woman, Aziraphale and Crowley learn they accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth, stuck to reincarnate forever.

TAGS: Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader, fluff, slight angst, soulmate au (on accident), history, historical settings, no beta we die like men

WORD COUNT : 12,253

A/N: This fic is kind of accidental. I’ve always been more about Aziraphale/Crowley in this fandom than any reader insert, but one day I happened upon a Tumblr fanfic and had an idea. This probably won’t be a regular thing - except I am planning a sequel to this exact fic - but I thought why not. Im still more Aziraphale/Crowley.

55BC—————

"And you love this?" Crowley asked, holding the seafood up to the light as though it would reveal to Aziraphale all the disgusting little details.

"It's delightful!" Aziraphale insisted, showing Crowley how to eat the oyster. "Try it, dearest. You might just enjoy it."

Crowley pursed his lips, not wanting to put whatever the hell this was in his mouth. But Aziraphale was looking at him with those eyes. He didn't know how describe them, and he didn't want to analyze how they made his heart hurt inside his vessel's chest. So he closed his eyes and ate the damned thing.

He put a hand over his mouth to stop the gagging. This Angel's taste was not quite normal if this is what he considered fine dining. He tried to smile politely, to not let him know that it was utter horseshit.

"You don't like it," Aziraphale said with a rather disappointed voice.

"N-No, I don't," Crowley said, and he didn't know why but he was sad to disappoint the angel. He was just trying to be kind after all, it wasn't as though he had properly sinned. But why would a demon feel bad for an angel? That went against his lot's whole thing.

However, Crowley found a wicked part of him that liked pissing off his lot. He'd never put it in as many words however.

"Pity, they are quite delectable."

"Sure, angel," Crowley said, sipping a large mouthful of wine. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, eating and drinking as they'd like. Then Crowley looked up to Aziraphale's soft "ahem." He was pointing behind Crowley, and when he turned he saw what caused it.

A young woman was sat in the corner, a large glass of wine in her hands, and she was weeping to herself. It wasn't loud or particularly noticeable, if it wasn't for the tear tracks down her cheeks, glittering as they caught the light. She was looking at her lap and sipping the wine, balking at the taste yet coming back for more.

"She looks happy," Crowley said.

"She looks sad! You demons need to learn the proper emotions."

Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, wondering if he was joking. Upon realizing that Aziraphale was, in fact, not joking Crowley said, "that was sarcasm, Angel."

"What was sarcasm?"

"My comment, 'she looks happy.' Of course she doesn't look happy that's why I said it."

Aziraphale furrowed his brows, "but your words meant the opposite of what you said."

"Exactly," Crowley said. And with a flourish he added, "it's called sarcasm."

"But why say something you don't mean? Isn't that lying?" Aziraphale asked, in all sincerity.

Crowley thought it over, "s'pose it could be seen that way. Most people view it as ironic."

"Oh, yes, of course." Aziraphale took an anxious sip of wine, looking back towards the girl.

"Angel..."

"Yes?" He was avoiding eye contact

"You don't know what ironic means, do you?"

Aziraphale pouted, "no I don't and I quite detest that you do."

"Ironic literally means saying the opposite of what you mean for some sort of point. Mine being that she looks downright miserable."

"Even though you said she looks happy." Aziraphale said slowly as he tracked that line of logic through his head.

"Right, even though I said she looks happy."

"And that's ironic?"

"Don't ya think?" Crowley said with a wide smile, his teeth appearing almost like he had pointed fangs.

"Why yes I do think-"

"Angel, that was irony."

"Oh." Aziraphale blinked rapidly a few times then sipped his wine, embarrassed he didn't know something that Crowley did know. He thought he was the knowledgeable of the two. "Well, sarcasm or not, we should help her."

"We?"

"Why - yes, we're both here and we see -"

"I don't help people," Crowley said quickly, his voice deep and harsh. "I'm a demon, I do the opposite of help."

"Well, yes but-"

"There are no buts with this. My lot were created to ruin your lots pickings. I pillage and plunder, that's my job." Crowley said this firmly as though it would make his point clearer. The more intense he was, the more his words seemed to slur together a bit.

Aziraphale paused for a moment, and Crowley wondered if he was about argue his point once more. "Isn't the phrase rape, pillage and plunder?"

"I don't do that. I'm not a monster," Crowley balked. He finished his wine and set the glass down. Throwing some money on the table he said, "sorry Angel. Got a priest to tempt. Catch you later."

"Oh, goodbye." Aziraphale said as Crowley ambled off through the restaurants doors. But despite himself, Aziraphale found himself smiling. Crowley wasn't truly all bad, even if he thought himself it. His gaze at the doors quickly moved over to the pretty girl weeping. She was still crying and her glass was a lot emptied.

Aziraphale got up, straightened his toga, and walked over to the girl. "Oh, um, hello. I'm -" oh shoot, he hadn't thought of this part yet. He had to quickly think of a name. Instantly his eyes shot up to the art above her, a fleece. Aha! "Jason. My name is Jason. Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're upset."

She sniffled, setting the glass down on the table. Aziraphale was struck by her face, now that he could see it not turned down and hidden. She was pretty. She eyed him warily, "Yeah, what's it to you?"

Aziraphale sat down on the chair opposite her, "I wondered if I might be able to help."

She laughed bitterly, "only if you can stop the Emperor." Aziraphale's eyebrows raised at that and she rushed to cover for herself, "oh no, I didn't mean that. All Hail the Caesar and what not. He's doing a mighty fine job."

"It's certainly not a 'mighty fine job' if he's got you crying as such."

"No, I s'pose not."

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," she said honestly, wiping the tears away quickly. "Honestly, Jason, I appreciate the thought but what's done is done. You can't change the past."

Aziraphale made a face in slight disagreement, though he knew he couldn't explain that to a human female. "Then perhaps telling someone will make you feel better. I harbor no connection with the Emperor, your opinions are quite safe with me."

She stared up at him after he said this, looking him truly in the eyes as though they told her all she needed to know. Then she did speak. "It's this invasion on Britain. My father and brother were both sent off and I worry. I've heard horrible things about the natives, truly barbaric things like removing of one's head. I don't want them to be hurt. Especially my brother, he's so sweet. He could get hurt by the army rather the natives."

"Hurt by his own army?"

"He doesn't stand up for himself. And that lot can be harsh. I s'pose I shouldn't blame them, I'd be harsh too if I had to kill people in battle. But I worry they will pick on him, push him 'round to try and get him to fight, and he won't."

"Ah, I see," Aziraphale said, rolling his tongue in his mouth as he thought it over. "Well, I can assure you one thing. The natives are not unnecessarily cruel. They do fight, but only when they need to. You couldn't expect anything less, dear."

She nodded, biting her lip. "No, you're correct. I'd defend my country against invaders as well."

"But they won't torture. Your brother will be quite alright, I'm sure of it."

After a minute of silence she looked up again at Aziraphale, "Thank you, Jason. Strangely enough, that makes me feel better. Knowing it wouldn't be torture."

"No, it wouldn't be."

"I really should be going, my daughter will be expecting me."

"Right, of course. Blessings on you, my dear." And though he'd already said the blessing, he felt compelled to say it again. To strengthen it for this poor soul. "Blessings on you forever."

Aziraphale helped her out of her seat. Just then, for an imperceivable second, Aziraphale thought he saw a golden shine cross her eyes. He didn't think much of it, figured it was the miracle. He'd never seen that happen, but he wasn't often looking in their eyes.

She took his hand, kissed the back of it, and thanked him again before walking out. Aziraphale smiled contentedly, though he felt a pull in his heart he hadn't felt before. Urging him to follow her, but he figured it was some sort of indigestion.

Crowley was sprawled on a bench not far from the restaurant, glancing up at a night time sky he couldn't see. He wanted to see it, but he gave up on that dream 2,000 years ago. The Fall took many things, and his eyesight was one of them. He could still see in general, he knew what people's faces looked like and where he was going. But specifics were lost on him, and the night looked like eternal darkness rather than the sparkling stars and planets he'd been told about.

"I helped create some of those," he mumbled to himself.

Then he closed his eyes, needing to not look at what he couldn't see. It still hurt, as though the wound wasn't thousands of years old. But it never properly healed in the first place.

He felt a weight against his foot and heard a thud within a matter of seconds, and he blinked in surprise. At his feet, a young woman was crumpled to the ground. His foot was sticking out in the pathway. Whoops.

He thought about rising to help her, then thought better of it. Beelzebub didn't need another reason to hate him. So he sat still and watched the woman get onto her hands and knees, glaring at him.

"Not going to help are you?"

"No, I think I'm keen to just watch," Crowley responded. She rolled her eyes, getting onto her feet and dusting off her toga. He examined her quickly, not knowing what to make of her. Then, she said something entirely unexpected.

"Keep your foot out of the way, asshole."

It wasn't a particularly inspired remark, nothing witty or threatening. But it was the fact that a random woman said that to him, a demon, without prompting. And with that remark, she walked away.

"Damnation on you eternally," Crowley murmured, waving his hand in a flourish towards the woman. He doesn't know why he said it, he's never really said it like that before and he certainly didn't why he even added the 'eternally' bit. But whatever the reason, he said it.

Though he knew she was too far away to hear him, she turned and looked back. And found a brief moment, maybe it was the trick of the light, he saw a golden shine pass over her eyes. She smirked shyly, then turned and walked away. And with each step, Crowley felt his heart pulse in a way he hadn't felt before.

1377—————

There was complete silence in the cathedral as a young boy, only aged 10 and dressed in trousers, walked through the crowd towards the priest. They seemed to hold their breaths as he lay on the floor before God, surrendering himself to Her mercy. Aziraphale watched the coronation. He had mixed feelings about the child, Richard. He wasn't a particular fan of the whole 'king' concept, but he thought the honoring to God bit was a nice touch. He wore simple enough clothes to note stand out, yet nice to enough to be recognized as a noble. His layers were in varying degrees of beige as he hid in the very middle of the crowd.

After the 10 minutes on the floor, Richard rose and made his way to the priest where he was being dressed in oil.

"Bit like a salad, eh?" A sultry, baritone voice said from beside Aziraphale, making him shudder. When he looked, it was Crowley. Dressed in similarly simple noble clothes, of course in tones of black and red, he watched the young king as different body parts were coated in oil for different purposes.

"Crowley? How did you get in here? It's a church?" Aziraphale said in a hushed whisper, earning glares from the people beside him. "Sorry Lord Wellington."

"Churches are built by humans."

"And what does that have to do with anything? You're still a demon in a place of worship for God," he said the word 'demon' especially softly for fear someone would turn in a panic at the word 'demon' being said in a cathedral.

"Yeah but it wasn't made by God. It was made for Her, by humans. Totally human structure."

"It is not."

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, "you got a better reason I can come and go in these?"

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I suppose not."

A loud smack echoed through the church and Crowley frowned, "you made me miss the slap, Angel."

"That is your concern?"

Crowley shook his head in frustration, "He's a bloody king now, last time he coulda gotten hit and it's by a priest. S'course I wanted to see it."

"He's a child."

"Not anymore. He's got too much to think about now to be a child."

"No," Aziraphale wondered. "I suppose he's not longer a child at all. You know, dearest, you really do have the grandest thoughts when you think about it."

"Shut up," Crowley replied, his cheeks turning rosy at the compliment.

Within seconds of him saying it, the priest placed the crown on top of boy's head and declared loudly, "Long Live King Richard II!"

The crowd burst into applause as the young king was carried through the cathedral. They whooped and hollered, crying "all hail" and "god save the king" as he passed them by. The boy looked cheerful, pink cheeks and bright curls waving underneath a crown that looked awful heavy for a boy his age. But no, Aziraphale thought, perhaps this was the end of his childhood after all.

"Are you attending the feast afterwards? I hear they will serve beef, and I haven't have beef in decades!"

"Ahh, well I don't know, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled, leaning in as though he was sharing a conspiratorial secret, "I hear there are miraculously two spots for a Lord Fell and Mr Fell, if you are so inclined."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up, eyes hidden beneath his favorite pair of sunglasses, "oh you devil!"

Aziraphale's smile dropped, "don't you say that."

There was a pause as Aziraphale processed the hurtful words, and Crowley processed that he actually cared to make it right to him. Then all at once, they both started speaking on the issue, words overlapping in a frightful mess.

Crowley sighed, "Right I'm sorry -"

"- that really hurts -"

"- I know, I know -"

"- I mean, I am most certainly not fallen -"

"-we had this conversation in 1066 -"

" - I did not appreciate that."

" -I know, Angel. I'm sorry."

After that final note, Aziraphale nodded. "Alright, well. Thank you."

They started to walk together towards the banquet hall not far from there, waiting to indulge in fine wines and beef. There was a large parade towards it, all the nobles and even those fortunate peasants engaged in laughing and singing. Jesters performed stupid dances in their funny hats, knights marched in perfect unison, and songs came pouring from every lute and voice in the area. It was a perfect celebration of a new king, all on their way to fall victim to gluttony, drunkenness, lust, greed and infinitely more temptations.

All things that should fill Crowley's heart with a miserable sort of glee. And yet... he felt off. Crowley couldn't explain the feeling in his chest, almost like a nagging telling him things weren't right. But all this temptation, he thought. This ought to be perfect! But it wasn't, and he had a feeling before he even glanced at his Angel that it was because of him.

Sure enough, he was right. Though Aziraphale hadn't said anything, being kind enough to accept Crowley's words at face value and dropping it, but Crowley knew him well enough to know something was wrong. He hadn't made it up to him.

"Angel, a word -" Crowley said, grabbing Aziraphale's elbow and leading him away from the crowd. As he did so, he missed the way Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, blue eyes fixated on the contact. They'd rarely touched before.

"Yes, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked politely but his tone was full of too much passive aggression to really be polite. He stood stock still, arms poised in front of him and looked expectedly at Crowley.

"I- I, I need to..." Satan this was hard. The words felt like glue in Crowley's mouth but he did his best to force them out. "I need to, to s'make it up to you."

"Pardon?"

Oh damn Aziraphale, making Crowley actually communicate. "What I said, I was wrong. You were right. It wasn't right of me and I need to make it because my apology isn't enough."

"I never said that."

"Ah, yeah, you never said it. But you's do this thing with your face when you's upset. And my words aren't getting there. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

They waited a moment, staring at one another. Suddenly, a large crash came from parade and the two looked over in surprise. The musicians were playing a long, one very eager man slamming the cymbals that caused such a loud sound. Behind them another jester bobbled along a delicate little dance, flourishing his arms on either side before turning and doing a bow.

Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyebrows raise, the corner of his cute little mouth twitch up and a finger pointed towards the little dance. He ran to stop it, saying, "no, no, no, I'm not doing that."

"Come now-"

"A dance? You want an 'I was wrong, You were right dance'? You can't be serious, Angel."

"I am serious, you wily serpent. Now do the little dance or I'll never forgive you," Aziraphale said in mock frustration, puffing out his chest.

Crowley saw before him a choice, between what his lot were bound to and Aziraphale. And without a second thought, he chose Aziraphale. He would choose Aziraphale every time, he just didn't know it yet. And so, despite all the humiliation he knew this would cause him if the bosses down under ever found out, Crowley did the little dance.

Aziraphale watched, eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn't thought Crowley would do it. Certainly not for him. But as Crowley bowed, enunciating his t's with a flourish, he couldn't help but smile.

"Very nice."

"Are we good, now?"

Aziraphale beamed, "quite right, dearest. We are quite right."

Crowley let out a breath, adjusting his glasses as though they would hide that dance from history's books. "Well then, let's get a move on."

The pair followed the parade into the banquet hall, and continued with the affair. Aziraphale literally wiggled in his seat when the food was placed before him, so excited he couldn't sit still. Crowley drank the wine, actually quite good for English wine.

Then the dancing started. King Richard - now Richard II - climbed on top of the table and proclaimed everyone to dance. And so, the nobles in their fancy gowns, drunk and laughing to no end, jumped from their seats to join in the dance. Aziraphale sat still for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Angels don't dance, not really. But this Angel longed to dance.

Crowley saw the way his fingers tapped along the table to the beat. He groaned, getting up from his seat.

"S'alright Angel, up up."

"Pardon -"

"You heard what I said. Come on Angel, let's dance."

Aziraphale giggled and got up, following Crowley into the chaos of swirling dresses and flirtatious looks between anyone and everyone. Almost immediately they were separated, swung by different partners.

Crowley danced with an older woman who squeezed his buttocks when she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn't fond of dancing, not the way Aziraphale was, but he enjoyed the freedom of it all. There were no rules, not really. Yes some people liked the structured ones where you pose and turn on every 3rd beat or what not. But in dancing there was an air of just living - being truly alive. That's what it was all about, it's all anyone yearned to feel.

In the next turn to switch partners, time seemed to slow for Crowley. He saw her, flitting between the people to slide her arm into Crowley's and continue the dance. She was pretty in an unconventional way. A way society might not call beautiful, but made Crowley stop and stare. He was pulled towards her, as though he couldn't control it. She was the center of his focus and he wanted nothing more than to meet her. Then, she turned that pretty gaze on him. Her lips quirked into a smile, hands warm and soft as they held his tightly. Her skin was flushed from the dance, and her dress swung around her in bright, dashing colors. The last dance had ended and all the people were gasping for air yet still ready to dive into the next.

"Hello," she said softly, though somehow he heard her voice over the crowd.

"Hello," Crowley answered back, not sure what to do. He'd never been in this position before.

"A dance?" She asked, taking a deep bow before holding her hand out. Palm up. She wore one, golden signet ring.

"I'd love to," Crowley answered honestly, taking her hand and pulling her into him.

She giggled happily, throwing an arm around his neck as he led the pair towards the center of the dance floor. He started to laugh along with her. Their dancing wasn't particularly good, both of them knew that, but they were having fun. She would twirl away only to twirl back into him awkwardly, laughing so hard she snorted which only caused a barking laughter from Crowley. They continued forward, holding each other close until the final pull drew them chest to chest. She was shorter than he, and she glanced up through dark lashes.

"Hi," she murmured, her breath hitting Crowley's face. She smelled of wine and temptation. He looked into her eyes and there it was - that one moment in history he thought was a fluke.

It had been 1,432 years, not like he was counting, but he didn't forget the way the golden band seemed to fleet over her eyes back in 55BC. And now, he saw that same golden shine slide over the same pair of eyes. It was just a second and yet it made Crowley's mouth drop. She saw it too, but for different reasons. He watched as she looked at his lips, he could tell what she was thinking.

She went to lean in, breasts pressed against his chest and breath hot, but was ripped away by the next dance. She giggled wildly as she was pulled into a circle, but found herself glancing over her shoulder to stare at the handsome stranger she almost kissed.

As Crowley stood in the middle of the floor, mystified, Aziraphale went over to his table to get a drink. All this dancing was positively amazing, but it certainly drained one of their energy.

As he brought the cup to his lips, a body crashed into his, sending the crimson liquid all over his clothes.

"Oh, bugger," he said, setting the cup down to assess the damage.

"I am so sorry, sir!" A girl said, breathless as she ran over. "That was entirely my fault. Please, let me help you clean it. I'm sure there's a tub not far."

Aziraphale smiled politely and went to decline the kind offer, but when he looked into her eyes he found himself agreeing to go with her. She lit up with excitement, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. There was something about her, something he couldn't explain. But he was in awe of her movements and eager to learn more about her.

She turned into an empty hall near a bathroom. She had him wait here while she collected a basin of water and grease.

"I can't promise it will fully work," she said as she set it down, "but I'll do my best. I really am so sorry, sir. I would have never ruined your clothes intentionally."

"It's quite alright. They weren't my favorite anyway," he said as he removed the outer layer. His multiple layers undergarments were fine, and could suffer slight staining. It was the outer garment that changed the most.

She shook her head as she dunked it in the basin, "you can't mean that, sir."

"I find that I quite do," he said, watching her with a quite awe.

"What's your name, sir? I feel I've seen you before," she said, suddenly watching him with the same astute attention. She kept narrowing her eyes as though she'd remember.

Maybe it was the stain, the wine, the party, the demon nearby, or maybe it was just this woman that did it to him but without realizing, he answered honestly, "Aziraphale."

Her eyes lit up, "like the Angel?"

"Precisely, my dear."

"That's a beautiful name. Aziraphale, Aziraphale... can you believe it?" She mumbled the last bit to herself, rubbing liberal amounts of grease into the fabric.

"Do you have a connection to the name? Or the Angel, perhaps?" Aziraphale asked curiously, wanting to hear more about her.

"I do, strangely enough. It's a silly connection..." she said, absentmindedly turning the signet ring over and over on her hand.

"I rather find that when it comes to angels and demons, nothing is silly." Aziraphale chose to neglect some of the more strange decisions the staff had made.

"I, well, oh goodness it sounds all made up. Well, I was in the shops the other day. My friend makes jewelry and he's very good. I came by and he said a man dropped off this gold signet ring with the name Aziraphale burned into it. Said he didn't know what to do with it, not many people knows the Angel, and he gave it to me." She took the ring off her finger, staring at it with an admiration before holding it out to him. "It's your name. You should have it."

"Oh I couldn't possibly take from you, dear."

She shook her head, "no it's not taking. It's a gift. It's fate, that I should have a ring for an Aziraphale just before meeting one of my very own."

"Oh dear, I couldn't -"

She interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to the ring, taking his hand and sliding it onto his pinky finger. When she looked up, still holding his hand, Aziraphale's jaw dropped. That golden shine. Where had he seen that before? It was brief, flashing over a pair of kind eyes, but it was there all the same.

"Please accept this, Aziraphale."

"I - I will. Thank you, my dear."

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale saw her after that night. They didn't know her name, her status, or even really remember her outfit. If Cinderella was around, she would have been the prime candidate for it. Neither told each other about their experience with a strange woman until 150 years later as they talked about Henry VIII's decision to have Anne Boleyn beheaded. Nasty business that was.

1601—————

"He's really quite good," Aziraphale said, watching fondly as the actor of Hamlet lamented about life and death. It really was moving the way he toyed between truly living a life, or if death was not truly what life was about.

Aziraphale found himself doing that 'excited sigh' that Crowley described. He found it an odd way of saying his behaviors, but Crowley insisted that when Aziraphale was excited it wasn't a 'satisfied sigh' but an 'excited sigh.' To be fair, he'd said this after 2 whole bottles of wine and a shot of pure vodka, so Aziraphale couldn't grant its true authenticity. A drunk demon would truly say anything just to illicit a reaction.

The speech made him wonder what it was like to be a human, with no certainty about what happens with their souls. They don't have a guarantee about life, or death, and yet are expected to do as they are told with no questions. Crowley knew what it was like to ask questions, and it lead to scars even Aziraphale didn't know about.

"Ngk, s'pose so." Crowley grumbled, watching as the man stamped his foot on the stage. "Bit dramatic, no?"

"It'd a tragedy!" Aziraphale countered, furrowing his brows in surprise.

"Eh, I still prefer the funny ones."

Aziraphale shook his head, turning to watch the man on the stage. A flash of purple fabric caught his eye, and his gaze traveled to see a young woman peaking out from behind the railing. She was trying to stay hidden, but Aziraphale could see that she just couldn't resist the temptation to watch the rehearsal. Her eyes were bright and wide, soaking in the sight. Her clothes were dirty and well worn, a few sizes too big and the hem covered in a layer of mud. But despite it all, she looked entirely unique.

She was pretty, and Aziraphale didn't often feel as though many humans were pretty. He appreciated the art of humanity, and believed each human was their own work of art. But he didn't feel a pull to any of them, but her... she had an attraction to her. He could see her lean too far over the edge, as though the stage were dragging her in. It wasn't just a love and an admiration, it was an addiction. Aziraphale could see what was going to happen moments before it did, but it was too late. The girl tumbled over the edge and fell onto the floor of the Globe, catching the attention of everybody in the rehearsal space.

Her cheeks immediately blotted pink, covering her face in a rosy hue as the stage manager came to her with a snarl, "oi, who're you?"

"I-I-"

"You's not supposed to be 'ere," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She stumbled along as he pulled her to the entrance. "Out with you."

"Mary? Whatcha doin here?" Crowley called out, sauntering over to the man and the girl. The man stopped, looking at Crowley with a skeptical gaze. The girl's eyes widened, bright and eager, as she realized what Crowley was doing and she nodded vigorously.

"Yes, sir, I came to fetch you! Mistress Paulson requested you." She said quickly, trying to stand on her own despite the stage manager's tight grasp.

The man cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? You know's him?"

"Know me? Know me?" Crowley sauntered over with a cackle, "me's and Mary goes way back."

She nodded, ripping her arm from the man's grasp then standing politely. "Oh yes, Mr..."

"Oh don't bother with all the Mr Crowley Miss whatever business, just call me Anthony like any other bloke."

"Anthony has helped my sister much. He's an excellent doctor," she said, standing firm. Aziraphale watched her in awe, he was impressed. She picked up that Crowley was saving her quickly, easing into the lie with an expert comfort. She seemed familiar, as though they'd met her before. And most importantly, she was intelligent.

"Doctor? You didn't mention that about your friend," the man said to Aziraphale, his enunciation so poor he practically spat the words at Aziraphale's feet.

Aziraphale flashed a charming smile, "I hadn't realized that those particular skills would, uh, come up in a theatre of this, err,... caliber."

"I haven't the pleasure of meeting you, sir." The girl piped up, her smile was warm and gentle. But he could see in her eyes a tension, wanting to convince this man to not throw her out or worse - press charges. "My's names Mary Edwins. Friend of Mr Crowley."

Mary Edwins, clearly a fake name. Just basic enough to be believable, but enough slight hesitation that Aziraphale knew she was lying. She gave a little curtesy, spreading the oversized purple skirt over the floor. It really was too large, but she still looked charming. Aziraphale felt as though he'd seen that curtesy before. There it was, fast you could have blamed the lighting, Aziraphale knew better. There that same golden shine came over her eyes, if just for a moment. His mouth fell open in a little 'o,' unable to speak for a while 10 seconds before stuttering out, "oh, h-hello Miss Edwins, I'm Mr Fell."

The stage manager thought on it for a moment, before deciding that he wasn't paid enough to care. It was hours away from opening night, after all, and the little boy playing Ophelia needed alterations in his costume.

"Alright then," he said, walking back towards the director, a Mr William Shakespeare.

The girl was still a few feet away as Crowley walked dramatically back towards Aziraphale. The Angel tried to ignore it. He hadn't mentioned that part of it with Crowley, and he didn't know how to continue. Crowley mistook Aziraphale's expression as one of angelic smugness and rose a finger, "shut it, Angel."

"That was a good thing you did," he said with a little smile. He pushed it to the back of his mind, something to worry about when it was late and the city was asleep.

"Twasn't good, no. I was, real, I - I - I was bad. I let a criminal get away."

Aziraphale patted Crowley's shoulder, "no, dearest. You let a woman enjoy her passion. Look at her, you've saved her."

The pair glanced over at her as she tried, and failed, to subtly watch the actors get ready for their next scene. Her hand was on her heart, as though if she didn't put it there her heart would pop right out.

"Ehhh, that's not saving. Not really."

"Oh, it's not? Then what would you say is a human's purpose?" Aziraphale asked with a soft voice.

"I thought that's your job, Angel. Praising God and what not."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking away from Crowley. "You know as well as I that love of God is not all humans were made for. I am of the firm opinion they are here for their passions. They survive by it. They might be able to live with food and water alone, but no soul could truly exist without their drive. And this woman, her passion is theatre."

"Rather blasphemous words from an Angel."

"Rather kind actions from a demon."

Aziraphale smiled, looking towards the stage. Crowley tried to hide the blush on his ears and cheeks. It was always his ears that turned bright red from, from, well he didn't quite know from what. But he felt the heat and looked away. He looked at the girl, who perked your once she realized he saw her. She went over shyly.

Despite her apprehension, she raised her voice enough to say, "thank you for your help, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

"Mmm," was Crowley reply, gazing around the globe with a distinguished air about him. As if he was the most important person in the room. He tried to ignore her presence. She had a pull to her and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to address it. He already had the issue of a certain Angel who wouldn't leave his mind.

"Who are we to stop the love of the arts?" Aziraphale said, rather eccentrically. "Though you could have waited a few hours to see the whole show."

"I can't afford it," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Aziraphale noted her sweet little boots, their pointed ends digging into the dirt out of anxiety. "My mistress only gave me the morning. I need to be back in an hour."

Crowley and Aziraphale shot a glance with one another, not quite knowing how to respond. They stood in silence, the girl's eyes wide as she drank in Ophelia's mad lullabies.

"What's your name?"

"Mary Edwins."

Crowley smiled, "nice try, love. Your real name."

She cocked an eyebrow, glancing up at first at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, before looking back at her reflection in his sunglasses. "Why do you want to know?"

"We did help you, dear. We'd just love to know you, but if you cannot tell us, we won't rush you."

"Are you two a couple?" She asked quickly, pointing at the two and waving her hands in some strange, gesture of coupling. Her choice of question was so drastic, they didn't bother to notice the intentional diversion in topics.

Aziraphale looked up, mouth dropping in a little 'o' and he looked at Crowley. Crowley lifted a brow. Aziraphale answered, "We've known each other for a long time."

"That doesn't answer my question, Mr Fell."

"Aren't you a sly one, Miss Edwins." Crowley sneered, his top lip recoiling.

She just smiled, shrugging her shoulders with a little giggle. "Suppose so, Mr Crowley."

The golden shine. Crowley sucked in a harsh breath as she turned to look back at the stage. He could practically hear all his thoughts as they raced through his head, and he was unable to settle on just one. Those eyes. He hadn't seen them in years and yet this was the third woman who just happened to flirt with him, and had a gold shine go across her eyes. He reckoned she didn't know it happened, she probably didn't know what those little eyes could do to an immortal creature. Crowley swallowed, praying she never had to.

Then, the show continued and 'Mary's' eyes seemed transfixed. Aziraphale loved the theatre, Crowley enjoyed it, but 'Mary' adored it.

Crowley watched her eagerly, partly out of curiosity and partly because he liked feeling her passion in his soul as though it was her own. He found himself attracted to it, a drag of one's purpose. The passion filled her up, and she seemed to want to lean into it. She gasped as Hamlet killed his mother, she listened with eager ears as he instructed the actors on how they were to act, she cried as it seemed that everyone fell to the floor in a miserable death. Then, it was over. Actors stumbled to their feet, laughing as though they weren't stabbed with poisoned rapiers. The story was over, but 'Mary' seemed to be in a daze. Crowley watched with shrewd, yet eager eyes as she came out of it.

Then she straightened her back, smiling tightly to both of them. "Mr Fell, Mr Crowley, thank you for letting me stay. It has been such a gift. I'm afraid I must go."

"Let us escort you home," Aziraphale said, without realizing what he was offering.

She blinked wide eyes, "there's no need, sir. It's two blocks away."

Crowley lifted his chin, "love, we'd like to see you off safe."

"If you insist. Though I must tell you it's entirely through the city. Eyes will be on you at all times," she said it as a threat, a reminder to not do anything unsavory. Crowley almost frowned at that little bit of false hope. If they actually had bad intentions, a crowd wouldn't stop anything. She wasn't truly safe. But both Crowley and Aziraphale nodded, as though they truly headed her warning.

"Was that your first Shakespeare production?" Aziraphale asked, making polite conversation as he walked on one side of her, Crowley on the other.

"Oh, no. I do my best to attend all of them. I tend to prefer the funny ones, but the crowds can be a bit much for me."

"Eh? What'd you mean by that?" Crowley asked.

She blushed, "I don't like when crowds get very loud. They tend to jeer and toss things at the actors. It doesn't feel safe for anyone. I do enjoy his dramas though."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before she asked the next question, "what do you two do? If I may, you're dressed rather odd."

"Odd?" Crowley asked with a frown, gazing down at his outfit. He was quite proud of this outfit. The ruff was amazing, really helped one feel confident.

'Mary' giggled. "I don't dislike your outfits, you just don't see these colors often."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance, shifting in their outfits. Perhaps they do cling to their colors a bit much. But Aziraphale never felt it was a problem, he was proud of his wardrobe.

"I make my own clothes," Aziraphale said with a smile.

'Mary' lightened up, her eyes taking on a bright, sparkling quality before she actually smiled, a little tell that Aziraphale noticed. He'd seen that before, but couldn't place it. "That is quite wonderful, Mr Fell. I'd love to make my own, however I mostly sew for my mistress."

"You make her clothes?"

"Oh no, I tend to mend them."

The conversation lulled again, and Crowley bit his lip as he thought before asking the question that has been on his tongue since the play ended, "why do you love theatre so much?"

Her chest flared, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she could barely contain the words before they poured from her in excited spurts, "what's not to love? It's stories about being human wrapped up in fancy costumes and dramatic voices. It's full of stories that seem so outrageous yet we still find our way to connect. Isn't it just fascinating that you could watch a show about a man, driven mad by jealousy caused by a deceiving friend, murdering his wife and leave full of emotions? You'd think you'd be mad at the murderer, condemning him for killing his love. And yet, there's more to it than that. You can't quite hate Othello, but you can't love him either. It's so hard to explain what it is to be human, there's no word or sentence to explain it. It can be so isolating. But these stories can give us insight. I, sorry, I'm rambling," she said, taking a wistful sigh.

"Stories can be found anywhere, dear. Books, especially," Aziraphale noted. He enjoyed hearing her speak with such fire. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he could recall someone else talking about their love of stories, but he couldn't place it.

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, of course. And I adore books too. It's just... theatre is such a temporary art. Those moments on stage, or watching, could never be recreated, it could never be exactly as it was. And that's what made it so beautifully tragic. You are stuck with a slightly different story each night, with different takeaways."

"What a beautiful takeaway," Aziraphale said, watching her with a slight sort of awe.

She blushed, "I'm hardly unique in that way."

"Ngk," Crowley mumbled in disagreement, though he didn't actually say a word. Yet, she seemed to still understand what he was trying to say and blushed all the same.

As they walked, Crowley took off his sunglasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. He seemed to forget that his were unusual, yellow and with a snake like slit as a pupil.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"M'yeah," Crowley answered, opening his eyes to look at her. After the initial realization he was seeing her without glasses, thus revealing the snake like eyes, he went to shove the sunglasses back on. But she wasn't looking unkindly at him.

Instead, she smiled widely, "they're beautiful."

"Wot?" He said in shock.

"Your eyes are beautiful, Mr Crowley." Then, as Crowley sputtered in surprise, she stopped in front of an expensive flat. "This is me mistress's. Thank you, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

She looked both of them in the eyes as she said their names, and with equal kindness and appreciation. Then, she turned away and scampered around towards the servants entrance. Aziraphale waited until she was inside to blow out a breath.

"She was something," Crowley said.

"Yes, she was."

"I- angel, I could be wrong on this but didn't she feel-"

"Familiar?" Aziraphale finished for Crowley, looking down the alley as though she would magically reappear.

"Yes! It's so bloody weird," Crowley said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"Yes, weird," Aziraphale said, enunciating weird in an odd way that made Crowley furrow his brows. The two beings tried to shrug off this encounter, heading their separate ways for the time being.

1865—————

Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he'd never seen him before, utterly gobsmacked. "I will not provide you that, that thing! It's suicide."

"Aw not for that Angel," Crowley groaned, waving his hand nonchalantly as though he hadn't asked for the one thing that would completely kill him. "Just for, err you know, protection."

"You are a demon, Crowley. The world would need protection from you."

Crowley tried to not let that sting. He'd never said as much to Aziraphale, but these last 200 years have really brought some perspective over what it is to be a demon. He found a weird sense of discomfort over the word demon. As though he were entirely bad because of what he was, and not what he does. But he'd never say it, or tell Aziraphale he accidentally rhymed.

"It's not like that, I just want to secure myself. That's all."

Aziraphale pursed his lips and looked away, not bearing the thought that his closest acquaintance would dare to think of something like that. It was simply not going to happen, Aziraphale refused to let that happen. Crowley was going to live forever, with Aziraphale, and he was going to do so happily. He'd never tell Crowley, of course, but Aziraphale didn't know if he could manage eternity without him.

"Oi! That can't have that!" Crowley said quickly, throwing himself off the bench and facing towards a woman standing by the river.

She turned to look at the, in her view, random man dressed in mourning garb barreling towards her and shouting in a thick accent. She clutched the loaf of bread close to her chest, eyeing him warily as he continued rambling.

"Bread's not good for 'em, it can - can - can cause diseases," he said once he got close to her.

She sucked in a breath. He was taller than he'd looked from afar, and she found herself staring at him. He was also quite handsome, with tanned skin and shocking bright red hair, curled away from his face. She noticed a pair of odd looking spectacles hiding his eyes, and a tattoo peaking out beneath his sideburns.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said breathlessly. She felt kind of stupid now, holding a loaf of bread as he stared at her with a passion for the ducks. A man dressed in all beige apparel came by quickly, standing by the other man's side. He looked kind, with bright blue eyes and plush pink lips she didn't even realize she'd taken note of.

"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's outburst," Aziraphale said to the woman, still looking shellshocked. "Though I'm afraid he is right, bread is not the best for them."

She looked down and stared at it. "Right, well I apologize. I hadn't been doing it long, if it's of any comfort."

Crowley grumbled but didn't say anything else, eyeing her with skepticism. After a pause where the three stood in silence, the woman tore the loaf into three sections. She then offered up a piece to each of the men, "better we eat it than them?"

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance, they hadn't expected this. Maybe it was the mood of St James's Park or the pull of this young girl, but they reached out to accept their proffered piece.

Just then a golden shine passed over her eyes. Both men's jaws dropped as they'd never shared of this particular detail of their stories, and had never experienced it together. And, for the first time, she seemed conscious of it too.

A hand went up to her cheeks just below her eyes, which had grown wide in surprise. "What was that?"

"Pardon?" Aziraphale asked in that slightly tense voice he had when he was covering up for something.

"The, my, my eyes. I was looking and then it went all - gold like."

"Oh I don't know about that," Aziraphale said.

She shook her head vehemently, pointing at the both of them. "Yours did too, and yours!"

"You saw our eyes shine gold?" Crowley asked shyly.

"Y-yes. I saw through your spectacles. The whole eye, it went gold -"

"It must have been a trick of the light, dearest. Eyes don't 'go gold.'"

She shook her head again, "no. I know what I saw. I, I think I'd better go. Thank you for the, the, the ducks."

"Wait-" "Don't go-" Aziraphale and Crowley started at the same time, but she'd already lifted her skirts so she could walk away as quickly as possible.

"She saw it this time," Crowley said, mouth open in surprise.

"This time? This time? You've had a girls eyes shine gold before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to ignore the way his heart ramped up at the news. Crowley felt it too, it wasn't all him.

"And by the sound of it, you have too."

"Yes, I have. But only thrice before, 55BC, 13-"

"-77 and 1601."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened and he stared at Crowley in shock, "I- I, how did you know?"

"Same for me, Angel. Same for me."

"So she's connected then, to the both of us." Aziraphale said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. Crowley nodded, pursing his lips and making a 'tsk' noise under his breath.

"She's looked different each time. I don't think she's an Angel or a demon," Crowley said, ripping off a small piece of the bread she gave him and tossing it into the water. No, it wasn't good for them but who cares at this point. They were eternally connected to something.

"No, I think you're quite right. She's something else entirely. I'll have to do some research, I'll let you know if I have anything of note."

Crowley swallows, "same 'ere."

"Okay. Well then, good afternoon to you," Aziraphale tipped his hat and wandered off back to his book shop, his head completely filled with ideas of shapeshifters and witches, all sorts of creatures.

Current Day—————

Crowley parked the Bentley outside Aziraphale's shop, the wheel a slight tap before getting out. It was cold today, and he saw dozens of people shuffling into Nina's shop for some warmth. He himself was freezing but he knew even slightly suggesting to Aziraphale would earn him some pampering, blanket tucked in, hot chocolate, and near undivided angelic attention. Normally he didn't like asking for it, but it's been a weird few years with the Armageddon't, and he could use some pampering.

He felt a pang in his chest, a strange sort of pull he didn't know what to do with. What did humans do when their hearts hurt? Then it struck him - he wasn't human. Why would his heart be hurting?

"Oi, you doing okay?" A voice said from the pavement outside Aziraphale's shop. Crowley looked up, surprised to see Nina with a bag full of ingredients.

"What're you doing out

She held up the bag with a raised brow, as though he was stupid to just suggest it, "you're alright then?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you haven't got other staff and the place's full."

"Oh, yeah, forgot you didn't know about that." Nina said dryly. "I hired a new barista. Name's Y/N. New to town."

There it was, that pull dragging him towards her shop. He couldn't explain, tried to rack his brain as to what would want him in there. He glanced back through the windows, trying to see if anything was amiss.

Each instance with her seemed to last for a second, barely enough to know if it was the truth or a trick of the light. But Crowley had lived long enough on enough stupid planets to know that when he saw something that wasn't typically there, it wasn't a figment of his imagination. He swallowed, trying to betray anything to Nina.

"Right. Well then, better get back to it," he said, moving past her shoving his way into Aziraphale's bookshop.

"Oh Crowley, wonderful you're here-"

"Yes, yes, I'm wonderful, you're wonderful, the world's bloody wonderful. Angel, do you remember in 1865 when we saw her in St James's Park?"

There wasn't a need to clarify who the 'her' was. Aziraphale straightened, removing his spectacles from his nose. "Yes, I do."

"And you remember when you said you'd research it and report back, but never did?"

"Yes, I do. Crowley-"

"I need that research now, Angel." Crowley said quickly, not letting Aziraphale ask more pointless questions.

"Nothing came of it, dear, that's why I'd never told you. We would have sensed if she was a witch, angel, demon, or anything other supernatural. We have those senses."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Crowley, what happened? What did you see?"

"She's here."

Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and he placed a surprise hand on his chest, not quite knowing what to do with that information. "Here?!"

"In London. In the coffee shop, in Nina's coffee shop. I - I saw her. There was a golden thread between us. I know it's her, Angel. She looks different but she has every time. It's her."

"You saw a golden thread?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale put his spectacles back on, heading for one of his bookshelves towards the back of the shop, "are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Angel, I'm bloody positive."

"A Golden thread has never shown up before. The previous times were all the, err, the eyes. This means something." Aziraphale said, gathering the dusty book from his shelf and depositing it on his desk with a thud. "In Greek mythology the golden thread was your life line. Your life thread so to speak. Fate, destiny, the whole nine yards."

"Yes, Angel, but the Greeks were wrong and that's how we exist so what does it mean for us?" Crowley grabbed a chair and fell into it, placing a frustrated hand on his temple.

Aziraphale thumbed through pages until he found what he was looking for. He read the words, but it only helped to scrunch his brow. "This doesn't make any sense. The threads only have two colors, two avenues."

"What do the threads mean, Angel?" His tone pained in frustration. This girl was scaring him, and he couldn't explain why. As far as he knew she presented no threat to him. And yet all the same, he feared her. He wasn't a fan of the unknown. Everything had been so planned out for so long, even though he didn't like the idea of the world ending it was a plan nonetheless.

"It says here that white thread is for eternal blessings. Saints and what not. Black thread for eternal damnation. But it only exists on a human while they are alive."

"Wot? I don't see black threads on people, d'you see white threads?"

Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles, "it says here they only appear if an Angel, or in your case, dearest, a demon, specifically bless them. Or, err, curse them."

"Still, you'd think 6,000 years and I woulda seen something."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement, "I've not seen any either."

"Wait, how'd you know about all this then?" Crowley waved a hand vaguely in between Aziraphale and the book.

Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, "all this? Oh, ah, you mean how I've come to know about the threads? Well it is to my understanding that this was brought up by Michael -"

"Head honcho Michael?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, though I wouldn't use such human terms myself. Michael had thought it up around 100BC. Thought it would be a fun way of identifying humans. But the upstairs didn't fancy the idea, She dispelled it not too long after."

"Hmm... never woulda pictured that out of Michael."

"Well, they say you never really know someone." Aziraphale replied, looking back over the pages as Crowley began to ramble.

"Always thought that applied to killers. No one ever says that 'bout the good deeds, they only say it after you've hurt someone. If someone's killed a kid, everyone's all up in arms like 'you never really knew 'em.' But if someone's a paramedic no one's like 'you never really know-'"

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as the words at the bottom of the page finally clicked. Part of the reason Michael's plan never worked, at least according to Gabriel, was that the wording was too specific. "No one uses 'eternally' in their everyday vocabulary," he had argued. Back then Aziraphale had quite agreed with Gabriel, but everyone agreed with Gabriel if it meant shutting Michael up. But he remembered a time not long before the thread idea was vanished when he had used the word 'eternally' in conversation. He reread to be sure, then piped up over Crowley's random complaining, "C-Crowley... do you remember what you said to her in 55BC?"

Crowley's face scrunched as he tried to think all the way back. "I, uh, tripped her. On accident, then she called me an asshole and I-I damned her for eternity I think."

"Oh dear."

"What does this 'oh dear' me? Angel?" When Aziraphale didn't say anything Crowley got up, stalking over to him quickly. "What did you see?"

"I blessed her for eternity."

"So? What's that mean?"

"I-I think, and I could be very very wrong, however I think that means we've, err, we've trapped her soul in an endless strain between Heaven and Hell."

"No, no, no, no," Crowley started to say, unconsciously pacing as he tried to unravel it all in his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Her thread is gold, white and black don't make gold. It makes grey, she should be grey!"

"I think the color of her thread is far from our biggest issue, Crowley."

"So, so what? She's trapped to us?"

Aziraphale ran a hand down his face, trying to process. "I- she might be."

"But her body's changed each time. It's not the same woman."

"Ah, but her eyes. They've stayed the same. You know as well as I do they're the same."

Crowley stopped, knowing he didn't have grounds to argue. Aziraphale was right, after all. Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell-"

"Language," Aziraphale said with pursed lips.

"Wot? For the fucking or the hell part?" Crowley snapped, then upon seeing Aziraphale's dropped expression he immediately retracted. "I'm sorry. That was rude. You're not getting the stupid dance though. Angel, she's not immortal. Her soul is. She must just keep being, being reborn. But the soul from 55BC is still the same."

"That would make sense," Aziraphale said. "They do say the eyes are the window into the soul. Perhaps that explains why they remain while the rest of her can change."

"Yeah, yeah. It makes sense, don't it?"

"So we've accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth to live and die for eternity?"

"Yeah, yeah," Crowley sniffed. "Think we did, Angel."

There was a quiet pause as the two reflected on what they just realized. They, unwittingly, had created an immortal creature. She doesn't even know she's immortal, and by the past experience it sounds as if her mind is wiped with each death. But her soul lives on.

"Fuck," Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley looked up sharply, "wot'd you say?"

"I said fuck." He repeated, with more confidence this time around.

On any normal circumstance, Crowley would laugh and cherish the moment he saw Aziraphale curse - and with fuck of all of them - but he couldn't help but think Aziraphale was right. Fuck, indeed.

"What do we do?" Crowley asked.

"We have to tell her."

"We do? Why's that? What d'ya think we're gonna say? Hi random stranger I'm a demon he's an Angel and your soul is stuck, here have a cuppa."

"Well that would be straightforward -"

"Sarcasm, Angel. You've been here for thousands of years and you still don't process sarcasm."

Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, touching his shoulders so he'd look up to him. "I understand that this is difficult. This is, it's entirely unprecedented territory. But she deserves the truth." He leaned in, his voice but a whisper. "It does help that we both feel a pull to her. Once we see her, it hurts to no interact. Perhaps we can find a way to end this, to help her."

Crowley swallowed, looking away from Aziraphale's bright blue eyes. He smelled of vanilla and old books, a scent Crowley would bottle up and spray all over his stupid, cold flat if he could. Maybe this girl could help, maybe she was good. But they first needed to meet her.

"Alright. Fine. Let's go, now," Crowley said, sliding his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale nodded and retrieved his coat.

The pair walked out of the bookshop, locking up, and swiftly walked cross the street. They hesitated outside the door, neither knowing what to do. A flash of a blue apron in the window caught their attention, and then a golden thread, shining in the light, emerged and wrapped round the owners waist.

"You seeing that, Angel?"

"Y-yes, I am. It's not faded."

It didn't. It sparkled and swayed in the air, moving with the owners body as she walked around in the shop.

"On three," Aziraphale said. Crowley grumbled in agreement. "One, two ... three."

They opened the doors and were almost immediately greeted by a sweet smile and kind eyes. The same eyes they'd seen for hundreds of years. She smiled, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Hi guys, welcome in! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a moment."

"O-okay," Aziraphale said, his voice wispy in the confusion and whirlwind that was her. But she was entirely unaware, blissfully living in her own world that she didn't know was about to be ruined.

They sat in a far corner, away from any windows. Crowley sprawled in the seat, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat stiff as a bored, left leg bouncing so furiously the table itself started to shake.

"Right, what can I get you lads?" She seemed to appear out of nowhere, shining golden thread wrapped round her sweet waist right where the apron was tied.

Aziraphale spoke first, not looking her in the eye but instead staring out the window. An uncharacteristically rude action on his part. "Oh, um, just a latte please. With 3 shots of vanilla."

"Ooo, yum. And for you, the one with the glasses?" She asked, her voice light.

Crowley thought for a moment. Better bite the bullet, eh? He turned, took his sunglasses off, and looked her in the eyes. "Espresso, darling."

Her eyes had a golden flash and she seemed to jump, her pad falling to the table in her shock. She looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with wide eyes, hands going to her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Aziraphale. Your name is Aziraphale," she said to him. Eyes wide. She turned to the demon. "You're Crowley."

"Yes, dear, we are."

"Why do I know that?" Her voice was shaky and yet she stayed, not angry or scared that she knew unknowable information.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley sighed, flicking his hand. Time around them stopped. Customers held their mugs up in the air, Nina mid pouring a cup, and a man getting ready to ask for the most ridiculous drink he could think of. All were trapped in this moment except for her, Aziraphale and Crowley.

She jumped, looking around with wide eyes, "h-how'd you do that? Why did you do that?"

"Please, take a seat dear," Aziraphale said, snapping as a plush chair appeared behind her. She tripped into it, her body language stuff and frightened.

"This is all feeling like a very strange dream, and I don't like it," she said, taking deep breaths to try and clear her mind. "Did you just stop time and if so, how the hell did you? And you just miraculously created a chair? And why do I know who the hell you are?"

"Dearest, it's not a dream, I'm afraid. You have met us before. You've met us multiple times before," Aziraphale took a breath. "I-I'm afraid we have some complicated news."

"Tell me who the hell you are!" She was getting scared, her heart fighting against her rib cage. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run away, put her hands over her ears and scream 'la la la' over and over until they left her alone. But she didn't. It wasn't a physical thing, even though these familiar strangers had put her in a terrifying position she knew they'd let her go. It was her soul that kept her trapped. "Who are you? I need to know. Who are you really?"

Aziraphale placed a warm hand on her own. His was large, soft and yet strong. She liked the feeling of his hands as he held one of hers, looking into her eyes. "My name is Aziraphale. I am an Angel of God. I was the Guardian of the East Gate at the Garden of Eden, but now I am on Earth. I perform miracles and I run a bookshop, with my dearest friend."

His eyes glanced over to the other man. He was handsome, tanned skin with fiery red hair slicked up and back over his head. Aziraphale might have called him a friend, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was more than that, maybe they didn't know it but she definitely did.

Another hand grasped hers, this one lean and long. He grasped her hand with a soft intensity she didn't know possible. "My name's Crowley. I'm a demon, you'd know me cause I was a, uh, let's call me a reptile."

She blinked rapidly, "you were the snake that tempted Eve?"

"Wow, she's a quick one," Crowley smiled widely.

"Wasn't he cursed to only use his belly?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "it's complicated."

"You, both, are not human. You're an Angel and you're a demon. So Christianity is right."

"Yes, love. But God is actually a She, that bit got muddled," Aziraphale smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"That doesn't explain, why- why do I know you? I recognize both of you, but I don't know why. Then you made that comment about having met me multiple times, for years, what does that mean?" She was getting a little riled but she tried to stay calm. This wasn't going to make any more sense by screaming at a literal demon. And Angel, but the demon was more infuriating at the moment. He stared at her with a mix of awe and shock, and she didn't want to think about any of it.

Aziraphale sighed, "before the current era, you know Roman times and what not, the Archangel Michael played with the idea of threads. It was similar in concept to the Greek idea of fate -"

"You happened to be alive when this was a thing. It means when a demon curses you and says the word 'eternally' a black thread'll appear to let everyone know you're damned forever. White thread with angels."

"I'm damned forever? Wait, you said Roman times - I was alive during the ancient roman era?"

"Well, darling, he blessed you and I cursed you at the same day. Meaning your soul is trapped with both Heaven and Hell," Crowley said softly. "We think your soul has been reincarnated since about 55BC. And it's because of us. This Golden shit you see is our connection."

"But white and black make grey?"

Crowley clapped and said "aha! She gets it!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale said, though his eyes were light with amusement. "We can't explain the color of the thread. But we believe it means you're connected to us. Both of us, we get this pull to you when you're around. As though we have to see you."

There was a moment of silence as they let her collect her thoughts. Unconsciously, she'd curled up into a ball on the comfy chair Aziraphale had miracled. She thought and thought, rolling over the idea that she's trapped here on earth. An accidental immortal being tied to these two.

She glanced at Aziraphale. She knew him, she has known him. She bit her lip, wishing to understand everything as it was.

"M-May I?" She asked, tentatively lifting a hand near his face. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to try and remember.

The Angel nodded. He was soft, his hair light and white, in short curls on top of his head. She liked the curls, they looked rather fetching on him. Her fingertips brushed lightly down his face, feeling his kind face. She liked his lips, they were pink and couldn't fight a smile. Then she glanced down and saw his hand in his lap. Running an hand down his shoulder to his hand, she lifted it and eyed the golden ring.

"Aziraphale..." she murmured. It all started to fall into place. The dancing, the food, the wine. He'd looked so out of place in pale clothing, so obviously finer than anyone else's. He'd tried to blend in with an outdated style, to balance the richness, but she could spot him through the crowd with ease. His cheeks had gotten pink, and he'd gone for a drink. She hadn't meant to spill on him, she just wanted a chat. "I gave you this ring. You didn't want it at first, but I gave it to you. It says Aziraphale on it."

He took a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. His lips trembled as he said, "you did."

Aziraphale slid the ring off his finger, turning it so she could see the inside. There enough his name was scrawled in haphazard writing. It had faded from the years, some of the details lost to time. But she remembered this ring when it was new. When William had gotten it in his shop and didn't know what to make of it. And she'd taken it, knew it would be special.

She pressed a soft kiss to the ring, then slid it back on Aziraphale's finger. She looked him in the eyes as she kissed the back of his hand, "I remember you."

The tears had actually fallen now, hitting his cheeks softly. He didn't try to hide it, and she wouldn't want him to. Perhaps it was this whole eternal blessing thing, but she was drawn to him.

Then she turned to the demon. Crowley. He sat high and mighty in his chair, looking away as though he were intruding on Aziraphale's private moment. He was handsome in a different way than Aziraphale. Where Aziraphale was soft and strong, Crowley was sharp and sweet. She smiled when she looked at him, knowing he was sweet without saying it.

She went to him to, lifting her hand then asking softly, "may I touch you?"

He swallowed, and nodded. She first touched his hair, it was softer then it looked. Her fingertips brushed it so it feel on his forehead, liking the contrast of his skin against the red. Then she traced along his tattoo, the way his cheekbone felt under her touch.

With gentle hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face so he had to look her in the eyes. She smiled. "I'd wondered if they were still yellow."

He closed his eyes, cringing. He'd always hated his eyes. "Sorry they're-"

"Beautiful." He opened his eyes quickly. "I remember your eyes. They've been in my dreams and I never knew why. The man with the yellow snake eyes. They are so, so beautiful. Like a sunflower."

"You're comparing s'demon eyes to a sunflower?"

She smiled and nodded, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Crowley sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. It as though the attention itself would make him implode.

"Keep them closed," she said. Then he felt a pair of soft lips kiss one eyelid, then the other. "Absolutely beautiful. Don't you think so, Aziraphale?"

Crowley was shocked to hear Aziraphale agree. "I adore your eyes, dear. They've been my favorite for a long time."

The three didn't know what to do with themselves, time frozen around them. But however strange the situation, she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She wanted to get to know this Angel and demon, understand their pasts and more about their connection.

“Thank you, my dear, for your patience,” Aziraphale said kindly.

“I suppose I should be thanking you, you’ve waited hundreds of years.” She said with a dry laugh that made Crowley smile.

There weren’t any words that seemed to describe the moment the three of them shared, in a moment frozen in time knowing they had all the time in the world. But for now it was enough, and that was all it needed to be.

[collapsedglasshouses]

PLEASE SHUT UP || Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader [Part Two]

READ PART ONE HERE.

PICTURE FOUND ON PINTEREST

SUMMARY: This is based on a request by @yumikitten (you can read the request in part one if you want to c: )

WARNINGS: SMUT [oral sex, female receiving; fingering], MDNI, angst, fluff, nick being an asshole, enemies to lovers, ...

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @thatchickwiththecamera @cookiesupplier @jilliemiw86

A/N: Hey! I hope you're all doing well! Here's Part 2! I think I don't have much to say today. So enjoy and consider reblogging, if you liked it. (also its not really proof read im sorry) Thank youuu!

The past few days had been more than tough. Nick and Y/n were avoiding each other so much that they didn't even acknowledge one another anymore. The other guys in the group were beyond frustrated. Every sound check became a gloomy affair, with everyone in a bad mood. The frustration reached a point where the boys couldn't take it anymore, and they started making snarky comments to Nick and her.

Currently, they all sat together on the living room couch during their days off from the tour, which only made things worse since they were still living together. While the rest of the group chatted, Y/n and Nick remained silent. Normally, Y/n would have retreated to her room, but Noah insisted she should stay in the living room. He had had a sincere conversation with her about how the situation couldn't continue like this and that Nick and her needed to resolve whatever was going on between them.

The problem was Y/n had no clue what was going on in Nick's mind. She couldn't stop replaying the moment he kissed her and how she didn't immediately put a stop to it. Her thoughts were a mess, making it impossible for her to focus on anything. Despite managing not to make another mistake during their performances, everything else was chaotic, especially Nick's confusing behavior.

As Y/n took a sip from her water bottle, her attention involuntarily returned to Nick. He was looking at her, but as soon as she noticed, he averted his gaze. Y/n felt like she was about to burst. She endured the tension for another twenty minutes before sighing and deciding to call it a night.

She paid no attention to the look Noah shot her. She had reached her limit and just wanted some time alone.

��Good night, guys.” She mumbled to the boys and didn’t even wait for their responses, before she stood up and dragged herself up the stairs and straight into the bathroom. She quickly began her evening routine. She brushed her teeth and washed her face before looking in the mirror. She looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days, which was in fact true. There wasn’t a night, where she hadn’t been lying in bed, thinking about the chaotic situation she was currently in.

She sighed before looking at the laundry rack, in hopes to find a shirt she could sleep in but when she didn’t see one of her own, she just mindlessly grabbed one of the shirts hanging there and decided to wear it, like she always did. Right as she was finished changing, she turned to the door and jump in fear.

Nick was standing in the door frame, looking at her with an intense gaze.

“What the hell are you doing?” She exclaimed in surprised and hugged herself, wondering how long he had been standing there.

“Just… wanted to brush my teeth.” He mumbled. Y/n realized how this had been the first couple of words the two had exchanged since their fight. For a second, she looked at him, standing in front of the sink. He looked just as exhausted than her; strands of his messy bun falling onto his shoulders.

Y/n took a deep breath before walking to the door, but right before she left, she began to hesitate. She again looked at her former friend, her mind racing as fast as it gets.

Nick noticed her gaze while brushing his teeth, so he looked at her through the mirror. Even though every look he shot at her was kind of painful now, he tried to hold her gaze. His eyebrows shot up, wondering why she hadn’t already left, while Y/n was struggling with herself.

“Can-…” She began. “Can we talk?”

She knew she wasn't the one who should have taken the initiative, but she had Noah's voice in her head the whole time, telling her it couldn't go on like this. She knew that too. She didn't want to go on like this either.

Nick took the toothbrush out of his mouth, a brief uncertainty crossing his face. There was a momentary hesitation in his expression, as if he weighted his options before answering. His eyes flickered for a moment, before he slowly began to nod. After that he washed out his mouth. “Not here though…”

Now Y/n nodded, almost crumbling under the tension that danced between the two.

They quietly walked into Y/n’s room, trying not to catch the attention of anyone downstairs and quickly found themselves sitting on her bed. After that silence came over them again.

The room felt suffocating, the unresolved tension between the two creating a invisible barrier between the them. As they sat on the edge of the bed, the silence became more and more unbearable, each passing seconds underlining the weight of the words that seemingly wouldn’t come out.

Y/n’s gaze lingered on Nick, her eyes mirroring a mixture of frustration and longing. She couldn’t shake off the memories of that unexpected kiss and it echoed in her mind like a constant reminder of the cruel nothingness between them.

Nick shifted uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding hers. The guilt of his impulsive actions weighed heavily on him, and he felt the need to explain what was going on, but he seemingly couldn’t bring a word out.

“You know… I’m not good with words.” Nick mumbled quietly.

“Oh, really? Wouldn’t have noticed without you saying that.” Y/n answered him just as quietly.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to find the right words.

“We can’t keep going on like this.” Y/n admitted, her voice almost breaking while speaking out her thoughts. “We used to be so close and now it feels like we’re literal enemies living under the same roof.”

Nick sighed; his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know," he responded, the weariness evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know how to fix this."

Y/n nodded, taking in the first nice words Nick has said to her in the last months. "Neither do I," she admitted, her eyes meeting his. "But we can't keep going on like this. It's affecting everyone, not just us."

For a moment, they locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. The weight of the unsaid words hung in the air, but there was a mutual recognition that something needed to change.

Silence set over them again. Y/n felt like she was going to have a heart attack. Before she could even think, the words came out of her. “I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. It keeps haunting me.”

Nick's eyes softened as he listened, realizing the impact of his actions. "I didn't mean to complicate things," he admitted. "I just... I don't know what came over me."

Ignoring his statement, Y/n finally got the question out she wanted to ask him so desperately. “What did I do to you to make you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, Y/n.” – “Then why do you keep acting so mean towards me?”

Nick sighed, again, not knowing what to say to her. Her presence made him slowly go crazy.

Y/n swallowed hard, turning to him. “I’m willing to move past this, if you finally tell me what I did wrong, Nick.”

“You did nothing wrong.” He mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze but seemingly unable to look away. God, he loved looking at her, but it was his own fault that he wasn’t able to do so anymore. Just because he was childish enough to think everything would magically go back to normal. “I don’t know why I’m being an asshole to you.”

“See, this is where you’re lying.” – “What do you mean?” – “You know exactly why you’re doing this.”

Nick sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

“I-…” Nick started but hesitated. When he saw Y/n shout him a reassuring gaze, he started again. “I just don’t want to ruin our friendship entirely.”

“I think you already did that, Nick.” She coldly answered him, while her insides were turning upside down. She wanted to hate him for everything he did, but every time she tried, something kept pulling her back to the vision of them being as close as they used to. Even closer.

Nick reached for Y/n’s hand and took it into his own. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I’m really sorry what I did to you.”

“Why, Nick? Just tell me why?” She asked him, desperation laced over her gaze.

“You know what? Sometimes it is hard to look at you.” Nick blurted out, not exactly sure if she would get what he was trying to say.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked confused, hurt written all over the face.

Nick sighed in frustration. “You know, this is exactly what I mean. I’m not good with words and I’m a fucking idiot. How am I supposed to tell you how much I love you when I’m not even able to confront these feelings myself?”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “You what?”

Nick felt his heart sank in his chest. He realized his mistake the second it slipped out. He started to panic. His mind was racing. How the fuck should he go on from that.

“What did you just say?” Y/n whispered to him, her heart almost jumping out of her chest. Everything was tingling. She didn’t even know how badly she needed to hear Nick’s words. How badly she wanted him to tell her he didn’t hate her. But hearing those words slip out of his mouth, almost let her fall to her knees.

Nick’s mouth was slightly opened, when Y/n scooted closer to him. He felt like he was going to explode. Never in his entire life he had allowed himself to be this vulnerable to anyone. Not even Noah.

Y/n was so close to him, he could almost feel her breath on his face.

“Say it again, Nick.” She pleaded with him, her knees touching his.

“I love you, Y/n… And I tried to distance myself and didn’t notice how cruel I became until it was too late.” He whispered and noticed how his eyes flickered to her lips for a second.

Y/n was going to burst into a million little pieces. Nick loved her.

Without even thinking, she sat on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck, while his hands held her firmly by her hips.

“Say it again.” She begged again, while leaning closer to him.

“I fucking love you, Y/n.” He breathed against her lips and with that Y/n leaned in and without another word, their lips met in a tender kiss. Y/n couldn’t help but sigh. It felt like every ounce of doubt left her body when she felt his lips press against hers again. She craved him. She wanted him to be good to her so bad.

When Y/n slightly grinded on his lap, his grip on her hips became tighter and she swore she heard a soft tone escape his lips. Even though they both felt like they were going to suffocate any minute, neither of them dared to pull away.

Nick’s hands squeezed her waist softly while he licked her bottom lip, asking for entrance that she granted. Their tongues danced in a slow and passionate way. He bit her lip, causing her to moan softly. Y/n’s hands roamed into his hair, tugging on it gently.

When they finally pulled away, it wasn’t for long. For a short second they stared into each other’s eyes, both filled with lust and desperation.

Almost immediately Nick sank his head and kissed down her neck, causing Y/n to breathe heavily. Everything tingled. She couldn’t form a straight thought. All she could think about was Nick and how he told her he loved her.

She felt him smile against her skin as he sucked the flesh on her neck until he left a mark. He needed to make sure to never let go of her again.

“Did you notice you grabbed my shirt from the rack?” He whispered against her skin, making her shift a bit to look down on herself. She shook her head, to flustered to form words.

“I like it on you.” He whispered and peppered small kisses on her cheeks. “But I think I’ll like it even better on the floor.”

Nick didn’t need to tell Y/n twice and with a swift motion she pulled the shirt over her head. Nick almost moaned at the sight of her naked body. He couldn’t believe she was sitting on him, only wearing her panties. He was rock hard. This was literal dream material to him.

“You are so so beautiful.” He whispered while caressing her breasts. Y/n took a shaky breath when his lips travelled from her neck to her collarbone and eventually to her breasts; slightly biting on her nipples. Y/n felt like this was a dream. It couldn’t be real. Not even a day ago, they couldn’t even look at each other and now she wanted nothing else but to feel him.

Her hands landed on his long hair again. God, did she love his hair.

“Gosh, Nick.” She moaned out, causing Nick to cover her mouth with one of his hands.

“We don’t want the others to hear us, do we?” He mumbled, looking her directly into her eyes. She slowly nodded. “Good. Be good for me, alright?”

She nodded again, feeling heat shoot to her core.

With a swift motion, he laid her on her bed, not letting go of her. His kisses started to travel down her stomach. When he arrived at her hip bone, he looked up at her again. “Is that okay?”

Y/n nodded.

“Use your words, Y/n. I need to be sure this is okay.”

“Gosh, Nick. Yes. Please.” She whined, wiggling with anticipation under his grip.

Nick laughed sweetly, before pulling down her underwear. Then the kisses began again. She felt like her skin was burning as Nick kissed along her hip bone before slowly moving down to her thighs. He was now fully kneeing in front of the bed, getting a perfect view of her wet folds.

He peppered soft kisses along her thighs and here and there she felt him sucking on her skin, making sure to leave marks that he could admire later. Y/n felt how she slowly grew impatient, whining and wiggling in his grip, but Nick didn’t let that happen. He was going to take his time with her.

His hands travelled to her hips, holding her steady against the mattress as his tongue licked its way to her core. He only let go of her with one hand, to let his fingers feather over her folds for a second. Right as Y/n was about to protest again, he attached his mouth to her clit.

Y/n quickly covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the piercing moan that threatened to escape her throat. It felt so good, she was sure she wasn’t going to last long but she was so concentrated on not alert her other friends downstairs that she didn’t dare to speak up.

When she felt surer, she wouldn’t just full-on scream, she whined out. “Nick… Fuck. It feels so fucking good.” Y/n didn’t even realize how bad she had needed Nick to touch her. It felt like he was made to be between her legs.

Nick moaned against her core because of her statement. The vibrations of his voice made her thighs tremble.

Right when Y/n felt like it couldn’t get any better, he slowly inserted his fingers into her. She gripped the bedsheets so hard, she feared she would rip them.

She wasn’t even able to tell him how close she was when the waves of her orgasm already started to wash over her. She bit her lip so hard while shaking uncontrollable under his touch, trying to contain her moans.

She felt how his hand drew small circles on her hips, while he slowly pulled his fingers out of her. She looked at him, still not able to control her breathing, just in time to see how he licked his fingers clean of her arousal.

She leaned up on her elbows and shortly after, Nick and her lips met in a sweet kiss. She could taste herself on him and felt like she was going to crumble again. She couldn’t really process the events evolving in front of her, but she knew she wanted to stay like this forever.

This was when she noticed Nick’s hard cock against her naked thigh. While still kissing him, one of her hands started to travel down his body but before she could even reach his hardened member, he grabbed her wrist softly.

“I wanna help you, Nick.” She nearly whined out, desperate to get even closer to him, but Nick shook his head. “No, Y/n. This, right here, is all about you.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I have to make up for the bullshit I fabricated over the last couple of months.”

Y/n looked into his blue eyes that she had been admiring since the second she had laid eyes on him. She felt how her heart warmed at the sight of him. He was looking at her like he used to, but now she could grasp what the emotions were behind his eyes. He admired her with such a deep love in his eyes, she felt like she was going to collapse.

This was when she noticed something.

“Nick?” – “Yeah?” – “I didn’t say it back.” – “You didn’t have to.”

With that he kissed her again, all their emotions flowing between them. She caressed his cheek for a second, before he pulled away again. His pupils were dilated again. “Now… Let me show you just how sorry I am.”

Y/n knew she wasn’t going to sleep much that night…

[okifyouinsist]

tagged by @killerandhealerqueen (i just keep forgetting abt this one SIGH but i have free time rn and im committed)

1. why did you choose your url?

growing up, i just wasn't a social media girl purely bc of the fact that my parents were super strict and I assumed they wouldn't allow me to have it and I just never really saw the appeal anyways. Then later a few friends basically forced me to make my first account and because i wasn't very creative and thought i was the funniest bitch ever i made my first user 'ifyouinsist' and it just kinda stuck ig

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

nope. i fear if i had a sideblog id end up neglecting it and forget abt it or make it my new main blog and neglect this blog and this blog is literally my baby

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

well i've had an account since like end of 2019, beginning of 2020???? (im pretty sure) i didnt like use my account tho i just had it to look at other ppls blogs not my own, i only acc recently made up my blog up properly and started posting this year when it was like 2 am and i was on holiday to visit my home country and my mum and my aunts were gossiping and i was like whatever who tf cares how late i am to a fandom and the rest was history

4. do you have a queue tag?

nope, my drafts are a terrifying place and if they ever saw light id die

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

to reblog pretty art and to compliment writers on ao3 AND on tumblr bc they deserve everything and more

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

logan sargeant. need i say any more???? hes my bsf in spirit

7. why did you choose your header?

loscar. LOSCAR. loscar. i am very much totally normal abt them i swear (lying through my teeth rn). they're just my everything unfortunately and sometimes i like to say the fist bump is their version of intertwining their fingers together

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

ik this bc it was the first i myself made and it was abt loscar obviously and i thought i was SO funny (im not) and its lowk still such a flop post but its MY flop post so here it is :)

9. how many mutuals do you have?

idk man im shy (scared of rejection) so i dont have a lot, like genuinely let me go see acc, oh ig its me and my 14 moots against the world i love you guys fr

10. how many followers do you have?

BYE my 26 followers are my 4 lifers fr (im such a flop this is hilarious)

11. how many people do you follow?

37 (sigh need to follow more ppl RN)

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

im gonna be so real idk what defines as a shit post but most probably yeah

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

idk im acc really inconsistent like ill be MIA for 2 whole days and the next week ill be on tumblr like for most of my day when i can its very confusing like today ive not been on it a lot im academically locking in and all that

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

ummm no. like. if i see someone i follow getting hate ill send them a supportive ask and then at the end of it be like anon ur such a loser get a life but other than that. nope.

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

im very much neutral abt them, like idc if i need to reblog it yk if i want to i will if i dont then i wont

16. do you like tag games?

YES (said in a very normal voice)

17. do you like ask games

YES. i love getting asks id cry if someone sent an ask (i have one rotting away from a moot rn i WILL answer it i swear)

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

can i say all my moots. i wanna say all my moots they're all famous in my eyes guys, i start tagging its gonna end with all my moots being tagged but like @killerandhealerqueen and @dwarvenchords were the first 2 ppl to come to my mind theyre both just the coolest fr

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

nah. i have FRIEND crushes on literally all of them tho. wanna be their friends SO bad

20. what is the last song you listened to?

Mamichula- Bizarrap

21. what are you currently watching?

in my docuseries era rn watching breakpoint (STILL)(i only have time on the weekends rn SIGH)

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy?

sweet. im such a 'lets skip the dinner and just get dessert' kinda girl

23. what is your current relationship status?

this is SUCH a complicated question to answer but heavily leaning more towards single

24. what is your current obsession?

sports. like just sports in general. like ive always been a casual fan of sports but i never used to take a deep dive into it but this year i decided to dive, and i dived VERY deep, so like motorsports, tennis, football, cricket, trying to get into hocky rn im collecting them atp. also. documentaries. like when i get time ill be binge watching like 5 documentaries i just love them sm

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

wish i could tell you fr, i mean, rn im re listening to SOUR by Olivia Rodriguez AGAIN bc thats the way my life is going SIGH, Olivia is my favourite basic artist fr, nothing compares to listening to SOUR for the first time in 2021

ANYWAYS, thanks again for the tag i really appreciate it, im gonna tag @ezisregrettinglifedecisions @fabeong @whatssthepooiintt

[marzywuz]

GRRRRRAYSJUD UGSHYEKDHXOJCLXJSLDJKD YES THEM 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Since I already saw that you drawed Kim and Sunny individually... could you draw them together please?

Heres a lil doodle of em sure!! Heres one w aubrey in it too since i heard you're a fan of all 3 of em together

[fagsex]

i had been too scared for years to check up on this really shitty thing from when i was a kid because his name his face the building they all made me nauseous and i knew if there was any justice at all it would be too little. i researched it today and turns out i was right. fucking scum got let go and all charges dropped for lack of competency. should that not speak more? when he was initially charged, it was on cnn, usatoday, cbc, covered so much that ive had friends ive made over the years in different states tell me they heard about him. ive found news articles in french about him. and yet not a word from any source outside of local about how he got fully away with it.

this is a weird thing for me to be randomly rambling about but sometimes it just hits me what happened. dr howard schneider of jacksonville florida, the only pediatric dentist to take medicaid in the largest city by area in the fucking continental united states, tortured, not exaggeration, tortured children for 30 years. at least.

when i say im afraid of dentists, im testy around dentistry, and teeth, and so much related things to it, everyone brushes it off easily as a common fear. which is naturally how he got away with it for so long. we were children physically restrained with leather straps. the doors were locked, parents werent allowed to come back, at a pediatric dentist. there were patients with teeth they just got being ripped out of their heads. i was either never given anesthetic, or, on more than one occasion, given so much i violently threw up, while lying down, restrained. i was seven years old tied strapped down choking on my own vomit with a bubblegum gas going in my nose. i can still smell it.

cold air still makes me nauseous. gas masks make me anxious. i couldnt lie down or feel relaxed anywhere that wasnt my bedroom for years. i would be sent to the nurses office as a kid, and refuse to lie down, because i felt like if i did, pain would begin. i would go in for a checkup and leave with too tight, too wrong crowns, covering my teeth. often, my teeth were not inspected or cleaned beforehand, just straight in with the drill. adult clamps in a childs mouth because i was being 'a whiny brat'.

have you ever been to a dentists office, or any medical office whatsoever, where an entire wall was a mirror? i could see myself held down and put through hell. i was too scared to put anything in my mouth at home, it repulsed me, not to mention my gums, my cheeks, the roof of my mouth, tongue, everything hurt so bad. i figured out later it wasnt normal, he was slicing them with a scalpel, with a pick, anything and everything. he put a hole in my sisters cheek. my baby sister walked, toddled out of there with a hole in her cheek after her first check up. we still went back, we couldnt afford anyone else, and he kept telling us how much work my mouth needed. he kept trying to convince my parents i may need braces, but i had the straightest teeth my parents had ever seen.

my heart still drops when i hear a drill, any drill. certain smells make me feel like i cant speak or breathe. my own mother screamed at me for being dramatic, for complaining so much. she said itd only hurt if i didnt listen, and he said the same. he said id be in trouble, big trouble if i told, and i remember it clear as day. he put on a movie on the ceiling tv he bought with the money medicaid gave him for ripping our milk teeth out, and it was the same movie everytime. some people dont understand that even the silliest, oddest thing can scare you if it sticks. he put his hands on my neck several times to restrain me and keep me from moving, and had me stare at the ceiling, and as fucking lame as it sounds, i could not listen to jerry seinfelds voice or participate in any bee movie jokes that became en vogue in 2016 or so, because i was legitimately terrified.

my own mother would mock my fears of putting things in my mouth to clean them, saying that if i was actually scared, i'd want to clean my teeth more so i'd see him less. it wouldn't matter what i did. and a scared 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 year old doesn't have that logic. i was just a lazy kid with disgusting teeth who was scared of the dentist, to everyone. in late 2019, the crowns he gave me all exploded, and took my teeth with them. four, five of my teeth were slowly destroyed and chipped out of my mouth. and every day i had to feel that scraping again, the cutting up of my mouth, how it filled with blooded. i couldnt talk or eat, but my family saw that as a positive, and i was too ashamed to tell them my teeth broke in my mouth. i knew they would see it as a sign of how disgusting i was. to be in my teens, and already have teeth abandoning me.

the state of florida forgave this. over 100 parents and children presented stories like mine, and he was still forgiven. i dont have a reason for sharing this, not now, not really. its not a special date, nor recent news. i dont even have some message behind this, other than oversharing. it was not just him either. it was every adult who did not listen or care, i suppose. it was the nurses there too. it was the state, it was his attorneys and lawyers that he could use his millions on that he made putting patients off anesthetics in papoose boards.

he was never even charged with child abuse, but fraud. the money was the most important thing the law found. i didnt smile with my teeth for years, my sisters speech was delayed for years, i had panic attacks in the middle of the day in middle school over a cartoon bee, ive had to remove 4 shattered teeth from my head and have several other teeth reconstructed where he broke and did not fix them,i was blamed for all the dental problems that suddenly appeared in my mouth when i began going to him, ive been belittled my entire life for such a childish 'fear', and that was never in question. just the fact he took my teeth to make money, that he put me and thousands of poor children, in both senses of the adjective, through hell to charge medicaid.

anyway what the fuck right. im sorry i dont know why im writing this all out right now but it just feels so stuck inside me that itll burst from my chest if i dont write it out. its actually relaxed me quite a lot. if you live in florida or georgia and you see some old bitch who looks like this just feel free to get him on sight 🤙

[fools-and-perverts2]

which character from bbc's the musketeers match up to the songs in the fool in her wedding gown

because ive decided it's my blog and i'll flop if i want to ALSO bear in mind i haven't watched season 3 yet i may make an updated version when i have)

Icarus - Milady de Winter SEASON TWO (she ran away, you could say she save athos flew too close to the sun, "who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here" just speaks to me as something athos would say to her)

Steady Steady - Anne (it's about an unhappy marriage, what else can i say, she and Louis both "lost [their] head, [their] sense of direction" also i love her and this is my fave song)

Easier - Margaruite (she wanted to be with Aramis but knows it can't work, "if i were someone else/would this be easier?")

Shallow River - Aramis ("i know that the promise you wear/well it ain't for me" is about Anne, he wants to be with her but knows it can't happen in real life, also "waste it all for the title/waste it all for the crown" is directed at Louis also this one's my other favourite)

Strangler Fig - Rochefort, from Anne's perspective (she realised she couldn't trust him and that even after all she's done for him he had ulterior motives, "you built your kingdom around me/now I'm trapped inside your walls/and all i want is to be free" is almost literal in this sense)

The Glacier House - Athos SEASON TWO (he refuses to admit any feelings for milady, "closed the gate on love forever" you could say, i chose this as opposed to how to rest because it portrays a -not wanting love- rather than -denying love- you know?)

Tongues & Teeth - Milady de Winter SEASON ONE (she's closed off to feelings and normal relationships and she knows that, "i will poison all your happy thoughts" she thinks she could never be properly loved but she will manipulate people into thinking they love her i.e d'artagnan also the way the glacier house smoothly transitions into this one shows how milady and athos are linked together)

Back To The Ground - Porthos/his father (porthos realised his father was lying to him and using him, "just remember to/give me back to the ground" he returns to the musketeers after his father turned him against them, also i love this song and i love porthos so)

Show Your Fangs - Constance (she's a woman wishing she could take back agency and speak out when she sees fit, after years of being subdued buy her husband she finally stands up for herself against him, "i am a lioness/fierce as i walk through the night")

Once & For All - Captain Treville (he feels guilty about not telling porthos about his father but justified it in his head, when porthos was arguing with him he knew he was being manipulated "im putting my foot down/weak knees and all")

Canary In A Coal Mine - Louis (despite everything he did love Anne, whatever kind of love that may be but he can sense she loves someone else, he's worried about his future being married to her and that she might forget him, "but i still hold it hope that maybe someday/I'll be worth more than the silence left in my way" speaks to his insecurities)

How To Rest - Constance (ik she totally speedran that arc but I'm talking the episode after her husband died and she had a brief mourning, that ep kept making new think of "the heart is just a muscle/with a rhythm of it's own")

[frenziedslashers]

I know your hyper fixated on TWD and, I apologize in advance

but, may I ask for a crumb of krieg?

Just him, with an s/o who is also mentally unstable? Just his s/o yelling out something like

“IM GONNA WEAR YOU LIKE A SKIN ONSIE” or some other brutal shit like that.

I honestly don’t care if you do the request s/o as asked above, I just need anything with krieg. I love him so much, and you the only writer I know of that can write for him so well. I absolutely love your work <3

A/N: STOP I'M FLATTERED 😭 I didn't think I wrote for Krieg THAT well, but thank you nonetheless anon! I love seeing that people enjoy my borderlands content because I am so in love with that franchise. No matter what hyper fixation I am in, I will always make time for those games 🫶 I love them, and thank you for the request! Take this small Drabble, I hope you enjoy it :))

Pairing: Krieg x GN! Reader

Warnings: Vulgar language, Psycho talk, lmk if I need to add more!

REQUEST INFO || BL MASTERLIST

Krieg didn't know how to feel about you at first. For a while, he thought you were mocking him. The stuff you would scream sounded like gibberish to normal ears, but to him, it was everyday stuff he said. "I'M GONNA WEAR YOU LIKE A SKIN ONSIE", "BITE THROUGH THE FLESH AND PICK THROUGH MY TEETH," and so many more phrases that he swore you stole from him.

Yet, at the same time, he swore he had never said them. Phrases so familiar yet so new. Was he losing it more than he thought?

It wasn't until you both got closer that he finally realized you said them because you were just as crazy as he was. He didn't want to accept it before you told him. The thought had crossed his mind, but he wondered if maybe it was just him hoping you weren't like everyone else. That you were like him.

"I have to say them or else my head hurts. Sometimes it's because I'm nervous, other times I'm just bored. Sometimes I don't even know why," You'd tell him, and he felt a little more seen. Like someone finally understood him. Someone who wasn't a bandit or a psycho.

From that day on he felt a little more attached to you as well. Like he knew he couldn't let anything happen to you or else he'd be even more alone than before.

For some reason, the thought of losing you made his bones hurt and his chest ache. His bandit side felt weak. His human side knew that you made him feel more alive than ever. Like maybe there was a sliver of hope that he could have a normal conversation with you one day without worrying about screaming something absurd.

"I WILL EAT THE BABIES OF THE OLD AND MAKE A NECKLACE OF THE TEETH OF THE YOUNG FOR YOU," was his way of saying that he cared about you, and did in fact love you. From the smile on your face, he could tell that you understood. His body bubbled with unfamiliar waves of joy when you asked if you could hug him.

He happily accepted the hug, of course. Why wouldn't he? You were his perfect match. You were the voice of reason in their duo, while also being just as mad as he was. He'd be lying if he said he hated when you fought beside him. He loved it, really. You could hold your ground and be just as badass as any vault hunter he's ever met.

As crazy as you were, he wouldn't change you for the world.

[suffarustuffaru]

hello. im back because im on my playlist kick and found yet another older rezero playlist of mine and then fixed it up. im very normal about amnesiabaru and gluttony if (lying through my teeth) :3

anyway. this is also in narrative order from roughly the start of the amnesiabaru arc all the way to roughly the start of gluttony if. ever wanted to have a music playlist about the transition from amnesiabaru to gluttonybaru? now you got it 👍

notes under the cut.

the three songs with jp titles are called (in order of appearance on the playlist) "donut hole", "patchwork staccato", and "nonsense speaker" in english. i highly recommend reading the english translated lyrics for these (the nonsense speaker cover i used IS in english though on this playlist) if you arent a jp speaker bc theyre very good songs and i think they fit. plus ive actually seen patchwork staccato used for gluttony if animatics haah (and. you know. the Title is very. very good.)

a lot of the songs i chose have very nice references to gluttony if related things... not just in song title either haah and a lot of these song choices were me half-joking but like. ok i had a jekyll and hyde phase and im still quite fond of that story ok. i can use as many jekyll and hyde songs as i like. and i think its really funny using them for a gluttony if playlist 😭 tokyo ghoul and frankenstein songs too... THEY FIT THOUGH I PROMISE. and "people watching".... yeah subarus about to do some people watching alright. i am probably so foul for these song choices but i stand by it 😭

i used donut hole as the intro song for Reasons (see the lyrics) and also rabbit heart by florence bc. ok i know i keep using florence songs but hear me out. rabbit heart on this playlist represents amnesiabaru popping into existence and being happy with being isekaied (he is about to get his shit rocked)

anyway other important songs include:

world has gone insane: ngl this song slaps so hard i dont care what anyone else says. it changed my brain chemistry hearing it years ago. its very good. i highly recommend this song over all other songs on this list. and also this song in this playlist marks amnesiabaru officially dying and getting his shit rocked <3 the world HAS gone insane!!

papers: continuation of amnesiabaru getting his shit rocked.

class of 2013: i. i think its very clear why this song is here once you listen to it 😭

lifeboat: subaru gets more paranoid 👍

empty pages: books.

a sadness runs through him + i need to know: the official transition into gluttony if....

one of us + nonsense speaker: they are the finale songs to show the sad sad tragedy that is gluttony if 👍

i have very in depth thoughts on gluttony if but ive spent all my brain cells writing selfcest fic and making this music playlist LMAO but yes this playlist reveals some more of my interpretations on gluttony if. maybe one day i will actually make analysis posts on it.

anyway if you read all this thank you for indulging me!!!! :o

[swordmaid]

wait i kinda like this convo. two things : shri'iia's fake ass going like 'i can't trust someone who hides secrets from me!' 🙄🙄🙄 as if she's also not hiding her whole identity and faith currently!! and she's scouting out her new companions at that moment, seeing who's useful to her and all that but i kinda ijbol giggle at the idea of her getting in her high horse going like i need u to be honest with me! meanwhile wearing the no. 1 liar sash so hypocritical of her makes her downfall much more funnier i think. second thing - astarion going like 'i need you and you need me. it's that simple' it's kinda giving early asos jaime thinking that he just needs to get rid of brienne and run back to kl and his life will be normal again - like it's not the same energy obvi jaime is more deranged (surprisingly) but it's in the same wavelength..!! you're not anticipating the deep bond you're gonna form throughout this journey you fool..!!!! astarion going like i need you and you need me it's that simple vs epilogue line abt how the last six month is a balm to his 200 years of misery and him finding genuine happiness finally cackling im SORRY this shit is cat nip to me like i know im the one picking the options to get this outcome but im like HEHEHEHEHEHE. in my head the convo is a bit longer though, and he'll probably take a jab at her that she's hiding something as well bc i think he'd catch on that she's lying through her teeth about being surface born.. i mean, it is pretty obvious lol and whenever it gets brought up in conversation she just talks her way out of the topic and they do have other pressing matters (like the tadpole dilemma bc they're still hunting for halsin in this moment) so they don't really care too deeply abt personal topics currently since they're trying their best not to transform into a pack of squids. but i kinda like this convo for them 🤭🤭🤭

[clownfucker9000]

im so normal about them (lying through my fucking teeth)

[erythristicbones]

"im so normal about this villain OC. i can leave them evil" (lying through my teeth)