#ritz gets emotional

[ritzy-dream-boy]

this is directly linked to my last reblog

this here

and it makes me so happy and so not-sad-but-yes-sad (i do not understand or recognise the majority of human emotions) when these connections are made through things that are largely considered silly by society

but the specific part that makes me feel that way is people in general referring to people and themselves by their tags. on discord i had my name in a server set as ‘nameless’ as a joke because i hoard names for gender purposes and that joke is still running, but the people in that server have called me that for so long that they genuinely don’t know me as anything else. calling people their gamer tags or their display names or usernames outsider of the places and purposes those things were created for just makes me feel a very specific way.

[vaaaaaiolet]

When you run out of his work summit on the brink of tears, you can't believe that Leon hasn't picked up on how he hurt you. His only option is to apologize, but you're not listening to a word he says. So he'll just have to make you watch.

mdni i'm so serious. married f / m smut where porn is the plot THERE'S LORE I SWEAR, sour then sweet dom leon, mirror sex, EMOTIONS, aftercare :3 + 1 bad pun

a/n: anon req'd reader w/ praise kink. i really thought i did something and then i read it and i wanted to die. it isn't my writing if i don't try turning smut into shitty poetry.

word count: 2.9k // read on ao3

“I’m apologizing now, aren’t I?”

“A little late for that, Agent Kennedy,” you seethe. 

Your metronome heels keep time with the irate pounding of your heartbeat. This California Ritz-Carlton hallway stretches like the goddamn Shining and you can’t seem to get away fast enough from your husband. He’s too damn good at his job, and you’re too smart to pretend that this dance the two of you are playing at is anything but a distraction, an impediment.

You are a distraction. You’ve been an unwelcome one all night.

So you’d cut it short yourself.

One keycard slice through the sensor and the sanctuary of your hotel room opens up to you, messy with the aftermath of black-tie preparation. You step up to the vanity; plant your palms on its wooden surface and stare straight ahead as if to admire your ruined mascara. It’s a formality, really. It’s not as if you need the mirror to remind you what happened in this room. Tonight began with indulgent kisses afraid to smudge dress shirt collars, hands squeezed for courage, Leon in perpetual pursuit of the train of your gown. Big dreams.

“You wanna talk? We can talk.” Leon shuts the door with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” you hiss. You stare daggers at his reflection.

“Really?” His shoulders drop. “Then what was all that with the storming off, the- oh baby, don’t look at me like that.” 

Leon’s arms wrap around your middle while his nose buries itself in your diamond-laced neck. He’s good at that, that sneaking thing without leaving so much as a whisper to signal where he’s going. The higher-ups at the DSO call it stealth. You just want the man you married to tell you what the hell he’s doing before he makes a fool out of you. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear,” he whispers, kissing softly down your neck. “Didn’t mean it at all, I’m sorry. What’d I do?”

You scoff. 

He’s testing the waters. A rough thumb finds and starts running down the divot of your spine, thank you backless Mirror Palais ballgown. Pass the smoking gun back and forth, pretend not to see the shrapnel from the bullet holes. You don’t pay Leon any heed as you stoically unhook diamond pendants from your ears, and he frowns.

“I said I was sorry.” 

“I shouldn’t need to tell you what you did, Leon.” 

Shame simmers sickly and strong in the pit of your stomach. You teeter on the edge of snapping altogether and consider throwing his blankets on the floor for the night – you will, actually, as soon you take off all your evening regalia. In your haste, your nails end up nicking Leon’s nose when he tries to murmur another weightless apology.

The kisses stop leaching onto your collarbone. “Don’t play this game with me, sweetheart.” 

“So now you’re calling me immature?”   

“Isn’t that what you call running out of my work summit? Making me chase you down?” Leon counters, running his hands down your sides in a last-ditch effort to diffuse the situation. Thinly-veiled irritation finally seeps into his tone. “What exactly did I do?”

And gosh, does that get the tears going. He’s so blind it hurts.

You tug pins furiously out of your hair in an effort to keep an impending outburst at bay. “You practically had me on a leash!”

Not once had he let you out of his sight in that dreadful ballroom. In front of all those international representatives and agents, people whose reputations preceded them, Leon had kept you attached to him with a heavy hand on your waist, glued to his hip like an untrustworthy child he’d lose track of at a supermarket. Coughs had quickly turned to snickers behind your back. You’re no agent, sure, but you could expect to have some kind of autonomy, right? 

The guest badge you’d flung over the hotel room bed glints tauntingly now, respected by every security detail except the one whose chest your back is currently pressed against. It’s humiliating how untrustworthy, how incapable he made you look tonight.

Leon blinks. “You’re saying I think you can’t handle yourself?”

“You don’t have to. You showed me all night.” 

Tears drip down your cheeks when he relents, his arms lifting like fog over the Golden Gate, and if you’re finally free from his clutches, you might as well take off this suffocating dress. It’s gauzy and gorgeous and completely worthless despite the stack of bills Leon paid for it, however giddy you’d been when he’d brought it home. 

If only you could reach the tiny zipper perched on your tailbone. 

Leon, ever the perceptive one, however, never passes up an opening whether it be zipped or not. He’s got a handy index and thumb; he puts them to use. He’s your husband after all. 

“Right, okay,” he exhales sharply, tugging the chain as your back bows forward, “I did this all wrong. I thought you’d catch on when I should’ve just shown you instead.”

“Show me what?”

A hand inside your newly agape gown. A palm pivoting south to the curve of your hip, pressing, searching. Leon presses his lips to your neck in answer, but this time, it’s urgent in a way that doesn’t quite feel like remorse. He hisses.

“Tell me to stop and I fucking will, but this is my last resort considering how bad I seem to be with my words, sweetheart. How many times have I told you I’m sorry?”

“You-”

A squeeze on your hip. A direction. 

“I need a number.”

The door, your neck, seconds ago.

“...three.”

“And not one of them made it inside that pretty head of yours,” Leon scowls. “Doesn’t look like words are either of our strong suits. Chin up for me, doll, and pay attention ‘cause I’m only asking this once.”

So you do, you lift your face to meet mascara-rimmed eyes in the mirror along with Leon’s sapphire-blue ones that glint right behind, and his palm drifts up to cup your jaw from underneath. He tilts it back and forth. Kisses his teeth. 

“Tell me. How am I supposed to let my wife loose in a room full of criminals just like that?”

What?

Leon circles your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, pulling away quickly. Too early to indulge in this kind of affection. “Thought I asked you something, doll.”

But you hesitate, and so Leon must disappear. His final instructions are to face forward.

He dives to the floor, locking rough fingers around your ankles only to slide them up to the backs of your shins. He goes under so quick that there’s a breeze; you’re granted mere seconds to watch Leon’s blond head duck underneath the floor-length train of your dress and by then, it’s far too late to notice the fire. 

Leon loves starting those.

He also doesn’t wait. Invisible flames lick up your bare legs from Leon’s dragon mouth. Red hot kisses trail up your thighs – he drops a sweet one on the inside of your right knee, makes you buckle momentarily – and these stubbled kisses of his have a tendency to sear any skin on their skyward path. You can’t remember when your elbows propped themselves on the vanity, out of instinct, maybe, to keep the floor of your stomach from falling out at the very first sneak of Leon’s tongue inside the drenched lace gusset of your panties. 

But you can’t afford to be surprised, can you? Not with the line of destruction he’s left behind on his way to his destination. They say it takes one to know one. 

You clutch the edge of the vanity’s shelf, suck down sobs in your throat fluttering into something indecent.

“I need you to talk to me,” he whispers with his lips pressed to your pussy. The vibration echoes up your spine, jerks your head back. “You’re all clammed up. Keeping secrets.”

Air gushes down your throat. “And you’re not?” 

“Of course I am, baby, but I’m explaining, aren’t I?” 

Kiss. Kiss. Suck. 

You keen with your mouth shut.

He noses at your clit, prompting you. “So, where’s your explanation?”

Another quality the DSO prides itself on is your husband’s ability to sweet-talk himself out of a tight spot. That seems to includes in between your legs. Your thighs clench together in a final attempt of defiance when his mouth makes contact with your cunt. Your reflection in the mirror starts to swim at the first swirl of Leon’s tongue, and he makes quick work of you with his goal being none other than to dangle the promise of more to come, literally. 

Thumbs tuck into sensitive folds, and you’re gone. Shaking at the first breach of Leon’s fingers inside you. You spread apart at his will. He dips into arousal now impossible to ignore, and when sparks finally light at the hot air Leon blows over your spasming pussy, he commits his second unforgivable sin of the night: ducking right back out at the crest of your orgasm.

You have principles. The mirror reflects Leon’s swollen lips, tousled hair damp with you when he rises from his knees, and above all this, you clench your teeth. Face forward. 

He wipes his mouth.

“That’s one.” 

The other two remain rhetorical.

You’re being lifted bridal-style when the seal on your mouth finally breaks. “Leon,” you tremble in his arms, “where are we?” The summit, the people; you chase his mouth for any explanation. “You’re working with criminals now?” 

“Yes and no. Arms up,” Leon rasps, and tugs down what remains of your gown, crashes his mouth onto yours. 

You taste yourself in his kiss. Surely that’s not an answer, is it?

“Tonight was a mission,” he continues in his feverish haste, quickly laying your naked body onto the bed before kissing down your breasts.

Pride gets tossed on the floor next to your undergarments, his crumpled dress shirt. 

“The DSO couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t become collateral for this assignment if things went south and I didn’t want to risk it. So I took you with me.” 

“You brought me to a- oh! ” 

Two thick fingers push into your sopping cunt. You squeal, clutch the sheets. Leon presses the ribbed flesh nestled deep inside you, carving out room for himself from his kneel at the foot of the bed. He gouges deep and you writhe. Your arousal shimmers on his fingers when he finally pulls them out and you find that have nothing to say about that.

“Go on,” he coos lowly. “Don’t get quiet now.” 

Your head whirls. “You sh-should’ve told me they were dangerous.”  

“And where do you think that would’ve gotten us, sweetheart? I didn’t want you panicking. Blowing cover. I had you to take care of and intel to gather, I couldn’t think straight myself. Letting you out of my sight could’ve meant losing you.”

Fuck. You don’t need a mirror to remember how antsy Leon had been before going down to the ballroom. 

Hands squeezed for courage. Hand on your waist. 

The vanilla and leather on his skin had reeked of nerves, and you? You’d written it off.

“I wanted to keep you safe.” Leon looks up at you now, eyes glinting in the dim light. There’s a new softness in their blue depths, a sincere apology. “I just wish you'd believe me.” 

By all intents and purposes, Leon Scott Kennedy is sorry.

There’s been a lapse in judgment. Your elbows sit you up from the bed to fix it. Cupping his cheek, you lean forward to meet Leon’s waiting mouth in a long overdue embrace, one he can melt into with relief. There’s no bitterness on your tongue now. Just sweetness in the seconds you take to breathe your forgiveness into him. The clink of his falling belt promises no punishment.

“But you can’t let me off the hook just yet,” Leon murmurs when he tugs free from your latch on his bottom lip, “I hurt you, angel, and I never wanted to. Tell me I can fix it.”

He can. Your husband can fix everything, the world included. You sigh your approval, yes, yes, more, because forgiveness feels incredible as he lays your shoulders down, sets your hips straight when you twist them the first time he teases his cock’s weeping head over the soaked seam of your pussy. 

“Don’t take your eyes off the mirror for a second,” Leon instructs.

He plants his palms on the sides of your head. You whimper; swear you won’t.

“I mean it. Watch yourself, and maybe then you’ll understand how crazy you drive me.”

So begins your descent. 

You’re drowning, crying for air when Leon sinks into the liquid warmth you’ve saved for him. There’s so much of him to take, tight, tight, tight – your mind is a melting record. You’re breaking. Can’t disappoint him again. When your overwhelmed cunt nearly pushes him out, Leon just chuckles. He cants his hips to compensate, goes at it again. That should be enough to tell you how the DSO’s finest agent never lets a detail go amiss. 

“The Belgium ambassador started tailing you by the fountain." 

And to your astonishment, he starts rattling off half the world map. 

“Got rid of him quick. Then there was a – oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me – Swedish agent, don’t remember what I did to him.” 

A roll of his hips. Your nails down his back. 

“Someone from Germany tried to dose your champagne. Another from Argentina, shit,” his thrusts grow erratic the longer the list grows, “two from Russia, a Japanese spy – perfect fucking pussy, oh my God…”

Your husband takes you on a trip around the globe. He’d traveled to the ends of the earth in that ballroom, kept your back bulletproof with just his hand, the one that was once a collar to you. Turns out being a Kennedy puts you on a hitlist; makes your blood run blue. 

“Too much!” you sob.

You can’t take the responsibility. 

But here in the dark, here with Leon, there’s just pleasure. Opulence. The back of his head is a blond crown in the vanity mirror, the diamonds on your breasts sparkle with each bounce from Leon’s cock slamming home. Even the gooey mess you’re leaving on the chiseled marble of his lower stomach shimmers. War paint from a battle won for you.

Your head falls away from the mirror and Leon guides it back without losing his rhythm. “Mm-mm. You need to see your face when you break.” 

Never has a threat sounded so loving on anyone’s lips, you imagine. 

Your hands tangle into his hair, you grow quiet, you clench. You’re close. This, he can feel.

His lips curve into a weary grin. “Wanted you to see why I had eyes on my baby all night. My pretty girl, all mine.”

Lucky you. 

That somehow does you in. Every word of praise Leon utters makes it clear that no, he did trust you, does trust you. He trusted you enough to know you could hold your own in that lion’s den downstairs, trusts now that you’ll forgive him for a misstep born of love. And with that realization, your pleasure rides helium high. 

“Shit, Leon!” you cry.

Electric pressure builds in your sensitive bud, the one Leon rubs frantically now. Gasps from your wide open mouth sweeten the air like perfume and Leon wishes he could breathe it all in, you’re beautiful when he turns you into a wailing mess. All for him.  

“This one’s two, angel,” he groans when you flutter around him. No way. 

His cock had put you in a trance, so warm and filling is it inside you. You’d forgotten about the deal entirely. 

Your cries increase precariously in pitch. “Oh, please, please, you can’t, Leon, I have to-” 

“Hold on!” 

Leon presses you into the sheets one last time to free the pretty songbird singing his name. You sprout wings in the looking glass.

The afterglow is golden. The sunset is long gone but it glows in your hotel room all the same, wrapped in silk sheets and Leon’s arms.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know?” he hums, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“What, all sweaty and gross?” You wouldn’t expect him to know. He’s gorgeous. Leon is gorgeous when he makes love to you.

He nods, laughing when you roll your eyes. “Really, you do. Enough that I had to spend half my mission clawing bad guys off you. But I got it finished, and so did you in the process, huh?” 

Leon drops a kiss to your forehead, murmuring one last I’m sorry, his fourth one.

Shit. 

You scramble to hide under the sheets, leaving him cocking his head after you in utter confusion. “Wait, wait, what’s the matter?”

“I can’t do any more, Leon, I’m gonna pass out.” 

“Do any…?”

“You only left off on two!” 

Leon snorts. You soon feel a warm press on the top of your head: a sugary, schoolboy-sweet kiss.

“There you go, baby. That’s three. Apology accepted?”

And when you poke your head out of the covers to give Leon a kiss of your own, you make sure he knows it’s for apology number four.

He shouldn’t be so surprised you noticed. It’s not like you can take your eyes off him either.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[dykeherstory]

jenny shimizu talking about madonna:

She spotted me on a casting video and called me out of the blue, she asked me to dinner and I went to her house. nothing happened that night, but we both felt an immediate attraction. Then two days later I went back to a party and instantly we both knew that we'd end up in bed together. from the age of 14 I'd watched her videos and thought, ‘I'm going to have sex with that gorgeous woman one day.' and that night my fantasy came true—again and again and again. For hours we explored each other's bodies, kissing every inch. Far from the domineering, sex-crazed woman many think she is, I found her a very gentle lover. It wasn't about whips and chains. Madonna wanted someone she could trust to call when she wanted pleasuring right there and then. I was her secret ‘booty call' available any time of the day or night for secret sex sessions. One time she was doing her Girlie Show tour in Paris and I was in Germany on a photo shoot but she was so desperate to see me she booked me on a flight and demanded I go to her room at the Ritz. I was happy to oblige— this woman exuded raw sex appeal and I couldn't get enough of her. At 2am we met in her room as ordered and by 4am I was off, after two hours of slow, passionate sex. That was always how it was. we both gave each other what we wanted till we were satisfied, then I'd leave. It wasn't about an emotional bond, it was about taking each other to the heights of sexual ecstasy.

[churino]

Design for Astoria Carlton-Ritz and powerglide

She's our leading lady for the autobot's human allies. He's a niche extranet micro celebrity

After the death of her father Astoria is the CEO of the to the hybrid technologies company. She's spent most of her life in physical comfort, but emotional distress, being very lonely, she wonders if she can find someone that actually likes her, let alone love her

Astoria desires above all to be free from this corporate world she's been tossed into after her father's death and when she meets the autobots she quickly falls in love, first in a sense of admiration but later romantically, and uses her vast resources to help them in secret

But that leads her to question where those resources are coming from

With Nightbird's disaperance her proprietors grew desparate to find her, turning to the aid of any rich folk that would hear them out, they all refused out of knowing the greater purpose of nightbird's creation or having something to grain from the company's downfall, except for hybrid technologies, led by an absent minded woman that didnt even want to be there, she allowed them to use her company's satellites to search the world without really reading the contract, just wanting to end a day of work without more hassle.

When nightbird found out about the satellites, she blew the things out of the sky, which alerted autobots in space to investigate the earth once more, many years after the disappearance of the first expedition to the planet.

After the destruction of hybrid technologies' satellite, nightbird's forces targeted their owners next, tearing down their leadership quite literally, luckily due to runamuck and runabout's incompetence their attack only left humans injured rather than dead, (but of course leadership in such places tends to be quite old so we'll have to see how it goes down in the hospital)

Except for astoria who came out unscathed, rescued by the autobot powerglide as he literally descended from the sky, they remained in hiding till powerglide discovered the wereabouts of the apex bomber and joined up optimus' team, being assigned to join the trottlebots in scouting out the earth, and take astoria with him so she can be on the run and outside of nightbird or the decepticon's reach

Born gifted with the incredible ability to fly, throughout his early life, powerglide was incredibly popular and looked up to, which resulted in him becoming an immature show off. He loves adventure and freedom but is actually really fond of people with sheltered upbringings because they get impressed easily, since he likes making people happy with his stunts. But he never questioned where the power to do these stunts came from,

Having heard of the lost rescue mission to earth led by optimus prime, he was hovering around the planet to record his exploits to his followers when a satellite behind him exploded and took his screen with it, enticing him to go down to earth and explore, taking on the shape of a passing plane, he witnessed the vehicon's attack on a human building and being raised an autobot he came down to rescue the humans in denger where he met Astoria.

Eventually meeting up with the autobots on earth he was tasked with protecting Astoria as she was put in a journey around the world with the trottlebots to keep her out of enemy hands, their relationship eventually turning romantic during this mission.

As he was exposed to more walks of life during this task, powerglide began to wonder where his power came from, the awnser turning out to be, he wasn't actually a transformer, rather the menber of another race of machines, powerglide was a go bot, and, wanting to learn more about his heritage, he left earth for a time, discovering the plight of his people, and powers he never knew he had, by the time he returned to earth he had grown into a more complete person, ready to take the next step with his relationship, as the autobots simultaneously rallied to free the enslaved, with him and Astoria becoming symbols for the worlds coming together, personally financing the creation of the EDC (earth defense command) a joint organization of transformers and humans, working to foster unity between earth and the greater universe

In the time powerglide was away, the trottlebots began unearthing more of earth's secrets, discovering the transformers had been on earth even before the autobots ever stepped foot on planet, and had remained hidden not out of their own choice but out of a conspiracy to keep them hidden that had it's web around every major human group in history, including astoria's own company hybrid technologies, humanity's misterious benefactors, the six clan had ensured the rise of certain peoples and companies by granting them cybertronian technology harvested from transformers that stepped out of line and interacted with humanity, in exchange for supplying the six clan and aiding in their mission to keep the transformers a secret,

upon learning the truth of where her money came from, astoria decided to take matters into her own hands. Meaphotically of course, the autobots still act as muscle(cars)

To take down the conspiracy leaders and their operations, learning in the process that even outside the conspiracy, companies and big money constantly engage with exploitation, realizing her quest to "take down the bad guy at the center of all this" was a little childish and wouldn't magically fix things only after sundac and lord zarak had seen "the light" in their own very diferent ways (lord zarak died)

She took back control of her company and restructured it to be more humane, even though she knows exploitation is a societal issue and neither her or her company can solve it alone regardless of how many changes they personally undergo, she knows she can change the world for the better with the power she does have and that it's her duty as someone from a gifted background to do so. In her old age she's become a pillar for the community of transformers on the earth, hybrid offering housing and jobs for maximals and predacons alike and funding the EDC

[sightofsea]

good omens post-s2 fic recs

here's a list of fics i found really great so far!! all of these are completed, will go back and add in WIPs once they've finished.

Not for All My Little Words by @mia-ugly and @soft-october-night was the first thing i read post-s2 that i was like yes!!! yes this is it!!! its such a fun banter-y little romp of aziraphale trying to woo crowley with literary quotes as crowley hops around the world. VERY fun

Drinking Buddies and Diaries by dove_dove was another one. it's crowley teaching muriel how to be human and aziraphale getting weirdly jealous and bitchy about it. there's also a lot of aziraphale's diary entries in here. incredibly funny very satisfying ending and completely in line with the humor of the show.

puttin' on the ritz by @moonyinpisces. what can i say that hasn't already been said. funny horny goofy 20s romp. implies that crowley crashed the stock market bc he's googoo gaga. you can't get anything better than this

I'm the treasure baby, I'm the prize by stereobone. crowley takes up sex work only he never fucks the guys, he just hypnotizes them so he can use them as free therapists. just such a good concept and so well executed.

a rarer height by hyruling. this. THIS was the long fic i was waiting for. the arguments are so visceral, the scenery is a absolute gem. the tension and softness is palpable i just wanna lie down in a bed of it. absolute GOAT. emotional wreck for the ages.

Just Once More by NaroMoreau. i'm a simple girl i love a time loop and hoooooo boy does this DELIVER!!!! excellent aziraphale character study. excellent themes excellent language excellent everything.

[lenaellsi]

I've never understood what people mean when they say that Crowley is hiding the truth of Heaven and God's cruelty from Aziraphale to protect him or spare his feelings. That's like...the complete opposite of what Crowley does.

Crowley spends all 6000 years of their time on Earth together making snarky comments about Heaven and God at every opportunity. It's his opening line in Eden, and even before Eden, he meets Aziraphale and two minutes later goes on a rant about how unfair it is to end the world before it’s really started. "What's the point of making an infinite universe if you're only going to let it run for a few thousand years?" He's been forcing Aziraphale to grapple with God's plan literally since the moment they met. Those moments make up like half of the S1E3 intro, and it happens again in every single S2 minisode. "Same God that wants me to whack the kids?" "Tell her that poverty is ineffably wonderful and life is worth living. Go on!" "That's the trouble with you lot. You tend to see things in black and white." Like. Crowley's not trying to hide anything! He thinks Heaven sucks! He thinks God is playing a fucked up game! He tells Aziraphale that all the time!

Crowley sharing or not sharing the minute details of Aziraphale's failed execution is, honestly, a nonissue, and it's kind of frustrating to see it constantly brought up. We don't even know for sure that Crowley never told Aziraphale exactly what was said. Crowley says Aziraphale "doesn't remember it either," when he's talking to Jim--not that he doesn't know, just that he doesn't remember, because he wasn't physically there. But regardless of whether Aziraphale knows the exact words, he absolutely knows that Gabriel "tried very hard to cast [him] into Hellfire and destroy [him]." And he already knows Gabriel is an asshole. That's not news.

And I'm unconvinced that Crowley wouldn't have shared what he learned in Heaven about the Second Coming and Gabriel's trial over breakfast at the Ritz if things hadn't gone completely to shit. Here's my hot take: in the fifteen minutes he and Aziraphale had alone after he got back, he had other things on his mind. Would it have been helpful for Aziraphale to know? Eh, maybe. But honestly, Aziraphale is already aware that Heaven 1) is fully on board with the end of the world, and 2) has no problem punishing angels who try to stop the end of the world. Because, you know. They tried to kill him about it last time. And regardless, I don't think this is an issue of Crowley hiding things--I think he genuinely just forgot, because he was busy getting broken up with. If he'd thought about it, you bet he would have weaponized that to get Aziraphale to stay. And he kind of did! "When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it."

And then there's the Fall, and yeah, fair enough. Crowley probably hasn't shared what the Fall looked like for him, and I think that's information Aziraphale could benefit from. Aziraphale clearly doesn't understand it--if he did, I can't imagine that he would have asked Crowley back to Heaven.

But that's still not Crowley trying to hide the truth about Heaven to protect Aziraphale's feelings, or whatever. He just doesn't want to talk about it! Because it fucking sucked! Crowley's communication problems stem entirely from his reluctance to grapple with his own emotions, and his reluctance to be vulnerable. Bitching about Heaven doesn't make him vulnerable; talking about his Fall really, really does.

Crowley has never once shied away from telling Aziraphale exactly what he thinks about Heaven, or the archangels, or God. He's constantly challenging him, forcing him to consider the people hurt by policy decisions like the Flood, the Crucifixion, Job's trials, or the "virtues of poverty." That's a huge part of their dynamic. Sure, he sucks at telling Aziraphale about himself--he doesn't communicate why he wants holy water, or that he's been living in his car, or anything at all about the Fall (as far as we know)--but when it comes to God? He is painfully honest. That's why Aziraphale is so unsettled by him. Crowley is generally very good to Aziraphale and conscious of his happiness, yes, but he's also not afraid to push him. It's baffling to me that people think that all he does is coddle him when we spend about half the show watching them bicker over this exact issue on screen.

[wandawxdow]

Masters of the Air fic recs

(*) = includes smut

gale ‘buck’ clevens x john ‘bucky’ egan

in london / on leave

bomber’s moon by moonrocks

in london, secret & established relationship, (*)

level-off manoeuvres by wormringers

together in london, (*)

dallas girls by hcneymooners

london, fluff and dash of angst

hurt/comfort & angst

good men die too / oh i’d rather be with you by moonrocks

grief/mourning, first kiss, injured!bucky

falling apart by cloudystars

post-mission hurt/comfort

Whatever Happens Tomorrow, We Had Today by MaShEd_Potat_os

angst, love confessions

a good dream by lilium

hurt/comfort, protective bf, 1x04 au

dear john by ForASecondThereWedWon

angst, love letters, 1x04, (*)

you’ll never be alone (i’ll be there for you) by tearsricochets

first kiss, pining, emotional hurt/comfort, 1x01-1x02

make you feel alive by signifier

emotional hurt/comfort, happy ending, presumed dead

it had to be you by MaShEd_Potat_os

post-war, angst with a happy ending, insecure!bucky

Another First by JoeyAlohaDream

(mild * mention), hurt!buck

stalag / imprisoned

greyspace by cloudystars

sick!bucky, protective!buck, hurt/comfort

night terrors by cloudystars

trauma, nightmares, hurt/comfort

I’ll Get By (As Long As I Have You) by JediRobertHogan

hurt/comfort, reunited

whatever you want me to do (i will do) by tkachukypls

angst, unrequited love, 1x07

scars by cloudystars

protective!bucky, fights, 1x07

You Put Your Arms Around Me (And I’m Home) by johnslittlespoon

fluff, sharing a bed, 1x07

Full Count by madeitsimple

angst and (*), 1x07-1x08, fights

judgement by the hounds by anonymous

1x08, hurt/comfort, fights, sharing a bed

Whatever you want me to do, I will do by Anonymous

john brady!centric, protective!buck & bucky

rainfall by switchgrassdevil

sick!buck, hurt/comfort, sharing a bed

I Won’t Rot by GrayFingers

hurt!bucky, protective!buck, injuries

Fluff + AUs

back home where you’re safe from, that’s the measure of a man by wolfhalls

established relationship, learning to dance, (*)

Reverie by Avonne

soulmate au (*)

the secret list of very serious (and sober) 100th’s rules by Amethyste_Blanche

fluff

Look The Other Way by Disastrous_Canasta

first meeting, fluff

all roads lead home by cloudystars

biker!au and abo!au, modern universe

A Kiss With A Fist by perpetualmotion

buck defends bucky’s honour

Love Tokens by perpetualmotion

gift giving

moonlight serenade by puffanities

abo!au, omega!bucky, alpha!buck, ongoing series

You and Me (5 Times) by stopstopstopit

various jokes about buck & bucky being married

any day now by tkachukypls

gift giving, bucky gives buck a puppy

Garden in My Heart by 13SapphireStars13

abo!au, omega!bucky, alpha!buck, courting

Smut - no Plot

A Suite at the Ritz by stillheremydear

secret relationship & sneaking around (*)

buck x bucky x curtis fics

I’ll be looking at the moon (but i’ll be seeing you) by moonrocks

1x03, grief/mourning

different but equal by Ikharys

fluff, pre-relationship, sharing beds

my hand was the one you reached for (all throughout the great war) by RavenOfRao

fluff, pre-relationship

A Brief Moment of Mourning by Perpetual Motion

angst, emotional hurt/comfort

First Meetings (and Punishments) by scaraheather

first meetings, pre-relationship

Both (*) by Ikharys

fluff and smut, sharing a bed

each man has got his classification (*) by mpix

smut, jealousy

Out of Reach by studies in subjunctive

unrequited love, (*)

The Long Way Home by livelaughlove_write

post-war, ptsd, love confession

x reader recs

jealous!buck request by @sansaorgana

jealous!buck request (2) by ↑

to the rescue (curtis biddick) by @sagesolsticewrites

with all my gratitude, hope and adoration, john (2) (3) by @buckysegan

twenty five (to life) by MissFreakingFortune

blurb (bucky egan) by @swiftiekisses

Hitchin’ A Ride by @pisupsala

girl dad!gale request by @sansaorgana

Because the Night by @gloryofroses19

Birdie by @jointherebellion215

amor aeternus series by @saturnville

agape (wattpad) by perxwxnkle

Are You Going My Way by pisupsala

[randombush3]

THE SECOND PART

(to get back to the main post)

carry on reading!!!

[...]

Bali is hot. Or at least, by your English standards, it is. 

The children enjoy the villa at the Ritz, less so the yoga you partake in when your best friends find out that it can mend broken hearts, and there are big TVs in the living rooms that the World Cup matches are broadcasted on. 

Your fingers remain bare, but no one knows about the ring in your suitcase anyway, so no one questions the absence of jewellery that used to adorn your hands. Or, at least, no one whose opinion you actually care about. 

Nico and Elena are happy to play and play and play, barely granting you their attention when you disrupt their endless hours in the pool or exploring the beautiful grounds of the hotel with the 24-hour childcare service. You had been reluctant to accept the help, but Gio was fine with her own daughter being stolen away, and they both called you ‘uptight and preoccupied, a sad, faded picture of how fun you used to be’ until you gave in. 

You let Alexia wonder about how her children are, attributing her lack of phone calls to her focus on chasing World Cup glory, blissfully ignorant to the fact that your friends have been micro-managing your interactions ever since they agreed they aren’t sure about letting you forgive the blonde just yet. That is not to say she doesn’t ever speak to them – Nico was gifted an iPad for Easter (a shoddy, shoddy excuse of an occasion to be given it, but you barely batted an eye as he tore open the packaging and thanked Auntie Anya profusely). He sort of understands how to FaceTime Alexia. They often happen when he is with what Alexia calls ‘the can’t-mother-too-busy-doing-drugs nanny’. 

You are lounging on the sunbeds, sweat pooling on your navel, music playing softly through the speaker Elena had begged you to bring. Though Moana pales in comparison to the days you’d attend concerts that weren’t your own, you are quite content to relax and zone out the lively songs and stare up at the brilliant, blue sky. 

Today is a bit different. You are two weeks into your holiday, with one remaining, and, today is the day you are finally going to open Alexia’s gift. 

You worked out what it was the moment she had given it, but, since you know that curiosity kills the cat, you have stopped yourself from opening it, not sure if you will cope with seeing a ring. What would this ring even be? A ‘sorry I fucked my best friend’? 

Elena hasn’t been included in the children’s entertainment plans for the morning; they have gone for a visit to a coral reef, accompanied by their babysitter and Anya (who you are beginning to think is enjoying their activities more than they are). Despite being relatively advanced for her age, some things fall short, such as her attention span. It doesn’t help that the sleeping issues Alexia had noticed are leaking into her time spent with you, too. 

“Mama,” comes a small whine, followed by a sniffle. Elena has been trying her best to copy you, lying underneath a towel for shade. You had hoped she’d finally fallen asleep, seeing as that didn’t happen last night. With her evidently still awake, you sit up, reaching out to run your hand through her damp hair, not quite dry from when she had enough energy to splash around in the pool. 

“Mama, tired.” 

“I’m not surprised. That’s what happens if you don’t sleep.” 

“Mama.” The petulance is a little glimpse into her teenage years, but then she begins to cry and your imagination falters at the sound. 

Elena, as far as toddlers go, is not the most emotional. She is generally well-behaved, if a little unresponsive at times, but she is quiet and introverted and happy to follow the leader, whoever that may be. She is a complete contrast to her brother, who basks in the attention he demands from those around him, loud about what he loves and hates, yearning to make friends with everything he sees. Elena, Elisabet Segura has told you, is just like Alexia, when she was that age. Controlled, reserved. (And your parents were quick to draw the similarities between you and your son.) 

Just like her mother, Elena is drawn to you. Just like his mother, Nico is drawn to Alexia. Opposites attract. 

It’s hard to ignore if you notice it. 

So, when Elena begins to cry, you are alarmed to see, in her eyes, the same fear that clouds hazel irises you know far too well. The tears glide down her cheeks in inherited patterns, and you try not to panic at how much she looks like Alexia – even if they do not share the same DNA. 

Part of you, the same part that suffered from postpartum depression and dulled your motherly instincts, wants nothing more than to run away from the crying toddler, horrified at the sight as you spiral and begin to imagine Alexia in her place, just as distraught as your daughter seems to be. And it’s weird and unsettling and you are so confused because Elena hasn’t cried like this since you told Alexia to leave. She continues, and even that night starts to seem minor in comparison to her meltdown right now. 

Elena does not sob, she does not scream, she does not shout and go bright red in the face earnestly. A developmental tantrum, sure, but never, ever like this. 

You have never seen this before, and you are at a loss for how to respond. Naturally, you draw her into your arms, holding her close and rocking her gently as she continues to wail. 

“Oh, my darling,” you stagger out, trying to forget your desire to join her, to break down with her. “Mama’s here, Lela. It’s okay.” The words feel inadequate and do nothing to soothe her, though your hands stroke her back as if to rub the comfort in, to absorb her anguish and bleed it out. You would do it, if you could. You’d take all of her pain away in an instant. 

In your mind, a whirlwind of thoughts swells up and disgorges bubbling, burning ideas into the pit of your stomach, none of them quite fitting as an explanation for her distress. Is she hurt? Is she missing Alexia? Or is it something deeper, something you’d overlooked? 

You can be selfish, you know that. Perhaps you have been too focused on getting over the destruction of your family that you have forgotten said family in the process?

Perhaps this has happened before! You were touring for a while.

As you hold her, helplessness washes over you, as though the pool you are right next to has grown thrice the size and is trying to drown you both. You wish Alexia were here all of a sudden. Alexia, gifted at soothing crying children and being a mother and managing a career and parenthood in a way that you have never quite managed. 

Alexia, who gave into your request for children and ended up besting you at it. 

Alexia, whom you still love and miss and hope, sometimes, will wake up beside you even if you know that it is wrong and pathetic and… God, do you really lack such self-respect that you’d take her back? Are you this useless that the crying child in your arms should be passed off to someone else because you can’t cope and you never will and you still smoke because you’re stressed and the last time you took drugs was far too recent to be called a good mother and Elena cries and cries and cries and…

You take a deep breath. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat, hating that you are lying to her. It’s not okay! None of it is okay. “Mama’s here, Lela, Mama’s here. You’re safe.” 

Your voice trembles, and she hears the weakness of your tone, unconvinced and uncomforted, failed by the woman who is supposed to guide her through all of her storms as steady as the sun’s movement each passing hour. Elena’s cries continue unabated, her small frame wracked with sobs as she clings to you, squeezing your skin tightly in a way that tells you that you are not enough. 

You, alone, are not enough for her. 

You can’t do this. 

With your arms holding her securely in place, you dip down slightly, grasping your phone from the tote bag it’s shaded in. It has been warmed by the sun anyway, but the heat of the screen as you press it to your ear is nothing in comparison to the burning in your chest, the fire her cries have ignited in a way that destroys everything in you. 

She continues to scream into your body as the dial tone buzzes and beeps three times, picked up on the fourth as if she has been counting the rings.

“Dime,” Alexia’s gruff voice huffs out, unimpressed that you have called her after refusing for the past month, seemingly always busy. Anya and Gio had given her excuses; you were busy talking to Leah, you were in a meeting, you didn’t want to speak to her. “Now is not a good time.” 

You only manage to breath out her name before she understands that something is seriously wrong. 

“Alexia, it’s Elena… she’s… she’s crying, she hasn’t stopped. Alexia, I-I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice breaking. You know she will be able to hear the sobs coming from the toddler, her voice mighty and fierce despite how small she seems. “She hasn’t slept at all, and it just… happened. I can’t calm her down.” 

“Is she hurt?” 

“No, no,” you stutter, words tumbling out in a rush, “I don’t think so.” 

“What do you mean ‘hasn’t slept’? Not even a nap?” 

You shake your head, panicked. At Alexia’s lack of response, you remember that she is not here with you. You swallow your own sobs. “She’s been sharing a room with Nico and everything’s been fine, except, last night, she wouldn’t sleep. It was like she was terrified of it. She begged me to let her sleep with me, so I brought her into my bed and, I don’t know, it didn’t help. I tried to tire her out, read to her, sang to her, told her off, comforted her, but she wouldn’t and so I drifted off and she didn’t and we were relaxing today – it’s just us, today – and she started crying half an hour ago and hasn’t stopped.” 

As if on cue, Elena’s sobs grow louder, piercing through the phone line in a way that makes both you and Alexia feel sick. But Alexia has heard these before, and has kept them from you for a very good reason.

“She’s exhausted,” Alexia decides calmly. “She’ll cry herself to sleep.” 

“She doesn’t want to sleep!” you snap, frustrated. 

“She’s scared you are going to leave her. She usually… she usually cries for you, when she’s with me. I guess not seeing me has flipped it.” 

“Usually?” 

You pale. 

“Usually, Alexia?” 

You hear a sigh. “Do you want me to talk to her?” she asks, ignoring your horrified question. “Rub her back and keep touching her, so that she knows you’re there. I’ll… I’ll see if I can get her to calm down a bit so that you can – you need a breather, don’t you?” 

“My daughter is crying as though the world is about to end.” 

“Well, for her, it feels like it is. Put me on speaker.” 

You obey her instruction, reclining on the lounger so that Elena is now curled on top of you, wetting your chest with her tears. You place the phone near her head, both hands trying desperately to remind her that she is not alone. 

“Lela, petita, no estàs sola. Estoy aquí, y Mama también. Mai et deixarem.” 

Elena sniffles, surprised by the sound of Alexia’s voice. 

“That’s it, darling,” you encourage as the sobs are quickly replaced by resigned whimpering. Alexia continues to talk, hardly understandable as you let yourself succumb to your own emotions, your tears running down the sides of your face, hands still drawing circles on your daughter’s back. “That’s it,” you whisper. 

Alexia hangs up when she hears both of you breathing deeply, slowly, softly; fast asleep. 

…

She wipes the sweat from her brow, more exhausted from this than the gym session she had stepped out of. 

“What was that about?” Codi asks her curiously, taken in the blush in her captain’s cheeks, the slight dent in her lips from where she has bitten them. “Rather inappropriate to pick up a booty call when we’re this close,” she pinches her fingers together, “to the semis, no?” 

“Elena won’t sleep with her either,” Alexia says, if not because she needs to tell someone then because she relishes in the embarrassment that clouds Laia’s face as she hurries to take her comment back. 

“I thought you’d overcome it,” Laia replies sadly. “She was sleeping the whole night in her own bed, wasn’t she? That was only two months ago.” 

“She can’t deal with it, Codi.” Her sigh is a little more heartbroken than what is fitting for such a communal area, but Alexia does not care that her hunched shoulders have caught Irene’s attention, the defender well-acquainted with the signs of family issues. “She can’t deal with the back-and-forth. She is only three.”

“It has been a year,” comforts her friend. “Maybe she needs more time to adjust.” 

“Laia, you did not hear her. She cried like she was going to die, and I felt like I was going to die with her. You know how Y/n is with… You remember what it was like when Nico was a baby, when he wouldn’t stop crying. We were lucky that Elena didn’t have that, or that the doctors were more vigilant or whatever, but… I was keeping this from her for a reason.” 

Alexia doesn’t want to guilt you back to her. There is the slightest possibility that, if you were to know just how much Elena has been struggling while away from you, you would suffer through your heartbreak and pretend everything was fine, just to make her happy. Just to make their lives easier. 

But Alexia knows. Alexia knows you wake up every day and relive it again and again. She sees the repulsion in your eyes when you look at her – she saw it through the wine and the pleasure. 

She knows you smoke, she knows the rumours about the parties you go to are mostly true. She knows that the album is about her, and that the success didn’t taste sweet because it exploited your heartbreak. 

She knows that you don’t feel anything towards Leah Williamson, that you’re only trying to get her attention or fill her place. 

Alexia knows all of this, because you are a part of her. She knows how you feel like she knows where her right hand is, and, the worst part about that, is that she knows it is all entirely her fault. 

“Irene, where is Mateo?! Alexia needs her little person hugs!” shouts Laia, sympathy hidden by her teasing tone, which Alexia is very grateful for. “Get the nen, and get him now!” 

…

The unopened ring box travels with you to Australia. 

Spain’s failure to lose has led them to the World Cup Final, and while you are going to support your own country, Elena and Nico are dressed in ALEXIA jerseys, yellow and red stripes painted onto their chubby cheeks. 

You had found out, after the Elena incident, that your friends had been lying to Alexia for your peace of mind, or so they claimed. 

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that you called Leah before you left for Bali and told her that you couldn’t be with her. Or that Gio and Anya had been meddling, going as far as to calculatedly gift Nico an iPad in preparation for a summer of trying to save you from a broken heart. 

So… you send her a heads-up that you’ll be attending the final, wish her luck (but not too much, for the sake of the Lionesses), and ensure the children are down for naps so that they have energy to party late into the night regardless of the outcome. 

As a desperate, short-term solution while separate from Alexia, you had your manager seek out the best paediatrician in Bali and get a reasonable prescription for melatonin, just so that Elena can sleep. You plan to let Alexia focus on her tournament and bring up the issue when preseason starts, aware that drugging the child to sleep is definitely not the best option. 

With another hour of sleep in their systems, you have time to re-pack your suitcases, ready to leave the next day. 

And you are reminded of your unopened gift. 

Alexia had said to open it when you were home, but you reason that home is with your children, and home, due to your career, is often also in the hotel suites in foreign countries. 

You root through the piles of neatly-folded clothes, searching for the box you had buried at the bottom. Its velvet edges are soft under the wrapping paper and the box is sitting in the palm of your hand, naked now, before you realise what you are doing. 

The lid flicks open, and you prepare yourself to see something shiny, some insanely expensive diamond that certainly won’t fix all that she has done. 

But you brace for nothing, for inside the box lies only a slip of paper. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in aged, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Your old phone number. 

You remember this. 

It was the night you first kissed Alexia, or, rather, she kissed you. You’d been at some FC Barcelona event, and you’d gone outside because you had realised it might not have been acceptable for Alexia to hit on you in front of all those people, no matter how much she had wanted to. 

You’d smoked to get her attention, to get her to tell you off. To start a conversation. And you had loved her from the minute she kissed you, so tentative, so unsure. 

The boarding pass is sentimental, and you are amazed at the condition it is in, or even the fact that she still has it. 

You drop the box, plucking the paper from the slit it had been situated in, unfolding it, examining it with tears in your eyes. 

You turn it over in your palm, re-acquainting yourself with your memories from that evening. 

And you notice fresh, blue ink written on the back of the boarding pass. 

It’s Alexia’s handwriting, this time, though neater than usual, having clearly taken care to form her letters correctly. 

Can we start again? it says.

There is a drawing of three stick women, short dresses, high ponytails, too. One is circled, an arrow leaping out of the wobbly shape. That one is labelled with your name, and, underneath, ‘esta es mi favorita y me casaré con ella algún día’. 

Marta once told you, at the expense of her club captain, that that had been Alexia’s only comment about you back when they were all obsessed with your break-out girl group and could never talk about anything else. 

Twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas knows that her mistakes have lost her many battles, but twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas also knows that her love will win her the war. Because there you are, and nothing is worth fighting for more than you. 

(to get back to the main post)

[terresdebrume]

"I won't let them touch you" for your dead boy detective agency boys

Thanks for the prompt friend! :D Sorry it took so long, I was at work and then I got plagued with The Insecurities

This fits the possessive side of things slightly better than the dramatic one? Idk. I feel like I've failed to comply with the rules, even though I like the snippet x)

Anyway, thanks again, and if anyone else wants to send a prompt the list is right there

The sun beats down on the town square, bright enough to hide the outside world behind a veil of golden light and turn cousin Katherine's dress into a blinding beacon of virginal purity. Whatever one thinks of the concept, Edwin admits to himself, there is no denying that summer weddings occasionally provide such vivid image as to at least explain how it may have come to be. Nevertheless, he stays away. Of his three cousins, Katherine is the one he always felt the most kinship for, and he would not have missed this ceremony for the world, and yet--Edwin's knuckles brush together, gloveless skin shot through with electricity at the realization, and Edwin jolts his hands apart again. He tries to shove them into his pockets, only to pull them out once more when he remembers not to break the lines of his navy suit. Trying to settle them at his side proves no more fruitfull: the pose feels unnatural and constrictive, as if his hands were pulling against some kind of invisible tie.

"Here," Charles says, stepping between Edwin and the aisle, the lean line of him neatly obscuring the sight of Edwin's hands. "Have at it for a minute, yeah?"

It takes a moment for Edwin to understand, and when he does hit throat immediately constricts with emotion. They have never truly talked about this quirk of Edwin's. Not in the way they perhaps should have, at any rate. It is largely Edwin's fault: for all that he has learned to pursue his interests more openly and unashamedly, there are some areas of his life he has yet to dare confront. Cut and dry is all well and good, but even he can be made to appreciate the value of ambiguity. And so: they haven't talked about it. The way Edwin's fists knead against one another without thought whenever he feels tense, the way he rarely wears less than three layers of clothing if he can help it. The way busy weeks at work make him come home impatient to shed them, the very contact of cloth against his skin so intense as to feel like pain. The way loud noises make him want to stick a pencil in his ears, sometimes.

They haven't talked about it, but Charles took note anyway, and never once expected Edwin to change. Edwin, almost overcome with gratitude, lets out a long, quiet sigh of relief, and leans forward until his forehead can rest against the back of Charles' neck.

"It's no use, you know," he sighs, murmuring to ensure his voice won't be carried out to where his paternal grandmother is slowly walking towards the door. "The minute they see--"

He does not stop himself from pressing his fists together this time. Doesn't try to ignore the tightness of his shoulder, or the beating of his heart--and because he doesn't try to pretend they aren't here, they grow smaller. More manageable, in a way, than they ever were when he was alone. Without quite meaning to, Edwin smiles down at the back of Charles' suit, red in a sea of greys and blues. Here, hidden behind Charles, Edwin knows no one will try to pull his hands apart.

"You don't worry about them," Charles says, quiet but firm. "I won't let them touch you."

Charles once slapped Edwin's father's hands in the middle of dinner at the Ritz, all for the crime of trying to stop Edwin from mashing his fists together. Edwin belives his latest proclamation immediately, and without reservation. Still:

"You cannot fight my entire family," he says, just for the pleasure of hearing Charles put on his cocky voice and retort:

"Just you watch. First one to look a little too close gets whooped on their bum."

Edwin, despite himself, finds himself chuckling, straightening up until he can look at Charles properly. The light from outside lines the edge of his cheek in golden light the hoop in his ear as bright as a halo. He is a flame in the darkness of the church, bright and warm as a fire in the hearth. Edwin, born and raised in the icy cold of a winter lake, can never get enough.

"Surely," he says, "you don't meant Granny Gladys."

"Especially Granny Gladys," Charles retorts. "I'm not gonna turn my back and let her get me with her rollator."

Edwin, with some difficulty, bites down on a burst of laughter. In front of him, Charles turns his head just far enough to flash a wicked grin, sharp and shameless in a way that makes Edwin's stomach expand into the warmest of feelings. Charles must see something in his face then, because he turns serious, hands coming up to frame Edwin's face as he looks into his eyes and says:

"I'm serious you know. If your father tries to slap your hands again, I really will send him down on his arse."

"I believe you", Edwin says, insides turning embarrassingly gooey at the fierceness of Charles' tone.

"Good," Charles says, still frowning in intensity. "There's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with your hands. I know I haven't been where I should have been--"

"Charles," Edwin interrupts, heart picking up speed with the alacrity of a racing car, "you don't--"

"No, listen to me," Charles insists, hands pulling gently at the sides of Edwin's face until their foreheads touch, "no more hand slaps. No more eye contact. I couldn't be with you these past seven years, and I'm sorry--but I'm here, now, and I don't care what anyone in your family says, as far as I'm concerned, unless you want to, you don't have to look anyone in the eye ever again."

Edwin stares, half feeling like he is about to liquefy. He feels so, so warm here in the coolness of that church, warm like the sun in spring after a long winter. Warm like a nice sweater on a winter evening. Warm like Charles' smile, like the way he only ever takes Edwin's hand in his with love, like the way the only thing he ever did with Edwin's fist was wrap his hands around them like a shield. Edwin stares, and swallows hard, and catches Charles into a crushing hug before he can do something absolutely daft like kiss him right here, where all his family could see.

[dreamcatchers-husband]

The City Of Love And Secrets

Male Reader X Kim Sejeong

Length: 7.6k +

Tags: Couple, Creampie.

A/n- First work in a while. Hope its ok

Paris. The city of love. Everyone has heard that saying and it was honestly true. From your first steps off the plane, you just felt your emotions heighten somehow. Sure it could have been a placebo effect just knowing you were there but either way, you could just feel the love in the air. 

Your walk through the airport was almost robotic until you felt a tap on your shoulder. Looking to the side you saw Sejeong smiling at you and handing you a bottle of water. 

“Drink. You slept for most of that flight so I imagine you are thirsty.” 

Taking a sip of the water, you continued to walk throughout the airport eventually reaching the luggage pick-up section. A few minutes go by as the two of you just stood there in silence, your fingers fidgeting. The sound of a slam gets you back to your senses as you see the luggage begin to fall down the conveyor belt. 

Different kinds of suitcases move around on the belt as you see the familiar blue from your couple set. Picking them up, you check to see if your names were on them. Once you saw that the bags were both yours, you picked them off the belt and placed them on the floor. 

Pulling out the handles, the two of you made your way to the exit to the airport. The flashing cameras were already going off as you got closer and closer to that door. Finally, near the door, you saw your security team waiting to escort you. With a quick nod, the men formed a circle around the two of you as you walked out the door. 

The yelling from the cameraman was very apparent as they were not happy that they couldn’t take any shots of the star in front of them. The yells from your security team rang in your ears as you took slower and slower steps until the circle was opened, showing you the front door to the black car. 

Stretching out your hand, you then let Sejeong enter the car as you followed behind her. Once in, the door gets closer as the camera flashes continue to go off. The sound of the trunk closing gets your attention as the car begins to move little by little. The honking from the horn continued to echo in the air until police began to push the paparazzi from the car. Finally free the Mercedes picked up speed In the street. 

“Well, that was quite the event. I’m glad I scheduled that security to be there for us.” 

“I didn’t expect people to know who I was. That honestly was a surprise.” 

“I knew it would be like this. Your fame blew up thanks to the Netflix show. Fashion week here in Paris is also a massive thing, so anyone invited to these shows would get surrounded by paparazzi as well.” 

“Well thank you for planning appropriately. That’s why you're my favorite manager.” 

“I’m your only manager.” 

“Exactly. That makes you my favorite manager either way.” 

Laughter filled the car as you slid your hand towards Sejeong’s, taking hold of it. A smile filled your face as you looked towards your girlfriend, Her smile was just as big as your own. The ride from the airport to your hotel continued as you finally made it to the front door. This place just looked amazing from the outside. 

The white exterior was somehow very pleasant to the eyes as you opened the door to the car. Stepping out, you reached out and helped Sejeong step out of the vehicle as well. Bellboys soon grabbed your luggage as they then pointed towards the front door. Following their lead, you made your way into the hotel. 

The hotel kept its older look which was honestly perfect. It’s kept that romantic feeling you had felt earlier coming off the plane. Getting to the reception desk you stood in front of a French woman who gave you a big smile. 

“Welcome to the Ritz Paris. May I know the name your reservation is under?”

“Yes, it’s under the name Park Dong-Yul.” 

Once you said your name, the woman began to search for your name on the computer. The repeated clacking from the keyboard came to a stop as the receptionist looked up and smiled at you. 

“I see you have the presidential suite reserved for two weeks as well as another room on the floor below. It is a great suite and I am sure you will enjoy it there. Now I see that your stay is already paid for so I will just hand you the key cards.”

Once the cards were programmed, the front desk worker handed them to you and smiled. 

“I hope you enjoy your stay here. The bellboys will help bring up your luggage.”

“Thank you.” 

Grabbing the cards, you followed the bellboys as they escorted you to the nearest elevator. Once you entered you saw that the elevator had one of the scanners that the doors had for key cards. 

“Mr.Park. May I ask you to scan your key card? You will need to use it each time you want to get up to the penthouse floor.” 

With a quick nod, you scanned your keycard on the elevator panel and pressed the round button labeled P. As the doors closed, you felt a small jolt come from the elevator as it commenced its journey up. The ride was short as the hotel was not that tall, so a ding from the elevator came quickly. Once the doors opened, you stepped out and followed the bellboys to your front door. 

“Just scan your key card and you can enter your home for the next few weeks.” 

Scanning the card, a small beep rang out as the lock to the door came undone. Pulling down on the handle, you pushed the door open and held your hand out to Sejeong. As she took hold of it, you both went inside your suite and began to take a look around. As the bellboy entered and placed your bags in the living room. 

Taking out a bit of money, you handed it to the bellboy and he said his goodbyes leaving just Sejeong and yourself in the room. Taking a look around, you saw a big living room with a nice tv and couch. Walking towards the bedroom, you saw how big the one bed was with a giant frame holding the mattress. 

A few more steps bring you to the bathroom. The massive glass shower was in the corner as you saw a big bathtub at the edge of the wall. The double vanity was perfect for getting the 2 of you ready at the same time.

“Really is a beautiful suite.” 

“Yeah, it is.” 

Taking a few steps closer, Sejeong then hugged you and looked into your eyes.

“We should freshen up.” 

Kissing Sejeong on her forehead, you nod your head in agreement and pull back from her. Your girlfriend then began to remove her clothes in a hurry and jumped into the shower. Following her example you did the same. 

Entering the shower, your body was quickly hit with the warm water from the shower head. With her back facing you, your arms wrapped around your girlfriend's waist and pulled her close to your own body. Your lips went to her neck and began to pepper it with small kisses up and down her collar. 

“Mhmmm. Already? We just got here.” 

“Can you blame me? Your body just drives me feral.” 

Lowering your hands, your fingers got closer to Sejeong’s folds until you felt her hand grab you.

“As much as I would love to have a little session, we should get ready for today. This is the only chance we have.” 

Much to your dismay, your hands pulled back and Sejeong grabbed the soap. Spreading it all over her body, your hands helped lather her smooth skin. Your fingertips could feel every bump and curve on your girlfriend's body as they helped her reach all the parts of her body. 

Once done with her, Sejeong did the same to your own body with a few little slaps to your ass while she was at it. The shower came to an end as the water washed away the remaining soap from your bodies, down the drain. 

Stepping out of the shower, you grabbed some towels and got both of you dry. Once dry, you made your way over to your luggage and began to pull some clothes from your suitcase. The striped red dress shirt you threw on matched Sejeong’s orange top. The top was a little shorter showing a bit of her stomach before reaching her black jeans. Throwing a brown blazer on top, her outfit was complete. 

Once you finished putting on your dull outfit and grabbing a small box from your backpack, you saw Sejeong walking back to you after putting the phone down. Taking hold of your hand, Sejeong then smiled and looked into your eyes. 

“I already requested a cab for us. There should be one for us in a few minutes. We should probably head down.” 

“Sounds good. After you, my dear.” 

Heading to the door, your legs followed behind your girlfriend to the elevator. Pressing the button, the elevator dinged as the doors opened. Stepping on, your girlfriend pressed the button to go down to the lobby. As the doors closed, the elevator gave a little jolt as it went down a few floors. 

That small ding returned as the elevator doors opened once more. Stepping off with Sejeong, the two of you hand in hand walked towards the exit and made your way outside. Seeing the familiar Yellow hue of a taxi, you made your way over and opened the door for Sejeong. Jumping in after her you fastened your seat belt and looked at the driver. 

“Near the Eiffel Tower please.” 

With a simple nod, the man began to drive as Sejeong laid her head on your shoulder. The drive was rather short but silent. Neither you nor Sejeong spoke the entire time. The only sound that your ears picked up was your heartbeat. 

Stepping out of the yellow vehicle, the masses of tourists all around crowded both you and Sejeong as you both began to walk. Knowing your girlfriend would want a picture to commemorate this trip, your legs continued to look for a good spot. 

Finding an empty street with the national landmark in view, the two of you made your way to the middle of the road and looked at the giant tower. No cars came down the stone road as Sejeong pulled out her phone and handed it to you. 

As the Idol began to pose, you pulled up the camera app on her phone and began to take pictures of her. Each image that filled your screen brought a wider and wider smile to your face. She was your happiness, and you never want her to be gone. 

As Sejeong walked back over, you were reminded of the plan once you saw some documents in her hand. Bringing your head back up, Sejeong smiled and took hold of your left hand. 

“It’s just over there. Let’s go!” 

Filled with energy, the two of you ran down the street like a young couple in a K-drama. Arriving in front of the nice building, the two of you walked to the front door that had two main words written on it. Town Hall.

Pulling the glass door open, Sejeong ran in leaving you to follow her brown jacket to the reception desk. Getting closer, you saw Sejeong trying and failing at communicating with the woman at the desk. She was good at understanding English but not the best speaker.

“I’m sorry. She’s a little enthusiastic. What floor can I find the family and children department?” 

“Third floor. On the right-hand side once you step off the elevator.”

Despite the woman’s heavy accent, you managed to understand what she said. Thanking the woman, you followed what she said and walked over to the elevator, and hopped on. Selecting the third floor, the metal cage closed its doors and made the quick trip up. 

When the doors opened, you took hold of Sejeong's hands and walked out of the elevator. On the left side, a giant staircase could be found that probably led back to the lobby. Going to the right, you began to follow the arrows to a door at the end of the hallway. 

Getting closer you began to see on the door the words in French were written as well as in English, Family and children. As your hand went on the handle, you began to feel Sejeong’s hand tremble as it was intertwined with your own. 

Feeling that, you let go of the handle and look back at Sejeong. 

“Hey. you ok?” 

“Y-Yeah. Just nervous about it all. W-What will people say? What will the company say?”

“A-Are you having doubts? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you felt pressured I’m-“ 

“No. I never felt pressured, Dongyul. I ran here with you, remember? It’s just that so much could go wrong. First, the company could fire you let alone-“

“Sejeong, dear. I couldn’t care less about what people will say or think. The only thing that matters to me is your response to this. Do you love me?” 

“Don’t ask me stupid questions. Of course, I love you.” 

“That’s all that matters. We don’t need to do this today. We can just go enjoy the day and do this in the future. I will wait as long as you need me to. I will love you for the rest of my life, even if we never did this.

Walking away from the door, you felt your feet stop in their tracks as Sejeong pulled you back. Wrapping you in her arms, your girlfriend dug her head into your chest and stayed there for a bit. 

“Let’s do it. You could have gotten mad that we made it all the way here but didn’t go through with it. Instead, you wanted to make sure I’m ok and will do anything to make me happy. Even wait for a time I’m 100%, be that today or never. The fact is my life as an idol will always bring me doubts about stuff but the one thing I don’t doubt is how much I love you. Let’s go.” 

A smile filled your face as you reached for the door handle and turned it. Walking into the room, you found a woman at the reception desk looking at the two of you entering. 

“Welcome to the Family and Children department. How can I help you? Do you have an appointment?” 

Luck was on your side as the woman spoke very good English.

“Um no but we were hoping to get a ceremony held today.” 

“What type of ceremony?” 

Sejeong took a step forward and smiled. 

“My boyfriend and I would like to get married.” 

The woman at that time stood up from her seat and gave you an expression that could only be described as delighted. 

“Oh, my god. Do you know how long it’s been since we had a wedding here? Let me call the mayor and he will come down from his office right now!” 

Picking up the phone, the middle-aged woman began to press several buttons on the landline and then put the receiver to her ear. 

“I wonder how long it’s been since they had a wedding here. She seemed way too excited to have to do a ceremony.” 

“I would assume they have one of these done every 15 minutes. There wasn’t even a line here at all.” 

Before you could continue your conversation the woman came running up to the two of you and began to push you out the door. Pulling you both to the stairs the woman began to speak once more. 

“Let’s go up a floor and we will meet the Mayor in his office. Did your two bring witnesses to sign on the marriage certificate?” 

“Shit. I might have forgotten about that part.” 

“Well typically we would reject you but I can sign and the mayor's secretary can sign as well. Just don’t tell anyone we will do it for you.” 

Your fiancé at that time chuckled and gave you a flick to the forehead. Finally, up the stairs, you found several rooms in a hallway. Following the woman, you made it to the door at the end of the hallway. As she opened it, you saw what seemed to be a desk in the room. Once in, you saw that there was another door next to the desk. 

As the younger woman saw you three enter, she waved at you all to walk over and stood up. 

“Perfect. He’s in his office waiting. I’m Michelle.” 

“Wow, your English is very good. The two of you have no accent at all.” 

“We were both raised in America. I will act as the translator even though Celine, who you met downstairs could do it as well. Now let’s head in with you and your fiancé.” 

Walking to the door. You turned the handle and found a man standing next to a table. Sejeong's hand began to tremble once more as you finally were face to face with the man that would join the two of you for life.

“Accueillir. Est-ce que vous êtes le couple que je vais épouser?”

Michelle then walked forward and spoke. 

“He said, " Welcome. Are the two of you the couple I will marry? His name is Pierre Blanc. 

“Ah tell him yes. We thank him for taking the time out of his day to do this for us.”

Michelle then translated back what you said. The mayor then replied.

“Bien. Les gens ne se marient plus à Paris.” 

“He said “Well. People have not been getting married in Paris anymore.” 

“Yeah, Celine mentioned something like that. Why?” 

“Ah well. This Generation doesn’t seem to want to go with the old-school traditions. Most couples seem to want to just keep things casual now.” 

“Well I understand those thoughts that people had but we have both been suckers for old romance stories.” 

Looking at Sejeong, you saw a large smile on her face as she nodded at your statement. Soon the rest of the people in the room began to grab things as you continued to look at her. 

“Sorry, you can't participate much in all these conversations.” 

“Eh, it’s ok. I understand what you guys are saying. Feels like you are translating for work as always. All I need to know is two words. I do.” 

“Sorry to interrupt but we are almost ready just fill out some of this paperwork and we can start. For the ceremony, He will give a bit of a speech and then ask you the question. I will be translating it all.”

Filling out the paperwork given, you both handed it to Michelle and gave it to the Mayor. The two of you stood in front of the Mayor. The speech he gave was on the long side but each sentence just somehow made you happier. Finally, the time the two of you were waiting for came. 

“Maintenant. Dongyul, Sejeong. le temps est venu. puis-je confirmer que vous êtes tous les deux ici de votre propre gré?”

“He said “Now. Dongyul, Sejeong. the time has come. Can I confirm you are both here of your own will?”

“Yes, I am here of my own free will.” 

With a bit of a struggle, Sejeong replied. 

“Yes me here want.” 

“Some chuckles left everyone’s mouths as they heard your fiancé’s English. 

“Merci d'avoir confirmé. Nous le faisons avec tous les étrangers. Le mariage est quelque chose qui peut être compliqué parfois, mais toujours une belle chose. Je pense que mon discours a pris beaucoup de temps, alors allons-y.”

Looking at Michelle you waited for her translation.

“Thank you for confirming. We do this with all foreigners. Marriage is something that can be complicated at times but is still a beautiful thing. I think my speech took up a lot of time so let’s get to it.” 

Looking back at the mayor he began to speak once more.

“Dongyul. Prends-tu Sejeong pour femme ? Aimer et tenir pour le reste de votre vie, à travers la maladie et en bonne santé ? Les moments faciles et les plus difficiles?”

“Dongyul. Do you take Sejeong to be your wife? To love and to hold for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health? the easy times and the hard ones?”

“I do.” 

With a smile, The mayor now turned to Sejeong. 

“Sejeong. Prenez-vous Dongyul pour mari ? Aimer et tenir pour le reste de votre vie, à travers la maladie et en bonne santé ? Les moments faciles et les plus difficiles?

“Sejeong. Do you take Dongyul to be your husband? To love and to hold for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health? The easy times and the hard ones?”

“I do.” 

“Très bien alors. Je vais sauter le reste de mon discours puisque je vous ai déjà ennuyé tous les deux. Pourriez-vous tous les deux signer votre certificat de mariage?”

“Very well then. I will skip through the rest of my speech since I bored you both already. Could the two of you please sign on your marriage certificate?

Stepping forward, the two of you were handed pens by Celine and reached down to the certificate. Signing your name on one line, Sejeong did the same and placed her own on the table.

“Now me and Celine will sign as the witnesses to your marriage.” 

The two pens that were used by you and Sejeong were picked up by Celine and Michelle and quickly put to use signing on the paper. Once done, the entire room began to clap suddenly, scaring both you and Sejeong. 

“Félicitations. Vous êtes maintenant mari et femme. Vous pouvez embrasser la mariée.”

“He said, “Congratulations. You are now Husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” 

Hearing those words made your heart race as the ceremony was now over. The mayor skipped over a lot of other stuff and just married the two after his long speech. Without hesitation, your hands went to your wife’s cheeks as you pulled her in for a deep kiss. The two of you kissed for a few seconds until you pulled back. 

Pulling out the small box you grabbed earlier from your room. You flipped the lid open and showed her the wedding bands inside. Pulling out her box, Sejeong showed you the engagement ring you bought her a year ago. She couldn’t wear it publicly but always showed it to her closest friends. The small diamond stone in the center was just perfect according to your wife. Now she could proudly wear it as well as the band once everyone knows she was married. 

Taking out her ring. Sejeong handed it to you to put on her. Lining it up with her ring finger, you pushed it forward as the circular accessory fit just perfectly around her appendage. Now that the engagement right was on, you proceeded to push the wedding band above the engagement ring. Just as with the previous accessory, it fit perfectly ok her finger. 

Grabbing your wedding band, Your beloved wife did the same thing and pushed the ring around your finger. It’s official, you were her husband and she was your wife. 

Giving your thanks to all of the parties involved, the two of you began to run out of the office and to the staircase. Despite taking the elevator before, your hand pulled Sejeong down the stairs visiting each floor before reaching the lobby. 

As you got closer to the door, your mind told you to do something a bit stupid. With your left hand on the door, you looked back and yelled. 

“I JUST MARRIED THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD. HER NAME IS KIM SEJEONG SO BACK OFF IF YOU HEAR THAT NAME!”

“Dongyul!”

Pressing on the door, you pulled Sejeong out of the building and continued to run, hearing the laughter from your betrothed. Once a bit of a distance from the town hall, you stopped running and looked at your new wife. 

“So what’s the plan? Dinner? A walk?” 

A smile filled Sejeong’s face as She raised her hand. From the corner of your eyes, you saw a taxi pull up next to both of you and stop. The black vehicle had its doors pinned by you, welcoming Sejeong inside. 

Once the two of you were inside, your wife spoke up to the driver, directing him back to the hotel. As the Four wheels of the car began to spin, you turned towards Sejeong and gave her a confused look. 

“Let’s just go back. Ignore him. Kiss me.” 

Without hesitation, your hands grabbed Your wife’s face and pulled her toward your lips. No matter how many times you kissed her, it always felt like the first time with how your heart fluttered. Pushing your tongue forward, the two of you fought for dominance over who would lead. As your hands began to move from her face, a cough caught your attention from the front of the cab.

“No kiss!” 

The older man seemed very angry at the action taking place in the back of his vehicle. All you could assume was that the old man had seen plenty of nasty things in there and wasn’t about to see another one take place.

“Sorry.” 

A small giggle left the both of you as the man rolled his eyes. The drive continued in silence until you saw the familiar white outline of the hotel. Arriving at the entrance, you pulled out some cash and handed it to the driver. Angrily he took the cash and pointed at the door, telling you both to exit.

A bellboy at the time opened the cab door and welcomed you both outside. Going to the entrance, you and Sejeong walked hand in hand to the elevator. The entire staff continued to give you happy looks as they saw you both walk in a brand new couple. Well, newlywed couple. 

After the short trek, you arrived at the door of your hotel room. Scanning the keycard, the two of you entered and arrived in the living room. 

“So, my dear wife. Why did we return to our room? We still have plenty of the city to explore.” 

“Well, I think in honor of our wedding day, we should keep things simple as well as revisit a memory. Do you remember our first date?” 

“Of course I do. It was your first trip to Japan in 2017. The rest of your members went to sleep but we both stayed up in my room having room service and watching a movie. I was so scared of confessing that day but it turned out you felt the same.” 

“Well, that’s what we will do. Let’s order room service and just watch a movie. We don’t need anything fancy to commemorate today. Well, anything else.”

“Then I’ll order some food, you put something on to watch.” 

With a nod, Sejeong went and turned on the tv while you picked up the phone. After ordering various foods, you made your way to the couch and sat next to your beloved. 

“I connected my phone to the tv. I didn’t manage to see last week's episode of Amazing Saturday if you don’t mind.” 

“Anything you want my dear wife.” 

Taking off your shoes, you laid down and pulled Sejeong on top of you. The idol stayed on top of you as her head laid on your chest. A couple of minutes went by as Sejong spoke up. 

“Taeyeon Sunbae is so pretty. Do you think she has a partner?” 

“Why? You want to divorce me for her already?” 

“If she’s interested I wouldn't say no.”

With a laugh, you brought your head down and kissed her on the forehead. A few minutes went by as you both played along with the game the cast members were playing that episode. A sudden knock got the attention of both of you away from the tv. Pausing the episode, you both stood up and made your way to the exit.

As the wooden door opened, you saw a man with a pushcart standing there with your food. Welcoming the man inside, he proceeded to push the cart into the room. Once he arrived at the kitchen, you stopped moving the cart and gave him both a quick nod. Handing him a bit of cash, the man thanked you both and made his way out of the room. 

Grabbing a few plates, you both brought the food into the living room and placed it on the table. You had a nice steak dish with Demi glazed vegetables. Sejeong had grilled salmon with stir-fried vegetables on the side. Without saying anything, the two of you dug into your meals and shared the different plates of food. As soon as one was done, you got up and went for the next in the kitchen. 

After a bit, The two of you felt the after-effects of stuffing down 3 plates of food. At this point, an older episode of Amazing Saturday started playing as you both were done eating. Despite this being your wedding day, it almost felt like just a normal date. 

“Dongie. Can you believe it? We’re married. I never thought this day would come.” 

“We managed to keep our relationship hidden for six years now. Of course, we were ready for the next step. The only woman I want in my life is you. Screw the repercussions.” 

“God I love you. Today has honestly felt like a romance movie or a dream. I don’t want to wake up if it is one.” 

“This isn’t a dream. Do my lips not feel real?” 

Pulling Sejeong a bit closer, you gave her lips a few quick pecks which made her smile. 

“Mhmm, I might need a little more convincing this isn’t a dream.” 

“How about this?”

From her lips, you began to give her cheek a few small kisses and then moved down to her neck. The constant pecks on her collar caused the idol to begin to moan out loud. With your arms, you quickly picked up your wife and began to stumble around the room. After a few small bumps, your bodies arrived in the bedroom and got next to the mattress. 

Placing Sejeong down, you both pulled away from each other and stared at each other in a state of lust. No words needed to be said as you both tore each other's clothes off in a matter of seconds. As you saw the nude body of your wife, your cock began to twitch from the marvelous sight. 

With a smirk on her face, Sejeong dropped to her knees and took hold of your dick. As her warm hands began to stroke your shaft, you felt her left hand wrap around your balls and play with them. 

“Wow. They feel so full. Have you been waiting for our wedding night?”

“F-Fuck yes. We didn’t have time with your schedule.” 

“Well. We have all night now.”

Your whole body began to shiver as Sejeong’s tongue began to move up your length. The small movements from her tongue made you anticipate what was to come. As your wife’s tongue reached the top, her lips suddenly wrapped around your tip and began to give it small sucks. As a moan left your mouth, Sejeong smirked at your response.

With each suck, your wife increased the intensity of the action. Your back hit the wall Sejeong began to move her head down on your length. Placing your hand on her head, you began to move Sejeong further down on your cock with each bob. As your beloved’s eyes met with your own, she gave you a sign to be tougher. 

With a thrust, your length began to reach the back of Sejeong’s throat. Small noises left her mouth as you continued your thrusts in her mouth. Both of your wife’s hands grabbed your legs as she began to move them even farther than before. With the next thrust, Sejeong held her throat down on your length. The constricting feeling of her mouth was something that you loved. 

After a few seconds, your partner pulled her head back and removed her mouth from your cock. 

“Fuck Sejeong. How do you get better at this each time?” 

“Practice makes perfect, but I think we should cover our bases.” 

Raising her upper body, Sejeong pushed her breast together and wrapped your length in between them. Her soft skin blessed your length as Sejeong began to just move them around. With the help of the water, Your wife began to move up and down on your length. 

Your wife’s tits weren’t the biggest out there but they were plenty big for a tit fuck. Your hips moved and tandem with your girl as she looked up at you again. As her hands stopped squeezing her breast she immediately grabbed some soap and rubbed it all over her chest. Going back, Sejeong smooshed your length in between her lathered tits. The soap helped the speed at which you could move your cock in between. 

“Look at you, thrusting harder. What you can’t wait to cum?” 

“Fuck yes, Sejeong. Please help me cum.” 

“I’d hate for you to cum before the main event.” 

As Sejeong began to slow her breast movement down, you began to give her a pleading look that made her smile. 

“Ok. If you want to cum then cum in my mouth.”

Moving her chest away, your wife wrapped her lips around your tip once more and sucked on it. With each suck, Sejeong flicked her tongue on the end of your tip. She knew this was your weak spot. As groans began to leave your mouth, your girl gave one final flick to your tip causing you to cum. Shot after shot of your seed filled her mouth. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed after a bit But Sejeong was still sucking on your cock. Being too much, you pulled your wife off your cock and just breathed heavily. A chuckle left Sejeong’s mouth as she washed the remaining soap off her body. Once clean, your beloved turned off the water and opened the shower door. Wrapping her body in a towel she then faced you and signaled you with her finger to follow her. 

Walking backward, Sejeong went into the room as you grabbed a towel and dried yourself off quickly. Once in the room, your spouse was laying on top of the bed with the towel thrown to the side. 

“You got to cum early so you better return the favor. Come eat my pussy.” 

Approaching your beloved, you immediately dropped to your knees and got a bit closer. The smell of lavender filled your nose as you put your lips on her thighs. With the small kisses you gave her legs, your head began moving further up. 

Finally, near her entrance, your hands placed themselves on her legs and kept them wide open. The glistening look from her pussy enticed you more than you could control yourself. Just as Sejeong got ready to speak, your lips gave her pussy a small kiss. 

“Come on sweetie. Don’t tease me.” 

“Fine then.” 

With a newfound fire in your belly, you stretched your mouth wide open and gave her lips a long lick. Pushing them open, your tongue began to move into her snatch and move all around. The moans that left your wife's mouth were music to your ears. Unwrapping your arms from her legs, you brought your hand to her pussy and pushed 2 fingers in. 

Thirsting your fingers in and out, Sejeong began to moan louder as well and tense her legs a bit. Each movement of your hand was accompanied by a rapid flick of your tongue. With her pussy spread open, you eventually found her clit and moved your tongue on top of it. Your flicks started on her small nub, causing Sejeong to close her legs around your head. 

“Fuck. That’s right. Keep eating my pussy. Eat your wife’s pussy.” 

Somehow you found the muscle strength in your tongue and hand to increase your speed even further. With each squeeze around your head, your beloved began to jolt around. Soon Sejeong’s yells filled the room as you made one final attack on her clit.

Feeling her thighs crush your head, a rush of fluids hit your mouth as your wife finally came. Drinking all you could, your hand continued to move in and out of her snatch, overstimulating your girl. Pushing herself away from you, Sejeong continued to pant for air. Getting up from the floor, you laid yourself down next to her and gave her neck small kisses. A laugh left her mouth as she turned towards you and kissed your lips. 

“Fuck that tongue of yours works wonders.” 

“Probably the reason you decide to lock me down.” 

With another laugh, Sejeong pulled you in for another kiss. Pushing your tongue forward, the two of you fought for dominance until your wife mounted you. Deciding to play along, your wife pushed her tongue into your mouth and began to move it all around. Moving a hand down, Sejeong’s hand took hold of your shaft and lined it up with her slit. With a lift of her hips, Sejong filled herself with your rod. 

A grunt left your mouth as your wife moaned. Moving her hips in a circular motion, Sejong began to grind on your cock, filling the two of you with pleasure. Moving your hands down to her hips, you began to help Sejeong with her movements as your eyes basked in the sight of her breasts. 

“Come on dear. Suck on my tits. These are all yours.” 

With that invitation, your mouth went to her right breast and wrapped her erect nipple In your mouth. Starting to suck on her breast, Sejeong’s moans began to increase. The grinding from your wife’s hips increased as her slick began to leak down her legs. 

“Fuck. H-How am I going to cum already again?” 

You weren’t about to question it as you began to pick your beloved's body up and slam her down on your cock. The thrusts into her cunt mixed with the grinding and sucking on her nipple began to overwhelm Sejeong. 

“J-Just a little more. Please, Sweetie.” 

You weren’t about to disappoint your wife, so pulling the two of your flat on the bed, you began to trust your cock into her snatch and move as fast as you could. Despite not being able to grind anymore, your constant filling of her pussy pleasured your wife just as much. Raising one hand, you quickly gave her left breast a slap which caused Sejeong to scream. 

Continuing the actions, your wife moaned louder and louder until you gave her tit a final slap. This helps your wife reach her peak and let her juices all over the bed. You already played with Sejeong before, so you stopped your thrusts and laid your wife on your chest. The act which the two of you were doing could be seen as nasty but between newlyweds, it was almost beautiful. 

Hoping off your dick, Sejeong looked at you and smirked. 

“You get to cum now. How do you want me, dear husband?” 

Flipping your woman on her back, you split her legs open once more and put your length near her folds. 

“I want to look into my wife’s eyes while I continue to fuck her.” 

A smile filled her face as she got ready. Pushing in, your length was quickly enveloped by the warmth that was Sejeong’s snatch. Moving your hips slowly, your rod exited and entered your wife. The small thrusts you were giving Your beloved were interrupted by a sudden smack to your ass. 

A giggle came from Sejeong as she began to pull you down closer. As her mouth got near your ear, she began to speak. 

“I told you to fuck me so you can cum. So don’t give me some little shove into me. Shove that cock deep into my walls.” 

With a hand on each side of her waist, you raised the strength and speed at which you fucked her. Back and forth your dick went in and out of her tunnel. Raising her upper body, Sejeong pulled you in for a kiss, battling for control once more. Despite surrendering before, you were now in control. 

Your tongue pushed hers back and swirled all around her mouth. Despite losing the battle with her mouth, Sejeong was happy and began to match your thrusts. As your rod exited her pussy, your wife pulled back and slammed down hard as you entered her once more. 

Having been fucking your wife for a little bit now, your cock was already aching for release. Sejeong must have noticed this as she gave you a smirk. A constricting feeling quickly enveloped your length as she tensed the muscles in her snatch. Continuing this action, your peak got closer and closer until you knew you would explode. You need to pull out.

“S-Sejeong. I’m gonna cum.” 

“Well then. Here’s your wedding gift.” 

With her legs, Sejeong wrapped them around your waist and surprised you. 

“Cum in your wife. Give her a nice big creampie 

You knew Sejeong wasn’t on birth control but your human instincts took over as you gave one final thrust into Sejeong. Your cock quickly began to throb inside your beloved and fill her open womb with your seed. This was your first time cuming in Sejeong, and it was the best feeling ever. 

After a few seconds, your cock stopped shooting your loads in her. Dropping down on top of Sejeong, you finally took this chance to relax after your sex session with Sejeong. Laying there with your wife, you finally were hit with it all. You’re married to Kim Sejeong and she was yours forever now. 

With a kiss, you both propped yourselves up and looked at each other. 

“I can’t believe this happened. I’m married to the greatest man on earth.” 

“And I married one of the hottest girls in South Korea.” 

A smack to the back of the head made you laugh as you both just thought about everything.

“God. I might lose my job huh.” 

“No, you won’t. We got a few weeks to figure out what we are going to say. Let’s just enjoy our trip.” 

A peck on the lips distracted you as your wife then stood up. Grabbing a bottle of champagne that was in the corner, Sejeong walked towards the couch and opened it. Your wife then surprised you as she poured some champagne on her chest and signaled you to come over. 

It was going to be a long night. 

Six weeks passed and you found yourself in the jellyfish conference room. At your side, Sejeong was holding your hand that was shaking. As the door opened, the two of you stood up and bowed toward the executives. As they each took a seat, the two of you stood standing until the CEO spoke up. 

“Ok, so we are here. What was so urgent you needed to tell everyone in the company?” 

“Well, Sir. Sejeong and I would like to inform the company that we are in a relationship.” 

The silence was nerve-wracking as they just stared at you. A laugh from the CEO filled the room as he shook his head no. 

“That is not permitted. Consider yourself fired and end it.” 

Before you could get another word out, Sejeong spoke first. 

“I’m afraid that’s not possible as Dongyul and myself are married. Here is a copy of the marriage certificate.” 

The man’s laughter left as he stood up and walked over angrily. Grabbing the paper the man looked it over and then stared at the two of you. 

“When the fuck did this happen?” 

“In Paris sir. We love each other and decided we want to spend our lives with each other.” 

The room felt tense as the need just hit everyone. 

“I also have something else to say. Dongyul I was hiding this but I want to tell you I’m pregnant.” 

The old man in front of you nearly fainted hearing this final part of the news. You immediately took Sejeong into your arms and picked her up. As you spun her around you were quickly reminded where you were and stopped. 

“Dongyul will stay as my manager. I will not leave my husband and I will stay happy with my new family on the way. Let’s face it, I’m the money maker for this company and I will leave if you try anything in my relationship.” 

The executives all agreed on the spot as the CEO just sat down defeated. They all knew she was the money maker and weren’t going to argue. 

With a final nod of approval from the CEO, the two of you ran out of the room and got into the closest elevator. Taking her back into your arms, you have Sejeong a kiss and placed your hand on her stomach. 

“So we are going to get a little one?” 

“Yeah. Sorry to spring that on you but I figured that would be the best way for you to keep your job.” 

“I don’t care. I’m just happy you’re mine forever.”

Kissing her once more, a sudden ding brought you back to your senses. The doors opened on some empty floor and your wife stepped off the elevator. 

“You gonna stay there or are you gonna come fuck me in the closest room.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. This was your life now. Married to the woman of your dreams with a little one on the way. It was perfect. 

A/N 2- Not my best work in the smut but I wanted to post something since its been a while. Thank you for reading.

[dee-morris]

Finally We're Going to Talk About Crowley

I really do love them equally but you wouldn't know it from my posting history because I constantly feel the need to ride to Aziraphale's defense every other week.

Anyway we talk incessantly about Aziraphale's behavior in the last scenes of season two for obvious reasons, but I think Crowley also needs some deconstructing. His behavior is less shocking; he appears to be reacting to Aziraphale more than taking the reins of the narrative himself. But there are a few key moments I want to look at more closely.

The first thing I thought of was how nonchalant he appeared to be about his only friend going off to have a private conversation with a powerful angel who clearly loathes the sight of him. "Go ahead, the day can't get any weirder" YES IT CAN YES IT CAN but anyway, I was deeply mistaken.

The second they're out of sight he jumps to his feet and stares out the window after them, then he starts to pace around the bookshop. He stops dead when he sees Muriel and goes back to nonchalant mode. "They'll be back soon."

(In the tone, imo, of a parent waiting for their kid to come back from a date and it's past curfew and they're not answering their cell.)

And then--he immediately tries to get rid of Muriel. Who doesn't want to leave, bc "The Metatron might need me!" And you can see the "oh my sweet summer child" expression cross Crowley's face. He's still his usual casual demonic No Fucks Given self on the outside, but he doubles down on getting Muriel out of the shop.

I don't want to spit in anyone's crepes with this next bit, but I don't think the "us time" portion of this conversation was intended to be romantic. I hypothesize that Crowley had just about made up his mind to have an honest conversation with Aziraphale about his Fall and whatever tf he's got going on with the Metabitch. And the "extremely alcoholic breakfast" was what he needed to get through the conversation.

I'm wandering into the realm of speculation at this point, but I think my hypotheses are based on canon events. Crowley does not talk about his Fall with Aziraphale and discourages any mention of his angel identity. That could just be a trauma response, but you don't see the same reticence when it comes up in conversation with Beelz or Muriel or even Jim. I think he's been protecting Aziraphale from something all this time, maybe for his own safety or maybe because he doesn't want Azi to lose faith in heaven/God. The way he tries to send Muriel away makes me think it's a physical safety thing.

But then Metacunt shows up in the flesh and Crowley goes, Yeah it's time to have The Talk.

So then what changed?

This next extrapolation is a bit tenuous so feel free to disagree, but I don't think Crowley was as lost in the woods as he seemed to be. Crowley is impulsive and emotional, but he's not stupid. My friend leaves with the most dangerous angel I know and comes back acting weird. We are not getting that breakfast at the Ritz, are we?

I think the confession and the kiss were sincere, but I also think they had a purpose. I think he was trying to snap Aziraphale out of whatever was making him act like a marionette on crack. But, "It's too late. It's always too late."

[ktkellart]

Good Omens London Trip 🐍💞🪽

It's my Birthday today and I treated myself to a trip to London last weekend to see my favourite actor Michael Sheen in Nye at the National Theatre. I made the most of my weekend by combining it with a Good Omens filming location self-tour and I'd love to share it with you all. So, are you ready for the tour?

Here we go!

Starting off with Soho, and the inspiration for Whickber Street, where Aziraphale's bookshop, Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, The Small Back Room, and the Dirty Donkey are located.

It’s Berwick Street and a record shop that is very similar in shape to A.Z Fell & Co. Bonus points for spotting Duck Lane!

Next is Berkeley Square, a short walk from Soho. The first two photos are of the real Berkeley Square gardens in Mayfair, and the last two photos were taken in the filming location of Tavistock Square across the other side of central London near Kings Cross. I’m sitting on their ‘body swap’ bench in the last photo!

As you can see, the benches are turned around facing inwards now but are the other way, facing outwards in Good Omens.

Oh, and I can confirm that there were no nightingales singing in either location 😭

Heading up the road a few minutes from Tavistock Square to The Enterprise pub where I met a fellow fan who kindly took photos of me posing (I bet the staff thought we were off our rockers!). This is where Crowley drowns his sorrows in Talisker Whisky whilst waiting for the world to end after thinking he'd lost Aziraphale. Omg that poor poor demon, he was really just gonna die along with the world.

Also, one of my favourite moments of season 1 is Crolwey's line: "I heard that. It was the wiggle-on..." then shrugs. 😆 So many emotions in such short a time.

Onto the Ritz. The first two photos are of the real Ritz (a stone's throw from Berkeley Square) and the last one is inside Masala Zone in Piccadilly Circus where the ‘Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol’ and ‘To the World’ scenes were filmed.

I ate in here alone to get the photo and was so lucky with the table I was given! Perfect discreet snap whilst eating my curry! Haha!

Next up is Battersea Park and the Bandstand. It was a bit of a faff to get there, it's an 8-minute walk from the Battersea Power Station underground and we walked the full length of the park to find the Bandstand, but it was so worth it.

Also filmed here was Gabriel and Aziraphale’s run/jog. Poor Angel is soft scene.

The trees were a little leafier with it being mid-May and the park was very busy because the weather was glorious. They also have a beautiful lake here with herons!

The Heaven & Hell staircase escalators are right over the east side of London in Broadgate Tower, Bishopsgate. I got the overground to Liverpool Street station to get there. It is in a private business building so I politely/awkwardly asked the receptionist if I could take a photo and had to explain about the scene from Good Omens… eek! But he kindly let me snap a photo anyway! (Phew)

The Windmill Theatre was three minutes away from my hotel in Piccadilly Circus, so I wandered up the road to take a photo of where Aziraphale ‘performed on the West End stage’ as Fell the Marvelous. And wasn’t he just?

The scenes weren't filmed here but it was fun to find it anyway.

St James’s Park is up next! I sat on their bench and got my friend to take photos of me posing and had fun editing the first photo. Haha! We enjoyed walking through the park, watching the ducks on the lake and had a nosey at Buckingham Palace while we were there.

The Duke of York Statue steps are at the other end of St James's Park and were fun to walk up. I smiled to myself as I thought of the scene where Crowley says ‘Well let's have lunch? Hmm,’ and Aziraphale turns around, as it was the first time I realised that these two were more than just friends.

Heaven’s top floor, the Sky Garden in Fenchurch Street near Monument is a very tall building with a botanical garden on the top floor. You can visit the sky garden for free, but you do need to book in advance so it’s best to plan ahead for this one. The views of London are breathtaking from the 35th floor and the tropical plants are fun.

My last stop for this visit was Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. I booked a tour on the morning I was due to go home. The first tour is 10 am and lasts an hour, so I dashed off as soon as the tour guide was uttering his last words about the gift shop, across London back to Kings Cross to pick up my suitcase from luggage storage and get the 11:48 am train home!

One I missed and could have easily gone to is St Margaret Street where Newton and Shadwell meet, and Shadwell fleeces Newton for a cup of tea with nine sugars and pockets the change. A bit gutted I missed it to be honest – I love Jack Whitehall (I’m back in London with the family in June so I’ll swing by and update then!)

There are also some other locations a little further afield that I might try to visit on a later date, such as Shadwell's and Madam Tracy's flat down Hornsey Road in Islington, Crowley's Flat exterior in Eastfields Avenue, Best Cafe on Garratt Lane where Crowley meets Shadwell, Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park where the ineffable husbands watch Warlock defacing a dinosaur sign and Antonella's Cafe and Bistro where Crowley and Aziraphale are thinking of ideas to track down the antichrist whist Aziraphale eats cake.

Okay, I’m gonna finish up with the man himself. The very kind, very charming, and VERY patient Michael Sheen The reason for my London visit in the first place. Nye was spectacular OBviOUsLy, but he was super generous with his time at stage door for us all. I got a hug and asked him to pass it on to Aziraphale (that angel really needs a hug) and it made him laugh, which made my night!

Check out my reblog for extra locations when I visited London again a month later, and for a hilarious bonus photo of.... Gabriel??!

Here’s the wonderful map I used -

from this website:

[actual-changeling]

this is some self-indulgent, directly post-divorce crowley angst, i am 100% responsible for any emotional damage this might (probably will) cause. enjoy.

CW for mild self harm mentions/descriptions, nothing graphic

-

His flat is dark when he returns.

It always was, and up until this very moment, it had never bothered him before; yet as he watches the door swing open, he feels a wave of apprehension. Even the metal underneath his fingertips has an unfamiliar chill to it. After driving for hours late into the night, his mind painfully numb, the Bentley eventually chose a well-known road and brought him back—well, 'home' is certainly one way of putting it.

It was never one to begin with, but now it is the only place he has left.

Some of the city's shine flows through the windows, but it is barely enough to move the shadows below them, let alone reach the hallway. Crowley presses his palm against the door frame and tries to remember how to breathe, grabbing his glasses with his free hand as he squeezes his eyes shut. When Shax took over, he had spent a week arguing with himself over whether or not to tell Aziraphale, slowly settling on a 'yes' with a growing spark of fearful excitement.

Until he remembered their conversation on the bench.

(I don't think my side would like that.)

Until he thought back to the bandstand, flicking through the years like a photo album and revisiting all the times he had asked for something, anything, and the answer he received.

(You go too fast for me, Crowley.)

No, it would have to come from Aziraphale, and maybe, he repeated to himself over and over whenever he decided to drop by, with just a little more time, he finally would. After saving the world, after escaping heaven and hell, after sitting in the Ritz for hours, Crowley dared to hope.

Four years later, he had long since realised his mistake.

(Nothing lasts forever.)

A crack rips him back to the present, dull pain attempting to separate the veil of numbness and failing, and he drops the crushed remains of glass and metal to the floor before stepping over it. The door quietly falls shut behind him, locks thoughtlessly click into place, and he distantly acknowledges the need for new security measures, not that he currently cares much about anything.

Let them come for him; he has nothing more to lose.

Sliding down the closest wall, he listens to the roughened surface scratching the fabric of his suit, finding that once he sits with his knees pulled against his chest, the physical place loses importance.

"Maybe it's not the dark," he whispers to himself, the thoughts thick and sluggish like honey in his mind. "Maybe it's not the dark, but the quiet."

His own words are haunting him, ringing in his ears and sticking to the back of his throat, and for a moment, he considers simply getting up and walking away. The earth is a graveyard of memories, London is a mass grave collapsing in on itself, and it's not like being anywhere else would change the fact that he was alone.

Alone.

The earth was empty, just like it had been when he sat in a burning bookshop.

Flames licking at his skin would be preferable to the ache underneath it, every cell remembering the fleeting press of warmth, of Aziraphale, his just for a handful of seconds. When he traces his lips with his fingertips, he catches a hint of copper, and it's ash and soot branding him despite his miraculously clean body, it's begging and asking and pleading, it's a mouth opening and the euphoric shiver that followed.

Love, fire, loss, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue no matter how much time passes, and if he weren't wrapping his arms around himself while curled up on the floor, he might have been able to tap back into his anger, the indignant rage Aziraphale's words woke within him.

The weight of the last week hits him all at once as the adrenaline in his body finally starts to fade, the pressure tightly constricting his lungs and forcing a choked gasp out of him. He rests his forehead on his knees, his palms seeking the grounding cold of the cement.

"No nightingales." Crowley scrapes his nails across the floor, the words barely audible even to himself. "Fucking idiot, I just had to hope again, didn't I? Too many fucking questions."

It's not the quiet either. It's not the dark or the empty halls, it's not a pristine, dusty bed or imperfect plants lining the windows. It's the fact that even now, he knows exactly what he will do, surrounded by everything he has after losing the one thing that actually mattered.

He will stay right here, and he hates himself for it, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip until salt explodes in his mouth, but it won't change.

Aziraphale has gone, so Crowley does what he always does—wait for him to come back.

[amuseoffyre]

A Purely Selfish Action

I've had the show running in the background while I've been working and this line tripped across my ear and made me realise this is how/why Aziraphale is going to save the world.

He knows the Second Coming is on its way and this time he's front and centre for the ride. The last time it was Armageddon (Antichrist Edition), Crowley appealed to Aziraphale's love of human things to get him on side: food, music, shows, nice wine.

Yes, Aziraphale has other reasons for standing his ground as well, but when it comes down to it, he is selfish. He wants to keep his things and his people safe and comfortable. He likes to be around his people and his things and being promoted to manage the Second Coming has cut him off from all of it. From his bookshop. From his books. From his little part of Soho. From his coffee shops and restaurants and the Ritz. And, most importantly, from Crowley.

There's a lot of mess surrounding their final interaction, both of them speaking at cross-purposes and actively not understanding why the other is doing what they are doing, but there can be no mistake that there is the love there. And I have absolutely zero doubts that the Metatron used Crowley as leverage against Aziraphale in ways we didn't see - there's a reason we were only shown parts of that conversation.

In Aziraphale's mind, if they're on the same side, then Crowley is safe. He's thought that since S1. "Heaven will win, of course". "You were an angel once". When Crowley rejects that, it is precisely a rejection of that - Heaven and angeldom and stepping back into that rut. Crowley makes it crystal clear that he would be happy with just Aziraphale. The love is there, from both sides. Instead of one saying "come away with me" we got the double-whammy "come away with me".

I'm absolutely certain that being stuck back in Heaven is Aziraphale's worst nightmare, especially without his emotional support demon. And the bigger the threat of Armageddon 2.0 grows, the more he realises what he will lose.

I don't doubt that any threat to Crowley will activate every Guardian instinct in that fluffy angel's head. Aziraphale has spent many a happy time letting Crowley rescue him from dangerous situations, but if anyone - anyone - threatens harm to his demon, Aziraphale Will Not Care For It.

I am so here for the territorial fierce Guardian of the Eastern Gate who puts his foot down and says "No, actually, this is my world, that is my city, that is my demon, and you are not destroying them, thank you very much. If you want to get to them you have to go through me and thank you very much for giving me all the powers of the highest of Archangels :)"

[barbsgirlfriend]

Velvet & Veneer headcanons

Genre: Headcanons

Fandom: Trolls

Warnings: none!

Pairing: a little bit of Veneer x Kid Ritz

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⭑

Veneer 🌟

Bro is a bitch 😭

Veneer is mean just like Velvet but in a more sophisticated way. She’s straight up mean and he’s more of the fake mean. He’ll pretend to like you then talk shit about you behind your back.

BOY KISSER!! GAY?! LIKES MEN??

Veneer is bisexual but has a preference for guys. He also might have a crush on the Bop on Top interviewer. 🤭

He’s very sensitive

He’s a very emotional person. No matter what, his feelings control him. However, Veneer’s better at managing it than Velvet. Did someone just insult him? He’s pissed off. Did someone just hug him? He’s very happy.

Veneer can bust some moves bro 🤯

He isn’t really that much into singing. Veneer only agreed to become a pop star because his sister wanted to. Veneer is much more into dance. He took ballet and jazz dance classes when he was younger and loved dancing ever since.

He struggles with impostor syndrome

Now, Veneer is… okay at singing and dancing. He struggles with his self image when performing and is scared of disappointing Velvet.

Veneer has veneers 🤓☝️

He was doing something stupid with Velvet when he was younger and fell. He knocked some of his teeth out and damaged some others. So he had to get veneers and dental implants. He also has a small gap in his front teeth.

Fashionista who???

Veneer only wants to look good. He makes sure all his clothing is presentable and expensive. Veneer pretty much picks out the outfits he and his sister wear. He isn’t that good with hair and makeup though :(

Velvet 🌟

Nice when you get to know them friend

Most people think she’s a bitch (which she is) but she can be extremely caring for her close friends and family. Veneer prob says: “oh she’s actually nice you just gotta get to know her”

Lives on caffeine

Velvet CANNOT survive without some caffeine in her system. She likes to get espressos from Starbucks. She’ll sometimes drink Red Bulls, but only when she’s performing.

She’s one of the girls 😍

Velvet likes women. And that is that

Velvet’s on the spectrum

She was diagnosed with high functioning autism when she was like twelve. Velvet struggles with empathy and understanding other’s emotions. She’s also very mean as a way to protect herself.

Expert song writer

She might not be good at singing songs… but she’s excellent at writing them! Velvet wrote some songs that the other famous Mount Rageons sang.

Emotional af

It doesn’t take much to make her snap. Velvet gets teary eyed when she’s angry and yells. She also gives really bad silent treatment. The reason she ran away when the trolls were yelling about her kidnapping BroZone is because she runs away from her problems instead of facing them head on.

(Anyway, I hope you like my silly headcanons! I’ll try to make more soon)

[theonevoice]

Aziraphale doesn't drink coffee

My friends, it feels obvious now, but I finally managed to put my fingers on what was bothering me about this specific exchange of lines:

If you think about it, this exchange doesn't make sense. Aziraphale says:

"But I… I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?"

and the Metatron answers:

"You know, as Supreme Archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with."

What does being able to decide who to work with have anything to do with coffee?

At first, like many of us, I had interpreted the scene as Aziraphale using the coffee as a metaphor for expressing his love for Earth and earthly pleasures, and the Metatron slyly throwing the Crowley's restored angelic status card on the table to force him to change his mind, as if Crowley was the one important thing that could make Aziraphale forget all other things on Earth.

But here's the thing - and I don't know why I never noticed it before: as far as we know, Aziraphale doesn't drink coffee.

If I am not mistaken, there are only three explicit coffee references in the two seasons: the "six shots of espresso," the espresso cup that sits in front of Crowley on the table at the Ritz in s1ep1, and the two mugs in s1ep2 when Aziraphale and Crowley stops at a sort of dining place to discuss how to find the lost Antichrist. Now, unlike with the expresso cup at the Ritz, where we have an above shot that clearly shows traces of coffee, we don't see what's inside the two mugs here. But I don't think Aziraphale's one contains coffe: he's not even aware that caffeine is definitely does not "calm people down," it's very clearly not his thing.

Furthermore, we do know what his things are: little restaurants, sushi, classical music, old bookshops, tea, crepes, French wine… not coffee.

When the Metatron asks him to become Supreme Archangel, he could say "where would I get my sushi?" or "where would I get my books" or "where would I get my records" which is an actual line that he pronounced earlier while talking to Maggie.

Instead he says "coffee."

And then it struck me: Aziraphale is never associated with coffee. But Crowley is.

That's what he's saying, probably unconsciously: when he says "where would I get my coffee?" he's not expressing his love for Earth, he's expressing his love for Crowley.

He could even be doing this without realizing it, as a form of involuntary codification (codification like in Freud's or Matte Blanco's theories of unconscious mind: where something seated deep inside you hooks onto some minor detail outside and starts speaking through your words as if on its own accord). After all, this particular morning, after the emotional strain of the ball, the demonic attack during the night, and the unexpected revelation of Gabriel and Beelzebub relationship, seems to me like the sort of moment in which some amount of brain fog is to be expected, even for an angel.

But the Metatron sees straight through him, possibly even more clearly than he sees through himself, and gives an answer that ignores the superficial codification and address directly the deep meaning. He doesn't say: "as Supreme Archangel you would be able to pop down here whenever you want and have as much coffee as you like." He immediately sees that "where would I get my coffee?" means "how could I be together with Crowley?" and makes his dirty move of dangling the idea of restoring Crowley to his former angelic status in front of Aziraphale's face because he knows that this is the one and only point.

And now I really, really, really hope that in s3 we will see Supreme Archangel Aziraphale sending someone on Earth to get him some coffee - maybe a big cup with six shots of espresso in it and nothing else - and then grabbing the paper cup with a pain, strenght, and desperation that nobody else would understand.