#like. of them all but neil oh my fucking gOD

[alwaysshallow]

thinking of him

[stellewriites]

just watched deadpool 3 and i think this film was made with 14 yo me in mind specifically

[kittenscookie]

Currently thinking of omegaverse epic Au where Omega Odysseus is constantly fighting off his alpha suitors. My thought process is Penelope's a beta and it's common for omega kings to take a second spouse that can...well you get the picture. Anyway one day he's just trying to enjoy himself at the beach (skinny dipping in the tides) when a few of the suitors pull up like "Heeeeeeey~". So Odysseus finally snaps and says something along the lines of "The only alpha who could be worthy of an omega such as myself would be Poseidon!"

"Oh really~?"

Thunder rumbles above them, they all look up, and there sits Zeus on his throne of women shaped clouds (did I watch Neil Illustrators God Games animatic earlier, maybe). Looking smug and putting on his best bedroom eyes,

"What about Zeus, king of the gods~?"

Odysseus considers it for like 0.5 seconds, before swallowing nervously and essentially saying "I said what I said". Zeus is completely taken aback, absolutely dumbstruck as Poseidon finally busts from the sea, grabs Odysseus by the hips and basically goes "HA! Now fuck off jackass he's mine!"

[cursed-rat-of-homosexuality]

Okay so uhhh... visions came upon me and this was the result lol

Based on this absolute atrocity (affectionate... kind of)

[ID: A fourteen panel comic done in grayscale based on a Twitter thread from David Jenkins.

First panel: Neil Gaiman is surrounded by a crowd of fans, a bright spotlight is shining on top of him. One of the fans points a microphone in his direction and says "Mr. Gaiman! How would describe season two using only three words?"

Second panel: A close up shot of Neil, he smiles and says "Uhh... I'd say it's quiet, gentle, and romantic". "Romantic" is written in a flourished cursive font. There are little floating red hearts surrounding him.

Third panel: A shot of the crowd of fans saying "Awww" in unison, there are little hearts floating around. They find it adorable.

Fourth panel: A black screen titled "At David Jenkins' Twitter"

Fith panel: David Jenkins is sitting in table far away from the point of view, at the center of the image, a spotlight is shining on top of him. There is a crowd of fans forming a semi-circle around him, they are squished against one another, stoping at the little fence that is surrounding the table . A fan standing near the front says " I LOVE U... three words to describe season 2?"

Sixth panel: A close up shot of David Jenkins, he is sitting with both elbows proped up on the table, supporting his head with his hands. The harsh light is shining in on him, he looks serious and solemn. His head is tilted down but his eyes are looking directly at the camera, the whites of his eyes make a stark contrast against his shadowed figure. He says " Fucking sweet...".

Seventh panel: The shot is arranged in the same way as in fifth panel. David Jenkins is far away, sitting at his table , the fans are surrouding him in a semi-circle. The fan near the front replies "Give us one more word David"

Eight panel: A huge shock wave tilts the crowd back. All lights are out, except for the spotlight shining in on David Jenkins. David's arms are unnaturally elongated in a spider-like way, fiercely gripping the table with both hands.

Ninth panel: David lauches into the crowd. The point of view remains the same, but now his head is extremely close up the camera. He emphatically says "FUCKING"

Tenth panel: The scene is seen from the side, now we can see that David still remains sitting at his table, but his neck is extended in a long unnatural arch. He is directly looking at the fan from before, his head on top of them. The fan still has the microphone poiting in David's direction. A new spotlight is shining in on both of them. David says, "SWEET"

Eleventh panel: A close up shot of the crowd. The camera lies a little ways below David's head, only the bottom of it is visible. We see that the fan with the microphone is crouched and almost completely tilted back. The fan is looking directly at Jenkins. The crowd continues squished together, watching intently with shocked faces. David continues, saying "YOU"

Thirteenth panel: The shot is arranged in the same way as in the previous panel. David continues, saying "SLUTS". The letters are written in an emboldened font. The crowd is completely shocked, but also weirdly flattered, all of them are blushing.

Fourteenth panel: David Jenkins goes back to sitting at his table, in a movement similar to a metal spring coiling up again after being streched out. He is sitting far away from the camera, at the center of the image. The fans forming a semi-circle around him. They continue blushing, with some assorted murmurs of bafflement as in "oh my god", "dude what" and "why". /END ID]

[abbyshands]

PALESTINE LINKS

in honor of the media blackout this week, i wanted to compile a list of links and resources regarding what’s going on in gaza. i advise all of you to give these links a look at, or to at least reblog them. the people in gaza need the bare minimum from us in that sense. &, well, if you can’t take enough time out of your day to give these links at least a look, a like, or share, then, bye !

& for all the the last of us fans out there, you need to see this. it’s genuinely a must. not to call anyone out, but i see a lot of people who have not spoken out about this at all, who, for example, keep publishing or reblogging fics etc during the blackout. i love a good fic as much as anyone else, but you can wait a week. there’s really no excuses here. if you didn’t know about the previous blackout, then now is your chance. don’t turn a blind eye to this.

at the end of this post are links specifically for those engaged in the last of us tumblr. if you aren’t going to look at the links before that, then at least look at those.

oh, & for the dumbasses who are unfollowing me for spending a week to post about a fucking genocide? fuck you, & good fucking riddance. you are not and never were welcome on my page. i don’t want you here anyways!

PALESTINE LINKS

SEVERAL ways you can help the people in gaza. some of which are fully free.

SEVERAL links regarding info around this genocide, such as places to boycott, and ways to learn more about the nature of it all.

SEVERAL ways you can help, including ways to donate, petitions you can sign, and campaigns you can join.

places you NEED to boycott. don’t buy from them, regardless of if they really fund israel or not. if they support them, that is more than enough. boycotting is a way to resist, so do it. at the end of this post are also places that are helping those who are in gaza, and families you can help escape by donating.

know that this issue did NOT begin oct. 7th. this is so much deeper than you know, and has been going on for 70+ years. click the above link to educate yourself on that front.

CLICK HERE TO HELP PALESTINE! this site has already been debunked on if it really helps the people in gaza or not, and it does. just one click is all you need. one button, once per day. you can even do it on different devices or browsers so you get more than one click in. click it daily!

CALL YOUR REPRESENTATIVES using this link, and this link (this will help you find ways to call or email them depending on where you live). also, urge biden and congress to do right by the people in gaza. the U.S. sends billions of dollars to israel every year, funding the genocide that’s ensuing as we watch on from the comfort our homes. do the bare minimum, & hold them accountable. please.

HERE ARE WAYS YOU CAN DONATE or find a PROTEST near you! not everyone is readily available to do these things, i know that. but looking into them could never hurt, or at least sharing it elsewhere so there is more awareness surrounding it.

LEARN OF AFRO-PALESTINIAN EXPERIENCES, & the efforts they have made over the years. i think it’s so, so crucial that we hear their voices, &, god, learning of all that they’ve been through, & all that they’ve done, is so inspiring.

here is some more info regarding BOYCOTTING. boycotting does, and has been proven to work. this post explains the subject a bit more in case it happens to confuse anybody, along w/companies and such that need to be boycotted, & why. as i said before, boycotting is a way to resist. so do it!

HERE IS A 🇵🇸 MASTERLIST including ways to educate yourself, donate, books you can read, & films you can watch. this is one of the best links i have regarding this genocide, and i highly recommend you look at it!

SOUTH AFRICA took israel to court for this genocide! read about it in the above link.

FOR THE LAST OF US FANS

do not remain in the dark about the last of us’s link to the ongoing conflict in gaza. neil druckmann, the director of the game, is a ZIONIST. he grew up in israel, and TLOU2 is rooted in israeli themes. now, no one is saying you have to quit playing the game, or dislike it, for all you dense ones out there. but i ask that you remain aware of this aspect of it, especially if you are regularly engaged in the last of us tumblr.

this is a link that i highly, highly recommend you read through. it discusses the HEAVILY ISRAELI THEMES TLOU2 displays. click the following link to learn more on TLOU2 & NEIL DRUCKMANN.

DO NOT BUY TLOU, TLOU REMASTERED, TLOU2, TLOU2 REMASTERED, OR ANY GAME FROM ND! neil druckmann has donated money to the IDF in the past. & where do you think he’s getting his money from? yeah, you got that. watch gameplays, pirate these games, or buy them secondhand. several shops sell used games. & for those of you who went and purchased the game anyway, knowing about all of this? fuck you.

if you think your $10 doesn’t matter, then think about this: okay, one person spends $10 on the game. whatever. but when 100,000 people do it? that’s a million dollars, going into the hands of a zionist, who is using YOUR money to help kill innocent men, women, and children. put that in your pipe and smoke it.

it is not just the games you need to boycott. HBO’S show also needs to be. follow this link to learn of more movies and shows you need to boycott, & the reasons why, including the last of us. let’s also not forget that dina & abby’s actresses are in support of israel, and BELLA RAMSEY, ellie’s actress, has also shown support.

boycott. the fucking. show. there are a million websites where you can pirate it, so you are not giving any of your support to it. resist.

i understand that not everyone is educated on this subject, and that not everyone knew of the previous media blackout. for the last of us fans, i understand that not everyone knew about the game or show’s israeli nature. but it is never too late to take part. it is never too late to care. i promise you that. if you purchased the game, at least donate to one of the sources above. that’s just bare minimum.

get educated, get loud, & GET PROUD! these are innocent people who are dying as you read this from your bed, couch, whatever. the least you can do is like & reblog so this reaches more people. your voice matters, big account or small.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE 🇵🇸🍉

[ineffable-romantics]

Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

___________________________________

Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

[catboygretzky]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

1/?

👑 girlbossriko follow

how many bro jobs do you think it took before riko moriyama and kevin day realized that uh.....maybe this wasn't just a bro thing

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

how many times do they have to come out and say they're like brothers before you freakos stop shipping them

👑 girlbossriko follow

????? do i know u

#it's a tumblr post about two exy players that you'lll never meet in your life it really isn't that deep

558 notes

💃fox-me-up follow

ngl that newest fox is kinda 👀

#psu lb #exy lb

8 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

The NARRATIVE that kevin day and neil josten have........son of exy! scouting the rookie-est of rookies from fuck knows arizona........no listen you dont GET IT winning is EVERYTHING TO KEVIN and he would risk it on the foxes? And NEIL? who has only played exy for a year! NEIL Gets his attention!!!!! And hes good and he's getting better every game and he keeps bitching about kevin's ex on live tv BUT WAIT!???? NOT QUITE WHAT YOU EXPECT! Bc then neil shows up with a number on his cheek BECAUSE WELL it turns out they've known each other since they were KIDS! how is everyone not insane w me THEY'RE LITERALLY PERFECT

#where r my fellow njkd truthers #how r u all not here with me this isnt even the start #kevneil #210 #psu #njkd

102 notes

☀️ usctrojanny

every smiley blonde striker (jeremy knox) needs a brunette wet cat emotional support backliner (jean moreau)

#jerejean #usc trojans #i'm just saying 🤷‍♀️

58 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

did he just......

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

guys please tell me i'm not insane

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

HE'S NEVER BEEN????? SKIIING???? KEVIN WHAT DOES THAT MEAN ?????? KEVIN PLEASE

#i i'm going insane i will literally die if someone doesn't explain this to me HE'S NEVER BEEN SKIING?!!!!

407 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

oh....i'm feeling so weak......it'd sure be nice to have a big strong goalie (renee walker) hold me up (renee if you're free on tuesday i am also free on tuesday.........on tuesday this tuesday, any tuesday?)

#literally passing out just thinking about her holding me don't call don't text i'm busy

84 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

do u think if u offered kevin day essential oils to heal his hand he'd beat you to death

#it'd be hard for him bc he only has one hand but he could probably do it #legally this is a joke don't do this

284 notes

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

feeling normal

215 notes

📜 realexyblog

actually exy rpf is fine, i asked kayleigh day herself and she told me it was fine

112 notes

🐋 sexyexy

'exy is a stupid name for a sport' have you considered that a) i don't care and b) it's named that solely so i can make sex jokes about it

11 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

is he, ya know *mimes jerking off* an ncaa exy player

#i don't believe that straight exy players exist

56 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard!!!!!!! 🥰🥰 short king!!!!🤏🤏😋😋 Awwwwwwww the scrunkly!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗 My boinky boy!!!!!🥺🥺 Crinkly doo,,,,shronkle scrimblo......🥺🥺🥺 rb if you'd scrunkle!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

📖 sapphic-exy follow

he literally killed someone

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#also no proof he did that #yeah there's proof his twin bro killed someone but that's not the same bc theyre different people #almost killing someone doesnt count

807 notes

🐦‍⬛ edgarallenexy

got told i'm problematic for liking the ravens? THAT'S LITERALLY MY SCHOOL OH MY GOD

2 notes

🌸 softexy

Kevin Day - A Study

#kevin day #psu foxes #palmetto foxes #exy #web weave #poetry #psu foxes #palmetto #edgar allen

378 notes

[ninyard]

I don't know if you've taken this into account for your trial posts, but if the prosecution requested Kevin's/the house's phone record that day they could found out he called Wymack before the police. And that could not look Good especially with his deadpan 911 call

i had thought about this and i don’t think i’m going to mention it but it’s SUCH a striking point i actually love it. i wasn’t going to bring it up purely because i’m not putting kevin on the stand, but it’s such a good reason as to why i could put him on the stand. like perfect kevin day trying to explain why he’d seen a dead body and called wymack before anything else? and how that phone call went as well? what if they played it?

-

“Take a breath and spit it out, kid.” Wymack’s voice is getting more and more strained with every second that passes and Kevin just can't get the words dislodged from his throat. How could he, when all he could smell was blood, and alcohol, when all he could hear was Andrew’s voice in his head saying tell me again how I'm too unbalanced to understand normal brotherly affection and love.

“Something happened.” Kevin tries not to watch as Nicky’s parents pass him, faces pale and hands shaking. He can’t hold himself together, when he opens his mouth to explain, all that falls out is a muted sob accompanied by, “Oh, fuck, Coach, it’s really fucking bad.”

Kevin winced as he heard Nicky start to sob somewhere upstairs, and David must have heard it too, because his voice was much more serious when he asked, "Who's hurt?"

It's the perfect question, almost, but that doesn't make it easier to answer.

"Andrew."

“How hurt are we talking?”

“I don’t know.” Kevin’s chest is getting tight. Not right now. Not now. He takes in a shaky deep breath, as much air as he can muster. He continues, “Somebody’s dead.”

“Fuck, Kevin, who’s fucking dead?” He sounds angry. No, he’s worried, he’s terrified. Which one of my foxes is it?

“I don’t know.” He repeats. He watches as Nicky’s parent fuss over something in the kitchen. “I don't know, I don’t know.”

“Dead, how?” David says, before he says something, presumably to Abby. Kevin's breath comes in and out of his lungs in painful, jagged intervals. This is too much, he can't do this, he can't do this. “Kevin, I need you to talk to me.”

“Aaron.” He cant say the words. “Somebody was- oh my god.” He feels his chest tighten, and tighten, and tighten. A twisting stomach accompanied by a pounding chest and fuck, the smell of blood, and alcohol, and-

“Breathe.” David says again, like it’s really that simple. “You have to tell me what’s going on so I can help you, kid.”

“Call Betsy.” It’s the only thing he can think to say. But when he thinks of Bee, he thinks of Andrew, he thinks of the body lying upstairs. He thinks of- “I don’t know what to do, David.”

There’s a moment of silence, and David is forced to listen to Kevin’s quiet hyperventilating. “Is Aaron dead?”

Kevin almost laughs. “No.”

Wymack's sigh is gentle, but louder than anything else, the sound weighing on Kevin's shoulders like the secret he felt like he was keeping, the secret he felt like he couldn't share. It's not exasperation, no, his annoyance is not directed at Kevin's panic or inability to find the words. It's worry, it's fear, it's being too used to those kinds of phone calls. It's too soon after Allison's Seth is dead, Coach, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

“Is Andrew? Is Neil?”

“No.” He says. The words are right there, he tries to swallow them down hard, but they keep getting stuck in his throat. Just say it. Just say it.

"Nicky?" He's getting impatient. But Kevin knows it's not directed at him. It can't be. "Work with me, Kev. Just say it."

"Andrew's been...r-" The tears that threaten to spill out swell in his eyes, the tightness at the back of his throat manifesting in a sigh, an exhale of breath that he had been holding for far too long. Kevin shut his eyes so he couldn't look at Nicky's parents, and following a deep breath that he hoped would fix everything, he says, "Andrew's been raped, and Aaron killed the guy that did it."

The silence that follows goes on for hours, for far too long. For long enough that Kevin has to check that David hasn't hung up on him, for long enough that he starts to think about it all, all over again.

"Jesus Christ, Kevin." is all that David can muster, in this voice Kevin has only heard once before, as he sat sobbing in his hotel room with no plan and no reason to live. He stumbles through a hundred different questions until he lands on, "Have you called the cops yet?"

"No." Kevin admits with a guttural sob. He hasn't even thought about it. Well, he did, in some way, but his fingers hadn't even hesitated over David's contact number. It hurts so badly, all of these feelings, the image of Andrew, the image of Andrew, the image of Andrew. His protector. The person who kept him safe. This was never supposed to happen to him. This can't have happened. Not to him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, kid, get off the fucking phone," David's yell snaps him out of it. "Get it together, take a real deep breath, and call 911. Then call me back afterwards. Fuck, Kevin."

"Okay, Coach." Kevin says, as seriously as he can manage. Call 911 - An order, something to follow. Something to do. Something to be good at, to pretend for, a reason to shove his panic behind a plastic mask for a couple of minutes.

"Okay." Coach agrees and lets out another deep, hurt sigh. Another second or two pass, but Kevin feels frozen in place. The phone is stuck to his ear, the electronic hum and buzz the only thing keeping him from going back to the reality of Nicky's parent's house.

"Are you okay?" Coach asks, and Kevin shuts his eyes to inhale, before exhaling out anything that hurts. He's switched off, untouchable, numb and unfeeling. Kevin isn't there, inside of himself anymore. He can come back later.

"No," Kevin says, but it doesn't feel like the truth anymore, his voice flat, the back of his free hand wiping away a tear that had found its way out of his eyes. "But I'll call you back."

"Okay," Coach says again. "You better."

The phone call ends with three consecutive beeps. Kevin pulls it away from his ear, and stares for too long at the 911 he's typed into the keypad.

Do what you have to do.

Be who they need you to be.

"Hello, 911, what's your emergency?"

[beerok23]

D: And then he came to offer you the part in Good Omens? M: Yeah, well, we became friends and we would, you know, whenever he was in town, we would meet up. And then eventually he started. He said, you know, I'm working on an adaptation of Good Omens. I remember at one point Terry Gilliam was going to maybe make a film of it. And I remember being there with Neil and Terry when they were talking about it. D: Were you involved at that point? M: No, I wasn't involved. I just happened to have met up with Neil that day. D: Right.

M: And then Terry Gilliam came along and that was the day they were talking about that or whatever. And then eventually he sent me one of the scripts for an early draft of, like, the first episode of Good Omens. And he said, we started talking about me being involved in doing it. He said, 'Would you be interested?' I was like, 'Yeah, of course I would. Oh, my God.' And he said, 'Well, I'll send you the scripts when they come.' And I would read them and we talk about them a little bit. So I sort of was involved. But it was always at that point with the idea, because he'd always said about playing Crowley in it. And as time went on, as I was reading the scripts, I was thinking, I don't think I can play Crowley. I don't think I'm going to be able to do. And I started to get a bit nervous because I thought, 'I don't want to tell Neil that I don't think I can do this'. But I just felt like, I don't think I can play Crowley. D: Of course you could play Crowley. M: Well, just on a sort of - on a gut level, you know, sometimes you have on a gut level, you go - D: Sure, sure. M: I can do this. D: Yeah. M: Or I can't do this. M: And I just thought, you know what? This is not the part for me. The other part is better for me. I think. I think I can do that. I don't think I could do that. But I was scared to tell Neil because I thought, well, he wants me to play Crowley. And then it turned out he had been feeling the same way as well, and he hadn't wanted to mention it to me. But he was like, 'I think Michael should really play Aziraphale'. And neither of us would bring it up. And then eventually we did. And it was one of those things where you go, 'Oh, thank God you said that. Oh, I feel exactly the same way'. D: Yeah. M: And then I think within a fairly short space of time, he said, 'I think we've got David Tennant for Crowley.' D: *Chuckles* M: And we both got very excited about that. And then all these extraordinary people started to joining up. And then off we went. D: The other thing about Neil, he collects people, doesn't he? So he'll just go, oh, yeah, I phoned up Francis McDormand. She's up for it. Yeah. And you're 'What-Wait-What?' M: I emailed John Hamm. D: Yeah. M: And you realize how beloved he is and how beloved his work is. And I think we would both recognize that Good Omens is one of the most beloved of all of Neil's stuff. D: Yes. M: And had never been turned into anything. D: Yeah. M: And so the kind of responsibility of that, I mean, for me, for someone who has been a fan of him and a fan of the book for so long, I can empathize with all the fans out there who are like, oh, they better not fuck this up and this better be good. And I have that part of me, but then, of course, the other part of me is like, but I'm the one who might be fucking it up. So I feel that responsibility as well.

D: But we have Neil on site. M: Yes. Well, Neil being the showrunner - D: Yeah. M: I think it takes a massive difference. You feel like you're in safe hands. D: Well, we think. Not that the world has seen it yet. M: No, I know. D: But it's been a joy to work with you on it. M: Oh, my goodness. D: I can't wait for the world to see it. M: Well, I mean, I've done a few things where there are two people. It's a bit of a double act, like Frost-Nixon some more, and The Queen, I suppose in some ways, and I've done - Amadeus or whatever. This is the only thing I've done where I really don't think of it as my character or my performance as that character. I think of it totally as us, the two of us. D: Yes! M: What I do is defined by what you do. That was such a joy to have that experience. And it made it so much easier in a way as well, I found, because you don't feel like you're on your own in it. Like it's totally us together doing this. And the two characters totally complement each other. And the experience of doing it was just a real joy. D: Well, I hope the world is as excited to see it as we are to talk about it, frankly.

M: You know. Having talked about T. S. Elliott earlier, there's another bit from The Waste Land where there's a line which goes, "These fragments I have shored against my ruin". And this is how I think about life now. There is so much in life, no matter what your circumstances, no matter where you've got, what you've done, how much money you got, all that. Life's hard. It can take you down at any point. You have to find this stuff. You have to find things that will. These fragments that you hold yourself, they become like a life raft. And especially as time goes on. I think as I've got older, I've realized it is a thin line between being surviving this life and going under and the things that keep you afloat are these fragments, these things that are meaningful to you. And what's meaningful to you will be not meaningful to someone else. But whatever it is that matters to you, it doesn't matter what it was you were into when you were a teenager, a kid. Doesn't matter what it is. Go and find them and find some way to hold them close to you. Make it go and get it. Because those are the things that keep you afloat. They really are, like doing that with him or whatever it is. These are the fragments that have shored against my ruin. Absolutely. D: That's lovely. Michael, thank you so much. M: Thank you. D: For talking today and for being here. M: It's a pleasure. D: Thank you.

This podcast is so underrated. I heard it tonight for the first time, and it blew my mind. The episode was published back in April 2019 (recorded after a photoshoot for Good Omens season 1). Listen to these babies, starting to knowing and respecting each other *_* Of course, Michael Sheen was probably the greatest fan of Neil and Good Omens out there, but the joy and the excitement was already there to feel, from both of them!

And Michael saying "The Two of Us" 4 years before July 2023... My heart - just - can't.

[maddyjones2]

On not idolising creative people

In the wake of the various recent allegations involving Neil Gaiman, people have been both very sad that someone who they looked up to as an inspiration has, allegedly, turned out to be something less than entirely admirable, and are now looking to see who is now left that they can rotate into the spot of “the good dude,” i.e., that one successful creative guy who they think or at least hope isn’t hiding a cellar full of awful actions. One name I see brought up is mine, in ways ranging from “Well, at least we still have Scalzi,” to “Oh, God, please don’t let Scalzi be a fucking creep too.” Which, uhhhh, yeah? Thanks?

I have many thoughts about this and I’m going to try to make sense of them here, as much for myself as anyone else, so this may be messy and discursive and long (seriously, 3600 words, y’all), but, well, welcome to me. So, ordered by how these things come out of my head:

1. Stop Idolizing Creative People. Creative people are easy to idolize because they create the art you love, and that gives you permission to feel things, and to see yourself and your desires reflected in that art. That is a powerful thing, and from the outside, it can feel like magic, and that the people who do it are tapped into something otherworldly and admirable. Plus, they often get to have cool lives and get to know other cool creative people. They do things that are removed from the day-to-day aspect of a “normal” life, and they’ll even post about them on social media where you can see them. Sometimes, independent of their art directly, they’ll speak about their life, or life in general, and they’ll seem wise and considered and kind. I mean, what’s not to like?

But please consider that this is all an extremely mediated experience of this person. The art is the edited and massaged result of hours and days and weeks and months of work, into which the work of many others is also added. My novels originate from me, but it’s not just me in there, nor is the final form of the novel an accurate statement of who I am as a person, not least of all for the simple reason that I am not trying to tell my story in my novels. I’m creating fictional characters, and the world in which they make sense, for the purpose of the story.

Despite how it might look from the outside, this is not sorcery. It’s years of experience at a craft. It’s not magic, just work. A completed novel (or any other piece of art) won’t tell you much about the specific, day-to-day life and inclinations of the individual who made it, other than a general nod toward their competence, and the competence of their collaborators. Likewise what you see of their lives, even from the illusorily close vantage of social media, is deeply mediated. Lives always look admirable at a distance, when you can only see the lofty peaks and not the rubble at the base — especially when your attention by design is pointed at those lofty peaks. There’s much you don’t see and that you’re not meant to see. The vast majority of what you’re not meant to see isn’t nefarious. It’s just not your business.

Now, before I was a professional creative person, I was an entertainment journalist who spent years interviewing writers, directors, movie stars, musicians, authors and other creative folks. Since I’ve been on the other side of the rope, I’ve likewise met a huge range of creative people from all walks of life. Please believe me when I assure you that creative people are just people. Richer and/or more famous? Sometimes (less often than you might think, though). Prettier and/or more charismatic? Especially if they’re actors or pop stars, often yes! But at the end of the day they are just folks, and they run the whole range of how people are. By and large, the day-to-day experience of getting through their life is the same as yours. Outside of their own specific field of work, they don’t know any more about life, have no more facility for dealing with the world, and have just as few clues about what’s going on in their own head, as anyone else.

They’re just people. Whose work is making the stuff you like! And that’s great, but that’s not a substantive basis for idolizing them. It makes no more sense to idolize them than to idolize a baker who makes cookies you like, or the guy who comes and trims your hedges the way you want them to be trimmed, or the plumber who fixes your clogged drain. You can appreciate what they do, and even admire they skill they have. But holding them up as a life model might be a bit much. Which is the point! If you’re not willing to idolize a plumber, then you shouldn’t idolize a creative person.

(“But a plumber doesn’t make me feel like a creative person does,” you say, to which I say, are you sure about that? Because I will tell you what, when my sump pump stopped working and the plumber got in there, replaced the pump and started draining out my basement which had an inch of standing water in it, that man was the focus of all my emotions and was my goddamned hero that day. My plumber that day did more for me than easily 90% of the great art I’ve ever experienced.)

Enjoy the art creative people do. Enjoy the experience of them in the mediated version of them you get online and elsewhere, if such is your joy. But remember that the art is from the artist, not the artist themselves, and the version of their life you see is usually just the version they choose to show. There is so much you don’t see, and so much you’re not meant to see. At the end of the day, you don’t have all the information about who they are that you would need to make them your idol, or someone you might choose to, in some significant way, pattern some fraction of your life on. And anyway creative people aren’t any better at life than anyone else.

Which brings up the next point:

2. Fuck idols anyway! People are complicated and contradictory and you don’t know everything about them! You don’t know everything even about your parents or siblings or best friends or your partner! People are hypocrites and liars and fail to live up to their own standards for themselves, much less yours! Your version of them in your head will always be different than the version that actually exists in the world! Because you’re not them! Stop pretending people won’t be fuck ups! They will! Always!

This sounds more pessimistic about humans than perhaps it should be. When I say, for example, that people are hypocrites and liars, I don’t mean that people take every single opportunity to be hypocrites and liars. Most people are decent in the moment. But none of us — not one! — has always lived up to our own standard of behavior, and all of us have had the moment where, when confronted with a situation that would become an immense pain in the ass if we stuck to our guns, or demanded the inconvenient truth, decided to just bail instead, because the situation wasn’t worth the drama, or we had somewhere else to be, or whatever. We all choose battles and we all make the call in the moment, and sometimes the call is, fuck this, I’m out.

Every person you’ve ever admired has fucked up, sometimes really badly. Everyone you’ve ever looked up to has secrets, and it’s possible some of those secrets would materially change how you think about them, not always for the better. Everyone you’ve ever known has things about them you don’t know, many of which aren’t even secrets, they’re just things you don’t engage with in your day-to-day experience of them. Nevertheless it’s possible if you were aware of them, it would change how you feel about them, for better or for worse. And now let’s flip that around! You have things about you that even your best friends don’t know, and might be surprised to learn! You have secrets you don’t wish to share with the class! You have fucked up, and lied, and have been a hypocrite too!

You are, in short, a human, as is everyone you know and every one you will know (pets and gregarious wild animals excepted). And all humans are, charitably, a mess. This doesn’t mean there aren’t good people or even exemplary people out there, since there are, along with the ones that are, charitably, a real shit show. What I am saying is that even the good or exemplary people out there are a mess, have been morally compromised at some point in their lives, and have not lived up to their own standards for themselves, independent of anyone else’s standard for them.

One of the aspects of being an “idol,” I think, is that higher standard that other people expect of you — that in every situation where the aspect they idolize you for is in play, you will act in a manner that is right and correct by their standard, which of course you will likely not know about because you don’t actually know them (or often know that they exist). This is, by definition, an impossible standard to be held to — you didn’t agree to it, or to engage with it — and an impossible standard to hold other people to without their direct consultation. Every human made to be an idol is destined to fail at the job. You don’t even have to have feet of clay! You just didn’t know you were on a pedestal to begin with.

(This does not excuse shitty action. The fact people should not be idols in the first place is not exculpatory for the choices one makes on one’s own. If you’re sexually assaulting people, or being a racist or sexist or homophobe or other flavor of bigot, or using your situational power coercively (as just a few examples), then hell yes you are going to be called out on it. And to be clear, it is not unreasonable, to put it mildly, to expect people not to sexually assault other people, or not to denigrate other humans for being who they are, etc. But this only adds to the point about idols, now, doesn’t it. You don’t know what you don’t see, and you don’t know what you’re not seeing, until it is hauled out into the light one way or the other. If it is hauled out into the light at all.)

I don’t think anyone should idolize anyone, ever. It’s not great for them, and it’s not great for you, they probably didn’t ask to be idolized (and if they did, holy shit, fucking run), and in the end unless you’re so completely wrapped up in their lives that they have no secrets from you — which is never — you don’t know enough to make that call. People do it anyway, and then disappointment happens, but they shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Stop idolizing people. It’s not fair for anyone.

What to do instead? Enjoy their work, if they’re a creative person. Appreciate the kind and good aspects of their life that you can see, and the decent actions they undertake in public, with the knowledge that what you see of them is a mediated and elided version. Understand that we all have a different version of ourself for every person we meet, and that every person we meet has a different vision of ourselves in their head, and very often, those two versions are not the same. Like them, based on what you know of them! Love them, if it comes to that. And when and if you learn something new about them that you didn’t know before, let empathy guide you to a new understanding of them and what they mean to you.

And now, taking all of the above into consideration:

3. Absolutely 100% do not idolize me. I don’t deserve to be idolized because no one deserves to be idolized, but also, holy fuck, I do know me and I’m a mess. There have been lots of things in my life that I’ve done that have not been admirable or kind. I can be petty and shitty and competitive and cruel. I am lazy and inattentive and when I let things slide (which is often), I end up jammed up on my responsibilities, which makes me irritable and no fun to be around. I have a temper which goes from zero to sixty almost instantaneously; if I’m not actively paying attention to it, I can become a sudden, unreasonable rage monster, which is a burden to people I love, and I hate that fact about myself (pro tip: don’t travel with me, the rage monster comes out a lot then).

I can be controlling and demanding but I want other people to handle the details, i.e., executive asshole. I am strategic in a way that can be bloodless. When I’m insecure I brag a lot, which is unflattering. If you cross me, I won’t go out of my way to make your life miserable (that would require effort on my part), but I will absolutely enjoy when you take a literal or metaphorical tumble down the stairs. God knows I’ve enjoyed the failures of the people who have spoken ill of me, almost as much as I’ve enjoyed the fuming, spittling rage they’ve felt when I’ve succeeded. I spent years cultivating a snarky persona online and while that was fun (for me), I’m increasingly aware that when the tally is added up for Who Ruined the Internet, I’m not necessarily going to be where I want to be on that particular ledger.

And these are only the bad qualities of mine I wish to admit to you at the moment. There are others, I assure you.

So, yes: Who wants to idolize me now?

“But you seemed so nice when I chatted with you online/met you at the convention/saw you at that one place that one time.” Well, thank you, I’ve been in the public eye in one manner or another for three and a half decades now and I understand my assignment; my public persona is friendly and engaging and sociable and mostly fun to be with. It’s not a fake version of me — I am all those things! Honest! — but, again, it’s a mediated version of me designed not only to be a positive experience for the people who meet me but also to get my actually introverted ass through a whole day of events at a convention/festival/book tour/whatever. When I’m done I collapse into an introverted hole. When I came back from Worldcon this week, I slept for 15 hours the first day I was home. It wasn’t just because of jet lag or con crud.

I rather famously call my public face “performance monkey mode,” and likewise what I say about my (current) online mode is that I’m cosplaying as a better version of myself, one that is kinder than I used to be online, and more patient than I am in the real world. If you meet me when I am “off” then you will find that, again, these versions of me are me, just with some things dialed up and other things dialed down. But even that is still a different version of me than, say, the version of me which is at home (which is in fact extremely boring; that version of me doesn’t talk much and mostly stays in my office).

Many of you who have followed me over the years are familiar with me saying things like this, of course, and are likewise familiar with me pointing out that there are a number of things about my life that I don’t mention in public, for whatever reasons I choose. But it’s also true that I’ve been actively online for 30+ years now, and people feel reasonably confident that they have a good bead on me and that there’s not much about me that will surprise them or change their understanding of me. So to bring home the point there are indeed things you don’t know, allow me to surface just one previously unaired fun fact:

I have a concealed carry license.

(Or did; it expired this year and I didn’t renew it, because Ohio changed its laws so that you no longer need a permit to conceal carry in the state. These days in Ohio you can just wander about with a handgun stuffed down your trousers without training or licensing because that’s a real good idea, now, isn’t it. Nevertheless, the license is not necessary anymore so there was not much point in renewing it, although if the law had not changed, I probably would have renewed.)

Why did I have a concealed carry license? Well, ultimately that’s not important. The point is I had one. I didn’t talk about it before because, among other things, the point of a concealed carry license (to me, anyway) is that its existence is not meant to be known by anyone other than that great state of Ohio itself. I am aware, and this is a dramatic understatement, that I am not a person most people would expect to have had such a thing. That the fact I had one will cause a number of people to reconsider what they know about me, for better or for worse. Which is also my point. All y’all have just learned this thing about me! Think about all the other things you don’t know!

Oh, God, this is where Scalzi starts admitting to terrible, terrible things. No. I feel pretty confident I live a tolerably ethical life. Part of the reason for this is that I have what I think is a decent operating principle, which is: If I’m thinking of doing something, and Krissy called me right then and asked “what are you doing?” and I would be tempted to lie to her about it, then I don’t do that thing. Because Krissy is the most important person in my life, and I don’t want to lie to her about what I’m doing (I have lied to her exactly once. She knew instantly. I haven’t bothered lying to her since). This is not replacing Krissy’s ethics with my own; it’s me knowing whether by my own ethics, I would be ashamed to tell to her what I am up to. It works very well. As such, the Krissy Test is an operating principle I highly suggest to others, although I’d suggest replacing Krissy with whomever your life is most important to you.

Be that as it may, my ethics are not universal and some others might not find them sufficient, for whatever reason. I am well aware I still disappoint many people, and that there are people who find my life choices, known positions or public statements (or lack of them, as the case may be) problematic, or who simply wish I would be other than what I am. I can’t help them with this, but again, this is the point. Given the fact that I am a fallible human who has an entire stratum of his life not visible to the world — and the strata of his life that are visible cause significant numbers of people to be irritated and exasperated — is it not better just to not hold me up as an ideal person, or the “good dude,” much less an idol of any sort?

I mean, shit. What Would John Scalzi Do? Solidly half the time, I have no fucking idea. I have to think about it, whatever it is. I have to think about whether I know enough to do or say something about it. I have to decide whether it’s something I want to engage with at all, and whether my engagement with it is something that would be of value to anyone, me included. I have to decide whether engaging with it is worth the shit I will get for it. And then I have to figure out what it means that I am engaging with it, since like it or not I’m a Dude of Reasonable Significance in My Field. I try to be a decent human, when people are looking at me and especially when they are not. But I also know me, and all my flaws and weaknesses and compromises.

What Would John Scalzi Do? The best he can, in the moment. Is that sufficient? For me, yes, most of the time. Is that sufficient for you? That’s up to you.

The point to this all is that people are just a big fucking mess, including the ones you might for whatever reason find admirable. I am no different than anyone else, and you should not be under the illusion that I am anything other than a shambling collection of flaws embedded inside a human form, which also, in its defense, has some pretty excellent qualities as well. We’re all this way! You too!

And while I want you to like my work, and to enjoy the version of me that you see here and elsewhere, don’t put me, or any other person, on a pedestal. Pedestals are wobbly and and don’t give actual humans a lot of room to move. We will inevitably fall off. Keep us with our feet on the ground. That way, when we stumble, there’s a chance we can get back up, and keep going.

— JS

[mypoisonedvine]

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” with neil lewis? 😏

oh my god not me seeing the notification which just said "anon asked YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED" and being so concerned and confused lmao like who has naked pics of me

BUT ANYWAYS. neil my beloved. (i didnt use the exact dialogue from the prompt just like the concept)

warnings: 18+ only!! SMUT!!!, rough sex, some degradation, some hair pulling, punishment but like it's not that serious, facial, established relationship

"The fuck were you thinking?" he spat, one hand pulling down your pants while the other kept you bent over the end of the couch.

I was thinking you'd come right home and beat it up like it owes you money, you thought, and it looks like I was right.

"Wasn't thinking," you answered quickly instead, arching your back as he yanked your underwear out of the way and roughly shoved two fingers into you. "Fuck!"

"Oh, that's too much?" he scoffed. "Cause you wanted a whole lot more than this, didn't you? You were just texting me while I was at work about how-- what did you say exactly-- how you wanted my thick cock stretching you open?"

"Y-yeah, something like that," you mumbled with a smirk-- as much as you could smirk with your face pressed into the sofa cushion.

"So two fingers shouldn't be a problem," he decided, "and you're fucking soaked, too-- even more than in that picture you sent. Fuck, babe, somebody could've seen--"

"Did they?" you asked coyly.

"You say it like you almost wish they had," he noticed. "Are you that much of a slut, you want the guys at the store to see you like that?"

"N-no, but it would be kinda hot if you got caught," you admitted. "If they knew why you rushed home, if they knew how bad I need you..."

"Well, I don't know about them," he decided as he took his fingers out and began to open his jeans, "but the neighbors are sure as hell gonna know who's giving it to you."

He made good on that promise within a few minutes-- if not just from the way you screamed his name as he fucked you so hard, then from your couch scraping across the floor from how brutally he slammed into you.

"This what you wanted?" he taunted proudly, holding you down and watching you nod quickly. "You're such a tease-- getting me turned on at work like that, I shouldn't be giving you what you want-- but fuck, I want you too. I was hard as a fucking rock as soon as you sent me that, you're so fuckin' dirty, babe..."

"Gonna come," you admitted with a gasp. "Fuck, Neil, baby, m'gonna fucking come--"

"Then do it," he snapped, hips clapping on your ass as he went even faster. "Fucking come, come for me--"

Your back arched but he kept your head down; you sobbed loudly, more than enough to be heard through your apartment's thin walls, but you didn't care at all. Digging your fingers into the couch cushions under you, you felt everything in your body tense up all at once as heady pleasure coursed through you. Even knowing how needy you'd been-- you wouldn't have texted him something like that for nothing-- it had hit you faster than you expected.

You thought he might mock you for it, but he didn't, and a few seconds later you realized why: because he was in no place to judge.

You whimpered a little when he pulled out, even moreso when he tugged on your hair a bit. "Get up, get on your knees," he ordered quickly as he stepped back, "gonna cover that pretty face."

It was harder than it sounded, you were so fucked out and not especially balanced, but you did as you were told, crouching down and kneeling in front of him as he stroked his cock quickly.

"Knew you could be a good girl," he praised, "fuck, hold still--"

You weren't really moving much, but he still grabbed onto your hair and used it to hold your face where he wanted as he jerked off over it-- and he came with a deep groan and warm ropes that covered your face. You hummed happily, flinching and shutting one eye at some point when it his come almost landed on it, but waited patiently until he'd squeezed the last drop out and tapped it on your lips. He looked so damn good like that: a little sweaty and a lot disheveled, catching his breath with his lips slack and his eyes heavy.

"Fuck," he said lowly one more time, admiring how well he'd ruined you. "Stay right there. I think it's my turn to take a picture."

[palmettoshenanigans]

Oh my GOD

You know what AFTG fic I haven't read???

Neil, post canon, growing out his real hair (mostly out of pure laziness) and Allison cutting off the dead dyed parts slowly but surely, and then-

Andrew. Watching with keen eyes as Neil's curls become even curlier from simply being untouched by chemicals. Wondering what they would look like if they were treated with a proper Curl Routine.

Andrew. Going on a bit of a Google spree. Talking to Dan. Talking to Bee. Engraving the full encyclopedic knowledge of Curly Hair Care into his mind.

Andrew. Smoking a cigarette. Staring into the distance. Facing this feeling of want that this auburn idiot keeps dredging up. Proposing the idea to Neil.

Neil. Who has never given a single solitary fuck nor wayward damn about the state of his hair in a positive light ever in his life.

Neil. Who reveles in Andrew's touch and attention always. Cherishes and hoards every offering of it. Who sees the haunting of want and is honored to bear witness.

Andrew. Yes or no.

Neil. Yes.

Followed by several thousand words of Fluff chronicling the progress of Andrew tending to Neil's hair (cus Mister 'bandana gets it out of my eyes' Josten certainly won't) and Neil's hair getting oh so soft and oh so shiny and oh so run-your-fingers-through-them-as-you-kiss-me-on-our-roof-able.

Bonus points for post graduation Andreil separation where Neil has to tend to his hair on his own (and fails) leading to Andrew chastising him for ruining all his hard work (and thus creating the perfect excuse for more visits - Andrew has to fix such blasphemous errors, obviously)

Bonus bonus points for a final scene post Separate Pro Teams, first day moved in together in their new apartment, Andrew telling Neil to get settled cus the idiot left him such a mess to clean up and what the fuck did he do all that hard work for if Neil was just gonna fuck it up anyway goddamnit and Neil does get settled, smile wide and fond and content and eyes closing to the feeling of Andrew running gentle fingers through his hair, assessing, reacquainted, reverent, and finally finally Andreil feels once more at home-

Yeah I haven't read that one yet

[neillewismybabydaddy]

the xxx section

summary: your just a girl with a bad history of sex and a love for porn, but for some reason a certain Neil Lewis decided to shut down that love.

Neil Lewis x fem!reader

warnings: smut, penetration, unprotected sex, public sex.

word count: 1.8k

—————————————————————————

This day was a different day. you’ve grown tired of your usual porn collection which was great but a bit tragic at times knowing, no man has touched you like that. Hey, it’s not like you haven’t ever, you have but just sort of boring. Either they have touched you on ur labia and have asked SERIOUSLY if you that was your clit, or for some reason, treat you like an absolute body bag and would slam you onto the bed as if you were some sort piece of wood. Porn has been your friend for a while now, concocting fantasies in your brain that was certainly to far gone from reality. A man will never know what you like, how you like or what they will do to make it better. It’s not like you haven’t told them. Some guys you will tell them how much you’ve NOT enjoyed it and then they run away onto the next poor victim. At some point, you even considered women.

“give me peace and grace lord.” you though while walking into this cute little movie store called Gumshoe video. You saw this cheesy ad and heard around they had XXX videos so you knew it was time to find some more variety. You walk in and see this nerdy-looking man with the haircut of Michael Moscovits from The Princess Diaries. He was very handsome but now was not the moment to pay attention to that, you had a mission to complete.

“welcome to gumshoe video!” the man says peeking up as finally someone walked in to this very empty store. “can I help you find anything? we are doing a 2 for 1 sale for all jungle adventures movies.” he said.

“oh no, i’m good just came to look around.” you said. of course you had to hold some dignity, this was not looking around for anything, this was looking around for porn. You spot the xxx sections in the far back, out of sight from the entrance or the cashier box. You walk over, smoothly and calmly as if you were looking for a move for family night. They knew what they were doing with setting it back up here, i’ll tell you thank god for this little corner.

You begin to look through the neatly displayed rack of complete nasty DVD’s and VHS’s. How ironic how nicely these are racked while the actual contents aren’t all that nice. You chose out a couple that interested you, and they were perfect. Tonight was gonna be a great night, very sorry to the neighbors.

You walked up to the counter and set the array of DVD’s and VHS’s that could possibly get you beaten down emotionally but hey, TITS UP. The man looked at the DVD’s and VHS’s and was a bit thrown off, he didn’t know you were that kind of girl. You were pretty with gorgeous eyes and a beautiful body, so once he saw this, he didn’t know if this was a good thing or bad thing.

“Did you find everything okay?” he said

“Everything was perfect, thank you for asking.” you replied, seeming unbothered.

“My name is Neil, Neil Lewis I own the store.” he said abruptly while ringing you up.

“Hi Neil Lewis… Im Y/N” you responded, why would he ask you for your name? Is he trying to make a tab on me to his secret spy friends, what is he trying to do?

“Can I get your phone number?” he asked, like as if it’s okay to ask someone their number while they are buying porn.

“Are you hitting on me?” what is he trying to get at?

“I’m just trying to make you an account so I can keep track of your…. videos.” he replied. “But if you want to think I am hitting on you, then by all means, you are an attractive lady.” he retorted.

Is this really a good moment to get hit on? This could either be really good and an open door to see if a nerdy guy that owns a video store can make ur fantasies come true or are they gonna be just like the other guys but you know what, fuck it.

“You are not too bad yourself, Neil Lewis.” are you really doing this right now or is this a super bad idea?

“Hey, I have a XXX movie theater in the back. Do you wanna test drive these bad boys?” he said with the look of hopefulness but also embarrassment.

You face turned bright red. Where did this guy get off asking girls if they wanna go to his porn movie theater. It’s odd for sure, but you’re intrigued. This could lead into many things but you are really hoping for just one outcome. “Sure, but make sure to lock the door behind you so nobody walks in.” you said stoically.

“Oh yea for sure, I was planning on locking up the store anyways. It’s getting a bit late.” Neil in reality, had planned to get his friends over to watch some noir film. He definitely had other things planned right about now.

He was staring at your ass, you felt it at the back of your neck. Someone was staring and it was none other than that horny bastard, Neil Lewis. As you walked in, you sat down and he walked past to put in the DVD he had chosen ‘Naughty Girls Fight 4’, very embarrassing but intriguing and arousing for sure. He sat back down next to you and swiftly put his arm around you as if y’all were gonna watch some sort of Disney movie.

The film began and as it kept playing, you, of course, became hot and bothered. Who wouldn’t be, you have an attractive man with his arm around you watching a raunchy porno. The moans of the women in utter pleasure, the squelching sounds of the sex, the tension between you and this attractive man, it was all coming together.

You turned your head to face Neil, he looked like he was holding on with every ounce of his body to not jump and absolutely ravish you. So you’re now stopping yourself Neil Lewis, you were the one to ask me to go to your cramp porno theater. With this, you just decided to go for it.

You moved your hand to rub his cock through his jeans. He took in a big but quick inhale, as if he wasn’t expecting this. You kept going and began to kiss his neck, and using your other hand to caress the hand over your shoulder. He was breathing heavy and was slowly tipping over the edge.

Suddenly, he grabbed your hand that was on his cock and looked at you, “Are we really gonna do this here?” he said.

“Why not.” you replied.

He grabbed your face and pulled you into a rough kiss as if he was hungry for you, like some sort of feral animal. You kissed him back, making sure to keep on rubbing his cock through his pants. He slowly crept his hands up to your chest to squeeze your boobs and you pushed into him more, becoming more and more needy for him.

You stood up unfortunately but necessarily to take off your shirt and jean shorts, exposing your underwear which thankfully today, your usual granny panties weren’t clean so you had to wear a more revealing pair of lingerie. He ogled at you as if you were some sort of statue in the Louvre, completely entranced. You felt appreciated for once, like not some sort of meat but a sexy ass woman. He stood up as well and took off all of his garments and sat back down in just his boxers.

You walked over and sat on his lap and began to kiss him yet again. You could definitely feel his imprint and it made you even more needy. He got a little grabby and began to fondle your ass which made you start to hump him, getting that stimulation on your heat and making you moan in his mouth. He was absolutely loving how lewd all of this was. He began to guide your hips on his lap to continue both your stimulation.

It gradually became faster and longer humps. In a moment, he stopped your hips forcefully, “Get up and take the rest off.”. You stood up and took off the rest to show off your body and he took off his boxers. His member sprung out and was bright red and leaking “Sit on it, darling.” he said.

“Yes, sir.” you said giggly, excited to finally get some good sex.

You sat back down on his lap and aligned yourself with his cock. He slowly entered you. “Holy fuckin shit.. it’s spreading me wide open.” you exhaled. He bucked his hips up, causing you to gasp.

“Take it darling, isn’t it so good…” he said in a breathy manner. You did not expect this to be your Saturday evening. You continued to bounce on his hard cock, making the same squelching sound that every porno makes when having sex. All your fantasies were coming true in this one moment.

“Deeper..” you said, needing your insides to be explored in its deepest places.

“You got it darling” he said with assurance. He picked you up and placed you on the char, facing away from the front the theater with your knees on the seat. You held the back of the chair with dear life. He then, entered you yet again, hitting your deepest places. You moaned loudly, feeling him in your belly.

“Oh my god, it’s perfect, please… just keep going Neil.” you said desperately. You couldn’t get enough of him or this moment. You gasp for air and moan, “it’s so good… mmmhm..” you try to say but in reality, it’s just blabber.

“I’m getting close my sweet..” he said breathlessly. You didn’t want this to end, it’s like his cock was built for your vagina.

“Im gonna cum Neil.. mmhm” you push out. that high you’ve been trying to chase all these years, you’re getting without the help of a vibrator or dildo. “Cumming… Neil…” You cum all over his cock, making it very wet and creamy.

“I’m there Y/N…ughh” he takes out his cock and releases on your back, but breathing hard and continuing to recollect each other. “I wish you could see what I see Y/N.” he says while smiling, happy that it happened.

You both then, realize that the porno has ended already and y’all didn’t even notice from how loud this encounter has been. “Naughty Girls Fight 4 isn’t anything worth fighting for, im guessing.” he says jokingly.

“Yea of course, I have you now. I can’t let go of you that quick.” you reply.

At least your neighbors aren’t gonna be hearing raunchy porn as much anymore.

—————————————————————————

first time writing! do we like it? do you wanna read more, please send me reqs or i’ll just keep on making up shit in my head. this was much more vanilla then what i was hoping to come out with but it was just a sweet night but yk i’ll keep on tried!

[adamsrcnan]

OKAY OKAY here we goooo an annoyingly long-ish post about all my thoughts on The Sunshine Court

Spoilers Spoilers Spoilersss you've been warned

First things first it is so interesting to see Nora writing from not one but TWO new people's perspective. Jean's perspective is just devastating being inside his head is heartbreaking the constant fear and panic and how much of his energy is used on just pushing down every memory of what was done to him. His coping mechanisms are terrifying and i truly do hope by the end of book 2 he has a healthier way of dealing with it bc baby boy stop hurting yourself :( Every sentence was so painful to read. But also his resilience the entire time to get through it no matter what, god i fucking love him!!! He is a fighter.

Jeremy's perspective is sooooo refreshing. He is such a little sweetheart i could cry. The fact that he sends hand written letters and he's so caring and genuine but he can also be so stern. When he dropped that "i asked you a question" to Lucas fkehdjdfjdh OK SIR. I'M SAT. His relationship with the family butler is so endearing as well i need more background on that for sure! My only one criticism is that he didn't have enough pov chapters and i'm hoping we'll learn more in the second book of course because there's still so much about him and his (dysfunctional? toxic?) family dynamic that we don't know yet but also i'm greedy and i wanna know EVEYTHING about him !!!

Kevin and Jean are so just tragic it actually breaks my fucking heart like "you didn't have to slit my throat on the way out" JEAN??? and "promise me you won't try again. I can't lose you." KEVIN??? And the fact that Jean to this day is still keeping that promise. Also Jean's obvious but secret long term crush on Kevin the way it's subtly dropped every time Jean has to stamp down on his desire's and "temptations" GOD PLEASE I CAN'T STAND IT

SPEAKING OF!!! BISEXUAL JEAN ??? BI JEAN??? BI JEANNNN !!!!

Neil and Jean oh my God like where do i even start?? The guilt Jean feels at what happened to Neil in the Nest and him finally calling him by his name after Riko's death and telling him his game was good. And Neil seriously needs to give himself more credit for how much of a caring person he is because the way he indirectly told Jean that he thinks he is worth saving and didn't even hesitate before asking Stuart to send someone after That Guy after what Jean told him. Neil Josten the man that you are!!!

Jean's little sister Elodie what a beautiful name. Them being so close and him reading to her. The way he found out about her death jolted me differently. It was so awful and i'm so sorry Jean didn't get to see her grow up and meet her again.

Renee and Jean oh my god. Jean thinking she's beautiful (bitch me toooo) And the whole right person wrong time ugh i can't stand it. Him wearing her necklace all the time, enough that Jeremy always notices it. And unabashedly stealing her picture from the foxes lounge. Like he did not give a fuck. He said this one is mine. One good reason to stay alive being rainbows i'm gonna FKSJSKDHDH. Theirs would be such a soft love.

Speaking of soft loves Laila and Cat are EVERYTHINGGGG. God they are so cute with their little domestic life and their rich gay boy son who crashes on their couch with his cardboard cut out dog. That whole friendship dynamic is beautiful. Their fierce protectiveness and care over Jean as well and the patience they have with him even after the little kitchen incident. When Cat took Jean out for a drive on her motorcycle god that was such a heart warming moment and Jean helping them cook as well and becoming the girls' little sous chef it's so cute so endearing !!!

FINALLY FINALLY THE JEREJEAN DYNAMIC

PLEASE I'M GONNA SCREAM

Jeremy being the one who told Jean that Riko was dead i don't even know what to begin with THAT like hhhhhhh. The way they're both stupidly attracted to each other but won't/can't do anything about it. THE WHOLE "say yes Jeremy" SCENE WTF WAS THATTT I WAS GOING INSANEEEE. Both of them having to stop mid sentence when they catch the other looking FINE as hell. Jean being so obvious that even Lucas picks up on the way he looks at Jeremy. Jeremy being there to ground Jean in a Moment and helping him come down from it. Grabbing his face and telling him he's okay. Moving into the room with him to make him feel more comfortable !! The way Jean grabs Jeremy's chin (boiiiii). Jeremy constantly reminding Jean that he is NOT A RAVEN ANYMORE no matter how many times he has to say it. Jeremy saying he'll wait as long as it takes until Jean speaks to him. JEREMY GIVING HIM A HUG AND JEAN CLUTCHING DESPERATELY TO HIS SHIRT FUUCUFHDHSJHSSUHDH and then the "will you help me?" And the "Anything you need" AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE A CERAMICS CLASS TOGETHER?!?!?!!!! i can't i can't i can't i caaan'ttt

There's so much more to say but i'm gonna leave it at this for now because i need to go re-read it again and take my time with it this time round but i really could not have asked for anything better Nora truly outdid herself here !!! I'm forever grateful she blessed us with this after so long.

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Warnings: 18+ content, dry humping?, sexual language, cursing, angst, inexperienced reader, virgin reader.

Authors note: Hi everyone! Sorry it took so long for the update I was studying for exams and what not but I hope you guys enjoy sorry if it seems a little rushed this is my first series so I’m slowly learning! Feel free to inbox me for whatever! <3 this was also a little Lana inspired I just love her so much and I feel like her music matches Billy’s vibe so well.

Chapter 3: Just Ride.

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

He gradually emerged from the depths of unconsciousness, his senses assaulted by the incessant beeping of machines, the sterile brightness of the overhead lights, and the icy tendrils of cold air wrapping around him. With a heavy groan, he blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings.

A strong smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.

The hospital?

As he tried to rise, a sharp twinge from his lower ribs forced a hiss of pain from his lips, halting his movement abruptly. And a strong pounding in his head distracted him from moving any further.

"Hey, Billy, I'm Nurse Janet," a woman in pink scrubs greeted him. "How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"

Is she blind?

"Fuck yeah, my head's killing me, and I can't sit up," Billy muttered bluntly, causing the older woman to cringe at his choice of language.

Billy shut his eyes against the glare of the lights and massaged his temples, trying to dull the throbbing pain in his head.

“You have a concussion and a few broken ribs, can you recall what happened tonight?” She asked.

Yeah, Neil really fucked up.

"Not really, no," he lied. Despite his hatred for his father, a small part of him still felt the need to protect him. The nurse looked at him sympathetically. "The doctor will be here shortly. For now, just try to relax," she said, giving him a warm smile before exiting the room.

You’re gonna be okay.

He remembered hearing a voice, he was probably hallucinating but the voice was sweet, soft, and comforting. Maybe it was his guardian angel, but he wasn't about to confess that to the nurses; they'd likely send him in for a psych evaluation.

Bits and pieces of tonight's events flashed through his mind. He recalled finally standing up to Neil, but his memory of the confrontation was hazy at best. All he can hear echoing back and fourth in his head was the fear in max’s voice.

“Get off of him!”

His gut churned at the thought, for he had once experienced that same fear when it was his mother at the mercy of Neil's hands.

Guilt consumed him once again, he looked up at the ceiling tears pricking the inner corner of his blue eyes.

God, what an aggravating feeling.

He was exhausted from the weight of guilt, he was tired of feeling. Maybe if his mom would’ve took him with her, maybe if he stayed in California, maybe he would be different.

Maybe.

The door of his hospital room opened, creaking slightly. A man in a white coat, presumably his doctor, entered, accompanied by two police officers.

Billy felt a slight panic, although he hadn't done anything wrong. His heart rate started to pick up through the monitors.

"Billy, it's all right. This is Chief Jim Hopper," the doctor reassured, motioning towards the tall man. "He's one of the best officers I know and he wants to talk about tonight,”

"Hey kid, I’m J—" Billy cut him off before he could finish, "I know who you are. I have a concussion, not a mental impairment," he snapped defensively. "You can't speak to me unless an adult is present."

Jim swallowed back whatever sarcastic remark was about to spill out of him and took a deep breath,

"You're 18, kid. I'm allowed to speak to you. I just wanted to ask you a few questions," Jim sighed carefully, hoping to gain the boy's trust with his measured tone.

The doctor left the room allowing them space to talk.

“Had some really rough sex, mind was hazy after it and I ran into a door” Billy spat, blatantly lying through his teeth. It was a terrible lie but it was the first thing that came to his brain, his concussion was preventing him from coming up with a better one.

Jim let out a chuckle, his amusement evident, while the other officer couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Running into a door isn't going to give you a grade two concussion and broken ribs," he remarked, with a tone that conveyed both skepticism and exasperation at Billy's attempt to deceive them.

"It was a really hard door," Billy retorted, annoyance creeping into his voice at the one going conversation. “And it was really rough sex, you’d think I was killing her with the noises she was making but I promise, she was enjoying every inch of me,” Billy’s said voice dripping with arrogance.

Jim and officer Callahan exchanged a glance before returning their attention to him.

"Just ask my neighbor; she had front-row seats. She'll tell you," Billy said, his voice smug with confidence.

Although Jim felt for the boy, his patience was wearing thin. "Oh, you mean Y/N? Yeah, she's right outside with your sister, scared half to death. I heard she was screaming at the nurses to be careful with you. Poor girl almost lost her mind seeing you like this," Jim said, his tone tinged with slight frustration.

"She's the one who brought you here, you know. You were knocked out cold in her embrace," Jim said, studying the way Billy's features fell.

His smug expression vanished instantly, replaced by guilt. But he quickly scoffed, putting up his usual dickhead facade to cover it up.

“Listen, kid, we already got statements from your stepmother and your sister. I know your father’s been putting his hands on you for years. We need to know if you have any idea where he might be,” he said with a serious tone.

“You’re arresting him!?” Billy asked in disbelief,

"Should we not?" Officer Callahan said, more as a statement than a question.

Billy looked down at his bruised hands, the same ones that collided with his father's face a little while ago, and started to contemplate life without Neil, life without another parent. He could no longer maintain his facade, he’s felt too much, been through too much, it was cracking. The lonely little boy he’d been his whole life was slipping through the cracks.

"I'll have no one," Billy said, a knot forming in his throat, the weight of loneliness settling heavily upon him.

Jim walked over to the side of his bed and kneeled, “You have three women in that waiting room worried sick about you, I know two of those women personally and they are fighters, they love with every fiber in their body,” Jim said looking at the California boy who reminded him of himself at his age.

He knew you? And max? Surely he wasn’t talking about Susan.

"You have them, and you have me whenever you need it, kid... you just need to try," Jim added, encouraging Billy to lean on their support and make an effort to move forward.

Billy hardly knew you. But the glances, seeing you every morning, watching you in the halls at school, you watching him, he felt a strong pull from you, excitement, a connection, one that scared him. This feeling, this thing was only something he’d see in cheesy movies, shitty romcoms.

“He might be somewhere in the city, but he’ll be back. He’s not leaving without his shit… or maybe he will, who knows.”

Jim nodded, stood up, and patted his shoulder. “We’ll be on the lookout. For now, I’ll have an officer parked outside your house just in case he comes back.”

.

Hop exited the room and headed towards you and Max. Susan left to lock up both your house and hers, since you both forgot to do so earlier, given the circumstances

"He's a smart ass," Hop muttered. "But he's going to be okay physically. He might need a little time to adjust to what's going to happen from here on out, but he has you two, and I made it clear that he had me to talk to as well.

"Yeah, sounds like Billy," Max said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks Hop.” Despite it all, she felt content; her brother was going to be okay, even if it took time. With Neil out of the picture, she held onto hope—for Billy, for their relationship.

He was definitely shitty to her, but Billy did care for her, and she cared for him, at least a part of him. There were times when Neil and her mom argued, and Billy would offer her solace in his own way. He’d take her to the arcade, for burgers, but they never really talked. It was evident they struggled to bond with each other. He was angry that his father met Susan, which was the reason he left California; he blamed her and her mother. However, what Billy didn’t know was she resented him for that same reason.

Max thought that in California, they’d both be safe. She wouldn’t have to face the trauma of encountering interdimensional monsters or deal with Neil’s presence. She wouldn’t witness her mother losing herself to him, or observe Billy’s escalating anger day by day. It felt like everyone was losing themselves in that house. Neil was like Vecna, sucking the life out of people, but not swiftly—rather, in an agonizingly slow manner.

“Can we see him yet?” Max asked.

Hop nodded. “Yeah, I’ll catch up with you two later. I’ve got an asshole to catch.”

.

You and Max slowly entered the room, Billy was staring up at the ceiling lost in thought, his head snapped towards you two when he realized you both came in, he tried sitting up again but the pain he felt was a reminder of the condition he was in.

Max walked towards the front of his bed and you followed right behind her.

“Hey,” Max greeted slowly, “How are you feeling?” Billy looked at her with annoyance as if it wasn’t obvious, “Oh I’m just great Max, feeling like a million bucks,” he said sarcastically.

Max rolled her eyes huffing in annoyance.

“You know you should be thanking us, asshole, we’re the ones who practically carried your ass here,” you spat chiming in, “And you’re not exactly light.” Max added.

Billy’s features softened, and for the first time in a long time, he set his pride aside. “Thank you, Max… I’m sorry you had to see that,” Billy spoke, his voice filled with sympathy.

Your heart broke for them both. Max was such a compassionate soul, and despite whatever barrier Billy had built around his heart, he climbed out of it from time to time for her.

Max nodded and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay, shit head. You scared the shit out of me, out of us,” she said, looking over at you.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than Neil Hargrove to take me out,” he replied, his tone smug.

Billy then glanced at you, feeling his heart start to race. God, you were breathtaking. Despite the fatigue evident in your appearance, it only added to your beauty.

Max noticed the way you two looked at each other, and felt as if she was interrupting something.

“Yeah…” max trailed, “I’m gonna go get snacks from the food court, I’ll be back later.” And with that she left, leaving both you and him alone for the first time in what felt like a long time.

You looked at him the same way he looked at you—admiring his beauty, his tough exterior, which only made him more intriguing. Despite his bruised eye and cut lip, he remained mesmerizing. On the way to the hospital, in the back seat of his car, you gently brushed aside the single curls of hair that fell on his face, wishing you could do the same now.

Wait. Back seat of his car? Oh my god the backseat of his car!

You then twisted your face in disgust, “God!” You said in realization, “I sat in the back seat of your car, where you fucked Tina!

Billy struggled to contain his laughter, knowing that doing so would only increase his pain.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shouted angrily. “Ugh, I need to drown myself in disinfectant tonight, damn the consequences,” you huffed.

You glared at him, but a giggle escaped your lips when you noticed him wincing in pain. "Yeah, keep laughing, Hargrove. I'll be right here," you said as you pulled a chair next to his bed, "enjoying every ounce of pain that laughter gives you."

Billy rolls his eyes, the playfulness leaving them before being placed with seriousness.

“I, um,” Billy struggled to get the words out, “T-thank you for helping Max and getting me here.” Before you could respond, he continued, “A-and I’m sorry for being a dick. You didn’t deserve that. I was just…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “My dad, he’s an asshole. He seemed to like you, or at least acted like he did. He’s a damn narcissist, probably did it just to piss me off... Anyway, I lashed out and took it out on you and him. I guess I wanted to piss you both off.”

Billy kept taking deep breaths, you can tell he was struggling, like he wasn’t used to explaining himself or even apologizing. Before he could speak again, you placed your hand over his bruised one gently.

“Billy it’s okay, I understand. I have a pretty clear idea of what goes on in your house, what’s been going on with your father, I’ve been through it too once…” you sighed as his blue ocean eyes bore into your saddened expression, “My mom… she was a bully. She would strip me of my humanity with her words. I was a bitch for a while... I was like a exactly like her, God, I was so awful Billy,” you said as you looked at him through teary eyes, “So I understand.” Billy looked at you with love, understanding now why he felt so drawn to you. You reminded him of himself, but he saw the good within you—the good he hoped to find within himself. Even if it meant putting in the work to mend his heart, he was willing to do it. He needed to do it, for Max, Susan, and for himself. After all they were his only family.

You and Billy sat like that for a while, eventually ending up intertwining your hands. You felt flustered by him, despite him being in a hospital bed. Together, you shared laughs and occasional smiles, enjoying each other’s company. Max eventually came back munching loudly on her snacks, gagging at the two of you, irritating Billy with her sarcasm and with how loud she was chewing. You couldn’t help but laugh, realizing she’d gotten her sarcasm from him. You could get used to this and the warmth that spread through your body filled you with hope.

A few weeks later…

Hawkins Sheriff’s Department focused their efforts on finding Neil, especially since Hawkins was a small town and there seemed to be little else happening besides neighborhood complaints about trivial matters.

Neil returned a few days after Billy was released from the hospital. An undercover car, hidden on his street, swooped in and arrested him just before he could set foot on the porch. That night, you, Max, and Susan comforted Billy, reminding him that he still had a family.

Billy was introduced to the gang the following night to get his mind off things. You threw a little get together at your house. They were all wary, given their past interactions with him, especially Steve. Throughout the night, they exchanged glances. Billy felt sorry; he just couldn’t find the words for Steve. However, he grabbed him a beer, attempting to find some common ground, and Steve accepted. Surprisingly, he and Eddie clicked over their common taste in music. If Eddie could accept that Steve and he had become friends, there was room for one more. Meanwhile, Robin and Nancy chuckled at how smitten you and Billy were, teasing you both about it. Jonathan was cool about it like he was about everything, I think given everything that’s happened this year he had no room for judgments or criticism; he was over it and extremely high out of his mind.

Despite everything, Billy was healing emotionally. He had already recovered swiftly from the injuries he endured from his father, and now everything was slowly falling into place.

Now.

“Y/n let’s go! We’re losing light!” Billy screamed from the driver seat of his car repeatedly honking his door. You huffed loudly and slammed the front door of your house locking the door behind you, “I’m coming GOD!” You yelled back, stomping towards the passenger seat.

You threw your bag of sunscreen and spare clothes through the passenger window, not caring whether it hit him or not, and settled into the passenger seat of his car. You couldn’t stand when he rushed you; it was the most annoying thing. “Jesus, are you ever patient?” you asked rhetorically. Billy was about to respond with a sarcastic comment until he saw what you were wearing. You reminded him of California sometimes. You were wearing a red bikini top with nothing covering the rest of your body, and some blue denim shorts. He tried so hard to keep from lunging at you and devouring every bit of your body.

He’d been doing this for the past few weeks, and it was flustering you more and more each day. You remembered one time you did his laundry. He was gawking at you as you picked up his clothes that were scattered all over his room, making things easier for him since he couldn’t really move given his injuries. He thought you looked like a housewife, his housewife, and it aroused him profoundly.

He teased you about it, and he was very blunt about how he felt. It was infuriating because you actually enjoyed it.

Billy was glad he had planned today just for the two of you. The sun was shining brightly, and Lovers Lake seemed like the perfect place to cool off and relax. Recently, you two had only been around friends—Max, or Max and Susan. He hadn’t been able to spend time alone with you since that night.

After settling in and buckling up, you noticed the car still wasn’t moving. Glancing at Billy, you found him staring at you with an intense gaze, as if he was about to devour you. Your face flushed a deep red as you crossed your legs. “We’re losing light,” you mumbled, attempting to tease him, but you failed miserably. However, you successfully snapped him out of his trance. He licked his lips and chuckled, putting the car in drive and taking off.

You couldn’t help but stare either. Billy was wearing a muscle shirt, showcasing his buff arms, along with some swim shorts. His hair was styled perfectly, as usual, with a single curl falling onto his forehead against his beautiful tan skin. As he held a cigarette in his mouth and drove, butterflies fluttered in your belly.

Metallica blared through the radio as you two drove with the windows down, feeling the warm air on your skin. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, savoring the moment. It almost felt surreal that you were sitting in his car right now, like something out of one of your romance novels.

“Dammit!” Billy groaned in frustration. “Forgot my fucking lighter.” You rolled your eyes and assured him he’d survive a couple of hours without a lighter. With Billy’s frustration, you noticed the vehicle starting to accelerate more, getting faster and faster. Your belly started to jump with the increasing speed, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as Billy’s car felt like a roller coaster. He looked over at you with admiration, recognizing that same feeling, prompting him to go faster on the empty road. You stuck your body out the window, relishing the speed of the car and the harsh wind hitting your face. You felt free, out of this world free. Not a care in the world, just you and a beautiful boy speeding down a ghost town, or rather, a hell town, you might say.

“Fuck you, Hawkins!” you screamed, with Billy joining you in whooping with excitement at the top of his lungs.

You sat back in your seat and looked over to Billy, who was smiling with his foot still pressing on the gas. He started to slow the car down, but you couldn’t help but continue staring. He looked over to you, “You liked that, huh?” he asked, glancing at the tightening of your thighs. The adrenaline rush of it all was enough to get you excited down there, and his presence only intensified the feeling.

You bit your lip and looked over at his. He placed a hand on your thigh, causing your breath to hitch. “Is this okay?” he asked. “Y-yeah, s’fine,” you responded, taking a deep breath.

Billy took pride in the nervousness he caused in you; it excited him.

He kept driving, but his hand now started moving up and down your thigh. Your heart started to race, and the warmth between your legs began to spread. You weren’t being dramatic; you were touch-deprived for God’s sake, and you’ve never made it past second base with anyone.

He then moved his hand higher up your thigh and squeezed tightly, eliciting a slight moan from you. You looked over at Billy, his face filled with awe, while yours was flustered, as if you were in discomfort, eagerly awaiting his touch to ease the pressure building inside you.

“Stop the car,” you said, out of breath, face hotter than the sun.

“But we’re 3 minutes away—” Billy began, but you cut him off.

“Billy, I don’t give a shit, stop the car!”

With that, he pulled off to the side of the road, removing his hand from your thigh as he put the vehicle in park.

Before he could turn to ask what was wrong, you lunged over the center console at him, unable to contain yourself any longer, and kissed him. You grabbed the sides of his face, and it was a passionate kiss that you held for a moment. Then, as you were about to pull away, he took advantage of the slight opening of your mouth and shoved his tongue inside, grabbing the back of your head and adding incredible pressure and pleasure to the kiss. You both fought for dominance, but he won every time. You were in heaven, and the warmth between your legs was becoming harder to contain.

He stopped the kiss for a moment,

“Climb in my lap,” he said through the clashing of your tongues, slightly out of breath, and you obliged, legs going over the center console as you straddled his lap. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, and you felt some of the pressure down there relieved as you settled.

Your eyes then went wide as you felt something poking at the denim of your shorts causing Billy to chuckle. You then looked down and seen the outline of his hard cock that was straining in his swim shorts.

He bucked his hips slightly into yours, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from both of you. “Can we keep doing that?” you asked shyly, not wanting him to stop.

“Before we dive into this, there’s something I gotta ask.”

You nodded your head, signaling him to ask his question, while both your hands rested on his face.

“You ever been touched, pretty girl?” Billy asked, his voice rough, as he brushed the hair falling over your face behind your ear.

“I—” you sighed nervously. You felt embarrassed. Everyone your age seemed to be having sex or had some type of experience. Robin and Nancy always talked about their experiences, you loved hearing their stories and always hoped you’d experience the same one day. But, the boys you made out with never did it for you, so second base, making out, was all you knew. They’d try to touch you, but you’d never budge. It wasn’t exciting, thrilling, or intimate; it was just plain boring.

You weren’t an idiot you knew what happened during sex and everything that led up to it you’ve just never taken it to the next level.

“S’okay, baby. You can tell me; I won’t judge,” he spoke, now caressing your face, which was hot to the touch.

“No. I’ve only ever made out with a few people but I’ve never made it past that,” you said looking away,

“Hey, look at me,” Billy said. “Look at me, Y/N… I’m gonna show you everything you’ve been missing if you let me.” His hands moved down your sides. “We can take it slow, and then we’ll build our way up. How does that sound?” Billy’s asked voice smooth like honey.

You nodded furiously, excitement building in your belly.

“Good. Now take these off,” he said unbuttoning your denim shorts, “I need you in just your bikini bottoms.” You obliged opening the drivers door quickly hopping out to take off your shorts, then hopped right back in straddling Billy’s lap once again.

The pressure felt different this time, you almost moaned at the contact because it was much more intense as you felt the outline of his cock on your pussy.

You let out shaky breaths as he put his hands on your hips, pushing you down to apply pressure on his throbbing cock. “I’m assuming you’ve never had your big O either, hmm?” he asked. You furrowed your eyes in confusion at his question and tilted your head to the side.

“An orgasm?” Billy spoke again. Your eyes lit up at the familiar word. Robin had told you all about the extraordinary feeling, but you’ve never come close to experiencing it.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, finally understanding what he was talking about, but your expression shifted to a frown. “No, never,” you mumbled.

“Oh, you’re breaking my heart, baby,” he said as he guided your hips to grind up, then down his clothed length. “Ah, shit,” you cursed as you grabbed at his muscle shirt, almost tearing it off with how hard you were gripping. “That’s okay,” he cooed. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, darling,” he rasped against your ear, licking at it.

A big part of him found comfort in the fact that no one else’s hands had touched you but his own, knowing that no one else could make you feel the way he did. The mere thought of anyone else touching you drove him to the edge of insanity. He was possessive, and he couldn’t help it.

The sensation you felt was otherworldly. It felt as though your body was craving this, yearning for this level of attention. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, like tiny electric shocks. Billy locked his deep blue eyes with yours, his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t fathom how he was finding pleasure in this, but he did. His face flushed slightly, and he emitted small grunts as you took charge of your movements. Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in and shared a sloppy, passionate kiss with him. The mutual fervor intensified your arousal, and you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he guided your pace.

“That feel good, sweetheart? You like that?” He grunted through the sloppy kiss. You kept going like that for a few seconds, then Billy slipped his hands down, ghosting your clit with his fingers, and pulled your bikini to the side roughly. Your bare pussy was now grinding on his clothed member. “Fuck, you’re killing me, Y/N. You’re dripping through my shorts,” he said in a low grunt.

“Ah, feels so good, Billy, feels amazing,” you whined, your eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation. It was incredible. Your wet folds were soaking through Billy’s shorts.

“You’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Billy groaned into your mouth. Both your tongues explored eagerly, creating an intense heat. Drool dripped from your mouth, mingling with his, and you savored each other’s taste, lost in the moment.

Billy was on the edge, trying hard to control himself. You were driving him wild, completely absorbed in your own pleasure as you kissed him passionately. It was a new experience for him, seeing you like this, and he knew he would never forget it.

It was difficult for him to restrain himself from touching you, from speeding up the process and bringing you to orgasm faster. But he resisted, wanting you to explore and discover on your own, to use him as you pleased. He desired to corrupt you, to be the one to show you the way, to introduce you to pleasure. It felt selfish and sinful, but he wanted to be the one, and he always would be.

“Billy, I think… oh, fuck, I think I’m coming,” you whimpered as the knot tightened at your core. It was overwhelming, your movements becoming erratic, and Billy gripping your hips roughly as if he was about to burst too.

Billy then released one hand from your hip, cupping both cheeks with it, and forced you to look into his eyes as you unraveled. Your eyes screwed shut, and your hips stuttered with pleasure, drawing out a stream of curses from Billy’s mouth.

“Fuck, fuck,” Billy groaned as he shot a load into his swim shorts.

Your moans grew louder, and then the knot snapped. Your mind went black as waves of pleasure took over your body, riding out your first orgasm. Billy’s intense groans and moans added to the overwhelming sensation.

You collapsed onto his heaving chest, both of you needing to catch your breath.

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with joy and hope. You both were still shocked that this had happened.

“Can we have sex now?” you said, out of breath, lifting your head a little from his chest and batting your lashes at him.

Billy chuckled, “Easy there, tiger. Remember, we’re taking it slow. Don’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, gently brushing the back of your soft hair with his hand.

“Is it always like that?” you asked curiously. “Do you feel like this with other people? Is it always this intense and earth-shattering?”

Billy pondered for a moment. He knew the answer; he just couldn’t believe it. He had came in his pants from just your grinding. It was unbelievable.

“Nah,” Billy responded. “It’s never like this. It’s us. It’s you.”

You blushed and buried your face into the crook of his neck, feeling warm inside. You were excited to explore this world of pleasure together.

“Looks like we’ve lost light,” you giggled, poking his chest, your gaze drifting to the darkness outside.

“Yeah,” he smiled, remembering how he had hurried you out of the house. “We sure did.”

Taglist:

@jennapancake @writethrough @callsignwidow @strlightfilms @empathyroad @moneyy-21 @fossface @t3n1 @learninglinesintherainn

Tags:

[darthannie]

day twenty-one: virginity kink with neil lewis

pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader word count: 933 warnings: inexperienced reader, kinda dom!Neil, use of “baby”, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, they’re best friends baby! a/n: I’m trying to play catch up, but kinktober will go into November! Anyways, I love Neil so much. kinktober masterlist

Neil was your best friend in the whole entire world. You’d gotten close over the years, making you inseparable. When he first opened his video store you were the one who helped him. You’d been through so much together, it was only natural you were close.

He made you smile more than you’d like to admit and your crush on him grew as the years went on. Sometimes when you hung out the conversation turned to one about relationships, more specifically how you haven’t been in one in years.

He was always urging you to put yourself out there. Find someone and take the lead, ask them out on a date, see what happens. This was the first time you divulged a tidbit of information about your sex life.

“What do you mean you’ve never had sex?” Neil’s reaction was almost cartoonish, dropping his jaw in disbelief.

“It’s exactly what I mean. I mean I’ve never had sex.”

“That’s not true. It can’t be. You’re-“

“I’m what?”, you questioned.

“You’re too pretty to have never been fucked before,” he said matter a factly as if this information was common knowledge between the two of you.

He called me pretty, you thought. He’d never mentioned you and pretty in the same sentence. You wondered if he had meant what he said. You realized you had been silent for longer than you should have been, and all you could say was “Oh.”

“You really have never…”

“I already said no, Neil. I haven’t.” You were starting to feel a little ashamed. You couldn’t read his reaction until his voice got a little lower. “I’m kinda into that.”

“You are?” You didn’t even know that was possible. “Yeah I mean,” he got closer to you as he spoke, “if you’d let me I’d love to take your virginity.” You blinked, thinking each time you opened your eyes Neil would be gone and this would all be a dream.

But, it was very real and Neil was waiting for your response. He grabbed your face and pulled you in for a light kiss to bring you out of your stupor. Once you realized what was happening, you kissed him back and grabbed his forearm. His hand found his way to yours and he grabbed it to lead you to the bedroom. “Come on. I have to teach you a couple things.”

You got on the bed and Neil started to strip, you did the same until you were both naked. He laid back on the bed and, feeling bold, you straddled him. “Wow, baby, getting ambitious.” He flipped you over so that he was on top, “Not today though.” He kissed you hungrily, “Pretty little virgin like you has to be ruined first. Isn’t that right?” He tilted his head, smirking at you. You nodded and looked down at his already hard cock. You reached down to wrap your hand around him and he stifled a moan. He hardened further in your hand, dripping precum. “God, such a pretty girl. I can’t wait to take your virginity. Who knew my biggest fantasy was right in front of me this whole time.” His enthusiasm made you wet. “Neil, please fuck me.”

He smirked, “Oh and she begs too.” He lined himself up and pushed his tip inside you. You felt a brief sting that dissolved into pleasure. “Neil, more,” you moaned. He thrust into you, savoring the moment. He took pride in the fact that he was the one to take something from you. He was the first man to be inside you. He was the first one to make you feel this way.

Once he started moving, your moans turned into cries. “I didn’t think you’d be so loud.” You were because he started out with a pace that would rival a car going 0 to 60 in 3 seconds. He meant it when he said he was going to ruin you. You grabbed at his shoulders and pulled him down, wanting him to be as close to you as possible. You could only imagine the image of him on top of you, kissing your neck, licking and sucking in all the right places.

He whispered in your ear, “Ready to cum on my cock for the first time?’

“Yes, Neil!”, you pleaded, “I need it, please.”

He smirked, “Beg again. I need to hear you beg, baby.” You were too far gone to protest.

“Neil please make me cum. Please I need it so bad. Cum inside me.”

He was almost patronizing. “Who knew you’d be so dirty your first time? What, are you trying to get pregnant on the first try? You want me to make you mine?” His words made you moan, your face got hot. It was not something you had previously explored, but it felt right with Neil. You wanted to fill him coat the inside of you with his cum, mark you as his. “Yes!” You yelped when your orgasm happened. This was the first time you’d ever felt this amount of pleasure. You rarely touched yourself, and when you did it was never for longer than a minute. Neil’s orgasm closely followed after feeling you squeeze around him involuntarily. He filled you with his cum, unafraid of the consequences.

He pulled out of you, “Come here,” he gestured. You laid on top of him and he wrapped his arms around you. “Do you really want me to be yours?”, you asked tentatively

“More than anything.” You felt him start to harden again and you smirked, “Ready for round two already?”

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka, @no-fooking-fighting,@queenofstresss, @flwrs4aust, @mrkdvidal1989, @00hsv, @laylasbunbunny

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)