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ineffable-romantics · 9 months

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Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

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Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

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jakei95 · 9 months

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[Post in English] Something Nyx and I want to publicly address, regarding the recent allegations in the Glitchtale Crew's Discord Server and it's moderators. I really apologize for the upcoming wall of text. These are our Twitter threads I have pasted them here, in case you don't have access to said platform. I have also added some additional notes to provide more context. All details under the line:

NyxTheShield: (Transcription from his official twitter thread) I read some mean comments lately and I just wanna be super clear: I havent been related to Glitchtale since at least 2022. I never considered myself part of the community and went through some much shit while doing stuff for it that my mental health was completely destroyed.

For people who thought I was an admin of the server, that was just in paper. I was constantly de-admin'd, demodded and kicked from the server through the years for simple stuff like asking the rest of the mod team to not say slurs or standing up against the Midnight Crew. I personally left the server for a long while because I really did not want to be around some of the people there. All of this happened years ago (from 2016~ to around 2020). On the early years, my full income came from Youtube/Glitchtale. I was a broke college student and my economic stability depended on it. Despite this, and making literally hundred of tracks and hours of music for the series, most of the income came from my own ad revenue. I was paid less than 2000 USD for all of the work. Essentially, I was paid in exposure.

This wouldn't have been an issue for me if at least I got to keep my artistic vision with the series. That didn't hold true for long.

From the second season and onwards, and in multiple instances, I would score the entire OST for the episode, watch the episode when it released, and then find out a completely new section of the episode (usually a battle scene) with music from somebody else This was completely demotivating to me because I wasn't being paid, the tracks would not fit the rest of the OST at all, and most of the income I made from the battle scenes. I had to work for weeks trying to compose music for glorified powerpoint presentations (Basically everything that's not a battle scene on the series was just still frames of characters barely moving) and do all the heavy lifting and I wasn't even let known about the guest tracks.

This added to the feeling of having absolutely no power within the community. I don't know if this was intentional or not (I don't wanna presume malice), but all of these things together contributed to me distancing myself from the community.

Honestly, there is A LOT more shit that went down these early years that are extremely traumatic to me that I would prefer to not talk about unless completely necessary, but I feel this is a good amount of context for what I wanna talk about next.

As you might be aware, extremely serious (and true) allegations were made against Camila and his partner, Veir, which was accused of grooming minors from 2015 to 2021 There are really good videos out there explaining the entire timeline of what transpired, but I specifically wanna talk about 2020.

(Jakei's note: Links to said videos are here: [1] [2] [3])

In that year, a public document was made by my head mod CrystalFlame alongside 2 other mods in the GT server, that exposed Veir and their actions. This document went mostly unnoticed. Even more, Crystal went through a lot of abuse for coming forward about their abuse and was almost ostracized from the UT AU community because of this.

Because of this, I was asked directly by one of the victims (and also representing the other victims) to please not speak up (Citing that they just wanted to move on and didn't want to involve themselves with more problems and expose themselves)

All the info was kept very vague from me, including the people who were involved, the extent of the stuff that went down, etc But I knew enough to know it was serious. I followed their request and didn't speak up publicly about this, but I banned Veir from my server, warned all of my mods and people close to me in those circles about Veir, and constantly tried to get Camila to please adress the situation. Despite this, she did not listen and we all know how stuff went down later in 2022, where the allegations came back again with full force. This time around I wasnt asked to stay silent so I spread the word around and confronted the entire mod team. I was shortly banned after that.

I needed to address this because this thing has been eating me alive for years. I was intentionally kept in the dark about a lot of context and nuance that would have completely changed my mind about speaking up or not about what happened in 2020.

Everything is easier in retrospective, and with the knowledge I now have about the situation I know for a fact that I would have spoken up about all that happened. But being asked directly to not speak up by the victims was something that goes against what I am Sorry for the long rant, but I really needed to get this off my chest. I am tired of having to deal with this kind of stuff. As a content creator/public figure I am trying my hardest to keep the communities I am active in as safe as possible.

I feel I could have done more for the Glitchtale community regarding the grooming situation, but all of the years of abuse that I endured really fucked up my judgement. I am not very good at dealing with people and I always trust the people close to help me for this kind of stuff

Sadly, in this case, those same people who were close to me were also the victims, so they couldnt have known or had a way to help me out, I should have helped them instead. Most if not all of what was described in this thread is backed up by screenshots, chat logs, and direct testimony from the people who were involved during this time.

I don't want to direct hate to anyone or start a witchhunt, I am doing this purely to decompress a bit and try to vent some of the trauma I experienced all these years.

============================================

Jakei: (Transcription from my official twitter thread) I would also like to share my experiences about my relationship with the Glitchtale Creator, Camila Cuevas. Publicly, we appeared as close friends, but in reality, that friendship was based on bullying and mistreatment, and this affected my mental health deeply.

Years have passed, and the memories still cause me pain. I decided to remain silent, but after the revelations of grooming cases in her community, I realized I wasn’t being too sensitive. The time has come to speak up about my experiences.

During the early years of Underverse, I was dealing with a serious depressive episode. Simultaneous internal and external pressures as an independent artist amplified my mental strain. Meeting Camila felt like finding a genuine friend who shared my passion for the fandom and understood the struggles of being a content creator amidst toxicity. At my lowest, I became compliant to doing things that I didn’t want to, just to keep people around me happy. For Camila, this meant allowing her to belittle my work and make me the butt of her jokes.

Only our veteran followers may remember the 'roasting games' between us on Tumblr (consisting of mutual insults), a spectacle where she'd always win. However, it was a game she privately forced me to "play" and I ended up accepting, despite the discomfort it caused me. These 'games' would give her a cool and strong image in the fandom while painting me as the dumb, 'cringe-worthy' friend. In essence, I became her personal punching bag, unknowingly reinforcing his reputation.

Camila's favorite term to demean my series 'Underverse' was “Cancerverse”. It felt like a constant contest where she'd always position herself as the superior writer and animator simply because my story and animation techniques didn't fit her standards. Years of being subjected to her ridicule left my self-esteem in ruins. I was okay with the negative feedback by some fans, but when my 'friend' publicly disrespected my art, it made me question my abilities as an artist.

I can't deny there were times when she gave me advice to deal with hate or hurtful comments. However, her damaging comments and treatment outweighed those moments of support.

My depressive state worsened around July 2017, where I had accepted people pushing me to do things I wasn’t comfortable with, while being part of Camila's demeaning games, just to appease her ego. I was introduced to Nyx during this time, he offered his music for my series, and eventually we started dating. We met in person in Chile, where I also met Camila. I hoped our friendship would strengthen but everything felt the same. Before I moved to Chile with Nyx, Camila reached out to me in dms, attempting to turn me against him because he opposed the use of slurs in the GT server. She claimed Nyx was being 'brainwashed' by his American friends belonging to the black and LGBTQ+ communities. She made fun of my dating choices, suggesting I was entering a toxic relationship, while showing off her relationship with her then-boyfriend (later exposed as a pedophile). She even quoted her own mother assuring me that Nyx would 'get back to normal', and if it didn’t happen, she would let me live in her house, almost like if she was telling me that Nyx would hurt me or make me feel miserable.

It only took Nyx 3 months to realize that the GT server was going in the wrong way. I initially felt compelled to defend Camila due to my inferiority complex, but soon realized Nyx was right. (Jakei's note: Not only Nyx was right, a lot of people that called her out over the years were right, yet they were not listened to at the time)

Even then, I found it difficult to distance myself from Camila due to the false sense of obligation I felt towards her. My fear of her making fun of my work kept me from interacting with others in the short period of time I stayed in her Discord server. I was afraid that she and her echo chamber would talk behind my back, something that I found out was happening in private chats until recent years.

Rebuilding my self-esteem wasn't an easy task. I began noticing the red flags – Camila's lack of respect not only for me but Nyx also, the emotional manipulation Nyx was suffering from Veir (something he used to do all the time with his other victims), her attempts to 'roast' me in front of her family and fans in the Underverse/Glitchtale meetings, and her constant criticism of my artstyle not being compatible to hers in the few collabs we made.

All these 'small' instances, dismissed as insignificant by many, caused me immense pain while treating my depression. I felt it was too late to express how I felt, as I feared being labeled as attention-seeking or oversensitive by her and her fanbase. Ironically, the moment she talked about her traumas after being bullied in the past, her feelings were the only ones that mattered any time she was involved in a problematic situation in the fandom and deserved to be the only to get pats in the back.

I never expected a sincere apology, as I was convinced she didn't remember or didn't care about the hurt she caused. I tried to maintain a facade of good terms with her, both publicly and privately. Eventually, I distanced myself from her, unfriending her and banning her from my own server even if she didn't interact there. I started focusing on my own work and the people who appreciated it. Despite this, the aftermath of the bullying continued to affect me.

Everything fell into place when the grooming accusations against her former boyfriend and server mods came to light. It was a shocking revelation, but it validated all my doubts and fears about her. The purpose of sharing my experiences is not to stir up drama, but to address the concerns of those worried about my association with Camila. I want to make it clear that I will never tolerate such behavior. Although the things I did for her in the past cannot be erased, I hope Camila at least deletes the animation remake I did for her and all the collabs that boosted her views for free, though I'm not optimistic about it happening.

As I've matured, my hope is that she and her crew learn from their mistakes, start behaving like adults, and take responsibility for their actions in their future projects and with their new followers. But I'm skeptical about any real change, especially if their server continues to exist. The best course of action for me was to cut all ties with Camila and Glitchtale.

NyxTheShield (now my husband) and I have endured too much from our treatment by Camila. We no longer want to be associated with her or Glitchtale. It's a chapter of our lives that we wish to close. It's time for us to focus on recovering our mental health, as remaining silent is only prolonging our pain. We have been working to improve our mental and physical health over the past few years and this is a crucial part of our healing process.

#jakei says something #english

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lovelybluebirdie · 4 months

Text

The pale chef

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion attempts to cook for you, but things don’t go as planned.

Word Count: 1,7k

A/N: I got the idea that Astarion naturally struggles with preparing food, so I had to write some fluff about it! Hope you enjoy :)

[ AO3 ]

Astarion stirred the pot in concentration, holding a wooden spoon in his hand and wondering what exactly he was doing here.

This whole endeavour resulted from your constant need to be nice to him, he thought with a sigh – apparently it made him want to be nice as well.

It started the other day when you mentioned how you would kill for a mushroom soup. At first he thought nothing of it, but for some reason the idea stuck to his head, so Astarion decided to roam the forest and gather some mushrooms. Unfortunately it turned out rather quickly that he lacked essential knowledge on the matter, so he had to consult Gale of all people.

Putting his pride aside, he asked through gritted teeth which ones were edible and which to avoid, since he had no desire to poison you by accident. Due to Gale being Gale, the wizard not only lectured him on different kinds of fungi, he had also given a detailed instruction on the soup’s recipe.

Astarion chuckled at the absurdity of the scene. He had never thought that one day he'd voluntarily prepare food for another person – and yet he found himself bending over the hearth and mixing different ingredients, hoping for the best.

He even wore an apron borrowed from said wizard, therefore he was more than glad that his companions had left for a supply run, while you were waiting in your shared tent so he could attempt this little surprise in solitude.

Gale's voice echoed in his mind: Chop the mushrooms, add them to the broth, stir until thickened, season with salt and pepper and sprinkle a few herbs on top – that’s it! Absolutely foolproof, even for someone who prefers to appease their hunger solely with blood.

The mushrooms had been the easiest part. His dexterous fingers cut them into perfectly bite-sized pieces, but Astarion bloody forgot how long the meal should rest on the fire.

Suddenly a burning smell lingered in the air, and he sensed in horror that the soup was boiling over.

“Fuck!” He grabbed the pot with haste and put it away from the heat.

Well, he thought as he gazed at the bubbling mass, that probably meant it was done.

With utmost care not to spill more of his precious loot, he grabbed a ladle and filled a large portion for you. If he already took the effort for such a novelty, you should at least get your belly full.

Astarion slipped out of the apron and made his way back to you. He assumed you were already growing impatient, as this entire affair had consumed far more time than he had anticipated.

“Hello, darling,” he purred when entering your tent, skilfully balancing the bowl in his hand.

“Finally! I thought you'd kept me waiting all night – wait, what's that?” You put the book you were reading aside and eyed the dish in his hands.

“I’m not quite sure myself, but according to Gale's recipe it should resemble a mushroom soup.”

Your eyes lit up. “Hold on – you prepared this for me? You know that’s my favourite, right?”

“I suppose I do.” Astarion offered you the soup with a coy smile. “Although you should remember that I’m not particularly versed in the culinary arts, so it might be best to treat this with caution.”

You took the bowl from his slender fingers. “Hah, let me be the judge of that! Besides, it was about damn time you returned the favour of feeding me for once, hm?”

“I couldn’t try it myself for obvious reasons, but I doubt that this could compete with your delicious blood,” Astarion replied jokingly and sat next to you, curiously watching as you sniffed the soup.

“Smells not bad…” you affirmed while blowing on the steaming broth resting on your spoon. “Now comes the delicate part – the taste test.”

The spoon disappeared in your mouth, and suddenly your face twisted into a grimace. You swallowed hard, a cough forcing its way through your pressed lips.

Astarion couldn’t help but snort over your clumsy attempt to keep the soup inside. “So – I sense I failed you miserably?”

“What? No – I mean, it’s not… terrible,” you stuttered. “It’s… Well – did you let it burn by chance?”

“Maybe.” He dragged out the syllables dramatically and shrugged. “Be honest, my dead heart surely can take it – shall we save this mess for Scratch and the owlbear?”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed with widened eyes. “I’m not hesitant to share, but not something you specially made for me. Also, some things tend to get better once you get used to the flavour, you know.”

Before Astarion could intervene, you put another spoon to your mouth and eagerly gulped it down, followed by a second and a third.

“There’s certainly room for improvement,” you eventually muttered with full cheeks, “but it’s not that bad.”

“I’m afraid you’re a poor liar, my love.” Astarion gently grasped your wrist to prevent you from taking another mouthful. “So please let me stop you right there, before you seriously upset your gut. I’m sure we can get you something more nutritious for the evening.” Then he took the spoon from your hand and put the bowl aside.

“If you insist,” you said with fondness in your eyes while wiping soup from the corner of your mouth. “But honestly – thank you, Astarion. This was… unexpectedly sweet.”

Heat rose to his ears as he rested his hand on your stomach, starting to draw circles. “Well, let's just hope my failed culinary attempt won't kill you tonight.”

“I guess in that case Lae’zel would avenge me, so you’d better start preparing yourself.”

“Mh… You think she’d stake me?” Astarion questioned and continued to caress your belly.

“Who knows what her creativity will lead to in the end. Knowing Lae’zel, she’d probably come up with something worse,” you pondered while tapping your chin. “But I guess you wouldn't let your preferred blood supply die that easily after all, would you?”

“Oh, don't sell yourself so short,” Astarion countered in feigned bewilderment. “You know that you mean way more to me than that.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, you also keep me warm at night, sparing me the coin for a thicker blanket. You know how expensive those things can get.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his response. “And if you had to give a genuine answer this time?”

Astarion clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I thought my sentiments were rather obvious by now.”

“And yet I don't seem to tire of hearing your appreciation for me,” you teased.

“Getting greedy now, aren’t we? Fine, you're ... quite decent. Despite your constant need to do something heroic, of course.”

You poked his shoulder and turned away with an exaggerated pout.

Astarion chuckled, before he cleared his throat. “Alright – perhaps you’re more than that.”

He drew you in his arms and breathed against your cheek. “One might also say you're the first person I truly came to care about. Deeply.”

Your lips brushed over his contours, searching for his own until you kissed him tenderly. “See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Astarion rested a peck on your forehead and embraced you closer, a pleasant flutter spreading in his chest.

You were right, he thought as his lips curled into an affectionate smile – with you, everything seemed surprisingly easy these days.

The next morning Astarion woke to a rumbling. He opened his eyes and could only make out your silhouette as you hastily rushed outside, leaving the flap of your tent wide open.

“Love, are you alright?” he asked in concern and immediately got up to follow you.

“Don't worry, I’m fine,” you huffed under your breath.

Astarion knelt beside you in the grass and frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I said… it’s alright…” You gagged between your words. “But perhaps the soup… Ugh–”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Astarion said softly, when he noticed that you were still wearing his shirt from the other night. “And for the love of the gods – please be careful not to stain my clothes.”

“That's what you’re most concerned about right now?”

“No, of course not! But – That’s my favourite,” Astarion mumbled while he reached for your hair, smoothing it back over your shoulders.

“FANGS, what did you do to her?!” Karlach’s voice erupted like a thunderstorm from the other side of the camp as she spotted the two of you.

“Nothing – I only prepared some soup for her last night!”

“Shadowheart! Hurry up, we need you – Astarion poisoned our leader!” Karlach was already marching in the cleric's direction.

“What – no!” You both spoke almost simultaneously, causing you to laugh.

“I seem to have a sensible stomach,” you managed to add before retching again.

Astarion turned serious as he rested his hand on your back. “I'm terribly sorry, my love. That wasn’t meant to happen at all.”

You offered a weak smirk. “I know, and I appreciate the thought. Besides, that means your next dish can only improve.”

Astarion gazed at you in disbelief. “You’d consider letting me cook again after this entire debacle? Those mushrooms must have gone to your beautiful head.”

“Well, on second thought–” You couldn't finish your sentence as your stomach’s content finally emptied onto the grass.

Astarion felt a twist at his ribcage seeing you like this. “We’d better make sure I haven’t actually poisoned you, shall we? – SHADOWHEART! Get yourself over here – now!”

“I'M ON MY WAY!” Shadowheart shouted from afar.

“I think the worst is already over–” you began to explain, when another voice cut you off.

“Tsk’va! What is going on?” Lae’zel poked her head from her tent, obviously annoyed by the sudden tumult.

“Please, don’t let her stake me,” Astarion whispered and continued to stroke your back.

“Be glad that I love you, otherwise I’d probably let her get away with it this time,” you replied mischievously.

Astarion’s chest filled with warmth as he grasped for your hand. “My sweet, I truly am.” Then he bowed his head to place a kiss on your hair. “And I love you too. So much in fact, that I might consider forgiving you for ruining my shirt.”

You squeezed his hand and grinned. “Prick.”

Astarion returned your grin before his expression turned soft. “But honestly, I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

Next time he would surprise you with something less nauseating, he thought as his fingers entwined with yours – a safe choice like bringing another stray to your camp, or a nice perfume perhaps.

Masterlist

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gojos-thot-patrol · 6 months

Text

And with this, it all comes to an end...

Now Loading: Kinktober Season Finale

Synopsis: It was supposed to be a fun little joke, a gag you and your friends indulged at your annual Halloween Party. Of course it wasn't going to work, no way a "ritual" you found on WikiHow of all places was really going to summon an Incubus. But, if that was the case, then who was the almost angelic looking man standing in your room?

Kinks: Spectrophilia, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Mirror Sex, and Dacryphilia

You laughed at your friend's silly joke as you readjusted your witch hat and took a sip of your drink. Halloween night- the spookiest time of the year, and you were spending it with five of your closest friends. You couldn’t think of another place in the entire world you would rather be than right there on that couch, drinking suspiciously vibrant green cocktails and watching trashy B-grade horror flicks.

That was until the host's phone went off. Her excited squeal told her everything you needed to know.

“Ew, Is that Grease?” You asked, earning you an eye roll from the hostess and a giggle from the rest of the group.

“Why do you insist on calling Toji that?” She asked as she typed away a response.

“Cause he looks greasy.” You reminded her. She scoffed at you and shook her head.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you can’t get laid.” She rebuffed.

“You’ve resorted to personal attacks, this means I automatically win!” You celebrated, sticking your tongue out at her.

“Wait, you still can’t get any?” One of your other friends asked, inserting themselves into the conversation, “Why not? You’re hot.” You just shrugged at their question.

“I haven’t found anyone worth my time.” you simply stated.

“She’s picky.” The host said. As she did, you saw a spark of an idea light up her eyes, and she more aggressively typed on her phone.

“Wait, weren’t you talking to that Zenin guy?” Another friend entered the ring, “What happened to him?” He asked.

“You mean Naoya? He dropped on the third date that he didn’t believe in the female orgasm. I wasn’t going to waste any more of my time with that.” You sighed, mostly out of pity for whatever woman he did trick into his bed, and sipped your cocktail.

“What if you fucked a demon?” The host asked, looking at you with frantically excited eyes.

“Congratulations! That’s officially the fourth weirdest sex question I’ve ever been asked.” You clapped for your friend.

“Only the fourth? What have you?- Not the point,” She shook her head and showed you the article she had pulled up on her phone. The Wikihow article, to be specific. You laughed as you read the title HOW TO SUMMON AN INCUBUS BOYFRIEND.

“Well shit, it’s worth a try,” You joked as you handed back the phone.

“Are you serious?” She asked, grinning like a mad man, “Because I have the things to perform the ritual, and I can’t think of a better way to spend Halloween night than getting you some demonic dick.” She winked. You chuckled as you thought about the ridiculous nature of mixing the metaphysical with cyberspace. Eh, fuck it, what was the worst that could happen? You finished off your drink and nodded.

“Fuck it, let’s summon the devil!”

“Well, an incubus not the devil-” Your friend corrected, “But yeah!”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

The room was dark. You had just finished anointing the ceremonial candles- which definitely wasn’t just a pretentious way to say the six of you put essential oils on half used yankee candles. It was way more legit than that! You guys like…added intentions or whatever it was the article said to do. You all placed them on the reverse pentagram pattern on the ground, and you specifically lit them in a clockwise order, starting from the bottom) most point…Wait. Wait, no you definitely started from the upper right point. Oops?

Maybe you all shouldn’t have been doing this drunk. But, no one noticed! So you continued to spend more energy giving the bit far more commitment than it ever warranted. You moved to the hostess. “The scene is set Sister,” you fought giggles, “How shall we proceed?”

“Thank you my companion of darkness. I shall consult the sacred tomes.” She said pulling out her phone with a flourish and pulling back up the- and I can not stress this enough- WikiHow article, on how to summon a Sex. Demon. What a wild Halloween.

“It says we all need to do now is put the sacrifice in the center of the inverted star.” Your friend said. The room fell quiet for a second. As jokey as this had all been up until this point, the use of the word “sacrifice” had shifted the air to something much colder. More serious. You felt about a thousand sets of eyes on you, but you knew in reality it was only five sets. Five sets of burning, nervous eyes.

“Ugh, okay fine!” You groaned, dramatically throwing your head back to break the tension, “I’ll go get in the star!” You said with a playful smirk as you positioned yourself in the center of the pentagram. “Besides, who doesn’t want a Sexy demon boyfriend? I’ll gladly get sacrificed for that.” You joked.

“Excellent!” The hostess said with an excited clap of her hands. You watched as your friends went to their places, one for each point of the star. “Okay, I’m gonna send you guys the like, script I guess? So you guys know what we have to say.” She said as she sent the text to the group chat. You watched as everyone checked their phones.

“Is that…Latin?” one of your friends questioned.

“I think?” The hostess asked more than said.

“What does it mean?” A different friend inquired.

“I don’t know, demons come fuck me? How should I know what it means?” The hostess snapped.

“Shit- sorry I asked.” Your friend mumbled, and you felt kinda bad for them.

“Can we get on with this? I’m getting tired.” You said. It wasn’t a lie. You had felt your energy slowly sleep out of you from the moment your friends took their spots on the star, and a nap was really starting to sound phenomenal about now.

“Right, sorry babes.” The hostess said sympathetically, reaching out her arms. All of the friends complied, reaching out with their entire wingspans but still only managing to touch fingertips. It was enough though, the pentagram was transformed into a pentacle, and suddenly, you felt woozy.

“Gojo est optimus,” The all chanted in unison, low and serious. “Gojo tam terribilis est, vis eum tecum dormire.” Your ears started ringing, loud and hateful. “Colendum est Satoru Gojo!” As the last syllables fell from their lips, the flames of the used overpriced candles erupted into a brilliant indigo inferno with a molting cerulean core. The wall of fire surrounded you and warmed your body to the point of overheating. You stumbled to keep your balance. The air suddenly felt like thick oil, and your head felt like it was filled with cotton.

As quickly as the flames exploded, they vanished, leaving you to hyperventilate in the darkness while your friends all tried to process what just happened. Suddenly, a laugh split through the air and your skull.

“That's crazy!” one of your friends laughed, “I didn’t know essential oils reacted to fire like that!” He said. Slowly, the rest of you all joined him in his laugh, small nervous giggles finding the will to become genuine. Yeah, that made sense. The oils must have had..something in them to make them do that. Yeah.

You tried to ignore the feeling of someone grabbing your ass.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You didn’t stay at the party much longer after that. You told all of your friends you were tired, which, was true. You didn’t tell them that you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though. Or that every once in a while you felt like you were being touched. A thumb rubbing your thigh, or a kiss ghosted over your neck. You kept that part to yourself.

You knew you were probably just over thinking the whole ritual thing. The human brain was a powerful lump of electricity, and the placebo effect was undeniable. You probably just tricked yourself into feeling these things cause you fake summoned a fake demon. Yeah, that made sense.

As you walked into your apartment door, you felt it again. A firm hand grabbing the fat of your ass. In the safety of your own home, you gave into your initial reaction of swatting the invisible pervert away. “Quit it.” You growled at the wind.

You could have sworn you heard someone respond. “Tch.”

No, no you didn't hear that. You can’t be feeling phantom touches and be hearing things, you had to pick a lane for your crazy. You rolled your eyes at how silly you were being as you dragged yourself into the bathroom. All you wanted was a shower and to get to bed. Tonight had been surprisingly taxing. As you undressed, you couldn’t stop feeling overly self conscious of your body. As if a pair of eyes were burning into your very soul, seeing you both inside and out and leaving you with no secrets left. Like someone was looking inside your heart to see your desires, your hopes and dreams. You hurried into the tub.

The warm shower cascaded over your cold body, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. You sighed as the cleansing waters washed away your sins from the night, and finally put your mind at ease. For all of about two seconds. Then your imagination started to wander. What chemical was in those essential oils to make them turn such a deep blue? Was such a color even possible for fire? It was so dark. You closed your eyes as you followed your train of thought. What did all that Latin mean? And how did your friends, who had never spoken the language a day in their life mind you, nail the pronunciation and reading of it on the first try? Without so much as a practice read or example no less.

"You think so much. It's kinda cute." That voice was definitely in your mind- but it wasn't your own. Your eyes suddenly shot open as you jerked your head around the bathroom, trying to see who could have said that- despite knowing you would find no one. Steam was all that greeted you. Jesus fuck, what was in those drinks to be making you feel this way? You quickly finished your shower and got out.

You felt it again before you could grab your towel. Two hands, playing with your chest. You almost screamed, frustration mounting in yourself. Then you caught a glimpse of the mirror. Temporarily, you didn’t feel the hands on you anymore. You didn’t feel anything as your brain tried to process the impossibility of what it was seeing. And then you felt everything.

Visible through the slight fog in the mirror, and only the mirror, were two hands- large and pale, long nails (claws?) tipped in pink and black- groping your breasts. You watched in awe and horror as the two hands kneaded the flesh of your chest, rolling their (it's?) thumbs over your hardening nipples. You watched as one of the disembodied appendages left your breast and moved lower. Moved to touch you in a place you hadn't been touched yet tonight. The hand vanished from the view of the glass, and seconds later you felt a spark of pleasure as (what you assumed to be) a finger flicked your clit.

Suddenly, your brain worked again, and you screamed as you tumbled away from the mirror, nearly tumbling over and back into the bathtub in your panic. You caught yourself just in time though, breathing heavy as you leaned against the wall of your shower. You heard that fucking voice again, this time it had the audacity to laugh.

"Such a tease." It mused. You needed to get out of here. You screamed as you ran out of the bathroom, and down the short hall to your bedroom. You crashed into the room, unsure why you ran here other than the fact that you always felt safe in this space. You tried to calm yourself but found it impossible. You went to sit on your bed, but- you stopped in your tracks as you caught a glimpse of the full length mirror facing your mattress. You blinked as you stared at it, your confusion being replaced only by more bodily feelings as you watched the impossible scene unfold in the glass.

You watched as a figure pushed his hips into yours, fucking you into your mattress. Your fucked out face contorting in pleasure as you moaned out helplessly, eyes glazing over in a daze. The figure wrapped his large hand around your throat, and you couldn’t help but notice the way the pink and black claws dug into your skin.

And you felt all of it. You could feel the shadow on top of you, feel its hand tighten around your throat. And you felt him in between your legs, heavy and thick, dragging out of your heat at an agonizing pace. You felt every deliberate thrust into the sweet spot that laid inside you, making you feel delirious with pleasure. Mirror you moaned a name you didn’t quite catch and clawed the shadows biceps. You felt his skin under your nails as another wave of arousal overtook you.

Your knees felt weak with desire and you found it suddenly hard to stand. You made eye contact with yourself in the glass, and stumbled backwards as your knees suddenly gave out. You didn’t hit the ground, though, a part of you wished you did. Instead, you landed against a wall of muscle. Strong arms encircled you, and you felt a low chuckle reverberate from the chest you were braced against.

“You’re clumsy, aren’t you Honey?” Yep, that was definitely the voice you heard in the bathroom. You scrambled away from the arms in a sudden burst of energy, and spun around to finally get a good look at the entity that had been haunting you all night.

He was tall, 7 feet at least, with ghost white hair and glowing- unnaturally vibrant- sapphire eyes. He was a pale man, clad in leather pants and corset adorned with pink chains. Giant bat wings framed him, and two black devil tails- tipped with sharp pink hearts- flicked excitedly behind him. He flashed a smirk, showing off the long fangs he hid behind perfectly pink lips.

“Like what you feel, Sweetheart?” He asked, musical voice dripping with smug condescension.

“Who are you?” You asked as you tried to steady your heart. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Shouldn’t you know? You called out to me.” He reminded you gently. Oh fuck.

“You’re the fucking WikiHow demon?!” You scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Are you fucking kidding me?! What self respecting demon puts their summoning ritual on fucking WikiHow?!?!” You lashed out in frustration, to hide from the fear. You didn’t sell your soul to this…being, did you? He chuckled at your sudden outburst, as if he was watching a cat try and escape a laundry basket it trapped itself in.

“What self respecting human performs a ritual found on WikiHow?” He threw that right back at you.

“That can’t be working out well for you.” it wasn’t quite what you meant to say. Your body felt like it was on fire with desire right now, and more than anything you wanted to rip him out of those leather pants. You’d be forgiven for not being the most articulate person right now. You got your point across, that’s what mattered.

“Why can’t it be?” He asked with a tilt of his head, “It’s worked out great for me so far. I get hundreds of thousands of curious summoners, and I get to respond to the ones I find interesting. Honestly, I think it was pretty genius.” He grinned. It was true. He ate way more now than he ever did when his summoning rituals were locked behind ancient, dusty tomes, long since forgotten to time. You huffed at him and shook your head.

“I still don’t know your name.” Why did that matter to you so much? Maybe it was because you wanted to know the name of the demon that had damned you. Maybe you wanted to know what name you’d be screaming later. Who knows. He smiled wide and with a flourish bowed before you, wings spreading out behind him and tails swirling in front of him.

“Satoru Gojo,” He said, “At your service.” With that, he straightened back up.

“Satoru Gojo, huh?” You scoffed, Trying to focus on your rage to distract yourself from the pleasure pooling inside of you. “So you’re the pervert that’s been groping me all night?”

“Strong way to put it, but yes.” He shrugged, nonchalant grin never leaving his face, “Who could blame me? Have you seen yourself? I couldn’t keep my hands off you even if I wanted to.” you ignored him.

“You’re a fucking creep!” You accused, “I didn’t consent to-”

“Oh you didn’t?” He cut you off with a scoff. “Oh, my mistake. See, I was under the impression that you had willingly entered the star to be sacrificed into my power, and willingly- if not even enthusiastically- participated in the ritual to bind yourself to me.”

Oh yeah. You did do that, huh? Your face said everything, and his smirk (somehow) got even more smug. “That’s what I thought. You see Sweets, in my world, you’ve already consented to everything I have planned for you.” He walked past you to sit on your bed, and you turned to not take your eyes off him.

“All of this,” he gestured widely with his hands, “Is really just in respect to your human culture. That, and everything tastes better when it’s given willingly.” he laughed.

"And what if I don't give it willingly?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"You will." He said that so matter-of-factly that it made your stomach burn. He said it as if he was telling you the time or reading off instructions. As if it was just an objective, unavoidable, fact.

"And what makes you so sure of that Lover Boy?" You scoffed, trying to hide the fact you were unnerved.

"Because I can smell your arousal from here,” He smiled, flashing those dangerous fangs again, “and you’ve been rubbing your delicious thighs together this entire conversation, and you refuse to look me in the eye cause you know the moment you do, all of this” he gestured at you with a single hand, “edgy mean girl attitude will vanish.” he said as he crossed his legs and held his knee with both hands. “You want me. You want me so bad, you’re struggling to think of anything else. It’s only a matter of time until you give into that carnal desire.”

You hated how accurately he read you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to guard your body from his invasive gaze. You hated the fact that you could feel your hips buck against his illusions. And that as good as they felt, they just weren’t enough. Your cunt was clenching around nothing and your skin burned for his touch. You could feel your resolve dissolving, fear giving way to lust.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not unless you want it to.”

“I’m not talking about sex dipshit,” You groaned, “I’m talking about losing up my soul.” For the first time this entire encounter, he looked confused.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” He asked.

“My soul,” You said, feeling his confusion rub off on you, “You’re an incubus, right? Isn’t that like…your thing?”

“No?” His confusion slowly transformed into chuckling as it finally dawned on him what the hold up was. “Oh sugar, is that why you’re fighting this so hard? You think I want your soul? Baby, you gotta stop watching so many movies. Mortal souls are absolutely worthless. Mortal pleasure on the other hand, now. That’s where the money lies.” You weren’t sure if that thought should have comforted you- or scared you more.

But before you could get too lost in your head, he uncrossed his legs and leaned back on the bed. His tight pants left next to nothing to the imagination, and you bit your lower lip so hard you were sure it bled.

"Come here Sweets." He said, opening his arms out to you. Your body acted on its own accord, walking over to him without any say from you. Before you knew it, you were straddling his lap. He placed his hands on your side, rubbing your hips and smiling at the way they bucked against him. "Look at you. Frustrated to tears and fighting, what, six months of tension? Don't do that to yourself Sugar. I can help you. You just have to let me."

You looked down. Some primal part of your brain knew this was a bad idea. This man(?) Was a predator who made no attempt to hide that fact about himself. You knew you should run.

And yet that same primal part of your brain wanted him all the more for that exact reason. "Let me take care of you." Gojo requested, running his hand up your bare back to tangle his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck. You felt yourself break.

"Okay…" you finally said, "Help me." He didn't need to be told twice. In a blink his lips were on yours, the taste of cherry and peaches invading your senses. His tongue slid past your teeth to tangle with yours, and for the first time you got a sense of just how long the muscle really was. The hand tangled in your hair gave a sharp tug, making you moan against his mouth. You could feel the already impressive tent in his pants get bigger.

Nervousness mixed with excitement as he flipped you over, pressing your back into your soft mattress. His head moved to kiss dark bruises into your neck, making sure to let his fangs nip the thin skin there. A reminder of what you were dealing with. He kissed down your body, finally landing at the place you needed him the most. He threw your leg over his shoulder, and pressed his face against your sticky cunt.

You let out a truly embarrassing moan as you were finally graced with the relief your body had been begging for. You whined as you felt him pressed his unnaturally long tongue into your weeping cunt, reaching places you didn’t know possible and stretching you in a deliciously devious way. He licked at your g-spot, sending shock waves of pleasure straight to your core and throughout the rest of your body.

His expert fingers worked at your clit as he lapped as your cunt. Your body reacted to him in ways it had never reacted before, overly sensitive and needy. Your hands reached down to tangle into his moon-pale hair, pulling on the soft tresses found there. Pulling him even closer and deeper into you. His long, thick tongue pushed in and out of your weeping cunt, and if you felt this fucked out from just his tongue, you were almost scared to think about what his cock would feel like. You saw his wings flutter in delight as you pulled at his hair again, and the coil inside of you got tighter.

Pleasure pulsed through your body, reaching every part of you and making your back arch off of the bed. You could feel your body buzzing with anticipation as your climax approached at breakneck speeds. You had felt nothing like this before, nothing had made you feel so euphoric. No boyfriend had ever even come close, and no toy could ever compare. Your head was exploding with heavy desire as your climax overtook you, shattering your world and wrecking your body with tremors.

You watched as he rose up from your legs, his heavy lidded eyes clouded with lust, a satisfied, lopsided grin on his face. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined." He complimented.

"Thanks, I eat a lot of pineapple." You muttered, still coming down from your earth shattering high, still trying to regain your bearings. He chuckled softly, leaning over you. Your face turned red as you realized your slick was still glistening in his lips and chin in the moonlight.

"I can tell." He winked, "Can you?" Before you could properly process his words, his hands were on the side of your face and pulling you into another heated kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, and felt his nails press red crescents into the side of your head. He was right, there was a sweetness there, and you felt a sense of pride swell inside you as you realized that.

Your hands found the back of his head, tangling into his hair and pulling him even further into the kiss. Your recuperation made him feral, and his hands went from the side of your face to your hips, grabbing you in a bruising grip and pulling your body closer to him. His touch set a fire inside of you, making your heart work over time as your hands clumsily tried to pull him closer. You found the joint connecting his wings to his back and grabbed into them for dear life, sending a shudder through his entire body. He looked at you with dark, blown out eyes.

“I’m going to fucking devour you.” He growled lowly at you. It sent a lighting bolt straight to your cunt. He pulled away, revealing that the leather corset and pants were finally gone. You felt your throat dry as you took in the sight of him. His body seemed to glow softly in the moonlight, lean and beautiful, his wings behind his frame making him look particularly ethereal. Your eyes trailed down and you choked back a moan.

You would never say this out loud, or about any mortal man for that matter, but…that mother fucker had a pretty cock. Long, with prominent veins and a baby pink tip. It stood proud against his stomach, already dripping with need, and all for you.

“You look like an angel…” You whispered without even thinking. He chuckled, showing off his fangs to remind you that looks could be deceiving.

“Is that what you want me to be?” He asked with a hum, grabbing your beautiful hips and positioning them against his, “I can be that for you. I can have you screaming out for god.” He shoved himself into you in one unforgiving go, sending a shock through your body as you moaned expletives, trying to adjust to the sudden intruder. “I can’t promise he’ll hear you though.” Gojo chuckled, “You’d be better off screaming for me.”

You moaned his name softly as you gripped onto his biceps, a scene that felt very familiar to you for some reason. He dragged himself out before pushing back in, perfectly gracing you G-spot with expert precision. He moaned as he did, trying to keep from losing control and fucking you like an animal. Your cunt was warm, and so welcoming. Pulling him in deeper and begging him for more. And who was he to deny you what you so desperately and clearly needed?

You felt his tails wrap around your knees and spread you wider for him, giving him more room to work. He adjusted your position under him, letting him get deeper inside of you than any man had ever been before. He filled you to the brim, overflowing your senses with euphoria as he made sure you felt every inch of him pounding into you.

“Fuck, ‘Toru!” You moaned as he overtook you. Every thrust sent a new wave of electrical fire through your body, leaving you completely at his mercy as your second high approached. The scene was sinful, even for Satoru. The soft nickname made his heart ache (which, weird not gonna unpack that) and the scene before him made his dick swell.

Your hair was messy from all of the pulling, and your eyes were fucked out and foggy. Your kiss swollen lips were red and parted, panting his name so beautifully. Your chest bounced with every push of his hips, and you took him so perfectly, it was like you were made to be his cock-sleeve. It was a scene he didn’t want to share with anybody else.

He leaned down closer to you, using his wings to shield your sin from the rest of the world. For the first time in his existence, he felt possessive. He didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, so pretty and needy. It was a sight only for him. The close intimacy overwhelmed you as his hand came to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to break you.

Your second climax of the night hit you like a hurricane, a wall of ecstasy crashing into you and sweeping you up in the whirlwind of mind numbing pleasure. You felt like you were on top of the world as it coursed through you in pulsating waves, his refusal to slow down for even a second putting even more power behind them.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt his tongue lick up your cheek, collecting the salty tears. “Look at my little cry baby,” He teased, “tearing up while falling apart around my cock. Do you even know what you’re fucking doing to me?” He growled as he dug his fangs into your neck hard enough to draw blood.

You let out a broken sob as his teeth dug into your skin, the pain mixing with the pleasure and making you clench around him. Your hands found where his wings attached to his back again, and grabbed onto them for dear life as you tried to ride out your intense high. The feeling of your nails in his wings sent him over the edge. He moaned your name pathetically as his tip kissed your cervix and he came deep inside of you. You felt the warmth of his climax mellow out and flow through you as he rode you through both of your highs, only stopping when both of your bodies forced you too.

He was breathing hard when he finally pulled out, collapsing on your bed next to you. He took a second to catch his breath, before pulling you into his arms and wrapping his wings around the both of you- not bothering with a blanket. You felt warm and safe inside of his wings, as if none of your problems or the evils of the real world could get to you as long as you were here.

“So…” You finally asked, breaking the silence, “What happens now?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, gingerly licking away the blood that trickled down your neck.

“Do I die? Do you leave? What comes next?” You asked, confused as to how to further explain. Your confusion turned into frustration as he laughed.

“Do I leave?” He chuckled, “Honey, did you not read the article? You summoned an incubus boyfriend. Good luck getting rid of me.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

thank you lovlies, for supporting my work! @sk8ttles, @blkkizzat,@littyasatittyyy,@ketchupsush1@my-names-angel-but-im-not-one, @ryomens-vixen, @yihona-san06 , @risuola, @bontensbabygirl, @spiderlilytengu and @aureliaviolet3

Thank you so much for all the support lovelies, and for continuing to read my work! You've all been wonderful, and I hope you all have a spooktacular Halloween!

and if you wanna read all of the Kinktober fics, you can find them all: Right Here!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #incubus gojo #incubus! Gojo x reader #monsterfucking #Trick-or-Kink 23 #satoru gojo x reader

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writingwithfolklore · 1 year

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How to Read with Intention

Often you hear advice to read, read, READ!!! And while I absolutely agree with that, I think there’s a way to read effectively to learn from it, and make sure you gain the most you can from it.

Reading intentionally looks like paying attention to and taking note of the technique, skill, and choices the author makes. Start with identifying the basics: motifs, theme, genre, through-lines. Essentially anything your English teacher wanted you to pick out of school readings (turns out those classes were actually worth something)!

As you’re going through the story, record any questions, strong emotions, or other things that stick out to you. Try to be specific with page number and chapter so later you can see how the emotional narrative develops throughout the story. A note might look like, “I wonder what’s going to happen to Anna now that her mother is back in town” or “Josh losing his journal is ending my life”.

Note what you really enjoy about the story, and also what you would change or do differently. Things that make you uncomfortable, in both good or bad ways, or that inspire you. I copy down quotes of lines or passages that I find particularly well written. Sometimes, I try to capture a character I particularly like through finding the quotes that speaks closely to them.

Pay attention to every word. Writers make a million choices, what does using “sprint” rather than “run” change? Why does the scene in the school yard follow the scene at the tomb?

What do we know about our main character? How do we know that? We could ask a million questions about a story, and with every one, we’re learning a little bit more on how to write one ourselves.

Pay special attention to the ending. What insight does it give us to the rest of the story?

Good luck!

#writing #writers #writing tips #writing advice #writing inspiration #creative writing #writing community #books #film #filmmaking #screenwriting #novel writing #fanfiction #writeblr #reading #how to read with intention #english #learning to write

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kronkk · 7 months

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RE: Female artists "preaching to the choir"

today I read this response to a Barbara Kruger's video installation Untitled (No Comment), a video that claims that she is "preaching to the choir". The funny thing is is that usually when I see a critic claiming this about a feminist artwork its usually a man, but in this case it was a woman.

I've found a lot of things accusing feminist artists now-adays of 'preaching to the choir' with their artwork, hell, I've even had this critique of my own work. And yet the same person who asked me if I was preaching to the choir with my liberal audience say that feminism wasn't necessary anymore in the same conversation of discussing FGM and that women making artwork in response to sexual assault was essentially trite.

The idea that the art world and the audience to art is more liberal and therefore less misogynistic is insulting. I've heard from several other artists that "those women knew what they were getting into" when discussing Picasso's rampant misogyny and wife beating, chewing and spitting out younger lovers like sticks of gum before exploiting their image under the pretense of 'muse' status.

how can it be preaching to the choir when as recently as 2012 and far back as 1989 the Guerilla Girls have pointed out that women only make up 4-5% of the artists in the modern art section of the Met Museum but 76-85% of the nudes.

Is the art world and its audience somehow removed from the rest of society at large? Is the art world even more liberal when the primary patrons and purchasers are the 1%?

Ive also already made a post about this that got heat from the misogynists on this website about the amount of art depicting rape that lines the walls of the met museum. They claim that because it's fine art, that because its the masters, that its okay. That its just a historical document. But why has the scene "The rape of Europa" been done over so many times it could be the equivalent of a 'standard'? Why is it that sexual violence is so glossed over? What does making such glorified art about rape do to a population? Why are depictions of rape made by men heralded as high art?

I wonder if the connection can be made between the fact that we know violent pornography lowers men's empathy towards rape victims, making them more likely to believe rape myths, and the fact that our museums are lined with men making rape scenes 'beautiful'? And if that connection can be made, the idea that women making art about their own trauma is 'preaching to the choir' is ridiculous. Why can male artist after male artist make 'beautiful' fine art about rape but when women make 'ugly' 'visceral' 'trauma' work about their own experience with sexual violence that its no longer okay?

super corny response and shift of the original assessment these critics are making is how can that be preaching to the choir when the supposed choir is made of up crusaders from the opposition?

#kronkk art ramblings #i will probably rewrite this and beef it up #like with sources and better analysis

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harringtonstilinski · 27 days

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Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twenty-Three: E Pluribrus Unum (Bonus Scene)

Author: @harringtonstilinski Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 3,169 Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, steve getting his ass kicked, steve and robin being drugged, italics is steve hearing liv's commentary, tiniest bit of foreshadowing 👀 ?, non-canon hallucinations (not mentioned in story after this), Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! Y'all voted for a bonus scene, and I'm here to deliver! Main focus is Steve and Robin's scenes. If you like this bonus scene, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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Steve’s Pov

As soon as Liv, Dustin and Erica were out of sight, Robin and I were flung through the air to the wall next to us at the door being shoved open. Once we got our bearings, we raised our hands, Russian guards standing in front of us with their guns drawn. Ahh, crap.

They hauled us to our feet, essentially dragging us to separate rooms. My only thought as they kept asking me questions and punching me when I gave them my answers was that I was super glad Liv wasn’t here to hear or witness this. She’d be losing her shit.

As they punched me in the face, yet again, I groaned in pain, again thankful that Liv wasn’t here to try and kick the shit out of these Russian assholes. After we confessed our love to each other, my need to protect her increased tenfold. I’m sure her need increased, as well.

Feeling blood dripping from my mouth, I groaned, “That one stung,” before gasping for air.

What I’m guessing is the main head honcho for these buttwipes asked, “Who do you work for?”

“For the millionth time, I work at Scoops Ahoy!” Bringing my head up, I breathed out, “Scoops Ahoy,” doing my best to gear up for the next hit to the face… that didn’t happen. That hit went to my stomach, a pained groan coming from my throat before I yelled out, “What the hell?! ”

Bending over, I said, “Look at my outfit! Look at my outfit! My girlfriend might think it’s hot, but look at it! You think I just wear this?! Think I’m a spy in a sailor’s uniform?” Another punch to the stomach.

I can hear Olivia now saying, “You assholes! I’m gonna kill you!” or “I’ll take his place!” while struggling against another guard.

With a stone face, the head honcho asked with an uninterested tone, “How did you get in?”

Gasping for breath, I was bent over as I grunted, “I already told you,” before sitting up to say, “I told you before.” I gasped for air again, hearing Liv’s voice in my head saying, “Lie again,” before repeating my words from earlier. “My delivery didn’t come, and my friends and I, we thought that it was left at the loading dock, so we went into the room, and it tuuurrrrned into an elevator, and then…”

“You have to be a better liar, Steven,” her voice said.

“And then we dropped and then next thing we know, I open my eyes and we’re in this… wonderful facility.”

“Oh my god. Shut up, Steve.”

“But I swear to God, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us. You could just let us go, alright? And I’m not gonna tell anybody about this, okay? Shit happens, life goes on. And uhh… ice-ice cream. Ice cream, okay? You guys know what ice cream is.”

“They’re Russians, not aliens from space, Steven!”

“Everybody loves ice cream. I don’t know if you have Russian ice cream or if that’s considered gelato-”

“That’s Italians, Steve!”

“I don’t know what’s what, but whatever you guys want, seriously. USS Butterscotch, I mean, you gotta try it. It’s out of this world, I’m telling ya!”

Head honcho and the guy that was repeatedly hitting me just started… laughing? So, I joined in, as well. More nervously, of course.

“I like this guy!” Head honcho said. “USS… Butterscotch.” He laughed again, it turning into a chuckle as he bent down a little, resting his hands on his knees.

All I could do was look at him nervously, scared for what was to come next as the room fell quiet.

“Who do you work for?” he enunciated.

Well, shit. “Oh, come on,” I all but whined, eyeing the other guard. “No, no! No, seriously!”

Black was the very next thing that I saw as that douchebag hit me in the face… yet again.

~~~

I don’t remember much else after literally being knocked out, but what I do remember next was waking up to Robin’s voice calling out for help.

“Hey,” I said, groggily. “Would you stop yelling?”

I could feel her relief from just hearing my voice as she said, “Steve! Oh, my god!” before panting out my name. She was leaning back as I was leaning forward as she asked, “Are-are you okay?”

“My ears are ringing, I can barely breathe, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, and Liv’s voice is running through my head, but ya’know, apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”

“Well, the good news is that they’re calling you a doctor,” Robin said.

“Jesus, you two are idiots.”

I looked around the room, which looked liked a… ya’know, a doctors room. “Is this his place of work? I love the vibe.” Robin chuckled as I added, “Charming.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. So, okay,” she said. “Do you see that table over there to your right?”

I turned my head to the left. Don’t ask why.

“Babe. Your other left.”

“No, your other right,” Robin said.

Turning my head to my correct right, she added, “Yeah, okay. Do you see those scissors?”

“Uh-huh,” I confirmed.

“Yeah, well, I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap.”

Picking up what she was putting down, I said, “And I could cut the binds.”

“Yeah, and we could get out of here.”

“Gotcha. Okay, yeah, we can do that.”

“Yeah.”

“Those morons. They left scissors in here?” I asked, turning my head side to side.

“Yeah, morons,” Robin added.

“Total morons,” I added to my own statement, adding with determination, “Okay.”

“Okay, so, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”

“O-okay, good, hop on three. I gotcha.”

“Alright. One.. two.. three.”

We both hopped towards the table, a little happy that this plan was actually working. Robin and I counted to three again, our excitement building at the fact that we were almost to the table… and I was almost to the point where I could hug and kiss my girl again.

Counting to three again, we hopped for a third time… only for our fucking luck to bite us in the ass because we ended up falling, our heads towards the table, our feet towards the door.

Robin and I both groaned at our heads and arms hitting the ground before I heard her crying.

“A bunch of fucking geniuses.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Robin.” Instead of hearing her cry, I heard her… laughing? “Are you laughing?”

She laughed harder before saying, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”

“We’re not gonna die,” I reassured. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Liv wouldn’t let us die anyway. She’d kill every single Russian down here before they could kill us. Just– you gotta let me just think for a second.”

It was quiet for a moment, my thoughts running through my brain before Robin asked, “Do you remember, uhm, Mrs. Click’s sophomore History class?”

I lifted my head, shaking it a little before asking with an annoyingly curious tone, “What?”

“Mrs. Clickity-Clackity,” she said. “That’s what us band dweebs called her.”

Sighing, I pressed my forehead into the floor, remembering when I was an asshole to everyone, the guilt eating at me in this moment.

“It was first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late.”

Even though we weren’t as close during that time, Liv had ended up scolding me more than a few times for always being late. “Goodness, Harrington. Don’t you own a fucking watch?”

“And you always had the same breakfast. Bacon, egg and cheese on a sesame bagel.”

“I know we’re not close anymore, but you could still bring me a freaking sausage McMuffin!” Since Liv scolded me the last time, every Tuesday and Thursday she’d find a Sausage McMuffin in her locker.

“I sat behind you, two days a week for a year,” Robin said. “Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Liv being your Queen.”

“Ugh! Don’t bring that up!”

“Do you even remember me from that class?”

“No.”

I didn’t know what to say because… well, I didn’t remember her. I didn’t care about anyone else or anything during high school. Other than the girls I’d bang, being in basketball and on the swim team, or being with Nancy… or being friends with Liv again.

Robin’s chuckle brought me out of my thoughts before she said, “Of course you don’t. You were a real asshole, ya’know that?”

Feeling incredibly bad, I said sadly, “Yeah, I know.”

“The biggest asshole, babe.”

“But it didn’t even matter,” Robin continued. “It didn’t even matter that you were an ass. I was still… obsessed with you.”

I could hear Liv’s scoff as she said, “Everyone was.”

“Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular… accepted, normal.”

“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” I said, sniffling. “Seriously. Liv can tell you that… even though she… didn’t grow up the same as me.” Taking a deep breath, I sighed it back out as I said, “It just baffles me. Everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just…” I lightly chuckled before adding, “...bullshit. But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?”

“I hope so. I feel like my whole life has been… one big error.”

We both chuckled, a smile crossing my face for the first time since yesterday.

“Yep,” I agreed, a small smile on my face.

“At least it can’t get any more messed up than this,” Robin said.

“Ya’know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Really. I do.”

“Olivia humbled you,” Robin whispered.

“Yeah. She did.” I smiled a little, thinking of my girlfriend and how grateful I am of her. How happy I am that she gave me a thump on my head when I needed it most. “Maybe you both could’ve helped me pass the class. Maybe instead of being here, Liv and I’d be on our way to college right now.”

“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet, and I would happily be slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”

We chuckled, I guess because we’ve accepted our fate.

“Gotta say, though,” I said. “I liked being your schmuck.”

“Uhm, hello?!”

I chuckled lightly at hearing Liv’s commentary in my head. “So did Liv. It was fun while it lasted.”

“It was.”

Our come to Jesus meeting was over at the sound of the buzzer and door opening. We looked up, seeing the Head Honcho walk in with three other people… and then he chuckled.

“Where were you two going?” he asked, brows raised and arms out to his side for a moment.

“Ugh! Just go somewhere, asswipe. You’re kind of annoying.”

He clicked his tongue before the two guards lifted us up, setting the chairs back on their feet. I could see it now; Head Honcho holding Liv back, struggling to get out of his arms. “Don’t you fucking touch them, Russian bastard!”

Head Honcho bent in front of me again as I felt Robin’s head leaning on my neck as he asked, “Try telling the truth this time, yes?”

“He is, you ignorant freak!”

“It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful,” he continued, stroking the side of my face.

Again, I could see Olivia struggling in my mind, yelling at the doctor. “Don’t fucking touch him, you sick bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Touching a sore on my chin, I winced, once again, seeing Liv in my mind struggling against the guard, her hair all around her face as she cried in sadness and anger. Head Honcho chuckled again before nodding once to the doctor.

I turned my head to watch him walk around me, a big ass needle in his hand, with blue liquid inside of a small vile. Fear started showing through as I looked at it, saying, “Wait a sec, wait. Hold on. Okay! Wait, wait, wait! What is that thing?”

The ‘doctor’ was standing next to me with the needle gun thing as he said, “It will help you talk.” He grabbed my hair and tilted my head to the side.

“Did you even clean that thing?!” I yelled, before screaming at the needle being punctured into my neck, the liquid seeping into my veins.

~~~

After they had done the same thing to Robin, Head Honcho and his pack of bastards left the room, leaving Robin and I by ourselves for a moment. What was weird was that I couldn’t still see Liv, but not hear her in my mind anymore, my brain feeling more fuzzy than ever, almost like I’d smoked a joint.

Robin moved her head against mine a few times, as I just stared at a spot on the wall, seeing Liv every now and again as she paced in front of me. “I’m gonna kill them. I’m gonna fucking kill them.”

“Honestly, I don’t really feel anything,” I said. “Do you?”

“Really, Steven?”

“I mean, I… I feel fine,” Robin replied. “I feel normal.”

“Yeah, I feel-I feel fine,” I agreed, before slurring, “I kinda feel good,” before we both chuckled.

I wish I could say I actually felt Liv’s hands on my cheeks, but in my mind… I did. “Steve. You’re high as a fucking kite. Keep your mouth closed. Don’t say anything.”

“Wanna know a secret?” Robin asked.

“What?” I asked.

“I like it, too! And I’ve been seeing and hearing Liv!”

“Me, too!” I said, laughing.

“I feel good.”

“Morons! They messed up the drug.”

“Oh… my god.”

“They messed it up!”

As Robin leaned her head back, I tilted mine forward. “Morons,” she said.

Robin and I looked at the door as I loudly said, “Morons!”

“Hey, morons!”

“Moron! Mor–” she said at the same time I said, “Hey!”

“Whoa-oh!” I was still smiling and laughing, closing my eyes for a moment.

“Oh, no. There’s definitely something wrong with us.”

Amused, I said, “Somethin’s wrong.”

“Ya’think! Fucking idiots.”

That damn door buzzer sounded again, but I kind of didn’t care because of how good I felt as the Head Honcho and the Doc walked into the room. What did grab my attention was watching Head Honcho walking around Robin and I on her side just for him to stop and stand in front of me.

I turned my head after looking at him for a moment, watching the Doc mess with his bag at the table. Whatever he sets down makes Robin chuckle a little as he grabs a freaking medical bone saw from his bag.

“Would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?” Robin asked.

The image of Olivia hastily walking around to Robin flashed in my mind, her hushed voice saying, “Robin, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll send you to the Upside Down for a full-ass week!”

“Let’s try this again, yes?” Head Honcho said.

I licked the inside of my tongue, feeling to see if it was still there as I nodded and murmured out something while nodding my head.

Without missing a beat, he asked, “Who do you work for?”

“Scoops,” I said, looking at a random spot as Robin chuckled, my own joining. “Scoops Ahoy.”

Robin’s giggles were quiet as he asked, “How did you find us?”

I looked up at him, saying without missing a beat, “Totally by accident,” before lightly laughing… again.

He said something in Russian as I looked down for a moment, picking my head back up at the sound of something being open and closed, the Doc making his way back to us. “What is that shiny little toy?”

“Where are you going with that, Doc?” Robin asked.

Even in my high as a kite state, fear jumped through my body as he brought the clipper looking things to my fingers, grabbing onto my fingernail. “Whoa, whoa, hey, hey. Wait! No! Wait! Wait!”

“There was a code! There was a code! We heard a code!” Robin shouted as I jumped and tried to get away from the Doc.

“Code,” Honcho said, walking around to Robin. “What code?”

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. Blah, blah, blah. You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town, and we picked it up on our Cerebro, and we cracked it in a day. A day! You think you’re so smart, but a couple of kids who scoop ice cream for a living cracked your code in a day, and now, people know you’re here.”

“Who knows we’re here, suchka?”

“Uh, well Dustin and Olivia know,” I said, looking off into space.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

“Hey, Steve?” Robin said.

“Yeah, Dustin and Olivia, the Henderson’s, they know.”

“Steve!”

“Dustin and Olivia Henderson,” Honcho said, walking around to stand in front of me. “Is this your small, curly-haired friend? As well as your short, curly-haired girlfriend?”

“Oh, curly-haired. Great hair. Small. Kinda like a ‘fro, yeah,” I said. “Where are they?”

“Oh, they’re long gone, you big asshole.” Little did I know. “And they’re probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the US Calvary. They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazin’, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.” With the drugs in my system, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” I said, matter-of-factly, before Robin and I laughed, Honcho joining in.

It all stopped at the sound of an alarm going off, all of our heads turning to the door. At the sound of Russian’s yelling, I turned back to Honcho and shrugged my shoulders, as if I were telling him told ya so.

Honcho left the room, telling the Doc to stay put… I guess. I don’t know. I don’t speak Russian. A couple of minutes went by before the door slammed opened, Dustin charging through with a zapping device, putting it against the Doc’s chest.

Olivia and Erica walked in after him, my eyes following all of them before landing on Liv’s, seeing her stand between Dustin and Erica, her eyes on the doc that fell to the ground. She turned to face me, seeing my eye bruised and swollen.

“Hey! Henderson!” I said, excitedly. “That’s… crazy, I was just talking about you.”

Sighing, Liv undid the bonds that were around my arms, hands and legs before putting her hand on my cheek. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, my god,” Robin said.

“Get ready to run!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~

A/N 2: hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: not doing normal tags at the bottom since this is just a bonus scene.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on April 4, 2024

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader

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dragonfly0808 · 3 months

Text

Ailia and the Great Dragon

So, fun fact, I actually considered having a flashback chapter in season 3 exploring Ailia and how she became the first guardian of the dragon flame but in the end, I felt like it would disrupt the flow of those chapters and I didn’t want to randomly pluck it in there when there was so much going on.

I never wrote the chapter but I did have the idea of what would happen in it so, if you want to keep reading, you’ll find essentially the bullet points of the story of the very first guardian of the dragon flame.

First off, we were going to get Ailia in her village, see Domino when it was just getting started, huts and wells and all that shit.

Ailia was going to go to the woods to get away from it all, she was going to be a healer and an orphan, trying her best to help the elders of her village and also help the leaders of the small community get more people to train to become healers.

After venturing in the woods for a while and reaching a lake where she collects herbs for potions, she sees strange tracks that lead her to a cave, where she finds the Great Dragon.

Ailia finds the Dragon severely injured and, after a moment of hesitation and trying to comprehend what she was seeing (she’d never seen a dragon before and had no idea what it even was) she instantly decided to help it.

She would quickly bandage the wound as best as she could with her underskirt before going back to the village for more supplies (without mentioning the dragon to anyone for fear of how they would respond)

Once she headed back and continued working, the Dragon awakened and saw Ailia trying to help. Ailia would be terrified but doing her best, trying to comfort the Dragon since she didn’t know how intelligent the Dragon really was.

This was where we would’ve gotten the Dragon’s pov (oh yeah, we would’ve gotten a pov from the fucking Dragon), waiting for Ailia to make a request or pray for blessings for helping him. However, when Ailia just kept trying to comfort him and the Dragon realized she wasn’t expecting anything in return, he was confused. He’d never experienced someone helping him just out of the goodness of their heart and not because they were either afraid of him or thought of him as a deity that could give them blessings.

Ailia would be talking about her life and her studies about herbs and really anything since she thinks the Dragon is relaxed by her voice, when in reality the Dragon has never had anyone just… talk to him casually, let alone talk about humane things.

After making up some excuse at the village (and somehow managing to sneak out a few sheep to feed the dragon, which was meant to be a hilarious scene to show Ailia’s ingenuity) she spends all her time in the cave for two weeks, speaking to the Dragon and helping it heal.

After the second day, the Dragon finally communicates with her through telepathy, which initially freaks Ailia out as she fully realizes just who the Dragon is but she quickly manages to calm down and starts asking questions, wanting to understand more about magic (at this point Ailia didn’t have any magic and was just a normal Healer) and to know how the rest of the galaxy works.

The Dragon is delighted since no one has ever asked him anything that wasn’t “can you fight for us?” Or “will you please do ___ for us?” And explains everything he can, even showing Ailia some stuff through telepathy.

Three weeks in, the Dragon seems to be healed but Ailia is unsure. The Dragon takes Ailia on a flight, which is the happiest moment of the Dragon’s life because of how much fun Ailia has.

Finally, the Dragon, without being asked to, blesses Ailia and makes her a fairy, giving her natural healing abilities.

During the Dragon’s time with Ailia, he realized just how tired he was and decided to try and, for the first time ever, negociate with the Leviathan.

A while after, the Dragon and Leviathan agree to leave the magical dimension and the Dragon returns to Domino, finding Ailia (and freaking out a lot of villagers that have fully accepted Ailia as a leader after she was given magic) and explaining everything to her and asking her to be the Guardian of the Dragon Flame.

Ailia of course agrees (in between sobs since she’s sad that she’ll never see the Dragon in person again) and is quickly made not just leader, but queen of Domino.

She accompanies the Dragon to its ‘final resting place’.

And that was what was meant to be the story behind the very first Guardian of the Dragon Flame!

#Veiled wings anniversary #veiled wings and shattered panoramas #winx club #winx rewrite #winx #winx headcannon #winx fanfic #winx headcanons #winx bloom #winx club rewrite

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 7 months

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Good day! This is my first time asking so sorry if it sounds weird! Can I ask something related to Hiccup's accidental confession in "Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot"? Maybe his experience in jealousy when Dagur takes a liking to Hiccup's crush?

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 4

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 2197

Enter scene: Dagur the Deranged

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Riders of Berk, Twinsanity, Canon compliant/divergent, unedited

< Previous - Next>

Some people had fun lives-parties, drinks, a lot of mixing with other people-and some people got a full education. You got neither, because you were stuck here, some good thousand years in the past, listening to this.

“It’s so annoying, they won’t stop talking about my father!”

Everyone else cowered away, even his own… Friends. Followers. Parents, maybe. Whoever the men standing behind him were. There was something unsettling about him. He was intense and like a small animal, it made you want to quiet and hide.

“Really?” You asked, parroting him, “I can see how that would be annoying.”

He looked at you with his eyes wide open, an insane look in his eye like he was waiting for you to falter somehow, so you were afraid that staying silent was out of the question.

“You wouldn’t happen to be hiding any dragons? Would you?”

“N-no?” You smiled awkwardly. Barf and Belch were more like one dragon. With two brains. So you were telling the truth, sort of,

A viking about the same age if not a few years older than you stood absentmindedly in the middle of your path, twirling a knife casually, though to you it came off as menacing. A metal helmet that covered all of his head barring his eyebrows, a bright red, and the oblong face below it.

Stripes of blue ran across his right eye. Left eye, from his perspective, your right. You couldn’t tell if it was facepaint or a tattoo.

“I’m sorry, I didn't… Ah, catch your name? Who are you, again?”

From memory, you could recall nothing of him but a few distant impressions. Not even a name. You knew vaguely that he was supposed to be important, and bad news, which set you on edge. He was probably not from around here, given that you’d never seen him before.

“... You don’t know who I am?” He looked almost affronted, fingering the tip of his knife, not caring a bit when the sharp blade cut a small nick into the very tip. You watched wearily as a small bit of blood welled at the entrance of the wound.

“I’m new here, and I don’t usually spend time indulging in politics.”

“Really?” he asked. ‘So you’re unattached?’ his face said joyfully. You weren’t very good at reading between the lines but you could tell that much. You were afraid he might be rid of you, then drag your lifeless body into the woods for the wolves to eat. Then he might eat the wolves.

You shifted from foot to foot uneasily and yet somehow exhaustively in front of a set of large doors, part of some poor viking’s hovel, wherein a large two-headed dragon was now contained.

You didn’t want to have anything to do with it but with all the panic, you felt that you should probably help out.

You’d heard earlier that everyone was evacuating their dragons. When you asked where they were going and if you needed to catch a ride, they told you to stay back and ignore it like the rest of them. So, as per request, you decided to stay out of it.

You might not have known the reason why but you knew it was of the utmost importance. And you had an inkling it might have had something to do with Dagur the Deranged, as he was boasting his name and in the same breath spewing something about treaties and dragonblood.

Privately, though, you thought it seemed incredibly inconvenient and illogical to send all the dragons off the island, especially with how essential they had become to Berk’s day-to-day. There was no way in hel that they could have removed every trace of dragons in Berk in just a day. And in hindsight, they hadn’t. People had been cleaning up for weeks, though you weren’t sure why. Now you knew.

Honestly, maybe you weren’t even sure that the Berk vikings needed more than a day. After all, before the dragon raids stopped, they were rebuilding villages in just a day, on top of all the other insanely laborious things that you needed to do to survive on this island.

Whoever thought it would be a good idea to build the village away from the forest and the rest of the island and fresh water and all the other foresty things people needed to survive deserved to die. Whoever decided it would be on this specific, extremely windy outcropping with only a thin, rickety bridge connecting the two deserved much worse.

“-My armada.” Dagur stood tall, staring off into the sky like he was preaching to some higher power, “Ready with the might of fifty thousand Berserker soldiers!”

Unfortunately, Dagur- he’d caught you as you’d shut the doors, two-pronged tail waving just out of sight. Wrangling dragons wasn’t your strong suit. In fact it was less wrangling and more pushing the Zippleback bodily in the direction you wanted and hoping that by some miracle it listened. Or found something it liked in the same direction.

“However, I can’t seem to find any dragon riders.”

“Well, I haven’t seen any recently“ You tried, voice a few octaves too high and a smidge too cracked. Hopefully, though, it was absent of the abject uncomfortability wracking your beating heart. Also, that was a blatant lie.

“But if there are any, they’re probably afraid?” You avoided looking him in the eye.

“The mighty Hooligans, most efficient dragon slayers, fiercest vikings on the seven seas, afraid? Who knew?” he said, with no amount of hidden glee, “If you’re lying to me, I’ll have your head.”

“On a platter,” You agreed, edging away slowly. Maybe he was insane. But whether he was insane enough was the question. Insane enough not to notice the stiff set of your shoulders and way you leaned back as he encroached on your personal space.

You glared bitterly at a burly blonde man with a large, ram-horned helmet as he snuck past the pair of you plus entourage. You wanted to call him a coward, but the odds, and the company were frightening, so you understood on some level. It didn’t stop the sharp bitter pang from curling in your gut.

At this very moment, you so very badly wanted to be anywhere else. Not pressed against a set of rugged wooden doors, with the too-loud gravel and dried grass crunching under your feet. Most of all, back on your haystack, laying down and imagining you were back in your time at a park, or something, with luxuries like electricity. And running water. And digestible food.

“Ruffnut! Tuffnut-!”

You breathed a sigh of relief as you heard, then saw, when you could muster the courage to turn your stiff neck away, Hiccup, in his red tunic-which he hadn’t seemed to take off since you’d given it to him, which was kind of gross, but whatever, it was his shirt- running down the long end of a spiraling wooden pathway to your right.

The people here did only bathe, like, once a week. Maybe it wasn't whatever. It was kind of unsanitary. You realized bitterly that it might not be so hard to get ahold of some decent bathing water if you weren’t the only one who bathed so regularly.

Hiccup came to a clumsy stop right by you, slightly in front as if maybe sensing your alarm, though really you chalked it up to the steep incline and his difficult to navigate prosthetic leg. You suspected that there wasn’t as much of a solid grip at the bottom as there should be.

“Are you alright?” You mumbled under your breath. He did look stressed. Maybe he was vulnerable to the suggestion of taking a bath. If you were going to spend your time here campaigning for proper hygiene then he seemed like a good place to start.

“I’m-” Hiccup said, half-wheezing from his sprint, “Have you seen-?”

“What are we whispering about?” Dagur spoke loudly. Well, louder than the two of you.

Hiccup winced. You winced too, though probably not for the same reason. The Zippleback stuck in storage behind had started doing something. There was a healthy rifling building up behind the two of you.

“There’s no dragons here!” Hiccup said, then, just as loudly, probably trying to cover up the noise behind him, “My father, the Chief, wants to speak with you.”

“Again?” Dagur threw his head back, obviously annoyed. Then he said, his voice laden with sarcasm, “How about you go ahead? We wouldn’t want to leave this lovely lady all by her lonesome, would we?”

His voice was not lacking in any amount of sarcasm.

“Look, like I said, how about you keep on searching. I’ll stay behind.” Hiccup asserted. He usually tried to take the mediating stance, with varied measures of success. Especially since the island started training dragons and he was put in charge of them.

It wasn’t a lot, but you were sort of relieved he was doing something, because you most definitely didn’t have the authority, inherited or earned, to do it yourself.

Hiccup, though, looked an awful lot like he’d put on a pair of boots that were much too large for him, though the longer he stood there and Dagur stared, the more twitchy he got.

Like a lightbulb went off in his head Dagur grinned down at the two of you.

“Hey, wait-!” Hiccup startled, eyes widening. Before you could react, Dagur had pushed him aside and dipped you by the waist to move you out of Hiccup’s way, which only seemed to frustrate him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“Thanks,” You said to Hiccup, petting the head of the calmed Zippleback, a-la-Hiccup, as he nursed his eye, fresh and brightly bruised, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I didn’t do much,” Hiccup said deprecatingly, shifting awkwardly where he sat. He was sitting on a crate in the dark cabin. He had taken a pretty bad beating.

You hadn’t sat by either, feeling terrible as Dagur took the excuse to bully Hiccup. Dagur hadn’t taken too kindly to you telling him no either. Unfortunately, now you were nursing a few bruises yourself. The hammer of justice was unisex, you supposed. Except in this case, it was more like the hammer of war.

You really hoped you hadn’t accidentally started something with the Berserkers.

“You said something,” You shook your head, “I think I saw at least five people pass me by before you. I mean it.”

“And I think I owe you an apology,” You laughed awkwardly, backing away from the Zippleback as it lifted its head, deciding that it had had enough time being scratched by your not-so-expert fingers, “I tried to help but I’m pretty sure I just made things more difficult. And got in the way. I didn’t really expect him to start a fight like that.”

“Got in the way? …Got in the way of what? Me talking my way into a fight? Or falling my way to victory?” Hiccup suggested hesitantly after a moment. You could tell he was having a hard time finding the right words.

“I tripped more than you did.” You insisted.

“No, you didn’t. Did you see me? I literally fell into a fist.” Hiccup looked up at you, exposing a still-bleeding cut under his bruise-free eye, which you had sacrificed a strip of your skirt to dab at. You worried it might need stitches.

“Well, at least Dagur’s off somewhere else. Terrorizing other people.” You scratched the back of your neck, cringing as the extra movement irritated your sore ribs.

Hiccup winced, “That was supposed to be my job. To make sure he doesn’t.”

“Oh boy, That’s rough,” You said sympathetically, rubbing the back of your head, half self-consciously and half to make sure you weren’t forming any lumps, “Doesn’t he have, like, a whole detail following him around to make sure he can?”

You exhaled, “Speaking of, is there anywhere… away from him that I could go? Just until the end of the day? He really freaks me out.”

You hoped you said that right. Sometimes you had a hard time translating your modern colloquialisms. And decoding the local ones.

“I think so, I’m not sure, but have you seen the twins?” Hiccup furrowed his brow, “I’ve been, well, looking for them. I might have an idea.”

You sat yourself down heavily on a rock overlooking the cliffs, watching the fleet of Berserker ships sail off into the distance and you pounded your chest with your fist as you tried to calm your racing heart. You hadn’t realized what had happened at first so it had sent you into a panic.

But once you realized, you weren’t really sure all the extra theatrics were necessary. The chicken gore might have been a bit overkill. And the fake beheading. And the almost actual beheading. It was still wild enough that you had to flee.

A regular plain old fake dragon attack would have probably been enough. Genuinely, sometimes you had to ask yourself if you really had ended up in a kid’s show or something much, much worse.

#Not quite what you asked for but it's close #not weird at all #thank you for asking and interacting #will incorporate more jealousy in the future #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #toothless #fem reader #female reader

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sleepy-shinx · 3 months

Text

Fellow submas fans what are your favorite reunion scenarios

And I want to hear two things from y’all:

1. Your favorite way to imagine the reunion happening in your head

2. Your favorite reunion scene in a currently existing fanfiction (AND TELL ME THE FIC/LINK IT SO I CAN READ IT IF I HAVEN’T ALREADY)

My response to prompt 1 turned longer than expected so I’m putting it under the read more, but my answer to 2 is fucking @dittolicous’s fic ‘the only way to be sure of catching a train is to miss the one before it’ I swear to god it’s the most delicious submas fic I’ve ever read I have reread it so many times purely for the reunion alone but then I get sucked into the rest because it’s just a beautiful story and all of the characterization is my absolute favorite and. It. Is. AMAZING.

HERE’S THE LINK. READ IT.

Anyway my answer to #1 is below the cut- it’s long- it got away from me- I would love for y’all to read it but if you don’t it’s chill and I’d still love to hear your own thoughts on my prompts-

For me for #1 I LOVE the idea of Ingo getting his memories back but somehow the reunion is still a surprise for both him and Emmet. The way I have it play out in my head is a whole story that could hypothetically be a fanfiction if it weren’t for the fact that I have very few details lined out and also that takes effort.

But essentially Volo’s still being a bitch but after a talk with Akari, Arceus realizes some of the mistakes it made with bringing her into Hisui with no prior warning and forcing her to tackle everything alone, so it approaches her and Ingo to request their help in stopping Volo once and for all, returning both of their memories at the same time. It also promises to send them help, but does not elaborate on what the help will exactly look like. It does say that it will call on them for assistance once it has chosen those who will join them. It also says that if they are successful in their endeavors, they will be rewarded with one favor from the God.

Naturally after getting his memories back Ingo’s a whole mess of grief but having committed to staying in Hisui for the time being he has no choice but to stay. In this, Akari is Dawn the DPP protag and Arceus gave her a false memory of what her name was when she was sent to Hisui. She’s also not doing super great after getting her memories back but not as bad as Ingo who was there longer than her (I’ve settled on 4 years for Ingo and 1.5 years for Dawn)

However, Arceus may have seemed like it was still deciding who to send when it spoke to them, but it already knew exactly who to send.

And it involved righting the wrongs committed by Volo and Giratina with the space-time distortions.

Cut to modern day Unova! Emmet is a wreck in his brother’s absense, but he’s doing better than he was in the first couple years. Things have changed for those Ingo left behind; Elesa and Skyla start dating while he’s gone in this fic, and I like to imagine that Iris becomes Champion in his absense (specifically because Hil(da/bert) were still missing, so Unova technically had no Champion and Alder had fully retired from the battling scene. This was leading to complications in getting clearance to branch out the search for Ingo to other regions and Iris, fully sick of it, challenges the League herself and Drayden calls in a favor from Alder to get her a ‘Champion’ to battle. And she ends up being one of Unova’s best Champions in many different ways! Also I imagine the events of BW2 absolutely happened except Rosa/Nate decided not to challenge the Elite Four. Oh god that was quite a tangent uh)

And then one night four years after his disappearance (and like two weeks after Arceus asks Ingo and Dawn for their help), Emmet and Elesa both have the same very weird dream.

In which Arceus asks them both for their assistance, because shit’s going down in ancient Sinnoh and it needs more human help in getting it to stop. It does NOT tell them why EXACTLY they specifically are being asked, just that there IS a specific reason it’s asking them of all people and that they won’t regret going. It gives them two days to think and decide, also offering them the reward of a favor if they succeed.

This gives the two of them time to not only decide, but also TELL THEIR LOVED ONES THAT THIS IS HAPPENING

Emmet’s initially hesitant about doing it, but the favor seals the deal for him. With no context to what Arceus is doing at this point, he is determined to try to use the favor he will receive from the God to get Ingo back. He doesn’t really tell anyone except Elesa, not wanting to get anyone’s hopes up in case Arceus is unable to help, but deep down he hopes that if NOTHING else he will at least get closure.

Elesa was down from the start, she has no reason to say no and the favor is very enticing. For reasons.

(Cute side note I only have Elesa’s favor decided on. And she asks Arceus to ensure that on her and Skyla’s wedding day, the weather will be absolutely perfect. Perfect temperature, partly cloudy, slight breeze. Just exactly what they need for a beautiful wedding. And Arceus gifts her a pen that it tells her to write the date down with once it is decided upon and it will make sure it happens.)

(I also think that up until that point the two of them had absolutely talked about getting married but Elesa wasn’t ready because she had decided years ago that if she ever got married she wanted the twins to walk her down the aisle (bad relationship with her parents) and. yeah)

Anyway! They were instructed to go to Sinnoh if they decided to go and so Skyla flies them there (she doesn’t stay in Sinnoh, it was made quite clear that Emmet and Elesa would potentially be gone for a couple months (and they are)). They go up Mount Coronet and climb The Stairs into Arceus’s domain to meet with Arceus in the flesh this time.

Where, before sending them to Hisui, it tells them a story. About a man named Volo, who wished to remake the world so no one would suffer, so he manipulated Giratina into doing his bidding and started ripping tears open in space-time. Creating space-time distortions, and eventually even the rift above Mount Coronet.

It also says that when were opened, usually they connected Hisui to the modern world, and usually, the rift openings that were much smaller in the modern day than in Hisui, would open in areas far enough away from human civilization to prevent humans from being sucked through them.

With one notable exception.

Arceus reveals that four years ago, one particular distortion opened in the Hisuian Icelands that connected specifically to the subway tunnels underneath Nimbasa City.

And Emmet and Elesa understand instantly.

Both are a mess at this point, Emmet much more so. He hadn’t expected to get answers right off the bat. But there’s the terror rising in his heart of if his brother was dropped into unfamiliar, freezing cold territory 200 years in the past, would he have survived that???

He asks Arceus with a choked voice if his brother is still alive.

Arceus responds by calling Ingo into its domain, having called upon him prior to this to ‘ensure that those it was sending to the past would have someone to guide them through the unfamiliar time and place’.

Leaving the twins open to having a truly glorious, loud, and extremely emotional surprise reunion.

(Aside from knowing it wanted to send Ingo and Dawn’s loved ones back to be reunited with them, Arceus thought it would be VERY funny to have a team of six humans like humans have teams of six Pokemon. Barry and Lucas end up being the other two sent back to Hisui, to reunite with Dawn.)

I have not a lot of details about the meat of this story figured out. The vague outline is Emmet having separation anxiety, Elesa feeling like a weight is lifted off of her shoulders because she no longer has to grieve Ingo while simultaneously keep Emmet going despite his own heavier grief, Ingo having serious identity issues and feeling inadequate because he forgot Emmet while his brother grieved him so heavily, so he doesn’t talk to him about his own trauma and grief and ends up having a mental breakdown eventually that Emmet helps him through, and Volo has found some other legendary from another region that he’s using to try and remake the world again. I haven’t decided which one.

And then once Volo is beat they go home, both twins firmly convinced that their reunion was Arceus granting them their favors early as ya know, Emmet wanted his brother back and Ingo wanted his FAMILY back. Arceus catches on to this and promptly informs them that no, that was part of its plan from the beginning, that it was merely righting a wrong it should have righted long before then, and that their favors are still very much available to them. They do not use them at that time, since they did not expect to still have the favors, and they did not have anything else in mind.

(Elesa asks for her aforementioned one on the spot. At this point she’s so excited to have a much more serious conversation with Skyla about their future, and with her best friend alive and safely home, she’s finally ready for the next step.)

All the weary time travelers are returned to modern Sinnoh. Skyla hops on her plane the moment Elesa calls. They all go to Twinleaf town, Unovans included while they wait for Skyla. Dawn reunites with her Mom.

Skyla is fucking ecstatic when she sees Ingo’s alive, and they fly home to Unova after saying goodbye to Dawn, Barry, Lucas, and Johanna. They specifically fly to Opelucid, thinking Uncle Drayden’s house is a better place for Ingo to readjust to the modern day than their apartment in the middle of bustling Nimbasa City.

They are absolutely correct, but that doesn’t stop the breakdown Ingo has when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he’s home and can rest and not have to worry about his safety in the wilderness with angry wild Pokemon constantly posing threats to his well-being.

But he has his family by his side, who are more than happy to help him through it :3

#pokemon #submas #subway boss ingo #warden ingo #pokemon legends arceus #subway boss emmet #gym leader elesa #vague outline of a story I constantly rotate in my head #akari #dawn #unova #hisui #arceus simultaneously being a bitch but also it does better and rights its wrongs #reunions #reunion #long post

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maximoffromanoffs · 3 months

Text

First Kiss

Today was just another day on set. Or almost just another day.

We were in the middle of filming a movie, one in which I was over the moon to be chosen for the part. Getting to work with Scarlett was a dream, but getting to play her love interest was even better.

But just as that scene (I previously felt so excited about) is coming up, I’m feeling myself getting increasingly more nervous. Having never kissed anyone before, I don’t want to make it bad. I know it’s just for the screen but I still don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Scarlett. I mean it’s Scarlett Johansson.

It’s one of those scenes where we’re speaking, but she cuts me off by cupping my cheeks and kissing me essentially. But they told us to not make it fast, like to let the audience see the decision to lean in for the kiss, before we actually do so.

Yet the moment I feel her hands reach for my face, I panic, grabbing her hands and pulling them off my face for a moment. Uttering my apologies for messing up the scene, Scarlett shakes her head and says “It’s okay y/n, really. You want to try again?” I nod, and we repeat our previous actions, reading our lines, and just as she’s leaning in I can’t help but pull away again.

This time I look to the director asking if I can have a short break, needing a moment to breathe. As soon as I get the nod of approval from them, I take off, stopping on a bench around the corner. I pull my legs up and sit resting my head down on my knees, trying to persuade myself to get over it and just kiss her.

I’m mumbling to myself “Stop being so stupid, just do it, it’s only a scene.” I’m cut off when I feel a gentle hand on my back and I turn to see Scarlett with a worried look on her face.

“Hey honey, is it okay if I join you?” I can’t help the blush that spreads across my face, as I nod to her words.

“You doing okay? I knew something was up because you usually never mess up our scenes.”

I notice she’s looking at me, and can’t help but meet her eyes, until I realise I still haven’t said anything in response to her. I’m just staring.

I’m sure I’m blushing even harder than before as I say “I’m okay. I just um- haven’t ever, you know.”

Noticing I’m getting anxious again, she places a hand on my thigh and strokes her thumb across my leg. “Haven’t ever what, my love?”

I look down to avoid making eye contact as I mumble “I haven’t ever kissed anyone..” as quickly as I possibly can.

There’s a moment of silence, and I automatically assume she’s judging me, I mean most people have their first kiss in school. I know it’s weird that I still haven’t kissed anyone, and that I didn’t mention that when I agreed to be in a romance film with Scarlett, but I really didn’t think it would be an issue for me. Oh how wrong I was.

She breaks me out of my thoughts, when she places a gently finger under my chin, to direct me to look at her face. When I do, she has a gentle smile on her face.

She has such an infectious smile I can’t help but smile back, making her hum, happy she’d made me smile again.

I almost choke when she asks me “You want me to teach you?” She cups my cheeks, as if to not let me pull away this time.

“Deep breath lovey, you’re okay.” I listen to her words and take a deep breath. She leans in a little, pressing a kiss to my cheek, then whispering “Close your eyes.” with her lips still pressed into my skin.

My breath hitches in my throat, as I obey and close my eyes.

I feel her soft breathing against my lips as she's getting closer to my face. Her lips already touching mine as she mumbles "keep breathing" before fully pressing her lips against mine.

It's nothing major, nothing too much, just a simple kiss to make me more comfortable with the scene.

As she pulls away I see her signature smirk spreading across her face as she continues to cup my face and keep me close.

She then asks "Wasn't too scary, huh?" making me giggle while shaking my head. "No, definitely not."

We both stand and decide to head back to set, me feeling a lot more ready for our 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 kiss.

#scarlett johansson #movies #natasha romanoff #scarlett

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ingravinoveritas · 9 months

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Hello there! I hope you are doing well (as well as someone who has completed watching season 2) First of all congrats on moving into a new house! I'm still having lots of Feelings™ to process after finishing the second season.. oh god the acting, the genuine emotions on the faces of both Michael and David this time around... I'm simultaneously radiating happiness and being utterly destroyed. And the increasing intimacy between them in the interviews is not helping matters either... I think (this has been marinating in my head for a while) one of the reasons they are doing this is to physically reassure each other that they are not apart, they are still a team and still on their side, because after the heart wrenching ending of the season, it would have been very hard for them to come to terms with it, as they had put their whole beings, their whole souls into playing Azi and Crowley, which might have made it difficult to draw a line where the characters ended and they begin... So the touches, their body language became a sort of coping mechanism, something which said 'hey, don't worry, I'm still here.. I have not gone away, we're still together' and this makes me wanna cry again 😭

I hope my word vomit makes an iota of sense (English is not my first language by a long shot, so) and I hope you do find some time to rest and have a warm beverage of your choice while unwinding. Stay safe and blessed!!

Hi there! Thank you so much for the congrats on my move, I truly appreciate it. I've actually had a very rough couple of days, as on top of the move, my Facebook account was hacked earlier this week, and it essentially pushed me over the edge and I was crying for much of Monday and felt like I had a crying "hangover" all day Tuesday.

You do not at all have to apologize for your Ask--your English is very good!--and I'm glad to read your thoughts as I make my way through all the Anons still residing in my inbox. Truly, we are fortunate to have GO 2 and Michael and David to focus on, as well as the abundance of interviews we've gotten after months and months of little to no content.

To start: I absolutely agree with you, re: the intimacy between Michael and David in these interviews. It's been so fascinating to see them get more flirty and touchy-feely with each progressive interview (I know we don't know the order in which they were done, but I imagine the flirting/touching increased as the day went on). And while I can definitely see them doing what you described--reassuring each other, touching and being close as a coping mechanism--my feeling is they already did all that last year, probably right after filming That Scene. (There is actually a gorgeous MS/DT fic on AO3 right now that depicts exactly that, and it's definitely worth reading.)

But in terms of all the intimacy and touching in the more recent interviews (from last month), I think what we're seeing is something else. I think Michael and David are beyond the need for reassurance because they are so comfortable with each other and know they're still together, permanently. There's no more of the uncertainty of parting ways after the promo interviews end--only the promise of seeing each other again as soon as both their lives and schedules allow it.

There have been so many moments of telling body language and touches and expressions, but if I had to pick a favorite (well, a few), one would be them walking arm-in-arm onto The One Show:

And the other would be David leaning so far over and draping his arm around Michael in the Amazon Q&A video:

...And of course (and possibly most notable), Michael and David seemingly unconsciously moving closer to each other in the TV Insider interview:

It's so telling that there is no urgency or desperateness to any of this--only comfort and very much that sense of "on our side" that you mentioned. Walking out arm-in-arm as they did in particular adds to that "us against the world" feeling and the not-so-subtle implication that while they were Michael Sheen and David Tennant on the season one press tour, here, now, they are Michael and David. Inseparable, always intertwined, and having so much more of themselves in the characters of Aziraphale and Crowley than in the first season.

So yes, everything you wrote absolutely did make sense, and I appreciate you writing in to share your thoughts with me. I have a lot more thoughts/analysis about GO season 2 still to share, which I hope to do in response to the numerous Anons still waiting in my inbox. Thanks for writing in! x

#yami-no-kokoro #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #good omens 2 #this proves that michael and david's chemistry is what made go what it was #also David calling Michael his 'wife.' again.#i've never seen david be so blatant #saying a lot by saying very little #but more and more it seems like david relies on him and trusts him #they both know exactly what they are doing #tell me again that they're not a couple #ineffable lovers #discourse #gifs by me

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wetcatspellcaster · 2 months

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Do you have any writing tips for newbie fic writers? Your descriptions are gorgeous. Thank you for pieces BTW, it's my favorite 'piece' of writing ❤️

hi anon, thank you for the kind words!💞💞 I'm flattered that I'm someone that you'd think to ask this question, so I'll do my best to answer! I've put my response beneath a keep reading cut to prevent it being a long post :)

I wasn't sure how to interpret this question, so I'll focus on 'technical' (?) tips mostly. Hope any of them help, in some small way!

my main tip to new fic writers is: write, first and foremost, for yourself, and to feed yourself. I've seen this perspective get put through the disk-horse ringer of late, so take it or leave it, or take it with as much of a pinch of salt as you need. But truly, from the bottom of my heart and from my position of sudden newfound popularity, this is the most important lesson I was ever given and so I have to say it. Popularity is not guaranteed. Even a popular fic will have haters and people who think it objectively sucks, and the readers who like you will never be fully pleased with what you've delivered. This could all be very depressing and cause an author to lose motivation.... if you make it the criteria for success in the first place. If you make the criteria for success your own happiness (or perhaps the happiness of you and a few close pals), providing yourself with what you, specifically, want to see, you will probably want to keep writing regardless of all other factors. Produce fics that you want to reread when you need comfort, when you are sick, and when you want to see your blorbos exactly the way you want them. This will make any fic worthwhile to you, regardless of stats, and prevent you from writing things that will suffer if your heart isn't in it! (this doesn't preclude gift fics/prompts! sometimes your heart can be 100% in providing food for others. find your key motivators, and feed that - a healthy amount - if you're trying to get into writing as a hobby!)

Now, onto my writing tips! I don't consider myself an expert and these are more lessons that have helped me, specifically, to improve my writing. But maybe something in here will be of use!

Bc you say you like descriptions... I tend to go into detail only when it's an essential thing that needs to be described. Leave wider details for readers to fill in with their own beautiful mind-palaces, and this gives you permission to go ham on what matters. What is it that matters? maybe it's a piece of the environment (say, a soul jar) or maybe it's just how hot one part of your ship is, in their hot clothes or out of them. If you focus on the important stuff but leave the rest to background, this not only creates a good balance of action to description, but it also shows the reader what they should prioritise in the scene.

I also google '[WORD] synonyms' a lot, for descriptions specifically. Which seems like it might be condescending advice, but it both helps you find different words if you're worried you're repeating yourself, and sometimes confirms that yes. You are using the best word actually, as you were.

Get a good balance of complex/simplistic words, as well as a good balance of complex/simplistic sentences. Sometimes you need a flowery description, sometimes you just need to state explicitly what is happening or the way things are. Tone will shift depending on your balance of these two things, so test the waters and see what works for you!

If you feel like you've written too much dialogue, the answer is probably no, you haven't written too much dialogue - for fic specifically. Most people are reading fic bc they want their faves to interact more. You are giving them more interaction and they will probably love it.

If you find phrases you like in the books/fic you read, it isn't plagiarism to use them so long as you recontextualise them. I'm certain I've used other people's words multiple times, particularly for my descriptions/imagery, and this is totally ok so long as the context is original. If you're worried, or its a whole sentence/interaction you like, examine the sentence/interaction and work out why you like it so much. Is it the sentence structure? Is the character dynamic? Is it the way the kiss plays out? Take the things you find sexiest in other people's writing and find ways to incorporate it into your own work!

I proofread by reading aloud. Yes, I sound mental and unhinged. My cats are worried about me. But this not only helps you catch mistakes, it helps to test the flow of a sentence! If you're ever worried a sentence is too long/a line of dialogue doesn't sound in character, read it aloud! This will help you work out if it's flowing or not, and if it isn't then you'll get some clues as to why!

Don't be afraid to take risks, if you want to take risks! This can apply to anything: being brave enough to put in a joke you're not sure people will find funny, describing something in a way you're worried people will find weird, tackling something from a perspective or POV that you find challenging. This may be a more intermediate tip, but you can start with small risks, and experimenting helps you find your writing voice! Taking risks makes your writing unique :) and I can't explain how much better my writing has gotten since I gave myself specific challenges. You will not get it perfectly write 100% of the time (there are some parts of Pieces that are weak compared to other parts) but it will always help you improve.

#asks #anons #my writing #writing tips #I guess??? i'm really not an expert i truly just read a lot of books and then i vomit words onto a page

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theowritesstuff · 2 years

Text

His Safe Haven

Jamie Tartt x gn!reader

Summary: You have always been a safe haven for Jamie

Warnings: Jamie’s dad, spoilers for s2

A/N: My first Ted Lasso piece!! Look at that!! I apologize for cutting the scene (you’ll understand when you read it) I promise it’s my favorite scene in the entire show but I wanted a moment between Jamie and the reader

General Taglist: @neptuneswritingwork @violetrainbow412-blog

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would be sitting on a couch, cuddled up with Jamie Tartt, watching the newest Spiderman movie, you’d have called them crazy.

You’d definitely had a distaste for Jamie when you’d first met him. He was, in the words of Roy Kent “deep down, at his core, a prick”. He’d constantly get in trouble with his teammates, he’d bully Nate, he even treated his then-girlfriend, Keeley, horribly. Not to mention, he was a PR nightmare. As Rebecca’s personal assistant, you saw everything that went on between him and his teammates.

After returning to the Richmond team from Manchester City, Jamie had begun to grow. You all saw it, and tried to help him along as best you could. He was a better person now, the rest of his team took him back in, even Roy, though he’d deny it, had been glad that Jamie was back.

It had started off with Jamie essentially following Ted around wherever he went. He kept asking the coach to let him back on the team. Then he’d started following Keely around, much to the displeasure of Roy, in search of someone he could talk to. Keeley had told him that he needed to work on himself if he really wanted everyone to welcome him back.

He had come into Ted’s office looking for him, but instead found you, sitting in his coach’s chair. He stood there, a little tense, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I was just looking for coach…” he said.

“Sorry, Ted isn’t feeling well today so he stayed home, but no worries, Coach Beard, Nate, and Roy are still here to run practice with you all.” You told him.

“So what are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be upstairs doing paperwork or something?” He asked you, leaning against the doorframe.

“Well, Ted somehow convinced Rebecca that I should stand in for him at practice. I tried to tell him that I wasn’t a coach, but he said my only job would be to keep spirits high so… woo…” You twirled a finger in the air.

“Right.” He mumbled to himself, then turned and left.

You furrowed your eyebrows, and watched him walk back to his shelf. He pulled something out of his pocket, a small object, then placed it on the shelf.

The boys all left to go to the field once they were ready, you following behind them. You glanced at Jamie’s shelf, and saw a small green army man. It must’ve been what he was fiddling with earlier.

Once on the field, the team started doing their warm-ups, then their drills, then split up to practice as teams. You watch as Roy occasionally calls out “Whistle!”, and tells the players how they can improve.

Jamie seems to be struggling today though. He’s missing passes, he can’t steal the ball from anyone, and he’s hit the rim of the goal several times.

“Oi! Jamie! You need to make sure the person you’re passing to see’s you before you pass!” Roy shouts.

Sam cradles his arm, but gives Jamie an “it’s okay” gesture. Jamie sighs, and runs a hand through his hair.

“God, what would Ted say right now?” You ask yourself.

“Probably something like ‘if you think you can do it, you can do it’.” Coach Beard shrugs.

The practice game continues on, and once again Jamie’s got the ball. He dodging the other players left and right, running toward the goal.

“You’ve got this Jamie!” You know it doesn’t compare to anything Ted would say, but why not?

Jamie steals a glance at you, and whips back to the game. Your cheer for him lit something inside him. He ran faster, kept the ball between his feet, and was now grinning. He kicked the ball into the net, past Thierry.

His team, and even some from the other team cheer, and huddle around him, happy to have their star player back.

Jamie managed to catch you on your way out of the club that day, pulling you aside to speak with you.

“Uh, thanks for the encouragement… It was nice to hear that again…” He says, his feet shuffling awkwardly.

This isn’t the Jamie Tartt you remember, he was hot headed, aggressive, opinionated. This Jamie seemed like he really was trying to be better.

“No problem Jamie. If you ever need someone to cheer you on, you know where to find me.” You laughed, and pointed up at the window to Rebecca’s office.

You had started seeing Jamie more often after that, passing in the hall, coming in at the same time, you’ve even started having lunch together.

You’d alternate days on who got to pick lunch, and you’d just sit across from each other, eat, and talk. You’d learned more about Jamie during your shared lunches.

Apparently he was a nerd, he liked things like Harry Potter and Marvel and DC. He told you that he’d taken the house quiz online and it said he was a Slytherin, but he claims to be a Gryffindor.

He told you about his mother, and how much he cared for her. He said she was the one who got him interested in football, and that he really wanted to make her proud.

When you asked about his dad, Jamie seemed to tense up.

“He’s a dick.” Was all he said, you took your queue to move to a different topic.

Jamie had tried to convince you to start going to the matches, something that you rarely did. You’d usually spend that time doing some paperwork or running some errands Rebecca needed.

“I don’t know, there’s usually work I need to do during the game.” You told him.

“But I need my personal cheerleader in the stands.” He said, taking your hands.

You could feel your face heat up. “I just don’t think I could swing it.” You shrugged, pulling your hands away from his.

“What if I tell her it’ll make her star player even better?” He asked, a smirk on his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure Jamie.” You started making your way back down the hall.

You didn’t mention the upcoming game at all to Rebecca, but apparently Jamie had, because she handed you a ticket a day before the next game.

“Jamie seems to be very keen on your attendance at this game.” She said, a sly smile on her face.

“Yeah, you guys have been hanging out a lot lately, are you two together?” Keeley asked from her spot on the couch.

“No, we’re just friends.” You tell them, putting the ticket in your bag for safe keeping.

“That’s a shame. You guys are really cute together.” Keeley sighed.

You turned to face her. “Wouldn’t that be weird? Me dating your ex-boyfriend?”

“I don’t think so. I’m with Roy now.” She shrugged. “Besides, I think you’ve changed him.”

“What? That’s insane.” You scoff.

“He has been far more tolerable since the two of you have become closer.” Rebecca stated.

“Okay, Jamie and I are just friends. I’m going to the game to cheer him on.” You said, gathering your things.

“Him?” Keely smirked.

“The team. Hims. All of them. You know what I meant!” You rush out the door in an attempt to end this conversation.

“Hey Y/n, you coming to the game?” Jamie asked as you briskly walked past him.

“Yes. Thank you. I really need to get home, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said.

Jamie frowned, and walked back to the locker room.

You’d gotten to the club earlier that morning, in case there were any last minute things Rebecca or Ted needed you to do. You stood outside the locker room, and caught Ted’s eye from his office. You waved him over.

“Hey there Y/n! How’re you doing this fine day?” He asked.

“I’m good, I’m excited for the game, it’s the first one I’ll have ever been to. How’s the team?” You ask him.

He looks back into the locker room, then back at you. “They’re doing okay, pre-game jitters is all.”

You nodded. “Well, I just came by to see if you guys needed anything before I head up to the stands-”

“Actually, there is one thing.” Ted said, a worried look on his face. “Jamie just seems a little psyched out, and I heard you were able to help him at practice the other day, do you think you could talk to him now?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You responded

A wide smile broke out on Ted’s face. “Great! Gimme a second. Jamie! Jamie!” He retreated back inside the locker room.

A minute later Jamie walked out, clad in his blue jersey, white shorts, and yellow knee high socks.

“Ted said you were nervous about the game?” You ask him.

He just shrugs in response. You take his hands in yours.

“Well I’m gonna be in the stands to cheer for you.” You tell him, trying to get some reaction.

“Jamie Tartt do do do do do do, Jamie Tartt do do do do do do” You sang quietly.

This did earn a laugh from him. “Alright, piss off.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile stayed present on his face.

“You’re gonna do great Jamie.” You said softly.

Jamie eyes glanced down at your lips, then started leaning forward. You started to lean in as well, until you heard a voice.

“Hey Y/n!” Sam had poked his head out of the doorway. “Coach is about to give us a speech.” He said to Jamie.

“Good luck Jamie.” You told him, touching his arm. You turned and left down the hallway, on your way to the stands.

Jamie sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

You watched the game from the stands with Keeley and Rebecca. Both of them cheering for Richmond and occasionally calling out to the referee.

You could see the coaches get Jamie’s attention, then simultaneously flip him off.

“What was that about?” You ask Keely.

She just shrugs in response.

You can see Jamie get close to a player from another team before the next round starts. While he’s running with the ball, the other player kicks under his feet, causing Jamie to fall into the grass.

“Referee!” You stand up and shout.

Keeley and Rebecca share a look, giving each other small smiles.

The referee raises a yellow card, signaling that Jamie can try to score from that point.

“Can he do it?” You ask.

“Oh, right, this is your first time watching a real game, yeah Jamie can make a goal from practically the other side of the field.” Keeley told you.

Jamie puts the ball on the ground, then takes a couple of steps backwards. He takes a deep breath, and glances up where he knows you’re sitting. “You’ve got this Jamie!” replays in his head.

You’re on the edge of your seat as you watch Jamie get the ball in the goal with one swift kick. You jump up and cheer with the rest of the crowd. You watch as the rest of the team practically dog-piles on Jamie, and bolt from the stands.

You don’t stop running until you’ve made it back inside the building. The team hasn’t even gotten back yet, so you take a seat in Ted’s office. Soon enough the guys start filling into the locker room. You peek out of the office, grab Jamie’s arm, and pull him inside.

You wrap your arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. He hugs you back just as tightly. When he pulls away, you can see he’s got a grin on his face.

“That was amazing!” You tell him, hands reaching out to cup his face. “You were amazing!”

His cheeks flushed a soft light pink color. “You really think so?” He asked.

Before you could answer, Ted, Roy, Nate, and Beard walked in.

“Hey you two! How come you’re hiding away in here? Go out and celebrate with the rest of the team!” Ted pushed you back out into the locker room, where everyone was still cheering.

You congratulated everyone on the team, and watched Jamie fall into step with the other guys. He had an arm over Sam’s shoulders, and was listening to Dani talk, waving his arms around animatedly.

You left the locker room in search of Rebecca. You found her in her office, looking at something on her phone.

“Hey Rebecca.” You knocked on the doorframe.

“Y/n, is everything okay?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“No! Yes! Everything’s fine!” You exclaimed. “I just wanted to tell you that I had fun watching the game. And to thank you for letting me attend.”

“Well it seems a certain footballer really benefited from having you in the stands today.” She smirked. “I think I would like to have you at all the games, or as many as you can attend.”

“I would like that.” You respond.

From then on, Rebecca would occasionally have you pop in at practices. You’d stand with the coaches, watching the guys do their thing. Jamie would catch sight of you and send you a wink.

You could tell the upcoming game against Manchester City was taking a toll on the guys, especially Jamie. You understood, playing against his old team while on a team he left but came back to must’ve been messing with his mind.

There was a lot of pressure on the team as a whole, going against a team they’d lost against before.

You’d gone to the locker room to wish everyone luck before the game, giving Jamie’s hand a light squeeze.

You were devastated when the team lost, leaving the stands with Rebecca and Keeley. You waited patiently for the boys to finish their talk with the coaches in the hall, when you saw Beard push a man outside. He was older, and seemed to be very upset about something.

“You might wanna come in.” Beard said to you, before going back inside.

You walked in to see everyone almost frozen in place. Jamie stood at the other end of the room, a frightened look on his face. He looked up at you, and you could see the tears gathered in his eyes.

You slowly stepped towards him, then pulled him in your arms. He wrapped his around you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his sobs in your shoulder.

You reached up, and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” You whispered to him.

You took Jamie back to your place that night, and let him sleep over. He told you about everything with his dad, how he’d been abused by him, and how he’d worked so hard in fear of him.

From then on, everyone could tell that things had changed between you and Jamie. They had known that the two of you were obviously hiding feelings from each other, but now they could see that you really were perfect for each other. Jamie brought you out of your shell, while you helped him fight all his obstacles.

You stayed by his side at Rebecca’s father’s funeral, your hand intertwined with his, except of course when each of you had one of Dani’s arms over your shoulders as he tried to walk around, the poor boy had apparently never worn dress shoes before.

As Richmond’s final match of the season crept up, you could tell the team and coaches were starting to get tense with nerves. This was the game that would decide if the team was promoted to the Premier League again.

As much as you wished you could do something to help the team, you knew that it was all up to them.

You spent the morning with Jamie before the match, watching him pick at his food.

“You need to eat something so you don’t pass out on the field.” You told him.

He sighed, and scooped up some eggs on his fork.

“Hey, everything will be alright. Rebecca and Ted really care about this team, there’s no way they’re letting it go anytime soon.” You reached across the table, and took his hand. “And win or not, I will still be here, ready to cheer for you during the next game.”

You drove together to the stadium. You stopped at the door to the locker room. “You’ve got this Jamie.” You stood up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

You left him standing there in shock, a hand where your lips met his cheek. Those were the same words you used that helped him all those days ago. You always helped him. You were always there to support him when he needed you. Jamie knew that he cared deeply about you, but it was in that moment he knew. He knew that it was more than just a friend caring for another friend. Jamie swore to himself that they were going to win that game.

The game was close, and it all came down to a final penalty kick. It was from a point you knew Jamie could easily score. He took a second, turned, and walked over to Dani. He gave Dani the ball, then walked away.

You all held your breath as Dani kicked the ball, launching it into the net. The crowd erupted with cheers.

You, Keeley, and Rebecca raced down to the field. It took Rebecca arguing just a bit, but security let you all through. Rebecca hugged Ted, cheering with him, and Keely made a beeline for Roy.

You searched for number 9 in the jerseys surrounding you. You caught sight of him, just as Colin caught sight of you. He turned Jamie so that he was facing you.

Jamie looked ecstatic. He had the biggest grin you’d ever seen on his face. He ran up to you, and swooped you up into a hug, twirling you around.

Jamie was on cloud nine. What more could he want? His team had just won one of the most important games to them, and he had you, looking up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes.

He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, and firmly pressed his lips against yours. You were surprised for a moment, but wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

The rest of the team noticed your embrace, and a new round of cheers had begun.

Jamie knew that this was the most important moment in his life, surrounded by his team, and wrapped up in you, his safe haven.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso

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