#the most 'me' thing i've done in a long while

[27spoons]

Feeling Myself | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: Your best friend's been ignoring you since you hooked up a few days ago. Determined to speak with her again, you decide to visit her in the changing rooms after a soccer game. What's the worst that happens?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: porn/what plot, smut (afab!reader), slightly ooc nat (in the name of porn), no proofreading we die like jackie

a/n: this shit corny asf LMAOOOO (this is a "what-if" from part two.) (also see: i had a thought while writing part two. this is 90% smut.) (this is also 10x as crude as the previous smut I've done sorry not sorry)

wc: 3430

[you don't need to read either part to read this.]

part one / part two

A quick recap of the events that took place the past week.

You slept with your best friend at a party. Your best friend who happens to be knee-deep in denial when it comes to her sexuality. She's been avoiding you like the plague since then. You've just finished watching her play a soccer game, and now you're awkwardly standing outside the locker rooms.

Great. Recap over.

Okay, thirty minutes is overkill, especially for Nat, who typically likes getting in and out as fast as possible. Sure, maybe you'd spend thirty minutes in a shower at home, but in a public place? With the floors that definitely have bacteria on them that could kill a Victorian child?

That's practically a carnal sin.

You aren't sure why you're steeling yourself; I mean… odds are she just left through the other entrance, right? And it's not like you aren't allowed in this change room, it's just the general change room for the school facilities…

Whatever.

You stand up straight and throw the door open to the changing room, not that surprised to find it completely empty—save for the sound of a shower running in the back of the space. Realistically, if it is Nat, you should probably let her finish her shower. You don't really know where the two of you stand right now, and intruding on a shower hardly seems like a good time to find out. And, if it isn't Nat, intruding on a shower would be a really, really bad idea.

Still, you decide to investigate further. 

Quietly making your way toward the shower stalls, you glance around and look for anything that could give you an idea about whoever it is, showering and praying to whatever God there is that it's Nat and not some random stranger. 

When you reach the benches in front of the stalls, you let out a relieved breath you didn't even realise you were holding—you'd recognize those combat boots anywhere.

Is confronting her while she's in the shower the most intelligent idea? No. But honestly? You're more than a little frustrated and pretty sure that she'll continue to avoid you unless you do something now.

So, you do the mature thing, much like she did.

You storm to the front of the stall and bang on the door, "Natalie?!" You call out, voice slightly shaky at the idea that it might not be her after all. 

A long, tense moment of silence passes after you speak, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles below. You start to panic, worrying that you really did just knock on a stranger's shower stall, scaring the everliving shit out of—

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A voice, unmistakenly belonging to a certain Natalie Scatorccio, rings out over the sounds of the shower, "You couldn't fucking… wait until I wasn't fucking showering?!"

"You've been avoiding me!" You yell back, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You haven't been showing up to class, you've been avoiding my calls… I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" She yells back, "Maybe wait for me to come to you when I'm ready to talk, ideally not when I'm in the fucking shower?!"

"Yeah, well…" You mutter, realising that… yeah… maybe this wasn't the best time, but you're already here! There's no backing down now! "That's not the point!" You eventually continue, "Why have you been avoiding me since Friday night?"

She doesn't respond for a long moment.

"Well?" You scoff, calling over the water, "Natalie? Are you gonna answer me—"

The stall door flings open, revealing a very naked and very wet Natalie Scatorccio.

Your jaw drops. Sure, you saw her naked during the night of the party, but this is much different. She looks very upset with your sudden appearance, and for a moment, when she draws her hand back, you worry she's about to clock you in the jaw. And, honestly? You'd probably deserve it.

What you aren't expecting, however, is her to grab the back of your head and mash your lips against hers, all tongue and teeth.

It's only a moment's hesitation before you return the kiss, and she's drawing you back into the shower stall. "We better be alone," Natalie murmurs, tugging your hoodie off and over your head as it begins to soak through. "I'm not about to have one of the girls walk in on this." 

"No, uh, yeah, we're alone." You stammer out, kicking off your shoes and pants, "I wouldn't have caused a scene if there were still people in here—"

"Good." Nat breathes out as she tugs you into the shower's spray, despite the fact you haven't even gotten the chance to remove your underwear yet. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." And her lips are back against yours, free hand immediately moving to find purchase between your thighs, fingers rubbing you through the damp fabric. (Which, you'll note, is now damp for more than one reason.) 

"Holy fuck—" A shaky exhale parts from your lips, your head falling back to hit the shower wall, one hand attempting to find some sort of grip on the wall while the other grasps uselessly at her wrist, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you in the time we weren't talking?" You ask breathlessly, hips pushing into her hand.

"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." She murmurs, fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside and pushing two fingers through your slick folds, teasing the length of your slit for a few moments before she quickly sinks two fingers into the wet heat at the apex of your thighs.

"F-fuck—" A full-body shiver rakes through your form as your back arches off the wall, a shocked gasp leaving your lips once she starts fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "Jesus Christ—" "You seem to be saying his name a lot. Last I checked, it's my fingers inside of you and not his." She says with a smug grin, resting her free hand on the wall next to your head. "Unless you got really religious in the past few days."

"Asshole." You grunt out, nails digging into her wrist as you desperately roll your hips against her hand, "You are knuckle deep inside me, and I'm not about to just start saying your full name—"

"No." She cuts you off, "But you could just say Natalie."

"That's not—" She cuts you off when she stretches you further with a third finger, and you're almost positive her wrist has to be cramping with the angle it's at, but she shows zero signs of stopping or slowing down. "—the point—" You stammer out, eyes screwing shut as squelching sounds from her fingers fucking your pussy manage just to be loud enough to be heard over the rush of water beating against the porcelain.  

"No, you're right. The point is that you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else while I'm the one inside of you."

If there was something you expected Nat to say, that was not it, but you can't help the way you clench around her fingers at the comment.

"Oh, shit." A low laugh spills from her throat, "You like that, huh? When I'm all possessive? Didn't realise you'd be into that sorta stuff."

"Fuck off." You mutter, "I've never heard you get possessive before. It's kinda hot."

"Yeah? Guess I'll have to keep that in mind." Her palm grinds hard into your clit as her fingers brush against that spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and losing the rhythm you had found. "Oh. That was a fun spot." Nat murmurs to herself, "I liked that. Let's do it again."

So, she does. She presses her fingers right against that spot with every flick of her wrist, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck she became so damn good at this when at times, it felt like she barely had two brain cells to rub together that night of the party—

Shit, you didn't even notice the fact she was trailing her lips along the hollow of your throat, tongue collecting the water that streams down your body from your face. "Nat—" You gasp when you feel her teeth bite at your jaw, "Shit—"

"Mm, yeah." You can feel her grin against your throat, "See? Knew you had it in you to say my name. Just needed some gentle encouragement, is all."

You can't even form coherent thoughts at this point. You aren't sure what turns you on more: doing this in a public place where anyone could walk in and hear the deplorable things currently transpiring, the fact that Nat seems to be eager to have you like this, the way her lips trace along your neck reverently, or her completely making you forget the whole reason you walked into the changing rooms to begin with.

Nat spends some time alternating between the stretch of three fingers and the ruthless pace of two, occasionally completely retracting her fingers in favour of circling your clit with the pads of her index and middle before sinking them back in.

"You, fuck, I'm close." You stammer out the next time she sinks her fingers back into the tight heat, "Don't fucking stop—"

She shakes her head against your neck, "Not stopping." A shaky exhale, and you start to feel her hips rolling against your thigh, "Not stopping until I feel you fucking come around my fingers."

Your eyes roll back into your head at the words that fall from her lips, and you find yourself gripping her arm again for support. "Oh, holy fuck, Natalie—"

With a stuttering movement of your hips against the heel of her palm, you find yourself crashing into a climax that you were not expecting to get right in the fucking changing rooms.

And, despite how you clench around her fingers and your knees buckle slightly, Nat doesn't even stop. Not for half a second. The crude sounds of her fingers fucking your spasming pussy at breakneck speed don't slow, and your head thrashes back and forth against the wall, "Nat, fuck, wait—"

"No." She hisses into the side of your neck, biting at the skin, "I'm not done yet."

Thank causes a broken groan to slip from your lips as her fingers press against that one spot over and over again to the point the edges of your vision start to turn fuzzy amid the ecstasy. "F-fuck, I just came—"

"I know." She growls out, fingers seemingly plunging in deeper to your tight heat with every thrust of her wrist, "And I want you to come again."

"Oh." You exhale, eyes screwing shut again, "Oh…"

Nat grins at your breathless sounds, "Yeah, baby. Like that." Three fingers, "Fuck, love how tight you feel around my fingers. How fucking wet you are for me." "We're, ah, in a shower. Of course, I'm wet—"

She bites down on your neck particularly harshly at your words, "Shut up. You know that isn't what I fucking meant."

"N-no, but it's funny—"

You barely even register it when Nat drops to her knees before you, bringing one of your legs over her shoulder, "God, shut up."

And, well, you don't get a chance to speak again before she's burying her face against your heat, fingers continuing in their harsh movements as her tongue attaches itself to your clit, swirling around and sucking at the nub.

One of your hands immediately finds itself tangled in her blonde hair, the other trying to hold your body up against the stall wall behind you, which proves… to be a hard enough task on its own, given that the walls are slick with water and smooth.

"Oh, fuck—" You hiss out, tugging slightly on her hair, "Shit, give me a second—"

Nat doesn't. She doesn't stop or slow, either. Hell, she doesn't even humour you with a response, just choosing to focus on her task at hand: making you come again.

It's slightly embarrassing how quickly you're right back on the precipice of an orgasm. You'd probably be mortified if you could form thoughts other than "yes" and "please."

You swear you can feel the way Nat smirks against you as she wraps her lips around your clit, creating a suction that has a full-body shudder raking through you and—

…

Even Nat has to stop for half a second when she feels you come again, less than a minute after the first one. "Fuck." She breathes out, looking up at you with her jaw slightly slack, fingers still buried inside of you. "Did you just…?"

Realistically, you could lie. But you get the feeling this is a hypothetical question.

"I… I told you I needed a second…" Comes your stammered response, "That's… I'm not… I don't… it's just…"

A dark chuckle leaves Nat's mouth as she removes your leg from her shoulder, ensuring you can stand properly before she rises back to her feet, "Mmn, I'm not mad. If anything, it's kinda flattering."

You scowl slightly at her, "What-whatever." 

You decide it's her turn, now. 

As fast as you can move without slipping on the tile, you pin Natalie to the wall in your place, lips finding her neck, tracing up the path of a water droplet with your tongue, then further up still until your lips are back on hers.

One of Nat's hands comes to rest on your shoulder, the other tangling itself into your hair as your kiss grows more and more heated. Although it's a little tricky to do with the slick walls, you spread her thighs slightly and press your knee up between them, encouraging her to grind down onto your leg. It's your turn to smirk now, finding some sort of pleasure in the way she immediately presses her pussy against you, hips rocking with urgency.

"Yeah," You grunt against her lips, "like that. Keep doing that." The blonde whimpers back, grinding herself faster, "Please." She breathes out, "I need more."

"What?" You chuckle, "Sorry, I didn't get that. Mind saying that again?"

She slaps your shoulder, "Stop being such a fucking tease, asshole. What do you want me to say? That I want your fingers inside of me?"

You grin, "Yeah. That works, actually." One of your hands runs down the flat of her stomach, two fingers run across her folds, not quite delving into the warmth between them. "But the begging is a little hot."

"I'm not going to beg." She immediately answers, "If you aren't gonna fuck me, I'll find someone else to do it."

Your jaw tenses immediately at the comment, and you aren't quite sure if it's jealousy or something else, but the very idea of that pisses you off to no end. "No the fuck you aren't." You hiss out, sinking your index and middle finger into her cunt without another word, earning you a keening sound. "I'm the only person doing this to you tonight."

"God, yes." She almost moans out the words, "Harder."

A scoff, but you oblige her anyway, turning two fingers to three and fucking them into her faster, grinding your palm into her as the digits move, and Nat doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for someone with long fingers.

She presses her tongue back against yours, using the hand that's tangled in your hair to guide your mouth where she wants it—against hers.

The press of your lips against yours makes the movements of your hand slow momentarily, but you quickly recover your speed when Nat tugs at the hair on the nape of your neck, reminding you that there's an end goal to this.

"Mm, my bad." You murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips, "Your mouth is very distracting."

Nat rolls her eyes, "Yeah? Then maybe you should be somewhere it won't distract you." A half-grin twitches itself onto her lips, and the hand on your shoulder presses down, "On your knees, ideally."

"Just say you want me to eat you out." You lower yourself onto one knee, "Saying what you want is hot." Nat grins down at you and runs her fingers through your hair as you get down on your other knee, "Don't need to say what I want. You're already doing it."

You roll your eyes at her as you press some gentle kisses to her inner thighs, humming when she parts them for you. "Maybe." A small nip to the soft skin, "But I do enjoy you telling me what to do."

"Oh, yeah? What, you into being dominated?" She laughs lowly, "Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind."

"You say that like you plan on doing this again." You take one of her legs and hoist it over your shoulder, pausing a beat, then taking the other leg and repeating the motion. "Do you plan on doing this again?" Nat gasps when you have her sit on your shoulders, fingers tightening in your hair, "Fuck, you keep pulling shit like this, and I just might keep doing it."

A grin graces your lips, "That so? Guess I'll have to keep you coming back." A chaste kiss to her clit, then you're delving your tongue into her cunt, greedily slurping at the wetness that's collected between her legs. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, holding her against your face, encouraging her to squeeze your head like a goddamn watermelon. You could, quite honestly, die happy with your head where it is right now.

Nat is rolling her hips against your face, your nose brushing against her clit as your face remains buried in her pussy, obscene sounds echoing against the walls, and you aren't even sure when the shower clicked off, but you are aware that it makes the two of you much more audible.

You'd pull your head back to tell her or move one of your hands to swat at the button to turn the water back on, but you get the feeling she could care less how audible what's transpiring between the two of you is.

So, you try to put that into the back of your mind, letting the sounds of your mouth against her and Nat's broken gasps act as fuel for the way you fuck her with your tongue. 

It's a handful of minutes before her breathing becomes more stuttered, her grip on your hair starts to hurt slightly, and you don't think she would let you up for air if your face were literally turning blue, but that's okay.

In fact, it's more than okay, considering you feel her pussy pulsate around your tongue as a whimpering moan breaks from her throat, hips continuing to rock against your face for a few more seconds before ceasing. 

"Fuck." Her fingers run through your hair, as if serving an apology for the way she was tugging on it. "You're fucking good at that." You shoot a lazy grin up at her through between her thighs, which were effectively acting as earmuffs. "I aim to please. Happy that my goal was met."

Her head falls back against the wall as she laughs, "Yeah. Now, put me down."

"Mm, sure you can stand?" You tease, nipping at her thigh again.

"Positive, asshole." She rolls her eyes fondly, "Let me off."

A dramatic sigh parts from your lips, but you relent and help her get her feet back on the ground, "Fine, fine." You stand back at your full height, looking down at her slightly as you lean against the wall, "But I really wasn't done yet."

"Yeah, well, I was. I'm not in the mood to get caught by someone in here." She shoves your shoulder, causing you to take a step away from her. "We both got off."

You click your tongue, "Seriously? C'mon. Don't be like that…"

"We can get off more later."

"Oh?" You quirk an eyebrow, "That mean I'm coming back to your dorm?"

"Well. That was fun." Nat ignores the question, pushing off the wall and hitting the shower button again. "Now. I need to finish showering. You staying or leaving?"

You scoff, "Staying, I guess." You spare a glance down at your soaked clothes, "Gonna be soaked the whole walk home, anyway. Not in the mood for that walk."

She laughs deliciously, "Oh, trust me; if I have anything to say about it? You'll be soaked at home, too."

A beat. "And you said my dirty talk was terrible."

a/n: ok NOW crush act two part one next fr fr

[vetchtibbles]

I’ve had a couple people ask me about the results on this quiz and wanted to see the other options, so here’s all the descriptions I wrote for the recommended shows down below:

Uquiz Podcast Descriptions

[Unseen - A short urban fantasy show where each episode is a different monologue from someone in the unseen world! Incredible music, writing, and performers. Some of the episodes are really genuine and sad, some are fast paced and comedic. You get something new every time - a college class lecture, a voicemail, a tour, a story. I love this show and I highly recommend it!

Red Valley - A sci-fi mystery with amazing writing and performances - a show about the scientists behind cryogenic technology, and the people that got mixed up in it all accidentally. I'm obsessed with this one and cannot wait for the next season!

Malevolent - A Lovecraftian horror about a detective with the voice of a mysterious entity stuck in his head. You've got to take notes for this one. This show is devastating, emotional, terrifying, and one of the most beautiful pieces of media I've ever enjoyed. You should really give this one a try! The sound design, writing, and voice acting are all insane - especially because it's all done by one creator.

Camp Here and There - For this show, you get the mealtime announcements from the loud speakers at an unusual summer camp in Ohio. Enjoy paranormal happenings, drama among the camp counselors, and a banger soundtrack (yes, by Will Wood. I still have no idea why.)

Death by Dying - Absurdist comedy. A very thorough obituary writer tries to get to the bottom of every mysterious death his column covers. This show has wordplay, nice gothic vibes, and a strange little town with far too many strange little deaths.

Welcome to Nightvale - This show is a classic among audio drama podcasts, having started in 2012 and still going strong. Every episode is a radio broadcast from the bizarre little town of NIghtvale, located somewhere in the desert. Tune in for news, traffic, sports, sponsors, horoscope, and the weather, none of them what you'd expect. You should really listen to some of this one if you haven't yet

Wolf 359 - This might just be my all-time favourite show - a long form scifi about a small crew aboard a spaceship orbiting a distant star. Things start innocently enough, but this show builds in drama and mystery quickly. Incredible soundtrack, writing, and performances! Intrigue! Witty writing! Amazing actors! SPACE!!! This show has everything and I love it very much

The Amelia Project - A comedy about an agency that fakes people’s deaths. This show has fun characters, absurd situations, and a banger of a theme song. Each season feels completely unique, but I always have fun listening to this one

Sherlock and Co - This is the best modern adaptation of Sherlock Holmes that I know of. For being set in 2023 - 2024, the stories are insanely book-accurate! This show is done as an in-world true crime podcast, so it's very immersive. The actors are incredible, and the theme song is fantastic

The Magnus Archives - The recordings of a paranormal research institute's archived statements. Things gradually start connecting across stories, and everything starts becoming more complicated for our characters working at the institute. This show is long at 200 episodes (with a developing sequel) and has some amazing writing and performances! It explores all kinds of horror imaginable, while being centrally about the characters and humanity. You'll enjoy this one 100%

The Bright Sessions - Here's the thing. The original show is good, but the sequel is definitely more of my kind of show. Bright Sessions is a long form series about the patients of a psychologist that works with people who have special abilities. It's pretty sweet and mostly about character relationships, but the sequel show AM Archives is a scientific thriller/survival show about ethical dilemmas in medicine and patient care - it also has more in the way of music and sound design. Both shows are really well done, with incredible performers and writing!

Deviser - A short form horror that I can't explain too much of without spoiling the entire thing, but this show is AMAZING! It's the most terrifying thing I've ever heard done in audio, so be prepared for that. It's got it all - insane sound design, performance, writing, and music, all done by one creator. If you want a dark speculative fiction about humanity and our relation to artificial intelligence, with a dog, then give this one a try

Zero Hours - A short series of one-off episodes spanning time in ninety-year increments, all with the theme of the end of the world. I truly love this show - each episode is devastating in a different way. The actors, sound design, and music are all incredible, and the show is produced by my favourite audio fiction team. Please listen to this one, you WILL enjoy it

Time:Bombs - This show is short at only three episodes - the fast paced account of a bomb disposal team on one night - New Year's Eve. There's a surprising amount of character development and heart for such a short story in this one, and you can listen to the whole thing in one setting, take the quiz again, and find another show! I'm kidding of course but I do love this show. The creators made the whole thing in one week, which is insanely impressive

Wooden Overcoats - This show proves that the only difference in tragedy and comedy is your point of view. A sitcom about two rival funeral homes on a tiny island off the coast of France with far more absurd deaths than you might think for such a lovely little community. This is honestly one of my favorite shows of all time, and I know you'll enjoy it too. It's incredibly good - the performers and gothic orchestral soundtrack are amazing, the writing witty and fast paced, and I know my descriptions aren't giving this show any justice. It's that good. Go listen to it.

Alice isn’t Dead - Poetic and terrifying, this show is about a truckdriver searching America for her wife, whom (as the title suggests) she thought was dead. If you're into the idea of the endless and lonely expanse of the American mid-west as horror, then this is the show for you!

Re: Dracula - The novel Dracula by Bram Stoker is conveniently made up of journal entries, letters, and newspaper articles all corresponding to certain dates. With this in mind, the podcast Re: Dracula released each day's events as written in the book in high-quality audio format! Essentially, this is just a really good audio book, with full cast performances, sound effects, and a haunting musical score. For fans of the book already, or anyone who enjoys gothic horror and literature

Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Later - You didn't know you wanted an ancient Roman political comedy, did you? Well, you do. And the good news is, this show is perfect for you! It starts just after the unfortunate murder of Julius Caesar, when the financially struggling republic of Rome has turned to its new triumvirate for support. The three of them, however, are having a bit of trouble managing the world-superpower. This show is great, with incredible writing, performances and soundtrack. The story's got it all: intrigue, forbidden love, rivalries, and theatrics. Enjoy!

Trice Forgotten - Listen to this show if you like stories about PIRATES! Or if you're into shows with incredible soundtracks, intrigue, immersive soundscapes, and women sword fighting each other.

The White Vault - Long-form found footage horror about scientists dealing with paranormal happenings while trapped at a research base in the snow. Very technical and linguistic, so if you're into that, then you should give this show a try!

Fawx and Stallion - If you hate the Sherlock Holmes books then this show is for you, because this is about a different mystery solving team in Victorian London. It's a comedy about the neighbors of literature's most famous detective having to solve a major mystery as, essentially, the backup team. This show is very fun, and I look forward to the next season. You should definitely give it a listen!

New Year’s Day - This show releases one episode per year, on New Year's Day. Two magicians agree to meet up and talk every thirteen years since a performance stunt left them both immortal. There's only three episodes of this out at this point, so come back in a couple decades and let me know how it turns out! It's already really good!]

Made a quiz :DD -

[polyamorousmood]

Hey! I’m so sorry if you don’t respond to asks like this but I was wondering if I could get a little advice?

I’ve been with my boyfriend for nearly 8 months now and I went into it making it clear that I was poly and he knew that (hes monogamous) and we’ve been talking about compromises around being a poly relationship. He keeps on sort of swinging between being okay with it and then getting sort of self conscious. The way he sees it is that if he was to date someone outside of me then I’d need to date someone else so it’s fair but if I was to date someone outside of him that we both weren’t dating then he’d be anxious about me leaving him.

I’m not trying to invalidate how he feels because I understand how terrifying something like this can be and I get that a lot of this stems from being cheated on in a previous relationship and that he is quite an anxious/ self conscious person. I just don’t know how to help him see that I love him and even if Ryan Reynolds himself stared dating me I wouldn’t leave him because he feels like my forever partner you know? God this turned into a rant I’m sorry

This is a late response, and I've answered similar questions before, so I recommend checking those out for further reading📚 (especially this one), but there are a few key🔑 points I want to emphasize for you specifically

Start taking time apart now. Regular time ⌚where you are unavailable (and out of the house). This will be common if you get another partner, and it is only one more thing for your boyfriend's brain to go "this is different than usual, they're pulling away, this is a problem, AAAAAAA" if its not normal. Its made much easier if you being unavailable sometimes is normal. Take a cooking class or become a regular at the library or something.

You will never be able to completely assure him you won't leave. This is one of those things that's a bitch to hear, but its true. And would be true even if you were monogamous. Your boyfriend probably needs to do some independent work on that (I really like this worksheet📃✍️, done slowly). That doesn't mean you shouldn't reassure him you're in this for the long haul! That doesn't mean you shouldn't still help! Just that you cannot 100% solve the problem, no matter how committed you are.

Don't let him waffle forever. This is so much easier said than done. And you should allow him some space to sort this out, because it is a lot for most people! But you made this clear from the beginning, and if you wake up one day and suddenly you've been dating him exclusively for 4 years and he's still not sure... something went wrong. Express to him that - while you understand his concerns - it does still hurt to be in limbo, or that he'd doubt your love so much, or whatever else about it is hard for you. Its a tricky balance⚖️ to strike, but you can and should be able to express your feelings while respecting his.

"The way he sees it is that if he was to date someone outside of me then I’d need to date someone else so it’s fair" do you feel this way?? If not, tell him to cut it out with putting extra restrictions on it lol

Best of luck, my friend. 🍀 You can do this!! And so can your boyfriend!

[deadrocks]

The issue with wanting to write a story where a traumatized person slowly builds up physical comfort with a person they trust is all the plot you need in between those specific scenes to make them actually interesting.

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[kradogsrats]

Oh! I think about this a lot, though I'm not really sure why besides that how people make decisions about children is inherently kind of interesting to me.

The Aaravos situation is unusual in that there's a relatively short timeline attached to it—they aren't putting off having children until some nebulous future time when there might finally not be some kind of crisis somewhere, they're putting it off for seven years, at which point they will be... all of 25 years old, which is generally considered to be a much better time to have a baby than 19 or 20. I've read stuff in other fandoms where the decision of whether to have a child during a time of threatened world crisis becomes about weighing the risks of the child growing up without one or both parents, or growing up in a dangerous and war-torn environment, or not growing up at all against the risk that the world will simply never be sufficiently safe. With a definite finality of "within ten years, either we have stopped Aaravos for good or the world has ended"... they might as well wait, which may or may not be bittersweet depending on how badly they want to get started.

(One thing that's interestingly vague about this setting is what/when is considered to be "adulthood." That's a number that has been pushed later and later in modern times, which is not a bad thing! However, looking at the characters themselves—Rayla is functionally a child soldier at 15, and Soren is already an officer in the Crownguard at 18, meaning he probably joined and was expected to be ready to die for his king at 16 or earlier. Callum being High Mage to Ezran makes sense, but is also literally putting a teenager in a government cabinet position. What makes all of that slightly less weird is that culturally, here in real world USAmerica and/or Canada, we have essentially added an entire new stage of non-adult life after 18, during which you are expected to figure out a career trajectory of some kind. When you remove the expectation of higher education from the question, "I have already launched my lifelong career at 16" works a little better. At that point, "I will start a family at 20-21" also sounds less insane because they've already been operating as an adult for several years.)

Anyway what I think would be really interesting about the whole question is the competing influences on both sides—Janai and Amaya explicitly get married during Karim's rebellion because she's "done putting off the good things for fear of the bad," and I think Ethari and Runaan would have a thought or two about waiting for the time to be "right" versus valuing yourselves and your family. Bringing a child into the world is obviously a bit different from getting married, but I think the "don't let the evil in the world dictate when you can seize joy" philosophy could still apply.

On the other hand, you have the personal experiences of Callum, Rayla, and Ezran with having absent parents. Callum lost his father as a young child, then his mother not long after, and was raised by his stepfather. Ezran never had a mother in his life, and lost his father, as well. One set of Rayla's parents left to defend the world and never came back. I think they'd all have some Big Feelings about those things—most obviously Rayla's parents, as the obvious closest analogue to their situation, but also like... it's at least kind of implied that Sarai and Damian had a child despite both of them knowing that he would likely not live to see that child grow up. I think it's unlikely that Callum doesn't feel Some Kind Of Way about that. Parental loss/abandonment trauma affects basically every character in this entire story, and while they all deal with it a bit differently... they all gotta deal with it.

(And of course, if you want to get extra angsty—what happens if suddenly OOPS ALL PREGNANT? What if it's in year one post-s7 versus year six post-s7? Do they keep the baby? Do they let Aaravos prevent them from keeping a child who is otherwise wanted? I feel like that's a much harder choice than whether to start trying for one.)

Rayllum, 10 babies and Xadian family planning

I’m trying to post the next chapter of Dark Alternative, but AO3 is very wonky, so you’re going to be subjected to my rambling thoughts on my new WIP for Work in Progress Wednesday.

So, over my vacation, I’ve been plagued by post-season 7 fanfic ideas. Short fics, obviously. No more than three chapters, as usual.

What’s got me intrigued right now, is how the continent of Xadia, or at least, a select group of people, will manage with living with the knowledge that Aaravos, in some form, is coming back in seven years. How would that affect politics and society, as well as the individual characters and the choices they make knowing that?

The regular folks would struggle to miss that whole eternal darkness and dead creatures thing that happened, but what do they know about exactly what went down?

And what do they know about what’s to come?

You know me, I’m a Rayllum person, so pretty much any fic of mine is a Rayllum fic, and this current idea is focused on how this particular threat affects the next stage of their lives.

Without a doubt, when we last saw Rayllum they were totally committed to each other and are fully ride or die… but how would that devotion relate to their future, in particular, the subject of children?

Now, I’m an angster in my deep dark heart, so while I’m sure many people could conceive of a fic where Rayllum are secure in their ability to defeat Aaravos come round two, that ain’t where my brain was ever going to go.

Rayllum are in love and clearly want a future together. Callum was openly planning a quaint little one in the Silvergrove before they were rudely interrupted by the whole end of the world dealio.

So, where does that leave them now (in my angsty reality anyway)?

In their youth, they both leaned into their more paranoid natures (Rayla leaving without Callum in TTM and Callum getting physical with Soren in season 4), and while they’ve both grown and matured since then, would such a threat as the world ending be enough to bring that paranoia right on back?

Which leaves me with my current fic planning conundrum.

Assuming Rayllum decided to forego the whole having kids thing until Aaravos is imprisoned again, how likely is it that they could plan when to have a family.

I’ve seen people say that the world of The Dragon Prince is in a medieval setting, and so people had children younger then, which, aside from not being the entire story, doesn’t feel like it really applies to a world with magic and dragons, a world that lacks the sexism and gender roles that are also associated with medieval times or other more grounded works set then.

Additionally, looking at canon, I think it could be reasonably argued that some form of birth control is readily available in the setting. In fact, I think it’s likely multiple forms of birth control exist in the world of The Dragon Prince.

From humans to elves, we don’t see large families normally associated with the inability to plan a family via the use of effective birth control. The “largest” family we see are the Sunfire monarchs, with three children. Viren and Lissa had two children only. Sarai may well have had more children had she lived, but Rayla’s parents spent multiple years at the Storm Spire and she remained an only child.

I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment at the Storm Spire either. Sure, they could abstain or get creative, but oof, hasn’t enough been asked of them?

Even looking at prior generations, we do not see large families. Given the closeness in ages of the siblings we know of, it also seems unlikely to me that children were lost in childbirth or to childhood illnesses.

To me, it seems far more likely that family planning is active in Xadia and would be a tool Callum and Rayla could exercise.

Clearly, no birth control is infallible (or I guess it can be, magic and all) and I assume Miyana’s twins were unplanned.

Personally, I head canon Rayla herself was an oopsie baby in order to further explain the complications of her parents being called away to join the Dragon Guard.

Where am I going with this? I don’t even know anymore.

I suppose, to me, it’s not a foregone conclusion that in seven years Rayllum would have a kid (or indeed multiple). The setting of the world doesn’t imply that it’s particularly difficult to prevent pregnancy. In fact, the small families imply to me that family planning is a cultural norm among elves and humans.

Faced with the imminent threat of Aaravos’ return, would Rayllum plan to start a family? Certainly, people put off having children for far lesser reasons.

We also don’t know how using dark magic, even in that limited capacity, has affected Callum and the potential for him to get possessed again. It was clearly enough to physically mark him, but does that go deeper?

Would imprisoning Aaravos once again result in an inevitable possession?

Not great when Dad gets taken over and abandons the family.

Or worse, Mum has to take him out.

Angsty though!

As usual, I’ll be doing my own thing in my fics, but I’m interested to see where Arc 3 goes with this (optimistically assuming we get it). There are a lot of factors at play to explain why we might see a lot of the characters in a state of stasis. Seven years isn’t that long when you’re facing the world ending, after all. Particularly when you’re likely to play a very active part in trying to stop that returning apocalypse.

So, which way to go? I see the angst potential in both.

On one hand, you’ve got the pain and desperation of protecting your kid from a returned Aaravos, or perhaps worse, a possessed Dad.

But on the other, you’ve got two people who likely want to take the next steps in their lives, but feel the pressure of a ticking bomb haunting them and potentially preventing them from moving forward.

Either way, bring on the pain.

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[davinciae]

here i am, pry me open what do you want to know? i'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence

but here's a map, here's a shovel here's my achilles' heel i'm all in, palms out i'm at your mercy now and i'm ready to begin.

— eight, sleeping at last

[kazxraval]

Kaz answered with a soft grunt. Yet another thing saved for later, would he even remember half of this trip? This mix of lows with a few euphoric peaks. These facets of Emre cut and polished in front of him that Kaz wanted to retreat with into a grotto or dorm and hold to the light. Study them all, peer through every geometric pattern, every sparkle. An impossibility and yet Kaz wanted to spend the time trying. His ruby, no wonder he thought to swallow the ones given to him long ago.

It made him forget much of what happened. Beatings, blood. A fear totally unknown, until today. That he might've lost Emre.

He huffed, a little amused. "What you want with my mates?" Kaz's fingers weaved tight with Emre's. "Carmen, Fiona. They probably got out before all this shit went down. You're right, don't want anyone I cared about here." Seattle overrun, what other places were like this? "Fuck, we gotta be better off." They both referred to the island as home. A first for Kaz.

Kaz would prefer to talk about anything else. Not on the boat anyway, not in the middle of a mess. "Punished? Nah. I wasn't. I'm punished now with the worst headache of my life." The heel of his head pressed above gashes and swelling close to a temple. The topography of the worst parts of the trip all over his face and body.

I've only felt things for you, that I'd never felt for anyone else. So unexpected, or was it? The 'cheers' at the end, the settling back into their forced forward momentum made him question the involuntary smile on his face. Thick spears of pain pierced his head, neck, shoulders, chest-- damn near everywhere else. All made it difficult to comprehend much. Perception skewed, maybe Kaz didn't know what to make of anything at the moment.

As long as he was understood. "Georgie was a drop of rain." The steady rainfall had grown heavier, not the usual thin mist. All Kaz had to do was open a hand, and a fat bead of water splattered on his skin, like a little explosion. "Me and you, we're the ocean." Probably sounded cheesy as fuck, but through what he assumed at that point was a concussion he suffered, it needed to be said.

Those words, my humanity, my goals. People kept as memories (Omar, Urmilla, Ajit). All a succinct barbed wire string of moving images cinched around his heart for Emre. Kaz stood quiet for a moment.

His hand unlatched from Emre's to cradle a face he'd not tired of examining, at great distances as well as up close, with eyes shut to dreams or rubbing the sleep away in the morning. Kaz kissed him. Not near as long as he'd like, but he lingered as much as possible in the soft heat, while bobbed around on the waves. When he broke away, Kaz said, "When we were on the water, you asked me if you were the most beautiful." They were interrupted by that fuckwit Feroze. "I said you were a beautiful thing. And you're the most beautiful too."

Kaz felt he'd spilled so much of himself, like the insides of the bodies they needed to dump. Unforgivably obvious, as slippery and bright red across the deck as the blood at their feet. Then, he was smiling again. "Don't think you were an ass. I liked it. You don't sing anymore. Guess you woo'ed me and were done with the songs, yeah?" A tease, of course.

There they were, sucked through some existential bilge pump and spit back out into a very cold and bitter sea. Surreal to hear Georgina, of all people, inform them of the state of the family Raval. The facts (lies? very probably from Georgie to throw at least a few in) were sorted as he might have back in his days as a journalist. All block lettered in sharply drawn columns, hints with sketches to accompany. To place in a dead file, bury, or use when something missing called to him.

Kaz didn't spring to life again until Georgie claimed he was needy. "Are you joking?" A poisonous laugh burst from his throat, despite the knowledge she made every attempt to wind him up. "Holy shit-- you were THE neediest person I'd ever me!" So many examples to choose from. "Was it the 3rd time we fucked that you said you were pregnant? Just to trap me? Stop lying Georgie. All you did was try to run off my friends. If you thought I was meeting up with someone you didn't like, you'd call me back saying someone was stalking you. Or your brother beat you up, remember that one? For five fucking minutes of your life. Stop."

Georgie scoffed, seemingly unable to counter what Kaz threw at her. You know Ali's on this boat? Her eyes flitted over to meet Emre's. A long pause, what Georgie clearly envisioned to be dramatic. A visual check-mate, before she simpered, 'I do believe you know the answer.'

Outside in the cold wind, Emre seemed more serious than before. Not that Kaz wasn't. But he still reeled from Georgie's insanity, and fought the desire to crash in the captain's unmade bed.

"We're a few hours out from Seattle. I say we dump Georgie and head to Victoria, but doubt we'd have the gas for it. Maybe we can make it to the coast at least. Emre, you're thinking about something, I can tell. Is it Georgie? What is it?" We know the rules, luv.

When Ali was confronted by the news-- your brother's dead --he snapped his wrist out of Emre's grip and covered it with his other hand. Big brown eyes went even wider and tears welled, which made Ali seem even more fragile. After a long pause, his mouth knotted up. Tears spilled, first from the right eye and then both.

His anger burned a hole through Emre. 'You're lying.' A pause, then a shout. 'You're LYING!' A swift leg whipped out to kick Emre's shin. Then, small hands gave Emre a shove to the stomach before balled fists lashed out.

'Where is my brother!' Ali whirled around to face Kaz, like an adolescent kitten's attempt to intimidate the two adult alleycats that cornered him. His lower lip began to quiver and his voice rose higher. 'Feroze! I found them, those two DICKS,' said like a proud 12 year old cursing for the first time, which wasn't far from the truth for Ali. Then, blurted as he reached for the first thing he could: an empty bucket on deck, that he threw at Kaz's chest.

Kaz managed to dodge the bucket and held his hands up. "Hey, it's true. You know your brother was involved in some shady shit. But." A quick glance at Emre. "This guy wants to help you, okay. So stop shouting! I know it's not how it's supposed to be. We didn't want this either." As Kaz went on, Ali's eyes landed on a thin trail of blood on the deck, and began to follow it visually as it widened into a pool. As dark as it was out, the moon seemed to highlight the violence. As well as the ghostly unmoving arm on deck, a hint of the Captain's speargunned body around the corner.

Kaz dropped a hand to Ali's shivering shoulder, the truth shaking Ali's whole frame. "Feroze isn't coming! He's gone. You gotta suck it up. You gotta keep going. So, let us help you get the hell out of here in one piece."

Kaz blinked. Thought he did, anyway. When his eyes opened, he was still hunched over little Ali, fingers cupped at the kid's shoulder.

But they weren't on the boat anymore.

Kaz slowly straightened up. They stood under an umbrella of light from a street lamp. Evergreen trees soared and peeks of a snowy mountain popped through the green from far away. They were at the corner of a neighborhood street lined with older single family homes. One car garages and small but fairly neat lawns. Not sprawling or anything fancy, built for practical living rather than to impress.

Ali asked the reasonable question of where are we, and Kaz whispered back equally as stunned that he wasn't certain. Except. It was way too familiar...

Two kids around Ali's age sat on bikes in a nearby driveway. A boy and a girl. Siblings. Maybe even twins. They stared silently at Kaz and Ali. Oddly in observation.

Ali waved, and Kaz grabbed his hand to force down. He called out. "Reyansh? Ani?"

The kids made no sound between them. Their eyes said more, the girl confused and the boy protective. They circled their bikes out of the driveway to pedal away. The girl in particular cast a look over her shoulder as they took off in the opposite direction.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck. Ahhh." He looked around. "Emre! We gotta find Emre. EM! WHERE ARE YOU??"

"He's only a little," Emre sighed, not bothering to hold back his sentimentality. Kaz wouldn't deride him for feeling things, not like Emre's old mates. And Kaz didn't follow up, leaving Emre to believe perhaps Kaz allowed a bit of softening too; if not for his sake, or Ali's sake, but for Emre's. The power of influence, and love. Emre had used love before to manipulate Iyaz, for Iyaz's own good (so Emre convinced himself). With Kaz, though? It felt...so clean, so honest. Emre couldn't help a beaming little smile, incongruous to their surroundings.

Still picking at a carcass. Trust Kaz to point out the hard, dire reality. "Are we the lucky ones? Got my mum, running for her life. Here's your Seattle, caught up in this mad-max survival. I'd wondered if we'd run into your mates here, but maybe...it's better we don't find out what happened to them. Kaz.." Emre wanted to reach out, say he was sorry. But it sounded trite, stupid. He just held Kaz's hand instead, fingers pressing into Kaz's sturdy palm.

Shaking his head, Emre knew he wouldn't figure out the map-word mystery. Maybe it didn't even matter. As Kaz implied: they didn't belong in this world, not anymore. And Kaz caressed and pinched, and looked at Emre like they were the only things that did matter. It wouldn't be the first time everything around them was cut away, leaving only Kaz to fill Emre's entire gaze. All-encompassing - those terms of endearment tumbling so naturally from Kaz's mouth, like little diamonds.

Emre held Kaz's hand in place and murmured, plaintively, "I could lie in your little unmade bed for a million years. I want to go home." Home. The island. A place of relative safety and privilege. A place to not think about anything else but Kaz. Selfish, indulgent, and perhaps even lucky.

In this old fishing boat throughway, Kaz unlocked more recollections of himself and Georgie. Love. It was love, though Kaz wouldn't say it. And Georgina knew it and broke Kaz's heart. "So you knew what it felt like. And you were punished for it anyway."

Emre marveled at this little gem of information, unsure how to parse it just yet. He was exhausted, Kaz even moreso, he imagined. Yet Emre still continued, "I've only felt things for you, that I'd never felt for anyone else. Not even Melz." Emre smiled, guessing Kaz might ask. "Not sure what to make of all this right now, if I'm honest. But. Cheers for telling me, yeah. I mean it."

Emre hummed at Kaz's query. "Loads of things. Seemed only thing I did manage to let go of though, was bits of myself, innit. My humanity. My - my goals and dreams and hopes and that. If I lost anymore people though, who would I have left? I couldn't let go of them, nah. Not even as memories. I replayed memories a million times in my head."

Singing in the rock. New, bright memories flooded in. Emre kissed his teeth, lightly butting his head against Kaz's shoulder. "Fucking hell, of course you'd hold onto my most embarrassing moments. Precious memories is me making an arse of myself, is that it?" A low, amused chuckle, fully adoring and in complete contrast of their dire surroundings. But currently, it truly was just him and Kaz right now, nothing and no one else.

The world couldn't stay dammed-up for long though. It returned in big, forceful chunks around Emre's periphery, and here they were stood, completely knackered and filthy and bloody and stuck in a tin can on the water of a nightmare city.

Back with Georgie, who was looking a bit worse for the wear. Did she feel it? She mocked them, but still gave up the gossip anyway. Something to do, something to manipulate Kaz with, she likely hoped. Dad in prison, brother...somewhere. Mum divorced. That was surprising to Emre. "Priya didn't follow Edward as well. And look what she made of herself, staying in Seattle. Pairing up with you." His lip curled at Georgina.

Georgie's glare remained on Kaz, though. "On a beach. And you paired up too? With him?" She tried a flippant toss of her grey-gold hair. "Kazzy could never stay alone for long. He's soooo needy."

Kaz, the most self-sufficient man that Emre had ever known. The very definition of 'lone wolf'. He actually could imagine a younger Kaz, duped by this woman and the ideals of love, deciding to reject everything to do with love entirely. The Raval's had done a good job scrubbing that concept raw; then Georgina came along and made it worse, an infection for Kaz to rid himself of completely.

Emre did his best not to look directly at Kaz. Because Kaz would read everything in Emre's eyes, he knew; and Georgina would see that. Her childish retort, and Emre silently prompted her with the map. She decided on one port: Fermé. Emre thinned his eyes.

"You know Ali's on this boat?" His tone was ominously quiet. Was Frank the captain supposed to encounter them mid-sail? Did Georgina somehow plan all of - no. That was impossible. Georgina couldn't have masterminded how this all fell out. She hadn't expected Emre to even make it out of that operating table back on Whidbey.

And as if on cue, Ali started up his caterwauling. Fucking hell, Emre hated coincidences.

At Kaz's beckon, Emre followed him back outside. Emre stared hard at the dark water and moonlit islands around them. Not many other lights to guide them. Not even any lighthouses, no blinking buoys to warn them off rocky juts in the water. It was dangerous, sailing like this. They needed land, or they needed teleporting out of there.

"Even if we land there, what then? We just...wait up to five days? Let Georgina go? How far are we from Seattle, now?" Take Ali back to their island? Emre blinked in surprise at Kaz. "We know the rules, luv. We can't risk breaking them with a child..." Could they? Save Ali or get him killed - were those their only two choices?

The little sod had impeccable timing. Emre chastized Kaz with a look for stomping on the hatch - he opened it, and hauled Ali out by his shirt collar. Emre let him stand, but held onto Ali's thin wrist.

"Run if you like but there's no where to go, I'm afraid." And then bluntly, "Your brother's dead. He knew the sort of life he got - got you both into, didn't he. Now he's dead for it. You're all alone, now. You was in this hatch when we found you, reckon Captain Frank would trade you for parts, yeah?" Emre held Ali's tattooed wrist to see. "Feroze every told you what he actually did then? Working for Georgina? She's in there, if you want to go to her."

[moonchild-in-blue]

I just want everyone to know that in the span of 3 days, I have made 3 loads of laundry, and have a 4th already sorted and ready to go (which includes towels / blankets / bedding). I still need to fold them and put them away BUT the important part is done 🥹

[fionnaskyborn]

People like this have made me terrified that I am mischaracterizing my favorite character by playing into his strengths and emphasizing them so much... That I'm making things "too anime", "too over-the-top", and by doing that straying away from the groundedness that made the character compelling in the first place... But I think it's better to be a fan who loves someone so much they're willing to step into goofy over-the-top showcases of strength and morals out of love than being a fake fan who only ever rags on what they proclaim is so dear to them. I dunno. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that. I'm hella insecure when it comes to my own writing, especially with this guy because I want to do him as much justice as I possibly can as a writer. But I have to convince myself that it's not too much.

[nexus-nebulae]

got myself a little pocket radio bc you never know when severe weather might knock out the power or cell towers but apparently there aren't any weather radio stations i can pick up :/

[onrainynights]

I'm about to be so annoying btw

[theradicalace]

i just think it's so funny that when *i* lash out and start bitching *about* management to my coworkers because of a stressful day at work, i get pulled into the office to discuss my attitude, but when a manager lashes out and bitches *at me* because of a stressful work day, i get a halfassed "oh sorry, but-" and i'm expected to roll over and take it.

[ame-to-ame]

Rereading ayaka is in love with Hiroko senpai!!! Last time I read it I don't think it was finished/I didn't finish it but ack. Now I also want to be in love 😭😭😭

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)