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astermath · 1 year

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“So? Whatever.”

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.

word count: 2K

♡ LANDING PAGE♡

notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3

(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)

To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?

“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day.

He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It’s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.

“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?

“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.

“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually.

“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.

“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.

Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”

“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed.

“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm.

“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...

The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass.

You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them.

“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.

“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.

“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.

“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”

You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”

“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.

You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.

He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.

“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy.

“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.

“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though.

“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”

He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it.

“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”

“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him.

Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys.

Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.

You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed.

He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.

But boy did it make his heart flutter.

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vidavalor · 7 months

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The Vavoom: Or, when the show's hinting Crowley & Aziraphale first kissed

It was not in 2.06, if that makes you feel any better?

Meta/theory hybrid stuffity stuff below the cut. As always, all interpretations are valid. This isn't meant to offend anyone who sees things differently. Post contains spoilers for the films 'Kiss Me Deadly' (1955), 'About Time' (2013), 'Love Actually' (2003), and 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' (1994). Apologies that this took a few days. Life's been wild this week. Let's dive in...

Right. So. The Vavoom...

I feel like most of us, by this point, are probably in agreement that Crowley is not talking about something he saw in a Richard Curtis film when he talks about his plan to help The Shop Lesbians to fall in love... and that, if he's not talking about something he saw in a movie, then he's talking about something he experienced... and yes, sure, absolutely Crowley has been on Earth for 6,000 years and could have vavoomed with basically anyone who has ever lived at this point as well as one semi-sentient car and even the world's once only-remaining unicorn but... we all know he's talking about Aziraphale. So this is about unraveling what the show presents as Clues to this end and using those Clues to solve for x and see if we can prove that Crowley is talking about Aziraphale and then figure out when this Vavoom happened with the information the show has given us so far... and the good news is that we can do all of those things so here we go...

The first thing to do is to eliminate the Richard Curtis films. Let's just start with Crowley saying that he saw his whole vavoom moment in "a Richard Curtis film." As someone who has seen a frankly embarrassing number of Richard Curtis films, I can tell you that this is a very amusing misdirect from a writing standpoint. It is amusing because it's a wink of sorts towards the same problem that comes up when you try to find The Vavoom on the GO timeline based on what the show's presented so far. What is that problem? It's that-- at first, cursory glance-- no one GO scene or Curtis film seems to have everything Crowley describes. Don't worry, though, because we actually do have enough information to find the lone caraway seed beneath these three cowrie shells here. You'll be Aziraphale-voicing an "a-HA!" very soon. :)

There are only two Richard Curtis films that feature elements Crowley lists as having occurred during The Vavoom: 'About Time' and 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' The Awning of a New Age scene in GO actually winds up an homage of sorts to 'About Time', as it is referencing it pretty heavily. However, there is no vavooming in 'About Time'; meaning, there is not this gaze-to-kiss moment that Crowley is talking about. A wedding reception tent collapses under heavy rain and soaks several supporting characters in the film, much like how our supporting characters Nina and Maggie get soaked by too much rain causing the awning to collapse. There is no gaze or almost-kiss or kiss before it. There are other canopies-- umbrellas-- but no one gazes or kisses under one. So, Crowley did not see The Vavoom in 'About Time'-- but that particular Richard Curtis film might have been the one in Crowley's mind when he quickly latched onto Richard Curtis films while speaking with Aziraphale in the pub.

As a result, thinking about his conversation with Aziraphale while trying to craft his Shop Lesbians Vavoom might have actually caused him to over-weather and cause the awning to drench Maggie & Nina. So the joke there is more that The Original Vavoom of which Crowley is speaking in the pub scene is something that really happened and had an element or two in common with a scene in the Richard Curtis film, 'About Time', which also features Bill Nighy (see: 'Love Actually' stuff below), whose mannerisms Crowley seems to like to emulate at times. As a result of seeing the film and thinking about how it *wasn't* like The Vavoom-- the canopy collapsing, the lack of an actual Vavoom in motion prior to this, all of that disappointing Crowley greatly when he saw this film lol-- Crowley ironically then says he got the whole idea of The Vavoom from a Richard Curtis film... when, in fact, *the distinct lack of Vavoom* in the film was what Crowley remembered from it... and then, upon thinking of the pub discussion when trying to start an Awning of a New Age for Maggie & Nina, it accidentally became part of his miracle, causing him to over-Weather and, kind of hilariously, substituted the kiss Crowley was trying to incite with the collapsing awning scene from 'About Time'... the film then disappointing him all over again lol.

The other Richard Curtis film that is relevant is 'Four Weddings and a Funeral.' You might be familiar with the scene-- its ending scene-- just from cultural osmosis as this point, even if you haven't seen the film. Hugh Grant proposes to Andie MacDowell in the pouring rain. So, the big problem with this scene is that there is no canopy. None. Whatsoever. They're soaked through. We never see them go inside. They look into each other's eyes and they kiss but it's raining on them the whole time and Crowley is really specific about his canopy requirements for Vavooming. This scene is also wrong because it's a proposal between characters who have known one another on and off for years and have a more extensive history, whereas Nina and Maggie are much earlier in a potential relationship and The Vavoom Crowley talks about is an intense gaze into a first kiss. That said... just as how 'About Time' ties to Nina & Maggie's story, there are some 'Four Weddings'-y elements to Crowley & Aziraphale's relationship, in that their story also covers them meeting up through different points in time and such. 'Four Weddings' was also the first mainstream, hit rom com to openly feature queer characters in supporting roles so it's a strong one for GO to be referencing... but, ultimately, no Crowley-described Vavoom scene in sight.

Finally, there's 'Love Actually', which doesn't actually have a single element in it that pertains to The Vavoom but I'm throwing it in here because I'm just looking at all GO ties to Richard Curtis films at this point. 'Love Actually' features Nina Sosanya (GO's Nina, of course) as a queer-coded character and, in GO, David Tennant has a few scenes where he seems to be channeling Bill Nighy's Billy Mack from 'Love Actually' in S1. (Tell me Crowley's not doing Billy Mack's walk when they cross the street to the bookshop in Eleven Years Ago in S1 lol.) For those of you who have somehow avoided seeing this movie lol, Billy Mack is an aging rock star who is the best character in the film and heavily queer-coded. In S2, there's also some Big Bill Nighy Energy in the "we'll just to have to make it worthwhile then" bit with Muriel in Heaven and also in the way he chuckles in the "I *was* there, you see" moment with Gabriel. Also probably worth mentioning that, in 'About Time', Bill Nighy plays the dad of one half of the main couple in the movie and his role is to teach him how to live life and this involves pursuing the woman he is trying to marry throughout his ability to fall through time. So, Bill Nighy is basically playing the S2 Crowley of 'About Time' while the main couple of that film parallels Maggie & Nina, in that he's setting up the scenario for the couple involved to get together. Nothing in the film, though, is as overt or contains elements that match The Vavoom, other than the collapsed awning, as we got into above.

So mah point is dolphins that while there are a couple of Richard Curtis films that contain bits and pieces of what Crowley is talking about, there isn't a single one that has anything really remotely close to the, uh, extremely specific scenario he was detailing... so now we have to look at just what the hell Crowley's on about, exactly... and for this, we are, surprisingly, going to wind up looking at a very different film from any by Richard Curtis-- 1955's classic film noir, 'Kiss Me Deadly'. Why this random film, you say? Because it's actually not at all random to GO S2. It's the origins of the phrase "vavoom"... and S2 of GO contains a multi-episode homage to the film.

'Kiss Me Deadly' is, tonally, very different from GO as it's pretty dark film noir but it has a plot you might find a little familiar. One night, driving down a dark road, the main character picks up a hitchhiker who has lost her memory. After she's murdered, the film revolves around the main character-- a private investigator-- and his lover/partner investigating the case to try to solve the mystery. GO's episode "The Hitchhiker" opens with a plot and visual homage to this film when Aziraphale picks up Shax in The Bentley and obviously S2 contains a plot surrounding a mystery related to a character who has lost their memory in Gabriel. I'm going to do a separate thing that is a deeper dive into this with particular emphasis on how the lead characters relate to Crowley and Aziraphale at another point in time because it crosses into too many other things to fit it into this one at the moment but the reason why I bring the film up now is because of its ties to the phrase "vavoom."

"Vavoom", alternatively spoken as "va va voom" and containing the same meaning, is thought to have originated in a cartoon in the late 1940s but its use in "Kiss Me Deadly" in 1955 is what pushed it into popular, cultural use and knowledge. In the film, there's a character named Nick, who is friends with the two leads (the Crowley & Aziraphale-paralleling Hammer and Velda). They have nicknamed him "Va Va Voom" because he says it so often. Nick is an auto mechanic who works on the leads' car-- yes, there's a Bentley parallel lol-- and it is his use of the phrase that made it one we are familiar with today. But what does it really mean exactly in terms of this scene in the pub?

Without going too far down the road that we wind up in another meta about wordplay and symbolism in S2 here, the show is doing things related around the word 'passion' and all of its various meanings. It begins with Aziraphale referring to Maggie's feelings for Nina as "a pash"-- which is British English slang for "a crush" or "an infatuation". It comes from the word "passion"... but the word "passion" actually means something much different. "Passion" is very specifically romantic, erotic love when used to describe a relationship. It means enthusiasm when about a hobby or the like-- Aziraphale will get the neighbors to come to the meeting/ball by negotiating their commitment based on things they're passionate about-- Mr. Arnold and Doctor Who, Mutt and the history of magic. Finally, S2 is tying a lot of this passion-related plot to *The* Passion-- as in, The Passion of the Christ, or the Christian phrase for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Why is it called 'The Passion' anyway? Because the Latin root of 'passion' is 'pati', which actually means 'to suffer.' Looking at all of this and how the show pairs up scenes with different types of passion is a whole other meta. I'm bringing it up here because of the relationship between 'passion' and 'vavoom'...

"Vavoom" means voluptuously sexy. It means passionate. Something having a sense of "vavoom" or "vavavoom" means it is either suggestive of or is sensually pleasing. In GO S2, Maggie & Nina represent the pash use of passion-- the new love, the crush-- while Crowley & Aziraphale are the show's example of passion in its fuller, richer meaning of romantic, erotic love. So now that we eliminated the idea that Crowley is talking about having seen an example of this vavoom he's talking about in a movie-- I mean, 'Kiss Me Deadly' is totally a movie Crowley saw once so he might have first heard the phrase in it, like many people did but there's no vavoom itself the way Crowley describes it in the film, just the phrase-- but yeah, now that we've eliminated the idea that Crowley got his idea from a film, we can say with relative ease that he's talking about something he personally experienced. I think we can all agree that if he did, it was with Aziraphale and the purpose of him bringing it up in the scene is not just as a suggestion to solve the issue of needing to matchmake The Shop Lesbians but as a way of being seductive towards Aziraphale.

This is also part of 'Kiss Me Deadly' in that Crowley here is the Velda to Aziraphale's Hammer. Hammer is preoccupied with the mystery. Velda tries to help him solve it but is also seeking his romantic attention the whole time and being rebuffed in favor of the mystery. It's darker in the film, as you'd probably expect, since it's film noir, and Aziraphale is actually subtly playing back in GO S2. In GO, it's mostly played off as Crowley, kicked out of bed since the religious family are in the guest room lol, continuously making overtures towards Aziraphale to torment him a little for the whole Gabriel situation but also mainly just because he likes to and he misses him. (It has been, like, maybe 18 whole hours lol.) He continues it into later in the day when Muriel is in the bookshop and Aziraphale is a little more overtly playful then but he is in the pub scene as well. All of this also ties into the fact that Aziraphale wants to drive The Bentley but again, that's a whole other meta. Going to stay focused on the kiss here...

So what we're saying is that, in the scene in The Dirty Donkey, Crowley does that whole lean and the sexy hands and that super posh voice he does from time to time to seduce Aziraphale, and describes their first kiss back to Aziraphale when asked to come up with a romantic solution to help their neighbors realize they are in love. Specifically, Crowley says this:

Whew. *fans self* Jesus, Crowley... No wonder why Aziraphale thought you could help The Shop Lesbians. That? Was romantic...

The key thing I love about this is that while everything he says lends itself to the idea of a kiss, he doesn't actually explicitly say that until the later scene in the back room when Muriel is in the bookshop-- the "one fabulous kiss" part. It's evident later on when he explains the plan to Jimbriel and when he puts it into action that his intent is to trigger a scenario that might prompt Maggie and Nina into kissing and when the awning collapses, he feels like he failed at the overall Vavoom. He did, however, see it working from across the street, such were the fireworks, when they looked into each other's eyes and what's sweet and also very hot about this scene in the pub is that the looking into each other's eyes is the key bit of The Vavoom to Crowley. The kiss is what happened as a result of looking into each other's eyes. The romance of the gaze and the passion of the kiss = The Vavoom but the latter without the former isn't the whole rapturous, perfect moment and Crowley is into this moment. He's still weak in the knees over the thought of it.

And what he says happened in it? They looked into each other's eyes and realized they were made for each other? Crowley thinks that. He says that, flat out, to Aziraphale. Crowley. Who was abandoned by the God who was supposed to love him believes that same God created he and Aziraphale for each other. That they're fated, destined soulmates. And that they both knew it, in that moment when they were taking shelter from a sudden rainstorm together, under a canopy, and they gazed into each other's eyes and then

Yes, I am aware that he says "humans" in that bit in the pub scene. He's referring to Nina & Maggie but also he and Aziraphale have a tendency to refer to their love for one another in human terms in different scenes throughout the series, which is probably a whole other meta and *refocuses on finding this damn kiss here*...

So Crowley-- while heavily emphasizing the words "together" and "canopy", both for maximum sexiness and to lead us in the correct direction lol-- tells us what's needed in this scene, right? We need a sudden rainstorm, a canopy, them wet from the rain and taking shelter, Crowley's glasses to be off or he's in a situation to be able to take them off (ironically, unlike he was when he was in the pub while he's talking about all this erotic gazing), and then we have all this gazing into a very vavoom-y, very passionate first kiss.

So, what scenes seem at all remotely tied to things Crowley describes for The Vavoom? There are three scenes that jump out immediately-- and it's none of them lol. They *are not kidding* about quite literally 'three cowrie shells and a lone caraway seed'. There are three scenes that they want you to think could be connected to this and be distracted by to complete their sleight of hand trick. They want you to look towards Aziraphale's hand and not up his sleeve, so to speak.

So the three cowrie shells scenes here are Before the Beginning, Eden, and the Job minisode. Why? They are the scenes that involve Crowley and Aziraphale and some form of a canopy, which is one of the two words in Crowley's whole Vavoom moment that he heavily emphasizes. So it's not Before the Beginning and it's not Eden and why? Because we're missing the other word Crowley heavily emphasizes-- *together.* Crowley and Aziraphale took shelter from a sudden rainstorm *together* under a canopy. That's the set up. But Before the Beginning and Eden-- the first scenes our minds run to-- are not this because they are sheltering *one another* but not sheltering *together*. One of them is exposed to the rain each time.

There's an additional possibility that is thrown into the mix that is tied to these two scenes, which is the S2 announcement poster-- the one that features Crowley and Aziraphale on Whickber Street in the rain. That one is also out because Crowley is being sheltered from the rain by Aziraphale with a tartan umbrella (ridiculously adorable, I agree lol)-- but they're not both sheltering together. That one feels like it was designed just to fuck with us, especially because Crowley's hair in it is, for some reason, at Eleven Years Ago length in it. It's almost like it exists to both be cute and to, after the season is over, make us go wait... was it then? (It was not then.) More distractions. Ok, so, then what about the Job minisode?

Is it ox rib night? This seems to have some elements at play-- there's a roof and a storm and them together and all-around kiss vibes-- but it's actually not this, either. That said? Job is connected to it in a big way and helps prove my theory here so we're going to come back to it. I'll eliminate it here by pointing out that when Crowley defends The Vavoom as a possibility for Maggie & Nina to Aziraphale, he says "get humans wet and staring into each other's eyes" and "humans" in that bit is them, even if they are not fully. This eliminates the Job minisode as The Vavoom because it confirms that Crowley & Aziraphale did get wet as they went to shelter from the storm. In the Job minisode, they never go out in it. So, Job is out, too.

Ok, so then how do we find the one scene that unlocks this and points us towards the answer hidden in plain sight in front of us?

What is the one scene that really should tell us more about The Vavoom? How about the one wherein Crowley partially recreates it?

The Awning of a New Age is the lone carraway seed. Maggie & Nina paralleling Crowley & Aziraphale. What can we learn about what happened with Crowley & Aziraphale from what happened in this Maggie & Nina scene?

We already know that Crowley feels like he partially failed at recreating The Vavoom for them. It was meant to lead into a kiss and then the awning collapsed. That is what is different from Crowley & Aziraphale's first kiss but Crowley was delighted by the gazing, which we already know to be the very important bit of this here. Off of this, we can conclude that there's obviously a parallel of this bit for Crowley & Aziraphale and this is where the parallels in the scene stop. That means that what happens *before* the gazing moment in The Awning of a New Age scene is important because that's the parallel. So, what's happening while Crowley spots them together outside and starts up the rain? They're talking, right? And what are they talking about?

They're talking about one of them-- Nina-- having a partner who is unreasonably upset. Nina is anxious about it. She doesn't blame Maggie for it, as it's not Maggie's fault. It's also not Nina's own fault and what Lindsay wants from Nina is confining and abusive. Lindsay, we learn, is cruel. We decide in this scene really how much we don't like Nina with this woman and that we want her to be with nice Maggie who is sweet and supportive and is over the moon for her.

On the surface, this would seem to be absolutely nothing like any Crowley & Aziraphale scene we've ever seen, right? Fooled by what is on the surface-- modern lesbians in London Soho, one of whom has a romantic partner-- this seems to be a plot Crowley & Aziraphale have never had. Except, that it's not. It's a parallel to one you'll remember.

One, paralleling sentence here for you...

God's a bit tetchy...

Awning of a New Age unlocks that Lindsay being unreasonably angry and dolling out insane punishment for no actual misdeeds is a parallel to God during The Flood. God was Aziraphale's Lindsay-- the unseen, abusive partners, sending down their words and marching orders and causing distress. Crowley approached Aziraphale like how Maggie approaches Nina. Aziraphale half-heartedly tries to defend God the way that Nina half-heartedly tries to defend Lindsay but both pretty much give up in the face of Crowley's and Maggie's sane responses and support. The agreement that the present situation-- Lindsay about to abandon Nina, God about to abandon her creations in The Flood-- is horrible and unjust. They connect over the lack of justice. The Flood scene we saw ends as the rain begins, with Crowley and Aziraphale both looking up as it starts to fall.

Maggie and Nina get further-- they get to the first half of The Vavoom, in parallel. We haven't seen that yet with Crowley & Aziraphale. (Maggie & Nina also didn't have to go stop and save a bunch of people first lol.)

So how do we know that The Flood was the first kiss?

How do we know that Crowley and Aziraphale first kissed in Ancient Mesopotamia in fucking 3004 B.C. and have been vavoom sorted gone on each other ever since?

Because it happening in the aftermath of saving lives in The Flood would then mean it meets every one of the elements Crowley describes. They get wet from the storm. They will work to save everyone, which is evident from Aziraphale being dead fucking certain in the Job minisode that Crowley was a sweetheart who wasn't going to kill any goats or kids. How would he know this for sure? Saying that what God was doing was terrible in The Flood scene isn't enough for Aziraphale's surety by Job. That means that Mesopotamia and The Flood is the first time they teamed up. It means that Crowley saved people and animals during it. It more than likely means that he did so in a way similar to what he does during the Job minisode-- he transformed them into something that could survive the storm, probably rocks or something. (Big Medusa vibes lol.) But what would happen then? Crowley and Aziraphale would have to *stay through the storm to turn the people back*, right?

So, they'd need to seek shelter from the rainstorm. Under a canopy that could survive the storm. One they can both step back under and bump into one another beneath. Most likely, it's an actual canopy in original meaning of the word-- the shelter of trees. I think one of them (Crowley) bolted afterwards, based on the Job minisode, which we'll get to again in a second, and from under a canopy would be the easiest way to just be able to leave during a storm. (They did not spend the Biblical 40 days and 40 nights under that canopy or they almost certainly would have wound up having sex, which the show is suggesting in other scenes didn't happen for awhile after this which is also another meta lol.) But there's also another reason for trees that kind of cracks me up.

Remember when Aziraphale comes back from Edinburgh in S2 and, before he left, they had their whole Our Car/Our Bookshop thing and Crowley's been peeved for a day now over how Aziraphale got to go adventure in The Bentley and he got to wear a cardigan and babysit their former attempted murderer? And about how what he's really playfully irritated over is that he keeps trying to use Operation Shop Lesbians to turn Aziraphale on by mentioning their Vavoomy first kiss and Aziraphale is, kind of hilariously in retrospect, just totally tormenting him by barely indulging him on it? What happens when Aziraphale comes back from his trip?

Crowley-- genuinely-- says "there you are-- I was worried something had happened to you" and he's off-camera for a moment as he does so and the camera is on Aziraphale, who kind of seems like he would like one of Crowley's kisses about now. But what does Aziraphale get in place of where a kiss could have gone?

A face full of plants lol.

In their box, so that when he handed them to Aziraphale, they hung over his head like a canopy.

Don't wanna talk about The Vavoom, angel? Fine. You're just getting the trees. Mwah. *goes to his car and is all did you misssssss me kissy face*

Aziraphale, in old married bitch mode:

Finally, there's that Ancient Mesopotamia is, chronologically, the last scene so far in which Crowley is not seen wearing glasses, which is essential because Crowley-- while wearing his glasses in the pub lol-- describes the key bit of The Vavoom as involving staring into one another's eyes, which Crowley & Aziraphale can't do if Crowley has his glasses on. Since Crowley wears his glasses in approximately 87% of Good Omens, it means that the answer is in a scene where he's either not wearing them at all or could be seen as able to take them off. Mesopotamia meets that criteria. But there's still one more thing that can really hammer home the idea of this The Flood, Part 2 being their first kiss and that's going to be how we end up back at the Job minisode again.

Go back and think of the Job minisode again but now with the idea that the last time they saw one another-- ages before it-- they shared this moment of wildly passionate vavoom and look at how it recontextualizes the entire minisode.

Start with when they first see each other again. Where did *that* Aziraphale come from? He's teasing him.

The Aziraphale in Before the Beginning and in Eden and in the first bit of The Flood that we've seen is more anxious. He's not afraid of Crowley and he's definitely attracted to him but he's distracted by the dangers of what is happening while they're talking. Suddenly, he jumps from the Aziraphale of The Flood to the Aziraphale of the Job minisode. This one is flirtier. This one is literally like all so you never called-ing Bildad the Shuite lol. He's all "last time I saw you was... The Flood?" like he doesn't know and Crowley is all tight nod ohfuckit'shim and also ohfuckit'shimhavemissedhimsomuch and hiding behind his sunglasses-- Bildad is the first appearance of the sunglasses, chronologically, so we go from the Vavoomy gaze to Crowley hiding his eyes... this then all moves into the courtyard scene after a few moments...

Oh, what's this now? The only scene in the whole series in which Aziraphale asks Crowley to take his glasses off? And he does? So quickly-- intentionally-- that his expression from before is still on his face and it's just nothing but naked want like he's saying oh you wondered how I was looking at you from behind these this whole time? yeah, it was like this... Aziraphale is straight up asking for more vavoom. Take the glasses off. Look me in the eye and tell me you want this and yeah, sure, they're talking *on the surface* on *one level* of their conversation about whether or not Crowley is exhibiting serial killer tendencies and wanting to kill small animals and kids but, really, this scene is also the formation of their coded way of speaking to one another. Crowley's "I want to. I long (pause) to kill the blameless kids of Job the way I killed his blameless goats" and then lifting just enough of the magic to let Aziraphale see that he had actually not killed the goats at all but had actually faked their deaths, indicating that that was his plan for saving the kids as well... Well, it also means that *all* of what Crowley just said to him was coded. That's the weird pause after "I long" that breaks it into two sentences. It makes the second level of their conversation that Crowley whipped off his glasses, gazed into Aziraphale's eyes, and said I want to, I long... meaning, I want you, I want to kiss you again, I long for you...

But the bit of the Job episode that sells me on The Flood being The Vavoom is actually the bit just after Crowley miracles himself, Aziraphale, the kids, Jemimah's pot (because he's so not a serial killer, he saved the damn pot lol), the wine (because fuck that little Influencer Brat of Job-- Crowley's not about to kill a kid but he absolutely will drink the last of his wine for treating Aziraphale like a whore lol), and the food down to the cellar and started iguana-ing the kids. Why this bit? Because Aziraphale is fucking giddy and is just tormenting the living fuck out of Crowley.

He's all "I knew it!" and when you first watch the scene, right, you could think he means he knew that Crowley would save the kids. Yet, he already knows that by this point-- that's what the courtyard scene was. That's why he's yelling that he's "QUITE SURE" when Crowley asks him if he is (and calls him "angel" for the first time when doing so) while he's setting everything on fire just a moment before. Obviously, Aziraphale is happy that Crowley didn't kill the kids but what he's all I knew it *smug smile, actually fucking wiggling with flirty joy* about is that Crowley wanted to be alone with him again and would find a way to make it happen because what's the plan? The one that Aziraphale is totally teasing him about?

Aziraphale is going on about how oh, this is *Satan's* big plan, huh? A *big storm*? He loves every minute of it and he also really loves Crowley getting very close to him-- kissable close-- and being all "ooh aren't you brilliant?" when Aziraphale was acting smug. When did Crowley get that comfortable getting that close to him?

But yeah, Aziraphale loving every second of Crowley saving the kids, turning them into sightless/soundless iguanas, and sending a storm over the land for the night while keeping the two of them dry in a little cellar canopy so they can be alone together again-- essentially, repeating a version of The Vavoom scenario, as he'll still be trying to do millennia later... Aziraphale thought that very romantic and had no problem flirtily teasing the hell out of Crowley for it. Crowley's game is as ancient as Bildad the Shuite lol.

So yeah, what we're saying here is that there's a The Flood, Part 2 and that it's likely in S3. I actually wouldn't be surprised if it opened S3, since the first two seasons are opened with the other canopy-themed firsts-- the two first times they met, really, in Before the Beginning and Eden, both with the wing canopy-ing of one another-- so S3 could be the tree canopy and their first kiss. The Flood also seems likely to return because of how it ties thematically to the whole end of the world of S3's Second Coming plot.

One aspect of this theory that I really like is also that it means that Crowley was more female-presenting during their first kiss (which also goes along with the feminine energy sometimes associated with the phrase "vavoom"/"vavavoom") but also that when they next see one another in the Job minisode, Crowley is the more male-presenting Bildad the Shuite... and Aziraphale is really just into all of it. He's just into Crowley, full stop. We already know he is but I like the idea of it tied to their early days and showing it unfold a bit and how it's just all fine by Aziraphale, who just loves this being and is happy to see them and get to be alone with them again. It's very sweet and romantic.

I guess the last thing to say is that if this is true, we're all going to have a field day redoing the psychoanalysis of this bit below, aren't we?

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens theory #vavoom

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enveine · 4 months

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when doves cry - s. clegane: chapter one (pilot)

pairing: sandor clegane x f!eldest stark reader summary: your loyalty to your family is unwavering, a steadfast commitment that defines your character. however, navigating the turbulent waters of newfound, intense emotions for a man devoted to a family starkly opposed to your own will challenge the foundations of this loyalty. as you stand on the precipice of conflicting allegiances, the question looms: what sacrifices would you make in the name of love? rating: 18+ word count: 4.4k chapter warnings: smut, "we just met but I want to fuck you", kinda ooc sandor, language, story loosely follows the timeline of S1, semi-public sex- very risky, rough sex, reader probably cares more about what's happening then sandor does, hickeys in hidden places, unprotected piv sex, angst, "we just fucked and now we're practically going to be living together".

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The great hall of Winterfell buzzed with activity as the Stark family prepared for the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and his entourage. You were the eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, so you knew all eyes were going to be on you; a young woman of noble birth, at an age desperate to be married well. You moved gracefully through the throngs of people, your eyes keenly observing the bustling preparations. You wore a simple but elegant gown, the Stark colors proudly displayed.

A little nervous, to be expected. Nothing a little ride couldn’t fix.

On the way back, you noticed that winter truly had begun its descent upon the land, the air frigid and the wind mighty. The crunch of snow beneath the hooves of your horse echoed through the trees as you headed back towards Winterfell. You were eager to greet the royal party.

As you approached the stable, you hear the unmistakable clatter of hooves against the cobblestone. The royal retinue had arrived. Intrigued, you watch closely to see the beautiful ocean of golden banners, curiosity piqued by the impending arrival of the king.

The gate swung open, revealing the group of visitors. Your gaze was drawn to a towering figure at the back of the party. A man of imposing stature, his face hidden beneath a twisted helm, and clad in dark, rugged armor. He radiated an air of danger that made the other courtiers instinctively give him a wide berth.

Still mounted, you took a step back, closer to your direwolf Nyx. You watched him with a curious gaze. As he sat there, a silent sentinel also mounted upon his horse, you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze met your own.

"Who's that?" you inquired, directing the question to a nearby stable boy.

The boy hesitated before answering, "That's the Hound, my Lady. Sandor Clegane, the King's dog."

You clicked your tongue, “King’s dog, huh?” a small laugh, “Interesting title.”

You watched as the man dismounted, your eyes narrowing with interest. He moved with a certain controlled grace, his movements deliberate and purposeful. An unexpected shiver ran down your spine as you observed the mysterious figure. There was something about him that defied the norms of courtly behavior, an untamed quality that set him apart. In a sea of polished knights and well-mannered courtiers, he was a dark anomaly.

You couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysterious figure. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the scars that marred his face. There was a hardness in his gaze that suggested a life of brutality, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man beneath the armor.

Your eyes met for the briefest moment, a flicker of connection that sent a jolt through your spine. Quickly averting her gaze, you tried ignoring the heart pounding feeling in her chest. The Hound continued on, seemingly indifferent to the glances and whispers that followed him. After his eyes left yours, you couldn’t help but watch his every move again. That man, Sandor Clegane, he was beautiful.

And he was coming right towards you.

As you dismounted her horse, the Hound's attention shifted briefly to her. You felt a twinge of discomfort under his scrutinizing gaze, but being the strong-minded Stark you were, held your ground. Nyx, ever vigilant, growled softly at the Hound, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"You a Stark girl?" he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of warmth.

You nodded, a defiant yet humorous spark in your eyes. "Well I stand before you wearing Stark colors. I’d hope so. (Y/N) Stark. And you are?"

"The Hound. Sandor Clegane," he replied with a hint of mockery. "King's dog, they call me."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "A dog, you say?” In a bold move, your eyes slowly moved up and down, taking in a good look of his entire figure. “I don’t see a collar.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a reluctant smirk. It was a rare sight, a crack in his stoic facade.

“Well, dog, I hope you’re house-trained.”

Your exchange was brief, but in that moment, something shifted. A connection, unspoken and unacknowledged, lingered between the two of you. The Hound turned away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and an unsettling awareness that even though you’d just met that man—you wanted more of him.

Later that night, the great hall of Winterfell resounded with the clinking of goblets and the boisterous laughter of the guests. You found yourself drawn into the festivities, attempting to put aside the enigmatic encounter with Sandor Clegane. The feast in honor of King Robert Baratheon's visit was in full swing, and the Stark family showed they knew how to put together an extravagant feast.

As the night progressed, you caught glimpses of him across the crowded hall. His presence was ominous, and whispers of him still followed like shadows. Your curiosity mingled with a sense of unease, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that your brief exchange held a significance you couldn't fully comprehend.

You continued to mingle among the noble guests, trying to keep your eyes away from Sandor. But to no avail, you watched in-between pointless conversations as he stood at the outskirts of the celebration. His gaze fixed on the revelry with a mix of disdain and disinterest and you felt a peculiar pull, as if the currents of destiny were nudging you toward the enigmatic man.

An unexpected voice interrupted you in the middle of your thoughts. "(Y/N), you seem quite taken with the Hound," spoke your younger sister, Sansa Stark, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow and snorted out a laughter, attempting to conceal the obvious interest written in your eyes. "Taken? No, my dear Sansa. Merely curious. He is a formidable figure, after all." You put your arm between hers, nudging her body in the direction of the man who looked quite bored. “You know what mother always tells us. We are wolves, we must be the ones to pounce before the others.”

Sansa's gaze flitted between you and the man in question, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, just be careful. Rumors say he has a fearsome temper."

You chuckled at her, feigning nonchalance. "Rumors are just that—rumors. I'm sure there's more to him than meets the eye."

“Rumor has it that I think you’re full of rubbish.” She replied, a playful laugh falling from her lips.

“Oh Sansa, run off. Father needs you.” You nodded in the direction of your father, clearly enjoying his conversation with King Robert and his son, Joffrey.

Poor Sansa, you thought, that boy looks like nothing but trouble.

As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross again. And fate intervened sooner than expected. The King's squire, Lancel Lannister, approached you with a cup of wine.

"From the Hound," he declared, offering you the goblet.

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. You glanced in the direction of the Hound, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. Taking the wine, you nodded back with a small smile, and Lancel retreated into the shadows.

As you sipped the wine, the rich flavor lingered on her lips. As you found yourself drawn once more Sandor, you wondered what he’d taste like lingering on your lips. As your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between the two of you—a forming connection, born from the flames of need for passion.

Eventually, after a few more cups of wine, you found yourself standing at the edge of the hall, watching the dancers twirl to the music. A deep voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "You fancy dancing, Lady (Y/N)?"

You turned to find Sandor standing there, his burned face impassive. "I can dance if the occasion calls for it," you replied, your eyes meeting his with something you couldn’t describe, but you could definitely feel it.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She’s a wolf with claws, then."

You were undeterred by his nature, offering a playful smile. "You sure seem to enjoy lurking in the shadows, Ser Clegane. Is that where you find your solace?"

He grunted, a low sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Solace is overrated. I prefer the edge of the firelight."

You tilted your head, curls cascading over your shoulder. "A mysterious man, I see. Are you afraid the light will reveal too much?"

Sandor's lips twitched into a half-smile, a rare sight on his scarred face. "Some things are better left in the dark."

Leaning in, you whispered, "But not everything. Some things are meant to be uncovered." You caught the glint in his eye, a flicker of something lustful beneath the rough exterior.

The conversation continued, the banter growing more flirtatious with each exchange. You teased and prodded, finding amusement in the unexpected connection you felt with the man. He, in turn, responded with a gruff charm that surprised even himself.

Eventually, he left you with short instructions, “Broken tower.”

At last, you found yourself in the quiet solitude with the idea of getting to know Sandor better. In a way you’d known nobody before. The anticipation of his presence weighed on you, and a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, one that held the promise of a connection that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong.

A soft knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when you opened it, there he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over his scarred face, softening the harsh lines that had witnessed battles and hardships.

"I thought we might continue our conversation," he rumbled, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard, especially when he roughly grabbed your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, trying your best to close the door.

The room pulsed with palpable tension, igniting like a fervent flame, as your hands yearned to make contact with him in every possible manner. The warmth emanating from your skin created a contrast against the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. Restless and eager, your hands became a silent testament to the unspoken urgency of your desire.

Sandor's gaze remained fixed on yours throughout, ablaze with a passion you had long yearned for—a fervor you couldn't fathom experiencing with the man standing before you.

Your teeth sank into his lower lip, coaxing a resonant, primal groan from him, prompting his reluctant withdrawal. "She's a wolf with claws and teeth," he chuckled, wiping away the trace amount of blood that had emerged from the newfound wound.

Rather than offering a response, your body found itself pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gently mitigating the impact on your head. "Couldn’t very well carry our conversation with your lips against mine," you remarked at last, tilting your head to the side as his lips met the tender skin of your neck.

He stopped for a moment- another faint chuckle coming before continuing, “aye, that was the point.”

Sandor persisted in tracing kisses along your neck, momentarily pausing only to leave subtle bites in places known only to him. In this moment, he recognized that he was on the brink of losing all restraint, evident in the autonomy of his hands, which seemed to explore every inch of your body with a desire you willingly indulged. Oh, how willingly you would allow him to continue.

“Sandor, please, I need-” you were cut off mid sentence by him grabbing your right leg and wrapping it around his waist. The cold metal hid his hardening cock—the feeling of it against your warm skin made you anticipate his every move. “If we’re g-gonna do this.. we need to hurry..”

“You need to keep quiet.”

His lips descended, caressing the delicate fabric of your dress. His fingers deftly maneuvered to release you from its confines with a sense of urgency; there was an animalistic quality to his actions—rough fingers, accompanied by soft growls, responding to the rhythmic dance of your body against his determined hold. A silent plea resonated, a tacit acknowledgment that you craved everything he was willing to bestow upon you.

A hushed stillness enveloped the space for the next few moments, broken only when he skillfully lowered your dress, unveiling your tits. Sandor's fingers delicately traced the contours of each nipple, his unwavering gaze captivated by their response. With each circular motion, they seemed to intensify in firmness, a testament to the heightened sensitivity your body exhibited in mere minutes of his touch. He reveled in the allure of your immediate responsiveness.

If anyone were to walk in they’d see such a pornographic sight: the beloved, eldest daughter of Ned Stark, nipples hard and swollen, dress hiked up to her waist while the Prince’s hound let her hump his armor. By this point, you'd wager that the burgeoning dampness in your silk panties had left its mark on the cool silver surface, a silent proclamation of your possession of the man. Yet, the mutual understanding between you both acknowledged that any unsuspecting onlooker venturing in would be treated to an undeniable spectacle.

If this were your first time, perhaps a hint of nervousness would have crept in, particularly as you sensed his hands gently sliding your panties down to your knees. Yet, even in such a moment, his adept handling imparted a profound sense of security. This man, bound by oath to safeguard his King, was now silently pledging to protect you with equal devotion.

But, fortunately, nothing could protect your body from what Sandor was about to do.

Seating himself on the ground after loosening his leather pants, he then drew you down to join him. As you settled onto his lap, he playfully grazed against your entrance with his cock, all the while continuing his descent of kisses along your neck. With a stern tone, he uttered, "My Lady, speak the word and I’ll stop."

Gazing into his eyes, you found them ablaze with desire, mirroring the fervor you sensed within yourself. His captivating eyes, the unsteady cadence of his breath, and the formidable frame enveloping you in its embrace—you desired nothing else in that moment.

“I don’t think such words exist.” You whispered.

At last, your lips met again with an intense passion, and as he slowly pushed his cock inside, his kiss carried a raw urgency that you eagerly reciprocated. Midway, a soft moan escaped as an indescribable sensation stirred in your stomach. Gazing down, your eyes caught a glimpse of your warmth enveloping him voraciously—a hunger akin to a famished wolf.

Sandor wasn’t even in completely.

His hips moved gradually against yours, a measured rhythm aiming to acquaint you with his full length. Pressed chest to chest, he sensed the rapid cadence of your intense heartbeat, but as his fingers traced small circles on your thighs, he felt it gradually subside. Sandor understood that in due course, he would sense the resurgence of your elevated heart rate, particularly when he ultimately filled you entirely. The connection was palpable, your pelvis intimately aligned with his.

He sustained a consistent rhythm, guiding your hips in a reciprocal dance of thrusts. The entire encounter was swift and purposeful, each thrust delivered with a sense of urgency, as if time were a constraint. In a sense, it was, considering the uncertainty of someone stumbling upon you at any moment.

Yet, beneath it all, an undercurrent of passion prevailed. The symphony of your gasps harmonized with his occasional groans, creating a melodic atmosphere. Your hand remained anchored on the back of Sandor's neck like a steadying handlebar, providing support as his thrusts intensified. It felt fitting that this was how Sandor Clegane fucked his women—clothed, he embodied roughness and intensity; how could one become tender and affectionate when undressed?

The familiar sensation of tightness formed in your stomach, and truth be told, there was a hint of disappointment in how swiftly the entire encounter unfolded. Yet, the lack of surprise lingered; he had proven to be the quickest in getting you into bed. The inexplicable allure he held over you remained a mystery, but in this moment, such thoughts were irrelevant—especially when you stood on the brink of blissful release.

Suddenly, a surge of sensation swept over you as his hand enveloped your throat. Sandor felt the subtle tightening of your walls around his cock, a telltale sign that you were teetering on the edge. He sought to bring you to that exquisite pleasure. Amidst the crescendo of your growing moans reverberating against the tower walls, his grip tightened, not to stifle your ecstasy but to cloak the sounds and shield the secrecy of your rendezvous.

As tears cascaded down your cheeks in response to the overwhelming pleasure, he spoke, "That's it, (Y/N), that's it…" It was as if he momentarily shed his usual demeanor, softening as he observed you in your vulnerable state. However, amidst the whirlwind that had your head spinning and everything fading to white, the only thing you could truly register was the profound impact of your orgasm.

Sandor wasn't far behind, withdrawing as you caught your breath, leaving your back adorned in ribbons of white cum. A soft whine escaped you as you felt it trickle down, accompanied by his heightened groans that surpassed those from when he was inside you. The aftermath left both of you in a hushed stillness, contemplating who would break the silence first. It was him, rising to his feet after moving your body off his lap and discreetly tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. He handed you a handkerchief, a gesture to cleanse the now drying traces from your back.

You wondered whether he would abandon you in the tower, retreat to his quarters, or perhaps rejoin the now dwindling party. To your surprise, he didn't. Instead, he extended his hand, helping you rise and assisting in the process of reclothing yourself. It was a considerate gesture, you acknowledged, yet it only added to the palpable tension that seemed to be mounting. You were certain Sandor could discern it in your expression—the subtle frown betraying your disappointment that the encounter had concluded. As you gazed at him, you searched for any sign of shared sentiment, any indication that he, too, would miss the intimacy you had just shared. Regrettably, you found nothing.

The air outside the tower was crisp, and the moon cast a silvery glow across the surroundings as Sandor led you down the winding path to your quarters. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the tension between you two lingering even in the cool night air.

The journey was silent, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. Sandor's hand, firm yet strangely comforting, guided you through the dimly lit passages of the castle.

As you approached your quarters, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. There was a longing for something more, a desire to bridge the gap between the intimacy you'd just shared and the reality of the castle walls around you. The silence between you spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in.

Upon reaching your door, Sandor released your hand, and for a moment, it felt like a sudden loss. He stood there, his expression unreadable in the muted moonlight. You searched his eyes for any sign of what lay beneath the surface, but they remained enigmatic.

"Goodnight, Lady (Y/N)," Sandor gruffly uttered, breaking the silence. The words hung in the air, a simple farewell laden with unspoken complexities.

"Goodnight, Sandor Clegane," you replied, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of something unsaid. As you entered your quarters, the door closing behind you, the weight of the night settled in.

Alone in the hushed sanctuary of your quarters, the echoes of the night's encounter reverberated through the room. The emotions, like an unruly storm, swirled within you, and the dam holding them back began to crack.

As you stood there, the weight of what had transpired bore down on you. The tears, uninvited, welled up in your eyes and spilled over, tracing the contours of your cheeks. It wasn't just the physical intimacy that left you shaken; it was the tangled web of emotions that accompanied it.

Regret gnawed at you, and confusion settled in like a heavy fog. What had led you to this precipice, and where did you stand now? The vulnerability of the moment washed over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Fumbling with the fastenings of your dress, you sought solace in the act of undressing, as if shedding the layers would somehow alleviate the burden you carried. The moonlight filtering through the window cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the isolation you felt.

Laying on the bed, your tears soaked into the fabric beneath you, a silent lament for the choices made and the uncharted territories navigated. The intimacy, though a fleeting connection, left a profound impact, and the aftermath left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

As the night wore on, the tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a quiet ache and a lingering question of what the dawn would bring. In the solace of your room, you found yourself wrestling with the complexities of desire, regret, and the uncertain path ahead.

The morning sun painted Winterfell in hues of gold, casting a warm light over the courtyard. Despite the tender touch of dawn, the echoes of the previous night's emotions still sat within your heart.

A soft knock on your door signaled the entrance of your father, whose countenance bore the strength of responsibility. "(Y/N)," he began with a softness, "gather your sisters. There's something we must discuss."

Compelled by both curiosity and a lingering sense of unrest, you summoned Arya and Sansa to join you in the family chambers. As the three of you assembled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the room, foreshadowing the gravity of your father's impending words.

Ned stood before you, a stalwart figure. "My daughters," he started, his voice bearing both love and gravitas, "a change is upon us. I have been offered the position of Hand of the King by King Robert."

Sansa's eyes widened, Arya's skepticism palpable, and you exchanged a glance with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

"We will be relocating to King's Landing," Ned continued, his gaze encompassing each of you. "It is an honor, but with it comes great responsibility. The court is a labyrinth of politics and intrigue, and I need my family by my side."

Arya's rebellious spirit simmered beneath the surface, while Sansa's excitement mingled with trepidation. As for you, the events of the night before lingered, making the move to King's Landing feel like an unexpected twist in the intricate tapestry of your life.

Amidst the familial exchanges, there was another silent dance occurring—one between you and Sandor. His eyes constantly drew your gaze. It was as if an invisible thread connected you, and in those moments, the world around you blurred as your eyes met his, wordlessly conveying a shared understanding of the complexities unfolding.

Ned Stark, seemingly oblivious to the subtle interplay, continued to outline the responsibilities that awaited the Stark family in the capital. As he spoke, your eyes frequently found Sandor's, and each exchange carried a weight of unspoken emotions. His gaze, normally guarded, held a hint of something that transcended the stoic exterior he presented to the world.

When Ned mentioned the unity of the Stark family in facing the challenges ahead, your eyes involuntarily sought out Sandor's once more. In that shared gaze, there was a recognition that echoed the uncertainties of the path ahead and the uncharted territories that lay before you.

The air seemed heavy with the weight of impending change as you sought out Sandor in the quiet corners of the castle. You found him in a secluded courtyard, the familiar hounds of House Stark milling about nearby. The atmosphere was tense, and the silent exchange of glances from before lingered in your mind.

"Sandor," you began, your voice cutting through the stillness. He turned to face you, his expression guarded but expectant.

The words tumbled out, the night before demanding acknowledgement. "What happened between us… it was unexpected, and now with the move to King's Landing, I don't know what this means."

Sandor's gaze, normally impenetrable, softened in a rare display of vulnerability. "It means nothing, my Lady. Just a moment in time, and we move on."

But you couldn't shake the lingering questions. "Is that all it was to you? Just a moment?"

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty. "It was more than that, but it's not something that fits into our worlds."

A surge of frustration mixed with a tinge of sadness swept over you. "Our worlds? What does that mean, Sandor? We're both headed to King's Landing. We're both a part of whatever is coming next."

His gaze held a complexity that mirrored the conflict within. "In King's Landing, there's a different kind of game being played. I’m not the one to bring into your world, and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."

The words stung, but there was a resignation in his tone, as if he sought to shield you from the harsh realities he faced daily.

You took a step closer, unwilling to let the unspoken linger. "I can decide what world I belong to, Sandor. And right now, I want to understand what this is between us."

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctance. "We're just two people caught up in a storm. Best not to overthink it."

Before you could press further, the sound of footsteps approached, and the courtyard suddenly felt less secluded. Sandor's eyes met yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you.

"In King's Landing, things will have to change," he muttered, his tone a gruff acknowledgment of the challenges ahead.

The bittersweet taste of truth lingered in the air as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead. A silent understanding passed between you, a farewell woven with unspoken regrets and the inevitability of parting ways.

As the distance between your bodies widened, the courtyard seemed to stretch infinitely. The angst that clung to the parting moments left an indelible ache, a silent ache that would resonate in the chambers of your heart long after the echoes of Sandor's footsteps faded into the shadows.

"I don't want to lose you," you confessed in your mind.

#sandor clegane smut #smut #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #the hound #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #the hound x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #reader insert #got smut

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emeritusemeritus · 9 months

Text

Property of Fred G. Weasley

(Gif not mine)

Title: Property of Fred G. Weasley.

Pairing: FredWeasley x Gryffindor!reader (established relationship)

Timeline: Non-specified (all characters are above the age of consent)

Summary: Gryffindor!Reader is tired of people not knowing which twin she is in a relationship with. She makes a public declaration to counter this and her boyfriend sees it all, luckily for her.

Warnings: Sexual themes, Mentions of sex but no actual description or smut, established Relationship, possessive behaviour, potential possession kink.

You'd had enough. Enough of the incessant questioning, enough of the rumours and accusations.

Unfazed by the small crowd around you, you threw down the book that was open in your lap as you slid off the couch and took a large step up onto the wooden coffee table so that you could simultaneously address everyone listening in within the Gryffindor common room. The coffee table added just enough height so that you stood proudly, looming over everyone as you prepared to make your statement.

Luckily for you, the Gryffindor common room was quiet this evening with only a few of your friends and classmates huddled round in the dim, cozy room as you played games and talked until you retired for the night.

Everyone else in Gryffindor was likely still celebrating from the quidditch win earlier that evening or catching the end of dinner before the kitchens closed, hence why you were the only ones occupying the space.

You and a few others had been unfortunate enough to land yourself in detention with Snape this evening, which in itself was entirely awful, but he had at least been uncharacteristically considerate enough to allow you to get an early dinner beforehand. It had however, meant that you had missed the mid season quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and you'd only found out about the house win when you'd returned to the common room.

The group of inquisitors you called friends watched on at your uncharacteristic actions, watching with curiosity and disbelief as you made your way up onto the table. You weren't sick of their constant questions per se but you were overwhelmingly frustrated at their blatant disregard of the facts and misguided attempts at definition.

"For the last time, I'm dating Fred Weasley! Not George, not Bill and bloody hell even Ginny at this point! Not 'one of the twins' because you're too frigging lazy to figure out who's who and think you'll be right 50% of the time by blindly guessing! Fred. Weasley. No I'm not dating both, I don't get them mixed up and I've never once kissed George by accident. I'm Fred's girl!"

Ginny and Hermione who were sat beside you on the couch look on in wonder, attempting to hide their giggles behind their hands at your rant. Truth was, neither of them were truly able to tell the twins apart either, as most couldn't, but at least they respected your choice between the identical pair, knowing which one was your boyfriend.

You suddenly turned, quieter now as you focused your attention on Alicia Spinnet who was looking at you with wide eyes. Her question had been the catalyst to your outburst and she looked stricken and nervous at the thought.

"Now, does that answer your question?" You said calmly though your tone was dripping with sarcasm. She merely nodded in reply and fell silent again.

You smirked at her sarcastically, about to climb down from the table when your eye caught on the familiar shade of ginger hair standing in the corner, no doubt having crept in through the door during your rant.

Your eyes widened with embarrassment at the realisation you'd been caught out and your boyfriend had probably heard and seen your little declaration, hoping that he wouldn't be mad at you for practically shouting across the castle that you were dating. You plucked up the courage to look at his face and immediately noticed the smug smirk plastered on his face, eyes shining in amusement as he uncrossed his arms and made his way quickly over to you, his dirty red quidditch robes swishing behind him as he stalked darkly.

He silently reached out for you, holding you by the waist as he helped you down from the table, lifting you effortlessly as he brought you back down to the familiar level, him towering over you as usual. His eyes were shining with delight and amusement, his smile wide on his face as he held you tenderly, not caring about the other students all suns you.

"Fred's girl Eh?" He asked, leaning in to whisper in your ear as his right hand raised up to cup your jaw tenderly. His smirk only grew when a faint blush bloomed across your face as your wide eyes looked into his. You bit your lip nervously and nodded, feeling more confident by the second as he displayed no signs of anger at your actions.

"Fred's girl," you repeated, leaving no room for questioning as you nodded gently, a flirty smile sprouting over your own face. Fred's eyes were darkening by the second at hearing your words, knowing just how much the whole situation was playing into his mild possessiveness, knowing just how territorial he could get about you. The hand that was clutching your waist was growing ever tighter, his thumb rubbing little marks into your fleshy hips.

"Well, y/n," George says as he shifts beside you both, the only person in the common room brave enough to interrupt, "don't think anyone will be confusing you as my girlfriend anymore. Shame really," he mutters, earning a swift slap to the back of the head from Fred, who hadn't even looked away from you once despite his accuracy of the slap to his twin. George immediately gets the hint and walks away with a smug grin, chuckling lightly to himself as he goes to sit with Lee on one of the sofas. You turn your attention back to Fred who has clearly not taken his eyes off you throughout George's intrusion but does flick his eyes over to his brother and roommate quickly, seeing that they are both occupied, meaning that their dorm room is not. Without a second to spare, he reaches for your hand and begins to pull you up the stairs towards his dorm, kicking the door closed from behind with his foot as he reaches for you, pulling you into a bruising kiss, hands wandering and unintelligible murmurs against your lips.

——

You both lay beside each other attempting to reclaim your breath as a fine sheen of sweat covers both of your naked bodies, immediately feeling the exhaustion wash over you at the energy you had just used. Fred has pulled you into his chest, your naked breasts pushed against the smooth skin of his torso as his arms stay firmly locked around your waist, the bedsheets crumpled around you and entangled in your limbs.

"So, that was new," you said quietly, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere in the room. Fred shifted slightly and you turned your head to look up at his face, seeing that he was a little confused at what you were referring to, seeing as sex was far from new with you two.

"Who knew Fred Weasley had a possessiveness kink?" You smiled into his peck where your face nuzzled. Your head bobbed as he chuckled, the sound like music to your ears as he reached down to swat your bum.

"Princess, you don't know that that does to me, having everyone know that your mine."

"I think I have an idea," you joked, gesturing to your entwined, naked bodies, earning another chuckle from him.

A moment of peaceful silence passes until Fred speaks up.

"It really bothers you that much? That people think you're with George?" He asks. You can tell there's something deeply rooted in his question, a nervousness or vulnerability that he was trying to mask. You shifted in his hold and rolled onto your tummy to look at him face on, not missing his small flash of a glance at your naked breasts which earned you a cheeky smirk once he realised he'd been caught.

"I love George, he's one of my best friends and any girl would be so, so lucky to have him as her boyfriend but I'm dating you and I want everyone to know that," you say trying your best to sound extra convincing as you reeled off your thoughts.

"Well after your little performance, I doubt there's any question really," Fred jokes, immediately chuckling as you try to hide your face in his tummy in embarrassment at your actions.

"Maybe we should get T-shirt's made or something," Fred jokes, trying to pry you away from hiding your blush.

"If found return to Fred Weasley, then yours says I'm Fred and we'll get Georgie one that says not Fred!" You joked along, giggling at the thought as Fred barks out a laugh.

"Or tattoos," he adds with a shrug, "T-shirt's would be way too hard to synchronise all the time," he says jokingly playing along as if he was seriously considering. "I could get 'Fred' tattooed right across my forehead."

"Don't you dare," you say quickly, shifting your weight and reaching up with your hand to smooth back his hair from his face, your thumb rubbing over the exact forehead he had just mentioned desecrating.

"A tattoo wouldn't be such a bad idea though..." you said wistfully, drawing his attention back to you as an idea washed over you. You reached out for his left hand and guided his fingers down your body to rest just above your mound, near your right hip.

"Property of Fred Gideon Weasley, marked right here..."

You really should have anticipated his next move, knowing what your little game would do but as you were unceremoniously thrown onto the bed with a freshly aroused boyfriend towering over you, you couldn't help but let out a tiny squeak, seeing how far his eyes had darkened at your words, suddenly finding his possessiveness bubbling over once again.

He loomed over you, his naked body encasing and dwarfing yours completely as he looked at you with hunger in his eyes. That look meant only one thing; you would not be leaving the bed for quite a while.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x you #harry potter #fred weasley imagine

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squirmhoney · 2 months

Text

LIFE'S BETTER ON SATURN |

PART TWO

A/N: Sorry for the warnings but reader has been going through it since the last part. Also I read through this once, it was way too long to read through several times. Enjoy.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Warning: Dark Smut. Fingering. Oral. Pet names. Praise. Overstimulation. Submissive behaviour. Violence. Kidnapping. Drugging. Angst. Suicide attempt. Mentions of depressive thoughts. Non canon ages. 18+ Context: Timeline is based loosely on the "Batman: Under the Redhood" comic. However, characters are aged up. Jason and reader are 18+.

PART ONE HERE

As always Minors DNI.

Some days were better than others but you hadn’t had a truly low day for at least three years now.

People grieve in different ways, that’s what you would say. However, every time you talked to Dick, which was an occasional call every month or so, he’d tell you it wasn’t healthy. You’re latching onto a ghost, I really think you should see a therapist.

You’d always roll your eyes, making up the quickest excuse you could muster up. Normally it was the little money you had, how could you possibly afford therapy while working some shitty receptionist job at the Gotham City’s Police Department.

Bruce would pay for it.

That name still made your whole body tense, bile rising up in your throat. You never had forgiven him, especially after bumping him into last year and being introduced to Tim Drake, clearly his next prodigy.

After threatening to cut contact with Dick as well, he stopped nagging and allowed you to live your life. Even if he didn’t see it as a life worth living.

Today was one of the more sombre days as you walked through the Gotham streets to get to work.

The streets were too busy for comfort as people constantly bumped into you and you knew you shouldn’t have bothered to answer your phone but you hadn’t been thinking when you saw Dick’s name light up your screen.

When a heavy shoulder crashed into yours, your phone had gone flying into the crowd of people. Only to find it crumpled on the floor in pieces within seconds.

Once five o'clock rolled around, you had completely forgotten that Dick had called you this morning and that you had been meaning to call him back. The only thought in your mind was the leftovers you had in the fridge.

When you stepped through your front door, you realised that the winter breeze had made its way through into your shabby one bedroom apartment. You were quick to turn the heating on before running over to close the window you had managed to leave open.

That should have been your first sign.

Unfortunately, out of all Bruce Wayne’s adoptive children, you had always been the last one to catch onto things.

It was only when you reached your bedroom did you realise something wasn’t right. Your drawers were open and were completely emptied. But you tried to not let that alarm you, carrying on with your routine as usual as you walked back into the kitchen.

Your pistol was in the kitchen, you thought to yourself as your feet dragged you there.

In the darkness of your front room you couldn’t see him and you were glad that you hadn’t yet turned on all the lights. You had a chance.

You were slow in opening the drawer next to the sink, trying to make it seem as seamless as possible.

But then you could feel him behind you and you found yourself twisting around, gun aiming for the man in front of you.

You had never seen this man before, the outfit he was wearing too expensive to be some random thug working for someone else.

His attire was all black, military armour, almost how you remembered the other’s suits when you had last seen them. Then there was his mask, a crimson red, attached mechanically to the rest of his suit, some sort of technology you weren’t familiar with.

Bullets were sure to be useless against him. They’d probably end up bouncing off, doing more damage to you than him.

“Don’t come any closer,” you sternly said, trying not to seem as scared as you were.

You were terrified, this man literally towered over you. The way he tilted his head, mocking you as you aimed the gun directly at his head.

“I’m warning you,” your voice was shaky, hands trembling as you clutched onto the pistol.

“I bet you wished you had learnt a bit of self defence,” the robotic voice said, taking a step closer to you.

“I don’t need it.” You eyed him from head to toe, hoping to see a weak point in his armour, anything to help you out.

“You and I both know bullets aren’t going to do anything,” He took a step closer, the gun pressing against his chest.

You were trembling, eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to hold it together. “I won’t go with you,” you spat at him.

“You don’t have a choice,” he closed the distance between you now, gloved hands covering yours.

“We always have a choice,” your voice croaked, a sob lodged at the back of your throat as you flipped the gun, holding it against your chest.

“Y/N,” he demanded, hands moving against yours.

“I won’t go,” you cried out, finger moving over the trigger.

But it was too late, the man had swiftly aimed the gun away from you, the bullet flying into the wall. He pried the gun out of your hand then, throwing it across the room and into the darkness.

You crumbled then, sliding against the cabinets behind you into a heap on the floor.

“Are you crazy?” The man questioned.

He wasn’t as close as he was before you realised and before you knew it, you found yourself scrambling for the door.

But as your hand reached for your door, an arm wrapped around your waist while a cloth was placed over your face. You inhaled what must have been chloroform, leaving you unconscious in seconds.

Death would have been better than this, you thought. Anything but this.

You awoke wrapped in silk sheets, head fuzzy still from the drugs you had inhaled and eyes taking their time to fully open.

It took a little while to remember what had happened, your groggy mind going over the details as you fought to lift your body from the sheets. Once the drugs wore off a bit more, you found yourself scrambling around to find some sort of light source in this dark room, knocking things over in the process.

“There’s a switch to the right side of the bed,” a voice called out from another room.

For a moment you froze, before your hand slid against the wall beside you, finding what you had been looking for.

You blinked at the brightness, taking a moment to adjust before you looked around the room. It wasn’t at all how you expected. Beige walls and duvet set you were draped in to match. An oak bookshelf opposite the bed and a pair of cream bedside tables to either side of you.

It was almost homely and it made you hesitant to move.

“It took you a while to wake up,” the voice was back again, coming closer now. “I thought you’d wake up on the journey at least.”

You didn’t know what to do, searching around the room for something to use as a weapon.

“I was honestly a bit worried about you there.”

He walked into the room still dressed head to toe in that suit of his and you were still defenceless as you sat in the middle of what you imagined was his bed.

“You haven’t been out that long. We’ve only been here ten minutes.”

He didn’t even walk over to you, passing the bed and walking through another door to the side, out of sight.

At the bottom of the bed was an oversized t-shirt and what looked to be a pair of your pyjama shorts laid out.

“Are these clothes supposed to be for me?” You asked, your mind struggling to wrap around what was going on.

“I thought you’d want to change into something a bit more comfortable when you woke up,” his voice was different when he spoke now and you were sure he had taken off his mask.

You wanted to say you almost recognised it.

Your fingers touched the material of the t-shirt that clearly belonged to the stranger, realising there was no harm in changing into it. You were probably feeding into some sort of sick fantasy but if it kept you safe, then you’d play into it.

“Why have you brought me here?” You asked.

“Where did you expect I’d take you?” He retorted.

“A warehouse or something,” you replied.

“You’ve listened to too many of Dick’s stories.”

It hit you then, there was no denying it. You could literally feel your heart thudding in your chest as you turned the corner, reaching to where the man was standing.

You couldn’t even look up, eyes taking in the purple and blue bruises that littered his back and rib cage. His face was ducked down towards the sink, covered by his hands as he seemed to be washing his face.

But you didn’t need to see his face to know who it was.

“Jay.”

You felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs, struggling to breathe as your hand reached out to him. But then you felt yourself stumble backwards, hand clutching at your chest.

“It can’t be,” you said to yourself, eyes closing as you pushed out the thought.

He was dead. He wasn’t coming back.

“No, no, no...” You repeated, gasping for air at this point.

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you and you felt his hand grab yours as he placed it against his chest. “Open your eyes.”

“No,” You cried.

“It’s me, Y/N,” his tone was almost as distraught as yours. “Look at me.”

You did.

He shared the same dark hair and teal eyes as your Jason. The same chiselled features and sharp nose. He’d lost the roundness of his cheeks, completely dropping the baby weight his body used to hold onto. Then there were the bags underneath his beautiful eyes, showing the tiredness that time had done to him.

But it still wasn’t fully registering as you took him in.

“Breathe,” he demanded of you, pressing his free hand against your chest.

You let in harsh breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you realised it was him.

“Breathe.”

You sat on different ends of his couch, unable to stop staring at each other.

A part of you wanted to touch him, to reassure yourself that the man across from you was Jason. While another part was still trying to register it all.

He explained everything from that terrible night he had never returned home to you, to the Joker beating him to death, then to the lazarus pit. Then there was the time after that, unsure of who he was or where he was, wondering about different countries he couldn’t even name. His memory wasn’t all there for the first two years but it eventually came back, along with you.

“Why didn’t you just take your mask off when you came to my apartment?” You asked, feeling more relaxed now.

“It’s been years,” Jason reminded you. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“I think it would have been better than me trying to kill myself,” you told him.

He hummed in agreement at this. “It’s just lucky that you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Lucky for who?” Your voice was teasing.

“For the potential boyfriend,” his lips turned up into a smile at this. “God knows what I would have done to him.”

There was silence between you as you both stared at each other, unable to find the words to say. You didn’t really have anything left to say, no not really. What you really wanted to do was touch him. To feel his skin against yours until your mind became certain that he was real.

It’s as if he knew, hand grabbing your leg to yank you towards him as he said, “Come here.”

Then he was on top of you, arms caging you in as his head rested against yours.

“Touch me,” he wasn’t begging you, he was commanding, a darkness laced in his tone that you had never heard before.

“Where?” You gulped, hands fumbling beside you.

“It’s like you’ve never touched me before,” he chuckled, into your lips.

“Ja-” his name was lost on a kiss, the breath being stolen from your lungs as he took over your senses.

You were eager to kiss him back, hands tugging him further down as they wrapped behind his neck.

There was a sense of urgency between you both, your hands keeping him tied to you while his hands snaked their way under the t-shirt, hissing when he finally got to feel your bare skin. He was quick to strip it from your body, craving to see all the parts of you he had missed so dearly.

His lips were on you in an instance, leaving a wet trail from your neck as he sucked and nibbled all the way down to your chest. He was desperate to leave his mark in shades of purple and red across your skin, finding his chest ease at the sight of you covered in him.

He had been obsessive before but never like this. There was a guttural need to claim you now. To know that you were still his as much as he was yours.

He hadn’t even realised how far down he got, face resting against your lower stomach. But once he realised, there was a different need he had, one that was desperate to please you.

That was when he found himself swiftly wrapping your plush thighs around his shoulders, letting his thoughts take over.

You weren’t sure on how you felt about this, you felt like the pair of you were going too fast. You hadn’t seen each other in five years and in a few hours of being together, you were already wrapped up in each other’s limbs.

Those thoughts were soon buried when you felt his fingers slide against your clothed pussy, wriggling from the unexpected touch.

“Hold still,” he growled at you.

But you felt his words on your core, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin of your thighs, making it harder for you to not move.

“I fucking missed this,” he whispered, nose nudging against your clit. He couldn’t help but take a sniff before licking a long stripe across the material.

It was amusing how squeamish you were, he couldn’t even deny how much it was feeding into his ego. Even years after him being gone you were still wrapped around his finger as much as he was wrapped around yours.

When his fingers finally slid underneath your pyjama shorts, he almost lost it, being instantly met with your soaked lips.

“Tell me I’m the only one that can get you wet like this,” he demanded, sliding one finger across your folds. “Tell me.”

“You’re the only one that gets me wet like this, Jay,” you swore, looking down at him with pleading wet eyes.

“No one better not have touched this pussy.”

His eyes changed at the thought, growing darker, cold as he narrowed them at you.

It almost scared you.

“No one, Jay.”

His face softened at that, fingers sinking into the place you needed him most. You couldn’t help it when you squirmed this time, his thick fingers stretching you out.

He didn’t seem to care though, too focused on how your spongy walls felt around his fingers. Too busy imagining how it would feel around his cock later.

“You’re so tight,” he commented, entranced in the way your walls squeezed him, basically pushing him out. It was all the confirmation he needed, and at the realisation, his body relaxed. Not all the way of course, not when his fingers were being soaked by your cunt.

You whined at him when his fingers slid out of your cunt, craning your neck awkwardly to try and see what he was doing. But he was swift in his movements, ripping your shorts down until you were bare before him.

Without warning his mouth was on you, tongue dragging lazy circles into your clit, moaning at the taste of your juices. But he didn’t stop there, his fingers returning to their original position as they slipped into your walls, curling in and out of you as he turned you into a pathetic mess.

Your mind was reeling at this, not even sure of the noises that were being torn from your throat as his fingers set a brutal pace. All you were sure about was the burning sensation at the bottom of your stomach, growing with each flick of his tongue and push of his fingers.

He lifted himself from you, mouth detached from your cunt as he watched your form, hips bucking up to reach his face. The way he titled his head, eyebrows raising at you, told you he clearly wasn’t impressed.

He showed you how unimpressed he was, the palm of his hands slapping against your clit.

You squealed at the harsh touch, eyes widening at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay still,” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” you told him, although you weren’t sure he was listening.

His eyes continued to glare at you, nose flaring ever so slightly as if he was contemplating what he was going to do with you. Then his fingers sped up, pounding themselves inside of you as if trying to see how you would react.

But you were desperate to obey him, grounding your hips into the couch underneath you to keep yourself still.

“Good girl,” Jason cooed, sinking back down again.

He didn’t waste any time, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking at until he could hear your words slurring together as you repeated his name. You were close, he could tell by the way your walls were sucking him in now, thighs squeezing around his head a bit tighter.

“I forgot how good you taste,” he slurped, breathing harshly through his nose.

You think it was his words that sent you over the edge, the sound of his hoarse voice as he lapped at your pussy. You couldn’t even help but tug on his hair when you finally came, your other hand clawing at the couch underneath you.

You were shaking from the orgasm he was giving you, your whole body feeling the spasms of pleasure he was pushing you through. When it finally washed over you, your moaning turns into sobs and you can’t help but struggle for breath again.

Jason was there though, lips pressing against your cheeks and your eyes, hands rubbing up and down your sides as he made you feel safe.

“I’m here,” His voice is reassuring in your ear.

Your eyes flutter open to see his face, chest easing at the sight as you deeply inhale.

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” He asked, reminding you of all those years ago.

You nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he swore once again.

“I need you,” you pleaded with him, hands moving on their own accord as they trailed down his chest. “Really need you, Jay.”

He stopped your hands once they reached his belly button, not giving you the chance to touch him as he shook his head.

You pouted your lips at him. “I want to help you, Jay.”

“Later,” he told you, his hand slipping in his boxers. “I need to be inside you.”

All you could was watch him, eyes wide as you waited for him to release himself from his boxers. You hadn’t forgotten what he looked like but the sight of his cock still took you by surprise when it was out in the open.

You swore he was thicker than you remembered, maybe slightly longer too. He looked painfully hard as he stroked himself, veins popping out along his length and a thick string of pre cum leaking from the tip.

When he finally reached between your thighs, lining himself up with your entrance, you were more than ready for him. It was clear in your shaky breaths as his tip slid across your folds and the way your legs quivered when his tip finally nudged against your entrance.

Jason’s resolve was crumbling more than yours, he knew it was but he was just better at hiding it. But there was no hiding the hiss that left his lips when he finally entered your walls, fighting against the resistance from how tight you were, forcing himself in. He knew it must be painful for you especially when he noticed you were grinding on your teeth to keep it in.

“It’s okay,” you told him, hand cupping his cheek before wrapping behind his neck to pull him down. “I’m okay.”

You both laid like that for a while, his body hovering over yours as you relaxed your body to get used to him. He rocked his hips back and forth a few times, slowly testing the waters and keeping his focus solely on your face to keep some sort of self control. It wasn’t till you were nodding, wrapping your legs around him, did he finally take it further.

Years may have passed since you had been like this with each other but your bodies clearly hadn’t forgotten.

Jason showed you that as his hands wandered and his hips picked up their pace. Instantly they found a home on your chest, squeezing your breasts as they bounced.

Jason found himself entranced with the sight, ducking his head downwards to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. While his mouth sucked against one, tongue licking over the sensitive bud, his fingers teased the other, pinching it gently.

It was muscle memory to Jason and you felt like he was playing you like an instrument, sharply gasping for air at the sensation. You wanted to tell him how good he was making you feel but you weren’t even sure where to begin as the words became scrambled in your mind.

You were sure he knew when he lifted himself from your chest, resting his head against yours and giving you the softest of kisses.

Your walls were finally greedily sucking him in, clinging to him like your life depended on it. You could tell it was affecting him as much as it was affecting you, clenching his jaw after he delivered a particularly harsh thrust.

A certain look came across his face after this, one you had seen before but it was different. His eyes were darker when they looked at you, the pupils completely blown out and there was no amusement laced on his face as his hand dove between your thighs.

You mewled when you felt his forefinger against your clit, hand grasping at his arm at the suddenness of it. It was shock that took over you as you tried to push him away, eventually settling for grasping onto his arm as he quickened his pace.

It was too much, his cock bullying your cunt, making you feel fuller than you ever have before. Then his hands nestled in between you, fingers working on your bundle of nerves as if it was some sort of toy to him. You let out a noise that is unholy, feeling yourself teetering towards that edge again.

But you couldn’t help but try and wriggle free, tears soaking your cheeks at how overstimulated you were feeling.

It clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Jason and with one hand he’s bruising your hips, holding you in place so he can keep going.

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, fingers digging into your side to get your attention. “Don’t you dare fucking move. Understand?”

You nodded only to whimper pathetically seconds later as you felt your whole body tensing underneath him.

Jason knew what was happening and on queue he slid out of you, letting his hands do all the work. With each harsh rub of his fingers on your clit, you were gushing onto the couch and squirting over his stomach.

He was mesmerised by it but most of all he was mesmerised by your fucked out expression. Eyes sinking into the back of your skull, mouth strung open as you screamed his name. Only his name.

Then he was shoving himself in your walls again, not even giving you a second to recover from your high. Only groaning at the feel of your wet spongy walls enveloping his cock, dripping down onto his balls as they smacked against your skin.

His body was pressed against yours again, the weight of him holding you down so his free hand could move cup the side of your face. You could feel the wetness on his hands as his thumb flicked against your lips.

“Eyes on me,” his voice was low and sultry as it reached your ears, a deep grumble at the back of his throat threatening to spill.

You listened, gazing up at him through the thick tears that spilled from your eyes.

“Good girl,” his toothy grin poked out, rubbing his hand against your cheek in a soothing way. “You’re doing so good for me. Being such a good girl for me.”

You hummed in appreciation, looking up at him with pure desperation.

You didn’t care that your body was spent, tired from the way he was thrusting in and out of his walls. Or even the fact that he was basically using your body at this point, enjoying the way you were writhing beneath him.

You wanted anything he could give you, you wanted all of it. Even if you left you completely numb at the end of the night.

“I love you,” your voice was barely above a whisper and you were unsure if Jason even heard you.

“What did you say?” He questioned, eyes widening and eyebrows raised.

“I-Fuck,” you struggled, finger nails digging into the skin of his bicep as you tried to ground yourself. “I-I love you.”

“Say it again,” he panted, eyes softening suddenly. His pace was still harsh, hips only rutting faster at the confession.

“I love you,” you told him again. “I love you.”

It was all he needed, mind completely reeling as he came inside your walls. He was a mess, riding out his high until he was completely empty. Once he was done, he didn’t even bother to move, keeping himself buried inside your walls.

You couldn’t help but admire him as collapsed on top of you, trying to regain his composure as his head dropped to your chest. He looked beautiful, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, chest heaving up and down.

Your limbs are tangled, unable to move as you both try to regain your breath. But then he’s lifting his head up to get a better look at you.

“I don’t remember it ever being like that,” he confessed, fingers tickling your sides. “Do you?”

“We were teenagers,” you told him, fingers coming up to graze his head. “We also hadn’t been separated for five years.”

“Is it bad that I want to do it all over again?” He asked, head lifting from your chest as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

Your hands pushed against his chest, giving you space to breathe. “I think that Lazarus pit has given you more strength than I can handle.”

He’s grinning against, this one’s almost child-like, reminding you of how he used to be. “I’ll let you rest for a bit before we go again.”

“That sounds perfect, Jay.”

You kissed him again, something that was only meant to be as a peck but instantly turned into something hot and heavy as he nibbled at your bottom lip.

It was you that had to pull away, lips curving up into a knowing smile.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Jason groaned, finally lifting himself up, letting you see exactly what he was talking about.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #dc x reader #dc x you #dc smut #dc jason todd #red hood smut #red hood x reader

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coldgoldlazarus · 2 months

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I firmly believe in a Futch Samus

But I think something that might help the discussion is that her presentation, and how she is presented, are two different questions. And this is where most of her official depictions (and to an ever greater extent, the deluge of so, so much Zero Suit fanart) fall short.

Especially when she's coming out of her powersut at the end of the games, is something that bugs me. Show her hair messy and matted as fuck from that helmet. If she is in fact wearing eyeliner like that one post suggested, it should be kinda smudged and leaky by this point. Give us defined abs, not just because she should be portrayed as way more muscular in general anyway, (though that definitely does apply too) but because she's just run five consecutive marathons and fought at least one new space horror and is dehydrated as fuck. (On that note, in more casual scenes like the ZM endcards, show her with a little healthy pudge instead, let her be properly watered!) If she's fresh out of the Zero Suit, she'd probably even have some leg hair.

And just in general? Again, muscles for sure, I think this is one thing everyone is in agreement on. (Her Zero Suit model in Dread is definitely an appreciated step in the right direction.) Scars, too, especially in depictions chronologically placed after Corruption, where we know for sure that the Phazon had some severe effects. (Though other scars in addition would be interesting and evocative.) The extent of her mutations is something I do like being more up for interpretation, and there's been some fantastic different takes out there, but I do feel like at the bare minimum there should be at least something indicating her Chozo and later Metroid influences, even if it's subtle. (I like to go for a prominent beaklike nose for the former.) Age is another debatable one given the ambiguity of the timeline, but some kind of indication there might go a long way.

Samus can be feminine, Samus can be hot, but she shouldn't be Conventionally Attractive Supermodel style hot, with an hourglass waist and unblemished features. And honestly, with her usual portrayals thus far, the choice of presentation kinda fades into the background noise of Default Sexy Woman™, whereas it could be a lot more good and characterful if they paired it with a stronger character design, if she's buff and scarred and still chooses to pretty up afterward. And they could stand to even go further on that front, too, I've seen some great redesigns where she has more ornamentation and jewelry like the Chozo.

She shouldn't be supermodel hot; she should be the kind of hot that comes from and speaks to her power and experience.

#not a reblog #metroid #samus aran #watching a TBSkyen video has me thinking about character design again #surprise surprise #someday I'll shut up about Samus #today is not that day

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kimpossibly · 1 year

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THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

#daisy jones and the six #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones & the six fanfiction #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader

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cupcakeslushie · 1 year

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You seem to draw Donnie covered in Spray paint (pink and blue) a lot. Why is that? What got him hooked to it and why doesnt he have to mix the colors himself?

(BIG fan of the angsty separated au!!!!)

Draxum’s lab is pretty dull color wise, and Three wanted to differentiate his tech from Draxum’s. Huginn and Muninn are the ones who buy Three his spray paints! One of those small, nice things they try to do to make the kid a little bit happy. Purple is Three’s favorite color, but sometimes they’re limited in what they can bring him. (Also the pink and blue colors are a nod to Jinx—It’s kinda funny that her colors, pink and blue, when mixed, make purple)

It would be maximum shock if they all met right when Leo and Donnie rejoined the family, before they kinda started their healing process, cause they’re probably the most different at that point.

Rise!Donnie would be appalled at AU!Donnie, from silly things like the way he accumulates layers of grime without a care—to the rude way he treats April. AU!Leo and Rise!Leo would keep a wide birth from each other and probably stick to a buddy system with their respective brothers just in the hopes that they don’t ever get left alone with the other (their bros of course conspire to do exactly that, so they can get to know each other)

Rise!Raph would probably be really worried about AU!Raph just cause he thought his brother’s make him stressed and tired? But between dealing with Leo’s anger issues, and Donnie’s…everything, AU!Raph looks ready to drop any second. AU!Mikey would love Rise!Mikey, cause he’s adorable, but he’s a little sad when he looks at him, cause he acts just like he used to, before he was thrown into the arena, so he tries to tone down the bad and make it sound more exciting so that Rise!Mikey doesn’t know how horrible AU!Mikey had it.

The Kraang would def be the Rise Kraang version. The movie would take place a little while after the defeat the Shredder. I’m still working out the timeline cause when I was first deciding their ages, I forgot about the two years from the end of the series and the start of the movie 🙄. So I’m doing some reworking on that end. I think I’ll either change them to be a few years older at the start of the AU than I made them, OR the AU and the fight with Shredder will go for a longer stretch of time than it did in the series. That way there’s not a huge two year gap of unknown time between Shredder’s defeat to the start of the movie. EDIT Now that we know the series took place over two years and it was only a couple months between the finale and the movie. Their ages are gonna be the ones listed on their character charts!!

I’m still not even sure if I’ll manage to make it that far, but hopefully we will get there eventually! Cause I really wanna get to Casey. In fact, I’d probably make it less about Leo growing into a more serious role (cause obviously he’s already there), and more about him really accepting the love of his family. We might even see a future Leo come back with Casey?? It would be so hard not to go that route cause I love that idea so much 🤣

But I honestly don’t know yet what I’d really like to do. And I’d hate to give an answer that I’d have to redact later. I’ve got a lot of ideas, but I can’t even think about them, until I put out all the other stuff I’ve got planned. So let’s all cross our fingers and hope we get there some day lol!

2012!Leo would go MOM MODE™️ EXTREME, 2012!Raph and Don would take off like a rocket with the intention of hunting down and murdering Draxum, Shredder and Big Mama, and Mikey would probably be caught between holding back tears and doing his best to tell jokes and ease the tension, or following after his brothers in their murder spree.

Basically as much as the 2012 boys would be thrown off at first over how different the AU boys are from the other versions of themselves they’ve met, they’d go HARD as the protective older bros. But the only one who’d probably actually appreciate it would be AU!Raph cause he never gets to be the little brother lol.

@smoldevelopingcookie @c00k13san2 @luvrbug @organisedchaosstuff @uniqueness351217

Separated AU tag

#ask slushie #separated au #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt separated au #rise of the tmnt #my art #sep!au life #sep!au crossover

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julessworldd · 5 months

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Hey babes! I finally got an idea that was too good to not waste. @valeskafics gave the inspo for this amazing thing 🫶🏻 love you wifey! Also @foxyanon for the tag

Warnings: cucking, age gap (reader is 19, Robb is 16, Jaime is in his 30s) pussy eating, fingering(F), oral(m and f), squirting, hair pulling, p in v, doggy, mentions of face fucking. Spanking, dubcon at first! , dom!robb 🥵 Mentions of beheading, war/battle, cussing. Theon being early season prev Theon(you’ll see) I probably messed a couple timeline things up. I’m not totally up to speed up to westerlands’ house: I didn’t want a westerling reader so house Swyft

I don’t own characters or rights of Game of Thrones, all credits for G.R.R and HBO. Enjoy besties 🫶🏻🫶🏻

A Lannister bride was today’s Targaryen marriage. The Lannisters were powerful and wealthy people. Even better if it was Lord Tywin’s son, Jaime. Tywin’s power bent the rule of a Kingsguard not taking a wife. Owning lands, fathering children. For that Swyft lord’s daughter Y/n it was a dream come true. She remembers seeing Jaime at a tourney at the rock. He was 17 and she was merely a preteen. But she was dead set on marrying the lion.

Y/n’s wish had came true, she married Jaime Lannister, former Kingsguard, son of the mighty Tywin. She loved life at the rock, gold, nice dresses. Better yet custom dresses that the fabric came from the Narrow Sea. A handsome lord husband, who loved to make her scream until his name was the only thing she knew. Jaime had ruined her for other men, especially since he was well blessed below in the belt. And knew how to pleasure her before his own needs.

After the death of King Robert, the realm had 4 kings who thought they were the true king. One was a Stark, the late Lord Eddard Stark’s son, Robb. He was around Y/n’s age, she was merely 19 after this spring. King Joffrey declared war on all the kings, Robb was moving south. He was apparently near the trident, that was close enough for her husband to pick up and head to battle. After a king screaming match, Y/n was with her husband. She made a promise to stay out of the way and let him ride to battle. Jaime was gone as he went after the Stark army, Y/n stayed like always.

Y/n was reading a book when the tent flap moved and revealed a Stark bannermen. Y/n’s chest tightened as she locked eyes with the bannermen. She tried reaching for the blade Jaime had given her. But she was thrown over the bearded man’s shoulder. Soon enough Y/n was carried to the Stark’s camp, she seen her husband. He was dirty, dirt had hidden his golden hair. He was tied up and had a chain around his neck. Her heart broke for her husband, he was so good at battle how did he get captured? Especially by someone who is three years younger his wife.

“Your Grace, I got Ser Jaime’s wife. What should I do with her?” The bannermen asked as he held her arm

“Leave her in my tent, she’ll forget about her lion after she has me in her cunt” Theon smirked as he checked her out

“Theon, she’s a lady no matter whose house she married in. Set her up a tent near mine” Robb said “Leave her with me”

The bannermen let go of her arm, Jaime was so pissed he didn’t say anything as he was dragged away. He thinking of ways to kill the foul mouthed Greyjoy. How dare he talk to his darling like that.

“What’s a lady doing in her husband’s war camp?” Robb asked

Y/n rolled her eyes “Whats a Stark doing riding south? Don’t you remember what happened to your grandfather, uncle and recently your father. King Joffery surely knows what he’s doing to do to you”

“Mouthy little thing” Robb smirked

“Fuck you” Y/n said, she had to restrain herself from spitting on him.

***************************

It had been a few days since she had seen Jaime, she missed him. Missed his voice, his scent, how his hands felt on her waist. Everytime someone brought her food she begged to see Jaime. They ignored her. Theon asked what’s so good about the lion. She told him his cock and how he stretched her. Theon rolled his eyes and left.

A direwolf walked in her tent, she crawled to the corner of her cot. She had her knees to her chest

“Good wolf. Yeah, you. Go on I don’t have anything” she said trying not to sound scared.

“Greywind” Robb snapped his fingers and made the wolf sit the entrance.

“King in North” Y/n rolled her eyes

“Lady Lannister” Robb smirked

“I want to see my husband, please” Y/n sighed

“I’ll let you see him but on one condition, love” Robb said sitting on the cot by her feet

“What’s that? My family rides for Lannisters not Stark men” Y/n told the auburn haired king

“I want my way with you, but I want him to watch” Robb said rubbing Y/n’s foot

“Him who?” She asked

Rob was surprised she asked who instead of being offended and declaring her cunt for her Jaime only.

“Your husband, of course. I need answers and he hasn’t gave any so far. Seeing you beg for my cock will surely get to him crack” Robb said

“No! I’d rather you kill me than you fuck me” Y/n gasped

“I seen a Swyft flag this morning, a man looked like you. Is that your brother?” Robb asked

“Ryan, he’s my older brother. One of my father’s heir” Y/n said

“If you don’t let me do what I want, I’ll kill him and I’ll have you watch” Robb said

“Fine fine. Have him brought here, I don’t want the other prisoners seeing me like that or your men. Please” Y/n pleaded

“Well we think a lot a like, lady. Theon, bring the kingslayer in” Robb yelled over his shoulder

“Your Grace” Theon said before winking at Y/n before leaving

Y/n seen Jaime and got off the cot. She took in his appearance, he was practically buried in dirt. He had scruff, he looked exhausted. Old worn clothes, his hands chained behind his back. Y/n hugged him, Jaime leaned his head on her shoulder.

“My poor lion” Y/n muttered as she kissed his forehead as she stood on her tip toes

“Just let him do this twisted thing. Once I get out of here, it will be behind us, my sweet girl” Jaime whispered

Y/n looked at him but shook her yes. She led Jaime to a chair by the cot. Robb was still on her cot as he smirked. He patted his thigh, Y/n cringed as she looked over at Jaime. Jaime nodded his head signaling her to do what Robb wanted her to do.

Y/n climbed on Robb’s lap, the wolf wrapped his arms around her as he turned her to face him only. Her back towards Jaime, Robb squeezed her ass. He yanked her down by her hair and kissed her. Y/n had tears down her cheeks as she kissed him back.

Suddenly Robb had her dress off and pushed her on her back. Robb had her naked as he forced his shoulders between her thighs as he dipped his head to her cunt. Y/n whined as she felt Robb’s hot tongue tracing her hole. It had been a week since she had been touched. Jaime fucked her four times or more a week, he fucked her hard the morning he left the Lannister camp. Robb was eating her like a mad man, he rubbed her clit in tight circles with his finger.

She moaned as she grinded her pussy on his face as he licked her clit down to her asshole. Robb moaned, feeling her sweet cunt on him. Her stomach tightened as she came, her thighs wrapped around Robb’s head. Her hands clenched his auburn curls. Jaime was half hard from Y/n’s whines and seeing cum ooze out of her as Robb raised up.

Robb smirked as he turned his head towards Jaime. He gently raised Y/n up to his chest before stripping down. Y/n’s eyes flickered to Jaime, Jaime gave her a reassuring smile. Robb gently grabbed her jaw to kiss her, this time she clutched her fingers in his hair. Robb had snuck his fingers down to her hole, one finger rubbed the outside. He plunged his two fingers into her weeping cunt. Y/n moaned against his lips.

After making her cum again, Robb released his fingers. Licking them off, he flipped Y/n to her stomach. She was facing Jaime as Robb grabbed her hips. Bringing her ass up, he gave her soft cheeks a couple snacks. Y/n wanted to turn around and slap his face. That was one thing Jaime never did even do for teasing. His punishment was usually face fucking her and throat training her despite her whins. Oddly enough Y/n liked it when Robb slapped her ass, she felt herself clenched around nothing.

“I’ll show you why your father should have sent you to Winterfell instead of that ugly rock” Robb teased her clit

Y/n bit her lip to hide how she was enjoying this. Being fucked by another man while her beloved watched. Jaime however was slowly losing his cool. Y/n was his wife, her pussy was his nobody else’s, her body was something for him to cherish and push her boundaries of pleasure.

Robb finally entered Y/n and he was bigger and thicker than Jaime. Y/n moaned it had been a bit too long to not be filled. She missed cockwarming Jaime, but Robb found new areas to touch. Felt like he was going to rip her into two. Robb slammed his hips against her ass repeatedly, her moans were so sweet. Her cunt was tight, warm and kept him snug, Robb loved. He thought it was worth killing Jaime and having Tywin Lannister kill him for it. Your cunt was sweet but maybe not worth his sisters and family being killed.

Y/n moaned as Robb grabbed her by her long hair making her look back at him. Her eyes meeting his Tully blue eyes, a couple whins falling out of her plump lips. Robb stuck two of his fingers in her mouth. The same ones that fucked her cunt in front of her husband moments ago. She could faintly taste herself on his fingers. She swirled her tongue around his dights, Robb smirked.

“Guess Kingslayer did good, training you. The perfect lady wife, gorgeous body with a sweet cunt” Robb rammed into her

She wanted to knock his stupid teeth out for calling Jaime that. She was the only one who knew why Jaime did it. She agreed with him, sometimes betraying someone will help innocent people live another day. But that was soon forgotten as she came around Robb’s cock. Except he didn’t stop his thrusts until she squirted. He let go of her hair and she fell into the cot, she silently moaned as she came down from her hair.

Damn maybe her father should have sent her North cause Jaime never made her do that. Jaime! It hit her, he was there and witnessed the whole thing. She looked up as Jaime was fuming , his fits were clenched as his chest heaved. Robb chuckled as he seen the kingslayer’s reaction

“Theon! Take Ser Jaime back to his cell” Robb called his friend.

Theon walked in, Y/n saw his hard cock in his pants. Theon grabbed Jaime’s arm as he walked out of her tent.

Robb stood up getting dressed

Y/n watched as Theon was across camp

“You never asked him anything”

“I was going to but the gods blessed you with the best cunt the realm has had. Forgive me for being distracted, my lady” Robb smirked as groped her breast.

“He’s never made me do that” Y/n smirked

“That’s a shame, my lady” Robb said

Y/n crawled off the bed as she stopped in front of Robb. Running her hands down his thighs “Can I tell you thank you?”

“At once” Robb snapped his fingers like he did at Greywind

“Not a dog”

“No, but you did let the wolf have his way with you. After all you are a lions wife, maybe” Robb smirked

Y/n looked up at him and cocked her eyebrows. Robb had a point, a very valid one. How could she ever lay with Jaime without feeling guilty about this night. Of course if Robb released Jaime and her.

#robb stark x reader #jaime lannister x reader #Jaime x Robb x reader #jaime lannister fic #robb stark smut

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starberry-cupcake · 18 days

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Hello, I haven't had time to read as much as I would want but I'm here with an update regardless, because if I don't keep these constant, I'm gonna forget things and this, so far, seems like a book in which I don't wanna forget things.

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

currently, after "parodos" and ch. 1:

so I'm making up a timeline in my head with the information at hand

which is never straightforward

that'd be too easy, here in tlt we like to be kept on our toes

we like to be punched in the gut when we least expect it

so get ready for bad math

this would probably make our good friend palmolive atreides weep

I'm sorry palomilve's force ghost, I'm doing my best

the first entry was the night of the emperor being terminated

the "parodos" bit (we'll get to that) is 14 months before the emperor is snuffed out

ch. 1 is nine months before the emperor kicks the bucket

I believe act 1 is going to be happening around that time, since ch. 2 seems to be following without another indication

because of what happens in "parodos" aka flashback, aka prologue 2: elecric bogaloo, we can attempt to estimate when the events of gideon happened

harrowbean tells ortus in the flashback that he's gonna train with aiglamene for 12 weeks

let's assume that's kind of the amount of time gideon trained, plus the time it took harrow to plot how to girlsplain, gatekeep and gaslight gideon into it

the only one girlbossing here is camilla, I don't make the rules

so, if gideon and harrow were ready to leave the ninth somewhere around 2-3 months after the flashback, it'd be circa 11 months before the events in the prologue

and ch. 1 starts 9 months before the events in the prologue

so gideon might have happened somewhere around 11-10 months before the prologue

I can't tell how long they were in canaan house (it felt like 12 years and 5 minutes at the same time) but I think about a month is mostly right, given that once bodies start dropping, things are all happening together

all of this is relative, since time in space is ????

but I need to do this for my own peace of mind

if you give me time measurements I'm gonna measure, ok?

I need to organize things

I know I will end up making a graphic at some point I just know it

this is what I get for calling palmolive a turbonerd

ANYWAY, MOVING ON

or, moving back, since we're in prologue 2: electric bogaloo aka flashback time

here we have ortus (the one we knew, not the one we will get to know, according to the characters list) telling harrow he doesn't wanna go to the field trip

this is ortus

if you're wondering why I don't nickname ortus, I'll repeat myself but "orto" means "ass" where I'm from, so that's enough to remember him by

harrow is like "I know you're underqualified but we're understaffed, so it is what it is"

the important part is that harrowbean says she sees the barbie in the freezer walking about

like a ghost or whatnot

she refers to her as "the body" and I assume that's barbie in the ice cube because someone reblogged my recap where I mentioned her and tagged

ever since then I've been wondering why she was referred to as The Body and now I'm gonna assume this is it

so harrow tells ortus he needs to hide the fact that she's mentally unstable

[non funny side note: masking is unbearable and it's awful we live in a social and cultural environment where we feel pressured to do it, especially when you're an adult having to fulfill expectations of supposedly "age-specific" activities and responsibilities, it's exhausting and I cried about that in therapy a mere week ago so, hitting hard, this bit

don't let people make you feel "less than" because the way in which you navigate the world and your experiences is different from what's expected in some theoretical socially constructed category

and fuck everyone who, in order to put people down in arguments online, ever make fun of those who aren't mentally, economically or socially as independent as what the category of an adult is supposed to be to them

argue with concepts, argue with opinions and facts, don't tear people down in the name of "moral upper hand" by telling people they're losers for needing help

side note done]

so, harrow entered the whole canaan thing not only carrying the weight of her house, her family and her entire people

she also came into it believing she's not mentally sound and seeing The Body walking around unnoticed by other people

whether or not her visions are mentally unsettled or something that actually happens because she opened the tomb, just the whole situation of her birth is enough to make anyone collapse, so we got you, harrowbean

we're here for you

and all that without mentioning what it'd be like seeing your girlfriend cavalier impale herself in front of you

I'm taking liberties with the 'girlfriend' bit but idk

so, next we know, 5 months have passed from that and harrowcita is struggling in her new environment of the clown emperor's ship

she is made to carry gideon's sword and she can't

she can't seem to know what to do or to communicate with said knowledge and she's throwing up a lot

WHICH IS GREAT!!!!!

I mean, it's not great that she's suffering

but it's GREAT because if she can't communicate with gideon's slurped soul, maybe it means gideon's soul has not been slurped AT ALL

more fuel for my wishful thinking of gideon's soul returning to her and getting regenerated and saved and being alive

I also like very much this situation in which harrow sees the sword as personified and they hate each other without gideon

it's like prim's cat in the hunger games with katniss

but with an inanimate object

I'm really liking that dynamic

is like they both miss her and can't relate to each other

ALSO barbie body ice cube is still there

just chillin' and being silently supportive, I think

not sure what her deal is but what if she's not the bad one here? because this emperor kind of sucks tbh

not in a 'he's evil' way but in a 'idk if he know what he's doing' way

I don't know about this guy tbh

so we're leaving off with harrow being mentally and physically struggling, ghost barbie roamin' the rooms, voices of people organizing stock and gideon in my head like this, walking in limbo to get back to us

also, another day without camilla

I thought I wasn't gonna have much to say and this is so long, I'm so sorry...

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #tlt #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw

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gerryrigged · 10 months

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wait wdym dc didn't stick with Red Robin for Tim [and the de-aging thing?] what are they calling him if not RR?

He's been Robin again since 2019 😬 it's a bit more complicated but that's the gist of it.

Okay so Tim became Red Robin in the 2009-2011 series of the same name, back in the post-Crisis timeline. He was supposedly 17 at the time, by official records, and I believe he was still supposed to be 17 when the universe was rebooted with Flashpoint in 2011? (Although this doesn't really make any sense with respect to jamming the huge number of events that happened while he was Robin into like four years, if he was supposed to have become Robin at 13; he should probably at least be 18 if not 19-20).

The Flashpoint reboot took us into the New 52 (much beloathed), where nearly everyone was de-aged to some extent to keep Bruce Wayne and his generation from getting ~too old~, and also Tim Drake was mangled into a completely different character who had never been "Robin"; he'd been "Red Robin" right from the start of his vigilante career. He was de-aged to 16 for the New 52 Teen Titans series.

Teen Titans (2011) #0; as you can see, this version of Red Robin kept a version of the bandoliers and gave Tim a fancy new functional wing cape that he could fly around with.

Next, Rebirth in 2016 was a partial reboot that brought back some aspects of the post-Crisis timeline; tbh I'm not an expert on this period. What I do know is that Tim mainly appears in James Tynion IV's run of Detective Comics that ran from 2016 to 2018. During this period Tim was still called Red Robin, but he'd basically reverted to a Robin costume, with only the silly doubled "RR" symbol identifying him as not ~actually~ Robin winkwink nudgenudge, and as I understand it he was mostly back to functioning as Bruce's partner.

Tynion's run ends in Detective Comics #981 with Tim telling Bruce that he's going off to Ivy University. (He's totally lying, as Tim Drake does; Alfred notices that his tracker is going off in the opposite direction of the university, but Bruce is like "I trust him" and turns the tracker off. Yay, I guess?)

Anyway the important bit is this revealing that Tim is 'going-off-to-college' age. Which could still reasonably be anywhere from 17-19, and DC being DC, they ~refuse to confirm~

Tim as Red Robin on the cover of Detective Comics #934 (2016); as you can see, he's pretty much Robin again lol

Detective Comics #968 (2018); another shot of his "basically Robin" Red Robin costume

In 2019 we got the actual return of Tim as Robin (no "Red") in Brian Michael Bendis's Young Justice run, re-uniting the Core Four from YJ 1998.

Young Justice (2019) #1

As you can see, he no longer has the doubled 'RR', and he confirms that he's Robin - "Well, one of them!" I think he's supposed to be filling in as the Gotham Robin while Damian is running around the world having adventures and presumably getting into trouble, as Robins do? idk.

Tim also chases down his erased post-Crisis past at the beginning of this arc, having Zatanna magically restore (most of) his memories of the previous timeline, and, crucially, his forgotten best friend Kon, kickstarting some plot.

Tim, and all of the Young Justice crew, are notably young-looking for almost the entirety of this run. It varies based on the artist, but uh, yeah for the most part they are really damn baby-faced. This is a trend that continues with Tim and his generation of friends from this point onward, so fans have basically thrown up their hands like "is he 17 forever???? is he Edward Cullen from Twilight???? is he aging backward????"

We Just Don't Know

In any case, Bendis makes DC's next attempt to give Tim his own identity in short order, giving us the hilarious, ill-fated, and rightfully short-lived "Drake" identity.

Young Justice (2019) #10

He's back to being Robin by issue #18, hilariously switching costumes from one page to the next, although some time has apparently passed during the scene transition.

Young Justice (2019) #18; Jinny: "Is Drake back to being Robin?" Kon: "I think Batman and Spoiler made him go back to Robin. Don't bring it up. And say thank you because we didn't have to have the Drake intervention we were planning."

And as of the current date (July 13, 2023), Tim is still in the Robin identity, sharing it with Damian ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ God knows how old he's supposed to be right now. I certainly don't.

Batman (2016) #136; the most recent issue out to date, with Tim suiting up as Robin while filling Bruce in after diving into a bunch of parallel dimensions to bring Bruce home.

As you can see, it's a Mess. The Tim Drake's Vigilante Identity question is of course a hotbed of wank and infighting, as people are torn between (a) wanting him to continue as Robin and (b) wanting him to move on and "grow up" into his own identity again (and, importantly, leave Damian as the sole Robin again, lol).

It feels like most people are for option (b), but then nobody can agree on what his next identity and costume should be. Red Robin again?? Some other bird-based identity that doesn't share a name with a major restaurant chain?? Something else entirely??

God only knows what DC is going to come up with, especially after the Drake fiasco.

And there you have it, Anon! Hope that was helpful.

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aitadjcrazytimes · 8 months

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It's been a good run

But it's time to bring this to a close!

The saga is over, C, T and I are all together. T and I are in the swing of it, C approves as much as it is possible for him to approve of anything, everyone knows about the blog and is chill.

C is back at his rightful place of walking his sister down the aisle.

I'm getting everything I want, and we're all free to make each other miserable until the day we die.

I'm not going to be updating this blog anymore! Nobody else involved with the situation will be submitting any more AITA posts either, because they are either not on tumblr or agreed it would be annoying.

I will say that there is some stuff on here that I've alluded to that isn't necessarily 100% in the spirit of things, so I've included some stuff below the cut for the folks who have caught onto that. I would not suggest reading it if you like how all of this played out and want to keep it that way. I know that's incredibly vague, but I'm not sure how to phrase it without making it weird?

Thank you all for listening and talking to me over the past few days! That's where I'm leaving it!

...

...Is everyone who wants to keep believing in the disaster polycule gone? Yes? OK!

So, this was fake. I made up the whole thing. TK and C and T and everyone else are fictional characters. Did I lie? Yes. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Q: All of it? Even the og AITA post? The followup AITA post? The screenshots?

A: All of it.

Q: Wh... Why did you do this...?

A: Well, first this all started as a Red vs Blue fanfic for the ship Chexer (Church/Tex/Tucker)-

It started as a fanfic for Chexer. However, I was already working on a different fanfic for RVB that was totalling about 15k words at this point (+ at least 90k to go), and I knew I would never have the time or energy to write this one. I thought: yknow. this would be really funny as an aita post.

Q: It was a fanfic of a Halo fanfic series.

A: Yep!

So, I submitted Tucker's perspective. I did not expect for it to get more than maybe 100 notes at most. I totally thought someone would call it out right away.

The funny part is, if I'd dedicated all this energy to a fic instead of this blog, I'd probably have about 15-20 thousand words of fic already, but whatever, can't ruin my personal day!

Also, I wanted to see how many people would figure it out/how long it would take for it to become too obvious that this was a fandom thing. I was dropping names and RvB lore since the beginning. A few people did figure it out, and I DMed them in private to let them know.

Q: But why make the blog then?

A: Because I love to lie and be a nuisance to the general populace! <3

It was always my intent to wait until Carolina's perspective got posted (i am honestly still shocked i got away with "Carey/Georgia/West Virginia/Alabama/Miss Louisiana 1988"), let it simmer for about a day, then come clean. Which is what I'm doing now!

The reason I'm coming clean now instead of dragging it out is because I don't want anyone to feel stupid or like they got duped. You're not stupid! You were a part of this story! This was, as one anon said, a creative writing project. It was a collaboration! Thank you so much for helping me!

That said, I'm sorry to anyone that finds this disappointing! I had a blast doing this, but I will not be doing it again. I have gotten my fill. I have had my taste of being an influencer, and now I can go on with my life without ever feeling like I need to start a youtube channel.

Q: How did you keep up with a consistent timeline?

A: I didn't, especially at first. But in my time as a liar who lies about things, I have found that usually people are willing to believe you when you say "yeah, i lied about that".

Q: Wait, what about the thing with your kid?

A: Yeah, I fucked up on this one. In the other fic I was/am writing, Tucker was around 33. So, when I was saying what Junior's age was, I subtracted it from 33 and got 18. It wasn't until I was showing my partner the blog and they said "Wait, he had his kid at 13??????" that I realized I had fucked up. Oops!

Q: Was it really ALL fake?

A: For the most part. I will say that I did actually drop chocolate cake all over my tits that one time and had to shower by myself like a fucking loser. That one was true. I did also get my nails done for the first time ever, which did actually affect my typing. And I am in a band (but so is Tucker, canonically)! There are a few other things as well, but I don't want to list all of them.

Q: DID you ever read homestuck?

A: Nope. And I never will.

Even the title, though I will say that the title I came up with was "Leonard "Alpha Bitch" Church's Decidedly Not Lo-Fi Beats to Get Nasty and Get Clean To: The Movie"

Q: So there was never a combination sex/bathtime playlist?

A: Maybe! But perhaps more accurately: the combination sex/bathtime playlist was inside of you all along. You can make it. There are only three songs on there that are canon to the lore of this blog. Those are No Children by The Mountain Goats, Take It Out On Me by Thousand Foot Krutch, and one unknown song from the album Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV by Coheed and Cambria (Yep, the call was coming from inside the house, I gave Church my music taste). I had intended this to be Wake Up, but it's out of my hands now. The rest is yours to fill in.

Q: What's your main blog, so I can follow you?

A: Hi, this is aitadjcrazytimes. You're not getting that.

Q: Your AO3 handle?

A: Nope, not that either.

You will never find me. And that's the way I want it. You will see me in every blog. Every new follower. Every stranger you meet on the street. You will look into your discord kitten's eyes, and you will absently wonder if he was the one behind aitadjcrazytimes. And you will never know for certain.

Q: But-

A: Let me live on in your memory. The only person who knows both who I am and the fact that I did this is my partner, who is not into RvB or commonly on tumblr. I am not a RvB blog. I am not a writing blog. I am a nobody on the fringes of tumblr society who's been here long enough to know how to remain in the shadows.

And, even if you do manage to find me, against all odds:

No one will ever believe you.

I am closing my askbox. I am also closing my messages. If you have anything to say to Tucker or Me (tumblr user aitadjcrazytimes), you are welcome to do so in the replies or reblogs, but you will not be receiving an answer. I'll keep this blog up for anyone that wants to go through after the fact and do a deep dive or what have you.

Thanks to everyone who made this into the wild ride it was! Live long and get fucked or whatever! Xoxo <3

#final post #if you don't say goodbye then aitadjcrazytimes isnt really gone #they're just not here right now #<-so that was a fucking lie -tk from the future

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dancingtotuyo · 1 month

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8. a cry of my heart to see

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Tragedy strikes Jackson

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: blood, medical care (probably bad I'm not a doctor tried to keep it brief and vague), Character Death, loss, grief, funeral, smut, P I V, cream pie, Oral sex (F receiving)

Notes: Shout out to my girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for the beta read!

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3273

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THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR READERS 18 YEARS AND OLDER. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR READ.

One Year Later

He’s been out on patrol for days. They’re widening the perimeter and he’s on the initial team to do so. It’s nerve-wracking. You’re losing sleep.

Maria tries to assure you they’re fine. No news is good news, but it falls on deaf ears. Her husband isn’t out there in unexplored areas. Joel is. Tommy tries to hide his worry. Despite both their assurances, you know they’re concerned. It’s risky.

For the most part, life goes on. Ellie has been staying in your guest room since Joel left. You thought she would look forward to having the house to herself, not that Joel doesn’t already spend the majority of nights at your house. You wonder if she fears the same thing you do.

They’re supposed to be back in a week, but day 8 passes without sign of them.

On the ninth day, one of the gate watchmen barrels into the clinic, causing you to knock over an entire bin of instruments you had just boiled. His eyes are wide, skin pale causing your stomach to drop.

“What is it?”

“We just spotted them about a mile out. They’re down a rider. Another looks pretty banged up, can barely sit up in the saddle.”

"Who?” You fight the urge to vomit.

“We don’t know.”

“Go get Pooley.” The panic is setting in. You can’t do this. You can’t go into concerned girlfriend mode. Is that what you are? It doesn’t sound quite right. No, you need to be the medical professional you were taught to be. Calm, cool, collected like the professional you were on the UT Trauma team.

The man nods, rushing out of the clinic. You look around, pulling out everything you might need for easy access. You don’t know if he was mulled or shot or something else. This is hardly the first time something like this happened, but it’s the first time you haven’t been able to focus.

It’s silly in hindsight, but you never worried quite like this over Gabe. He always promised to come back. He seemed so confident that he would that you’d bought into his confidence, and he always did until he didn’t.

Once you’re convinced you’re set up enough to take care of the incoming injured, your feet carry you out toward the gate. It’s beautiful out today. The sun shines. Birds chirp and bees buzz. The kids play tag in the apple orchard, but it all feels like a bad dream like the world is moving in slow motion. There’s a ringing in your ears.

The gate is just opening as the group draws closer. A small crowd has already formed, mostly the families of those sent out. You’re too far away to see out of the gate so you have to wait for them to file in.

The first rider comes in. It’s not Joel. You can feel your grip on reality fading. You’re trying to stay. You have a job to do. Maria appears next to you as the second rider crosses in. She tugs you closer to the chaos, through the families waiting with bated breath. Two more. Not Joel. She brings you next to Dr. Pooley who waits ready to spring into action. People make room around you so you can tend to the injured as soon as they come in.

Another pair cross into safety. John Lacy holds the reins of Adam Perkin’s horse as Adam hunches over in the saddle looking closer to death than life. John has them next to you within seconds, spewing the story of his injury to you and the doctor. You can’t pay attention, going on your tiptoes to catch sight of the last rider, but the horses block your view. The gate is closing now.

“Maria?” You look at her in desperation, pulled between the need to help and get status on Joel.

She gives you a nod and dashes off to investigate further.

Adam half rolls out of the saddle, in and out of consciousness before several strong sets of arms aid him to the ground.

“Someone get the gurney!” A voice calls out as you fall to your knees beside the man. It’s your voice. Your body is taking over, but your brain is still elsewhere. The ringing in your ears grows louder. “Someone tell me what we’re looking at!” Your shaking hands rip the stained flannel and undershirt. They're already rags anyway.

“Took a knife to the gut two days ago. Closed it up but it got infected and reopened on the way back,” John reports.

“And you didn’t stop to close it back up?” You yell.

“We had to drop the med bag.”

You groan in frustration. Dr. Pooley takes vital signs. Even in the haze you notice the signs that he’s over concentrating. His lips move to count Adams BPM and then he stops and starts over.

“What do you have for me, Doc?” You’re desperate for help. Desperate for the old man to be able to do his job, but you see it in his face. He’s about to admit what you’ve assumed for months.

“I don’t know,” he looks as lost as you feel right now, drowning in the panic of his own mortality. His own brain ceasing to work. You’ve seen the signs of dementia for months, and now the moment you need his help the most, he can’t think straight. You need his brain. You need to talk through this.

“Gurney!” Someone yells, pushing toward you with the homemade gurney. It’s more of a litter you’d find in a medieval era movie, but it does the trick.

They slam it to the ground, you don’t even have to let out the instructions before someone is counting and Adam is moved onto the stretcher. “Carefully!” You keep pressure on his wound, it’s definitely bleeding again. They must’ve missed something or it’s been bleeding internally all this time. Damnit!

You’re almost to the clinic when you hear it, a life preserver in the raging ocean, Ellie’s voice. “JOEL!”

You turn to see her arms wrapped around his midsection, holding her as tight as she does to him. His eyes flicker to yours, and it’s like you snap back into your body with a thud, your mind crisp and clear. He smiles weakly your way and you can breathe again.

You’re not sure how long it takes you. You’re pretty sure you’ve technically just performed a surgery you were in the room for once as a nurse 22 years ago. You probably missed most of the steps, but you know it was Adam’s only hope. Joyce Dobbins comes in with a poultice that’s supposed to help fight infection and “doctors him right up” as she likes to say. You don’t know enough to have an opinion. She’s the herbalist.

You shower at the clinic, bones weary and eyelids drooping. Joyce knows enough to monitor him over night as does Rachel, Adam’s wife.

You stumble home, the days events replaying on repeat in your head. The multiple times you thought you were going to lose Adam yet he somehow never faded. Lindsey’s never ending sobs from the backroom as she mourned Paul, you delivered their baby three years ago. Joel standing there giving you exactly what you needed so you could save a friend.

Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore the dangers of the outside world while tucked within the walls of Jackson, your slice of normal in the world. Tonight is not one of them.

You stumble up the porch stairs, anything but graceful as you cross the threshold. The house is quiet- no, peaceful. It’s an odd feeling compared to your raging mind. The house is clean, spotless. The orange glow of your living room lamp and the kitchen light warm you. Rumours spins in the corner, halfway through Songbird. You catch Joel in the kitchen wiping down the countertops. Your tea kettle whistles softly as he turns off the gas stove.

“Joel…” your voice is hoarse. He spins around. He doesn’t smile, only walks toward you, pulling your limp frame into his as soon as he can. “I missed you,” you whisper.

“I missed you too, Sweetheart.” His face burrows into the crook of your neck.

“I thought…” you can’t finish the sentence without tears falling down your cheeks. He rocks you both softly.

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

He kisses your head softly and then your lips. As much as you want to fall into bed, he forces you to eat something, drink the tea he’s brewed for you. You can barely sit upright, but you eat and drink and finally, he guides you upstairs, tucks you into bed, and curls up behind you. You fall asleep before he starts whispering sweet reassurances in your ear.

You pull yourself out of bed earlier than you should. You have to go check in on Adam at the clinic. No news is good news. Anytime you’re not dragged out of bed after a day like yesterday, it’s a good thing.

He’s not conscious but his fever is lower than it was when you left and that eases your worries some. Rachel doesn’t leave his bedside.

Lindsey is in the backroom as they re- wrap Paul’s body. They’ll bury him today. He’s already been dead for three days. You take Lindsey’s hand without a word, standing solemn next to her.

A hot tear marks your cheek as you watch Maria and Joyce diligently work. You were never awarded this luxury, could never gaze upon Gabe’s face one last time. Didn’t get to say goodbye.

He has a tombstone in the cemetery. You don’t visit it often. He’s not there, his ashes spread to the wind now, rolling over the earth like invisible tumbleweeds. He probably likes that better anyway.

The funeral is short, but all of Jackson crowds around for the service, to bury their fallen friend. Joel holds you close, arm wrapped around your waist. You lean heavy against him, gaining all your support from his frame. Carter and Ellie sit on the ground in front of you.

When it’s time to lower Paul into the ground, Joel makes sure you’re steady on your feet before joining the rest of the patrol group. Adam is still unconscious in the clinic. They lower his body to the ground with precision that is too practiced. You wonder if he’s thinking of her, how he had to leave her body behind. He calls out her name at night sometimes. You know he’s reliving the night Sarah died.

Lindsey’s cries start to pick up again. You slide onto the bench beside her, squeezing her hand tightly. Grace sits opposite you and Elaine stands behind. You don’t know Lindsey that well, but she’s joined your ranks now. Other women who have lost spouses close in around the grieving woman, a moment of solidarity. It’s a group that’s too large for your liking, too many lives taken.

Joel holds your hand on the walk home. You keep walking, taking your path earlier than normal. You don’t speak, too many memories in your mind, too many emotions flooding your heart.

You stop in at the clinic. Adam is in and out of consciousness. Joyce is giving him something for the pain.

You cut your walk short, just one lap tonight. There’s a note on the door. Carter is at Maria and Tommy’s for a sleepover. You sigh in relief, thankful to not have to worry about another human being tonight.

Joel helps you out of your shoes. He helps you upstairs. His hands move slowly over you, half roaming, half massaging your weary muscles. He follows your collarbone and shucks the cardigan from your shoulders, frees you from your jeans leaving you in nothing but a tank top. It’s one of the few times his eyes don’t immediately land on your exposed crotch. He can’t help but chuckle at your commitment to not wearing underwear.

Fingers delve into your tight calves. You let out a soft moan as you fall back into the mattress, sheets cool against your skin.

Your eyes close, relishing in the feeling of him. This is the first real chance you’ve had to spend together since he got back. There’s nothing inherently sensual to his movements and the way he touches you, but your body heats in response, craving the connection, the assurance.

The air shifts as your breath hitches. His fingers crawl up your legs leaving tiny trails of fire as he presses a kiss to each of your calves. Desire begins to burn in your body, slow and hot. “Joel…” You moan, legs falling open.

“I know, Sweetheart,” He feels it too, voice low and thick as his eyes darken. “I know.”

Your hands tangle in his curls as he takes his time covering your thighs in kisses, swiping his tongue over your skin from time to time. “I’m here,” he says again. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

There’s no rush to the finish line, neither of you have the energy for that tonight. It’s slow, languid like a hike up a steep cliff as his mouth slowly greets your slick cunt, his tongue runs through your folds at a steady pace over and over and over and over. He’s pulling you closer to the edge, taking his time until finally, you cry out arching into his mouth, spilling more of yourself onto his tongue.

He pulls away, chin glistening in your soft bedroom light, proud smile on his lips. “That’s my girl.”

You whimper in response, hands traveling up his forearms. His calloused palms roam over your thighs and hip, fingers drawing soft patterns across your skin.

Leading with his lips, he makes his way up your sternum. Not a drop of urgency in his body, he eases up your tank top. It’s like he has all the time in the world. You wish for all the time in the world as long as you get to spend it with him.

Finally, his lips meet yours. You taste yourself on his lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands wander his shoulder and neck, your fingers glide through his hair again. Nails rake down his back. At some point he shed his shirt and pants, leaving him bare against you.

“Lay on your back,” you say.

He pulls back slowly, eyebrows raised. “What are you thinking about?”

“Having you on your back.”

He chuckles, warm arms wrapping around your middle as he rolls over. You brace yourself on your knees. His hard cock presses against your thigh. You run it through your folds. Joel lets out a soft moan as his eyes glaze with lust. “Fuck, Sweetheart. Let me in there.”

“Patience,” you chide, but have no intention of keeping him waiting for long.

You nudge his dick against your clit, sending sparks through your veins until you center your opening over him. He holds your hips as you slowly sink onto him. You stretch around him, filling you so completely. Once you’ve taken him to the hilt, you sit there, eyes focused on each other exchanging soft pants.

Your cunt clenches around him, pulling moans from both of you, but you don’t move, hands finding purchase against his soft stomach, thumb running through his dark happy trail. The two of you bask in the feeling of your skin against the other’s, desperate for the certainty that you’re alive and breathing, that the blur you’re living in is reality and you still have each other.

He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your teeth scrape against it. Then you lift up just a little bit, keeping him mostly inside you before you sink back down. You keep the slow pace as you ease up and down, increasing the distance a little more each time.

Joel’s eyes never move from you, sometimes meeting yours and other times appreciating your naked form above him. His hand trails down your torso, finding the wet heat of your core. He finds your clit with the precision only granted by his familiarity with your body. He has you memorized, every single inch of you.

You let out a sharp gasp when he touches you. He holds his thumb steady against you, letting your movements drag his thumb across your clit. You clench around him and he groans. Up and down, your hands perched on his hairy chest, nails biting into his pecs.

As you draw nearer to the peak, Joel starts to meet you, hitting a different angle inside of you. You let out a long moan, head tipping backward. Then you reach the crest, cunt milking his cock, coming undone on top of him.

Sweat beads along Joel's forehead as your dripping pussy flutters around him. He’s not far behind you, filling you with his spend. The feel of him inside you, coating you, causes another breathy moan to leave your lips.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He pants, pulling you down beside him, sweaty skin flush against his.

You smile softly at him, brushing the curl in front of his forehead back. He kisses your palm. You should feel guilty for enjoying Joel’s comforts, his warm skin against yours when Lindsey lays in an empty bed across the way, but all you feel is relief. You’re grateful to be spared heartache for once.

Eventually, Joel rolls out of bed, returning with a warm washcloth to clean up the mess he left behind. You’ve pulled on his white tshirt. You don’t say a word, just stare at him in the lamp light. He’s beautiful, a gentle giant, and he’s yours.

When he crawls back beside you, he looks at you like he reads every thought in your mind, kisses your forehead, and turns out the lamp. You turn on your side. He spoons you, arm thrown over your waist.

His soft snores start to play in your ears. The crease in his forehead is nonexistent with sleep as you look over your shoulder. Then, it hits you. You’re happy here with him despite the last 48 hours. It feels wrong, like you cheated death. You just hope it doesn’t come back to collect double, but you’re so damn happy. Joel Miller has permeated every single fiber of your being.

You’ve known this, but now, you accept it. Your muscles tense with it. It’s not enough to send you spiraling by any means, but you fought it for so long, you’re not sure how to proceed. You could tell him now, wake him up and finally let the words slip off your tongue. More tension gathers between your shoulders.

Joel mumbles, tightening his grip around you as he pulls you flush against him. He kisses your shoulder.

“Don’t start with that.” Sleep coats his voice. You wonder how he’s so in tune with you even in sleep he can feel the tension.

“Don’t think it works like that.”

He hums, squeezing you again. His lips press between your shoulder blades, beard brushing against your skin sweeping the tension away, pulling the thoughts from your head.

He chuckles as you sink into him. “You sure about that.”

You reach behind you. Your nails rake over his thigh, just above his knee until you find your target. You pluck one of his leg hairs with a practiced precision.

“Ow! Not nice!”

You laugh, burrowing into your pillow. “Go to sleep, old man.”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, holding you so close your brain can’t think of anything but his solid frame at your back.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo #tlou #pedro stories #pedrostories #woman (joel's version)#woman (joel miller)

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normspellsman · 1 year

Text

Secret

part one | part two

pairing: neteyam x fem!human!reader

genre: angst, the tiniest mention of smut, no comfort at all (sorry y’all), & forbidden love

word count: 1k+

warning(s): heartbreak & mention of character death

word bank: sa'nok — mother, yawntu — loved one; lover; beloved person, yawne — beloved, great mother/ewya — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, & syulang — flower

note: inspired by the song “secrets” by PLVTINUM. i literally thought of this when hearing this song, except it was all sad & nothing of the song is remotely mentioned in the fic lol. brief mention of norm & slightly more mention of lo’ak. neteyam is aged up for the sake of the brief mention of smut but it’s not even really detailed like at all.

You’d like to think you were a person that thought things through. Calculating every single thing that could potentially happen and what could end up as a result. Like a true scientist, Norm often would comment when he found you staring off into space as you tried to think something through, brows pulled into a scrunch in deep thought. I just like to be prepared, you’d respond, shaking your head at Norm’s previous comment. But, no matter how much you thought all of this through, you never would’ve come to the conclusion of any of this happening.

“What?,” your voice came out in a broken tone, stomach churning in anxiety. You couldn’t believe your ears. There was no way that this was happening. You should’ve known better. Done better. Put more distance between the two of you. You got so caught up in what it felt like to be with him that you forgot your reason for putting up your walls.

Neteyam didn’t want to repeat himself. He knew he probably should but he didn’t want to. Because if he did, then it’d be true. What he would be saying would be reality. A reality that he didn’t want, didn’t choose. A reality that his parents chose for him with none of his input on the matter. His Sa’nok was able to choose her own love, so why couldn’t he?

With his ears pinned back against his head, he whispers out, “I am to be…mated with another,” barely loud enough for you to hear, but you did.

The sinking feeling in your stomach goes to your heart, sucking in your heart whole. Tears sting your waterline as you hold back an inevitable sob, shaking fingers digging into the plush of your lips as you tightly close your eyes. Neteyam, your Neteyam, the one that you love, the one you bared your soul to and shared yourself with, was to be mated with another. A Na’vi. Someone who was able to give him children and a stable future. Something you couldn’t give him, no matter how much you prayed to the Great Mother.

“Yawntu,” Neteyam utters, reaching out for you only to be met with your cold stare and slap of your hand, hitting his arm away from your body. His heart began to shatter at the action, trying not to reach out towards you again for comfort. He knew he fucked up. He knew that he should’ve told you sooner instead of continuing to see you behind his parents back. He knew he should’ve fought the betrothal, should’ve fought for your love. He realizes that now as he watches his whole world crumble right in front of him.

“How long…” you ask, stabilizing yourself against your lab desk, hunched over one side of the table with your back to your lover. You didn’t want to know if he kept this a secret from you or for how long he did, but you couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth.

“A while,” he responds, guilt clawing at his throat, “about four months.”.

The confession was the final straw on the camels back.

“Four months?!” You scream, tears now steadily running down your cheeks, voice cracking at the heavy emotion. You had been seeing each other long before that. Confessing your feelings for one another nearly a year ago, but you had only gotten intimate with each other nearly five months ago. The timeline didn’t look so great in your head, your heart breaking even more.

“Did…Did you know before we-we fucked?” The harshness of your voice is what makes Neteyam flinch back as if you just slapped him across the face. The statement fucked brings a heaviness to his heart. The night you two became one, the night where you made love was one of Neteyam’s happiest memories. Often finding himself thinking about it during the late time of the night, smiling to himself that he was able to connect to you one another level and was able to please you in the way he always desired. He didn’t regret any of it.

Truth be told, he was told of the betrothal the morning of that night. He thought that if he avoided the subject at hand entirely, it would eventually go away. That if both of his parents saw his cold demeanor towards the girl he was arranged to marry, that they would call it off and allow him to choose for himself who he wanted as a mate. That if he mated with you, there would be nothing in your way of being together. He now knows that he shouldn’t have done that. That he was wrong to have done that. That he should’ve screamed and kicked and fought his parents once the news was broken to him. But he was too much of a coward to do so.

His silence is what gave you your answer. You scoffed at it. At his cowardice to answer. This was not the Neteyam you knew and grew to love.

“Was I just a distraction to you? Something you could toy with before leaving me in the dust as you continued on with your life with your new mate?” You hissed out, fists tightly closed. You so bad wanted to scream, punch, and hit anything and everything in sight, but you would have to wait until Neteyam had left to do what you desired.

Again, your words had hurt him. Had caused his heart to almost splinter in half. What have I done? He thinks.

“No! No, no,” he exclaims, crouching down into an even lower position to look at you, “You were not a distraction. You are so much more to me, yawne. You are all my stars in the sky. You are my sun to my moon. My other half. My whole heart. My ma-”. You cut him off.

“Don’t!” You firmly say, tears falling down your face at Neteyam’s confession, “Do not say it”.

He knew that you didn’t want to hear what he was going to call you. But it was true. You are his mate. The one he mated with before Eywa. The one he loves with all his heart and being. The one he would lay down his life for.

“But it is true. You are my mate,” he whispers, bringing your face into his oversized blue hands, warm against your cold and wet face.

His words and actions only make you cry harder and the heartbreak worse.

It’s quiet for a beat. And another. And another.

Neteyam’s worried that you managed to make yourself pass out from how hard you seemed to be crying, but he was proved wrong when your eyes opened and roughly pushed his hands off of your cheeks.

“Go! Go away!” You shouted, pushing at his lean chest. You wanted him gone but you also wanted him to stay. But you knew if he stayed, it would only be harder for you to let him go in the morning.

“I do not want you here! I don’t love you! Don’t see you!” You continued, sobbing.

Your weak attempts at pushing him away didn’t work, but your words did.

Neteyam fell onto his bottom in grief. Did you mean that?

“You don’t mean that, syulang,” he whispered, tears now streaming down his cheeks.

You only shake your head, “How do you know what I mean, Neteyam?!”.

The lack of your usual nickname for him stung. You always called him Teyam, Tey, or Ma’Tayem. Never his full name. He knew what you meant whenever you used his full name. And his heart continued to break at the fact.

“I am so sorry, yawne. Please, let me make it right. Let me fight for us,” he begs, shifting onto his knees as he grasps your hips and pleads for you to look at him, “I love you. I see you. Only you.”.

“You can’t make it right, Neteyam!” You spoke, “You had your chance the minute you knew of the arrangement and yet you did nothing about it. Nothing!”.

Your words were like stones in his heart, weighing him down. Neteyam didn’t think he’d ever encounter a pain quite like this. Nothing could ever compare to the pain he was feeling right now.

A tear fell from both of your eyes as a beat of silence took over the moment. Both hearts racing against the confines of their rib cages.

“Please,” he pleads one last time, voice wavering as it shook.

“Go. Please,” you beg, hands on Neteyams forearms, trying to get them off of you.

Whatever fight Neteyam had left to try to convince you that he still loved you and was going to fight off this betrothal left his body at your words. His eyes closed and his tail fell limp between his legs, heart completely splitting in two.

He only nods in acknowledgment to your request, gently kissing the crown of your head before getting up to leave.

As he leaves you there, in your lab, broken and crying, you still can’t help but still love him. Perhaps a part of you always will, even when he’s grown and has a family of his own with the woman he’s supposed to be with.

Before he completely retreats back into the forest, he gives you one last longing look before heading back to High Camp.

He promises himself that he will fight for you and the love that you share. That no matter what, he will do what is right and do everything in his power to get you back.

The following week, news quickly spread of the Sully children being held hostage by one of the returning Sky People. Forcing Jake Sully to make a decision for his family. Their departure from the clan hurt and saddened most, especially the Sully family.

You were told of their departure a day too late.

Neteyam had stopped by the day of. He stopped by to tell you that the betrothal was called off. That he still loved you. And that he was leaving to seek refuge with another clan. That he was going to keep fighting for you and that when he gets back, he’ll scream up into the sky that you are his and he is yours and that he doesn’t care that you’re human and he’s Na’vi. He left Norm a letter that contained all of this. He whispered that he loved you into your closed door before leaving, forcing himself to not look back because if he did, he knew he wouldn’t want to leave.

His death reached you four months after the family’s departure from the clan. You had forgiven him during those four months. Rereading his letter over and over again until you cried out all the tears your body allowed you to.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw Lo’ak enter the lab, looking the same as he did months before he left. But, he had a sad look on his face. Like a permanent scowl etched on to it.

When he broke the news to you, he had to cover his sensitive ears from your heartbroken scream. Lo’ak had known of yours and his brothers relationship, walking in on the two of you kissing one night.

He loved his brother and he loved his brothers love for you. Neteyam quietly begged in his arms for Lo’ak to watch over you in his absence. And so he will. He will love you because his brother loved you and he will watch and protect you because that’s what was asked of him.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully x y/n #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x y/n #avatar x reader #neteyam x human reader #atwow imagines #atwow x you #atwow x reader #angst #avatar: the way of water

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danvillecheese · 4 months

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the dwampyverse and all its timelines

welcome to the analysis i've been promising for like two years! this will be phineas and ferb centric simply due to the sheer amount of episodes compared to milo murphy's law and hamster and gretel. with the inclusion of hamster and gretel, i will admit this has gotten a little less easy to navigate, but i'm hoping with a bit of analysis and suspension of belief, it'll be okay. ready? lets go!

the best way i can describe this first part is by providing a visual of how i see it. and using a three-circle venn diagram makes perfect sense with all of the overlapping and individual parts.

so - pictured above is said venn diagram. each part is its own timeline. ones where each show is their own timeline, ones where pnf/mml overlap, mml/hng overlap, pnf/hng overlaps and the one right in the centre where they all overlap. this doesnt include timelines where "endings" are separate (read: quantum boogaloo, act your age, doof 101, owca files... any ending that isnt last day of summer. but i'll get to those ones later). make sense?

1. where only phineas and ferb exists.

this works best before 2015. this timeline is the one that has zero murphy crumbs on it. dan and swampy haven’t yet had the idea of doing a show about a kid with awful luck and time travelling shenanigans. this is the most nostalgic timeline, for phineas has reigned over the disney channel cartoons for eight years. the lumberzacks dont exist, hamster and gretel dont save danville each week. pnf is its own show. no other shows have an influence on it.

adding to this - if you ignore any of the alternate timeline episodes and stop at last day of summer, you get my personal favourite way of watching the show. this one is basically just ignoring owca files, doof 101, all of mml and most importantly - act your age. I love the idea of an open book ending for these characters, especially for ones we saw on our tvs for over eight years [when it aired]. the events that take place after last day of summer are simply giving an idea of what COULD happen to our beloved cast, and without them, they really make no impact on the original story. the events before the end of summer are in no way impacted by the other alternate ending episodes.

2. where both phineas and ferb and milo murphy’s law exists

this is the canon, everything-exists-all-at-the-same-time timeline, pre-hamster and gretel. every piece of context works together, and everything is all connected. everything is canon! everyone is friends with each other! the pnf effect works! doof moves in with the murphy's, and this timeline is basically if you watched pnf and mml chronologically, without any of the alt ending episodes (in case you forgot which ones: quantum boogaloo, act your age, doof 101 and the owca files). this is the one i think we're all familiar with - it also includes candace against the universe (mostly uh... broadly speaking, the lumberzacks are the only mml thing in there).

3. where only milo murphy’s law exists

a timeline where pnf and hng are nonexistent. this timeline would probably exclude anything past season one, really. the crossover would not work. maybe even in this timeline the pistachions take over everything and the human characters cease to exist. (eleanor shellstrop this is the bad place!.jpeg) this further pushes the point (that I haven’t made - I’ve been thinking it I just haven’t said it lmao) that you can’t have milo murphys law without phineas and ferb. the crossover plot proves it. both in the real world AND in mml.

4. where just hamster and gretel exists

this one is a little hard to explain, especially since hng has only just finished its first season. there are a few pnf references in this show but it stands on its own feet much more than mml did. i think the likelihood of hng existing in its own timeline works a lot better than mml - but the chance of there being a surprise crossover is moderately high. like i said, it's a little hard to analyse this since its that much more removed from its predecessors.

5. where milo murphy’s law and hamster and gretel exist

this is a very unlikely scenario, but there is a chance a timeline like this exists somewhere. it’s a bit difficult to analyse or even prove since there haven’t been any kind of references or even characters that pop up in hng from mml. I wouldn’t expect the opposite either, considering that mml ended in 2019 and hng didn’t exist until after that, so hng within mml is basically impossible without a third season.

these last two timelines make a lot less sense, especially since hng still has stories to tell and we havent seen mml characters there yet (well... unless you count doof. hes technically a mml character, right? as much as some of us dislike that fact? haha. ahahaha.)

6. where phineas and ferb and hamster and gretel exists

this one works. i think it’s basically how dtva thinks it works (basically completely ignoring mml’s entire existence lmao) but this is basically the canon timeline of hng currently. but we’ll wait and see if there’s a crossover.

7. where all of phineas and ferb, milo murphy’s law and hamster and gretel exist all at once

like I say, a surprise crossover could happen (but based off what happened with the pnf effect I can’t even imagine how messy this would get) so yes, they could exist all at once. and they probably do, just that hng is a lot further removed from its predecessors in terms of references and characters popping up out of nowhere (doof and his inators don’t seem to have much importance yet, but who knows how it’ll end). this timeline, basically, is for those who don’t really mind that everything’s in a collective universe, and it seems like the easiest one to comprehend if you aren’t pedantic about all of this.

but what about the episodes where timelines end?

you’re probably here thinking okay, so what? there’s different timelines. this isn’t news. what about the other individual episodes that are within the umbrella timeline? I like to think of them as individual timelines within the show, along with all the other ones mentioned above.

quantum boogaloo

timelines have been a thing pretty much since season 2 of phineas and ferb, notably in the episode quantum boogaloo where they go forward in time and see a potential future where stacy is the president of uruguay. this is an example of something ‘canonically’ happening after last day of summer, 20 years in the future. this episode has a couple of potential timelines - the one where everything is fine, and the one where doof is emperor and everyone is named joe. the first timeline has candace ending up with jeremy and having three kids, along with ferb at camp david and phineas at an awards ceremony in switzerland. however, this particular timeline doesnt match up equally with act your age, since their ages dont line up. in quantum boogaloo, pnf are aged 30 twenty years later, in aya, pnf are aged 18 ten years later. this means they could either be 8 or 10 in the original summer, depending on the timeline. the second one is pretty much null to me since they time travel back and both of the future timelines cancel out.

doof 101

so. this is an episode i havent seen for a while. however, this is one of the perfect examples since the theme for doof 101 says "and this all takes place in fall so don't let the timeline throw you" like hiiii thank you for acknowledging that this is a separate timeline! there's a short bit in the title that shows doof facing either prison time or teaching at the high school in court, and its something we don't see the events leading up to. sure, he's done crimes against humanity but there weren't ever any consequences during the show. who turned him in? why is he on trial? what happened between him being evil and becoming a high school science teacher? and why does this monobrow edward rooney ass guy have beef with him and charlene out of nowhere? timelines, dude. got me stressed out and its not even my show.

act your age

[through gritted teeth] this episode also shows another potential canonical ending for the cast. phineas ends up with isabella 10 years after last day of summer, showing that this particular timeline has the kids aged around 8 or 9 in the original summer. we all know my thoughts on this particular ending, notably posted here. this timeline is easy to ignore if you dislike it, like the majority of us.

what does line up with the original summer, however, is doof's b-plot in act your age. I'm not a huge hater of his arc in this episode, and honestly, it might be his most in-character timeline ending out of all of them. yes, you heard me, theres something i dont dislike about act your age. like i said in the post linked above, i dont find it hard to believe he would bowl with perry and carl and monogram every week. he would totally have a mid-life crisis that wasn't real, like this guy canonically can't even hate christmas. this is so in character for him! in terms of it being a different timeline though, the only proof i have is that it's one of many different timeline ending episodes.

last day of summer

this episode is kinda like a flagship for the timelines, and as mentioned above, my favourite ending. i don’t think I need to reiterate it, but it really just provides an open ending for the entire cast, and makes room for anything else to happen. I’m curious to see how it pans out in the reboot; if they keep the continuity and acknowledge that ldos happened, or if they just kinda skip over it if it’s true that the new seasons will happen in the summer after the original one. but don’t worry - if the reboot adds any kind of canon divergence (I’m literally counting on it) You Will Certainly Hear From Me About It. lol

the owca files

I'll admit i haven't watched owca files for a number of years but i still remember bits of it. its a very strange timeline to me. i understand that doof is legally an ocelot and can be an agent but it does feel like the beginning of that out-of-characterness he displays in mml. and i guess the owca files is canon there, right? the bit with monogram during the pnf effect?

this also includes the pine tree. it feels like a way of letting us know owca files is in a different timeline. the flynn-fletcher house gets blown up, they get new plates, and we have symbolism of the end of an era with a pine tree in their backyard.

milo murphy's law

this one in particular is mostly just the pnf/mml overlap but ensures that doof ends up as professor time. if you've seen mml i don't think i need to explain it - after last day of summer (and owca files if ur nasty) the events of mml occur chronologically as if its one continuous timeline.

wait! what about the other canon divergent episodes?

ones that aren’t necessarily an ending but are set smack bang in the middle of the show with no explanation? don’t worry. I got you.

phineas and ferb christmas vacation

this episode features doof being evil in the middle of winter. dan povenmire has said he relapsed, but this is a perfect example of different timelines. a lot of the “ending” episodes were written and aired well before last day of summer so the chance of them knowing how the show was going to end was likely very little, if not zero. so, let’s imagine that last day of summer doesn’t happen. none of that arc happens, it’s just doof being passively evil throughout the year and then this christmas event happens. i don’t think he ever stopped being evil in this timeline. the chance of him just getting less… violent with his schemes is probably the best way of thinking about it. hell, he got perry a present. yes, it was a vase, but would the s1 heinz have done that? probably not. he’s definitely less evil as the show progresses, and even an episode like this one that aired in season 2 shows how quickly they turned it around.

on the other hand - the boys make their santa clubhouse invention and candace stresses what to get jeremy as a gift. does she try and bust them? surprisingly, no. her main focus is jeremy, and when it all goes south she’s in on what the boys are doing when santas elves show up. she mentions “what’s different this year than last year?”, insinuating that the boys weren’t inventing anything before the summer that the show is set in, and that this episode is definitely set after that summer. the B plot is definitely more solid proof of the alternate timeline, with heinz “relapsing” although I struggle to believe that with all the canon divergency that happens within the show and in mml/hng the chances of it just being a relapse are very remote.

that’s the spirit!

this one is similar in that it diverges from our last day of summer ending. doof is still evil, and candace - wait, she doesn’t even try and bust them. she’s keen to trick or treat with the gang and then go to jeremy’s party. she doesn’t even try and bust them. (man, it’s almost like it’s another timeline or something.)

back to doof though - he might have relapsed like in the christmas vacation episode, but he’s not necessarily evil here either. sure, he declared war on grass for an unknown reason and turned himself into a were-cow, but it’s not established that he wants to take over the tri state area like usual. if anything, it’s the opposite. he runs from the masses like it’s a witch hunt.

the curse of candace

this episode is all fine until the end where candace turns to dust and phineas says "we're gonna need a dustpan and some glue." there isnt much else to say about this one, but it indicates another timeline where candace is glued back together afterwards. and she’s also a vampire.

happy new year!

this is set after the summer the show is set in, considering that jeremy and coltrane are at the party as candace and stacy's respective dates. doof is still evil as his plot is to become ruler of the tri-state area. candace makes one last attempt at busting her brothers. this is definitely another timeline, and also apparently one where gangnam style exists. pretty easy to understand - doof doesnt have his giving-up-evil arc and continues to be passively evil like always. this could also work chronologically with christmas vacation, where he tries his naughty-inator and then a week later comes up with the resolution-changer-inator. candace's arc is a little different, she could have stayed consistent and tried to bust the boys from summer onwards, only getting to new years and wanting to change her ways with a new years resolution.

for your ice only

evil doof is back again in the fourteen days of winter vacation that fall between christmas and new years'. for him, this could be an evil scheme that takes place at some point in between christmas vacation and new years, or it could be its own timeline altogether. candace also attempts to bust the boys again, as per usual.

what's interesting about this one though, is the fact they refer back to football x7 when talking about hockey z9. and you're probably thinking 'obviously? whats ur point' and yes. obviously they bring up the original episode when referencing the sport with the same name format. but this also implies its in the same timeline as the football x7 game, meaning there's at least two timelines that divert off my fair goalie - one that doesn't include hockey z9 and one that does (this episode). and this one (i'm circling back) includes evil doof. bam!

escape from phineas tower

what! this is a normal episode, right? if that was your reaction upon reading that subtitle, you'd be thinking the same as me, until you remember the ending where the tower extends its forcefield around the entire milky way galaxy. but here's where things get really interesting. what film, may i ask, has a plot where the ensemble cast has to fly to another planet to rescue two other ensemble cast members? thats right, candace against universe! this means that catu is set in a timeline that doesn't include the escape from phineas tower episode, since they're able to exit the milky way galaxy and enter the vroblok cluster. this would be impossible if it were in the same timeline as this episode, since they would have stopped at the dome and wouldn't have been able to get to feebla-oot.

she’s the mayor

honourable mention to this episode since it features time travel and timeline fuckery and I never see anybody talk about it!

"Back at the golf course, Roger is astounded at how fast the game is going as Dr. Doofenshmirtz points out that the slight chance that the Accelerate-inator could destroy the very fabric of space-time and possibly the entire universe is a small price to pay to get done with the game. Perry then breaks the Accelerate-inator using a golf club, causing time to flow backwards at the exact moment when Linda and Candace are about to bust Phineas and Ferb, also undoing all of the day's events back to the announcement in City Hall and causing an alien from another universe to appear.

At City Hall, Mayor Doofenshmirtz prepares to announce the winner of the Mayor-For-A-Day Essay Contest. The alien destroys the Accelerate-inator, causing the time-line to be altered once again as the new honorary mayor is announced: the old coot and telling everyone that any gold that they find is now his, causing Candace to lament, "I was robbed."" (from the pnf wiki)

what would’ve happened if doof's machine wasn’t destroyed and set the timeline back into place? the fabric of time and space would have been destroyed, and there is a very high chance there would have been a last-day-of-summer-esque situation where everything within the void would cease to exist. right from the start of the episode, it begins with a clock chiming, so from the beginning we are made aware that time will somehow have significance, which it does. after the timeline resets, we hear the clock chime again, which lets the viewer know we're now in a different timeline. there don't seem to be any repercussions of this timeline fuckery later in the show since it doesn't get mentioned again.

night of the living pharmacists

second honourable mention goes to this ending that @momphineasandferbmadeablog reminded me of (tysm bestie) where it "ends" with stacy turning off her tv as if the entire episode was a horror film the whole time. however, even before verifying, i had a feeling it was debunked and its just the ending of the grievance film. and i was right.

"Dan Povenmire made it clear that the entire episode was canon instead of a film Stacy was watching, and that the "The End" card on Stacy's TV was merely the "The End" title card of the Grievance movie she was watching." (from the pnf wiki)

there isnt a citation for it and none of his tweets showed up while i was looking for actual proof but i definitely remember him saying it somewhere, but please, absolutely feel free to think of it as a separate timeline! without dan saying it's a canon episode, there isn't actually any proof within the episode that it isn't its own timeline.

across the second dimension/tales from the resistance: back to the second dimension

and for our third and final honourable mention, this one is basically the existence of the second dimension. I haven't added it as its own since the concept is pretty obvious - its another dimension where a different timeline occurs. i mean, idk if i need to fully explain it, if youve seen the film and the s4 episode you know what happens. it's explicitly stated to be another dimension, however the specific mention of timelines is nonexistent. semantics, yes, but i do really feel like atsd is separate from all of it.

it's certainly a timeline that could happen - doof could lose his choo-choo and eventually take over the tri-state area and the events of the film would occur, but the fact that the main characters cross over and meet each other puts it into a different category for me. but by all means, feel free to think of it as yet another timeline!

I want to specifically mention: this list of episodes is not at all an exhaustive number of timelines. the way I see it, this is just the ones that are “labelled” (for lack of a better word) as their own timelines. there can be as many or as few timelines within the dwampyverse as you like. this analysis is not a rulebook, but rather answering the conundrum with one solution out of an infinite number of possibilities.

the dwampyverse and its "current year syndrome"

i think we can all agree that phineas and ferb is a relatively timeless show, in that you could watch it at any point in the past fifteen years and it wouldn't feel particularly out of place. that being said, the technology used in the show makes it feel aged or weirdly out of time. most notably, the switch between candace having a flip phone in the first three seasons and a touch-screen phone in everything post-season four. this is clearly influenced by the smartphone boom that occurred in the 2010s when iphones became mainstream, and thus impacted everyday life, including in tv and film.

so, when the animators jumped on this trend, phineas and ferb became a lot less timeless. candace owning something like a flip phone, something that didn't even exist for a long period of time in real life, felt less like something that was trying to keep up with the times than when she suddenly appeared on screen with a smartphone. not to mention the alexa joke in candace against the universe. now that was a jumpscare.

if you did want to carbon date the summer that the show is set in, like this post did for example, and if you're like me, you might headcanon phineas and ferb's summer taking place somewhere between 2009 and 2012. the other times where they've crossed over is set whenever it makes sense. the pnf effect? i think its pretty much canon that it takes place in 2017, what with all the pop culture references like pokemon go, dabbing, and uptown funk. definitely things you can date back to that mid 2010s era.

milo murphy's law also makes sure it stays current too, like specifically mentioning the year 2016 when the lumberzacks formed, milo's bag of toothbrushes labeled 2012-2014, and king pistachion doing a selfie with everyone which is like the most 2016 thing ever. (you guys remember the oscars selfie?) there's certainly some purpose behind dating some of the events within the show, since its entire B-plot is about time travel, but it doesn't feel like its really trying to be a current show. at least, not until they have references and allusions to pop culture things like ducky mo-go.

hamster and gretel has what is unfortunately the worst display of the three - there's a lot of social media references in the show. not necessarily memes, but just a lot of display of the characters using social media. the first one that comes to mind is the destructress, where her typical Thing is her doing a livestream or some kind of story update announcement with her phone, clearly showing that this is a 2020s cartoon, and it feels the need to be very current. hell, eight year old gretel has an iphone in this show, but i won't go down the track of why that fact alone is so weird to me since it'll derail this entire analysis.

granted there are a LOT of inconsistencies throughout these three shows but the current year syndrome, although sometimes unavoidable, proves the fact there are multiple timelines - and they can be traced back to candace's flip phone.

so, what do we do with this?

I personally love cherry-picking the parts of canon that exist, purely from a selfish point of view but also because this universe allows for it. there are a lot of different endings or alternate paths these characters can go down, and as exemplified by act your age, we can either ignore them or embrace them. sure, it’s unlikely but there are some people who like the aya ending and say it’s their own canon, and others who like the ending where doof becomes professor time. or there's others, like me, who absolutely adore last day of summer as their timeline end. the openness of it in such a positive light makes it feel like it’s not even the ending for these characters.

it also begs the question - does everything go back to the status quo at the end of every phineas and ferb episode? well... it can't, really. most character arcs within the show are tied to events that happen, like monty and vanessa getting together, or buford joining the backyard gang, or even doof's slow arc to being a good, if not morally grey character.

no, it’s not a big deal that there’s a lot of different timelines in the sense you have to constantly think about it as you watch it. but it does present us with the classic conundrum: which one is actually canon? and to this, i say, pick your own ending. if you like cherry picking as much as I do, indulge yourself. skip episodes you don't like. ignore parts of canon that don't actually have that much impact on the timeline. hey, its not like the show doesn't allow for it!

#phineas and ferb #milo murphy's law #hamster and gretel #dwampyverse analysis #you thought i was in my insane era before? think again

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