#why is it ‘cool’ to make these jokes?

[aliosne]

I stumbled into another facet of this due to a less-than-ideal ttrpg experience. Sometimes the fantasy is What If Everything Were Fucking Easy, Actually

I understand and respect that a lot of people want to be challenged by their games! I’ve watched lots of meta for fromsoft games and the like, I understand why working hard at things and mastering skills down to the frame is satisfying!

It is hard for me to go piss.

Recognising I have to piss, initiating Time To Go Piss protocol, standing up, walking to the bathroom, lowering myself safely to the toilet, and so on? It is physically and mentally hard—and painful!—for me.

When I sit down to play a videogame or gather around the table for a session, I want to live a fantasy where not only are mundane things like going to the grocery store or washing dishes not a gauntlet, but I can do AMAZING THINGS with minimal effort and feel cool doing it. I don’t want zero challenge from my games but please. Just for a few minutes or hours. I want to live in a world where things ARE fucking easy.

a reminder to my fellow disabled people it isn't wrong or make you less of a player for using accessibility options.

a reminder that playing on a low difficulty only or (like with games with minecraft) no difficulty

a reminder that using unlimited health options like in cult of the lamb is not bad or wrong and you are no less of a player for using it

turning brightness high on horror games like tattletale whether its because you are visually impaired or because you cannot handle the fear a low-light scene can cause.

disabled people are not any less a gamer for needing accessibility options. we are not any less a gamer for playing the game on easy. we are not any less a gamer because we are disabled and might not be able to get all the achievements or trophies or whatever a game has available.

we deserve to be able to enjoy the games we want to play

[tan1shere]

Heyyyyyyy could YOU please PLEASE do one where Billie tells the reader how to touch herself, while Billie is on tour?!!?

Call Me

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: coming righttttt up, hope you like it 😊

Warnings: smut, phone sex ?? Masterbating - think thats it !

Masterlist

It was lonely here all alone. Finding little jobs and activities to do to fill in time. Whenever you weren't working, yourself. Your girlfriend, Billie was currently on her HMHAS tour. And you haven't seen her in days. Truth be told you missed her like crazy. Her presence. Her voice. Her touch..

Which led to the next feeling you missed. Ovulation was no joke. And you were currently facing the feral-ness of it. Even more so that she isn't here. You had been frustrated all day. And you only now realize why. You needed to touch yourself, you had to relieve this pent up tension. So as the night comes along you get into your warm, comfortable bed. Checking the time. Billie usually calls around this time.

You figure shes sleeping, she had been extra tired lately. You go to slide your hand down into your shorts, about to touch yourself. When you do, but stopping. Things aren't the same. You wanted her touch. You try to continue but nothing was feeling good right now. That caused more frustration to bubble inside you. Deciding to just sleep it away. And hope tomorrow was normal.

Next day rolls around and you still have the same feeling. Frustration and horniness. Not a great combination, the day felt longer because of it. It was a bit earlier when you got home, but thankfully Billie didn't have a show today. So she was hopefully going to answer when you call. You couldn't take it anymore you needed her help. And you needed it desperately.

You go to lay on the bed, grabbing your phone and dialing her number. She answers in seconds, causing you to grow nervous. In all the years of being with her, phone sex was the one thing you've yet to do. So ofcourse you were nervous. Would she even help you, would this be odd? "Hi baby." You hear her say, cheerfully. You smile to yourself. "Hello!" You try your hardest to not jump into things, going to try give her some hints.

"How was your day?" She then asks. You sigh, ever so lightly. "A little frustrating, good to be home though. How about yours?" - "Mine was pretty boring I've just been preparing for tomorrow's show and chilling. Why was yours frustrating my love?" You think for a moment. "Just some work and other little things, some of which I just can't fix by myself.." - "I'm sorry, anything I can do to help at all?" Yes. Phone fuck me. Was all you wanted to say but you had to play things cool. Even if your body was heating up at the thought of this happening.

"Not that I can think of, just wanted to hear your voice I missed you." She smiles to herself. "I miss you too babe." There was a small pause, you were contemplating on how you'd do this. When a small idea pops into your head. You missed her voice so much, and it sounds like you had just woke her up from a nap. Her voice was slightly raspy, a bit of her tiredness peeking through.

"Did anything else happen today?" You then ask, getting comfortable on the bed. Moving your hands just above the waistband of your underwear. You had decided to get straight into your sleepwear, just a loose night gown. Wanting to feel good as all you've been wearing lately are big t-shirts to bed. You wanted to feel hot, make this moment more sensual. "Not too much if im honest, just got my outfit for tomorrow, did some other things. Just boring stuff really." You hum in reply, moving your hand in your underwear as she speaks.

Was this wrong? It felt a little like that. Your face heats up what're you even doing. But you get pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name. "Hello? Y/n, baby. You still there?" The name made you bite your lip. "Y-yeah sorry." She chuckles. "You didn't answer my question love." "Oh, oops. What was it?" She smiles to herself again, finding you cute. Except what you were doing was far from cute and downright filthy. "I asked you how shark had been, he's behaving right?" Your hand moves lower, trying to stay focused on the conversation and her voice. "Y-yeah he's been good." You let out a quiet sigh but she hears it. "Everything ok?"

You get nervous again, how were you even going to manage this. "I'm fine.." You needed her to keep talking, and thankfully she does. "Ok, Im sure if it's anything youre just tired. I was going to talk to you about when I get back, we have a dinner with Finn on the Friday. Just thought I'd remind you incase you forgot." Your finger had been in you, slowly moving the whole time she was talking. And when you don't reply she gets more confused. "Baby, what're you doing you seem distracted." You holt your movements, trying to think of an excuse but why? You wanted to call her and ask.

Ask her to talk to you, help you. So why were you so damn nervous. "Talk to me baby." God sake her voice was so hot even when she wasn't intentionally trying. You bite your lip again trying to stop any noise that was about to escape. Mustering up some sort of strength to reply. "I'm f-fine." Was all you managed to respond with. Billie sits there in thought, when she hears another sigh. Was she catching on? She needed to be sure. "I miss you, so. So much." She was playing with fire. You don't respond again, having your eyes shut as you try to give yourself pleasure.

When it's not working you let out another sigh followed by a tiny whine. She hears that loud and clear, smirking to herself. She knew good and well what you were doing. "Can't wait to see you in a few days, get to kiss you. Hold you. Touch.. you." She chose her words evily. But she didn't stop there. A breath was to be heard. Followed by a frustrated sigh. "Let me help, baby. You sound annoyed." Another small whine left you, at the fact she was right and just overall the way she was speaking to you.

Your brows knit together, giving in and letting her. She knows now, there's no point in staying silent. "It's no good, I miss you. Your hands." She coos. "I know baby, I know. I'm just so good at touching my girl huh?" Your head rests back. "So good." You breath into the speaker. "Your fingers still inside?" You reply with a hum. "Move em." So you do just that, slowly at first. "Move your thumb, touch your clit for me." You do that, touching it then moving your thumb in a circle motion.

Everything was so still and quiet she could hear your wetness and God it was driving her nuts, she wanted to be there. To see it, to feel it. "That's it." She says encouragingly, hearing your noises as you speed up on both tactics. She could just imagine it, you touching yourself just to her speaking. "Was baby doing this the whole time I was talking?" She then says. Your cheeks grow red with heat. "I- uhm." She lets out an evil chuckle, sending tingles straight to your pussy. It was such a hot chuckle. But then again, anything she did right now was 10x hotter. "You're such a filthy girl huh?" You bite your lip yet again.

Feeling more pleasure than you had been. "Please keep talking please." You begged. Voice so needy. "Plunge deeper for me, know you can. Imagine my fingers. How deep they go. Imagine your thumb is my tongue as I swirl it around your throbbing clit." Your back arches at the thought, you needed it more than anything. "Need you so bad." A louder moan was to be heard. The fact this woman is just talking to you and you almost coat the sheets in your nectar. She felt all the power in this moment. "Go faster for me - that's a good girl." She finishes as she hears the squelching increase. Your breaths and moans mingle into one as you get closer.

"Mmm, fuck I'm so so close. Please." She laughs yet again. "So cute, still asking to cum even when I'm miles away. So incredibly good, aren't you?" Your head lulls back into the pillows again, feeling the knot almost snap. "Fuck, Billie." - "Faster baby, rub your clit. Wanna hear you squirt." Just those words alone send both of those sensations out of you, having you leak and squirt all at once. Your breath being uneven as your eyes roll back. "Good, girl. That's what I like to hear."

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Are You Always This Forward? | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

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Summary: Y/n meets Charles at a party, and what starts as a casual fling quickly becomes something more. As their connection deepens and feelings grow, Y/n begins to question— is it really casual? [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

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A/N: Also comment if you guys wanna be added to the taglist because I've written almost 7 chapters for this series and we're nowhere near done so buckle up

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Part 1 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist

You weren’t exactly thrilled to be here. The party was crowded, with people spilling out onto the balcony, laughter and music filling the room. It wasn’t really your scene, but your friends had convinced you to come out for a change, insisting that you “needed a night out.”

"Look, if nothing else, you might at least see some familiar faces," one of your friends said, nudging you with a grin. “Rumor has it Charles Leclerc is here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the little spark of curiosity that flared up. “Oh, please,” you replied with a laugh, though you glanced around the room. “Why would Charles Leclerc be at a random party like this?”

“Apparently, he knows the host,” your friend said, looking around too, as if he’d appear on command. “Besides, you know he’s got a thing for these parties. Always in the photos with some new girl hanging off his arm.”

“Right, the ‘playboy’ Leclerc reputation,” you muttered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. But the truth was, you knew exactly who he was, and while the rumors weren’t exactly your thing, he was… undeniably attractive.

“Yeah, that reputation,” another friend chimed in, giving you a sly smile. “I mean, look at him—he’s practically a walking invitation for bad decisions. But I wouldn’t mind, honestly.” She laughed, and you joined in, the both of you glancing around in a playful attempt to spot him.

But in the next second, you felt it—a gaze that sent a small thrill up your spine. Your friends were still laughing and joking, but your eyes had locked onto someone across the room, and there he was: Charles, in the flesh, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand. And he was staring right at you.

A rush of heat crept into your cheeks, but you quickly looked away, brushing it off as a fluke. You barely knew him; it was nothing. And yet, a few minutes later, when you glanced back, he was still watching you, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

“Look who’s got Leclerc’s attention,” one of your friends whispered, nudging you in the ribs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was eyeing you up.”

“Stop,” you muttered, laughing it off. “You guys are reading too much into it. He’s probably just looking around.”

“Yeah, right,” she teased, winking at you. “Seems like he’s only looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to ignore it. But Charles seemed to have other plans because, a few moments later, he began making his way over to your group. Your friends scattered, throwing you quick glances of encouragement, leaving you standing there as he came to a stop in front of you, his gaze warm and entirely focused.

"Enjoying the party?" he asked, his voice smooth, just a hint of an accent slipping through.

“It’s all right,” you said, trying to play it cool. “Wasn’t really planning on talking to anyone new tonight.”

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, tilting his head as he looked at you. “Well, that’s a shame. You’re the most interesting person here.”

“Oh, please.” You shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. “Don’t you have other people you could be charming?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his eyes flicking over you again, “but none of them seem half as interesting as you.”

The boldness of his gaze unsettled you, and you bit your lip, shifting your weight slightly as you tried to keep your cool. He was every bit as captivating as his reputation claimed, and yet you were wary, keeping your guard up despite the warmth spreading through you.

“Are you always this forward?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Only with people worth it,” he said, his gaze unwavering. He took a small step closer, a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. “So, can I at least buy you a drink?”

You found yourself nodding before you fully realized it. He waved down a waiter, ordering drinks as the conversation between you flowed easily, surprising you. He was funny, easygoing, and each small, accidental touch sent a jolt through you that you tried to ignore.

Over the next hour, you laughed, your body leaning into his as the drinks made you both looser, the edges of the world around you softening. The subtle touches became less accidental—his hand resting on your lower back, the way he’d brush his fingers against yours whenever he handed you your drink. It was heady, electric, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that felt both thrilling and a little reckless.

“So,” he murmured, leaning in close, his face just inches from yours. “Are you going to keep pretending you’re not interested?”

You laughed, looking away, your cheeks warming under his gaze. “Who says I’m pretending?”

He smiled, his fingers brushing your cheek as he gently guided your face back to his. “I do.” And then he closed the gap, pressing his lips softly against yours.

The kiss was light at first, testing, but when you responded, his hands settled on your waist, pulling you in closer. You could feel his warmth, his heart beating beneath your palms as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as the tension that had been building between you finally spilled over.

You broke apart for a moment, catching your breath, and he smiled, looking at you as if he was just as affected. “Come back with me?” he asked softly, his voice low and inviting.

Your heart raced, but you nodded, the thrill of the moment drowning out any hesitation. The ride to his apartment was a blur, the silence filled with anticipation, the only sound the occasional brush of his hand over yours. And when you arrived, he barely waited for the door to close before he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands finding your waist as he guided you toward his bedroom.

In his arms, it felt like time slowed. Every touch, every kiss was filled with an intensity that left you breathless, his lips tracing a path from your mouth down to your neck, his hands warm and steady as he pulled you against him. The night was filled with whispered words and soft laughter, the thrill of his touch and the warmth of his presence pulling you into a heady, dreamlike state. When you finally drifted off, it was with a sense of contentment you hadn’t expected, his arm draped around you, his breathing even beside you.

The morning light seeped through the curtains, and you blinked, slowly becoming aware of the weight of Charles’s arm still wrapped around you. You shifted slightly, thinking you’d sneak out quietly, but he tightened his hold, murmuring sleepily, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You laughed softly, turning to face him. “I thought I’d slip out before I overstayed my welcome.”

He grinned, his hand moving to your waist. “And here I was hoping you’d stay for breakfast.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. “You really don’t have to play the gentleman.”

“Who said I was playing?” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. He reached over to grab his phone, tapping in the passcode before handing it to you. “Just in case,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze soft, watching as you saved your number on his phone.

You arched a brow as you handed it back. “Right. As if you’re going to remember to call me.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

With a laugh, you finally slipped out of bed, pulling your clothes back on as he watched you with a lazy, satisfied smile. “Don’t worry, you’ll be hearing from me,” he called out as you left, and you shook your head, chalking it up to morning-after charm.

A few weeks later, you found yourself at another party, the memory of that night with Charles lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. But it wasn’t until you felt a familiar hand on your waist, warm and steady, that you turned and saw him, his grin as mischievous as ever.

Without a word, he guided you down a hallway, slipping into a quiet bathroom and closing the door behind you. “Miss me?” he murmured, pressing you back against the door as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, barely able to suppress a grin. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Well,” he replied, brushing his lips over yours in a way that made your knees weak, “I couldn’t just let you disappear.”

Before you could respond, he kissed you, and just like before, the spark ignited instantly. It was the start of something unspoken, casual but thrilling, each encounter leaving you wanting more, yet content with the moment.

The next few weeks went by in a blur. Somehow, Charles found his way into your life again and again, just as casually as that night at the party. You didn’t think too much about it. He’d message you when he was around, a simple “Hey, what are you up to?” that always had a certain charm to it, like he’d genuinely missed your company. You didn’t mind, and maybe part of you even looked forward to it.

One evening, you found yourself back at his place, sprawled on the couch together, a movie playing in the background though neither of you were watching. Charles was close, his arm slung over your shoulders, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him, his fingers tracing light patterns along your arm in a way that felt natural and maybe a little more comfortable than you’d expected.

“So, what happened this time?” you asked, glancing at him. It had become a bit of a game between you two—he’d tell you a funny story or some little anecdote, always skirting around any real details about his life but sharing just enough to keep you intrigued.

“Oh, nothing too dramatic,” he replied with a lazy grin, “just an embarrassing incident in front of the team principal. Tripped over a power cord, nearly brought the whole simulator down with me.”

You burst out laughing, nudging him. “So much for that smooth reputation of yours.”

“Oh, I’m smooth when it counts,” he shot back, his eyes dancing with that familiar cheeky glint as he leaned closer. “I haven’t heard any complaints from you. Also being smooth is more of my teammate’s thing”

You felt your cheeks warm, and you looked away, laughing softly. There was something about him, the way he moved so effortlessly from humor to something more intense, that always had your heart racing. When his hand moved to brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, you felt that familiar spark between you.

The kisses started slow, a mix of laughter and warmth as his lips met yours. You’d gotten used to the way he’d go from teasing you to pulling you close, his hands trailing along your back as he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more insistent. Somehow, even though you both kept things light, there was a weight to it, an intensity that left you breathless every time.

But no matter how intense it got, the mornings were always easy. He’d hand you a coffee, tease you about how you liked it, and insist on making breakfast—even if that breakfast was sometimes just a couple of slices of toast or a quickly scrambled egg.

One morning, you woke up with him lying next to you, his arm draped over your waist, his face relaxed in sleep. You tried to slip out of bed, but as you moved, he tightened his hold, his eyes opening just a sliver. “Going somewhere?” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“I’ve got things to do,” you whispered back, though you were reluctant to move from the warmth of his arms.

“Stay,” he mumbled, pulling you back down, his head finding the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “Just a few more minutes.”

You rolled your eyes but settled back into his embrace, a soft laugh escaping you. Moments like these, the playfulness and ease, were what kept you coming back. And every time he brushed a kiss over your shoulder or laced his fingers with yours under the covers, it felt like he was daring you to let your guard down just a little bit more.

It was a pattern—casual, yet consistent. You never really talked about what you were doing, and maybe that was part of the appeal. There were no promises, no declarations, just the simple thrill of seeing him and the warmth of his company.

Then one night, at yet another party, you spotted him across the room, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw you. He excused himself from his conversation and strode over, his usual smirk in place.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” he teased, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you out of the crowded room, into a quieter hallway. His gaze dropped to yours, a familiar heat sparking between you.

“Oh, please,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m here because my friends dragged me out again.”

“Sure,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway and into a closet, closing the door behind him. Before you could say anything, he pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours, and the familiar thrill washed over you, as strong as ever.

“You know,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low, “I missed you.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, really?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, his lips grazing along your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re hard to forget.”

He kissed you again, his hands roaming over your waist, your body responding with the same intensity as if this had been brewing since the last time you’d seen each other. The kisses were heated, a rush of warmth and urgency, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the moment.

This was supposed to be just casual, just fun. But as you felt the way he held you close, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if memorizing every detail, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—this was starting to mean something more. For now, though, you were content to leave it unspoken, savoring each moment with him as it came.

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[wonsdoll]

SUNBURNT ── SJY

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── heavily suggestive + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ re—upload hehe !! my ogs remember this >_< ∿ ✦ more

THERE HE WAS... shirtless out in the sun on his front yard. you couldn't help but blush when you saw this abs glazed in sweat due to the heat. his black sunglasses rested on the bridge nose as he soaked in every bit of sunlight.

sim jaeyun, your handsome, flirty next door neighbor. ever since he moved into the neighborhood, he always found his way to be near you. it started with his soccer ball landed on your yard, he would knock on your door asking if he can come get it.

now there he was, laying on a towel; shirtless. you couldn't help but stare, watching him lay out in the sun. you continued to stare, making sure you weren't so obvious, or so you thought.

"hey pretty." you near jake call out.

"oh hey.. what're doing out on this humid day?" you casually played it off.

"just soaking in some sun you know? say, wanna help me out for a second doll?" he asks, creating a small pain in your chest.

his question makes your heart skip a small beat, you were hesitate; before agreeing without any second thought. "okay." you replied, walking over to his yard.

jake sat up in his spot, putting out a tube of cooling liquid. "do me a favor doll and rub this on my abs? i've got a really bad sunburn."

his question made your face flush mixes of red and pink, you didn't know what to say for a second. your hot neighbor wants you to rub a cooling liquid on his abs, he wants you to touch him.

"how come? why can't you do it?" you ask jake, curious as to why he would want you place your delicate hand on his skin.

"cmon doll, you have a soft touch. and not gonna lie it's burning me. would you do it? please pretty?" jake slightly begs, trying to not sound desperate; but also hide the pain of his sunburn.

you feel bad jake was suffering with a really bad sunburn, especially on a delicate place on his body. you pour some of the cooling liquid onto the palm of your hand, before sliding it onto jake's toned, tight, ridged abs.

you stopped as your palm hit his abs, rubbing his abs gently; allowing the cooling liquid to spread. a low groan left jake's lips.

"how's that?" you asked, wondering if your touch alongside the cooling liquid calmed down the burning sensation on his skin.

"thank you doll, i told you that you have a gentle and delicate touch." he bit his lip. "i should burn my abs more often." jake joked, a small laugh leaving his lips.

you playfully rolled "yeah yeah. i'll see you around jae." you began to walk back to your place, that was until jake called back for you.

"doll face, come back here."

you turned back, stepping foot back in his lawn. jake approached you more closer, his hands reached your waist; pulling you closer to him. his eyes met with yours, a flirty smile resting in his lips.

"how about a reward? for being such a good neighbor and helping me out."

"reward? what were you thinking?" you asked curiously.

jake paused, no words left his mouth; before his lips met with yours.

his tongue lapping on yours, his grip on your waist gaining tighter. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips crashed. his veiny hands make their way to the bottom of your tank top, caressing the small exposed skin available to touch. his hands made their way under your top, resting onto your lower back.

he pulls away from your lips, a small smirk on his face. "you're so gorgeous.. fuck" he groans before he kisses your neck, sending a rush of desire to you. "are you free later?" he asks, pulling away from your body slightly.

"well i'm going out with some friends later..." you replied, a slight frown falling onto jake's face as he hears your response.

"well cancel them doll, i need every minute i can get to savor every inch of that body." jake smirked, his hands finding its way back to your waist.

[alinedreams]

It's really hard to rupture with this when people are indoctrinated by it before they're even born.

From the moment the ultrasound exam is scheduled and reveals which baby parts the fetus is going to have.

From the moment the parents decide to throw a gender reveal party to expose which genitals their babies will have.

From the moment the baby showers are all about pink for girls and blue for boys.

From the moment of birth, where little girls have their little ears pierced and little intersex people are already mutilated into dyadistic ideals, obviously all without their consents, as they cannot yet consent.

From the moment they're still learning how to speak and walk and parents already want to indoctrinate them on which words are fine for boys or girls and even how differently they may walk.

From the moment they're in kindergarten and "little girls shouldn't get dirty" and "little boys hit girls because they like them".

From the moment they're a little bit older and "girls cannot climb up trees, you have to be feminine and wear dresses and boys can see your panties this way" and "put a little mirror on your shoes so you can see girls' panties; look upstairs when they're going up, that's also very funny".

From the moment they're preteens and "you're already a young lady, you should learn how to cook and clean your house and wear makeup and mature faster so men can date you" and "you're still young, just play games and enjoy life, women will do everything for you anyway, that's what they're born for, to serve us; you can date younger girls when you're older".

From the moment they're teens and "you're very mature for your age and there's no problem in dating older men who will teach you do be a proper wife, but make sure to take your pills so you don't get pregnant, but if you do, you'll raise those kids and get by just fine, all women are meant to be mothers anyway" and "you don't really need to worry about adulthood and fatherhood just yet, if girls get pregnant it's their fault for not taking care of themselves".

From the moment they're adults and "why aren't you married yet? the biological clock is ticking! nevermind he's not a good man who will hit you, maybe it's not your fault you're not a good wife for him, we're supposed to serve them. And if no one wants to date you, it's your fault for being ugly and undesirable and crazy and just not enough and too much at once!" and "women have an expiration date and we do not, you can date them young and throw them away once they hit 25, getting a younger girl. if you can't do it, you're an incel loser and it's women's fault for not realizing they're being played by older divorced men anyway, lol"

From the moment they're aging and "well, you're getting old, of course no man will want you! If you had kids, take care of your grandkids and hope your kids will take care of you. If you haven't, you'll die lonely and sad and homeless and no one will care because you deserve it!" and "well, you're aging like fine wine, go get some younger girls, they love older men, go spread your seed and tame some little rebels and get your coquettish and demure little tradgirls"

Up to the moment they're dead and others are like "She was a good mother and wife" or "She was a weird old hag who never got married and led a sad selfish life" and "He was a great man, very brave and cool and he got to bang all the hot girls" or "He was a curmudgeon weakling who never could get himself some good little woman to call his".

It's really darn hard to change when you're being hit with this brainwashing and critiquing nonsense from before you were born until after you're already dead.

And I've lost all hope to see it change, because it keeps rebranding itself as "self-care" and "true manhood" and "little jokes" and "the weak will die and be weeded out and you're not week" and so on.

It's inescapable, it's the one thing that might never end, not even after we're standing atop the smouldering ashes of Capitalism.

It's present in almost all societies, since almost the beginning of our species.

And, from the looks of it, almost no one WANTS it to end, no matter how much it makes them suffer.

Because having it end would make their delusional feelings of "I'm strong and superior and others are weak and inferior" or of "I'm good so I will be rewarded in the afterlife" crumble like it's a delicate sandcastle built out of lies.

So... Those who want to escape it will either have to endure being criticized and hurt or will have to just seek escape through death, be it by suicide or by being too noisy of a rebel to continue being let live.

Because, see, something that has been around since the beginning of times will HARDLY be collectively dismantled from night to day, if at all.

gen z has to reckon with its radicalization problem. you are not a morally pure and superior generation of youth come to save the world, your men and boys are radicalized at an unprecedented level and you ignore it because it’s too hard to address but you have to. these boys are in your classes, they date your friends, you know them and you cannot continue to pretend this is an “old white guy” problem

[dontbesoweirdkira]

There's just so much potential for platonic !yan Tim Drake that isn't really explored. This post may flop but I like to imagine that yan! Tim Drake is actually the worse out of all his brothers...

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Look...you and i both know that Tim is canonically unhinged. But Batsis!reader doesn't. It's so easy for you to forget that your brother Tim is so dangerous. I mean he doesn't really seem all that different from any other nerdy 19 year old. His body doesn't loom over you like the more bulky of your brothers, and his presence is rather...calming? I mean there's still a bit of uneasiness there but it's so subtle that you can brush it off

He's normal when he interacts with you. He doesn't bug you to spend time with him or uncomfortably touch you like Dick does. He is sweet and gentle...He knows how you prefer to be engaged with and respects what you don't like.

But, that's what makes him so dangerous. He knows you. Every. Last. Detail. He's gotten so good at being a nasty little fly on the wall that sometimes you forget he's even in the room. He's always around you, observing and collecting data. He's got you wrapped around his fingers and you don't realize it.

But it's not your fault. It's hard to even imagine that someone as mellow as Tim could ever share the same traits as his brothers.

Yan! Tim fully picked up just how intuitive you are and how you can spot red flags easily. He's so calculated and careful with every interaction. It's amazing how natural he makes these conversations flow. Well, they better. He's spent hours analyzing and practicing how to speak to you. His heart is pounding with anticipation, as every shred of information you give him is going right into his files on you.

Oh! The files he has on you? When Jason and Dick asked him about how many he had, he said only 4. Which is true. but those 4 files have much more information and pictures of you than they could comprehend. ...and he wasn't accounting for the hard drives and physical stacks of papers he stole. I believe Tim knows more about you than you do. When was the last time you've seen your medical records? Passports? Birth certificate? Is your ID even in your wallet? Don't worry, your brother Tim is keeping them safe for you.

Yan! Tim is a little stalker who may or may not have put a tracking/listening devices in your bag so he can keep tabs on you. <33 That's why he's always wearing headphones so he cab listen in. A small piece of missed information could cost him so much. Don't be mad, batsis! He cannot risk making you suspicious of him by asking you invasive questions so this is the only way.

I Like to think you automatically sit by him. whether it be during breakfast, watching a movie or in the car. You feel safer with him and it's a better option in your head than being with Dick who will be overbearing. Tim always acts cool, even a little annoyed by you at times but inside he's screaming. Your scent, your small smiles at him and nudge his shoulders when he makes a funny remark all send him into overdrive.

But i must say, it's exhausting for him to hold back his obsession all of the time. Sometimes he envies his siblings and how shameless they are in their obsessions. Tim Drake thinks about how great it would to be to just be hugged by you or for you to want to fall asleep on him like you do with Jason.

Sometimes, our creepy detective will slip up. He will say or do something that is odd to you

"I cannot remember the name of that song i used to listen to...what was it.."

"It's this one by that local band, sis."

"oh, yeah! wait...how did you-"

"I know you better than i know myself..."

"...what?"

*an incident happened where dick basically forced you to say i love you back. Tim was there and he was so so jealous*

"You love me the most though, right?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke\

"Sure, Tim. You are my favorite Robin."

*Tim is very visibly becoming feral. Almost in the same way as Dick and you are slightly alarmed*

"...I'm your favorite Robin? So you do love me more than them."

"0-o"

He repeats it over and over again in his mind. If he was recording it like he does with many of your interaction, it will be on instant replay every morning as an affirmation.

That one time you were chilling in the study with Tim. His head was ducked, low into the computer. It was super late by this time and you didn't really want to bother him so you ended up leaving without saying anything, and headed to your room. Tim was beyond hurt that you were breaking his version of bonding time and you had the audacity to not even announce your exit. He's so swift that it startled you when he grabbed your wrist from behind. His grip was....strong.... to say the least..... and he questioned why you were leaving him.

speaking of his strength, Tim is so skinny that you forget he is well trained with a nice bit of muscle. Maybe not as strong as his brothers or Bruce but he can easily subdue you.

He's definitely broken a lock or two, to get into your room at the dead of night and watch you sleep. This is the only time when he can be as fucked up as he wants to. The unhinged look in his eyes while going through your things and taking what's interesting..The adrenaline that you might catch him, excites him. He can't help but to sickly smile as he makes his way over to you and observes. A gentle hand caresses the sides of your face. You're so perfect. He whispers on and on things he wishes he could tell you while you were awake and wouldn't think it was weird....

Maybe even once he's crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. So happy to be able to finally be able to cuddle like this.

And if you happened to wake up, and realize your dear brother, Tim was there...he has a plan for that. He knows how to play mind games on you and makes you seem like the crazy one. No one would believe you anyways. The locks are all fixed by the morning.

[dollyhyuckii]

FALLING IN LOVE WITH MINGYU

mingyu! x fem!reader ⋆୨୧˚

wc—934 ⋆୨୧˚

cw-kissing, everything is lowercase on purpose ⋆୨୧˚

an-please remember make sure to vote!!(i really like how this came out so I hope you all enjoy! reblogs and likes really help!!) ⋆୨୧˚

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆

you and mingyu have known each other for years, and everyone always thought you two would make a cute couple. but you both always shrugged it off as just being “best friends.” one afternoon, as the two of you sit in the park, you catch yourself staring at him. you had no idea why, but your heart started racing, and your mind goes completely blank when mingyu looks over.

“are you okay?” he asks, smirking.

you stammers, “uh, yeah, i just… i don’t know why, but every time i look at you, my brain just kind of… blanks out.” you laugh nervously. “i think I’m going a little crazy.”

mingyu chuckles and nudges your shoulder playfully. “well, you’re always a little crazy.”

but your heart skips a beat, and you wonder if maybe it’s something more.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

that evening, you both were sitting at your kitchen counter, eating ice cream straight from the tub. mingyu tells a silly joke, one that’s not even that funny, but you finding yourself laughing. it’s a little laugh that catches you off guard, and you can’t help but shake your head in disbelief. how did he become so endearing?

mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “what’s with that sigh?”

“nothing,” you say, smiling softly. “you’re just…”

he raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but you just shake your head. you realized you couldn’t explain it without sounding ridiculous.

୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

a few weeks pass, and you and mingyu are walking home from a late movie. it’s one of those perfect nights, stars scattered across the sky. out of nowhere, you blurted out, “this is really awkward, but i know i told you i wasn’t looking for love… but i kinda fell in love.”

mingyu stops in his tracks, his eyes widening. “with… who?”

you shrug, playing it cool, trying to mask your embarrassment. ��i don’t know… maybe you?”

the look in his eyes softens, and you feel a flicker of hope. “well,” he says quietly, “maybe i’d take

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

the next time you both are together, your studying at a coffee shop. it’s one of those cozy, rainy days, and mingyu is buried in his book. you looks over at him, feeling your heart swell, and you suddenly blurt out, “can i love you?”

mingyu blinks, taken aback. he slowly looks up from his book, and a small smile plays on his lips. “i think… i’d really like that”

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

it’s a lazy sunday, and your both sprawled out on mingyu couch watching tv. you rests your head on his shoulder, feeling a surge of warmth you can’t explain. without thinking, you murmured, “i just… adore you.”

mingyu turns his head slightly, his face close to yours. he whispers back, “i adore you too.” you both share a quiet moment, neither of you needing to say anything more.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ you both decide to go on a spontaneous road trip. it’s late, and mingyu is yawning every few minutes as he drives. you notices his eyes drooping and says, “hey, pull over. i can take over for you.”

he looks at you, grateful but reluctant. “are you sure? you haven’t slept either.”

you nodded, determined. “i want you to be safe.”

as you drive, you glance over to see him sleeping soundly beside you. you smile, your heart fluttering at how peaceful he looks.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ back home, you tried to convince yourself that you were not really in love with mingyu. you mutters to yourself, “no, i’m not in love with him. i mean, yes, thinking about hurting him makes me want to throw myself into traffic, but that doesn’t mean anything, right?”

your friends laugh, but they knew deep down that  you were not fooling anyone, least of yourself .

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

one evening, your both watching a movie on your couch. you had fell asleep halfway through, your head drooping onto his shoulder. he smiles softly, reaching for the throw blanket nearby and draping it over you. he adjusts himself to make sure you were comfortable, realizing just how much he cares for you.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

one night, as you two were camping under the stars, you thought mingyu had

fallen asleep. you let out a sigh and whispered, “i think i might be in love with you, mingyu.” you feel a weight lift from your chest, assuming he can’t hear you .

but to your surprise, mingyu shifts and murmurs, “i might be in love with you too.” you freeze , your heart racing, as he reaches out to hold your hand.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

the next day, your back home, sitting on your porch. you both talk about everything and nothing, but somehow, the conversation drifts to the relationship. without thinking, you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow. when the both of you pull back, mingyu looks stunned.

you laughed nervously, stepping back. “um, okay. yeah, that’s not a normal kiss. i definitely love you.”

he grins, pulling you close again. “good, because i love you too.”

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

after months of tiptoeing around the feelings, mingyu finally calls you to meet at your favorite park. when you arrive, he looks nervous, fidgeting with his hands.

“i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this,” he says softly. i love you,. more than i ever thought possible.”

you feel tears prick in your eyes as you smile , stepping into his arms. “i love you too, mingyu. i think i always have.”

your friendship gradually blossoms into something more, filled with quiet, tender moments and unspoken confessions. and as you both walk hand in hand, you both realize that sometimes, the best love stories start as friendships.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

[luvtak]

fade into you, lmh

genre/tw est. relationship! suggestive, pure sugar cane fluff (like high fructose corn syrup fluff), minho only knows how to talk with his hands </3, gn!reader!! minho calls you kitty and honey <3!! seriously cavity inducing fluff be warned !! mostly unedited…

w/c 848

omg i haven’t posted a fic in so long nor have i written anything in months :(( but i’m finally a lot more settled after a busy drama filled couple of months! I hope you love this fic as much as i loved writing it. I’m not kidding when i say i wrote this in an hour on my phones notes app, don’t be afraid to tell me how you feel hehe 🩵

It’s cold outside your sleeping bag, frigid morning fog seeping into the once cozy tent. You shiver at Minho’s nose pressing into your neck, his face as cold as a dog who’s been outside too long. 

You’re not sure why you let your boyfriend convince you to camp in the middle of autumn… less sure why he insisted it was just the two of you, but you could never refuse Minho when he asked you so nicely— hands easing sighs while his mouth asked the question; the only thing you could say was yes, over and over. 

Unfortunately, the ecstasy of being asked was not akin to the actual experience.

Insistent rain stormed down from the second you arrived to the last minute before your eyes closed, Minho in all his excitement forgot the cooler and was forced to drive all the way back—leaving you to shiver in the tent alone. No, it was not the romantic getaway your boyfriend promised, but being here now—warm despite the wilderness’s wishes—you think it could be.

“Are you still cold, honey?” Minho asks, his voice just a whisper amongst the whistling trees. 

With your eyes still closed, you can only imagine what he looks like… Soft with sleep, his eyelashes cascading shadows across the slopes of his skin, beautiful like hypnos after creating dreams. You can feel his breath against your neck and his hands clutching at your waist, so safe despite how strong he is. 

“No, min, I’m just right” you say, and you can feel his laugh, rumbling through him, feel his smile against your skin. 

You wish he knew how much you cherish him… how much you treasure these little moments with him. How you’ll think about this moment every time he’s away from you; rolling the memory around your tongue like it’s a piece of candy. 

Sometimes, you’re sure you can see a cord running from you to him, wrapping around the two of you like cling wrap—like every moment you’ve ever had was crafted by the fates, your story weaved by the gods themselves. 

“Just right huh?” he says, before he’s lifting his head to look at you, eyes open and beautiful. “Well goldilocks, look how pretty you are this morning.” His smile is mischievous and if you didn’t know better you may think he was joking, but his tone gives him away: too quiet to be anything but the truth. 

“Minho!” you cry, embarrassed by compliments this early, “lay back down, I need you to keep me warm.” He smiles down at you, knowing you well enough to see that you’re flustered, it’s always too easy; one compliment, and your skin is hot, his kiss lasts a second too long and you’re pulling away shaking. 

Minho doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of making your blood rush, enjoying the chase even when he has you. 

When his skin gets closer to yours again, chest to chest/heart to heart, you find yourself breathing his air like you share one pair of lungs. He’s so close to you, searing your skin even as the sleeping bag pulls awkwardly around your legs, letting cool air settle around your figure. 

His lips are so close to yours, one breath away from a kiss, so close you can feel his words flow into your open mouth. 

“Are you warm now, kitty?”  he asks, his eyes boring into yours before flitting down to look at your skin; miles and miles of it under his hands, valleys of skin that are his as much as yours.

“I’m warm, Minho, are you?” Just a whisper.

“just right.” A smirk. 

One breath, two breaths, three, and then he’s kissing you. Lips urging gasps to flow out of you, hands grasping at his tension filled spine. You’ve shared many kisses, sweet and sultry, frantic and lust filled, but something about this hunger is foreign to you. 

His kiss is filled with wanting yes, but it’s almost like he’s trying to tell you something but forgot the words. His hands on your thighs urging you to listen, please please please understand, they say, clutching at the muscle like he’s afraid you’ll never know. 

But you do, and so do your lips and your hands and you try your hardest to speak his language; responding to every bite with a nip of your own, gasping when his hands ask, kissing away the sleep still in his eyes. You know what he’s saying, I love you, I’m sorry you’re cold, I’m sorry I made you come on this rain coated trip, I love you I'm sorry, I love you I love you.” 

Your boy, always so embarrassed to tell you how he feels, but never afraid to show you. 

When you pull apart, hands locked together still, eyes gleaming with an inside joke, a shared confession; you can see he wants to say something, see he’s trying to build the courage to split his heart open. Instead he flits his eyes up to the sky and smiles. 

Look honey, the suns coming out” 

And you understand. 

© LUVTAK 2024

[alchemistc]

I lied, that's not all:

Maddie has a full meltdown in the middle of Buck's kitchen when she sees it. He's married to his Google calendar, but as the pictures on the fridge went up, so too did the calendar, a gag gift Tommy had bought him the first time they wandered into an LGBTQ+ bookstore - shirtless, oiled men in ridiculous and sometimes painful looking outfits, a theme for each of the eighteen months in there. (Buck had gone back three days later and then used his newly minted spare key to Tommy's to hang the exact same calendar tucked in right above the rice cooker Bucks seen Tommy use more than any other appliance in his kitchen, three separate date nights already written in pen.)

Tommy blinks as Maddie bends to actually slap a knee, tears streaming down her face. When she makes full eye contact with him, she dissolves back into peals of bright laughter.

Tommy raises a brow. "I feel like your sister is being homophobic right now but I can't pinpoint why." He eyes this months oiled man - a firefighter, amusingly enough, or at least a guy with turnouts cleverly angled to hide anything too graphic in shadows, thick-thighed and holding a hose at an angle that would probably break his fucking wrist if connected to a water tank.

Buck taps last Saturday on the calendar with his knuckles, fights the red flush he can feel crawling up his ears. It'd felt a little silly, the first few times he'd done it, but the first time Tommy had caught a glimpse of Buck's blocky letters (KTw/T circled with a heart - &E just outside the heart, to avoid any confusion) he'd ducked his head and desperately fought back a grin while Buck whined about whatever joke Chim and Hen had made at his expense during his shift the day before. So. The date nights get written in on the calendar. Circled with a heart, like god intended.

"Well I know the hearts are a little lopsided, but that's no reason to lose your cool, Buckley-Han."

Tommy's pretty strictly a first-name-no-nicknames kinda guy, and Buck doesn't know the origins of this little in-joke between them, but it makes his heart do something funny every time Maddie throws back a wry 'Kinard' every time he does it.

"He - It's - Buck are you ki-?" She has to cover her mouth to avoid snorting, only half succeeds, and Buck is an expert pouter but he's half a second away from following her into the oblivion of ridiculous giggles. She sucks in a breath, presses a hand to her chest like that'll keep the laughter in. She blows the breath back out through her teeth like she's coming down off a panic attack. Tips her head to the side to stare at the hearts decorating Buck's weeks now.

Maddie tosses her hair over her shoulder, squints. "They are lopsided, aren't they?" and then she's off again, a snort escaping, a few sucked in titters, a hearty chuckle before she's wheezing and bending at the waist again.

Tommy pinches Buck's extended bottom lip between a thumb and forefinger, eyes dancing while the red creeps up Buck's cheeks and across his temples.

Buck writing all his dates with Tommy on a calendar on his fridge, circled with a heart.

DNw/T ♥️

That's all.

[half-oz-eddie]

I didn’t know I wanted you (Until I couldn’t have you)

Part 3/5

For the next 3 weeks, it had become nearly impossible for Buck and Tommy to have much free time to see each other.

And see each other, in Buck’s mind, is having one on one time with Tommy, without Eddie. Sure “hanging out with the boys” was fun and all, but there was a lighter element in the air when Buck was alone with Tommy. He couldn’t quite describe it, but sometimes, he preferred it, craved it, even. He could be sitting right next to Tommy during a beer and movie night with Eddie and still feel so far away from him.

The most interesting surprise for Buck was Tommy texting him during one of their movie nights.

They shared a glance, smiling at one another.

That’s really weird. I can’t say that!

Buck tucked his lips in, trying to contain himself. Tommy was sitting close by and he didn’t want him to see a big, stupid smile on his face.

When he briefly glanced up at Tommy, he was already looking his way. Buck shot him a half-smirk and a nod, and Tommy nodded back.

His heart was racing again.

Tommy’s really cool.

The next day, Buck and Tommy met for dinner and beers. They joked, they laughed, they had a great time.

“How’ve you been doing? I know you told me plenty about how Gerrard’s been treating you. You okay?”

“As okay as I’ll ever be. I miss Bobby. The energy of the 118 is…different now. I just hate it. I love my job. But I-I hate this feeling.”

Tommy nodded in understanding. “Sometimes change can be good, but sometimes change can ruin your day-to-day life. Especially when it’s a person single-handedly trying to make your life a living hell.”

“Exactly. That’s all he’s been doing for weeks.”

Tommy looked at Buck with soft, sympathetic eyes. His gaze felt like a comforting hug, and Buck couldn’t look away. He couldn’t resist the urge to just fall in.

“Evan…I know it’s not easy.” Tommy smiled. “But you’re doing great. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Buck broke eye contact, sheepishly looking away. “I-I just feel a little defeated sometimes.”

“I’m sure Bobby will get his job back sooner or later. It’s just the natural order of things. The 118 belongs together, right?”

Buck nodded in agreement. “Right!”

“Ready to get outta here and head to the theater?”

“Uh—yeah. Let’s go.”

After seeing a double feature of two amazing films Buck had never even heard of, Tommy rode with him in an Uber back to his place and Buck offered him a cup of coffee.

“Hey, so, Wednesday, you’re coming with us for drinks, right?”

Tommy sadly sighed. “Sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”

“A-a date?” Buck forced a smile. Why did this bother him so much? “Who’s the lucky person?”

“Just…someone I met during my run.” Tommy answered dismissively. “But maybe we can do something next weekend?”

Buck nodded. “Y—ah—yeah—yeah. Next weekend sounds great.”

“Great!” Tommy looked down at his phone. “My Uber should be here in 5, I’m gonna head down. Text you when I get home.”

“Okay uh…see you later.”

Buck held his breath until the door shut behind Tommy and he let out an exasperated sigh, shoulders drooping with disappointment.

He wasn’t sure what was bothering him, until he remembered what Tommy said at dinner.

Sometimes change can be good, but sometimes change can ruin your day-to-day life. Especially when it’s a person single-handedly trying to make your life a living hell.

Not that whoever Tommy was dating would intend to make his life hell in some way, but just the thought of spending less time with Tommy made him feel a loneliness he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Buck felt strangely about the way their conversation ended. He only had himself to blame for being so dismissive. He couldn’t fight the nagging thought that he had to fix it somehow.

Buck didn’t want the conversation to end. It was late, and surely they were both exhausted, but every second that passed, he felt like Tommy was slowly slipping away from him.

He hated this stupid thought. Tommy didn’t belong to him. Tommy was his friend. He was Eddie’s friend. He was everyone at the 118’s friend.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they shared a special friendship. One unlike the friendship he shared with everyone else. Buck was the only one Tommy wanted to take on weekly hiking trips. Buck was the one Tommy texted late at night to just talk and distract him from what stressed him out. In a way, Buck felt like Tommy was his.

And he was going to lose him.

[lovebunnie]

“it’s not about canon fucking capital!” nandor spits in the air between them. guillermos jaw drops a bit, and it all starts to feel like a bit of a sick joke to nandor. its never easy, not with guillermo.

he shifts and narrows his eyes. “being a janitor had its good moments,” nandor admits. “i liked being the barrier between the cleanliness of productivity and the filth of failure. also those paper towels were very powerful, they didnt even leave any streakies!

“but…” nandor lets his shoulders drop and he suddenly cant look at guillermo. “being around humans all day is kind of shitty.”

guillermo huffs. “trust me, hanging around vampires all the time isnt all its cracked up to be either. ya know, i spent so many years cleaning up shit and say what you will about panera but atleast cleaning toilets there got me a free pastry-“

“why do you always leave me?”

it shocks them both into silence. guillermos jaw clicks shut while nandor hunches his shoulders, as though he could curl away from his own confession. he was literally commanding an army, but here was where words failed him.

guillermo swallows. “leave you? im right here.”

“no you are not,” nandor hisses. “you are with celeste and then you are with derrick and then it is freddie and laszlo and now you are with jordan.” he steps forward, which makes guilermo step back. conquering lands, even here and now.

“why must you always leave? why do you want to leave, and why do i want you to stay? it was not like this with other familiars, ill have you know!”

nandor thinks about all the snide comments made by laszlo and nadja over the years. their familiars were always easy come, easy go. but guillermo was always there. he would misplace an ugly sock or leave his toothbrush in the open.

guillermo has always been different. guillermo has always been the exception.

it makes all the leaving he does very painful. nandor doesnt know why.

“other familiars don’t pledge almost half their lives to one master,” guillermo counters. “other familiars wouldve left a long fucking time ago.”

it takes everything in nandor not to shudder at being referred to as master by guillermo. “i dont give a shit about other familiars. not even my own old familiars. they were just… blips in the radar.”

“and me?” guillermo whispers, finally reclaiming the ground covered by nandor and placing them almost chest to chest. “fifteen years for a vampire doesnt seem like much of anything.”

“you were my purpose, guillermo,” he says. “to make you into a fucking cool vampire. and then you decided it wasnt actually what you wanted and after that annoying ceremony that i put a lot of hard work into, you wanted to leave again. so now i have no familiar, no purpose because you are not a vampire. i have nothing.”

guillermo stays quiet for many seconds and nandor can see his eyebrows twitching in thought. it had been so long since nandor has stood this close to guillermo so if nothing else, the proximity was a nice touch

“my purpose was to be turned into a vampire, by you,” guillermo says. “and then i realized it would never happen unless i did something, so i did. but it doesnt change the fact that i spent so many years knowing that i…” he swallows and to nandors delight, his cheeks turn crimson under shitty lighting. “i was meant to be yours, turned by you.”

“you are driving me crazy,” nandor says quietly. “i do not know why you keep leaving me and why i care so much. you really hurt me, you know! every time you leave it hurts!”

“i know why i keep leaving,” guillermo says. “and i think i know why you want me to stay so bad. the reasons are pretty similar, if i had to guess.”

“tell me,” nandor growls, his hands coming up to grip guillermos biceps so that he cannot flee, not again. “tell me.”

with the same drive behind the words that would compel weaker men, guillermo looks up at him, and before nandor can even think about speaking again, guillermo surges up and crashes their lips together with his hands tangled in nandors hair and knocking the head piece off in the process.

before it can even begin, guillermo pulls away. he is panting and then pulling a vibrating telephone out of his pocket. nandor watches with blazing eyes

“its jordan…” he trails off, looking thoughtful while nandor feels murderous.

a small smile creeps onto his face as the still vibrating phone goes back into his pocket. “but I’ve got better things to do.”

guillermo smiles at nandor and for once, he looks settled, not ready to bolt. nandor knows the same expression is reflecting on his face as well.

as he makes his move towards a willing guillermo, he hopes the camera crew is more engrossed with whatever antics nadja and laszlo and colin robinson have gotten into.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

can you compete? | pedri gonzalez

🎾 synopsis: You’re a young, rising Spanish tennis player focused on success. But focus is harder to keep when your condo neighbor happens to be Pedri González. He thinks you’d make a perfect team; you’re convinced he’s nothing but a distraction. warnings: light enemy-to-lovers vibes, fluff and mentions of alcohol consumption. (around 3.2k words)

part 1

It’s early morning in Barcelona, and you’re grateful for the quietness. These moments, the rare times you’re actually home, are precious to you. It’s just you, your racket, and the comforting rhythm of a tennis ball echoing off your condo’s shared court.

You’re midway through a rally with yourself when you sense him leaning against the gate. He’s watching – no, studying you. And he doesn’t bother hiding it.

It’s almost embarrassing how often you’ve been catching sight of him lately – like the universe is playing a joke on you. Every time you glance up from the courts or the gym, he’s there, flashing an annoyingly perfect grin at anyone who looks his way.

And everyone’s always looking.

You’ve heard all the stories, of course. That he’s a playboy, a heartthrob, the kind of guy who seems to walk into every room with his own spotlight. His type is trouble for someone like you, focused, aiming high. You don’t need a distraction that comes with a fan club.

But then, here he is, leaning casually on the chain-link fence at the edge of the court, watching you with a crooked smile that makes your pulse kick up. He’s not even pretending to play it cool, and that makes you want to hit your next serve a little harder.

“Trying to impress me?” His voice carries across the empty court, the hint of a challenge lighting up his eyes.

You roll your eyes, hoping he doesn’t see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Not everything’s about you, you know.”

He laughs, pushing off the fence and jogging over to where you stand. 

“Alright, fair, maybe I’m the one trying to impress you.”

“Don’t you have a game to train for?” you say, catching the ball mid-bounce, one eyebrow raised. 

“I’d rather watch you,” he replies, completely unbothered. It’s easy to see why he’s got a reputation: handsome, self-assured, carrying a charm that, by now, must be fine-tuned.

You roll your eyes, turning back to your practice, but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s hard to ignore the magnetic pull, the way he just… assumes. Like there’s no reason you wouldn’t feel the same spark he claims to see.

For him, it probably makes perfect sense – two rising stars, two athletes pushing the boundaries, both of you Spanish, both young, single and pretty. He probably thinks you’d make some kind of dream team.

But for you? You’re not sure you want the spotlight blending with your private life. Yet here he is, waiting, watching.

You toss the ball up for another serve, ignoring the way his presence makes the air feel charged. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter that he’s watching, that your focus is on the court. But when you glance over and he’s still there, a spark of determination flickers through you.

You could show him, really show him, what focus looks like.

“Want to join?” you call over, keeping your tone nonchalant.

His eyes widen a fraction, surprised at your invitation, but then he grins, crossing the court toward you. “Think you can handle it?”

You don’t bother replying; you just toss him a spare racket and settle into position. His confidence doesn’t faze you. You know your game, and as he takes his stance, you can see he’s trying to match the intensity in your eyes.

The rally begins, and it doesn’t take long to feel the rhythm of the game settle into place. He’s athletic, fast, clearly used to dominating on a field, but it’s different here. On the court, you know how to control each swing, each movement, the pace building until he’s panting, chasing after shots that hit just out of reach.

He misses a return, and you catch a quick, surprised look flashing across his face. It’s almost funny. 

“You’re really good,” he says, breathless, as he jogs back to his position.

You shrug, adjusting your grip on the racket. “Didn’t think I’d have to go easy on you.”

His laugh is loud, echoing around the empty court. “Alright, I get it. No mercy, then.” He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and when you serve again, he’s throwing himself into every swing with even more energy, trying to keep up.

You keep pushing, refusing to let him break your concentration, but there’s something amusing about watching him struggle to meet your pace. The confidence he wore so easily when he first arrived is slowly giving way to real effort. A few more rounds, and you can tell he’s getting frustrated – and determined, his movements sharper, his brow furrowing as he chases down each shot.

But then, he misses again, his racket slicing through air, and he doubles over, panting. 

“Okay, I admit it,” he says between breaths, grinning up at you. “You’re better than I thought.”

“Thanks,” you say, barely out of breath, relishing the look on his face. You’re both laughing, the tension between you feeling easier now, almost natural.

And then he pulls his shirt over his head, wiping his face as he does, revealing a torso that’s as infuriatingly perfect as his smile. He catches you glancing, and his smile widens, clearly pleased with himself.

“Trying to distract me?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it working?” he shoots back, his voice full of playful arrogance as he drapes the shirt over his shoulder.

You shake your head, scoffing, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. You’re still not interested in the distraction, but you can’t deny he’s entertaining to have around.

“I’m Pedri, by the way.” He finally introduces himself, sticking out a hand.

“Yes, I know,” you reply, just barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “And you know who I am too, don’t you?”

He nods like he’s pleased you called him out. "Of course I do. Hard not to know."

It’s strange, though – after all the crossed paths and stolen glances, this is the first time you’ve actually exchanged names. His hand is warm when you shake it, and there’s an easy confidence in his grip.

“It's funny, right? Somehow, we never got around to introductions,” Pedri says.

You shrug, pulling your hand back. “Guess it didn’t seem necessary.”

“Or maybe you were avoiding it,” he teases, letting his eyes linger just a bit longer than usual. “Hard to get close to you, isn’t it?”

“I’m just here to train.”

His laughter fills the empty court. “Yeah, I noticed that,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “And I thought I worked hard.”

“Some of us don’t rely on charm alone,” you counter, tossing the ball up for another serve.

He watches, and though his expression is playful, there’s something else in his eyes – an understanding, maybe, or a spark of recognition. You might both play different sports, but in some way, he seems to get it: the drive, the endless hours, the need to push yourself to the edge.

For a second, he’s just another athlete, a competitor with the same fire you have.

Then he breaks the silence. “Maybe I’ll have to start coming to the court more often. Could use a rival like you.”

“Or someone to keep you humble,” you add.

part 2

You didn’t expect to see him here, not like this, face flushed and bright from a few too many drinks, eyes lighting up the moment you step into the room. You’re barely through the door when Pedri spots you; he makes his way over, steady but just a little wobbly, and you brace yourself for whatever antics he might have up his sleeve tonight.

“Hey, superstar,” he greets you with a dramatic flair, slinging an arm over your shoulder like he’s known you forever. “You’re late.” He says it as though he’s been waiting all night just to see you, like maybe his whole night’s been on pause until now.

Your friends exchange looks, hiding laughs, but Pedri doesn’t notice. He’s too busy guiding you toward the kitchen, asking if you’ve eaten yet, if you need a drink, if you’re “sure those heels are comfortable” because they look way too high. He’s eyeing them like they’re an injury waiting to happen.

“Careful,” he says, putting a hand on your elbow as you step over a stack of cups. “Don’t need you twisting your ankle, okay? They’re valuable assets to Spain.”

Turns out your friend who’s turning 21 today is actually a mutual friend, and Pedri makes sure to explain that detail to you, like he’d hoped it would be his ticket to seeing you here tonight.

You’re not usually one to drink, but come on, tonight is your close friend’s birthday party, it feels impossible to say no. And a couple of drinks? What’s the worst that could happen? It’s almost the end of the year, and the seasons have been bleeding together – match after match, the endless bounce of the ball inside those white lines. You’re not quite at burnout, but you’re close enough to feel it hovering around the edges. So you let yourself have a little fun.

After a couple of drinks, you’re as drunk as everyone else in the room, feeling light and fuzzy. And suddenly, Pedri makes all the sense in the world. You’re both nestled together on the couch, close enough to feel the warmth of his arm draped around you, the noise of the party fading in the background as you both look at each other like the world just zoomed in on you two. For anyone outside, it’s a ridiculous sight.

Pedri leans close, his mouth just by your ear. “Do you need water? I’ll get you some water.” His voice is earnest, like he’s on a mission, and before you can respond, he’s up, making his way across the room in a slightly unsteady line.

The moment he’s gone, your friends are on you, smirking and whispering. “Oh, he’s definitely into you,” one of them laughs.

You roll your eyes, trying to downplay the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “He’s like that with everybody,” you murmur, brushing it off just as he returns.

“Not everyone, no,” he meets your eyes with a seriousness that catches you off guard. “Just you.” he says, his words drenched in sincerity. And it might have been more meaningful if he didn’t almost drop the glass of water as he tried to hand it over.

You laugh, steadying the glass in his hands. “Maybe you need this more than I do,” you tease, guiding the water to his lips and watching as he drinks.

“Let’s get you some fresh air,” you say, placing a steady hand on his back as you guide him outside the party.

Outside, the night air is cool, and you’re both silent for a moment, just letting it clear your heads. Then, Pedri leans against the wall, hands in his pockets.

"I haven’t been to one of these in a while," he admits, glancing around.

"You mean a party?” you laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he says, his tone soft but serious. “I’ve been working hard, trying to stay in good shape. And when I found out about tonight, I just thought... well, I’d probably get a chance to see you here. I figured it was worth coming. Then you didn’t show up for a while, and I thought, okay, maybe I’ll have a few drinks and head home. And now… now I’m half-drunk and probably made a complete fool of myself in front of you.”

You feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. His confession hangs between you, and for a second, it’s almost too much. You’re not ready for this – at least, not tonight.

“I know what it’s like, not having time for parties or friends,” you say, looking anywhere but at him. “I’m just… I’m just glad we’re getting to have fun tonight.”

He’s quiet for a beat, and when you finally look back at him, there’s something unreadable in his gaze – a hint of disappointment, maybe.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding slowly, his smile dimming a little. “Me too. I’m glad we’re both here.” He straightens up, brushing the moment aside. “Do you want to go back inside? I think I’m feeling better now.”

Inside, Pedri keeps his distance, giving you space to be with your friends. There’s a subtle shift in him, like he’s taken a small step back, maybe a little hurt by how you brushed off his words earlier. But even with the room he’s given you, your eyes keep finding him across the crowd, drawn back to him.

As the party winds down, your sober friend offers to drive you both home. You and Pedri are tipsy, giggly, and hushed into the back seat, his shoulder pressing against yours. Every little bump on the road sets you both off into laughter over nothing in particular, the comfortable kind of closeness you wouldn’t have allowed at the start of the night.

When the car pulls up in front of your place, you both stumble out, waving goodbye to your friend as they drive off. Pedri follows you to your door, hands in his pockets. There’s a quiet pause between you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter, warmer.

Without much thought, you lean in, ready to end the night with a kiss. But he puts a hand up, stopping you gently.

“No, wait,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck, glancing down before meeting your eyes again. “I want to do this right, you know? Take you on a real date.”

You blink, surprised, his words taking a second to sink in. He stands there looking different somehow – uncertain in a way that’s almost too sincere.

“Why?” you ask, brushing off your own awkwardness with a smile. “What if I don’t feel the same way tomorrow?”

He laughs, but there’s determination in his words. “Then I’ll ask you tomorrow. And we’ll see.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s playing some long game or if he actually means it. But tonight, you decide not to question it. You nod, turning your key in the door, and before stepping inside, you shoot him a small smile.

“Goodnight, Pedri,” you say, not entirely sure about what comes next.

part 4

The court feels different this morning. Usually, it’s your escape – a place where everything falls into rhythm. But today, every bounce of the ball feels heavier, slower. You keep glancing toward the gate, distracted, wondering if he’ll actually show up. The fact that you’re even hoping he will surprises you.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you catch sight of him. He’s lingering at the fence, scanning the court with a nervous edge before his eyes settle on you. There’s a hesitation in his expression you haven’t seen before. It’s a strange look for him.

You’re sweating from practice, and as soon as you realize how out of breath and flushed you must look, a wave of self-consciousness hits. You’re suddenly aware of every strand of hair stuck to your forehead and every patch of dampness on your shirt. Not exactly how you pictured this moment, but there’s no backing out now.

“Hey,” he says, stepping onto the court with a tentative smile.

“Hey,” you reply, doing your best to keep it casual as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he glances around like he’s never been on a court before. “I told you I’d show up.”

You both fall silent for a second, and it’s almost...awkward. He’s usually so confident, but today there’s something different – a softness, maybe even a hint of uncertainty. Like he’s trying to gauge if you’re still open to this, whatever this is.

You hand him the spare racket, and he takes it with a sheepish grin. “Promise you won’t be too hard on me?”

“No promises,” you tease, falling into an easy rally.

As you both start hitting back and forth, the tension loosens, replaced by a comfortable rhythm. He’s not half bad, but you’re still making him chase the ball from one end of the court to the other. It’s fun watching him struggle, laughing every time he stumbles but refusing to give up.

“Wow,” he says, catching his breath, “This is... intense.”

You shrug, laughing. “Or maybe you’re just out of shape.”

He shakes his head, laughing along. But then he stops, staring at you for just a second too long.

“You should go on a date with me.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “A date?” You toss the ball lightly in your hand, trying to keep your composure.

“Yeah.” He nods, his eyes not leaving yours, searching for your reaction. “I know I’m probably out of my league here, but I thought it was worth a shot. Just one date.”

There’s something disarming about his honesty. You hadn’t expected this level of sincerity from him, especially not after the way he usually carries himself. You bounce the ball again, the motion a nervous habit. “What makes you think you can keep up with me?” you ask, attempting to sound playful.

He laughs, reaching up to catch the ball mid-bounce. “I’m tougher than I look,” he says, holding the ball out to you, but when you reach for it, he keeps it just out of your reach, a playful challenge.

“Oh, I see,” you say, trying to swipe it from him, but he pulls back, chuckling.

In the end, you stop reaching. You pause, crossing your arms, your heart racing. “Okay,” you say finally, surprising yourself with your willingness. “One date.”

His eyes light up with delight, and the earlier hesitation fades. “So, are you going to let me kiss you after the date?” you ask, half-joking, remembering how he held back after the party.

He gets serious for a second, then breaks into a big smile. “You can kiss me right now if you want!”

You laugh nervously, hyper-aware of the sweat on your skin. “I don’t know… I feel kind of gross right now.”

He shrugs, totally unfazed. “I really don’t mind at all.”

The sincerity in his voice cuts through your self-consciousness, and before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and press your lips to his. 

The kiss is sweet and a little messy, but honestly? It’s everything you didn’t even know you needed. It’s like a light switch flipped on, sparking something deep inside you. For that moment, the whole world outside the court just fades away. His lips are soft, and there’s this warmth spreading through you, making you forget all about the awkwardness from just a second ago.

When you pull back, you’re both breathless, caught in the moment, and the connection is still buzzing between you. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe what just happened, and it’s kind of adorable watching him process it all. You can’t help but smile back at him. Seeing him distracted, you reach for the tennis ball in his hand. “See you on our one date, then.”

He just stares as you walk away, surprise and delight flickering across his face. “Hey, you can’t just run off with that!”

You laugh and give him a cheeky wave over your shoulder as you head off.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 6

James Potter x Reader

Summary: Your secret admirer is not so secret anymore…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, idiots in love, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and presents femininely, James is head over heels in love, quiet!reader, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.6K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A cool air occupied the Astronomy Tower, gusts of gentle breeze slipping in and out. A picnic blanket lined the floor, visible under the soft glow of an assortment of candles lit in the room. On it sat a basket of food, sweets, and a bouquet of flowers with your name on it.

It was all going smoothly, in fact, James would argue it was perfect. He had planned this night years ago, making the first date comfortable and private but still a solid display of just how much he’s willing to give you.

Wearing his crisp button down tucked into some black slacks, messy hair somewhat managed with a comb, and a bubbling feeling of nerves and excitement, James stood at the top of the stairs and waited.

The soft press of heels to concrete echoed up the staircase, slowly approaching the top of the tower. You rounded the final corner, immediately beaming at the boy stood waiting for you. Your subtle makeup shined in the candlelight as your dress fit you in all the right ways.

“He’ll go feral when he sees you,” Charlie had joked when you were getting dressed.

She might have been right.

James’ heart caught in his throat, holding out an arm for you to grasp as he escorted you across the short distance to the blanket. “You look so amazing, I mean…you’re just so perfect,” he praised, gaze tracing your figure like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “Thank you, Jamie, so do you,” you grinned in reply, standing close and peering up at the bashful boy in front of you.

He helped you to the ground as he began to pull out an assortment of food and drink. “I knew some of the things you like already, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough…so I kind of just bought the whole of Hog’s Head,” he explained with a nervous laugh, sitting on his knees to reach further into the basket and present even more food.

“Oh, Jamie, I…this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me! And probably the most food anyone’s ever given me as well,” you giggled, glancing around the space in awe at the atmospheric romance.

“I’m sorry if it’s too much, I just- Sirius says I’m always such a hopeless romantic,” he rambled bashfully in reply, “I hope you like it, love.”

He started to make you a plate of all your favourite foods, adding a few new dishes too. He poured you some butterbeer before serving himself, rarely looking away from you. His heart was on fire, lit alight by his sheer magnetic attraction to you. He knew his younger self would be beaming to know he actually finally got to sit like this with you, alone with the stars and a candlelit dinner. He was in heaven.

The quiet sounds of eating consumed the room, both of you meeting each other’s gaze at a particularly loud crunch of food under teeth. You both burst out laughing, falling over yourselves as you finally relaxed into the date.

“So, quick question,” James began after finishing half of his plate, “the other night, when we confessed, you said I was surprisingly kind?”

“I did, and you are,” you replied, covering your mouth full of food as you looked at him curiously.

“Well, I was just wondering…why did you find that surprising? Have I ever done anything to make you think otherwise?”

You thought over your answer, swallowing your mouthful. After a beat, you responded. “I suppose I only really knew you for your pranks, outside of classes and common room parties. The early stuff was never concerning, I mean, I found it quite funny the way you’d give bullies a taste of their own medicine. But I suppose as the years went on, and the pranks got harsher, and the targets became more innocent, I started to believe you were sort of…mean.”

James glanced at you with an embarrassed smile. “Oh…right…yeah that makes sense. We, uhh- had our reasons for hexing people, but I suppose it’s been pretty harsh recently…” James was bright red, biting his lip and glancing at the floor. You did the same, resuming eating as the boy’s face cooled down.

“Do you remember that Slytherin boy last year? The one in the year above who tried to chat you up at dinner?” You stopped chewing, raising your eyebrows. “Yeah, I do actually…what about him?”

“Well, do you remember his hair turned bright green the next morning…?”

A moment passed in awkward silence. Then, “James! You hexed someone over me!?” Your jaw was slack, and James refused to meet your gaze. “He was being too pushy…besides, I thought you might’ve liked him and, well, I was pretty upset that night. Sirius just decided to…cheer me up,” He explained cautiously.

You snorted, covering your mouth to conceal a laugh. Soon James was laughing too, mostly from relief that you found his infatuation amusing.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A few butterbeers later, you were sitting close and leaning towards each other, whispering about your interests like they were the best kept secrets on earth.

“I didn’t think I really belonged in Gryffindor when I was sorted,” James began, “I thought I wasn’t self-assured enough to fit in. I think over the years I just developed an act of cocky confidence to hide that insecurity.”

You gazed at the boy in affection, basking in similarity. “I thought the exact same thing, though I didn’t show any real bravery until I decided to investigate your little letters this year,” you giggled in reply, “We have so many expectations to live up to under this house. Although, I think it’s the same for every house.”

James hummed in agreement, smiling as he inched slightly closer to you, brushing your hand with his. When you didn’t immediately flinch away and smack him, he moved his hand over yours as you intertwined your fingers with his. You sat in comfortable silence, gazing at each other with shy adoration, before continuing your conversation.

“What do you want to do after school?” You asked, still staring at the boy with a soft blush. “I want to be an Auror, protect the people I love. I’m getting relatively good grades in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I might have to convince my parents that it’s not too dangerous,” he laughed while beaming down at you. You smiled, opening your mouth to respond before-

“I also want to spend my future with you.”

The words came with a dousing of flustered rambling, James forcing himself to hold your gaze despite the growing heat in his face. “I really, really do,” he emphasised.

The Astronomy Tower made the two of you feel like the only people left on Earth, blocking out any other sign of life on the romantic evening. You were lost in thought.

Your breath hitched when you finally noticed how close James was, nervously glancing between your eyes and lips. You mirrored his movements, leaning towards him with a final glance at his eyes, illuminated by a golden glow.

After years of pining, wishing and waiting, he pushed his lips on yours. The kiss started soft and slow as James hesitated the urge to deepen the connection, something you then initiated. Your lips locked with his in a firm display of passion and affection, hands moving to his hair and reversing the hard work of his comb. His hands trailed down your sides to rest on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

James hummed against your lips, forcing a smile down as to not break the kiss. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of, the taste of butterbeer lingering as your lips melted against each other.

After what felt like hours, you finally parted to take a breath. James was bright red and grinning ear to ear, glasses askew on the tip of his nose and hair messier than ever. He pushed up his glasses before returning his hand to your waist, looking down at you as if you were the solution to eternal happiness.

The goofy expression finally melted off of his face, now staring at you with a lovestruck glint in his eye and a soft smile as he drew little patterns on your waist with his fingers.

Silently, you both laid back against the blanket, staring at the stars that were scattered across the sky.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

After an hour of whispering sweet nothings under the night sky, lying on James’ chest as he rubbed soothing circles into your back with the palm of his hand, he sat up with a grunt.

You were drunk on the feeling of stolen kisses and sweet talk, gazing hazily at Gryffindor’s head boy as he reached into the picnic basket.

From the woven wood emerged a baby blue envelope, your name scrawled on the front in that familiar, boyish hand.

You joined him in sitting up from the blanket as he held the letter out to you, along with the bouquet he had bought especially for this moment.

You stared curiously at the letter, plucking it from his hands and placing the bouquet in your lap, quietly thanking him for the gesture.

You carefully peeled open the letter, peering into its depth. Pulling your final love letter from its fold, you slowly laid the page open.

“Be mine?

- Forever yours, J.P.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: YAYYYYYY!!! I’m planning on writing one more chapter about these two during the early years, before wrapping it up with some fluffy relationship goodness <3 I’m also starting one for James fic and a few miscellaneous characters!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Tag List: @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @caspiankingofnarnia @thesuitelifeofafangirl @moonydoodlez @fionnalopez @kawaiiarbitervoid @kc2sstuff @rafeyswrd @mads12043 @spicybearnaise @ch3rry-vine @probabydeadbynow @ilovejamespottersomuch @mqg125 @sofiacblair @valenftcrush @revesephemeres @louweenier @the-lavender-girl

[inor-8]

Regarding Lily's top 20 Pokemon video:

Ok so I've already made a few posts about Lily's God awful video but man do i have a lot to say. So I'm gonna make a bigger post about it.

That being said all her favourites are valid. I have no hate for her favourite Pokemon as everyone is allowed their own opinions. And as I've said every Pokemon is someone's favourite.

I, however, have problem with her jabs at other Pokemon or people who like them.

So....

Number 20: Ampharos

Ok so her reasons for liking Ampharos aren't anything out of the ordinary. It's cute, it's powerful. I honestly love Ampharos too, I used it in Soulsilver and it's pretty strong and available early on.

However, she says she wishes it was as popular as Pikachu. To which I say, keep dreaming Lily. I'm sure it's just a joke though along with that one joke about choosing Chikorita. We all know Totodile is the best.

Number 19: Flygon

And she starts it off by saying that it's the only one that's a valid dragon type. No! No! No! Every other dragon is valid (Yes, Even Alolan Exeggutor)! I support and love Flygon but that doesn't mean it's the only one that's valid!

Then she goes a bit into it's design lores which I appreciate. (Flygon is based on an Antlion but also draws inspiration from dragonflies btw)

Now, my problem with this segment is that she shits on Salamance??? Like, sorry Flygon isn't as popular but how is it Salamance's fault?! Bro just want to fly that's all!

I don't understand this woman's problem. I think she wants her favourite to be everybody else's favourite too. And it isn't as if Flygon is some obscure or forgotten mon, it's actually a pretty beloved Pokemon in the community. People love the whole Trapinch line actually. But I guess she's salty about Flygon not getting a mega. Well a lot of us are but we don't go shitting on other mons and calling them edgy.

Well, I think that would be my thoughts for this segment. Praying for you to get a Mega in Z-A Flygon, you deserve it for being such a good boy.

Number 18: Salazzle

You're never beating the gooner allegations, Lily.

That being said there's nothing worth mentioning in this section. She just says everything she likes about it and mentions she doesn't like how the internet got wierd with it. But who are you kidding, look at her design. They knew exactly what they were doing.

Number 17: Heracross

Nothing to mention here. Valid as hell take, to be honest. I also love female Heracross' heart horn.

Number 16: Cacturne

Ok so the Cacturne section was pretty chill too. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for her complains about Tim Burton which I have no comments on. I've never watched a Tim Burton movie.

Still I'm surprised how she missed the scarecrow motifs in it's design.

Number 15: Haunter

Ohhh looks like someone is salty about not getting a Gengar!

In this she pretty much complains about how gengar isn't valid and it's design is bad and stuff. We get it Lily nobody wanted to trade with you as a child. We wouldn't want to either. Next!

Number 14: Crawdaunt

Ok so this is where one of my major problems with her start. In this segment she starts shitting on gen 1 designs and saying how GameFreak took gen 1 designs and made them more elegant in gen 3 because they looked edgy.

Like noo? What the hell is your problem with gen 1 designs Lily? Why do you hate them? I think she likes shitting on them because she thinks it makes her sooo different and sooo cool.

A point which she proves by saying how unconventional she is for using Crawdaunt as her physical attacker instead of garchomp or gallade or the fire fighting starters. Ohhh you like using Crawdaunt? Never heard of that one before! You're so cool and different, Lily. Soooo not like other girls!

Number 13: Omastar

What happened, Lily? I thought you hated the edgy gen 1 designs? Yeah, it's okay when you do it but not others? Rules for thee, but not for me, huh?

Number 12: Nidoking

Nothing to note here honestly.

Number 11: Aegislash

And now she's getting salty that it got banned in gen 7 ou blaming it on some pety smogon admin. Like No Lillian not everyone is like you. There are people who take their job of maintaining balance and keeping the game fun seriously. I'm sure you would have done that if you were a smogon admin though.

And then she complains about shinies. Saying how black shinies like Charizard and Mega Gardevoir suck. Well fuck Lily what's your deal with people enjoying shinies.

Also hot take (not really), black shinies are cool as fuck. There's a reason they're so popular and no matter how overrated you think Charizard is, it still has the best shiny among gen 1 starters

Now I think I'll only be covering half in this post because you're only allowed to include ten images apparently.

[feroluce]

Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're all in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

And Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

[acatwithstockings]

Could you please, please tell me everything about the 1990's Good Omens (very bad) Movie script? you mentioned not being able to taIk about it because no one is interested (which I very much relate to, but in just basically anything Good Omens related) I was not there for when it was leaked, so I'd really like to know like... all of it (I promise I am so interested, and also very very obsessed with Good Omens. I'll absolutely be your captive audience.)

the only things I think I know are that Crowley's mean and has a nightclub, and Aziraphale has a museum(??). and it's in America??

You don't know how happy it just makes me ramble on about that one. Could write a whole essay tbh (I try my best not bc my spelling is atrocious pff ).

Only snagged it myself after a whole year of searching when it got put up on Dropbox for a few hours. Got taken down quickly again. Idk if it was bc of a copyright claim or if the owner took it down themselves bc it isn't supposed to be spread around due to said issues and they (not quite so cleverly) posted the Link on a post that would make it especially easy for the copyright holder to find it. At any rate, I Got really lucky in that regard. The copyright issues around this thing are fascinating in general and could make for a great study in regards to the flaws of that system.

As for the script contents... Well it's something.

Yes Crowley is mean it would be wrong to reduce that version of him to that. (I will try and point out why later). Yes he owns a nightclub, the aptly names hellfire on a hill(? Idk enough about british topography to know if that's a hint towards a real part of town or just bc the visual of it being on a hill is cool ) in London. So It does not play in America and Aziraphale is working at the British museum. Canon explanation why they try everything and anything to not give back the artefacts they stole, I suppose. (That was a joke. In the script itself it isn't even as much as mentioned that our favorite angel has any interest in collecting anything, missed opportunity if you ask me)

In general the whole thing plays out extremely differently from the story we all love. And sadly lacks the Prattchian humor... For obvious reasons. It does have it's moments tho not many but they are there. ( "Crowley un-snakes" will never not be funny)

What follows is a lengthy summary which will have a bit of analysis and personal interpretation mixed into it . Bc who needs good struktur if you can do stream of consciousness? Am I right?

We begin with the protagonist Crowley and Aziraphale, who in this version sadly takes a bit of a backseat, playing checkers in Aziraphale's study. In this version they are color coded with pure white clothing and hair and pure black clothing and hair. Crowley remarks that 'everything is going too well'. To which Aziraphale points out, that complaining seems to be a favorite past time of the demon. He has a knack for putting down/dismissing Crowley on basis of being a demon (" Oh, isn't that just like a demon? Six-thousand years and all you do is complain") in this version and it's part of his ark , kinda.

It looks like Aziraphale is about to win Crowley however, uses the cliché 'Lock over there' trick to cheat. In the following dialogue we learn that they have been playing one checkers match a week for the past six thousand years. So basically it's presumed they played their first match in Eden before checkers was even invented. (Then again the stage direction describes a painting depicting Crowley as green snake wearing sunglasses in Eden, so they just have been trend setters from the start) . They then set a date for their next match, Crowley makes his distaste for earth known, they meet Aziraphale's assistant Polly, who is very unimpressed by Crowley and then he is off not without causing some mischief with a stolen wallet.

Aziraphale gets a little scene where he is appraising a painting for its authenticity. He gets called 'bramy as a box of fruit bats' and tells the ones that brought the painting that if it were real, he'd know bc he would have seen the master paint it. The interesting thing here is that this scene essentially is there to show us that despite not acknowledging Crowley's cheating or directly calling out the forgery and its purpose (to gain money), even calling it pretty, he knows what's going on he simply chooses to play/be aloof .

Next we get introduced to the nightclub. Nothing much Happens here at first except that we get introduced to the Barstaff. Or well at least Tina (my love) the barman. As it seems Crowley is managing a successful business and outside of a little rant, calling people sheep and wanting bigger cocktail umbrellas, he genuinely seems to be competent in his leadership and friendly to his staff. Knowing them by name .

Other notable staff members are Warren, I think he has one line and is the handyman/security of the nightclub and Marjorie who gets a few more lines and is part of the waitstaff. Who by the way are put in full body imp costumes bc of course the nightclub is themed after hell.

Crowley then contacts hell, where he ultimately gets told that Satan himself has a special task for him. And we get the first clue that Crowley who so far has given us very cool very early 90's style Anti"hero' is scared shitless. Not just that hell thinks he is a bit of a loser, not being impressed by his mission reports and all.

We then get to the good old Hyde Park scene with nearly drowned drake safed by Aziraphale's intervention and everything. What is interesting here however is, is that Crowley is a full blown nihilist and Aziraphale just very over enthusiastically positive. Aziraphale saying a woman is doing something good by giving her ice cream to a child while Crowley points out that the ice had first been dropped to the ground and been liked by a dog. (Script! Aziraphale as much as I love you but I am with script! Crowley on this one). Aziraphale points out that that hardly matters because the child is happy and that makes it a good deed. Crowley snarkily points out that Happiness is a stupid metric for good things and says he likes one thing about humans : that they are reliable in doing the selfish bad thing.

Aziraphale then tries to then get Crowley to reveal why things are going to well. Crowley points out that they are enemies and he shouldn't give out that information despite the arrangement (sadly we don't get more information about that but I would love to know how it looked in that universe) and only is convinced by Aziraphale being hurt about it and giving him sad puppy eyes. Crowley then invites Aziraphale over to his nightclub after hours to talk about it what head office actually wants from him.

We then jump to the nightclub again. Crowley is surpassingly decent towards people, Tina is managing the club. And Madam Tracy is making an entrance. In this version she is an slowly aging out of it IT-girl. It's implied that she had a multitude of affairs and that she has now been payed off big time. (I enjoy Madam Tracy in this version a LOT). She never seems to be quite there but still own any situation.

Her and Crowley have a little conversation that gets broken up when he decides to deal with a Troublemaker at the bar instead of letting Warren take care of it. (Side note that part of the script gave me the HC that script! Crowley is very short, definitely shorter than script!Aziraphale) . He is having a full blown Anime protagonist moment, including using the bribe the trouble maker gives him to give to the Waitress the Troublemaker had harassed in a very cool™ manner and stopping a punch with one hand. Just believe me it's very anime. But again Crowley seems to be actual decent boss, believe it or not.

He then gets a Call in the bathroom . Satan talking to him through the mirror without prior notice. He orders Crowley to get to a graveyard within 30 minutes. Crowley is keeping it together but he is panicking. He is having a short conversation with Tracy again in which he stays relatively friendly surpassingly enough.

Fun fact this whole film would have had "Every day' as musical theme. Bc from this moment the song gets mentioned continuously.

After a speeding and vandalizing a cop car out of desperation since he is late and they determined to stop him we get to meet satan. In this version he is a cold calculating (but very cool) business man . Crowley in German we'd say 'legt sich erstmal ordentlich auf's maul' (meaning he trips and falls on the ground). He is groveling before him, bootlicking and trying to appease his Master (for real tho if that movie would have been made there would have been Satan/Crowley shippers bc that shit is some fuel for a toxic ship). At any rate Crowley is making a bit of a fool of himself and Satan is enjoying the Powertrip. In the end he gives Crowley the antichrist with the task to raise the baby or else suffer worse than anyone else in hell. However if he succeeded he is getting to leave the planet (again he supposedly doesn't even like earth in this version)

Anathema is introduced. She is just a little occult girl that felt the antichrist coming to earth. No mentioning of prophecies or anything. Our beloved Agnes does not exist in this universe. Just a little girl with green eyes and a sense for the occult.

Now with a baby he is supposed to take care of, Crowley makes his way back to the nightclub. There he hides the newborn from his employees and gets pulled away to discuss something by Tina. Since he is hiding the baby he puts the newborn down, right into Madam Tracy's money bag. And well, while he is off talking with Tina , Madam Tracy is taking her bag without noticing the child and off she goes. Leaving Crowley with the problem of a lost antichrist.

He starts drinking. He knows he is done for so what's the point. (The first bottle he grabs is Aardvark Snapps idk why I finde that interesting) . At this point he has accepted that he will end up for an eternity being punished. Hours later Aziraphale makes an appearance and is a little bit judgemental about Crowley being drunk. (Side note: an other hc of mine is that script!Aziraphale is straight edge bc of that scene). Crowley tries to have him join him drinking but fails. And then just try a to have a little heart to heart. ("I am doomed, Aziraphale") Only getting a little speech about being a demon and therefore inherently doomed ('duhhh!') back.

Crowley eventually just confides in Aziraphale how much he has fucked up having a bit of a monologue about it. Eventually Aziraphale offers to help find the boy, but only if he is allowed to influence him. To which Crowley reluctantly agrees, because it would mean that he still fails his task of raising a boy that Satan could be proud of. But Aziraphale is a little bit manipulative (also Crowley is still drunk while Aziraphale is sober) so they shake on it. Anyway this exchange is one of my favorites in the script .

We finally jump eleven years into the future and get to meet Adam.

He has been adopted by Madam Tracy. And is now running a bed and breakfast in the quaint little town of Tadfield. Instead of an army base this Tadfield has direct access to the sea. Including it's very own pier. Anyhow I said Adam is running the b&b that's because Madam Tracy is a neglectful parent and as much as I enjoy her script version, she is not doing great here. Adam is running errands, making breakfast for his mom and generally keeping things together. His whole interdiction is him being a little adult .

He finally gets some child time and we meet 'the Them' except they are not 'the Them'. Brian, Pepper and Wensleydale are a friend group and try to talk to Adam because Pepper wants to be friends with him ( I think the intention was to make Pepper and Adam as THING but idk) . But Adam wants nothing to do with them and instead just wants his peace and quite. So he gets insulted for not having a father and sulks off.

Anathema has also arrived at the scene. And has a culture shock bc of the lackluster infrastructure out here. She arrives in Tadfield with some difficulties and now has to somehow find a place to stay. And while the town seemed overrun with places renting out rooms it also has a case of outdated world views and nobody is willing to take Anathema in for some reason or the other. She eventually gets pointed into the direction of Madam Tracy. Where she is informed that she can have a room . And Madam Tracy casually dunks on Picasso which I can support.

Anathema then repeatedly runs into Adam and tries to strike up a conversation but he just doesn't want to and runs off. As both of them eventually go home at the end of the day he accuses her of following him they both are taking the same path. As he gets told that Anathema also lives at the same address as him now he gets angry and stroms to Madam Tracy, disrupting a seance to scold her for taking on a lodger without his approval. He is angry that Madam Tracy is so reckless taking in people without proper background check.

Following that Adam interviews Anathema. And they bond .

At night Adam sneaks off to the pier and we learn that he has build a model of Tadfield in an abandoned arcade.

He and Anathema bond a bit more over breakfast. (And honestly I like that version of them more relationship wise. As much as I love Prattchet, he did have a particular style of writing children that also came through in Gomes . It lends itself great to hypotheticals and punchlines, not so much for interpersonal relationships however)

Back to Crowley and Aziraphale. Last time Crowley had been hopeful and appreciative of the angel. Well now he is running out of time and he is getting grumpy and down in the dumps and ready to give up. While Aziraphale is still unrelentingly optimistic. Poly makes an other entrance, Crowley puzzles together an ancient Etruscan pott. All riveting stuff.

Shadwell, or what's left of his character makes a short appearance as 'MAD OLD MAN' shouting and standing on a soap box as set dressing for Crowley to buy a newspaper and... Pay for it .

He gets sapped into hell without notice.

(Side note Miss Ashtoreth is mentioned as secretary of Satan himself.)

Satan wants to check up on his son's progress. Crowley is shitting himself and lies, reassuring Satan that the boy is properly evil and all that . Of course Satan wants to see the boy real soon and tells Crowley to tell the boy that he is ready for when the boy wants to see him. And after taking a look at Adam by rearranging the universe itself to show a likeness in the stars (hell is a very surreal space with an office above the pit and direct view of all of the universe) Crowley gets sapped back to earth. (Also Satan calls Crowley 'Crawler' which is the script version of Crowley's name change, probably)

Crowley Is now properly stressed out.

On the other end of London (probably) Aziraphale's Crowley senses tingle and he just starts running (presumably) towards Crowley. This never gets brought up or explained. And is so bizarre I couldn't skip it.

Back in Tadfield Adam and Pepper get a bit of a bonding moment. Talking about action figures, Pepper giving Adam a lecture about not being sexist , getting fish and chips. The topic of Adams lack of a father gets brought up again and he lies. Telling Pepper he had met his father before and his father is a some sort of international business man, that meets with Presidents and is very busy. Eventually Perper asks about Anathema and tries to convince Adam to take her to the movies.

Back in London one Angel apparently unable to use public transport arrives at the nightclub. We can assume that he had been running the whole way. He gets pointed towards Crowley by multiple staff members, 'Every day' gets another cameo and he accidentally stumbles into the dressing room for the waiting staff, which is very embarrassing for him but not for the women.

When he reaches Crowley's office, the demon doesn't want to talk. He is panicking and packing to go on the run for the rest of eternity. (Which for him just means a suitcase full of sunglasses) . What follows is the infamous dialogue bc of which script!Crowley get his reputation from. (I might make myself very unpopular here but I think that reputation is not quite deserved. Yes he is an asshole but also the harsher exchanges only play out when he is stressed/panicked and usually if he goes too far he will try and paddel back. Still worst of the Crowleys without a doubt just not quite as bad as people like to paint him. Also script!Aziraphale isn't half as naive and helpless as people like to paint him and in this house we let him have his agency! But also more on that later)

The exchange switches tone once Aziraphale lets his unbreakable optimism fallter and gets sad. To which Crowley immediately reacts bc trying to reassure him that they are in fact friends and that he shouldn't be sorry. Pointing out that he (Crowley) now knows what the boy looks like to counteract Aziraphale's pessimistic statement that they could never have found the boy bc they didn't even know what he looks like. They agree to hit one more town in their search for the boy.

In Tadfield Anathema finally gets to talk about her quest to find the SOMETHING with Madam Tracy. And have her witness a fight between Brian and Adam about Adam's father. (Srly Adam gets constantly bullied bc of that.) Anathema steps between the two to protect Adam. They make a deal to tell each other's secrets. First we get Anathema showing Adam stuff about the antichrist and the weapon she plans on killing him with.

Then we get an intermission with Crowley and Aziraphale discussing how they should choose which town to go to. They decide with a dart throw.

Back with Adam and Anathema. Adam shows Anathema his model of Tadfield. To the question what he plans on doing once that model is done, he tells her, he is going to build the rest of the world and rule over it. He also voices his desire to get somewhere else to be no longer stuck in Tadfield.

Aziraphale and Crowley arrive in Tadfield during a Thunderstorm and face the same problem as Anathema. No one wants to rent them a room in town. And while with Anathema the whole thing was rooted in sexism, disdain for outsiders (aka read as Americans) and misunderstanding about her occupation, for those two it's the obligatory 'People think they are a gay couple' thing but with a giant side of Homophobia.

Crowley want to give up Aziraphale want to go on and eventually they end up at Madam Tracy's.

Madam Tracy mistakes them for the gas person, Crowley wants separate rooms, Aziraphale a shared one,(we never get to know which they now too bc the script has both scenes with a shared room and a separate room. It could also be the case that Crowley simply stays longer than Aziraphale and therefore the shared room becomes his room. At any rate it is never specified. And to be honest there are multiple parts of the script where the author very obviously had given up on it soooo) Crowley praises Aziraphale's skill as homemaker, Madam Tracy tells them, they have to wait for Adam. Adam comes home Crowley recognizes the boy.

Crowley and Aziraphale take a stroll on the beach and come to the agreement to each spend a day with the boy, despite Crowley trying to avoid having Aziraphale influence the kid. They also witness how Brian's fathers getting things ready to tear down the pier.

In the evening they play an other game of checkers. Adam witnessing first hand Crowley's cheating as he gets the both of them to have dinner with the whole house.

At the dinner table they convince Madame Tracey to let them take Adam to London for a day. Adam being obviously overjoyed about the whole thing.

Anathema sees Aziraphale's and Crowley's true nature for a sec. And I am sorry if this part comes across as rather dry, it's also rather dry in the script.

Adam gets taken to London. First Aziraphale get to show him the museum and talk about human creations . (Side note , when I first got my hands on the script I thought I was missing a page bc the dialogue has a really awkward jump in this scene but no ... It's supposed to be like that and either it was the author giving up or it was supposed to be a kid thing. Jumping from one topic to the next with much logic. We will never know)

Adam then confronts Aziraphale about Crowley's cheating. And here comes the part why I will never see script!Aziraphale as truly naive or helpless. Aziraphale admits to Adam that he had always known Crowley cheated, he just thought it virtuous to not point it out. Bc he played fair in his mind that was enough to stand above the other and just let him do the cheating. Adam points out it stupid and that was that. Aziraphale is stunned and does what most people with too much money and no idea how to handle kids do, exactly drag him somewhere, where he can buy shit.

Next up is Crowley. First he drags Adam to Soho. Not Good Omens there might be a cozy bookshop somewhere Soho but well 90s it's a bit of a cess pool Soho. With hookers and homeless teenage girls ( and for all those people that take Crowley being displeased with Adam for giving the girl some change as point to call him fundamentally mean/bad... I implore you learn was character motivations are. He has been tasked with raising an evil child, has promised an evil child, obviously he is displeased when that child is doing something selfless. And he wouldn't do something selfless in the presence of the said child bc again he is supposed to influence him towards evil) Crowley then gets him a milkshake and takes him to his club where they have the mirror conversation to Aziraphale's. Ending with Asam pointing out that it is pretty boring to always win for the wins sake by the means of cheating.

On the way back they have a short conversation about their respective experiences with the boy. Accidentally letting it slip that they know who Adam's father is, believing the boy to be asleep. He is not.

That night Anathema finally succeedes in her endeavor to find the antichrist. Her crystal ball revealing to her that it is indeed Adam. She is so shocked by that, that she lets the ball fall but luckily for her Aziraphale does his thing and it lands safely without breaking. (That another quirk of the script apparently Anathema and Aziraphale were supposed to be something and what ever that it, it's even weirder than Adam and Pepper)

Madam Tracy also finally recognized Crowley from THAT night and they have a honest heart to heart. Or whatever you call it when the otherwise always woozy character suddenly seem lucid and aware of what will happen.

That night Adam goes to Anathema for emotional support bc of the father thing. Anathema however is in the middle of a crisis bc she now knows what Adam is and had tried to get herself ready to murder him. Eventually Adam notices the knife behind her back and with the first flair of his antichrist powers forces her to show it to him before storming off hurt.

Being emotionally distraught he runs to his hideout on the pier and calls out to his feather. First nothing happens but then after Adam went off the pier and back again it is completely transformed into a bright happy carnival. His Father has arrived. Satan immediately takes Adam under his wings . He even dresses him up as a mini self.

The next morning the whole town of Tadfield is one giant carnival. There is a parade with elephants. And the people from around town are all mindlessly attending the celebration.

Crowley has a short meeting with Satan (on an elephant) and gets told that he is supposed to come to Satan to talk about his promotion to alpha centauri. AND

( Don't ask me why I find this too funny to not share my humor is very broken )

The town is being further transformed and more people are made mindless puppets. But no Crowley is happy to have gotten away with his stunt. He is roleplaying flirting with someone in a mirror. (Also in the script notes it literally says James Bond for acting directions for Crowley, and that's such a dorky idea I love the theory of it ... Bit of a waste in this tho).

Aziraphale tries to change his mind but Crowley shut him down by pointing out that he was the one saying happiness alone is making things a good thing so it shouldn't matter if people have to be made into mindless puppets first. They are happy after all.

Meanwhile Adam is torturing Brian by throwing tomatoes hat him and having the rest of the town join in with the fun. He just wants his father to be proud of him (nawww ) (that naw was sarcastic). In the crowd Anathema is fighting to regain control over herself.

Aziraphale still tries to convince Crowley. Rugging at his heart strings but even the tried and true "I thought we are friends" won't work this time. Crowley wants to cease his opportunity, he wants out and up.

While those two are arguing, Anathema struggles. All she wants it the knife but she is exhausted.

Crowley is looking for a starting point for his launch towards alpha centauri. He is climbing onto a church tower. Behind him Aziraphale still hasn't given up. Despite not liking heights (!? Wasn't mentioned before will not be mentioned again but apparently script!Aziraphale has a fear of heights). He finally gets an idea and challenges Crowley to one last match.

Crowley for once doesn't cheat and it looks like he is Winn but then Aziraphale DOES cheat, desperate to keep Crowley on earth and have him fight at his side. And Crowley just shrugs and accepts. His next line after acknowledging the win already calls Satan his ex-boss and if that is not a very impressive 360° turn then I don't know what is. (Just a throw back to character motivation, we could speculate it's because most of what Crowley has said were lies and half truths and deep down he actually likes earth and bla or he just remembered how much he would miss his nightclub BUT I as number one script!Crowley (not really) defender say ... It's just unfinished/bad writing and there simply wasn't enough time or inspiration or whatever to finish his character ark)

Anathema manages to give both of them the knife. Crowley is so idiotic and tries to grab it but it burns him . I mean, duhh! Anathema literally tells them that this knife can hurt the antichrist why should it be harmless for a way lesser demon? So Aziraphale takes the knife.

After calling Crowley his best friend, Crowley himself calling himself stupid Aziraphale, presumably presumably is important here) with the knife, goes off to confront Adam. He tried to talk Adam out of it. Trying to point out that no good father leaves his kid alone for eleven years and if this is really what Adam wants. As he points out that Madam Tracy despite all her flaws still love Adam he gets disorporated, by Adam. But bc this is a Movie script and we don't have much time left he just stays in his true angel form (which is very much just white robes , wings and halo ) right where he is further trying to talk Adam out of it .

(his an other line in my mounting pile of evidence that script! Aziraphale is neither naive nor helpless and simply chooses to carry himself that way bc he thinks it's virtuous. He literally acknowledges that people can do bad things. Something he would not at any point before that in the script. I rest my case )

While Aziraphale is trying to make Adam think about a things Crowley is off confronting Satan, presumably without the knife.

Satan acknowledges that Crowley had lied to him but is still in such a good mood that he still wants to give out the promotion. Even throws in the Titel of fiend extraordinar. For a moment it seems like Crowley considers but ultimately he tells Satan that he wants to quit. Satan is not happy about that and after Crowley also pulls out a pink rubber glove and the knife (yhea Crowley had the knife all along , take that continuity or rather scree logic, like not showing how they get a rubber glove is fine what ever but having the last scene withe knife I'm be the one where it's shown that he can't touch it and Aziraphale had to carry it would have made it feel a bit too deus ex machina.) he forces him into half snake form and summens hands that try and drag him back to hell.

Thanks to his already established Crowley senses Aziraphale suddenly shows up and charges at Satan. Who in turn is like 'An angel, really? You betrayed me,..' and then roasts Aziraphale to a crisp before destroying the knife .

Adam confronted with a robotic acting madam Tracy, listening to his every command, starts to reflect on his actions. Getting called in by his father to greed the four horsepersons he notices Aziraphale and Crowley.

Adam now faced with all the destruction says: no, I am not doing it. Stan tries to threaten him into obeying but he gets the good old 'You not my dad'. For being a deadbeat for 11 years. Adam then heals Aziraphale and frees Crowley. Now flanked by the two Adam banishes the horseman.

Satan demanding obedience once more, gets reminded by Crowley that he himself once rebelled. And after laughing about that revelation he tells Adam that it was interesting meeting him but as it seemed he wasn't cut out to be a dad. To Crowley that he is now banned from hell and to Aziraphale that he should tell his boss, that at least his son (the antichrist) had more guts than his(Jesus and yes the script sadly uses he/him for God).

After Satan vanishes they have to escape a collapsing pier. Noticing too late that Madam Tracy is also still there. Adam ends up releasing her from her trance by calling her mom and telling her that he loves her. Aziraphale ends up saving both of them, flying them to safety on the beach.

At the beach they also meet Anathema, who promises not to kill him and Pepper . They watch as the pier explodes and burns to the ground. Anathema also has uncomfortable eye contact with Aziraphale while he ripples back into human form . (Don't me why it feels uncomfortable, Anathema is described as looking on tens while he sill full angel and softening once he is human again so idk)

Apropos Anathema and Aziraphale. The next Morning, he comes to say goodbye and ends up offering a job bc (I forgot to mention it when it happened) Polly his assistant had a promotion. So he is search for a new assistant. She end up kissing him on the cheek and calling him angel but in a way where it's ambiguous if she now knows that he is one or if she just thinks he is a good person and something always makes her forget what he really is. At an rate Aziraphale says he had never gotten a kiss on the cheek im six thousand years and knowing a bit about history and cultural practices I am inclined to calling him a liar. But then again this is fiction .... So sure ... Cheek kiss virgin this one.

While that is happening Madam Tracy is asking Crowley if she can keep the boy now . And Crowley reassures her, that after this no one is going to come for him. He even offers to throw a birthday party for her at his club all she should do is just to look after the boy. It's actually a very sweet exchange.

Outside Brian and Adam have a little exchange, Brain trying once more to get to Adam with the father thing. But Adam has no daddy issues anymore. Instead he asks pepper out to the movies and Brian just tags along without being asked. Where is Wensleydale you asking ? Take your best guess, he was mentioned once said one thing and then fell off the earth.

With the kids now finally as a group we have the last shot of Aziraphale and Crowley. They are walking along the street , Crowley one stolen Apple in hand . Having their talk about good and evil. Accusing each other of being a little bit of a good person (press x to boubt) and just enough of a bastard (oh absolutely). How they both knew the other was cheating all along. And maybe alpha centauri isn't such a good idea after all. You can even get booze there. The last thing that is said is Aziraphale telling to not start THAT again, after being offered the apple.

I lied one more screenshot bc Every ...it had been for told by the cursed script for ages now. (I am pretty sure it had been in the talks to put go to Every day' even before the script was ordered so that is just a joke)

At any rate I do have to go to work in ....eh three hours ... So I will leave it at the summary for now. I am dyslexic and English is my second writing so I am very sorry for all the mistakes I probably made . If someone reblogs this before I get the chance to correct them, let it be said that at least nobody can claim this is ai pfff.

Also not I said the author the two times I mentioned him simply bc I don't feel like acknowledging the name of the person. I got into Gomes bc of Sir Terry and I stay here for him. This little obsession with the script happened by pure chance.