#that will be my own holy water

[ineffable-suffering]

Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley", because I think I finally figured out the real meaning behind that line

Naturally, this line of all lines, the most line of them all, is constantly circling around my rotten brain like a moth around a flame.

In addition, though, there's always been another Good Omen's line/exchange that has kept bothering me again lately. And literally until just about five minutes ago, I had never thought of relating them back to each other.

Now, five minutes later, I have and I think I just ... figured it out.

In case you were wondering: The second line that wouldn't leave my head is what Aziraphale says to Crowley during their clandestine meeting at St. James' Park in 1862 when Crowley asks him for Holy Water:

A: "I'm not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley!"

And here's what bugs me about this: Why did Aziraphale, without a breath of hesitation, immediately assume Crowley wanted the Holy Water to commit suicide if things ever went wrong?

That's ... such a dark assumption to make. Especially because that is absolutely not what Crowley wanted it for, as he literally says himself:

C: "That's not what I want it for, just insurance."

And what does Aziraphale reply?

A: "I'm not an idiot, Crowley!"

Because he firmly, firmly believes that Crowley is asking him to bring him the Holy Water as a foolproof method of taking his own life in case Heaven and Hell ever find out about them.

To this day, that conversation gives me chills whenever I think about it. We so rarely get see what genuine emotions and thoughts for and about Crowley Aziraphale keeps neatly tucked away behind that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his. This moment in 1862 is one of the very rare ones where his façade slips a little – and the peak we get isn't a fun one. It's a very dark, scared and vulnerable one.

What am I on about and how does this all relate to the infamous "You go too fast for me, Crowley"-line? Let's look at it under the cut.

(Word count: 2560 | Reading time: ~10 min. | TW: mentions of suicide)

Like I mentioned up above, it always struck me to my core that Aziraphale very clearly immediately assumes Crowley wants the Holy Water for possible suicide. Not only is that a very dark and upsetting thought, it also poses the question: Why? Why is that the first place Aziraphale's mind goes to?

Crowley says at the very beginning of their conversation:

C: "We have a lot in common, you and me."

He's definitely referring to their (very mutual) relationship Arrangement and the fact that they both find themselves kept apart and watched by their respective head offices, not allowing them to ever misstep and give themselves away.

After bickering around a little like they do, Crowley asks his favour – and he makes it very clear in a quiet and serious voice that:

C: "This is something else. [...] For if it all goes wrong."

He's not just talking about Heaven or Hell finding out about some silly frivolous miracles, no. He's talking about them finding out about their Arrangement, their relationship. The worst of all worst case scenarios.

So bad, in fact, that he doesn't even ask his favour out loud but instead decided to write it down.

Aziraphale's reaction is ... severe.

We immediately see his face drop as, he too, realizes that this is all of a sudden a very serious conversation indeed. And he immediately and vigorously denies Crowley's request because he thinks it to be one for a suicide pill.

To understand how he could arrive at that lightning-quick (and also wrong) conclusion, we have to try and understand how Aziraphale sees Crowley and the threat that the angel himself as well as their relationship poses to Crowley.

Crowley can, at times, be a very self-deprecating and cynical character. He's without a doubt carrying a lot of trauma and unspoken fears and emotions with him at all times. Aziraphale at this point in their relationship probably has a good notion of what those are – but he doesn't know the whole depth of it because they've never been able to speak freely enough and Crowley has seemingly decided to keep many-a things to himself, still. They both tread the waters of plausible deniability very well.

So, to jump to the conclusion of Crowley entertaining suicidal thoughts in the face of unavoidable danger is ... quite a violent jump. And remember: "[...] underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times then it was utter surety that the universe would look after him."

So, what is it that Aziraphale does know that would drive him to such a drastic conclusion when, in reality, secret optimist Crowley only ever wanted the Holy Water to protect himself against Hell to come out safe on the other end of things?

2500 BC, Land of Uz: A: "That [going along with Heaven/Hell as far as you can] sounds, um ..." C: "Lonely? Yeah." A: "But you said it wasn‘t." C: "I‘m a demon. I lied."

After Crowley helps Aziraphale out in Edinburgh in 1827, Crowley is immediately sucked back down to Hell We don't know what exactly happened after that or just how long Crowley was gone. We also don't know if Crowley ever told Aziraphale what happened, once he returned. What we and Aziraphale do know, is that Crowley ends up asking him for Holy Water, out of the blue, only a couple of decades later.

1601, The Globe: A: "But if Hell finds out [about the Arrangement], they won't just be angry. They'll destroy you." (additionally, later in time, C: "My lot does not send rude notes.")

Ergo: It's very clear that Aziraphale seems to have put two and two together with his own angel math by what he has a) witnessed himself and b) what Crowley has said himself which equals: In going against Hell, Crowley has felt incredibly lonely before he had Aziraphale by his side and if Heaven and Hell were to ever find out about them, Hell's punishment would be a whole lot worse than Heaven's.

He thinks Hell would destroy Crowley.

So when Crowley, who so rarely says how he really feels and one of the few times he did, told Aziraphale he was lonely, says he wants the Holy Water, the immediate conclusion Aziraphale comes to is: He wants it as an emergency exit. In case things go pear-shaped. He wants it to escape whatever dreadful punishment Hell would have in stock for such a lonely traitor. He wants it as a suicide pill.

For Aziraphale to not even entertain the thought or believe that Crowley does indeed only want the Holy Water as a means of self-defense is, again, absolutely heartbreaking. Because it tells us a thing or two just how scared and desperate Aziraphale thinks Crowley to be. Something along the lines of: "If I myself am already so immensely terrified of Hell's punishment for Crowley, how terrified must Crowley be."

I think a whole lot of this is also very, very strong projection and shows us how Aziraphale himself feels about all of it. How scared he is for himself and Crowley. Of what would be done to them.

A: „Out of the question! Do you know what trouble I'd be in if they knew I‘d been ... fraternizing?“

He knows they would both suffer immense consequences and that Crowley‘s still would be worse. If anything, in a dark and twisted way, it shows that Aziraphale himself has definitely entertained the idea of suicide as a concept, at least. Maybe not for himself or Crowley, yet, but remember, he‘s awfully fond of Shakespeare‘s Hamlet.

A: „To be or not to be? Buck up, Hamlet!“

Yeah, buck up indeed. (By the way, there's a great meta by @greenthena on why Aziraphale likes Hamlet so much that kind of plays into my point a little. You can read it here).

And again, who knows what Aziraphale might have actually witnessed of Hell's cruel ways already in the past (Edinburgh of 1827, or at other times) that made him arrive at the conclusion that, ultimately, suicide would be the less painful choice for Crowley when faced with Hell's consequence for their relationship.

I told you this was gonna take a bit of a darker turn. So, here we are. At the turn. It doesn't get much lighter from here on out, I'm afraid.

Because all of this gives "You go too fast for me, Crowley" a whole new devastating meaning.

Personally, I always found it a teensy bit difficult to relate that line back to Aziraphale implying that Crowley was trying to push their relationship a little too fast for him.

Deducing that as the meaning of "You goo to fast for me" after we were shown in the montage of S1E3 that Aziraphale, from circa 1941 on, was undoubtedly fully aware of just how madly in love he was with Crowley, has always felt odd to me. And it continued to feel even odder after we got the whole story of 1941 in S2.

Because if that minisode showed us anything, it's that if you let Aziraphale take over the metaphorical wheel for about five minutes, "too fast" doesn't even match the astronomical speed with which he crashes head first into 15th base. Forget the hand holding and kissing, let's go straight to you shooting me on the first date I planned for us!

And they say romance is dead.

Now look, of course, Aziraphale is still keeping most of his romantic feelings and longing bottled up out of fear that Heaven and Hell could find out about them and have Crowley destroyed. We've established that this very big fear of his is the driving factor behind him never trying to overstep that invisible line.

But still, those feelings? They're there. Oh, Hell, they are t-h-e-r-e.

Our angel is a master of self-delusion but not even he is holy enough to deny the fact that, if he could, he'd want nothing more than to lock that demon down and elope together into their happily-ever-after.

So, when Aziraphale finally budges and hands over the Holy Water to Crowley in 1967, I've always had a hard time believing that that line coming from Mr. "I guess there's something to be said for shades of grey" himself actually meant: "I'm not ready yet, you want to go faster than I do."

Because really, apart from trying to convince Aziraphale of the Arrangement and rescuing him from every silly, coincidental predicament the angel has gotten himself into over the millennia, what exactly is it that Crowley did here to "go too fast"? Hell, he's been at it at the pace of a snail ever since, very well knowing that Aziraphale would take a lot of gentle nudging and lunch temptations invitations to agree with the Arrangement.

All Crowley does in that moment in the car is offer Aziraphale a lift, anywhere he wants to go. And yes, that is code their little dance, that is how he shows his love for Aziraphale. But Aziraphale has never before deemed that an issue or seen it as a too-fast progression of their relationship. He even suggests another date himself two seconds later, saying:

A: "Perhaps we could go for a picknick one day. Dine at the Ritz."

So, what, one sentence later he suddenly wants to hit the breaks again? After he literally looked like this the last time Crowley drove (literally way too fast) through burning London?

Nah, I'm not buying it.

Instead, here's what I think Aziraphale really means with this line that changed us all (and I'm sorry, but I'm about to one-up the sadness of the 1862 meeting):

I think Aziraphale is referring to what he thinks is the reason Crowley wants the Holy Water for.

Suicide.

And boy-fucking-howdy, does that change the game.

Because if we assume that Aziraphale, all throughout the one-century-long Holy Water standoff, thought Crowley wanted it as a quick, ahem, Escape From Everything, what I think Aziraphale really means with "You go too fast for me" is this:

To him, Crowley is asking the most cruel deed of him to bring him the one thing that could take Crowley away from Aziraphale for good. For ever. In case things go pear shaped. In case Hell finds out about them and comes after Crowley.

To Aziraphale, Crowley is asking him to load the bullet into his gun for the time it won't be a trick. So he can escape before Hell gets to him.

More devestatingly, I think Aziraphale even understands where that notion comes from. Aziraphale knows how dangerous their relationship is. And Hell does not send rude notes. So, I think after pondering on it for a good millennia, part of him has come to understand why Crowley would want an emergency exit.

Which is absolutely fucking heartbreaking.

Especially because that's not even what Crowley was thinking when he made his request. He truly only wanted it as a defense. But Aziraphale doesn't believe or fully realize that. Aziraphale believes the Holy Water is a suicide pill and to some extent even understands why Crowley might want that.

And yet, despite (wrongly, but well) understanding Crowley's intentions, Aziraphale is still deeply upset and terrified at the thought of Crowley taking his own life should they ever get caught. Which explains his extreme reaction all the way back at their clandestine meeting at St. James' Park.

Aziraphale assuming Crowley's way out of the most pear-shaped situation of them all would be suicide also means that Aziraphale would be the one who'd be ... well, left behind.

He recognises that choosing death over possible eternal punishment is maybe somewhat of an understandable choice. And yet, it's a choice that, to him, Crowley has made without him. Seemingly way before their first talk about it.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley seems to have made up his mind about his escape plan without him in it.

He thinks that if they were caught, Crowley would want some Holy Water around to quickly chug before he would be at Hell's mercy and that would be it.

Crowley would, for the first time ever, really leave. Not just for Alpha Centauri. But actually leave. Escape and run away to a point of no return. For good. Without Aziraphale. To a place where Aziraphale couldn't follow him, no matter how fast he tried to run himself.

It goes a little something like:

"If they found out about us, you would choose to go where I couldn't follow. And you're asking me to pave the road for you to walk there. Without me ever being able to get a say in walking alongside you. You want to go to places where I could never join you. You'd run away without me and I understand why but you didn't even give me a chance to catch up. You go too fast for me, Crowley."

F*ck, man. I think I need to lie down.

Y'know what else that gives new meaning to?

Alright, that's it, I'm out. Enough sad meta-ing for the day. See you all around once I've stopped slipping further into the void, folks. :')

[starry-bi-sky]

how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

[ndostairlyrium]

grey hair, fluff, and murrine 🔮

[7roaches]

perfectly normal simom posting

[gorepill]

sometimes the only thing keeping u from killin urself is that ur only method tastes like straight up horse ass. like genuinely holy shit I remember how bad rubbing alcohol tastes. genuine no way in hell I'm ever even SIPPING that shit again. genuinely so nasty. Wine is better and I say that as a wine HATER. wine fucking sucks it's the worst alcohol-intended-for-consumption but on an "it's called alcohol" level it's slightly, SLIGHTLY better than rubbing alcohol.

[123pixieaod]

'This Church is a Quiet Place'

A thousand thanks to Lily, for cheerleading and proofreading this💖 TW at the bottom 🩷🩵🤍

-

The church is quiet. In Max's memory, there were always sounds. Footsteps and bells and whispers, a cacophony of worship compounded in one place.

Maybe the church her mother brought her to is different from this church. Maybe her memories as a child were simply elaborated on, made big and bright and alive by the passing of time.

This church is not softened by the sounds of the living. This church is silent, still. A breath held, a heartbeat not yet formed.

Light shines through the stained glass windows, and Max walks through the tinted air. Green, blue, red, orange.

The colours are as vibrant of God's love for you, her mother used to whisper, an arm wrapped tight around her slim shoulders.

God the Father, she'd say. In the name of the Father and the Son.

Promise me you'll keep your faith Max, she also said, voice a soft murmur as they sat side by side in the pews. Max nodded. It's important to pray. God listens to our prayers Max, he's our Father.

And Max had tried, to begin with. The first weekend, she asked Jos if they could visit a local church to light a candle. Jos' nose wrinkled. 

What for?

Max felt her mother's promise whisper away. She shook her head.

I don't know.

Her dad gave her a look, lips thin. Your mother's after making you too soft. You're an adult now, not some child in need of fairytales.

Max nodded. She never asked again.

Her mother knew. She must've figured it out, that she stopped asking her opinion on the weekly sermon, stopped answering her questions on her faith.

It seems strange, to think she once believed in it all. She walks softly up the aisle, her footsteps a gentle cadence reverberating through the church. There's an elderly woman at the front, head bowed as her fingers worry a Rosary. A man behind,  reading the Bible. And Max. The imposter.

She doesn't have the faith anymore. It disappeared somewhere on the never- ending motorways, the Sundays spent racing instead of praying, nights spent reciting strategies in the darkness instead of the blessings her mother used to whisper. Her fingertips grew blackened, dipped in oil rather than blessed water. 

Max thinks faith is like youth. Once it's gone, it's impossible to get it back.

Daniel still believes. He pretends not to, but Max knows he does. She found a rosary once in the back of his bedside drawers. The beads worn smooth, colour long flaked away. She had sat and ran her fingers over the string of knots and wooden pills, imagining the countless times he must've done the same. In secret, hidden away. Counting each prayer off, voice nothing more than a whisper.

Daniel crosses himself before each race. Daniel bows his head whenever a funeral parade passes on the streets. Daniel has a tiny, inked cross on his ribs. Max found it, nestled amongst the other loud and brilliant decorations he's designed into his skin. She traced it, and Daniel had started as if Max had slapped him.

This is new, Max had said. He'd laughed, roughly tugging his shirt on.

No Max, it's always been there. You just haven't been paying attention. He tossed a smile at Max, easy and in love.

She finds the candles nestled in the corner, just beneath the altar. Three rows of darkened tealights, only one offering a feeble, dying flame.

'Donations only!!!' is scribbled over a money box, and Max digs in her pockets, fishing out all her loose change.

She feels wrong being here. A fake. Like a woman who's been caught having an affair, and is now returning, head bowed and feet dragging. Kneeling, fingers clasped, repenting.

Has she no shame? Her mother would ask. The summer before the divorce, her mother's side warm against Max's as they watched TV together. These women, they always take men like that back, she tutted, reaching for the popcorn Max was holding. You won't be like that, will you Max? You'll be better than us all. You'll stand your ground if someone wrongs you.

She shook her head. I won't ever get married, she replied. It's lame.

Her mother huffed a laugh, even though Max hadn't been joking. Just wait till you fall in love Maxy, then -

I won't ever fall in love either, Max declared, watching the woman on screen embrace the man. She wrinkled her nose. She had seen what love did; she wanted no part of it. Max's mother simply laughed again, running her fingers lightly through her tawny locks.

She should phone her, it's been nearly a month since they last spoke. Sophie is always happy to hear from her, but she's preoccupied now with other things. Managing her new boyfriend's fledgling company, helping Victoria with the kids. Her life is full and Max is not really a part of it anymore. Hasn't been for decades, since she turned twelve and barely lived in the same time zone as her, let alone the same house.

Daniel's close with his parents. He calls them every second day, time zones carefully navigated around. Up early, doing yoga on the terrace as he chats to his dad about the latest news. Evening, Max already in bed, listening to him laugh softly through the walls as his mother tells him the local gossip.

What can you even have to talk about? Surely you've spoken about every possible conversation point at this stage, Max said, only half in jest. Daniel laughed, wrinkles creasing around his eyes in a way she knows he hates but she loves.

They're my parents Maxy, he replied with ease, as if that's the only answer she needs.

He's over there now. With Grace and Joe and Michelle. Max feels distant from him, from the life he must be living. On the ranch, dust gathered in the creases of his skin as he worked under the sun. Going out with childhood friends to pubs where everyone speaks how he does. His nephew and niece, adoring their overseas uncle, returned.

She lights the first candle. The flame is strong, and she feels stupid for taking such stock in the image, as if the strength of the flame is akin to the sureness of her future.

She doesn't know how to do this. Whisper? In her head? Address it all to God, like a formal letter?

She suddenly feels very young. Her mother beside her, handing her the childhood book of Bible verses she received for Christmas. Pray, Maxy, she murmured, bowing her head.

Max looks up. The light is tinted blue and white, shining in through a maritime scene created in the windows. There's a framed painting hung on the wall. The Virgin Mary with Baby Jesus. A pale woman with dark hair. Arms wrapped around a bundle of dark blankets. A baby, pale and young and smiling, looking out at the viewer. Looking at Max.

She closes her eyes and prays.

-

Maybe some people aren't meant to be parents Maxy, Daniel had said after the twelfth negative test. 12. A year of trying and failing. Max isn't used to failing at anything; she doesn't know how to do it.

What? She twisted on the bed, staring at him. He just continued staring at the ceiling.

Maybe some people aren't meant to be parents, he finally repeated, tone soft.

She scoffed, turning back around. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and the stinging somehow grew, like when she was a kid and she had accidentally gotten some chemicals on her hands. Corrosive. Her dad had grabbed her, dragging her to the garage's sink and scrubbed at her red hands until the burning finally abated.

She sat up and then stood quickly. Sports bra, an old Nike shirt and her leggings. Burning, burning, burning.

Max, Daniel sat up too. Wait.

I'm going for a run, she told him without looking at him.

Maxy, he tried again. I just mean maybe we should -

She slammed the bedroom door on her way out. She thought he might follow her, but he didn't, and she tugged her shoes on roughly. The burn in her chest was spreading. It's corrosive, her father had told her. She had never learned that word before, and he had had to explain the meaning as he wrapped her palms with gauze.

-

Outside the church, the sun is beginning to weaken. Shadows length in the carpark, and Max stands against the church's wall, taking out her phone.

She asked him to leave. She needed a break, time to figure herself out. She thought he would fight her on it, and was irrationally hurt when he had just nodded, lips thin and brow pinched.

Alright, he said. If that's what you want.

She didn't want any of it. She didn't want a body seemingly incapable of life, didn't want the 12 pregnancy tests lined neatly in her memory, didn't want the empty study room next to their own bedroom that they both refused to ever address.

"Maxy," he picks up the first ring. He sounds happy. She doesn't know if it's because it's her he's speaking to, or if he's always happy, now he's home again.

"Hey," she says. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he says, and she can tell he's meaning it. "How are - are you outside?"

She looks at the birds above in the trees, singing sweetly. Their songs are getting picked up, listened to halfway across the world. "Yes," she says softly.

"Going for a walk?" He asks, sounding like he's walking somewhere too. She can hear his slightly laboured breathing, the vague crunch of his footsteps on the dried grass.

"I went to a church, " she tells him.

"A church, " he repeats, as if she's named some alien planet. "You went to mass?" Disbelief clear.

They're not broken up. She doesn't really know what they are now. Other than in love,  of course, but that was never in question. She had asked him to leave and he had left. They still text every day, call a few times each week. She doesn't know what he told his family, and she's too scared to ask him.

"No, not mass. Church. As in, I went inside a church."

"Why, a horde of vampires were chasing you?" He asks. She can hear the smile in his voice. Longing fills her chest, the ache almost visceral.

"No, this is Monaco, not Transylvania. You are the one out of the two of us who needs to be worried about that," she tells him.

"It's too hot Maxy, all potentially murderous vampires would be burnt to dust before they'd get close to tasting this sweet, sweet blood. You know, today it was almost 40 degrees? Climate change is fucking us all up, but at least it means i can take a few hours off from the ranch because it's too dangerous to work outside in this heat."

Max hums softly. There's a nest in one of the branches - that's why the two birds were singing so loudly.

"You are having a good time then?" She asks.

"Yeah. It's always good to be back here." he pauses then, as if to weigh up his words. "I'm looking forward to being home, though."

She frowns. One of the birds slips into the brown mess of twigs, and sheep's wool balanced on the branch while the other is left outside; a guardian. "Why, are you not at the ranch right now? Where are you then?"

"What? I mean," he interrupts himself with a quiet laugh. "Maxy. I meant home. Home home."

"Home home," she repeats dubiously.

"With you," he adds, voice suddenly soft and vulnerable.

She looks away from the birds. She swallows. He's quiet, waiting for her to speak. The air is cooling down, dusk creeping closer.

"I miss talking with you," she finally says.

"We still talk. We talk nearly everyday. We're talking right now " he says softly, and she supposes she deserves this, him making her say it aloud.

"I miss you," she amends. "I miss... I miss you a lot Daniel."

He laughs. Not because it's funny, but because his happiness needs an outlet, needs to be vocalised and released in some form. Laugh or cry, Maxy, he used to tell her. Gotta be one of them.

"I miss you too," he says.

"You should come home," she tells him.

"I should."

"Home home."

"Yeah, home home."

They're quiet for a bit. She looks up, her gaze caught by a flutter of movement. One of the birds darts away, the other staying by the nest. She wonders if she concentrated very hard, would she be able to hear the chirping.

"I'm sorry," Daniel blurts out. Max frowns.

"For what?"

"I..." He pauses. He's definitely walking somewhere, she can hear his footfall over the terrain.

"I was wrong," he finally says. "About us... About... About what I said. About how some people aren't meant to be parents. I was thinking and... I mean, sure I wasn't wrong about that because some people definitely shouldn't have kids, but us, me and you, we should, I mean if you still want to, because we're, we would... we would be good, or I don't know, maybe we just are good, like good people and good partners and I shouldn't have said what I said, because it's not true, we'd be the best and coolest parents and -"

"Daniel," she interrupts him. He instantly goes quiet.

"I think so too," she says. He laughs, relieved and happy and excited, all melded into one.

"Because I've been doing some research," he begins again, words rushing into each other in their hurry to be spoken. "And there's a clinic we could try, or maybe -"

Max nods, letting Daniel's chatter wash over her like water, pure and clear and blessed. The lone bird sits above, and continues to sing.

(((TW: infertility)))

[spiderslvts]

some new tags ?? some new tags !! + affiliate tags :]

  .   🕸️  HOW   OUT   OF   HAND   IT’S   GOTTEN       ╱     ooc.

  .   🕸️  MY   FLESH   IS   LACED   WITH   SUGAR   AND   MAGGOTS       ╱     asks.

  .   🕸️  YOU   SAY   YOU   MISS   ME    (  I’M   RIGHT   HERE  )       ╱     starters.

  .   🕸️  WITH   PINK   EYESHADOW   AND   A   SOBBING   PRAYER       ╱     isms.

  .   🕸️  ANYTHING   COULD   BE   HOLY   UNDER   NEON  LIGHTS       ╱     visage.

  .   🕸️  DO   YOU   FEEL   THE   EYES   OVER   YOUR   BODY   STILL?       ╱     promo.

  .   🕸️  TO   SWEETLY   MELT   IN   SIN       ╱     rp memes.

  .   🕸️  I   DRINK   ;   I   BURN   ;   I   SHATTER   MY   OWN   DREAMS       ╱     open starter.

  .   🕸️  YOUR   FISH   HOOK   IN   MY   MOUTH       ╱     crack.

  .   🕸️  EATEN   IN   PIECES   ;   NOT   MEANT   TO   BE    KNOWN   WHOLE       ╱     ic.

  .   🕸️  I   BELIEVE   YOU   LIKE   A    BEATEN   DOG       ╱     dash games.

  .   🕸️  I   WILL   NEVER   BE   FORGIVEN   FOR   WANTING       ╱     affiliates.

  .   🕸️  KISS   ME   WITH   MY   BLOOD   BETWEEN   YOUR   TEETH       ╱     ships.

  .   🕸️  TO   BE   LOOKED   AT    &.   NEVER   SEEN       ╱     art.

  .   🕸️  TOUCHED   DOWN   TO   THE   DELICATE   BONES       ╱     poetry.

  .   🕷  |   IN  NEON  LIGHTS     ╱     canon &. main verse.

  .   🕷  |   THE  CALL  OF  THE  ANGELS     ╱     overlord verse.

  .   🕷  |   FEATHER  BOAS  AND  GLITTER     ╱     70’s verse. (ft. sirserpentine)

  .   🕷  |   OVERSEER  OF  HELL     ╱     zestial’s employee verse (ft. zestials)

  .   🕷  |   GOOD  OLD  FASHIONED  LOVER  BOY     ╱     human verse.

  .   🕷  |   LACED  WITH  BELLADONNA     ╱     lost twins verse (ft. spyderdust)

  .   ♡  DO  YOU  LIKE  THE  SHOW ?  ARE  YOU  TIRED  OF  IT ?     ╱     videoaux.

  .   ♡  THE  LAST  SHRED  OF  TRUTH  IN  THE  LOST  MYTH  OF  TRUE  LOVE     ╱     hellsbroadcaster.

  .   ♡  I  COULD  NEVER  DEFINE  ALL  THAT  YOU  ARE  TO  ME     ╱     r-adio.

  .   ♡  BUT  I’D  NEVER  SAY  I  LOVE  YOU  JUST  TO  HEAR  YOU  SAY  IT  BACK     ╱     sirserpentine.

  .   ♡  I’M  PUT  TO  AWE  SOMETHING  SO  FLAWED  AND  FREE     ╱     dark-ambition.

  .   ♡  YOUR  BEAUTY  NEVER  EVER  SCARED  ME     ╱     gamblins.

  .   ♡  THE  FEAR  OF  THE  UNKNOWN  /  THE  FACE  IN  MONOCHROME     ╱     zestials.

  .   ♡  YOU  HATE  THE  APPLAUSE  /  YOU  CRAVE  THE  ATTENTION     ╱     xluciifer.

  .   ♡  BUT  YOU’RE  HOLDING  ME  LIKE  WATER  IN  YOUR  HANDS     ╱     oriiginis.

[hopeless-astronaut]

As bad as things were, you were glad you had Qiu and Tamarack here with you.

Higher quality under the cut 💕

Also background is from the game, I did not draw that!!

Bonus version w/ diff mc hairstyle and w/o game background:

[nehswritesstuffs]

So I know that a lot has been said about Sabo being a Replacement Ace, and there have been comparisons between Law and Nami (or Law and Robin (and I even saw Law as just a different flavor of Mihawk once, rawr)), but I would like to propose for the internet’s consideration: Law as a Replacement Ace.

Tall, dark, and handsome? Check.

Super-overpowered Devil Fruit? Check.

Tattoos? Check.

Delightfully allergic to shirts? Check.

Fun hat? Check.

“Why the fck is this adult man putting up with Luffy?” Check.

Secret name? Check.

Shipped with Nami, Zoro, Sanji, and Luffy with varying success rates? Check.

Survived the torching of their home? Check.

Broody little shit who surrounded himself with delightful loonies after leaving home? Check.

Fucked over by the WG? Check. Multiple times? Double-check.

Entire existence very specifically irritates Sengoku? Check.

Offered Warlord status? Check.

Adopted by a Very Tall Man? Check.

After living with a bunch of weirdos who love in their own way I guess? Check.

Adventures with the Straw Hats, featuring Smoker and Tashigi? Check.

An adventure that was a side-quest before toppling a Warlord unjustly ruling a hot-climate kingdom? Check.

Got into a fight with Blackbeard while I was in the middle of writing fic with them as semi-to-major players? CHECK.

In conclusion, these two men from polar opposite Blues share a lot of the same beats and I dig it. Except pls one of you two needs to stay safe and we only have one option left. I mean, there’s so many characters in this series that it’s highly unlikely one won’t start seeing some patterns, but you know... it’s just neat to notice.

Now Luffy just needs to learn what happened in ch.1081 and snap into Friend Protecc Mode.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[mewtwo24]

You know reading vol 5 of mdzs before all the rest (don't ask me why I'm a clown and there were Circumstances) has to be the craziest experience of my life. Because it took all of ten minutes of wwx talking to literally hit me so hard in the gut I had to sit down and listen to really loud music for a while to calm down.

Who needs therapy when mxtx is alive and writing, I guess????? 🤡

Can't wait to get to the actual tragic parts I just know I'm gonna be that "help" frog phone meme

[thedevotionaltour]

marvel should hire me to write bc i'd pull the funniest thing on earth where i am wiping his catholic slate CLEAN and i would explcitily have him go ehhhh i've never really been religious me and my dad went some easters and christmases and attended a few services outside of that but that stopped by the time i was around 10 and my dad just kinda gave up on it because he didn't particularly want to go by that point either. and even then we hadn't gone every year for easter and christmas in that time frame. and then we never bring that shit up again in the story. he is only catholic in the sense he went a few times and it's the only church experience he knew and his dad probably grew up going to church more in his youth being dragged in by his family but he never felt particularly compelled to go back to it once he moved out on his own. catholic only in the fact that his family was irish catholic but his dad is a lapsed catholic who did not give a fuuuuuck

[pr0vincial]

@shadowbrn liked for a starter ! for cassian

⸺  𝗜𝗡  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗠𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗗  𝗚𝗟𝗢𝗪  𝗢𝗙  𝗧𝗛𝗘  𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚  𝗦𝗨𝗡  she  slowly  awakens  ,  snuggling  closer  to  cassian  as  her  head  rests  gently  against  the  broad  expanse  of  his  chest  .  she  can  feel  the  steady  rhythm  of  his  heartbeat  beneath  her  cheek  ,  feel  the  calm  of  the  morning  envelope  them  both  as  consciousness  creeps  its  way  into  her  psyche  .  the illyrian's  arms  drape  securely  around  her frame  ,  pulling  her  in flush  as  together  they  hide  from  the  chilled  morning  air  .  ❝  good  morning  ,  ❞  belle  murmurs  ,  a  small  ,  serene  smile  creeping  across  plush  lips as they brush against his cheek  .  ❝  i’m  glad  you’re  awake  ;  i  fear  i’d  get  lost  if  i  tried  to go and  find  some  breakfast  .  .  .  ❞

[izzy-stradlins-harem]

He is godlike

How much do you think that guitar would hurt if it was smacking the back of your head while sucking his dick?

[space-coupe]

Crazy how much my quality of life has improved since getting a job with a guaranteed paycheck rather than relying on the gratuity of strangers

[fail-fren]

Btw I've finally watched and finished trigun stampede and.... yea I didn't like it all that much