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scarrletmoon · 1 year

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okay i know the Discourse™️ has been going on for way too long at this point, but

i think some people outside of the OFMD fandom don’t actually get why we’re particularly annoying about this show

OFMD is not the first queer show to ever exist. if anything, it's a late entry in decades of queer media. over a year and a half since the first few episodes aired, everyone knows that OFMD is queer. that doesn't make it particularly special

but back in March? this is the trailer that dropped in February of 2022, 2 weeks before the premier. if you're used to seeing queer chemistry in shows that aren't intended to be queer, you might see the hints between Ed and Stede here. but to most people? it's just a silly little pirate comedy. just guys being dudes. the trailer doesn't even hint at the other 2 canonical queer relationships in the show -- the closest it gets suggesting romance is the music and the pink in the poster

so when people watched this show in March 2022, they went into it expecting subtext and nothing else. to them, it was like watching Sherlock or Supernatural or Merlin in the 2010s. if you were in any of those fandoms -- especially Sherlock and Supernatural -- you know what it was like; constant jokes at our expense, being mocked for creating explicit fanwork, made fun of by the creators and within the show itself. if we saw queer subtext, that was our problem. this was a time when you pretended NOT to be in fandom, for fear of ridicule. we kept our fanwork to ourselves, we DID NOT share it with the cast, and we accepted that our favourite ships would probably never be canon. maybe one day, if we were lucky, we'd have a show where the subtext wasn't mockery as much as deliberate foreshadowing -- but that had to be YEARS away

right?

OFMD was never billed as a queer show, not in the beginning. there was no LGBTQ+ tag on (HBO) Max, it wasn't on anyone's list of upcoming queer shows in 2022, it flew under the radar through most of its first season. this was a show about pirates, and sure, some of them were queer. but not the LEADS. if you think they're romantically involved, that's must be fandom brain poisoning

except the 9th episode aired, and they kissed. and the show said "you're not crazy for thinking they have chemistry because they really do. it's been a romance this whole time". and in the 10th episode, Stede realizes that he's in love

(not mandating you watch this clip if you don't care for the show, but there's something that feels particularly earth shattering about no one saying the word gay but knowing that Stede's realizing he is, that it's completely unambiguous and explicit in a way that only straight romances are usually allowed to be)

this is why people freaked out about this show. no one knew. even the creator, David Jenkins, was surprised when WE were surprised that it was gay for real -- he set out to write a love story, using all the tried and true beats of a rom com. he'd never even heard of the term queerbaiting. he looked at historical Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet and thought "oh, there's something here" and just...wrote that, with very little fanfare, like it was inevitable. like it was obvious. of course Jim and Pam end up together. of course Buttercup and Westley end up together. what kind of disappointing ending would it be if You've Got Mail ended with the main characters just going their separate ways?

so of course Ed and Stede are in love

look, i get it. we're annoying and won't shut the fuck up about this show that seems mediocre at best. i watched the whole thing back in march, thought "huh, that was cool" and was sure that i'd forget about it in a few days

an hour after looking at fanart on twitter, i was lost in the fucking sauce

there's just so much to unpack from a mere 10 episodes. it covers racism, toxic masculinity, gender expression, sexuality, trauma and abuse. and i don't think we should overlook the fact that the non-white characters in this show get to be fully human in a way i haven't seen in my favourite shows in recent memory

additionally, most OFMD are 25 or older. we're not people who've been spoiled by queer rep, who don't get how hard it used to be, how you'd have to grovel for scraps, how shipping and fanfiction was a way to find queer rep where we thought there never would be. we've been here. we're annoying about this show because for a lot of us, it's the first time we've been treated like our queerness isn't an anomaly that needs to be relegated to its own section, that needs to be praised for the bare minimum of acknowledging that we exist. it's not pulling punches to avoid scaring away a straight audience. it just is.

OFMD for me is like when i watched Black Panther for the first time and realized that this is what white people felt all the time. have there been other black superhero movies? of course! does Disney fucking suck? BOY does it. but that was the first time i got to sit in a movie theater and watch a mainstream film that looked at Africa and said "look at how beautiful you are, exactly as you are"

and idk. i think that's really cool

#scarrlet rambles #ofmd #cant wait for all 5 notes on this post #and dont be fucking mean i'm not trying to start shit #anon is off btw if you want to try that #we're going to have a productive conversation or none at all we're adults here #for some reason tumblr didn't save my links and stuff THANKS TUMBLR #anyway the typo version is floating around now i guess 🥲

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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 days

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𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗲 ; 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ୨୧

➪ summary: the boys are always going to be there for their little sister, whether that's after a game, when she has a nightmare, at the end of a bad day, or when she's going through a breakup

➪ warnings: reader has a bad day, breakup

➪ word count: 4.0k

➪ file type: new fic (hinted at being in the baby bear universe)

➪ sunny's notes: i have been slaving away so hard to get this fic down and i'm so happy it finally is! i hope you guys enjoy this and feel free to start sending in asks and things about the baby bear universe!

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⟹ game day ; quinn - 13, reader - 7

Y/n had been bouncing off the walls since her parents told her that they were going to Quinn’s game. This happened every time she went to one of their games, it was her favorite thing to do. Not only did she get to watch her brother play, but she also got to watch her favorite sport, a win-win situation if you asked her. Ellen, however, was regretting her decision to tell her daughter. While she knew she would be hyper, she somehow continued to do it despite knowing it.

Currently, Jim had taken Quinn to the rink while Ellen tried to rangle her daughter. Jack and Luke weren’t being the least bit helpful as they sat in the latter's room playing a random video game. Y/n was running down the hallway in one of Quinn’s other jerseys he had acquired through the year, not making it easy on her mother before they left themselves.

After 10 minutes, her mom was able to get her to calm down and sit at the kitchen table with a plate of apple slices. Y/n ate them quietly as thoughts raced through her head about the game. She was hoping Quinn’s team would win, she was hoping Quinn would score a goal. But no matter the outcome, she was hoping she’d gate postgame hugs from everyone on the team, it was one of her favorite perks of being a younger sister.

When the time game, she skipped happily out to the car, the rest of her family following behind her with less excited expressions on their faces. Jack sat on the other side of his sister as Luke sat in the back making comments about random things (mostly complaining about having to go to Quinn’s game).

Y/n sang along to the music that the radio was playing, swinging her feet back and forth. And then she decided to annoy Jack and Luke, “Jack! Jack! Jack!”

“Yes, y/n?” Said boy turned towards her with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you excited for the game?”

“Sure.”

She frowned and thought to herself ‘how could he not be excited for the game?’. She quickly decided to end her pestering, knowing it would only end in her upset or Ellen angry at the three of them. She went back to looking out the window and quietly naming things she saw to pass the time in the car.

Once they got to the arena, she held Ellen’s hand as they walked in. They took their seats amongst the other families that were sitting there, most of the moms making conversation with Ellen. Not long after, Jim made his way up to them, sitting at the end next to Luke.

Y/n thought that it would be a good time for a pregame nap, so she laid her head on Jack’s shoulder and slept until the horn sounded through the arena. She was briefly startled before she became aware of her surroundings and stood up and started cheering for everything and everyone.

The other four Hughes’ quickly got used to her cheering and just smiled everytime they heard her voice at this point. The other families around them also adored her and her antics, thinking it was sweet that she always came to cheer on her brother and the rest of the team.

Throughout the game, y/n screamed loudly when Quinn’s team got a goal or their goalie blocked a shot. She only got scolded twice for booing the opposing team, which was much improvement from the last game she was at. Whenever Quinn was on the ice, she would yell his name in hopes that he would hear her. Most of her efforts were in vain until the third period when she had either finally screamed loud enough that Quinn had been actively paying attention to the noise of the crowd.

His head quickly snapped to where he thought the noise was coming from, scanning the crowd for his hyper little sister who he found jumping and waving her arms. He was able to wave his arms in her direction which unbeknownst to him caused her to smile and look at their mom excitedly, “Mommy! Mommy! Quinny waved at me!”

Ellen looked up from where she was sitting next to her and smiled, “Did he now? That’s amazing, sweetheart.”

She just nodded happily and sat back down, swinging her feet like earlier. The rest of the game went by quickly, y/n slowly growing tired from the amount of cheering and moving she had done. By the end of the game, she had practically fallen asleep against Jack’s shoulder once more. She walked through the crowd of people clinging on to her dad as they made their way to find Quinn.

They stood at the entrance to the tunnel, y/n watching as other players walked out to their families. Despite her shy nature around most people, she had no issues giving or accepting hugs from each player who walked by her. Most of them patted her head while some also thanked her for her cheering.

After what seemed like ages to the little girl, her eyes finally laid upon her older brother, and wasted no time walking over to him. She crashed into him harshly, wrapping her arms around his waist. Quinn wrapped his arms around her, dropping his stuff in order to, “Hey y/n/n.”

“Hi, Quinny.” She mumbled, keeping her head buried in the jacket he was wearing.

Quinn gave a look to his parents before picking her up and following the rest of his family to their car. Y/n got herself situated immediately; laying her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck, curling into him, and cringing slightly at the way he smelled, “Quinny?”

“Yes, baby bear?”

“You smell.”

He let out a soft chuckle, “I can put you down if you want?”

“No no no, it’s okay.”

And before Quinn knew it, he heard her soft snores. He placed her down in the car, making his way to the other side of the car to sit next to her. He made sure everyone kept quiet on the way back, not wanting him or his parents to deal with his cranky little sister at this time.

Jim went to carry her inside when they got home but Quinn shook his head and carried her inside to her room, tucking her in and placing her stuffed animal bear in her arms. He kissed her head and mumbled a quick ‘Love you’ before walking to his room to change and shower.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

⟹ nightmare comfort ; jack - 10, reader - 6

It wasn’t often that she would have nightmares, but when they happened, they were awful. It was close to 3 in the morning when she woke up from one, her eyes snapping open in terror and a small whine escaping her.

She was confused, she didn’t know what to do or what was happening, what was real and what wasn’t. The only thing she did know was that she wanted her older brother. So she climbed out of bed, dragging her teddy bear and small blanket with her as she made her way down the hallway to Jack’s room.

She knocked hesitantly, knowing he wouldn’t be awake but still wanting to be nice. When she received no answer, she pushed the door open slightly and made her way into the room. She was careful to not get her blanket caught on anything Jack had laying on the ground, picking it up as she walked closer to the bed.

She whispered his name a few times but she continued to get no response from the boy. She tried again and again but every try went unnoticed. She didn’t really want to disturb his sleep so she quietly went to the other side of his bed, placing both her bear and her blanket on the bed before climbing up and sitting next to him.

It was only when she finally got comfy that Jack noticed her, turning around in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. He went to shift over but he hit something soft and unfamiliar which caused his eyes to open. His arm had hit her bear and he instantly knew what happened. He murmured her name to see if she was awake and watched as her eyes slowly opened, “Hi Jacky.”

“Hey baby bear, whatcha doin?” He wrapped his comforter around her, allowing her to scoot closer into his arms.

“Nightmare.”

He frowned and finished tucking her into his blanket, “I’m sorry, y/n/n. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You would never bother me with something like this, okay?”

She just nodded, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No thank you.”

“Alright, y/n/n.”

The two were silent and then y/n could feel her stomach grumbling, “Jacky?”

“Yes, baby bear?”

“Me Hungry.”

He chuckled softly before nodding, “I’ll go get some goldfish for you okay? You want some water too?”

“Yes please.”

“I’ll be back then.”

She watched him get up and walk out the door. She listened for his footsteps down the stairs and the slight movements from him downstairs. She looked around his room, eyeing all the posters of hockey players and all his medals and trophies. She smiled happily at them and curled further into the bed.

Jack came back upstairs a few minutes later with two small bowls of goldfish, and two water bottles full of water. He handed one bowl to her and her favorite colored water bottle to her, helping her sit up on the bed.

He sat down next to her and started eating his goldfish before she interrupted him, “Jacky?”

“Yes?”

“Can we watch Max and Ruby?”

“Sure, y/n/n.” He reached down and grabbed his iPad from under his bed and turned it on to navigate to Max and Ruby.

Y/n laid against her older brother and continued to eat her goldfish and drink her water as they watched one of her favorite shows. Halfway through the episode, she fell asleep leaving her goldfish finished and her water empty. Jack laughed and closed his iPad and got himself and her comfortable again before falling back asleep as well.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

⟹ bad day ; luke - 18, reader - 16

Luke had texted her and asked if she was riding home with him after school, but he never got an answer from her. He had texted her during both of their lunch periods, so he knew she was on her phone. It usually wasn’t this late in the day when he would just be finding out how his sister would get home. There were only three options, himself, their mom or dad, or one of her friends.

By the end of the day, he still hadn’t received an answer from her, so he sat in his car for about 10 minutes after school and that’s when he saw her text that told him he could go. Initially, he hesitated, he knew there was something wrong with her, okay maybe he didn’t know but he could feel that something was wrong. But who was he to not follow what she said?

An hour after he arrived home he could hear the front door open and a thud before it closed again. He made his way downstairs and saw y/n sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, looking down at her phone. Her head snapped up the footsteps and she placed her phone down on the counter, watching his movements.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, especially for the time of day it was.

He furrowed his eyebrows and took a seat next to her, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Her response was quick, practiced.

Luke rolled his eyes, “Uh huh. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!”

“Bull shit.”

She hopped off her seat and went to grab the bag of goldfish from the pantry. She came back and stood against the island, continuing to watch as Luke came up with ideas for why she was acting the way she was.

In return, Luke stared at her and her actions, the quick and fake answers, her comfort food, all tell tale signs that was not okay. While his mind couldn’t come up with any good ideas on what might’ve happened to make her upset, he still wanted to make her happy.

So doing what any of them would do, he dragged her over to the couch, handed her the remote and let her choose what she wanted to watch. At first, he thought she would’ve picked Tangled, one of her all time favorite movies, but was pleasantly surprised when she turned on Beauty and the Beast and settled into the couch.

He made his way back to the doorway, grabbing her backpack to bring it up to her room. When he came back down he threw her blanket at her before walking into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. He knew how to cheer her up, he had grown used to all of the things that made her happy. Hot chocolate, goldfish, her blanket, a Disney movie. It was unusual to see the bear out as she grew older, but it still sat in the middle of her bed.

He came back with her favorite mug and handed it to her, acknowledging her soft ‘thank you’. He watched the movie with her, drinking his own hot chocolate and sometimes stealing some of her goldfish. That usually ended with a slap to the hand but also with a few crackers, he would always claim that it was worth it.

When the movie ended, he saw y/n’s side eye in his direction. He raised his eyebrow and looked over at her, “What?”

“Are you going to make me talk about it?”

“No… but I am going to make you tell me if someone did something.”

She shook her head, “Just a crappy day.”

Luke could get on board with that, simply nudging her side and nodding his head in the direction of the remote, “Pick another.”

“You don’t have to stay here, I can just go watch movies in my room.”

“Nonsense, I would never leave you on a bad day to watch movies by yourself. I got all night. Go on.”

She smiled at him before scrolling to find another movie. She looked down at her mug once it started and frowned, “Lukey?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you make me more hot chocolate?”

He stared at her with a blank face before holding his hand out, “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, baby bear.” He teased as he ruffled her hair.

“Dick.”

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

⟹ breakup ; quinn - 23, jack - 21, luke - 19, reader - 17

She hadn’t been expecting it, or maybe she had and just didn’t want to acknowledge reality. She had thought they had been okay, everything was going well and then just out of nowhere, he sent a text. A text that no girl ever wanted to receive, “I want to break up.”

She knew there wasn’t anything she had done to make him feel differently about her, at least that’s what the logical part of her brain said. Yet, she couldn’t help but think deep in her mind that she had done something to change his mind, to make him stop loving her.

The text was sent at 8:23 p.m., the first thing she saw when she finished her homework. It happened quickly, probably, maybe, she didn’t know if she was totally honest. She remembered her phone dropping, the instant tears that came to her eyes, the whirlwind of emotions she felt. She didn’t remember curling up in her bed, holding her bear to her chest, head digging into the pillow.

That was how Luke found her. At first he had thought she had watched a sad movie or a sad tiktok but then he saw the bear. The bear she only brought out when she was extremely upset or one of the boys placed it in her arms. He knew something had to be seriously wrong for it to make an appearance.

He slowly padded over to the side of her bed, squatting down so his face was mostly level with her own, “Y/n/n?”

Her eyes fluttered open at Luke’s soft voice, tears immediately visible in them. Luke winced and frowned at the sight, cringing at the whimper she let out, “Luke.”

He wasted no time standing up and sitting next to her on the bed. At first she didn’t make any signs of moving closer to him, nervous that he would tease her for crying. But then he lifted his one arm and placed it amongst her pillows and she scooted towards him, crying into his sweatshirt.

For a few moments, he didn’t do anything, just sat there silently as she cried. Then he moved his arm to wrap around her and pulled her closer into his side, kissing the top of her head. Y/n still kept her bear close to her chest even as she laid in her brother’s grip, not wanting to let go even for a minute. Luke thought about calling Jack and Quinn, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if she wanted them to see her like this.

So, he waited a while, mostly until she calmed down. And that’s when he asked, “Do you want me to call Quinn and Jack?”

Confusion flashed across his face when she nodded her head, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He nodded with a murmur, “I’ll be right back okay?”

He gave her another kiss on her head before untangling himself and walking out of the room. Y/n could only hear his muffled voice from where she laid, millions of thoughts running through her head. Most of them were about Daniel and why he broke up with her, but some about the conversation that was happening outside her door creeped in.

Meanwhile, Luke was struggling to get a hold of either of his two older brothers. Both of them had been out with some of their friends, Luke wanting to stay home and be lazy all day. He had originally just gone into Y/n’s room to see if she wanted to order some food with him and that’s when this happened.

Finally, Luke had gotten a hold of Quinn who answered with a heavy sigh, “Yes Luke?”

He only rolled his eyes, “We have a problem.”

“We as in the three of us or we as in you and y/n/n?”

“Technically both?”

That’s what gained Quinn’s alertness. He instantly shushed the group of guys he was around, sticking one finger in his ear to block out the rest of the noise that came from the bar. Most of them looked at him quizzically while the rest looked at him with annoyance, “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I walked into y/n’s room and she was just crying, wouldn’t say anything. When she finally calmed down I asked her if she wanted me to call you guys and she said yes, so I called.”

“And when you mean crying…?”

“The bear was in fact there.”

“Alright we’re on our way.”

“Get food and ice cream. She hasn’t been out of her room since she’s been home.”

“Okay.” And then the line went quiet.

At the bar, Quinn grabbed his jacket and eyed Jack, “Let’s go.”

“What? What’s going on?” Despite his questions, Jack followed him, grabbing his own jacket.

“Y/n.”

And that was all Jack needed to hear to understand the urgency of the situation.

ﾟ +*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke made his way back to the bedroom, shoving his phone back in his pocket, “They’re on their way, baby bear.”

She nodded, sitting up in the slightest. Her back now rested against the headboard, her knees curled up into her chest. He sat next to her and she laid her head on his shoulder, playing with the fur from her stuffed animal.

It was quiet for a while, neither of them knowing what to say. Yet, the curiosity ate away at Luke’s brain so it wasn’t too long before he asked, “You wanna tell me what happened?”

She briefly looked up, not at him just forward, before shaking her head and looking back down. He frowned again, “Are you going to wait until they get home?”

This time she nodded and he let out a soft sigh of relief. He wasn’t oblivious to her tendencies to keep her emotions bottled up, most of the time they had to be relentlessly annoying to even get her to tell them how she was feeling. So the fact that she said she would tell them lifted a weight off his shoulders.

The minutes from when Luke’s last words were spoken to when Jack and Quinn arrived home passed both silently and quickly. The two walked into her room, bags of food from her favorite restaurant in hand and another bag of random treats and desserts in the other. They smiled at her and took their seats on her bed, Quinn on her right side and Jack in front of Luke on her left.

She eyed them as they started to take things out left and right, handing everyone their own food. Quinn took the initiative to turn the TV on and open the Disney+ App, finding Tangled and hitting play. Her eyes watered at their actions, unable to keep the tears in ultimately.

The three froze and exchanged glances with one another before looking at her. Their faces softened and Quinn pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears to soak the fabric on his shoulder. Jack paused the movie and Luke finished handing out the food.

Once she calmed down again, she murmured a ‘thank you’ before reaching for her food.

“Ah ah ah, food after you tell us what’s wrong,” Jack spoke, tugging her food out of her hands.

She pouted at him and played with her fingers before speaking, “He broke up with me.”

“Daniel?” “He what?” “Fucking hell.”

Their reactions startled her, but she still reached for her food, “I did my part.”

Jack only nodded and gave it over to her, all of them watching as she opened it slowly and started eating. The boys flanked at each other again but then decided to finally leave it alone and settle back into her bed, watching the movie play.

As the movie went on, everyone finished their food, Jack and Luke both getting up to go throw the trash away. Quinn and y/n continued to watch as Flynn died and Mother Gothel fell out of the window. As Flynn and Rapunzle exchanged what they both thought would be their last word’s to each other, y/n leaned further into Quinn and looked up at him, “Quinny?”

He looked down at her with a soft smile, “Yeah, baby bear?”

“Will I ever find my Flynn Rider?”

It seemed like a stupid question to ask, sure. But she was 17 and going through her first heartbreak (real heartbreak). All she wanted as her own prince to make her feel wanted and loved, was that too much to ask anymore?

Quinn felt his heart break at the question. He knew it was inevitable that she would experience something like this, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to protect her from it happening. He just held her tighter and kissed her head, “You will, y/n/n. You will.”

𝗛𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

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ineffable-suffering · 3 months

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„It‘s always too late“ (ft. Crowley‘s watch)

I‘m currently on vacation in Greece and, naturally, re-reading Good Omens (the book) for the nth time. And you know what keeps bugging me and has been nagging at my brain ever since S2 dropped?

Crowley‘s line, right after he threatens Jim at the bookshop („If anything happens to Aziraphale because of this–“) which he follows up by saying: „It doesn’t matter. It‘s always too late.“

I cannot tell you just how much this silly line has been festering at some back end corner of my brain. Because what do you mean, „it‘s always too late?“ Too late for what? Has it ever been to late before? To change an outcome? Seemingly not, since they stopped the literal end of the World barely a few years ago. That‘s the most „too late“ definition there is, and they still turned it around so that it wasn‘t. Too late, that is.

So why say this? With such defeat, as well?

I don‘t remember if it‘s series canon, however, in the book, we get this little foot note about Crowley‘s watch:

„This watch gave the time in twenty world capitals and in a capital city in Another Place, where it was always one time, and that was Too Late.“

Knowing Neil, this specific wording resurfacing in S2 cannot be a coincidence. „It was custom made for Crowley“ – by who? I‘d wager that human watch makers certainly couldn’t make a watch that shows a time such as „Too Late“ in „Another Place“.

We know and see Crowley‘s watch in S1.

I think the prop department left out the „Too Late“ bit of it, which is understandable. But it‘s book canon anyway and what matters more to me here, is that Crowley definitely wears a different watch in S2.

It‘s very nicely and accurately framed in many shots as well, including the promotion pictures. Yet another thing I‘d wager to not be a coincidence. But that‘s merely speculation, of course. A lot of props and a lot of Crowley‘s appearance changed since S1 and changes even throughout S2.

Whether or not this has any deeper meaning or is simply a red herring, is for Neil and the prop department only to know.

All I‘m saying is: The mysterious custom-made, possibly non-human-made watch that said it was always „Too Late“ is gone or at least changed with some focus shifted onto it, and yet: It‘s still always too late, according to Crowley.

Is it a metaphore? For Crowley‘s Fall and it always having been „Too Late“ for him in „Another Place“ (e.g. Heaven)?

Or is it a hint? To the Second Coming? To Armageddon not having been the only end of the World? To the unofficial picture where the whole world seems to have been destroyed and the last thing standing is the bookshop? To that version of world, where it seems to be too late after all?

Or is it just a watch? And just a line? And I should just put my book down and go for another swim in the ocean in case this is just a sun-induced conspiracy theory?

Let me know your thoughts, I‘m sure this has been wondered about before!

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #neil gaiman #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #good omens 2 #crowley‘s watch #it‘s always too late

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viktoriaashleyyx · 3 months

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Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

#pro tamlin #anti rhysand #anti feyre #tamlin #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #tw sa #tw dv #anti feylin #leave tamlin alone #sjmaas

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guiltyasdave · 3 months

Text

say you'll remember me

chapter 5 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: The aftermath. (Because I am dramatic)

word count: 1.9k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, slut shaming, pure angst I'M SORRY

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

i'm sorry that this took so long and also about the... contents of this. it's the last official chapter, but there will be an epilogue. if this is stressing you out and you'd feel more comfortable knowing if there will be a happy ending, please feel free to shoot me a dm <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

“Where’s my what?”

David steps through the open bedroom door, pulling a washed out t-shirt over his head, tousling his hair even further than it was before. He’s not wearing pants, only the briefs that he so eagerly got out of less than an hour ago. He freezes at the scene in front of him.

You’re painfully aware of your own appearance, painfully aware of how obvious it is what you’re doing here. There’s zero chance of talking your way out of this one.

Your father is still standing in the doorway, jaw clenched impossibly tight, his gaze flickering between the two of you. You steal a glance at David, finding his eyes already on you. Regret is swimming in them, threatening to drown you both, and you know that he’s come to the same conclusion. You’re done for.

“What the fuck is this?”

It’s clipped, the quiet and cold tone that you’ve had a lifetime to get used to, but it’s tinged in anger, with an intensity that you’ve never heard before. The step you take back comes instinctively, following the desperate urge to get closer to the man behind you, the man who makes you feel safe, even now. A scowl forms on your father’s face as he clocks the movement.

“Jim–” David tries, arm halfway raised like he’s reaching out. To you or to your father, you’re not sure.

“I was in the area, thought I’d drop by, even though you weren’t answering your phone.” His chuckle is devoid of humor, his eyes flashing darkly. “Guess you were busy.”

“Dad, please…” You’re not sure what you even want to ask for. For him to hear you out, to understand?

He shakes his head, looking you up and down, disdain written clear over his face.

“Put some clothes on, Jesus Christ. I’m taking you home.”

You look at David again, desperate for just a hint of comfort, no matter how small. The promise that, somehow, everything will be fine. He gives you a curt nod towards the bedroom, no discernible emotion in his expression.

You’re uncomfortably aware of the expanse of your bare legs under his shirt as you walk back into the room, the place that has become your sanctuary over the past weeks.

“Jim, listen,” you hear David’s voice through the open door. “We just– we were talking if maybe I could get her an internship at the DIA, and it– it just happened. It was a one time thing, I swear. And a mistake. I–I’m so sorry.”

Lies. They seem to fall from his lips so easily, like a story that he had prepared for a long time. Maybe he did.

“I really don’t give a shit, Dave.”

You hear David sigh, can see his accompanying expression in your mind. The pursed lips, the firm jaw.

“I guess that’s fair.”

You don’t want to leave, don’t want the tense car ride, don’t want to be alone in your room and replay this over and over. You’re already circling through scenarios how this could have gone differently.

Why did you have to go open the door? Why didn’t you let David get it? Why did none of you notice his phone ringing? Why hadn’t you been more careful?

When you re-emerge from the room, neither of them has moved. Your father’s expression is unreadable, a stoic kind of coldness that doesn’t betray any feelings he might have.

You can’t help looking at David’s face when you pass him, searching for comfort, reassurance, anything. Some sign that he didn’t mean it when he said you and him had been a mistake. But he’s staring at the floor, his face like a mask.

You bite your lip, avoiding your father’s gaze when you step past him and down the stairwell. He’s gonna have more to say about this, you know it.

He’s fulfilling your expectation after a few minutes of silence, the tension in the car so thick that it feels like you’re getting crushed by the sheer weight of it.

“Always taking the easy route, aren’t you?! Rather just spread your legs than to put in some actual work, fucking hell…”

Your lips fall open at his words, a disbelieving huff escaping you.

“Dad, that’s not–”

“That’s exactly what it is,” he cuts you off, his grip tight on the steering wheel, venom spitting from his mouth. “I didn’t think I raised you to be a whore.”

You snap your mouth shut, staring straight ahead, tears brimming in your eyes. It had never even crossed your mind, the thought that you’d get anything like a job out of your… situation with David. It was never your motivation. You just– wanted him. Wanted him to like you.

It hurts, hurts more than you want to admit to yourself, to have your own father jump to that conclusion so quickly. To know that he has no issues seeing you like that, thinking of you like that.

“You embarrassed me,” he continues, even angrier than before. “Throwing yourself at the first man you see.”

Heat is rising in your cheeks. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a whispered sound, shame ringing with the words. You don’t want to apologize, but it comes like an instinct, the only acceptable option that you have.

“You’re gonna stay home for the next two weeks, until your break is over. You’re gonna study and maybe, if you show me that it’s not a complete waste of money, I’ll keep paying for that goddamn school.”

Your head whips around to stare at his stony profile beside you. He’s grounding you?!

“Dad, I’m not a child!”

He shrugs, pulling up to the house.

“Well, since you’re acting as irresponsible as a child, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

He doesn’t stop you when you throw open the car door, fumbling with the house keys before you get the door open and stomp up to your room. Angry tears are blurring your vision, blood pounding loudly in your ears.

You’re not thinking straight, thumbs flying over your phone screen, a message about how this doesn’t mean anything, how you’ll figure this out, how much you still want him, flowing from your fingertips. David doesn’t respond.

You cry yourself to sleep that night, tossing and turning in your sheets, your dreams full of vague shapes and scenarios, replaying the day’s events over and over.

Your father checks on you the next morning, pointedly asking about your plans for the day, seemingly content with your mumbled, spiritless responses about revising coursework and working on applications for an internship.

“You can do better than the DIA, you realize that, right? Hardly any money to make there.”

You nod silently, forcing down the ragefit about how you don’t give a shit about the DIA, or about any job for that matter, that it never fucking was about that.

You’ve never had a particularly strong intention to actually follow your father’s orders and not leave the house, but it’s out of the window when your phone finally vibrates with a message from David, asking if it’s possible for you to meet him.

You’re out the door in a heartbeat, paying no mind to the security cameras recording you, to the consequences of this. It’s like you’re on autopilot, the stress of the past 24 hours erasing all rational thoughts from your mind.

David meets you at the door, a sight so painfully familiar and yet entirely new, because of the look on his face. Devoid of emotion, a mask of the man that you know, but not this version of him. He pulls you into an embrace, one that you desperately want to melt into, but his arms are stiff around you, coldness seeping into your bones despite the warmth of his body. You suppress a shiver when he doesn’t even lead you further into the apartment. You’re standing in the hallway, the short distance between you suddenly unbridgeable. From the corner of your eye, you notice his bedroom door. Firmly closed, once more.

“Sweetheart–” he begins, rubbing his neck with one hand. A nervous gesture, so vastly different from the self-assured, always in control David that you’re so intimately familiar with.

The rational part of you knows what this means, can almost predict the words that he’s gonna say next. It gives you a strange sense of déjà vu, reminds you of another time when you were in this apartment, so sure that he didn’t want you, that he was going to end this thing with you.

You were mistaken back then. You know that you’re not mistaken now, because the David in front of you is nothing like the one from back then. It’s glaringly obvious, the difference between them, the cold determination that you see in his eyes only right now.

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? F–for real this time?”

Your voice barely wavers, your eyes don’t stray from his face. It’s like you’re walking through a dream, through a living nightmare, eerily aware of what’s gonna happen next but with no way to do anything about it.

Hurt flashes in his eyes, gritting his teeth, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He only manages a silent nod.

You feel your face crumbling, hot tears finally springing to your eyes. Your throat grows tight.

“Please… please don’t. Please.” You have to beg, have to at least try.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, running a hand over his face. “I never should have– it was a mistake. You know that, right?”

You shake your head, eyes wide and silently pleading with him, unable to form words. He sighs, pain clear on his features as he cups your cheek.

“Baby, I– I wish things were different, but– you’re so young. You’ve still got your whole life– you don’t need me. I never should have allowed this. I’m sorry that I did.”

You choke out his name, the one that, unbeknownst to you, no one else uses. That he’ll never let anyone else use again.

“But I want you,” you whisper, stepping closer, pressing your face into the familiar crook of his neck, breathing in the comfort that the scent of him brings. He chuckles weakly, a humorless sound, gently moving out of your embrace, his large hands finding your shoulders instead, prompting you to look at him.

“You shouldn’t. I’m not– I’m not worth it. I won’t let you fuck up your life over this.”

Acceptance and denial are battling in your heart, the knowledge that you kind of always had but buried away deep down finally resurfacing. He isn’t yours to lose and he never was.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, tears silently streaming down your face. You need to ask, need to know if this ever meant as much to him as it did to you. “Will you miss me at all?” Will you even remember me?

His lips tilt up in a sad smile, and you could swear that his eyes are glassy as he gently presses his mouth against your forehead one last time.

“Always, sweetheart.”

.........................................please remember that i love you

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories #janas fics #fic: wildest dreams

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melbatron5000 · 5 months

Text

Murder Board 2.0

Updated 9/18/24

Since I've figure a few things out, I need to re-do my Murder Board. New answers, new questions.

What I think I know:

Hints given out by NG are suspect at best. (I cannot blame him or anyone else on the cast or crew -- they spent A LOT of time and energy building this very meticulous puzzle game for us -- why would ANY of them give ANY of it away? That would ruin all the fun!)

Lots of the discontinuity of Season 2 can be explained by POV switches between characters. See here and here for more. I think the title/location cards are also probably POV Clues, that needs a closer look.

Crowley gave something to Aziraphale in his mouth when they kissed. It's the fly. Now, what else was in the fly besides Gabriel's memory? RECORDS. Incriminating records that are why the Metatron let Beelzebub and Gabriel go, but nailed Aziraphale. The Metatron knows Gabriel has those records, he doesn't know they got passed to Aziraphale.

Saraqael and Crowley and by proxy, Aziraphale are all working together. See here and here for more. That explains A. the tiny miracle blowing up into a 25 Lazarii miracle. It didn't. They had to cover for something else that did. B. Saraqael showing the archangels the book shop in 2019 in the spy hole. C. Crowley's spy turtle neck and where he went during Aziraphale's Job flashback. D. Why Saraqael helps him see the trial in Heaven. (Oh! Muriel's now in on it, too!)

Crowley's memory is fine, it's a red herring. It might mean something else, though. I think he is dissing Furfur, he is denying knowing Saraqael even after she gives him a reason to recognize her to hide that they are working together. He tells Jim he doesn't remember why they invented gravity, but that whole scene is from Aziraphale's perspective, so the conversation likely didn't actually go just like that.

Shax is on a mission besides Gabriel -- she's looking for whatever Aziraphale and Crowley are hiding. Gabriel is a side-mission.

The hand-washing comment from Crowley in the Resurrectionists minisode -- he tells DaVinci about helicopters in Good Omens the novel. It's just a thing he can do.

What is up with Maggie? Maggie's freaking Jesus 2.0. She's what Shax is looking for, and who Crowley, Aziraphale, and Saraqael are hiding. Also, where is God? God is busy being Maggie, that's where. That's why Crowley says "Oh God" before his speech in the final fifteen. He's bringing up what they're hiding, reminding Aziraphale that someone has to stay and keep an eye on Maggie. That's why he can't go. Now, how the FUCK did Jesus 2.0 wind up owning a record store she inherited from her family NEXT TO AN ANGEL?? (Ah, shit, now I'm doubting this one. Now I suspect it's Nina, and Maggie is Mary MAGdeline. Same questions still apply.)

SECRET SONGS??? Why are the songs secret?? I'm losing my mind, what is happening?? I think this is a message that A. Aziraphale and Crowley are okay, and B. We will absolutely be getting part 3 of 1941.

I still think the scenes might be out of order. Is it as simple as watching them in chronological order? Could be.

The Metatron is a naked man. i.e. he was originally HUMAN.

Aziraphale and Crowley are talking in subtext A LOT. Aziraphale's tells are easier to spot than Crowley's. He raises his eyebrows and does vocal bunny rabbit ears, says "um," and "ah." "Our Gabriel miracle," "The establishment in question," "Certainly on to something," "Haven't yet cracked the case." Crowley's tell seems to be being effusive. "Frozen peas," "You wouldn't be interested in love?" "Well, today is your lucky day!" "How do you know I didn't do it?"

We are missing the scenes that should mirror the Resurrectionists minisode. What we do have instead of mirrors to that are Crowley telling the demons they are out of order. He can tell time has been messed with.

There are two Crowleys. I think the head in the book shop is his way of keeping in touch while his twin is off doing things, and the red eyes are him, too. Now, why?? What do they need 2 Crowleys for?

What still needs answering:

The clocks jumping time. And why are the extras moving in double-time when we first arrive to Whickber street?

The weird hand in the 1941 photo.

Aziraphale's chair position being moved still doesn't make sense. Unless Crowley was talking to himself??

The extras behaving strangely.

Crowley's car being in the wrong spot on the road after Shax threatens him.

Weird sounds -- Aziraphale turns to look at a crashing sound when he returns from Edinburgh, to look at a car horn, the very loud clock in the final fifteen BUT ALSO when Jim says he will go out to the demons, nightingale singing when Crowley leaves in the FF.

I'm not sure that POV switches explain Crowley's sunglasses going from silver to black.

I don't know why Aziraphale went to Edinburgh, or why he stopped at the graveyard where Gabriel's statue is, or why he looked like he realized something important while he was there.

Why does Michael do the "nothing's in the box" thing with the matchbox? It's a petty specific action. Someone pointed out that Michael's nails look chewed and terrible, are we meant to stare at the matchbox while something else goes unnoticed? Well, duh. But what?

We most certainly did not get the whole scene where the Metatron is talking to Aziraphale. What else was said?

What did Crowley do during his ALL-NIGHT JAUNT in Heaven? Did he sneak around and steal something? Did he uncover something? Did they hurt him? I think he stole something.

What did Aziraphale do with his briefcase that he took to Edinburgh? We see it in the book shop from his POV, and Edinburgh is seen from Crowley's POV, so they both know it exists. And then it's gone.

Why does Gabriel prophecy with God's voice? IS it God's voice? It's a woman, is it Frances McDormand? It's hard to hear. When he remembers the beginning, I think it's God's voice. When he prophecies, it may be someone else. Frances McDormand has no credit in that episode.

Why the heck did Maggie and Nina go talk to Crowley while the Metatron was talking to Aziraphale? What they had to say wasn't important enough to leave Nina's shop during a rush, and I definitely don't think they derailed Crowley from what he needed to say to Aziraphale, though it might look at first as if they did. So what was that about? Were they trying to speak in husband-code to warn him about the Metatron?

When Shax stops Aziraphale for a ride, he says, "Oh, I really need to get to --" and then is cut off. He really needs to get to where? It's an easy assumption to think he means the book shop, or London. But is that all he means? Or was he on his way somewhere else? And if it was just the book shop, what does he mean he's late? Late for what?

When Crowley leaves Heaven, he tells Saraqael and Muriel to come, too. But in the elevator, Michael and Uriel are there! When the fuck did they show up??

Why does Beelzebub tell Shax to attack the bookstore? Aren't they worried about Gabriel being harmed? And they know Hell is understaffed. Maybe that's why they command it? Because they know Shax won't be able to get many demons?

What about the Masons? It's such a specific thing for the pub owner to bring up, what is the meaning of it? And Maggie has a Mason symbol on her necklace. Did the Masons carve the statue of Gabriel? When did they see him?

The only narration we hear in the entire season is Aziraphale in the Resurrectionist flashback. I believe this is to throw us off the POV character switches all season. But still, why do we only hear him narrate 1 flashback? I think he's reading the diary to himself in the present day. That would explain the end, "And that was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time." He JUST heard the story of the jukebox from Maggie. And Gabriel appearing at the pub -- same city that statue is in. Of course he thought of something important from that diary entry! Now, what did he notice?

Is the Book of Life a real threat? We hear two stories about it, that it's real and that its ability to erase beings was something to scare the cherubs with, this is inconclusive. Crowley gets nervous after Beelzebub talks to him, but I think he's pissed that Heaven and Hell have taken an interest in them again, especially since they're trying to hide Nina!Jesus.

So many promo posters show Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jimbriel together, or symbols of them. Three feathers: two white, one black. Tea cup, cocoa mug, wine glass. The three of them. Not with Beelzebub, not with Muriel, the three of them. And all three of them have been Jesus-coded in some small way. No one else. Those three. What. Why. Are they the sacrifice required to bring about the new world? Why not Beez, then?

The whole collection of Maggie's album's from the Amazon X-ray are great, big CLUES.

A post that I didn't reblog pointed out that the record Aziraphale is listening to when Garbriel shows up is neither Shostakovich nor 21 minutes long. That seems important, but I'm not sure how. (The record is opposite when Crowley gives Aziraphale the fly containing records -- the actual symphony is, according to the original blog, one written by a rebel in contempt of his government. Do the records have to do with the rebellion and fall?)

What the heck does Furfur mean by "little monkey in the waistcoat?" How does that sound like Crowley?

Why does Furfur change the subject when Aziraphale asks where Gabriel and Beelzebub would like to go?

Why does Mrs. H say "for God's sake" two times in a row? No one says that on this show without a meaning.

Shax notices Crowley going to Heaven and makes an epiphany face.

Why is the end credit music for the ball French cafe music? French must be important. And the end credit music for The Hitchhiker is old timey and scratchy, then skips and becomes the same song in a newer, clearer style. Because they repeat the bullet catch trick in the modern day, perhaps?

I thought I heard that Crowley and Aziraphale are in the fly in the opening sequence, but nope. So why are they in a cave?

Why are there multiple elevators and multiple mountains in the opening sequence??? What the hell does that mean?? And multiple Edens?? All right, what's up??

I count at least two times Aziraphale glances right at the camera, probably more. Who is he looking at? Us? Is he looking at Crowley?Why??

When Aziraphale arrives back from Edinburgh, he asks how "everything is with -- mm." Crowley says "he was sleeping, I heard him singing." I don't think they mean Gabriel. At the cafe, Crowley says when Gabriel smites you, you've been smitten. Aziraphale says he isn't "you know who any longer." Again, I don't think he means Gabriel. Who are they hiding?

Repeating themes: (I am just realizing that these aren't just themes, they are all Clues!)

Beverages of all kinds -- tea for Aziraphale, wine or whiskey for Crowley, cocoa for Jim. Oh, and LAUDANUM. And coffee!

Time -- lots of clocks/mentions of time. Everyone notices the ticking clock during the Final Fifteen, but it's ticking loud when the demons attack the ball, too. Also, why is the first scene of Whickber street shown at high-speed? Is time sped up? Or something else?

Love/partnership/togetherness being stronger than separateness

Memories/forgetting/remembering

Payment -- money comes up in both the Resurrectionists minisode and the Flesh Eating Nazi Zombies minisode, but no one pays for anything in present. There is bartering, but no money. Both times money is brought up, it's Crowley using Aziraphale's money, and both times, it's to buy a life. It's funny, but I feel like there's a point to it.

Rising from the dead -- Job's kids (even though they weren't actually dead), bodies used for science, Nazi zombies, the Second Coming. I think this is all just hinting around Jesus -- sure, hinting around Jesus, who we were expecting to show up in Season 3, but she's already here. The hints indicate that she is already on Earth, not going to show up next season.

Unreliable narrators. Because we are seeing the whole show from various characters' points of view. Because of that, we can only see what they know, expect, believe, or understand, but also what they want us to see. We need to take the whole second season with a grain of salt.

Death in general -- but 8a., I'm a dirty pagan, why didn't I make this connection sooner, death always leads to REBIRTH, change, something totally new and 8b. there are tarot cards in the magic shop, and even if you're not a dirty pagan, the Death tarot card means transition, something must die before a new thing can be born. Hmm.

Morality and what is "good" and what is right

Recognition and identity and hiding one's identity. Ah! Probably at least partly because Maggie someone? is Jesus. How would you recognize them? (I think it's Nina now.)

Licenses, permits, permissions, rules, proof, evidence, what's allowed. All of the minisodes mention this, and it all gets mentioned again over and over. Because Heaven and Hell do have rules they have to follow. Which drives home my theory that Gabriel stole some very incriminating records from Heaven when he left, Crowley got hold of them and gave them to Aziraphale during the kiss, and now Aziraphale is going to nail them.

Colors. Lots of colors!! Job's kids are dressed in the colors of Nina, Maggie, and Aziraphale's shops. Jesus on the Resurrectionist Pub sign is in blue and red, blue and red crop up a lot in extra's clothing, as do yellow and red, Crowley colors. The Ladies of Camelot are in red and blue. Aziraphale says Earth will be a blue-green planet, Nina's shop is blue-green.

Horses. Horse statue, horse wine label, people saying "dark horse." The four horsemen again? I feel like they already had their ride, so what the hell? I think it's because season 2 is an echo of season 1, I THINK -- I have to check -- that horses appear or get mentioned when the horsemen have corresponding scenes in season 1.

Numbers. A lot of numbers get said. Does it matter, or am I overthinking?

Repeating words and phrases:

Technically

Properly

Isn't it just?

Too late

Funny old world

Not as such

Made for each other

EVERYWHERE

Obviously

Two shakes of a lamb's tail

Dark horse

What are you/am I? As opposed to WHO. Aziraphale asks in the Land of Uz, and Crowley asks Gabriel.

Are you sure? Quite sure.

The Marvelous Mr. Fell is described as marvelous in his mysterosity, Shax says the demons have dangerosity.

Mrs. H in 1941 says "for God's sake" twice in quick succession.

Schtum

Every day

Hints:

Powell and Pressburg films

The Crow Road

Catch 22

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, Terry Pratchett in general

Jane Austin

Book Good Omens

Season 1 Good Omens

The titles of episodes, minisodes, places, etc. 7a. The Arrival: a book and a movie, though the book seems far more relevant. And lovely. The Clue: a movie. Companion to Owls: a line from a Bible story. I Know Where I'm Going: a movie. The Resurrectionists: two novels, each called The Resurrectionist, singular. Both look unhinged. The Hitchhiker: a Twilight Zone episode. Nazi Zombie Flesheaters: Literally no other reference. ?? Nazi Zombies do appear in a LOT of movies, comics, and video games, usually as a dark joke. The Ball: a video game. Irrelevant? It's a puzzle-based game, so maybe not. Every Day: a song AND a movie. Some themes repeat here: Puzzle games, being re-directed from one's path to find true love, death and being brought back to life in a gruesome and unpleasant way.

Objects that get a close-up/centering:

Starmaker's nebula book -- Nebula 231,080

Shax's compact mirror

Maggie's note

Shostakovich record

Tomatoes

The box

The Bentley

Eccles cakes

The bell

Head statue

The book Jim drops

Jukebox

Gabgriel's statue

Laudanum bottle

Phones in Edinburgh episode

"Very closed" sign

Broken whiskey bottles in 1941

Hourglass in Hell

Furfur's camera

Bullet catch in the magic shop

Instruction booklet for bullet catch gets 3 close ups -- because the bullet catch trick is that important, or because it happens 3 times? Both, I think.

Puppets

Dancers' silhouettes

Mr. Fell sign

The actual bullet

Angelic beings book

Photo evidence

Shax's shoes

"Surrender the angle" brick

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens fan theory #ineffable mystery #good omens minisodes #good omens 1941 #good omens resurrectionists #good omens Job

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somehow-still-here-7 · 1 year

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I am a very loud and expressive person and so when I was watching season two last night with my good friend, whenever I noticed something or thought of something I scribbled it down quickly to get it out of my system and to not ruin the experience for my good friend.

Here are the notes haha

In the scene where Aziraphale is retrieving the box from his front door you can actually see the Gabriel fly crawl inside the box. I hadn’t noticed it before.

When Crowley is trying to get Jim/Gabriel to remember stuff the second time round you hear his distinctive miracle casting sound go off before Gabriel is able to spit out the line from Job. Just thought it was interesting.

With some extra thought about the whole thing I came to realise why ineffable bureaucracy made so much sense. I feel as though some feel it was very out of the blue but it really wasn’t there were hints from the beginning.

For example: Why was Beelzebub so hung up on trying to find Gabriel in the first place? Because they were worried about him. If the two hadn’t found love together Beelzebub wouldn’t be so hell bent on finding him. It wouldn’t concern them at all whether an Angel was missing from Heaven. Just thought it was kinda neat the little inconsistently.

Also I was laughing over the fact that the Gabriel fly was just around watching Jim/his body just do the weirdest shit. Do you reckon he was disgusted watching his body drink hot chocolate for the first time?

What would’ve happened if Jim had actually used the two book successfully as a fly swat and crushed the container? Would the memories have been destroyed? Or would they have just flown everywhere and looked like the set up in heaven with Gabriel’s file.

Also something neat the fact that Gabriel gladly accepted the hot chocolate from Aziraphle and then drank it should’ve been a very strong indicator to Aziraphle and Crowley that Gabriel was not faking anything.

Lastly I had a theory come to mind.

Now that Aziraphale (curses) is going to become the top dog in heaven will he get purple eyes?? Or at least weird eyes

I just thought cause no other Angel has different eyes accept for Gabriel

I would say it has something to do with being an archangel but we see Crowley (who is more or less confirmed Archangel) before his fall and his eyes are pretty normal by all standards.

Thank you for sticking around for my mush of thoughts

#good omens season two #goodomensseason2 #good omens #crowley #good ineffable omens #goodomens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #ineffable love #ineffable lovers #the archangel fucking gabriel #grand duke of hell beelzebub #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable beurocracy #good omens season two spoilers #micheal Sheen #david tennet #Gabriel the fly

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pinkypromisepascal · 2 months

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Handiwork - Jim Hopper x fem!reader

summary: Hopper shows up with a nasty cut so you lend a helping a hand and patch him up.

content: MDNI ofc, friends to lovers, subby!Hop, Hop has a hand kink, just minor descriptions of the cut, handjob, cum eating (oops), no physical description of reader except for pretty hands and jewelry

author's note: I had so many people look at this, thank you so much @strang3lov3 @umnitsa @endlessthxxghts @ievutebebe for looking at this and helping me work this out! Also I know the moodboard and title say fem!reader but technically this can be seen as gn!reader too, fem!reader's just my default mode.

word count: 2.6k

You got home from work four hours ago, ready to bask in the comfort of your small home in Hawkins. Despite the beautiful sunny weather outside, you find yourself more comfortable on your couch with a big cup of your favorite tea and a new book you've been dying to read.

You haven't moved an inch in the last hour, too engrossed in the book's plot. A sharp knock at your door pulls you out of your thoughts. You have no clue who it is, but you don't wanna be rude and ignore the person, so you get up with a tired sigh and open the door, only to find Jim Hopper looking down at you, pressing a bloodied tissue to his head.

"Hop, hi, I-... wow, what happened?"

Jim looks at you, his blue eyes kind and warm as always when he's with you. "Might have gotten into a little brawl at the bar," he admits sheepishly with a little eye roll.

You step aside and let him in. "For good reason at least?"

He shrugs, "Just had to handle a drunk guy and you know... some glass broke." You take a look at him, peeling the tissue away just enough to look at the cut going diagonally from his left eyebrow. "Thought you might come in handy, I'm out of gauze," he says dryly, "And I really don't need a hospital bill right now."

Fair enough, you think.

He wordlessly follows you to the bathroom and just lets his eyes follow you as you gather the supplies you'll need. He notices the ring on your index finger, the one he got you for your birthday a few months back. He'd never admit to it, but he's always been a little fascinated by your hands. And that fascination has gotten stronger over the last few months. He never really thought about hands that much, what they might say about people, but he's watched yours take care of El's scraped knee, watched them pet stray cats, seen those fingers wrap around a bottle of beer at his place. When he looks at his own hands, he just thinks of them as burly, callused.

But yours? They’re soft, gentle, even in the most mundane of tasks.

He snaps out of his thoughts when you clear your throat and turn around again, putting stuff on the vanity behind him. You cock your head and chuckle, "Need you to get a little more on my level, big guy." It takes a second for him to get the hint, but then he puts the bloodied tissue aside and sits down on the toilet lid, legs spread so you can step between them. You nod approvingly and can't hide a little smirk at the height difference between you two. Neither can he.

You grab a small towel and hold it under running water for a second before gently dabbing at the cut, cleaning the dried blood. He hums and closes his eyes. "Sorry," you mumble, your other hand tilting his head a little to get a better look at the cut. He feels the rings on his skin and suppresses a noise in his throat. The corner of his mouth twitches, "No, 's the cold that feels nice." "Enjoy the cold, only gets worse from here," you quip and snort when his eyes snap open. "Just some antiseptic and a few stitches, you can handle it. You're in good hands with me." "Hm, never doubted that," he retorts and closes his eyes again.

You pat the wound dry with another and then reach for the antiseptic, putting some of it onto a sterile gauze compress and then gently holding and dabbing it against the wound. He hums again and clears his throat in discomfort. "Ah come on, you've had worse," you tease softly. He smirks again and nudges your leg with his, "Shut up." "You shut up."

He feels a shiver down his spine when you carefully touch the area around the cut, checking for swelling or signs of infection. He slowly takes a deep breath, careful so you don't notice his tension. He feels the blood rushing through his body, his thoughts running a mile a minute. “You’re always so gentle with your hands,” he mutters softly, and you thank him bashfully. You mumble something, asking if he’s still good. When he opens his eyes, he catches your gaze, your eyes still warm despite the cold white light of your bathroom.

"Hope I'm not ruining your evening plans with this," he suddenly says. You put the compress aside and scoff, "Please, we both know I don't have plans. You're basically my highlight of the day." He cocks his eyebrow, immediately squinting as he feels the pain from the currently bad side of his face, "Oh really?" You smile proudly at him, "Mhm."

His heart skips a beat. If only you knew the effect you're having on him right now. He hasn't always felt for you like this, recently things have just been feeling different. He feels more at ease with himself. He's trying to allow himself a little more fun again, a little more peace. And in all the years he's known you, he can't remember when your presence hasn't brightened his day. You've always been the highlight of his day.

He smiles at you, and you realize your hand is still on his cheek like before. You pull away and take a deep breath, "Okay, so... stitching's gonna be a bitch." Hop just shrugs, "Someone told me I've had worse, so I think I can handle it." You laugh and nudge his belly with the back of your hand, "Can't be in too much pain if y'keep making bad jokes." The shiver runs from his spine between his legs. Jesus Christ.

He's drifting off again, gone in his thoughts about you, about your hands, your hands on him while you're so close to him, so focused on your task. He's sure you can hear how wild his heart is thumping in his chest, or feel the fluttering of his pulse in his neck where your hand is resting again, keeping his head in place and occasionally tilting it towards the light. And he hopes you don't look down. Anything but that. He's dying to move, to let his hands feel yours, feel them on his body, eagerly exploring him.

You say something, but he doesn't hear what, he's too far gone, imagining what it would be like to feel those heavenly hands wrapped around his co— A snap in front of his face brings him back yet again.

"Sorry, what?" You tut, "What's got you so distracted today? Did you hit your head during that fight? I was asking if you feel any pain." He suppresses a groan, then swallows and only replies with "No." Somehow the pain only makes him crazier for you. "Good, then you're all done," you say with a smile and start putting the supplies back.

Jim tries to shake off his thoughts without making his head throb too much and gets up, now leaning with his lower back against the vanity, right next to you. "How many times can I come here 'fore you start charging me?" You chuckle to yourself at first, and his heart skips a beat again. As you look at him, you only now notice his busted lip and grab the still damp towel to wipe the dried blood off, standing between his legs, then wipe your thumb along the spot. "You're free to show up here anytime, big guy," you smile, and he's sure you don't mean to sound so sultry. Maybe it's his mind playing tricks on him. Still, there's no more denying the near painful strain in his jeans now. He's hoping you don't feel it, almost embarrassed about it. Any move to adjust himself will just draw your attention to it.

"Much appreciated," he replies smugly as you look at him. Everything about you is just—

"You seem awfully tense, you okay? Feeling dizzy or something?" He cocks his head slightly and bites the inside of his cheek, crossing his arms in front of his big chest. "Little headache," he lies.

You smirk at him, "Hm, little headache or maybe something else bothering you?"

Before he can ask what you mean, he feels your hand press against the outline of his cock, making him draw in a breath.

Jackpot.

You can almost see his thoughts racing behind his gorgeous eyes. You close your hand around him, just a bit, and the corner of his mouth twitches. He's uncrossed his arms, his hands gripping the vanity's edge as he stares you down. Your eyebrow cocks up, challenging, daring him.

Your heart's beating in your throat, and you can feel his body heat. Part of you doesn't know if what you're doing is wrong, if you should talk about what's happening or just stop right here and never speak of it again. This is definitely crossing a line and you don't know how things will be after. Yet another part is screaming at you to keep going, and you think he feels the same.

"You need me to take a look at this, too?" You ask, your voice suddenly quiet, a new undertone to it that Hop hasn't heard from you yet. You're getting cocky. He risks a quick look down to where your hand, smooth against the raging boner that's been straining his pants for at least fifteen minutes now, the ring he gifted you staring back at him. Oh, fuck. He clasps his big hand over yours and looks into your eyes again. God, yes. There's a glimmer in your eyes that almost undoes him then and there. "Don't look at me like that," he mutters.

His mind is racing, blood rushing through his body. He bites back a groan when you move your hand beneath his, your fingertips reaching his belt buckle. "What's wrong with how I look at you?"

He ignores your question, you're just teasing him right now, enjoying how he's losing himself. "You're what's distracting me. You and your damn hands." "My hands?"

He nods slowly and swallows. His body is screaming for some friction, some relief to the craziness that is this situation. You move your hand again and he lets it go, never breaking eye contact. You unbuckle his belt, popping the button of his jeans open. “You don’t have to–,” he starts, but you tut him. "What is it about my hands?" You ask innocently as you shove your fingertips behind the waistband of his boxers, slowly dragging them and his pants down just enough to wrap your hand around him. He breathes out with a hum as you oh so slowly drag your hand along his length, eyes fluttering close.

"This okay?"

He huffs out a laugh, not daring to look at you right now, his grip on the vanity tightening, "Yeah. More'n okay." "Now tell me what's so interesting about my hands that it's got you rock hard like this, Hopper," you say, and he can hear the damn smile in your voice. Your thumb wipes over the tip before you drag your hand down again, picking up the pace just a bit. He shakes his head and opens his eyes again to look at you. Oh, you're enjoying this a lot. His jaw tightens as he tries to find the right words. "Shut up," he grunts. "Aw, come on," you insist with a cheeky smile, "Just wanna know what goes on in that dirty Chief of Police mind of yours. What more is there when just my hands got you like this, hm?" You tighten your grip for a moment, and his belly tightens, keeping him from making a sound.

You murmur sweet nothings, encouraging him to indulge in his thoughts. His gaze drops down to your hand stroking him. “Your rings, fuck–” He loses his words as you twist your wrist just the right way, his knuckles turning white as he’s gripping the edge with all his power. “Oh, do you want me to take them off? Are they uncomfor–?” “No,” he replies, hips slightly moving towards your touch, a low groan rumbling in his chest, “Keep’em on.” “You like how they feel?” You ask. He takes another deep breath, focusing on just letting your hand work him. “Like how they look on you. ‘Specially that one,” he rumbles and you know which one he’s talking about. You bite the inside of your lip, but the smile still spreads as you look at him. “Hm, wonder why,” you muse, picking up your speed, urging him closer to the edge. He clears his throat hastily, “Don’t play stupid, you fucking know why.”

You stroke him faster, noticing his breath faltering a bit. One of his arms slings around your waist, pulling you closer to him to lean his forehead against yours, cussing under his breath. His hooded gaze bores into yours with such a carnal need and longing, almost making you lose momentum. Your free hand drifts up his torso, toying with the top button of his shirt and slowly popping it open, letting your fingertips lightly dance over his warm skin. Jim’s hips buck into your hand again and his eyes flutter close, he’s drawing in a sharp breath. “Tease,” he growls, followed by a short, breathless laugh. You chuckle softly, “What’s the matter, big guy?” He looks at you again, a light sparkle in his eyes, “Matter’s that I– hm, won’t be able t’stop myself ‘f you keep this up.”

“Then don’t.”

He scans your face for any signs of hesitation and just finds that maddening smile of yours again. His legs and belly tighten. His other hand cups your face and smashes your lips together for a heated, bruising kiss. His mustache scratches against your skin and you whimper at feeling him nip your bottom lip. Your body freezes momentarily, and you’re only brought back to reality by Jim’s hand wrapping around yours, tightening your grip around him even more, and moving your hand with his. “Just like that,” he hushes into your mouth and with a few more quick strokes the tension in his body finally snaps. He’s kissing you again, muffling his broken moan, tongue swiping over your lip.

You keep your fingers wrapped just below his tip, changing the grip in small pulses. Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head, making him shudder through his release, his warmth coating your hand and shirt. Your other hand is resting above his racing heart, beating so fast you’re worried he’s gonna be dizzy. He slowly tears his lips from yours, his thumb wiping softly over your cheek.

His eyes flick down for a second and his face flushes. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. Usually have better manners than that.” You look down and snort, tugging at your shirt, “Ah, this old thing’s seen worse.“ You smile as you bring your glistening fingers up, “As for these…”

Jim watches breathlessly as your tongue darts out to lick over each digit, releasing each with a wet pop. “You‘re enjoying yourself a lot right now,“ he notes with a smirk, smoothly tucking himself away. An innocent shrug is the only answer he gets. He rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance and clicks his tongue.

You grab his face to pull him in for another kiss. He can taste himself on your lips, feeling the blood rush through his body again, his fingertips tingling with eagerness to touch you. His hands drop to the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping beneath, shoving the fabric up your torso. You raise your arms, letting him go all the way till he tosses your shirt aside, lips immediately locking together again. You chuckle.

“Not done with you yet,” he hums with a content sigh, “Time for payback.” “Careful with that, big guy, you’re still hurt.” He pecks your lips and smirks, “Thought we’d agreed I’ve had worse?”

I'm a slut for feedback so don't hold back and tell me how you liked this! Like, comment, reblog, slide in my asks, whatever you prefer! Thank you for reading, I hope you're eager for more.

#jim hopper x reader #pinkysfics #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper smut #stranger things fanfic

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starsandhughes · 1 year

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Penalty Box Series— Cruel Weather (Part Two)

requests: “I was wondering if you’d maybe do something about sissy getting seriously hurt (like a landing in the hospital kind of bad?) I honestly just really want to see all the boys protective and worried about her” and “Hi!!! Im absolutely in love with the penalty box series, and i was wondering if we could get a small blurb with sissy getting injured? ik you did a thing depicting how the boys would react, and im intrigued to see how that would play out:)”

requests based off this ask: how the boys would react to sissy getting hurt

warnings: major car accident, crying, surgery, broken bones, coma, mentions of throwing up, panic attacks, mentions of dying, arguing, mentions of getting drunk

word count: 3.6k

General Series Masterlist

part one — part two — part three — part four

—————

Trevor woke up a little after seven the next morning by Jamie shaking him awake and handing him an iced coffee.

“I bet your back feels great,” Jamie laughed at his best friend’s weird sleeping position.

Trevor stretched and they both winced at the amount of pops there were.

“Depending on how long she’s in here, I might get used to it,” Trevor said. “Thanks.”

Jamie nodded in response and yanked the chair from underneath Trevor’s legs to sit in.

“Mama Hughes is forcing everyone to eat breakfast. We got yelled at for the lack of food, by the way,” Jamie said, getting a small chuckle from Trevor.

“Of course we did.”

“So they all went out and I was permitted to bring you coffee and check on you, and they’ll bring us something back,” Jamie told him.

Trevor nodded in response, “Has anyone heard from Quinn?”

Jamie took a hold of Y/N’s hand at the mention of her best friend’s name, “His flight didn’t take off until close to six, so he should get here around nine, nine thirty. How’s she doing?”

“Same as last night,” Trevor sighed. “If a doctor came in, I slept through it.”

“I’m surprised you slept,” Jamie commented.

“I didn’t wanna disappoint her,” Trevor said low. Jamie understood what he meant. If Y/N heard that he was a wreck and didn’t take care of himself at all, she’d lecture him and feel tremendously guilty.

“How was everyone at the house?”

“It was quiet,” Jamie said. “Scarily quiet. I think everyone was worried they wouldn’t hear a phone ring if they spoke too loud. Jack talked to Quinn, but that was about it. Jim and Ellen slept in my room, and the rest of us all slept in the living room and semi watched the Hunger Games.”

“Alex’s idea?”

“Jack’s,” Jamie answered. “I think it was for Luke.”

“He’s been keeping all of us sane,” Trevor said.

“He’s channeling Sissy,” Jamie smiled.

“She’d kill you if she knew you called her that,” Trevor said in a fake warning tone.

“Good; maybe she’ll wake up,” Jamie joked, and luckily, got a real laugh out of Trevor.

“I needed that.”

“We both did.”

Both boys sat in a comfortable, well… as comfortable as they could be given the situation, silence as they watched the steady up and down movement of Y/N’s chest. Sure, she needed a machine’s assistance, but she was breathing.

The silence was only broken by everyone else filing into the room with food for the two boys. Cole and Alex had stolen some chairs they found in the hall for people to sit in, and made sure to grab an extra for when Quinn arrived.

A nurse came in and checked on all of her vital signs and medication outputs before telling the group that everything looks okay.

“Do you know when she’ll wake up?” Cole asked.

“It’s not an exact science, but she should be waking up within the next couple of days,” the nurse answered politely. They thanked her and returned to their silence when she left.

“Okay, somebody say something. I’m going to go insane,” Luke piped up.

“Remember our senior year?” Alex asked, a hint of mischief laced in his voice.

“Oh god,” Cole groaned into his hands.

“We were all a mess,” Trevor laughed.

“Sissy especially!” Jack called out.

“She was the biggest menace out of all of us,” Alex said.

“She’s still a menace,” Jamie pointed out.

“She was worse,” Trevor told him.

“Much worse,” Luke agreed.

“That was an interesting year to say the least,” Ellen said as she smiled at the boys reminiscing.

“Do I even wanna know?” Jamie asked.

“Give him a glimpse, Z,” Jack said.

“You know how at parties she’s a runner and we tend to tie her to one of us?”

“Yeah?”

“That started after I tripped and sprained my ankle while chasing her around a lake. The only reason I caught her and we made it back is because she puked in said lake and decided to get in it to, and I quote, ‘give herself a bath.’”

Jamie started laughing, genuinely laughing, and it was so contagious that the rest of the group did, too.

It was needed. They knew she was going to wake up soon, and they thought they all deserved a little laughter. It died out quickly, and the reminder of why they were all in a room together was too strong.

“We were supposed to facetime tonight,” Cole said suddenly.

“At eight,” Alex added.

“What movie was she gonna make you watch?” Jamie asked.

“She said it was a surprise,” Cole whispered. He was scared that if he talked any louder, his voice would crack. Him and Alex hadn’t seen her with the breathing tube, yet.

“She keeps a list on her phone of movies she wants to watch with you,” Trevor told him. “I have her phone, if you want to know what tonight’s plan was.”

Cole shook his head, “I’ll let her keep her surprise.”

The group swapped stories, which felt a little weird, but it was something to pass the time. Even in a coma, just stories about her brought smiles to everyone’s faces.

“I don’t even know where she ended up after the party before our draft day,” Jack laughed.

“Sissy and Z ended up sleeping on my floor,” a new voice said in the doorway. Quinn.

Trevor stood up immediately and the two boys, arguably the two most important people to Sissy, stared at each other. Quinn nodded, and somehow Trevor knew what he meant. He met him the middle and the two of them hugged each other the tightest they ever had before. If anyone were to understand just how hard this accident was hitting them, it was the other.

Jamie stood up as well and offered the chair closest to Y/N to him. He sat down and took his best friend’s hand in both of us, just as every other person who has sat in the chair before him.

“Do you want a moment alone?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah,” Quinn croaked. He was already a mess, but seeing her made it all come crashing down. He was no longer focusing on getting to Y/N. He was here. And it was so much worse than he imagined.

Everyone quietly shuffled out of the room and into the hall. Quinn gripped onto Y/N’s uninjured hand for dear life and allowed himself to cry. Only it wasn’t just crying that he was doing. He was full on sobbing with his head down on the thin mattress.

“I just saw you. Last week we were doing our yearly group workout before training camp and now you’re comatose because of how your depression medication mixed with the anesthesia. When Trevor called me to tell me-“

Quinn got too choked up to continue, but he needed to get it out. He didn’t even know if she could hear him; he just needed to say it.

“To tell me you slipped into a coma, I thought he was calling to tell me you died. I thought I was going to have to hear over the phone that you had died and I lost the most important person to me forever. I couldn’t sleep. I know you’ll scold me for that, but I couldn’t. I tried. I just kept waking up from nightmares about life without you.

“You’ve been in my life since I was seven years old. You’ve practically been my sister since day one. I’ve protected you from so much, and I couldn’t stop this from happening. You’ve been through so much, and now you have to go through this, and I won’t be here. Trevor and Jamie are great for you, and they’ll take good care of you, but it won’t be me. It physically can’t be and the thought of that makes me sick.”

Quinn jumped at what happened next. He wasn’t completely sure he didn’t imagine it, that’s how surprised he was.

“Sissy?” he whispered.

This time, Quinn was sure it happened. Y/N’s unconscious form lightly squeezed his hand. Quinn tried to not get his hopes up too high. He knows that movement doesn’t always mean the person will wake up soon, due to the fact that he heavily researched comas the second he was told, but it has to mean something.

“Trevor!” Quinn called out, making sure his voice didn’t portray that it was an emergency.

His tone wasn’t much help, because with the situation at hand, Trevor immediately assumed something was wrong. He ran into the room with his eyes wide and heart racing harder than ever.

“What’s wrong?! What happened?! I don’t hear anything and she looks fine. Well not fine-“

“She squeezed my hand!” Quinn cut him off.

Trevor’s eyes widened at the news. Everyone else overheard the announcement from the hall and came flooding in, as well. Jim told everyone he was getting a nurse to check if it meant something, or if it was a subconscious movement. After all, even years long coma patients can slightly move to external stimuli.

After a few quick trials, it was concluded that she wasn’t squeezing hands as a response, because she would do it at random times, and a few minutes later stopped doing it all together.

It was a false hope.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said. He was absolutely defeated.

“Don’t be sorry, Quinny,” Jack sighed. “She was squeezing your hand. She squeezed Trevor’s, and she squeezed Dr. Walsh’s hand. She’s in there. She’s just not awake yet.”

“When did you get so wise?” Quinn teased him.

“Z and I were talking about that this morning,” Jamie said.

“About me being wise?”

“Jimmy here said you were channeling Sissy,” Trevor smiled. “I told him she’d kill him if she knew he called her Sissy.”

“I am seeing a bit of Sissy in you lately,” Jim pointed out to his son.

Jack smiled to himself. It was the biggest compliment he could ever receive, in his opinion.

“It’s a twin thing,” Jack joked.

“Definitely a twin thing,” Luke played along.

— — —

It was getting harder than it was yesterday to sit in a room and listen to the heart monitor beep. The more they looked at her, the more frail and broken she looked. It was taking a toll on everyone and it was only day two.

Jim and Ellen went to get everyone lunch, and Jack decided that everyone needs to shower so they’ll take turns going back to Trevor, Jamie, and Sissy’s house. Jack thought Trevor would put up the biggest fight, but it was actually Quinn.

“I just got here!” Quinn argued.

“And you’re all worked up,” Jack tried to reason with his big brother. “You need to-“

“I need to be with her,” Quinn cut him off firmly. “You all saw her last night. You all got to race here the second you got the call while I was stuck in my house going out of fucking mind and you have the nerve to tell me that I need to leave her after only a few hours to take my third shower in the last twenty four hours?!”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just thought-“

“Stop trying to be Sissy!” Quinn yelled.

The energy in the room went still. Everyone was frozen in place. Jack’s eyes might have been wide, but they were full of hurt.

“You’re not Sissy. No one will ever come close to her. She’s lying in a hospital bed, you’re perfectly fine and bossing people around! Well guess what, Jack? I’m not fine! Taking a shower isn’t going to take away from the fact that the person I would take a bullet for is suffering and will be for a long time!”

“You think I’m fine?!” Jack fired back. “I haven’t been fine since Jamie called! I had to tell everyone! I had to call Alex, and Cole, and Luke, mom and dad, and you! I had to make sure Trevor didn’t go catatonic for the entire time Sissy is in the hospital! I had to make sure Luke didn’t fall apart at the seams when he passed by her and Trevor’s room! I’ve been taking care of everybody with no one to help me! I didn’t sleep last night because every time I closed my eyes, I saw her dying in my arms and you think I’m perfectly fine?!”

Jack’s knees started to give out, and if it wasn’t for Cole and Alex catching him and easing him into a chair, he would’ve collapsed on the floor.

“I know she’s your best friend, but she was mine first. I was the one there for her when you left. She kept telling you that she was fine. What she didn’t tell you was that she cried herself to sleep in my bed every night for weeks,” Jack said through tears. “She’s been in my life longer than anyone else’s here. So no, Quinn, I’m not fine. But she won’t be fine if she finds out that everyone important to her fell apart over her, so I’m doing what I can for her.”

“Let’s give the brothers a moment alone with her,” Jamie said. “We can all go to the house to… do things.”

Everyone remained silent as they left, leaving only the three Hughes boys alone. Quinn sighed and took a seat next to Jack.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Me, too,” Jack whispered.

“Did she really cry in your room for weeks?” Luke asked as he got up to sit in the third chair next to Jack. All Jack did was nod.

“She didn’t tell me,” Quinn said glumly. He felt like the worst brother in the world.

“She didn’t want to make you feel guilty,” Jack shrugged. “I’m just glad she moved with us when I went. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened to her.”

“She would’ve popped back up into our lives eventually,” Luke said.

“Yeah, but in what state?” Quinn asked.

“Hopefully better than this one,” Luke answered.

— — —

Tensions had died down once everyone came back and the brothers were handed food and politely demanded to eat by Ellen. Lunch was really dinner, because it was just after five.

Y/N remained the same. The nurses checked vitals, administered pain medication, and whatever else they did while they kicked everyone out the room to give them space to work. Everything they did, she still stayed unconscious, and left the group with the constant reassurance that the delayed emergence therapy was working and she should be waking up “within the next few days.”

After Jack and Quinn’s argument, Quinn made sure to make sure Jack wasn’t falling apart while trying to help everybody. He was prepared to fly to Jersey to be with him, so he felt that he should keep his word and be there for him now. If Jack noticed, he drew no attention to it.

The nursing staff kicked everyone out at eight when normal visitor hours ended as opposed to their late night stay the night before. No one wanted to go, but she was stable, so no one fought too hard. Everyone left to the parking lot, leaving only Trevor and Quinn in the room.

“You can stay-“ they both started speaking at the same time.

“She’s your best-“

“She’s your girlfriend,” Quinn cut Trevor off. “You’re her world. Trust me on that. Just call me first if anything happens, alright?”

“Alright,” Trevor smiled.

There wasn’t much for Trevor to do besides worry until he passed out at some ungodly hour, so he put on The Hunger Games to feel like Y/N was watching it with him. The doctors said that the closer she got to waking up, the more she could potentially be aware of external stimuli, and Trevor was too optimistic to not believe it. So, he put on her favorite movie series and hoped for the best.

Everything was fine the entire duration of the first movie. There was nothing but the sounds of the movie and Y/N’s steady heartbeat monitored on the machine.

Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Well passed one in the morning, the once steady beep was blaring at what felt like a mile a minute. Nurses and doctors came flooding in and immediately began shouting words that Trevor didn’t understand. What he did understand was that he was being ordered out, but that didn’t mean he was going to listen. Instead, he remained in the doorway, helplessly watching while the hospital staff tried to get Y/N back to her original state.

The excessive beeping stopped, and Trevor desperately wanted it to return because the sound that took its place made Trevor sick.

Y/N flatlined.

“No!” Trevor wailed and dropped to his knees.

A nurse immediately went towards him and started to push him out of the room in an attempt to calm him down as the doctor in the room pulled out the defibrillators.

“Sir, you’re having a panic attack,” the nurse told him calmly. “I need you to breathe.”

“My girlfriend just died!”

The nurse was right. Trevor was hyperventilating so much that he could no longer deny what was happening to him. His head felt heavy, his ears were ringing, and his chest felt like it was burning.

“I have to call Quinn!” he shouted out. He probably interrupted the nurse, but he was so out of it, he couldn’t tell. “I have to call Quinn, I have to! You have to let me call Quinn!”

“Okay, Trevor, is it?” She continued when he nodded. “We’ll call Quinn, but we need to focus on you right now before you get hurt.”

Trevor continued to fight with her and caused quite the scene in the hallway. The next thing he knew, he was being held down and given a shot. Then it went black.

— — —

Quinn threw up when he hung up the phone.

Sissy flatlined. She died. They barely got her stable in time. His world almost ended.

Alex was the one that found him and got him calmed down enough to talk to him, the only thing was that he didn’t. Quinn could already be a quiet guy, but he had gone silent. Alex couldn’t even get his attention.

“Quinn!” Alex shouted. He grabbed his face in hands and looked directly into his eyes. “Now is not the time to shut down! What happened?! What happened, Quinn?!”

All the commotion brought the attention of the others, but Jack and Luke were the only ones that stepped into the bathroom.

“Q?” Jack asked calmly. “Quinn, what’s wrong? What happened? Is Sissy okay?”

Quinn shook his head.

“Quinn, how much worse can she get from being in a coma?”

Nothing. Jack put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, “HOW MUCH WORSE CAN SHE GET FROM BEING IN A COMA?!”

Ellen pushed everyone out of the way, including her middle child, and stood close to Quinn.

“Give him room!” Ellen shouted, shooing Alex and Jack out of the small bathroom. “Let’s give him some time to breathe before we hound him!”

It took twenty three minutes for Quinn to get to a state of mind where he could actually speak coherent sentences he was in so much shock. Everyone had gone downstairs, Quinn included, and waited. Jack got him water and sat next to him while Ellen comforted him on his other side.

“Quinny, just answer me this— is Sissy okay?” Luke asked. “Just move your head. You don’t have to speak.”

Luke was shaking. Quinn took notice and his big brother mode kicked in.

“She’s stable,” he said.

Everyone let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. The fear of the worst had captivated every single one of them. What else would send Quinn into silence?

“Then… what- what uh… what happened?” Jamie asked awkwardly, terrified for his answer.

“She died,” Quinn said in monotone. He was still in shock.

“No! No, no, no! Quinn, you just said she’s stable!” Jack shouted at him.

“She is. They barely got to her in time,” Quinn said, a little more lively this time. “She died. But she’s stable now.”

Quinn caught his little brother’s eyes— they were clouded by fear. No, fear wasn’t the right word for it. He looked terrified.

Quinn was so focused on Jack that he failed to notice Jamie. In fact, everyone was so focused on Quinn that they failed to notice Jamie. Jamie, who felt like the weight of the sun just landed on his chest. Jamie, who didn’t hear anything past “she died.” Jamie, who was against the wall with his knees pressed to his chest and couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He hadn’t known Y/N for as long as the others, not even close, but he loves her. He loves her just as much as anybody else. She’s one of his best friends, and he doesn’t want to live in a world without her. He lives with her! In the very house they’re in right now. Where he just got the news. And suddenly, he’d rather be anywhere else. Jamie made a break for the door, but Jack caught him and turned him to face him.

“Jimmy! Hey, look at me,” Jack said urgently. His hands were on Jamie’s shoulders to keep him in place. “She’s alive. Sissy is alive. Y/N is alive.”

Jamie leaned backwards and slammed his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and wiped his hands down his face.

“Thank fuck,” he said through tears.

Jack put a comforting hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, “Yeah. Thank fuck.”

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book-place · 2 years

Text

Little Flinches

Warnings: mentions of abuse (not really described), implied violence, weapons (not used), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Damian Wayne x best friend reader, Batfamily x teen reader

Request: I was hoping to request a batfam x teen! Abused! Reader. Quik note; I understand if u are not comfortable with writing this since it contains mentions of abuse. You are a student at gotham high and you are also close friends with Damian Wayne. You and Damian have been friends for about 2-3 years now, and you both tell each other everything you even know about his family being vigilantes. His family has met you before, and they absolutely adore you. Yeah, remember when I told you that you told each other everything? Yeah, I lied. I lied because you've never told him about how your family abuses you at your home, but hehas always been skeptical about it. You always left tiny little "hints" without noticing. These "hints" usually consisted of flinching when he reached out to you or when he raised him voice- even if it wasn't directed to you. That's not to mention the fact that you never let him or anyone else hang out at your house, it was always his. One day, he found out when you came to school with a bruse, you had come with some before but you always claimed to have fallen, and although you where clumsy it becomes odd after coming to school with a bruse every day. Today he decided to put his theory to the test and ask tou what was wrong, as always tou answered with "nothing really, I just fell aga-", you didn't get to finish your sentence since you where quickly interrupted by Damian, "I know youre lying." He said in an angered voice, causing you to flinch, you just hoped he didn't notice, but ofc he did.After talking about it, you finally cracked and told Jim all about your family to your restless nights…Yeah, that's basically it, you can decide the ending (I just wanted do know how they'd all react, especially famian lol)

Request by: @waywardangelpieshark

*not my gif*

Summary: A change in your behavior makes Damian begin to question things

A/N: 1 down, 27 to go

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“We are having a movie night.” Damain announced, appearing next to you without a sound in a way he often did.

Slightly startled, you jumped before looking over at him, continuing to grab some books out of your locker as if nothing happened, “Tonight?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as smooth as possible.

He nodded his head, eyes narrowing at you a little bit, but deciding to let it slide, “Grayson keeps insisting that it should be tradition to have one every Friday night. So I decided to have you come instead of dealing with those imbeciles alone.”

“What about patrol?” You asked quietly so that people around you couldn’t hear.

He shrugged, “We will simply go later.”

You closed your locker and leaned against the door, quirking an eyebrow, “And what if I have plans?” You teased playfully.

A scoff escaped from his lips as he rolled his eyes, “You never have plans.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes in response, and as you opened up your mouth to rebuttal, the warning bell rang through the hall.

You flinched a little bit at the sudden sound, face turning red at Damian’s piercing stare, knowing that he had noticed.

“I’ll be there.” You quickly rushed out, not even looking at him as you turned on your heel and scurried down the hall to class.

His eyes narrowed at your retreating back.

-•-

You reached out and rang the doorbell, leaning back on your heels as you waited from someone to get the door.

After being friends with Damian for about three years, you eventually got used to his lavish home and lifestyle, even if it took about two years of friendship.

When you first met in class, you both hit it off right away, becoming thick as thieves and being attached to one another’s hips.

It was quickly discovered by your peers and teachers at school that the two of you were inseparable, knowing everything about one another, and practically being able to read each others minds.

But what they didn’t see- what you prayed Damian didn’t know-was that you were hiding a secret from him. A big secret.

You knew it wasn’t fair, you knew that he had told you him and his family's biggest secret, about their nightlife, and that yours wasn’t nearly as special, but you could just never bring yourself to open your mouth, get over yourself, and tell him.

Not even a moment later, the door was thrown open by a grinning Dick who was bouncing on his toes up and down with much more enthusiasm than you could have imagined.

“Hey! Hi! Hello! Welcome!” He greeted quickly, ushering you inside.

A small giggle left your lips as you entered, practically having to sprint to keep up after Dick as he sped through the house and to where you knew the movie room was.

When you got there, everyone was already spread out throughout the multiple pieces of furniture.

Jason was laying on his back, limbs going every which way, taking up an entire couch. Tim was sitting calmly in a bean bag chair, looking as if he were going to fall asleep at any given moment. And Damian sat, perched on another couch.

All of them perked up as you entered, greeting you with smiles.

You settled into the seat beside your best friend, falling into a conversation with everyone with ease.

“Next time, we have to do this at your house.” Tim joked, no longer looking as tired as he grinned over at you.

You smiled tightly, not responding.

The only reason you had been able to make it tonight was because your parents were out with some of their friends, most likely not to be returning until the early hours of the morning, so you had left without telling them. It was better that way.

You felt Damian’s eyes flicker over to you, and you could practically feel his eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion- even without looking at him.

But you paid him no mind as you changed the subject before he could open his mouth to question your sudden strange behavior, “So, what movie are we watching?”

That sparked an argument to form between all of the siblings, including Damian, which allowed you to sag back against the cushions in relief.

When they had finally come to a reluctant agreement amongst themselves and started the movie, a half hour had already passed and everyone had worn themselves out.

Doing what you always would, you gently snuggled against your best friend's side, being careful not to move the wrong way, and resting your head on his shoulder as he draped a blanket over both of your forms.

None of his siblings commented, used to it by now.

You had always been a physical touch person with those you were close to- hugs, holding hands, on the cheek kisses- anything so that they knew in a different way that you cared about them.

Damian, on the other hand, hated physical touch. The very thought used to repulse him.

But once he came to realize that it was how you would often express your feelings and that it’s what made you comfortable, he quickly grew used to- even welcoming- it.

Partway through the movie, a loud sound was released from the speakers, causing you to bolt in an upright position, practically floating down the rest of the couch, as far from him as possible.

His head turned to you in surprise, slightly wide eyes taking in your panting and shaking form.

It took you a second to realize where you were, that you were safe, that you could stop panicking and quivering like a leaf. And when you did, a new panic set in, because Damian had just witnessed you freak out over nothing.

You chuckled nervously, awkwardly sliding across the couch to get back to him. You were grateful that you both were behind all the others, so none of them even looked away from the screen at your reaction.

“Sorry,” You fake-giggled again, “That scared me.” It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t as extreme as the truth was.

He didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at you, so you hesitated before carefully resting your head against the soft fabric of his shirt once more.

You allowed your eyes to drift back to the screen, not actually comprehending any of it, and being extra careful to keep your flinches to a minimum whenever any loud noises would happen.

Damian kept silent the whole time, eyes trained on the side of your head as they searched. For what, you didn’t know.

When the credits finally began rolling everyone slowly stood up, stretching their limbs out, except for Tim, whose head was facing the ceiling with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open.

“Thanks for having me, guys.” You whispered, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy, and giggled quietly, “Let him have the night off of patrol at least.” You teased.

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully, “Never.” He grinned.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something moving towards you. Not being able to comprehend that it was just Dick going towards you for a hug, you flinched back, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Huh? What happened?” Tim’s voice rang out, successfully saving the day, because his older brother looked towards him just in time so that he didn’t see your reaction.

You were so relieved that you hadn’t even realized your best friend was the only one who didn’t look away from you.

With that, you slipped out of the room, Damian’s piercing stare not leaving you until you were out of sight.

-•-

A broken sigh left your lips as you stared down at your shoes you were shuffling across the pavement, a sense of dread settling into your stomach.

A dark bruise was shining over your right eye like a medal you were ashamed to have won. The other eye had circles under it of the same color.

Of course, the one day it got really bad was the one that you ran out of makeup to cover it up. And normally, you would just skip school or show up late in a situation like that, but your record couldn’t afford anymore of those. Because if you did either of those things again, the principal promised to call your parents in for a conference. That was the absolute last thing that could happen, you would not allow it.

Thankfully, Damian was nowhere in sight as you scurried down the halls to get to class as fast as you could.

What you didn’t realize was that he turned the corner just in time to see a flash of your face as you ducked into the classroom.

He frowned and turned on his heel, pulling his phone out of his pocket and walking in the opposite direction of where he was supposed to be going, dialing a number he knew by heart.

“Grayson,” He spoke, “I need a favor.”

-•-

“Miss. L/n,” Your teacher's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, causing your head to snap up in her direction.

She, nor anybody, had questioned the shiner you were sporting on your face, not caring enough to waste energy asking.

“You’re needed in the office.” She continued, already focusing her attention on other things.

Everyone’s eyes snapped in your direction as you stood and slung your backpack over you shoulder, scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to the staring, you were- that came with being best friends with a billionaire's son- but after what had happened last night, you were feeling more self conscious than normal.

As you trekked down the halls, thoughts of dread filled your minds. All the what-if’s of what they could possibly want you to leave in the middle of class for.

But as you opened the door, every scenario you had thought up flew far from your mind when you were greeted with the sight of Damian and his brothers all standing tensely around the room, your principal nowhere in sight.

You blinked once in surprise, “What-“

“Oh my god,” Dick bawled, rushing over to you with his hands up as if to take your face between them and magically take the pain away.

You flinched away from his hand, though, and he came to a skidding halt, eyes widening even more as tears filled them.

Jason pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning on, a deep frown etched onto his features, “You were right, Dami.”

If you hadn’t already been alarmed, this set off even more warning bells. Jason never called Damian by his real name, it was always some nickname.

Tim sighed, dropping his head into his hands from where he sat on a couch to the side of the room.

Your eyes finally locked with Damian’s, who wore an unreadable expression that you hadn’t seen since you had first met and he still wasn’t fully comfortable around you.

“What’s going on?” You asked nervously.

“Grayson called in a favor to get you out of class for a little while.” The black haired boy spoke emotionlessly, knowing very well that it wasn’t what you were talking about.

It was silent for a few minutes as all the boys watched you fidget, varying forms of sadness and anger in their expressions.

“What happened to your face, Y/n?” Damian finally spoke up sternly.

You let out a nervous laugh, answering automatically on habit, “Oh, you know me, I just walked into a wall again-“

He didn’t even let you finish your sentence as he cut you off, “I know you’re lying.” His mouth was set in a thin line as his eyes narrowed in your direction.

You faltered, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting you like a speed train. He knew, he knew, he knew, he knew-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your tear-filled eyes and broken whisper said otherwise.

Jason’s fist was clenched at his side as he looked anywhere but you, afraid of scaring you even more than you were. Dick was sobbing silently in the corner while Tim just looked upon you with sad eyes.

Damian was the worst though. His cold mask had slipped down to show how truly broken he looked, “I know you’re being hit.”

That was the moment everything became too much for you, and you fell to the ground with a sob, stuffing your face into your hands, unaware of the door being softly closed by Jason behind you.

Damian didn’t hesitate to drop down on his knees in front of you, being sure to keep some space in case the close proximity would accidentally trigger you somehow.

“I-I didn’t mean-“ You choked out, unable to fully speak between your sobs.

“Can I hug you?” He asked hesitantly, eyes searching your face for any signs that he said couldn’t.

All that you could do was give him a shaky nod, unable to form anymore words.

Not a single second was wasted before he scooped you up carefully into his arms, holding onto you as if you weren’t the only one who needed it, but as if he did too.

He began rubbing soothing circles in your back as he shushed you softly, using his other hand to run through your hair.

“Who?” He asked quietly, grip tightening on you ever so slightly, “Who did this to you?”

It took you another moment before you could finally spit out the two words that sent everyone’s stomachs plummeting to the ground, “My… parents.”

Over your shoulder, Damian was quick to make eye contact with Jason, giving him one firm nod that told the man everything he needed to know.

He ushered his other brothers out of the room, already having gone over with the youngest what he was to do when you told them who was abusing you.

The door was once again clicked shut softly behind them, and your best friend continued to hold you until you could finally speak once more.

“It-it started a while ago,” You admitted, tears having slowed as you sniffed, “It was just a slap or two at first, but it progressively got worse.” A shudder ran through your body.

“It’s okay,” Damian whispered, planting a kiss on the side of your head, “You’re okay now.”

You let out another sob before you continued, “And they weren’t supposed to be home last night, but they had gotten back early and saw that I wasn’t home without asking them permission to leave…they weren’t happy when I got back.”

With that, you buried your face into back his shirt and gripped onto the fabric like a lifeline.

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, mentally kicking himself over and over again for not recognizing the signs sooner.

You lifted your head and looked at him with a tear soaked face, “I’m sorry for not telling you. And I know you go through so much worse every single night and it makes me feel so stupid that I couldn’t even handle this-“

He quickly pulled you back into his hold, effectively cutting you off, “Shh, don’t apologize. You have no reason to. Those sorry excuses of parents are the only ones who need to.” He reassured you, “I chose to do that voluntarily, you don’t. There’s a huge difference.”

You sniffled, pulling back once again to look at him, “What’s going to happen now?”

He reached up and gently wiped away your tears with his sleeve, “Don’t worry about that, the others are taking care of it.”

-•-

Jason finished pulling his mask over his head and turned to his two brothers, “Are you ready?”

They both gave him firm nods, gripping onto their weapons tightly, lips pulled into thin lines.

The three of them were going to pay your parents a visit as Gotham cities vigilantes and give them the scare of a lifetime before reporting them to the police and making sure that they go away for a long, long time.

“Let’s go then,” He practically growled, turning around and banging on your parents front door.

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #teen reader #bat family #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne x reader platonic #jason todd x reader #Jason Todd x reader platonic #dick grayson x reader #dick Grayson x reader platonic #tim drake x reader #Tim drake x reader platonic #batfam x reader platonic #dc x reader #dc #batman

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vidavalor · 10 months

Text

Ok but...

Crowley channeling his 1967/inner secret agent for this whole turtleneck look for the scene with Mr. Brown in The Dirty Donkey when tied to Aziraphale losing his damn mind and re-costuming everybody during The Ball is cracking me up.

To unnecessarily jog your memory lol, here's Crowley looking like a whole snack in the pub:

Turtleneck and the vest under the blazer, right? And here's Mr. Brown in the same scene, during which he was refusing to take Aziraphale's every damn hint of disinterest:

Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is wearing-- *in theory* lol-- the same set of clothes as Crowley, furthering the comparison between them. He's wearing a shirt, a tie, a vest, and a jacket over pants. It's just that he's wearing a far less sexy version of what Crowley has on and the shirt is a different kind. Mr. Brown has on a burnt orange shirt that would look far better with a brown suit than the black he has on and a truly garish tie. (So, we're saying Mr. Brown's look-- and the life it suggests-- would improve if he'd just own his brown-ness instead of trying to wear too much black aka to try to take over Crowley's role in Aziraphale's life.) His blazer is black and brown and doesn't fit him well and doesn't really work with his vest, which is brown. When Crowley snaps Mr. Brown back after The Ball and puts him into line for coffee at Nina's, he is wearing this same outfit, implying that he probably wore this to the Whickber Street meeting. This means that the outfit Mr. Brown has on during The Ball is the one Aziraphale made for him.

Without diving into exactly how horrifying a thing it is that Aziraphale is exerting this much control over the neighbors at The Ball here, we know that the idea is that Aziraphale was changing clothes of people at The Ball to reflect what he thought they should be wearing. Maggie got that beautiful blue silk blouse, reflecting how Aziraphale thought she should vary her record shop wardrobe a bit to catch Nina's eye. Mrs. Sandwich got a whole glow up from her tracksuit into the fabulous madam that she is. Jim... yeah, that's another meta lol. Crowley's only wardrobe change is one that happens prior to The Ball and that he made himself and has been wearing for most of the afternoon already. He is wearing a collarless black dress shirt with a few buttons undone, dressing up a little for his husband's work party thing.

Crowley, as we all know, was exempted from Aziraphale's Jane Austen influence and that's because a) Aziraphale seems to understand the concept of consent when it comes to his partner at least here and doesn't ever try to influence him but also b) Aziraphale thinks Crowley is perfect as he is. Aziraphale's assessment of Crowley's whole situation here is 10/10 no notes hey baby you wanna dance?

So it's then even funnier when Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets gets Queer Angel Eye for the Schulbby Human Guy-d into a late 1960s-inspired outfit with a turtleneck and a fitted blazer that coordinates with his vest and so does what the whole vest-blazer situation is supposed to do for his body and that whole godawful tie is just gone and the burnt orange blended into his jacket. He looks much better-- I won't disagree with Aziraphale here lol-- but he does because Aziraphale just literally dressed him up in a brown & brown plaid version of Crowley's look in the pub scene when Mr. Brown couldn't take the hints Aziraphale was hurling at him that he's not interested and that Crowley is his partner. Mr. Brown is no longer wearing a shred of black-- just different shades of brown lol. The black is the sex that is Crowley while the brown is, well, the Mr. Brown that is of the Brown's World of Carpets.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #aziracrow #mr brown #of brown's world of carpets

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kiss-me-cill-me · 8 months

Note

Can we get a part 2 of morning light where Jim gets to do all the things he wants to do to her 🙏

Okay, you've all convinced me. The world clearly demands more Jim, and who am I to deny the world? Nothing too crazy going on here, because I honestly see him as the type to still be a little hesitant in this situation, but he does get to have a bit more fun in this one lol.

Moon Light

Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Maybe moments of peace aren't as rare as you'd think, even during the apocalypse. Although, if you have anything to say about it, not all of Jim's moments with you will be quite so peaceful as the first.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of reader's recent loss of virginity, hair pulling, maybe some light manhandling, corruption kink if you really squint

A/N: This is a sequel to Morning Light, which you can read HERE!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

The end of a long day always makes you eager to crawl into bed. That heavy feeling that sweeps over your limbs after many hours of arduous hard work - scavenging or gardening or doing any one of the other dozens of small chores necessary for survival - is like a siren’s call to the pile of blankets that wait to enshroud you and Jim every night.

Today has been long for a… slightly different reason than usual. After your slow start to the day, it's been hard to focus on anything else but Jim. And now, pleasant memories of your shared morning together still float through your head as you press back lightly against Jim’s chest; the steady rise and fall of his breath lulling you into a state of half-sleep.

Jim’s body suddenly twitches behind you; his arms contracting momentarily as he falls deeper into his own slumber. You stir, roused from the edges of some dream that had been almost ready to claim you.

“Sorry, love - go back to sleep,” Jim murmurs.

He places a soft kiss on your temple, brushing his lips over a stray beam of moonlight that lands on the side of your face. You settle back, burrowing into the crevice of Jim’s arm that’s wrapped securely around you.

“M’not asleep,” you say, dreamily.

“Sounds like you are,” Jim teases, his breath still pleasantly warm on your neck.

He’s already nestled back into the pillows, nose pressing into the crook of your neck, lips lazily kissing you as he speaks.

“I’m not,” you insist, your voice a bit steadier.

And it’s true. You haven’t been able to sleep, even if you may have been teetering over the edge of it just a few seconds ago.

“Something wrong?” Jim asks. His own voice is sleepy but still clear; concern washing over his words as he pulls you just a bit closer.

“No. Just… thinking about earlier,” you reply.

Jim’s fingers against your waist tighten; almost too softly to notice. You might not have if not for the way your senses seem to be heightened; anticipating even the smallest movement.

“Earlier?” Jim’s voice now has the faintest hint of suggestion. “What’cha thinkin’ about earlier for?”

Your body wiggles against him; unable to hide your excitement at his slight teasing. As your back brushes just a bit lower, you don’t miss the feeling of something hard pressed up against you.

“Jim!” you squeal.

“What? You’re the one thinkin’ about it,” he hums, playfully holding your hips against his.

And he’s right; your mind is running wild. Racing with all kinds of thoughts and ideas about what he could do to you now. Now that you’d given yourself to him once.

There’s still so much time for you to explore, and to have him help you discover this new and exciting part of life. But… why bother to wait to get started?

“Jim…” you sigh, grinding back into him.

“What is it, love?”

He’s gentle as always, letting you take the lead. You press back even a little harder, testing the limits of his resolve.

“Touch me, Jim. Please.”

Jim doesn’t waste even a second with asking you whether you’re sure, this time. He must know, with the way your back arches into him, how badly you want him again. His hand snakes down, not quickly and not slow. Trying to hide his eagerness, unsuccessfully. You hum as he pushes past your waistband. All you have on is a pair of lace panties, and not much else aside from an old t-shirt. No wonder you were both getting ideas.

“You really have been thinking of me,” Jim laughs.

His fingers curl into the wetness that’s already gathered between your legs, not quite pushing past the soft resistance - to the place where you want him most desperately. Your walls flutter at the absence.

“’Course I have,” you reply. “Liked it that much, did ya?”

Jim’s voice is still slurred, heavy with the remnants of sleep even though he’s fully awake now. Before you can think of a response, you’re cut off by your own sudden gasp, as Jim’s fingers finally press inside you.

“Too much?” he asks.

“No - keep going. I like it.”

“Mmm. Wanna do more than just think about me?” Jim teases. “Want me to stop you from gettin’ yourself all bothered?”

“Yes.”

The word comes out a bit more desperately than you’d meant it to. But there’s no stopping yourself as Jim curls his fingers inside you, coaxing out more breathy sighs as you whimper against him.

Jim drags his fingers out of you, only to bring them up to pull down at your panties. You help him maneuver them over your hips, lifting your legs once they slide past your knees so that you can snatch them away. Under the blankets, Jim hurries to slip out of his own boxers. He’s wearing even less clothing than you are. All that’s between you now is your thin t-shirt.

“Wanna take this off, too?” Jim asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

You sit up for a second to pull the shirt off, then settle back down to rest against Jim’s chest. He’s already pressing between your thighs; rutting himself through the tight space of your legs. One of his hands comes up to messily grab at your breast; his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh.

“Want me to be gentle again, love?”

Your throat clenches at the dark tint in his words. You think back again to earlier, when Jim had promised to let himself do things to you that might break the rickety old bed that you shared. Now that you’ve gotten your first taste of intimacy, you’re thrillingly eager to learn about other, slightly less soft and gentle sides.

“Am I allowed to say no?” you breathe.

“Only if you want to,” Jim says, laughing a little.

His hips thrust just a bit more roughly against you as you squeeze your thighs together. The drag of his hard length between your legs is making your head spin already. Jim brings his lips up to rest against your ear.

“You’re not the one who needs my permission, you know,” he teases. “Already told you how badly I’d like to have my way with you.”

You bring a hand up to cup over his, still squeezing into your breast. Your fingers brush lightly for just a moment, before clamping down and pressing his touch into your skin with an intensity that's unlike anything he’s dared to give you.

“Then no,” you say, your voice sounding soft even in the silence of the dark room. “This time, I don’t want to be gentle.”

Jim tears his hand away, leaving the soft flesh of your breast to instead grab roughly at your hip. In one swift movement, he has you pressed into the mattress, your chest shoved against the sheets as the blanket over you is torn off. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice a bit huskier now.

“I was kind of hoping you’d say that,” he admits, before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your face. “Just promise to let me know if you need me to stop.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before Jim is pressing inside of you, taking it fairly slowly at first to give you a chance to adjust, but clawing against your hips the deeper he gets. You let out a soft whine, but press back to make him slide further into you, silently letting him know to continue.

The feeling is strange again at first, but now that you know what to expect, you adjust quickly. Jim stays still for a moment, then tilts his hips, hitting the same spot inside you that made you go crazy earlier. You see sparks, and grab at the bedsheets.

“You take me so well,” Jim praises, starting to move at a slow rhythm.

You arch your back, desperate for him to do more; go faster. He’s still being too gentle, and while part of you is grateful, what you really want is for him to let loose. He’s strong, though, and each thrust pushes you into the mattress. Your hips rise to meet him, and your face presses deeper into the pillow.

“You’ve got no clue how hard it is to hold back with you,” Jim growls above you.

You feel your walls clench down around him, and Jim lets out a hiss. His fingers are so tight against your hips that it feels like he might sink into your skin. You moan, desperate for more; desperate to make him pump into you and chase his own high.

“Don’t hold back, then,” you beg, wriggling as much as you can with him holding you.

“You need to pace yourself, love,” Jim grunts, the exertion of restraint creeping into his voice.

“I told you to not be gentle.”

Your voice is almost a whine at this point, and you feel Jim’s hips stutter against you. He regains his composure quickly, pistoning in with another sharp thrust. That’s more like it, and you hum in approval.

“This still too gentle for you?” Jim teases, leaning down to press into your back. “God - fuck her once and she’s already begging for me to corrupt her.”

You let out a small squeak as Jim grabs a generous fist of your hair, pulling your neck back a few inches as he gives it a soft tug at the roots.

“But alright, love. I can be a bit rough with ya.” Jim pulls your hair again, and you sigh, sinfully. “Too bad, though. You were such a nice girl.”

The smirk in Jim’s words makes you grin. This is exactly what you wanted from him, and you listen with growing thirst as the sound of his hips snapping into you fills the small room. His pace is getting faster now; the sound of his breath speeding up to match. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling back sharply with each thrust. You let yourself give in to the pleasure of knowing he's close; enjoying the ride as Jim chases his high. All of a sudden, he stops - pulls out and flips you over so that you’re laid on your back, looking up at him.

“Touch yourself,” Jim gasps, lining back up without pause. “Wanna see your face when you come.”

It takes you a second, between the distracting heat that blossoms over your chest, and the feel of him pressing back into you; stretching your walls as he picks up just where he left off. But you do, once you’ve gathered your thoughts well enough, bring a hand down to play with yourself as Jim continues to thrust.

“Fuck - might not last long enough for you to do it,” Jim laughs, more than a little out of breath.

He stops, pressing into you one more time before pulling back, still half inside of you as he looks down, watching your fingers knead over your clit.

“That’s it, love. Oh, fuck - keep going. Need you to come like this.”

He starts to move again, more hesitantly. Wary of finishing before you’ve had a chance to do the same. It’s hard not to make quick work of yourself with Jim nearly growling over you, and soon you feel yourself tip over the edge.

Jim lets out a string of curses as you feel yourself clench hard around him. And just as quickly, he’s lifting you up, one hand snaking under your waist while the other comes up to grab hold of the headboard. He pounds into you with your hips raised shakily off of the mattress, desperate and making you grab at the bed sheets just to avoid getting pushed by the force.

Finally, Jim pulls out with a sharp breath, letting himself sink down to nestle his face in your neck as he screams weakly.

“Shhhhit… fuck,” Jim groans.

He’s still holding you up, your body half hovering over the mattress, your shoulders pressed into the pillows. The sheets below you are ruined, to say the least - until you have a chance to bring them down to the river and wash them, in any case.

“Sorry,” Jim laughs, clearly embarrassed. “Got a little carried away there…”

You giggle and look up at him still bracing himself against the headboard. Carefully, you push Jim across to the less messy side of the bed, flipping him over. Once he’s on his back, you straddle him, feeling the dampness that still lingers against your core as it presses into his stomach.

“Why do I have a very bad feeling that I’ve awakened something in you?” Jim chuckles.

You don’t reply, until you’ve had a chance to lean down and give him a long, steamy kiss on the lips. Only then do you pull away.

“Because you have,” you confirm.

You and Jim both laugh as he flips you over again so that you’re stretched out below him, looking up at his playful eyes in the hazy moonlight.

“Well, since the sheets are already half ruined,” Jim says. “What d’you say we finish ‘em off?”

You nod, already wrapping your legs around him.

“Told you I didn’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you laugh.

#jim 28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #jim 28 days later smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #28 days later smut #LemmyFics

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