#written in one go because i thought it would be funny

[mochiwrites]

Would Grian and Scar in the secret husbands au ever want to have/adopt a kid/kids or are they more of “we are exclusively cat dads and nothing else”?

oh my god okay. okay.

so I am so very soft and wibbly over the thought of secret husbands adopting a kid. do I think they'd be responsible parents? considering who they are.... there'd certainly be a lot of chaos in the goodtimes household

a conversation I can see them having:

"scar... where's the kid?"

"the kid? huh?" "oh shoot they were just there a second ago!"

cue the chaos as they try to find their toddler child

but.... I don't know, I'm kind of tempted to say that they do end up adopting a kid.... I really love the thought of them having this small child and absolutely showering this kid in love. if I were to give them a kid in secret husbands, I think it'd go something like this:

xisuma calls a server meeting because he's detected some sort of anomaly that got past the server's protection. everyone goes searching for said anomaly, and it's scar and grian who actually find it. they find this kid who's scared and shaking and maybe... maybe their eyes flash purple and grian immediately knows what's going on. especially since he did the same exact thing himself a few years ago.

scar is the one who manages to reach out to the kid because he's scar and while he's working on calming the kid down, grian's messaging the server to explain the situation. they head back to spawn, scar holding a shaking child in his arms and everyone has. no idea what to do with this development

grian is, well, not quite hovering but he's certainly keeping his eyes focused on this kid, and he's the first to speak up in favor of keeping the kid on the server. scar of course agrees, and grian is determined to get everyone to agree to let the kid stay. and well. everyone agrees it's best for the kid to stay with scar and grian since they're the most... equipped to help

.....having written that out, yeah. yeah I want this to be canon to the au, scar and grian are in their parenthood arc !!!!!!

now, if this happens before or after the server finds out they're married.... that's the question...... it'd be really funny if part of the reasoning for giving scar and grian the kid is like "oh if they're acting as a little family then surely scar and grian will finally get together!!!" also bonus points if the kid at a later points asks the two of them why other people on the server think they're not together and scar and grian get the kid in on their plan LMAO

[cynthiav06]

With Percy, we know that he hates going to school and his goals don’t really line up with Annabeth’s, but Annabeth is kind of forcing him to do it with her because he can’t say no to her. Say Rick didn’t make Annabeth Percy’s entire personality, what do you think he would’ve done in the mortal world rather than go to university?

I was checking my drafts cause I am trying to catch up on all the asks in my inbox ( as I said in one of my earlier posts I was in middle of a medical situation so I have at least a month of backlog) and found this draft.

The funny thing is I had already written most of the post in the draft version, and this ask wasn't even being displayed in my inbox, so I was very confused as to when it was from.

But it's such a good prompt and a sort of controversial question in the fandom, so I wanted to post it asap.

Percy doesn't like studies, but he knows the importance of it, so I am sure he will finish his initial college, probably either in the science or arts section. We know at one point he got better grades than Annabeth at one point so he certainly isn't quitting studies and doing way better than what people expect. He also wouldn't like just staying at home and doing nothing (I am looking at certain Percabeth stans here), so he definitely would be doing one job or another.

1.

I don't think he would study marine biology like most believe. After a conversation I had with someone who had taken the course, I am convinced Percy wouldn't like it. It's heavily based on chemistry, and we know how much Percy is affected by sea creatures being mistreated or caged, so having to study marine biology wouldn't really be something he would choose.

2.

An interesting twist would be if he chose to be a writer like his mother.

We all know that Percy writes or at least dictates and narrates the first five books, which are written and narrated entirely from his perspective. Moreover, there are books on Percy just narrating his own sarcastic takes on Greek gods and Greek heroes. What if he did actually catalogue his own adventures in those books as a sort of manual for other demigods on how to deal with certain monsters and gods and such.

Through Percy's thoughts, even as 12 years old, we can certainly say he has advanced vocabulary despite being dyslexic and given how much he admires Sally, why wouldn't he be interested in following her footsteps. Sure, he has trouble reading, but that's not to say he wouldn't love expressing his thoughts through humorous retelling of his own adventures which he can pass as fiction to normal readers but actual experiences in demigod world. Who doesn't want to know the exploits of Percy Jackson?

Plus, it's a good money hack. And don't for a second tell me he wouldn't. Sally petrified Gabe, and then they sold his statute to a museum as a sculpture and earned money off of that. So Sally would definitely encourage it, and Percy would even follow through on it just for shits and giggles and the added benefit of helping demigods and earning money.

[I literally want this to happen just for the Godly reactions. I am all for god slander, especially Zeus slander. Poseidon would be half laughing at the book and half worried cause of the sheer catastrophes his son seems to fall into almost on a daily basis.

Apollo would be having a grand time, and Hermes will be half depressed and half impressed throughout. Overall, it would be hilarious all around, and it might finally make the gods feel a bit more accountable . It's literally the Reading Percy Jackson Series trope, and that's always fun.]

3.

One other option is that Percy will get into environmental preservation, specifically the protection of Rivers and Seas from pollution by actively involving himself and others in its cleanliness and purification. He would also run Beach cleanliness programs.

I think he and Grover would become environmental activists and would definitely get into preserving forest areas and other places where nature spirits dwell frequently. I can see them doing it a lot, long-term wise, too.

4.

I think he would kind of like marine explorations, but that might cause his powers to be somewhat exposed, so he might not do that, but it's a possibility.

That's all I can think of. I would like to hear everyone else's opinions on this.

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Fuzzy Socks

Stepdad Negan x Fem! Reader

Word Count - 5200k

Warnings- Stepcest (if you don’t like it then please don’t read), age gap, Negan doesn’t meet reader before she’s 18, female bodied reader but no physical description of reader, smut, talk of feelings, mentions and descriptions of sex. Daddy kink, 18+ only please, toxic mother, Negan is a sweetheart in this despite the topic.

————————————————————

“I’m leaving” your mom announces coldly, abruptly disrupting your otherwise quiet dinner. You turn to her in shock, “What do you mean you’re leaving mom?” You were so confused, this was so out of the blue, did she mean on a trip? Or for the evening? Or did she mean forever? You weren’t ready to up and leave your life once again. You thought she was happy here, she seemed happier than previously. But she’d unfortunately always had a habit of this, she would find a man, settle down, then get cold feat and run away again, taking you from whatever school, friends and life you’d settled into and rerouting your whole life once again to a new town, usually hundreds of miles away.

But she’d married Negan, we’ve been here for three years now. Usually she’d leave within eight months. “Mom?” You nudge. “I’m leaving here, I’m not happy anymore. And I can no longer pretend that I am. I’m sorry Negan but I am leaving and I need a divorce.” She explained. All the while you sat there in total stunned silence, how could she do this to Negan? He was amazing, he was kind, funny, gorgeous, would do anything to help anyone. This didn’t make any sense! You looked over at Negan trying to gage his reaction but to your surprise he looked as if he’d seen this coming. “Mom please, don’t make me leave again I’m settled here, I have less than a year left of college, It would mess everything up, you’ve seemed happy here.” You plead.

“Oh no I’m not taking you this time honey, you’re twenty one now, you’re not a child anymore. I don’t have to take you with me. You can stay here, can’t she Negan?” Your mother assumed. Negan instantly nodded his head, “Of course she can, I’m not going to throw her out onto the streets am I? I vowed to take care of her, of both of you but apparently those vows mean nothing to you!” He argued. There was no way he’d let you leave anyway, you were doing well here and he wanted you to finish your degree, he’d grown very fond of you, loved you even. You were everything your mother was not, you were loyal and passionate, you were sweet, you put others before yourself. You were the single best thing that had ever happened to him. Even if his love for you had somewhat shifted into something else, something he couldn’t admit even to himself let alone out loud.

But he’d seen this coming. Over the last year your mother had grown distant, refusing any form of physical contact, and staying ‘out with friends’ more and more, staggering through the door again at 6:30am hoping no one noticed, but Negan did. He noticed the bed dip in the early morning as she tried and failed to crawl into bed quietly, he noticed the subtle smell of another man’s aftershave, clung to her body. All the while she thought she was being sneaky, that her secret was still hidden. But she showed no guilt, no remorse for cheating constantly, she didn’t care, and it was obvious to Negan that you were on the lower list of her priorities too.

Her words stung, you couldn’t lie and say they didn’t. All these years she just towed you with her because she had too? Did you really mean so little to her? You didn’t think you really wanted the answer to that question. So you swallowed any response down and just nodded, hanging your head low to hide the pain that was surely written all over your face.

This broke Negan’s heart, how could your mother be so cruel towards you? You’d been nothing but a kind and dutiful daughter. He wouldn’t sit here any longer watching you be hurt by her heartless words. “Fine, I’m taking Y/N out for a couple of hours, when we arrive home I expect you and your things to be gone!” He declares, standing up and collecting the dirty plates, bringing them into the kitchen. You look over at him in confusion, “Come on sweetheart lets go do something while your mother clears herself out of our lives.” He nudges you softly, his voice calm and sweet towards you.

Standing up from the table you nod at him, “I hope you find what you’re looking for mom” you speak, trying your best to keep your voice steady. “I will don’t worry, I’m free now” she responds, gleeful glint in her eyes. “Oh Negan, here” she calls, before handing him divorce papers, he looks them over, shockingly she wants nothing but the sports car he’d spent the last two years restoring. Did he love the car, yes. But he loved you more. “That’s fine” he sighs, before signing the papers and handing them back to her. Walking over to the entrance hall he grabs the keys to the car, throwing them over to you mum. “It’s all yours, take it and your belongings and go!” He growls.

“What no! Negan you love that car, you’ve spent years working on it.” You worry. “It’s fine Darlin’ we can find another to work on yeah?” He offers, you nod meekly. Your mum never deserved this man.

He grabs the keys to his truck and nudges you out the house, closing the car door you sigh as Negan puts the keys in the ignition, “Where do you wanna go sweetheart? We can go to the movies? Go get icecream? Or we can go for a walk in the park? It’s your choice.” Negan offers, “A walk sounds nice” you reply with small smile. This was much harder on you than it was for him. He hates to see you so sad, so he decides right then that he will make sure you never feel sad like this again, he will do everything in his power to make sure the light of his life is happy.

“Park it is then” he hums before starting the engine.

________________________________________

Arriving back home felt weird, she was gone. The car and all her stuff too, “You alright sweetheart?” Negan asks. “Yeah I will be, it’s just hard to come to terms with the fact she never really wanted me, you know?”, Negan gives you a look of understanding, pulling you into a tight hug. “Your always wanted here ok?” He assures you, kissing the top of your head. You take in his comfort, drink it in like a hot cocoa on a winters day. Getting lost in his scent of old spice and woodsmoke. He felt like home, warm and inviting after a long day in the cold. Feelings stir up in your stomach, ones you’ve tried to bury, you’ve always thought your stepdad was handsome, it would be ridiculous to say otherwise, but your feelings ran deeper than just finding the man attractive.

Pulling away he clears his throat “Let’s get some sleep yeah? We can figure the rest of it out tomorrow.” He suggests, “Yeah ok, tomorrow” you smile at him, causing his heart to jump in his chest, he loved it when you smiled.

Once in your room, you thought over the nights events. You’d always known your mother was selfish but you hadn’t realised she was this cruel. Negan had explained to you on your walk, that she had been cheating on him for a long time now. You could never understand how someone could have a man like Negan and cheat on him! If he was yours you’d hold onto him and never let him go, you’d treat him how he deserves, love him how he deserves. ‘God what are you thinking!’ You scold yourself, he’s your stepdad! You need to get a grip, he’d never look at you in that way, he’s taken you on as his kid, not as a potential lover.

“Argh” you groan at yourself, throwing your body onto your bed in exasperation. These feelings were complicated not to mention forbidden, and the thought of that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. You cannot think like that, it’s a recipe for disaster and heartbreak, he’d be disgusted. You need to let your silly little girl fantasies go, and be realistic. Pulling the comforter over you, you allow your thoughts to shift as fall into a deep sleep.

Across the hall though, Negan is laying in his empty bed thinking about you. The way your hair smelt, the way your body melded into his own. He wonders how soft your skin would feel against his, how warm your neck would be as he nuzzled into it, placing warm kisses down your throat. What noises he could pull from you, would you moan out his name as you found your high? Hips rolling frantically into his own.

Negan felt his cock stir in his pyjama pants begging for friction, ‘fuck it’ he thinks as he traces his hand down his stomach and into his pants. His large hand wrapping around his aching member, smearing the pre cum over his hand as he uses it as lube.

Biting down on his bottom lip to cover his moans, he begins frantically tugging up and down chasing his release. He should be disgusted with himself as he pleasures himself to thoughts of you, his own stepdaughter who is innocently sleeping across the hall. But he can’t allow himself to care any longer, he’s desperate, bucking his hips to meet his hand, with a low groan he reaches his climax, thick spurts covering his hand and lower stomach.

Catching his breath he pulls himself up, moving to his bathroom to clean himself. Intrusive thoughts begin as guilt starts seeping in, what was he doing? He sighs running his hands through his hair, He decides to put it down to over a year of no sex, that’s what’s causing it, it must be.

He’d tell himself that he wouldn’t pleasure himself to the thought of you again, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s started his decent into the deep end now, and there’s no turning around.

________________________________________

The next morning you awaken to the smell of pancakes and sweet sugary syrup. You get yourself ready quickly and bound down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen you see breakfast all laid out for you, “Wow! This looks great Negan, you didn’t have to go all out”. You say, but the grin on your face was all he needed to decide he most certainly did need to. “That’s ok sweetheart I wanted too, coffee is in the jug” he points over to the coffee machine. You mutter a thanks, grabbing yourself a mug of the steaming liquid.

Breakfast goes by without a hitch, it was easy talking to Negan, but then you both always chatted over breakfast. Usually while your mother slept upstairs, tired from her late night gallivants.

“I’m going out with Lacey today, girls day to you know cheer me up.” You mention. “I think that’s a great idea sweetheart, you take as much time as you need. Just let me know if you’ll be home for dinner or not.” He offers.

“Ok will do, promise.” You respond, standing up and giving him a quick kiss to the cheek, before clearing your place and heading out. He watches you leave, his hand tracing his cheek, where he can still feel the remainder of your gentle kiss. He groans loudly to himself, he needs to clear his mind. So he decides to busy himself with house chores and DIY projects that needed doing. With your mother gone he could do as he pleases, finally finishing house projects the way he wants too.

But he speeds through them, finishing the last project he had on his list by early afternoon. Glancing over at the clock, he takes in the time. 2pm is that all? He probably still has ages until you come home, maybe some ‘alone’ time wouldn’t hurt? He has time doesn’t he? Nudging his bedroom door too, he strips down to his boxers before getting comfortable on his bed.

Closing his eyes he imagines a woman above him, as his hand slowly glides down into his boxers, he imagines her breathy moans as she rides him. Starting slow at first carefully rolling her hips, then speeding up as her hips collide into his own.

He imagines moving her hair out of her face, your face, the face he loves looking back at him as you continue to bounce on his lap. “Fuck” he moans, getting lost in the pleasure.

________________________________________

You’d had a lovely time with Lacey, you’ve been shopping, finding some cute autumn outfits and adorable fuzzy socks, you’d even found a pair for Negan. But after having a wonderful lunch out, you were ready to come home, it’s been an emotional rollercoaster this weekend and you wanted to curl up with a good book, wear your new fuzzy socks and drink a steaming mug of pumpkin spice cocoa.

Entering the house everything was incredibly quiet, there was no sign of Negan anywhere. “Hello?” You call out, seemingly to no one as it appears the house is empty. Looking out the front window you see Negan’s truck. ‘How odd’ you think, maybe he’s in the garden? So you wonder out the back, but still no sign of him.

You place your bags down onto the dining room table and kick off your shoes, padding up the stairs you hear a groan. ‘Oh yeah he said about doing some DIY projects, sounds like he’s struggling a bit’ you think. Maybe you should offer some help? Your self care plans can wait a little while.

That’s when you hear your name “Y/N fuck” he groans, he’s obviously heard you come in and needs help, shit you hope he hasn’t hurt himself. But as you quickly charge into his room you stop frozen in your tracks. There laying back on his bed is Negan, hand wrapped around his member, frantically moving it up and down all while moaning your name. He hadn’t even heard you bound into his room, seemingly still locked in his little fantasy.

“Negan?” You whimper, you’d meant to sound more firm but you really don’t know how to feel right now. Your shocked, confused, churned up and turned on all at the same time.

Just after you call out his name his eyes tear open in shock, hastily he pulls the cover over himself before rambling. “Fuck sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in”.

You nod still absolutely frozen in place, “You said my name, I thought you needed help, you know with the DIY projects. You sounded in pain I thought you’d hurt yourself. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just came in”. You mumble. He carefully gets up from his bed, sheet wrapped around the middle, “You have nothing to be sorry for Darlin’ this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry sweet girl, I never wanted you to find that out, especially not this way.” He groans running a shaky hand through his hair, he watches your face looking for any clue on how you felt, but you just look so confused.

He slowly takes a step towards you, as to not scare you away. When you don’t run for the door he closes the gap pulling you into his arms. He feels terrible, you must feel so betrayed, he has no clue how to make this up to you? Maybe you’d want to leave, go live with your grandparents or your aunt and uncle. You had a decent relationship with the rest of your family, it was just your mother who was the issue.

He was stuck in this inner turmoil, not knowing what to do for the best. Maybe he shouldn’t even be cuddling you right now, but he needed the comfort too. You on the other hand were still so confused, did this mean he loved you like you loved him? Did he feel the same way or was this a one time fantasy? You needed to know either way.

Pulling back you ask “Why were you saying my name?” You frown, “I think you know why sweetheart, I don’t think there’s any hiding it now” he sighs. “What I mean is, umm is this a one time fantasy Negan or do you have feelings for me?” You ask.

“Does it really matter Darlin?” He asks, because he’s betrayed you either way, no matter what now you will be uncomfortable being here.

“Yes!” You all but shout, “It does matter Negan, it matters to me, so please tell me which it is.” You demand, trying your best to keep your voice unwavering.

Negan lets out a long sigh, nodding as he sits back on the end of his bed. He runs his large hand down his face before answering, “I love you, I am in love with you sweetheart and I know this means you’ll need to leave now and I’m so sorry because I said you can stay here, and you can! But I doubt you want to after all this.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before smiling down at him. Leaving him just as confused as you were five minutes ago, “Why are you smiling Darlin, this isn’t right I’ve betrayed you in every way I” he was cut off by your lips crashing into his, as you slot your body between his legs. It takes him a second to catch up, but then he melts into you pulling you closer and onto his lap, hooking your legs around his back.

Pulling back to catch your breath you give him what he’s needed for so long, “I love you too Negan, I always have. I was so jealous that mom met you first, because she had the only thing I ever wanted. You.”

This time it was him that pulls you in to a bruising kiss, his arms locking tightly around you as he prepares to never let you go. “God what did I ever do to deserve you?” He mumbles in between kisses. “I don’t know, but what I do know is that you need to show me just how much you love me” you tease, grinding your hips down into his, causing him to hiss at the contact, “That sweetheart I can do”.

You feel your back hit the bed as he flips you over, bringing his hands up your ribs, carefully pulling your shirt up and over your head. While you impatiently kick your jeans off somewhere at the bottom of the bed, the action making him smirk, “Impatient darlin’?” He teases, “Yes” you moan, becoming more and more breathless by the second.

He could tease you all day, make you wait until you’re crying for him desperately. But he can’t, not today, you’ve both waited so long for this and he plans on worshiping you like you deserve. “Ok baby, don’t worry I’ve got ya” he says as he moves down your body, kissing down your stomach until he reaches your pubic bone. Placing a soft kiss there he wastes no time pulling your panties all the way off, and diving into your sweet pussy. You gasp at the sensation before letting out a long moan, the feeling of him suckling on your clit causing your legs to shake, “Negan oh fuck, you feel so good, more please give me more” you beg.

He answers your prayers by adding two long, thick fingers. Pushing them into your tight hole. “Shit!” You moan, your climax approaching quickly, never had you come so close to release so fast in your life! “Please don’t stop Negan, I’m so close” you whine, “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you, let go for me darlin’” he encourages, and you do, with a cry you reach your pinnacle, releasing all over his mouth and fingers, while he devourers it all up like a man starved.

You’re still so lost in your high you don’t notice him pull off his boxers and moving in between your legs. As your vision clears you feel him nuzzling into your neck, placing gentle kisses against your sweet spot while sliding his cock between your lower lips. “Are you sure you want this sweetheart?” He asks nervously, he’d stop right now if you asked him too, even though every fibre of his being so desperately needed to be buried inside of you.

You nod frantically, “Not enough baby girl, I need words” he nudges. “Yes fuck, I need you now, need you inside me so much” you beg. That’s all he needs to push forward burying himself inside you, all while letting out a low groan, “Fuck your so tight baby, and so wet. This all for me?” He asks, trying his hardest not to blow his load straight away. But you just feel so good! He’s overwhelmed, you’re really here, in his arms, begging him to make love to you.

He’s so lost in it all he jumps slightly when you roll your hips up into his, searching desperately for the friction you need. “Please, fuck please daddy make love to me” you beg. He whips his head up to look at you, and for a moment you worry you’ve taken things too far, the name unconsciously slipped through your lips, before you could even think.

But the smirk on his face says otherwise, who knew his perfect little girl could be so dirty. “Daddy huh?” He punctuates with a firm thrust, making you throw your head back in pleasure. “My naughty girl, does that get you off huh? Calling me daddy? Knowing it’s your step dad making you feel this good?” He teasingly scolds, as he starts a brutal pace, “Fuuuucckk!” You moan, leaking all over him, “Yeah you definitely get off on that don’t you? Dirty girl. Look at that, such a mess you’re making on daddy” he tuts, “Please daddy, please don’t stop” you moan, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Don’t worry baby I have no plans on stopping, you’re mine now and I ain’t ever letting you go.” He groans, rapidly ramming himself into you, at the same time he cups your cheek, pulling you into a loving kiss. A stark contrast to his brutal thrusts, but he still wanted you to know how much he loves you.

“Daddy I’m gonna cum!” You scream, “Go on baby girl, cum on daddy’s cock” he demands, hitting that perfect spot again and again hurtling you into your second orgasm, feeling your tight pussy clamping down on him triggers his own high, causing him to release hot spurts inside you as he growls into your neck. After you both catch your breaths he pulls himself up to look you in the eyes, “I love you so much sweetheart” he smiles. “I love you too” you grin, “So this is it now? You and me together?” You ask.

“Yeah sweetheart, this is it now. I told you, I’m never letting you go.” He affirms.

________________________________________

6 Months Later……………

Sat at the breakfast table, drinking a warm mug of coffee, your left hand laced in Negan’s you smile.

Things have been wonderful, you’d both fallen into your relationship so easily. And with summer coming to a close, you were soon finishing your final year of college. “You know sweetheart you only have a few weeks of college left, and I was thinking that maybe it is time to start a new?” He proposed. “What do you mean?” You ask, feeling a little uncertain all of a sudden, reading your face he pulls you closer, “Don’t worry darlin’ it’s a good thing, I was thinking that maybe we sell this house, move away and buy another somewhere new? Somewhere that’s only ever been ours? No bad memories attached, we can choose somewhere together?” He asks.

You light up “Really?” You gasp, excitement flooding in you. Buying a house together sounds like a dream. “Yeah, well the divorce has been final for a while now, and I feel like we’d both benefit from a new start, my jobs remote anyways and you will be starting new, so why not? Maybe somewhere by the sea? New England?” He offers.

“That sounds wonderful Negan, I’d love to live by the sea, I’ve only ever been once. It would be magical to be right by it everyday. And choosing somewhere new that’s just ours sounds perfect” you grin. “Great, it’s settled then, we will go down to the realtors this afternoon, get the ball rolling.” He suggests. You sit yourself onto his lap, running your fingers through his hair, “How did I get so lucky?” You smile, “Nah I’m the lucky one sweetheart”, you grin placing your lips against his, as he pulls you closer wrapping his arms around you. You both deepen the kiss, tongues dancing together loosing yourselves in each other.

Just as things start heating up, as hands begin to wonder and you start rolling your hips against his, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor startles you both.

“What the fuck!” A familiar voice chimes through the kitchen. “Shit” Negan mumbles into your shoulder before looking up, his eyes meeting those of your mothers.

“What the hell is this!!” She barks, you quickly get off Negan’s lap and turn to your mom, “Well mother I guess it’s exactly what it looks like.” You sigh. There was no use trying to hide it now. “I think I need more of an explanation than that! Negan?” She shrieks, “We are together, Y/N and I, and as you left quite some time ago I really don’t think it’s any of your damn business, you clearly know your way in, so can you please reverse the process and make your way back out of our home!” Negan orders, his tone cold and final.

“How long has this been going on? Were you two doing this behind my back!” She shouts, causing you to flinch, Negan won’t allow you to be hurt by this woman again, so instinctively he pulls you behind him all while taking a defensive step towards your mother. “How dare you! After you know full well what you were doing behind my back! You didn’t hide it very well trust me!” He spat. “Well I umm, that has nothing to do with this! That’s my daughter! Your step daughter! How could you!” She cries.

“Firstly you lost the right to call her your daughter the second you left, second we haven’t been married a long while now so she is no longer my ‘step daughter’ and to answer your question, no this didn't happen until after you left, now will you please leave!” He growls.

Your mom turns to you, “I always knew you were a little slut, but to steal my husband, even I didn’t think you’d lower yourself that far!” She sneered. “Hey! How dare you…” Negan starts, but you place your hand on his arm, giving him a look that says ‘No I’ve got this’.

“I didn’t ‘steal’ your husband mom, you left, and you asked him for a divorce, which I may add you made him sign then and there. You then walked out of our lives, leaving me here with Negan without looking back. Now what? It wasn’t greener on the other side? You thought you’d come back here and pick up where you left off? Life doesn’t work like that mom.

I’ve nearly finished college and soon we will be moving, and we won’t see you again, you can go on and live your life exactly how you wanted, alone. You wrote your terms in the divorce papers, to which he agreed too and signed, so you are entitled to nothing here. So to echo what Negan said, please leave. I hope to never see you again.” You declare, opening the front door and motioning her to leave.

Negan watches with a proud smirk on his face, one your mother certainly notices. “This isn’t over! You won’t be walking happily off into the sunset I promise you! I will tell your grandparents, they will all know what a little slut you are! You’ll have no one left!” She shrieks.

“You can tell them whatever you want, but I can assure you they won’t be shocked. I’ve invited Grandma and Grandfather to my graduation. So I had to tell them about me and Negan. They weren’t too happy to start with, but once Negan spoke to them on the phone, told them what you’d done and how much he loved me. How he wants to make me happy and love me how I deserve, they came around, in fact we are both invited over for thanksgiving with the family. So you can take your threats and shove them where the sun don’t shine mother, goodbye.” You say calmly, once again motioning for her to leave.

She screams in frustration before stomping out and slamming the door. You know you haven’t heard the end of this, and in all honesty you hope you can move quicker than she can plot.

________________________________________

Graduation passed with a blur, your grandparents did in fact come and they made mends with you and Negan. All be it along side threatening him, that if he ever hurt you your grandma would castrate him. But even she could tell how much you loved one another, Lacey took a bit more convincing, she couldn’t understand to start with, but you reminded her you met him when you were over 18. That nothing happened until you were even older than that, you told her how happy he’s made you, and that you hope she will come visit you in your new home.

Eventually she came around, and has since visited you in your new home. Which was the best surprise, as you couldn’t imagine loosing your best friend.

Your new home….. it was beautiful, a little two bedroom cottage right by the sea in a sleepy little seaside town in Rhodes island. It was perfect, Negan let you decorate it however you wanted, in his words “I couldn’t care less, paint it all pink if you like, if you’re happy I’m happy”.

You’d gone up and spent thanksgiving with your family as planned, they were all very welcoming to Negan, as they hadn’t met him with your mother, it was easy to only see him as your partner. It was lovely to see everyone again, the family who loves you, but whom your mother had kept you away from. Your mother thankfully didn’t have your new address and it felt like things were finally good, really good in fact, and as you snuggle up with Negan on your first Christmas in your new home.

Fuzzy socks sat on both your feet, and the heat from the fire warming your skin, a deep contrast from the snow that’s softly falling outside your window. You look down and smile gleefully at the glistening ring on your left hand, and in that moment you knew that everything was worth it.

[anaer]

wip wednesday (sept 18 24)

JJK time travel fix it fuck it up fic CHAPTER TWO (in which gojo ends up back in time and decides its time for a hostile takeover) sukugo/stsg rating: gojo plots murder

“So I think I’m going to kill the higher-ups next week,” Gojo announced to Nanami and Shoko that evening.

Nanami choked on the beer he was drinking, squawking like he was dying even more when Gojo (very gently) slapped his back to help him.

“Stop that before you break his ribs,” Shoko chided, reaching over the table to shove him away from Nanami.

“I was helping!”

“Helping make my life more difficult when I end up having to heal him.” Shoko gave him a pointed, blank look. “And it sounds like I’ll have my hands full in the next few days, so I want to enjoy my night.”

“Ah, it’s fine; I won’t do it until at least Tuesday. You’ve got time.”

“No,” Nanami said between coughs, pounding on his own chest. “Stop talking. I don’t want to hear this.”

Gojo leaned to the side, face fully in Nanami’s space. Nanami tried to lean backwards but there wasn’t much room in the inside of the booth he was trapped in. Regret was already written over his face, but regret was the only emotion Gojo ever got from Nanami, so he paid it no mind. “Don’t worry, Nanami! I’m not killing them just for shits. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll definitely enjoy it, but this is just because Sukuna said society’s hierarchy should be determined by strength and he thought I’d be in charge, and I’m thinking he might be right.”

One second, two, three of Nanami processing what Gojo had just said. Confusion ran across his face followed quickly by abject horror before settling into resignation as he said, “What?” Fingers pressed against his forehead, pinching away the headache he would most likely claim was growing. “Why are you enabling this idiocy?” he asked Shoko.

Shoko laughed and tossed back her whiskey. “Oh, right. You don’t know. Gojo is apparently from next year.” She nodded in Gojo’s direction. “He made a whole timeline. It’s pretty interesting. You die, apparently, but I make it.”

Nanami’s face looked even more pinched as he dragged his own drink to his mouth.

“Yeah, I died, too,” Gojo added. “Which, you know, kinda sucked, but as far as ways to die go, I’d say that was a solid nine out of ten. Pretty fun, all things considered.”

Nanami mouthed ‘fun’ with disbelief against the rim of his cup.

Shoko was still laughing, entirely too amused for what was, in fact, a very serious situation. Gojo didn’t mind, though. Unlike some people (Suguru), she took his threats seriously. She just thought he was naturally funny, which he was. “And get this: he’s also in love with Ryoumen Sukuna now.”

Nanami started choking again. Gojo very pointedly did not try and help him this time.

“The mummified fingers?” he finally managed. He dropped his glass back down onto the table, but only because it was empty.

“Mm,” Gojo acknowledged. “I’m pretty sure he’s at least a little in love with me, too. Or at least he was; now I have to go through the whole process of seducing him again. Fuck. It went so perfectly last time! I nearly killed him. He killed me. We had a moment!”

Nanami blinked very slowly at him. “And this is why…you want to kill the higher-ups,” he said, voice dry.

Gojo waved him off with one hand and sat back in his chair. “Nah. That wouldn’t impress him; they’re too weak. I’m going to kill them for me.” He beamed as he said it, delighted by the thought.

Nanami rubbed his forehead like that would at all ease the impending headache growing behind his eyes. He didn’t get it. Of course not. Gojo nodded as he decided to explain further.

“Here’s the thing: I didn’t kill them last time. I mean, I did. I completely butchered those fools, and it was the best part of my birthday.” Nanami looked like he wanted to die. Gojo ignored it and continued. “But I didn’t before they fucked everything. I could’ve. I should’ve. But, you know, everyone’s so insistent you have to be a good person all the time. If you murder people, they’re all ‘oh you’re an evil cult leader now, you have to be kicked out of society’.”

“To be fair,” Shoko interjected, “Geto deserved it. Don’t defend him for that; he dumped you at a KFC.”

“First of all, he didn’t dump me. We just grew apart. Because he’s obnoxious and I can’t stand listening to him talk. Also, the whole murdering most of the world thing is a big turn-off. If he’d only decided to murder a couple thousand people, I could’ve been on board.”

Shoko and Nanami exchanged a look.

“Anyway,” Gojo continued. “That’s not the point. I tried being a good person, and it didn’t end well for anyone. And killing those idiots was both fun and a net good, so why wait this time? I’ll do it now. Before everything is fucked. I can’t possibly run things worse than they do.”

It was possible Nanami mouthed something like, ‘so we’re all doomed,’ right before he downed the rest of his drink, but Gojo, as always, graciously ignored him.

[nevesmose]

Separation 11347

This was, by Trazyn's infallible reckoning, his eleven thousand three hundred and forty-seventh divorce from Orikan. The Diviner, on the other hand, was adamant that it was in fact only their eleven thousand three hundred and forty-sixth. This dispute was what had caused the current divorce.

At first he had settled contentedly into his usual divorce routine, entering his meticulously-preserved time loop of a "Happy Divorce" party plucked from the Terran city-state of Nova Yoruk in early M3 as the Imperium kept its years.

As had been the case so many times before, the Lord of Solemnace basked over and over again in the reassurance of the assembled middle-aged humans that he was indeed so much better off without that asshole in his life, rounding off the festivities with a cake depicting a miniature confectionery figurine of Trazyn using a guillotine on a similarly-constructed sugar-based effigy of Orikan.

It was all very gratifying, and he was certain that when the amusement faded he would return to find Orikan waiting for him apologetically, his eminently bullyable faceplate resembling a weeping juvenile felid.

It was, however, not to be. He returned to the Galleries to find no trace whatsoever of Orikan. He was so disconcerted that he even briefly considered retrieving his much-prized clone of the primarch Fulgrim from stasis, but decided against it. It had, after all, only been a few subjective decades since he had placed the clone into a detailed diorama of the genuine being's final battle with his erstwhile companion Ferrus Manus for enrichment purposes. He had been thoroughly pleased with himself for coming up with entertainment of such realism and, judging by his mute tears of joy, so too was the clone.

What a wonderful caregiver I am, he had thought, jauntily walking away. Perhaps he and Orikan should adopt, which when used by Trazyn the Infinite is a word which means kidnap, an Astartes or Aeldari together.

Time passed and with no sign of Orikan's return, Trazyn felt it justifiable to seek other outlets for his multifarious urges. After exhausting every category on Cronhub and getting banned from Nemesorindr, he arose to find that the necrodermis of his lower limbs had spontaneously reformed itself into the shape of a baggy, ill-maintained example of the Terran garment known as sweatpants.

This could not stand. He resolved that he would start A Project, an undertaking of such majesty and glory that no one, least of all that cycloptic fool Orikan, could deny him the attention he deserved.

After brief forays into stop-motion animation and painting miniature Space Marines (accomplished by shrinking normal Astartes through arcane technosorcery and ignoring the resulting high-pitched noises as he applied pigment of a much too viscous consistency to their battleplate) his thoughts returned once more to his display of the battle between the primarchs on Isstvan V.

Theirs was a tragic tale of heartfelt companionship severed by corruption and betrayal. He himself had mentally projected several hundred phaeronfics about them to the great repository of the Necron race whose name, although untranslatable into any other language, was best rendered as The Sarcophagus-Belonging-To-Us-Alone, and some of them had even received multiple scarabs of approval from the discerning audience entrapped there forever.

Surely, he reasoned with the confidence of a being who had long since activated the developer console of his necrodermis body and manually increased its confidence, intelligence and charisma variables to 100, this meant that no one other than he could restore their friendship.

And so, in single-minded pursuit of compassion and friendliness, the Archaeovist and his forces wrought a swathe of destruction across the galaxy.

A foray into the Eye of Terror itself resulted in the capture of Fulgrim through the use of a vast two-pronged stick to pin the writhing daemon prince to the ground where he had been basking one day, while the sacrifice of his entire collection of ancient Terran doujinshis to the haemonculi of Commorragh itself had given him forbidden knowledge sufficient to wrest back the very soul of Ferrus Manus himself and place it into a suitably prepared necron host body via the biomorphic resonance of the necrodermis which had coated his hands in life.

Finally, the moment of glory came. The daemon Fulgrim and the metallically resurrected Ferrus Manus were placed into the same containment chamber and -

It was not at all what Trazyn had hoped. After a monumental bout of hand-to-hand combat lasting for hour upon hour, the two primarchs had settled into an uneasy stalemate, in the sense that Fulgrim was currently coiled around a light fixture on the ceiling and Ferrus had run out of objects to throw at him.

"You're even uglier now than you were when you had flesh," Fulgrim hissed venomously.

"And you were more of a snake then than you are now," Ferrus shot back, the frozen inexpressiveness of his necrodermis faceplate matching the famously stone-faced countenance he had displayed in life.

Fortunately Trazyn, who never made a mistake of any kind whatsoever, had prepared for such an eventuality. A concealed slot opened in the ceiling of the containment chamber, dislodging Fulgrim from his perch, and through the opening there descended a vast garment of woven silver-metallic fabric, emblazoned with inscrutable Necron symbols and sized in such a way as to accomodate the bodies of both primarchs.

"This is your get along shirt," Trazyn said, his voice amplified throughout the containment chamber. "You will wear it."

[buddiesmutslut]

OKAY OKAY OKAY YOU GUYS BUT WHAT IF!!

What if, in the last few minutes of 7x10, we cut to Frank in his office. The camera is focused on him so we don’t know who’s on the couch across from him.

He’s mentioning the last time the person was there, that they were talking about intimacy & their partner and worries about the future (throwback to Athena on the first episode & Bobby in the cruise ship arc), and Frank asks the person how it’s going…

AND THEN IT PANS TO EDDIE IN THE ROOM LOOKING UNCOMFORTABLE AND UPSET AND KIND OF A MESS AND HE SAYS SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF: “I realized I couldn’t commit to Ana or Marisol in the way I thought I should because they’re not what I wanted. I don’t think I like women.” A pause. A breath. “And I think that’s because I’m in love with my best friend.”

END SEASON ROLL CREDITS YOU’LL HAVE TO COME BACK IN S8 TO SEE HOW IT PLAYS OUT.

[gildedmuse]

So, I just know all of Tumblr was wondering, "hey, you remember that really weird ZoLaw fan with the annoyingly overly stylized post? I wonder if she's seen this and if she has any theories or thoughts, an observation or two?"

Well, allow me to set your wandering mind at ease, fictional Tumblr fan. The answer is: No. No, I really don't.

I have like three hundred.

[I also spent time just trying to track down as many translations as possible. Is Tera A Criminal's Daughter or The Daughter Of Thieving Bandits! These are CLEARLY separate things and can ENTIRELY change how her utter nonpresence in Zoro's life shaped him! Though I can take comfort in knowing that, regardless of what kind of crimes her father was committing they were more important than anything his daughter ever did in her entire life.]

And, hey, as might as well jump right into that whole mess.

1. Wait, Zoro's mom is dead? Thank goodness, I was worried Oda forgot one!

(AKA: Stop. Murdering. Moms.)

I'll go first, I don't mind saying when I was wrong. True, in the past I may have suggested that the vast majority of female characters in One Piece come off as ever so slightly, "leaning into sexist tropes with unadulterated joy; it's the misogynistic tropes equivalent of a child running naked through a grocery store. It's right there, everyone sees it, yet people shut up and continue shopping in part because, well, these days you just expect most people to cover that junk! What would you even say? And if you DO speak up and call out the inappropriate, be prepared for blank stares and tantrums; but THEY don't mind! THEY don't think it's wrong! You're just being mean!"

More or less a direct quote.

However, I see now that I rushed to judgement and the reality of the situation is far more nuanced. With that in mind, I was just wondering if someone could help answer some of the questions I have.

Like: Why does Oda believe that it's illegal for (maternal) female characters to survive other character's backstories?

More importantly, why hasn't someone just reached out to explain the misconception!? It can't be that difficult. If nothing else, just have a lawyer or judge or other expert in censorship on hand. Or is the one of those cases where back in highschool his friends made something up and then kept pretending it was real to see if he'd believe you and not only did he fall for it, it took over 20 years before he learned that, what, no that's not illegal. That would be crazy if it were an actual law. Cause you know, after the first 10 years I think yeah you have to just lean into it. Pretend it's a creative decision on your part and definitely not because you were terrified of being sentenced to a slow and humiliating public death.

Just to be clear that's definitely what's up, right? I mean, I'm struggling to think of another reason....able excuse why a story that I really enjoy keeps playing the same old sexist tropes cards again and again to the point of absurdity. It would just help if I had a valid excus- explanation. I almost mistyped the word explanation.

....

....

So I imagine it went like.

"That's the third mangaka they've had to Publically Execute this week!"

"They've started taking this law way more serious lately."

"This one really deserved it though! I heard his main character has a mother in her late forties!"

"That does seem old to have your first child."

"No, he's the middle of three and 22 years old. The story even has flashbacks of defining moments in his childhood and never once did she try to sacrifice herself for him, get murdered by his enemies, or die in meaningless unrelated accidents."

"Damn, that's cold to be there for all the protagonist core moments and not die and help him develop and grow a character? They must have a very antagonistic relationship. Is she actually the villain."

"Not that we know, and when they asked about this being a possible plot twist since - obviously if she's evil no laws are being broken."

"Well, of course, that's the whole reason Statue 2-dash-57 exists; if creators can show they have consistently been building up to a surprise twist then the female character in question can continue to live so long as she continues to be unrepentant and unlikable until the resolution of her arch by the protagonist."

"That's the thing! Under oath not only did man present no evidence to support her identity as a secret villain, he went on the record stating he wanted to depict their relationship as one of a normal modern 20 year old and his mother."

"That can't be true! What publishing company would even print that!?"

"It gets worse. I told you he was a middle child? Well, according to those who've read the actual manga, his younger sister was really sick as a child."

"Oh, well, at least-"

"It was just a fish allergy. She's perfectly fine."

"Sometimes I feel this law is unnecessarily harsh but.... Then you hear stories like that, and you realize that some people really are monsters."

[cowboy-robooty]

okay. calling all yandereheads. does anyone know any stories that has a yandere but like they have a sidekick (that doesnt really want to be their sidekick but is forced into it and decides to make the most of their situation and ends up acting like a silly friend to them) and at first they hate their sidekick and want their ass dead but keep em around bc their sidekick helps them stalk their crush but then the story does a switcharoo where the yandere realizes sidekick is their #truelove and goes yandere for sidekick

[bookwyrminspiration]

I wrote “et tu, Brute?” on the class whiteboard as tomorrow’s phrase of the day, no reason in particular…

[andiloveyoutooangel]

"I know that face." Her voice is low, raspy from sleep, but still playful. He floats above her, caught in the act. Morning sunlight slits through the cracks in the blinds he's trying to close. Whatever doesn't fall on his skin lands like patchwork on the blanket she's curled up in, her tired eyes meeting his. "What are you worrying about now, hmn?"

"Ah, désolé, did I look worried just then?" Despite his self-assured tone, his expression betrays his sheepishness, as he ducks down to press a kiss to her forehead, "I only wanted to close the blinds so the sun wouldn't wake you before your alarm. I guess, uh, I woke you before your alarm, instead...?"

She's been so tired lately, is what he doesn't say, so busy and drained of energy. He wants her to be able to rest fully, as much as she needed, in the way where he'd threaten a solar eclipse if the sun dared disturb her on her first day off in so long.

"Taylor, you're so dear to me. Thank you." She says, simply, sincerely. Her smile is warmer than sunrays, "It's okay, you don't have to. Sun's good for me, in the winter."

"Ah. Okay, okay." So he leaves the blinds, slightly ajar. No solar eclipse then, if his love prefers the light. The dark of the room is warmly hued, tinged with mellowed gold. He hovers awkwardly, wings slowly flapping to keep him uncertainly afloat.

Wordlessly, she raises a wing and an arm towards him, an invitation, a request. Slowly, carefully, he lowers himself beside her. With much less care, she unceremoniously tosses the blanket over him so they're sharing, and he grins, ducking his chin beneath the covers.

He lets a wing drape over her, covering his charge, his human, his partner. In turn, she intertwines a hand with him and closes her eyes. Safe, content, trusting.

"I love you." She says, squeezing his hand gently.

"I love you." He returns, and they doze until the alarm wakes them properly.

[paragonrobits]

some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:

Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.

The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.

There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.

Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).

Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.

On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.

Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Speaking of amvs (I mentioned one in the tags of my last post), I'm also finally finishing a Bangel one that I started ages ago, and I really love it<3

But when I do finish it, I wonder if I should publish it now or just wait a little bit and upload it for the "I Will Remember You" marathon. I'm thinking the latter, honestly.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, finally, this paragraph:

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

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

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

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

[lemonduckisnowawake]

*gasps as I crawl up to this blog, covered in blood and sweat and gore* After 300 pages of story scenes, 700 pages of short stories, multiple documents of additional short story dumps, 7 folders, and some other things, I have successfully found at *least* FIVE romance scenes that aren't written with hatred and pain, aren't written out of spite, aren't made to be ridiculous and/or funny, aren't heavily made to be an allegory, aren't noncanon cause meh, AND aren't made to be a tragedy. At least 5 (it's sadly less than five but I'm done looking at what I didn't) small written things in over 6 years of Serious Writing that feature a romance that is soft, taken seriously, canon, AND not made to be purposefully ridiculous cause I Could Not.

All that to prove to a friend I could do romance softly and seriously after they shared something really very sweet and well written. ALL THAT JUST TO SHOW THAT I KIND OF ALREADY SHARED SOMETHING LIKE THAT A FEW WEEKS BACK

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that you would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

[joycrispy]

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.