#like. THEY’RE SINGING BAD OMENS???? and they’re OPENING THE SHOW WITH IT??????

[an-ivy-covered-summer]

going to the 5sos show tour with the knowledge of a gigantic dice being thrown to the audience as the only spoiler i had was truly the best decision i’ve ever made. the shriek that left my body the second bad omens started……… GIRL I FELT SO ALIVE!!!!!!!!!

[blot-squisher]

SFW Alphabet for the Huntress

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game the Huntress

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Anna has all but forgotten how to show affection to everyone but those incredibly special to her. Only then do the soft lullaby's she hums take on a loving tone, instead of acting as an omen of doom.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Can you hunt? Fish? Fight? Survive? If you can't but have managed to get her attention through other means, she'll teach you. No. You don't get a choice. She. Will. Teach. You.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Have you ever been held in a headlock by a bear? It's a little like that, but with less hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Settling down is not an option. If you settle, you starve. Cooking is important. If you can't cook your food, you risk picking up disease and being rendered unable to hunt. Then you starve.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) An ax. Maybe two axes. Depends on how bad of a mood she's in.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Marriage is fine, but only to the right person. Commitment is something to be taken incredibly seriously. Giving up is not an option. You know what? That's right. You'll starve.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Shockingly, Anna can be incredibly gentle, but it's reserved almost exclusively for small children. Emotions? Ha. Emotions won't feed you so suck it up and go do something useful.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) She's not fond of being touched by anyone but a very select few. If you're lucky enough to be one of those few, cherish her hugs. They're few and far between, and tight as a vice.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) It's difficult for Anna to express love. Give her enough time (a very long time) and she'll get there. Once she's sure she won't lose you anyway.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Jealousy is motivation. Someone has something you want? Something you need? Strive to be better than them. Make them jealous. If that doesn't work, eat them. Then you get their stuff and you won't starve.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) Anna is more of a biter than a kisser, but when she does kiss it might feel like she's trying to steal the soul from your body. Although you'll have a hard time getting her to admit it (and god help you if you tell anyone) she likes being kissed on abdomen and sternum.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Anna longs to be a mother. A bit more clear headed then before the Entity took her, she knows kidnapping children isn't the way. Maybe someday she'll have a daughter of her own, but until then she will continue to dream.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Be ready to be up before the sun rises. The best way to hunt an animal is to be at the food or water before it is. The best way to hunt a man is to make sure he doesn't see you until it's too late...

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) As long as the chores are done, it's time to unwind. Sharing stories and singing songs until it's time to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Anna will reveal things about herself in the form of lessons. Stories of hunts, lessons from her mother, memories of surviving harsh winters and scorching summers. All things will be revealed in time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Anna is perpetually angry. A hard and tragic life has all but gutted the kindness out of her.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) Your first successful hunt. Not one where she brought you along and brought down the prey, but the first time you struck the killing blow without her needing to guide you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) There is no one Anna wouldn't kill to keep her partner safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) You will be given a nice handmade gift. Not a weapon or tool. But something that reminds her of you. Probably a small hand carved wooden animal of some kind.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) There aren't enough laxatives in the world to relieve Anna's emotional constipation.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) As long as she looks scary, she's happy. If her face is the last thing you ever see, she wants it to fill you with terror.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) NO.... yes

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Anna dislikes men for a number of reasons. Her mother raised her and the only men she ever saw were seen as a threat. As well, she finds them quite useless overall. One or two may rise above her preconceived judgment, but it's not an easy feat.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) An inability or unwillingness to learn new things. Especially things that can be used to keep you alive.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) She only sleeps at night if there's time. Daylight is not to be wasted.

[omens-and-more]

I’m not sure if any of you are old enough to remember Pierce the veil at their prime. They released “Collide with the Sky” and were one of the biggest bands in the scene…. Then they disappeared for 4 years and came out with an album that just didn’t pop off or bring them back to the fame they were at before they left. (They disappeared because of allegations). But what I’m trying to say is, I feel like Bad Omens is following suit. They’re huge right now and they’re starting to completely disappear without anything to announce other than the occasional merch drop and festival. I wonder a few things….

1. Are these merch drops and occasional festivals enough to pay the bills? Let alone pay for the massive production they’re starting to put out at said festivals they play? Shit isn’t cheap.

2. How long are they going to tease the fans with something only for it to be them playing some random show and not releasing new music?

3. This has nothing to do with above, but I think the way they treat their fans will ultimately be their downfall. You can argue that they don’t owe us anything but… without any of us they wouldn’t be where they are today? And some acknowledgement and appreciation would be nice but they clearly don’t give a fuck.

Idk these are just some shower thoughts but I truly feel like we’re about to witness the downfall of BO because they haven’t released any new music other than 3 songs since DOPOM came out (remixes don’t count imo). They teased so many studio photos a few months ago… where is the music from these sessions? Or were they old/from them doing the 3 songs/remixes? Tbh I think Noah should just leave the band and be a producer because it’s clearly something he enjoys doing and he doesn’t want to be in the spotlight. The boys can find another frontman who can perform the songs well and actually be down to put out NEW music.

Also I just wanna say that I’m glad that I saw BO back when they opened for spiritbox because it felt like actual music. The shows today seem over produced and it sounds like Noah is using auto tune. That’s just my personal opinion and I know I’ll get a lot of hate for that. I understand he’s been doing vocal lessons and everything, but I think if you really listen to him singing live anymore, you’ll agree he has a T-pain vibe in his vibratos.

Any thank you for coming to my shower talk 🤣

….

[concerthopperblog]

The Blackout Tour Pt 2 Featuring From Ashes To New, Point North, Ekoh, Phix & Elijah

Get ready to rock this spring! From Ashes To New is all set to hit the road for a thrilling North American tour, and they're bringing along some amazing artists to make the journey even more electrifying! With Point North providing direct support and Ekoh, Phix, and Elijah joining in, this tour is going to be epic! Earlier this year, the band's lead singer Danny Case hinted at the tour's excitement saying "Part 1 was so wildly successful that had to run it back with a new stacked lineup!" The tour kicks off on Tuesday, April 30 in Albany, New York, and runs through Thursday, June 13 in Lincoln, Nebraska. And as if that wasn't enough, From Ashes To New will also be performing at some of the biggest rock festivals in the country, including Inkcarceration, Rock Fest, and Upheaval Fest! So, mark your calendars and get ready to rock out with From Ashes To New! Upon arriving at the venue, you could see the line of fans slowly growing down the block as they were being let inside. Once inside, you could see the excitement on fans' faces as they eagerly waited in line to pick up their favorite tour merchandise.

Elijah is the opening performer for this event, he seems like a mysterious person. Despite my efforts to learn about him, little information is available. However, while listening to his music, Elijah’s single "Human," released in 2023, features singer Matty Mullins from Memphis May Fire. He released his first EP in 2023 titled Fighting Myself. The EP features his popular singles "EASY TO DROWN" and "Virus". These guys started the show with a bang. The lead singer, Elijah, immediately jumped off the stage and onto the barricades to sing directly into the faces of his beloved fans. The energy in the room was electric as the crowd was completely captivated by the band's raw and intense performance.

Phix is an independent rapper hailing from Lubbock, Texas. He taught himself how to mix and master music at a young age and has now amassed over 1 million followers on TikTok. Although he only has one official album, he has several singles available for streaming online. Recently, Phix released a new single titled "WAR," which has earned a spot on Sirius XM's Octane station. His music is influenced by artists such as G-Eazy and Logic, and he incorporates a sound that is similar to Bring Me The Horizon and Bad Omens. During Phix's setup, other photographers and I were curious whether one of the members was helping set up the drum kit or if they would perform. Well, he blew us away. Brox Sandoval amazed us with his performance because he's only 11 years old and played the drums better than most adults. Even though part way through Phix’s set, the microphone cut out and they stopped their performance, they were still able to entertain the crowd. Brox jumped on the drums and showed us what he's made of with a little drum solo.

Ekoh aka Jeff Thompson is a songwriter who can blend different genres of music to create a unique and captivating music experience. He brings a true passion for the art of hip-hop music, which is a rare quality these days. Ekoh has created a sound that appeals to many music listeners by blending hip-hop with alternative rock and other genres. Ekoh has released eight albums since 2013, including the latest, "MAYDAY." He has performed with acts such as Wu-Tang Clan, Kottonmouth Kings, Everlast, Tech N9ne, and many more. During Phix, Ekoh made an appearance which got me excited to see his performance afterward. Unfortunately, the sound also cut out during his set, but the venue quickly got everything back on track for Ekoh. Even before Ekoh stepped onto the stage, the fans were warning us to watch our heads because Ekoh signs Vans (shoes) at each show. At the end of his set, he closed out with “Reverse” and then asked his fans to gently throw their shoes up on stage so he could sign each one.

Point North is a rock band based in Los Angeles, California. They made their debut in 2018 and have since released three albums, with the latest one titled Prepare For Disaster. The band has collaborated with several guest artists, such as The Ghost Inside, and Kellin Quinn of Sleeping With Sirens & Set It Off, and they have also been featured on the song "Body Bag" by Fran Roz. During Point North’s performance, I wasn't familiar with them until they started playing "Into The Dark." This song has earned a spot on my "must-listen" playlist after I discovered it on my "recommended songs" playlist. I love the vibe of their music. While they were performing, they displayed great energy, jumping around on the stage. They are another band I will be on the lookout to see again.

From Ashes To New is a metal band from Lancaster, Pennsylvania. During the band’s early years, From Ashes To New's lineup frequently changed, but musician Matt Brandyberry remained the founding and sole constant member. They have achieved success with many of their singles, including "Through It All", "Crazy", and "Panic", which reached peaks of 6, 3, and 11, respectively, on the Billboard Mainstream Rock chart. Their latest album Blackout has produced successful singles such as “Nightmare,” & “Until We Break”. I remember meeting singer Danny Case when he was still a part of Vanity Strikes. He and another member of the band were walking down the line at Van's Warped Tour (I'm not sure which year), but they stopped to talk to my friends and me. When I learned that he would be joining From Ashes To New, I was excited to see where this would lead. It was finally time for From Ashes To New to take the stage. You could see the excitement on the members' faces, especially since Danny Case is a local to Rochester, NY. This show was close to selling out by 25 tickets, which makes a hometown show even better. Before the photographers could even get out of the pit, there were waves of crowd surfers flying over the barricades. The band played 16 songs throughout the night, with 2 of the songs, "Nightmare" featuring Ekoh and "Panic" featuring Elijah. From Ashes To New is a band I will be seeing again in the future.

This show was absolutely unforgettable! Each band was very personable. They met up with their fans at the merch booths after each of their respective sets. I hope you didn't miss out on this incredible experience. Be sure to stay updated with all the latest ConcertHopper news and events by following us on Instagram and Facebook. Keep on hopping!

[finalgirleddiemunson]

Don’t Mention It (Steve Harrington x Reader)

summary: some mornings are bad mornings, and they’re filled with memories. Steve and you work through them together. (wc 1.3k)

warnings: angst, past trauma mentions, non-sexual nudity

a/n: had a moment where i thought about how how everything that steve has gone through often gets played for laughs and got so upset i wrote this. it kinda reads more loose than a typical narrative structure, my b

masterlist

----

Steve showers in the morning. 

In high school, he used to shower at night. To wash the pool chlorine and layers of the day off of his skin. 

But then things went bump in the night too often, too frequently. You and him both know now that the darkness can hide something more than bad dreams or phantasmal shapes. 

Sometimes it’s difficult to fall asleep tucked into bed safe and sound. Much less be vulnerable and relaxed underneath the shower- where the stream of water hitting against the tile blocks the noise of something that could be creeping nearby.

So, yes. Steve showers in the morning now. You don’t mention it. 

Just like he doesn’t mention how you check the doors and windows twice every night, flipping locks back and forth that you know were already secured but you just had to be sure. One last time. 

He leans on the doorway to the kitchen of your shared apartment and watches you go through your routine every night though. He’s gotten used to reassuring you beneath the covers that Yes, baby, you locked the windows. I watched you do it, I promise. You can go to sleep. 

Just like he doesn’t mention how you keep his old bat placed under the bed, in the same way that old lovers place dried roses or sleeping satchels filled with herbs beneath pillows. An extra omen that helps you both sleep. 

It’s the sound of the water running that wakes you, as it does most mornings. 

The bathroom door is open, letting the steam from the shower spill out and into the bedroom, carrying with it that clean and cologne-like smell of Steve’s body wash. 

As you wake, scrubbing sleep from your eyes and wetting dry lips, you come into awareness slowly. There’s a distinct lack of humming coming from the bathroom this morning. 

Another thing you don’t mention- the sign of a storm that only you know how to navigate. 

On the good days, Steve sings. When you first got together, you imagined that Steve would sing off-tune and loudly, a joke played for laughs. Your years together have found you pleasantly wrong in that assumption. In the confines of your shared bathroom, Steve sings like he was always meant to do it- perfect pitch and everything. It only makes you slightly envious at times.

But, most of the time he hums. Little tunes, songs he’s heard on the radio, whatever is stuck in his head. He scrubs shampoo from his hair and hums the song that was playing over his car radio when he asked you to be his girlfriend, or the song you danced to in the kitchen last night, or some new rock song that Dustin showed him that Steve swears he hates. The point of the matter is, most of the time Steve hums. 

On the bad days, there’s silence. Music does not drift out with the steam from the shower, only quiet. 

The lack of music today fills your lungs, viscous and hefty in its meaning. 

You pad to the bathroom and make your steps purposefully heavy. I’m here, it’s just me. You make sure the hinges squeak as you push the door open unnecessarily wider. Don’t worry, don’t be scared. I’m not sneaking up on you, nothing is here. 

You run the water in the sink, brush your teeth and make a big show of it even though the curtain on the shower is still closed. You do this on the bad days. Hedge in closer, palms open, slow and steady. 

When you’ve drawn out your morning routine as long as you can is when you finally speak. “Good morning, honey.”

It takes a moment, but the quiet croak of Steve’s voice rings out above the running water, “Morning, sweetheart.”

You wait, give him the opportunity to say anything else before you take your next step. “Do you mind if I join you?” You keep your tone light, as though the idea just occurred to you. As though this isn’t, in itself, a part of the routine that both of you play. 

“Please,” Steve responds and the cracked relief in his voice spurs you into action. 

You don’t bother to gather your shed clothes and place them out of the way. You just pull them off and drop them onto the tile as quickly as you’re able. 

When you step into the temporary sauna that Steve has made with the scalding water, you’re met with the sight of his back. The tan expanse of skin, dotted with freckles and moles that you’ve traced over a thousand times, now with water cascading down the muscles. 

Your first touch is just your fingertips along his arm. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. 

And when his shoulders crumple in on themselves just a little at the touch, you’re quick to curl your hand around his bicep, turning him in place to face you. 

You tuck yourself into the space beneath his chin, let his wet hair rain droplets down onto the top of your head and your shoulders. His body shields you from the brunt of the shower, but you hope that between you and the heat of the water he can find something to ground him. You splay your hands wide against his back as you hug him closer. Come back to me. 

You don’t mention it when he shudders above you, takes in rasping breaths as he presses his face into the top of your head. You just let him cry, swaying gently on your feet to rock him. 

You don’t mention it when the water begins to run colder and colder- until the tears give way to chattering teeth and you take his hands to lead him out of the shower. You set him down and wrap a towel around his body. 

You don’t mention that daylight is streaming in through the windows of your bedroom, that the darkness can’t reach you two here with blue skies and sunshine at your door. You both know that would be a lie anyways. 

All you can do is hold him. You give him soft clothes, loungewear that he wears around the house, and he dresses himself in mechanical movements. You do your best to keep touching him throughout it all.

“It helps,” He had whispered to you one night when sleep evaded your household. “When I’m like that. Just knowing you’re there. It helps.”

You had kissed his collarbone, an acknowledgment of his bravery. “I wish it didn’t get like that,” he murmured into the darkness. 

“I know. But I’ll always be here, when it does. And I know that you’ll be there for me, when I get like that. ” 

He had rubbed a hand up and down your spine at your words, his own acknowledgement. Neither of you slept much that night. 

Now, even with the cheery, morning light coming through the curtains, you both crawl back beneath the covers. You plaster yourself against Steve, the length of your body fitted against his. You keep a hand against his chest, feel the steady thump of his heartbeat under your palm. 

Hear this thing? You want to scream to the sky, to the Upside Down, to every last thing that made him scared of the dark. It means that Steve Harrington is alive, despite it all. And you can’t take him from me. 

Instead you just hold him. 

Steve returns to his body slowly, pieces clicking into place until at last the grip he has around you tightens with awareness. His muscles uncoil, a recognition of his safety. 

“I love you,” He says.

“I love you more.”

You don’t mention that you already know his response-

“Not possible.”

[thejilyship]

Taking the Lead

For @jilychallenge August 2021 Theme: Summer Prompt: "I saw you staring and so decided to try to put on my suncream ~sensually~ but omg the lid just popped off and the whole bottle came out stOP grinning oMG" @thejilyship v @sirenicc I did not think I was going to get this done! Also it's fem!jily. No one should be surprised at this point.

WC: 3.5k AO3

A leadership camp was the absolute last place that Jamie wanted to spend any part of her summer. She and Sirius had made plans to go white water rafting, concert hoping, castle hiking, dive bar hunting and he’d even promised to attend a total of four sperate ballets with her. She did not have time to spend a week in the middle of the Scottish hills singing camp songs with a bunch of people that she didn’t know.

She didn’t need a leadership camp. She was, as almost every single one of her teachers and professors had said, a natural born leader. Some of her teachers had said this with admiration coloring their tone, and others had said it in a ‘your daughter really needs to stop getting the entire class to break into song in the middle of third period’ kind of way, but either way, they had all been in agreement.

She took the bus to camp so she would be less inclined to run off in the middle of it, and she went to the main building to sign in, which she was informed would be hence forth called ‘command center.’ She refrained from rolling her eyes.

She accepted her key and went off to find her dorm with her yellow duffle bag resting on her hip. Since they were all adults, they weren’t making them sleep in groups of twenty or so, and were instead grouped into fours. Jamie’s cabin was number five, which was her lucky number, and so far the only good omen she had gotten from this place.

She knocked before she pushed the cabin door open. Two of her three bunkmates were already there, setting up their beds. A redhead with striking green eyes and a petite brunette with springy hair and a gorgeous smattering of freckles. Jamie smiled at the two of them and they smiled back.

“Hey! My name is Lily,” The redhead held out her hand, bold and assertive. Jamie didn’t think she was in much need of a leadership camp either. “This here is my best friend, Mary.”

“Lily and Mary, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Jamie.” She pulled her duffle off her shoulder and claimed the open bottom bunk. “Are you best mates in the camp sense, or have you met before today?”

Mary laughed, “Best friends since we were eleven. I dragged Lily along to this camp because I’m incapable of leaving home without her.”

“And it sounded like fun!” Lily added, looking back at her curly haired friend. “Did you know that this camp has a ropes course?” She asked, turning back to Jamie.

“A rope course? And that sounds like fun to you?”

“Of course, it does!”

“Wait until we’re actually on the ropes course,” Mary chuckled, “Lily is afraid of heights.” She tilted her head toward Jamie and raised her brows.

“I’m not afraid of heights,” Lily argued. “I simply… do not… like them.”

“Right.” Mary laughed.

Rooming with best friends might not be the best case scenario, as they already had someone to pair off with for all the group activities they were bound to do over the next week. They had a fourth roommate yet, so Jamie would reserve her pessimistic judgment until then. In the meantime, Lily and Mary seemed like nice people who she could eat meals with if nothing else.

“There’s also a lake,” Lily apparently still found the need to explain why she thought this camp would be fun. “And the weather is supposed to be brilliant this week. Sunny and warm!”

“I’m here for the seminars and workshops, not for the lake.” Mary said.

“You can be here for both.” Lily shrugged. “And, as much as I love you, I’m here for the arts and crafts, camp food and fun activities.”

“Arts and crafts is an activity. And this is a camp for adults, do you really think-“

Lily cut Mary off with a scoff. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. “If you think I didn’t check before I agreed to come, then you have another thing coming, MacDonald.” She turned her phone out so it was facing Mary, and Jamie a bit. Jamie was able to see colorful pictures of string bracelets, painted pottery, and she couldn’t tell what else.

“Well then,” Mary shook her head. “I hope you get to live out your summer camp dreams.”

“Thank you.” Lily nodded, looking rather smug. It was a look that worked for Lily. Her cheeks took on a dusting of pink, her green eyes grew brighter, and she sat up taller. Jamie turned to her duffle to avoid being caught ogling.

There was a knock on the door and the three girls turned in unison.

“Hello, I’m Emma Vanity. I guess I’m your fourth.” She gave a sharp wave and then looked at the three taken beds before her eyes fell onto the unclaimed top bunk above Jamie.

“I’m Mary and this is Lily,” Mary pointed at Lily, who offered a bright smile.

“And I’m Jamie Potter.”

“Potter?” Emma’s brow shot up. “As in Potions by Potter? Are your parents Fleamont and Euphemia Potter?”

“It’s a fairly common last name,” Jamie shrugged. She wouldn’t have added her last name if she had thought someone would recognize it.

“Right,” Emma laughed and dropped her bag to the ground. “Well, either way, I’m sure that you are a greatperson to share a bunk with.” She knew who Jamie was, that was clear.

“Mary’s mother was a circus performer if that interests anyone.” Lily had pulled out a bag of jelly candies and tore one in half with her front teeth. Jamie smiled at her appreciatively.

“Does she still perform?”

“No, she retired when I started school.” Mary said. “But she does teach trapeze classes down at the local leisure center.”

“They’re great fun.” Lily nodded. “Should we go and find ourselves some lunch?”

“I hope you know that they aren’t going to serve bad camp food.” Mary pushed herself off Lily’s bed. “Are you two coming with us?”

Emma looked at Jamie, and since Jamie had no desire to be alone with Emma just then, she smiled at Lily and nodded. “Sure. I’m always ready to eat.”

“I’ll come too,” Emma nodded. “I’ve already memorized the layout of the camp, so you can all follow me.” And then she was walking back toward the door.

Lily, who had just proven herself to be very familiar with the camp, was looking at Emma’s retreating figure with raised brows, but she didn’t say anything and just hopped off her bed.

“Off we go then,” Mary bit her bottom lip and followed Lily. Jamie closed the door behind them.

The sun was out, and it was warm, which Jamie hadn’t fully appreciated before Lily had told her that they could expect this weather to last all week. And she hadn’t known there was a lake. That hadn’t been on her list of fun summer activities she wanted to do with Sirius, but she hadn’t been a beach in a while, and while she was sure the beach on this random camp lake wasn’t brilliant, it would be nice.

Especially if Lily was also there to talk it up.

oOo

Jamie gravitated toward Lily over the next couple of days. At first she thought it was because the other girl’s positive attitude was contagious, and while it was, that wasn’t the sole reason.

Jamie had developed a little bit of a crush.

Except not really, because Jamie had never once developed a ‘little’ crush in her life. It took exactly one day for her to realize that she was already deciding how the two of them would find time for each other after they left camp. Two days in and she had decided that their first pet would be a short haired cat named Mr. Tums, preferable all black.

Three days in and she was almost certain that she was in love.

Not in love in love, she understood that was ridiculous.

No, on day three, she was simply falling in love.

It would be a few more days until she was actually in love.

Lily had her shoulder length hair in twin braids today. Whisps of baby hairs framing her face and she kept reaching up to brush them away from her eyes, which only drew more attention to her eyes and her hair and all the other parts of her face that Jamie couldn’t stop staring at.

And at the moment, she was wearing a bloody bikini as she sat on the towel next to Jamie’s on the small beach the camp had to offer. A bikini.

Jamie was doing everything she could to ignore the bikini, but it was there, and showing off every soft curve and gentle swoop of Lily Evans’ body. Jamie was in a t-shirt and boardshorts, because she couldn’t possibly exist in the space next to Lily Evans wearing anything less than this and keep the ability to speak.

Not that her ability to speak was getting her far. Lily was doing most of the talking.

“What do you think?” Lily reached out and nudged Jamie on the shoulder, her bubblegum pink nails scraping lightly on the sleeve of Jamie’s t-shirt.

The quirk in Lily’s brow let Jamie know that she had missed something. Keeping her clothes on may have left her with the ability to speak, but Lily wearing that bikini had hindered her ability to listen. She’d been so focused on not staring at Lily that she hadn’t remembered to pay attention to what she was saying.

“What do I think about what again?” Jamie asked, not bothering to pretend that she had heard Lily. The knowing smile on Lily’s face should have made Jamie a bit self-conscious, but she liked how smug Lily looked knowing the effect she had on Jamie. She also wanted Lily to know that she liked her, especially since Lily had not acted as though knowing made her even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“I was asking for your opinion one what we should do this evening. I want to watch the sunset over the lake, but I don’t think I can stay down here until then. I’ll fry. So should we go to the craft cabin and make some more bracelets,” She held up her rope bracelet covered wrist and shook it, “Or should we have an early dinner?”

“Don’t we have a class to go to before dinner?” Jamie asked, looking out at the water after briefly glancing in Lily’s direction.

“I didn’t sign up for anything. Did you?”

“Probably not.” Jamie shrugged. “Mary isn’t upset with you for ditching her?”

Lily snorted. “I’m hardly ditching her. Besides, she knew I wasn’t going to be signing up for anything that wasn’t required. I came for the crafts and the beach. And to share a bunk with her.” She was smiling at Jamie, she could feel it aimed at the side of her head.

“Alright, well then, I think we should stay down here for a while longer and then go and get some dinner. I didn’t really enjoy the bracelet making.”

“You’re just upset that I’m better at it than you.”

“No.” Jamie shook her head. “I can honestly say that I’m not upset because you’re better than me. I’m upset because I can not figure out how to do it at all. All five attempts turned into a tangled knot of colorful string and heartbreak.”

“You picked out great colors,” Lily had her lips pressed together when Jamie mustered up the fortitude needed to face her. She used all the strength she had to keep her gaze on Lily’s face and then let out a huff and laid back on her towel.

“Thanks a million.”

“Of course.” She reached out and patted the back of Jamie’s hand, her bubblegum pink nails drawing Jamie’s eye. “If we’re going to stay for a while more, I should put on more sunscreen.”

Jamie reached for the bag on her right and handed it to Lily and then shut her eyes. She couldn’t watch Lily put on sunscreen. She knew that she wouldn’t handle that well. Especially not when Lily seemed to be in a mind to tease the shit out of Jamie. Which Jamie knew she deserved after the entirely unsubtle way she had told Lily and Mary about her ex-girlfriend. She had blushed immediately after saying it and then muttered about needing a restroom.

Lily hadn’t brought up any exes at all, but she had followed Jamie on Instagram the first night, and it didn’t take a whole lot of work to figure out that Lily also represented a letter or two from the alphabet.

Jamie bit down on the tip of her tongue and wondered how long she would need to keep her eyes closed before it would be safe to open them.

She heard the cap of the sunscreen pop open and started counting, figuring three minutes to be ample time. She took the time to take a few deep breaths, have a few imaginary conversations with Sirius where he called her a dumbass, whacked her over the head and told her to make her move, and then tried to clear her head of any and all nonsense.

“Where do you head back to after this week?” Lily asked, and Jamie almost opened her eyes.

“Winchester. My brother and I are staying with our parents for the summer, and we have a lot of plans. This camp actually threw a bit of a wrench in our plans, but da wanted me to come here.”

“He didn’t want your brother to come?”

Jamie snorted. “Can you imagine? I mean, da did ask him if he wanted to, but Sirius is very… anti-group activities.”

“What plans were ruined?” Jamie turned her head and opened her eyes, figuring the sun screening was done with now.

It was not.

Lily was rubbing it into her shoulders, her hands moving slowly and her nails contrasting sharply with the pale tone of her skin.

Jamie’s mouth went dry and she tried to swallow.

Lily’s brow went up and Jamie cleared her throat. “Ballet.”

“What?”

“The ballet. I got Sirius to agree to go to a few different shows with me, which he never does, and I’m missing one of them to be here.”

The tip of Lily’s pink tongue peeked out from between her lips and Jamie bit down on her own tongue. What was it about this girl that had Jamie acting like a randy, seventeen-year-old, boy?

“The ballet? I didn’t picture you-“

“I’m actually a ballerina.”

Lily blinked her big green eyes and brought her shoulder up to her chin.

“I mean, I saw the pictures of you with your dance bag, but I guess I just…” Jamie hadn’t posted any recent pics of her in anything dance related, and so she smirked at the knowledge that Lily had been snooping.

“You didn’t picture me as a ballerina? What kind of dancer did you think I was?”

“Honestly? I thought you were a theater dancer.”

Jamie chuckled. “I mean, I have dabbled in the theater.”

“Dabbled? I think it’s you use of words like ‘dabbled’ that made me think theater actually.”

“Dabbled is a normal word.”

“Sure, and it made me think ‘theater kid.’” Lily turned back to the bottle of sunscreen and picked it up, squeezing some onto her hand before she angled one of her legs and started rubbing her hands together. The point of her toe, the angle of her head, it was all deliberate. Jamie knew that it was all deliberate, but she didn’t care. She watched on bated breath as Lily started working the sunscreen into her leg. She started at her upper thigh and worked her way down to the ankle, slowly, making sure to cover every inch of skin.

“How long have you been a ballerina?”

Jamie had to unclench her jaw to answer. “Since I was about five.”

“And when did you dabble in the theater?” Lily’s voice was even and normal, like she wasn’t currently putting on a show for Jamie. She should have kept her eyes shut. She should close her eyes right now, but she knew that she wasn’t going to.

“Um… I think the first musical I was in, I was eight? Mum was helping out with…” She trailed off as Lily angled her other leg and started on that thigh. “Mum was helping with costumes. It was just a small local production.”

“Of what?”

“Fiddler on the Roof.” Jamie hoped that she was answering Lily’s questions, but she really wasn’t paying attention to what either of them were saying. For the first time since she’d seen Lily in this stupid bikini, she was allowing herself to look at her. She was drinking it in.

Jamie was pretty sure that Lily said something else, and half of her brain heard it, though it took a while to get it all pieced together. “I’ve seen Fiddler on the Roof. Mary was a theater kid, so I’ve actually seen a lot of musicals.”

“Good.” Jamie nodded, even though she knew that wasn’t really a top notch response.

Lily picked up the bottle of sunscreen and popped the cap open again, and Jamie could feel the pop in the back of her teeth. She watched Lily tighten her hand around the bottle, squeezing more onto her open palm.

“I might need your help with my back-“

About two seconds before Jamie would have had a heart attack and passed away right there on the small camp beach in the middle of nowhere, the top of the bottle came off and, with Lily still squeezing the bottle, the sunscreen went everywhere. It splattered all over Lily’s lap, chest and towel. It got on Jamie too, a large glob landing on the lens of her glasses.

They both froze for a minute before Jamie looked up at Lily from her one clear lens. Lily’s cheeks were bright red and she was looking at the still dripping bottle as though it had purposefully ruined her plans to send Jamie to an early grave.

The building tension crumbled like a saltine cracker.

“That’s what you get,” Jamie said, reaching over and wiping a large glob off of Lily’s nose. Then she started laughing as Lily turned to look at her. Her cheeks stayed red, but she cracked a grin. “That was totally deserved!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lily shook her head and dropped the offending bottle. She started smearing and wiping at all the excess sunscreen, wiping her hands on her towel to get it off. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Jamie started laughing harder. “You’re a liar.”

Lily bit down on her bottom lip, still shaking her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You most certainly do know what I mean, and now you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

“The cap broke! I don’t know why you’re telling me I deserve it.”

Jamie reached over and swiped at another glob at Lily’s shoulder. “Sure, Evans.” She whipped her hand so it landed somewhere in the grass and then got another glob from Lily’s hair. “So that’s just how you normally put on sunscreen?”

“Of course it is.”

“I can’t wait to see how your normally put on your pajamas tonight.”

Lily’s face went a shade or two darker and Jamie laughed again.

“You know what, if I was putting it on… a certain sort of way, it was only because you were looking at me-“

“I hadn’t been looking at you!” Jamie took her glasses off and carefully went about cleaning them. “I had very deliberately not been looking at you. You waited until I was looking at you.”

Lily was quiet until Jamie looked over at her, having to squint in order to see the look on her face. She put her glasses back on to confirm that she was looking smug. She was. “Okay, but then you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase, in for a penny, in for a pound?”

Lily narrowed her brow in confusion. “I have.”

“I’ve only ever had fancied three people in my life, including yourself,” Lily sat up straighter and Jamie felt her cheeks heat but shook her head. Lily had already known that Jamie fancied her. “Yes, go and head a preen over it.”

“I am flattered,” Lily, still covered in globs of sunscreen, waved her hair back over her shoulder with one of her hands. Then she looked at Jamie expectantly.

Jamie sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and released it all at once. “Where do you live, Evans? And how far is it from Winchester?”

“And why do you ask?”

“Because I’ve a feeling that we’ll have some unfinished business come Friday.”

And then Lily laughed, and Jamie felt it all the way to the tips of her toes.

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - Taking the Cake (Rated G)

Summary: When Aziraphale decides to host Warlock and Adam's 12th birthday down at his shop, he tells Crowley they'll be doing it without magic. That's all well and good until Crowley is called upon to finish decorating the cake... (1551 words)

Read on AO3.

“Ho there! Mmph... angel? Ngk... ” Crowley grunts, stuffing himself through one door of Aziraphale’s bookshop, the other holding stubbornly to its frame. He barely makes it through, lugging copious bags bulging with party gear, his long fingers curled around handles strained thin by the weight.

"In here, dear," Aziraphale replies, giving no indication that he's coming to help. Crowley picks an aisle and starts walking, navigating the narrow expanse between late 18th century classics and Roman philosophy. 

“I got everything on your list," Crowley says when he spots his husband. "Goodie bags, balloons, streamers, poppers… “ He pauses inventorying when he comes up behind Aziraphale, deeply engaged in the creation of a buttercream rosette.

By hand, no less. 

Aziraphale insisted they throw together this entire party like natives, and that meant no magic whatsoever. Crowley couldn’t understand why. Miracling together a party is literally a snap. They'd done it hundreds of times over the years. It's how they hosted their wedding. 

With a snap.

That did, however, create a mountain of paperwork, which led to Gabriel and his henchmen finding out about their shindig and showing up uninvited. Surprisingly, they didn't cause much in the way of trouble. They snickered a little, made a few snide remarks, but they mostly spent their time "observing" from a table in a far corner, mingling with no one as if above it all. 

Crowley tensed when they arrived, but having a few party crashers didn't go too badly... until the karaoke began. 

“Is that the cake then?”

“Yes. I’m almost done.“ Aziraphale pinches his tongue between his teeth, steadying his hand as he adds a peony this time.

"It's gorgeous," Crowley says in awe. "Truly stunning."

"Thank you, my dear," Aziraphale says, glowing from his husband's praise.

"But... " 

Aziraphale's shoulders instantly go rigid. 

Crowley hates to do this to him. The cake really is a masterpiece of confectionary construction. But it needs to be said. "Warlock and Adam are turning twelve."

"And... ?" 

"Don't you think they might appreciate something a bit more... I don't know.... befitting of a pair of former antichrists? Like a zombie with bleeding eyes? Or a raven with sharp, pointy teeth?"

Aziraphale glares over his shoulder at Crowley as if insanity has finally set in. "Ravens don't have teeth!"

"I know! That's why it would be terrifying! Right up their alleys!"

Aziraphale shakes his head, going back to his peonies. "This is a birthday cake! Not a Halloween cake! Besides, I only know how to make flowers. Anything else would require magic, and you know how I feel about that. Besides, I'm certain they only care about the insides anyway, and it's crammed full of chocolate. I don't think they'll mind a crocus or two."

"Fair enough," Crowley concedes.

The clock in the corner chimes, and Aziraphale sighs. He looks over at it, then double-checks the time on his pocket watch. Crowley checks the time on his watch, too, although he doesn't know what for.

"Three o'clock," Aziraphale observes. "Damn."

"Wot's wrong?"

"I’m afraid I’m running a bit behind.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Crowley asks, piling his sacks on a nearby chair.

“As a matter of fact, I have to pop out for a few," Aziraphale says, handing Crowley the piping bag, "but this cake needs one final touch.”

“And that is?” Crowley holds the bag between his fingers the way he would a dead rat, wary that he might be called upon to construct the same delicate flowers Aziraphale has. Without his magic, Crowley doesn't have anything near Aziraphale's talent with icing. 

Warlock and Adam may just get a gruesome cake after all.  

“I just need it to say 'Happy Birthday Warlock and Adam'.” Aziraphale bustles about, grabbing his coat off the tree and throwing it on. “The handwriting doesn't need to be immaculate, just legible. Could you do that for me?”

“Pfft. No problem," Crowley says, secretly perceiving a problem. "Piece of… “ 

Aziraphale stops on his way out the door to give his husband an exasperated look. Crowley snickers. 

“Well, you know,” Crowley finishes, shooing Aziraphale out the door. "Ta-ta now. Mind how you go."

***

"Damned antique dealers and their damned negotiations! Ignorant bast---" Aziraphale stops short of cursing. It doesn't matter what happened, which was extremely upsetting. There is no need for bad language. He hurries down the crowded sidewalk, going over the details of the past hour-and-thirty in his head. "I was doing them a favor, and look how I'm repaid! I'm late to the party I'm hosting! There's a fine how-do-you-do! Ungrateful humans! See if I stop another Apocalypse for you, in your tacky grey suits and your cheap pointy shoes... "

Aziraphale stomps up to his door, keys in hand, but stops outside when he hears laughter on the other side. He peeks through the dusty glass, and his shoulders sag. 

The party is for the kids. He knows. But he was so looking forward to celebrating with everyone from start to finish. That and he didn't think he'd take this long, so he neglected to relocate his first editions somewhere secure. 

He fears for their safety.

Icing is notoriously difficult to get out of parchment and ligament, even through the use of miracles.

He should have never taken that stupid meeting to begin with. He had a feeling it wouldn't pan out.

Oh well. 

No need wasting any more time on that than already has, he thinks, bucking up and unlocking the door. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start celebrating while I still have the chance...

Aziraphale takes a step in, ready to announce his arrival, but stops dead when he hears jazzy scatting in a sonorous voice. 

A voice that doesn’t belong to anyone he knows.

Aziraphale walks in further, scanning those gathered, and makes a minor correction to his original assessment - doesn’t belong to any human that he knows. His eyes blow wide, his cheeks burn red, and his husband's name explodes off his tongue before he even opens his mouth.

"Anthony J. Crowley-Fell!"

Aziraphale doesn't say anything other than his name and Crowley starts apologizing. "I'm sorry, angel!" he says, running across the shop to greet him, but not looking the least bit sorry. 

"I gave you one task!" Aziraphale bellows, snapping his fingers and slamming the door shut, his no-magic edict flying out the window. "Just one little thing! And you couldn't do it!"

"I'm no good at writing!" Crowley defends with the shadows of an infuriating grin on his face. "My hand gets all wobbly! I didn't want to risk ruining any of your lovely flowers!"

Aziraphale, splotchy-faced and buggy-eyed, glowers. "You couldn't write a simple Happy Birthday, so you enchanted the entire cake!? That was your brilliant plan!?"

"I'm a demon! Of course, that was my plan!"

"Crowley!"

"They showed up right after you left! I had no time! I panicked!"

Aziraphale drops his head into his hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. Crowley reaches out to put a comforting hand on his husband's shoulder until he hears him counting backward from one hundred... in Akkadian. Then he creeps his hand to his side and quietly steps off. 

Aziraphale breathes in deep through his nose and out through his mouth, struggling to ground himself. He has no one to blame but himself. That's the painful part. In the back of his mind, he knew something like this might happen. 

He's impressed it isn't worse. 

He should have never left his husband alone.

Next time, he'll hire a sitter.

Aziraphale continues counting, continues breathing, and as he does, he pays more attention to the goings-on around him.

The cake singing is quite unsettling, but the children are gleeful, the adults joyful. Joking, teasing, and enthusiastic conversation fill the spaces in between. 

Much like their wedding reception, except there isn't an archangel in sight. 

And Crowley's magic was instrumental in making that day memorable.

Maybe Aziraphale overreacted with that 'no magic' rule. Crowley's face fell when Aziraphale told him they'd be hosting the boys' birthday at his bookshop sans magic, but he'd recovered quickly. The streamers and balloons Crowley managed to toss on the walls look plenty festive, but they don't compare to what could have been had Aziraphale allowed Crowley to tap into his imagination.

Their guests are having a grand time despite the modest decor, but it could have been so much more. They are an angel and a demon! Between the pair of them, they could have whipped up a true spectacle, if for no other reason than they still owe poor Warlock after last year's fiasco. 

What would have been the harm of calling upon a little divine intervention? 

An alarming thought pops into Aziraphale's brain, and his head snaps up. “They’re going to cut into that, you know. Is that when the enchantment ends?”

“Nope.” Crowley rubs his palms together. “That’s when the fun begins.”

"Uh... "Aziraphale's jaw drops. "Good Lord," he moans, Crowley cackling when Adam runs to fetch the cake cutter. Aziraphale's mind whirls with thoughts of what fun could imply, but there's no time to ask. While Crowley starts laying a drop cloth, Aziraphale puts his coat away and relocates his favorite books into his back room for safekeeping.

[massivelycreepypineapple]

Love Of My Life

Request: Crowley and reader dancing "queen love of my life" or it can be a scenario in which they fight and the two hear this song or "freddy mercury and montserrat caballe how can i go on"

Pairing: (Good Omens) Crowley x Fem!Reader

Song: Love of my life by Queen

A/N: This is my first song fic. Not really sure if it came out good. I’m really sorry if it’s bad! I’m also sorry this took so long to get out. I’ve been so swamped with work. 

❅ ❅ ❅

Y/N was livid. She couldn’t believe he forgot about their date again. This was the third time in a row and she was getting sick and tired of his excuses. 

“It’s hell and heaven related, Y/N!” Crowley had snapped at her when she asked him where he kept running off to, after the second time he forgot. “Some things are more important than a damn date night.” He then stormed off. Again. Of course to Aziraphale’s place.

She understood that being a mere human she wouldn’t take priority over celestial things. But the third time he forgot had done it for Y/N. There had to be a limit for her patience and she found it. 

He was supposed to pick her up from her place. She had waited for him two hours past the agreed upon time and she had had enough. She changed her clothes into something comfortable and decided to heat up some take out. Just as she was about to put it in the microwave, the door burst open and Crowley stumbled into her apartment. Drunk. 

Y/N rushed into the living room, and saw him lean against the wall. His eyes lit up after they landed on her. He pushed himself off and walked towards, going in to hug her. But Y/N pushed him away, glaring daggers at him. 

“No!” She shouted, “You can’t just come in here, reeking of alcohol and pretend like everything is fine, Crowley!”

“Love-“

“Shut up! Just shut up! I understand there are more important things than me going on, with Armageddon just ending and everything. I really do, believe me. But there’s a limit for everyone and I have just about reached mine!”

Crowley sobered up at her outburst. He didn’t expect to be yelled at. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He was doing everything in his power to keep her safe. After Armageddon, hell and heaven were pissed off at him and Aziraphale. He had to make sure that they didn’t find Y/N. He’d die before letting anything happen to her. And yet somehow here she was yelling at him. 

Y/N continued with her rage filled monologue, “Maybe it’s the fact that I'm bloody human and you’d rather stick to your celestial friend here. Someone who gets you better. It’s not fair that you leave me behind every time!”

“Leave you behind?! Sweetheart, you have no idea what is going on out there! You have no idea the kind of danger you’re in!” He yelled back, clearly triggered by her. 

“Then why won’t you tell me!? Why do you keep sneaking off early in the morning to god knows where?!” 

“It’s not something you’ll understand! You’re just human! And right now, I’d really appreciate it if you could stop your human needs, and let me do my job!” 

Y/N didn’t realise just how close he had gotten to her. Crowley was a demon from hell. A fact that she sometimes forgot considering how wonderfully nice he was to her. But right now, he took his glasses off and his snake eyes bore into hers, anger evident in them. He never looked so intimidating than at that moment. For the first time since they met, he scared her. 

What he said went through her like a shock. He basically just reduced her to just some human being. No longer his Y/N, which he so often claimed. She teared up at that. 

“Leave.” She whispered. 

“Gladly.” He replied with a snarl.

Crowley was a demon, and once a demon was angry, it was hard for them to let go. He didn’t think about what he had said to her and simply turned around and left, slamming the door.

Y/N had never felt so heartbroken before in her life. Because no one else held her heart like he did. She wiped her tears and went to finish her dinner. She wasn’t going to let Crowley get to her. It was her decision for him to leave and he happily went with it. There was nothing left to say or do about it.

She finished eating and went to the living room to watch some telly. She needed a distraction but she wasn’t really paying attention, her mind constantly going back to the fight. She was starting to regret asking him to leave. She should’ve talked it out with him. But then again his temper didn’t allow for reasonable conversation. 

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the head rest. She didn’t realise she stopped at a music channel, until suddenly a song began playing. She quickly recognised it as Queen, Crowley’s favourite band. 

Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart and now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back 

Don't take it away from me, because you don't know

What it means to me

“Fuck” Y/N whispered. Of all the songs to play, this just had to be the one. The universe really was out to get her, wasn’t it?

She got up from the couch and walked behind it, placing her hands on the headrest. She watched the video on the screen, letting the words wash over her. Where had it all gone wrong? Maybe this was doomed to fail since day one. 

Love of my life, don't leave me

You've taken my love, you now desert me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me

Y/N didn’t hear her door open and close. It took her by surprise when she felt arms wrap around her from behind. She knew then who it was and she felt relief and pain all at once, overwhelming her to the brink. 

Crowley turned her around and cupped her cheek with one hand as the other remained wrapped around her waist. He pecked her lips and looked into her eyes. She noticed that his glasses were missing as she looked into his beautiful yellow eyes and she fell in love all over again even if it hurt to do so. 

He pulled her away from the couch and began swaying with her to the music, singing softly with it.

You will remember

When this is blown over

Everything's all by the way

When I grow older

I will be there at your side to remind you

How I still love you 

“I still love you” Y/N whispered to him, as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He rested his forehead against hers still dancing to the music. All she wanted was him at her side. That’s all she ever asked for and maybe that was asking too much. 

As if Crowley could hear her thoughts, he said, “I’m so sorry, my love. I was such an arse to you.” 

Y/N was sniffling. She didn’t know what to say but at the same time she had so much she wanted him to know. She rested her head on his shoulder crying softly at his apology. The music washed over them, conveying more than they ever could. 

Oh, hurry back, hurry back

Don't take it away from me

You don't know what it means to me

Love of my life

Love of my life

As the song ended, they pulled away looking into each other’s eyes. Crowley was the first to break the silence, “I love you so much, it scares me, Y/N. I can’t lose you.”

“You being away for so long doesn’t prove that you don’t want to lose me.” She said, voice breaking.

“I know”, He whispered with shame. “Heaven and hell, they’re angry, Y/N. If they find out about you, they’ll hurt you just to make me suffer.”

“Is that why you’ve been disappearing so much?”

“Yes, Aziraphale and I have been trying to think of a way to keep you safe. I never wanted to hurt you, honey.”

“I should stop being so human, huh?” Y/N chuckled as a tear slipped from her eye. Crowley wiped it away with his thumb.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m so so sorry I said that. I was pissed that you weren’t listening to me. And I just took it out on you.”

“It’s ok” Y/N whispered looking down. 

Crowley lifted her chin up making her look at him, “It’s not okay I said that. Your humanity is one of the things that made me fall in love with you so deeply.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“I regretting leaving the second I walked out the door. I went over to Aziraphale’s and he made me realise that I would lose you either way if I didn’t show you how much I cared about you.”

“He’s a smart guy.” Y/N said with a small smile, making him chuckle. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll be unbearable.” 

Y/N giggled at that. “I’m glad you came back. I regretted asking you to leave.”

Crowley hugged her tightly, resting her head on his chest. Protecting her from unseen danger that he suspected was right around the corner. 

“What now?” Y/N asked.

“We find a way to keep you safe and we never let anything like this happen again.”

“I like the sound of that.”  

[the-green-maiden]

Supernatural Fair Fight Livestream Recap with timestamps

(based off of the notes I took while watching live. any errors are mine and not the fault of the cast or abrams)

21:01 Panel Starts. Misha introduces panel- Stacey Abrams, Jensen Ackles, Jared Padelecki, Erik Kripke, Berto the ASL interpreter.

21:02 Stacey Abrams talks about how she got into SPN. Talks about running for governor(?) in California(?), having trouble gathering support/campaign funds. On a particularly bad day, ends up watching SPN in her hotel room. Loves it, ends up watching the whole show after this. Quotes “Even if it’s hard we can’t stop” and “who else is going to do this” and talks about keeping going.

21:05 Kripke: “Wow”

Ackles: “That’s one of the most beautiful interpretations of what we do, how we tell the story.”

21:06 Kripke: “Grateful we could provide inspiration” 

21:07 JarPad: *reiterates above* joke about how “Kripke’s writing is questionable at best.”

21:08 Misha: “The reason we tell stories is to inspire people” creates an allegory about the ‘invisible enemy’ of voter suppression with the invisible enemy trope common in storytelling. “As we made the show, we were taking inspiration from [Abrams]”

21:09 Kripke asks Abrams to tell more about Fair Fight

21:09 Abrams talks about a secretary of state(?) [whose name I didn’t catch but who JPad refers to as ‘Lucifer”] who was in charge of voter registries in Georgia who wrongfully removed thousands of voters from lists, closed essential polling locations, and prevented people from voting, which disproportionately impacted POC and youth voters, and led to 8+ hour wait times in remaining locations. Abrams tells of how her and FF acted to fix this and change the whole system for the better. “If this becomes about politicians, no one is going to care, but when it becomes about people’s [list of basic rights and essential services]...” “...Patriotic belief that democracy means that if you’re eligible to vote, you get to be heard. Fair Fight is committed to ensuring that every voter in the US has the right to vote, and we are pretty good at it.”

21:16 Misha voices concerns about Trump’s attempts to make the 2020 vote counts seem unreliable.

21:17 Abrams gives an in-depth history of voter suppression in the US, committed by both parties at various times, including restrictions on mail-in votes, ID laws, and something about the voting rights act.

21:18 A bunch more panelists join in, including Jake Abel, Felicia Day, and a number of other SPN cast members.

21:19 Abrams says that in Texas a gun license is a valid id to vote, but a college id is not. “Everyone should get to participate, not just the chosen.” Mentions that she has not seen the final 3 episodes yet, request no spoilers until she logs out.

21:22 Kripke thanks Abrams for her political work.

21:22 Felicia Day says she was very excited to meet Abrams at Dragon Con.

21:33 Misha and Kripke try to move panel along to comply with Abrams limited time availability.

21:24 Rachel Miner “We all admire you [Abrams], you’re our hero.”

21:25 JPad gives a long speech thanking Abrams that was too fast to write down verbatim. “It’s important that everyone have their own voice” says it’s an honor to meet Abrams.

21:26 Bob Singer asks a question about Purdue(?) not showing up to a debate.

21:27 Abrams gives a detailed answer about swing states, swing voters, the lack of swing voters in Georgia, and the relatively small impact that Purdue(?) missing a debate would have on his numbers. Long speech about mail-in voting.

21:29 Sebastian Roche asks a question about run-off votes. Abrams answers.

21:30 Rachel Miner asks a question about voter registration descrimination against people w foreign names.

21:31 Abrams talks about how this has happened and what Fair Fight is doing to combat it, and how Fair Fight’s legal actions have managed to significantly reduce the amount of mail-in ballots thrown out for having difficult to understand names on them.

21:33 Shoshanna Stern thanks Abrams for her efforts in making voting more disability accessible.

21:34 Abrams answers, gives more info on the subject and the importance of having accessible voting locations.

21:36 Jim Beaver says it’s wonderful to be able to talk to Abrams, etc.

21:37 Abrams realizes her time has just about run out, and says thank yous and good byes. Mentions that tomorrow is her birthday. Multiple members of the cast wish her a happy birthday. More goodbyes from everyone, and thank yous to and from Abrams. Abrams exits call.

21:39 Kripke and Misha encourage people to donate to FF

21:41 Misha and Jensen rib each other, joke about an open bar.

21:41 Misha “Now we’re just going to waste your time for half an hour now that she’s gone”

21:42 Curtis Armstrong tells a short story about his mother, who was a voter activist in Detroit and Switzerland, and how nice it was to see Abrams talk.

21:43 Trivia intro. Multiple jokes made at the same time about state capitals.

21:44 Jim Beaver “When my kid was 7, I asked her the capital of Vermont and she said V”

21:44 Kripke asks semi-serious question about what JPad wore as protection in the ball-crusher Japanese game show scene in Changing Channels.

21:45 JPad “A thimble. A mini-thimble. No, a cup.” says something else about the cup.

21:46 Ackles “Our special effects team likes to go above and beyond”

21:46 JPad comments about real fear in that scene

21:46 Misha tries to get trivia back on track. “Without powers, what does Dean say Cas is?”

------[Baby in a trenchcoat]

“Other name of the Impala?”

Julie McNiven guesses “A special place”. Someone calls out “baby”

-----[Metallicar]

“Name of Sam and Jess’s friend who goes with them to the bar in the pilot?”

Even JPad, who was in the scene, does not know. Kripke comments that it was named after an irl friend of his from Tiuanna, named LUIS.

“5 works Kripke ripped off for SPN?”

Everyone guessing at once, including: Animal House, On The Road, Good Omens, Constantine, Star Wars, and several others.

“What herpes medication does Sam have to do a commercial for?”

[Herpexia]

21:52 JPad and Julie rib each other about herpes meds, and argue whether the term is prescription or subscription for medication. One of them brings up the example of having a subscription to dog food.

21:52 Jake Abel “What if your dog has herpes?”

Misha “I only hope that Stacey Abrams has tuned in”

Seb makes another joke about state capitals, then asks JPad the capital of Albania.

Jared has no idea, guesses ‘new albania’

Seb “Tirana” talks about having lived on a boat, presumably near Albania.

Rob Benedict: “Thanks for tuning in”

Bob Singer asks who knows the story of Seb getting a massage at VAncouver airport.

Jared (paraphrased) “We all fly through Vancouver airport a lot. Just past security there’s a massage place [with the chairs where you face the floor].” One day JPad and Ackles went through security and saw Seb getting a massage. They go over, convince the masseuse [who knows them all at this point] to let JPad take over. Seb does not notice, despite the fact that the masseuse is a small woman and JPad is holding his hands weird to try to make them smaller. JPad says he put his hands down Seb’s back and up his shirt, and Seb still did not notice, just making a noise and saying ‘very nice’. JPad gets as far as groping Seb’s ass before Seb notices anything is up. This is still the middle of a busy airport.

21:58 Seb “It was strangely sensual. Thank you, Robert, for bringing that up.” “I was perturbed for the whole flight back.”

Ackles “Another highbrow story”

Seb “It’s really fun being on that set. It really is” Claims they are also serious sometimes, to which there is laughter in response.

Ackles “It going to be like that on The Boys, Krip?”

Kripke “No massages to completion”

Seb “Wait there was no completion”

Krip “Saw photos of [Ackles’s] supersuit today”

Multiple jokes from several people about Ackle costume for The Boys being assless, crotchless, entirely made of paint, and cowboy-themed.

22:01 Misha “time for about 5 minutes of outtakes”

Someone jokes about adding ‘give Seb a massage’ as a donation tier.

Misha thanks the fans, says he loves and misses all the cast. Asks Rob B to sing.

22:02 Rob B “tune into my radio show” [for singing]

22:03 Misha announced that $225,000 has been raised for charity so far in the stream.

More thank yous from everyone to everyone, including the zoom team.

22:04 Seb “Vote out Mitch McConnel:

Jensen “Such as British accent to tell us who to vote for”

Seb “I’m half French half Scottish”

Jensen and Seb joke about scottish and french alcohols, and how they can’t be mixed.

22:05 Kripke thanks the fans for 15 years. Everyone else joins in on thanking fans for 15 years.

Jake Abel “There was a big gap in there for me somewhere”

Seb asks if Jake was in the first season.

22:06 Jake “3rd, 5, and 15”

Seb gives long thank you speech.

Jensen talks about how the cast is sticking together “This group is not being dispersed”...”I take comfort in knowing this” jokes that they’re stuck together whether they like it or not.

Misha “Like herpes”

Felicia “Genital or otherwise”

22:07 gag reel begins, including Misha’s ‘on-camera finger, Jensen falling off a chair “furniture could use some work”, Jensen failing to pick a lock for a very long time and Jared asking ‘Cas” to open it, Jensen saying ‘hail misha’ instead of ‘hail mary’, Misha failing to keep a straight face while looking at Alex Calvert, Jensen eating something too hot(?), and more that someone has probably already uploaded in full anyway.

21:13 stream ends.

[abigailnussbaum]

The Watch 1x01 - 1x02

The first two episodes of BBC America’s The Watch aired this weekend, and I’ve seen basically zero discussion of them on my twitter and tumblr feeds. Which I assume is because most of the people I follow are Pratchett fans who have been horrified by the press releases and the trailer (or, for that matter, the lackluster reviews) and decided to write the show off before it even started airing. To be clear, this is an entirely reasonable approach, but there’s nothing else on right now and I was bored.

Quick verdict? It’s not dire, but also not so interesting that you’d feel compelled to keep going with it. In fact, my most powerful reaction after the first two episodes is puzzlement - I can’t understand who the intended audience for this show is. The thinking seems to have been “everyone will be interested in a brash, in your face, rudely comedic fantasy cop show!” And maybe that’s true, but The Watch isn’t particularly brash, in your face, or even that comedic, so what’s left are fans of the genre(s), who are reasonably spoiled for choice right now (the show The Watch most closely resembles is Carnival Row, which is not amazing but still has a greater depth of emotion and a more interesting world). Why anyone would go out of their way to watch a show that seems to be working so hard to stamp out anything original about itself is a question the creators don’t seem to have asked themselves.

More thoughts below the cut.

First, something positive: I quite like the look of the show. There was obviously a lot of pressure from previous adaptations, not to mention the famous illustrations associated with the books, to strike out in an original direction, and I think the show really found one. Instead of fantasized-medieval-through-Victorian, The Watch’s Ankh Morpork combines those period and genre elements with modern ones. So The Mended Drum is now a seedy nightclub with DJ lighting and an open mike stage, and the city’s walls are covered with graffiti tags. The more distinctive settings - the Patrician’s palace, the Unseen University library - are not as interesting, possibly because the budget wouldn’t stretch to make them look really spectacular. But the core approach of the series, that Ankh Morpork is an old but modern city where there are also a lot of fantasy elements, is a fun and refreshing one.

Second, despite all the prevarication and spin in the run-up to the show, this is a Pratchett adaptation. It isn’t merely “inspired by” Pratchett’s novels, as the show’s title screen insists. It isn’t taking Pratchett’s ideas and making its own things with them. I can only assume that these claims were made in response to the backlash against stuff like “Sybil Ramkin, young, hot vigilante”. But despite changes like that, this is actually a fairly straightforward adaptation of Guards! Guards!, which also incorporates elements from Night Watch, plus some rather deep cuts from the rest of the Discworld corpus (the second episode, for example, implies that the ultimate villains of the series are the Auditors of Reality). So yeah, The Watch doesn’t have the excuse of being its own thing. It is a Discworld adaptation, but a bad one, that fails to understand a lot of fundamental thing about the world and the characters.

Third, I think the thing that most strikes about the show is how low-energy it feels. Despite billing itself as something outrageous, and despite some work on the visual front (and in Richard Dormer’s Jack Sparrow-esque performance as Vimes), the show itself feels almost bland. You see this in particular when it comes to the humor. It’s not that The Watch isn’t trying to be funny. There are jokes, and a few of them - mostly the ones original to the series - are mildly amusing. But when it comes to Pratchett’s own humor, the show simply has the actors deliver the gags and references in the most low-key way, and unsurprisingly the result is that hardly any of it lands.

Now, to be fair, this has been a problem with Pratchett adaptations since the 90s. Most of Pratchett’s humor is based in what his third-person narrator tells us about the world, and is hard to convey in a dramatic presentation (Good Omens tried to solve this problem by putting a lot of Pratchett’s narration in its voiceover, with only limited success). But even the dialogue-based jokes are so arch and stagey, that to deliver them successfully would require committing to a lot of very specific, demanding choices from the actors and writers (off the top of my head, the only show that even comes close to that kind of humor is Brooklyn Nine-Nine). It would have to be a high-concept, meticulously executed sitcom, whereas most Pratchett adaptations have been fantasy dramas with jokes. 

So it’s not entirely The Watch’s fault that it isn’t managing to convey the zany energy of Pratchett’s novels, but at the same time, it also clearly isn’t trying to. Its attitude seems to be that simply the existence of things like troll cops or assassins’ guilds who leave a receipt are funny in their own right. And sure, even in a media landscape in which fantasy has been mainstreamed by Harry Potter, the Lord of the Rings movies, and Game of Thrones, not a lot of fantasy settings have an orangutan librarian who only says “ook”. But what makes The Librarian funny isn’t that he’s a librarian who is an orangutan. It’s that he’s a librarian who is an orangutan who still behaves exactly like a librarian (while also doing ape things like swinging from the bookshelves and eating bananas), and that “ook” can convey almost any concept in existence. The Watch doesn’t seem to realize this. It seems to be assuming that just putting that stuff on screen, or parroting Pratchett’s lines, will be hilarious in and of itself, while leaving out a lot of the specificity of setting, character, and tone that made the books sing.

You see this also in how it handles its characters. Everyone fixated on Lady Sybil when the promos came out, because that’s the most egregious misreading of the original (and rooted in the most boring assumptions about what audiences want and will respond to). But it’s everywhere. Take Carrot, for example. In the books, Carrot is fascinating because he’s never entirely what you take him for. He’s innocent, but not naive. Principled, but not a zealot. A goody-two-shoes, but not a prig. He’s always a lot smarter than you think he is, and most importantly, he genuinely likes and is interested in people. 

The Watch delivers none of this, and instead makes Carrot your basic hothead rookie who just wants to take down bad guys and sees the more seasoned, cynical officers who keep trying to slow him down as hopelessly corrupted. There’s none of Carrot’s openness, or his genuine love of the city, in this character. Instead he’s sullen and judgmental. And look, we could have a long conversation about which one of these characters is more useful to us and our ongoing conversation about policing (as well as a much shorter conversation about which one of them is truer to the ideas Pratchett was trying to convey about policing). But what feels more important to me, when coming to evaluate a new series that is trying to make an argument for why you should keep watching it, is the simple fact that there are a million places where you could find a character like The Watch’s Carrot, and hardly anywhere where you could find one like Pratchett’s. 

Again and again, it feels as if, in the pursuit of what it thinks of as outrageous, risk-taking storytelling, The Watch jettisons the unique characters from the books and replaces them with ones that we’ve seen a million times before. Angua in the books is kind of neurotic, and extremely thoughtful about the way her condition can incline her to see other people as objects to be used and consumed (which Pratchett later develops into an aspect of his theme of monsters-as-aristocrats). In the show, she’s obsessed with how her lycanthropy makes her “the real monster”. Oh boy, I’ve never seen a werewolf worry about being a monster before! I’ve never seen a scene where they send their friends away just as they’re about to transform! This is cutting edge stuff, I tell you. And while we’re on the subject, it gives me no pleasure to report that Anna Chancellor as Patrician Vetinari is thoroughly meh, because no effort has been taken to convey the character’s intelligence, near-omniscience, and constant scheming. Vimes is intimidated by her because she’s his boss and she’s posh, not because of anything specific to her. She feels almost identical to a million other posh rulers whose job it is to infodump to and threaten scrappy, working class heroes.

Which brings me back to my original observation: that I do not get who this show is for. It’s not for Pratchett fans, because it deliberately drops a great deal of what made his writing and characters special in favor of the most generic, predictable choices. But I can’t help but feel that anyone who is into this sort of extremely familiar cop story will be put off by the dragons and the wizards and the orangutan librarian, not to mention Dormer’s gurning performance. The whole thing is almost fascinating to watch - a work that clearly believes itself to be boundary-pushing and different, when really it’s just dull but with dragons.

[cannebady]

An obligatory Good Omens New Year’s Eve ficlet. Enjoy!

Here on AO3!

I realized that I need you, and I wondered if I could come home 

It ended up bring a surprise visit. With the lockdowns continuing through most of the year, Aziraphale had been stubbornly dedicated to leading by example and had refused Crowley on several occasions when he’d offered to keep him company. It was the right decision, Crowley supposed. While neither angel nor demon could get sick or transmit it to others, humans were always looking for a loophole to skirt the rules and, although Crowley would usually go out of his way to encourage them, this was starting to remind him all too much of his least favorite centuries so he didn’t push too hard.

The other benefit, was that the distance pushed Aziraphale to actually use the mobile Crowley had bought him months before all hell (side eye heavily implied) broke loose, which allowed them to communicate almost constantly. As it turns out, alcohol and texting really can be revealing and they’d continued to move, albeit at a glacial pace, towards something more.

This is all, however, a moot point because Crowley woke up on the 31st of December and immediately thought, “Ah, fuck it.” He donned his mask (not that he needs it, but it sets a good example and is a solid Look™) and drove on over to Soho to surprise an angel.

When he knocked at the bookshop door, he could already feel the air of displeasure coming from inside. He smirked, only visible by the crinkling at the corner of one eye. Lockdowns had allowed Aziraphale’s already shoddy business hours to become almost nonexistent, something the angel had nearly unbridled joy for.

When the door opened, he had to rein in actual tears of relief. He knew he missed Aziraphale something fierce, but actually seeing him made the wreck of Crowley’s heart swell and squeeze in a way he wasn’t used to.

Donning a pearlescent white mask that was very likely not of this world in origin, storm blue eyes connected with his and Crowley was warmed through to see the same, lovely, overwhelmed feeling mirrored back to him.

“My dear,” Aziraphale had whispered, looking Crowley over, “what are you doing here? It isn’t safe!”

Crowley, tired of waiting on the step while they goggled at each other, pushed inside while Aziraphale closed the door, locking it for good measure. “Well hello to you too, angel. Long time, no see.”

He snapped his fingers to place his mask in a pocket universe (he’s a bit embarrassed to admit that his earthly pockets wouldn’t exactly hold much more than his fingertips) and took care of Aziraphale’s as well.

“Crowley, we discussed this! I miss you terribly, of course I do, but we can’t just go breaking the rules willy-nilly!”

A year ago Crowley would’ve rolled his eyes at “willy-nilly”, but right now? Well, right now he’s so entranced he can’t breathe, never mind scoff.

“Angel-” He breaks off because there’s so much he wants to say, but Aziraphale is beautiful. He’s known it since Eden, but this is the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other in quite some time and he’s obsessing over the few extra inches of white blonde curls, not to mention the couple of extra inches on well-fed hips (courtesy of quarantine baking and fewer walks in parks, and for that Crowley would just like to say thank you), that are both likely to send Crowley into hysterics if he thinks about them too long.

“M’sorry angel, I just-” he sighs, “I know it’s wrong I just couldn’t wait longer. I can go, if you’d like.” He looks down, he’s not as sure that Aziraphale will kick him out as he once had been, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to watch it happen.

What he misses, is the very obvious once-over Aziraphale gives to his messy, much longer, curls and the longing look that speaks to ages of desire to cross those last few feet between them.

“Nonsense, my dear. You’re right, we cannot make this worse and you took precautions.” Crowley lifts his eyes to meet Aziraphale’s and is met with a brilliant smile. “And, of course, I am so happy to see you dearest.”

Dearest. Aziraphale called him that sometimes via text but this is the first time he’d heard it out loud. He was more attached to it than he’d like to examine.

“Well, in that case, I believe the humans have a tradition on this day that involves both day drinking and regular drinking.” He miracles a few choice vintages and a lovely bottle of Whispering Angel, because he’s still an arsehole sometimes, onto the table in the back room.

“If it’s tradition I suppose we must.” Aziraphale says with a smirk that’s not angelic at all.

Perhaps, Crowley thinks as Aziraphale leads him back to the squashy, infernally comfortable couch in the back room, this year may just end better than it started.

It’s been hours. They made it through Crowley’s initial bottles and have moved on decidedly to Aziraphale’s own, not inconsiderable, reserves. They’re encroaching on drunken territory they haven’t traversed since Armageddon first fell on their radar but this time, it���s so much better.

They’re laughing wildly while Aziraphale recounts, with requisite demonstrations, how he learned the gavotte and Crowley’s laughing so hard that his stomach hurts. He’s warm, and they’re safe together, and Aziraphale has a lovely blush high on his cheeks and Crowley’s sure he has the same, and he can’t remember being this happy for a long, long time.

“And, and-,” the angel trails off for a moment, “I couldn’t quite remember which way to turn,” he pantomimes turning in a graceless circle, “so I just, well, I rather tumbled directly into a bookshelf and realized I’d imbibed a bit too much.”

He looks at Crowley pointedly while he tries to smother a cackle. “You know, it’s not entirely dissimilar to now. I fear I’m quite completely rat-arsed.”

Crowley’s control breaks and he laughs loud and long while Aziraphale blushes more and then joins him, because they’re both completely arseholed and they have been during every century since the Beginning.

A glance at the clock shows it’s only a short time until the clock ticks over into the next year and a pit forms in Crowley’s stomach. He doesn’t want to lose this easy camaraderie and the soft love he’s feeling (it is love, he’s known it for a long time, and has accepted it for long enough) and he isn’t sure if he’ll be permitted to stay. There’s also a part of him that, for several decades now, has dreamed about employing another human tradition surrounding New Year’s Eve, but he’s even less sure of its welcome.

Aziraphale catches his eyeline and looks towards the old grandfather clock, obviously seeing the change is Crowley’s bright disposition.

“Not long now, it would seem.” He says quietly.

“Not long at all and we’ll be singing Auld Lang Syne and bidd-”, Crowley stops, his throat choking up.

“And what, dear?” Aziraphale thinks he knows where this was headed. Thinks he knows that the complicated string of emotions is on Crowley’s beloved face. He thinks he might just see everything he wants in arms reach of taking.

Crowley’s eyes are fully yellow, goldenrod and gorgeous, dark with drink or something more when he looks up to meet Aziraphale’s own. “I-, angel. Would I, ngk, what would you say if I stayed for a bit? Kept you company?”

He drops his head down again. Aziraphale hates that he looks like he’s bracing for bad news. Perhaps he has not done as well as he thought in letting Crowley know that the door was wide open now. Frankly off its hinges. Perhaps it’s time for extraordinary measures.He closes the distance between them, sitting next to the demon on the couch.

“Dearest, I think I’d like nothing more.” He reaches out and cups Crowley’s sharp jaw, tilting his head so that he can look into those stunning eyes again. He runs his thumb along his cheekbone and hears the sharp inhale.

This is the most skin-to-skin contact they’ve had since the Roman baths (there was an awkward side hug at one point that Crowley thought may actually discorporate him). But now, the simple contact of those soft, plump fingers on his jaw and his cheek are about to send him to his maker.

“Angel,” he reaches up and lays his hand over Aziraphale’s. Little to their knowledge, they’ve begun a countdown all their own. “are you sure?”

“I’m positive darling. Let me show you.” Aziraphale responds, allowing his thump to dip and run along Crowley’s luscious bottom lip. “Can I show you?”

“Please, angel”, Crowley nearly sobs and kind, giving, gracious Aziraphale takes a brief inhale of his own before laying his lips against the demon’s.

Crowley’s never really done this before. Sure there were humans here and there that thought to lay one on him, but he’s never taken the time to think about it. Why are lips so bloody sensitive? He thinks before he stops possessing higher order functioning and has only a mind to get Aziraphale closer, right the fuck now.

He reaches out and drags his hands down Aziraphale’s arms (both angelic hands now buried in his hair), delighting at the honest to God whimper he gets in response, and lets one hand tangle in ice blonde curls longer than he’s ever seen them, and lets the other drift from shoulder to waist, and finally to land on an ample hip that fits so perfectly into his hand that he thinks he might cry.

Their lips refuse to part and before long it’s gone from gently exploratory, to open and hot, tongues running along lips, tangling together, allowing them to taste each other for the first time.

They break apart briefly, speaking so close that each word is a sweet caress on the other’s lips; a placeholder while they work out their thoughts.

Aziraphale takes it upon himself to take the plunge here too, “I love you. I have loved you for so long that I don’t know what it is not to love you. I fear I was quiet for too long, but I will no longer abide. I will tell you I love you each time I think about how much I love you, until you’re sick to death of hearing it.”

While breathing is an option for both, Crowley is nearly hyperventilating. He thought, perhaps, Aziraphale may think of trying something with him. May even want to try out some more, erm, intimate, acts with him as the angel is always in such a rage for pleasure. But he never guessed that the haunting, creation-long devotion he felt would be reciprocated in the same way.

“Oh angel, I love you. I met you on the wall of Eden and thought ‘Oh, what’s that in my chest?’ and realized they didn’t take my heart when I Fell. I’m yours, if you’ll have me, if you’ll be mine as well.”

“Dearest, I’ve been yours for some time now.” And then words really aren’t important any more as Crowley lunges, pushing Aziraphale back into the squashy couch and running his hands over his coveted softness while angelic hands map his neck and his back and, Christ, his arse.

While the world nervously looks to a new year for peace and solice, two celestial beings have found it, at long last, right at home.

[tar-oh]

Pick-A -Pile: What will the rest of November be like for you?

Howdy there, folks! Sorry it’s been a while. But here I am! I have 3 new decks, so I wanted to use those. I have the Cosmic Tarot deck, which I’m excited to use because it’s from the 90′s. It’s also based somewhat off of old movie stars, too. It’s one of the most interesting decks I’ve seen just because of the interpretation the artist had on some cards, but I find that they’re fun to read intuitively. I also got the Light Seer’s Tarot from my best friend for my birthday. That one is fun because the artwork is beautiful and it’s got a lot of bright colors. The last is a new oracle deck I got called the Seasons of the Witch: Samhain Oracle, which is based around Halloween/Samhain. t’s very much Halloween/witch themed and has beautiful artwork and poetry on it. I also pulled moonology cards for each pile.

The question I asked for each pile was just what the rest of November will be like for you. I think it’s just better sometimes to let what needs to come through come through, and I have to say that there was a lot of healing and change that came through for each pile.

Here’s the piles to pick from:

So:

Pile 1 is the Opalite

Pile 2 is the Rose Quartz

Pile 3 is the Carnelian

I need to say that this is a general reading. It’s for a bunch of different people, so it’s not specific, nor does it mean it will resonate with you. If it doesn’t, I have a few other readings on my blog that aren’t time-specific and may give you insight. Otherwise, I may not be the reader for you. If you would like to reach out for a personal reading, my DM’s are always open and I will try to answer it ASAP. I recently got a cashapp, so if you’d like to tip (it’s not necessary), it’s $sarams.

SO. THAT BEING SAID ONTO THE READINGS:

Pile 1: Opalite

Cards:  strength, 6 of pentacles, the moon, 8 of wands, 5 of cups, page of pentacles, 2 of wands, banshee, new moon in sagittarius

There's one word that keeps showing up with these cards for me, and that's CHANGE. The Banshee warns of you blocking change. New Moon in Sag suggests you might change your mind on something. The strength card in this particular deck suggests the transformation of energy. So, the word for your November is Change and I think these cards are saying that there will be change for you, but how it goes, it's up to you. You're asked to get out there. And by that, I don't necessarily mean going out and about (especially for those that COVID is still around, be safe guys!). I mean whatever that means for you. So for some, you want to put something on the internet. For example, if you're thinking of starting a new blog or even a youtube channel, this spread is telling you to do that. There's a lot of pentacles and wands in this spread. That tells me there's a lot of creativity and abundance within this. I don't always mean material wealth, I mean whatever that could mean to you. This could be a passion project, that you work on for fun. Or it could actually be something you plan on trying to make money from.  This pile needs to realize their own power. The fact that the lady in the strength card is holding a tapestry with a lion on it furthers this idea for me. Lions in historical terms have always symbolized strength. I'm reading this as if she had the tapestry covering her whole body up, but she appears to be moving it away. I'm also assuming she's naked behind it, too, so it's like, stripping away a mask you might have had on. This idea that you were toning yourself down for everyone else, but now you're letting that fall away. You're being you, and unapologetically so.  You have a lot to share and a lot to give, and you're a little hesitant about this. Perhaps, in the past, you had things not go the way you wanted when you put yourself out there. But, this is telling you to forget that. A lot of you are changing or going through changes, whether it be inside or how things external to you. But, you're also denying these changes? Like, okay right now Make Way by the Front Bottoms is playing, and he sings "I make way for the expensive things in my head." You have dreams, but these dreams cannot come into actualization until you make room. The Banshee card can read as a warning, and I'll get to that later. In order for new things to come in, there needs to be room. This Banshee card hints that you're not allowing there to be room.  

As I was writing that I started to think about the 4 of pentacles from the Rider-Waite deck. On the card, he guy's hoarding the pentacle and the chest underneath him full of who knows what (knowledge? love? money?) but that card isn't present. But, my eyes were drawn to the 5 of cups where she's looking down into the hole that the cups are spilling into. It almost looks like a bit of her soul is spilling into it too. I read that as someone who poured a lot of effort into those cups, a lot of their soul too. But, in the end, it was all for naught. At least, that's how they see it. So they dump out all those cups and their soul goes with them. But, that's not what I mean by making room.  In this card, she's so focused on what's lost, rather than what could come in. Behind her, there's this path and wide-open space, and the stars are out. It's so beautiful but her backs to it. You need to be able to turn around and run into that unknown. The moon definitely supports that idea to me, also this 8 of wands. The moon in this reading, to me, is you embracing the unknown. Like, walking into the future despite it not having certainty yet. As unsure as you are about what tomorrow, next week, or even next year holds, you need to be able to crawl out of that pond like that lobster. He's kind of jumping out of that pond at the moon like "HERE I AM!" I also see him as reaching towards the moon that's made up of two fishes. So, almost like he's grabbing at them like a prize. So, I want to be cheesy and say REACH FOR THE SKY! And, I don't know. Perhaps a bit of corniness is needed in this moment for you? 8 of wands also gave me that feeling too. It's an image of a man jumping through the air with those 8 wands and he looks ABSOLUTELY THRILLED. These cards are telling you to be excited because when you reach out, good things reach for you if that makes sense.   Page of Pentacles and 2 of wands show me that there's something you are or will be working on that you want to share.  These also tell me it's something that you need to be practical about sharing. Like, the way you go about it. It's a bit like you need to make sure that when you jump through the air with those wands, you're calculating where you land. So, it's telling you to jump, but not to be The Fool about it. Don't jump without looking. But also, not to sit still like that girl in the 2 of wands. She's looking out the window wishing when she could be going. The 6 of pentacles tells me that whatever you share is going to be valuable. Usually, this card is about give and take. Or, about being compassionate and empathetic. Having what you need and sharing it too. It could also mean someone is helping you out. But, today I'm seeing this as you having something that would be valuable to others. So, maybe you want to make a fitness vlog or you have a large knowledge about rocks or something and you want to write blog posts about them. And, this specific version of the 6 of pentacles is that this man is standing under a crescent moon. It looks to me like it was recently a new moon, and I kind of see those pentacles as other phases of the moon. So, to me, it's like you manifesting. The act of placing an intention on what you want to do or achieve between the new and full moons. Like, this man is under this newer moon and he is manifesting what he wants. He's also excited about what's to come despite it being unknown. Those 8 wands are telling you to DO IT. START IT. You got New Moon in Sagittarius, which has the line "Luck is on your side" written on the card. In the moonology deck, I read this as the equivalence of the Wheel of Fortune tarot card. I mean, it even mentions the wheel in the guidebook. This card is telling you to GO! Do it! You've got luck on your side, but to also stay open-minded. I did mention that the Banshee does serve as a warning. The card's keywords are bad omens and wrath. I don't want this to scare you, rather, I want you to take this and hug it. I'm laughing at myself for that last part, but seriously. This card is, to me, just death reversed. When death is in reverse, you're denying a transformation that needs to happen. Even denying the ending of something. This is telling you that things are changing. They will not, cannot stay the same and that this warns you against denying this. Change can be so beautiful. Like, I mean, think about butterflies and the transformation they go through? You could have that! This change could be physical or mental or in your external world. Either way, if you're able to embrace this change with open arms, you'll find that there's a lot of joy that comes with this. I do have to say that there is the risk of you getting a bit of a big head. I want to tell you to stay level-headed about everything that comes your way. I also have to bring that 5 of cups back up along with the banshee. These suggest this idea that you're focused on mourning an ending, but that you should let it go. A part of me doesn't agree with that completely. There is a certain amount of need to allow these things to fall away and not to mourn forever. But also,  if you're still grieving it once those changes come in, that's okay. That whole, making way for the expensive things is something that one needs to do, but there's also this thought I have about making space...to just...allow things to be. Sitting with something. The song Unsaid Emily came on from Julie and the Phantoms. The story it tells is heartbreaking, and I found it fitting. The song is about regrets and wishing you could say something you never got to say. There's a part where he sings "If you could only know, I'd never let you go." This ties in because you can still have that past with you. You don't have to let it go completely, but there's also a point where wallowing in it doesn't help. So, it's like, this banshee/5 of cups combo is both a warning and the act of acceptance. Like, this acceptance that this happened. It's over, and we will have these thoughts on it for a while (they'll probably transform through time). But, they're there, and while we're embracing it we're also taking them and moving forward. It's this act of leaving it behind while simultaneously leaving room for it in your suitcase. All seriousness aside now, I think November is going to be good for you. I don't know if it's going to be super major in any way, but I know that it's going to at least be a stepping stone for the rest of your life. Maybe a lot of little things will happen that will only be worked into your memory years later as things that you can attribute to where you are. I just see joy and creativity in these cards and maybe hesitation, but its that hesitation before you jump and I see that when you land (in that calculated spot), you're going to be okay. And, honestly, I think right now, that's all we want to hear. Right? That we'll be okay? Songs:

Make Way - The Front Bottoms  Unsaid Emily - Julie and the Phantoms Soundtrack Makeup - Oberhofer

Pile 2: Rose Quartz

Cards: Queen of Swords, Two of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, Temperance, 4 of Wands, King of Wands, Full Moon Eclipse, Wolf One thing that's coming through strongly is that you need to follow your intuition. In the song Wild Roses by Of Monsters and Men, there are the lyrics "I followed a feeling". Even more, in the song Don't Give Up Your Ghost by Movements, they talk about not letting your demons get the best of you. Not letting those dreams you had go. And so, you follow them and chase that feeling, whatever that means to you. The card Wolf's keywords are instinct and freedom. It's the last card of the Seasons of the Witch deck, and with it comes this sense of completion. The Full Moon Eclipse speaks of conclusions being within reach. These conclusions are doors that have closed. But with these cards, while I see contemplation in some (queen of swords, temperance, even King of Wands), I also see movement. In 4 of Wands, they're dancing. In King of Wands, he does look stationary, but he also looks as if he's going to step forward at any moment. In two of pentacles, he's trying to keep his balance, but it looks like he's also trying to move forward too. So, there's a sense of forward movement, but with it comes this act of never looking back. There's a chance you'll face a decision in November. With the Queen of Swords and Temperance, you're asked to stop for a moment and be logical. To balance out the practicalities and the emotions. But, with it comes a beginning, one that can prove to be very fulfilling to you. There's a chance that this leads to a celebration, as well. Either way, you're asked to weigh the options while also keeping in mind that whatever you're leaving behind stays behind you. The last pile was also about moving forward and change. But, it was also a gentle reminder to hold your values and memories close to your heart. Whereas, with this pile, you need to hold those values and memories, but not as closely. At a distance where you can see them to keep perspective, but far enough away that they're not pulling you back to that door. And, by the way, that door will be locked. I don't know what this could be that you can't go back on. I mean, I guess it's like something that you just can't relive. Maybe it's that thing where nothing's ever the same again. Either way, it's like this spread is begging you to move forward. Ah! The song that came on is Kill My Time by 5 seconds of summer. There's a line, "Why don't you just say goodbye now. It's only a matter of time," which goes perfectly with what I just said. It's like, whatever is reaching it's conclusion. It's as if you've ridden that wave and you're at the end of it. You've run out of a wave to ride, so it's time to find another. On the wolf card, it says "Run wildy into the freedom of your knowing", so 1. definitely feeling the moon card here. But also 2. you're released from whatever is concluding. Also, the moon, it's about mysteries and the unknown and in the last pile they got it and it was telling them to jump into the unknown. I see that you guys are asked to jump into the unknown as well. Though something tells me that you guys have a bit more of an idea of what's going on. The queen of swords looks like she knows and that wolf howling at the moon knows something too. There's this feeling of the unknown but also knowing the unknown here. But, then with this unknown/decision you might have to make, you're reminded to keep balanced. In the temperance card, he's holding the moon in one hand and the sun in another. So, it's like night and day. I think that's suggesting this need for a schedule. Like, maybe a set bedtime? You guys could possibly be more of the night owl type. I guess, in that case, it's just a reminder to get an adequate amount of sleep. So, still setting a set time for sleep and a set time for waking up. Also, it's telling you to take care of yourself overall. The two of pentacles also brings that idea of balance because I mean, this card is about keeping up with everything. It's like, having two things and being able to balance them. Some of the versions of this make it seem like it's time to focus on one and stop trying to do both. In this deck, because the act of balancing is actually his body trying not to fall in the water, I see that this balance of keeping up different things at once is essential. So, say you're in school but you're also working. You're asked to keep up the hard work in both your school work and work-work, while also taking care of yourself. Assuring that you don't fall into the water. On the 2 of pentacles here, the pentacles are on his shirt. He already has these pentacles and I don't see him losing them. Unless he discards the shirt, so it's like unless you actually quit your job or school, you can't really lose them. You can lose the quality, but not the actual pentacle. My favorite thing about the Light Seer's Tarot is that each card has an affirmation. These sum up the card as a whole. Despite the 2 of pentacles being from the Cosmic Tarot, I think the affirmation is particularly noteworthy here: "I create an equilibrium in my life that allows me to be my best self." So, for November I see you going through a door that will close. This door is meant to be closed, but it doesn't mean it can't have a window you can peer into once and a while. You're just not meant to go back through it. Instead, you're meant to step forward into your future. I see that this is going to be abundant. You're asked to remember to follow your gut instincts, but also to keep balanced. To be honest, kind of like the crystal you chose, I just feel a lot of love. And I'm not really reading that as love from someone else (I mean, yes, there could very well be that), instead, I'm reading it as you just radiating love. So, I could say...November sounds lovely for you...lol  Songs: Wild Roses - Of Monsters and Men Don’t Give Up Your Ghost - Movements Kill My Time - 5 Seconds of Summer Group 3: Carnelian

Cards: The Empress, The Lovers, Death, Queen of Swords, the Sun, 7 of Pentacles, New Moon in Virgo, Blue Moon, Journey Okay, I'm a little weirded out by the whole shuffling process. Several things happened that were kind of...Oof. First I kept seeing the Queen of Swords and was thinking "I bet that's gonna come out somewhere" and it DID. Then I saw that your Seasons of the Witch card was 24, which adds to 6, which in tarot is the lovers. I've read that 6s can mean journeys too. Well, THEN the lovers came out. Bottom deck energy for the Seasons of the witch is the All Hallow's Eve card. This made me wonder if your "journey" started on Halloween. Well, guys, then the Blue Moon card fell out, and that full moon on Halloween was a blue moon. Granted, all of these are coincidental, but it's just funny how those things work out. If you think something shifted for you on Halloween, then you're correct with thinking that. For some, it's with a love connection. For others, it was you just being able to figure out a little better on where you want to go in life, or where you're headed. So, jumping in, I want to focus on the Empress card first. I love this version because she looks so much more comfortable to me than any of the other empress cards I've seen. She looks relaxed like she has everything she needs. And, I do think one could say materially she has what she needs, but she also looks like she provided it for herself. Nothing on this card suggests it other than her face. She just looks sure of herself. Moving on to the Queen of Swords, while I get a colder energy from her, she also looks kind of similar. She's not in the same posture completely. Her posture could even be argued as not looking very relaxed, but her face makes it look like she's relaxed. She looks like she's content with where she sits. She's looking off into the sky, like, though she's content with where she's at, she's also looking for something. Maybe she's searching in her own brain or scanning the world off of where the card cuts us off from what she sees. They both have their hands to their chins, one seems more sure of herself, but the other still seems sure. So, what I take away from these two cards right away is that you know yourself. Maybe you're saying, "But Sara, I'm only just figuring out who I am?" And, yeah. So am I. Life is this process where we're constantly evolving. One week you have one belief, and the next that could have changed because you've learned 100 new things. You have both the Death and the Journey card. With the lovers and these two other cards, this is saying to me that you are changing. Nothing will be the same next week and nothing will be the same the week after, but you understand your goals and your values and at the end of the day, you're still you. I almost feel that I need to stop and reassure this pile that you're still you. Maybe you've been looking in the mirror lately and not recognizing yourself. Maybe people have been saying things like "I don't know you anymore", but you're still you! YOU ARE STILL YOU! And, this is also telling you to stop, take stock of who you are at this very moment. Be sure of it. That sounds hard to me, so I can understand if you think it does too. But there are things we're sure of. Like your values. Your sense of right and wrong. Hell, the music genre you gravitate towards the most. Those are you and you alone. So, take a moment, take a breath, and think about yourself.  Now, I want you to take another moment to just love yourself. No if, ands, or buts. I mean, it. Stop and say to yourself "I love me." And I need you do to it with kindness. Forget the person you flipped off while driving yesterday. Forget that last mean thing you said to someone. Forget that bad grade you got when you were 13 because you were too focused on that band that came to town. Forget it all for a second and take this time to just breathe in and love yourself for who you are in the moment. Okay. Now that that's done. Onto what's coming. Well, like the other two piles change. Everyone today seems to be going through changes. Though, it's different for everyone. Pile one was asked to take a calculated risk, but still go for it. Pile two was asked to move forward and to not move backwards. You're asked to move forward gently. And I don't mean cautiously, though with New Moon in Virgo, I'd say there is some calculation needed here. But, I still don't mean cautiously. I mean, with love. With kindness. With you being the best that you can be to others and yourself. Something is just telling me that someone reading this is really upset with themselves, and I just want you to know that while you're still you and there are some of those core things that you still have, you're also not the same person you were yesterday or 5 hours ago, and that's okay. That's life. And you need to understand that we all fuck up and we all say things we don't mean sometimes, but that doesn't set anything in stone. That doesn't define you as a horrible person. Shit happens and sometimes that shit happens because we did it. But? I still love you and you should still love you too. The more you stop to love yourself and be kind to yourself, the more you're going to discover about yourself. And while you're discovering yourself, there's a need to look ahead while simultaneously staying present. On the Death card, there's a clock stuck in the ground, frozen. I almost want to say to you that time doesn't matter. I mean, yes if you have a shift that starts at 10, by all means, go to it on time. But, in the grand scheme of things, time doesn't matter, and for you, it means that your path is not linear, nor does it have a set schedule. God, I cannot believe I'm doing this, but I had a manager that I have to quote. He once said to me that he didn't believe in time. As a history major, that confused me to no end. Like, I got where he was coming from, but my whole life consists of time time time. I thought in dates. I know dates well and dates are time. But now I kind of see it. It's this idea that life isn't time, it's lessons. Does that make sense? And, I think that's what he meant, lol. He also tended to be really cryptic so, I could be totally wrong, but this is what I'm taking from the whole thing. The Journey card from the Seasons of the Witch deck says something along the same vein to me: "Daughters of our Mother, walkers of the unknown, take with you on this journey all that you hone." So, all we need is to live and take those lessons with us as we live. And, the Virgo card also reminds me of Virgos in general. They're known to be super analytical, so there's this thought that while you need to take lessons at their face value, you also need to dive into them too. It's like reading a book by its cover. There are things to take from that cover, like how the title font presents itself to you and what the illustration/picture is, but then there's also the content inside the book. Both the cover and the content matter. Don't judge a book by its cover, but also take in what's presented to you. The seven of pentacles always means have patience whenever I pull it for myself, so I read it that way for you too. There is no set schedule (like that whole time thing, right? it's nonexistent) and that might make you antsy. But, what good does that do? You could be chilling like the Empress. Or, you could be sitting and watching that cucumber you planted last week sprout, despite knowing that it's still going to take time. One definitely sounds more relaxing. 7 of Pentacles suggests this patience because it takes more than a week for a good thing to grow, you know? And, I mean, yeah you can make things in a day, but there's that saying, "Rome wasn't built in a day."  Rome was built over a VERY long period of time, going through different types of governments and it switched around between paganism and Christianity. There were a lot of changes within that long period of time. I know I went on a rant earlier about time and how it's nonexistent, and blah blah blah. However, there's also this idea that even though you need to not be focusing on time, you also need to know that for things that are quality, it takes time. Like, time and effort. No half-assed shit, right? But, I mean that in a loving way. And, this, by all means, is about you changing. So, this is something that is going to take time to hone in on. Something that's going to take finesse. It's going to take experience and love. That may be something hard to hear. Trust me, I know this. Depression is a beast and I know how that and other mental illness can really fuck with you and your perception of the world and of yourself. But, both 7 of Pentacles and New Moon in Virgo suggest taking a moment and looking at where you are and where you're going. So, again, that idea of staying present while also moving forward. But, also being analytical (but not OVER analytical). And while you're looking at where you are, there's a need to stop and be okay with where you're at, too. This is especially for my buds who are having a hard time mentally. I know that when you're in the thick of it, it's hard to get out of the fog. That some days, or even weeks, you end it with tears and it's hard to stay motivated to do anything. With me, it's a bad cycle where I lack that motivation, but to feel worthy I need to be working. It's a cruel thing that I do to myself, because my worth is not within my productivity, and I think as a society that's something (at least for all my American friends) we need to remember. There are days when the only thing you do is just getting out of bed to get food and honestly, that's better than nothing. So, it's taking stock of the things, little and big, that you accomplish. Which, that definitely adds to that idea that time for you is not linear and that it's going to take you more time to do things other people can get done in a week or two. But, then on the flip-side, there are other things that will take you less time than it would for someone else. Nothing's linear and no one's the same. No one's path is a duplicate of someone else's journey. Harry Style's song, Golden came on. There's that line where he says "You're so golden", and I think you need to hear that right now. It definitely makes me think of the Sun card, which you got. It's this card of immense happiness. Abundance. It's a beautiful card and in this deck, it's bright, super bright. So, yeah. I'd say you're so golden. And I think this is more a matter of you being the sun like you need to stop and see yourself as that. Maybe you're someone that gives so much to others but not yourself. Honestly, from what I was getting earlier I can see that. So, maybe circling back to how relaxed both the Empress and the Queen of Swords look, maybe this is a message to you to relax? Relaxing and maybe taking stock of those lessons that have been presented to you. There's also a need to take care of yourself with the New Moon in Virgo. It just suggests eating healthier and what-not, so I'd add that to the relaxation. Like, relax and take care of yourself. And, gosh, again, I gotta bring up depression because it's really simple for me to be like "HEY YOU! Take care of your body!" but, I know what it's like to not want to exist. So, if that's the case, I want you to take it day by day, breath by breath. Start out small, get a glass of water, take some deep breaths. Do something that makes you feel good (that's also not detrimental to your health). I also think you're asked to believe that you can accomplish what you want to accomplish. It's like, you can achieve so much, but you also have to make sure that you're taking care of yourself on your way. So while there could be obstacles outside of you, you're your biggest obstacle. One thing I should note is that you got the Blue Moon card. This suggests that you may get an opportunity of some sort that's rare. Now, this could mean a lot of things with these other cards. One I can see is travel with the journey card. I see it more as outside into nature really, with the colors from the Virgo card and the forest on the Blue Moon card. Like, a camping trip? Honestly, right now I'd give anything to go camping, so if you go, send me pictures! Another for someone is maybe meeting someone you click well with, whether it be platonically or romantically with the Lovers. If that's the case, I see this relationship being really good, like nurturing and abundant. Full of joy and good times. Another is maybe just a chance to just take a step back and rest with both the Empress and the Queen of swords. Either way, I see this as being something that you consider to be good. It will also transform you in some way, more than how you're changing now. I can't really get into more because it just feels like this is super general because I feel like a lot of you are choosing this pile. I do suggest that if you felt called to the other two piles, I'd go look at them since they're all about change too. The bottom of one of the decks is the Star, so I see that there is a hopeful energy to this and that whatever is going to happen, you're going to start feeling more hopeful. But also, promise me you'll be kind to yourselves?   Music:

Golden - Harry Styles Was It Something I Said? - Mykey

[random-french-girl]

pirates? in my bumbleby AU?

A while ago, because of this amazing fanart, me and @grimmfluence talked about a rival pirates AU, and I ended up writing it just for fun. I completely forgot about it, but I just found the google doc again and global quarantine seems like the perfect time to share fics. So, here: have a very self-indulgent one shot about Blake and Yang as rival pirate captains, with a healthy dose of fighting, and even more sexual tension.

Words: ~4300

Rating: T (ish?)

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”Sail!”

Ruby’s voice rings out loud and clear from her perch on the crow’s nest. As soon as she hears the call, Yang, on the quarterdeck, points her spyglass to the west. She doesn’t see anything at first - her sister has sharper eyes than most, which is why she’s so often their lookout - but, eventually, she finds the dark shape on the horizon line. There it is. The Atlas Navy ship that’s gonna make them all rich. And more importantly, free. 

She tucks the spyglass back in a pocket of her waistcoat. On the lower deck, the crew awaits her orders, rugged faces turned towards her with eyes full of hope and determination. A few feet from her, Weiss, her quartermaster, waits as well, standing by the steering wheel. A hint of nervousness shows in the way her gloved hand grips the pommel of her rapier. 

Yang faces Weiss, grinning. “Time to hunt those bastards. Raise the black.” Weiss’s mouth curves in a smile, white teeth glinting ominously in the sunlight, as does the white oiled cloth of her eyepatch. She turns to the crew. “You heard the captain, we’re going after them. Raise the black! Raise the mainsail! Batten down the hatches!”

The crew scrambles to obey, with the habitual trepidation that comes with an impending fight, and soon they’re picking up speed. Yang feels the wind on her face, toying with her hair, spraying salt on her sunbaked skin. She breathes in, deeply, and checks the loaded pistol at her hip, the broad cutlass hanging from her belt. She’s wearing her combat hook today ; the tip is as sharp as any blade, and more dangerous than most since she’s the one wielding it. Captain Xiao Long, the Dragon of the seas, is ready for battle.

“There’s another one!” Ruby yells, suddenly. Even from so high up, Yang hears the shock in her sister’s voice. “Another ship! Coming from the south, faster than us!”

“Another Atlas ship?” Yang groans, cursing internally. Two ships against one won’t make for an easy fight, even if her Summer Thorn is as sturdy as they come. 

“No, it’s not showing Atlas colors. They’re… Oh, goddamnit. Yang, it’s the Black Cat.”

Yang’s blood boils. Her eyes turn red. “How the fuck did Belladonna find out about this?”

Nobody answers but the wind.

***

Admiral Cordovin, commander of the Atlesian Fleet, captain of the Iron Boot, Navy veteran, manages to keep her cool as the enemy ship comes at them full speed. That is, until she catches sight of the black flag with white fangs raised on top of the main mast - then she can’t help a whimper of fear. She glances behind her, but the line of soldiers standing at attention doesn’t react. Maybe they didn’t hear. 

“Is that… Is that the Black Cat?” her-second-in-command murmurs beside her, not bothering to mask his terror.

The ship is a schooner, elegant and fast, coursing through the waves like it has a mind of its own. Cordovin swallows, uneasily. Everyone knows seeing the flag of the Black Cat is a bad omen.

“Cannons at the ready!” she orders, voice trembling slightly. The second-in-command gulps. “Ma’am, are we actually fighting them?”

“Not like we have a choice. Captain Belladonna will massacre all of us if we surrender - bloodthirsty savage.”

“Actually,” a voice murmurs right behind her ear, “you do have a choice.”

Cordovin tries to turn around, but there’s an arm around her neck and a knife against her throat, so she stills. From the corner of her eye, she can only see the white and blue colors of an Atlas uniform. Fear must have taken hold of one of her soldiers. ”How dare you threaten an officer of the Atlas Navy, grunt?” she snarls, between gritted teeth. “Let me go at once, or I will have you whipped.”

A chuckle. “Grunt? Oh, I don’t believe I’ve ever been more insulted in my life, Admiral - and I frequent a rough crowd.” The knife presses harder against her skin, drawing blood. “I am no soldier, but my crew will happily give you a fight if that’s what you want. Or should we resolve this like civilized people?” 

“Your crew?” Cordovin says, confused.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, apologies. Blake Belladonna, captain of the Black Cat. You may have heard of me: I am sometimes described as a bloodthirsty savage.”

The blood drains from Cordovin’s face. “What do you want?” she whispers, weakly. 

***

“I don’t get it. Why haven’t they attacked yet?” Weiss says, furiously pacing on the quarterdeck. Yang shrugs, just as confused. They’ve cautiously approached the scene, and she has a good view through her spyglass. The Black Cat has slid smoothly next to the Iron Boot, but nothing else has happened, no cannon fired, no attempt to board the Atlas ship. 

“Negotiations?” she wonders out loud. 

“The Atlas Navy would never negotiate with pirates,” Weiss dismisses, sharply.

Yang glances at her. Weiss was once part of the Atlas Navy, a promising young officer, before her father threw her out and she ended up on Yang’s ship. She’s always tense when they encounter the Navy. 

“Are we attacking or what?” Ruby asks, impatiently, stepping up the ladder to join them on the quarterdeck. She’s pointing her flint pistol in the direction of the ships. 

“No,” Yang says. “I want to know what Belladonna’s plan is before we do anything.”

She focuses again on the spyglass, studying the situation quietly, until - “There, that’s her.”

In the small circle of the magnifying glass, she watches Blake walk across the gangplank from the Atlas ship to hers, holding another person in front of her. “Hostage?” Yang murmurs, frowning.

The plank is pulled back, and the Black Cat’s crew raises their sails. The ship moves away, slowly. 

“They’re leaving!” Ruby warns. 

“Yeah, I can see that, but why…” Yang cuts herself off as, with one swift, brutal kick, Blake pushes her prisoner overboard.

But this isn’t what leaves Yang open-mouthed and shocked silent. It’s the fact that Blake is waving at her. Clearly aware that she’s being watched. Even worse, she’s full-on smirking. 

For a while, there’s nothing Yang can do but stare. Blake’s black curls are neatly tucked under her tricorn hat, but instead of her usual dark clothes, she’s wearing the uniform of an Atlas soldier - light blue vest opened on a crisp white shirt, white breeches, sturdy boots. Yang may despise the Navy, but damn if their uniform doesn’t look splendid on Blake Belladonna. 

And then, it dawns on Yang exactly why Blake’s grinning : the roll of parchment held tight, victoriously, in her right hand.

***

Later that evening, Yang stands on the upper deck, thinking. The Summer Thorn is anchored in Menagerie Bay, and Kuo Kuana sprawls in front of her, past the docks, beautiful and dangerous. Remnant’s very own capital of piracy, and notoriously neutral territory, is awake with the raucous sounds of pirates drinking, dancing, eating, singing, and in all probability, fucking. Even the lawless roaming the sea need a place to rest.

The night has fallen. Lights twinkle on the shore, from bonfires and taverns. Behind the town looms the dark jungle.

“So that’s it, then,” Weiss says, mournfully. Yang almost jumps ; she didn’t hear her come near. “We lost the map to Salem’s treasure. We’re done.”

“Not yet.”

Weiss rests her elbows on the wooden railing. The moon reflects off her eyepatch, and her white hair. It makes her look otherworldly - like a ghost.

“We can’t fight them in Menagerie, Yang, it’s neutral territory. We’d be banned from the island.”

“Fighting ain’t the only way to get what you want,” Yang says, slowly.

Weiss frowns. “Stealing? That’s almost as bad if we’re caught. And after today, the Black Cat is gonna be well guarded.”

“She won’t have it on the ship.” Weiss looks at her, surprised. Yang grins. “Belladonna is too careful, and too damn proud, to leave the map under anyone’s supervision but hers. She’s definitely keeping it on her person while they’re out tonight, celebrating their victory. And you know what she loves more than winning? Bragging about it. To me, specifically.”

There’s a pause. Weiss raises an eyebrow, as understanding washes over her face. “You don’t mean to… Yang, there’s no way she’s gonna fall for that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. She will fall for me.”

***

Blake sits in a corner of the main room in the Sailors’ Luck tavern. Candles fill the space with dim, flickering light, while the roars of laughter and drunken singing seem to bounce off the stone walls. The air is stale with the smell of sweat and alcohol and unwashed clothes, hot and unpleasantly humid, but Blake has never been happier. They pulled off the whole plan perfectly. 

Sun comes back from the bar with two cups of ale and slides in on the bench beside her. “To another victory!” They clink their glasses. Blake pats the left side of her jacket, feeling the bulky shape of the map tucked in the inside pocket. “You did great today,” she tells Sun, who was in charge of the Black Cat while she was posing as an Atlas soldier on the Iron Boot.

He grins, but before he can answer, the door opens. Captain Xiao Long and the crew of the Summer Thorn walk in, greeted by cheers and shouts. They are a popular bunch among the pirates of Menagerie Bay, respected both for their ruthlessness and their generosity. Xiao Long strides toward the bar, smile locked in place. Blake studies her, tense, looking for signs of a threat. But Yang looks like any other sailor on leave - she’s wearing an old, worn-out brown shirt under a simple sleeveless waistcoat, and the orange sash tied effortlessly around her hips doesn’t conceal any weapons. Even her hook sports an innocent-looking blunt tip. Blake bites her lower lip, mind racing. Yang Xiao Long should be plotting revenge right now, not walking into a tavern like nothing’s wrong and Blake didn’t just steal her prize from under her. 

Across the room, Yang turns around, purposefully looking straight at her. Blake isn’t fast enough to avoid her gaze, and their eyes meet. Shit. Yang grabs two glasses from the bar, and makes her way to Blake, not once looking away.

“Uh oh,” Sun whispers. “Trouble incoming.”

“I can handle her.”

“Captain Belladonna, First Mate Wukong,” Yang greets them with a pleasant smile. “Care if I join you?”

“Take a seat,” Blake says. Sun waves awkwardly.

Yang sits, and pushes one of the drinks towards Blake. “To congratulate you,” she says, looking at Blake unabashedly. ”On such an unexpected win.”

“Don’t drink that,” Sun mutters. Yang raises an eyebrow.

“I would never harm one of our own on neutral territory. And frankly, I resent the accusation.”

“Sure you do.”

Yang’s pleasant demeanor doesn’t change, but, somehow, her smile turns dangerous. The sight does something weird to Blake’s stomach, the way a sudden wave might make her feel briefly unbalanced. “If I wanted to take your captain out, I wouldn’t do it secretly. When I kill, it’s with a blade, not poison. I’m no coward.”

“Is that a threat?” Sun balks, half out of his seat.

Blake grabs his arm, stopping him from reaching for his dagger. “Sun, can you give us a minute?”

“… Fine,” he says, reluctantly.

He sends her one last look before stalking off to the bar. Blake watches him go. Sun is her most loyal friend, and fiercely protective of her. He’s been at her side since the very beginning, when she wasn’t anyone’s captain, and the Black Cat was Adam’s. Blake is thankful for him, always, but sometimes he forgets that she can take care of herself.

And, maybe, she’s looking forward to dealing with Captain Xiao Long on her own.

“So,” Blake says, fingers closing around the cup Yang brought her. She can’t help smirking a bit. “You wanted to congratulate me.”

Yang brings her own cup to her lips. She takes a long gulp. “I don’t know how you did it, but you bested me.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

Yang’s eyes flash with a tinge of red - like a spark of lightning before thunder. Blake’s smirk widens. She loves this. Most pirates in Kuo Kuana fear her, and the rest pity her. They’ve heard the tales of Blake and the Black Cat, how she lead the mutiny against Adam Taurus, how she fought him and killed him and took his place. They’re weary of her. Not Yang, though. In the few years they’ve known each other, competing for the same gold, sailing on the same sea, Yang Xiao Long has been an infuriating rival, yes, but one who treats Blake with respect. And even, sometimes, a sort of playful camaraderie, that…

“How did you learn about the Iron Boot? About the map they carried?” Yang asks, interrupting Blake’s thoughts. She’s leaning back in her chair now, her hook draped on the backrest. The position highlights the muscles of her arms, visible under the tight shirt, the solid knots of her shoulders, the line of her neck. 

Blake sips her drink. “I have my ways.”

She expects Yang’s eyes to flash angrily again, but Yang laughs instead. The sound makes something heat at the bottom of Blake’s stomach. “So mysterious, Belladonna.” She pauses to think.”Was it that girl of yours? The quiet one? Did you send her to eavesdrop on my crew?”

She means Ilia, Blake’s boatswain - and occasional scout. “Maybe,” Blake says, noncommittal. 

Yang licks her lips. “Or was it you?” Blake can’t look away from her mouth, hypnotized, the way they say sailors can’t turn away from the song of sirens. “Sneaking onto my ship, into my cabin, reading my logs, peering over my maps?”

Blake doesn’t deny it, even though she did, in fact, send Ilia. She’s never set foot on the Summer Thorn. Yang’s voice turns husky. “It’s too bad, Belladonna. If I’d known you were there, I would have given you a show.”

“Why would I want that?” Blake protests, unconvincingly.

“Oh, Blake,” Yang says. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?”

Maybe it’s the words, unveiling so carelessly a truth Blake's never even admitted to herself, maybe the voice, low and wicked and tender all at once, maybe simply Yang saying her name for the first time - but Blake finds herself unable to speak. Spellbound. 

“Qrow always saves me a room when I’m in town. Last door on the right - join me for the night, Captain.”

Without waiting for Blake’s response, Yang gets up and makes her way back to the crowded bar. Blake watches her talk to Qrow, the tavern owner, before disappearing up the stairs.

She waits a minute, two, finishes her drink, scans the crowd. Sun is busy flirting with a local. No one is paying attention to her. She follows Yang upstairs.

As soon as she steps inside the room, Yang closes the door behind her. “Is this an ambush?” Blake teases.

“Of sorts.” Yang places her human hand flat against Blake’s stomach, and pushes lightly until her back hits the wall. Blake looks at Yang’s mouth. She feels almost dizzy with desire, imagining those lips on her. Yang steps closer. She rests her hook near Blake’s face, against the wall. There’s a flash of hesitation in her eyes, as she exhales, lips parted, looking at Blake, waiting… Blake grabs the collar of Yang’s shirt, and pulls her down. She’s done with waiting. She has a victory to celebrate.

They kiss. Yang’s lips taste like rum with a faint hint of salt. Blake slides a thigh between Yang’s legs, greedy, and slips her tongue inside Yang’s mouth when she moans. 

It’s a great kiss, so great that when Yang pulls back to breathe, Blake lets out a small whimper of protest. Smiling, Yang brings her hand up to Blake’s face, holding her jaw with warm calloused fingers, staring at her. The wonder in her eyes takes Blake’s breath away, like a kick in the chest. She touches Yang’s hook, softly, the smooth, cold metal, fingers trailing up to the leather gauntlet and the wooden stump, following up Yang’s arm to the hard point of her elbow, the taut muscle of her bicep. Yang swallows. Her cheeks are dusted with pink, and Blake suddenly wants nothing more than to spend days touching her, exploring with her fingertips the fierce Dragon of the seas. For a moment, they slow to a halt, Blake’s hand on Yang’s arm, Yang’s eyes on her mouth, and it feels like they’re on the brink of something - 

And then, Yang spins Blake around so that she’s facing the wall, and Blake doesn’t think about anything anymore but the press of Yang’s warm body against her back.

***

When Blake wakes up, a few hours later, Yang is long gone.

So is the map. 

***

“Xiao Long!”

The voice carries far, reaching the prowl of the ship, and Yang’s ears. She peers over board.

Blake Belladonna stands on the docks in front of the Summer Thorn, framed by Sun Wukong and Ilia Amitolia, long fitted purple coat flowing in the breeze, hair tied under a black tricorn hat with a broad golden brim, two sharp sabers hanging from her belt. Her face is grim, her eyes cold. Yang feels a pang of remorse, which she promptly swallows down.

She tips her own hat. “Captain. What can I do for you?” She puts some charm in her voice, aware of the eyes of her crew on them both. 

Blake glares. “I want the map.”

Yang caresses the wooden railing of the Summer Thorn, nonchalantly. “Which one? I got plenty of ‘em.”

“The one you stole from us!” Ilia retorts, impatiently, raising her flint pistol. Ruby reacts in a heartbeat, her own weapon aimed at Ilia, ready to fire. 

The last thing Yang wants is an outward brawl - not so close to their goal. She puts her hands out, looking at Blake. “I’m sure we can solve this without bloodshed, Captain.”

Blake’s face doesn’t change. “I want a duel. You owe me as much.” Yang considers her. Blake is deadly with a blade, and deadlier with two. She’s never fought her, but she’s watched, and heard enough, to know they are evenly matched. Accepting shouldn’t even cross her mind.

But Blake is right - Yang owes her. She may be a pirate, but it won’t be said she won without honor. And last night felt… She nods. “Deal.”

“Yang, no,” Weiss whispers furiously. “What if you lose?”

Yang grins. “Have you so little faith in me?” To Blake, she yells, “Come aboard, you and your people. Let’s have ourselves a duel, Belladonna.”

In a matter of minutes, the deck is cleared. Yang and Blake face each other in the middle, alone. Everyone else has scattered to the sides, leaving them ample space to move. The rules are simple: the first one to say the words “I surrender” loses. Winner gets the map.

Yang has shed her vest and hat, and rolled the sleeves of her shirt above the elbows, baring the part where her arm ends and the metal hook begins. Her hair is tamed under her orange handkerchief, to keep from falling in her eyes. In her other hand, she twirls her cutlass. 

Blake is wielding both her swords. She watches Yang, lips pressed in a stubborn line. Yang doesn’t know if it’s wishful thinking, or if she really catches Blake’s eyes lingering a bit too long on the dip of her shirt.

But there’s no time for such considerations. Weiss blows her quartermaster whistle - the fight begins.

They circle each other, eyes sharp, careful. Yang tries a few hits. Blake blocks them all easily. not once breaking a sweat. She retaliates, but Yang parries with her blade, and makes her stumble backward.

It’s like that for a while - the two of them testing each other - until Blake suddenly picks up the pace. She darts on the left, twirls around Yang, fences on her right, slashing a line of fire on Yang’s shoulder. She’s so quick, Yang barely dodges her next hit, a stab to the chest. She manages to knock Blake’s sword away, but not before it snags a button off her shirt, leaving her collarbones exposed. 

Blake retreats, a satisfied little smile playing at the corner of her mouth. Yang, breathing a bit heavily, laughs. “Belladonna, you’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want to get my clothes off.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Blake retorts. She’s trying hard for indifference, but Yang notices the way her jaw tightens. She uses the distraction, and charges. 

Blake puts up a good fight, but under the full strength of Yang’s assault, she has no other choice but to fall back. Soon, Yang has her pressed to the railing. She takes a wide swipe at her. Blake, in an impressive demonstration of acrobatic skills, jumps up and backward, feet landing on top of the railing as Yang’s blade sinks into the wood. But the railing is damp with seawater, and Blake slips. Just before she falls overboard, Yang catches her by the belt, stabilizing her. Blake exhales in surprise. Yang winks. "You know, I can think of a few easier ways to get you wet." 

Blake glares. She twists from Yang’s hold, vaults from the railing and reaches the main mast. Yang frees her weapon from the wood. She turns just in time to see Blake dropping her swords, spinning around the mast and using one of the sailing ropes to launch herself at Yang.

She’s unarmed, yet she’s never been more terrifying. There’s nothing Yang can do to evade the attack - Bake is coming too fast. So instead, Yang drops her weapon as well, and opens her arms, catching Blake by the waist as she drives her boots into Yang’s ribcage. They both tumble to the ground in a mess of limbs. Yang’s back hits the planks of the deck, hard. Blake lands on top of her, knocking the air out of her lungs. 

Dizzy, eyes burning with instinctive tears at the pain, Yang doesn’t move. Something small and sharp presses against the skin of her neck. When she looks up, Blake is sitting on her hips, holding a knife to her throat. Yang’s heart beats fast, a mix of adrenaline and fear and something else. Something exhilarating. From so close, she can see the sweat on Blake’s brow, she can feel the flex of Blake’s legs around her. The sun, high in the sky, is eclipsed by the gold of Blake’s eyes. 

Blake smiles. "Not the first time I’ve found you in a compromising position, Captain Xiao Long,” she says, with the smooth satisfaction of someone who thinks they’ve won.

Yang commits this sight to memory, Blake victorious, smug, on top of her. Then she pushes her heels against the deck, grabs Blake’s wrist, twists, and with one powerful jerk, dislodges Blake while making her drop the knife. ”If my memory is correct,” Yang says, wincing as pain flares in her wounded shoulder, “I was the one on top."

There’s a brief scuffle, but Blake’s no match for Yang in hand-to-hand combat. It ends with Blake forced on her knees, the tip of Yang’s hook tilting her chin up. Yang breathes out, once, twice. Her crew is cheering. She did it: the map is hers. And yet…

Blake’s eyes are locked on hers, refusing to look away. She’s not cowering in defeat - quite the opposite. Yang reads defiance in her eyes, and pride in the thin line of her mouth, and suddenly Yang’s heart breaks at the idea of making Blake yield. She can’t do it. She’s not the Navy ; she won’t take pleasure in crushing a brave spirit under her heel for the sake of victory.

So before Blake can say anything, she pulls her hook back, and says, loud enough for everyone to hear, “I surrender”. 

***

Blake follows Yang to her cabin, blood beating in her throat. She’s not sure what she expects, but it’s certainly not the cup of rum Yang offers her. 

She takes it, surveying the room. There’s a bed, in the corner, and a massive desk of polished wood, covered in maps and papers and navigation tools. Yang pushes the mess away from one edge, so she can hop on the desk and sip her own drink.

“Good fight,” she says. Her eyes are on Blake. Her face is sweaty, flushed, eyes still tinted red. Suddenly, Blake can’t look at her. Instead she points at the blood staining Yang’s shirt.

“Are you going to clean that?”

“Later.”

There’s a silence. Blake downs the rest of her drink, and steels her nerves.

“Why did you bring me here?” she demands, calmly. “You could have won.”

Yang’s finger follows the rim of her glass. “I’m… sorry I took that map from you.”

Blake cocks her head. That’s unexpected. Pirates don’t apologize for stealing - it’s what they do.

“I’m especially sorry for the way I did it.” Yang looks up. There’s regret in her eyes, and something underneath it, something raw and powerful and vulnerable that has Blake blinking, her chest hurting with sudden emotion. “But this map is important to me. To my crew. We want to take down the Atlas Navy, Blake. We want to get rid of them once and for all, so we can make the ocean our home without being constantly hunted. But to do that, I need gold.”

She pauses again. Blake’s stomach is bubbling with excitement.

“I need to find Salem’s treasure. And the map I stole from you is our only lead.”

“You want to go after the Navy?” Blake asks, low and hopeful. She’s considered it before, of course - an all-out fight against the people who want them dead - but she never thought they stood a chance. Her wild, joyous, brave, undisciplined crew against the full might and resources of Atlas. 

Yang looks her in the eye. “I do. And I don’t want to have to fight you. I want to fight the Navy with you.”

Blake considers the offer. It’s an easy choice.

“Partners?” she asks, raising her glass.

“Partners,” Yang replies, raising hers. 

And they drink, staring at each other, to new beginnings.

[unicyclehippo]

not to be greedy or anything but that beau/jester convo was Still too short. i mean it was perfect, i just want More

//

Divination

Your magic and offering put you in contact with a god, or a god’s servants. You ask a single question concerning a specific goal, event, or activity to occur within seven days and get a truthful reply. This reply might be a short phrase, a cryptic rhyme, or an omen.

//

The cards are thicker than she thought they would be, and Jester spends a lot of the evening examining them—they’re made of a thick paper, card really, and the edges have been lovingly gilded in sweeping gold and silver paint filagree which is where a lot of the heft comes from, she thinks. And they’re so beautiful and lovely and fascinating and shiny and - and a little creepy. Well. Not creepy like the way bad things are creepy—like big spiders and rotting zombies and the low singing of petrified angels—but, well, these were Molly’s. That’s all.

Her fingers slip carefully over the cards. The hurried thwap of the card on blanket as she turns each card over in quick succession slows, stops.

Learning a new game, are we?

‘It’s not a game. It’s tarot reading. Do you know what tarot are? They’re like, so cool, and Molly read my future the first time we ever met, remember?’

Of course! You drew that picture of him for me. With the serpent and shadow.

‘Yeah!’

Curious, isn’t it? I wonder if the fortune was even for you.

Jester glances up with a frown at her friend, her first friend. His green cloak sweeps at the floor but doesn’t quite touch, or fades away before it can. His smile is ever-present but one edge folds in like a pressed accordian into a lop-sided and thoughtful, almost teasing, smirk.

‘What do you mean? Of course it was for me, he was looking at me, and we killed that massive snake and—‘

Tarot show the future, no? That is what you just told me.

‘Well...yes.’

So it might not have been talking about that serpent but another.

Jester’s brow crinkles. Then, with a gasp, ‘Uka’toa!’

Uka’toa, comes the Traveller’s echoed whisper.

‘And the shadow? That could make be Fjord as well, his snake doesn’t seem like the nicest perso—thing—being.’

No. No it does not. Is that what shadows mean? Things that are bad?

Jester shuffles back on the bed, rests back against the wall as she considers that. ‘I guess not. When I bless Nott with your gift that’s all shadowy and stuff but that’s not bad.’ She smiles up at her friend, who bows, visible pale hand twisting in a dramatic flourish. Jester giggles. ‘Okay, so, this is great! So if the Shadow card isn’t about anything that is bad then...’ She thumbs through the cards to find the Shadow, great roiling clouds of black—no, climbing pillars like smoke—no, an inky black veil. There’s something hidden behind the shadow in the image but when Jester stares too hard, it doesn’t become clearer, it just hurts her head. ‘Something hidden?’

That would be my guess. Can the meaning of the card change?

‘I...think so.’

Hmm. How do we figure out what it means?

Jester scrunches up her lips, an accordion press into a pout. She can’t see it herself, nor would anyone know for they have rarely seen the man, the myth, the legend himself, but the expression is remarkably similar to that which the Traveller bears himself as they both pour over the cards.

‘Will you help me?’

Of course, he says without pause. Then, You know, I don’t think we’ve ever tried to divine before. Would you like to try?

Jester bites at her lip. She’s aware that it isn’t a simple spell, that it would take a bit out of her, but she isn’t fighting tonight so... She nearly pounces on the cards, scoops them back into her deck and meets the Traveller’s eyes—well, the deep shadow beneath his cowl—with a wide and wicked grin, nearly shivering with excitement. She bounces on the bed.

‘Yeah! Let’s do it!’

//

First there is the incense, and then the spell itself. Jester rolls out the mat Beau uses sometimes to meditate—hopes that’s okay—over the small desk in the room and settles in her chair, cards tucked protecively into her chest.

‘Okay. Do I ask the question first? Or do I—‘ She gestures toward the mat, the table, the little pools of silver jewellery she has laid out in an attempt to mimic Molly’s whole situation.

The question, I think. So the cards know your intent.

‘Do I have to say it out loud?’

I don’t know. What do you think?

Jester worries at her bottom lip with sharp teeth. Her tail flicks. ‘I think so.’

Alright. Ask away. One question. Let’s try...something immediate.

‘Like what? The others are going to fight tomorrow night, should I ask about that?’

You could.

‘Or, or—‘ Jester graves against a thought, shakes it away. Realises too late that she has done so in front of the one person who knows her the best. When she opens her eyes from her instant wince, the Traveller is watching her intently. She can feel it, feel the way his brow nocks into place, into an arch of keen interest.

What was that?

‘Nothing!’

Jester...

‘I just—it’s something that’s already happened so it’s not about the future so,’

It doesn’t have to be the question you ask, the Traveller assures her, silky smooth. She knows he’s lying, but,

The incense billows out, wafting in white-smoke columns from the bowls. The scent is cloying, sweet but overpowering, like flowers have been pushed right up into her nostrils. It makes the air a little hazy around her as it curls and coils, and Jester imagines tiger-striped cats and fey creatures stalking through the there-but-not-there smoke.

‘I talked to Beau today,’ she tells the Traveller, who nods. ‘And I asked her if she’d been avoiding me and she says she hasn’t, and she said she, um, trusts my judgement even though I didn’t save her and I think I really screwed up because I told her that she nearly died and I guess she didn’t realise that and now I’m worried all over again that now she’ll, she’ll be angry or worse.’

Worse?

‘Upset,’ Jester tells him, like it’s obvious, because it kinda is. Beau thinking she doesn’t care... Jester swallows hard.

So what’s your question?

‘Um.’ Jester pulls her lips over her teeth, presses them flat as she tries to think of the right question. ‘I guess... Well, I also kind of told her that I had been talking to her dad and I really don’t think she liked that at all,’ Jester says with an uncomfortable laugh, scratches at her throat as she feels the prickling itch of discomfort. ‘Okay okay okay, so, is Beau angry with me? No—wait—how does Beau feel right now? That’s a better one,’ she tells the Traveller, ‘because I get to know more about what she’s thinking about, not just if she’s upset.’ She taps her temple. ‘Smart.’

Indeed. I picked you for a reason,

‘Because I’m funny.’

That, he agrees with a chuckle, and so much more.

The incense billows like the Traveller’s cloak, shifting with a breeze Jester can’t feel. It swirls around her and close and where it touches she can feel it. She’s never felt what sweetness could feel like but now it’s like she can taste it on her arms—sweet and woody like cinnamon or chestnuts or wood chips—like her senses have all been rearranged. And when she glides her fingers over the cards, she doesn’t feel them but instead is almost seeing them, the whorls and eddys of their anchoring in fate and fortune.

[365days365movies]

March 11, 2021: The Seventh Seal (1957) (Part One)

Well, I did Cocteau this month already, so...time for another big boi director, I guess.

I’m sorry for me, too, because this one scares me a little more than Cocteau.

Ingmar Bergman. One of the greatest directors of all time, and the only prominent Swedish director that I’ve ever heard of. Also someone whom I’m DEFINITELY not qualified to judge, but here we are anyway.

Best known for Persona, Fanny and Alexander, and...one more movie, Bergman was an EXTREMELY prolific director, and far more influential on global film than you or I know. Seriously, dude influenced everyone from Martin Scorcese to Terry Jones to Peter Hewitt in one way or another. He’s passed away, as of 2007, at the age of 89. And speaking of Death...

There have been a LOT of incarnations of Death in media. Hell, we literally looked at one two movies ago, in Orpheus. You could argue that Ugetsu also revolved around death, but I’m talking about Death, the physical embodiment of the concept.

Now, the most common incarnation seen is the Grim Reaper (pictured above), but there are MANY other well-known versions. Here, have a few different versions, just for taste.

Yeah, that’s a lot. Kudos if you knew all of them! But that last one...I mentioned Peter Hewitt earlier. He directed Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey, and in it, the two meet that films version of Death, a Swedish-accented ghoul. And if you’ve ever wondered about that, or about this joke from the opening song of Muppets: Most Wanted:

...Well, keep reading. Like I said, Bergman was influential, and perhaps NONE of his films was quite as influential as The Seventh Seal or Det sjunde ingelet. Welcome to a show about Death.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

ONCE AGAIN, The Criterion Collection logo brings us in, followed by the opening credits and music from that should accompany a Dark Souls boss, followed by a quote from Revelation 8:1-6, about the opening of the Seventh Seal. Roll credits?

Well, no. Instead, on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, we meet a knight, resting there and praying to God, as his horses drink from the salt water. This is Antonius Block (Max von Sydow), a knight who is resting here with his squire, Jöns (Gunnar Björnstrand). As Block takes out his chess set, he is joined by...

ALREADY?

Holy shit, I didn’t expect this scene to happen FOUR MINUTES IN??? Dear Lord, if this is happening now, what the hell is the rest of this movie? I am afraid of that answer now.

Anyway, yes, this is Death (Bengt Ekerot). And yeah, dude is indeed a CREEPY motherfucker. He’s been at Block’s side for a long time, but has now finally come for him, at last.

However, Block, ever clever knight that he is, capitalizes on rumors that he’s heard about the character, and challenges him to a game of chess. They start, with Block playing white and Death playing black.

But as they’re about to begin, we cut to Block and Jöns leaving the beach. Huh. OK then, I guess we’ll get back to that, huh? Jöns speaks of ill omens, and they see a pair of corpses, rotted after a long time dead. As their journey continues, we shift focus from them to a small group of actors in a caravan.

One of these actors - Jof (Nils Poppe) - sees a vision of a woman walking with her infant child, as angelic music plays in the background. He runs back to the caravan, where he wakes the sleeping Mia (Bibi Andersson), his wife. He tells her that this was the Virgin Mary and her baby boy, Jesus. Um...wow. Holy shit, my man.

Mia takes her husband’s vision as his active imagination, while he takes it as pure fact. Apparently, he’s very prone to having these kinds of visions. Mia warns him to tamp those visions down, or people will think him a fool. All of this rouses both fellow actor Jonas Skat (Erik Strandmark), and Jöns and Mia’s infant son Mikael (a cute chubby baby).

The troupe is on their way to Einsmore, performing for a group of priests. They will perform in a play about Death, once again making me think about Beetlejuice the Musical, which is really need to watch.

Block and Jöns arrive at a church, where real-world painter Albertus Pictor (Gunnar Olsson) is painting a Danse Macabre. Jöns asks why paint something so...well, macabre, and Pictor notes that it’s not a bad thing to remind people that they will die. This is especially as the Black Plague sweeps across Europe. YUP. IT’S THAT TIME PERIOD.

The two speak more on the absolute HORROR of the Bubonic Plague, a topic that clearly bothers Jöns. Meanwhile, Block goes to pray in a confessional, where he reveals that he doesn’t truly understand the point of prayer in this world. He’s clearly struggling with his faith, which must be HELL for a knight. And he delivers these confessions to his ever-present companion: Death.

Block wants God to speak to him directly, and questions whether or not God truly exists. He wants to do one last, meaningful thing before he meets his inevitable end. Block hasn’t yet realized that he’s speaking with Death, and openly talks about the chess game they began that morning. Death replies that they will continue their game in a nearby inn. This is how Block intends to prolong his own life.

He goes back out to meet Jöns, who’s still speaking with the painter, and the two leave the church. Directly outside, a woman is in the stocks, and is preparing to be burnt at the stake for learning carnal knowledge of Satan. She’s also being blamed for being the cause of the Black Plague itself. Just gotta say, big if true, goddamn. Black wants to know if she’s met the Devil himself, but she’s not quite all there.

Block and Jöns continue their journey, making their way from farmlands. Jöns goes into one of the barns in a village, where a dead body lies. He then hides as another man enters, and steals jewelry from the woman’s corpse. This is Raval (Bertil Anderberg), and he’s quickly caught in the act by a mute woman (Gunnel Lindblom).

However, before he can do anything to this poor girl, he’s stopped by Jöns, who recognizes him from the seminary, ten years prior. He tells him to shove off, and offers the mute woman a place as his housekeeper. And, uh...yeah, Jöns is kind of a dick, but more of a cad, y’know? He’s not likeable, but he also isn’t hateable.

In town, the actors’ troupe is performing, and the leader of the troupe - Skat - is seduced by a woman during the performance, and they have sex in the bushes behind the stage. As all of this is happening, the performance is interrupted by a group of flagellants, extremist priests that whip themselves and parade through the town, showing their extreme devotion to their faith. Fuckin’ yikes, this is a thing that ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

And as these people, devoted in their faith and pain, march through the town, the townspeople are moved to tears by this act. And this act has real blood, sweat, and tears poured into it. The head priest of the parade then gives a fatalist sermon to the townsfolk, noting that death will come for them all with the plague, and berating them for their seeming ignorance of their fate.

And dude is MEAN. He mocks people’s appearance, and screams to all of them that they’re doomed, and will die painful deaths. Watching on is not only the actors’ troupe, but also Block, Jöns, and the mute girl (yeah, she never gets a name, goddamn it). The pain parade moves on, singing their solemn hymns all the way. And I’m not gonna lie...it’s intense. Especially knowing that this shit actually HAPPENED? Damn.

Once they pass, Jöns notes his disbelief at this display, never believing how far people will go, or the stories that they’ll tell. He’s interrupted by blacksmith Plog (Åke Fridell), who’s looking for his wife. Meanwhile, inside, a group of townspeople talk about the spreading plague, and wonder if this is the end times indeed. Plog comes in and asks Jof where his wife is. He also doesn’t know, but it’s revealed that this is the woman that Skat ran off with in the bushes. The conversation is joined by thief Raval, who outs Jof as an actor, and a friend of Skat.

Raval and Plog both threaten him for information on Skat and Lisa’s whereabouts, and humiliate him in front of the entire tavern. It’s actually quite hard to watch as well. This poor, poor guy, who seems like a nice enough dude, is essentally tortured for the transgressions of his asshole friend. But it’s interrupted by Jöns, who stops Raval in his tracks, and slashes his face, which he said he’d do if he ever saw him again.

Excellent spot for Part 2, I think! See you there!

[404fmdhaon]

aesthetic & headcanon — re[gone] analysis of each song

summary: re[gone] is the title of haon’s first full-length album. each song becomes something personal that dives into gyujeong’s own versions of freud’s theory. id becomes the ‘i’m so sad, boohoo.’ sad boy hours. ego becomes ‘life’s whatever’. and superego becomes ‘hahaha im on top of the world, fuck you all.’ rebellion, sadness — he calls it a mix of what the past decade’s been. elaboration on the songs below. (yes i know that’s not correct freudian psychology, but im saying it’s how gyu separates the songs into threes). warnings: none wc: 1569

middle fingers up

middle fingers up is the opener of the album and falls into the big ‘fuck you against the world’ type deal. it’s almost cheery in nature if you just listen to the beat, but the lyrics dig a lot deeper into how gyu feels as an idol.

he doesn’t have many friends to begin with, but that doesn’t stop people from approaching him and wanting to be “friends” which he just sees as a business transaction. because for the most part, he’s kept to himself. yet, doesn’t see why that would make people want to be his friend aside from the ‘he’s in knight’ factor

so it’s his fuck you song where he tells people to shove it. eat it. because in the end, what he’s left with is that ‘i don’t need you’ attitude. i’d see it more as a defense mechanism because he just doesn’t want to let people in? so he puts on this fake bravado of i don’t need you.

artist

artist is what he calls the thing between ‘i’m on top of the world’ and ‘life’s whatever.’ this song was written with his friend, and mentioned before in past headcanons it was meant to give his npc friend more clout so that his friend could make a living from music

it’s a fun song, a very serious juxtaposition of very different sounds. as a result, at first listen it’s not that good to the ears when you hear it without the lyrics / vocals.

this was the song that was finished the fastest in the span of one night? and after performing it many times on shows, it’s just not his favorite to perform. the styling was not his forte either as bc put this weird outfit that just seemed to not fit with what he envisioned

but he will say, the royalties his friends are getting makes him proud.

omen

omen is another ‘fuck you’ song to the world. it’s meant to be a response to everyone in the underground community who has looked down upon him for being an idol rapper

it’s saying that they’re the ones complaining about him, yet the ones that are trying to be like him. this goes in his top three from this album, and one he begged bc to let him release because at first bc was like ‘idk.. it kinda doesn’t sound as bc as we want.’

however, the result of this song made the underground rappers he was targeting release a diss track? and though he wants to respond to it, it seems unlikely seeing as how he’s still an idol

this one does not get accepted well by knight’s fan base but does drive attention from the underground children

phone ft. jiah

originally, gyu didn’t have anyone in mind for the feature. just knew he wanted a feature, so when the song was given to bc to analyze — they decided to push the “bc family image” between him and jiah (natural blonde line holla). as a result, jiah became the feature 

though gyu wouldn’t admit, the song does become better because of jiah’s vocals.

it’s a story written in the lyrics, autobiography? not really, well kind of. there’s bits and traces of his own life inside the song where discussions about a fight / lapse of communication of the girl picking fights because she hasn’t figured herself out

that frustration? he’s felt it many times in the past with his first love, and that in turn made this song — though, he no longer harbors those frustrated feelings towards her anymore. he just misses her.

let’s not love anymore

this is a more singing rap song, as he wanted to involve as many genres as he could in one album. mainly because it was a hail mary, and he didn’t know when his next opportunity would be? 

the singing rap fit this song well enough, and it becomes a song where he highlights the hopeless romantic in him? he fell for someone who used to be a close friend, and the song was written during the “some” phase, where they were in limbo to the point they didn’t know what they were or a will-they or wont-they dynamic

explains the concept of ‘why we should not be in love’. and mini-memoirs of things he’d do while he was falling into place. though the person and him ended up badly to the point where they don’t talk anymore, gyu still enjoys the song because it teaches him to 1) never act upon feelings and 2) stop writing sad love songs.

take care of you

i’m going to keep this short and simple that this song is the most personal one on his album. the song he loves the most, yet hurts the most to sing. as a result, he doesn’t want to touch it but instead it was released for the person whom it was written about to hear.

the mv was low budget via bc. (gyu doesn’t care. just wants her to hear it).

beautiful

beautiful is another on the sad love song train list, only it’s not so sad. in retrospect, he finds it sad? because he was a lovelorn schmuck when he wrote it — that feeling of love he hasn’t experienced again. and that in turn causes him to cling on?

the piano use is frequent in a majority of the songs but i think it’s most prevalent in this track mainly because it dealt with parts of his past where the person whom it was written about knew about his family ties and he ties starting music to her. 

fun fact: this is the song that suddenly makes fans all ‘look at how romantic haon is.’ and leads to some speculation as to who the girl is (newsflash: it’s not an idol — but his fans don’t know that)

aslyum

very similar to omen — it has a nice singing portion to the chorus which gyujeong wanted to keep for fluidity of the songs. 

however, despite the easy listening it becomes a song more towards omen and the ‘fuck you all’. only this time it’s a response to when people in the underground community ask if it’s nice living life at the top

idol life isn’t all what it is, and hence how the song came about. wanted to express that life at top is lonely, and that people should not judge based on what’s flashed on tv. however, he doesn’t bet anyone got that since most fans skip over the song (for what he’s been told).

downtown baby

maybe it was all a dream? but this song was inspired by his one night stand in berlin. he basically never indulges in those but there was something enticing about the woman, reminded him of a girl from his past. 

she spurred a week long escapade? where he thought it was in love. but it started as quickly as it ended, and he lost contact with her altogether. in reality, he still debates whether it was a dream, vivid and full or whether it was real. wonders how she does time to time.

the charming point of the song is the easy singalong, and the addicting hook? which he didn’t intend on making that way, but it fell that way when he found himself singing the songs long after recording.

he’d give this song a personal 7/10. high-mid range on his album, but bc loves the outcome bc 1) it feeds into knight bad boy image and 2) it does well

meteor

once again this was done with an npc friend in the underground scene. gyujeong wanted something triumphant, and it’s embarrassing but he used to listen to one republic a lot as a kid in boarding school. fell upon their music, and that subconsciously inspired the general beat of the song

the song becomes his ode to how far he’s come, and how the difficulty of an uphill battle lead him here. it’s starts off showing off his material goods and throwing a huge party in the mv, but in the end what becomes is his declaration that he’s the meteor that will break the world

high self-esteem in this song, but it’s really not real. he just felt in that moment weightless because he was with good company, and the vibes were good

the best part about this song is that his friend saved up enough money to buy a car and start producing for other big names. and gyujeong gains secondhand satisfaction from that

superstar

meteor was the come up, superstar was the come down back to reality. superstar talks also about a lot of material goods — people always talk about the money knight makes and how nice it must be to live large, etc.

however, gyujeong combats these stereotypes talking about how it’s nice yeah — and he’s this bigshot doing all these things. yet, there’s a cry out for help. 

in retrospect, this is his cry for help where he wants someone. anyone to listen. because the more fame dwells upon him, the more pressures become heightened and he feels more isolated from the world around him

he acknowledges his position and his privilege but still finds life lonely — another song making him wonder if people got the actual meaning of the song.

this also makes his top three on his album.