#this is for you and me who were robbed of an ending they deserve

[beeseverywhen]

Still makes me so mad that the hospital stole my teeth when I was too out of it from the anesthesia to fight them on it. I grew those! Just because they turned on me and I needed them out of my body, doesn't mean I didn't want to keep them.

[somewhereincairparavel]

percy had an 'im a big three son' moment when he choked a goddess with her own saliva (controlling a fluid that was INSIDE her body) annabeth was terrified.

nico had an 'im a big three son' moment when he disembodied bryce lawrence (quite literally dissipating and shrinking his LIVING soul into a spirit) and threw him to the underworld, smashing his zombie warriors. reyna was terrified.

yet we were robbed of jason's 'im a big three son' moment where he sucks the air out of someone's lungs and makes them stop breathing, or damaging a person's nervous system with his lightning control, and literally cause internal bleeding, or a damaged/fried skull if he electrocuted hard enough (look up the effects of lightning damage on body y'all will get a whole list, tbh he doesn't even need lightning to do any of this, air control is more than enough since air takes charge of everything going inside the body, but this is just an added effect.) he could give people STROKES if he wanted to. he's the literal definition of burnt out kid who was suppressed from discovering the magnitude of his abilities, because one, his dad's ego wouldn't be able to handle it, two, because he, for some reason, can't be allowed to do anything other than get knocked out :/

also adding on, hardcore pjo fans know that after the ending page of boo, there's this fan story that rick chose to publish in the last few pages of the book where a fan reimagines the ending of hoo, in that work, annabeth collapses from an attack and percy sobs clutching her body. jason calmly asks him to step aside, and kneels before annabeth, jason regulates her breathing using his wind/lightning powers and brings annabeth back fully from her cardiac arrest, causing percy to be relieved. (I wanted to link the pics of the pages here so bad but I didn't have the hard copy of the book with me, and this isn't available anywhere online either, only in the original covers of boo uk and us version, so I edited this post and asked people to reblog this post w the pics if they have the hardcopy, and a kind blogger found the story I'm talking about and reblogged the pictures of the pages, you can check my reblogs of this post for the pictures of the almost all the pages after this scene) considering rick approved and even liked the fan's work well enough to publish it in the official boo book, I'd say rick was aware and never completely ruled out expanding jason's abilities and had them in mind, he simply didn't incorporate it into the books. (also W fan for giving jason the rep he deserves, I will always remember you, you saw the VISION before any of us did, the story was very well written, with great dialogue.)

[spacelazarwolf]

apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:

Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.

Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.

I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .

honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.

if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.

[meelusinee]

WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND | M.R X READER

word count \ 1.8k | fluff and stuff | slash / mattheo riddle x reader

in which you spend christmas with mattheo and his friends (part two to lovesick!mattheo) author's note at the end!

THIRD PART HERE - dancing in the rain ep

WALKING IN A WINTER WONDERLAND | M.R X READER

It had been a long while since you and Mattheo had gotten together, a relationship full of notes and songs dedicated to you. You tried to keep everything you could in a small box, the widest smile on Mattheo’s face coming out when he saw the box for the first time.

Suffice to say that his appreciative kisses and cuddles kept you rather warm that night.

Over the course of your relationship, you had met Mattheo’s friends as well. It started indirectly, whenever they would barge into his dorm room and find you both cuddling. 

Theodore was the one you talked to the most. He was Mattheo’s best friend, and often teased him quite a bit about how much he loved you. Theo was the one who told you about the love letters that Mattheo made in the first place, which you shall forever be grateful for. 

Blaise and Draco were the friends that you often went to if you wanted to get on a cruise ship the next week, or whenever you wanted the best wine seller for a Slytherin party that weekend. And Enzo or Pansy were the friends you’d go to if you wanted all of that done illegally.

All in all, a rather good friend group.

Which led you to where you were going right now. A legal holiday adventure hosted by Draco at one of his vacation houses somewhere in the world. Mattheo and you decided to spend some time together driving to the place, which eventually led to Theo coming along. Theo invited Blaise to smoke with him. Blaise invited Draco to pay for road trip snacks. Draco invited Pansy because they were dating. And Pansy invited Enzo for reasons you still hadn’t been told yet.

That meant you had to take your family van.

You and Mattheo sat in the front, with Theo, Ezo  and Blaise in the middle. Pansy and Draco sat in the backseats, dining in on the couple time that you and Mattheo had been robbed of. Still, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Are we there yet?” Enzo whined, head leaning forward.

Maybe one change or two.

“No, we’re not.” Mattheo said, sighing softly as he continued driving forward. “I told you this five minutes ago.”

“Maybe the path changed within five minutes!” Enzo said to him. 

“Yeah, five minutes closer. Not an hour!” you said, chuckling softly as you squeezed Mattheo’s hand. 

“You two are mean.” Enzo pouted, turning to look at Blaise. “Right Blaise?”

��It’s deserved.” he said, flipping through the pages of his book. He recently got reading glasses that Draco and Enzo had teased him endlessly for. “Ow!”

“No kicking!” Pansy said, swatting Enzo’s head from the backseat.

“I say go full-in.” Theo said, which ensued an argument about the ethics of kicking someone whenever they don’t agree with your opinion. You and Mattheo turned to look at each other with soft sighs, similar to parents dealing with toddlers going to Disneyland.

“Can you all hush back there?” you said, the tiniest smirk present on your face as you started at Mattheo. “Your father is trying to drive, hey don’t hit me!”

“Hush.” he said, gently booping your nose.

“Are we there now?” Enzo asked as Mattheo pulled into the parking lot, gasping loudly at the sight of the cabin. “Woah.”

It was decorated to the most Christmas extent you could think of. Bushes covered in lights, icicle lights hanging from the roof, wreaths placed all over the place. There were bells on top of the mailbox that chimed when you passed by it, and a large and bright star at the tippy top of the roof. If you didn’t know where you were, you’d think you walked into a Christmas market hosted by Santa.

The seven of you walked out of the car, Draco walking through first as he inspected the house.

“My mother has a knack for Christmas,” he muttered, his feet making a rather large imprint in the snow. “I didn't think it was this big though.” 

“I bet the Christmas tree is so pretty.” Pansy squealed, running to the front door. “Open it!”

“Give me a moment, Pans!” he said, trying to figure out which key opened the front door from the ring his mother had given him. You and Mattheo stayed behind while the rest of them rushed forward, watching them rush inside once Draco got it open.

“It looks rather magical.” you whispered, giggling as a small snowflake fell on your nose.

“It really does.” Mattheo whispered softly, his eyes glued on you as he spoke. “The most magical thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re so sappy.” you smiled.

Mattheo chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around you. There were two puffer jackets separating your skin from his, but you wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. “We should go on a walk.”

“We should!” you said, your boots making an indent on the snow as you both walked down the path. 

The path was even more magical than the house itself, you noticed, with Christmas trees lining the whole way down. It seemed that all of the trees within the field were swaddled in Christmas lights. Some were regular, some were colored, and others had ornaments or lights at the tip of them.

“This really is beautiful.” you whispered, gasping at the string lights and small candles that gently flew between the trees. How they didn’t get put out by the snow, you had no idea. “Wow.”

“You’re beautiful.” he whispered, chuckling softly as he kissed your forehead. “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you this whole time.” 

“Well, you better start.” you pouted, turning to him. “The trees are really pretty.”

Mattheo nodded, laughing as you grabbed his chin to direct him where to look. His eyes took in the snowed over area first, the lights on the trees after that. There was red, green, and blue lights bouncing together, along with the regularly colored lights that shined bright on the glittery ornaments.

“They are rather pretty, yes.” he whispered. “Though I feel like it’s quite a lot of color rather than just one.” 

“What really is Christmas if not to turn you blind with bright lights?” you asked, smiling as the both of you walked further down the path. 

“Okay everyone, gather around!” Mattheo said, a bass guitar in hand. The night was rising as the sun was setting, the firepit that Blaise and Enzo had made cracking through the burning wood.

“What are we doing?” Pansy asked, sitting down on one of the wooden logs. Mattheo sat down next to you as Draco sat down next to Pansy. Theo sat next to Mattheo purely to annoy him, while Blaise and Enzo sat on the other log.

“We’re going to sing the Jingle Bell Rock.” Mattheo said, setting the bass guitar on his knees as he began testing it. “Found this in the attic.”

“What on Earth are you doing in my attic?” Draco asked, a cup of wine in his hands.

“Hey, it was open!” Theo said, having assisted with the raid of the Christmas attic. “And we found a bunch of very interesting things.”

“Like what?” Enzo leaned forward with a smirk, before Blaise whacked him in the head. “Ow!”

“They’re just messing with Draco.” Blaise said. “There was only old cobwebs and his parents’ Hogwarts uniforms, nothing scandalous.”

“A shame though.” Theo muttered, lighting a joint before turning to Mattheo. “You gonna play?”

“Yup.” Mattheo said, his fingers running against the strings as he played the opening to the Jingle Bell Rock. 

You and Pansy giggled as the boys all joined together to sing the song, all completely out of tune. Pansy shared a glance with you as you both began to sing the back up vocals, all of you swaying in tune with the music. 

You went from the Jingle Bell Rock to Rockin Around the Christmas Tree. Mattheo and you sang Baby it’s Cold Outside while Theo and Enzo gagged, and Draco dramatically sang Frosty the Snowman with tears in his eyes. Enzo stood up dramatically, pausing the guitar as he began to sing a song about a grandma being run over by a reindeer.

“Okay, that’s enough weed for you,” Draco said, sitting Enzo back down. “We are not running grandmas over with reindeer.”

“Says you!” Theo cackled, crossing his legs. “I for one find the idea rather pleasant.” 

“Pleasant?” Pansy asked incredulously, shaking her head as she very quickly snatched Theo’s joint out of his hand. “That’s it, we’re cutting you off too.”

“My joint!” Theo yipped.

“Mattheo?” you called out, poking your head out of the door as you saw him sitting by the firepit.

“Yeah?” he asked, head lifting at the sound of your voice. You felt your face heating up at the smile that spread on his face, feeling it enough to heat you better than any fire could. “Hi there my love.”

“Everyone’s inside making hot chocolate before they go to bed.” you whispered, walking closer to him. Your hands found their way to the sides of his face, kissing the tip of his nose before you sat down next to him on the log. “Do you want some?”

“No, I’m good.” he whispered, kissing your forehead before wrapping his arm around you.

“You sure?” you whispered, wrapping both of your arms around his waist. “You feel rather cold out here. Your face is all red.”

“That’s because I’m staring at a really pretty girl.” he chuckled softly, kissing your lips ever so gently.

You giggled softly, placing your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him with the cutest expression he could ever think of. For him, you felt like epitome of Christmas. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” you said, nuzzling your nose against his playfully.

“No, I love you more.” he smiled softly at you.

“Not true.” you pouted, kissing his nose. “Because I love you so much more.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, chuckling softly. “Well I wrote you songs. So obviously, I love you more.”

“Yeah, well I saved them!” you pouted.

“You did save them.” he reasoned, nodding his head as he looked at the firepit. He put on a serious expression, pretending to truly ponder whether you loved him more or he loved you more. “Still think I love you more though.”

“That’s not fair.” you grumbled, burying your face against the crook of his neck. “It’s cold.”

“Why don’t we go inside then?” he asked gently, his fingertips caressing your shoulder. “You didn’t come out with your jacket, you must be freezing.”

“I am.” you whispered, standing up as he did. “Hot chocolate?”

Mattheo chuckled softly at your insistence, kissing your forehead once more before putting out the fire. “Anything for you.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

ITS HEREEEEE!!! i wanted to do a second part for mattheo and i thought that i might as well do christmas-themed since it's already blasting on the radio. i'm tryingggg to heal my christmas spirit that i have lost over the years, esp because i always thought it was just about that one mariah carey song since my sister would play it every. single. day. even during my birthday (i was born in june.)

BUT, as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

have a good day everyone!

[archangeldyke-all]

Idea: Isha thinks Santa is real and is horrified of him because she thinks he doesn’t like her because she never celebrated before as well, she was a kid in the mines.

When decorating time rolls around she’s all pouty and sad until you and Sev confront the poor baby.

this is so fucking funny hahahaehhhaheahe

men and minors dni

it's christmas eve.

your family doesn't do the traditional christmas, especially since your family wasn't even a family this time last year.

you and sevika's usual christmas tradition is a nice homemade meal by the fire, maybe exchanging a few gifts, ending the night in your matching mr. and mrs. claus lingerie (just two santa hat and whatever red underwear you can find.)

but now you've got the girls, so you're trying to get a little more festive.

jinx and isha drug home a fallen pine tree branch a few days ago, decorating it with streamers and paper snowflakes they made themselves.

you and sevika splurged on christmas lights, hanging them on your front porch and lining the walls of your home with the multi-colored twinkles. of course, you've both been hoarding gifts for the girls-- anything and everything you could find that you thought they might enjoy you've piled up in the you and sevika's super secret hiding spot (under the bed) waiting to be wrapped tonight when the girls go to sleep.

it's been fun!

isha's been endlessly enchanted by the sparkly lights lining the streets, she squeals each time she sees a rudolph or snowman decoration, and she's obsessed with all the sweet treats that come around with this time of year. hot chocolate, christmas cookies, candy canes-- isha loves it all.

jinx has been having a wonderful time introducing isha to all the fun traditions that come around with the season. she custom made herself and isha matching stockings (she made you, vi, and sevika stockings too-- but none of them were quite as sparkly and fun as isha's.) she's been referring to the little girl as her 'elf'-- isha always bursts into giggles when she does. and when there's fresh snow-- jinx has been bundling the little girl up and dragging her outside to introduce her to the joys of snowballs and snowmen and snow angels.

so, overall, you've all been feeling pretty jolly.

but... you're starting to get a little worried tonight, because isha's been becoming increasingly restless.

you've got the fire going, christmas music playing on the radio, the four of you sharing a plate of cookies and sipping on eggnog in matching flannel jammies.

isha's frowning down at her feet, a worried furrow in her brow.

jinx is fighting off sleep on the couch, sevika's stoking the fire. you reach out and nudge the little girl's shoulder.

"you okay, baby?" you ask. sevika blinks over at the pair of you concern on her face as she looks at isha.

isha blinks up at you with anxious eyes. what is santa? she signs.

you look at your wife, the two of you having a panicked, telepathic conversation.

should we tell her he's not real? sevika's face reads.

you shrug. she's only five, she deserves at least one year of believing, don't you think? you ask with a quirk of your brow.

sevika sighs and gestures for you to speak. you giggle.

"santa's an old man who lives in the north pole, making toys all year with the help of his elves. on christmas eve, when we're all sleeping, he travels across the world using magic and flying reindeer, leaving presents for well-behaved kiddos just like you!" you explain happily.

only, isha looks horrified.

he comes in our house when we're sleeping!? she signs. sevika chuckles. what if he robs us?

"nah, kid, santa's a jolly old man. he's not a thief. he's been doin' this for hundreds of years and he's i've never heard of anyone getting robbed by santa." sevika says.

isha still looks skeptical. okay... but what about the song? he sees me when i'm sleeping and knows when i'm awake? how?

sevika snorts. "you're awfully smart for a five year old." she says, ruffling her hair. "santa's magic kid, 's how it all works." she explains.

isha hums, kicking her feet and digesting the new information. jinx snorts awake, blinking around and trying to pretend she's been awake the whole time.

what if he doesn't like me? isha signs.

your heart breaks a little, and you wrap your arm around her. "why wouldn't santa like you, kiddo? you're a great little girl. way better than jinx-- and jinx never got coal."

"hey!" jinx protests.

isha giggles a bit, then she frowns again, a tear trailing down her cheek. but... he never left me presents before.

your heart shatters. beside you, sevika lets out a heartbroken whimper.

"oh, isha baby..." you coo, pulling the girl into your lap.

"santa's not real, isha." jinx cuts in. you and sevika gasp and glare at her and she chuckles. "what?! it's true. he's made up, he's a fairy tale-- parents use him to trick little kids into behaving well."

isha sighs in relief. so, if i'm bad ms. baby and big mama will still give me presents? she asks.

you burst into giggles, and beside you sevika cackles.

"'course, kiddo. sevika gave me a holiday present the same year i blew her fuckin' arm off-- there's not much you can do that'll stop 'em from spoiling you from now on." jinx says.

well... shit. now you've got tears in your eyes. you didn't know that about sevika, and it only makes you love her more. you reach out and grab her hand, only to find it shaking a little. she must be just as affected by jinx's words as you are.

it takes you a few seconds to make sure your voice won't wobble before you speak. "alright, speaking of-- the two of you gotta go to your room so me and sev can put your gifts out. try to sleep, please." you say.

jinx giggles and pulls isha in her arms, both of them hugging and kissing you and sevika goodnight before wandering to their room.

the second their door clicks closed, you and sevika are in eachother's arms, crying with gratitude for your girls; the best gift you could've fucking asked for.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite

[mondaymelon]

— " 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧... "

art by @/kodokunoakashi on twitter, edited by me !! angst. an eensey weensey redemption at the end

xiao, zhongli, wanderer, neuvillette x gn!reader

[ centuries after their lover’s passing, they finally are able to rest in your ghostly touch. ₊˚ෆ ]

Perhaps the day he had found your lifeless body, eyes long fluttered closed and splatters of red decorating your throat was the day Xiao began falling apart.

He knew it from the start, that your death would be inevitable. You weren’t like him - a weary soul who had traversed these lands for thousands of years in search of a refuge that Teyvat had never provided for him. No, you were like the evening’s first star, brilliantly shining and setting the entire night sky ablaze. A warm glow that sparked flames wherever its light reached. He was one of many fortunate enough to be caught in your spiraling trap, those cursedly charming grins and a laugh with the innocence of a child. Your sweet warmth was addicting, and once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of it. Was that why the adeptus found himself leaving his corner of the inn more and more often, just to trail by your side? Maybe this was the reason he had found himself expressing something on his lips that he had never before?

Fragments split your face in his memory. Years, decades, centuries had passed. To the outside eye, all that could be observed was that the yaksha was particularly more elusive than before, only having briefly appeared once or twice before mortals. With ignorant and foggy minds, they’d declare that the Conqueror of Demons must feel despair over the sudden death of Rex Lapis, and they’d just leave it like that. An open question hanging in the air with no answer to pair it with.

Xiao didn’t know if he still had tears left to weep. 

His brethren that he had lost so many years ago had robbed them with their passing, and they were nothing left but an empty remnant of once had remained. A shapeless echo… yes, perhaps that was what he was now. All that knew him were certain that your passing had stolen a part of him that would never recover. The fragments of emotion that you had left with him had only dissipated with time, and he despised himself for it. Shards that danced in his vision as he hefted his spear, whirling it with precision and slaughtering all in its path. They had dared lay hands on you. They had taken whatever resolve he had left. Now, he was but a shell, hollow without your embrace.

It’s cold.

Sometimes, he heard your laugh on the wind, and he’d whip around, expecting to see you there, but only to be met with the terrible, terrible silence, and all the adeptus could do was laugh bitterly. Crystalline drops of tears would threaten to roll past the barriers of his carefully crafted facade, and he’d curse at himself, grasping at his chest with heavy breaths and blown eyes.

He didn’t deserve to cry. No, not after he had failed to protect you. Guilt, self-loathing, karma, all of it… it bound him down with red tendrils that burned against his skin. Pain bloomed throughout his body, a brilliant crimson that stained his clothing, an anguish that he ardently welcomed. His vision dimmed, and his honey eyes which had long since lost their light slowly shut, embracing the darkness that reached for him.

Darkness, so how come when he opened his drowsy lids, all he saw was light?

“Xiao?”

A familiar voice, one that had blurred with time, yet now rang clearly in his senses. Those excitement-filled eyes, that mischievous curve on your lips, and the warmth of your fingers with his. The grass prickled at his back, and the scent of blooming wildflowers filled the air with its spring sweetness.

A smile tugged at his lips. His sorrow spilled from his eyes. He almost could’ve laughed at your concerned gaze, and with a bandaged heart he pulled you closer in his arms. His wounded voice was barely a whisper. “Thank you… for waiting for me all this time, love.”

He still remembers it. It’s a sight that’s been burned into his eyes. The way his composed expression had collapsed, how his disgraced self had fallen to his raw knees. Zhongli had held you then, feeling the precious warmth leave your body, listening to the thrum of your heart slowly ebbing away.

He had been seconds too late to hear what you had spoken in that moment, and only saw the wordless utter on your moving lips, the raspy, labored breaths, until they ceased to nothing but silence. How could something void of sound be so unequivocally loud? The silence rings in his ears, like a horrible testament of his broken contract. That bright moment the two of you had shared seemed centuries ago, an abstract painting of something that couldn’t have possibly occurred. With a beaming face, you had held his larger, gloved hand with two of your smaller ones, grinning at his touch.

“Let’s always be together, okay? No one can keep us apart!” You laughed to yourself at how red the man had grown at your words, and then stared fondly at the silver band he had placed on your finger a day prior, when he had kissed your hands and uttered his words of confession. Red dusted your cheeks at the thought, and to the wide-eyed man, you looked simply ethereal, with the way your lashes fluttered with every blink and the way your cheeks were warm with a smile.

“Yes.” Zhongli had been starstruck by you, so utterly breathless at how speechless a mere mortal could make him. It was astounding, how your smile seemed to steal his words away. He wanted to do nothing but to freeze those seconds, to place them in a glass and cherish them and relive them in a loop that lasted eternity.

Oh, what’d he do to see the way your lips curved upwards into a cheeky grin that you’d display just for him, the snarky comments leaving your mouth, and the way you laughed at his subtle reactions.

It’s only been two hundred years. Should he say “already?” Time passes slow, then fast, fluctuating without any thought of the man in mind. At times, when the clock strikes midnight and moonlight spills into the courtyard like liquid silver, the seconds slow into minutes and the minutes slow into hours, and he’ll gaze out onto the grassy fields where the two of you used to stroll hand-in-hand, and he’ll allow himself a moment of reminiscence. In other times, the world speeds up around him, and the incompetent man is unable to keep up. Your funeral was one of those times. How could he simply walk away from your framed portrait and declare, “that’s that?” Liyue had suffered a terrible loss, yet only he seemed to register that. How come?

Some days, he’ll talk to himself, as if you’re beside him. His words meet empty air and he smiles vacantly, holding a hand that isn’t there and kissing the lips of someone who is long gone. Your shadow is everywhere. He can’t escape it, but that’s okay. He doesn’t want to. Zhongli allows those remnants of you to linger and dance in the wind with the reddening leaves. By the bridge, excitedly petting the stray dogs, calling each and every one of them the name that you’ve bestowed upon them. A sight Ganyu would have loved to see. Or in the branches of a particular tree, laughing down at him with a giggle like birdsong, taunting words. “Would you look at that? Up here, I’m even taller than you, Zhongli!”

And every time he hears your transparent, faded voice, he can’t help but smile, despite how hopeless he feels. You’re gone, and that’s the truth, so where’s the harm in bathing in your afterimage just a moment longer?

He knows it isn’t you. It can’t ever come close. As centuries blur and whirl past, and he finds himself departing to the more secluded spaces of Liyue’s wilderness, he decides it’s time. His nation no longer needs him. The reason he had for living is gone, and the heart that had once been so lively has dulled.

Would it be too foolish to hope that when he opens his eyes, you’ll be there, waiting for him?

“Xiansheng? Come on, come on sleepyhead, wake up already!” Pause. “Oh, will this do the trick?”

And then there’s warmth on his cheek, the feeling of your lips against his skin, and he feels alive, for the first time in those archon-forsaken years. He knows what he’ll see, when he opens his gilded eyes that are shimmering with dew. “Yes, love. I’m here.”

Betrayal. Those sickening words you had spoken to him, sweet beyond belief… Wanderer hissed through his teeth, holding his hands over his ears as his tears fell to the earth and soaked into the dark earth.

Yes, at that time he should’ve known. The truth you spoke to him was simply too good to be true - a fantasy that could never be attained. Yet he had been swayed by your smile and fell for your warmth, and since then had been willingly trapped in a void that was you, with no intention of escaping. It amazed him, almost, how he can smile in this moment, albeit however sour it is. What more proof did he need? To be unable to stay somber in the moments of your passing, did that not just prove how flawed he was? How undeserving? 

He detested it. No wonder why you had left this world. It was a pain to even be by his side. Words without “love” and a chest that did not thrum with flusteredness could never convince you to stay beside him. Once again, someone he yearns for has cleverly slipped through his fingers. From the beginning, he was a sinner. A worthless puppet incapable of feeling a shred of what you held for him.

Red dripped from his fingers as they clawed at the earth, as he bends into himself with ugly wails. Could you see him now, wherever you were? Tears flowed freely from his eyes, not heeding his mutters for all of it to cease. He wanted it to end, all of it, the suffering that he felt and the emptiness he could never fully elude. The fatui, his mother, they’d all laugh at him with pointed fingers if they saw him now, wouldn’t they? His flushed cheeks are stained with salt and his throat was raw from his shouts. The blood pooling around your body has already cooled, and your fingers that were intertwined with his had already grown cold to the touch. 

“Woah, Wanderer, your skin is really cold! Aren’t you hot at all? It’s summer!” You had stared at him with a childlike fascination, holding his hand in yours, poking it for extra effect, only growing more astonished.

“It’s nothing to be impressed over.” He cleared his throat into his fist, yet did not let go of your hold. “If anything…” At the time, his words had not completed themselves, yet his gaze had trailed to your own hands, and he had kissed the back of them with a cheeky half-smile. I like yours. They’re warm. There had been an inkling of naive hope, that your life could fill the void in his, and perhaps that was what allowed his plastic expression towards you to grow into true ones.

“H-Hey, c’mon…” His voice broke, unsteady like the legs of a newborn fawn. He took your blood-stained hand and pressed it to his cheek, only further wetting it with his tears. “This isn’t funny, you know, you can… you can stop now…”

Look how broken he’s become, stooping as low as to speak to a corpse.

That was only a decade ago. Every morning, the ache of its recollection brings a fresh dose of misery. Every evening he lulls himself to sleep by repeating the words you once said, imagining the stroke of your hands tangled in his hair, imagining your sunbeam-like smile as you gazed down at him fondly.

Really, what’s the point of living with you gone? Could he really call it “life?”

Those questions still remain sharp in his mind as he sputters out a cough, glancing down at the blade in his shattered chest, positioned right where his heart should have been. Cold, unforgiving steel, driving down and tearing apart. Wanderer blinks up at the cursed heavens above and heaves out blood that leaves a lingering red on his lips, and he can’t bring himself to cry anymore. He spits out a final damnation at Celestia before slipping away, eyes closing as he finally-

“Wanderer? Where’s your hat? You aren’t wearing it today?”

Your voice. It breathes life into his empty soul. Warmth. He wants to hold it, hold you, ever closer like he never had the courage to. His violet eyes spring open as he sits up with a start, his disheveled garments flinging about. “Y-You-!”

“What’s with you today? You’re acting strange, silly. Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” You grin stupidly, an idiocy he finds all so lovable. The twinkle in your eye - you’re alive. You’re breathing and you’re existing before him. A final grace that he can’t thank whatever for enough.

There’s the sound of wind, and then you find yourself tightly wrapped in his embrace, your shoulder stained with his tears that spill despite how much he doesn’t want to show you this weakness. He buries his face into you, and you can feel the ghost of a smile against your skin. “I’ve missed you. So, so much. Please, please, don’t leave me again.”

Lifeless, your body lay, along the shores and lapped by waves stained crimson. That day, Fontaine realized what it was like to truly rain, not a few drops, or even spring showers. Water fell endlessly from the skies, a downpour that may never end, an all-swallowing sea from the heavens that swallowed all unfortunate enough to be caught in its path. Irony clouded the skies, and Neuvillette found himself broken into pieces he didn’t know how to put back together.

His efforts to understand the human population were in vain. A complete, utter failure. How could he possibly judge, knowing the world despised him? Knowing that the scales were upturned and that nothing could ever be just? Your death, it was unfair. Unfair to the world and unfair to he who held you ever so dear. But what else could he do but continue his oversight? Quitting his position wouldn’t bring you back. Nothing would. He could hear your cheery voice in his ear, and the hint of a pout, a chiding tone. “Neuvi, you can’t quit! Let’s all try our best, okay?”

The days where you were by his side were the happiest. Fontaine had become akin to Sumeru’s desert, the sun blazing overhead and the moon shining brightly at night. Yet, how come the people of Fontaine had seemed upset at the skies for his contentment? They begged for rain, begged for their dying crops, to the point where you were forced to distance yourself from the man for days at a time, just the unrelentless sun would cloud over and perhaps a drop or two of rain would be squeezed from the heavens.

If he had known you would leave so soon, he would have never permitted you to depart from his side. If he had known you would pass this world and traverse to the next, he would have held you with every ounce of his soul, he would have declared his love for you over and over, he would have placed the ring he had been saving in his pocket, the one he slipped on his finger whenever he was at a particularly difficult trial. 

So many “what if’s.” None of them would materialize. Once again, his efforts would fall short. Once again, he’d lose someone. 

The tea was hot. It burned his tongue, yet he couldn’t feel a thing. You, the clearest of springs and purest of waters, had set his own sea into a never-ending storm. Lightning struck and its own surface churned choppily with enough rage to devour a nation. The second tea cup that was on the other side of his office desk remained untouched, the contents slowly cooling into nothingness. A something that could never be.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry~” He could hear it when he shut his eyes for what he hoped to be the final time, your voice from the mist that shrouded his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to embrace the owner of it. How could he possibly heed your words, when he felt his tears slip past his eyes, flowing as unperturbed as a river? Your back is facing him, but you know he’s there. You glance back with a fond beam, extending your arms outwards. An invitation. One that he’d readily take, any time, every time.

He would never enable you to slip from his grasp again. He allows you to engulf him in your arms, he allows you to stroke your thumb on his face and wipe away his salty tears, he allows you to brush his hair behind his ear and press butterfly kisses into his closed eyelids. Your warmth floods his body, and with a smile he takes the ring he’s saved for you out of his pocket, and fulfills his regrets as he slips it onto your finger, a final tear rolling down his cheek. “There’ll be no more reason to cry, not anymore.”

(a/n) this further proved to me that writing angst is so fucking mind destroying but at the same time provides this sort of quiet sorrow that you aren't able to attain anywhere else and for some twisted reason this is literally one of my favorite things ive like. ever written. holy shiiiii

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

[repulsiveliquidation]

Alone || Leah Williamson

warnings : mentions of bullying, death, loneliness, rude namecalling. smut is at the end but i promise there is a happy ending. words in bold are from a poem above, but i can't remember who wrote it!

I like being alone was something that you always convinced yourself of growing up. Dad was always high on some binge drinking spree with his equally deadbeat friends and Mum tried her best to be a parent but with a useless father and barely any money coming in, you quickly learned how to keep yourself occupied and take care of yourself.

One day, the police showed up at your door and knocked. Mum stopped folding the laundry and you poked your head in just in time to hear the officers tell your mother that your father had tried to rob the local liquor store and was shot by the police who arrived on the scene. Having been ostracized from the community long ago due to your father’s behavior, the news of his death only increased the cold shoulder you and your mother got from the town.

Parents in your hometown seemed to teach their children bad manners from a young age; all the kids in school knew to stay away from you. No one sat with you at lunch, no one ever wanted you on their team for PE. God forbid you were paired up together for a group project, no one ever wanted your company.

Secondary school was rinse and repeat. No one sat with you at lunch, no one ever wanted you on their team for the science fair. Once, you were assigned the popular girl for the English project which was 25 percent of the class grade.

“You’re doing the whole thing yourself and you better not screw with my portion of the project, you got that you freak?” Megan warned, having cornered you in the girls’ changing room after class.

“I’d watch that tone if I were you, Meg,” came a voice from the end of the showers where you were cowering.

“Stay out of it Williamson or I’ll sock you!”

“I think you’re the only one about to leave here with a black eye Meg so I’d watch your tone.”

“You’re not defending the freak are you?”

“I’m doing what’s right, I’ve had it to here with your snarky attitude,” Leah challenged, grabbing the bully’s arm and pulling her away from you. “Leave her alone.”

“Fuck you, Williamson! Everyone will know you like the freak!”

“Call her that one more time and I’ll tattoo it across your forehead!”

Megan leaves the changing room with a loud huff and you hide yourself more in the shower cubicle. You’d never interacted with Leah Williamson before. You knew to stay far away from the popular girls and the captain of the girls’ football team was one of them.

Leah smiles kindly and reaches a hand out for you. You don’t take it immediately, half expecting her to make fun of you and demand you do her homework for her. Leah realizes this and shakes her head a little, sitting on the floor with you. You’re about to ask her to leave when she opens her mouth first.

“I’m sorry about her and all of them. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I’m used to it,” you mumble, pulling your legs to your chest and hugging them.

“I’m Leah.”

“I know who you are,” you answer quickly, pushing yourself up to your feet. “You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me,” you say just as the tears threaten to fall. You do not need Leah to see them, it’ll give her one more thing to tell everyone about.

You grab your torn backpack and rush out of the changing room before she can answer you.

Leah stands there a little hurt, her efforts of extending an olive branch failing only motivate her more. She knew about the whole scandal or whatever it was that happened all those years ago but learned at a very young age that Amanda hated it all.

“You treat that family with the same respect you give everyone else, Leah you understand? No one deserves such unkind neighbors.”

You do not know what compelled you to sit in the stands of Leah’s football game against a rival school. There was a ticket in your locker with a note hoping to see you there. Thinking it was a prank, you wanted to throw it away but decided against it, which meant that the cloudy England sky and shitty concession food was your plan for the afternoon.

“Hi, you got my ticket!”

You had your eyes glued to your phone, your hat pulled down over your eyes to block out the stares you normally got. But that familiar thick local accented voice rang loud in front of you, you looked up to see Leah grinning at you with her mother Amanda right behind her.

“You put the ticket in my locker?” you asked sheepishly, watching as Amanda sat next to you.

“Yes darling, her father couldn’t make it and she didn’t waste it so she wanted to give it to you.”

You look up at Leah and her grin is almost brighter than it was before. She was all dressed and ready for the game, hand reaching out to pat your head before running back onto the pitch.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I hope you stay the whole game!” she yelled out, jogging towards the rest of her teammates.

“She didn’t have to give me the ticket,” you mumble under your breath. More people are staring now, you could feel it. Amanda reached around your shoulders and rubbed your back, smiling down at you.

“No, but she insisted.”

Leah was relentless in her pursuit of you. There were more notes in your locker that were not malicious. They were written in the same writing as the first letter that had a football ticket in it, always signed LW.

Soon the letters became more personalized and directly from Leah. People talked a lot in this town and word got out fast that Leah was making friends with the freak. She didn’t seem fazed, the teasing she could endure; the bullying you normally received almost doubled overnight.

Ever since Leah started giving you the letters in person, all the people who had crushes on her had increased their hatred of you.

You were walking home after one of Leah’s games, headphones in and head down like always. You didn’t see them coming for you and didn’t hear them either. Megan and her girls had followed you the whole way until you turned into a dark alley; it was a shortcut to your house and you’ve never seen anyone else use it before.

Carla pulled your hair first. You turned and before you could defend yourself, Megan slapped you across the face. Alice tripped you as you tried to run away, slipping face-first into a muddy puddle left by the rain that morning. Rebecca, the ring leader, grabs your shoulder and turns you around, eyes seething with anger.

“I have wanted Leah Williamson for a very long time, you pathetic little bitch. What the fuck did you do to her in that bathroom that day when Megan was beating sense into your stupid brain huh?”

“Being a bully isn’t a quality I look for in a girl, Becca.”

Leah stands there with her kit still on and her hair sticking to her forehead. Her hands on her hips and chest heaving suggest she ran all the way here. She looks down at you before stepping towards you and reaching a hand out to you. You take it this time and she pulls you up and into a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asks, brushing your hair out of your face. You nod and she cups your cheek, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone that was slightly red from Megan’s slap earlier.

“What did I say about testing my patience, Rebecca?”

“Leah, she’s the town freak! What could you possibly see in her?”

“Everything I don’t see in you, Becca. What would your mother say if I let it slip over tea next week that her precious girl is a sly little liar? She doesn’t need to know about your little stunt with the principal I walked in on last week now does she?”  

“Don’t you dare!”

“Then you leave her alone,” Leah sternly warns, eyes shooting daggers at the fleeing girls.

“Come on, I’ll take you home. I saw them coming for you after the game and I followed them. I’m glad I found you in time!”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I think you know I like you a lot more than you’re letting yourself believe.”

“Why me, Leah?”

She takes your hand and walks towards the main road with you. You see Amanda in the car waiting, shaking her head at the two of you.

“Are you okay, love?” she asks you as you climb into the backseat with Leah. She hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time, rubbing the back of your palm with her thumb gently. You like the feeling of her hot skin on yours, it’s such a simple comfort and you can’t even remember the last time you felt it.

“Yes, Mrs. Williamson. Leah got me in time.”

“Please dear, I’ve told you to call me Amanda.”

“Mum, can she stay over tonight?” Leah chirps, holding your hand tighter. You blush a little, looking at her with a single thought in your head; you deserve to allow yourself a little bit of love.

“My mum is okay with it, I can stay.”

“Great! I’ve put a set of clean clothes in the bathroom for you too so…”

“Thank you, Leah,” you say quietly, eyes avoiding her piercing blue ones.

“Of course.”

The whole night goes by perfectly. Amanda cooks a delicious meal that you shamelessly have three servings of. Since it was a Friday night, Leah insisted on movie night. There were throw blankets and pillows all over the floor but you were hesitant to cuddle close to Leah. Having not made a single friend in years, you were scared that one wrong move could ruin the little bit of joy Leah had given you in such a short period.

Leah however, could not hold herself back anymore and was honestly quite annoyed at you. She had been showing her affection towards you for weeks and you were still hesitant to reciprocate them.

“You don’t like me back, do you? You’re just doing this to be nice.”

You look at Leah in horror. No, no, no! This was not how it was supposed to go.

“Leah,” you start, sitting up. “No one has ever wanted to be my friend my entire life. I have my useless dead father to thank for that. When you started giving me those letters, I genuinely thought you were planning some long term practical joke but tonight you’ve shown me that you truly want to be my friend, maybe more.” Leah sits up too and you continue.

“I’m scared, I haven’t done this in a long time. I don’t want to make a wrong move and scare you away. I want you so bad, if everything you’ve left in your letters is true then I want this, I want us. When you scored that goal last week when you rarely do, you looked at me. You did a hand heart towards me and I genuinely thought you were showing it to someone else in the crowd but you pointed at me.”

Leah had tears in her eyes, the tough captain of the school girls’ football team seemed moved by your words. She leaned in and you let her, pressing your lips to hers. You were sure you felt fireworks and that she did too. Her lips were soft and she loved that you smelled like her body wash.

You pulled away and blinked fast, hoping that she wasn’t a figment of your imagination. By the time you’d blinked about fifty times, she was still there, her stupid smug smile on her face.

“I really like you,” you tell her, head leaning on her shoulder as you turn your attention back to the TV.

“I really like you too,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she pulls you into her side.

In the days that come, Leah warned all those who regularly mess with you that they now mess with her too. She also warned that if she caught wind of people calling you names, especially freak, they would go home with it etched across their faces.

\\

You’re sat at the dinner table with Leah in your home years later. Grace is sitting on her playmat, totally engrossed in her building blocks. The sunset pours into the living room and you’ve never been happier in your life.

There’s nothing in your life you’d want to change. You thank your lucky stars that the Lioness sitting in front of you took a chance on you that year in secondary school. Life had only gone up since getting together at 17. You went to college and Leah played for Arsenal. It was hard when you moved for a year to Spain to study but Leah fought hard to make sure the connection was there, flying every other weekend to see you.

The moment you graduated, Leah proposed in front of all your friends. Yes, you made friends! The Spain host family you lived with was more than welcoming and gave you a sense of belonging that you had never felt before. The little community you built for yourself gave you a chance to heal and forgive all those people who wronged young you.

She looked up at you with a face of pure admiration. The ring glimmered in the sun, the diamond was the perfect carat for her perfect girl.

“I have never been surer of anything in my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

\\

You’re both standing at the altar, hands held in front of all your friends and family. The Arsenal and Lioness girls are rowdy in the front, cheering their captain on. She had just shared her vows and it was now your turn.

“When I was little, I convinced myself that I liked being alone. I was always the last to be picked, last to be called, sometimes the teachers forgot about me. By the time I was in secondary school, I had accepted that I was going to be alone all my life. Until I met you,” you look up at Leah and see that she’s already got tears in her eyes. You continue, feeling a little emotional yourself.

“I was sure that you were playing a prank on me, wanting nothing more than to humiliate me in front of everyone like they always did. I waited and waited and nothing happened. You saved me from those girls that day and in the car ride home I knew you were different. For the first time ever, I wanted your company more than my own.”

//

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“Never, babygirl,” Leah coos, hands gripping your hips from behind as she fucks into your pussy hard. You whine into the mattress and grip the sheets, pushing your ass back into her hips. She angled her hips just right, hitting your sweet spot just enough to send you right off the edge.

“Leah!” you cried, reaching back to hold her strong thigh. She was relentless, pounding you through your orgasm. She flipped you over a minute later, her strap pushed back into your sensitive hole just milliseconds after pulling out. You’re about to squeal about being sensitive when she wraps her hand around your neck so lightly. It’s barely there but her skin on yours sends electric shocks through your system.

You buck up into her and bite your lip, forcing her cock straight into your pussy. She gives you that smug smirk that boils your blood and gets to work, rutting into you with purpose. Her hands knead your breasts religiously, face buried between them in an instant. You cradle her head that rests on you, legs widening for her subconsciously.

Your body submits to her willingly and you can barely think when the hand around your neck gently tightens. Your eyes roll into your head and you grin deliriously, oxygen leaving your head as quickly as it gets there.  

Her hips, although practically laying on you, do not relent, pounding into your pussy obediently. Her harness rubs your clit just right and you can barely make a sound to warn her before you gush all over her cock and your thighs. She squeezes your neck just a little harder than usual and it sends you straight into another orgasm right after the other.

She only slows down when you’re shaking like a leaf and turning a little pale, kissing you gently. You grin and reach out for her, she pulls her harness off and settles between your legs. You pat her head and kiss her forehead, fingers running through her blond hair. She presses kisses all over your neck and you sigh, grateful for the chance at a proper life the woman in your arms had given you.

“I love you, Leah,” you mumble into her hair and you feel the captain mumble her answer into your neck. You giggle and settle into the warm bed with the love of your life, excited to see what life has in store for the two of you.

[tac-the-unseen]

JUST READ THE COD GANG REACTING TO READER FALING AN ORGASM SO WHAT IF READER ADMITS THEY NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE?????? LIKE- NEW RELATIONSHIP??????? SORRY FOR CAPS IM ECSTATIC RN BC UR WORK IS SO GOOD🫶🫶🫶🫶🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

COD characters finding out that Reader's past lover(s) have never given them an Orgasm.

Am I exactly sure what Anon is asking? No, But I will persist.

I'm choosing to write this with the interpretation of Reader never having an orgasm even though they've had sex with others. (The other way I read it was that Reader just flat out never had an orgasm before, and I think that's extremely unrealistic. So we're going with that one) ALSO because of the prompt You and the guys have yet to bump uglies!

Ghost:

•Simon is a little confused "Like...None of them?"

•He takes it very seriously

•He asks you to elaborate a little more. He just wants to know if the other guys sucked (or just didn't in this case) or if you two needed to do something specific in order to please you.

•He understands if you need some kind of accommodations and will ask you what he needs to do

•You and Simon have a long discussion over what you want your first time with him to be like. He makes sure you both have a clear understanding of what's to come (ha).

Soap:

•First thing he says is “Would you like to?”

•He thinks it's a little funny but really sad too

•”Darling, you're too pretty to let subpar men just use you.”

•He immediately wants to show you how it's done and what you've been robbed off

•He asks if he can take you for a “good ol' mustache ride”

Price:

•”Young men are dumb.” He says and takes a drag from his cigar

•”But I guess it's nice to know I have no competition.” He smiles

•He does talk to you about your needs and what he needs to do to meet them properly

•He takes you out on a nice dinner date, goes on a nice walk with you, and end up with his hands wrapped around your waist taking you home

Alejandro:

•Can not stop laughing

•As soon as you tell him he erupts into a fit of giggles. He takes him a full 3 minutes before he calms down enough to hug you and pat you back.

•”You poor thing.” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I'll make sure to make up for all their failures, Mi querida.”

•He’ll ask you what they were doing down there the whole time. Which leads to even more laughter when you tell him.

•”But I think I should buy you a nice dinner first.” he winks

Roach:

•Stunned

•Absolutely floored

•”Like never?” He signs. You can see the horror in his eyes

•He’s got his head in hands, contemplating life. He's so concerned for you. He has to take a moment of silence to comprehend the level of incompetence the men in your life must have had.

•When he finally sits up he looks you directly in the eyes and signs “Thank God I'm good with my hands.”

Gaz:

•Slowly turns his head to look at you with his brows furrowed and confusion

•Is too shock to speak

•He gets up to pour himself some Scotch

•”How many times have you had to fake an orgasm?” “8” he proceeds to down the entire drink and pour himself another

•This time he hands it to you “You need this more than me.”

Rudy:

•He gets up and takes a lap around the house

•When he gets back he pulls you into a hug

•”You deserve so much better, Mi Tesoro.”

•Kisses your jaw and runs his hands down your back. “I can give you so much better.” He tells you in-between kisses

•He offers you himself until your properly satisfied, for however long that takes

König:

•”Why do you like incompetent men?”

•He means it in a genuine way, But he accidentally reads you to filth.

•”Why spend your time and affection on someone who cannot please you?” he asks. “I didn't want to seem shallow.” You replied. “Shallow? Liebste, No.”

•He practically scolds you for allowing such men into your life. It's actually the most you've ever heard him speak. Which really tells you how upset he is.

•”You're Lucky I'm here. I will not let such things happen ever again.”

•And fuuuck, he means it

Mace:

•”Other men are filthy animals.” he tells you like it was a normal thing to say

•He gets in close to you and rests his arms on your hips. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm a man whore.” He laughs lightly and kisses you “But you knew that.”

•He asks you for all the funny details and thinks it would make a decent bonding experience.

•He tells you about his less than great sex stories and failures

•”Rest assured sweetheart, I'm a pro at making people scream.”

Thanks for reading <3

(I realize now that I wrote them all in different mindsets of this prompt... Good luck with that, I guess)

[rainystarters]

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.

dialogue :

are you sure you want to marry him?

oh! how you must want me!

soon.

i had never been vain until i met you.

anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.

all the better to see you.

what is that key? the key to your heart?

every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.

all is yours, everywhere is open to you.

but now... what shall i do now?

my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.

there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

you are in some great distress.

any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.

oh god. i can smell the blood.

i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!

can't it wait until morning, my darling?

who can say what i deserve or no?

i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.

i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.

good fellow? i am no good fellow.

forgive me for robbing your garden!

all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.

and what else was there to be done?

they are the death of any tender herbivore.

so late! you will want sleep.

you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.

i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.

i am sick and i must die.

if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.

i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.

i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.

if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.

for all my pride, my heart is heavy.

if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.

i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.

you are a woman of honor.

nothing human lives here.

we have dispensed with servants.

take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?

all cats are cynics.

you read my thoughts, my love.

the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.

all will fall still, all lapse.

it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.

i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.

there are some eyes can eat you.

sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.

eat me, drink me.

dive in and fetch it for me.

now you are at the place of annihilation.

and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.

can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?

beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.

a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.

be he alive or be he dead.

coffee. you must have coffee.

welcome. welcome to my chateau.

i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.

this place is so lonely.

now the village is deserted.

often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.

i must apologize for the lack of light.

you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.

i am condemned to solitude and dark.

i do not mean to hurt you.

i will be very gentle.

and could love free me from the shadows?

i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.

you will feel no pain, my darling.

so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.

the end of exile is the end of being.

it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.

the devil is as real as you or i.

do not leave the path.

you are always in danger in the forest.

they are as unkind as plague.

fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.

besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?

actions :

clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.

opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.

choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.

carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.

spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.

cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.

ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.

keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.

harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.

lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.

call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.

note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.

death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.

hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.

servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.

hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.

hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.

bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.

reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.

bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.

voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.

powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.

stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.

weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.

dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.

flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.

prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.

song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.

caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.

green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.

tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.

stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.

wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.

thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.

china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.

blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.

wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.

muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Obsessed (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Summary: Joe discovers your obsession with him

Warnings: obsessive behavior from the reader, mentioned threats/violence, stalking, breaking and entering, the reader has massive yandere vibes, the reader is a creep/pervert, interrupted masturbation session, Joe is pretty complacent to this once he finds out, implied smut at the end

A/N: the original idea for this came from this post by the amazing @samcvrpenters that I decided to expand on a little. thank you so much for giving me the permission to turn your idea into a full fic <33

Joe was perfect. He was, really. He was charming, attractive, had a good sense of humor: all of which were traits that led him to be the perfect guy. In your opinion, anyway.

You wouldn't say you were obsessed with him. That was an awfully strong word. Though you did tend to care about him more than anyone else in your life, and you thought about him every second of every day, and there was the teensy tiny shrine you had dedicated to him tucked away in your closet where no one would see-

Okay, yeah, maybe you were a little obsessed. But who could blame you, really? Guys in general sucked at best and deserved jail time at worst, and that was putting it lightly. But Joe? He was perfect.

Okay, maybe not one hundred percent perfect. He did have a few small character flaws, but they were minor things that you were able to look over pretty easily.

Such as leaving the door to his apartment unlocked sometimes when he left out. I mean, seriously, he lived in New York of all places. If anyone was going to try to rob a person, it would be there.

You forgave him, though. You were aware he probably had other things on his mind, what with having to manage a bookstore entirely by himself (you didn't count Ethan) and making sure Paco was okay.

There was also the girl he'd been talking to that had ghosted him, but that wasn't nearly as important as anything else (you threatened her with a slit throat if she didn't back off). What? You were just looking out for him. He was yours, even if he didn't realize it yet. You knew it, and that was enough for the both of you. It was one of the reasons why you were so determined to not let anybody tear you apart.

No one could love him the same way you could, you were quite certain. No one could appreciate him like you did. Which is obviously why you trailed after him wherever he went like a lost puppy, though you of course didn't make him aware that he had his very own living shadow.

You didn't want to freak him out. After all, you were well aware of what it would look like if he found out you were stalking him. (Though you hated using that word to refer to your situation. Stalking made it sound so bad, so dirty. You were simply looking out for him, is all).

Just like you were looking out for him whenever you snuck into his place. Although sneaking might not be the best word because, again, he had a tendency to leave the door unlocked.

So what if you went in there when he was gone on occasion and took a few things? It's not like he'd notice a missing shirt or pair of boxers. Or three.

Hey, at least you washed them before returning them. You hoped the smell of the laundry detergent you used would remind him of you just enough without giving away it was you that had washed his clothes.

For the most part, you were pretty clever, always making sure you knew where Joe was before heading over to his apartment to poke around at stuff and making sure to wear a hat and discreet jacket whenever you tailed after him. One way you were not clever, though, was when it came to your feelings. That was how he ended up finding you out.

He'd left early that morning just like usual for Mooney's, which gave you the chance to enter his apartment once he was gone. Technically you really didn't need to break in since you had a key (you were his best friend, after all) but it was hard to imagine that he'd be thrilled upon finding you in his apartment when he was gone, snooping around for no reason.

Everything seemed pretty ordinary, and you were just about to leave when you saw a pair of boxers laying on the floor next to the bed. His boxers.

You quickly glanced around despite no one being there and debated on whether or not you'd have the time to take them over to your place for a quick private session before bringing them back. Nah, you couldn't do that, it was far too risky, you decided even while picking them up, your hands practically trembling with excitement. God, you were such a mess when it came to him and his clothing.

Flopping down on the bed, you held the boxers up to your face and inhaled deeply. They smelled just like you'd imagined that he would. Still clutching the boxers with one hand, you moved the other down your body to the front of your pants. Maybe if you were quick, you could rub one out and be gone before anyone even realized it.

Of course it was at that same moment when Joe himself was walking back up the stairs to his apartment building, having left behind a book that needed to be restored back at his place. All he needed to do was grab it and then he could leave, no problem.

Except it was a problem, because you were already in there, about to masturbate with his underwear.

He paused just outside his apartment, noticing immediately the door was cracked. Had he left it like that? No, there's no way. He locked up before he left, he made sure of it.

A low moan was pulled from you as you rubbed and touched yourself, which just so happened to be the very first thing he heard when he walked in. "Joe..." You whimpered out his name in complete and utter bliss, your head tilted back against the pillows as you shut your eyes, though they quickly shot open again when you heard someone clearing their throat.

"What are you doing?" He asked while averting his gaze, feeling flustered and confused (and a little aroused, if we're being completely honest here). "And are those my boxers?"

This isn't what it looks like, is what you so desperately wanted to say, but you knew he'd never believe that. You needed something that could save this, so what did you do? You admitted your feelings to him.

"I love you," is what you blurted out instead, quickly pulling your hand out from your pants as you moved to hide the boxers behind your back. "I was- I just came over to check on things, and I saw you'd left some dirty clothes on the floor, and I was about to pick them up for you."

That excuse was so unbelievably stupid, you knew he'd never go for it. Luckily for you, he only seemed to catch one part of what you'd said.

"You... You love me?" He questioned in quiet disbelief, his big doe eyes gazing at you with a mixture of affection and longing. He was so pitiful looking, it was cute.

Swallowing thickly, you stood, discreetly dropping the boxers on the floor behind you and kicking them away as you spoke. "Of course I love you, Joe. You're my best friend in the entire world, and you mean everything to me."

He knew it was wrong, that he should panic, scream, kick you out and say he never wanted to see you again- but he couldn't. Because the truth was, he loved you, too.

Before you could respond, he pulled you in for a passionate and loving kiss, one that seemed to reassure you that he wasn't weirded out or offended or mad. You could feel yourself instantly melting into his touch, your hands cupping his face as your lips moved against one another in perfect harmony. If you could kiss him forever, you would.

Eventually you were forced to pull away for air, both of you panting heavily as you rested your forehead against his. "Are you the one who's been stealing all my clothes?" He asked suddenly, something that made you let out a snort of laughter in response.

"Maybe. I always washed them before returning them, though, so don't worry," you playfully replied as your arms moved to wrap around his neck.

"Well, that's good at least." He kissed you again before adding, "Care to enlighten me on just what you were doing before I came in?"

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that already," you purred in a sultry voice, a squeal of delight escaping from you when he suddenly picked you up and carried you over to the bed.

"Maybe you can show me then," he muttered in response, his voice low and seductive. Had you realized things would turn out this well, you would've admitted your love for him ages ago.

It was crazy how this all happened because of your more unsavory habits being revealed before the one person you were trying to keep them from. Him immediately accepting your love with open arms rather than feeling violated or being creeped out only proved to you one thing: that he needed you as much as you did him.

And once this had been confirmed for you in the flesh, there was no way he'd ever be left alone or let out of your sight ever again. You needed to have your eyes on him at all times, if only for your personal peace.

Besides, who could really blame you for wanting to keep him all to yourself? He was perfect, and you were obsessed after all, far more than you'd ever admit.

End notes: I really hope this was worth the wait 🫶

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[dream-with-a-fever]

harry potter movies and how accurately they portrayed the character of ginevra molly weasley

philosopher’s stone: 8/10 book accuracy bc my girl is barely in this movie but she nailed that 2 seconds of screen time in her cute little pastel coloured outfit! but lost points bc we didn’t get to see her again at the end nor did we see the twins promising to send her a hogwarts toilet seat (comedy GOLD i tell you)

chamber of secrets: 7/10 because yes we got to see a few cute moments where ginny got to shine (like ‘leave him alone!’ ate that) but would’ve loved to see her trying to tell harry about the diary and the running joke about percy and his new girlfriend, and where was the singing valentine???? c’mon??? everyone sing it with me ‘his eyes are as green-’ ALSO when she’s sobbing at the end about how she’ll having to leave hogwarts and she’s just this tiny scared little girl and i just want to hug her like we deserved those scenes!!:!:! and harry not telling anyone the details of what happened to protect her (bc he worries she’ll be blamed entirely for the incident like he’s too pure i swear????)

prisoner of azkaban: 8/10 as ginny is not really featured much in this book at All but was still bummed we didn’t get that scene on the train when she accidentally sits on harry’s lap and we see that she is the only other person as badly affected by the dementors as harry

goblet of fire: 11/10 book ginny energy is STRONGGG in this film even tho she’s barely present in the book! her snarky comments and attitude was Perfect but still bummed we didn’t see the scene where ron almost gets her to go with harry to the yule ball and she refuses (like the angel she is) and sticks w neville

order of the phoenix: 1.5/10 honestly that might even be too high bc literally WHERE WAS SHE??? she gets a couple points for the reducto curse moment but that’s about it. no hint of personality, still openly crushing on harry (even tho she has a boyfriend and is able to be herself around harry now HELLO this was major character development) no ‘lucky you’ scene, no library scene, no ginny stepping in to play seeker for harry and WINNING, no bickering at the DoM, no impressions of umbridge, no joking around with her brothers and harry, like we were ROBBED

half-blood prince: -100/10 because what the FUCK? shoelaces? hidden random kiss in the RoR? zero interactions and suddenly harry is In Love? ginny saying about 5 words in the entire film? ginny is the LIFE of this book, harry spends page after page obsessing over her, where’s them playing quiddich at the burrow, joking around after practise, ginny crashing into the commentator’s booth, ginny defending harry about the potions book, harry KISSING her in front of the entire common room after SHE won the quidditch cup playing his position because his dumbass got detention like?,!:?! harry wanting to save his liquid luck to have a chance with ginny?? ginny and ron’s big argument? harry and ginny’s break up after dumbledore’s funeral?? instead we got ginny being a mute with zero personality, who feeds harry christmas pies, wouldn’t know a joke if it hit her in the face and initiates everything despite harry being the one making the moves in the book?!??!??! just abhorrent. ginny weasley i am so sorry for what they did for her.

deathly hallows part 1: -45/10 okay ginny was done so dirty, ginny kissing harry as a birthday present, like a GOODBYE kiss??? as a i-don’t-know-if-i’ll-ever-see-you-again-but-please-know-that-i-love-you kiss???? harry calling ginny the most real thing in the world? ron snapping at harry for leading ginny on? harry almost accidentally telling ginny his plans for hunting voldemort bc he always lets his guard down around her? harry getting jealous when krum shows interest in ginny at the wedding? harry staring at her dot on the marauders map and making sure she’s safe????? instead we got.. an awkward kitchen kiss with george present (um?), zero interaction at the wedding, neville standing up to deatheaters on the train but ginny sitting pretty next to him and saying nothing when SHE WAS LEADING THE DAMN RESISTANCE???????:?:?:?: give me a fuckin break

deathly hallows part 2: -75/100 so! much! wrong! with her portrayal in this film. not to mention she’s barely in it, but when harry comes back to hogwarts, they have that one moment where they stare at each other and that’s it???? that’s all we get?? the rushed kiss on the staircase was lowkey cute but without all the build up from previous films it was just like..? ok? in the book we get ginny pushing to stay and fight and no one can convince her to do it, except harry. he’s the only one she listens to. we get harry saying ginny has somehow gotten more beautiful since he’s last seen her? we get jealous ginny when cho offers to show harry the diadem? we get harry walking to his death and seeing ginny crouched over an injured child, trying to calm the girl down despite her own world having fallen apart and one of her brothers already being dead, we get harry nearly changing course and going for bellatrix instead of voldemort when he sees ginny in trouble? also the entire epilogue??? basically cut… like that scene was so wholesome and funny, and getting to see harry and ginny as this family unit was so nice?? a ROBBERY i’m telling you.

[searchingforglendowerwithleah]

The Raven Boys Rizz Ranked

6. That one cray guy who tried to seduce his crush by kidnapping his crushes little brother and stuffing him into a car which is suprisingly not effective. Heard he died which is kinda awkies.

5. In almost dead last is ironically everyone’s favourite evader of death. You guessed right! Gansey boy!!! Reading through his first interaction with Blue was so painful I almost permanently died. However, credit were credit is due because he did somehow get with her at the end but he is just lucky Blue is deadsexual.

4. Ronan - bless his heart he tried but fuck is he embarrassing to watch sometimes. I’m not even going to detail all of the second hand embarrassment I had watching him flirt. But hey at least he didn’t call his crush a prostitute and then try and set them up with his bestie because of his saviour complex and crippling lack of self worth. Also his lil gifts were so sweet like A+ for effort.

3. The bisexual king himself Adam Parrish who could pull anybody in Henrietta with complete and utter ease. His only downfall is being kinda creepy being possessed by a forest and all but you know what some people find that hot (not me of course …). ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT ADAM IN A LEATHER JACKET BECAUSE WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THAT ENOUGH. Also you know the line in call down the hawk where he was like I need to take off your clothes!!! Damn he is kind of being robbed at 3rd.

2. My husband and everyone’s favourite man whore DECLAN TADHG LYNCH. My boy pulled 3 Ashley’s is a row and the goddess that is Jordan and he had me giggling at every single turn. Nothing is more seductive than a plain white guy with stomach issues and an art kink. Everyone hated you because they weren’t you and that’s why all of the bitches who slut shamed him *cough*Gansey*cough*Adam*cough*Ronan *cough* are ranked lower than him. Also his murder spree in Greywaren is the sexiest scene ever written, you cannot argue me on this. PSA: before anyone comes with for me for putting him above Adam just remember there is textual evidence of Adam literally learning to flirt off of Declan after observing him in trb. HE WAS THE TRENDSETTER.

1. Noah - Sometimes being creepy and dead can have it’s benefits. He saw his opportunity to kiss Blue and he fucking ran with it. He really said I know someone you could kiss 🤭 and I admire that confidence which I firmly believe makes him extremely deserving of 1st place. The ability to pull bitches whilst literally decomposing is quite frankly unbeatable.

[joudama]

And that’s that for Veilguard. Got all the achievements and got the four main possible endings (didn’t bother with the bad ending where you do none of the side quests, everyone dies, and you end up trapped in the Fade forever with Solas).

My four Rooks:

Female Shadow Dragon elf mage - saved Minrathous - romanced Harding - punched Solas in the face

Female Antivan Crow human rogue - saved Treviso - romanced Lucanis - tricked Solas into using the fake dagger

Male Grey Warden dwarf warrior (this was originally going be a Qunari, but I couldn’t get over the yassified look of all the qunari I tried to make and I gave up) - saved Treviso - romanced Davrin (meant to romance Bellara and lol welp, that didn’t happen) - big softie who sent Solas into the Fade with the Inquisitor

Male Mourn Watch elf mage - saved Minrathous - romanced Emmrich (meant to romance Bellara or Neve and lol welp, that didn’t happen) - told the Inquisitor she could do better and made Solas go off into the Fade alone.

My Mourn Watch one is probably going to be my “canon” run, since I liked it the best (that’s not saying much) of my runs. I went with a life leeching run for him, including using the unique items that made health potions/companion heals not work, and beefed up leeching. Literally the only time I died was when my controller ran out of juice in the middle of a dragon fight. The Elgar’nan fight was over so fast I was like, “Wait, is that it?” It was like the curb stomp fight in Inquisition with Corypheus before they let you have enemies scale up with you.

And now for my thoughts. And oh boy, do I have a lot of them. Hoo.

I have…so many issues with this game. It is a very good…whatever the gaming equivalent of a popcorn flick is. It’s great if you go in with your brain turned off and enjoy all the shiny. But that’s not what I want in a Dragon Age game. I’ve been replaying DA2 - the game that DATV is basically trying to channel - while playing these, and the difference in writing quality and intricacy of plot and world building could not be more sharp. The first time I played DATV, I thought it was fine. Almost aggressively fine. I had fun with streaming the game and seeing where it went. I loved the reveals with the wolf statues. I had some major issues with the writing being as subtle as a brick to the face at times (more on my thoughts about the dialogue LATER, because oh boy), but it was serviceable. And I genuinely thought Veilguard had been robbed by not being nominated for Art Direction at the Game Awards, because say what you will, the areas are fucking gorgeous. But, even then, I was like, “Yeah, this would not have deserved a GOTY nomination had it gotten one,” and placed it at a 7 or 8 out of 10. A good enough, enjoyable game that ran well, but was not by any means GOTY material.

Then I made the mistake of playing it again, and the cracks began to show. By the time I hit the middle of Act 2 of my third run, I was just so done. I hated every time certain companions had anything to say at all. I hated that you couldn’t call people out for being a jerk but had to be the supportive nursery school teacher at all times to them. And for the first time playing any BioWare game at all, I found myself wishing I could either not recruit certain people or kick them out of camp. The cracks were beyond showing at that point, and I no longer thought the writing was even “serviceable.” Things that hadn’t seemed so bad on that first popcorn flick run suddenly became a problem - not being able to actually talk to your companions to get to know them went from “it feels more natural to have them saying this stuff while out in the field” to “what is even the point of going around the Lighthouse if all it gets me is a line spoken at me or overhearing bits of them having ACTUAL conversations?” It legitimately hurt replayability. I missed being able to actually talk to my companions, and I realized I cared more about Manfred and Assan than most of my companions because Manfred and Assan actually seemed to like interacting with me. I will take Manfred’s rock-paper-scissors game over a “hey Rook” and dead-eyed stare.

By the time I hit late act 2, I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could delete the damn game off my hard drive…only for the last achievement I had yet to get to NOT pop when I finished the game. I looked it up and discovered it wasn’t set by triggering a certain end state, but was tied to picking some flowers in Act 2, and wanted to cry. I don’t usually 100% games, especially if I feel like some of the achievements are bullshit I don’t want to do (‘sup, MELE needing you to do some Armax Arena Spectre-level fight - I would sooner chew off my own arm than do that, as anyone who watched me stream Veilguard would have guessed watching me kvetching the whole time I was doing that Hall of Valor shit), but that was just frustrating. I decided to try to get it on a fresh run as a Mourn Watcher, since I’d heard that was one of the surprisingly good faction backgrounds, and that was a good choice. Mourn Watch became my favorite faction, when it had been Shadow Dragons until then. It added so much to a lot more conversations than I would have thought, and made it so I actually enjoyed the sadly few times you get to actually have conversations instead of eavesdropping/being talked at. I’m glad I decided to slog through one more time for that achievement, because if I’d ended it on that third run, I know I would have never played it again. It turned back into a popcorn movie again, aided by me knowing when to put on a YouTube video and watch or scroll through Bluesky instead of listening to a certain character be the fucking worst. If I ever play again, it’ll be a Mourn Watcher (I already know the Veil Jumpers and Lords of Fortune are considered, shall we say, lackluster background factions.)

Which brings me to some of the big, fundamental problems this game had.

This is not a CRPG. It’s just not. It’s an action RPG now, with the focus on “action” not “RPG.” It’s part of the whole Mass Effect-ification of Dragon Age. And I say this as a huge Mass Effect fan:

Dragon Age should not be like Mass Effect. And vice versa.

When Andromeda came out, they decided to ditch the Paragon/Renegade system, and instead went for DAI-style emotion-based options. Which seems great! More speech choices to make a more nuanced Ryder instead of picking up or down! Great! Only no! A lot of people hated it because it didn’t feel like Mass Effect. They had taken away something that had seemed like a major part of how you roll played in the series, and replaced it something very different. It was the first time they took a mechanic from one game and ported it into another, and it didn’t really go over well with a lot of ME fans because it didn’t feel like a Mass Effect mechanic.

And now with Veilguard, they basically made a Mass Effect game with a Dragon Age skin on it. And it just doesn’t work.

Combat: They copied the combat wheel from Mass Effect, but did it kind of badly. I honestly hated it because I tried to play like I do in Mass Effect - pull it up, use it to look around and get a handle on my environment, then pick an enemy or a safe space to bolt to - and the camera snapping the enemies meant I couldn’t. It drove me crazy because it was like the Mass Effect wheel but fundamentally not, and the camera drove me mad because I’d pull it up trying to find where the nearest blight boil was, and it would snap on enemies instead of just letting me look. It’s like they wanted to get rid of every little bit of tactical game play and replace with smashy smashy bang bang instead. Don’t think, don’t plan, just attack…which fits in with the popcorn flick-ness of DATV. Don’t think, just do. Turn your brain off and look at the particle effects.

Another Mass Effect-ification with regards to combat is dropping from taking 3 companions to 2. Which you need to do to have that Mass Effect style combat wheel, and the Mass Effect 3/Andromeda style primer/detonation style interaction of companion powers. Detonations were very satisfying, but not very Dragon Age-y, and requires throwing out some of that DA lore to make it work, because now everyone uses magic-based abilities even if they aren’t mages. Assan attacks deal fire damage. You can spec a warrior who calls up a giant lightning hammer to twirl around, and…how? That’s not enchantment, that’s plain ol’ magic, and how?! Warriors didn’t deal magic-based attacks unless their weapons where enchanted before, but now, everyone is just tossing magic attacks at everything. That’s not how the world of Thedas has worked until now, but you can’t have those flashy explosions or particle effects otherwise, so shhh, turn off your brain and don’t think, shhh. Look at the screen light up and the pretty lights. It worked in Mass Effect because they had already set up tech and biotic attacks, but there’s no way to make hitting something hard with a sword cause it to blow up and damage all the other baddies around them, so now everyone has magic. OK.

As an aside, it was also a really bad idea of get rid of how aggro worked. Dragon Age had always worked by warriors drawing aggro because they had the heavier armor (or could use taunt on enemies targeting squishy mages or rogues). Rogues had lower aggro because they had lighter armor, and could sneak. Mages had even lower aggro because they had the lightest armor and were distance fighters. DATV threw that out the window, and Rook draws all aggro because they are the only ones with a health bar. Your squad is immortal in fights, which means there’s no reason for enemies to ever target them. Which means god help you early game when mages and rogues have no real skills yet. Enjoy dodging while your companions hit the enemies with what seems like attacks as powerful as spitballs. It also means that there are times what the game tells you and the fight you just did are completely at odds. Remember that fight with the Wrath of the Stone in Harding’s companion quest? That thing is on your ass the entire time, but then at the end of it, Rook says something along the lines of “It really hates Harding,” and…are you gaslighting me, game? That thing ignored Harding the whole damn time in favor of trying to stomp me like a cockroach. Harding did not exist to it during my fight. It had a hate boner for Rook and Rook alone, no matter what the game tried to insist on after.

Now, imagine how that would have felt if Harding actually could have been killed/knocked out during the fight, and it was only going after her? What if you couldn’t damage it if it took her down, so you had to make sure she stayed alive? Imagine how different that fight would have hit then? But no, that would mean the devs have to think about how to rez characters and how healing would work, and would mean players have to be tactical, and shh, no, no more of that, no thinking, just dodge and hit things and look at the particle effects. Shh. Have some more popcorn.

Story: DATV wants so badly to be ME2. It wants to recall the companion loyalty quests and the big suicide mission where you have to have everyone ready or you’ll all die. But you can’t copy what you did before and get the same flowers and results. You just can’t. You can try, and all you’ll get is diminishing returns. They tried to do the big cosmic horror of ME1, complete with a Virmire choice, then have the big final stakes of ME2, and no. You can’t follow a template and get the same greatness. That’s not how it works.

And speaking of following templates…

Romances: The romances in Veilguard are just dismal. And I think it’s because they decided to follow the Mass Effect pacing formula instead of the Dragon Age one.

Dragon Age: You start flirting in Act 1. You usually flirt with everyone because hey, why not? Some time in Act 2, things start getting serious, and you have to settle on who you want to go for. Things start to get serious, you get together, and then you get happy fun adult time with your new LI. You get the option to break it off or commit to them fully. By Act 3, you’re in a committed relationship. People comment about it. You can go to them and spend time with them - nothing major, maybe just a kiss. There might also be a special scene that’s just with them and unique to the romance. And by the end, after the lengthy amount of time that’s passed, you are Together.

Mass Effect: You start flirting in Act 1. You usually flirt with everyone because hey, why not? In Act 2, you keep on flirting with everyone. By the end, you might have to make a choice if you’re flirting too hard with everyone and the two LI options tell you to pick someone already, but you’re just picking who you’re interested in. Early in Act 3, there might be an almost kiss, but it’s mostly just the occasional anticipation of eventually boning and nothing really happens until right before the final big fight, when your LI shows up to your cabin for “oh shit, we might die in a few hours, so let’s go out with a high note” happy fun adult time. The only time you get that “committed relationship” vibes is in ME3 if you’re romanced the same character for at least one other game, and you choose to continue the relationship.

The Mass Effect pacing works in the Mass Effect trilogy because each game is only 20-40 hours long. Veilguard is a good 80 hours long. That means using that same amount of romance you use in ME is going to mean you’ve got too little butter to spread over too much bread. It’s why you have a good start for the romances in Act 1, then act 2 is a such a desert of nothing after you commit that I genuinely wondered if I’d hit the wrong option at said no at several points during the very long third act. There’s not just enough content for that long of an Act 2. Near the end everyone starts commenting on you being with them, but it’s not actually happening in the game. There’s no flirting, there are no extra scenes, and even the scene when you commit to them is based on a scene that happens with everyone, just with a romance option tacked on. The only person (of the ones I romanced, so I can’t speak to the others) who really get unique scenes was Emmerich. He actually takes you out on a unique date. It helped a lot to make Emmerich’s romance feel more fleshed out than the others. And Davrin had so many little jaunts out in the woods that those turned into romantic trips out, which added a lot to his. But Lucanis’ and Hardings? With both of them, like I said before, I genuinely wondered if I had accidentally opted out. Their romances most used the Mass Effect format, and it just doesn’t work for a game this long. BioWare knew that once, long ago, because Andromeda did not use the ME trilogy format for romances and was closer to one they used in DA. But DATV is trying to be ME2, so they used ME2’s very thin romances as a guide.

And we can all see how well that turned out.

The Executors: Fuck me, they feel like Cerberus reskinned, and I absolutely hated when Mass Effect shifted from sci-fi/Lovecraftian horror to space opera with Cerberus as the main bad guys you have to fight with the Reapers functionally falling to the background. The Executors are a secret, shadowy organization pulling strings from behind the scenes like the Shadow Broker codexes in ME2 retconned Cerberus into having been doing in ME. Ugh.

The Andromeda-ification of dialogue: Remember Peebee? Remember how she talked? Give her long hair and pointy ears, and she’s Bellara. Down even to the techno-babble. It’s like they’re trying to change magic to just “sufficiently advanced technology.” Everyone speaks in that modern, quippy style that was annoying in a game set hundreds of years in the future because it felt dated by the time the game came out (Ryder makes a Frozen joke, y’all). And it feels completely out of place in a game set in an early modern setting (I don’t think DA is medieval, honestly - it’s more a pre-industrialization/early scientific revoltution setting, so more 1500-1700s, and I’m gonna stop now). It was jarring. You can only let one quirky character break the rules about how people talk (Alistair in DAO, Varric in DA2, Cole in DAI) but when everyone does, it’s jarring. You can be anachronistic, but you have to know what you’re doing and how to do it when you do, and I’m sorry, but the current crop of BioWare writers don’t. They wrote the dialogue like it was a modern day YA novel, not a Dragon Age game. It would have been fine for a modern day urban fantasy game. It was not fine for a DA game set in the same time period as people using the four humours for “modern” medicine (remember the surgeon in DAI? Talked about the four humours? Yeah.)

OK, I did not intend to go on for this long, and I haven’t even gotten to what the game did to how religion is handled or the sociopolitical aspects of Thedas, and how they threw out so much that made Dragon Age unique in their urge to do a soft reboot, so I’m just going to end it here. I wanted to love this game, and I can only do that if I turn my brain off, and that’s not what Dragon Age should be.

[vidavalor]

I've had to disconnect from my dash because of all the negativity; I honestly do not get why people are acting like a semblance of justice+a movie is the worst thing in the world?

I'm mourning for the full six-episode season we lost because ng couldn't pass the utmost basic sub-zero bar for not acting like scum and of course I wish amazon had kicked him out and then sprung for it anyway (and honestly, as long as you're blaming the right person, I think it's fine to feel upset? We deserved better, the cast and crew deserved, Terry deserved better, and this one guy ruins it for everyone because the bar was buried six feet deep beneath the ground and he still managed to go lower, and that does suck, and it is miserable and unfair, so take a moment if you need it 🤷‍♀️) but let's face it, we got off lucky. Arguably, considering this was a standalone novel from the nineties, that then got made, in one of the best book adaptations I've ever seen, into a limited standalone tv miniseries (and, again, emphasising the standalone here, so even if it all goes to hell in a handbasket, we'll still always have S1 and the book; people have been ignoring the Jurassic Park sequels for nearly three decades), and then got a surprise sequel, we were pretty lucky the whole way through.

And regarding the whole what if it's bad thing, I was always going to be worried: I was anxious long before this shit went down, and I was anxious before S2 and even S1, as well. It's not like we ever had any guarantee it was going to be good beforehand either, and at this point, knowing what we do now, I'm not at all sure I'd have trusted ng to write this anyways. So while, yeah sure, I'm maybe a little more anxious now, I trust Michael and David with these characters and I trust Rob and Rhianna with Terry's legacy and story and that they wouldn't have fought so hard for this ending unless they planned to keep fighting and thought they could pull it off. Isn't the problem with this kind of thing normally that what happnes is the creator who cares deeply about the work gets pulled in favour of someone out-of-touch who cares not a jot about the story and needs to leave their own grubby fingerprints all over it? More the other way around here, no?

Anyway, what I also wanted to say was that I really appreciated your 'think of it as the final two episodes of season two' (and all your takes on this situation so far, very level-headed and optimistic, thank you). I mean, you're right, and it's hardly wildly out-there for a series to finish on a feature-length special, and although the filler material in S2 and the compression of S3 maybe means it doesn't exactly resemble what the second book would have been, it was only ever meant to be two books. (Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed S2 and was very glad to get it, even though I am a book/S1 fan and also had the most fun in that time fandom pre/post/around the time of the S1 release, but why does it exist? Ego? You can't tell me you couldn't have fit the important parts of S2 into one season with the S3 plotline.)

Basically, I'm grieving the could-have-beens (imagine if he'd been exposed way earlier and the TP estate had had control of this whole production from the very start!) and I'm a little worried that that hurt'll stick around no matter how good S3 is - which I need to fix, because that's more power over my favourite show and what it means to me that I want to give anyone, let alone someone like that - but at the end of day, I do think it definitely can be done with what we have, and I'm choosing to be hopeful it'll be done well, because, well, why wouldn't I?

(I will say this hasn't been great for my faith in humanity, because I really want to believe not all men are shit and some of them are making it very difficult right now, but that's an entirely different problem and so far believing most people are mostly good has always prevailed in the end so. y'know. we'll get there. might reread discworld, that's always good for that.)

Sorry for venting all this at you! I just kinda felt the need to write it all down once to get it off my chest... have a snack on me? I'm partial to cherry tomatoes, green melon and mandarines at the moment (I stop eating salads in winter, which means I default to eating even more fruit) but I can also offer homemade baked goodies fresh from this morning? 🥧

Hi there. 💕 You are welcome to vent away & thank you for the delicious-sounding snacks and kind words. I'm glad my posts on the movie boosted your spirits about it. I agree with and can relate to almost everything that you said here so assume that anything that I don't address just has a 'yes, absolutely' nod happening. 🙂‍↕️

The one thing I want to touch on here is S2 and this idea of it being "filler" that you mentioned that I think might not be quite accurate. I think you (and anyone else who reads this) might feel more enthused about the idea of a good ending in 90 minutes after reading this so hopefully this'll be another way that I can help?

On why S2 is really the whole story and actually had a lot more going on in every way than S1...

Ok, I'm going to explain something that drives writers like myself bonkers 😂 and that is how some readers or viewers of fictional stories mix up plot and story.

Nothing grinds our gears than reading things like "filler" and "unnecessary subplots" because, while everyone is within their rights to have an opinion on written works, 95% of the time, the person who says phrases like this isn't talking about the quality of the work but of its very existence. They're saying "why did we have to read/watch this? it didn't connect to anything" and that's where they are very, very, very... argh, just tell them, Crowley...

...thank you, dear. Right, so, why is it wrong?

Because what many people who don't write don't understand about subplots and more character-driven story arcs is that the writers sat down and decided to do that stuff for very, very specific story reasons. Readers and viewers mistake plot for story. Plot only exists in service of story and, so, all plots exist for a purpose in the story. They're all relevant. In fact, the stuff people usually label as "filler" in a story is really exactly where they should be looking to figure out what the story is saying. If you're big mad about all this time you spent with Maggie and Nina in S2, I'd say you might not still understand what S2 was about because you won't understand Aziraphale's story without understanding both Maggie and Nina's struggles in S2, for example.

A story is the whole, overall thing. It's the meanings, themes, and messages in the work. It's what's being said. It's the ideas being put forth by the piece. It's what it's about. It's different from plot, which is just the stuff the writers are making the characters do or not do in order to tell the story that they are looking to tell. Story is the art; plot is a tool used to make that art. Fiction writers can come at their story from almost anywhere to convey what it is that they are trying to say so there is meaning in the fact that they are choosing to tell their stories the way that they are telling them. They came up with these ideas for reasons.

When you dismiss stuff as filler, you're saying that it's lesser than more in-your-face and bigger plots (when, often, it's very much not), and you're telling a writer how they should have written their own story-- most of the time, without even fully seeing the ending of that story or giving any consideration to why it is that the writer wanted you to read or watch the stuff you're saying wasn't necessary. I'm not arguing that every story is perfect but you aren't getting anywhere near close to being able to evaluate a story if you're not willing to dive into what you were given and consider why it was that you were given those things and what they might mean.

Until the main question that you're asking about every single aspect of a story is "what is this saying?", you're not really fully engaging with a work. You won't get there by dismissing what the artists are telling you is important.

The secret sauce to interpreting fiction are subplots, actually. They exist to help highlight the themes of the main story, often in a slightly more direct way. If you want to understand Good Omens, starting with Ineffable Bureaucracy is actually one of the best ways to get at the core of the themes of the story. It's far from wasted time in the story.

There's actually a funny nod to the importance of subplots in 1941 when Aziraphale references Sophocles, the playwright who basically created the concept of the supporting character whose story mirrors and parallels the main character(s). The mention of Sophocles shows up in S2, the season that brings Gabriel more fully into his purpose as exactly that.

The reason why S2's plot is centered around the honestly pretty easily solvable mystery as to what's happened to Gabriel is because Gabriel, from the get-go, has been the entire story distilled down.

If you follow nothing but Ineffable Bureaucracy in Good Omens, you're going to be closer to getting what it's about and where it's going and what its end game is than you are if you are dismissing it as wasted time when we only have few episodes left. If you haven't yet seen the secret wisdom in Jim-- not to mention understand that Jim and Gabriel are the same person-- then you're probably wigging out more about the movie.

You likely think that S2 was wasted on stuff like Gabriel, or Maggie and Nina's romance, when they should have been getting to Armageddon and The Second Coming already!

You haven't yet noticed that Armageddon has more than one meaning in the series.

It's not always the literal destruction of Earth but also a person's own life crisis. We are all worlds of our own and those worlds can be put at risk if we don't let others in and take care of ourselves and those around us.

When you realize this, you can start to see that S1 goes hard with a freight train of plot all over the place that is related to Armageddon in a more Biblical, apocalyptic sense while it establishes its universe for us but that, once we know how it all works, we can get something like S2... a time where we can step back and start using Armageddon in the more figurative way that the story is also presenting it.

We need to because the story isn't about Heaven or Hell-- it's about being a person. S2 is emphasizing the deeper aspects of the themes and rolling that out at a pace more in line with a person having a few days of inner crisis. When you see that Aziraphale's crisis is the point then you can see how S1 can be about The Four Horsepeople riding to the end of the world and S2 can show War (inner conflict), Pollution (mental health issues), and Famine (symptoms of the other two; lack of food and pleasure and connection; self-starvation and self-denial) as a mental health crisis.

The point is that if you're thinking these characters need to come together to overthrow Heaven and Hell and get to the South Downs Cottage and there's no time slajdflkfwjlkejlje!?!?, then you aren't realizing that not every revolution involves guns and bombs.

People all over the world can start a love train that's far more effective. You might think a subplot about The Hellhound and The Ginger Cat learning to play nice and that they have a fuckton in common and should maybe bury the hatchet and just become eternal bffs already is filler but Crowley and Gabriel aligning is set up for the end game. It's strength in numbers and finding peace and family. They can't overthrow Heaven/Hell without help and Gabriel is the Supreme Archangel. They literally will never have a South Downs Cottage ending without a plot that helped Crowley and Aziraphale see that Gabriel and Beez are on their side.

This is the revolution in Good Omens:

It will take all the characters coming together to overthrow Heaven/Hell and set up something new for us to get a happy ending and we absolutely will. S2 is Gabriel-centric because Gabriel is the key to all of the characters getting a peaceful ending and because he's a split-directly-down-the-middle mirror of both Crowley and Aziraphale. In a season that is more about Aziraphale's inner Armageddon than about an external threat, Gabriel is vital to telling that story. The plot of S2 is every bit as important to the story as S1. I'd argue that it's even more important because takes the time to go at the themes in a slower, deeper way. It needs to because it's a story of a fall that sets up for a story in S3 of a recovery from one.

Good Omens is the absolute perfect combination of a show that is both very, very detail-oriented and full of depth while also being, secretly, an incredibly simple story. I do not mean simple in a negative way but in a chef's kiss sort of way. Simple in a tight and elegant sort of way. This is something that I think some people might not see when they're theorizing but it's something to keep in mind ahead of the movie. Not just because the movie is shorter-- this would have been relevant if we were having a longer S3, too.

Good Omens has a very engaged fan base that looks for the details, yes. *raises hand* I'm one of them lol. And there will be plenty to pour over in the movie, but... the big thing to keep in mind is that your theory needs to be something that is simple, that can be explained in under a handful of scenes, tops, and that is focused on where Aziraphale's story arc is going above anything and everything else.

If you're beginning with time loops and the birth of a new antichrist baby, I'm telling you from ages of experience reading and writing stories, you're going to be way off. If you are over here composing theories of the story that you are arguing are correct and this theory involves, idk... *makes something up* Crowley is really Elvis and Elvis is really The Bentley and when a rainbow hits Whickber Street at exactly 4 minutes into the new season, Satan will be revealed to really be Jesus, I think maybe you might be missing the point of the details that the show has given already. Like the plot, these details exist to reinforce the themes of the story. Story beats everything else-- it's what this is all about.

And what Good Omens is about? Is best summed up by Michael Sheen, in this single sentence that I really, really agree with and have paraphrased more than once in posts:

Good Omens is about the business of living. It's about the human experience, which is the experience of being a person. Everything related to Heaven and Hell and good and evil and Armageddon and supernatural things is plot that only exists to highlight a story about the complexities of being a person.

The supernatural is human and the human is supernatural.

That is what Good Omens is about.

While Crowley and Aziraphale are built as two halves of a whole and are both main characters, Aziraphale is the main character from a technical, story perspective, because he is the character whose story arc is driving both the plot and story forward. He's heading for a happy ending with Crowley in the South Downs by the end of the film. If you're making theories, start with what kind of plot would truly get him there and still fit with all of the themes of the story.

This 'it's about being a person' business is why if you look at S2 as filler and not as a season that is exploring the continuing themes on a deeper level, you're still worried about things like there being no time in a movie to show the story of a new antichrist kid being born or how they're going to fit the whole Second Coming into the movie. You don't yet see that Aziraphale parallels Adam and that being an antichrist is basically just being a person and that Aziraphale is presently the antichrist in the story. There is no antichrist child yet to be born. They won't be cutting it because it's not the story.

Armageddon since S2 has been Aziraphale's own personal one and the story from the end of S2 on is now how, if all the other characters can't come together to help him, it could also trigger Armageddon of the S1, Earth-destroying kind. It's tying a more literal Armageddon into a more figurative one. Because this story is about being a person so Armageddon is just metaphorical for going through a mental health crisis and shutting people out.

This story's themes include that every person matters and we all have to let others in and look out for one another. That there's strength in numbers. That found family and adopted family is as much family as biological family-- often, even more so. That labelling and categorizing people is bullshit and you should always open the cover and read the first sentences of people and help people whose stories begin with the same letters find one another. That it might be surprising who has things in common. It's about all of Heaven and Hell versus all of humanity, in the sense that ideas of being a perfect angel or being seen as an evil demon are concepts felt by human beings that get in the way of peace and healthy, happy living, but that fighting them is a common, human struggle, regardless of from where you come.

If you are too focused on the religious plot being the center of the film, you haven't yet seen the meaning of why the end of S1 was an eleven year old kid saving the world by telling off the bio-dad that was never there for him. You might be one of the people who thought this a silly, anti-climatic ending to that story, and don't yet realize that this is the entire story in a nutshell.

Adam can only reject Satan and keep the darkness at bay because he is surrounded-- here, literally-- by a family that supports him. He has good people for parents and was lucky enough to grow up with resources that all kids in this world should have. He has an absolutely terrific group of friends. He has this witch lady and her boyfriend and these two gay uncles that just showed up out of nowhere 😂 and his human incarnate self has what it needs to make it through this crisis, in this moment, even if he'll probably have others throughout his life, just like all of us. He's not evil incarnate and he doesn't have to be perfect-- he's just a person.

Aziraphale tells Adam this but struggles to see himself in the same way. That's what S2 is about.

S2 is about that other kid who, like Adam, breaks the season down into a single line of dialogue, David Tennant's apparent favorite from the season:

Jemimah knows who she is and she is happy to claim ownership over her art and contributions to the world. She's living her life with excitement and enthusiasm in a way that gets more complicated as we become traumatized adults. Crowley and Aziraphale struggle with this. They have been making a life together on Earth for thousands of years and each struggle, in their own ways, to truly accept that they are people who are allowed to have a life because they struggle to accept that they are people, just like everyone else.

Their story is about getting to a better place with that. That's really all Good Omens fundamentally is. That's why their ending is going to be to go live in a little cottage together that isn't a business that covers up an angelic embassy that covers up a secret love den. It's just their house-- theirs together for the life they're going to live openly together.

If you want some peace with the film, I'd advise throwing over your theories about The Second Coming and Armageddon needing to happen and antichrist kids and how Jesus fits into everything. Jesus in Good Omens is Crowley romancing Aziraphale at the crucifixion and Aziraphale using what Jesus said to Crowley to reject temptation as invitation to fuck him. I thought Jesus in a single scene or less was the most likely thing for S3 and the same holds for the movie. It's not the story. The only time The Second Coming is mentioned in S2 is by the villain and, to get there, Earth would have to first be destroyed. It won't be.

If the story is about being a messy human walking the Earth and we're in the end game now, then the story is about Aziraphale and only Aziraphale. Everything-- everything-- will be in service of Aziraphale's story arc. We already had just a few episodes with S3 and we now have even less time but the way this is going is still the same. The story is Aziraphale's fall and the other characters coming together to challenge Heaven to keep Aziraphale from eternity in Hell. That's how Armageddon is stopped this time around-- overthrowing Heaven with Aziraphale's fate as the motivation to take on The Metatron. It's nothing to do with Jesus. It's everything to do with Aziraphale.

When you see that, you can see how feasible that is in 90 minutes, with plenty of time for things like 1941, Part 3 and other flashbacks.

I think, when all is said and done, you might wind up appreciating S2 more after the film but you can get there already if you start looking at it less as meaningless fluff and start asking why it is that we were shown this story, in this way, and what that can tell us about the story we're watching.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

“So,” Nancy says, all business. Steve knows her, knows she’s pushing down whatever feelings she has. Knows it won’t last. Appreciates it anyways. “Barb?”

Steve nods, leading her back down the hall. “Listen up,” he says. “Our top priority right now is saving Barb and Will from the Upside Down.” He looks around. “Jonathan’s already out looking for Will. We’ll need to read him in before we go, but he deserves to be part of the rescue mission for his own brother. First things first, though, we’re going to need weapons.”

“They’re vulnerable to fire,” Robin continues. “So Molotov cocktails, and lots of them. Nancy, you had a gun last time. Any idea where that would be?”

Nancy frowns, shakes her head. “I don’t have one.”

“It’s Jonathan’s.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “So we’ll need to bring him in soon. He also had a bat filled with nails, which I ended up taking. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, I need you to think up ideas on flamethrowers. If nothing else, lighters and cans of hairspray. Let one of us know what you need, and we’ll find a way to get it for you.”

“And me?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins. “Oh, you’re gonna love this.” He tosses a tape at Eddie. “Metallica, Master of Puppets. 1986.”

Eddie looks down at the tape, then up at Steve, open-mouthed. “Holy shit,” he whispers.

“I’ve got a player in my room. How fast can you learn the second track?”

“Oh, my guitar!” Eddie says, scrambling up. “Holy shit. Uh, depends on how hard the song is. I’ll let you know once I’ve listened to it a few times.”

“Eddie,” Steve says before he can leave. He freezes in the doorway. “If you want to back out…”

“You’re a distraction,” Robin says softly. “The bats follow the sound. The first time around, you die because you weren’t willing to let them get to Dustin.”

“Which we’ll fix this time,” Steve says firmly. “We know what went wrong. We’ll make sure to close the vents this time.” He works his jaw. “I’m not losing anyone.”

Eddie looks at them. Robin, to Steve, to everyone else. “I’m in,” he says quietly.

Steve nods. Eddie leaves. They hear his footsteps heading upstairs. Steve’s door closes, and a few seconds later the song starts up.

Steve tenses. “I’m never gonna not think of that.”

“Steve,” Robin says, and nods to the couch beside her, inviting him to sit down.

He does, taking her hand and squeezing it, breathing out harshly. “Okay,” he says. “Boys, start brainstorming. Nance, can you go find Jon? We need him and his gun.” She nods and walks out.

El approaches Steve. “You gave me a hug,” she says seriously. “When they were being loud. Your head is being loud. Will a hug help?”

Inexplicable tears burn at the corners of his eyes. “Y’know what? I think it just might.”

She smiles and hugs him, and he hugs her back, pulling her to sit beside him. “Y’know what?” He whispers.

“What?” She whispers back.

“Your hair grows out, and it looks so pretty.”

She looks excited at the prospect. “It does?”

“Mhm. Right, Robs?”

“Oh, yeah,” she agrees. “Bitchin’, even.”

“What is ‘bitchin’?” El asks as Steve slaps at Robin.

“Something Robin shouldn’t’ve said,” he says, pretend-glaring at her. “Timeline, Robs, c’mon.”

She snorts. “Okay, nerd.”

“Band geek.”

She squawks and launches herself at him, and Steve laughs as he curls over El, who’s giggling.

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[thesimulacrasimp]

Okay so im gonna just throw randomly my thoughts on sm6 while rewatching it cuz why not, I was doing the same thing for hazbin hotel so why not spooky month too?

So yeah, SPOOKY MONTH 6 SPOILERS WARNING‼️

Ok im just gonna say: that starting scene with thieves was kinda funny. Also rewatching it, im starting to suspect that this giant spider thing in Lilas attic have her husbands soul, IDK WHY, I JUST FEEL LIKE IT, it just looks so important, it even appeared twice in the ep: in the begining n in the end.

Also ARE WE JUST GONNA IGNORE HOW JAUNE CALLED LILA "HOT STUFF"??? WHILE HAVING A HUSBAND?????? A HUSBAND THAT SITTING NEARBY HER WHEN SHE SAYING THAT???????? ARE THEY IN A POLY RELATIONSHIPS HOLY FUCKING SHIT????????????? IM EVEN MORE INTRIGED NOW

Okay so Skid does know and remember his dad, I just was thinking that his father left/died when Skid still wasnt born or when he was very little so Skid doesnt even know that he had a father, but no he does remember his dad, so that means he presented for quite long time in Skids life.

Also im really suprised how big Pumps house is, well i mean— he said that his parents work alot so ig i shouldnt be suprised-

Poor Ignacio just wants some peace– *watched the ep a lil longer* Oh hes kinda fucked up actually---

Also for some reason i find kinda interesting that Ross n Rob were kinda comforting Roy every time they were on the screen like "We're here for you, Roy" etc etc, so im thinking maybe something bad happened to Roy? I mean he looked kinda frustrated n angry, so maybe somethng between him n his parents?

Okay but can we talk about how Moloch look so much more scarier than before?

Okay so--- get ready for my rambleling bout my boy Dexter-- HE LIVED WITH HIS MOM N ALOT OF CATS😭😭😭 N HIS MOMS PURE GRIEF BOUT HER LOSS WAS GENIUNALY SO SAD TO WITNESS 😭😭😭😭

Okay so looking at Skids impression when Father Gregor asked him bout his father-- yeah i think his dad actually died---- but i can be wrong ofc

Okay- im sorry but-- why does Kevin n Radfords interactions make them look like a couple--- I AM SORRY BUT----

Also the way Father Gregor gave Kevin holy water was really funny to me, it was like: "You know these children?? Yeaahhhh i feel bad for u, kid. Here have some holy water, just in case...." ALSO the fact that ppl started coming in the store ONLY after Radford sprinkled holy water in it-- DOES THAT MEAN THAT THERE WERE DEMONS IN IT THAT WERE KEEPING PPL AWAY???

Dont mind me guys, im just a little crying :')

Okay but the way how Skid n Pump were SO exited to see Moloch again was really funny n cute at the same time

Okay... This is the part when i literally teared up. I know it was just Moloch trying to fool Father Gregor to give him kids but idk.... It still made me tear up for some reason, and i even know the reason: i just miss Dexter so much n i didnt expect him to appear so much times in this ep, I just think hes a precious boy who deserved better. I KNOW THAT HE WAS KILLING ANIMALS N I DONT APPROVE THAT AT ALL, but hes still a sweetie idfc.

Also why would Patty need a gun so immediatly?..

Also that part when Moloch were wandering around the town n Father n spooky bois were trying to catch him was so funny and entertaining

Poor Pelo got ooffed again. Press F.

AND OMG THIS PART WHEN MOLOCH POSSESED SKID N PUMPS BODIES AND THE FATHER EXORCISMS THEM WAS SOOOO COOL, I DONT EVEN KNOW WHY, I THINK I JUST HAVE A THING FOR DEMONS N EXORCISM.

And this is the part where i actually cried alot. Poor Skid doesnt know that its not his fault at all.. Also even if Father Gregors words were kinda mean, that Lila is irresponsible mother, I cant disagree with them. Yes, she is an alone mother, but it doesnt give her permission to just leave her child to himself n his friend n go drink n then spent time w her child drunk. Yeah i know, that she leaves him to mr Wonder n Susie, but lets be honest, were here even a single time when the kids didnt just leave the house n cause problem? No. So i think the Fathers words are make perfect sense, n Lila should think bout it. Also a lil thing i just thought bout, why would Lila throw away her husbands stuff? If he actually died why would she do this? Or hes not dead n he just left for some reason? Idk

Also OMFG THAT OOGA BOOGA JUMPSCARE GOT ME SO FUCKING GOOD, I WASNT READY FOR AT ALL

and so ummm i think thats it. It took me 1 hour to write this lol.