#hard compared to the rest of the game i guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

areislol · 6 months

Text

“You really took care of us huh?”

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing that i know of?

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. OMG IM SO SORRY FOR PUTTING THIS OUT LATER THAN EXPECTED 😭 instead of writing i was playing a game so that’s on me, i was also unbelievably tired this week, my fault! but it’s out now 🫶🏻

►— wordcount. 4.1k

recommended to listen to: wave to earth - seasons or only - leehi

You never expected, not even in a million years or like.. in a lifetime for the video game characters coming alive and appearing in your room.

And they were handsome too, like, drop-dead gorgeous and the fact that they all respect and love you… You were surely the luckiest person alive right now.

These men also made your bank account cry, the amount of money you had spent on them—pulling for them (and losing many 50/50’s) and their weapon, grinding for hours trying to get their materials to ascend them and for their weapons, artifacts (you’d rather not talk about it) skills and EVERYTHING.

You put more work into making sure they’re all fully taken care of and put to the best of their ability than compared to your work. It was a bit concerning yes but, this game—the characters, we’re so comforting to you than anything else. So of course you poured your whole soul into the game and their characters.

(Also the fact that you also read fanfics about them and now they’re suddenly in your room does not help with your infatuation with them)

And so this brings you to where you were now, showing off their showcase at 10 in the morning.

“Oh wow Y/n! You worked really hard to make us strong.. no wonder why I felt so strong all of the sudden in one day..”

Aether watched in awe and amazement as you showed him his artifacts and his weapons with Venti, Pierro, Diluc, Kaeya, Tighnari and a few others hovering and peeking out from behind your chair, watching as you showed Aether’s build to everybody.

The rest were in your living room, eating breakfast. You had decided to eat breakfast after showing the people who wanted to know their builds.

For some reason their characters were still in the game despite really being in your world. You would have to ask Albedo about this later.

“What about me?” Diluc grumbled, trying his best to ignore the states he got. “What? I can’t ask Y/n something so simple?” Everybody shook their heads “no”.

Smiling, you replied. “Of course! I remember when your skin first came out I was all over it, I made sure to buy it to, did you like it? I think it looked beautiful on you.”

Diluc blushed at your words and nodded his head. “Mhm. I loved it, Y/n, thank you.” He stated, smiling warmly down at you.

You began to stroll through your characters until you found Diluc. “There you are—look at you! So handsome..” you sighed dreamily before snapping out of your trance and cleared your throat and began to go through his build.

Once you had finished showing Diluc and everybody his showcase, more people wanted to know about theirs and obviously you couldn’t say no so that’s how you ended up showing nearly everybody’s build and showcasing their skills and whatnot.

“And yeah! I did spend a lot of money but it was.. I guess worth it? I mean I’m glad you guys felt strong and all!”

Tighnari sighed and rested his hand on your desk. “We are all thankful, but seriously you didn’t have to spend all of the days you worked so hard for..” he explained, Diluc agreed with him.

The rest, too, didn’t want you to waste your hard work but then again for you to work so hard on and take care of them ignited something inside of them, so they couldn’t complain.

Before you could respond, a knock was heard. “Come in!” You shouted, turning around in your chair to see who it was.

Lyney entered the room and smiled at you (ignoring the others) “are you done? Your breakfast may get cold you know..” his gaze wanders off to the guys beside you. “Oh, and yours too.”

You could hear the scoffs coming from Diluc and Pierro. “Yeah I’m pretty hungry right now, and was it (Vietnamese) broken rice I smelt?” You asked, getting up from your seat and walking towards Lyney. He nods his head.

“Yeah, Aether found the recipe in a book and found the ingredients for it, lucky huh?”

As you smiled at him and began to walk out of your room followed by the others as Lyney cocks his head to the side—ordering them to get a move on and out of your room. “Come on, I bet you all are starving right now!”

Making your way to living room, you found everybody already done with their breakfast, with only a few plates placed on the coffee table for you and the others.

“Ouuuuh it looks absolutely delicious? Who cooked it?” You asked, sitting down on a pillow beside Xiao and Wriothesley.

“Thoma did with the help of Neuvillette and Childe, surprisingly.” Cyno responded, eyeing Childe from the corner of his eyes.

“Hey… what’s that supposed to mean?!” Childe yelled, pouting at Cyno before looking at you, betrayed and defeated.

You shrug your shoulders and began to dig in your food with Diluc, Venti, Pierro and Tighnari mirroring your actions, sitting down and eating their breakfast.

Childe began to make his way towards you and pushed the other men away that were behind you, this obviously annoyed them but before they could yell at him (start world war 3*) he had wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck.

“You don’t think I poisoned your food, do you?” He mumbled, even though you couldn’t see his face you knew he was pouting.

You shake your head no, not even reacting to his affection—you were somewhat used to it. “‘Course not, I don’t think you could ever actually.”

Childe smiled on your skin and tightened his grip on you. “Mhm. Thanks snookums.”

Everybody cringed (some nearly gagged) at the corny pet name. “Snookums, really? Out of all the petnames.. and it’s not the first time he called them that.” Kaveh whispered to Al-haitham who was obviously disgusted by the pet name.

“Mhm, it truly is disgusting..” Al-haitham whispered back, looking away from the ginger.

Childe rolled his eyes at their reactions and continued to hold you in his arms, Xiao holding back his urge to tackle him right there and then but you were in his arms so he couldn’t, because if he did you would get harmed and he would rather die than hurt you.

While you were eating your breakfast, you grabbed the remote and began to go through the channels—animal documentary, no.. news, yes. Setting down the remote on the table you listened closely to the news.

You weren’t the type to listen to the news but today was an exception, because you just felt like it. “What’s that?” Ayato asked, eyes ogling at the news reporter in the middle addressing the weather.

“Oh-“ “how does she know the weather so precisely?”

“Because, she is a news reporter, she reports on the weather and gives us all of the latest news about whatever.”

The sounds of them “oooh”ing and “aah”ing could be heard from all around you. With Al-haitham and Dainsleif just giving a small “mhm.”

You spend the next few minutes just eating breakfast and watching them all eye the TV and listen closely to the woman. This was.. interesting to them, they had never experienced this before.

Finally you were done eating breakfast, you were the last one to finish so as you began to wash your dish, you looked back and found Neuvillette behind you.

“Oh- god!” Your body jolted as your heart rate spiked up. “You scared me!” You said, sort of breathless.

Neuvillette sends you an apologetic look and apologies. “I’m so sorry for scaring you like that.. I apologize. I should’ve told you beforehand..” his brows furrowed, he looked extremely guilty it was eating your heart away. You couldn’t just not forgive him!

“It’s really okay Neuvillette! I just got a little scare was all..” you laughed at his scared face and turned back around to wash your dish. “What did you want?”

There was silence at first, Neuvillette didn’t respond, there seemed to be a nervous and awkward tension between you two.

“Neuvillette..? Did you want something?” You repeated, placing your dish in the dish rack before washing the other utensils, still awaiting his response.

“I-..” Neuvillette pauses, cheeks slightly tinted with red. “I uhm. I wanted to..” all of the sudden Neuvillette suddenly pulls you in a hug from behind, his arms awkwardly wrapped around your waist.

You were caught off guard by his action but you already knew all of them were touch-deprived and or just wanted to be next to you all the time.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, letting him embrace you in his warm arms from behind. “When I saw Childe hugging you I just.. felt something weird. I wanted to, lord forbid, push him and take his place.”

His words caught you off guard causing you to laugh abruptly and drop the utensils in the sink, a loud "CLUNK!" could be heard. "Oh whoops.. any who uh- Neuvillette are you.." you turn around and raise your brow, smirking up at him.

"Am I what?"

"Are you jealous~" your teasing voice made his heart skip a beat, his eyes focused on you, brows furrowing. "Me? Jealous? I don't know what you mean." Neuvillette sighed, his grip on your waist tightened.

You eyed him and slowly nodded your head. "Mhm.. sure.." Neuvillette peeks his head to the side and spots the utensils still unwashed. "Would you like me to clean the rest? You could go rest and bond with the rest."

Turning your head back around to look at the utensils that laid in the sink. You hummed for a few seconds before responding—"why don't we both clean them? You wanted to be with me right?"

Neuvillette nods his head, offering you a smile. You two began to wash the dishes together with Neuvillette standing beside you, after a few minutes all the dishes were on the dish rack, water dripping off down into the sink.

"All done! Now let's go join the others" you excitedly hummed, grabbing a hold of Neuvillette's arm and walking over to where the rest were.

Kazuha smiled and waved his hand at the both of you, once spotting you with Neuvillette. "You're back! What do you want to do now?"

You sit down on the end of the couch and sighed. "I'm not sure.. I do need to clean my house though, its been a while since I last cleaned it." ever since the men appeared in your room your house has.. sort of been trashed.

Not entirely trashed (Thoma, Kazuha, Diluc, Tighnari and Al-haitham kept the house clean) but still, you really needed to do a deep clean—ever since you've bought a house it really has been a hassle to keep everything in place as you were still in college and had to multi-task.

The mention of cleaning your house definenetly perked some heads up. "Cleaning? I can help!" Thoma offers, eyes shining with excitement (yes he loves cleaning and cooking and everything domestic, he IS the male wife).

"Me too!" "me three, I can help as well!" others chimed in as well, Childe stood up and raised his hand. "I will be the biggest help, don't worry Y/n! What's the biggest job I can do?"

Everybody groaned at the ginger's words and shook their heads in disappointment. Giving his words a thought, you hummed and put on your thinking face.

"Hm.. well I would say cleaning every single crevice you know.. the nook and crannies." you replied, smiling at Childe. He immediately grabbed a duster and set off to clean single crevice.

"I'll wipe the surfaces and all." Al-haitham states, getting up and grabbing some wipes before doing his thing.

"I'll organize your clothes Y/n! Oh and ours too"

"I'll go mop the floors."

Soon, you pretty much gave everybody a role to do (or they just gave themselves the role) and they all set off to do their jobs. Honestly, this had to be one of the best days ever—your house was going to be squeaky clean and plus you get to see them doing domestic chores.

"If you guys need any help just ask me okay?" you mentioned, dusting the books on a shelf. A collective "yes ma'am!" could be heard. They were so respectful it made you fold.

After what felt like hours of cleaning (it was, approximately 4 hours of cleaning) you flopped down on the couch along with a few others and heaved a great sight.

"Good job everybody!! the house looks so much cleaner now..." you sighed, chest heaving up and down. You were all tired, apart from Thoma, Tighnari, Al-haitham and Albedo, they still had energy left.

As you got up from the couch to fetch a glass of cold water, you got a fright from seeing Gorou sitting at your feet, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"Gorou? What's wrong?" you asked, your heart melting at the sight of his ears pressing flat against his head. Gorou stared up at you—his eyes glistening.

He inches closer to you, his arms wrapping around your legs. "What. Is. He. Doing." Childe whispered to Pantalone, eyeing Gorou with... some disgust. Pantalone shrugs. "Lord knows what."

"Uhm, If I may ask Y/n.. Do you think I did a good job today? For uh.. cleaning the house."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as he asked the question. What does that even have to do with anything.. "Yes, you have, why?" you questioned, watching Gorou lower his gaze to the floor.

Everybody watches as the scene unfolds, they were confused, scared, worried, but more so confused.

"Could I get a head-pat?" Gorou asked quietly, his eyes still focused on the floor, his head lowered as if to invite you to pat your head. Was he asking for a head-pat (some kind of reward) for his hard work?

Nodding your head, you began to pat his head softly, enjoying how soft his hair was, your hands would occasionally caress his ears and my god were they super soft!! Heat rushed to Gorou's cheeks as he realized you had no intention of stopping. Not that he was complaining.

"Gorou.. did you know your hair is very soft? Like, unbelievably soft! I could touch it all day if I could.." you exclaimed, if Gorou allowed you, you would definenetly be running your fingers through his hair furiously because it was just way too soft.

You wondered if the other's hair were soft too, I mean, all of theirs's looks soft, Neuvillette and Ayato's looked soft and silky. You should go look for an excuse to touch their hair soon..

As everybody watched Gorou enjoy his head-pats, they all eyed him with jealousy (if you look closely you can clearly see fume coming out of their ears right now), wishing that they were in his position—receiving head-pats from you, what a dream. And they were sure to make it come true.

"Ahem, dearest Y/n, don't you think that I too, did a fantastic job in scrubbing the shower too?" Kaeya sighs dramatically, sliding down and sitting next to you, batting his pretty eyelashes at you.

You turned to face him, pursuing your lips. "Well.. I mean.. yeeeessss..?"

It was a bit confusing after that, Kaeya asked for you to pat his head as well, saying that he "deserved it" (which he did) but then after that the others started to ask for some head-pats too. So in the end you had to give everybody a head-pat, it was very time consuming.

Soon, it was 1 pm—it was time for lunch. Time has gone by so fast with them, you (unfortunately) stop petting Al-haitham's hair and stand up from the couch.

"I'll go make some lunch now okay? Something simple like maybe a sandwich or something, is anyone hungry?"

While a few replied with "I'm hungry" some replied saying that they weren't hungry and would eat a snack of some sort. You began to grab out the ingredients to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich.

You made sure that the men weren't allergic to anything beforehand, you would definenetly not be having beans around Itto at all, while you were busy making everybody sandwiches, Zhongli sat on the chair behind the kitchen counter, watching your every move.

It was sort of uncomfortable, yes, but you didn't really mind at all. You were used to their curious stares after all.

"Zhongli, would you like to be the first one to try it out? I want to see if I need to add anything or fix anything up."

This wasn't your first time making sandwiches but still, you were positive they weren't used to your (earth) sandwiches so why not make Zhongli your taste-tester?

Zhongli nods his head, giving you a warm smile in the process and god was he so handsome. "Of course, It would be an honor to be the first to taste your sandwich." and with that you placed the plate – with the grilled cheese sandwich on it – on the counter, waiting for Zhongli to take his first bite and his opinions on it.

As Zhongli grabs the sandwich and takes the first bite, munching on it. You weren't nervous at all, watching him eat your sandwich. Okay that was a lie you were totally nervous. I mean making a grilled cheese sandwich? Nothing big! But the fact that Zhongli, a handsome, fine, fancy man is sitting right across from you and eating your sandwich is!!!

Studying his face got you nowhere. His face was as always, nonchalant and somewhat still, after swallowing, he looked up and set his gaze on your face.

"It's... amazing! I've never had anything like this before, a simple grilled cheese sandwich I've had but to have it made from you and in your household, in your world, makes it all the better. The taste is also immaculate, truly other worldly. Quite literally."

You crack a smile at his joke at the end and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god.. so it's okay, thanks Zhongli!" you thanked him before going back to making some more before finally setting them all down on the kitchen table, counter, and coffee tables (and some other places as well since those all of them can't fit in three spots).

Tighnari had noticed that you had a couple of plants in your home, they were.. not in the best condition, he had to say. But that was no problem! He could help you raise and take care of them.

"Say, Y/n. Please do not take any offense to this whatsoever but do you take care of your plants?"

The question was out of the blue, yes, and it did catch you off-guard for sure. "Oh- uh, my plants? Well the truth is I haven't really been taking care of them.. I mean I would love to but I'm very forgetful." You explained while smiling sheepishly, it was embarrassing after all.

Tighnari nods at your response and offers you help to which you obviously agree to! I mean who wouldn't? He would take care and nurture your dying plants? Deal!

Everybody began to eat lunch as for the ones who weren't hungry just lounged in your room, Al-haitham read a historical book that you haven't even finished reading (you only bought it because of you thought the cover was really vintage), Pierro stood in front of your window, staring out to the view of the skyscrapers and buildings. Albedo and Cyno were sitting on your bed in silence, waiting for you to finish eating and come back.

"What a total weirdo.." Cyno whispers to Albedo, eyeing the tall, old (and stinky, that's what they call him) fatui. Albedo simply glances at Pierro and looks back at Cyno, confused. "How so? I think it's totally normal to gaze out of the window, don't you think? I mean, the view is absolutely fantastic out there.. so many things we've never seen and don't you agree that the flowers that bloom down near the window looks absolutely-"

Cyno groaned as Albedo ranted on and on, what Albedo was trying to say was basically, staring out the window was "normal". But of course, he couldn't be rude about it so he had to painfully listen to Albedo spitting out nonsense.

Finally, you (along with others) finished your food and washed your dish before walking into your room, leaving everybody else who was still not done (Heizou, Kaveh and surprisingly, Tighnari, are slow eaters).

"You're done eating? What do you want to do now?" Pierro asked, his voice rumbling deeply that it gave Cyno a spook, it gave him the hibbie jibbies. Humming, you thought about your answer but concluded that you wanted to do nothing but sleep.

"Eh, not really. I do want to get a nap in though, I'm sort of tired." You yawned, flopping down onto your bed between Cyno and Albedo. "Would you want us to leave and let you sleep in peace or..?" Pierro asked once again, his face scanning yours.

You shake your head, covering your body in your sheets and curling into a ball. "I'm okay with you guys here don't worry. Pierro could you close the blinds please?"

Pierro nods and closes the blinds at your command, the room now dimly lit. Soon your heavy eyelids take over, but not before the sound of the door clicking open and then followed by Childe complaining about you leaving him.

The obvious sounds of groaning and complaints about Childe could be heard too (Itto was complaining REALLY loudly.), Cyno shushes everybody entering your room, pointing at your trying-to-fall-asleep figure.

"Ooooh, whoops! Sorry Y/n!" Childe apologizes, cringing at the thought of his loud voice waking you up. You could barely hear him though, drowsiness taking over your body and thoughts, nothing was left in your brain except for one thing—sleep.

Kaeya rolls his eyes at Childe before slowing and carefully closing the door shut. "It's only 2:30 pm, isn't sleeping in the afternoon bad or something?" Gorou asked, peeking his head from behind Itto to look at you.

Albedo hums. "Well, yes, but considering that they have been tiring themselves out since we've arrived, I think they deserve this well-deserved rest. Don't you agree?"

The surrounding men agreed, nodding their heads. "I agree, we should let Y/n sleep, I think I should too, without Y/n I'll be bored..." Kazuha yawns, already getting ready to take an afternoon nap with you.

After Kazuha laid down on the mattress, a few others started to mirror his actions. Itto, Ayato, Capitano, Thoma and Kaveh began to settle down on the mattresses while the others went to the other room to take a nap as well (some didn't want to so they stayed out of the rooms and watched the TV or played board games).

Normally when you sleep during the afternoon, you would wake up in the middle of the night, and oftentimes you fail to fall back asleep. And that is exactly what happened to you.

In the dimly lit room, darkness envelops every corner. The only source of light is the faint glow seeping through the curtains, painting the room in a hazy ambiance. You lie on your bed peacefully, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with each gentle breath you take in your sleep, the softness of the pillows cradling your head.

The darkness of the room seems to cocoon you and everybody, it is as if the night itself has woven a protective blanket around you all, the silence is broken only by the distant hum of the city, a lullaby that lulls you deeper into your peaceful slumber.

But soon, your eyelids flutter gently, and in the dark room, you can hazily make out the scene before you. Outside, the moon casted its soft glow through the window, casting delicate patterns on the bodies of the men and on the wall. It illuminates your face.

It was so comforting to you, the soft glow of the moonlight completing everything.

As you take in your surroundings you begin to understand that you were cuddling Kazuha while Ayato had his arms wrapped around you. Smiling softly, you snuggled in closer to Kazuha's chest—pressing your cheek against his warm and slowly rising chest.

And in this dimly lit room, you slumber on, oblivious to the world outside. The darkness embraced you like a mother's embrace, offering comfort, it is a place where dreams are born and nurtured, where the imagination takes flight and as the night deepens and silence engulfs the room, you continued to sleep peacefully, unaware of the outside world.

But then before you could fall asleep your eyes shot open, I have to work tomorrow. Groaning, you nuzzled your face more into Kazuha's chest, knowing the next day would be tiring.

note: IM SO SORRY FOR PROCRASTINATINGGGG i just got home a couple days ago and my jet lag is pretty bad and i have to work and all of that jazz!! thankfully i got myself together and finished it :)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @hex-vx @saltylovetale @backintomykpopphaseagain @toramune @oreo-ren @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @amaizverydum @lovelive-animequeen1029 @roseapov @yuraasia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealamp @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanisty @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-sh @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcroww @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter!)

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

1K notes · View notes

thehusbandoden · 9 months

Text

You Flinch During an Argument -Bakugo Katsuki

I finished this yesterday but forced myself to wait to post it due to my one part a day pattern I've had going on.

Anyways~ as I said in Shoto's part, I did make this one a bit angstier, but I hope I didn't stray too far away from the original prompt :'). It's kinda bittersweet lol but I kinda like it.

Angst to fluff/Comfort | Kinda bittersweet~ | 993 words | female reader

Warnings!: arguing, yelling, being scared of your partner, parents arguing (the kids were not present), kids being left at school (not for very long), caps, excuses, self hatred, and insulting themselves (Bakugo). Please let me know if I miss any <33

You both had been fighting for at least half an hour, screaming at one another for this and that. It started with Bakugo 'forgetting' to pick up your sons from school, and has now escalated into you screaming at him for not 'caring about this family' and his yelling about how hard he works for your family.

No one was totally to blame, both parties had some points that were right, and some that were wrong. But it should have never reached that point.

~~~

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU BEGGED FOR KIDS THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP OUT MUCH! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME!"

"I UNDERSTAND THAT- BUT YOU'VE HAD THREE DAYS OFF! YOU'RE FULLY RESTED- AND SHOULD'VE PICKED UP THE KIDS NO PROBLEM WHILE I WAS HELPING OUT YOUR MOM!"

"WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO! I FORGOT ABOUT IT, OKAY! AND YOU DIDN'T CALL TO REMIND ME EITHER!"

"I EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH BRAINS TO REMEMBER, BUT I GUESS THAT WAS IDIOTIC OF ME!"

"I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH BESIDES THIS BULL CRAP THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! I WORK, YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS!"

"KATSUKI I CANNOT WATCH THE KIDS 24-7 WITHOUT YOUR HELP! I NEED BREAKS TOO! YOU HAVE TWO DAYS OFF A WEEK TO RELAX, AND CATCH UP ON SLEEP! WHILE I HAVE NIGHT TIME, BATHROOM BREAKS, RUNNING ERANDS, AND NAP TIMES TO CATCH A BREAK! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY HUSBAND TO HELP OUT WHEN HE HAS TIME OFF!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED THE KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE- WHY ARE YOU WHINING TO ME ABOUT HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF 'EM!"

"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THEY AREN'T YOURS!? WE BOTH AGREED ON DOING THE BEST WE COULD FOR OUR KIDS, AND YOU SAID THAT YOU'D HELP OUT WHENEVER YOU COULD!"

"Y/N IT WAS THIS ONE TIME- I WAS BUSY, I FORGOT!"

"YOU WERE PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS! THAT IS NOT BUSY!"

Blazing anger filled Bakugo as he stepped towards you, planning on simply getting closer to you to somehow try and make you see his side of things. He didn't mean to forget about picking up his kids, he loves his kids, he was simply engrossed in talking about them to his friends as he gamed, totally forgetting about the time and the fact that they were at school, waiting for someone to pick them up.

In truth, Bakugo felt bad. Really bad. But you wouldn't stop, so he continued, his unwavering pride making it near impossible to simply apologize and leave the argument behind.

Storming towards you, Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks as you flinched from him, eyes holding a certain terror. Wait- did you- did you think he was going to hurt you?!

Apologies and 'are you okay's were caught in Bakugo's throat as he opened his mouth, too terrified to speak.

Y/n.. his y/n was scared..of him. HIs y/n- the person that tore him out of his 'I don't care about anything or anyone' stage. She brought him out of his dark pit of self loathing, hating himself for how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything compared to that idiot Deku. She brought light into his world, she is his light. His first and last love, his wife, his center, his other half, his partner, his reason for life, the mother of his children, his one and only lover, his queen, his everything.

And he scared her.

Screamed at her for something that was his fault.

Treated her so badly that she flinched away from him- terror filling her eyes.

Her gorgeous e/c eyes. The same eyes that his sons had inherited. Now he's brought tears to three sets of those goregous eyes. What a scum bag.

Pain seared through Bakguo as he embraced his y/n, knowing if he left now she would entirely break, thinking that he was giving up on her. On their love. When in reality, he would't be. He would never dream of leaving her, or their beautiful children.

Because no matter how much of an a-hole Bakugo may be, he would never stoop that low. Never. And so he held her, and continued to hold her as she tearfully cussed him out, telling him how much she loved him and how much of an a-hole he was for treating her like that, their kids like that.

He just held her, telling her that he was sorry, that he knew, that he would make it up to her -and their seven year old twins- somehow.

And for now, that was enough. His love, and comfort was enough as you clung to him, insulting him while telling him that you loved his idiotic self in the same sentence, telling him that you loved him too much to not be able to forgive him.

And that if he was serious about making things right, that you would help him.

Because you were Bakugo y/n*. You chose to take his name and become his wife. Bakugo has helped you through so many up and downs, so you would do the same for him. Because he truly loved you, and you truly loved him.

*Japanese last names go in front of the first name to pay respect to the family name, and that's why Kirishima and Bakugo's other classmates call him Bakugo instead of Katsuki -to pay respect to his family name-. So you would be (in Japan anyway) Bakugo y/n (if you choose to take his last name) and strangers/aquaintnesses/not so close friends and co-workers would call you Bakugo instead of y/n. Annd due to me not liking Bakugo a whole lot I call him Bakugo or Baka/Bakuhoe instead of Katuski and call Todoroki and Midoriya, Shoto and Izuku- do you get what I'm saying?? I hope you do <33

Series' masterlist | Bakahoe's Bakugou's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

2K notes · View notes

crisscross-sonicsauce · 3 months

Text

Differences between the models from Sonic 2 and the Knuckles Show Masterpost!

I'm sure there are more but these are just what I've noticed so far...

(Also, this is kind of hard for Sonic and Tails because we don't see them much, but I'll do my best)

::Knuckles Show on top Sonic 2 on bottom

Okay, first...

Textures

For the most part, they're less furry.

Comparing these you can see that the fur around his muzzle is shorter or at least not as well defined. This is true for the rest of them as well. Everyone looks "smoothed out," especially around the face.

Another example...

You can see the fur around his ears is actually less fuzzy, and the triangle shape of the inside of his ears is more obvious. (Almost like he got a trim or something haha.) This is true for Sonic as well, especially the ear definition bit. Tails' cheek fluff is also more shapely and long, evoking his game design more. His forehead tufts now face slightly different directions instead of all pointing right.

This goes for Knuckles' chest pattern too...

The shape is SO much fuzzier in the movie.

His body fur is also less voluminous in the show (likely the cause of the aforementioned definition.) I think this goes for everyone else too (Except for Tails maybe, I can't really tell since we can't see his body that well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.)

Another one...

They got rid of his nosebridge pattern. The delineation between his muzzle and head color is much clearer. (You can also see the muzzle fur and ear change here.) I'm actually kinda sad about this one :( It was one of my favorite parts of his design. It could be due to the fur shortening and just for the show, but I'm not sure... :/

Exceptions

Tails' tails actually appear to be MORE fluffy.

and Sonic's chest fur is WAY fluffier

If I had to guess, I'd say most of these changes were made to cut down on rendering time. Switching out the movie's "denser" textures for these "lighter" ones cuts down on the budget without sacrificing the looks. Very smart, very smart. (Obviously, I don't know for sure that they did this, I'm just guessing based off of the differences.)

Structure Changes

Here are some things I noticed about how the bones of the models have changed (meaning not due to textures) (It's mostly Sonic lol.)

From the images above you can see that Sonic's shoulders are broader and his arms are thicker. His upper chest area is now more prominent, giving him a body shape closer to a "V" than the rounder "0" Sonic from Movie 2. It's really obvious in the second picture.

His quills also don't start on his upper forehead anymore, now beginning further back. His quills also appear to be thinner. They blend in with his fur more than before. (See below.)

He also emotes differently. His face rig must have changed with his model, because when he furrows his brow the way pictured above his face wrinkles like 3x more than before, haha (I hope that doesn't stick around, it's kind of weird to look at lol.) Actually, now that I think about it, it might just look that way because the show's less voluminous fur is not hiding it as much.

Yeah, that's definitely why haha. You can actually see the indents of the same crease placements in the movie model.

Also, is Tails taller?!?!? He sure looks taller here! But it could be a case of forced perspective since we can't see their whole bodies.

Knuckles' eyes are very different. I don't think the other's eyes are different, but we see them for like two seconds from afar so...¯\_(._.)_/¯

Also, I might just be imagining this, but it looks like everyone has more "neck" than before. Weird sentence, I know. You can kinda see what I mean here...If this is the case, it was likely done so posing is easier for the animators.

And generally, everyone is at least twice as vibrant, especially Sonic! Just look at the comparisons. My boys are G.L.O.W.I.N.G! Beautiful!

I think that's all I've got. If I can think of any more I'll make a part 2. If you noticed something that I didn't, leave a comment and I'll add it. Or add a reblog of your own if you want^^

(This took way too long (¬_¬"") )

#knuckles series #scu #Movie!knuckles #Movie!sonic #Movie!tails #tails wachowski #sonic wachowski #knuckles wachowski #sonic movie #sth

220 notes · View notes

riality-check · 1 year

Note

steddie prompt! steve struggling with his dyslexia and feeling like he isnt smart enough compared to eddie and the kids?

In an effort to, in his words, "convert him to the light side," Dustin had given Steve an armful of what he deemed "essential reading" and sent him away to "learn the ways of the Force."

If Steve didn't like Star Wars so much, he would've made fun of that little nerd.

But, honestly, he's a little grateful. With no more monsters to slay and it being way too cold to venture outside of his house to go swim or play basketball, the books fill up a good chunk of time.

Too good a chunk.

It's taking him way too long to get through them.

He didn't try The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings because those looked way too intimidating. Dune's first twenty pages were boring as shit, and Ender's Game was a lot, to say the least.

So, he's been making his way through A Wrinkle in Time.

Slowly making his way through it. Too slowly.

Steve has been quickly reminded about why he hasn't voluntarily read a book since elementary school, and why he stopped reading the required books in high school.

It's hard. Reading sucks.

He doesn't know how other people get through it when the letters don't make sense and seem to switch, like how "b" and "d" or "f" and "t" look way too similar.

"Whatcha readin'?"

Steve looks up from the book - god, it's probably taken him at least an hour to get through chapter one, hasn't it - to find Eddie in the doorway of the living room.

Guess he's taking advantage of the spare key, Steve thinks to himself, but he's not mad about it, not even a little.

"A Wrinkle in Time," he says, holding up the book so Eddie can see the cover.

Eddie lights up. "Oh, I love that book! I think the last time I read it, I was in, shit, maybe fourth grade?"

Steve knows he didn't mean it, but damn. That hurt a little bit.

He can't even get through a book Eddie read when he was in elementary school?

"What part are you at?"

Steve tucks the book against his chest so Eddie doesn't see how the bookmark isn't very far in. "Not very. Just met Mrs. Which. It's kind of hard to get through-"

"Oh, yeah," Eddie nods. "It took me, like, three days."

"- because the letters keep switching."

Eddie frowns. "What?"

"The letters," Steve says. "Like, they're moving a lot for this book. I don't know why."

Eddie looks at him blankly.

Oh.

"Does that... not happen for you?"

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve huffs out a laugh because of course this would be a uniquely him problem. Of course people like Dustin and Eddie and the rest of the party would like reading, because of course they would be able to do it right.

"I guess I really am stupid."

"It took me three tries to get through my senior year," Eddie says seriously, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Does that make me stupid?"

"No," Steve says instantly. It doesn't. Just because Eddie wasn't good at school doesn't mean he isn't smart. He's a brilliant storyteller and musician, and both of those take brains.

Steve doesn't have a hobby that takes brains because he just... doesn't have enough. Plain and simple. That's how it's always been.

"Ok, then you're not stupid for having trouble reading," Eddie says like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"But-"

"But what? We're all gonna struggle with something. For me, it was school. For you, it's reading. It's why we've got other people to fill in the gaps."

Other people don't fill in the gaps. Steve does. Steve stretches himself thin, makes sure he's everywhere at once to make sure the kids and Robin and Eddie are okay.

No one else can do that because. Well.

Steve has to be irreplaceable somehow. He's gotta be necessary somehow.

This is the only way they need him.

"Get out of your head, martyr," Eddie says, reading his mind. He's not as good at that as Robin is - Steve doesn't think anyone will ever be able to read him like Robin can - but he can still do it.

It's weird, just like Eddie is. Steve's learned to love weird over the past few years.

"Do you want me to stick around?" Eddie asks.

"You can stay, if you want," Steve says.

"I always want to stay with you," Eddie says, and damn if that sentence doesn't take Steve's breath away. "But I figured I'd ask."

So, Eddie lays his head in Steve's lap as Steve dives back into a world of tesseracts and space and time, and when Steve tilts the book down and points to a word that just isn't making sense, Eddie reads it for him.

He doesn't comment on how often he hears the pages flip.

#sorry this sat in my inbox for SO LONG #but i hope you like it anon!!#this was really fun!!#anon #asked and answered #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things ficlet #stranger things #tw internalized ableism #ria writes #dyslexic steve harrington

1K notes · View notes

hotnbloodied · 4 months

Note

I know you will probably ignore this but can you try doing Yan farmer x hero reader? (I guess an iskei trip or whatever idk I just wanna know if you could try and build with this idea)

I would never ignore a request, if I couldn't do it I'd let you know! But thank you so much for your request it was very fun to do! I hope that you enjoy~ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Farmer X Isekai'd Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: implied non-con, obsessive personality, controlling behavior, toxic relationships.

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

It’s been a month since you found yourself in a world very much like the mmorpg game you used to play back when you were on earth. The first week was extremely rough, in the first three days you were in a frenzy trying to get your wearabouts about you. A couple of knights found you and were actually pretty helpful in guiding you to the church where the nuns made sure you were fed and taken care of. On your calmer day you decided you wanted to try something and called out the menu aloud. You almost jumped when the all too familiar screen popped up in front of you, the only thing missing was the option to ‘quit game’. The next chance that you got you asked one of the nuns how you could go about being an adventurer.

Here you were getting the hang of your class, who knew that combat in real life would be harder than it would be in a game. Monsters were actually terrifying and being in the wild sucked but at least you weren’t relying on other people to get by now.

You might have been getting too comfortable though because while taking on a quest to get rid of some monsters terrorizing some local fields you all but reached your limit, you were tired and wounded but the request was done and you just needed to report back to the guild now but you passed out.

You woke with a jolt. You thought the knights found you and took you to the church again but after looking at your surroundings that didn’t seem to be the case since it looked like a quaint cabin. You also noticed you were bandaged up really well. The door creaked open and in came a person you never saw before. “Oh you’re awake! That’s good.” “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude,” you told them. He shook his head, “It’s the least I can do after you helped clear our fields of monsters.” “Ah, I need to report back to the adventurer’s guild.” “You’re not in any condition to move! You need rest.” “I’m okay, I need to collect my money after all.” “Then, let me come with you.” Seeing no harm in that you allowed him to come with you. “I’m Mikha by the way!” The two of you exchange greetings and names. “Wow so you’ve only been an adventurer for a month? What made you want to be one?” “Change of pace I guess.”

After finishing the business at the adventurer's guild you were about to say your goodbyes with Mikha but he invited you to dinner and you couldn’t pass up free food. Back at his home you helped however you could in the kitchen but since everything was so primitive compared to your original world you were slow in learning. Over dinner you two talked about life, his parents died when he was young and he had to learn to take care of the farm from a young age in order to survive. He talked about how nice it was to have dinner with someone after being alone for so long. “Have you never thought about finding a spouse?” You asked. “I have, it’s just so hard when you have to tend the farm all the time.” The night ended with Mikha insisting that you spend the night there, which you agreed to since it’s better than camping out or spending money at an inn again.

A couple more months went by and you basically made yourself at home with Mikha. Even though he insisted that you paid with your company you still gave him money for his hospitality. All seemed to be going well until you informed Mikha that you were leaving this part of the continent to broaden your horizons of the world. “Mikha, are you okay? You dropped your food.” “I- I’m fine, when are you leaving?” “It’s going to take me a month to prepare so I’m not going any time soon.” “I’m going to miss you…” “I’ll miss you too! I’ll definitely try to write to you when I can.” Mikha lost his appetite, he thought everything was going good between the two of you, he thought he could convince you to stop adventuring someday and the two of you would settle down and start a family together. Was this really how it was going to end? No, he won’t allow it.

Your preparations were coming along and you were getting more and more excited about your journey. You couldn’t help but notice that Mikha seemed to have gotten quieter and just overall seemed to be more on edge. When you asked him what was wrong he’d vehemently tell you nothing was wrong.

Finally, the night before your journey arrived and Mihka had prepared more food than usual as a celebratory feast. You two ate and drank to your heart's content and Mihka even seemed like he was back to his cheerful self. After cleaning up, you went to go get a good night's rest but in the middle of the night you felt something burning in your core. You were extremely turned on and it was to a point where it was near uncomfortable. You squeezed your legs together, you tried to breathe it out and you even tried to relieve yourself but nothing was working. You didn’t even notice the knocking on your door until Mikha walked in to ask what was wrong. “Stay away from me!” You warned him, “I’m not in my right mind!” Mikha didn’t listen and because of that you jumped him and used him to your heart's content.

The next morning you were ashamed of yourself, you saw the marks and bruises you gave him from the night before. You were on your knees, crying and sobbing for forgiveness. He seemed like an angel when he pulled you in for a hug and told you everything is going to be okay but you’d need to take responsibility. You kissed your future dreams goodbye and eventually the two of you married and took care of the farm together. Mikha was just glad that you agreed to take responsibility so easily, but in case you ever tried to leave him, he would tell you about the succubus mark that was implanted on the two of you that night meant that no matter who else you decided to be with your lust wouldn’t have been satisfied by anyone except him.

282 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 3 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 5: I've Never Been a Bad Influence a Day in My Life

You and Joel get closer as you put together your lists. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 4, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Masturbation, fantasy about P in V sex. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

October, 2022

“Why can’t I add to your list?” You pouted a little, can of hard seltzer in your hand as your float drifted to the middle of Joel’s pool.

“Because you’re gonna just use that power for evil, not good,” Joel replied.

“Would not!” You shoved off the side of the pool with your foot, floating back toward the middle of the water.

“Am I allowed to put shit on your list?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet in the water and a beer in his hand.

You scoffed.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, there you go,” he shrugged. “Goes both ways.”

“You’d be a dick about it!” You kicked the water in his direction but the spray of it fell short and you watched him try to not laugh. “You’d put things on there like ‘buy Joel beer for the rest of his life’ or ‘speak in a bad British accent for a week…’”

“Can you do a good British accent?” He asked, brows raised.

“That is beside the point.”

“What are you gonna add to my list, hm?” There was a teasing edge in his voice as he took a sip of beer. “Get a new wardrobe? Get Sarah a dog?”

“OK, both of those are good additions,” you said, defensive. “But no, not what I was thinking.”

“Then what, Goldie?”

“Put in a hot tub,” you said, chin raised.

He barked a laugh.

“A hot tub?”

“A hot tub,” you nodded. “How can I come over to your house and float in the water if it’s too cold to go in the pool? Which it will be in like… a few weeks. You need a hot tub.”

“It’s already too cold,” he said. “That water’s below 70 degrees, couldn’t pay me to get in there now. Lucky I’m in this far as it is.”

“See?” You said. “Hot tub.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he shook his head.

“If your list is shitty can I add to it?”

“If you actually think my list is shitty we can discuss it,” he said. Your float drifted close to him and you were afraid, for a moment, that he was going to splash you. Instead, he just pushed the edge of it with his foot, sending you drifting back toward the middle of the water. “Still down to compare tomorrow night?”

“Think so,” you said, taking a sip of your seltzer. “As long as you don’t mock me relentlessly for it.”

“When do I not mock you relentlessly?”

“Excellent point,” you said. “I should get better friends.”

“Probably so.”

“At least now you come with Sarah,” you sighed dramatically. “So I guess I’ll keep bugging you…”

“God, you two are gonna kill me,” he said, trying to look serious but a hint of a smile on his lips. “Worst idea I ever had, lettin’ you two get to know each other…”

You giggled a little at that. You and Sarah had become thick as thieves since you and Joel had reconnected now two weeks ago.

It was hard to believe that he’d only been back in your life less than a month. But then, it was hard to believe he’d ever been out of your life at all. You’d only gone a few days without seeing him since that night at the bar and, on those days, the two of you were almost constantly texting. It was the most natural thing in the world, having your life fall into step alongside Joel’s. It reminded you so much of high school even though you were in your 30s now, your lives moving in parallel until they collided at the end of the day and you came over for dinner or went and cheered on Sarah at her soccer game or Joel showed up at your door with beer. Even after all this time, he just knew you and you just knew him. You could read his posture as easily as a book, instantly knowing the kind of day he had by the way he opened the door or flopped on your couch. He seemed to be able to peer inside your mind on command, just a raised eyebrow or a sigh telling him everything he needed to know about how you were feeling and how to make it better.

There was one day where you hadn’t intended to see him at all but it’d turned shitty and he just somehow picked up on it from the tone of your texts. New paperwork had come over from Gale’s attorney and you resigned yourself to spending the evening picking over the bones of your marriage with a bottle of wine and a wilted salad - because you definitely didn’t have the emotional energy to go by the grocery store - when Joel texted. It was a meme that you responded to with just an lol before going back to the paperwork. He FaceTimed just 30 seconds later and you frowned, answering it.

“Hi?” You said brows raised.

He nodded sagely.

“What I thought,” he said. “You look like shit.”

“Gee thanks.”

He rolled his eyes.

“For you you look like shit. What’s wrong.”

You narrowed your eyes and he laughed.

“What?” He asked

“How can you just tell?” You replied. “It’s weird.”

“Come over,” he said instead of answering. He flipped his camera around and Sarah made a face, sticking her tongue out, her hair in two springy buns on the top of her head.

You frowned.

“Where are you?”

He turned the camera back around.

“Picking up pizza,” he said. “I’ll grab an extra cheese bread, come over.”

“I’ve been drinking…”

“We’ll pick you up,” he said. “Come over.”

“Please?” Sarah jumped to try to get in the frame and Joel laughed, tilting the camera so she was visible. “It’ll be fun! OH! Spend the night! Come sleep over again, please?”

Joel tilted the camera so he was back in the frame.

“You really wanna disappoint my kid?” He asked. “C’mon.”

“Yeah!” Sarah said, bouncing just out of frame again, just a bit of her bun appearing in the bottom corner as she jumped. “Don’t let down the kid, that’s just shitty.”

“Hey,” Joel said but you could tell he was trying not to smile. She stopped bouncing. “Language.”

“Sorry.”

He turned his attention back to you.

“Be there in 10,” he said. “Can’t let you just sit and wallow. Need pizza for that.”

He and Sarah picked you up and Sarah insisted on cranking Taylor Swift in the car, signing Look What You Made Me Do into her water bottle in the back seat while you balanced warm pizza boxes on your lap, trying not to laugh when you and Joel exchanged glances at red lights.

At dinner, you pulled a pepperoni off your slice of pizza and stuck it on the end of your nose and held very serious eye contact with Joel and Sarah as they spoke, nodding along carefully so as to not disturb the topping dangling from your face. Sarah tried very hard not to laugh and did a pretty good job of it until you made a face at her from across the table when Joel’s back was turned and she cackled, laughing so hard she almost knocked over her soda can.

“You bein’ a bad influence on my kid?” He asked when he handed you the paper towel you’d requested.

“Joel,” you said, deathly serious, pepperoni slice still on the tip of your nose. “I’ve never been a bad influence a day in my life.”

After dinner, as Joel did the dishes, you sat on the couch with Sarah and listened as she told you about one of her friends at school who hadn’t been as kind lately. You nodded along until Sarah seemed to run out of steam, slumping down against the cushion with a slightly tired look on her face.

“Well,” you said. “Have you told her that you’ve been feeling hurt by how she’s been treating you lately?”

She scrunched her face a little.

“No,” she said. “But I thought that’d be pretty obvious…”

You shrugged.

“Sometimes it’s not. She may not even know she’s doing it. If I were you, I’d tell her that you’ve been feeling hurt and ask if she’s doing OK because it sounds like this is a change for her. If she’s hurting you that might be because her feelings are getting hurt somewhere else.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she nodded a little. “That’s a good idea.”

“I do have those occasionally,” you said and she smiled a little at you.

The three of you watched part of a movie before Sarah went to get ready for bed and you eavesdropped from the living room as Joel read to her in her room, the door opened just enough to hear when his voice changed with the characters.

“Peeta sighs,” Joel said like Joel before his voice shifted to something that sounded more boyish but still strong and deep, almost what you remembered from when you first met him. You smiled. “'Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping…’”

Joel flopped next to you on the couch when he was done and you held out your glass of wine. He took it, taking a big sip before handing it back.

“You look tired,” you said, holding the glass.

He shrugged.

“No days off from this whole dad thing. Don’t really want a day off but still… get tired after a bit.” He looked over at you and smiled a little. “Thanks for talking with her. Think she needs someone like you around.”

“Oh, someone who managed to tank her relationship and got stuck starting over in her 30s?” You asked. “That kind of someone?”

He rolled his eyes.

“A woman…”

“Oh, is that all?”

He glared at you.

“A woman,” he said again. “But one who’s lived some life, knows how to navigate the hard shit. One who’s willing to listen to her problems. She’s got me and Tommy for that but can’t help but feel like I’ve let her down by not giving her some kind of… I don’t fuckin’ know, feminine influence.”

“Ahh yes, the mysterious feminine,” you nodded sagely. Joel picked up a pillow and smacked you in the stomach with it, making you laugh as you caught it and held it to yourself. “Joel, you’re doing great with her.”

“Yeah?” He asked, serious now.

“Yeah,” you said, serious, too. “You really are. She’s so lucky to have you, Joel. You have no idea.”

“I’m lucky to have her,” he said, looking toward Sarah’s room for a moment before turning back to you. “So, you have the kind of bad day that you want to talk about it or the kind of bad day that you want to get fucked up about it?”

“The latter.”

“Then chug that wine,” he said, shoving himself off the couch. “And maybe change into your pajamas, I’m getting the tequila.”

You swapped numbers with Sarah at breakfast the next day. You and Joel were both hung over and trying to pretend like you hadn’t been up until 2:30 on a work night getting hammered until you passed out in a heap on his couch only to be roused by a groggy Sarah at 7 in the morning.

She’d taken to texting you then, sometimes just silly selfies, sometimes memes you didn’t really get, sometimes with questions about friends at school. You were pretty sure your heart melted the first time she called you Aunt Goldie, a sense of belonging wrapping around you that you’d never really known before.

“We still on for tomorrow?” Joel asked, eyes following the slow, lazy path your float was making across his pool. “Make a night out of this whole project, kick things off right.”

“Hell yeah,” you said, drifting back to Joel. He didn’t shove you back out to the water this time. “Did I tell you I’m seeing Anna for lunch? I cannot just go into that blind, I’ll need an out…”

“She’s doin’ that well, huh?” Joel asked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “She’s supposedly sticking with her program but… I feel like I should be a better sister and try to check in more but then it just feels like babysitting and that doesn’t seem right, either.”

“At a certain point, she’s gotta do it on her own,” Joel said. “You’re her sister, not her mom.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But I feel like I should have checked in on her more after our mom died. She was a teenager and I just left her alone…”

“You were 20 years old,” Joel said gently. “Not like you were equipped for that shit.”

You shrugged and took another drink.

“Hey,” he said, nudging your float gently, just enough to make you look up at him. “Don’t be hard on yourself for that. You were handed a shit situation and you did what you could with it. Trust me, I know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Ended up in a similar boat with Tommy. Spent years - literal years - bailing his ass out of jail and begging him to get his shit together. Eventually he did a stint in the army and got it figured out. At least a bit. She’ll get there. But it’s not your job to get her there.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“Who, me?” He asked, mocking. “Right? Never thought I’d see the day…”

“Shove it,” you splashed at him, the water dripping down his face and soaking his t-shirt. You snorted as you watched him fight the urge to laugh.

“Gonna pay for that,” he said, setting his beer down on the side of the pool and grabbing your float as you tried to paddle away.

“No!” You shrieked and laughed, shoving your seltzer into the cupholder as more of you ended up in the cold pool water than you really wanted in your rush to escape.

“You started it!” Joel was leaning precariously over the water now, trying to splash you again while keeping you from retreating. “Shoulda just kept those little hands to yourself…”

“They’re not little!”

He yanked your float back toward the side of the pool and nodded down at one of your hands.

“Freakishly small…”

“Yours are just freakishly big you mutant!” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and watched as he realized a second too late what was about to happen.

“Oh shit,” his eyes went wide and you laughed in victory before you pulled him all the way into the pool, jeans and all. He brought you down as he went, the float capsizing and sending you and your mostly empty drink can into the cold water with a sharp yelp.

You went under, the chlorine stinging your eyes as you twisted and tried to right yourself below the water. You and Joel surfaced at the same time, not even a foot apart and gasping for breath, laughing as you tried to brush your soaked hair back from your face.

“It’s so cold!” You shivered and splashed at him before crossing your arms tightly over yourself.

“Why are you complainin’ to me?” He shivered back. “You’re the one who wanted to be in the damn pool…”

“In the floatie!” You said. “I was mostly dry until you got involved!”

“Got justice you mean,” he said, reaching for your can and pulling it out of the water, dumping it out before setting it on the side of the pool. “You’re the one who put us in here…”

“You’re the one who was being mean,” you said, reaching out for him and pressing your cold fingers to his chest, the heat of him still apparent even in the water. You sighed contentedly. “That’s better…”

“Jesus, what are you, ice?” He griped, tugging you against him with a little yelp. “Gonna fuckin’ freeze to death if you’re not careful… ridiculous…”

You giggled once but pressed yourself closer to him, soaking up his heat and pressing your cold fingers to his exposed skin.

“OK, you could be less mean about it,” he said, pulling back from you just enough to scowl down at you. “Frozen fuckin’ hands…”

You laughed and realized, very suddenly, how close you were to him. You weren’t sure the last time you’d been quite this close to him, the last time you could feel every line of him through his clothes, the last time his mouth had been that close to your own. Your heart sped up. His eyes searched yours and you could feel his breath on your skin and suddenly, you weren’t close enough to him. Not close enough at all.

“Dad?” Sarah’s groggy voice called from the sliding glass door, making you jump, both of your heads turning toward her. Her face was scrunched and a curl had broken free of its braid, sticking straight out from the side of her head. “Is everything OK?”

“Course it is, baby girl,” Joel frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be? What are you doin’ out of bed?”

“You’re being loud,” she groaned. “You’re never loud.”

“M’sorry kiddo,” Joel said, separating from you and working his way to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out of the water and dripping on the stone edge. “Gimme just a second to get Goldie out of the water before she freezes to death and dry her off, I’ll come tuck you in again in just a minute…”

“Can I get another chapter?” She said it fast, the words all strung together, her eyes big. “Please? They just got into the arena and…”

“We’ll see,” he said. “But only because it’s Friday and you’re sleeping over at Emma’s tomorrow so you won’t get one then. Inside, go on.”

He watched her go and then went to the lounge chair at the side of the pool, getting the only towel he’d brought outside and holding it away from his body, spread open wide.

“Hurry up, before I change my mind,” he said.

“Such a gentleman,” you said, trying not to let your teeth chatter and trying to shove the ache that was still growing all hollow and wanting inside you down deep. You got out of the water and he wrapped you tightly in the towel, his arms going tightly around you.

“Not really,” he said, pulling you back against his broad chest and squeezing you so the water from him soaked into the towel before he shook his shaggy curls over you so drops of water got all over your face as you laughed. “There, cured you of THAT notion…”

“Thanks so much,” you said wryly as he released you. You turned to face him as he ran his fingers through his soaked hair and his shirt pulled up just enough that you caught a glimpse of the smooth flesh around his hips and you found yourself drifting closer to him again before you stopped yourself. Joel put his arms down and seemed to notice exactly where you were, just looking at you for a moment before he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I should go tuck Sarah back in,” he said. “Get into something dry so I don’t get her all soaked…”

“Right,” you said, stepping back from him. “Sorry we woke your kid up because you just couldn’t leave well enough alone…”

“I will throw your ass back in that pool,” he said, going to open the door for you. “Don’t try me.”

“Oh don’t worry Miller,” you teased. “I know just what you’re capable of.”

He started toward the stairs, a little trail of water in his wake as he went, and you watched the pull of the wet fabric of his shirt over his shoulders. You swallowed, hard.

“I’m just going to head out,” you said and he stopped, turning to frown at you.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Really should go wash this chlorine out of my hair. But see you tomorrow?”

“With the list?” Joel asked.

“With the list,” you answered.

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he said, turning to go up the stairs again before looking back over his shoulder. “Drive safe, Goldie.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just heading for his room.

Your heart was still racing.

You left the towel draped over the banister and just pulled on the oversized t-shirt you’d put in your bag before going to your car.

You tried not to think about Joel as you drove home.

It didn’t do you any good to think about him that way. It was Joel. He didn’t see you that way, drifting in that direction was what had ruined things so many years before. You’d just gotten him back, things were so good again, you felt like you belonged again, you couldn’t fuck that up, not because you’d never been able to move past a school girl crush.

But you wanted to kiss him. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him.

You tried not to think about kissing him. You tried not to think about what happened after the last time you’d kissed him. How quickly everything had dissolved, how you’d gone from picturing a future with Joel - a different one than you’d held in your mind outside of fantasy before - to running as far and as fast as you could in a matter of hours.

It’s Goldie, he’d said then. It’s the worst thing that could happen, I wish it was anybody else…

You flinched at the memory, shoving it away. No, you didn’t think about that, not when you could help it. Just like you didn’t think about the way Joel’s lips felt against your skin, how his fingers - warm and think - had traced over you, how he made you feel so clearly seen and adored in a way that no one else had before, in a way your husband had never really seemed to. How he still made you feel that way.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself as you parked, dropping your head to your steering wheel with a groan before you went in your house, closing your car door with a little too much force.

You showered and forced yourself to keep your hands away from your aching slit. You were not going to fuck yourself in your bathroom to the idea of sleeping with your best friend. You weren’t. You weren’t a teenager anymore and you weren’t going to act like one. You were better than this.

Your hair was still damp when you gave up on getting any writing or grading done and went to bed, an almost frustrating, throbbing ache between your thighs. You stared at the ceiling in the dark for a while before you all but threw the covers off and rifled through your nightstand for the discreet little pink vibrator you’d bought years ago when you’d first figured out that, while your husband had many talents, making you come wasn’t one of them.

You went to your usual fallback for porn but didn’t find anything that was really working for you, the ache of longing just getting worse as you gently toyed with your clit under the covers in the dark. Your cunt was slick, your wetness seeping down to your nightie and coating your fingers. It felt like forever that you’d been touching yourself and getting nowhere when the batteries on your vibrator died and you whimpered, kicking your legs down into your mattress in frustration.

“Goddammit,” you moaned into your pillow, tossing your phone and vibrator aside, the ache in you worse than you’d ever really remembered it being before. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep like this, your whole body drawn tight and needy. You fumbled in your drawer for the charging cable and plugged the vibrator in before sighing and staring up at the ceiling again.

Your thoughts drifted to Joel again. You couldn’t help it, he’d felt so good against you in the pool. He knew you so well, even after all this time. He kept your favorite snacks at his house and draped a blanket over you when you started getting cold when watching a movie. He was so funny and so handsome it hurt to look at him and he’d felt so fucking good.

Your fingers slipped between your legs again without really thinking about it, brushing against your swollen, sensitive clit. You resisted it for a moment, the idea of falling into the fantasy of you with Joel, but the need drawing everything inside you all tight and molten won.

It swallowed you quickly once you gave in.

The memory of him was there at the fore so fast, the way his lips had felt on you so many years ago. How you thought they’d feel against you now. His hands ranged over you, around your waist, down to your hips, his fingers twisting and knotting in the fabric there as he bunched it up to hold you firmer, reach you better. You moaned and rocked into your hand, sliding lower, your palm pressed against your sensitive nub as you slipped a finger inside yourself with a moan. You worked yourself open slowly, your slick making easy work of it, as you imagined it was his hand between your legs, his fingers sinking into you. How he’d take your swimsuit off and line his cock up with your entrance and push inside of you as he moaned your name. How his fingers would grip your flesh, prying at you as though he was trying to take you apart to keep pieces of you for himself. How he’d work himself so deep into you that you were certain no one else had ever come quite so close to climbing into another person’s skin before.

You rocked your hips against your hand to the thought of him, not sure where memory ended and fantasy began, the fingers not plunging needily into your hole finding their way to your breast, grasping at the soft swell there, your own hand so unsatisfyingly small compared to his. You remembered the way his voice trembled as he breathed your name - his mouth against the tender skin at the base of your ear - as his cock filled you, the whole of him buried inside like he belonged there as he came.

“Joel!” You gasped as your own orgasm hit, tight channel throbbing around the three fingers you’d managed to fit inside yourself, slick pooling in your palm and your tit filling your other hand.

You came harder than you had in years, let alone from only using your hand and not your toy. It took you a few minutes to come down from the high of it, indulging in the fantasy of him in a way you hadn’t done since your freshman year of college. He last time you gave into it was back when you’d first started dating Gale but you’d felt so desperately alone, like no one had ever bothered to learn you at all. So you’d let yourself pretend that your best friend was still your best friend, that he loved you the way you loved him and that fucking you hadn’t been some mistake he’d made on prom night. It had seemed the most supreme extravagance, pretending that Joel would have wanted you to come like that with him. It still did.

You put a stop to all that when Gale proposed, solidifying your relationship in an entirely new way. You tucked the memory of Joel and his body on and within yours away then. You’d never intended to think about him that way again. But then, you’d never intended to get divorced, either.

“Fuck,” you sighed, shoving yourself out of bed to pee and clean up the mess you’d made of yourself. Before you lay back down, you opened the golden notebook on your bedside table and found the page with the list. You went to the bottom and tried to add another line but the pen in the elastic loop wouldn’t write. You groaned before fishing out the red pen you’d left in your nightstand from a night you were editing in bed from the top drawer. You added two words to the bottom of your list - trying to ignore the way the diamond of your engagement ring caught the light from your lamp, casting little rainbows on the paper - and circled them, pressing the pen into the paper harder than you really needed to.

“There,” you said, capping the pen and dropping it on the notebook you hadn’t bothered to close. The pen rolled until it came to a stop, the red cap almost pointing to the newly added words as though they needed any more attention.

That, you thought, was the solution. If you could just figure out how to accomplish that, you could put Joel back in that little box and keep this stupid crush from blowing up your whole life a second time, as long as you weren’t an idiot about it.

You switched off the lamp and pulled your blankets tightly around yourself, trying to ignore the feeling that the words were glaring at you from their perch on your night stand. They blinked at you like neon behind your eyelids and you tried not to see them in the same way you tried not to think about Joel’s body on yours in the pool as you drifted off to sleep.

Get laid.

Next Chapter

A/N: I just adore these two. Honestly, they keep getting away from me, their conversations are so fun to write and explore that I get lost in what I'm trying to accomplish with a chapter. But that's OK! The ride is the point of this whole fic thing, right?

Thank you for being patient with this chapter! I got a bit sidetracked with another project but I think I'm in a good place to get back to my once a week updates here for a while. I hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait!

Thank you for being here! Love you!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

132 notes · View notes

loveronlineee · 1 year

Text

Classic Party Game (Spider x Reader)

Masterlist

Spencer “Spider” White x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: none

Synopsis: Y/N and Spider get put in a closet for seven minutes in heaven

GUYS the Heartbreak High fandom is barren of x Reader content and I am crying. Guess I gotta do it myself then. I have not proofread this sorry if there’s a lotta mistakes!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“Your turn Y/N.” Missy cooed as she gestured to the empty beer bottle in the centre of the circle. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and gave it a spin. Everyone cheered as they watched to see who it would land on.

Y/N looked around the circle. She wasn’t too bothered with who she’d do seven minutes in heaven with. She was friendly with most. Darren, Quinni or Amerie would be best, being her friends. They could just chill and chat for the seven mins, probably catch up on some mid party gossip. Any of their current partners, situationships or exes would be awkward though.

Malakai or Dusty, Sasha… Ca$h would probably be chill.

The bottle slowed to a stop. On Spider.

The room was divided with the boys cheering for Spider and everyone else feeling sorry for Y/N. Sasha put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Y/N you don’t have to go in there with that creep if you don’t want to.”

“Uh these are the rules!” Spider protested as he stood up. He stepped over to Y/N and held out a hand, shot eating grin on his face. “Shall we?” Ant and Dusty continued to cheer and clap as Y/N took his hand. She looked back to her friends reassuringly.

“I’ll be fine. If we tries anything I’ll just knock his lights out.” She shrugged. The pair walked into the closet and Amerie shut the doors behind them. She gave Spider a hard glare before she did.

“You do anything to her, I’ll kill you.” Spider scoffed as the doors slammed shut.

“Whatever.” He muttered.

Y/N sat down, Spider copied. Luckily it wasn’t a particularly cramped situation they had been put in. They had just enough space to sit and have their knees touching. They reshuffled to face each other where they sat. “I wouldn’t do anything by the way.” Spider commented. “That’s fucked.”

“I didn’t think you would.” Y/N replied plainly.

“That’s kinda surprising.”

“You’re a lot of things Spider, but I don’t think you’re a guy who would force me to make out with you.”

“Bar’s on the fuckin floor then.” Y/N chuckled at that, making Spider smile a little.

“You’re not all bad Spence.”

“You think?” Y/N would never say it out loud, but she’d always had a little soft spot for him. Yeah he was rude and annoying, but under all that he was actually a kind person. It was just a matter of a waiting game for him to grow out of this young asshole persona.

A game Y/N was willing to play.

“Yeah you have your moments. Don’t let that go to your head.” Spider chuckled.

“You’re not half bad either Y/N.”

“Not half bad? I’m a fuckin saint compared to you.” The pair laughed softly, hearing the others continuing to chat and play music outside.

Y/N leaned forward, moving her weight to rest on her arms, one hand firmly planted on the carpeted floor to keep her balanced. The other went to hold the side of Spiders face as her lips met his. She held it for a moment before pulling away yet keeping the distance between them small.

Spider blinked in the darkness of the closet, processing what just happened.

“W-Why did you do that?” He mumbled, still confused. Y/N gave him a cheeky smirk as she leaned in close once again. Her voice a whisper.

“Because they’ll never believe you.” She leaned back to her side just in time for the closet doors to open. Amerie glared at Spider before helping her friend back to her feet.

“You good? He didn’t try anything did he?” She asked, worried. Y/N shook her head.

“No Am I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.” Everyone turned as the girls walked back, Spider a little behind them seemingly dazed.

“Oi you alright mate?” Ant quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Everyone turned their attention to Spider as Y/N and Amerie sat down.

The blonde just stood there for a moment, staring at nothing in particular before he finally spoke.

“She… she kissed me.” Immediate laughter and disbelief filled the room.

“Bull-fucking-shit Spider!”

“No way.”

“You think we’re gonna believe that?” Spider continued to try and make them believe but to no avail. Y/N watched, amused, catching Spider’s eye.

Her smile distracted him for a moment from the arguing. Such an innocent little prank she pulled. He felt the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

Why did she kiss him? Was it just to mess with him? Well that was definitely part of it, but didn’t feel like that was the only reason. In that closet for seven minutes, Spider felt different. Like he didn’t need his guard up like he usually does.

Okay fine Y/N, I’ll let you have this one. Letting you win might mean it’ll happen again.

#heartbreak high spider #heartbreak high #heartbreak high spider x reader #heartbreak high x reader #spencer white #spencer white x reader #reader x spencer white #reader x spider #spider x reader heartbreak high

1K notes · View notes

joaofelix70 · 8 months

Text

A CRESCENT LOVE, AN EPHEMERAL PASSION | joão félix sequeira.

summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?

author's notes: after the win against luxemburgo, where portugal national team set the record of goals, his ex just posted "mysterious" pics with floki, his dog. joão was also there, almost hidden, actually. we all know she always does it, never assuming anything maturely, but instigating the frustration of the fans who care about him and to make every gossip website and tv show talk about it, just like a teenager who wants attention would act. basically, this inspired me. i really don't hate anyone, by the way. even thought influencers who don't spread any impactful content and nepobabies with no talent and only standard beauty annoys me, i can't lie.

warnings: bad language (of course it's joão saying the words), chaotically humorous almost all the time, but also involving sadness and angst. implicit sex reference, i guess? maybe?

what do you feel when you hear my name? shame? embarrassment?

does your brain even bring you any sign or memory involving me?

do you ever think about me?

are your moments with her comparable to ours?

can we talk? can we communicate?

is it my fault? do you miss me?

your head was drunk for the whirlwinds of questions that piled up and get bigger, like waves. they seemed to be drowning you. the glowing light and peace of your woody brown gaze gives you triggers. his smile remains embedded, in your heart, an eternal home. the numbness and wrapping of his lips, every inch of his tanned skin and firm muscles being appreciated and admired by you. his hair was shiny, soft and full by the salty waters of the european beaches: always caressed for you. his laughs at you giving him the most silly and lazy hairstyles, with you pretending to be a professional who was filming your customer to tiktok.

“do that pose! yes, your hand against your face! now, give me that playboy eye. just like that! you’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

when you get carried away in the game ‘who am i?’ and tried so hard doing the mimes, jumping excitedly and demonstrating your animation in a loud tone, before covering your own mouth and feigning naturalness, just to repeat the same instant acts.

when you made joão watch your random dances as soon as you won at uno and he’d tell how hilarious you were. when you cooked your regional foods and desserts for félix, his brother who’s hugo, alex — the photographer — diogo from the movemind channel and all of his friends. when he used to hold your face, rest his touch on your waist and thighs. tracing his fingerprints across your scalp, reveling in the ethereal smell of your hair, laying his lips against your entire face and stature, exalting you completely: from your ears, neck, collarbone, belly, legs and even your feet. being a gentleman, joão opened the car door for you, he intertwined the hands of you both in every single opportunity and helped you eat: having the cutlery for you to open your mouth and giving you support with the napkin. when you did his goal celebration. when the two of you invented a handshake, along with various inside jokes. for example, when joão posted many videos of him swimming and playing in the ocean.

“hey, flounder! ‘the little mermaid’? i loved it!”

“why am i not your ariel, tho?”

“why you didn’t say you’d prefer to be eric of the real life?”

“give me some respect, i’m the protagonist of this shit!”

“slay, king!”

you remember singing the songs that played in his car in the most chaotic way, using his hand as a microphone and taking the opportunity to kiss all over it and his fancy bracelets. you offered him affection biting his skin and enjoyed acting like his personal masseuse. you called him ‘my prince of portugal’.

“please, don’t become a stranger.” your last words, face to face. the intensity of the summer weeks of vacation, which were already ending, consuming you.

“you know i’d never do that. look, you’re such a unique person, and even though we’re gonna go back to our busy routines, i still wanna keep you in my life. i still wanna be that close to you.” joão declared and they both found comfort in each other’s arms. his perfume granted the beg leave and penetrated your lungs, giving you life. you felt like you shouldn’t let it go, but there was nothing else to accomplish. you were single, so was he. you ask yourself if everything would be different. maybe if you had tried your lips once again: asking him to give a chance to them, to have more. to not leave what you went through, together, in the box of forgotten memories. would that really suffice, though?

"it's obvious that you’d choose the blonde influencer with light eyes, slender body and member of a rich family. the one who was with a formula 1 racer days before she went to meet you. before you just disappear from my life, without saying anything. the one that doesn't show an ounce of authenticity and, of course, affective responsibility. who am i in comparison to her?! right, joão?" your voice flashed the disparity of fragility and indignation, trembling hands clutching the phone.

“y/n, listen to me. you’d never understand it, okay? you’re not inside this relationship, me and her are. you’re seeing it from the outside, just like everyone else. yeah, she was hanging out and making out with other people. so was i with you. but then, some things changed.” john seemed to be busy. echoes of other people's voices ran through the call.

“nothing has happened between us since the vacation, joão. what doesn’t make sense because i thought you were liking me. i only think about you!” you vented out and received silence. his answers tried to become existent and complete. he stammered, the audible sound of his familiar backwards cap being pulled off and his honey-colored hair being rubbed against his own fingerprints.

“do you think i don’t like you? holy shit, y/n. i even thought we could have so much more. a future together and everything. i think about you and i swear in the name of my family, and i already said that they mean the fucking world to me. the thing is: there’s something that still keep me going back to her. i don’t know if it’s because i’m with her since i was younger, but…”

“joão, this is emotional dependence. i’m sorry to tell you this, however, it’s necessary. i care about you. you’re so internally and externally beautiful, precious, successful and talented. you deserve better!” you interrupted him, stepping back and forth.

“y/n, i love her. when i looked at you…”

“she’s all that you see, right?”

“hm… yeah…” félix found himself in a bind. paralyzed, he remained without an answer for a while. the coldness of the material of his gold necklace touches his tongue: a way to combat the nervousness that generates the gnawed nails.

“my toxic behavior wants to help and fix you so badly, but i know i can’t get more involved than that. i’m not the one for you.” the words reproduced by yourself reinforced the fragmentation of your heart.

“j, baby… are you coming or not? i’m waiting for you, floki is waiting for his dad!” you heard that female voice call to him and realized the way that just this factor made his breathing destabilize.

“i think this is officially the end of whatever we had, joão. goodbye!” your voice was unstable and he realized it: sharp as deep, transparent and suffocating waters.

“i wish you the best, y/n. i apologize for not being what you expected, what you needed, and…”

“caralho, joão! que merda! (holy fuck, joão! what the hell?). come on, give me your phone!” the girl began to rant. her heels against the floor were exclamatory. she was running out of patience.

the call is over. again, you were superimposed on the ocean of blazing tears. you tried to convince yourself that everything went the way it was supposed to be.

but was it for real?

250 notes · View notes

thewrothode-if · 4 months

Note

♡ROs dynamic with A tall Mc vs with A short Mc?

Thyra:

Tall Female MC: She finds it extremely hot. Every time you look down at her whenever you have to tell her something, the heat in her stomach burns. This makes it hard for her to keep eye contact with you, because every time she does so, she wants to (if I may say so) fuck. :)

Tall Male MC: She feels a lot more nervous around your tall form. Having to look up at you always makes her shy, which in turn makes her a lot more irritable. So when she throws an insult your way, she doesn’t actually mean it. She’s just a little bashful.

Short Female MC: She feels the need to protect you. She’s a lot more gentle with you, but her insults don’t stop, especially not if you’re a lively personality who loves to jest around. One thing she loves to do is rest a hand on the curve of your back any chance she gets.

Short Male MC: She finds it adorable. She’s a lot more confident around you, though not to the same extent as with a short female MC. If you’re a very tough personality, she will still be very shy around you, but if you’re a shyer personality, she unconsciously becomes more protective of you.

Gungir:

Tall Female MC: He’s kinda intimidated if you’re taller than him, but deep down he loves it. If you’re tall, but not taller than him, he feels powerful, like he’s won a childish game against you. Even if you’re taller than him, he still wants to be the one who protects and takes care of you. He still wants to be a “man” around you.

Tall Male MC: He doesn’t think much about your height. It’s like he doesn’t even notice it. The only time he would ever notice would be when you try to use your height to intimidate him. If you’re a more shy personality, he finds it funny how different you are compared to your intimidating figure. If you’re a bolder personality, he again, wouldn’t comment because it’s what he would’ve expected.

Short Female MC: Oh boy, if he’s gentle to begin with, he’s even more gentle with a short female MC. He is definitely afraid he might break you if he accidentally runs into you or holds you too tight. As much as he loves the size difference between the two of you, he still worries about it a lot.

Short Male MC: Anyone shorter than him gets treated with a gentler hand, however, not as much as a short female MC would. He knows you’re strong, so he isn’t as worried about hurting you, but he would still try to avoid anything that would result in that. I can definitely see him being slightly smug about having a height advantage on you.

Raud:

Tall Female MC: Similarly to Thyra, he finds it very sexy, but he would never admit it, not to himself and not to you. Whenever he sees you fighting on the battlefield, he gets very hot and bothered. I can see him being shyer around you. This is why he prefers talking with you while sitting down…

Tall Male MC: He notices it, but he doesn’t comment on it (not in the beginning at least). If he gets his memories back, he’s kinda bitter that you ended up being taller than him. Also, once again, he would find it hot. This man just has a thing for tall babes I guess. He loves hugging bigger bodies because it makes him feel safer. So whether he’s doing the hugging or getting hugged, he’s loving every moment of it.

Short Female MC: He has this instinct to protect you. As harsh as it may sound, he wouldn’t have much faith in you on the battlefield. You would need to prove it to him that you can take care of yourself because otherwise he would never let you leave his sight. He really can’t lose you too. I also envision him being more shy with you because he would see himself as having to be the one to take the lead and make advances.

Short Male MC: He’s the same with a short female MC. He wants to protect you. He also ends up worrying a lot about you. He’s still very closed off and shy with you, mostly because he just has no clue how to talk to human beings. Deep down, he would definitely enjoy being taller.

Anne:

Tall Female MC: She’s kinda intimidated by you, especially if you’re a very flirty type. Your flirting would overstimulated her senses and she would end up running away and pushing you back. Growing a romantic relationship with her as a flirty tall female MC would be more of a challenge because of how out of the norm it is for her.

Tall Male MC: She’s a shy babbling mess. She really can’t take any form of flirting, especially not from such a handsome, tall, rugged man. If she decides she likes you, she would follow you around like a puppy, subtly begging you for attention. When you’re together, she would show you off any chance she gets.

Short Female MC: She feels powerful and is very overjoyed. Finally there’s someone who’s shorter than her. You will never hear the end of it. She will constantly tease you about your height, fondly resting her chin on the top of your head. She would be more daring around you, but only when you aren’t firing shots back. ;)

Short Male MC: She is once again, overjoyed and filled with superiority. She would be more hesitant to tease you but deep down, she’s coming up with so many jokes about your height. She would still not flirt with you outright, because even if you’re shorter, she would be too shy to do anything more than a subtle bashful smile.

???:

Tall Female MC: His first thought would be that he wants to see you kneel. The only thing he can ever think of is always somehow related to sex, so there will be a lot of sex jokes around you. He would feel a lot more powerful to have a taller female MC by his side. He will never stop bragging about being able to bed you (if he manages to).

Tall Male MC: Just like with a taller female MC, he finds it extremely sexy and his whole being urges him to make you into a submissive little doggy he can command around. Having a huge male MC by his side is just as amazing as having a tall female MC by his side.

Short Female MC: He always hooks up with shorter women because that’s just the norm. The women are usually shorter than him so he doesn’t really bat an eye when you are as well. Though, he will enjoy it if you’re a bolder type. A feisty tiny goblin is very fun to play around with!

Short Male MC: This he finds very interesting. He loves it. It makes him feel powerful in a way he can’t really describe. Every time you’re forced to look up at him, he squeals with joy on the inside. You will never be free from his teasing, I promise you that.

#I went all out for this #thewrothode #character-asks #/#interactive fiction #interactive if #interactive-if #interactive game #interactive novel #dashingdon

101 notes · View notes

acesofspadess · 4 months

Text

Let The Games Begin

Worth The Risk Masterlist

narry x oc

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

You know the saying, easier said than done, well you never meant to take that so literal. Over the course of the next couple weeks, shit had hit the fan. You were good, that was never the question, but being so young and inexperienced compared to the rest of girls set you behind from the beginning.

“The final contestant who’s made it through… is…”

It wasn’t your name. And while 99% of you knew it wouldn’t be, the 1% in you was more hopeful than ever. You didn’t let the tears fall until you were backstage by yourself. You went to text the siblings before someone sat next to you. “I'm sorry you didn’t make it. You were really good.” The accent wasn’t like your own. “Did you not make it either?” you saw the redness in his eyes, and when he shook his head to confirm your guess you rested your head on his shoulder. “Autumn.” you recited, “Niall.” he gave back.

“Nice to meet you Niall, even under the unfortunate circumstances.” you both laughed softly at the attempted joke before silence fell over you both. The silence was comfortable, it was peaceful, home like almost.

“Can I have all the girls over here please?” one of the workers called in your area and you and Niall looked at each other, confusion over your faces. “Maybe they’re collecting the boys too? Go and check.” you urged as he helped you up. “I’ll see you later Autumn.” he waved goodbye as you went in the opposite direction.

Meanwhile….

Nicole, Louis, and Simon, were looking at the photo cards of the boys. “I like these 5 together.” Nicole happily cheered but Simon seemed off-put. “It's missing something.” he pointed out, and while Louis and Nicole thought to adjust the boys Simon went over to the girls group. He looked for a specific photo and once he found it he put the card in line with the boys.

“No Simon, you can’t do that.” The first disagreement was made by Nicole. “But her voice would go perfectly with the rest of the boys.” he stood his ground and looked to Louis who was studying the faces intensely. “I have to agree with Simon, Nicole. They look good together, I'm sure they would sound even better. I don’t know why you have something against her.” He defended and stood with Simon.

“I don’t have anything against her,” she quickly told off. “I just don’t think that she belongs in a boy band.” Louis looked at the photos one last time. “Then let her choose.” he offered, looking down at Simon who spoke, “Have her come in with the girls, then we’ll decide from there. But I think even she would prefer the boys.”

Present…

As you walked on stage with a group of girls from the left wing, a group of boys, some of which you recognised, Harry, Zayn, and now Niall. You couldn't stop looking over at them, wishing you were with familiar people, some who actually cared to learn your name.

“Hello.” Nicole spoke softly into the mic making you snap your head away from the boys as everyone repeated the greeting. “Thank you so much for coming back. I know judging from some of your faces that this is really hard. We’ve thought long and hard about you individually, and you are all too talented to let go of. So we’ve put together two separate groups.” Nicole handed the mic to Simon who was looking right at you. “Autumn, do you mind joining the boys?” The faintest smile made its way to your face as you walked across the stage standing in between Harry and Niall as they had created a space for you.

“See she looks happier there.” Simon whispered to Nicole as you walked across the stage. She nodded in understanding, having to admit that you did indeed belong with them. “We’ve decided to put you both through to the judges rounds.” Time seemed to freeze as you repeated what he said over through your head till you were being wrapped in a massive hug. You immediately wrapped your arms around the figure you now knew was Niall before you both separated and shook Harry who was crouched into himself. He popped up wrapping you and Niall into a hug full of laughs and cries.

As you walked off the stage together you all huddled up again. “I know this might be weird with me, but I have an older brother-.”

“You're one of us now, it doesn't matter.” One the boys who you hadn’t met yet cut you off and you smiled. “Louis.” he held his hand out. “Autumn.” the tallest boy came over to you too. “Liam.” you knew he had heard you so you didn’t repeat it again. When you all walked outside you saw Bentley, Nan and Pap, and Anne chatting together. You assume it was over what just happened. When they saw you, you and Harry ran towards them. You hugged Bentley who held you tightly. “Where’s Bev?” he pointed towards the car to see Beverly asleep. “She has the ability to fall asleep anywhere.” you both laughed before you dragged him over to meet the rest of the boys. “Bentley, Niall, Louis, and Liam. You’ve already met Harry, and Zayn.” he greeted them as Anne pulled you into a hug. “I’m glad you're with them. They need some girl power in their lives.” you laughed with her as it came naturally.

Anne decided she needed a picture of all you, and as you sat on the stairs next to Harry in front of Liam you were truly in for a ride.

———————-

Worth The Risk Masterlist

tags:

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive @maeflowers653 @purple9950 @forkmeniall @nathalielovesonedirection @hopsydaisy @shortie-niya

82 notes · View notes

bropunzeling · 2 months

Note

matthew/leon 💛 please!

💛 reunion kiss/relief (for u and also @msmargaretmurry)

The distance between Florida and Spain isn't all that large when you think about it. Definitely not in comparison to Leon's flight out from Edmonton. Nine hours and non-stop, compared to multiple legs and spending a short eternity in O'Hare. It shouldn't feel that long.

Leon swears he can feel every second of it.

By the time he's spat out into the rideshare zone, Leon's exhausted and mildly disoriented, clutching his bag and fumbling with his phone to call an Uber. He's hungry -- couldn't eat much on the plane, nothing sat well in his stomach -- and tired down to the bone. Every time he tried to shut his eyes, get some rest, he instead replayed the events of the night before on the inside of his eyelids. Watching the Panthers-Vegas game in bed with his phone three inches from his face, tracking number 19. Seeing him go down. Seeing him clutch at his shoulder. Seeing the way he skated later, like he couldn't keep his feet under him.

By an hour after the game was over, Leon had already booked flights.

Now, though, in the light of day -- sitting in the backseat of someone's SUV, watching the scenery pass and blur in his vision, clutching his phone in his hand like a lifeline -- Leon wonders if he's made a mistake. He texted Matthew as soon as he saw: how bad is it; are you out the rest of the series; should i come over; i'm booking flights. All sent in five and ten minute increments as soon as the final buzzer went. None of them answered. As much as he tries to tell himself there's good reason for that between the pain and the pain meds, he can't help wondering if it's really because Matthew doesn't want to talk to him. Won't want him there.

It's admittedly a little stupid, given that Matthew had tried so hard to get him to come to Florida after the Oilers got knocked out. Kept saying how good it would be to see him, how good it would be to actually spend time together. His parents would be in town. Leon could meet them, his little sister. Finally put faces to names. Take that next halting step towards something with a label, something they could talk about with people other than themselves.

Matthew had tried so hard, and Leon hadn't wanted to hear it. Losing was still fresh, stinging; the distance between them, normally easier to bridge, felt impossible to cross. He missed his parents, his sister. He didn't want to think about hockey and all the ways in which he was disappointed. He didn't want to sit around making nervous small talk while Matthew was on the ice, surpassing him.

It wasn't a fight, necessarily, but it wasn't not one, either. Leon had figured they'd take the time to cool off. Regroup once the playoffs were over, once Matthew had -- well.

All those thoughts and plans flew straight out the window the moment he saw Matthew hit the ice.

And now, here he is. Walking up the driveway to Matthew's house, a place he's only been to a handful of times. Hitting the doorbell before checking his phone, looking to see if Matthew texted him back; he hasn't yet.

The person who opens the door must be Matthew's mom; she looks like him, or Leon guesses he looks like her. Same eyes; same flash of a smile. "Come in," she says, obviously giving him a once over. "Leon, isn't it?"

"Uh," Leon says. He feels tongue-tied, fumbling his way through English in a way he hasn't in years and years. "Yes." He clutches at the strap of his bag. "Sorry to, uh. Show up like this. Uninvited. Um."

Matthew's mom hums. "I had a bit of a clue. He left his phone on the counter last night."

Leon's shoulders inch down from where they were stuck by his ears. "Oh," he says. "Is he asleep? I can, uh --" Wait should be the next word, but it's impossible to say. He's not sure he actually can.

She looks at him like she knows what he isn't able to get out. "You know where to go."

Leon does know where to go. He's only walked through this place a few times before, but the sense memory is so strong -- hanging around in the kitchen trading kisses between sips of coffee; how the edge of that picture frame had dug into his shoulder; the place on the rug where he'd stumbled, trying to shove Matthew into his bedroom, off-balance and unwilling to let go. The only thing he isn't sure about is what he'll see once he gets there.

The bedroom door seems so innocuous, and yet Leon holds his breath when he eases it open.

Matthew's asleep, hands curled towards his chest the way Leon remembers from nights in either of their beds, when his own hand would be taken ransom and impossible to extract. His mouth is open, hair matted. Even from here, Leon can see how much weight he's lost, the edges of bruises peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt. Can't see whatever brought Matthew down last night, but the lack of visible evidence doesn't ease the sharp ache in his chest.

For a long minute, Leon just stands there, looking. Then, carefully, he sets his bag down by the door and crosses the room, easing himself down onto the side of the bed. Gives into impulse and strokes sweaty curls off Matthew's forehead, then leans over and kisses his hairline.

Matthew stirs, eyes fluttering open. At first, he squints, like he isn't sure what he's seeing; then, he shifts, and that movement must jar something, because he winces and curls into himself. Even as he does, though, one of his hands reaches for Leon's wrist, grabbing on, holding fast. "Leon?"

Leon lets out a breath. "Yeah," he says. "I'm here."

Matthew's smile is small, and yet so sincere it hurts to look at. When Leon kisses him again, he imagines he can taste it.

#ask meme #again... how so long

34 notes · View notes

accirax · 9 months

Text

“Your mother is dead. You always omit that truth.”

As venus-is-thinking was rewatching DRDT’s Chapter 1 Free Time Events last night, she sent me screenshots of this one interaction between Charles and Whit, noting it as odd:

(She was right, btw. Whit, no matter how hard you try, you are not a normal man.)

Now, with the context of Chapter 2, we can probably assume that what Charles said here triggered Whit’s memories about his dead mom. There are a couple of options here, but the first one that jumped to my mind was that Whit was about to correct Charles, informing him that he actually learned how to cook himself. Obviously, he would then realize that saying this would bring up his mothers death, which he prefers to not mention, so he switches topics. While this option makes the most sense, given that Whit previously says, “teaching your kids how to cook is, like, the number one job of parents,” I would be surprised if Whit’s parents didn’t teach him how to cook at all.

It depends on how early in his life his mom died, I guess. And how long his dad has been away.

...wait, how long has Whit’s dad been away?

And then, an idea struck me. What if Whit’s dad doesn’t know that his wife is dead? What if Whit never told him?

This, of course, being a weightier spin on Whit’s secret, “Your mother is dead. You always omit that truth.” You omit that truth from who, exactly? People who already know what happened, or people like Charles and Teruko who don’t?

As I’m sure many people have assessed, Whit’s secret is comparatively pretty tame compared to the rest of the options. While his classmates are being revealed as manipulators and murderers, all we learn about Whit is a sad fun fact. But if Whit’s secret, in full, is actually “You never told anyone about the death of your mother, not even your father,” it becomes a much more severe secret.

Now, you might be asking, “if that’s the case, why wouldn’t Whit’s secret just say that outright instead?” Mastermind Whit interpretations aside, we have to remember that Despair Time is canonically a TV show. Assuming that Lin is watching his son on the big screen, as long as Whit’s secret says anything about his mom being dead, Lin would learn about his son’s concealment of the truth.

However, the question of why Whit’s secret wouldn’t be phrased like that for the sake of the other students remains. My best theory is this: it’s to make Whit suffer. I’m sure we all remember David’s heel turn in Chapter 2 Episode 11. After spewing his hateful monologue, he expresses how freeing it is to finally speak his mind.

For Whit, by not explaining what his secret is in full, they don’t give him the catharsis of expressing all of his thoughts and pain out loud. They still provide him the hopeful option of being able to salvage part of his story amongst the other students. While the motives of the TV show haven’t been expressly stated, it’s a pretty common killing game move to give the students hope just to rip it away and create despair, right...?

It’s like how Hu mentions that some secrets might be phrased unfavorably to make the students look worse. In this case, Whit’s secret could be phrased favorably with the intention of making him stressfully walk the edge of revealing the full truth and keeping it hidden. And, knowing Whit, there’s no way that he wouldn’t at least take a shot at repression.

Getting back to the secret itself, the way Whit talks about his family life also makes me believe that this could be the case. Through his dialogue, we learn that Whit lives a very solitary life. He talks about no one being home often enough to keep a pet, how lonely it would be to stay in the house all day, and how he’s befriended his neighbors’ dog and considers her family (but not the neighbors themselves?).

Sure, Whit is (barely) college aged, and college kids are typically considered able to live on their own. But Teruko and the gang believed that they were about to head to the Hope’s Peak entrance ceremony, so as far as Whit remembers, he only graduated high school very recently. If Lin knew that Elizabeth was dead, would he really leave his grieving teenage son completely alone in another country?

Because Whit’s dad doesn’t seem to currently reside within the United States, as far as I can tell. Maybe it’s just the Beetlejuice: The Musical fan in me, but I have to imagine that letting your kid grieve their dead mom whilst being completely isolated would be a very bad idea.

It would make sense to me if the reason why Lin allows this is because he doesn’t know. If Whit didn’t tell him the truth, either because it was too painful for him to say or because he didn’t want to jeopardize his father’s work abroad. According to Whit, his dad is “a real quiet dude,” so I could believe that he wouldn’t have any coworkers come up and console him for his loss, letting the cat out of the bag. The fact that he’s abroad further facilitates that idea-- how would Lin’s foreign coworkers even learn about Elizabeth’s passing when he himself doesn’t know?

You could run into problems if Lin went too long without seeing his wife, and started to wonder where she was. However, if Whit did something like impersonating his mom via text, it would be more possible for Lin to simply not notice that he hadn’t seen his wife in a while.

Venus also came up with the possibility that Lin is actually more of a deadbeat. He “works overseas” because, well, he lives there, having left his family behind. Whit could dye his hair blond not just to look like his mom, but also to look less like his dad. His skills as the Ultimate Matchmaker could have began at home with their split. It sounds a little implausible, but we know that Whit likes to ignore things that make him uncomfortable and put a positive spin on them.

At any rate, I believe this is a hypothetical worth considering. I definitely want to keep a closer eye on Whit’s backstory going further, as it’s possible that it’s not exactly what it seems.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #whit young #fanganronpa #my theories #more crazy theories with accirax #this is certainly more plausible than Charles Tawaki though #I’m not exactly sure how it would play into the story but I could definitely see it just being implied and not a huge plot point #love ya Whit :)

105 notes · View notes

yomogi-mogi-mochi · 1 year

Text

Beloved Thy Name

Pairings: Lilia/MC, Lilia x MC

Summary: Triumphing over your siblings on the human farm situated in the far corners of Briar Valley, you are implanted with the essence of the Tree of Eternity, gaining unmatched abilities in regeneration. When your Warden finds that the experiment is a success, you are promptly sold to the fae army as a weapon of destruction‒ a position you answer to with animal violence, much to the content of your handlers and the fae army, who name you Dullahan, after the myth of the headless reaper. When you come across the infamous Lord Lilia, great commander of the Fae army‒ he takes you under his wing, gifting you morsels of peace even with death on the horizon. You are simply taken with the sweet songs and sugary words which fall from his mouth‒ echoing them in the heart in your chest that did not feel like yours. Angst but happy/sweet ending bc if I get no comfort I'll implode

Notes: Continuing my myth (?) series I guess with Twist characters? This one is based on Dullahan (the Celtic myth about a headless grim reaper basically)

CW: References to human experimentation and manipulation (neither is enacted by twst characters). Takes place before the events of the game during the Human/Fae War

AO3 Link Here.

Masterlist

——————————————————

"Dullhan."

That name‒ like the clashing cold steel in your hands, and the taste of frosted blood upon your tongue‒ was given to you with purpose. That name‒ like the desire which seized your body with that moniker, was not truly your own. You did not call out to it, nor was it ever uttered upon your lips. It was always someone else crying out to that name, reaching out with a blade to thrust into your hands.

You could not recall your age when you left the human farm, arriving at a musty military camp north of the Valley of Thorns. Nineteen, maybe twenty, your Warden answered when a client asked, "ripe, youthful‒ good harvest" he had added. But it was only a vague notion. You recalled no celebrations‒ "birth-days", you later learned from Lilia‒ on the farm except when you triumphed over your siblings on your last day on that land. Your Warden congratulated you, shaking the blood and cold metal in your hand, "good human, the best, most precious doll", he said. If you had felt a fragment of anything at those words, it was eclipsed quickly by the burning at your limbs that was enacted by your new Warden‒ "commander" he corrected with venom between his rotten teeth. Your Warden, with a neutral face, asked why your commander had done so with his "best and brightest harvest".

"To check the quality."

"I assure you the essence of the Tree of Eternity is quite powerful." Your Warden tapped against the hard resin implanted between your collarbone. "Even with its abilities resting inside a human‒ it allows for extraordinary regeneration‒ this child can move just as well without its head‒ would you like to see?"

"Hm. I tell a lie. I merely wanted to feel the extent of the tree's capabilities with my own hands." He gazed at your arm with a warped smile that reached to his pointed ears. The stump at your shoulder was already weaving into veins and sinew, forming into flesh that felt distant from your body. Your lungs felt like hot coals, holding in the fire in your throat, however you were grateful that your commander had numbed you to any pain that came after in battle. When you carved death into human armies with animal force‒ fingers, bone, skin, and limbs were carelessly severed off to continue your path of undivided violence, fashioning victory for the fae army. If you fulfilled your purpose, you were fed, bathed, and sheltered. So the brief bursts of pain was nothing compared to what awaited you if you did not fulfill your handlers’ desires. You lost your head many times in the throes of your feral brutality, planting seeds of terror within all who witnessed the death hollowed out in your eyes, glowing with hot blood on your severed head. You carried it like a lantern, a harbinger to the destruction that followed the body which owned it. "Dullahan" was the name humans and fae cursed‒ either in inconsolable despair, or in hopes of victory. You answered to both.

"You there."

You turned, eyes hastily searching for the crest which indicated rank on the chest of the soldier. The high crest of the Queen of Thorns. Immediately, you dropped your body to the ground, on your knees, sickles held in one hand over your chest.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Should you not be resting at the infirmary? Your arm seems quite definitely severed."

"There is no need, my lord." The fleshy webs were already forming at your elbow, lacing elastic tendons around white bone. "I assure you that my regeneration capabilities exceed any human or fae of this land."

"You are the one they call Dullahan?"

"That is what they say, my lord."

"Hm. How fascinating‒ so you are the human they've infused the Tree of Eternity with." He lifted your still incomplete arm‒ you complied, letting it fall limp within his gloved hands like a doll. You learned to let people do what they wanted with your body‒ it was easier to listen than to expend energy resisting. That was something you learned while being pulled into a soldier's quarters one night‒ having your mouth forced open, arms and legs stiff as you swallowed thick, salty liquid. You realized that, in the same way you boiled the blood in your body to possess it with mindless violence, swung your sickles carelessly to be fed, it was less pain to spread your legs, and lie flat against the flimsy cot at their command. Like your name, like all the words spoken to you‒ it was easier just to follow its desire than to awaken a rebellion inside you. It would tire you out anyway. So you let the man handle your arm, twisting and turning it to watch the meaty strings form your hand. You stood as he raised it to the clouded sunlight, hunching your solid form to appear smaller. "Unlike magic I've ever seen." He let go, your arm falling with the gravity that suddenly weighed on top of it.

"I've heard you can move without a head like the very myth your name comes from. Is this true?"

You stilled at that statement. "Permission to ask a question, my lord?"

"Sure." He nodded with slight amusement creasing his brow.

"What is this 'myth' you speak of?" You raised your eyes for the first time to his face‒ you were met with young, porcelain skin and hair as dark as a raven. Fiery magenta eyes embellished with smoky coal stared back in slight confusion.

"The myth of Dullahan? Surely you know, it's from the human culture, is it not?" His head tilted, letting you gaze at his cascading dark locks with envy. It seemed so silky, softness unlike anything you've ever touched. You hands, accustomed to the rough, threadbare scraps which made up your military uniform, and the rocky, earth packed ground you slept on, itched with desire, hoping a featherlight touch on the soft elegance of his entire being, just for a second. Had you known the word "beauty" at that time, you would use his name in place of it. But a doll designed to beckon destruction‒ you did not know such fair words.

"I am afraid I do not, my lord. I have never encountered a human outside of battle."

"In that case I can only tell you it is a tale about a headless warrior which embodies an omen of death. I know nothing else about it, I'm afraid." He rests a hand on his chin. "I was looking forward to seeing you headless‒ I thought you just walked around like that." A chuckle raised from his lips. You were new to such a light, delicate sound‒ letting it echo in your chest many times after it had stopped at your words.

"With your command I can certainly do so, my lord." You stepped down once more, raising your sickle to your neck, drawing it promptly through skin‒ he knocked the cold metal from your hands, eyes widened in something you had never seen.

"Fool! What good will you be if one of my men injures themselves?!"

With quick reflex, you bowed down your head to the ground. But the fire that ran deeply in his fuchsia eyes made your eyes widen, brows furrow under the veil of darkness you created with shadow on your face. Tightness in your chest lingered, before you wrung it out into your shoulders awaiting wrath that followed the rage pointed at you with cruel eyes and spat words. "My greatest apologies, my lord."

"Is this one bothering you, Lord Lilia?" A familiar hand thrusted you deeper into the ground, buckling your knees and knocking your face into the solid earth. You tasted grainy soil in your mouth, swallowing it silently, and awaited your commander's mercy.

"No. Do not handle our men with such rough hands, commander." Anger radiated from Lilia's eyes, seeping into your back which basked in his glare. "Otherwise I will have to reconsider your position here since you are clearly not fit to lead.”

"...my deepest apologies Lord Lilia. I merely thought‒" You felt your commander's hand snap away from your head, loosening the pressure on your face that pressed against the dirt.

"You don't need to think, commander, since it is clear that you cannot. Just do as I say and leave them here."

"C-certainly, Lord Lilia." Hasty footsteps vibrated through the solid ground you kept your face to, however you still sensed anger‒ some from your commander, however more from Lilia, who placed a gently hand your shoulder.

"Are you alright? Rise, Dullahan."

You did as you were told, feeling cold filth stick to your cheek. "I apologize if I upset you, Lord Lilia." Why did I upset you?, was a question that you always knew to keep to yourself.

He pulled you up onto your feet, dusting the dirt on your flimsy uniform. Fresh blood seeped into it, which trickled down your nose, on your lips, to your chin. Lilia wiped it off, softly grazing your lips with the warmed blood of his thumb.

"You…" He paused, looking towards your distant eyes in an attempt to find any pain, discomfort, or sorrow. The hollowness he found instead made him swallow thickly. "You didn't do anything to upset me." He traced your line of sight towards your commander's disappearing form. "Does he always do that to you?"

You kept your stony gaze at his crest. "Do what, my lord?"

"Hurt you."

"It heals, so it does not hurt."

"Just because it grows back doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I mean your pride, too."

You sounded that word in your mind "p-r-i-d-e". You wondered what it meant, but you decided not to ask so many questions. Nothing hurt, not for long anyways. The pain could never be retrieved long enough for you to truly feel it. "There is no pain. It heals anyway, my lord."

"That doesn't…" Lilia paused, pity curving his flowery lips to a frown. You quietly mimicked the gesture, twitching the corners of your mouth ever so slightly. You didn't like seeing him so upset.

"I apologize, my lord."

"You don't need to, you did nothing wrong." Lilia rested a hand on the weapon mounted on his hip, turning his body away from you. "Come with me."

You knew not to refute any words that were pointed at you. So you merely followed his command, trailing his form with quiet footsteps.

——————————————————

For the ensuing days, you learned that the fae army was joining all of its forces to prepare for the great battle that was climbing over the horizon of this long, long war. This knowledge was acquired by your time you now spent with Lilia‒ who unofficially claimed you from your commander. Though on your skin, you could almost feel the wrath shaken first of your commander that stiffly rested at the side of his body upon hearing this news‒ it brought you relief that there was almost nothing he could do to object Lord Lilia‒ great commander of the Fae forces.

Tonight, like many nights preceding it, you sat by the fire next to your new commander‒ drinking in the warmth it brought you. Like a ritual every night, Lilia hounded you with questions regarding your upbringing, your relationship with your commander, asking for names, for details.

"What is your true name?"

"My true name?" You echoed.

Lilia swung his wooden jug in a leisurely manner, a sight you had been seeing more of recently opposed to his steely facade as great commander of the Valley of Thorns. "Yes, the name that you were given." He says with confusion in his grin. During his time with you, he frowned less, seeing sometimes that you would mirror his movements very slightly. He didn't like seeing you so upset.

"Dullahan is the name I was given. The name cried by humans and the name fae call out to beckon my sickles." You twirled the blades in your hand with experienced control. "It was the name I was given after the wardens infused my body with the sap of the Tree of Eternity that grants me my power."

"Surely you have a name besides the one called out to you in battle, do you not?"

"No. They do not give us names on the farm. Only symbols burned onto our backs."

"The farm?"

"The human farm. The fae kept us there to train and find the strongest among us that could be the vessel to the Tree of Eternity. It's long gone."

Surprise, then a darkened look adorned your commander's face. "What ever happened?"

"The wardens had me set them all free."

"..."

"I set them free from the prison that is a name‒ harvest, they called us. I suppose that is also my name. Only one of us would survive and enter this war. So I freed them." You told yourself more than Lilia, who sat across from you with a somber expression. Only the crackling of the fire was heard within the silence that rang between your two, until Lilia spoke.

"The purpose of a name is not to be a prison. It is a hand we reach out in the darkness that echoes against our form, and from there we are able to distinguish the existence of ourselves." He rested his head in his hands. "Without it, we are formless, we are lost."

"Then…" you started, "...It seems I have always been lost. I have no form to call out to, yet even in battle my body grows back as if it remembers something that is not truly there." You felt the raised scar on your neck.

"You do have a name. You just need to find it."

"Where do I find it?" He reached out a hand to your shoulder.

"Deep, deep inside yourself."

"My…self" that word felt foreign to your tongue. "… I am not sure I know what that is enough to search in its depth." You admitted blankly. Lilia squeezed your flesh, warming it, you tensed at the heat. It felt alive, it felt soft, it felt kind‒ unlike the cold flesh that grasped your hands in mercy, or the icy grip that herded you back to slaughter. "But," Something welled inside you that made you body feel like yours for once.

"...I hope that name is kinder to me." You warmed your heart with his touch.

"It will be." Lilia brought you closer. "It will be." He echoed like a prayer.

——————————————————

He promised to make you his second in command that night, a statement which made you raise your eyebrows to. You had no rank, no position besides as a harbinger of death‒ an object which fulfilled a promise made from the egos of men which desired to live. If any rank, you would be among the armory and weapons stored in the artillery‒ melded together and hardened into another, more useful blade when broken. But in few days time, you were exchanged with several blocks of Mystium, which Lilia threw to the ground at your old commander's feet with a piercing, downwards gaze.

"Is that stone not precious to our victory?" You glanced at the piles of material, shining and brimming with magical energy.

"...You are much more so." He murmured, voice strained and face veiled with his untied hair.

You said nothing, practicing your form with tense muscles, looking over at your new commander's face occasionally. You noticed you sickles were worn however, prompting you to excuse yourself to the dark depths of the forest of thorns, draining blood from a severed hand and squeezing out organs through a deep gash in your stomach. You had done so with surgical precision, which earned you several gold coins at the local hospital, traded quickly for a new pair of sickles. Lilia eyed you with suspicion when you came back, your arms and torso bathed in blood and filth, the silvery shine of new blades catching his eyes. He asked what happened, and you answered him honestly, much to his horror. It was several days after that he handed you sickles made of Mystium.

"Just ask me next time." You had never felt a heavier satchel of gold than the one Lilia gave you with those words. The green stone glistened even with dark clouds looming over the camp. "Beautiful" was a word you learned from Lilia that day‒ it was apparently different from "pretty", or "cute", the words your commander's lower ranks called you in their bed, sticky and salty with sweat. The word in itself was just that‒ beautiful‒ especially when it was sung pure from Lilia's lips, and echoed onto your own.

Bea ‒ you ‒ tea ‒ full. You sounded out, a sweet laughter erupting from Lilia. "What does it mean?"

"It means something shines in your eyes and you love it‒ even if it burns."

"Oh." You inspected your new sickles again letting it shine in the airy light. "This is bea-you-tea-ful, then. Isn't it Lilia?" Everytime you let his bare name escaped your lips, you felt a strange tingling in your stomach. Like that swelling in your body, you enjoyed the sensation, provoking you to say that name as much as he allowed.

He looked into your eyes, not even glancing at the stone‒ you decided you didn't mind. "Yes, it is."

Though you had been surrounded by fae all your life since the moment you were born into the farm, you had never felt such closeness comparable to your days with Lilia. It felt less sterile‒ more warm, crisp, and pure‒ and you delighted in this new storm brewing inside you, keeping your form close to Lilia's at all times. "You're my second in command. I expect you with me at all times to answer my call." He echoes your sentiment.

"Of course."

"Speaking of which, I don't even have a name to call you yet."

"Is it necessary?" You asked.

"Dullahan is a bit long, don't you think?"

"I don't know. Everyone knows that name." It was often the name humans cursed, and the fae prayed for‒ there was no reason to announce your name when it had already been called out to bring destruction, or beg for mercy.

"How about (Name), then?"

"That's fine." Anything from you, you thought.

"Hm (Name), (Name)...does that sound right to you, (Name)? Does it echo in your heart?"

The fanged smile on his face when he carved that sound with his throat made you immediately answer.

"Yes." You breathed.

"(Name) it is, then." Cherishing that sound now, you hoped he would keep it quietly inside his heart, letting it be chanted to no one but him.

"I like it. It's bea-you-tea-ful." You knew your pronunciation would make him laugh, and he did.

"I'm glad you finally found it then."

You learned many more words from him‒ love, precious, peace, delicious, sweet, flower, honey, salty, creamy, soft, warm. They felt too sweet, too decadent on your tongue‒ so you let it swirl in your mouth, sharpening them in your mind like barley sugar‒ another thing Lilia introduced you to. When you swallowed the hard candy like the pills the wardens used to give you‒ your commander burst with laughter.

"No‒ (Name)! You're supposed to keep it in your mouth to dissolve it!" He gasped between fits of boyish giggles bubbling from his mouth.

"Oh." You felt the hard sugar slowly slide down your throat. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. It was funny actually. Here." He placed another between your lips, parting the soft flesh with sweetness before pushing it towards your tongue. "And keep the rest. I think you'll like it." A metal can was handed to you, rattling a bit as he placed it gently in your hands. You soaked in his warmth that lingered on your lips and the hollow metal between your fingers. It felt sweeter than the candy slowly melting on your tongue. You molded it into a sharp fragment with wet muscle, cutting through your mouth‒ tasting the saccharine copper which spread on your tongue as a Lilia chattered away, explaining all matters of delights in sugary language. When words came from him, it seemed like the very definition of beauty trilling from his lips.

Even on stormy days where war and death reigned your lives, Lilia provided little morsels of peace that you shared together like the heat from a smoldering fire, huddled together in his spacious quarters in a bubble of serenity. He had taught you to read, so you sat on the earth near Lilia's feet while he worked on tactical analysis. You had tried to help at first, but that proved impossible when you didn't even know how to read words.

"You were never taught?" There was no malice in his voice‒ there never was when he talked with you.

"No. My warden and commander said it was unnecessary for the likes of me." You parroted their sentences you had heard with sharp laughter when hiding in the shadows one night.

His expression softened, before bringing you a book into your hands. "Here, let me teach you then."

You had practiced the words that flew from his mouth with clumsy lips, now reading each word carefully with a whisper. Pink circles around some words littered the pages, which you had drawn, to collect beautiful words and store them in your chest next to Lilia's voice which echoed them in your heart.

Your finger paused on the word "beloved". Lilia had taught you the definition of "love" but "be-loved"?

"Lilia?" You raised the book to his lap, placing your fingernail to the word. Lilia hummed in response, looking over. "What does it mean to 'be-love-ed'?"

When surprise adorned his face, you shrunk back, taking the book back into your chest. Lilia stopped you before you could, taking the text gingerly from your hands, and gliding his pale hand across the page to rest his finger next to yours to point, "Dearly beloved". He tapped on the word, thinking. You laid your hand flat onto the parchment next to his, to feel the vibrations of his rumination through your skin.

"Beloved, beloved…hm."

"Does it mean to be loved?"

Eyebrows twist in further contemplation at that. "Hm…no. It's something much deeper." Tap, tap, tap. "Ah, I guess it is love‒ except we can actually touch it." He stops his tapping, laying his hand like yours to line it against the side of your hand. You gazed at him with confusion. "Because beloved is a person. Unlike love that is the space and the actions between people‒ beloved is the face of that love. It's a vessel of love‒ and you can kiss it, hold it."

"I like that word. Be-love-ed." That word tingled on your tongue. "It sounds like a kind name."

"I suppose in some ways it is." He hummed.

You had wished you could change your named to that‒ "Be-loved". Such sweetness, such love it would be to taste the word on your lips. Beloved, beloved, beloved. Lilia's voice had completely replaced your own inside your chest, ringing that word like clear water. You leaned next to him, camping next to his warmth. He let down a hand, bringing you closer to it.

——————————————————

The great battle was coming, you could read it on the tension written on the soldier's faces. You suppose it would have been inevitable to be in your situation right now‒ arms behind your back and face pressed onto the cold ground, the soldier behind you pressing himself onto your thigh. He threw you onto the fabric of his itchy cot, a force which you accepted like a rag doll‒ slumping immediately into the surface like you had done so many times before. You lay stiffly, letting hands and mouth wander to spread you open wide‒ while you thought of other matters, truly anything else, to divorce yourself from the slick bitterness which swirled your skin and insides. You thought of the taste of barley sugar, the pink bottle of ink Lilia lent you, and his voice which called your name. You thought of the word beloved, contemplating through a feverish gaze if this man was the face of love. It wasn't, you decided. You would keep "beloved" close to your name, deep inside your chest like the tin can holding only a few morsels of sweetness left. This was too ordinary, too bland to gift such precious delectability upon it.

Your eyes phased back when you felt cold liquid dripping onto your bare chest‒ blood, your memory says. The delirium in your eyes never ceased as the shadow that loomed over you slumped to the side, off the cot. You lay still, breathing hollowly, closing your eyes just to get a little closer, closer, more, more, more‒ to fill yourself other than the desire of others in this humble moment. You wanted to taste sweetness on your tongue, from sugary words and honeyed candy‒ not the salt which spread on your lips.

"(Name)?"

You stopped immediately when hearing that voice, clinging onto it with heavy eyes and baited breath.

"Oh." Your voice came out raspy, hushed the dry salt in your throat. "Hi Lilia."

"Why…" He bit his tongue. "...What happened?"

You thought for a second, hoping the feverish heat in your temples would calm. "What always does."

Anger filled his lunge in deep, roaring breaths. Reading it off of him, you sat up from the bed, looking up into his eyes with a frosted expression. "I'm sorry. Did I upset you again?"

"No, no. You never do."

Still you apologize, quietly. "I'm sorry." Matters like what happened just now were normal, and you never felt anything of it despite turning it in your mind over and over. But today, you felt like you had done something wrong‒ not to yourself, but to Lilia, who stood with a darkened look. "Are you going to return me to my commander?"

"No. Never." He said deeply. "He's not your commander. I am. I need you…" A deep breath, calming his nerves. “I need you by my side as my second in command.”

"Oh." You looked down, craning your neck towards the ground. "Are you going to discipline me then?"

In the dimmed lantern light, you felt him crouch down, taking one soft hand into your hair and one gently onto your back, bringing you into his chest to cradle you in his warmth. "Never, sweet (Name)."

You kept your eyes wide open, afraid that if you would blink, it would be all gone. Though the trumpets of war begin to sound outside in the stony blue morning light, you relished the heat in this moment, knowing it would be washed away with cold blood when you were beckoned back onto the battlefield.

"But I'm dirty." You noticed, blood and sweat seeping into the fabric of his chest. He held you even tighter, as you hung limp in his chest, unblinking, unwavering to his touch that almost burned your bare skin.

——————————————————

Dullahan, Dullahan, Dullahan.

You felt a thousand souls call out to Dullahan, extending their armored hands towards the giant they saw in you, sickles clamaourned in their hands. They forced your worn hands open, opening the palm like the gates of hell, molding your hands I to the weapon with a twisted prayer.

Dullahan, Dullahan, Dullahan‒ it sounded like cold clashing metal, the slow drumming of death. You let it take over you‒ possess your body as always, drinking in the beat of destruction like bitter wine offered to dark gods. You carved silence into the battlefield‒ eventually, you succeeded. Everything was smothered to a leveled silence. The war was over, but you still felt empty violence writhing inside of you.

You looked around with smoke lightly burning your eyes, seeing nothing but a gray picture‒ fossilized into still, silent death. None of the other soldiers, none of your commander's, not a single soul was still present in the ash and dust. Your feet dragged your body, mindlessly wandering the empty world with a ringing in your ears. You felt absent with no one calling even the curse, Dullahan, at you. There was no way to end it‒ you couldn't die, you couldn't scream, you couldn't find yourself enough to lose yourself. Still, you raised your blade to your neck, hoping it would make you feel something, even if it was the echoes of war.

(Name)!!

That sound felt like a spring creek wash over you, crisp like lonesome winter but soaked in the warmed honey of the growing maytime sun. It reached a hand towards you. Not frigid metal, not the harbingers of death that attach at your wrists, not decaying blood‒ you, your soul, everything you are right at this moment. You leaned into the touch like a starved animal, drinking in the sweetness. Soft hands, soft eyes, soft touch‒ you would set this world ablaze, rip apart your own flesh, lose your head to serve these new gods. Lord, my lord, you thought‒ let any name from his lips be my new curse.

Slowly, you let your sickles drop to the ground made with rotting meat and blood. The emptiness in your grip made you yearn dearly.

"(Name)!!"

The earth was running under your feet, your body flying towards that benevolent song. You tested his name in your head‒ Lilia, Lilia, Lilia‒ before it flew out of your mouth like the stinging breath from your lungs.

"Lilia!"

He crashed into you with his warmth, squeezing your body to bring you closer and closer into him, as much as solid flesh allowed. Your arms grasped back, desperately, feeling his heartbeat from his back, into your tender palms. Flesh against flesh, your head dove next to his, pressing into his warmth and inhaling all you could into your skin. To lose any of it felt like losing yourself.

"Beloved,"

You immediately answered. "Yes?"

He paused, raspy breaths forced out of his throat before he caught his voice once more. "My (name)- my beloved (Name)- you came‒ you came to me. You're here."

"You called my name, my lord, my Lilia, my beloved."

Your names for each other, love, dearest, and adoration were the things you felt for each other. But above all, beloved rang clearest, straight through your blood unlike any other name cried upon you in war. How sublime it was to now call love your own. My beloved, mine, mine, mine.

Beloved was his name and thy own‒ and it would be sung until your voices turned raw with death. You cherished that sweetness, occasionally bringing it to your lips and onto his like this moment‒ singing joyously, what ecstacy it was to claim love with the warm of a face. No bitter taste of blood or metal could overpower the mulled honey you continued pouring into each other over the years to come. In a triumphal song against such distaste of violence and war, you sung a sweetened melody on your lips, towards the face of love‒ beloved, my beloved.

——————————————————

Notes:

I headcanon the Valley of Thorns to have been mainly a German culture especially because of their connection to gothic architecture (goths were germanic)- which would make them connected to paganism at first (because of their connection to scandinavia), before their conversation to Christianity

But I still added elements of Celtic mythology because the Goths were actually a subdivision (?) of the Celts after Rome's downfall. They actually had a large hand in the fall of Ancient Rome, being the final push Rome needed in its political tension when they seized the Western Roman Empire, causing the Eastern Empire to take control, which then at that point it had already divided into a bunch of clans that originally made up Rome. Though there are many types of Goths like Germanic Goths that inspired Gothic architecture, Celtic Goths also existed in predominantly Celtic regions on account of all the fighting and intermingling they were all doing. Also‒ Roman's actually had a special word for celts called "Scotti" which roughly translated in Latin to "cutthroats"- pretty cool lol.

But I imagine fae being that wide range of Germanic tribes slowly converting to Christanity by the time of the war, with humans of that area being similar but getting a head start in Christanity‒ which spread further with the war and Christianization overtime which occurred with the Goths as well. This is exactly why Christians had adopted "gothic" architecture because of that access to Germanic culture and art, especially with the shift from classical architecture and art which was more solid/structured and realistic (with idealistic components), into more figurative, and allegorical representations of art in the Christian religions‒ reflecting in the magnificence and skeletal feel of Gothic architecture. I imagine there were remnants of Celtic/Pagan culture and mythology however despite the general aesthetics of the Valley of Thorns, which is early gothic that are rooted in Germanic and Christian architecture (even though the film takes place in the 14th century in the high gothic era‒ really wish they went all out with the gothic stuff but nooo disney NEVER gives me historic accuracy or consistency >:((( ).

This also makes sense why the reader is reading a Christian text, because there were cultural shifts during the time. "Dearly beloved" is likely a Christian interpretation of Greek's agapétos during I believe was during the Renaissance when Christianity was returning to Classical ideas. Agape is the "highest form of love", which transcends everything like the Christian God's love (and most gods I believe since they're all made in the image of humans). Or as usual I made this more convoluted than it actually is lmao

Chose sickles as your weapons of choice because A) um, they're cool and B) because they're a weapon of harvest while being your weapons in destruction‒ its stuck between life and death as you are before you meet and get acquainted with Lilia.

The part where you hug is inspired partially from paradise lost‒ where Adam contemplates eating the forbidden fruit after Eve does. "Should God create another Eve, and I / Another rib afford, yet loss of thee / Would never from my heart; no, no, I feel / The link of nature draw me: flesh of flesh, / Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state / Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe."/“One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself” I'm not Christian nor have any meaningful connection to Christianity outside the academic realm but boy Milton's poetry make me yearn

Uuuhhh I'm so bad at endings lmk if that sounded good I wanted to do something bittersweet

382 notes · View notes

sonkitty · 20 days

Text

Crowley S2 Hair Post #16 Redone

(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)

Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 1, The Arrival, hiding Gabriel

...

Sideburns Check

The sideburns are immediately their longest length and remain long during the entire scene. They look even from the front but have differences when examined closely. In some cuts with a given angle, the right sideburn widens a little more from its own center at its bottom. Overall, it also looks a little more fuzzy and full in hair. The left sideburn looks more like it slants downward, in line with Crowley's jaw, from the ear toward his mouth.

That means the left side is considered the lighter side for this scene. The lighting in the scene itself shows much the same.

Gabriel is presumably upstairs in the earlier part of the scene, and his footsteps are heard when he later approaches. Given that, the game is leaving me to guess the following: Because Crowley already encountered Gabriel in this particular space within the bookshop on this implied day of the story, Crowley's going to get those longer sideburns after crossing the bookshop's main threshold. That happens even if Gabriel is all the way upstairs and not with Crowley and Aziraphale just yet. Gabriel's still in the building, and the bookshop knows that.

I used to think Crowley entering without encountering Gabriel yet but having such long sideburns was like the scene foreshadowing that Gabriel would be in it. I eventually changed my mind because of The Door Trick. That's the part of the story where I realized the space is reacting to Crowley based on various other factors besides who would be in a scene eventually.

...

Brighter Red Streak Check

The more saturated red streak has been mostly gone since the last time Crowley encountered Gabriel with occasional hints of stronger saturation at points and looking to finally take form in the preceding scene.

Here, the streak is far more clearly shown on Crowley, even with his hair being so much more saturated in red overall. It is actually forked outward in several cuts, hard to be sure of all of them. I am not going to check every cut or frame for when it might go into hiding due to distance, angles, and lighting.

Generally, I can see it when I expect it with the proper framing.

...

Hairstyle Changes

Aside from the longer sideburns, the loose tendril to the right of his face is gone. The hair on that side is more smooth.

Early into the scene, a pocket of hair is visible though it doesn't seem to last.

Compared to Crowley's earlier visit when encountering Gabriel, the color is more saturated. It is so vibrant, so red here. The general shape still swoops up and tilts to his right in a curve but separates more in its upper areas. The curve indents more from the left.

Sometimes the curving hair seems to separate a little more based on Crowley's emotion, most obviously when he's telling Gabriel to, "Just stay here."

Much like in Hell, the hair on the left side is brighter; the hair on the right side is darker.

...

Earthly Objects

(For reference: Earthly Objects)

Aziraphale starts the scene seated in his chair. His vendetta against the backs of chairs is active. His elbow is on the arm rest, and his lower back is touching a pillow. His back is otherwise ensured to not touch the back of the chair. He has a book and a number of papers in front of him at his desk with his hand possibly touching his glasses that can't be seen just yet.

He turns his head upon hearing Crowley enter.

The Tied Hands retie quickly. Crowley's right index finger is "making a point" while touching the astragal of the bookshop door and pointing toward the doorknob. The right thumb is on the edge of the outer door side and the astragal.

A slim pocket exists between the left jacket sleeve and the jacket torso that widens as Crowley enters.

The background behind Crowley, for what is outside the bookshop, has a blueish hue to it. Various other pockets form between Crowley and the door as he enters.

The clasp closest to Crowley's right hits a left lapel edge of the jacket. The watch is ensured to be visible, especially as the left arm crosses over Crowley's chest. With an extra shine from the watch suggesting an audience player look more closely, I looked around and can see the plate of Eccles cakes is gone, and that there is a curtain that's going to be more clearly shown as near a pillar. That pillar will be behind Crowley soon.

Either the left thumb joint touches the jacket at the end of the cut for this retying, or its shadow close to the jacket suffices. A small pocket exists between Crowley's legs and the bottom of the screen. This left thumb joint part happens after Crowley passed by behind some books.

Legs-to-lower-screen pockets repeatedly appear during the scene.

Aziraphale puts his glasses on, shifts forward in his chair so that he's no longer touching the pillow, and picks up a piece of paper.

With the Tied Hands retied, it is time for the third touch of The Sunglasses Trick. This third touch is Triple Part 2 for the Triple that eventually switches to a Single. These touches involve not hissing, taking place in the present day, and not touching an earthly object when the touch itself happens.

Again, Crowley has a pocket existing between his legs and the bottom of the screen. He has right hand aligned by his pants, such that his thumb is either touching the edge, or at least looks like it does. The lighting specifically casts over his thumbnail and thumb tip while casting the rest of the thumb in shadow. His right shirt sleeve is partly out.

If he needs overhead lights, he has them. There are two visually close to his sunglasses and two more further up and to his left. They are small compared to what was shown earlier by his car and what this scene is going to show later.

One of the tassel tips is above the Belt Head. If there are some more complex things for figuring out if and which lights are for the Belt Head, I don't know much. The best I've got is the overhead lights don't visually touch Crowley's actual head most of the time, so maybe the one that does here is for the Belt Head because the Belt Head is still visually part of what is happening.

The left index finger and thumb tip are visibly part of the touch, and it's best to see them in the video frame right before the tips are hidden in finding their target. With Crowley, the use of the left hand here implies more power.

In the last video frame of the cut when this touch starts but hasn't fully completed, there is a pocket between the right shirt sleeve, right jacket sleeve, and jacket. There is a pocket between the left shoulder, watch, left hand, some of the left side of Crowley's head, and neck. The left hand itself makes a pocket. The legs-to-lower-screen pocket is still there.

The following cut is a closer look at Crowley as he removes the sunglasses. It's a different angle of the same pockets made with the left arm. A self-made pocket of hair can be found in front of a pillar above the center of Crowley's left eye. Now the overhead lights have shifted such that there are three to Crowley's left. The sunglasses are removed.

Aziraphale is touching the paper from earlier and a pen. He'll eventually touch the glasses again to remove them.

Crowley throws his sunglasses on a desk and rings a bell. When he does that, the unquestioned prominently displayed cardboard box from earlier can be seen more clearly by any audience member looking for it. It can be found by the cash register and out of Crowley's line of sight, to Crowley's left.

When Crowley says, "I'm back," his shoes are touching both the floor and the rug, presumably to count as a touch to the rug itself. The phrase "I'm back" seems to be regarded as an allowed form of "Hello" in the game.

Aziraphale touches his own clothes and hands when getting up from the chair to watch the dance.

When Gabriel shows up, his left arm is so close to the railing on the stairs, but I think he's not touching it. His left thumb tip is visible. He is forming a pocket with his right hand, the tartan blanket, and the bottom of the screen. His right thumb tip is partly obscured at first, but he moves enough to show it during the cut.

There is a prominently displayed lamp near Gabriel connected the stairs. This lamp looks to be surprisingly important later in the scene because it's going to be Crowley's Overhead Light during and after the miracle. It is shaped like a large flame, and fire is an element associated with Crowley throughout both season 1 and season 2.

The main other earthly object touched in the scene is the chair Gabriel sits in. Crowley touches it by picking it up, by tapping its back, and by standing on it later; Gabriel, of course, sits in it.

Paying attention to the pockets after the touch for The Sunglasses Trick, the Tied Hands may be retied in a very special method with word play I haven't found because of something extra that happens. The world play I thought of varied. It included "leg up," "over and under," "up and down", and "go figure." None of those really clicked, but I would pick "leg up" if given a quiz and forced to choose one.

Rather quickly, the clasp closest to Crowley's left is at least visually in front of a left lapel edge of the jacket while Crowley's still holding the sunglasses. I can't be sure of an actual strike on that edge though.

His left thumb joint visually touches his jacket and creates a small pocket after he throws the sunglasses down.

Crowley's left index finger "makes a point" at the end of his apology dance. The watch is visible. Because I'm actually looking for anything special with the tie strands, I can see that the tassels (thumbs) dangle rather low—low enough that would place them "below the belt" if I could actually see the belt. Crowley's arms themselves make a pocket between themselves and the bottom of the screen in the next cut.

When Crowley approaches the desk again after the dance, I think I found a strike on a lapel edge. Even closer to the desk, a clasp is again questionably visually at a lapel edge but harder to say if it's actually striking that edge. With Crowley's right hand implied to be touching the desk, the tie strands swing over to Crowley's right with both clasps visibly well past the edge of the right lapel on the jacket. I think they switched too, but it is a lot harder to be sure than it usually is.

In The Pocket Trick, when something goes notably over an edge of something else in certain parts, I call it an over-the-rainbow touch. There's no active Rainbow Connection here, but that's what this movement reminds me of. Crowley's left ear is going to over his own overhead light later.

When Crowley tells Gabriel to stay here, one of the tassels (thumbs) is over his belt. He has both actual hands out and digits spread, at first. The camera work and Crowley's movement allow Crowley's actual right thumb to cover up one of the clasps of the tie strands three different times though the index finger and middle finger in front of the thumb on the third iteration. On this same third iteration, the ring finger and pinky finger are actually touching each other instead of spread from each other like the other digits.

There's a cut to Gabriel with a displeased childish expression, squinting specifically after Aziraphale says "your" and before "former people". The scene cuts back to Crowley to show that tassel is still touching the Belt Head. The hands are still out, but the right hand is in front of the knot of the tie. It's not obscuring a clasp until both actual hands go down while Aziraphale approaches Crowley.

As Crowley backs away, looking like he's trying to avoid Aziraphale touching him, his jacket covers the clasps, tassels, and belt altogether.

When Aziraphale approached, two pockets formed between himself and Crowley. One pocket is between Aziraphale's right hand, vest, Crowley's left jacket sleeve, Crowley's watch, and perhaps a little bit of Crowley's left hand. That's the upper pocket. A lower pocket formed between the rest of Crowley's left hand, Crowley's jacket, and Aziraphale's pants. These pockets disappeared into a general space existing between the two as Crowley backed away. This general space can still be a pocket in Earthly Objects; it's just not a closed type existing between their bodies.

Crowley creates another such closed type pocket when he points to Gabriel and says, "You..." Most of the point is with an index finger with the thumb out, but Crowley makes sure to actually extend and reveal the middle finger and ring finger while keeping the pinky finger hidden. The Tied Hands and Belt Head are definitely hidden by Crowley's jacket in this part.

As Crowley is grabbing the chair, the tie strands touch Crowley's left arm (or are at least visually in front of it). At least one of the tassels is fully off the sleeve.

With Gabriel seated, he ends up pocketed between Aziraphale and Crowley. The crossed arms could be a clue to either a previous draft's appearance swap session or Big Miracle. Crossed limbs or ligaments keep showing up as a special type of thing in Earthly Objects. I'll point them out as I notice them throughout the story, but the one example I'll note for now is Crowley has his legs crossed in The Door Trick.

In the first video frame of Aziraphale, Gabriel, and Crowley from the front after Gabriel sat down, Crowley's legs are already making a pocket with the bottom of the screen with the right leg visually behind the tartan blanket. One foot is presumably on the rug and at least the left heel isn't. Meanwhile, Aziraphale's legs aren't making a pocket yet but soon will.

A tassel lightly sweeps across Crowley's Belt Head.

That stair lamp mentioned earlier finally starts its role as Crowley's Overhead Light for the scene. It is a more dominant light compared to the lights that both Aziraphale and Gabriel get by their heads.

Because of everyone's position and movement, a pocket forms between Crowley's right side of his jacket, right arm, right hand, and Gabriel's left arm. Within that pocket is Gabriel's right hand, Aziraphale's left hand, and some of Gabriel's head.

A pocket forms between Aziraphale's right arm, right torso, right leg, and the chair's right side. Another pocket forms between Crowley's lower front right part of the jacket, right leg, some of the tartan blanket, and the left arm rest of the chair.

Gabriel's arms are then uncrossed with each hand taken accordingly by the angel and demon pocketing him.

When the camera pans down, there are a number of visible pockets formed between everyone's bodies and the screen. So, given that I'm then trying to look for anything more special than the others among them, I can find there is a particular video frame where Crowley has jacket-torso-to-sleeve pockets for each arm, his legs forming a pocket between themselves and the bottom of the screen, and another pocket between Gabriel's arm, Gabriel's left torso, and the bottom of the screen. On the other side, only Aziraphale's left arm is forming a pocket between it and Aziraphale's vest while Gabriel's arm and torso are not making a pocket like on the side with Crowley yet. Eventually, that latter part does change as the camera keeps panning down.

Compared to how Crowley manages his hand with digits visibly spreading or touching or placing themselves as he sees fit, Aziraphale opts for keeping his fingers curled and balled into little firsts at various points. He doesn't open his right hand to spread his fingers more until after Crowley says "Three."

An extra little light by Crowley's Overhead Light briefly appears during the pan as well.

By the end of the cut with the camera panning down, the pocketing is more even and parallel between Aziraphale and Crowley. Both have leg pockets with the bottom of the screen though Crowley's is wider. Both have an arm making a pocket with a side of their torso. Both have a pocket with a Gabriel arm, a leg, and bottom of the screen. Together, they are pocketing Gabriel. There is something special about the lights here. Both lamps on Aziraphale's desk are in this pocket.

Further up, are a set of three lights for each side, making for a total of 8 lights altogether, 4 on each side. The number 8 doesn't show up much when I play Earthly Objects, but I can name at least one other important instance when it does. Eight is the number of touches for The Sunglasses Trick. It's also a relevant number to Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels, largely associated with wizard magic. I'm still in the earlier books for my own reading, but I at least looked that up overall, for the number.

While Aziraphale himself has 3 lights above the side of his right head, Crowley has that earlier mentioned more dominant Overhead Light that is the lamp connected to the stairs. The camera moves, progressively cutting it from view but never fully. It was not fully in view during the miracle, but it is going to get fully in view for what happens afterward.

The stair lamp is not on screen with Crowley when he says, "I don't know. Probably." However, the next cut confirms he was still holding Gabriel's hand, and he lets go. He has self-made pockets involving his arms. This stair lamp Overhead Light is shown with Crowley in the same shot yet again. His hands look deliberately positioned.

An unusual thing Gabriel does after Crowley lets go of his hand is to make sure his index finger and middle finger touch each other while the ring finger and pinky finger remain separated and visually crossing over those other two fingers.. Gabriel doesn't do the same thing when Aziraphale lets go of his right hand. The cut ends with Gabriel's left thumb tip visibly on his right wrist when bringing his hands down.

The lighting is doing something weird specifically when Aziraphale is saying "Good news Jim. Nobody's going to notice you." A little circle appears over where the bookshop doors meet near the push plates. That's so odd.

In the cut with Gabriel's reaction to Aziraphale saying, "You're safe here," Crowley's right hand is visibly touching his pants, especially the thumb and index finger.

When Crowley says, "While we figure out what's actually going on," the Overhead Light is not visible but becomes partly visible.

As Gabriel first stands up from the chair, Crowley is maintaining his pocket with his legs and the screen; Aziraphale isn't. That more prominent Overhead Light by the stairs is still there for Crowley. In fact, it is now being fully displayed. Gabriel blocks it. The dialogue goes on about "friends" briefly. When Crowley emphasizes he is not Gabriel's friend, the Overhead Light is not on screen.

In the cut where Crowley prepares to stand on the chair, Gabriel's right index finger is part of a pocket between Crowley's left arm and torso. It covers Crowley's left thumb joint. The hand goes down and reveals the thumb joint soon enough. Crowley himself ends up making a pocket between himself and the chair, then another pocket between his legs and the tartan blanket. His right leg ends up visually crossed over his left.

Gabriel's movement is enough to temporarily fully back off that stair lamp visually and obscures it just a little bit before backing off yet again. That places this lamp in a visual pocket between Crowley and Gabriel. Gabriel is not visually blocking the lamp as Crowley goes up.

As Crowley gets up on the chair, the tie strands swing to be visually over the right arm. They went over the left arm earlier. Instead of a switch the way they often do, they actually cross each other as they swing themselves back towards Crowley's chest. He crossed his actual hands earlier on the word "humanity". The two humans he encountered in the preceding scene crossed paths to switch earlier. I don't know what all of these things mean exactly, but I am guessing they are an overall hint that power is building, channeling, and about to fire off thanks to these repeated types of actions.

Crowley himself has his left ear end up going above his own Overhead Light. The ear is a spot I've noticed worth comparing for overhead light things. Crowley's Belt Head is fully cast in shadow when he does this part, but it would be at least above the Belt Head otherwise.

With the camera looking down as Crowley looks up, he then ends up visually pocketed between Aziraphale and Gabriel below him though they are angled differently. Aziraphale is still on the camera's left of where Crowley is, but Gabriel is actually on the lower part of the screen instead of to the camera's right. Still, in a way, there was a switch.

Crowley jumps down, making that pocket with his legs to the screen again. The tie strands spread wide for a moment. One of the clasps remains partly visible by the end of the cut. His left hand temporarily hides, and when its blurred form is seen again, I believe the thumb and thumb joint are not visible. Just as before, that stairs lamp Overhead Light can be found, fully displayed, so he went under it after going over it. This time, the Belt Head does have enough lighting to be seen as there, for whatever that's worth.

...

Okay. Hopefully I haven't missed it given the number of times I watched this scene and parts of it while drafting this post, but Gabriel's name is never actually said in the scene. Aziraphale's name is not said the entire time either.

Of the 3 characters in the scene, only Crowley has his actual name used, and it is the first name said in the scene itself. Otherwise, Gabriel says "Jim," then "James," and Crowley says "Jim."

Basically, a lot of clues are suggesting that Crowley's role is a big deal here.

There are various questions:

"You want...or can we take that as said?"

"Together?"

"Where did you come back from?"

"Outside? Is it big? Can I see the outside?"

"What?"

"Do you think it worked?"

For numbers, there is a literal count to 3 for the miracle.

...

My tangential reading progress since the last Crowley S2 Hair Post is that I've finished Mort by Terry Pratchett, which is Book #4 in the Discworld series and The Sandman Vol. 1 by Neil Gaiman. I'm currently reading Sourcery by Terry Pratchett.

...

Story Commentary

Before Crowley enters, Aziraphale looks like he's been waiting, and he doesn't look as angry as he's going to act when insisting on the dance.

Aziraphale doesn't react to the sideburns, but he is in a position where he could try and check for them from where he sits, if necessary.

On the presented level, I don't care much for Aziraphale's attitude. Crowley does look genuinely apologetic. He's feeling guilty and worried about Aziraphale. I like to think he's even worried about Gabriel himself. Annoyed as I am with Aziraphale, the dance does have plenty of value in numerous other ways.

The clock near Aziraphale is showing the time a lot more clearly than it usually does. This story wants a time the scene takes place to be known, especially the dance. Nina's phone said 21:02 (presumably 9:02PM). The clock here shows 9:06PM as Aziraphale stands up to watch the dance. The clock does seem to switch to 8PM later, but it's blurry and not as clear.

Crowley doing the dance makes it quite clear that the plate of Eccles cakes shown so visibly untouched earlier has completely disappeared this episode. That was shown earlier when he entered, so the story is taking the time to repeat itself. The characters never acknowledge that disappearance happened. This part is a continued clue about the existence of the Earthly Objects game, and that the draft of the story being viewed by the audience has been edited.

Crowley almost certainly got some pockets stuff done while he was doing the dance with the leg movement, crossing them over in different ways twice, and those tie strands dangling so low.

Plus, those of us in the audience who appreciate what a good physical actor David Tennant is certainly got a treat.

The different cuts between the dance don't quite match the positions when one cut ends and another cut starts. While that could be a continuity issue, it could also just be how Crowley moves as he likes since he's a demon. The curtain does seem to disappear as Crowley stands to his full height. It's a challenge to guess if you could have seen it from that angle.

Speaking of dancing, in season 1, God put some effort into telling us angels don't dance, except Aziraphale but only with one specific dance, the gavotte. These apology dances Aziraphale says he had to do were presumably not the gavotte, given the years listed and context they would have happened.

Another thing the present day apology dance does is something I mentioned in my first post about Crowley and Muriel. The only time I can find that cardboard box possibly in Crowley's line of sight during the scene is during the apology dance. So, it could be a clue to Crowley to know where the box is without focusing on the cardboard box in the scene itself.

With the sunglasses touch done and the dance done, Crowley approaches the desk. The red on the back of the collar of his jacket can be seen.

When Crowley says "humanity," he crosses his actual hands over each other.

When Crowley and Aziraphale each take one of Gabriel's hands, he looks up over to Crowley first thoughtfully and as if he's following along with what is happening. Then he looks over to Aziraphale and looks confused.

When Crowley says "No traces of anything miraculous left behind," the camera work ensures we can see the traces literally on Crowley himself. His red hair is more vibrant and saturated because of the lightning power he just recalled. He has longest-length sideburns with the lighting preferring his left side, as evidenced by the left sideburn being lighter in hair. He has a lightning imprint on his forehead. His more saturated streak is forking outward. He did his touch for The Sunglasses Trick with the left hand. It's honestly really funny as someone playing the games because, again, the "traces" are literally all over him and up close too. He's like the supernatural equivalent of a lightning rod here. Reminder that there is an almost full moon outside. At night. After 9PM if the clock hadn't possibly switched.

What's so special about 9? Well, I've played a lot of Persona 4 Golden in my time, and that game mentions some stuff about the angel orders. Perhaps it said "nine orders" somewhere in there. Given that, my instincts said I should check for how many orders of angels there are, and yeah, some sources say 9. Ha! Oh, and "nine circles of Hell" was mentioned in season 1. The number 9 is also the result of 3 times 3. This story certainly likes certain numbers certain ways.

Remember how I mentioned the minute time looked to be 6 when he danced? That number is certainly associated with Crowley himself. He ordered six shots of espresso. Nina has reminded us of that twice this episode already. He's going to have 6 Threshold Tricks total by the end of the season.

When the camera panned down, besides all the pockets stuff I talked about, two other things I think are important happened. Crowley's left foot took a step back. Aziraphale did not step back. The camera temporarily obscured Crowley's left arm. That doesn't happen for Aziraphale either. So, the framing altogether is showing there is a difference between these two as this "little" miracle is happening.

Saraqael could be messing with things from up in Heaven since they are who the story shows as looking over Earth after the alarms go off.

Crowley is notably firm when he says, "I am not your friend" to Gabriel. As I've said before, I think they were friends, and that contributes to how Crowley feels and reacts to the situation.

Okay, it's time to consider those longest-length sideburns with that vibrant red hair.

As noted in my main sideburns post, the longest-length sideburns seem to be the bookshop's way of marking rank for Crowley among angels.

Is he all the way up to Supreme Archangel with Gabriel being absent due to amnesia? I like the idea a lot. The main thing that makes me hesitate is the specific wording change in episode 6. Gabriel refers to himself as the only First-Order Archangel in the Universe (with a capital "U"!). The camera pans to Crowley.

Gabriel didn't say "Supreme"; he said "First-Order".

For some reason, the story thought it important enough to make that distinction.

Since I myself am very interested in this "First-Order" business because of other clues that Crowley choosing to be "first" with the Heaven elevator matters, I'm not committed to the idea Crowley's the acting "Supreme" Archangel, as much as I want that to be the case. I'll run with it if season 3 glosses over the matter and leaves me to personal interpretation. He could be the only First-Order Archangel in the Universe instead.

Once Crowley is finished with his apology dance, he ends up directing the action on what to actually do about Gabriel. He takes in Aziraphale's suggestion but is otherwise in charge. Both Aziraphale and Gabriel listen to him.

Gabriel makes a childish, pouting face at being told to not go outside, but he still doesn't argue and listens to Crowley. Aziraphale gets excited about working together, makes his suggestion, and otherwise follows along with the directions given.

If it's not rank, and the characters themselves just coincidentally behave this way, then the sideburns seem to be a general indicator of supernatural essence that Crowley himself might be able to draw power from, besides his own.

Speaking of drawing power, wow, drafting this post was very, very interesting because of that Overhead Light from the lamp by the stairs. With the other overhead lights found earlier, such things were enough for me to just go re-examine so many other things in the story. I went and re-examined other touches in The Sunglasses Trick.

For one of those touches, I can at least see some trickery looks to be giving the Belt Head an Overhead Light. For the others, they might not actually be getting the overhead lights due to the movement or lacking lights that happen within the scenes.

There is something is very specifically happening with Triple Part 1 and Triple Part 2 here in episode 1 at night. These touches are part of a switch that happens later since the Triple switches to become a Single in episode 6.

Then I started considering night-time scenes overall, which helped point out that both the Edinburgh and 1941 minisodes take place entirely at night. The Edinburgh minisode seems to have a full moon, then a half moon to signify a likely continuity issue. When the full moon is shown, that's when it could be a potential overhead light for Crowley. He's not doing any special miracles or Threshold Tricks, but there's still that moon ensured to be shown above and to the left of his head.

So, being a demon, Crowley has something special happening with overhead lights and night in episode 1.

I really do think whatever is happening with these things, especially the stair lamp, is general clue about Crowley being powerful and having a bigger role to play in the miracle than what it might look like on the surface.

It hints that what sets off the alarms in Heaven isn't the miracle we see Crowley perform with Aziraphale. It's going over that Overhead Light from the lamp on the stairs. It's the standing on the chair that Gabriel himself was sitting in. It's the pocketing and switching with Gabriel. It could be the touch on the golden fabric of the miracle or reality or whatever it is that he touched. He created a pocket with his right index finger, middle finger, and thumb after using said hand for the touch. He used his mouth because he licked his finger before that supernatural touch. Crowley does things with his mouth during the ball invitations in episode 5. It's the jump down to finish it off.

So, there might be some sort of silly, delayed trigger involved with an elaborate set up from a previous draft of the story that wanted the lightning power to do what it did when it did and Crowley to do what he did throughout the episode.

These characters might have tricked themselves into setting those alarms off on purpose, is what I'm saying.

...

The fly that supposedly has so much Gabriel essence in it is never heard nor seen during this particular scene. In fact, Crowley won't see the fly until episode 3.

...

The way this scene is structured sets up a good contrast to the Final Fifteen to act as a clue to finding the Earthly Objects game. Both Crowley and Aziraphale make a conscious effort to touch Earthly Objects as they start talking to each other in the bookshop. It's like their code between each other. They will not make this effort in the Final Fifteen when they are both in the bookshop. Things are going to reverse where they both avoid earthly object touches, sticking to mainly touches on their own bodies, apparel, and each other. They will both be in a standing position the entire time in the bookshop.

...

We're finally done going over episode 1!

...

That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.

...

Main post:

The Sideburns Scheme

...

Past version of this post:

Post #16 (hiding Gabriel)

#crowley #good omens 2 #good omens #good omens s2 #david tennant #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens crowley #crowley good omens #crowley s2 hair project #crowley sideburns

23 notes · View notes