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freyjawriter24 · 1 year

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AO3 is down, so I'll have to post this there later and backdate it, but...

Today's 10th July, which means there's only 18 days left until Season 2 of Good Omens!

To commemorate this momentus point in the @gomenseveryday countdown, please enjoy the little fic below the cut...

August 2008: 11 years until Armageddon

Aziraphale was trying desperately not to think about it too much. He was failing, of course. But really, how could he be expected to just forget? This was, quite literally, the end of the world. And even if it was still eleven years away, well, that really wasn't long at all, if you thought about it. Which, despite his best efforts, Aziraphale certainly was.

He'd tried putting on some music to distract himself, but that had failed dismally, too. What a Wonderful World, Louis sang, and the angel couldn't help but picture it as a mourning song, covering everything Aziraphale would be heartbroken to lose when the war destroyed it all.

He'd quickly changed the record, but for some reason the next, usually upbeat track suddenly sounded sinister.

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer,

Goin' faster than a roller coaster...

Oh dear. Eleven years really wasn't much at all, was it? He wished Crowley were here. Why had he only agreed to meet with him the following morning? That was hours away. And in the meantime, he had to sit with memories of destruction and the echo of Buddy's words circling around in his head.

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer...

August 2009: 10 years until the Apocalypse

A decade left, now. Only a decade. Crowley had slept through more than one of those by accident, and now it was all the time they had remaining until either the Earth was annihilated or they, impossibly, miraculously, succeeded. Ten years.

You wouldn't think it, looking at him. Warlock Dowling, the Antichrist. It didn't feel real, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He was still so small. One year old, and so much potential held within him. He looked like any other human child.

Still, ten years. Just a drop in the ocean in Crowley's lifetime, but for a human – a human child in particular – that was aeons. They had time. Time to guide him, time to encourage him, time to carefully balance the good and bad impulses in him so that Hell would fail and Heaven would be denied their war. They could do this. They still had time.

August 2010: 9 years until the End of the World

"It's admirable, really," Michael mused, only half sincere.

"Naïve, is what it is," Gabriel grumbled. "And now we're getting yearly check-ins, as if anything at all is going to change."

Michael nodded sympathetically, and shuffled some paperwork on her desk. She wouldn't have minded Aziraphale's visits really – it often made for an entertaining change of pace, watching him attempt to make his busywork sound important – except that they always seemed to leave Gabriel in a bad mood.

"Well, at least you've got less than a decade left of that to go."

"Yes!" Gabriel said, brightening. "Only nine years left, and then war. What a delightful thought."

Michael smiled. "Glorious indeed."

August 2011: 8 years until the End Times

"I don't get it," Beelzebub muttered.

"He always did like going above and beyond," Dagon reasoned.

"Yeah, but yearly check-ins? It's just pointless. We know the child is going to be evil, he's the Antichrist, for Satan's sake. We don't need constant updates just to state the obvious. Certainly not every year."

Dagon shrugged. "I think he just likes showing off. Fair enough, really. He's been doing some outstanding work up there. It's only demonic that he come and gloat." The Lord of the Files rifled through a damp-looking cabinet, and pulled out a mouldy-looking folder. "Have you seen what he did with the global economy the other year? I'm thinking of sending him another commendation for that."

Beelzebub hadn't, but didn't want to let on in case Dagon launched into an explanation. "Why doesn't he come and give us presentations on that, then, rather than some snivelling child?"

Dagon raised an eyebrow. "Because you'd hate that too, and understand it even less. He's not stupid. Don't you remember the M25?"

Beelzebub groaned. "Okay, yeah, fair enough." There was silence for a moment, broken only by the steady drip of yet another broken pipe. Then: "Do you trust him, though?"

Dagon snorted. "No. Of course not."

"Good. Just checking."

"Like I said, he's doing it for his own benefit, not ours. Self-obsessed little prick, prancing his pet project in front of us every year. But at least it's only for another handful."

"Mmm. Suppose so."

Beelzebub looked gloomily into a corner, lost in thought.

Dagon sighed and slammed the filing cabinet shut. "Want to go torture someone for a bit?"

"Fuck yes. I thought you'd never ask."

August 2012: 7 years until the Destruction of Earth.

Everyone was so happy this year. London was buzzing with the energy of it all, the weather seemed determined to echo the mood, and Warlock was picking up on the collective indulgence in the simple joy of living.

You wouldn't think there was only seven years left of all this.

They took him to the Olympic Stadium, and the O2, and the Velodrome, even though he was probably still too young to understand all the rules and nuances of the sports they were watching. He loved clapping and cheering, though, and would do so regardless of who won, calling out with pride when Kenya got gold, when France did, when China did.

Thaddeus was getting more and more red in the face with each passing win for another country, but Nanny Ashtoreth's sharp gaze stopped him from doing anything about it. She'd had the forethought to warn him in advance that there would be no stifling of Warlock's joy this summer, as he was far too young to be trying to understand the nuances of the geopolitical landscape his father occupied.

Harriet sat fairly quietly the whole time, trying not to look bored, and clapping politely whenever either the USA or UK did well.

When it came to his birthday towards the end of the month, Warlock's parents got him a bike. A simple gesture, but one surprisingly aware of their son's interests.

Nanny carefully fitted a pair of stabilisers to it, and Brother Francis gifted Warlock a set of knee pads and elbow pads, alongside a helmet printed with an illustration of grass and ladybirds.

Warlock learned quickly, and took great joy in shouting out garbled imitations of Olympic commentary as he cycled around the garden.

"And Warlock Dowling cwruches his enemies under his heel, shooting stwaight into first place and winning five hundred gold medals for Team GB. And, uh, America."

Nanny watched with pride, and ignored the flutter of nerves that whispered that she might be doing a better job at influencing the child than her counterpart, and all that would mean.

August 2013: 6 years until the start of the Second Angelic War

Brother Francis tried not to think too hard about it all while he neatened up the flowerbeds for the garden party that afternoon. Warlock was turning five, and miraculously the weather had speckled the garden with enough rain overnight to keep everything looking green and vibrant without threatening any ruination to the outdoor celebration that was to come.

Five years old. Six years left.

He tried not to think about flaming swords and burning wings. Tried not to consider what might become of this garden in a few short years if they failed. Tried not to imagine what would happen to the Antichrist himself if he accepted all his inborn power.

"Brovver Francis!" came a high-pitched call, and the gardener turned to see Warlock – still tiny, really, barely more than a toddler – running across the grass towards him, Nanny following protectively just behind.

"Hello young Master Warlock. And happiest of birthdays to you! How old are you now?"

"Four," Warlock said, a little uncertainly.

"Ah, you were four, weren't you my little Prince of Darkness," Nanny said, crouching down. "But today is your birthday, and that means you get to add one year to your age! So how old are you now?"

"Five!" Warlock said brightly.

"Yes, you clever little cherub!" Brother Francis beamed.

Cherub? Nanny mouthed over Warlock's head.

Francis raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly. Ashtoreth rolled her eyes.

"Almost halfway to conquering the world, aren't you, my little charcoal dove?"

The gardener gave Nanny a look then, too, but she just smiled, a touch wickedly.

"Come on then, Warlock, let's let Brother Francis finish his work so everything's ready for your party."

"Okay Nanny! Bye Brovver Francis!"

"Goodbye, Warlock!"

Only six years left.

August 2014: 5 years until the End of Humanity

Warlock was turning six this year. He was very excited.

Six was bigger than five, and four, and three, and two, and one. It was much bigger than zero. Not quite as big as seven, true, but six was a very good number. It did lots of clever things with factors and division, which Warlock liked, and it had a special sort of meaning when three of them were next to each other, which Nanny liked. And three was half of six, too, so even better. Warlock liked maths a lot.

Six was also over halfway to eleven, which Nanny said was going to be important. That was when he'd come into his powers and rule the world. Mummy said it was when he'd go to big school, too, so maybe that was what Nanny meant. But either way, he was over halfway there now. Six was a very good number.

August 2015: 4 years until the Events of Revelations Come to Pass

Warlock had been looking forward to his birthday, as usual, until he'd learnt from his father that seven-year-olds don't have nannies, they have tutors, and that meant Ashtoreth would be leaving him soon. The child was heartbroken, and even Nanny couldn't console him for several days.

He seemed to cheer up a bit, though, when he met the first of his two new tutors – Mr Harrison, it appeared to Thaddeus and Harriet, was exactly the sort of no-nonsense teacher that little Warlock needed to get over his childish attachment to his Nanny. Warlock looked up at his new tutor in awe, and chose not to suggest otherwise to his parents.

The changeover day was to be his birthday, when neither Nanny nor tutors would be required, and it thus marked a turning point in young Warlock's life. But he knew he would be safe. Growing up wasn't all that scary when you had trusted people there to protect you. And, as it turned out, Mr Cortese looked rather familiar too. Maybe the future was going to be okay after all.

August 2016: 3 years until the End of Days

"Maths! Why did it have to be maths?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine where he gets it from."

"Makes no sense at all."

Warlock was thriving in his lessons, but that was the one thing Mr Harrison really couldn't get over. Maths.

"I mean, if it had been anything else..."

"Well, perhaps it's our fault. We really should have learnt enough by now to keep up with him on it."

"Yes, but..." Mr Harrison spluttered for a moment, unable to articulate his thoughts. "It's maths."

"Point taken."

The only maths Mr Harrison was capable of doing at the moment was subtraction. Specifically, counting down from eleven. And he was getting shockingly close to zero now...

August 2017: 2 years until the Day of Reckoning

Mr Cortese was getting rather into this teaching lark. He hadn't done much of it for centuries, but the knack hadn't left him, and he was rather enjoying things. Pity about the maths, but he was less distraught about that than his counterpart.

He just had to remember that this wasn't forever. It was a temporary measure, designed to prevent the end of the human race and all life on earth.

He didn't like reminding himself of that. But needs must. He shouldn't lose sight of the goal.

Not that Buddy was letting him forget any time soon.

August 2018: 1 year until Judgement Day

The tutors both got Warlock's birthday off, and so Crowley and Aziraphale were holed up in the bookshop, celebrating dismally the one-year-left anniversary.

"It will be fine, won't it?"

"We've done all we can."

"Not quite yet. Still a year left."

"Yes. A year."

They sat in silence for a long while. Well, the outside world was silent – Aziraphale could still hear the echoes of an earworm he'd had for the last decade, insistent and unrelenting. He began to tap his foot absentmindedly.

"What's that you've got there, angel?" Crowley asked after a few moments.

"Hmm?"

"What's in your head? You're tapping."

"Oh. Yes." He sighed. "Buddy Holly."

"...Buddy Holly?"

The angel sighed again, then got up and put the offending record on. The upbeat music filled the bookshop, and the demon winced.

"Ah. Buddy Holly."

Everyday it's a-gettin' closer...

August 2019: Adam Young's 11th Birthday

Adam opened his eyes. Yes. Today was the day. Eleven years old. He he grinned up at the ceiling, then scrambled out of bed, still grinning, and headed downstairs.

Today was going to be a brilliant day.

#my writing #fanfiction #good omens #GOmensEveryday #everyday it's a-getting closer #aziraphale #crowley #warlock dowling #archangel michael #the archangel fucking gabriel #beelzebub #dagon #adam young

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artyandink · 7 months

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we could be more | dean winchester | 2

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

NOW PLAYING: TEARS OF A CLOWN - IRON MAIDEN

I walked up to Sam and Dean, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry ‘bout your dad. I’ve got my clothes in here, so I’ll change quickly.”

“Alright.” Dean opened the door to my car, giving me a wink. “Sam and I’ll block the windows.” I climbed into it, putting on a black dress and heels before getting out.

Dean whistled. “Lookin’ pretty, Beanie.”

“Beanie?” I raised an eyebrow, and so did Sam.

“She wears a beanie. Beanies are adorable and so is she. So I’m callin’ her Beanie.”

“I can’t win.” I groaned. “Let’s just go, you don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah, we don’t.” Sam scowled at Dean as we got back into the car, Dean punished by sitting in the backseat while I rode shotgun.

“I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. Like I’m some bad omen.” I frowned, but was waved off by Sam.

“No, no. If anything, you helped.”

“You saved my life, Beanie, I owe you a lot for that.” Dean piped up.

“Will you stop calling me Beanie?” I asked, hopeful.

“No chance.”

“Worth a shot.” We spent the rest of the road in silence until we pulled up at a location with everyone dressed in black, and there was a funeral pyre. This was John Winchester’s funeral. I, at first, insisted on not going, but Sam and Dean insisted that I’d come along. I stood in silence, thanking the stars that the second funeral I’d been to had been without my empathic abilities. I couldn’t feel anything, and it was bliss.

“Before he.. before, did he say anything to you? About anything?” Sam asked Dean, who looked down.

“No.. no. Nothing.” He replied monotonously, and I looked between the two before enjoying the absence of overwhelming emotions.

Sam nudged me, taking me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just in thought.” I replied quietly, watching the pyre burn.

“I-I can’t take much more of this.” Dean groaned, walking off. We followed him to the Impala, where he handed me my clothes, so I went to the nearest bathroom and changed, coming back out while fixing my scarf.

“Alright, what now?” I asked, fixing my hair.

“Home?” Dean shrugged. “Though I need to get my Impala.”

“Let’s take my car, then, and spend a bit at my place before we get your car.” I offered. “Then we can tow the Impala out to my house. I’ve got quite a few tools there you can use.”

“Sounds like a privilege, Beanie.” Dean grinned to Sam, going shotgun. “See? I knew we should’ve kept her with us.”

“Thanks, Ivonne.” Sam whispered in my ear, and I patted his shoulder.

“Please.” I scoffed. “You two are helping me live. Lunch is an understatement.” I opened my car door, getting in. “There’s a good cafe where I can get us lunch. Wanna make a pit stop there?”

“That would be good, yeah.” Sam nodded. I put my foot down on the pedal, playing music while I drove.

“Got some water?” Dean asked, so I gave him a fresh bottle from the side pocket. He sipped it intently. “I love a girl who can drive-“

”Drink your water.” I laughed, turning the wheel while Sam snickered in the back.

“Tell him, Ivonne.” He grinned. “He needs it.”

“Sammy, be nice.” Dean chastised playfully, then turned to me. “When did you start hunting?”

”As soon as I developed magic abilities, which was at 19.” I replied. “Roommate of mine had a vengeful spirit after them. Conveniently, they showed up so I could destroy it.”

“Sounds like a ride.” Sam commented.

“You have no idea.” I laughed. I pulled up at a cafe, parking quickly. I checked myself in the mirror quickly, arranging my hair to look, well, better.

“Who’re you preening for?” Dean scoffed, re-popping his collar and sorting out his hair.

“Who’re you preening for?” I retorted.

“I asked first. Is there a guy in there?”

“Hot barista.” I grinned, taking out a lip gloss and applying it. “He went to my high school.” I opened the car door, getting out and both of them following suit.

“So you’re taken?” Dean joked.

“Dean.” Sam groaned.

“It’s a serious question!”

“Hopefully I will be.” I teased. “Maybe then you’ll get off my back.”

“Kind of hard to do, sweetheart.” Dean winked, giving me the fifth once-over of the day. We went into the cafe, and the barista at the counter smirked once he saw me. His name was Alex, and he had messy brown hair with startling blue eyes, and he was visibly well-built. I walked over to the counter, and he chuckled.

“Ivonne… Hazel… Rainer.” He laughed. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you.”

“Alex Wilde.” I smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

I heard some movement behind me, and Alex’s eyes flickered to Dean and Sam. “Who’re these two? Bodyguards?”

He hit the nail on the head. I giggled, shaking my head. “I wish I was famous enough for bodyguards. This is Sam and Dean.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sam shook Alex’s hand. “I’m Sam.”

“And I’m Dean.” Dean also shook Alex’s hand, a small smirk on his face.

“Alex.” Alex grinned, then turned to me. “Your usual?”

“You know it.” I smiled.

“And you guys?”

“I’ll take a latte.” Sam spoke up.

“I’ll have what the lady’s having.” Dean nodded to me, flashing his signature smirk again.

“Alright, I’ll get that to y’all.” Alex nodded, and we sat down. Dean raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he nodded towards Alex.

“Him? Really?”

“Yes, him.” I shot back.

“He seems nice.” Sam contradicted.

“Exactly!”

“Seems like a wimp.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean, be nice.” Sam chastised.

“I’m saying that Beanie can do better than a barista.”

“A hot barista.” I retorted.

“You can’t argue with that logic.” Sam whistled.

Dean just shook his head.

I opened the door to my house, letting the boys in and taking off my shoes.

“Sweet joint.” Dean praised while Sam picked up salt from the edge of the room.

“This is where you got your powers taken from you, right?” He deduced, and I nodded, then turned to Dean, who was about to head to the kitchen. I snapped my fingers.

“Hey, ay, ay!” I called, getting his attention. “Shoes off past that point.”

“Really?” He groaned, turning to me.

“Shoes. Off.” I glared at him for a moment, then he conceded, taking his shoes off. Sam did too for good measure, both of them lining it up neatly. I took a piece of paper, writing on it then sticking it above the doorway.

SHOES OFF PAST THIS POINT IF YOU WANNA LIVE :)

- Ivy

”Really, Beanie?” Dean grimaced. “It’s that necessary?”

“My house, my rules.”

“My shoes, my rules.”

“My house is bigger and more expensive.” I mimicked a mic drop, “I’ve got two spare bedrooms so you boys don’t have to suffer sharing the same bed. Settle down, and after a week we’ll go to the impound.”

“Who put you in charge?” Dean argued.

“Common sense did.” I replied smoothly as I walked into the kitchen.

”I gotta say,” Sam quipped, “I agree with common sense.” Dean narrowed his eyes.

“Which side are you on?!”

We were forward a week, and we’d reached the impound where Dean’s car was stationed. It looked, well, better than before, and Sam was awkwardly standing over him. I think that the prospect of John’s death really hit Dean like a bullet train, because he got grumpier and grumpier as the week went. I guess the momentary laughs were just denial.

“How's the car coming along?” Sam asked, looking down on Dean’s legs, which were the only thing you could see with his torso under the car.

“Slow.” Dean replied coldly. Ouch.

”Yeah? Need any help?”

“What?” He laughed. “You, under a hood? I’ll pass.”

“Need anything else, then?”

“Stop it, Sam.” Dean pushed himself out from under the car, looking agitated. Something seemed to pull a nerve there.

”Stop what?” Sam asked, looking confused.

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise.”

“All right, Dean, it's just... We've been at Ivonne’s for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once.”

”You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.” Dean scoffed. I frowned, folding my arms.

“Don't patronise me, Dean, Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.” Sam pleaded.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car.”

“Revenge, huh?” Dean nodded sceptically, jaw ticking.

“Yeah.”

“Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car-“

“Just shut the hell up!” I burst out, slapping my forehead. “I’ve had enough of this, I really have. The tension here is thick enough for me to take a knife and stab right through it. Sam, reflect. Dean, we need to talk.” I took Dean by the collar, dragging him away from Sam while he feebly protested.

“Hey, hey, watch the collar!” He finally swatted my hand away, popping his collar again and then folding his arms. “What?”

“You need to cut the attitude, cause you’re acting like a douche.” I frowned, folding my own. “Your dad died-“

“Yeah, my dad died. What about it?”

“You’re acting strong, Dean.” I sighed. “You’re a stubborn person, I know that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurting. But so is your brother.”

Dean scoffed, “I’m not hurting-“

“Yes, you are.” I insisted, raising my eyebrows. “It’s so obvious and I know it’s hard to deal, but you can’t shut Sam out like that. He needs your help, even if you don’t realise it.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Dean’s eyes narrowed and suddenly I had no voice. I looked down, remaining silent, and he gently took my shoulders, bending down and trying to get me to look at him. “Who died, Ivonne? Talk to me.”

“It’s not important.” I muttered, then turned and walked over to Sam. “He’s gonna be better, I think.”

“Thanks, Ivonne, I…” Sam paused for a moment, “I’ve just never seen him like this and it’s scaring me a bit.”

“I don’t blame you.” I sighed. “He’s acting up and it’s not okay, but he’s visibly hurt by this. I’m gonna try and be there for him and so should you. Even if he doesn’t let you.”

“Makes sense.”

“So,” I spread my arms, “bring it in.” He hugged me tightly, and I patted his back. “It’s gonna be ok, Sam.” We detached, “Now show me whatcha got.”

“This is one of dad's old phones.” He took out a battered phone. “Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.”

“Wait-“ I turned, “DEAN! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!” Dean walked over, and Sam played the voicemail.

‘John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.’

“That message is four months old.” Sam frowned.

“Dad saved that chick's message for four months?” Dean blinked.

“Yeah.”

”Well, who's Ellen, for starters?” I asked. “Any mention of her in John’s journal?”

“No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address.”

“Let’s take my car.” I offered, holding up my keys.

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean agreed.

We approached the Roadhouse Saloon, with Dean at the wheel this time, and he smoothly parked in front. We got out, looking around cautiously.

“Hello?” Sam called, “Anybody here?”

”They will be here soon.” I hissed.

“Just checking!”

“Hey. You bring the, uh…” Dean held out his hand, and Sam searched his pockets.

“Yeah.” He tossed a pickpocketing tool to Dean, who quickly opened the door to the saloon. We crept in, eyes darting around. A light bulb blew out, and there was a man passed out at the bar.

“Hey, buddy?” Sam whispered, and I chuckled.

“I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.” I quipped with a smirk. I went behind the bar, searching for someone. Then I heard a click, a smack and Dean calling out for help.

“Sam! Sammy! I need some help!”

“My hands are tied too.” Sam replied, and I pulled out my gun, flicking down the safety pin. I raised it, moving into the room behind the woman holding a gun to Sam’s head.

“Mine aren’t.” I growled, alerting both the attackers. “Drop your guns and let them go or you’ll both be on the floor faster than you can say ‘hands up’.”

“Wait…” Dean’s attacker popped out from behind him, her eyes widening when she saw me. She had long blonde hair, brown eyes and the most recognisable style I have ever seen. Nobody wears a green tank top and mom jeans and pulls it off that well. “Ivvy?”

“Jo?” I half-laughed, half-exhaled as we both realised who we were dealing with. We stored our guns in our pockets, hugging each other tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

”I’m so glad I’m here, trust me.”

“I’m confused.” Dean whispered.

“They know each other, Dean.” Sam hissed.

”Should have done a degree in stating the obvious, Sammy.”

”Sam? Dean? Winchester?” Ellen questioned, looking between the two.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded.

“Son of a…”

“Mom, do you know these guys?” Jo asked, detaching herself from me.

“I think these are John Winchester’s boys.”

“They are.” I nodded.

Ellen laughed, lowing her handgun. “Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo.”

Dean flashed his signature smirk at Jo, who smiled back. “Hey.” He grinned.

“Hey.” She replied, looking bashful.

“You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?”

”Here you go.” Ellen offered Dean a towel with ice, which he accepted.

“Thanks.”

“Good one. I’ve been waiting to do that.” I whispered to Jo, who giggled.

”You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?”

“Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it.” Ellen said candidly.

“What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?” Dean scoffed. “I mean, who-who are you? How do you know about all this?”

”Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.”

“Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you?”

“You’d have to ask him that.”

“So why exactly do we need your help?”

“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your butt on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if...” She trailed off, eyes widening, “he didn’t send you. He's all right, isn't he?“

“No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think.” Sam stammered. “It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. We’re ok.” Dean coughed.

“No, he is not.” I muttered.

”Really? I know how close you and your dad were.”

“Really, lady, we’re fine.” Dean growled through gritted teeth.

“‘Course you are.” I tutted.

“Ivonne.”

“So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get.” Sam pleaded.

“Well, we can't.” Ellen stated. “But Ash will.”

“Who’s Ash?” I blinked.

“ASH!” The sleeping man at the bar woke up, flailing his arms.

“I’m up, I’m up! Is it closing time?” Ash slurred.

“That’s Ash?” Sam coughed.

“Delightful.” I grimaced.

”Mhmm. He’s a genius.” Jo convinced, but I wasn’t as much as she was. She started pouring glasses of water, while Ellen slapped a folder on the table. Sam sat down, leaving Dean and I to stand.

“You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius.” Dean groaned. “He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

“Shut your pie hole.” I snapped.

“I like you.” Ash chuckled, pointing to me.

”Thanks.”

“Just give him a chance.” Jo sighed. Dean resigned, sitting down.

“All right.” Dean cleared his throat. “This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it.”

“Come on. This stuff ain't real.” Ash scoffed. “There ain't nobody can track a demon like this.”

“Their dad could.” I retorted.

“There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean.. damn!” Ash exclaimed. “They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms... You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam groaned.

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me…” Ash clicked his tongue, “fifty one hours.” He then got up to leave.

”Hey, man?” Dean piped up.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, dig the haircut.” It was an odd haircut, I’ll give him that.

“All business up front, party in the back.” He left, and I turned to Ellen.

“It’s nice to see you again, Ivvy.” Ellen smiled, passing me a beer.

“Same to you, El.” I grinned. “Haven’t felt this at home in ages.”

“How’re you feeling after Danny?” She asked, and I kissed my teeth, thinking.

“Better than I was. Until the Devil took my powers.”

“He did what?!” She slammed the table. “Evil little son of a-“

“Ok, ok!” I chuckled, “It’s fine. I’m survivin’.”

“He shouldn’t.” Ellen growled. “I remember when you were just a girl. Sweetest thing I’ve ever met. These powers corrupted you, but that demon’s going to do worse.”

“Yeah, I get that.” I sighed, looking down.

“I think Jo’s free from Dean, go catch up.” I immediately got up, going over to Jo and hugging her again.

“What’s this about your powers gone?” She asked, and I showed her the rune.

“Gone until the demon dies or I find a ‘drop of love’.” I scoffed.

“What’s that?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“I’m sure you will.” She patted my shoulder. “By the way, this Dean pal of yours was flirting with me.”

“Pay no attention to him.” I laughed. “He does that with me too. He puts on a Jerry Maguire act for nothing.”

“He’s that kind of guy, got it.” She giggled.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you.” I joked.

”Hey, Beanie!” Dean called, and I whipped around.

“What?” I snapped back.

“Beanie?” Jo whisper-giggled.

”Short story.”

“C’mere!” Dean yelled again, and I walked over to the two.

“Whaddya want from me?” I groaned, sitting down.

“Very courteous, Beanie.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” I drawled. “Sammy, what’re we doing?”

“Murders, not far from here.” Sam replied, showing me the file.

“Well, we should probably check that out.” I clicked my tongue.

“That’s what I told Ellen we’d do.”

“You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean groaned as he drove my Chevrolet Corvette, Sam in the back with me with the case.

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually.” Sam exhaled sharply.

“And this family was at some carnival that night?”

“Right, right. Uh, the Cooper Carnivals.”

“So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?”

“Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop.” I explained, looking through sheafs of evidence. “Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course.”

“Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam.” Dean smirked. “Why did it have to be clowns?”

”Oh, give me a break.” Sam groaned.

“You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television.”

“At least I’m not afraid of flying.”

“Planes crash!”

“And apparently clowns kill!”

“And so will I in a second!” I cut in, silencing them both.

“I’d rather take the plane.” Dean gulped.

“And me the clown.” Sam whispered.

“Thank you.” I smiled briefly. “So these types of murders, did they ever happen before?”

“Uh, a-according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales.” Sam stammered.

“It's weird, though, I'm mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house, or a town.” Dean frowned, so I pulled a book out of my satchel, flicking through.

“So how’s this one travelling?”

“Cursed object, perhaps.” I shrugged, “Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them. Unlikely, but plausible.”

”Great, paranormal scavenger hunt.” Sam grimaced.

“Well, this case was your idea.” Dean retorted. “By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.”

”So?”

“It's just... not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

”I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do.”

“What Dad would’ve wanted?”

“Yeah? So?” Sam sassed.

“Nothin’.”

Geez.

We pulled up at the carnival, where the police already were.

“Watch out.” Dean whistled. “Five-o’s.”

”You’ll be fine.” I assured. “Don’t make a scene, keep your head down and keep walking.”

”Knowing Dean, that’s not gonna happen.” Sam grimaced as we all got out of the car.

“Ever since she came, you two have been ganging up on me.” Dean grumped.

“That’s cause I finally get to have a conversation with someone who has common sense.”

”I’m proud not to have common sense, Sammy. I own my flaws.”

”Never say that again.” I laughed.

“Try me, Beanie.” Dean smirked, whipping my beanie off my head and jamming it onto his own. Sam ran his fingers through my hair a bit, tidying it up, and I gave him a small smile, combing my fingers in the same direction. A three-foot tall clown went by, and Sam stared at it, nervous, and she stared back as well before walking into the distance. “Did you get her number?”

Sam scowled, looking like a six year old. “More murders?”

“Twice recently.” I explained. “Ripped to shreds, and a little boy survived, and he was with them.”

“Who fingered a clown.” Sam finished, getting a weird look from Dean. “What?”

“So, a clown who just apparently vanished into thin air.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything.”

“It’s going to give off EMF.” I mused.

“So we’ll just scan everything.” Dean added optimistically.

“Oh, good, that's nice and... inconspicuous.” Sam sighed.

“We can blend in.” I smirked, gesturing to the ‘Help Wanted’ sign conveniently placed near us. We ventured inside, spotting a man with sunglasses throwing knives on a target, but they didn’t quite hit bullseye.

“Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?” Dean asked him, and the man turned around.

“Is that some kinda joke?” He took off his sunglasses, and his eyes had cataracts. Oh damn, he was blind.

”Oh. God, I'm-I'm sorry.”

“You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?” The blind man growled.

“Wanna give me some help here?” Dean whispered to Sam.

“No, not really.” Sam whispered back.

“Hey man, is there a problem?” A short guy appeared, looking up at Dean with a suspicious expression.

Trouble’s coming.

I draped my hair over one shoulder, undid a few of my top buttons, took a tube of lip gloss and touched up my makeup. I dumped my scarf on Sam, who gave me a questioning look.

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people.” The blind man grumbled.

”Do you have a problem?” The man asked Dean.

Dean chuckled nervously. “No, it’s just a little misunderstanding.”

“Little?! Son of a-“

“Come on, boys, let’s not fight.” I interrupted, gaining the three men’s attention.

“Who’s she?” Blind man barked. “She sounds pretty.”

“She is pretty.” Short man replied with a smirk.

“I’m flattered.” I laughed, faking it. God, this was demeaning. “Now, my friends and I don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for Mr Cooper. D’you know where to find him?”

“Follow me, sweetheart.” We followed the short man, and Dean regrouped with Sam and I.

“What the hell?” Dean whispered. “I’m trying to make amends for accidentally offending someone and you just pout your lips?”

“Perks of being a woman.” I smirked, patting Dean’s shoulder. “It’s easy to charm a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in ages.”

“That was genius.” Sam chuckled.

“I know.” We reached the door to Mr Cooper’s office, and we were let in.

“Mr Cooper?” The short man asked. “You got three new recruits.” We walked in and saw Mr Cooper at his desk. There were three chairs, and one with a clown painted on it. Sam sat down gingerly, while Dean sat looking smug.

“You boys, and lady, picked a hell of a time to join up.” Cooper grunted. “We've got all kinds of local trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowned.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered.” He waved his hand. “Cops always seem to start here first. So, you two ever worked the circuit before?”

“Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas.”

“Doing what? Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?”

“Just a little bit of everything, I guess.” Sam shrugged.

“You lot have never done a show in your lives, have you?”

“No, we have not, sir.” I admitted. “But my brothers and I do need the money.” I saw a twitch of surprise in Dean’s face, but he masked it pretty well.

“You see that picture? That's my daddy.” Cooper pointed to a picture.

“You look just like him, Mr Cooper.”

“He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress. I guess. You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two point five kids. Live regular.” Cooper turned to me, “And you, little lady, should build a life of your own. You three’re no outcasts.”

“You’d be surprised.” I laughed.

Sam leaned forward, serious. “Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this.”

“You got assistant manager?” Dean scoffed, picking up rubbish. “How?”

“Perks of being a woman. And downsides of being a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in many decades.” I winked. We both got a phone call, so we picked up. “Hello?”

‘Hey, guys.’

“What’s up, Sammy? You sound like you saw a clown.” Dean frowned.

‘Very funny. Skeleton, actually.’

“Are we talking real human bones?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

‘In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object -- what if it's attached to its own remains?’

”Does it give off EMF?” Dean and I asked at the same time.

‘Well, no, but-’

“We’ll check it out anyway.” I nodded.

“We’re coming to you, Sammy.” Dean said before cutting the call. “Did you have to say that at the same time?”

“Not my fault we think the same way.” I grinned, taking my beanie off Dean and ruffling his hair before pulling it over my head.

“Bug off.”

“Make me.” I teased before walking off. I reached Sam, tapping him on the shoulder. “Whatcha got?”

”Nothing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nothing gives off EMF yet.”

“It will.” I assured. “Just gotta keep your patience.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Hey! It’s hard work, being hit on by a short man!”

“Fine, fine.” Dean approached us, looking grumpy. “What took you so long?”

“Long story.”

”Mommy, look at the clown!” We heard a little girl giggle, pointing to nowhere.

“What clown?” Her mother asked, looking around, then she took the girl’s hand. “Come on, sweetie.”

We exchanged a look; something was up.

”What I want to know,” I whispered angrily, “is why you told Papazian about the killer ghost clown.” We were on a stakeout at the girl’s house, just waiting.

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real.” Dean shrugged. He cocked a gun, but Sam slapped it down.

”Keep that down!” Sam hissed.

“Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what.”

“What?”

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

“So Cooper brought the spirit with him?” I mused.

”Something like that.” Dean shook his head, sighing. “I can't believe we keep talking about clowns.”

“Nobody can.” I grimaced. “Alright, let’s keep watch. Nobody close their eyes.”

Dean fell asleep.

At around midnight, we saw the girl go over to the door, opening it. “Wanna come and play?” The clown entered with her, and we jolted Dean awake, dragging him with us. We broke in, waiting in the hallway. “Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs.” As soon as the clown and the girl came in sight, I rushed forward, taking her out of the clown’s grip. She started screaming, but I loosened my grip.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I whispered. She quietened down, but then Dean shot the clown and she hugged me, crying.

“Dean, watch out!” Sam yelled, and the clown escaped.

“I’ve got you.” I murmured, stroking the girl’s back. “Don’t worry.”

”What's going on here?” The father ran down the stairs, his eyes widening when he saw his daughter hugging me. “Get away from my-“

Her mother ran down too, gasping. “Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!”

“Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!” Sam and Dean fled, but I breathed shakily, frozen for a moment.

“Mommy, Daddy, the man shot my clown!” The girl cried, then pointed to me. “She saved me!”

“You saved my daughter.” The mother sobbed, hugging me. “Thank you.”

“How can we repay you?” The dad asked, picking his daughter up.

“I- you don’t n-need to.” I stammered. “I know what it’s like to not be protected when you need it. My parents weren’t exactly there, so she’s lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky that you were there.” The mother smiled.

And that’s how I ended up leaving with food.

I trudged over to the car, where Dean and Sam were waiting.

“Where were you?” Sam sighed in relief upon seeing me, unfolding his arms.

“We couldn’t get in cause you have the keys!” Dean grumped.

“Can I console you with food?” I held up the food, and they stared at me.

“Uh… how? Why?”

“The little girl told her parents that I saved her from you two.” I chuckled nervously. “They asked me how they could repay me and I told them they didn’t have to, but they sent me with food and a large flask of cocoa.”

“Beanie, I’ve never appreciated you so much until this day.” Dean grinned.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think they got the plate?” Dean asked while munching on a sandwich.

“Nope.” I smirked. “Covered the plate when we got here. Then I whipped it off before we left, so it’s unlikely they saw anything. But I’ve been thinking. One thing's for sure.”

“What is?” Sam asked, also eating a sandwich.

”We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid.”

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?”

“Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?” Dean scoffed. “Did it say anything in Dad's journal?”

Sam flicked through it, eyebrows furrowed. “Nope.”

I pulled out my phone, dialling a number and holding it to my ear.

“Who’re you callin’?” Dean asked.

“Jo.” I replied, getting out of the car, then she picked the call up.

‘Hello?’

“Hey, Jo, it’s Ivvy.”

‘Oh, hey! Whatcha need?’

”The boys and I just finished a stakeout at a girl’s house because she came into contact with the clown. Dean shot it, but it was solid. Is Ash back with his evidence?”

‘Yeah. Lemme pass the phone to him.’

’Hey, pretty lady.’

’Ash!’

’I’m kidding! Anyway, I think what you’re lookin’ for is called a Rakshasa. An ancient demon from Hindu mythology. It takes on a human form, feeds on human flesh and can’t enter a home unless invited. They sleep on a bed of dead insects and wake up around every twenty to thirty years. Sounds accurate.’

“How do you kill it?”

‘Blade made of pure brass. That’s our best guess.’ Ellen cut in. ‘If it’s right, you’re welcome; if it’s wrong, see you on the other side.’

“I’ll make sure to tell you if it worked.” I laughed. “Alright, see you guys.”

‘Bye!’ I cut the call, climbing back in. Dean and Sam looked grumpier, and I raised my eyebrow.

“Did you two fight again?”

“No.” Dean grumbled, and I turned to Sam.

“Sammy?”

“No.” He replied a lot more civilly.

“The moment I leave.” I grimaced.

”What did Ellen say?” Sam asked.

“What we’re looking for, they said, might be a Rakshasa. Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited.“

“So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in.” Dean mused.

“Pretty much sums it up.”

“Why don't they just munch on the kids?”

“Not enough meat on the bones?” Sam theorised.

“What else did you find out?”

“A Rakshasa sleeps on a bed of dead insects and wakes up to feed every twenty to thirty years.”

“Well, that makes sense.” Dean nodded. “I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81.”

“Probably more before that.” Sam breathed.

“Who do we know that worked both shows, boys?” I smirked.

“Cooper.”

“Cooper.” Dean added.

“You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him.”

“What if it is him?”

“Can’t rule it out.” I shrugged. “Who knows how old he is?”

“Ellen say how to kill him?”

“Legend says a dagger made of pure brass.”

“I know where to get one of those.”

”Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him.” Sam frowned.

“You’re such a stickler for details, Sammy.” Dean teased, making Sam smile. “All right, I'll round up the blade, Beanie, you’ll keep watch and you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I grinned, patting them on the shoulders.

“Let’s do this.”

I waited outside, one hand on the gun in my jacket, maybe as reassurance that it was still there.

“Look, Mommy, it’s her!” I heard, and the little girl ran up to me, paired with her parents.

“Hey, uh, didn’t expect to see you guys again.” I chuckled nervously, raising my hand.

“And we never got your name.” Her mother smiled while I shook her father’s hand.

“My name’s, um, Lily.” I lied, thinking quickly. “Lily Carter.”

“I’m Audrey Teyman.” She introduced. “This is my husband James, and this little girl is also Lily.” My breath caught in my throat, but I stomached it, bending down to Lily.

“You’re a Lily too, huh?” I smiled.

”Yeah!” She giggled. “You’re just like me.”

“Yeah, I’m just like you.” I heard some yelling, so I had to think quickly again. “Tell you what?” I pulled out some money and gave it to her. “Spend it on anything you want. But not too much sweets, you get me?”

“Yeah!”

“Pinky promise?” I held out my little finger and she wrapped hers around mine before giving me a hug. I stood up to face her parents.

“You’re too generous.” James smiled.

“It’s nothin’.” I shook my head. “Now you go, Lily, and spend that money right, okay?”

“Okay!” Lily gave me a toothy grin.

“We’d better get going. It was lovely meeting you again, Miss Carter.” They left, and I immediately ran to the source of the commotion.

“Dean!” I yelled, trying the door handle.

“Beanie, thank god!” Dean shouted from the inside, and I shot the door handle, opening it just in time for Dean to tumble out.

“Are you ok?!”

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t stepped in.” He leaned his forehead against mine, a relieved grin on his face, but his eyes were closed.

“Dean! Ivonne!” Sam ran up to us, and we both got up, walking over.

“Sammy!”

”So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him.”

“We’ve figured that part out. It’s the blind guy. He's here somewhere.”

“Did you get the brass blades?”

“No, no, it’s been one of those days.”

“We can’t have one of those days.” I grimaced. “We’re probably now on the Rakshasa’s most wanted list. We have to kill it.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Sam nodded, “Follow me.” We ran to the funhouse, and when we were there I pulled out my gun. “Dean, Ivonne, find the maze, now!” We ran in, my gun held up while I heard every single sound around me.

“Can you stop walking so loud?!” I whispered to Dean, who stopped.

“I’m heavy footed!” He argued quietly.

“Our lives are on the line here!”

“Fine!” We found the maze and came back to Sam.

“Where is it?” Sam asked frantically.

“I don’t know.” Dean fretted. “Will we see its clothes when it’s walking around, or..?”

“Probably not.” I frowned, then a knife flew past Dean, pinning his sleeve to the wall. Another pinned his wrist to the wall.

“Sam!” Sam pulled the pipe off the wall, stalking around slowly. Then a knife almost chipped him in the head, but he dodged in time.

“Dean, where is it?” Sam called.

“I don’t know!” A knife flew through the air, and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, followed by my body reacting to absorb the shock. I held my hand to my stomach, and when I drew it back, I saw blood.

A knife was in my stomach.

“Beanie!” Dean yelled, then pulled a lever, making steam gush out of the organ and show the outline of the body.

“Over here!” I held up my hand and caught the pipe, sticking it as far as I could into the Rakshasa. It bled, and slowly disappeared, while I collapsed onto the floor and sat against the wall, leaning my head against it. Dean got the knives off his sleeves and rushed over to me, both brothers kneeling down.

“Don’t you close your eyes, Ivonne.” Dean ordered, tilting my head up to face him. “Don’t you dare.”

”We’ll get you an ambulance.” Sam fretted, trying to assess the wound.

“I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon.” I coughed, wincing a little at the pain. “I’ll be damned and given a one way ticket to hell if I do.”

“You’re not going there.” Dean assured. “I ain’t gonna let you.”

”So considerate.” I smirked.

“So mouthy, even with a knife in you.”

”Knife wounds won’t stop me from getting a dig in.”

”I was kind of hopin’ that you’d stay back.” Jo smiled giving me a once over. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Of course.” I chuckled. “I’ve got these two knuckleheads.”

“Those two knuckleheads couldn’t save you from a flying knife.”

“One was trapped by one, the other dodging one. I can only blame my reflexes.”

“Just be careful out there.” Ellen chastised, handing me some bandages. “I wouldn’t want a knife to hit your heart next time.”

“I guarantee you, Ellen, there’s no way in hell I’d let that happen.”

“But we’re not in hell.” She frowned. “I’ve known you since you were a newborn, Ivonne. What happened to your family was terrible, and it could happen again.”

“I think this time is different.” I smiled. “If not, I know who to call.”

“You better.” Jo hugged me. “I’ll be waiting everyday. If you won’t call me for a while, I’m busting down your door and I’m gonna kill those two myself.”

“Jo, that’s my job.” I joked, inciting a laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I’ve got something to give you.” Ellen hurried to her drawer, taking out a necklace. “It was your father’s gift to your mother when they didn’t start becoming so… distant. I think it’d look wonderful on you.” I took it, admiring the shimmering green stone.

“It would. Thanks, Ellen.”

”No problem.”

A day later, I was told that I’d be fine, so we were back at my house. Dean and Sam insisted that I stayed in bed while they brought me food and breakfast, but I did have to get in some walking.

“Knock knock.” Sam grinned.

“Hey, Sammy.” I smiled, sitting up a bit. “C’mon in.”

Sam sat down next to me, looking intently. “How have you been?”

”I could be worse.” I chuckled. “Dude was good at his craft.”

”He was.” Pause. “But there’s something else.”

“What is it?” I frowned.

”What you said to Dean stuck with me. I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon. I’ll be damned and given a one-way ticket to hell if I do.” He repeated. “It seemed so genuine. Did something happen to you or someone in your family?”

”That’s a story for another day.” I refused politely. “For now, all I can say is that it’s my fault.”

”I don’t think it was.” Sam smiled, then kissed me on the forehead. “G’night, Ivonne.”

”Call me Ivy, Sammy.” I offered.

”G’night, Ivy.”

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ineffable-rohese · 1 month

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Sounds like "Rose"

New pinned post! Cause some stuff needs updated. :)

Demographic info: Mid 40s white fat queer poly pagan genderfluid transmasc human living in the wet corner of North America. The genderfluid thing is newly realized and shiny and I’m sure I’ll be talking about it often over the next... while.

Personal (public facing): I'm an Aziraphale-coded hobbit. Like, so cozy and wholesome you might want to puke. I rewatch just the first disc of the LOTR extended edition because I love the Shire so much. I drink Earl Grey with milk and one sugar. (Or a good scotch, cause every Aziraphale needs a little bit of Crowley inside them, right Sheenie?) Outside of fic, I read mainly historical fiction, especially anything set in (actual, not fantasy) medieval Europe and I was at one point a medieval music history nerd. I wear cozy sweaters. I love rain on ferns and April flowers. I make soup with things I've tended and harvested. I work a Wholesome AF job. I unironically hug trees. I'm in love with the world.

Personal (in private): I'm kinky and loving it. I'm primarily a Sensual Sadist with a significant Dominant streak. I often play as a Panther. I love consensual violence, and get great joy from hurting people who want me to hurt them.

Fandoms: I fell in love with Good Omens in 2000 when a college roommate gave it to me. It was genuinely the funniest, greatest thing I had ever read, and I evangelized about it to anyone who would listen. S1 of the show immediately became a comfort show, and it got me through a time of massive loss and upheaval. I put it on when everything was too hard and I needed something that made me feel like it would be OK. S2 - well we're all here still, aren't we? It dropped when I desperately needed One Good Thing for my brain to latch on to as I got through some intense pressure, and boy howdy did it lodge itself in me. (I’m deeply upset about NG’s actions, but I’m also not about to throw away something so personally meaningful because one asshole involved made some really shitty choices.)

Other fandoms in roughly chronological order: Star Wars (original trilogy made me a child nerd), X-Files (first real social fandom, and intro to fanfic!), Buffy/Angel/Firefly, LOTR, Doctor Who, Torchwood (the only other show I've been driven to write fic for). OFMD and WWDITS are great fun, though not obsessions. Any of these and more might show up.

My Writing: Writing Index Here I’ve written nearly 100K of fic in the past year! My writing signatures are vivid sensory descriptions and kinky smut. Some angst, some fluff, some really dark stuff. My Ineffables tend to be deeply in love but also kinda fucked up in their own special ways. I’m still writing, a bit slowly at the moment due to Life, but there’s some great stuff in my docs I can’t wait to share when it’s ready.

What I post/don’t post: This is my fun space filled with things that I find interesting and/or bring me joy. Expect lots of Good Omens, GO Extended Universe (aka anything Tennant and/or Sheen), queer and kink-related content, other fandom things, my writing including NSFW snippets (below a cut if I remember), fat/body positivity, cats, nature awesomeness, things that make me laugh. Posts I write off the cuff as I wake up in the morning seem to be the ones that get shared, for some reason. I almost never post about current events unless it’s good news. The world is full of fear and despair; I try to keep this space one of hope and joy. There will be NSFW content on the regular (because kink, sex, and other such adult activities are a joy for me), so if you’re uncomfortable with that, I’m not the person to follow.

Tags: Honestly, I’m inconsistent about tags so please don’t rely on my tags for your safety. I do try to spoiler tag things if it’s close to when something comes out, but other than you’re at the whims of my ADHD.

Yay! I bring back my cats as a gift for reading all of this.

#pinned intro

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shadesofdeviant · 6 months

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For the fanfic asks … all of them? 😁

HAHAHA Ginger! I mean...you said you'd ask for all of them XD So...I guess I'll answer them all XD.

🍄How do you come up with ideas for your stories?

A variety of ways, sometimes I get inspired to write an AU based on an episode of a show, or a novel etc. Or sometimes my brain just pops ideas into my head.

🍉Are you a pantser or a plotter?

I am very much a plotter. It's also why I don't often get much written because I need SO much to be planned before I can write.

🍒What genres/tropes do you find yourself using most often?

Fluff, 5+1, Domestic Slice of Life, AU's - I am an absolute sucker for AU's.

🥝Who are your literary influences, and have they shaped your own writing?

As much of a problematic person as they were, Anne Rice's first 3 vampire chronicles books were the books that got me thinking...oh I really wanna do this kind of thing. J R R Tolkien's descriptions very much shaped my own (i used to write horrifically long paragraphs). Neil Gaiman inspired my shorter style, quirky dialogue with inside jokes aimed at the reader.

🥕What's your favorite fic you've written, and why?

My favourite fic is a toss up between "Your Arms Are Like Corset Strings" (9-1-1, Buddie) and "Rainbow Coloured Monstrosity" (9-1-1: Lone Star, Tarlos).

The rest I'm gonna put under a cut haha or this post is gonna get SUPER long.

🥨How do you overcome writer's block?

When I work it out I'll tell you haha. I don't think I've ever managed beyond just pushing through and hate-smashing at the keyboard, or just waiting for the inspiration to come back by itself.

🍕What's your favorite comment you've received on a fic?

Honestly as cliche as it might sound, all comments I get are my favourites. I couldn't pick any specific ones, I enjoy comments so much.

🌭Do you have any writing rituals to help 'get in the zone'?

I use a lot of notebooks, I also get really sad and make powerpoint presentations of planning. Then I either listen to music, or put on some series that Ive seen enough times that it can be background noise.

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

I HC a few things for different people but they're not exactly huge things, but have a few examples. I headcanon that Alec Hardy is a huge fantasy novel fan. I headcanon that Eddie Diaz has chronic pain in his shoulders. I headcanon that Aziraphale hates the scent of pine.

🍭What's been your most challenging story to write, and why?

I'm writing a huge multi-part reincarnated soulmates AU, in which the soulmates meet each other throughout history and have different names etc. and it's...taking me soooo long. And honestly it's just because it so long and has so many historical points I need to research hahaha.

🍬What's a genre/trope you've never written, but might in future?

I'm...not sure tbh. Theres a lot of genre's/tropes I don't like or I'm not comfortable with so won't ever touch. But the ones I do like, I've attempted or I am in the process of attempting.

🍩What advice would you give to aspiring fic writers?

Just go for it. Find something you really, really want to see written and write it, because at the end of the day you write for yourself first and foremost. If you try to write to please everyone you'll stress yourself out too much.

🌶How dependent are you on feedback, good or bad?

Bad feedback is never warranted. I do not write for profit so therefore do not need amazon style reviews. Nor do I ask for constructive criticism. I appreciate if someone wants to tell me they like what I wrote though.

🥑What are you currently working on?

I am currently working on a bunch of things: Doctor Who x Good Omens crossover - The events of "The Giggle" with Crowley tagging along. Broadchurch Whump - 2 entries, poor Alec is getting tormented. Broadchurch x Good Omens x Rab C Nesbitt crossover - Alec, Crowley and Davina are identical triplets. Shenanigans ensue. Buddie birthday gift for someone dear to me. Buddie soulmates AU.

🍹How do you decide a story is ready to post?

I finish writing it haha. I let it come to a natural stopping point and then try not to over think it.

🍊What's a story that changed significantly from its initial idea to the final draft?

My reincarnated soulmates AU. I've changed so many historical points and condensed some and completely scrapped a whole half of it haha.

🥠What's your approach to world-building?

Powerpoints. Powerpoints and mind maps haha. If I'm going AU I will plan it like I'm Tolkien creating middle earth haha XD.

🍎How do you prioritize which stories to work on when you have multiple ideas?

I don't. My brain goes brrr and tries to plan all of them at once to the point I can't work on ANY of them haha.

🌮How do you balance the desire to write for yourself versus the desire to write for an audience?

I have been writing on and off since I was 13, and I used to write entirely for the audience and it stressed me out. Whilst I enjoy audience responses and like to receive comments confirming that they enjoyed what I wrote, if I don't like it, I won't post it, but if I enjoyed what I wrote I will love it regardless.

#rinwrites #rintrash #Fanfic writer asks #ask game #Thanks for this! haha #These took me so long to write as well

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samatheia229 · 4 months

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Gateway Fic or Ruining of Canon?: The Double-Edged Sword of Reading Fanfiction Without Knowing the Source Material

One thing you should know about me is this: I love Outsider POVs an unhealthy amount. I have a separate tab open for this specific tag on my browser and I obsessively reload it every few hours. There’s just something about them that uniquely tickles my brain in a way that other kinds of fics don’t. Maybe it’s some sense of schadenfreude, reading from this out-of-the-loop perspective while we, the readers, are in the know. The feeling of “I know something that you don’t.” Maybe it’s getting to see our favourite characters from a fresh perspective.

In DC comic Outsider POVs, specifically Batman ones, we get to see what Gotham thinks of their resident vigilantes and how the Bats’ dynamics with each other looks like to an outsider, who doesn’t know the full extent of the intricacies of their relationships.

There are a lot of reasons why I enjoy Outsider POVs, one of which is the main point of this post.

PART I: GATEWAY FIC

I really do owe it to the POV Outsider tag. Because of it, I have been introduced to so many new fandoms. They've been either the final push I needed to get into fandoms that I knew of but was never really interested in or blindside me and pull me into a new fandom entirely.

Reading spooky eldritch Danny POVs finally got me into Danny Phantom. One bored scroll and random click introduced me to ROTTMNT, a new favourite of mine (as a Disney kid who grew up with 2012 airing and disliked it, suffice to say Rise's magic and vibrant art was what drew me in). I read a Julie and the Phantoms Outsider POV fic out of curiosity, which made me look it up, and the phenomenal music was the final nail in the coffin. (Please do yourself a favour and listen to the soundtrack.) The onslaught of Good Omens fics flooding the tag following the release of S2, not that I knew it at the time, prompted me to check it out, and lo’ and behold, I am waiting for S3 and praying for my cottagecore-husbands happy ending. Reading a social media AU for Red, White and Royal Blue pushed me to finally buy the book.

They’ve also gotten me back into fandoms. I fell in love with ATLA again after reading a fic about the palace staff’s opinions on Fire Lord Zuko during the start of his reign; I got back into Assassination Classroom and Haikyuu because of delightful outsider fics. I also started reading Miraculous Ladybug fics again after dropping the whole thing mid-S3, which was a nice full-circle moment since MLB is what got me into fanfic in the first place.

The point is, Outsider POVs have been my gateway into a lot of amazing fandoms that I would not have otherwise checked out and my way back into fandoms that I haven’t been in for a while.

However, reading fanfiction without knowing the source material can be a double-edged sword. And as of last month, I finally cut myself with it.

PART II: RUINING OF CANON

Fanfiction is never really an accurate portrayal of canon. By very definition, it cannot be and it seldom is. Fanfiction has a warped lens — characters, their dynamics and the worlds in which they inhabit are written based on an author’s interpretation of the source material. Most fanfic authors actively try to change the source material when they find a part of it lacking or unsatisfactory. That’s the point of fanfiction. Fanfiction exists to explore the infinite possibilities of worlds that could have been, of timelines that never came to pass, of relationships that could have been forged and nurtured but never were.

But what happens when you, as a reader, are exposed to fanon first? What happens when you end up liking fanon more than canon?

The short answer: Disappointment and a smaller bank account.

The long answer: You could say that I had it coming. I never really liked dark fantasy, but I love every Six of Crows fanfic I’ve read so I finally decided to read the books. But, gods, I am struggling. And it sucks so much because I do love the characters and Ketterdam and the Suicide Squad-like concept. I can read fanfic for 5 hours straight but barely make my way through a single chapter. I tried switching to another book and coming back to it and still, I trudge through it. It’s terrible. Have I fallen for a romanticised, fanon version of SoC that delivers the found family of criminals that I was promised? Do the books not have that vibe and that’s why I can’t get into them, because I’ve been riding on false expectations?

This is a first for me. I have no issues with spoilers and such because I still enjoy knowing how we got to that point as much as I enjoy going in blindly. I learned the entirety of BNHA via osmosis by reading fanfiction but I still liked the anime when I watched it. Similarly, I read PJO fanfiction long before I read the series, and I still had a delightful time reading Percy's adventures. The fact that I’m not experiencing the same thing with SoC is truly, deeply upsetting. I’m still holding out hope since I'm already halfway through but I might have to DNF if this drags on for another month.

TLDR; There’s nothing wrong with reading fanfic of fandoms you’re not a part of. It might get you into it like the numerous times it did for me. But it could also end up with you liking the fics more than the source material. So, be warned, I guess.

(Also, if someone has a solution to my SoC problem, do advise, please and thank you. DNF is a last resort.)

#rant #six of crows #fanfiction #reading slump #books and reading #a small cry for help #living a little dangerously with my reading choices has come to bite me in the ass

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fandomanimatic-tournament · 1 year

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Fandom song animatic tournament: Bracket 2 Side A

The Riddle - Scarlett Pimpernel Musical

"And we all have so many faces, the real self often erases. Enticing lies flicker through our eyes! Feel the terror draw ever nearer the more you stare in the mirror, but hold your own, face the wind alone."

Crush - Tessa Violet

"I can't focus on what needs to get done I'm on notice hoping that you don't run, ah You think I'm tepid but I'm misdiagnosed 'Cause I'm a stalker I seen all of your posts, ah-ah"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

The Riddle - Scarlett Pimpernel Musical

Propaganda:

If people lie in the media then there's gonna be an animatic of this song I think. I've seen them everywhere

Animatics with the song:

Good Omens

The Magnus Archives

DSMP

Gravity Falls

Good Omens

Crush - Tessa Violet

Propaganda:

I swear that at some point(I think it was 2019) there were a million animatics with this song. That's how I found this song and I genuinely like it, I'm pretty sure it's still one of the most listened to songs on my spotify acc history or was up until recently

not only is the song an absolute banger, it is also incredibly sweet and the vibes are simply immaculate. if you want to watch fluffy flustered love, this is the way to go, i love love and i also love crush by tessa violet animatics, both of which happen to be the same thing

Animatics with the song:

BNHA Tododeku

The OWl House Lumity

MDZS WangXian

BNHA Erasermight

Miraculous Ladybug

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

Please keep in mind that I don't know all the media and fandoms of the animatics provided as examples and I don't have the time (nor the will) to research them all. Don't come into my notes or my ask box complaining about them being included, I will simply block you. If a ship animatic included is about an adult and a minor, do tell me and I'll take it out of the post

ALSO keep in mind that I don't know all the artists submitted; in fact, even if I do know them I do not know absolutely nothing about them as people (I do not have twitter nor tiktok) and I could not POSSIBLY have the time to research ALL of the artists' controversies and what came of them so PLEASE don't flood my inbox with the artists' entire crime list.

#fandom animatic tournament #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr tourney

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xoxoemynn · 2 years

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Was tagged by @wistfulcynic to share my writing process, fun! Tagging @abigailpents, @red-sky-in-mourning, @montygreen, @gayhoediaz, aaaaand....I think I've already seen all my writer mutals active on Tumblr tagged in this BUT if you have not been, please consider yourself tagged.

Do you write in order? I do. I have to. I will happily tell other people that if they're stuck, they should skip the scene and come back later, but when I try to do it, I fail. My brain just won't let me proceed with the next until I know exactly what happens in the moments leading up to it, because WHAT IF SCENE A INFLUENCES SCENE B? I do wish I could jump around, but I can't.

How fully formed does your writing come out the first try? Pretty damn finished. I may go back in and add some flourishes, but overall, I'd say it's about 95% there.

How many drafts do you go through? Depends if it's a one shot or something like WTDB. One shots usually it's first draft, possibly pass it off to a beta reader, revised draft, and then I do another round of editing once I upload to AO3 because I swear I always find new things to fix once I see it in a totally new format, bringing us to a total of three. WTBD? Depending on the chapter, but usually looking at five or six.

Tell me about your process. I've realized I have two non-negotiables. The first is music. Sometimes I don't have music on because I feel like I need to Focus and it turns out I just don't write anything. I created a writing playlist for WTDB that basically just became my writing playlist, period, because my brain now associates it with writing. Other non-negotiable is an outline. I need one. Even if it's just bullet points. Every time I try to pants it I just end up spinning my wheels until I give in and jot at least a few notes down.

Again, I'd say one shots are different than a longer piece like WTDB. One shot I come up with an idea, write down the gist of the idea and maybe key lines/details I want to include because my memory is shit and I WILL forget. Then I just open up the ole Google doc and get going. I'm a simple lady.

WTDB was a totally different ballgame. I used Scrivener for that, and I can't imagine writing something of that length without it. I had a tab for each character, as well as pages for key settings, descriptions, references, etc. before I officially started writing. Especially with the intro character background stories, I was often shimmying sections around, and Scrivener made it really easy to do that. Then I'd write a chapter, immediately send it off to @margotandthefox for a pulse check off "does this make sense, does this work, does anything stand out to you as off?" Get it back, make edits. Once I had a nice chonk together, I'd send off to @monksofthescrew to beta that entire section of chapters. I'd then do some initial revisions, then another round when it's actually time for the chapter to go up, and a final one on AO3. (Although with ch. 5 I skipped AO3 because I had already been looking at it so much and it was weirdly liberating.)

Also I'd be remiss if I didn't mention I'd be lost without @margotandthefox, who frequently lets me just throw half-baked ideas at her, sometimes via rambling text, sometimes rambling audio message, and work through areas when I'm stuck. Highly, highly recommend you get a friend like that. 💕

Only other note I thought I'd share is I read my writing out loud as I edit, which was a trick I learned from my days as a writing tutor. And when I read along in my head, the voice narrating WTDB, especially the intro scenes, is the voice of God/the narrator from Good Omens. Now you know.

#wheeee this was fun thank you!#tag games

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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years

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Prelude (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 1 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.5 K Premise: Three moments leading up to their fateful meeting.

Author’s Note: In which I try to explain why MC didn’t know what Ethan, her medical hero, looked like. Also, my (late) fic for the book 1 replay. Thank you @aestheticartsx for pre-reading!

Three.

Harper frowns down at the file in her hand, her sharp gaze burning into the collated papers as though coercing them to solve their dilemma once and for all. From the end of the table, Cyrus lets out an inpatient sigh.

“It's very simple, Harper,” he drones. Ethan's fists clench reflexively at his sides, urging to remind Cyrus that Harper is the chief now and warrants more respect than his insufferable tone is offering. “The last spot should go to the candidate from Harvard. We are the best hospital on the east coast, after all. It only makes sense.”

Harper looks unconvinced and still, her pensive expression remains fixed in the file.

“An ivy league degree does not a good doctor make,” Naveen adds sagely into the ensuing silence. His smile is placid enough but Ethan knows the older doctor well enough to hear the warning edge in his voice. Evidently, even Naveen disapproves of Cyrus's lack of respect for their new chief.

Cyrus scoffs.

“And if you need further proof of that, Doctor Cyrus,” Ethan begins dryly, eyes boring into him. “Then look no further than your side of the conference table.”

A few attendings—at least the ones who have become increasingly tired of Cyrus's boastful proclamations about his alma mater—laugh quietly at the jab. Cyrus splutters, his face an unpleasant shade of red as he glares daggers at Ethan.

“This candidate,” Harper says at last, unaware or uncaring of what she had just interrupted. Her two lone words are enough to command the room's attention at once, but her hazel eyes are on Ethan. “You're convinced she's the best fit for Edenbrook?”

Ethan meets her eye and pauses.

It's the first time they look at each other directly since he ended their relationship two weeks prior. Despite the brief time apart and an unshakeable resolve to be professional, his stomach sinks heavy, like a stone.

Harper looks as graceful and dignified as ever, keeping every emotion in check. Yet, as she holds his gaze, Ethan can see a small flicker or sadness and his stomach twists with guilt.

“I'm positive, Chief Emery,” Ethan responds. “This candidate exhibits the type of potential we look for at Edenbrook.”

The use of her new title seems to snap Harper out of a reverie.

“She graduated top of her class and ranked in the top percent among our chosen cohort of interns,” Ethan continues. “I've also looked into her research and it's among the most promising I've seen. I recommend her without reservations.”

With a single nod and a sense of finality, Harper closes the file.

“Then it's settled. We have our last intern.”

“You're joking, Harper,” Cyrus blurts out, incensed. “We're giving a coveted spot to the candidate from UCLA?”

He says the name of the school with so much derision, Ethan feels his ears flare up.

“That Doctor Ayala?” Cyrus continues.

“Doctor Allende,” Ethan corrects, jaw clenched.

“Don't we have enough charity cases in the cohort already? This is token—”

But the vitriol is quickly interrupted by several things happening at once: Ethan darting forward, fists ready; a startled, collective gasp from the other attendings; Naveen, quietly intercepting Ethan and halting his steps with a steady hand, a feat that is impressive for a man much older and shorter; and Harper, also on her feet, directing a disgusted look at Cyrus she doesn’t bother to disguise behind professionalism.

“I would think very carefully about finishing that sentence if I were you, Doctor Cyrus,” she says, her voice low but with the impact of a clashing gavel. “And I ask that you address me as Chief Emery moving forward.”

Two.

“If you end up marrying someone with a Boston accent,” Laurel is saying with a devilish grin. “I will never be able to keep a straight face when they talk. Pahk the cah in Hahvahd Yahd.”

Her older sister peers at Lilac over the flaps of an open cardboard box, the glint in her eye growing wickeder still. “Imagine what they’d sound like in bed. You're so fucking gawgeous, dawctaw—”

Before her sister can escalate that impression into disturbing territory, Lilac silences her with a well-aimed pillow. It succeeds in hitting Laurel straight in the face but also in turning her laughter into a cackle.

“Are you going to help me pack or not?” Lilac says sternly, though the effect is entirely ruined by the smile that manages to break through.

Laurel raises her hands in defeat and returns to packing Lilac's books neatly. They work in companionable silence for a few minutes with nothing but their favorite music blaring from the speakers of Lilac's phone.

“Is this the book?” her sister asks suddenly, turning a worn textbook in her hands and studying it closely. “The one written by your medical crush?”

For some inexplicable reason, Lilac feels her face flare with heat. “He's not my crush.”

“You just worship the ground he walks on,” her sister returns, flipping through Diagnostic Principles. “Though, you're right. In order to have a crush you'd need to know what he looks like.”

Laurel reaches the back cover, frowning. “Why wouldn't he add an author picture?”

Lilac says nothing, biting the inside of her cheek. She can't blame her sister for being curious and a bit disappointed at the lack of visual representation. After all, Lilac had felt crestfallen when all she found in the author's information section was the green and blue Edenbrook logo.

“Maybe he's a private man and doesn't like his picture out in the world? Maybe he wants aspiring doctors to focus on his research and not his looks?”

“So he's either really hot or really ugly,” Laurel returns, unmoved by Lilac's impassioned speech. “Have you ever tried looking him up online?”

Lilac had been tempted many times, but she was fiercely adamant about keeping her medical hero a mystery outside of his work. It already felt invasive enough to track down his undergrad research and every other minor paper he'd ever written. When it came to Ethan Ramsey, Lilac had searched every corner of scholarly journals and databases, absorbing every piece of his work with an adoration that was already embarrassing enough.

Plus, she would never admit it out loud, but she was also afraid that knowing what the brilliant doctor looked like would somehow ruin him for her. Or at least, alter the image of him she had constructed in her head for so many years. It felt right to continue seeing Dr. Ramsey as the brilliant force that pushed her into her dream career and not as a definitive set of features.

“It doesn't matter what he looks like. He's the best and I'm going there to learn from him, not to judge his appearance.”

“I'm Googling him,” Laurel announces, already typing furiously into her phone. After a few seconds, her phone returns results and her eyebrows shoot up, staying suspended for longer than normal.

“What?” Lilac asks despite herself.

“Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“Just… wow.” Laurel stares down at the screen with such awestruck amazement that Lilac feels a powerful wave of curiosity. “He’s shirtless in some of these.”

“What?” Lilac yelps, feeling her face flare up at once.

“Yeah, apparently you’re not his only fan. Tons of people have taken his picture.” Her sister seems to blink out of a trance, turning the screen toward Lilac. “Here, see for your—”

But Lilac turns her gaze away almost out of reflex.

“No!”

The word comes out far more impassioned than Lilac intended. Still, she resolutely turns her head. “That feels...invasive, somehow?”

“Come on—”

“I'm serious, Lau. I don't want to see. I'm already nervous enough about this whole thing without having to worry about this wow-worthy revelation. And besides, taking someone’s shirtless picture without their consent and posting it online is already bad enough. It feels wrong supporting that.”

Laurel rolls her eyes.

“I'm going to see him in less than a week anyway. With clothes. In a professional setting. As I should. If I waited all these years, I can wait that long.”

A knowing, devious sort of smile pulls at her sister's face. She mumbles something over the music and Lilac can swear it sounds oddly like: “...worth the wait.”

One.

Ethan should have taken the broken and sputtering coffee machine in his apartment as an omen. His morning definitely declined from then on, starting with gridlock traffic and ending with an infuriatingly long line at his favorite coffee place.

The ultimate lack of coffee is probably his fault because Ethan had spent too much time deliberating whether or not he wanted to go with store bought coffee on what promised to be a grueling day. When he had finally made up his mind, however, the line was already out the door.

Irritated and caffeine deprived, he drives back to Edenbrook.

“You're earlier than we agreed,” Naveen says as soon as Ethan accepts his incoming call. “What was the point of rearranging the whole schedule if you were going to come in when you pleased anyway?”

“I'm not even through the gates yet. What are you spying on me?”

“No need. You forget how predictable you are.”

Naveen chuckles as he says this which eases some of Ethan's irritation. The older doctor had purposely scheduled him later in the day to give him some peace on the first day of the new intern cohort.

Naturally, Ethan arrived several hours early, as per his custom.

“Or maybe you know me too well by now.”

Naveen's benevolent laughter turns into a dry but lingering cough on the other end of the line. Instantly, Ethan's insides freeze over, his stomach sinking unpleasantly.

He opens his mouth to question his mentor about this persisting symptom, when sheer reflex prompts him to stomp on the breaks so suddenly, his body jerks forward then slams against his seat.

“Shit.”

Something—or rather someone— had crossed the parking lot road right in front of his car, standing mere inches away from his front bumper.

“Ethan?” Naveen asks through the speaker.

When Ethan recovers and regains movement of his arms and legs, he feels the spike of adrenaline give way to pure annoyance.

The offending pedestrian is a young brunette clad in blue scrubs, a medical intern by the looks of it. She stands there in the middle of the road, her mouth hanging open in a way that would have been comical to Ethan if he wasn't so irritated.

They stare at one another, though Ethan is convinced she can't see much through the tinted glass.

Then, right before his eyes, she seems to recover from the shock. Drawing herself to her full height, she glares at Ethan. At least, he thinks she's glaring through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.

Ethan almost scoffs.

She has the audacity to be angry when she was the one who made the rookie mistake of aimlessly crossing in front of him?

Who the hell does she think she is?

“Asshole,” she mutters, the word quite audible through his windows.

Before a stunned Ethan can respond, she turns on her heel and rushes toward the hospital, a curtain of dark hair dancing behind her.

“What was that?” Naveen asks, still on the call.

“I hate interns,” Ethan responds much to the older doctor's amusement.

Bonus:

Author’s Note: In other words, my MC was late to her orientation because of Ethan and that’s how she met him in the waiting room lol. Thank you so much for reading!

*Tagging Separately

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #Ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #Oph book club #playchoices #My writing

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cobaincreates · 4 years

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smart decisions

warnings: drinking, angst, smut, fingering, nsfw, 18+

count: 10k+

hiiiiiiiii so i’m a horndog & i can’t get enough of rafe cameron (or drew) or college rafe & i also wanna cry over them so here you go. let me know whatcha thinkin’. please i’m begging you.

also the photo isn’t mine i got it from here!

songs i imagined - this one & this one

— — —

transferring colleges had to have been your smartest decision to date. going from putting your strengths into a place that was not willing to acknowledge them to, now, receiving credit where credit was most deservingly due. your first choice for school had been some place close to home, you figured why not opt for the cheaper option to save yourself, and your parents, a little money. you spent a few months getting into the swing of things, heading to class each day with a fresh mind and hopeful thoughts. it wasn’t until six months in that you realized you deserved so much better, and at a better school.

it took time, figuring out your best bet and where to go and all the finances. you definitely grew impatient a year in, trying to stick it out at home to receive your credits. but once the moment arrived, you packed all your things and moved states away. you loved it; you loved the classes, you loved your friends, you loved your professors. you were completely happy with your choice to go. your parents might not have been, but the weekly calls home for your progress report were substitute enough.

wednesday, 5 p.m.

you scribbled a doodle you had been going over and over, darkening the lines so much you saw it behind your eyelids now. you snapped out of it and looked back at your textbook.

the library was so quiet, you heard pages being turned from every corner, the chewing of gum from a tense jaw, and the soft snores of someone passed out in one of the private cubicles across the way. none of those things distracted you really since you had come to the study session with a couple of your friends, all three of you making a pact to get shit done.

melly was able to listen to music while she studied and was more of a typer as her fingers moved fast along the keys of her laptop. she came dressed in her comfiest clothes, sporting a knit sweater and joggers. lina had snacks across the table to keep her sustained. she was a strong believer that she learned better while being fed. it made you laugh still. she was a writer like you, very organized in her notes with highlighters and different colored pens. she even drew headers for each page for the hell of it. you wondered where she got the drive. then there was you, black ink, the main topic underlined, things to remember written repeatedly. you learned better after writing things down, you couldn’t just read a book and have the information implanted in your brain. as much as you wished it were that easy.

you were studying for an upcoming psychology test, one that you were sure would be a piece of cake given how well you did in the class itself. it was one you didn’t plan on taking, but you needed another course to get enough credits for the year.

lina was munching on some almonds, turning a page in her notebook, and picking up a blue pen. you were in the middle of writing a definition down and filling up the last of the page, your hand starting to cramp with how much pressure you were using. you flexed it once you put your pen down and squeezed an imaginary ball.

both yours and lina’s eyes flicked up to melly across the table who let out a low moan. she was pulling her headphones off and looking in the completely opposite direction of her computer.

“why is he so fine?” she asked, low enough for the two of you to hear.

you looked over your shoulder at the same time lina did and searched in the general area melly was focused on. all you saw was a guy walking through the library, sporting a backpack and a lacrosse sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head.

“he really knows what he’s doing, huh?” lina said dreamily.

you furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him turn into a row of books and you glanced at melly as you faced the other way, planning on getting back to your work. melly was dazed as she still looked in his direction.

“who is that?” you asked after a moment of both of them still ogling.

lina turned toward you as melly closed her laptop a little to lean over it. “what did you just say?”

you looked between the two identical shocked expressions and laughed helplessly. “who is that?”

“oh, i forgot. you’re still new.” melly nodded in semi-acceptance then became serious. “that’s rafe cameron. he’s on the lacrosse team and we’re kind of obsessed with him.”

“it’s alarming,” lina said. she gave a quick glance over her shoulder then looked back at her notebook. “i love making myself sad over him not noticing me, but it’s fine. what’s even more alarming is how he’s still single.”

“i cannot express to you, y/n, how good,” melly emphasized, squeezing her eyes shut, “he looks with a little sweat.”

“you guys sound like stalkers.” you pointed out, smiling a little at their explanations.

“i’m not denying it. i said it was alarming.” lina shrugged as she looked from her textbook to her writing. “we’ve talked to him a couple of times at some parties, he’s a super nice guy but we just find him attractive. i think if i were a freshman, i’d be pathetically pining after him.”

melly hummed in agreement, her chin now propped in her palm. she wore a doe-like look, gazing between yours and lina’s heads and into the bookshelves. “don’t they have a game tomorrow? we should go.”

“it’s away.” lina said, but you had already lost interest in the topic and started reading a new chapter. you picked your pen back up, the muscles in your hand now relaxed, and the boy in the bookshelves out of your mind.

monday, 9 a.m.

you were going to be late and you hated the thought. there was no way you could miss this test when you had done nothing but study every last page for it. you even lost track of how many pages of notes you wrote for the test alone. it would be such a waste to miss it and it wasn’t worth getting a negative grade.

being late was not at all your fault. you had set your alarm early, eaten breakfast and read a few more chapters to get ahead, and packed your bag up so you’d be ready after a quick shower. turned out that all the showers on your floor were broken, the yellow “do not cross” tape like a bad omen. you started muttering to yourself as you carried along your shower caddy, going down to the next floor and finding a line to wait in. you knew it was probably your best bet instead of racing to another floor to check if there were more lines, plus you didn’t know how much time you had. you probably annoyed some people with the fidgeting, but all you could think about was the test.

it was ridiculous how long the showers took and how you had to leave your hair damp as you ran back up physical stairs. you burst through your door, threw your bathroom things on your bed, grabbed your bag and the few books you couldn’t stuff in. while leaving, the door shutting behind you, you made do with damp hair, twisting it up and out of your face. as you checked the time, you figured out that you had eight minutes exactly to get across campus and in your seat with a writing utensil ready.

even though you were late, you still held doors open for people, and you dodged others walking the opposite direction instead of the other way around. you kept checking the time as if the minutes would stop moving.

just as you were looking into your bag, your legs moving fast and assuredly, you ran right into something hard. you dropped the textbooks that you had been clutching, even with a death grip on them, and your bag slipped from your shoulder. a notebook poked out along with a pen rolling away on the walkway.

“woah,” the hard surface said.

“i’m so sorry, i was not looking.” you said quickly and bent down to get your things. of course, this would happen while you were in a rush. you supposed you were lucky it didn’t involve cars. god, that would’ve been so much worse.

“nah, it’s alright.” they said easily and bent down beside you, retrieving your things.

you scrambled for everything and shoved the notebook back into your bag. you spotted your keychain near their foot, their fingers closing around it before you could reach for it. you finally looked up as they held the key out to you, the ring hanging from their finger.

rafe cameron.

he looked different now that you could see his face better. and also, because he was so close this time. it was odd to know now that he had blue eyes and a light ghosting of stubble along his jaw and cheeks. it felt too personal being this close to someone you only knew the name of.

you felt a little silly for bumping into him, but you didn’t let it show. “thank you,” you said as you took the key from him and stood quickly to walk away. lina and melly surely wouldn’t give this up when you told them.

rafe had watched after you for a moment before turning back to his friend topper, raising his eyebrows in reference to what happened, and continuing their conversation.

you made it to class about three minutes late and sat in your seat, finally taking a breath. you settled in, putting your things at your feet, and digging around for a pen. all thoughts of bumping into rafe cameron left your mind.

8 p.m.

“you what?” melly coughed violently as she composed herself. lina was clutching her stomach, nearly dying of hysterics when the drink came out of melly’s nose a second earlier.

you held your head in your hands and inwardly groaned at having to tell the story. you were out to dinner with the two girls, munching on french fries and milkshakes. it was typical for you three to hang out on mondays since melly usually had a bad case of them each week. you had innocently slipped in that you just so happened to run into rafe cameron this morning and well, you hadn’t expected that to be melly’s reaction.

“i ran into him. i was late this morning and i wasn’t looking.” you could feel the embarrassment settle in as you recounted the minor event, at least to you.

“did he say anything?” her eyes were blown wide as she leaned across the table.

“i didn’t try to have a conversation with him.” you shrugged and picked at the plate of fries at the center of the table. melly gave you a look of mild bewilderment, the shock of it wearing off.

“missed opportunity.” lina joked, taking a long sip of her shake. “i wouldn’t know what to say either if i ran into him.”

you felt your shoulders loosen as the topic was slowly changing. melly laughed at lina’s remark, teasing her that she would’ve frozen up from bumping into anybody. you smiled and were glad that both of them didn’t take the story too seriously.

minutes later you were laughing loudly, head thrown back as melly was telling a story about her family and a public mishap with a tire. it was interesting to you to hear about what it was like growing up in a completely different environment than the one you did. you supposed that’s something you loved about college; getting to meet people from so many other states and cities.

you were smiling to yourself as you dipped a fry into your shake. just as you put it into your mouth and looked across the table at melly, her composure changed.

“oh, fuck.” she whispered and noticeably tried to look away. “don’t look.”

both you and lina turned around to look toward the front door. a dense group of bodies was coming in through the door, the atmosphere’s volume increasing with their chatter. toward the back you recognized rafe cameron. you weren’t sure at all what it was that made your heart clench in your chest.

“i said don’t look!” melly whispered louder. “oh, god. okay. act normal.” melly straightened up, trying not to be obvious with looking in their direction. you laughed and sat back in the seat. lina practically sunk into hers.

you didn’t watch as they approached, but you did look up once rafe entered your peripheral vision. he was with the guy from this morning, even if you hadn’t noticed him before. you just remembered rafe crouched in front of you while someone just as tall stood behind him, waiting. both of them were sporting lacrosse sweatshirts, along with some others in the group.

“hey, rafe.” melly said easily like she hadn’t just been freaking out over him a second ago.

you watched rafe lift his chin, smiling genuinely at her. you didn’t think anything of it when he glanced at you, the recognition so obvious as his face changed. he continued to walk to his table though, eyes steady on you for what felt like too long.

melly turned around and sank over the table, her mouth open in shock. “oh my god,” she said above the surface.

“oh my god,” lina said, turning to you in bafflement. “i feel like i’m in an alternate universe. did that just happen?”

“he just recognized me.” you brushed it off.

“no, y/n, he knew you. that was longer than five seconds.”

“why are you guys so obsessed with him anyways?” you laughed, trying to take the attention off you.

lina shrugged, seeming taken aback with the question. “i don’t really know.”

“because he’s gorgeous, that’s why.” melly intervened, dipping a fry into her shake.

you looked over melly’s shoulder, wondering what it was exactly that was so intriguing about the lacrosse player. you had had your fair share of athletes and could agree on some being drop dead gorgeous. maybe rafe cameron was just a nice guy all around and melly and lina just had pleasant interactions with him. maybe he was the type of college boy that looked out for everyone’s wellbeing and that’s what made your friends obsess over him. it could be a number of things.

thursday, 8 p.m.

you rubbed your eyes, yawning in the middle of it, and lay back on your bed. you had just closed your computer after typing up a 10-page essay. it was nine when you started it this morning. you were just glad your one class of the day was canceled and that you had time to write the paper before next week. plus, there were no classes tomorrow, and you could have a whole day of doing nothing. you were stoked, to say the least.

feeling a vibration beside you, you reached for your phone and opened a text from lina. incoming in 5, it said, followed by a rattling of knocks on your door. you rolled off the bed and shuffled over, finding her and melly with wide smiles. it was infectious as you felt your own smile appearing on your face.

“what are you guys doing here?” you asked curiously, stepping aside to let them in. the door clicked softly shut as you followed melly to your bed where she went to sit. lina leaned against the wall across from you, careful of your roommate’s things.

“we were invited to a party and we were wondering if you wanted to come with.” lina said, sharing a quick look with melly.

you glanced between them, eyes narrowing. “what’s so special about this party?”

“god, how can you even tell that?” melly asked, slightly rolling her eyes.

“you guys have known each other longer than i've known either of you, but you’re easy to read.” you laughed.

“i don’t like that.” melly said quietly to herself.

you grinned at her, noting her curls springing around her face. melly usually had her hair pulled back out of the way and it was very rare to see her with a different hairstyle. there had been some days where she had braids and you enjoyed seeing the change of pace. lina on the other hand always let her hair down. tonight though, she had straightened it and thrown it into a high ponytail. you hadn’t really gone to a lot of parties with the girls, so seeing them all done-up was always fascinating.

“seriously, what’s the deal?” you asked again, looking to lina since she was the one who had proposed the idea.

she shared another look with melly again before finally coming out with it. “it’s at rafe cameron’s apartment.”

you felt that clenching again in your chest, in that same spot from last night. you swallowed, feeling how dry your mouth was in the span of three seconds.

“well, it’s his and topper’s apartment, so not technically just his.” lina said, waving her hand in enunciation. she crossed her arms. “i have this study group with topper and he invited me and mel and anyone else really.”

“come on, it’ll be fun.” melly said, nudging your arm.

you looked at the girl beside you, ready to say no mostly in panic of seeing rafe. you had nothing to worry about or freak out over, but it was a scary thought. so many things happened at parties. so many things could happen.

“okay,” you said easily.

the prior fears dissipated quickly as lina and melly gave a small cheer and encouraged you to get ready, and to take your time. you spent the next ten minutes asking them what you should wear, going through your side of the closet. all three of you agreed on a plaid skirt you had bought a few weeks before on a spontaneous shopping trip. you only wore it once since then and had been meaning to pull it out again. you paired it with a sweater, something easy to keep you warm through the night instead of bringing a jacket along. lina and melly agreed excitedly when you changed and raised your eyebrows, searching for approval.

9 p.m.

holding on tightly to lina’s hand, you laughed hysterically to the point of tears and a clear indicator in the nether region that you had to pee, badly. a connie bailey rae cover was playing from a speaker near you, your laughter probably not as loud as you thought it to be as you calmed down. melly stopped her ridiculous reenactment and pulled an exaggerated disgusted face as she dodged someone trying to dance with her. you shook with laughter and took a long sip of your drink, tilting your head back to finish it in one gulp.

the party had been way more fun than you thought it would be, especially when you walked the four blocks to get there. lucky for you, you had been smart and worn flat boots. the apartment was a good size for the event and had plenty of space to gather, enough left over for those that wanted a break from either dancing or just to relax. some people you didn’t recognize had the large tv on, a video game on the bright screen. there was plenty of shouting coming from their general direction, a wave of arms and pointing of rigid fingers.

you had seen rafe in passing, but never made the initial eye contact as if to let each other know that you were near. stepping into the apartment and being greeted with his friend topper, you felt like you were intruding or trespassing by being in rafe’s space. you didn’t know him, or topper for that matter, and it felt odd to you to be in their physical home.

“where’s the bathroom?” you asked lina as melly went to get more snacks.

lina stood up on her toes and pointed at a closed door. “i'm pretty positive it’s over there.”

you gave her a nod and walked in the direction she pointed you in, finding a couple people waiting against the wall. you took a place there and acted as a fly on the wall for a total of five minutes since the line went fast. once inside, you took a deep breath, feeling refreshed at the open window and the cool air coming in.

you dried your hands and placed the towel back where it was on the counter and opened the door. the next person waiting rushed in rather quickly, making you stumble against the doorway. you laughed to yourself and felt the rush of sudden wind as the door slammed.

excusing yourself past a small group, you headed toward the refreshments. you were already thirsty after having emptied your bladder seconds before, but you were aware it was just the addictive alcohol buzzing through your system. it was crowded closer to the drinks, rightfully so, and it only took one person to move for you to see rafe acting as a stand-in bartender.

part of you wanted to run right back out of the kitchen and find lina and melly, but the other part of you wanted to give a swift kick to your rear. you chose the latter and walked over to where he was at the counter. he was in the middle of pouring someone else’s drink and you stood on his other side, taking in his appearance while you still could. the blue hat on his head read “obx”, turned backwards. he wore an off-white t-shirt, the graphic design on the back drawing you in. you were too busy staring at his shoulders molded with the fabric to realize he had turned around and you were now staring at his chest. you blinked up at his face, smiling lightly.

“hi.” he said, a small lilt to his voice as he recognized you once again.

“hi.”

“can i get you something?” he asked, and you felt your shoulders falter a little, thinking that was all he was going to say to you. stick to his image of drink tender and have you go on your way. but his body told you differently as he turned fully to face you.

“um, i can get it.” you said, the instant flight taking effect at the very prospect of being shot down.

rafe nodded and stepped out of the way, moving further into the corner of the counter. you smiled at him and poured your own drink, mixing up your favorite. rafe still stood there and you could feel the strong vice his eyes had on you. it made you a little self-conscious, but you relaxed with a deep breath.

“i never got your name.” rafe said just as you took a sip and turned to leave the kitchen. “you know, from the other day.”

“that’s because i was too busy bumping into you.” you let out a small laugh and stepped closer to him, out of the way if someone wanted a drink. you turned your back to the fridge and tried to find a spot to lean on as rafe looked down at you, a smile playing at his lips. “i am sorry about that again. i was in a rush for a class.”

“it’s no problem. i’m just glad you’re okay, we hit pretty hard.”

“y/n.” you said and held out a hand respectfully.

“rafe,” he slipped his hand into yours, warm and strong, and smiled widely.

“i think i’ve heard your name only a million times in the past week.” you admitted, knowing that lina and melly would kill for brownie points. “my friends are a bit obsessed with you and fully willing to educate the newbie.”

“obsessed, huh? lina and mel, right?”

you nodded and took another sip. rafe reached on the counter and grabbed a handful of pretzels. he held some out to you. “they’re nice girls,” rafe said easily. “i’ve hung out with them a couple times, but i didn’t know they were obsessed.” he laughed to himself.

you munched on a pretzel and froze at an idea. “you’re not going to tell them i told you, are you?”

“not unless you want me to.”

you stared at him for a bit longer than you planned, then let out a breath and took another pretzel from his hand. it was odd to be sharing food with him when just the other day you felt like your heart was tearing in your chest. at the moment, you could only feel a dull ache.

“so, how do you like it?” rafe asked.

“like what?”

“campus, the college.”

you nodded and swallowed some of your drink to wash the pretzels down. “things have been really great. i enjoy it here. it’s an immense difference than my first college back home, so i’m happy.”

rafe smiled. “and the party?”

you followed his nod to the people around you, glancing to your original spot where you left lina. you didn’t see her anywhere until some people moved and you found her and melly sat on the couch. they were playing the video game with a whole mess of guys. you grinned.

“the party is great.” you commended, looking back at him. he had finished the rest of the pretzels in his hand.

“good.” he nodded. “i always get nervous when top and i invite people over. we’ve done it a bunch of times, but there’s always the possibility of something going wrong.”

“well, you’re doing great. both of you. hopefully, nothing horrible happens.”

11 p.m.

you would be lying if you said that your conversation with rafe from hours ago wasn’t still running through your head. it was difficult not to think about it when you kept seeing him more often throughout the party. most of the time you’d catch his eye, or vice versa, and instantly smile. you’d then recall the sound of his laugh and would even hear it from feet away. the clenching in your chest was now accompanied by a swirling in your stomach.

you were pacing yourself with your drinks, but by now you were on your fifth of the night. you were completely aware of everything around you and you were enjoying the ongoing buzz. lina and melly were a bit more inebriated than you were, which only added to the fun.

the two girls in front of you were swaying to a song together, not even close to being slow tempo. it was very upbeat, the bass pumping through the walls. the front door to the apartment was now open since it had begun to get warmer with the more and more people that were joining. a few windows were thrown open as well.

“you remember how in freshman year you fell down that flight of stairs and twisted your ankle and practically bashed your head in and then your mom yelled at you and then your sister called to tell you she was pregnant and then your dad! oh my god, and then your dad was like ‘hey i’m thinking of leaving your mom so uh, yeah’ and then your mom was so pissed but then she was fine because she found a total hunk of a man to replace your dad like that,” melly snapped her fingers as your body started to shake with laughter. lina was laughing too, not at all bothered with a quick recap of her, very shitty, first year.

“yes, thank you for reminding me mel. i love when we have tantalizing conversation like this.” lina leaned her head against the others’.

mel giggled, a few hiccups escaping. “i think i need to pee.”

“god, you’re like a peeing machine.” lina sighed and tightened her arm around melly.

“that’s what drinking will do to you.”

lina rolled her eyes and looked at you as she brought melly to the bathroom. you asked quickly if she needed help, but she shook her head and promised they’d be back soon. you watched them go then turned back to the party, turning too fast and not feeling the presence behind you in the moment. a cool liquid pooled over and down your chest, soaking the fabric of your sweater. you gasped at the contact, your mouth dropping open and looking down at the dark stain.

“i— “ you looked up to tell the person it was fine before an apology came out, finding that off-white t-shirt on a very familiar blue-eyed person. “we have to stop meeting like this.”

rafe looked horrified at having spilled his drink all over your sweater, his eyes wide as they stared at your chest.

“that’s the most cliché thing to say.” you said, laughing lightly to ease the tension so obvious in his features.

he let out a laugh too. “you can borrow something of mine. come on,” he held out his hand and you took it willingly, realizing some people were staring at the accident way too curiously. you let rafe lead you up the stairs, the complete darkness on the landing causing you to focus solely on his hand in yours.

rafe opened a door and flipped a light on, your eyes adjusting to the brightness. he led you further in and closed the door behind you before rushing to his dresser, a whole display of cologne bottles on top. as he rummaged through the drawers, you stood just in front of the door, a little timid to step further in. you were holding your sweater away from your chest, already feeling the stickiness of liquid on your skin.

“how’s this one?” he asked, holding out a simple white one.

“you don’t have to give me a shirt.”

“it’s the least i can do. the bathroom is right there.” he handed the shirt to you and nodded just behind your shoulder. you thanked him and went in, closing the door with a click. you pulled the sweater off and dampened a washcloth, wiping the dried drink from your skin. pulling the shirt on, you relished in how soft it was and styled the piece of fabric so it looked better with your skirt.

rafe was sitting on a couch next to his bed, more like a futon, his hands in his pockets and hat off his head. he looked up as you came out, straightening his posture and looking you up and down.

“i’m sorry.” he smiled guiltily.

you smiled and walked over, moving around the small circular coffee table and sitting next to him. “guess it was payback for the other day,” you teased as you folded your sweater and set it next to you.

rafe rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. you glanced at him as you leaned back, feeling the softness and rigidness of the futon. “you look good in my shirt.”

“i feel better in a less damp one.” you said, easing the fluttering in your stomach. your chest clenched again as you crossed your legs.

glancing around rafe’s room, you admired the movie posters on the walls and the multiple lacrosse paraphernalia. one of his jerseys lay crumpled at the end of his bed, the comforter pulled over the pillows to look made. it was better than you did with your bed, you were pretty sure yours was unmade and messy.

it was a decent sized room, plus the bathroom was nice to have. you’d kill for your own bathroom again. it would be nice not to wait in a line. you told yourself that you just had to figure out an earlier schedule so you could beat the crowd.

after a once-over of rafe’s room, you looked over at him to find him already looking at you. he was fully analyzing your face, you could see his eyes flickering to different parts.

you swallowed and licked your lips. “what?”

“nothing.” he said quickly and sighed, laying his head back on the couch.

you squinted at him, now tracing over his features. he looked nervous from what you could tell, his hands moving in his pockets. you stared at his chest moving up and down slowly, the intake of breath coming as it grew bigger. his adam’s apple protruded, bobbing slightly as he swallowed. your chest clenched once again as you looked at his face, watching him look up at the ceiling. he really was handsome. you shifted in your seat, switching your leg over the other.

“that look wasn’t nothing.” you commented, breathing in.

“what look?” he turned his head toward you, eyebrows slightly pushing together. you watched every change in his face, from his eyebrows to his eyes blinking then to his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“the look of ‘i want to eat you up’.”

he laughed, the couch shaking with him. “what does that entail?”

“major gazing and bedroom eyes.”

“bedroom eyes, huh?” he hummed and lifted his head. his lips tugged at a smirk.

“am i imagining things?” you asked seriously, slightly doubting if you made the right call. maybe he wasn’t thinking what you thought he had been. maybe you were imagining things.

rafe didn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. the smirk alone told you that you had been right. his hands flexed in his pockets, hard for you to miss. a few silent minutes passed, the both of you listening to the party still going on downstairs.

“if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.” you said quietly. after a moment you figured he hadn’t heard you, that he had lost himself in staring at the carpet.

“can i?”

“yes,” you nodded.

rafe sat up and met your eyes, moving closer until his thigh was touching yours. you shifted your upper half closer to him, feeling a wave of shivers run through you the second his hand touched your cheek. you instinctively pressed your legs tighter together as your heartbeat picked up and rafe lowered over you, licking his lips once more. they were soft and firm, just as they needed to be. he tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing just beside your mouth as you kissed.

seconds later, you brought your own hands to his face. you were eager to touch him, to feel the solidness of him against you. it was mostly a reassurance that this was in fact happening and that you weren’t dreaming. you pushed a hand into his hair just behind his ear and mirrored the last few pecks he was leaving you before he fully pulled away. you felt a pinch of disappointment, the small taste for him now growing bigger. you had to stop your hands from pulling him back.

he pulled away only a little and you opened your eyes to see him still so close and looking over your face. your breaths mingled together.

“what?” you huffed, letting your head fall back for a second in slight irritation. you just wanted to kiss him again. you let your hand slide down from his hair, resting near his shoulder. you wanted to squeeze the muscle under your hand.

“nothing.” he said again, eyes flickering down to your lips once more. he smiled, holding himself up on the back of the couch. his thumb brushed the same spot on your cheek. “don’t tell anyone, but i’ve been imagining this since you showed up tonight.”

you returned your hand to his hair, slightly scratching with a smile. “i knew you spilled your drink on purpose.”

rafe grinned widely and moved back into you. this kiss was deeper, your lips opening for him when you felt his tongue. his hand left your cheek and appeared on your hip, ever so slightly pushing your shirt up so he could touch your skin at your waist. you smiled against him as you felt his hand slowly creep up the shirt. you were reminded again that it was his and you pulled him closer by the back of the neck, hearing a soft moan leave his lips. your thighs squeezed, your excitement starting to rise.

“you just gave it to me and now you want to take it off?” you teased as rafe’s hand covered one of your breasts, the cool air of the room reaching your skin. rafe smiled and kissed you again.

his hand disappeared, apparently changing his mind, and reappeared on your thigh. you breathed in sharply at the warmth coming from his palm, resting just above your knee. your brain started to spaz for a moment and you imagined a bunch of smaller yous, running in circles like their heads were cut off.

rafe’s hand stayed steady as you uncrossed your legs, a silent invitation. he moved to kiss the corner of your mouth. “is this okay?”

the fact that he was pulling away multiple times to check in on you had to be evidence enough of why lina and melly liked him so much. you hadn’t met many guys that were so in tune with consent or caring about what you wanted. it turned you on seeing it coming from him.

“yes.” you nodded as you touched his forearm, not wanting to seem too eager.

you anticipated his hand moving and when it did, you held back the moan. you were much too eager for teasing and he was showing no signs of not giving you want you wanted. as he got closer to you, you placed your hand over his. he pulled you back for a kiss and you decided to focus on that for a moment to lessen your nerves.

his touch was soft once he met your underwear. his fingers pressed over you and you shivered from how wet you had become because of him. he hummed into your mouth, only adding to the pooling between your legs. his hand reached back and pushed your skirt further up so he could get to you more easily.

you let out a satisfied sigh against his lips as he ran a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness. your underwear had been pushed to the side, out of the way, finally feeling his touch.

“are you this wet for me?” he asked. you nodded against his forehead and pulled him back, letting out a moan as he brushed over your clit. it was only for a second, but you were about ready to burst.

you opened your legs wider for rafe, his fingers moving over you and exploring the new area. you gripped his hand to silently ask him for more along with an impatient moan. you wanted his fingers so badly in places you weren’t ready to admit yet. he wanted the opposite.

“talk to me.” he said, nudging the side of your face with his nose, planting a kiss to your jaw. you opened your eyes that had fallen shut, your breath getting heavier. your chest felt like it was going to cave in.

“please,” you said, adjusting your hips. “please, touch me.”

“i am.” he pulled away, a menacing smirk on his face just to gauge your reaction.

you huffed out and pulled his hand closer. “you know what i mean, rafe.”

“i like when you say my name.” he pressed a kiss to your lips sweetly.

“i might like when you touch me, so get on with it already.”

rafe laughed huskily, his breath blowing over your face. “you want my fingers?”

you wanted to roll your eyes at how badly he wanted you to beg, but you wanted his fingers more. “yes, please. i want your fingers. give me something.”

you let go of his hand as he finally pushed a finger into you. you adjusted around him for a moment and felt the need to close your legs to keep him there. he pulled your lips back to his, his tongue quick to lick into you. you held his face again as his finger started to move inside of you.

“you want another, pretty girl?” he asked after a few moments passed. you nodded again, breathing hoarsely, too intoxicated in him to speak. a second finger pushed into you then, stretching you ever so slightly. you sighed, letting your head fall back to the couch.

“you’re so wet.” he said as he moved his fingers, delighting in the sounds he was making with you in the palm of his hand. “you’re taking my fingers so well, y/n. do they feel good?”

you moaned as he said your name for the first time. it was something you didn’t think you’d like so much, but with the current situation, it was wonderful.

rafe’s lips appeared on your neck. you held the back of his head as he pressed a few kisses then closed his lips over a spot closer to your collarbone. if your breath had been short then, it was even shorter now as he worked to leave a mark on you. with all the attention you were getting, it only brought you closer to your release, and you started to move your hips. he freed your skin, startled at your movements, then amazed as he watched you chase his fingers. the spot he left throbbed now, all your blood rushing to two places at once.

“are you going to come?” he asked as you heard the start of song you had been replaying for the past few weeks. it was muffled and you could barely hear the words, but you knew it by heart.

“yes, fuck.” you looked up at him, taking in the sight. he was breathing over you, his eyes never straying too far from yours as your mouth opened in pleasure. “rafe, make me come.”

you squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed you hard, breathing deeply into your mouth. he reached his thumb to your clit and began to draw circles at a normal pace with his fingers. your stomach started to twist, the familiar feeling forming fast as he picked up the pace. he could tell you were close by the sheer dig of your fingertips on the back of his neck. it only edged him on more to bring you to your climax.

“come on my fingers.” he said, eyes half closed as he looked at you, lips brushing over yours as he spoke. you whimpered and felt your hips twitch before stilling completely, trapping rafe’s hand between your legs, as you came undone. his thumb continued to move to help you through it. your jaw went slack, eyes rolling under your eyelids, as you moaned loudly. you felt an overwhelming sense of content, the adrenaline rush coming and going quickly.

your blood pumped in your ears and it took you a few moments to register rafe giving you subtle kisses all over the underside of your jaw. you breathed in shakily and let your head fall back on the couch, your knees separating. rafe took his hand away and you winced as he did. you already missed the contact.

the moment was completely ruined as his name was called up the stairs. rafe’s lips disappeared from you as he looked toward the door. you didn’t know what came over you as you pulled your skirt down over your thighs, the footsteps heavy outside his door before a couple of his friends burst in.

“guys, come on. get the fuck out!” he shouted in annoyance, sitting up completely, his leg still touching yours.

“woah, sorry.” they said as they took in your presence. you shifted and knew that they could probably tell what you and rafe had been doing. they evidently didn’t care as they went into a whole spiel of something that had taken place downstairs. rafe tried to stop them and their alcohol-induced exuberance.

he looked at you over his shoulder, touching you lightly on the knee. “i'm sorry.” he said, his friends not hearing as they talked to one another. “i'll see you downstairs?”

part of you felt completely stupid when he said it, like everything that had happened moments ago was just an imagination. you felt your shoulders slump, but you nodded and got up anyways. the door was quick to close behind you and you were left in the dark landing, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. you smoothed your hair, took a deep breath, and fixed your underwear and skirt again.

your eyes adjusted gradually as you went down the stairs back into the swing of things. you swallowed, your mouth still dry post-climax. you went into the kitchen and filled up a cup with water, downing it slowly and stepping out of the way of some people. you couldn’t help but feel drained as you watched the people around you, laughing, dancing, and drinking. you had just spent the last 30 minutes in rafe cameron’s room and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“y/n!” you looked up at melly coming toward you, her makeup slightly smudged, but that didn’t change how great she looked. “there you are!”

you gave her an assured smile and finished the water in your cup. “hey.” you tried not to let anything show.

“lina and i are ready to go if you want to come with. i think we’re going to get some food somewhere in town. i was thinking curly fries or a veggie burger. lina is dying for— wait, where did you go? we looked everywhere.” her expression suddenly changed to one of concern as she stepped closer to you.

“i— uh, well clearly not everywhere.” you said shamelessly, feeling your neck grow warm.

melly opened her mouth to say something then stopped. “oh my god, why are you so flushed? what happened to your sweater?” she looked at the shirt, her eyes catching on something near your collarbone. her eyes went wide as you tried to hide the mark. “oh my god!”

monday, 4 p.m.

“i was thinking that it could go more like this,” your friend said as she pressed a few buttons on her laptop. a new beat started from the computer, the screen following along with the track. you bobbed your head along with the beat.

the campus coffeeshop was somewhere you liked to go, mostly to meet your friends, but you also enjoyed the coffee. sometimes before class you’d make it just in time to get an extra scone before they were all gone. it was a cozy place too, filled with older antiques and an endless display of guitars on every wall. sometimes they’d have an open mic for students, letting anyone with any sort of musical or comical talent perform. most of the acts were later in the week though so no one had to worry about coursework.

after your classes today, you had met up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. she was eager to show you what she had been working on for her musical composition classes and you had expressed that you were willing to listen.

the past weekend had been spent mulling over a certain party and a certain someone you couldn’t seem to forget. not that you tried to, to be fair. you’d hadn’t seen him since, which was nothing new given the amount of times you had encountered the boy since that day on campus or seen him for the first time in the library. you didn’t find things weird, but things were left upspoken and it had been bothering you. you knew that melly or lina could’ve easily gotten his number for you, had you asked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, nor did you know what you would say. all you could do was hope that he was doing well and maybe, perhaps, thinking of you too.

it was inevitable to escape having to talk about what happened in rafe’s room with melly and lina. you weren’t willing to share all of the details right down to what he smelled like, but you didn’t deny that nothing occurred. they seemed satisfied when you recounted having to change your sweater and rafe being kind enough to offer you one of his shirts.

speaking of the shirt, you had gone to your dorm that night and taken it off, seeing that “cameron” was written on the back, along with a large number. no doubt it was for lacrosse. the prospect of it made you shiver before folding it up to leave on your desk. you hadn’t touched it since.

“christ, i've got a meeting with my advisor soon.” your friend said, quickly exiting the program on her screen and closing her computer. “thank you again so much for listening. i can’t express how relieving it is to have someone do this.”

you waved her off with a sweet smile and packed up your own things. “i'm always around if you need a first-time listener.”

both of you stood and pushed the metal chairs in. you followed her to the exit, listening to her as she explained the reasoning for her upcoming meeting. both doors opened, the one from her pushing and the other from rafe coming in. you looked up as he met your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how good it was to see him.

“hey,” he smiled at you as all three of you paused.

before you could say anything, the words sticking to your tongue, you looked back to your friend. she was looking between the both of you, unsure of what was going on. you swallowed and acknowledged her. “i’ll see you later?”

a small smile came onto her face as she looked at rafe then back to you and nodded. the door closed softly behind her. you looked back at rafe as you felt his hand ghosting over your forearm.

“hi,” you said finally.

“it’s good to see you. come up with me?” he gestured to the register and you nodded, letting him take your hand. you didn’t think too much of it as you stood alongside him as he ordered. when the cashier asked if there would be anything else, rafe looked at you expectantly. you blanked for a second, remembering that you didn’t get a drink earlier when you first arrived. you had immediately gone for a sandwich, satisfied that that would be your dinner.

rafe pulled out his wallet and paid for the two drinks. he then led you toward the pick-up counter and faced you with a soft smile. “how have you been?”

“okay,” you breathed in deeply. you weren’t exactly sure how to answer. were you supposed to tell him how freaked out you had been? no, you decided, best not to. “the weekend was busy.”

“mine too. i've got practice tonight so i thought i’d stop by for some energy. i’m glad i ran into you.”

you refrained from asking him if he was serious. you could see on his face that he was with the way he looked at you. “rafe—”

before you could say much of anything else, rafe’s hands appeared on your cheeks and his lips pressed to yours. you kissed him back just as gently even though you wanted to do more now that you felt him again. he pulled away as his order was called, turning to thank the barista as he took the two cups.

“come to my place to study? after practice, i mean.” he said as he held your cup out to you. you looked at it then back up at his questioning eyes, a sliver of hope in them. you pushed down the question at the tip of your tongue and accepted the coffee.

“we’re just studying?”

rafe beamed and nodded. “i have a huge test tomorrow that i can’t fail, so yes.”

7 p.m.

before parting ways with rafe earlier he had finally taken your phone and put his number in it, but not before taking an odd photo of himself. it made you laugh watching it happen though. he promised that he would be done with practice around now and you left your dorm a little earlier than you planned to. it was out of pure thrill really.

knocking on the front door, you waited patiently for it to be answered. you shifted the books in your arms as you heard soft footsteps behind the door. rafe opened it, standing in loose-fitting clothes with damp hair. he smiled instantly and welcomed you in.

it was a drastic difference compared to the party. the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. rafe turned to you from the door.

“how many books did you bring?” he asked seriously, glancing at them against your chest.

“just two,” you said defensively only until you saw the grin. you rolled your eyes and turned away from him to kick your shoes off.

he was chuckling to himself as he went into the kitchen and pulled out snacks to have. “do you want anything to drink?”

��water would be great.”

“smart choice. less sticky.” he said, his back to you, but you could hear the satisfied tone of his voice at his remark.

once he gathered drinks and a plate of snacks, he led you upstairs. it was brighter this time with his door already open and lights already on. you glanced at the other closed one down the short hall, finding the sliver underneath completely dark. maybe topper wasn’t home.

“how was practice?” you asked, setting your things down. he placed the plate on the coffee table and took a seat on the floor. you brushed your hair away from your face and sat down beside him.

“good. just ran some drills, normal practice stuff.” he shrugged, munching on a chip.

“is topper not home?” you set your books on the table and opened them up to where you had marked. rafe moved to grab his things from his bag sitting on the couch. he copied your actions and pulled out a pencil and a notebook.

“no, he went out with some of the guys for food.” he said easily, opening to a blank page. you watched curiously as he wrote down the topic he was studying for.

both of you fell into a silence as you started to read from your books. you were worried about it being a strange silence, knowing what happened the last time you were in this room. it was fairly difficult to push it out of your mind and to focus when rafe was right next to you, so close, along with the thoughts and memory of his touch. you pushed everything out of your head and concentrated back on the page you were reading from.

it wasn’t long when rafe’s hand appeared on your bent leg. they were crossed under you and he had placed his hand like it belonged over the side of your knee. you looked at him in your peripheral but didn’t see him look up once to acknowledge that he had in fact done that. instead you let it happen, ignoring the way it warmed up your skin. you swallowed in anticipation of him interrupting your studying session to turn it into a quick make out session, but the longer the minutes passed the longer his hand stayed where it was. after a while, you forgot about it.

if you had taken one look at rafe, with no prior knowledge of him or of the way his hands felt on you, you would have never guessed that he becomes so engrossed in studying. for the whole two hours that you both spent together with your noses in textbooks, he hadn’t once started a conversation. he kept at reading and writing, jotting things down in his notebook, while you held your head above your own book and soaked up every last word. it was comforting knowing that. the plate had even emptied, mostly due to rafe’s insatiable appetite after practice. you weren’t that hungry from your sandwich earlier.

“okay, that’s it.” rafe said abruptly, causing you to look up as his hand left your knee. “my eyes are going to bleed if i read anymore.”

you laughed lightly and looked back at your book. “are you sure you studied enough?”

“i wrote a whole ten pages worth of notes.” he flipped through them, the pages brushing together.

you hummed, still engrossed in your text. rafe shuffled next to you, dropping his notebook over the open pages along with his pencil. he let out a long sigh which turned into a yawn.

“are you done?” he asked innocently, his head appearing on your shoulder.

you glanced at him and shrugged him off with a smile. “maybe.”

“come on,” he groaned and reached for your textbook. you automatically smacked his hand away. he laughed and quickly flipped it closed and took ahold of your chin to face him.

“that was a dick move.” you said, punching him softly on the arm.

“pay attention to me.” he whined, letting go of your chin only to touch your cheek.

you eyed him as he came closer, finally kissing you when you didn’t punch him again or push him away. you kissed him back as best you could with the speculation seeping into your brain then. rafe seemed to be able to tell.

“what is it?” he asked when he pulled away, running his thumb lightly along your cheekbone. it was reassuring almost.

you looked at him, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. you also thought about how badly it could go given the answer you were dreading. “i'm just— it’s nothing.” you shook your head quickly and leaned in to distract him with another kiss.

he reciprocated for only a moment. “what is it? you can tell me.”

“i guess i'm just wondering what we’re doing.” you rolled your shoulder as if you had a knot, pulling away from rafe in case he didn’t want to touch you. his hand fell from your face and he leaned his side against the couch.

“what do you want to do?”

you gave him a serious glare. “don’t make this a game, rafe. i'm just…wondering what your intentions are.”

rafe adjusted his posture and sat up straighter, all his attention on you. his eyebrows creased and you bit the inside of your lip self-consciously, knowing this wasn’t going to go how you wanted it.

“well, i'm enjoying spending time with you.”

“studying?” you asked with a monotone.

rafe glanced away from you as if he were wondering if he said the wrong thing. “yeah. is that so hard to believe?”

you wanted to huff again, but you held the breath in. your shoulders started to tense as you became frustrated. not because of him, mostly because of yourself for not being able to communicate. you felt stupid for asking it, but you did. “do you like kissing me?”

“of course i do.”

“is that all you want to do?” you finally asked, quickly looking away from him. you reached toward your textbook, fiddling with the pages.

“no,” rafe said. “i want to get to know you.”

it was hard for you not to roll your eyes. rafe noticed and a second later his hand touched your shoulder, gently shaking it.

“i'm serious. hey, look at me.” he pleaded, and you did. “i want to get to know you, but only if you’ll let me. i know the other night was weird and i don’t know— spontaneous, but i enjoyed it and i enjoy being around you. you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about it.”

“i’ve probably been thinking about it more than you.” you chided in a quiet voice, trying to tease him. you were pleased by the answer he gave you and you felt a little silly for being so stubborn at first.

rafe smiled slightly, eyes soft. “let’s just keep doing what we’re doing and see where it goes, okay?”

you took a deep breath in, pushing your book away and nodding. “okay.”

rafe’s hand rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before he pulled you in for an awkwardly placed hug. the side of your body fell into his chest, but he hugged you, nonetheless, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. you turned into him and smiled widely, your cheeks strained to hold it, and hugged him around the shoulders.

all the time spent worrying about whether he reciprocated your feelings or thoughts were so obviously wasted as you spent the rest of the night together. you took it slow, never straying from innocent kisses as you curled up together to watch a movie. you couldn’t help grinning multiple times throughout the night, knowing that things wouldn’t be difficult like you thought. it was easy when you expressed yourself and talked things over, even mentioning small things made a difference. maybe this would turn out to be another smart decision. you had a feeling there were plenty of possibilities with rafe cameron, but only time would tell.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #college!rafe cameron x reader #college!rafe cameron #college!rafe #rafe cameron au #outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #college au #writing dirty talk kinda makes me cringe because im so bad at it but i think i did okay ???#rafe cameron x fem!reader

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ineffableplanner · 3 years

Text

Newsletter #92 - The week of Saturday November 20th 2021 - Saturday November 27th 2021

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT! I am still in this fandom to a certain point, but twice-weekly posts (and finding the information save the ones you lovely people send me) is beginning to take its toll on the gazillion other things that are lining up. I am considering ‘abdicating’ the newsletter if I can find someone who is willing to pick it up and run it. If you do, please contact me through [email protected]. There’s a gmail to take over, a twitter, a tumblr, a trello and even an instagram I never got around to using. As well as a pillowfort account. I will still be around to assist if needed and I WILL vet applications. If you've ever started shit in this fandom, I'll probably know and the answer will be NO. I have too much respect for the users of this newsletter to just go for the first and best offer.

What’s new this week? A new discord server :D - but nothing else just yet (we have some things coming up later in the year that you can already take a look at now). But if you know of an event going on or coming up, feel free to let me know :)

Go forth, have fun! Create much!

If you run a GO tumblr with recs or resources, let me know. Running a zine and want to get the word out? The inbox is always open.

If any discord servers go AWOL or you feel one should be added (remember to clear it with the MODS first) feel free to let me know. As always, the email [email protected] is always open for business.

Chanukah Omens 2021 - November 29th - December 6th

12 Days of Blasphemy - December 25th - January 5th

EVENTS WITH DEADLINES

Miss Fell's Bookshop - (starts August 1st!)

Good Omens Bingo 2021 [runs the entire year of 2021] (note that I am affiliated with this event) SIGN-UPS ARE OPEN UNTIL END OF NOVEMBER!

EVENTS WITHOUT DEADLINES

Good Omens Zine Archive (mainly of interest to zine publisher/handlers)

Jukebox Event - (no deadline)

We’re On Our Own Side - weekly prompts (no deadline)

Good Omens Fic Rec Bingo - (no deadline available)

T-RECS Tuesdays (GO fanfic recommendations) (no deadline/ongoing)

#ButterOmens (ongoing multi media event(writing/art/whatever you want))

Encourage good feedback (no deadline/ongoing)

OPEN for sign-ups

None at the moment, feel free to let me know if you know of any or run one and want to give signups a boost.

OPEN for mod/help applications

Let me know if you’re looking and want a boost

INTEREST CHECK

Let me know if you have one you’d like featured

As always, when entering a discord server, follow its rules, check out the dos and don’ts and don’t harass the mods or your server sibs.

NEW! The Buggre All This Server (18+) - Book, Radio, Musical Omens

Good Omens Petrolheads Reference Library - specifically for GO vehicle talk/research etc

Ace Omens Discord Server - Click here for information post (link updated feb 13th)

The Bookshop’s Backroom (18+) The Bookshop’s Backroom (18+) is a community server based on Good Omens (Book, TV, Radio).

Do-it-with-style - runs various events. Takes all ages.

Fuck Yeah Good Omens Characters - give the other characters apart from Aziraphale and Crowley some love. Takes all ages, NSFW optional.

Good Omens Fic Writers (you don't have to be one to join! Direct link to server)

Good Omens Party House (18+) - Click here for information post

Good Omens Stitch-A-Long (ever wanted to learn how to stitch?) - Click here for information post

Good Omens Whump (18+) - Click here for direct access

Ineffable Wives Discord Server - Click here for direct access

Soft Omens Snuggle House (18+)- Click here for information post

SERVER INTEREST CHECK Interest check for a TopCrowly server

Book Omens (book) - This is a community for the novel Good Omens, by Sir Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. There are communities for tv!omens, specific GO ships, and mixed book, radio and tv content, but we've been lacking one that's focused on just the book, so here we are!

GoodOmens - A community for the book by Neil Gaiman & Sir Terry Pratchett and its adaptions to radio and TV with an extra large helping of Ineffable Husbands/Wives/Partners.

Good Omens (TV) - Community for the TV version of Good Omens

Ineffable Husbands, Ineffable Wives, Ineffable Partners - A community solely for Aziraphale and Crowley from the Good Omens book/radio adaption/TV series being in some kind of romantic or platonic relationship. =) Please read the "Rules and Info" section before posting/reblogging here!

If you have any suggestions for blogs with recs and/or resources, feel free to let me know.

Aziraphale’s Library (themed recs and more)

Recs by Dannye Chase/@holycatsandrabbits

Recs by Prolix (various pairings done by tags)

**Ineffable Husbands Fanfiction and Fanworks** (FB group, requires membership)

Community Calendar (Trello) can be viewed here (it is updated through the week if I hear of any events to add and will often have some more information on the events/zines etc.).

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This newsletter is mirrored on pillowfort and tumblr and announced on twitter.

* This is something tumblr never learned but PF has adopted from the old LJ format - if anyone wants a PF invite, just ask - we get 3 per week anyway to give away and there are pillowforters who will happily share invites.

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If you have an event you want to add to the calendar and the weekly Newsletter, don’t hesitate to let me know either in the asks/PM or via ineffableplanner (@) gmail dot com.

Also, feel free to share this post. This blog is NOT for reblogging of events, but for listing and perhaps making it a bit easier for everyone to keep track of these events before they’ve come AND gone ;)

Disclaimer: I am not running any of these zines, events or servers (in the few cases where I am involved in the mod work, I will make note of this). Please use your common sense and if you feel you’ve entered an event/zine/server/community you feel uneasy about, do not hesitate to step away from it. You may let me know if there’s a problem with one, but please know that I am not able to police every single one of them, nor will I play God in other people’s domains. I will let the mods know there is a problem (without mentioning your name and if it’s grave enough, take the link off), but please do not expect miracles and do not use me as your tool to get back at servers/server mods for personal reasons. I abhor being pulled into fandom wars and kerfluffles.

#Good Omens Events #Good Omens Zines #Good Omens Newsletter #IneffablePlanner

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idanit · 3 years

Text

possibly underappreciated Good Omens fics I enjoyed once upon a time

Indirectly inspired by a video series about fanfiction I watched, I decided to pull together a list of Good Omens fics I have bookmarked as stories I enjoyed, but which have less than 250-300 kudos at the time I’m writing this. No particular order. They’re accompanied by short excerpts from my private fic reading notes (not originally intended to be read by anyone but me, mind), sometimes slightly edited for clarity—and, sometimes, the comments I left on the fics.

This list sat in my drafts for a long time and the recent S2 announcement reminded me of it. I’d love it if it inspired you to do something similar! Spread the love.

And mind the tags, please.

△ = general and teen ▲ = mature and explicit

thermodynamic equilibrium ▲ 7K the author has such an ear for dialogue and is unapologetic about what they want to write the characters like. They think of the characters as a mix of TV and book canon, but they feel like a homemade blend to me. (...) It’s very funny.

such dear follies ▲ 6K I can really picture this Aziraphale—Crowley as well, but her especially. She’s rather distinct. (...) Nice writing.

The Words Were With - △ 1.2K post-Blitz vignette, Aziraphale realizes what he feels and wonders if they're human enough for this. I liked it, and I liked the tag "transhumanism, but in reverse?", too—what an interesting idea. I'd say it's a vignette in a dire need of a follow-up, but, well, there's the show. The show is the follow-up. It fits very nicely within the canon and I totally believe it could have happened, like a deleted scene.

Gossip and Good Counsel △ 19K/? I love their companionship and how they're set up to be opposites by the management even though they get on pretty well. It feels very in keeping with the canon, but I feel like the fact that it's an F/F set in this particular time period adds a meaningful layer to the situation. It's women supporting each other in the world of men, working with the personas that are created for them, but, privately, being normal, well-rounded people. (...) and of course your writing is always a pleasure to read. (...) SDHDGDHDHDG Maisie is truly an Aziraphale.

Crowley Went Down to Georgia (he was looking for a soul to steal) △ 6K This was nice. Based on a song I didn’t know. Crowley goes to a funeral in the USA, one of a fiddler he knew and lost a bet to once. (...) The fic has not one but two songs composed for it and embedded inside it and that makes it even better. I really enjoyed the experience.

The Thing With Feathers △ 18K WARLOCK you'rE HORRIBLE AND I LOVE IT I would read an entire novel-length fic just of Crowley fighting his battles with Warlock. Written like this? It would be a blast. (...) The OCs are believably characterized and well-loved by the story. (...) Everyone seems to need a friend in this house. (...) This was so fun, and at the same time, their mission has weight here (...) We wonder about what the future holds even though we know it.

Here Quiet Find △ 11K This fic aimed for my head and the aim was sure precise. It was a story of Crowley sensing Aziraphale's distress and finding him in a self-quarantined English village in the seventeenth century, tired and anxious. It's hurt/comfort, so there was washing and bedsharing and I had to love it, so I did.

outside of time △ 2K Post-Almostgeddon, (...) nicely-written, short, but strung with a soft kind of tension and unspoken words. There's no drama, just "can we really", and "do you really" of sudden freedom. They fall into being inseparable. Book canon, which I like for this story (sitting on a tarmac). I liked the footnotes. There's a mention of Eliot. All in all, very much yes.

She'asani Yisrael △ 2K It’s Crowley going through a two-hour service and drinking blessed wine. He also keeps an eye on a boy he was asked to. It’s 1946. It was pretty good, so far the best Jewish GO fic, I think, from the ones I’ve read.

To Guard The Eastern Gate △ 11K I loved it. You really made Sodom feel lived-in; the description of Keret, Hurriya and Yassib's house and relationship were great. I got attached to both them and the city (...) Aziraphale and Crawley’s interactions were generally very entertaining. I laughed (...) Your rendering of their voices just lands so well (...) But then oh, the entire ending (...) hurt, hurt a lot, and your descriptions are so vivid.

If you’ve been waiting (for falling in love) △ 14K AAAAA a good ending line. The whole paragraph, in fact. I love a good smattering of philosophy in my fics, and this was really nice. I can get behind Thomas Aequinus's and Crowley's view on eternity. It's (...) a pretty simple fic (...) - the courage to express yourself and take a risk is awarded with winning what was at stake by the virtue of reciprocity - but the way it was intertwined with a study of how they would experience a forever was done well.

Holy unnecessary ▲ 2.2K It's well-written. (...) this is my type of sexual humour if I have any. So subtle. Blink and you'll miss it. Lovely.

The Parting Glass △ 17K Through the ages, they're dancing around their relationship until after the Armageddoff. (...) Wow, this was really, really nice. Very simple in its concept and nothing I haven't read before, but very well-executed. (...) AAAAH I LOVED the first chapter. I always like abbeys as settings, that's a given, but the banter, the good writing, the moral ambiguity!

Name The Sky △ 33K This Crowley is different, but very intriguing. Without his sarcastic talk, and much more animalistic. (...) I love how expressive Crowley is. (...) This fic has a very nice balance of drama and levity. I don't love Crowley-before-the-Fall stories very much, but with this execution I can read about it. (...) Okay I've read Crowley offering fruits, and even Aziraphale biting fruits, but the two of them sharing the apple? Outstanding. Ingenious. What a take.

A Flame in Your Heart △ 5K post-Blitz (why are so many dance fics post-Blitz?), they go to the bookshop and have an actually believable conversation. Then they dance the gavotte. It was really nice! Believable writing, emotions, the dancing! (...) Of course it's too early for them, (...) but the author's note? yeah.

Put down the apple, Adam, and come away with me ▲ 32K At this point it's just reading original stories with characters with names and some personality traits that I recognize. (...) I really enjoy this, the careful dance, the opposition between their views. (...) This is well-written, wow. (...) it's not an easy read (...) this story feels very believably 50s, but also reaches out to the present time.

Liebestraum ▲ 10K/? It really is like music. I'm enjoying the writing a lot. (...) oh my actual god. This, this? Wow, uh. This came for my throat. (...) THE MUSICAL COMPOSITION, THE MOTIF RETURNING, THE AUTHOR KNOWS WHERE IT'S AT (...) Excellent. This hits the right beats so precisely, (...) and with feeling, too.

Down Comforter △ 2.4K and they lay down in angeldown, a soft rug ‘neath their heads– alright. Well, Crowley lies under Aziraphale's wing on a Persian rug after the Apocalypse, and they talk (...). It was sweet.

The Corsair of Carcosa △ 5K Crowley wakes up from a nap, visits Aziraphale for some drinking, and they read The King in Yellow that he happens to own. Good writing, so I'm bought. Aziraphale mentions Beardsley, so I'm bought twice over. My god, a discussion of etheral/occult madness? Caused by some wrong/true reading? Yes.

Very Good, Omens! △ 6K It's rather well-written, well-pastiched. People don't do that too often, nowadays - try to write in the style of a particular writer. (...) I love wordplay like this.

Reviving Robin Hood: The Complicated Process of Crème Brûlée △ 30K it's well-written (...), has a rhythm to it, and quiet humour. (...) Finally some nice, good, light writing. The attention to detail! (...) I'm still reading most of it aloud, the rhythm of it compels me to. (...) okay this does sound like Pratchett&Gaiman, the Good Omens itself (...) The fic is meandering, hilarious, sensitive in all the right places, and overall lovely.

my dear acquaintance △ 1K Oh. Oh. Yes, yes! Aziraphale in Russia, Russia I've never been in, but I can feel the snow and the evening of. Very real, and the bar, too. Attention to detail - vodka flavoured with dill, what on earth? Yes. He would totally have a distinct taste in operas and he would totally complain about a subpar one. I'm glad Tchaikovsky's there.

there is a crack in everything △ 1.8K This was good! Ah. Inspired by a comment (...), I went looking for Mr. Harrison and Mr. Cortese fics—really, what a big brain moment someone had and why have I never thought to look for them? This is Crowley getting suddenly anxious and Aziraphale going out of his way, through all his layers of not-thinking and denial, to console him. I also really liked how the Arrangement is a carefully unacknowledged partnership-marriage.

Scales And Gold And Wings And Scars △ 6K No conflict, no plot, one tiny arc like a ripple on the surface of water on a calm sunny day - of Aziraphale discovering Crowley’s scars. It's the South Downs and it's early summer. They bask and swim in a spring. Non-sexual nudity, love in the air like a scent. Nice.

Nineteen Footnotes In Search Of A Story △ 0.4K This is a Good Omens story told only through footnotes. Your mind can fill in the gaps. Fascinating (...). Also, it’s an experiment so apt for this particular fandom.

Hell on Earth △ 6.5K Oh, I loved it! How could I not love it: it's Beelzebub-centric, it's historical, it has classical painting, and even a hilarious scene with a cuneiform phrase, as if I didn't enjoy this story enough already. There are so few Beelzebub fics out there and I find searching for them very difficult (I accept recs if anyone has any), and it's such a shame, so this was really like a gift to the fandom. I absolutely adore the way you portrayed them, small, frightening, powerful, and confident. Also, it was super fun to see how different Crowley seems when we're not in his POV or in a story about him and Aziraphale. (...)

Go Up to Ramoth-Gilead and Triumph △ 24K Daegaer is... pure class. (...) hdhdhdh what pfttt why you so funny (...) I love this Crowley. (...) This got unexpectedly intense. (...) I love the little nods to the fact that Israelites, especially the poorer ones, still believe in other gods. I also really like that they sleep on roofs. It's just the kind of detail that grounds the story and shows that the author is, in fact, a historian.

#good omens #good omens fic rec #fanfiction #fic rec #idanit reads #i also have a multifannish F/F rec list in the works #all my bookmarks are private but i feel the need to share the love

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a-nice-and-interpretive-fanzine · 3 years

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[ID: A cream-colored banner that says "A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine: essays and art about the meanings we've found in Good Omens." There is a photo of a book page with a key on it behind the banner text. The photo source is rosy_photo on Pixabay. /end ID]

A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine: Information Masterpost

Welcome!

This is a zine for those of us who love the subtle, complex work that is Good Omens, and who’ve enjoyed the thoughtfulness of the fandom as people interpret how the many moving pieces of the story come together, creating a slightly different meaning for each of us.

To put it simply, it’s a book full of the fandom’s own analysis and commentary about the Good Omens TV show, enhanced with illustrations from our brilliant artists.

This zine is analytical in the sense that all the writers are expressing their own nonfiction thoughts and feelings about the show, rather than writing fanfic, but it is not meant to be heavily academic. Anybody who likes to pick apart the series and discuss it should be able to enjoy it.

The zine will contain essays by fans who are passionate about analyzing and interpreting different parts of Good Omens - the characters, the plot, the writing techniques for the book and script, the cinematography of the TV show, the popular content of the fandom itself. Accompanying these essays will be black and white illustrations from our artists.

How are you organizing this process?

May 1-May 15: Everyone submits their application to do writing or art through a Google form. Behind the scenes, I’ll be setting up a separate email and Discord.

May 16-20: Applicants will be screened during this time.

May 20: I’ll email everyone to let them know the outcomes of their applications. The final participants will get a link to the Discord server for the zine (totally optional, of course).

May 21: If there’s any clarification or solidifying of ideas that needs to happen, I’ll contact you and discuss with you by this point. This is also when artists will be matched up with essays.

May 22 to August 14: This will be a period of just working on our essays and art. The Discord chat and Tumblr will be there for support and for exchanging ideas!

August 15: Participants need to email their full works to the zine’s email address by this date. No special formatting is needed; I’ll do that in InDesign.

August 15 to August 31: I’ll be putting the zine together in InDesign.

September 1: Preorders will open.

September 30: Preorders will close.

October 1: The zine order will be placed!

October 15: Assuming all goes well with printing and shipping, the zines will be shipped out in waves starting on this date. If the printing or shipping from the manufacturer is delayed, then shipping will just start ASAP.

Writer Application HERE Artist Application HERE Asked and Answered Questions on Tumblr The Fanzine's Page on Twitter

Read below for more detailed information about the zine in a Q and A format!

What are the specifications for the zine contributions?

For writers, I’m starting with 3k words or fewer per essay (approximately 10 pages at the size of this book). This depends heavily on how many participants we actually get, so it may change!

For artists, I’d be looking at black and white works, 300 DPI, 5.5 x 8.5 inches or smaller. If your art is supposed to fill up the entire page (i.e. no white space), please make it a total of 5.75 x 8.75 inches with nothing too important around the edges to account for bleed during the printing process.

Can I submit an essay to this zine if I’ve already posted it on Tumblr?

Not as you’ve already posted it. We don’t want to just copy/paste the exact thing that hundreds or perhaps even thousands of people have already read.

However, it IS fine and maybe even a good idea to take the same thought from your post and refine it, preserving your same thesis. For example, a lot of Tumblr posts are just us fans jotting down 5 or 6 paragraphs of random thoughts at 2 AM, but some of them are really cool thoughts! Expanding them and turning them into a bona-fide Essay would make those posts into excellent zine chapters. And you can copy small pieces of your own language as long as the whole thing isn’t just pasted word-for-word.

How long do essays have to be? Is there a limit?

With the number of writers we have, I've calculated that each person should ideally keep their essay to about 6000 words. There is wiggle room.

There’s no real minimum for your contribution; some analytical ideas are really good but can be expressed concisely, so it’s okay if your essays only come out to a few pages typed. For reference, with our book size, a page is about 300 words.

What happens if the zine sells a lot and you end up not only breaking even, but turning a profit?

It’ll go to charity. While I’ll ask the participants what they want to do for certain if we do make enough money, my suggestion will be donating it to Alzheimer’s Research UK in honor of Sir Terry Pratchett.

I’m not really comfortable calling this a “charity zine” up front since I simply don’t know if it will raise a significant amount. For the most part, I just want the thing to physically exist, which means breaking even, and don’t want to make it more expensive for buyers than it needs to be to afford the printing costs.

What kinds of essays are you talking about? What could be included?

In short, any analytical thoughts about the Good Omens TV show - and possibly even the fandom as it interacts with the show - are possible inclusions for the zine.

To expand a bit, think about the meta posts you see floating around Tumblr. Often these involve analyzing characters, or picking up on patterns in the plot. Sometimes fans use their own background knowledge to write posts about the significance of certain costume choices or the way music plays into each individual scene. Some posts examine the ways the series approaches gender, while others might discuss ways that the characters present as neurodivergent. That’s how diverse the pool of possibilities is for subjects in this zine.

How does art come into this?

Images will be black and white, to match the bookish mood of the project overall. Images can range in size from a half page to a full page.

I’m planning to talk to the artists and authors and loosely pair artists with essays that appeal to their personal interests.

I know how to illustrate a story, but how do I illustrate an essay?

There are infinite answers to this! I’ve seen some beautiful symbolic artwork in the fandom already (e.g. a number of takes on Aziraphale munching on an apple with Crowley in snake form curving around him), and there are tons of symbolic motifs to draw from, but these are not the only options. An artist illustrating an essay about cinematography, for example, could draw a well-known scene from an alternative angle. An essay about Heaven as a capitalist corporation could be illustrated with a cartoon of Gabriel giving some sort of excruciating PowerPoint presentation. A character analysis could be accompanied by a simple portrait. And on and on. I’m not interested in limiting the possibilities by trying to make a list, but just know that there are many and you don’t have to make it complicated if you don’t want to.

If the writers can reuse their essay ideas, can artists reuse their drawings?

Similarly to the writers, if you already have an interpretive drawing that you’re in love with, artists can use the same ideas and the same fundamental composition that is present in their own existing work. However, it has to be redone in some significant way. Whether it’s taking something you drew in 2019 and redrawing it using an updated style, taking a sketch and turning it into a lined and shaded piece, or redoing a full-color drawing so it presents more strikingly in black and white, it shouldn’t be identical to the thing you’ve already posted.

So how are you choosing participants here?

It’ll be based on what people are interested in writing about (or illustrating). I’ll be looking for people who are passionate about their essays, but I’ll also be looking for variety. It all depends on what people want to offer, so I won’t know for sure what it will look like put together until everyone’s application is in.

For artists, I’ll be trying to figure out whose style looks like it would adapt well to illustrations in black and white, and also who demonstrates an interest in the same subjects as the writers.

If we don’t get a lot of applicants, I’d love to simply include everyone, but I can’t commit to that without knowing for sure how many people are involved.

Do I have to use a formal writing style to participate?

No. You should use a style that makes your thoughts and ideas as clear as possible, but as long as it’s understandable, you can also get a little artistic with it. You can “write like you speak,” though perhaps in a more organized way. You definitely don’t need to worry about stylistic rules like not using the first person. This is not academia.

Is this zine going to center only on Crowley and Aziraphale?

That remains to be seen! It depends on what ideas show up in the applications. There will be a lot of the ineffable partners for sure, but whether the whole zine will center on them or whether there’s plentiful stuff about other characters will depend on what the participants suggest.

Do we have to agree with all your personal interpretations of Good Omens to be in the zine?

No! In fact, I’m assuming that a number of essays will contradict each other, too, and that’s perfectly okay. The zine is a sampler of fan interpretations meant to inspire, not instruct. It’s not “Here’s a fan-made guide on how to understand this TV show,” it’s “Look at all these moving parts and how many meanings we can find in them. What does it mean to you?”

However, there are some basic rules and assumptions by which I’m working here.

I don’t personally have the energy to include essays that are highly critical (“negative”) in this zine. It’s analytical but also meant to be fun.

I’m pretty focused on the TV adaptation. This isn’t “no book analysis allowed” but just that the essays will end up being weighted toward subjects that apply to either the TV show or both the book and the show.

Each writer should focus on making their own points over disproving other fan interpretations. If you’re writing in an expository style, it’s normal for the essay to contain rebuttals to opposing ideas, but these should be minor supporting points, not the heart and soul of your essay. For reference, I’d say the majority of meta I see floating around on tumblr would follow this rule just fine.

Essay ideas that seem to contain bigoted or exclusionary sentiments will not be accepted (no TERFy stuff, for example).

What kinds of editing will go into the zine? Are you going to argue with us about the contents of our writing?

While I might ask you to elaborate on certain points in your writing or clarify your thoughts about your subject, I’m absolutely not here to ask you to change the thesis, opinions, or headcanons on which your writing is based. If I really have a problem with your initial idea, I’ll tell you that up front and politely decline the contribution.

While formatting the zine, I’ll make minor edits if I think I see a typo or misspelling, something small and obviously unintentional. As with any other zine, your content won’t be changed without consulting you.

Is this a SFW zine?

Yes. If people want to discuss sexuality in a theoretical way, like erotic subtext, that would be allowed. There are canon references like Newt and Anathema’s moment under the bed that might come up, too. But there will be nothing explicit, and since these are essays instead of stories, there will be no “action” going on between characters. Let’s just say sex isn’t a forbidden topic, but it will be like discussing it in English class.

As for other topics that could make the zine NSFW, like gore or extreme language, I don’t think they will be an issue. Some dark topics, like abuse by Heaven and Hell, may be discussed, but they will be warned for, and these are not stories, so you aren’t going to see violent actions playing out.

Will there be any “extras” like charms or stickers?

I’m not sure yet. I’m most inclined to keep it simple, because of the nature of the zine, but would be open to including some bonus items if there’s an artist who’s really passionate about it.

With that said, I am pretty committed to making a hardcover edition of the book available, in addition to the standard softcover version.

You’re doing this with only one mod?!

Yes. I personally find it easiest. While I’ve worked on multi-mod projects in other domains and adore all of my co-mods, it’s a little bit different when it’s a project with this many moving pieces that includes real-life components like printing and shipping. Though there are a lot of individual things to be done, I am experienced with all of them, so it’s less overwhelming to just take on the whole project. That way, I know exactly what needs to be done and when, and there are no issues with assigning tasks.

What qualifies you to run this zine?

The résumé answer: in fandom, I successfully solo-modded a large not-for-profit zine in the past, the @soulmakazine2018, and while I can’t speak for the whole fandom, it definitely seemed to be well-received. <3 In real life, I’m a case manager and this involves coordinating and communicating with a lot of different people including my 100-person caseload, budgeting services, and filling out all kinds of paperwork on the fly, all skills that can be imported into zine work.

The practical answer: well, I’m the one who decided to start this project, so if you like the sound of it, you're stuck with me. I say with encouragement and enthusiasm that if you’d like to do a different take on a commentary zine, you should absolutely do it.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #fanzine #good omens zine

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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30 FAVE BOOKMARKS of 2020

Happy New Year’s Eve-Eve, everyone!!

And welcome to the Last Fic Rec Wednesday of 2020! No one asked for this at all, but I enjoy making unprompted lists for everyone, and I’ve been doing this list since January 2020 :P

I’ve read some FANTASTIC fics this year, and now seems like a good time as any to share with y’all some of those amazing fics I’ve added to List of Love! I had to even whittle it down today to get it to 25 – the number I like as a “top xx” thing, so I am very disheartened that a lot of my bookmarks this year didn’t make the list :( It’s been a long time since I’ve done a “last XX bookmarked fics” list, maybe I’ll do one of those soon.

First off let’s start with 5 honourable mentions of Other Fandom fics, because I spent a lot of my summer indulging in my renewed Rimmster ship so I have a few amazing RD fics y’all should read LOL

FIVE OTHER-FANDOM HONOURABLE MENTIONS

Réveillon by Big_Edies_Sun_Hat (T, 6,431 w., 3 Ch. || GOOD OMENS || Christmas Eve, Angst, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Established Relationship, International Travel, Moments in Time, Historical / Biblical Interpretation) – After a gloomy history with Christmas, Aziraphale shows Crowley how he has learned to seek out the good in it by traveling around the world on Christmas Eve. Highlights include: the Annunciation; potholes; international teleportation; peace and hope; arson; Lupe gets a doll of her very own.

Out With It by Clipped_Ionian_Vowels (T, 10,255 w., 1 Ch. || RED DWARF || Post-Ace, Reclaimed Slurs, Getting Together, Sexuality, Coming Out) – Rimmer finally comes home, hangs up the wig and decides to set the crew 'straight' about one thing; he's not. And neither, it transpires, is Lister.

Standards by Kahvi & Roadsterguy (E, 11,725 w., 2 Ch. || RED DWARF || Hard Light Rimmer, Bickering, Humour, First Time, Over-Protective Kryten, Cranky Rimmer, Exploring Derelicts, Arguing Leads to Awkward Flirting, Showering Together, Intense Orgasms) – Yet another supply raid on a derelict leads Rimmer and Lister to an argument, which in turn leads to... something that's still fairly close to an argument. You get lonely in space, but you do have standards.

speed limits (and how to break them) by darcylindbergh (E, 13,750 w., 4 Ch. || GOOD OMENS || POV Crowley, UST/URT, Mutual Pining, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Crowley’s Anxiety, Gift Giving, Humour, Touching, Awkwardness, Love Confessions, Sussex, Fantasies Become Real, Marriage Proposal, Sensuality, Bottom Crowley) – There is a trick people do with a mint candy and a bottle of cola which results in a small eruption, and something very like it, for much higher stakes than a laugh in a car park, is about to take place in Aziraphale’s back room. Or: what happens when you finally unscrew the cap on a six thousand years of repression, and drop in Valentine’s Day.

Hand in Glove by lizardkid (T, 14,223 w., 1 Ch. || RED DWARF || Post-S9, Internalized Homophobia, Repression, Hurt/Comfort, Lister Whump, Worried Rimmer, Ableist Language, Cuddling) – Lister is mortally wounded in an accident. Rimmer is forced to reassess everything.

------------------

AND NOW: The reason y’all are here! Please know I love EVERYTHING I’ve read and bookmarked, just these ones have really stuck with me and I’ve already re-read a few of these, so yeah, please do enjoy.

Please note that these fics aren’t all necessarily NEW fics for 2020, more like they were new to ME, and ergo, I bookmarked and started reccing them this year! There are a few newer fics, though, so yeah, apologies if you were expecting only new things.

Hope you all have a good New Year’s Day, and I hope this list makes the long weekend a great one until my FIRST Fic Rec Sunday of 2021! I might do two on Sunday just to celebrate the new year, hahah. <3 Love you all!

TOP 25 JOHNLOCK BOOKMARKS OF 2020

SEE ALSO:

Top 20 Bookmarks of 2018

Top 25 Bookmarks of 2019

The Imminent Danger of a Tumblr-Night by Loveismyrevolution (T, 2,135 w., 1 Ch. || Tumblr Fics, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock is Out of His Depth, Humour, Fluff, Pining Sherlock, Military Kink, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock gets into trouble when he pretends to know all about John's favourite social media site - tumblr. To save face he seeks help from one of the bloggers and gains more answers than he had aimed for.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) – When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

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Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

#johnlock fic recs #long post #my fic recs #fic rec wednesday #fave fics #red dwarf fic recs #good omens fic recs

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harlot-of-oblivion · 4 years

Text

Prowling For Pleasure

You treat Vergil to a night of indulgent luxury and forbidden pleasures.

Rated Explicit for: Dubcon, Vampiric Manipulation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Femdom, and the usual Vampire Activities.

Part Two: Decadence & Depravity

Tonight is the night of your promised hunt, and you can honestly say that you’ve never felt this excited in all your undead life! Everything is almost ready for your date…all you need to do is finish getting dressed, which is easier said than done with the ever-growing knot in the pit of your stomach. You’ve grown accustomed to spending your solitude with only a few trusted confidants, but the thought of stepping out for a night on the town with Vergil is exhilarating!

You can’t stand all the pent-up nervousness and excitement raging inside you any longer. Your eyes dart over to a black velvet bag sitting on a nearby shelf as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup. You reach over and grab it before taking out a deck of tarot cards at Vergil’s desk. Their musty scent wafts through the air as you shuffle the cards a few times, envisioning your question before splitting the deck into three smaller stacks. Then, you gather them all back up in a different order and spread the top four cards out on the desk in the form of a cross.

Time to see how our date will play out.

You turn over the first card to reveal the image of a nude woman pouring two vessels of water, one over land and the other into a calm river. Your lips curve into a fond smile at the familiar card, The Star, which has popped up in a lot of your readings ever since Vergil started calling you by the sweet endearment. So, it makes sense why this card represents you and your feelings in the matter at hand: you hope to grow even closer with your fierce fella after tonight.

Your brow quirks at the next card in the spread, which depicts a man in full armor riding atop a valiant steed with a large wand. Huh…how curious, you muse, tilting your head at the Knight of Wands as you ponder its meaning. It usually denotes a popular person prone to grand gestures crossing your way…this person may also be full of themselves and impetuous, leading them to make rushed and foolish decisions. You’re not exactly sure what this means for your date tonight, but you get the feeling that it won’t be favorable.

The next card has you blinking a couple times before leaning in just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. But the scene of three young women dancing in a circle with their golden chalices held high in a joyful toast remains the same. Curiouser and curiouser, you thought while tapping your nails on the desk, wondering if the proposed outcome of success is too good to be true. Drawing the Three of Cups is all around a good omen though, so you press onto the very last card of the spread.

A shiver runs up your spine at the sight of a man and a woman embracing each other in paradise. The consequences of tonight’s date will lead to what you’ve always wanted in your previous life…and what you desire now more than ever despite your cursed existence. Now I know it’s too good to be true, you consider sullenly, warning yourself to not get your hopes up as you begin clearing the desk. But a peculiar notion pops into your head when you touch The Lovers card again; it doesn’t seem like your usual stray thoughts at all…it feels like a sudden prediction of moments yet come…

Two souls shall converge in a moment of destiny.

“I didn’t take you for a fortune teller.”

Your head whips around at the sound of your lover’s voice. His soft lips curl into a smirk as you check out his delectable attire for tonight. The paisley pattern of the midnight blue jacket looks absolutely regal buttoned around his waist. A black and blue handkerchief pokes out of his jacket’s pocket, bringing your attention to the silky black lapels framing his broad chest. The matching black dress shirt and pants starkly contrasts with his silvery white hair while the Yamato hanging on his hip completes his elegant wardrobe.

“I don’t dabble in tarot much,” you explain while storing the cards back inside the small velvet bag. “But I thought a little insight might help us with our date tonight,” you admit, softly nipping your lower lip with a single fang as you get up from his desk.

Vergil hums in understanding as you stow the bag back on the appropriate shelf. “And where, exactly, shall this date take place?” he inquires, slicking back his perfectly styled hair while watching you with a curious gleam in his eyes.

Your hands become a blur as you quickly wrap your hair into a low bun before pinning it in place. “There’s this posh jazz lounge downtown,” you reveal while grabbing a starry headpiece with two chain swags. “It has an excellent bar, great music…” you pause for a moment as you carefully stick the headpiece right above your bun. “And some private sitting rooms for exclusive members,” you finish, clipping the two chains on either side of your head.

Vergil tilts his head. “Sounds like you’ve hunted there before.”

You chortle at his keen deduction as you swiftly fasten an elaborate shoulder necklace around your neck. “It was my usual haunt on those nights whenever I needed a break from blood packs,” you recall with an impish smirk while adjusting the hanging strings of pearls on your arms. “But I haven’t had to go back since you feed me so well, my love,” you point out with a playful purr before showing off your strapless black dress.

The sparkling diamonds and iridescent pearls twinkle like stars as you spin around with a slow and sensual twirl. His husky growl sends pleasant tingles below your belly as the skirt flares out, revealing your bare legs and black stiletto heels. You run a finger down your cleavage with a flirty grin, relishing the spark of desire in his silver blue eyes as your knee pokes out of the scandalously long slit of your dress.

“Well?” you prompt with a pleased smile. “What do you think?”

Vergil slowly stalks over to you. “Now I know why mortals can’t stay away when you’re on the prowl,” he softly declares while taking your hand. “You’re irresistible…” he trails off, turning your hand so that he may place a gentle kiss upon your wrist. “And utterly magnificent,” he murmurs with a reverent smile as he tips your chin up into his amorous kiss.

You grasp the lapels of his jacket as both of your lips slowly smack against each other for a moment before withdrawing with delighted hums. He offers his arm and you gladly accept by wrapping both of your hands around his elbow. His wicked smirk stirs that ever-present hunger deep inside you as he leads you out of his room, effectively distracting you from sharing one more crucial detail of the date.

“There’s one last thing I’d like to do before we leave,” you reveal nervously as both of you descend the stairs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this with anyone but…”

Vergil looks down at you inquisitively as you close your eyes and focus on reaching out with your mind. His eyes widen in shock as your quiet thoughts brush against his consciousness. “It’ll help us keep track of each other tonight,” you reassure, patiently waiting for him to let down his guard. You can feel him contemplating for a few moments before your mind is suddenly flooded with another presence. It feels familiar and little apprehensive, so you decide to test the connection with a simple thought.

Can you hear me, my love?

Vergil stares at your unmoving lips in wonder as your words pass through his mind. Then, he gives you an affectionate smile while his response slips past your barrier.

You continue to surprise me, my Evening Star.

“Shall we?” he asks aloud while opening the door.

Your soft giggle fills his mind as both of you leave the shop. He slashes open a portal with the Yamato and takes your arm before leading you to the other side. Then, you explain your powers and abilities in more detail as you both walk through the more upscale part of the city towards your destination. It doesn’t take long for both of you to arrive at The Nightingale, a high-end jazz lounge and your hunting ground for the night.

Vergil asks if a reservation is needed to enjoy this swanky club as you approach the entrance. You nod and admit that you’re not on the list but that can be rectified with just a few words. He quirks his brow at you as he opens the door, letting you enter first before following right behind you.

A young lady greets you in the entryway. “Hi! Welcome to The Nightingale! Your name, please?” she inquires with a friendly smile.

You give her some random name and as she looks down to check the list, you let a tiny bit of the magnetizing presence hidden within you slip out. “Hmm…I don’t see you…” she trails off with a soft gasp as her head snaps up to meet your gaze. “Gosh, you’re so pretty,” she admits with a dreamy sigh before blinking with surprise. “Oh! I’m so sorry, miss! I dunno what’s gotten into me,” she hastily apologizes with a shake of her head.

“Think nothing of it, darling,” you reassure with a tilt of your head as you stare into her awestruck eyes.

Your vampiric charm pulls her in deeper as you delve into her mind, sifting through a few recent memories before reshaping one for your intended purpose. “Perhaps you should check the list again,” you kindly suggest while receding from her mind. “We don’t want any trouble over a simple misunderstanding,” you add with a patient smirk as you glance over at Vergil, who looks just as confused and fascinated as the hostess.

“Yes, of course,” she replies before checking the list again. “Oh! There you are!” she exclaims while marking the exact name she now remembers you saying to begin with. “Must’ve misheard you…so sorry about that!” she apologizes again with a sheepish grin as she points down a nearby hall with huge double doors. You thank her with a smile before heading in that direction, silently amused at her quiet muttering about making a fool of herself in front of a beautiful stranger.

Vergil observes you from the corner of his eye before speaking softly. “It all makes sense now…how you’re so good at gathering information,” he muses with an amazed smirk as both of you come to a halt in the hallway.

“Oh, that’s nothing compared to what I’m about to do, my love,” you boast, noting the two doormen just outside the main venue as you stare up at him with a smug smile. His arms wrap around you as he chuckles at your boldness, bringing you in close to bestow a soft kiss above your brow.

“Happy hunting, my dear.”

And with that, he teleports away in a blink of an eye, leaving you to deal with the spooked doormen. Damnable devil, you thought while rolling your eyes with an annoyed huff. But you’re able to calm them down easily by assuming a peaceful aura within your vampiric presence. They both go back to their positions by the double doors and swing them open as you approach the loud and lively venue.

The smooth sounds of jazz along with the excited chatter of the crowd brings back memories of a past long forgotten. You pause just outside the door to capture this moment before a magnificent storm while nostalgia sweeps you away to a bygone age. Then, you slowly release the full majesty of your presence, letting it unfurl like a blooming flower as you stride into the main floor with your head held high.

All eyes are instantly upon you as the entirety of the club notices your grand entrance. Even the music slows down as your presence hits the musicians, but they quickly recover and find the rhythm again. You can’t help but to smirk at their awed stares and gaping faces as you pass by multiple tables. Several waiters completely ignore their current customers to assist you with your every need. Your soft laughter makes all their hearts beat faster, stirring your hunger as you request a secluded table on the second floor. Their heavenly sighs fill the air when they behold your gracious smile before rushing off to do their task.

You search for Vergil with your mind as you head up to the second floor, questioning if he successfully made it inside the venue unnoticed. His impressed hum brushing against your consciousness lets you know that he’s not only there but close by. Your eyes dart from side to side as you wonder where he could be hiding…but the mystery of his whereabouts has you shivering with anticipation. The thrill of being watched from the shadows runs through you as you’re seated on a plush couch by a table with a fantastic view of the stage.

That’s when your hunt truly begins.

Most of your kind usually like to roam around looking for their prey and play pretend as they chat up some gullible mortals. Then, they lure them to a private place where the ignorant human will experience the bliss of the Dark Kiss while their new acquaintance indulges in their blood. It’s typical of all vampires to hunt this way…but some predators wait for their prey to come to them.

And oh, do they come…like a swarm of moths to a dangerous flame.

Quite a few people approach you with various requests over the next hour. Some ask if they can join your table while others just want to buy you a drink. You accept some patrons at your table and refuse others, steadily surrounding yourself with potential prey while listening to excellent jazz. Your keen sense of hearing picks up their whispered conversation, learning a little about these mortals as you judge the potency of their blood. All of them show promise but their constant gawking and shallow compliments are boring you to death…again!

Your eyes begin to wander as the band starts playing a slow and smoky tune, totally changing the atmosphere of the club to something more intimate. And that’s when you spy a young woman standing by the bar, trying her hardest to not get caught staring as she peeks over at your table. How adorable, you muse while admiring her curves and pretty dress. You tilt your head with interest when her body quivers under your alluring gaze, which only whets your appetite even more…that is until the sudden appearance of a young man distracts her.

You manage to hold back the irritable growl crawling up your throat at this unfortunate interruption. But you continue to watch closely as they start talking, noting that they must know each other very well going by their friendly demeanor. The woman must have mentioned you since the man glances your way and his body instantly reacts much like his lady friend. Your brow quirks as they lean in close, sharing a few more hushed whispers before turning around to face you together.

Oh my…what an adventurous couple, you surmise, softly laughing to yourself as you dismiss your entourage with a mere flick of your hand. They all follow your silent command without question, leaving you alone with a couple bottles of unopened champagne. You pat the now empty couch with your hand as you lure them over with an inviting grin.

The daring couple immediately join you and introduce themselves while sitting on either side of you on the couch. You take one of the bottles of champagne and pop the cork, smiling at their eager faces as you kindly offer to pour them a drink. They each grab a glass and propose a toast about seizing opportunities for new experiences before taking a sip as you steer the conversation towards themselves.

It doesn’t take much cajoling to learn that they’re not only a couple but engaged, and you just so happen to catch them the night before their wedding! You ask why they’ve chosen to spend their time with you rather than enjoying each other’s company and they both give a vague answer…but curiosity gets the better of you. So, you simply urge them to be honest with your captivating presence, holding them even tighter within your seductive sway as they spill all their dirty little secrets.

Oh, this is just too delicious! you gush when they reveal one in particular fantasy about having a threesome with a gorgeous stranger. You lean in real close to each of them and whisper your own craving for something new and exciting, tempting both of them with the promise of exquisite pleasure as you nibble on their ear. Your hunger intertwines with lust as you eye both of their necks, reveling in the aroused blood running through their veins.

You’re absolutely ravenous by the time they finish off one bottle of champagne, and you dare say that your venturesome couple is ready for more…but the sudden announcement of a song request draws your attention. You look down at the stage to see the bandleader pointing up in your direction.

“This next song is for the star up above.”

The band begins playing some mediocre number that barely manages to be tolerable. Your brow furrows at the awful request while your lovely couple remains totally oblivious to your confusion. The insidious whispers of paranoia invade your thoughts, but you push them aside as you mentally reach out to Vergil.

Did you…?

His reply is swift with a hint of cold anger.

No. It was him.

You scan the room and instantly spot the man that has provoked the ire of your fierce fella. It’s not hard to pick him out with that shameless leer on his face as he struts towards you. As he gets closer, you feel this distinctive shift in the air around him while the potency of his blood sets you on edge. You can sense his influence seeping through the mortals around him, bending their will in a show of dominance as he finally makes it to your table.

There’s no mistaking it.

You’re in the presence of another vampire.

“Hey there, sugar,” he greets, making your skin crawl as his lips curve into an oily smile. “Mind if I join you?”

You give him a quick once over before looking back up with an unimpressed frown. “Would if I could but I’m quite busy at the moment,” you decline coolly, wrapping an arm around the woman as you tousle the man’s hair.

“Aww, c’mon now…can’t a couple of night owls share a drink?” he persists as his eyes flicker over your adventurous couple.

Your eyes squint into an icy glare. “Go get your own and leave me be.”

The meddling mosquito laughs in your face. “Listen, I don’t appreciate you moving in on my turf without the proper courtesy that’s expected of one so young,” he discloses while that oily smile turns more sinister with every word. “But I’m willing to put this lil’ transgression behind us.”

You roll your eyes as he moves in closer, encroaching on your personal space while staring you down. His lecherous gaze makes your blood boil as a foreign presence slams against consciousness. “All you have to do is-” he abruptly gets cut off as his eyes meet with your furious stare.

KNEEL!

Your harsh command assaults his mind with overwhelming force. His knees buckle under the weight of your superior power as he falls to the ground. He looks back up at you in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide as he begins to grovel at your feet. “I’m deeply sorry, mistress…I didn’t realize-”

SILENCE!

The pathetic little tick instantly shuts his gaping mouth. “I know for a fact this is not your turf,” you reveal, slowly raising his chin up with your foot before shoving the tip of your stiletto heel between his lips. “In fact, no one has claim over this place…until tonight.”

His eyes widen in terror as you pierce his filthy damned soul with your scornful gaze. You mentally nudge the young woman beside you to grab the bottle of champagne off of the table. She complies and pops the cork before handing it over with a sweet smile, not even acknowledging the cowering vampire kneeling before you.

“It’s all mine now.”

Your overpowering dominance keeps him from standing up or speaking out as you pour every last drop of champagne atop of his head. An amused chuckle flits through your mind as the sparkling bubbly dribbles down his mortified face. You wedge the tip of your heel deeper between his teeth, letting the slope of your foot guide a good amount of champagne into his mouth. He gags and tries to spit it out, but you command him to swallow every fizzy drop, knowing that he’ll have to suffer through the unpleasant process of purging it from his body once you’re done with him.

You order him to clean your foot as soon as the champagne stops flowing, carefully instructing him to only lick the bottom since your stiletto heels are way too expensive for his vile tongue. Your lips curl into a cruel smirk as he laps up all the dirt and grime with a disgusted frown on his face. You take pleasure in his humiliation while handing the empty bottle over to the young man sitting calmly beside you. And when you tire of his submissive cleaning, you decide to give this worthless tick one last word of warning before setting him free.

“I highly suggest you never darken my domain again,” you threaten while molding his will like wet clay, “unless you want to suffer a fate worse than Final Death.”

And with that final command, you release him with a dismissive wave of your hand. He quickly stands up and tries to speak, but something behind you catches him off guard. You see a flicker of blue reflect in his horrified eyes, visibly shaking with unbridled fear as he slowly backs away before making a hasty departure.

You follow his speedy retreat until he’s no longer in sight. “Now, where were we?” you murmur while cupping the lady’s cheek as your foot rubs up and down the young man’s leg. “Ah yes…I remember now.” Your hungry gaze flickers between your adventurous couple before looking at one of the private sitting rooms. Their bodies shiver in delight as you finally close in on your prey with one final question:

“Care to join me somewhere more private?”

🌹🦇🌹 (Vergil’s POV) 🌹🦇🌹

Vergil knew he was in for an intriguing experience when he agreed to this lascivious date. So far, it’s played out exactly as he expected: you’ve ensnared everyone in the club with your enthralling presence and caught some prey within your alluring web. The detestable appearance of another vampire nearly made him come out of hiding to cut him down. But he stayed his hand and watched as his Evening Star bent the miscreant to her will before ordering him to leave immediately.

Remarkable, he muses, impatiently wringing the collar of his dress shirt while intense yearning flushes through his body. His keen ears pick up your sensual whisper as you ask the enamored young couple to follow you somewhere else. They nod their heads eagerly before wrapping themselves around each of your arms. He hears your voice ringing through his mind like a delicate breeze as you stand up and glance at a vacant room guarded by a doorman.

Better hurry, my love…the show’s about to begin.

Vergil smirks at your playful tone as you glide across the floor with refined grace. He follows close behind, trying his best to remain unseen while waiting for an opening to sneak into the room. Your captivating gaze falls upon the doorman, staring at him with intense focus while muttering under your breath. His eyes glaze over as he stands stock still for a few seconds before snapping out his momentary daze. Then, the doorman smiles politely at your approach and opens the door for you, giving Vergil the opportunity to slink in after you when he walks away.

He quietly shuts the door behind him and creeps among the shadows of the room, checking for any sign of the couple being aware of an uninvited guest. But you have them wrapped around your finger, completely infatuated and fawning over your every move as you lead them to a large couch in the corner. He leans against the opposite wall as you guide the woman to sit down and halt the young man from following suit by gently placing your hand on his chest.

“Ladies first.”

The young man shivers and nods his head in understanding. He moves to stand by the young woman while you sit beside her, giving Vergil a perfect view as the climax of your hunt begins. You cup her face and bring her in close, only stopping a hair’s breadth from her lips as your hands slide down her neck. She whimpers and tries to lean in for a kiss, but you gently push her to lie down on the couch and continue to caress the curves of her body.

Vergil remains motionless as you lift the young woman’s dress up, spreading her legs to reveal her soaking wet panties. His cock twitches as you settle between her thighs, nipping at her skin while moving lower and lower…then, the woman gasps and her face contorts in pain for only a second before slacking in pleasure as your fangs sink into the prominent vein near her clothed sex.

“Holy shit,” the young man grunts, palming his bulging crotch as he watches you partake of his lover.

Vergil finds himself mirroring the action, cupping his aching cock while taking in every detail of this depraved moment. The euphoric moans of the young woman as she writhes in pleasure on the couch has him itching to loosen his pants. But he resists the urge to touch himself and just continues to witness the power his Evening Star welds over these mortals.

You withdraw from the woman after drinking a couple more mouthfuls and pin the young man down with your lustful gaze. His eyes widen as you smack your red lips, letting out a pleased hum while drops of blood dribble down your chin. “What the fuck?!” he gasps with realization as you bend down and close the wounds on his lover’s thigh with a swipe of your tongue.

Vergil senses his fear and summons the Yamato at the ready for a quick getaway if needed. But you simply rush over to him in a mere second and place a single finger on his trembling lips. “Shh,” you coo, staring deeply into his eyes as you ease him to a state of total relaxation. His lips curve into a dopey smile as you circle around and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” you whisper while staring down at the blissed-out woman still laying on the couch.

“Y-yes!” he gasps as your fangs graze his ear. “I love her so much,” he tacks on with genuine fondness, making your lips quirk into an amused smirk while prompting him to look at you once more.

“Be a good boy and feed your mistress.”

The young man turns around and bares his neck for you. He seems to melt in your embrace as you scrape your fangs against the pulsating vein. You peer over his shoulder before biting down, seemingly staring right where Vergil is standing in shadows. The young man grunts in pain as your fangs sink into his flesh, but then he moans as his body quakes in pleasure.

Vergil’s grip on the Yamato tightens as his other hand moves on its own accord, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants while you enjoy your second drink of the night. He quietly hisses as his cock springs free from its tight confines, already engorged and weeping white droplets at the tip. His blatant gaze never wavers from your mesmerizing stare as he finally succumbs to his deepest desire and begins pleasuring himself. He grits his teeth with every pump of his hand, consciously holding back any grunts and growls that try to escape his throat. The intense yearning from earlier overtakes his mind, hardening his cock even more with the thought of you handling mortals like mere playthings.

After a few more moments of silently watching each other, you release the young man’s neck with a pleased hiss. Your tongue closes his wounds with a quick lick before relinquishing him from your grasp. You softly gasp and cover your delighted smirk with a dainty hand as you examine the huge wet spot on the front of his pants.

“Looks like somebody got too excited!” you playfully note while directing him to sit next to his lover on the couch. “But that’s alright,” you sigh as the young man just smiles happily, totally oblivious to coming undone by your sensual bite alone. “I know exactly what you need for round two,” you divulge with a wicked gleam in your eye as you take a seat between them.

Vergil pauses at your mysterious words and quirks his eyebrow when you prick your middle finger with one of your fangs. “Both of you have pleased your mistress greatly,” you gush while holding your hand over to the young woman. “So as a reward…” you murmur as a few droplets of your blood drips between her parted lips.

The young woman lets out an ecstatic cry as your thick and redolent nectar touches her tongue. You let her suckle on your finger for a moment before giving the young man his fair share of his prize. He also cries out at the taste of your blood, eagerly lapping every drop off your finger. The front of his pants grow tight with his reinvigorated arousal while his lover rubs her cunt through her drenched panties.

You get up from the couch and stare at the hedonistic couple with a satisfied smile. “I suggest you fuck each other hard and rough,” you coax with a provocative purr. “Oh! And one more thing,” you quickly add while cupping both of their enraptured faces. “After you both come…” you trail off as they meet your entrancing gaze, remaining still and silent until he hears you whispering your final command.

FORGET.

Vergil sees the light in their eyes glaze over as you slowly retreat from the couch. He swiftly puts his cock away and waits until you’re close enough to pounce on you. His arm encircles your waist before dragging you back into the shadows.

“You shine so brightly, my Evening Star,” he whispers fondly, earning a quiet giggle and soft whimper from you as he nibbles your ear.

Your head tilts to the side as you look up at him from the corner of your eye. “Enjoy the show, my love?” you inquire with a naughty grin while grinding against his crotch.

“Immensely.”

“Mmm…I’ll say!” you quietly exclaim with glee while eyeing his straining cock.

You suddenly become a blur of motion before his eyes, completely taking him off guard as he leans back against the wall. His head snaps down to see his pants by his knees and you licking the underside of his cock, pulling a surprised grunt from him while the sound of passionate sex fills the air. You gesture with your head towards the swooning couple, subtly prodding him to watch as they fulfill your request.

Vergil beholds the scene of pure debauchery just a few feet in front of him: torn clothes strewn across the floor surround the couple vigorously making love on the couch. He focuses on the lady bouncing up and down in the young man’s lap, admiring her swaying breasts as she struggles to keep up with her lover’s fast pace. His curious gaze lingers down to where they’re connected, so wet and slippery as they slap against each other over and over. He feels your mouth sink all the way down his cock as both of their cries of shared ecstasy stoke the flames of his desire.

You waste no time with your usual teasing and start sucking him off with the fervor of a wanton harlot, eagerly bobbing your head in time with the couple’s raunchy pace. Their litany of shameless moans drown out his approving growl as he cups the back of your head and thrusts his hips to meet every downstroke of your mouth. He can feel his cock growing more taut against your tongue while the tightening sensation of imminent release pools below his belly. The hand clenching the Yamato starts to shake as he pursues that blessed peak of pleasure, approaching fast and getting closer and closer and closer…

The private room’s door abruptly bursts open, startling both him and the randy couple but not you in the slightest. A strange sensation swathes him with a spine-tingling chill as a doorman hurries inside and begins asking the couple to get dressed. Your lips curl into knowing smirk around his cock, still sucking with gusto as his heart begins to pound with the thrill of getting caught.

The doormen turns his head towards your hiding spot in the shadowy corner. Vergil takes the Yamato in both hands and presses its sheath against the back of your head, effectively barring you from making any more movement. But that doesn’t stop your tongue from lavishing his shaft…nor your hands from caressing his innermost thighs. He purses his lips and glares down at you in warning while attempting to remain silently composed.

You look up at his scowling face as your fangs elongate in defiance, grazing the silky skin around the base of his cock. The lone doorman comes closer, peering at the darkened corner as you stroke and squeeze his balls. The preserve thought of coming undone in front of a total stranger makes his pleasure soar sky high, climbing higher and higher until his impending release starts to curl and crest…and despite his best efforts to stubbornly resist, he comes crashing down with a restrained roar at the back of this throat.

Vergil watches as the doorman scratches his head in confusion, seemingly unaware of a devilish intruder emptying his load into your mouth. He doesn’t dare to move with the doorman standing so close, resigning to just enjoy the decadence of such carnal delights as the last tremors of his orgasm leaves him breathless. But the doorman eventually departs with the perplexed couple in tow, finally giving both of you respite from the utterly tense yet highly arousing situation. He glances down at you through half-lidded eyes, noting the white streaks of his seed leaking down your pretty chin with a gratified hum.

Your lips curve into a pleased grin as you pull his spent cock out of your mouth. He knows that you can’t partake of his seed, but the thought of you spitting it out seems like a waste. So, he sweeps you up into his arms before you find a trash bin and captures your lips with a hungry kiss. You throw your arms around his neck as he pries your mouth open, softly moaning while thick white cum trickles down on his waiting tongue. He swings you around and presses your back against the wall, eagerly drinking every last drop before tearing away from your lush lips with a low growl.

“I have half a mind to punish you for your disobedience,” he scolds with an irritable snarl.

“Even though you liked it?” you point out with an amused giggle. “You shouldn’t have let me taste you again if you really wanted to berate me for fulfilling your voyeuristic fantasies,” you point out while licking your lips with a satisfied hum. His brow twitches at your response but he doesn’t deny that he enjoyed the rush of adrenaline when the doorman unknowingly looked straight at him. You smile knowingly as he lowers you down to the ground with an indignant huff.

“And don’t worry, my love,” you coo softly as he makes himself presentable again. “I cloaked us both in the shadows of their mind, so we weren’t in any real danger of being caught.”

Vergil pauses as he remembers the strange sensation that overtook him when the doorman showed up. “You’ve failed to mention that you can extend that deceptive power to me,” he mutters with a suspicious squint while zipping up his pants and buckling his belt.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” you note with a nonchalant shrug and cheeky grin.

A rumbling growl emanates from his throat as he crowds you against the wall with his looming height. “Such insolence will not go unpunished, my dear.”

You nip your lower lip with a single fang as his hand slides up along the slit of your dress before slipping between your legs. He softly growls while stroking you over the flimsy fabric of your panties, utterly pleased by slick essence of your sex dripping down his long fingers. You whimper as he shows off just how wet you are by bringing his hand up close to his face before licking a finger clean. Then, he presses another glistening finger against your lips, silently demanding you to open your mouth while gazing down at you with dark promise in his eyes. You hum indulgently while sucking his finger clean before titillating him with your brazen response to his enticing threat.

“I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me, my love.”

I’d like to thank @bettybattaglia for her galaxy brain idea of champagne guzzling and heel licking! And I gotta give a shout to all my fellow judgement sluts in the discord server for encouraging this filth! 😂🙈

Tagging: @drusoona @exsultry @tehrevving @varen-neoraven @shiranyaaww

#vergil #vergil x reader #devil may cry #dmc #vampire reader #Prowling For Pleasure #nothing like a night on the town with your fierce fella #hope y'all are ready for some shameless filth 😏#harlot writes

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