#but I hope I can appreciate the good parts

[cozage]

Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :)  Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream. 

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him. 

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly. 

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them. 

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him. 

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought. 

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him. 

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue. 

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos. 

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap. 

[grace-williams-xo]

RAMBLING THOUGHTS AFTER FINISHING PART TWO. GONNA ADDRESS MY P1 THOUGHTS FIRST. SPOILER WARNING.

1 & 2: I think Debling could’ve worked in the second half, and I’m kinda sad Cressida didn’t get a happy ending. The Creloise fell of a CLIFF after ep 5 but I think it could still be saved

5: no cishet man has ever loved his wife more than Anthony Bridgerton I’m gonna be ill

6 & 12: kanthony’s absence was felt BAD in the finale, I think their reactions to LW were sorely needed. Also Jonny and Simone have both said they’ll be at every sibling’s wedding and stick around for years but they missed Francesca’s??? Also felt their absence too much then. They’re both booked and busy I think we’ll continue to only get a couple episodes a season from them

8: Francesca did get to thrive happy in pt 2 my baby I love her

9: I think they managed to disconnect the mondrich plot even further like 😭 once again, I don’t mind them their plot just feels very empty

10: Pen and Delacroix CONTINUE to be my fave duo I love them so freaking much and they can never get rid of it

13: Portia’s growth this season continued to be 10/10 I loved her and Penelope’s relationship it really showed what it’s like to be closely related to people you oppose and the process of needing to forgive and understand them for your own peace of mind

14: that was not how I was expecting Colin to find out about Whistledown

15: Marcus felt a little rushed in part two but I think I need to watch the whole season together to fully decide

17: this was indeed the longest 27 days of my life I got Covid day after it dropped lmfao

MY ~NEW~ THOUGHTS:

We finally got character development from Cressida and if they write her out I’ll be inconsolable (as will Jessica Madsen)

I hope they paid Golda Rosheuvel good for her feet exposure. Worth more than titties in this economy

I feel the need to tell everyone that £5000 in 1815 is in the realm of £500,000 today and we cannot brush over the fact Penelope has made herself the equivalent of a literal millionaire

Anthony has two moods ‘I’m obsessed with my wife’ ‘I want to win this game’ like it is comical how drastically different his facial expression is in the game of charades compared to pretty much every other scene

Anthony saying the marriage is perfect and not hard work and Kate being like BOY I will humble you,,,, doing the lord’s work I love her so much

At some points I felt like Francesca was fighting Anthony for ‘Violet’s least favourite child’ award lmao

John saying he’s off to look at the wainscotting was unfairly funny

Cressida in the red dress is even better than I imagined fuck even if she’s not gay then I am

Peneloise back together the universe is healing I love my babies all we need now is creloise lovers and peneloise friendship simultaneously I don’t like it being one or the other sue me

However much Brimsley is getting paid isn’t enough,,,, Hugh Sachs the man that you are

I adored Penelope’s wedding dress so much and as bitter as I am still about no kanthony wedding in s2, it felt kind of right somehow for Polin to be the first wedding we properly see in this show

Most of the costumes and makeup feel like they got worse,,,,, big ‘I hired a 14 year old’ energy. I don’t need historical accuracy but I would like a modicum of care and the costume/hair/makeup dept looking at a single historical reference from before 1850,,,, please

We all got the bi Benedict we’ve been asking for and I appreciate it, and recognise that he needed Tilley to explore that, but I still would’ve preferred if they first main queer experience was not a threesome

If they go straight into benophie in s4 (which idk, I’m so torn bc I feel like F, E and B all could work well next season) then I also feel like bi Benedict was just them throwing a bone for 5 mins but meant nothing

The CONTENTIOUS Michaela Stirling,,,,, I was undecided until I saw it but that was the definition of gay panic from Francesca and it worked so well I am so excited.

As your resident peerage expert, it is much easier for women to inherit titles in Scotland than England so I wonder (not that anyone on this show knows anything) if that was a reason they chose Francesca to be sapphic [general peerage info and female inheritance info if you care]

On the above, if they can canonically end racism with one marriage then they can end homophobia with one marriage as well

We all know Eloise was the easy and obvious choice to be the queer love story but part of me does kind of like them not taking the easy route, and them going something more unexpected, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want Creloise/Sapphic El like they had eight children let’s be honest

Finch’s sneeze and Phillips’s “now Varely! The bugs!” were unfairly funny

Everything Lady Danbury said to Penelope about suspecting her and what not felt very in character and you can fight with the wall idc

Did they tell us the name of Polin’s baby boy???

Hyacinth saying she thinks of Gregory as the family pet,,,,, girl you an icon walking amongst mere mortals

Predictions I got right:

Anthony didn’t kill Colin, but “are you gonna duel your own brother” lmao I was on the right track

I knew Polin would win the Featherington baby race and I love that for them (but why were Prudence and Phillipa pregnant most of the season, barely showing, Kate was showing almost immediately, and then in the epilogue the sisters all had baby’s similar-ish ages???? Give the writers room a calendar please)

I SAID FROM DAY DOT THAT THE FURNITURE THEY BROKE FROM SEX WAS A CHAISE I CANT FIND THE POST BUT I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT WHERE DO I COLLECT MY PRIZE SOME OF YOUR GUESSES WERE TRULY FUCKING COOKED

Okay that was too long if you made it this far I’ll make you cookie ily

[copperbadge]

TBH it was surprising when you mentioned you have difficulty knowing how others feel about you. You strike me as an incredibly likeable guy with an interesting life and viewpoint, and it seems your readers feel the same :) . If I lived anywhere near I'd love to hang out (or at least exchange cat pictures), but alas. Anyway, I hope you're having a good day and please give the kits a kiss for me!

Ah, thank you! That's a lovely thing to say :)

That's the curse of rejection-sensitive dysphoria though -- you're just never goddamn sure. Your brain wants to read everything other people say and do in a negative light, but you also know that's not correct. So it's one more axis along which you can't trust yourself.

Being unable to trust yourself is actually a really big part of ADHD. Specialists talk a lot about how people with ADHD can't trust their memory, they can't trust knowledge they've worked to acquire will be there when it's needed, they can't trust their reactions in a crisis, they can't trust their perceptions of others. I know, intellectually, that the people in my life don't remember 99% of the dumb shit I pull, but I remember it all in visceral emotional detail, which makes it difficult to believe in my soul that they don't. Do I remember the dumb shit they pull? No. Does that matter? Not to my stupid dinged-up corpus striatum, which is where the ADHD lives.

Even before my diagnosis I was dimly aware of this issue and so I did a lot of work on myself to make sure that I took a healthy attitude towards this, that I didn't try to manipulate people into reassuring me or lash out if I thought they secretly hated me. I remind myself not everyone will like me and that's okay, I remind myself that people who don't want to spend time with you don't proactively seek out your company.

But what that means is that while I for the most part don't suspect people of baselessly hating me, or at least don't act on suspicion when I do, I also just kinda...never know what anyone thinks. All I can really do is continue to assume the positive, and if that starts to fail, communicate openly about it. Which as coping mechanisms go is pretty healthy, like short of a drastic personality rewiring I'm not sure how I could handle it better, but the struggle is pretty real.

All of which is to say that I do appreciate the ask -- and all evidence in this post to the contrary I am having a pretty great day. It's Friday, the house is clean, I got paid today and I'm going on vacation starting Sunday. And I did just spend half an hour cuddling the kitties. :D

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Gah. You hate the taste. It doesn’t get any better and it feels worse on your skin. There’s something unnatural about human biology. Should that be so slimy?  

You’re not a prude, not mentally, only experientially. The act itself, yeah, it’s kind of hot, but the finale. That’s too much. Not to mention, it wasn’t exactly mutual. None of this is. 

It’s weird, actually. The more you think of it, sat naked under a desk, in the mess of his excitement, you can’t help but analyse the situation you find yourself in. This man articulated a strategic destruction of your life; he messed with your rent, your bank, your job, and now you’re sitting her in his house, perched on your heels like an orphan begging for more gruel. 

You frown as you rub your chin again. Despite the single tissue he offered, you still felt the residue clinging to your skin. You need a shower. Or maybe some clothes. That would be nice. You scrunch up your nose and sneer. 

“What the hell is that face for?” Floyd—Lloyd snips and you look up to meet his gaze through the glass top of the desk, his keyboard blocking out all but one of his blue eyes. Hey, he has nice eyes for a meanie. You’d never tell him because he’s not a very good listener. 

“Nothing, I just...” you shrug and his eye flicks down to the jiggle of your chest. You cross your arms and tilt your head to the side, “can I go wash off or something?” 

“Why?” He challenges. 

Your lips part and a puff of air shoots out. Is he serious? 

“I... I’m not saying it’s your fault or anything but semen smells and I smell like semen, so going by a very basic formula--” 

“Oh my god, you don’t stop. Why can’t you just say anything straight out? Why’s it this nonsense?” He growls. 

“Fair enough, but I’m still hoping to see a sink or maybe a washcloth--” 

He rolls his eyes and closes them. He sits back and puts his hands to either side of his nose and exhales heavily. He clucks as he drops his arms and considers you as he leans against the leather cushioning. 

“You don’t make the rules. Stay.” 

He rolls back up to the desk and starts typing again. You look at the bottom of the sleek keyboard. He’s definitely an Apple guy, the iMac isn’t even the biggest giveaway. He just has that essence to him. He’s one of those guys who claims to be all about the best of everything but really he’s just buying into capitalism. He’s basic; mainstream. 

What is he even doing? Typing, clicking, scowling at the screen. Is he working? What on earth does he even do? Well, if you account for the mustache, the tacky clothes, and shoes without socks, you might assume he’s some sort of salesman. Used cars if you were to go by looks alone and yet his house would suggest more than that.  

He doesn’t look like a lawyer. He could be a tech bro, again, Apple everything. Still, the way he types doesn’t really seem savvy. He’s got the whole chicken peck down pat, jabbing each key with his index finger. So you’re at a loss. What the hell do rich people do? How do they even get rich? 

“Would you stop staring at me like that?” He stops again, another glare through the glass. 

You swallow and shake your head, shifting on your knees as you keep your arms across your chest. 

“Sir, Mr. Jansen--” 

“Hansen,” he grits dangerously. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, sir, please, it’s cold in here, can I get a sweater or maybe you could turn off the air? This time of day, the rate must be ridiculous.” 

His lashes flutter and his forehead lines. His hand closes to a fist then opens. His chest rises and he squares his jaw. 

“You’re distracting me. I’m trying to work.” 

“So maybe I could go somewhere else. It’s a big house--” 

“My house,” he insists. 

“A very nice house,” you offer, “I mean I’m sitting down here, my knees are killing me, I’m shivering, I can’t sit still. You’re not gonna get anything done. I’m agreeing with you. One hundred percent. I’m annoying. A real nuisance so let the leash go a little bit. Promise, I won’t touch a thing--” 

He squints then his eyes flick up as he thinks. His lips thin and he huffs. He brings his fingertips together, elbows planted on the glass desk, and taps them as he hums. 

“You’re lucky you can make me cum,” he grumbles. 

“Ah, but sir, don’t give me all the credit. You’re a very good cummer. An expert, it seems.” 

His nose crinkles and his mouth falls open, for just a second. His cheek dimples and he shakes it away, “what on earth are you fucking on about?” 

“I’m just saying, sir, I don’t know much about the old sausage link but I’m comparing it to the hub--” 

“The hub?” 

“PornHub, I’m sure you know it.” 

He lets out cluck but says nothing else. 

“Anyway, you got what they would call girth,” you gesture with your hands. “Good job, although, maybe it’s more a genetic type thing. Not really something you did...” 

He stares at you for a moment the pushes his knees wide. He takes a breath and slides slightly forward in his chair. You are keenly aware of the twitch beneath his pants. Please, not again. Are their calories in cum? 

“You watch a lot of porn?” He asks, a genuine hint of interest in his voice. The furthest from spite you’ve heard from him. 

“Eh, not as much as some people, I'm sure. I get curious,” you say. “but within discretion. Never wanna go too far down the rabbit hole.” 

He taps his toe and gives a thoughtful angle of his chin, twining his fingers between each other, “what kinds?” 

“Mm, well, I dunno. Usually, I just click something on the front page that doesn’t look too wild. Like creampie is pretty standard, I guess. Doggystyle is usually all over, but the stepdaughter stuff, ick. Not for me, sir. No way.” 

He makes a clicking noise in his throat and slowly reclines in his chair, “you are way too honest for your own good.” 

“Maybe, I guess. In this situation though, what do I get from lying? Besides, I see the stache,” you shoot him with a fingergun then quickly holster it. “You definitely are trawling around. RedTube? Xvideos?” 

“You said you’re curious,” he ignores your question, “you don’t... do anything while you watch?” 

You feel a subtle tickle in your thighs. The casual air turns thick. You’re starting to get worked up. 

“Eh, well, you know... the fingers find a way,” you look away and giggle nervously. “I go on these women’s forums. They say you should know yourself best before you try with a partner. Obviously, I haven’t found my number two yet but I know my way around my captain's chair. I can get to warp speed.” 

His lips curve slowly as you look back to him and you gulp. You’ve said too much. Again. The very reason you fell head first into this predicament. 

“Sir, why are you looking at me like that?” You squeak. 

He chuckles and brushes his fingertips over his bristly mustache, “well, sweet lips, show me the way.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes round. 

“Show me around your captain's chair, as you so eloquently put it,” he demands and wiggles two fingers at you. 

[space-apples]

i buried my teeth in everything good

hi chatters sorry for dying. thanking @dakedo0o @loveroped @angeart and @sunieraes for beta-ing i appreciate you <3

here it is on AO3 x

and if you want to read it here you can do that !!

He’s succeeded his task, and the wind was faintly blowing in his ear, almost sounding like laughter.

He’s succeeded his task, and the sun was just peeking over the mountains. He didn’t even realize he’d gone the whole night without a blink. 

He’s succeeded his task, and the cold air was gnawing against his skin. He could hardly care anymore. 

Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life. Win Secret Life.

He was drowning now, and felt the familiar sense of life being drained from him before arriving back at the Secret Keeper. He stared at it coldly (everything was cold.)

A skeleton was somewhere in the distance. It was shooting at him, but Scar couldn’t be bothered to care. The arrows buried themselves into his skin, but as he bled and whatever remaining life source once again drained out of him, Scar didn’t recognize the pain as much as he should have. All he really felt was numbness, a fucked up sense of relief. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, wishing, hoping, praying for release.

If he died now, he would be gone. He would be free. 

Of course the Gods above cared too much about their entertainment to let him go. So when he opened his eyes, the arrows were gone. The only mark left that showed they were ever there were the scars. More to add to the collection, he supposed, bitterly staring up at the Secret Keeper statue. 

Scar wanted to scream at it, to get TNT and blow the stupid thing to dust and rubble. 

He pressed the button once more, wildly, angrily, and cursing so much that a sailor would cringe away. 

Win Secret Life, it said. As always. He did win. As always. 

Pressing the button over and over again wouldn’t do anything, but he did anyway, something in him snapping. Only getting more desperate and upset with each hit as it gave him more and more books. He didn’t care that his hand was getting splintered, that a nasty bruise was starting to form, that he felt it breaking. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything anymore, he couldn’t focus on caring. Scar just wanted to go home. 

He didn’t even realize when he started rapidly hitting the stone instead, putting so much weight and force into his attacks that the button had broken. When he paused long enough to realize, he swore he couldn’t feel himself breathing anymore. The books were splattered around, his hand was bloodied, and his legs crumbled from underneath him. 

Scar prided himself on being resilient, only crying once or twice after a Life Game. But seeing his own blood on a half beaten rock where the button should have been, feeling the cold air biting at his skin, the awareness that he was irrefutably alone, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do anything in order to go home, shattered any resolve he so wished to keep. 

His hands didn’t seem like his as he laid them, shakily, gently, carefully, on pedestal once more. His whole body shook, wracked with impending doom. He was sobbing, he realized, though the tears never seemed real. None of this seemed real. He couldn’t breathe through it, and some sick part of him hoped that it would continue, that his body would finally collapse and allow him to be detached from this world. 

But maybe he deserved this. 

Maybe with how many people he killed, how many people he made suffer, this was his punishment. A permanent loop, a permanent limbo, forever cursed to be alone. 

Maybe that was the reason for his time here; showing that his destiny, his purpose, his fate, was to be on his own. Where he grew up, it wasn’t exactly an option to talk with other people, and perhaps he got too comfortable in Hermitcraft. Last Life should have been his reminder, his push in the right direction, but he wanted the interaction. The comfort of being near someone was too tempting to turn down. Yet the bite of cold he felt constantly growing up in the apocalypse, it was the same he felt on that horrible mountain in Last Life. It was the same he felt now. He couldn’t escape it, no matter how many blankets or campfires he had, just like how he wouldn’t ever be able to be relieved of the crippling isolation that threatened to overflow and drown him. 

He didn’t know when time started to blur even more, he didn’t know when he started to feel so numb that it felt like he couldn’t move his legs. He couldn’t care for it. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of doing just that. The sun was blaring, it might have stung to look at, yet he just kept staring upward, blankly. There wasn’t much else he could do, anyways. He broke the button. He probably broke his hand too, but he was floating too much to really register it.

He didn’t notice when his legs became anchored to the ground. The hope that the possibility of his opponents (they were friends, they were friends, they were friends) cared enough to come back, to check in on him, was of course foolish. They wouldn’t. It should have bothered him more, and maybe some part of him was uneasy. But a bigger part of him was tired. 

Now, his legs didn’t just feel heavy, they felt like stone. 

And that’s when he noticed he couldn’t sit up. That everything was so much colder. That he was so much more aware of the world. He could make out every grass blade being eaten by grazing animals, the fish wading through the waters, and he didn't even flinch at the desperate snarling of the Undead– the zombies. They were hungry, ravenous, and all he could really do was shift his energy away from it. 

He still felt like he was being stared at, yet he couldn’t detect the stare of the Secret Keeper anymore. It bothered him in the back of his mind. In the dark corners, it felt more than simply wrong. His eyes felt sluggish, but somehow he knew he wouldn’t be able to close them. Now he had to watch, to feel more than the ground below him, the suffocating air around him. It was dark. It was bright. It was hot, but so so so cold. 

All he could do was stare into the sky, watching the sun reach into his peripherals and watch it fade away into a cold night, stars tracing each speck of his vision. It should have been the only thing he saw. He didn’t know how he saw everything. But the statue wasn’t there anymore, it wasn’t watching along beside him. 

He tried to regard it as a good thing. That he didn’t have to feel that prying stare bear into him. But all he could think was that he was now those intrusive, intense, invading eyes. It wasn’t that it was gone, it was that he took its place. He didn’t know if shattering that stupid button was the cause, but he didn’t even mean to break it. He had just wanted to go home.

He can’t even think of how he’d do that now. He barely remembers the faces of his opponents. No, no, they were his friends. Yes, his friends. He couldn’t remember the faces of his friends. They were all muddled and blurry, just like the memories of their time together, hardly resurfacing when he tried to remember. He remembers a boat pole? Bluebells— no, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t frame it correctly, but akin to. A flower of sorts, poisonous to something. He remembers vague things about vexes, though they were just a– a mob with no real significance. He can’t quite... God, why can’t he remember. They were his friends, he said it himself, they were kind and funny and. He wished he could remember more about them other than their bloodshed, than their violence. There were pieces he was missing.

(He misses them. He needs them. He doesn’t know why he’s here, why he’s had to isolate and disconnect from everyone he knew for the sake of Watching. But it isn’t his job to question it, if he could even do such a thing. At least not anymore.)

Time passed on, he knows it’s passed on. There’s little, in this world at least, he doesn’t know at this point. But as far as the people who are gone, the people he killed, he doesn’t know where they are now. How long it’s been for them. He knows there’s not much he can do about it. There’s not much they can do to save him. He thought, he hoped, the numbness was back.

He didn’t know how much he even felt anymore, he wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling. So why, why, is there so much dread in the pits of his stomach. Why is there nausea building in his body, his head throbbing with a migraine. Why did his fear come back all at once, his disquiet of being so utterly alone solitary abandoned abandoned abandoned being seemingly worse than before. It’s not like it ever left, but if it did, it came back stronger than it ever was prior. He didn’t mind being numb, really. He half-heartedly wished for it back. He vaguely realized in his mind he won’t be going home anymore. And this wasn’t at all what he wanted. To be trapped in a never ending loop of pain and pressing buttons was hardly on anyone’s bucket list. He didn't even know what he wanted now, other than to simply rest. 

Though now he figured this was why he was here. Why wouldn’t they want someone already contiguous to not one soul— someone so bloodthirsty— in their grasp. Playing their sick games until he could only regurgitate futile means of escaping. Watching for them. Commanding for them. Succeeding for them. Maybe he should have felt horrified at the prospect, and maybe he did, but if it wasn’t at the forefront, he could hardly be expected to feel anything other than that flooding sense of numbness. Maybe he didn’t want to be here. Maybe he did. It didn’t matter now. He had a job to do. 

He succeeded his task, and it was then he noticed the button on the stone pedestal was back. It was nicer than the old one. Engraved in markings he recognized. It was the traditional Elven designs that coiled around harsh stone, though he could already feel the connection to his identity fading away.

He succeeded his task, and yet when he tried to reach out for it, he couldn’t move his hand anymore.

He succeeded his task, and now he’d be making sure when others came along, they’d succeed too. 

He could vaguely remember that he was Scar, but even that was fading from his mind. Now he was the keeper, the beholder, the Successor of the thing that was here before.

.

. 

. 

.

.

They had no idea how long they were trapped in there. They tried to glance around, and though they could technically see, they couldn’t See, not how they were used to. They didn’t wish for it back. Or perhaps they did. But the harsh transition made it difficult to look around at all.

They knew they were not envious of their replacement— though it was still hard to grasp that they could feel, really feel again. The sensations latched onto them like they'd always been there; like it was coming home— but they couldn’t remember anything to match it, or anything at all. It had been too overwhelming to have so many of them, to notice and detect sensations other than stone and that icy cold that swallowed them whole.

 It had been far too long to even remember their name. They were trying awfully hard as well, to remember the identity they had left behind. Before all the buttons, before all the colored names and hopeless faces showed, before all the cravings of violence just to get a sick taste of what being angry meant. They had a life, surely. 

They looked down at their new body. This one couldn’t have been their old one– Staring into the reflection they remembered the face of their Successor, eyes still red and running rampant on Red Life urges. They weren’t in that world, and yet. They wondered if the bloodshed would ever stop.

 It was rather warm here, they noticed, but for some reason they could still sense that bite of cold they felt as the Keeper. 

They didn’t quite know where they were, but they could hear someone approaching. They almost expected a button to be pressed, for them to make a request. Of course that didn’t happen here, and instead a voice called out. 

Excited, concerned, afraid, afraid, afraid—

“Scar, oh my god.” The person, upon seeing them, ran over much faster than they had expected. And to their own surprise, they recognized their– her– voice. She was hard to forget, really, because admittedly, she was one of their favorites. The Newbie, the first to truly find the End in their domain. (Their old domain. It wasn’t theirs anymore.) One with such promise, such potential. Of course now they’re rather glad she didn’t win. “Scar, where have you been?”

They forgot they were in place of the Successor, they forgot that was even his name. They tried to open their mouth to respond, but it turns out after spending what felt like centuries with their mouth made of literal stone, it was a bit harder to get words out. They were sure it’d be raspy anyway, from the misuse.

They remembered her name now, and vague recollections of Scar’s memories came back from when they Saw him. Her name was Gem. 

Gem frowned at his silence, and Scar– not Scar, they’re not Scar– tensed, worried that they’d already be found out within five seconds. 

“I won’t– I won’t push you into talking, Scar,” she said, to their surprise. She surveyed them with such concern that it made them discern… something. Guilt? Embarrassment? She continued, spurred on by them remaining silent. “It’s just– you’ve been gone for almost, uh, two months now. I think.”

They didn’t have to pretend to shudder at the time frame. 

It had been way longer than just two months.

Honestly, they really did try getting their mouth open to speak, to demand, but all they could manage were raspy grunts. Gem winced, yet kept her relatively calm demeanor. 

“It’s okay, I don’t want to force you.” She reaches over slowly, maybe so that if they wanted to back away, they would. They didn’t. It could have been because moving was so unknown, unfamiliar. Or because they regarded Gem as more than just trustworthy; as safe.

The touch burned before it felt like a regular mortal being was actually holding them. She gently encouraged them to move forward, for them to follow her, a smile now plastered on her face. 

 “Come on, Scar, let’s get you home, yea?” 

Home. 

In their last moments before the Successor took over, they remembered his last thoughts were wistfully praying that he’d be let go. Back to wherever here was, where they could pretend his past was long gone and have fun and play— not dangerous— games. Where they could have just a little company. 

The memory made them feel like something was twisting in their gut, their throat closing up with such a tightness it felt like they were forgetting how to breathe. They didn’t remember what that feeling was. But they needed to get rid of it, and Gem’s words were so warm, such a drastic change from the icy wind clawing at each part of them, threatening to freeze them over. 

Gem’s offer didn’t seem to hold the same malice, but when they tried to see into it, see her intentions, they were swiftly reminded their abilities were no longer with them. The similar sensation in their gut came back, and it screamed and yelled at them to run, to get far away. Logically, though, if they were to run, Gem would most likely catch them a lot easier than they’d like to admit. They were not used to having legs that— more or less— work. And if she wanted to kill them she would have already done so. 

So they nod, following her carefully after she takes her hand off their shoulder. She let go, and it still felt like it was there, still felt like it was burning, still felt like it was there to keep it burning. Gem’s touch wasn’t bad, at least they didn’t think so. They hadn’t had any contact with anyone or anything for so long, and perhaps that was why it felt so sudden. So much. They tried to trail behind her as best they could, only becoming more overwhelmed with each step. 

They’re not familiar with so much of this, so many textures, so many potential people around, so many so many so many—

It wasn’t her fault, really. 

She just kept leading on, adding little comments here and there. It was hard to keep paying attention to her when she wasn’t the only one making noise. Grass crunched from underneath them, water was crashing a little while away, Gem’s armor was rattling against itself with every step, there were probably people in the distance, not bothering to keep their voices down. 

Their vision got blurry after a while, their legs felt like mush. They didn’t think it had been that long, though that didn’t make them feel better. They could barely make out Gem’s face, her antlers being the only thing that they could really see. 

Everything was spinning around them, going too fast. Or it could have been that they were going too slow. It hurt to keep their eyes open, but the worry that if they closed them now, the worry it’ll be like before made them try so very hard to not blink.

And despite their best efforts, they felt the impact of hitting the ground before anything else.

And despite themself, they knew their eyes were rolling back into their head. 

At least it wasn’t everything all at once, but now it was— once again— nothing. 

.

.

.

.

They woke up, not expecting to be able to feel the softness of whatever they were laying on. They were laying down as well, a position they hadn’t been able to be in before. Though they half expected to be frozen like that, it was certainly a lot more comfortable now than it used to be. They didn’t try to move, at least not for a while, unsure they even could. 

They were talking about them. Not them. Well, maybe it was them technically, but it was still about Scar. The Scar they knew.

“—Just overwhelmed, maybe,” a voice— they could recognize once more as Gem— said, most likely contributing to a conversation that had already started. “I don’t know. He’s been gone for months.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m aware, Gem.” 

Grian. That voice belonged to Grian. They didn’t have the same excitement towards the man as maybe some of the Others did. They didn’t want to like Grian, and as much as They tried to make them favor him, they had leaned towards Gem. 

They thought she’d be smart enough to figure it out. Clearly, they had thought wrong.

They still weren’t moving, afraid to even try, and instead waded through the waters of their mind, through every crevice of newfound sensations, newfound thoughts. It still felt they weren’t their own, as if they were still rifling through someone else’s head. 

They couldn’t tell if they still felt like it was burning, and they were once again worried they were back there again because even with however many sensations their body may have been experiencing, it still felt so far away. 

They realized they were shaking. 

Which was good, they thought. Good that they could move, at least. They couldn’t think much of anything else when trying to refocus on Gem and Grian, whose voices had become slightly raised. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she huffed, inhaling sharply. “I am glad he’s back, I was just— concerned.”

“We all had this after the first Death Game, Gem. Scar shouldn’t feel more violent than, you know, he usually is.”

“But his eyes— even if they weren’t red— they were so empty.”

“Winning a game can be a lot. And Scar was by himself that whole time, even before his, uh, extended hiatus. I think we both know that Scar being alone isn't his favorite thing in the world.” 

“You— Okay, I can see that. I mean I think the Death Games can be a lot for anyone, just on its own. But sure.” She let out a long sigh, as if she hadn’t taken a breath throughout that entire conversation. “I care about him too, Grian. It’s not just you.”

They were both silent for a moment, and for a small second, they thought they had walked away. That was until Grian spoke.

“I know.” His voice was so soft, almost a whisper. “I know. I just— Let’s just make sure to make something fun for when he wakes up. Or at least a cup of water.”

Gem lets out a hum of agreement, and they can’t help but feel that pain in their chest. One that seems bad at first, yet seems to feel more comforting. Even as they hear the door being opened and closed, it remains.

It’s a feeling that, although they barely remembered anything, they know they craved and strived to have it. The feeling of being cared for, of knowing that you’re cared for. 

It was ridiculous, especially as they weren’t even Scar. It was only a matter of time before they found out, before they kicked them right back out for very justifiable reasons. And yet it was hard to deny the temptation of staying, just to feel wanted for even a little while. To have a connection with a real person, a real being. They know it won’t last, as things usually do, but they didn’t see why they couldn't savor this. 

It’s not theirs to savor, they know this. But there’s no one else to provide that connection to them anymore. Even if there was, they don’t remember. It’s frustrating how much they don’t remember, how much they remember about Scar more than they remember about themself. 

They knew they should say something, but the thought of being cast aside was enough to replace the feeling in their chest with a much heavier weight. 

They knew they weren’t Scar, but for now, they could pretend. 

They knew they would be forced to leave eventually, but for now, just for now, they could stay.

[mylordshesacactus]

The Barrissoka Fusion You Never Knew You Wanted

So in celebration of FINALLY rounding out the originally-planned slate of barrissoka Disney AU/fusion challenge fics, I thought I'd put together a masterlist for those of you who are new, returning, or just never got around to them when they were first posted!

By sheer good luck, there are an even split of AU types--three fusions (ie, Star Wars characters adapted to a non-GFFA setting), and three alternate timelines (where the core setting is the same, but events developed differently--in this case, in a way analogous to the core plot of the movie the challenge was based on.).

Fusions

Through The Darkness And The Shadows

Setting: Fantasy-Medieval AU: Beauty and the Beast

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young princess lived in a shining castle…

It'll Sound Like A Promise

Setting: Fantasy-Medieval (Scotland Redux) AU: Brave

A clan leader’s heir had to strive for perfection. That was why Ahsoka was currently hiding in a tree.

Look To The Sky With Hope

Setting: Pirates/Fantasy Age of Sail AU: Pirates of the Caribbean (62k, 5 chapters)

Anakin Skywalker. Every sailor knows that name. Captain of the ghost ship Twilight, ferryman of the dead. Some say he preys on merchantmen, out of vengeance for the loss of his ship and crew; others that he and the charred black phantom are an honest sailor's friend, a protector in the dark and the mist. According to Ahsoka, the truth is both and neither. But the Twilight is...well, it's not real. Barriss Offee may be new to this whole pirate thing, but she knows that. It's a legend, a story, a sailor's superstition; like mermaids and Fridays and the Kraken. The ship of the dead and its captain, they're just a myth. Aren't they?

Alternate Universes

Going My Way?

AU: Aristocats Podfic: By Writers_Block, available here.

Shipwrecked and stranded on a remote agricultural planet, Barriss Offee doesn't dare reveal her identity as a Jedi for fear of drawing unwanted attention that might endanger the younglings in her care. Enter the charming, compassionate young spacer Ashla, who drops everything to take the group under her protection and asks nothing in return, as Barriss grows more and more unhappy with the necessity of lying to a young woman who's been nothing but honest with them. Meanwhile, Ahsoka Tano and her master are on an undercover mission. She really wishes she could tell the scared young mother she's taken in that she's a Jedi, but, well. The mission has to come first.

Back To The Wind

AU: Cars. (I cannot emphasize enough that this is an AU and not a fusion. They are not cars. They are people. For the love of god. It's just a plot adaptation. Please stop asking me if they're supposed to be cars.)

A hyperdrive malfunction strands Ahsoka in a nearly-abandoned trading settlement in the Outer Rim. That's not the problem. While she works off her community service sentence, she ends up in the unofficial custody of a weirdly hostile Mirialan who won't stop giving her these long, searching looks and talking about the failures of the Jedi Order like she knows something Ahsoka doesn't. That's not the problem either. The problem is...Ahsoka's starting to wonder if she really wants to go back.

When These Moments Have Passed

AU: The Fox and the Hound

Jedi Master Plo Koon was sent to Shili to retrieve a Force-sensitive youngling...and arrived just a few hours too late. Years later, a Jedi padawan and an indentured bounty hunter find themselves in the same spaceport. They shouldn't be friends, not really, but...they're more alike than they are different, straining under the weight of roles they can't escape. That bond is stronger than the galaxy's expectations. Until it isn't.

Bonus

While these are NOT part of the very specific "I can turn any classic Disney movie into a barrissoka AU, fucking try me" original challenge that spawned all this, they're some very nice AUs and if you're into AUs in general, you'll probably appreciate:

Iced Offee, Caramel Twist

AU: Coffeeshop AU

(What? Someone had to write it.)

Mirror, Mirror

AU: Sith AU

(Series/Duology)

[bambisspeckles]

Before I Sleep (Snippet/WIP)

CW: reader drinks beer, simon is kinda creepy and gross (hes just awkward D:), mildly edits (as of right now), i think thats it!

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

Snippet 1 <3

"Sorry… Didn't mean to scare ya. Seemed like you er' havin a hard time so I just bought em' for you.." Despite the fact that this man could snap you in two he almost seemed like he was out of place in the conversation, like he didn't belong in it. Ironic because he started the exchange. Either way you're not sure if you should run or stay put.

There's a few more seconds of silence before you finally speak, to you it almost feels like hours.

"Um, thank you.. I mean that was- It was kind of you to do that." You reach out to grab the beers before stopping your arm mid reach. Should you really be taking beers from some random guy? I mean he said he was in the store at the same time as you but you didn't even fucking see him! Your arm flails around in the air a bit before you just say 'fuck it' and grab the beers from him. A soft but hesitant smile graces your lips as you look up at him.

"Thank you again… I really do appreciate your um, kindness." He grunts in acknowledgement. The man doesn't seem very fond of speaking you note.

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

Snippet 2 <3

Simon doesn't want you to leave, not yet.

He awkwardly attempts to make some sort of conversation to keep you longer. He doesn't want to scare you off just yet, despite the fact that he's tempted to scoop you up and take you to his home right now. He doesn't think he's doing a good job of keeping you here though, you seem a bit uncomfortable, maybe even a tad bit frightened. Simon hates that it makes his heart pound a bit, he almost wants to tell you to run from him, that he's practically as bad as the men who lurk in the shadows.

He introduces himself to you, trying to stall time, he tells you he lives a few blocks down and then asks you if you've moved in recently. His question makes you squirm. God he wants to make you squirm again.

"Um no, I don't live here… My erm, boyfriend lives around here." Is what you'd told him, then you say something else he didn't quite catch before you scurried off into the night.

He takes note of the awkward and unsure way you said 'boyfriend.'

─── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅𐀔⋅⋆ ──────

I am once again apologizing for my lack of activeness.. I hope these snippets can hold you over until I have time to finish the last part of the fic <3 Maybe i can write a quick drabble too... we'll see! Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and as of right now requests are on <3

[t0ast-ghost]

Hmmm mmmmmm I have so many boys thoughts and since I’m not sleeping tonight I guess I’ll write them down:

(Spoilers for the Boys season 4. Don’t cry over spoiled milk show! Go watch it for yourself)

- Truthfully I didn’t like Hughie in the second episode they just made him (super forcefully) bring up his mom. I did really like all his other bits though especially the stuff we’re getting into with a-train (really hope they actually go through with giving him plot, since he’s supposed to be the main character and all that or whatever)

- every time a character got close to another I legitimately asked if they were gonna kiss

- butcher is my wet cat sad puppy murdering babygirl, he’s slaying this season by actually communicating and I hope it stays that way

- This is the second time I’ve seen Jeffrey Dean Morgan play a horrible person willing to weaponize children for their cause… and he’s good at playing that part (I feel they gave his character a lot of what Butcher was in the comics)

- I really do like what they’re doing with A-Train

- I really do hate what they’re doing with Annie and Firecracker, I get they have to have personal conflict but this feels shallow and although it’s believable that this grudge would last I think there should have been more thought put into the stakes of their relationship (Curry and Moriaty’s acting was so good for the bit where Firecracker threatens her but the stakes are so low and the hatred in the writing doesn’t feel built up enough for her to have that big of a reaction to the threat)

- Going back to Hughie and his mom, I think Quaid’s acting for the bits with his mom were phenomenal, I could relate to his frustration and his sadness was palpable. I think a lot of their moments didn’t feel great and I couldn’t put my finger on it but the conversation about how her depression lead to her leaving felt like the truth finally came out and now it’s hopefully going to feel a bit more like things are moving forward for them

- I’m a little surprised they actually had a character like splinter. Simply because he felt straight out of the comics, and I know how much they’ve veered away from the comics. I really liked the scene where Butcher got to take out a bunch of them simply cause he got to be good ‘ol Billy Butcher

- Homelander has me on a roller coaster because I was going to write a post while watching about how they write him really well in a mindfuck kind of way because you slowly start realizing you’re relating to his character and you can understand his actions, and right before I wrote that post he told the deep to suck off a train and I stopped dead in my tracks. I was legitimately scared in that moment because that also felt like something out of the comics but the difference is that the tv show wouldn’t or at least didn’t go through with it

- Homelander this season is even more brilliantly acted, and seeing him with Sage is a new interesting experience. I was trying to figure out Sage’s motivations and I thought I knew but really I didn’t know because I was trying to say she was fighting for a cause. That is wrong. She is constantly manipulating the people around her but it is solely to benefit herself and her happiness. Yes, she helps Homelander and is honest with him because that is the best way to keep herself happy and alive. She’s smart enough to know that manipulating him or trying to agree with everything he says will be a dead end. She’s still trying to please him and is ultimately playing by his rules but she’s the smartest player because she knows being inauthentic will only end up losing you power, and if you’re on the end of two hot glowing red orbs anyway, why not at least have an actual say

- The gore is going well so far. I’ve appreciated it. Especially the beetlejuice-esque scene where Kimiko has her face torn off and you only see the back of her head and the reactions

- Ryan has so many good scenes. His scenes with Homelander are punctuated by quiet, you can hear every thought screaming through, but what would saying any of it actually accomplish? His scenes with Butcher are so heartfelt, I’m glad they’re finally able to talk. But Ryan still dealing with his grief and guilt is heartbreaking. And on top of that him thinking that the closest person to his mom seemingly hates him and would never want him adds so much to the emotional confusion that he’s experiencing. He obviously needs to leave Homelander, but he still doesn’t want to leave his dad which makes sense because this is currently the only source of love he has from anyone and it was promised unconditionally (even though it is very conditional)

- Frechie’s gotta tell that guy that he killed his family but I was really glad they gave him a boyfriend. I forgot that him and Kimiko weren’t a thing so I got really excited that Frenchie was getting to be awesome and polyamorous. I am glad that Kimiko has asserted that they are friends tho

- I am so intrigued by the brain worm

Thoughts upon second rewatch:

- Opening could’ve been bloodier or more horrific. They toned it down :( but the flesh and blood melting off that guys face was pretty good. And the Todd scene is pretty horrific.

- The way Ryan and Homelander speak in unison about people being ants is so telling, and makes sense with the later context of Homelander wanting Ryan to be an exact replica of himself

- The way that Ryan in this season is so focussed on fear, because he is scared but the people around him won’t admit to that, so when Butcher finally communicates with him and tells him that he’s most afraid of dying without making amends I think that finally gains Ryan’s trust back

- They really are changing Butcher’s character, he’s not just ‘do thing to get thing and it’s justified by the end result’ he’s finally thinking about the people around him and considering them even if the results aren’t fast. He doesn’t give the info to Vick, he doesn’t drug Ryan, and he’s really trying to help even if he is still being a shit about it

- The talk between Vick and Homelander in the opening is sooooo good cause of HL’s little voice crack, he’s losing it

- KIMIKO PAINTS HER NAILS!!! they’re blue :)

- I feel like Hughie’s hatred towards Vicky is forced upon him. Like I guess he hates that she lied to him (but if he thought about it he’d realize that it’s reasonable for her to want to hide her powers especially since she’s been shamed about them for most of her life) and I get they have very different views with her under vought’s thumb and all. But since they’re recruiting A-Train I’m wondering if there’ll ever be a bit of a redemption for her cause I feel like wanting supes to be allowed to live like normal people is not a bad thing, it’s just that she’s working with people who view supes as superior

- “He killed that poor cunt in broad daylight, and they fucking cheered.” Alongside Homelanders “I save people, they cheer. I fucking kill people, they cheer.” is like, they both understand this fact. Homelander will get what he wants no matter what and Billy wants to take him down a notch. Same as always and yet so many changes.

- I missed that the acid that Hughie threw on Vick was Frenchie’s creation the first time around. Also missed Hughie’s failed pep talk, I love that loser. I didn’t miss that no one else is able to understand Kimiko, which sucks

- I want Karl Urban and Simon Pegg to be in the same room again but that’s just my star trek fan talking

- Is that the first time Hughie and Butcher properly hug in the series?

- There’s a weird obsession with phones this season. Especially with hanging up on people. Also an obsession with “no/yes, sirs” which I think is them upping the show of power dynamics

- I thought that octopus sounded familiar. It’s Tilda Fucking Swinton.

- “He always knew he was destined for greatness, because he came from greatness.” Good job guys. I see your little joke

- I did not notice that all the guys setting up Firecracker’s stage were splinter who is played by Rob Benedict (Chuck in Supernatural)

- One of the background noises at the Truthcon mentions an “Alex Jones look alike contest”

- When Ryan throws Koi against the wall in other shows that would be his turning point. The point in which there’s no going back for him. So I’m really glad that it’s just the point in which he needs to talk to someone, that it really does upset him. Unfortunately he goes from one horribly emotionally repressed man to a slightly less emotionally repressed man who is dying

- I hope whoever that person that Kimiko knows turns into a new found family member

- M. M slowly realizing why Butcher was such a bitch to everyone on the team. And it’s because no one listens. Ever. Unless you’re actively threatening them in one way or another

- I don’t know what that bloody metal rod in Sage’s room means even after a rewatch. So I guess I’ll find out.

- Closing thoughts; bring in more A-Train and Hughie moments (also get people to call him Reggie so I don’t have to write A-Train every time)

Hughie has weed in his desk

If y’all wanna talk about this with me (especially after reading all that) feel free to do so

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 5

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Here be smut. 😊 Light oral (m receiving), handjob, conversations about sex.

Word Count: 3,751

A/N: Here's Ch. 6. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag List

Dean watched Y/N's chest rise and fall and felt the warm air escape from her slightly parted lips onto his shoulder where her head lay. Her lashes lay fanned against cheeks - cheeks that seemed pale, as though she wasn't getting enough rest. He let her sleep longer than he wanted; she seemed to need it and it allowed him time to study her features and imprint them in his memory. 

He'd be gone tomorrow, at noon. He had no idea when he would get back here. He never visited more than once a year at most. His family's business was very demanding and time consuming, and he needed to be in New York to run it. But as he brushed his finger down Y/N's cheek, he suddenly wished he could stay longer…much longer.

Or even better, he wished Y/N would reconsider his offer to be his mistress. Then he could come to see her several times a week, maybe more if she was amenable. He didn't want to upset her though, in their last hours together, so he decided to keep that hope to himself.

He was grateful, when she stirred and her eyes opened. There weren't many hours left.

She was clearly confused as she opened her eyes and didn't recognize where she was right away. When she looked at him though, he could see memory dawn, and chuckled at the predictable blush that bloomed in her cheeks.

She sat up slightly, pulling the sheet up higher to cover herself. "How long have I been sleeping? What time is it?"

"You've only been out about an hour. It's nearly two o'clock." He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She ducked her head. "I should go. I shouldn't have stayed."

He ran his knuckles down her bare arm. "Is that what you really want?"

She looked up at him and hesitated before answering. "No, it isn't."

"What do you want?" He asked, desire flooding his gaze.

A million emotions crossed her face, too quick for him to read them properly.

"I have a question."

He nodded.

"How long does it take to know if I'll have a baby?"

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Well, I know women carry babies for 9 months, but how long before I can tell if I'm with child?"

Dean's frown deepened. "No time at all. I can tell you right now. You're not with child."

Her eyes widened. "How can you tell?" She looked down at herself, looking under the sheet at her stomach as though looking for a message there.

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Because we didn't do what we'd need to in order to make a baby."

Her head snapped up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Y/N, what do you think has to happen to make a baby?"

She blushed harder. "A man and woman take off their clothes and lay in bed and the man does something and hopefully a baby comes. At least, usually it's hopeful when the man and woman are married."

Dean put his hand to his mouth, and studied her. How had she gotten to the age of twenty-six without knowing the basic biological necessities of procreating?

Y/N turned to face him more fully. "So, do you mean, that what you did to me," her skin was on fire, "that wasn't the marriage act?"

"The what?"

"The marriage act. I only know a little from friends at school. That's what they said had to happen to make a baby, and Mrs. Oliver called it the marriage act. Is that not what it's called?"

Dean pushed a hand through his hair and tried not to laugh. "Well, we're not married, so it wouldn't make sense to call it that. But no, what we did was not the marriage act, and no babies will result from it."

Y/N looked distinctly relieved for a moment before looking puzzled again. "So, if we didn't participate in the marriage act, does that mean…am I still chaste?"

Dean didn't think chaste described her screaming release of an hour ago, but he didn't want to embarrass her, so he just nodded. "Yes, you remain a virgin. That's why I did it that way."

"There are other ways to do it?" The question seemed to pop out of Y/N's mouth before she could stop it because she clapped a hand over her mouth and ducked her head again. "I'm sorry, what a question to ask."

But Dean answered anyway. "Yes, there are many, many other ways of making love."

In spite of her fiery blush, Y/N asked, "Is that what you call it? Making love?"

"Well, there are a lot of other things it's called too, but that's one."

Y/N nodded and then grabbed hold of his hand.

"Dean, could you teach me about making love?" She must have been startled by the heat and desire he knew flooded his expression because she quickly amended her statement. "I mean, could you tell me about making love? I have no one else I could ever ask, and I'd like to know."

Dean had no idea what to say. He was quiet for a minute and Y/N shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's a horrible question to ask. I'm sorry."

"No, Y/N, don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for, I just…" he paused for a moment, "…I've just never talked about it with a woman."

"So, you don't talk when you're making love." It was a statement and she sounded like she was taking notes.

"Well, I mean, yes, you talk, but not…" He shoved a hand through his hair. "…usually the conversation isn't so…it's just a different kind of talking."

Her expression was innocent and questioning and he cleared his throat, determined to answer the questions she had.

"Alright so, I don't know how well I'll be able to answer all your questions, but I'll try. Go ahead." He braced himself.

Only two bright patches of red showed in her cheeks when she asked again, "How are babies made?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Well, men have a…" he cleared his throat and started over. "Women have…" he raked his hand through his hair again. This was a very strange conversation to be having. He realized he needed more information.

"Y/N, what do you know? I mean do you know what a man looks like?" he asked. "I mean, the parts you don't usually see." He amended.

She gestured to his torso. "Just what's in front of me." She said, smiling shyly.

"So, you've never seen a naked man, not even in a painting? Or a sculpture?"

She looked away, and gave a small shrug. "There weren't a lot of paintings or sculptures like that at my school."

He grinned. "I guess not. But since you've been out of school?"

She looked at him again. "I haven't exactly gone looking for them."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

Her face brightened. "Oh, I did see a painting of a naked cherub once."

Dean couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. She smiled and looked sheepish.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, really. I just can't imagine many men would want a woman to believe they resembled a naked cherub."

She rewarded him with one of her adorable wide grins. "No, I imagine not." She reached up and ran a hand from his shoulder down to his elbow, her grin melting away into a look of hunger. "And I can't imagine anything that looks less like a cherub."

She studied his body for a moment and her gaze alone made his already hard cock feel close to bursting. She pulled her hand away and tucked the sheet more firmly around her. Dean tried to force his body under control.

"So," she said, trying to bring them back on track, "you were saying?"

"Right." He cleared his throat. It seemed very dry all of a sudden. "So, men have a…uh…a kind of…um…" He looked at her face, and came up with the best word he could to describe it. "They have a shaft."

Y/N's face was quizzical. He continued. "And women have…well, I mean you know what your own body looks like." Her face looked confused now. "I mean, you know what…I mean, surely you've looked at yourself."

Comprehension flooded her expression along with a lot of embarrassment. "No, of course not. I mean, not really." She was acutely embarrassed and she wouldn't look him in the eye. "I mean, of course I've never looked, it's…well, it's sinful!" She exclaimed, as though he was mad for not realizing that.

It made him very sad to hear her say such a thing and he took her chin in his hand to force her to focus on him. "Y/N, it's your own body. It is literally the body God created for you, how on earth could it be sinful to look at it?"

While she tried to absorb his words, he decided to just tell her straight. "So, men have a shaft and women have an opening into their body. It's the opening that babies come out of," he paused, "and I suppose the opening where they're put in as well. Men have a um…a seed that comes from their shaft and they put their shaft into the woman's body and plant their seed. A baby grows from there."

He wasn't sure that was the best explanation, especially because Y/N looked slightly horrified.

She opened and closed her mouth several times before managing to speak. "So, if I want a baby, I have to let a man stick a shaft into a hole in my body." Her face was scrunched up and full of disgust. He had to admit that when it was summed up that way it did not sound very pleasant. He decided that if he didn't want to leave her completely terrified he should clarify things a little.

"I know it sounds very…mechanical and cold, but it's not when it's happening." He moved closer to her on the bed and cupped her cheek. "It's just like earlier, when I touched you and tasted you, it's the same kind of heat." He bent his head and kissed her slow, and sweet. She responded immediately, trying to deepen the kiss. But he pulled away; he wasn't trying to start her desire up all over again. "See, not cold or mechanical."

She raised a hand to her mouth and shook her head, a little sadly he thought. "No, not cold." She smiled softly.

She looked into his eyes. "Can I…" she paused for a moment. "Could I see it? See you, I mean?"

His blood started pumping overtime and he shifted away from her again. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Her face was suddenly flooded with red and she shook her head quickly. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, Dean. What a horrible thing to ask for, I'm…sorry…" she trailed off in embarrassment and Dean wanted to kick himself.

He grabbed her hand with both of his and brought it to his chest. "Please look at me." When she did, he continued, "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. When it is me and you, together like this, I promise you that there is nothing you could ask, nothing you could ask for, and nothing you could tell me that is wrong, or sinful, or terrible. The space between us here," he pressed his hand to the sheet that covered her chest before bringing his hand back to press against his own chest. "…this space is sacred. It's magic. There's nothing that can't be said."

She blushed but she nodded. "Alright."

Suddenly her expression became quizzical, and she was staring at his pants. "Why aren't you naked? You kept your pants on. You said not to hide, but you're hiding. Why?"

He sighed and chuckled lightly. He let go of her hand. "For the same reason I said that it wasn't a good idea for you to…look at me. Because I'm doing everything I can to control myself, and that might be too much."

"Control yourself?"

"It's better if I have a kind of barrier between me and you. My…um…shaft…" he shook his head over the absurdity of this conversation and the fact that it was making him so incredibly hard. "Let's just say it's very sensitive."

Y/N thought about his words for a moment. "So, you're still aching. You didn't…come apart, like me?"

Her expression was worried and she bit her bottom lip, a gesture that made him think his pants might not actually make much of a difference for very long.

"No, I didn't." He said succinctly.

"Well, that hardly seems fair."

He smiled a strained smile. "It's fine. I'm fine."

She frowned at him. "So, you don't…I see…you don't ache for me the way I ache for you. It's different? Like the difference between me kissing you and you kissing me? You don't need me to fix it for you?"

She looked sad and Dean swore softly. "Y/N, you have no idea how much I ache, how desperate I am to have you touch me, kiss me, fix me. But I'm trying to abide by your wishes. I'm trying to keep you a virgin, and there's only so much torment a man can take. If you look at me and touch me, I'm going to spill my seed, and I am trying to spare you that."

She looked like she was trying to work something out. "And if you spill your seed, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore and I might have a baby?"

He took a deep breath and swallowed. "No, only if I was inside you." With every word of this conversation, his pants felt tighter, and he felt closer to bursting.

Y/N shrugged. "Then why can't I help you feel better, the way you helped me?"

Dean tried to come up with an explanation, but all he could manage was to shake his head as his body screamed for release.

Y/N moved closer to him and reached for the button on his pants. He grabbed her wrist quickly to stop her. They sat like that a moment, before Y/N whispered. "Don't hide yourself from me."

Her words and the look of desire and heat that flooded her gaze tore down the last of Dean's control, and he sagged back against the pillows, dropping her wrist.

She shifted so that she was sitting on her knees beside him and reached for his top button again. She undid it and pulled down his pants and underwear at once. He lifted his hips to help her and soon his cock was springing free of the confinement that had tortured him for hours.

Y/N gasped and sat back on her heels. She stared with wide eyes before blurting. "That's supposed to fit inside me? It's too big!"

Dean groaned and laughed at the same time, so it sounded a little like he was coughing. "Damn, you do wonders for a man's confidence." He grinned at her wickedly. "But trust me, it fits."

She stared at him a while longer before leaning forward again and reaching to run her fingers through the line of hair on his stomach. Unlike the last time, he didn't stop her, allowing himself to revel in the sweet torment.

He watched her reach out her hand timidly and touch the head of his shaft with a fingertip. He sucked in a breath from the jolt of fire her touch brought. She pulled back, and looked into his face. "I'm sorry! Did that hurt?"

He shook his head and his voice was very strained. "No, but yes. Sorry that doesn't make sense."

But Y/N nodded and her smile was a little naughty. "Yes, it does. It might not have a couple of hours ago, but it does now. Do you want me to continue?" She seemed to be asking a question to which she already knew the answer.

Y/N looked at Dean, his face taut, his muscles tense, and she knew two things; this was the most beautiful man she would ever see, and she had the power to bring Dean the same kind of fiery torment and blissful release he'd given her.

She reached out to stroke him again.

His hands balled into fists and a guttural sound issued from his lips.

She leaned down and placed a kiss on the very tip of his shaft. His body shuddered and a tiny amount of liquid seeped from the end. She rubbed the liquid into his skin with her forefinger. "Is this your seed?" she asked, still interested in learning. Dean only grunted, but she took it as an affirmative.

She continued to run her fingers up and down the silky smooth skin that covered the ramrod hardness under her hand. Dean's breath came hard and fast. She was having fun exploring, placing a kiss here and there along the length. 

After a few minutes, Dean pushed himself up on his one elbow, moving so that he laid sideways. He took hold of Y/N's hand and showed her how to wrap it around his shaft and move it up and down. Gently at first, and harder and faster as the heat and fire in his gaze built and built. She knew he must be getting close because his body was bucking under her hand just as hers had, instinctively thrusting. The action made something primal in her begin to ache again.

Finally she saw white liquid begin to spurt out of his body before he rolled himself into the sheet and buried his ragged shout into the pillow.

As his body continued to spasm, she ran her hand up and down his hip and over his backside which was round and firm. After his breathing returned to something resembling normal, he rolled onto his back again and Y/N took the chance to lie down across his chest. Her sheet was long gone, but she didn't care. She simply allowed herself to enjoy the amazing feeling of Dean's warm, smooth skin against her own.

She laid her hands on top of each other in the middle of his chest and propped her chin on them, so she could see his face. His eyes were closed and his face was completely relaxed. She drank up the sight of him like this.

He opened his eyes and she stared, drowning in his mossy green eyes. It suddenly occurred to her that this may be one of the last times she would ever look into his magnificent eyes and she felt tears spring up.

Dean frowned and caught a tear on his thumb as it fell. "Hey, what is this?"

She shook her head and smiled slightly. "Oh, it's nothing. I just wish I hadn't waited so long to do this. We could have days. Now we have only hours." She looked at the clock on his bedside. "And not many of those. You're leaving in less than eight hours, and I have to leave your room very soon."

Dean stared at her for a long time before speaking. "Y/N, the last thing I want to do is upset you or make you angry again. But…" he hesitated and in his hesitation, Y/N knew what he was going to say. "Come with me."

Y/N wasn’t insulted this time, and she wasn’t angry, because she knew now how desperately she wanted to do it. She knew what he was really asking of her. He wasn't trying to defile her or make her into something dirty. He was asking her to come and spend the nights with him like this. And she'd spend time with him, letting his sharp, and occasionally silly humor fill her days, she'd go out to parties with him, let him spoil her with jewels and expensive things.

She wanted so badly to say yes. But into the beautiful pictures in her imagination came the blinding knowledge that she'd have to say goodbye to all her other dreams.

She'd never find a compatible husband, or live in a pretty, respectable little cottage, and she'd never have children. She would never allow children to live the shame of her choices. She knew just how it felt to be ostracized and stared at as though you were vermin. She could never put a child through that.

She sat up and pulled the sheet around her again, moving to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just can't."

He sighed. "Why not?"

She looked over her shoulder at him and decided she could give him the truth, plain and simple. "My mother was a kept woman, and I've spent my life trying not to repeat her mistakes, trying to pull myself as far away from her life as possible. I can't simply ignore a lifetime of dreams and hopes."

Dean looked like he wanted to argue and tried to start a sentence several times. But finally he sighed deeply and fell back onto the pillows.

"Fine. I understand."

Tears came again and Y/N knew she had to go now or she might never leave his bed. She got up and picked her nightgown up off the floor.

Dean sat up again. "Wait, why are you leaving now? We have at least another hour before you need to sneak back."

He grabbed her hand as her head emerged from her nightgown and it fell to cover her completely. "Don't go yet."

But she shook her head. "I can't Dean, I…" she swallowed. "If I'm ever going to leave, I have to leave now."

She pulled out his grasp and moved toward the door. Dean pulled his pants up over his hips and followed her. As she reached the door she turned back and smiled at him, tears still falling.

She reached up, placing her palm against his cheek. He took in a quick breath and raised his chin. She felt a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"Thank you, Dean."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You're welcome, Y/N."

She took one long last look into his eyes before she ran out the door, terrified of what she was leaving behind with him.

Tag Lists:

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[darklinaforever]

Well... People are aware that if some are not happy that Michael becomes Michaela and do not want Sophie to also become an individual of the opposite sex, therefore a man, for Benedict... well that's nothing have with homophobia ?

It's quite simply that we cared and care about these characters that are Michael Stirling and Sophie Beckett ?

Personally, I don't care if Benedict is bi. Who didn't suspect it after season 1 ? It didn't shock me at all.

But it's not because he is confirmed bi that some people should suddenly hope that Sophie becomes a man ?! For what ?! Sophie is a great female character ! And I don't want anyone to touch it ! At this point, I've been waiting for years for the Sophie in the book to meet the Benedict in the show (because I find the one in the book bland...). There is the potential for a great love story !

Look, I really understand the desire for representation, but there are other shows for that if you want !

Limit, if Bridgerton wanted queer characters, they could invent or take secondary characters for that ! Brimsley and Reynolds were excellent ! After all, they fill this show with a pretty unnecessary subplot ! They could have completely made up this type of plot which for the most part would have been much more interesting !

Moreover, Benedict could very well have had adventures with men during seasons 1 and 2 instead of always making him change female partners until making him have a threesome with another man, just before the season or he is supposed to marry a woman. No because if this is supposed to be a real arc of discovery and exploration for Benedict... well that's pretty damn botched.

It's almost like it's basically there to just confirm the suspicions about Benedict's bisexuality that have been there since the beginning of the show. There is no real discovery and really in-depth exploration. It's like it's there just to be there.

Again, it would have been much better, if the goal was really to have Benedict discover more about his sexuality, to see him explore it in previous seasons. Or simply from part 1 of season 3 and not just in part 2 ?

And obviously the people who are super happy about that (which is to their credit even if I don't think it was very well written) some want Sophie to become a man and... I clearly say no.

As much Michael we will say that I can accept it, because it makes (technically) sense since Francesca as a widow will not be obliged to marry again m, and I imagine that in this scenario she will surely succeed in having a son by John / fall pregnant shortly before he died so that she could continue to live peacefully in security and then experience her second romance with Michaela to represent the second chance in true love. On the other hand, I imagine that we will lose all this desire for motherhood that Francesca had in the book which had particularly touched me, but we will see what they will write to compensate. Until then I I really like Francesca from the show after all, so we'll see ! And then, I never deprive myself of a good romance between two women, so if it's done well I would surely appreciate it. But nothing will match Franchael's original story in my heart... They were objectively the best Bridgerton romance, as well as the best book. So it’s a real shame not to see it adapted for the screen.

But the central fact is ; Why touch on central romances for beginning ?

Once again, this has nothing to do with homophobia for the most part, but simply the fact of caring about these characters who basically come from the books.

My god, are you aware that some people who didn't want Michael to change sex or don't want the same thing to happen to Sophie are members of the queer community ?!

The thing is, I really hope Sophie doesn't get changed into a man. She is the best female character in the books for me and I don't want to lose her.

[starlitsawamura]

⟣ LOVELY TO BE RAINED ON WITH YOU !

pairing : fem!reader x daichi sawamura

synopsis : you return to japan after university to attend a wedding. despite being happy for him, you’re filled with heartbreak.

content warnings : angst — lost love. heartbreak.

word count : 0.7k

author’s note : submission for my garden of eden collab. the flower i’ve chosen is bleeding heart; which symbolises lost love and sorrow. (also inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine.)

Sat between Kiyoko and Koshi on a beautiful summer day. It was warm, the sun shining down on you, caressing your skin. A soft breeze led to shivers down your spine. Your hands were laced so tightly you could barely feel your fingertips. Breathe. It was a good day, or it should’ve been. You told yourself so many times, staring into the hotel mirror, This is his day. Don’t ruin it. And despite the gut-wrenching heartache that laced your blood and breath, you pulled yourself together.

You clung to every word of his vows, glimpses of a future long gone crossed your mind, staining the backs of your eyelids. He looked so different but he was still the same Daichi. If only you hadn’t run away, maybe this would’ve been your day too.

“And do you, Daichi Sawamura, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Your heart shuddered.

“I do.”

There were cheers, screams, and whistles, all of which you couldn’t bring yourself to do. So you stood there and clapped, pulling together the best smile you could manage. Despite the inside of your head sounding like a broken record of anguished cries.

Amongst the dispersed crowd, people were chattering with each other. The husband and wife made their rounds, giving thanks and hugs to their guests. You stood further away from the group, glass of water in hand, and Kiyoko by your side. You stared out across the clear water of Okinawa. It was a beautiful venue but all you could think about was all the moments you hadn’t appreciated enough.

Kiyoko knew today wasn’t easy for you and with no words of comfort for you, she simply squeezed your hand. A reminder that she was there if you needed her.

You could hear faint footsteps grow closer to you. Kiyoko mumbled something and then took her leave. There he was beside you, hands resting on the metal rail in front of the both of you. He looked out at the water with you for a few moments, you assumed he was trying to form a sentence.

“I’m glad you could make it.” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was scared to talk. “It means more to me than I can put into words.”

Daichi honestly didn’t know if you were going to show up. Part of him was scared you’d make an excuse about work or travel. It’d been years since he saw you last and despite looking so different, you were still the same girl he’d fallen in love with that one summer. To see you at his wedding felt like the most obvious ending of your story. The two of you spanned years and continents, and now it all came to an abrupt halt. Despite the cracks that appeared over the years, it took seeing each other in the flesh to actually know it was over. This love had nowhere else to go.

You turned towards him and maybe you hoped differently, but the only facial expression you could muster was one of pain. Tears had been running down your face for a long time now and you realized that that’s why Kiyoko had been so quiet. Your mind turned back to all the nostalgic memories you and he shared.

Daichi’s heart broke at the sight of your tears, feeling like he was bleeding out at your feet all over again. Just like back then, when you’d told him you were leaving.

“I love you, y/n.”

He was begging, not stating. Pleading for you to stay. Tears streamed down his face as your eyes welled up. You hated that memory, yet you loved it all the same. And now it was only ever gonna live your head.

Your voice shook, despite every effort to be as calm as possible. “I’m so happy for you, Daichi.” You reached out for him, putting your hand in his.

He turned his face away as tears started to flow from his eyes. Daichi knew you would always be in his heart and he had come to terms with that many years ago.

“It was wonderful to love and be loved by you.” You kissed his cheek, leaving him again. This time to save your heart from breaking even further.

© starlitsawamura — do not steal or translate my work. do not share my work on tiktok or wattpad. best viewed in dark mode on mobile. banner credit to cafekitsune!

[darcytaylor]

My thoughts on Season 3 of Bridgerton

I have been trying to word exactly how I feel about Season 3 of Bridgerton.

From reading what other people have said it seems like there are mixed reviews.

I will say this right now - I really did enjoy my time watching it. I think Nicola and Luke did a great job at portraying Penelope and Colin.

I think part 1 and part 2 have completely different vibes and I can see why they accepted the 2 part release. It gave the viewers more time to digest everything and to appreciate the first 4 episodes.

But I also think (for that very reason) it hindered the season as a whole because it seemed to me that I was watching 2 different seasons of Bridgerton. They left the rom-com elements in part 1 and didn't look back, and went straight for drama. (I do love some drama in a television show though)

Maybe if it was released all together it would have flowed a bit better because I wouldn't have been searching for the rom-com lightheartedness, that I saw in part 1. I would have accepted that the drama was about to happen and happy to say goodbye to the rom-com vibes.

Having been able sit with part 1 for so long and really appreciate all that the first 4 episodes had to offer, part 2 seemed to be a bit confusing.

One of my favourite parts of part 2 were the moments that Colin was angry at Penelope. I think Luke did a fantastic job at portraying someone who was in love and angry at the same time. I said this before and I'll say it again, his eye/face acting is on point!

Nicola and Luke had mentioned before that Penelope and Colin finally open all of themselves to each other, that's how they were able to make their relationship work and become partners.

I loved seeing them not be ashamed to confess their love with each other, it was heartwarming seeing Penelope take of her shield and not hide. That was the main take-away from part 2, Penelope revealing all sides of herself, to everyone around her.

She spent her whole life in the shadows and she was now stepping "into the light". That is why it had to be Penelope confessing she was Lady Whistledown, unlike in the books. That is why they needed to reveal she was Lady Whistledown to the Ton.

Whistledown was her shield that protected her, but she completely stripped that away and let herself protect herself. It was beautiful to watch and Nicola smashed it.

Do I think that some of the background stories were a bit dragged out? Yes. I don't think they needed all of the threesome scenes of Benedict. I didn't mind him becoming more aware of himself and having the threesome. I think most of us were waiting since Season 1 to finally see it happen! But I think they showed 1 scene too many of it and it became tiresome, it didn't feel like it was enhancing his story/character, by the last threesome scene.

I really loved the direction they took for Francesca. You can see that she walks to the beat of her own drum. She is guarded but at the same time so open. If that makes sense. I think that her season will be one to look out for, for sure! Especially since we now know that her story will have the LGBTQ+ storyline. Mikaela Stirling! YES! It actually made me gasp and smile when watching them introduce her.

As for the Eloise storyline, I think Claudia did a fantastic job at portraying hurt and love and wanting the best for people even if you are mad at them. I love the fact that it took so long for Eloise to begin to forgive Penelope. It seemed more real that way.

I know people didn't love the way that she befriended Cressida and how she seemed to listen to her. But she needed that friendship to understand why her friendship with Penelope was special. To see how a person can be the way they are because of the people who raised them. To see that bad people can do good things and good people can do bad things.

So my final thoughts, I loved the season as a whole. It made me smile, laugh, be angry, hopeful, cry. It did everything I would want a television show to do.

Were there some issues. Of course. There really aren't a lot of television shows that I would say are perfect (I have 1 but I'm not going there).

I look forward to watching more seasons and to see what ALL of the actors do in the meantime.

[crowleysgirl56]

Concerning the reactions to the comment David made to a young woman about the ending of Good Omens season 3 (including mine).

Firstly let me start by saying that most of my posts are to be taken a jokes. They are written to be mostly tongue in cheek, sarcastic and (what I think) are hilarious. So even though my previous post about freaking out about what David said might seem like I was legitimately panicking I just want to say that it was a joke and please don’t take it too seriously. Honestly I hope it just made you laugh, and you continued scrolling. If my post caused anyone to further their own anxiety or freak out, I apologise. If my post contributed to the fandom as a whole slightly losing their minds, I also apologise.

For those of you who took your reactions to David’s comment a step further and threatened that poor girl, insulted her, or were just generally mean to her, stop it! Don’t do that! Don’t be awful. Please be kind. Go and apologise!

With that out of the way, I did want to do a quick* analysis of the comment and perhaps address why people (and to a little extend myself) are feeling nervous.

To begin with, Neil has previously said (and this is a really good point), David was speaking directly to a fan, and was unaware he was being filmed. So when he says “maybe it’s not the ending you want”, he’s speaking directly to the person who asked him. We don’t know the context of their interaction beforehand and maybe she (or anyone else) had already expressed what their desire for the ending is, so this was his response. However taken out of context, the fandom has put themselves in the shoes of the person asking the question and therefore inserted themselves into the you part. The ending might not be want we want or expect. And considering the number of discussions the fandom participates in, the number of headcanons the fandom throw around, and the number of fanfics being written and read, whatever ending Neil has written is not going to satisfy everyone. It’s impossible to. But that is the same of any fandom really.

Speaking of fandoms, yes we are collectively nervous for a few reasons. One, for a good month there, we were convinced that the ending of season 2 was what the end of that story was going to be. Then when it was announced there’s still one more story to tell, there was another four months before it was finally confirmed that we were going to get that story. Two, case in point Game of Thrones. I don’t think I need to explain anymore than that. We have been burned before and now we’re worried it could happen again (though I will point out here, Neil has a better handle of storytelling and the love, devotion, and desire to finish a story that is beloved to him and is effectively a love letter to his best friend, compared to two TV producers who got bored and wanted to move onto other projects…). Three, filming is still 6 months away, and the premiere likely another year after that. A lot can happen in that time. So after these experiences, I can appreciate why people get nervous and a little in their heads about things.

In terms of the immediate reaction to what this could mean for the ending itself, I honestly cannot fathom how some people have managed to draw a straight line from “It might not be the ending you want” to “Terry would absolutely hate it”. Like, that just boggles my mind. HOW do you extrapolate that? David then immediately said “It’s a good ending”. So I think it’s safe to say that it will be good.

So let’s talk about endings and what people are mostly worried about.

1) Crowley and Aziraphale become human. This isn’t going to happen. Mainly because Neil has joked multiple times that this is the ending. Therefore if he says “this is what will happen” I’m pretty confident that this is what definitely won’t happen. You know after season 2, I ended up writing my own little fan fiction about them becoming human. I thought it was sweet and cute. Then I saw a lot of people absolutely hate that idea, so I never published it anywhere. Oh well.

2) Either one or both of them will die. Also not going to happen. Something tells me that Neil would not participate in the “bury your gays” trope. I do think that maybe there might be a non-permanent death or near death in the climax. But both will live, I’m positive of this.

3) Sex. I’ve spoken about this before. We’re not getting hardcore sexual activity. This is not the show for that. Neil has said before he’s not into writing that kind of thing. Do I think we’ll get more kissing? Yes. Do I think there will be implied sex? Maybe, hopefully, I’m wishing for it. But there is not going to be actual sex folks. Please make your way to AO3 for your reading pleasure.

4) The South Downs. And now we get to what I’m most worried about. That we won’t get what everyone assumes the ending will actually be. Crowley and Aziraphale retired and living in the South Downs. Will I be disappointed if this doesn’t happen? Absolutely. Will I lament here about it? Sure, probably. Will I send Neil abusive messages about how he destroyed and ruined the ending? NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! AND DON’T ANYONE ELSE DO THAT EITHER!

So, will the ending be what we want? There is every chance that it will be, but always a possibility that it won’t be. This is the nature of storytelling. You will never satisfy everyone. Will the ending be good? I have no doubt in my mind that it will be. David says it’s a good. I trust him. Neil says it will be good. I very much trust him.

This is a comedy, first and foremost. Comedies have happy endings. Let’s just take a collective breath and believe it to be so.

*by “quick” I actually meant “really long”. Sorry about that.

[parisiterileymoon]

Yoo i just read your angel dust x reader in the 40s and it was great! If you ever need to write something in italian i'll gladly translate it for you (i am italian)

Btw are your requests open? If so then can i ask for a sort-of follow up to your aforementioned post? Reader goes to hell after getting shot by angel's dad, some years pass and angel dies too but they don't know they both went to hell and assume the other one is in heaven and one day they meet again out of luck and recognize eachother after having a conversation in a bar or something like that (btw if you could refrain from calling him anthony too much it would be greatly appreciated, nothing against that it's just that my dad is named antonio and it feels kinda weird to read a fic with my dad's name lol, but if you want to call him anthony anyway i don't mind at all), thanks for reading!

If my request violated any rules please tell me so that i won't make the mistake again

You are incredible! I adore how detailed this request is. I will use as little “Anthony” as possible lol.

Angel dust x reader (1940s follow up…or part two?)

C/W: cannon typical violence, grief, loss, mildly suggestive, survivors guilt, regret, crying LOTS of emotions.

~~

70 years. 70 years is how long it’s been. 70 years since you have seen him. It was startling at first. You never thought you would see him again. For a while you just held eachother. You sat there, your face nuzzled in his fluff. “Oh my god I have so much to tell you.” He smiled down at you. He began to talk about the family. You didn’t listen. You just stared at him. At how beautiful he is. You held his bottom set of hands and rested your head on his chest. You’ve never seen him so happy. This beautiful man you have been waiting for him for what it feels like an eternity and he’s finally here. You are in his arms at last. “Hey are you listening?” “No. I’m not. I’m sorry but…you look so happy. I can’t help but think…I mean it’s like- my whole brain is occupied by the thought ‘holy shit…this is it. This is what I have been waiting for. What I have been wanting.’ I’ve waited seventy years, my angel.” Tears well up in both your eyes. “Oh…oh my god.” He grabs your face and pulls it up to his. He kisses you. Not a kiss full of heat, but not with any less passion. A kiss filled with love and adoration. A kiss from a man missing the love of his life for 70 years. 70 years filled with pain and agony. For a moment, he forgot his pain, suffering, trauma, and tears. You are his everything. You are the reason he wanted to hang on. The shred of hope that you might reunite. “I thought you went to heaven” he said after he pulled away. You shake your head. “Why?” You laugh pitifully “I’ve done terrible things…” he sighs. “Because you regretted it. Every time. Every time you shot or stabbed you felt horrible. You brought flowers to their graves. You cried, tha-that can’t mean nothing!” He looks confused and angry. How dare they deny the love of his life entry to paradise? You are the kind of person to cry when Bambi’s mom died every time. Without fail. You put a chocolate smile on his pancakes once! “You’re too good for this shithole, (____)…too good.” His voice shakes as he said your name. You kiss him. Comforting, passionate, painful, sweet, and loving. “If I went to heaven I would’ve never seen you again.” You looked into his eyes. There were so many emotions swirling between the two of you that night.

I think the moral of this story is that…I don’t know hold on to the people that love you.

~~

I cried well writing this. Any feedback is encouraged. Thank you for reading🫂

[newtonsheffield]

Your creative outlet feeds us great Kanthony AUs which we are all grateful for that you devote so much time and energy to in between your own hectic life. The writers don’t understand how to write for our dynamic and fabulous couple even though JB& SA take what they get and kill it with their performances. A lot of ppl wish a Netflix exec would see and read your stories so they can put you in the writer’s room. You would fix all the stories or at least give good ideas for the many characters and plots. I am so glad to be a part of your fandom as there are many of us that appreciate all you do for us and the Kanthony fandom.

I don’t think anyone’s hoping to see me in the writer’s room but you’re very kind.

I also think I’d probably get fired for continuing to say “Well, my quick google has revealed that timeline wise; that’s impossible.”

[effy-writes]

HIIII!! CAN I REQ A POLY! ASMODEUS X FIZZAROLLI X GN!HELLHOUND!READER?? (IF NOT HELLHOUND THEN JUST GN!READER IS FINE!!!) and reader works at ozzie’s with fizz and asmodeus and a group a fans start making fun of reader? :3

ofc!! hope you enjoy <3

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

Ozzie x Fizz x GN! Hellhound! Reader: Performance

You first met Fizz and Ozzie at the restaurant “Ozzie’s”. You started out as a waiter/waitress and made some hella good money. So, obviously you stayed.

The two noticed you straight away and found you extremely attractive, so they began asking you on dates. You were shocked at first that THE sin of Lust and THE jester found you attractive and even wanted to go on dates. You were nervous at first, gathering your thoughts on if they’re doing this because they felt bad for you or if they’re doing this because they’re board. Either way, you dressed nicer and head your way to a different restaurant to meet them.

The moment they saw you Ozzie brought you in a tight hug while Fizz moved the chair for you to sit down. “Thanks for inviting me out on this date, I really appreciate it.” You gave them a whole heartily smile.

“Of course, babe! Fizzy and I just couldn’t stop staring at you..not in a bad way!” Ozzie laughed, “We just thought you were attractive and really wanted to get to know you more.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“So, how are you liking Ozzie’s?” Fizz questioned.

“I love working there! The money is great, the workers are great, I love seeing you guys perform, and…I feel welcomed there.”

Fizz replied, “Have you ever thought of performing? You look like you’ll be great using the pole.”

“Eh..I don’t know. I never performed before. And I definitely would mess up doing the poles. I appreciate it though!”

“Oh come on,” Ozzie replied, “Fizz could teach you! You’ll make more money by performing.”

“Really? I kinda like my waiter, waitress thing job.”

“Let’s try the pole thing out. I would love to teach you.” Fizz smiled.

“And if you don’t like it then you can go back to wait tables.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Sure, why not? Plus it’ll be nice to work with Fizz.”

That first date turned into two, then three, and then on the fourth one they asked you to join their relationship. You obviously said yes and felt like the happiest hellhound there is.

During the times of the dates, Fizz was helping you practice a routine on the poles. You never performed or do anything with people staring at you, so this was very much out of your comfort zone, but you loved spending so much time with Fizz as Ozzie cheered you on. You kept missing up at first, like falling down, or just messing up the routine, but Fizz was always there for you.

Tonight was the night of your first performance and holy shit you were nervous as fuck. You waited in the wings with your boyfriend’s and couldn’t stop shaking.

“Guys..I don’t think I should do this.” Your hands shook. Ozzie held your shaky hands and spoke, “I believe in you, babe. WE believe in you.”

“And if you mess up just keep on going! The audience doesn’t know this routine.” Fizz rubbed his face against yours so he could feel you.

You let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know…”

“Just take deep breaths. I used to do that before performing for Mammon.”

“I fucking HATE that guy.” Ozzie interrupted, “Sorry Y/n, everytime I hear his name I just want to-”

“Ozzie!” Fizz whispered with harsh before turning back to you. “You got this. We believe in you..confidence is key.”

“Thanks guys, and thank you for being my personal cheerleader.” The moment you said that your dance music started to play.

Ozzie and Fizz smiled and gave you a thumbs up as you swayed your body to the rhythm of the music. Your heard the audience gasp as you made your way to the pole and started the routine.

You felt pretty confident during this dance. The moves was perfect as you climbed up the pole, swung yourself as you showed the “good” parts of your body.

You heard some hecklers that was sitting near the front but tried not to focus on them.

Ozzie overheard them and wanted to kick them out right then and there but he didn’t want to embarrass you during your first ever performance, so he waited until the dance was over.

You climbed up the pole once more and used your hands and legs to stay upside down, but since you’re a hellhound and have soft fur, you quickly dropped to the floor and felt yourself freeze up.

Those same hecklers laughed as loud as they could to make sure you heard. “This is why hellhounds shouldn’t perform.” The girl said to her group of friends.

“I don’t even find them attractive!” Another girl said inbetween her nasally, loud laughs.

You quickly stood up and ran off the stage into the wings as Fizz called your name out. He searched for Ozzie and saw him over at the group of hecklers. Fizz ran back to you and saw you with your hands on your knees panting.

“Are you okay?” Fizz rubbed your back.

“I’m not fucking okay! I shouldn’t have done this.”

“You were amazing! Don’t listen to them.” Fizz held your hands so you would be able to stand up straight.

“They thought I was disgusting, Fizz.” You deadpanned.

“Well, now they’re beaten to a pulp.” He chuckled.

“Huh?”

“Ozzie is handling them. I’m not sure if he did actually hit them, but most definitely yelled and threw them out, literally. Look, point is, hecklers is always going to come in here, and me and Ozzie will always stand up for you. How about you try this performance again. Only whenever you’re ready.” His grip on your hands tightened.

Before you could reply Ozzie ran up, “Are you okay, babe?”

“Im fine, Oz. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Well you don’t have to worry about them anymore.” He pulled you into a hug with Fizz joining by hugging behind you.

“Fizz, you’re poking me.” You laughed.

“Sorry, love and affection turns me on.”

“I’m so fucking glad I met you guys.”