#I don’t even like hemingway man

[notfye]

“ernest only has lovely things to say about you” unfortunately became the pinnacle of flirting for me somewhere along the way. alas.

[neonovember]

OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors. 

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it. 

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in. 

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?” 

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month. 

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-” 

“No, no I want this”  You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things” 

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves. 

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once. 

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw. 

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design. 

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her. 

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace. 

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

[wishcamper]

Nesta, Interrupted: gendered perceptions of alcoholism in ACOSF

CW: addiction, sexual assault, gendered violence.

Creds: I’m a licensed counselor with a degree specialization in treating addiction. I have career experience with multiple modes of mental health, trauma, and substance use treatment in women-specific carceral, institutional, and healthcare settings. And I know anyone can come on the internet and say that, but I pinky promise.

The short version:

ACOSF stigmatizes alcoholism in line with cultural standards.

Western culture feels differently about female and male alcoholics due to systemic sexism, and thus treats them differently.

Women’s experience of alcoholism is often compounded by or even a result of systemic factors and intersectional identity.

Nesta’s treatment in ACOSF, while repugnant, is in many ways very accurate of attitudes today.

(I’ll be using “women/men” and “male/female” to denote cis afab and amab people. Little research exists on the experiences of queer, nonbinary and gender expansive considerations in addiction and recovery, which is a fuckin’ shame. Studies are also largely conducted with white participants due to enormous barriers to treatment for Black, Indigenous, and people of color, so this convo is inherently incomplete where it neglects those intersections.)

Okay, first things first: ACOSF is a book that stigmatizes alcoholism. I will not be taking questions.

The number one thing to understand is that in America, land of Miss Sarah, we are very bad at addiction treatment (tx). Why? Because our culture hates addicts has as stigma around addiction. And female alcoholics bear a very specific set of stigmas based in their identity.

In Susanna Kaysen’s memoir Girl, Interrupted , Kaysen’s character is institutionalized following a non-fatal suicide attempt. When evaluated, she’s diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, that bastion of diagnoses perfect for people (75% of whom are female-identified) who don’t fit into our polite definition of functioning. As the book unfolds, she reflects on how (white) women are often pathologized when they buck against systems of oppression that create the dysfunction in them in the first place. That is not to say other women in the institution are not genuinely in need of help, nor that mental illness in women is always from a systemic wound. But it’s crucial in the treatment of female addiction and mental health disorders to considered the systemic factors of gendered violence and patriarchy, and the attitudes we hold about women who struggle with drinking.

Think about female alcoholics in media. If she’s young, she’s a loose, reckless sl*t looking for trouble and deserving of the reality check when she finds it (Amy Schumer in Trainwreck, Lindsay Lohan in general). Or if the woman are older, they are discarded, or gross, or pathetic, or evil like anyone Faye Dunaway played or Eminem’s mom in 8 Mile (deep cut lol). Men are afforded a much larger spectrum of experiences and struggles - Ernest Hemingway, Leaving Las Vegas, Sideways, the dude from A Star is Born, Frank from Shameless (brilliant), frat boys, blue collar workers, introspective tortured artists, fucking IRON MAN. I could go on forever, but I hope that illustrates the depth and diversity of male-centric stories of alcoholism not often afforded to women.

One of the most empathetic and accurate portrayals of female alcoholism, in my opinion, is in the show Sharp Objects (the book, too, but actually witnessing it makes a difference). We see Amy Adams’ Camille swig vodka from an Evian bottle while fending off vicious, veiled attacks from her verbally and emotionally abusive mother and experiencing flashbacks of teenage sexual assault. We watch her struggle to find emotional safety in her conservative hometown, both wanting to fit in and get out in order to survive. We GET why she drinks and I have trouble blaming her for it even as she wreaks havoc on herself and others. We can see her clawing just to make it out alive, and alcohol is the tool she’s using to do it, for better or worse.

Which is where Nesta enters the chat. When we get our first glimpse of her alcohol use is ACOFAS, it’s portrayed as something everyone knows about but that she’s still mostly keeping it together - her dress is clean, her hair is neatly braided, she doesn’t need a chaperone to show up to a family event. The deterioration between ACOFAS and ACOSF is alarming, and we know that alcoholism is a progressive condition so that tends to happen. Was there a particular trigger? That’s hard to say. Solstice certainly didn’t help, especially with the pressures to perform and conform to the standards of the Inner Circle aka the people in power. I imagine seeing her sisters bouncey and reveling in the world that stole them and killed their father was probably.. tough, to say the least. The barge party seems to be a turning point as well, though this one is more confusing to me. But given the child abuse, extreme poverty, sexual assault, kidnapping, bodily violation, witnessing her father’s murder, almost dying, WAR - and that’s not even to mention essentially becoming a refugee - it would be amazing if she DIDN’T drink. She 100% has complex trauma, and is looking for ways to cope.

No one with full capacity dreams of becoming an addict when they grow up. Addiction, in my professional and personal experience, is largely a strategy for coping with a deeper wound. People don’t drink to feel bad. They drink to feel good, and to survive. Nesta herself is drinking to survive, but it’s having the unfortunate side effect of killing her at the same time. As she slides into active addiction, the thought of her own death may even be comforting, and alcohol in that way is her friend. (There's some interesting research right now framing addiction as an attachment disorder, but I don't know enough to speak on it much.)

So she obviously needs help. That’s not a debate. What is a debate is how the IC should best go about intervening. A variation on the Johnson method is used in ACOSF (the one from the show Intervention) and appears to be successful only because they threaten her if she doesn’t comply. This method has mixed data to support it, and while it’s very good at getting people into tx, there is a higher relapse rate for those who receive it (1). The “family” gathers and tells her the ways she’s hurt them and tell her the consequences if she doesn’t seek the help they’re offering. And again, so many of their reason are the effects on THEM, how she’s making THEM look, not her pain.

The IC’s ignorance and dismissal of her alcoholism in ACOSF is frankly mystifying. Why do they intervene on all the drinking and sexing, anyway? It seems like they’ve been fine enough with it up to this point. But now it's gone too far, not because of her illness but because she is embarrassing them. And I don’t know about you, but between Cassian apparently fucking half of Velaris and Mor’s heavily documented emotional drinking, that’s hard to square. It makes it feel much more likely that they don’t like the way she is coping, that she is not fitting into their picture of who she’s supposed to be. This picture is inherently gendered, because Prythian society and those who live in it have explicit and implicit expectations of gender roles, whether they’ll admit it or not. Cassian and Mor are playing their roles well; Nesta is not.

That leads me to believe it is NOT all about her, but the systemic and internal factors influencing their perception of her and the ways she’s struggling. It’s distasteful to them for her, a female, to be deteriorating this publicly, despite the fact that her very identity makes it harder for her to function in the patriarchy of Prythian. We hear almost exclusively about sexual violence against women, aside from 2 male characters. Past or present assault of women is a major plot point on multiple occasions (Mor, Gwyn, Nesta, Emerie, Rhysands mom and sister, the lady of autumn, Cassians mom, Azriels mom, I could go on). But something about the way Nesta is contending with that is unacceptable, and I believe it’s because she’s not trying to cover up her dysfunction. In prythian, we keep these things hidden- Mor’s assault is never processed in full, Azriel’s mom seems to be alone at Rosehall, priestesses are literally hidden inside a mountain for centuries. Women process trauma alone and in the dark, but Nesta is in the light and she is loud. She is refusing to hide her problems, and the IC don’t like that, whether they realize it or not.

So why don’t the IC understand this? Like I said earlier, as a culture we hate addicts, or what they stand for, in very much the same way I think we hate people experiencing homelessness. We convince ourselves it was a series of bad choices that led someone where they are, choices we would never make because we are smart, smarter than them. We believe are more in control than that. We can prevent bad things from happening to us because we are good, because we are better than whoever it’s happening to. But the reality is almost ALL of us are one hospital stay away from homelessness, just as all of us are one trauma away from addiction. And with female addicts, we have another layer of expecting women to only struggle nicely and quietly, or to go away. Intersectional factors are at play here, too: white women are much more likely to have alcoholism attributed to mental health and trauma factors, where people of color often suffer the same addiction being more associated with crime. You can imagine how that plays out differently.

So what is the effect of all this? Gendered expectations lead to not only external stigma around addiction and tx, but also to internalized stigma which can limit willingness to seek tx. (2) Many social forces encourage women to drink and discourage them from telling anyone. Factors such as poverty, family planning, access to education, racial discrimination, and location can make services harder to access. Internally, women are more likely to enter treatment with less confidence in their ability to succeed, but report more strengths and more potential to grow recovery strengths during and following tx. For men, the pattern is reversed (3). And women have more successful tx episodes overall when gendered considerations are a part of the design and implementation of services (4). For Nesta, the effect is that she’s forced into treatment and copes by having hate sex with her ex and changing herself to conform to her family’s expectations while the House and the Valkyrie’s actually take care of her. I do not see how Sarah drew the line from there to recovery, I truly don’t. If anything, she recovers in spite of the ICs intervention, not because of it.

In summary, Nesta Archeron deserved better. Nesta deserved the same compassion the book gives to men who are struggling, and it’s a reflection of not just the book’s culture but the author’s culture that she doesn’t get it. Female alcoholics are worthy of treatment that integrates their identities, as those identities are often essential factors contributing to their addiction. What's shown in ACOSF is a reality many women live, and they shouldn't have to.

Barry Loneck, James A. Garrett & Steven M Banks (1996) The Johnson Intervention and Relapse During Outpatient Treatment, The American Journal of Drug and Alcohol Abuse, 22:3, 363-375, DOI: 10.3109/00952999609001665

Groshkova T, Best D, White W. The Assessment of Recovery Capital: Properties and psychometrics of a measure of addiction recovery strengths. Drug Alcohol Rev. 2013;32(2):187–94.

Best D, Vanderplasschen W, Nisic M. Measuring capital in active addiction and recovery: the development of the strengths and barriers recovery scale (SABRS). Subst Abuse Treat, Prev Policy. 2020;15(1):1–8.

Polak, K., Haug, N.A., Drachenberg, H.E. et al. Gender Considerations in Addiction: Implications for Treatment. Curr Treat Options Psych 2, 326–338 (2015). https://doi.org/10.1007/s40501-015-0054-5

[pewpewkachuuboo]

People reacted really well to radioapple, so here’s another few short short drabbles of those two with some huskerdust sprinkled in because they’re so good it hurts my heart- I really appreciate the likes and reblogs 😭 I wanted to just have some slice of life style interactions because I love the idea of them being besties at least end game (every spicy scorpio needs their charismatic libra bestie - idc what their signs actually are this is my headcannon and I will not be swayed).

Working on a few long form works with actual plot lmao - I want to get a few chapters in before I post because I don’t like the idea of not posting weekly updates to long form. I’m having so much fun, ya’ll. I really needed a creative outlet 😭 I missed writing so much.

—

-Alastor discovers romance novels-

Angel Dust was draped across one of the sofas in the hotel lobby with a book open in his top set of hands while petting a sleeping Fat Nuggets with his bottom set, the pink pig curled up at his abdomen.

The lanky man’s fingers were quick to turn the pages as his eyes scanned the pages, his tongue sticking out slightly from concentration.

(Husk was watching thoughtlessly, a wistful smile on his face as he rested his cheek in one paw while the other wiped in lazy circles around the bar counter, but he would never admit the lopsided smile was for the spider if he even realized he was doing it at any point.)

“Why, Angel, I had no idea you were literate.”

Alastor’s static voice broke Angel Dust out of his trance - he jumped higher than intended, scaring Fat Nuggets who ran to the bar for shelter (Husk panicked at the voice, but his demeanor went back to his usual disinterested face after Fat Nuggets dove for his feet). Angel Dust’s face had a soft pink tint, “Are ya kiddin? I can read. I’m dumb but I ain’t stupid.”

Alastor tutted, “That makes no sense, dear.” Angel opened his mouth to retort but Alastor cocked his head to the side at an unsettling angle as he interrupted the attempt making Angel bite his tongue instead, “What are we indulging in? Hemingway, perhaps? Maybe some James Joyce?”

“Who?” Angel Dust didn’t miss a beat, smiling slightly when he saw Alastor’s eye twitch, “I don’t read that old timey shit - this is…” he paused before telling him the author, a grin spreading devilishly across his face, “This is one of ta best novels to come out in years according to the reviews.” He motioned to the pile spread out beside him, “If you like ta read you’re more than welcome ta borrow one.”

Alastor made a noise in consideration before picking up one of the books with two of his fingers like he was afraid to get bitten, “I would hate to discourage you picking up good habits, and I do miss a harrowing tale.”

Angel Dust crossed his long legs, “Oh, they’re harrowing alright.”

Alastor raised an eye brow in suspicion, but moved to hold the book regularly, “Well, then, don’t mind if I do indulge in some entertainment. Thank you, Angel Dust.”

Alastor disappeared into his shadows and Angel Dust grinned at Husk, “Wanna bet on reactions when he gets to the steamy parts?”

Husk’s mouth quirked in another half smile as he sighed out a laugh, “I do love to gamble.”

A few hours later, Angel Dusk had moved to the bar and was laughing at one of Husk’s stories from when he was alive before he received a sharp thump to the back of his head as Alastor appeared and had slapped the spider demon with the borrowed book. Angel growled, rubbing the place of impact, “What the fuck-“

“You just tricked me into reading some very inappropriate content.” Alastor mused, laying the book on the bar top, “Never do that again if you know what’s good for you.”

Angel huffed, handing Husker a crisp twenty as Alastor turned on his foot to leave, “Whateva, you probably liked it.”

“Ha Ha Ha - no.”

Angel Dust stuck his tongue out at Husk who was grinning from his win, but they both turned just in time to see Alastor pick up another book from the pile before disappearing again.

The spider looked back at Husk, eyebrows raised, “Wait, gimme the $20 back - I told you aces usually love smut if it’s a book, watching and reading are different than doin and I FUCKIN WON.”

Husk growled lowly, handing him the bill back before fishing another twenty from his tip jar and handing it over, “Fuck, I hate when you’re right.”

Angel Dust laughed evilly and made an effort to just leave his novels around the hotel to see if any would get picked up - and they usually did.

—

-Lucifer tries to lead one of Charlie’s lessons-

Lucifer looked over the hotel patrons one by one before taking in a deep breath and letting it out, “Today we are going to talk about and learn about unconscious bias and random acts of kindness.”

He tried not to linger on Alastor’s form for longer than needed because that fucking smile made his blood boil and he had promised Charlie that he would take this seriously and her sparkling, expectant glare was putting more pressure on him than he had thought it would and he HAD to get this right or Charlie would never ask him to help again (probably).

“Unconscious bias is when you make assumptions about someone you don’t know without realizing based on things that you learned as you’ve been a conscious being. For example, most men here in hell probably assume that women are only capable in traditional wife roles and will treat women as less powerful or threatening as a result.” He pointed the apple at the tip of his cane in the direction of the women in the room, “All of our lovely ladies are obviously very powerful and would not adhere to that stereotype, but when someone assumes they are weak because they are women, we call that an unconscious bias because it happens without that person realizing.” He cleared his throat, “Does anyone have another example?”

Angel Dust raised his hand and then tapped his chin thoughtfully when Lucifer motioned for him to share, “Well, people think I’m a woman cus I have tits. Is that right?”

Lucifer’s eye twitched, “Well… kind of, not quite.” He hummed thoughtfully, “When people think of you, they think of your career in adult films, right?”

“Ya.”

“Okay, Husk, what is something that you assumed about Angel Dust because of that career that he’s proved you wrong in getting to know him?”

Husk’s jaw went slack and his cheeks turned a soft pink, “M-me?”

“Yes- the two of you seem to be good friends, so I assume you have an example.”

Angel Dust smirked, “C’mon, Kitty Cat - tell me what you’ve learned about me.”

Husk sighed and stayed quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, “I had assumed that because he’s an actor that he was fake, but what I perceived as fake was a shield and he’s actually one of the most genuinely kind people I’ve ever met.”

Alastor cocked his head at this and Angel Dust was silent -face unreadable. Both were making him increasingly uncomfortable so he stuttered out a, “H-he’s still annoying as hell, though.”

Lucifer clapped his hands together, “Amazing! That’s a great example!” He looked to Charlie and Vaggie as Charlie excitedly waved her hands in the air chanting me next several times before Lucifer motioned for his daughter to share.

“I made assumptions about Vaggie when we met! I assumed she was a demon because we met in an alley and then I assumed that Adam would help us because angels are supposed to be good but he was an asshole!” She ranted and chirped excitedly for a few more moments, and once she had finished she grinned up at him, “Do you have unconscious bias?”

Lucifer nodded his head thoughtfully, “Everyone has unconscious bias.”

Charlie made an ‘O’ with her mouth before she scanned the room and pointed at Alastor, “What unconscious bias did you have against Alastor?”

Lucifer’s eye twitched in irritation, looking to the radio demon whose eyes narrowed in curiosity. After a few minutes Lucifer sighed, “I assumed he was a psychopath with ill intentions. I still think he’s insane, but… he has protected you all and I think that means he doesn’t have the illest of intentions.”

Alastor’s grin widened, “Why, thank you sir! I’m tickled to know you care to notice.”

Charlie’s eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together, “Wow! This is so great!”

Lucifer moved his neck to pop it from the uncomfortable feelings he just had to experience. Complimenting Alastor was exhausting. “Now, random acts of kindness. This is when you want to thank someone or see someone that needs help, you go out of your way to assist them. It doesn’t have to be life saving - for example, to thank you all for coming today I have brought you all a….” He reached into his coat and threw yellow objects at the group with a grin, “rubber duck!!”

He let them pick up the ducks before he continued, “These are important to me, and all of you are also important to me and so I am giving you a gift to reflect that. Another example would be giving a beggar some change, buying food for someone who can’t afford it themselves, or even just listening when you see someone get emotional that seems like they need company.” He popped his knuckles, “Your assignment is to go and perform a random act of kindness and report back with what you did, why, and how it made you feel.” He lifted his arms and created a wind to blow the material of his coat behind him as well as open the front doors to the hotel dramatically, “Go! Randomly be kind! I’ll be waiting!”

The first to return after being released was Alastor. He held out a bag to Lucifer, who looked at the offering with high suspicion, “I have brought you a gift to show your importance in the hotel.”

“Is it poisoned?”

Alastor chuckled, “No, sir, this is a genuine gift.”

Still suspicious of the radio demon, Lucifer carefully held the bag at a distance. Once free of the bag, Alastor bowed at his waist, hand on his chest, “I have some other matters to attend to, so a bid you adieu for now. Have a swell afternoon, your highness.”

Once the shadow disappeared, Lucifer carefully opened the bag with the tips of his fingers. He was surprised, however, that the item in the bag was a weirdly large rubber duck that had been colored to look like an imp. Lucifer narrowed his eyes and took the duck out, not sure if he should be thankful or wonder if it being an imp implied that he was less than Alastor. But it was cute….

He studied the red duck for a moment before smiling, moving to take it to his tower to place with the rest of the collection.

—

-radioapple does coffee-

The cafe the two sat in was quaint and silent, aside from the bustle of the barista as the small imp moved to clean the counters spotlessly while there was a lull in customers. The walls were a soft purple, and large white daisies decorated the walls randomly while the floor was occupied by black tables and chairs for patrons to sit in.

Lucifer had his legs crossed and eyes closed as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips with a grace that only someone of royal lineage could hold.

Alastor was sitting opposite the king of hell, humming as he tipped his own cup to his lips.

The silence that hung between them was comfortable for once, not angry or awkward like it was normally at the hotel.

Lucifer opened his eyes slowly to look up at Alastor’s permanently perfect smile, flashing one of his own, “If I had known you were a tea and coffee connoisseur we may have gotten along sooner.”

Alastor chuckled, “Sir, if that’s all it would have taken I would have brought it up as soon as you had stepped into our lowly hotel.”

The shorter male made an amused sound at the thought, “What ifs aside, we probably would have gotten over it eventually. I will say, I’m still not sure of your true intentions with my daughter and her friends, but I do approve of you keeping them safe and also of us doing this weekly - I’ve never had a coffee friend before.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow, “Friend, sir?”

Lucifer shrugged and took another sip of his coffee, letting the silence settle over them again.

Alastor’s voice box crackled before he made a new suggestion, “A dear friend of mine is the leader of Cannibal Town - they have a rather tasty and aesthetic cafe out there, we should make that the destination for next week.”

Lucifer’s eyes brightened, “Ah, Rosie? I haven’t seen her since the extermination before last - and it’s been centuries since I’ve been to Cannibal Town. It would be nice to say hello again! Let’s make that the plan, then.”

The two sat in comfortable silence as they enjoyed decent company and good coffee.

[plussizefantasia]

Cozy Corner

Flufftober Day 5: Book Shop

Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: I loved writing this one. I love Austen and you can absolutely tell haha. I feel like I probably should have said this before but I don't have a beta reader, any mistakes are my own. (if you want to be a beta reader for me let me know) Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

Your favorite part of living in New York was the fact that you could find pretty much any kind of store you could ever think of, and it would only be a short walk and a subway ride away. Take your favorite bookstore, Cozy Corner. The owner was an older woman who had introduced herself as Martha to you within the first few minutes of your first visit. Martha had been a librarian at an elementary school in Brooklyn for 45 years before she decided that she wanted to open her store.

You had stumbled upon this place by accident. You had been looking for a new store to buy books from when you had decided that the huge Barnes and Noble in the city was way too hard for you to navigate. So you went for a walk and decided to see if you could find a small one on your path.

You had, and it turned out to be one of the best things to happen to you since you moved into the city. You could spend hours of your day here, lounging in the plush chairs that sit by Martha’s front window, reading whatever new books she had gotten. She keeps bringing you mugs of coffee, and you're not exactly sure where they come from given that she doesn't sell coffee but you’re grateful for it anyway. 

Your favorite way to spend your day had become reading at the store, and the other regular that you have seen come in increasing frequency is just a bonus. At least that is what you tell Martha when she asks you what you think of the handsome man who keeps smiling at you without ever saying anything.

He is nice to look at, you won’t deny that. He’s tall and lithe and has an aura of confidence and power that you can’t seem to forget. Martha tells you he’s a fan of the classics, that he’s bought a copy of every Hemingway that she has in stock and she’s sure that the two of you would get along. You don’t know if she just wants to matchmake or if she genuinely thinks the two of you would get along but you don’t have the heart to tell her that you don’t think it’ll work out. 

He’s gorgeous and intimidating and everything you’d want in a man but is too afraid to go for. Luckily you don’t have to muster up the confidence to speak to him, he speaks to you first.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks gesturing to the only other plush chair in the store. It doesn’t exactly match the one that you’re sat in but it doesn’t take away from the ambiance in the room at all. 

You’re taken aback by his request but still manage to nod your assent. He’s never stayed this long before. Usually, he just comes in and presses the stacks for an hour or so before making a purchase and smiling at you as he leaves. Today he seems inclined to sit and start his newest purchase right away.

“Loki,” he says and reaches his hand out for you to shake. You do and give him your name in response. You don’t try to continue the conversation beyond that, afraid to interrupt Loki’s reading. He however doesn’t seem to have any qualms with conversation.

“Haven’t you read that before?” He references the semi-battered copy of Pride and Prejudice in your hands. You’re stunned by his observational skills and you admit to yourself, also a little flattered.

“It’s my favorite Austen novel. I read it at least three times a year.” You admit, pulling the book closer to your chest. You move it closer to your heart.

“I’m partial to Persuasion myself but I enjoy all of Austen’s work,” he replies and fully closes and puts down his book. It’s a leatherbound copy of Crime and Punishment, you remember reading it for a college literature class and are excited to be able to talk to him about something else.

You don’t even realize how long the two of you are talking until Martha rounds the corner with a sheepish expression on her face.

“I hate to interrupt you two but it’s time to close.” You take a glance at the clock and are surprised at how late it’s gotten. But what catches your eye is the fact that technically the shop should’ve closed two hours ago.

‘Martha!” you exclaimed “Why on earth did you let us stay for so long?” You quickly stand and go to collect your things grabbing the book on the table in front of you without really looking. Loki moves to the same. Martha tuts at you, “I was going to, but I saw how wonderfully you two were getting along and I didn’t want to stop you.” 

Your chest swells with affection for the older woman and you fondly shake your head at her. “Well next time feel free to interrupt, you don't have to stay open just for us.”

‘Next time?” Loki asks and you turn to him.

“Yeah, unless you don’t want to continue our riveting conversation on philosophy in fiction?” You ask teasingly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. You thought the conversation was going well but now you worry that maybe he didn’t think the same.

“I’d be delighted to.” He tells you “But I also believe that it is much past our dear Martha’s bedtime and we should postpone our discussion for at least a few hours.” He smirks and looks towards the woman. She takes the cue and goes to collect the rest of her belongings so that the three of you can leave and she can lock up the store behind you.

With your jacket on, ready to face the slight fall chill that permeates the late-night New York air you step out of the comfort of the store. You turn to Loki and wish him a good night before making your way down the street and towards your apartment. 

It isn’t until you get back to your palace and unpack your bag that you realize you’ve grabbed the wrong book. You smile without meaning to, it seems you have another reason to see Loki again soon.

[donutwatches]

MHA 2.13 - Time to Pick Some Names - part 2

Because I didn’t have enough character names to remember already. Let’s add a dozen new names to remember. Ha. 

I do not know what I was expecting, but it was not this, lol. I love our french disco dancing queen. He said, I’m not going to have a measly hero name, I am going to have a FULL sentence!

Oh man, I wish Midnight would let her keep the Alien Queen name. That is way more fitting than Pinky. She should at least have a name connected to acid. Pinky is a lazy name. Like, she’s pink, big whoop. 

Who is Crimson? I guess this is a pro that our Kirishima looks up to. Red Riot might be my favorite out of the kids hero names. 

Kaminari is the last character I would expect to drop a Hemingway reference. Even though the joke about him is always that he is brainless, isn’t this proof that he has some smarts? 

Wow, Earphone never lets him breath, huh. Such school girl crush behavior. 

I am guessing that he wants distance from the Todoroki name because of his butthole father. I like it! Simple, but it feels like he is being himself. 

THIS IS THE CUTEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN. I WILL NEVER RECOVER.

I feel like we already got that Deku would be Midoriya’s hero name since season 1, but it still feels like a full circle moment. I love the idea of him taking a name that was an insult and flipping it into something uplifting. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Why is he like this? I swear. It is great that he changed it from “King” to “Lord” as if the issue with the name was the status title and not, you know, the murder part. 

Hmmm, so this mysterious mustard yellow cloaked man is All Might’s teacher. I hope he is a better teacher than All Might because Deku needs some help. 

Nooooooooooooo! So ominous! It is wrong to see Iida with vengeance in his eyes like this. Talk to your friends! Please don’t go out on your own and get your self hurt! I just know nothing good can come out of this. Nerd rage should never be fooked with! 

Click here for episode 14

Click here for the master list.

[oddmawd]

I was trying to write before and it’s didn’t turn out good and I just stop writing and it don’t take practice you just have to be good at writing the first time you do it that is my opinion tho

i'm gonna assume you're like...12 years old...because there's no way an adult would be able to type that with a straight face

i'm not about to coddle you and give you a happy little pep-talk about ✨believing in yourself✨ after the way you treated that author...calling them a "bitch" because they don't PANDER TO YOUR SPECIFIC TASTES was a bully tactic and you should be ashamed of yourself

FURTHERMORE using a gendered insult like "bitch" and then demanding they write you a male reader insert story (while insulting female/gender neutral inserts in the same breath) is misogynistic as hell, i don't feel even the littlest bit sorry for you, so save the "woe is me, i can't write" bullshit for someone who gives a damn

but let me give you something to chew on while you throw yourself a pity-party about "not being good at writing" and pretend that gives you the right to bully people who actually TRY to be good writers:

Do Olympic athletes show up winning gold medals without ever setting foot on the practice field?

Do painters show up to their first class knowing how to use oil paints and watercolors and how to hold a brush effectively?

Did Hemingway roll out of the womb and write The Old Man and the Sea without writing a single damn thing beforehand?

no, they didn't...every writer you love wrote some SHITTY first drafts they didn't share with anyone because they sucked first (in private!) and THEN got good (in public)....and they got good by showing up and failing and trying again, and failing again and trying again and FAILING AGAIN (because that's what practicing is!!!!) until they finally started succeeding regularly...

UNLIKE YOUR CLOWN ASS THAT RAN AWAY SCARED WHEN YOUR FIRST STORY DIDN'T TURN OUT PERFECT

i'm not gonna take the easy road here and point out how fucking LAZY you sound when you say you tried once and gave up, because that's a cheap fucking shot and way too easy (you set me up so badly bro, like c'mon)

what i'm gonna do instead is point out that you just admitted that you were too fucking scared to try more than once

"BOO HOO, i wrote something, it was shitty, i was scared of what people might say and then i gave the fuck up" - you, probably

and that's the difference between we "lazy bitch" reader insert writers who actually post our work, and you: we show up and we TRY, every goddamn day, and we put ourselves out there despite the risk of being bullied by people like you who can't be bothered to try more than once

do you know what writing is, at its most fundamental level? it's showing your work to people and saying "please read this and enjoy it, i worked really hard," and PRAYING they don't tear your hard work apart for no reason at all, but that's what YOU did! you saw someone writing something they enjoyed and went "fuck you, i don't care that you labored and practiced for weeks and months, it wasn't to MY TASTES and therefore you're a lazy bitch," and you're apparently so un-selfaware that you don't realize the irony of YOU, a person who can't be bothered to try writing more than once, A) calling someone lazy, and B) demanding they spend their time/expertise to write something just for widdle ol' you, in the same breath

do you not fucking hear yourself????? huh?????

you tried writing ONCE and found out it was too hard for you, so now your answer is to bully writers and make demands of them? when you should know through your ONE attempt how difficult writing must be?

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK BRO?

you should never message a writer again with your demands when you can't even be bothered to live up to your own standards, you entitled tone-deaf hypocrite

writing takes courage, and you have ✨N O N E✨

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

It Started With a Kiss (3/?)

Thanks to everyone for reading and leaving reviews on this story thus far! I know a lot of you are frustrated and screaming for her to just make her choice already, but Kate Beckett is a complex woman, and it’s complicated, lol. There is a difference between knowing what you really want and going for it, despite its potential to wreck you, and staying with the safe choice, especially for a woman with Kate’s emotional baggage. Be patient, there will be a payoff! I’m pro-Caskett…you NEVER have to question who Beckett will end up with eventually in my stories; it's simply a matter of the journey for her to get there.

This chapter is based on the episode “The Final Nail” and takes place a week after the previous chapter. Just a reminder, I am following the same basic outline of the show with regard to cases and episodes, so imagine everything happening in the episodes that you’ve seen, with the only changes being my alternate or added scenes.

I still don’t own anything from Castle.

xxxxx

Beckett was waiting for him outside of the Westlake house. This entire case had been difficult for him; when Castle really believed in someone, he believed in them with his entire being. Finding out someone who had been so important to him, who he had put so much unwavering faith in was a killer took its toll. She knew he had to be devastated. That’s why she was here–not to rub it in his face or to arrest Damian herself…in fact, she had made sure she was not the arresting detective on record…but to support her friend, her partner. “‘Show me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy.’ F. Scott Fitzgerald said that.”

Castle gave her a sad look as he came down the steps. “It must’ve been Ernest Hemingway who said, ‘Man, I sure could use a drink right about now.’” His tone was deflated.

She gave him a small smile. “Lead the way. I’m buying,” she gave a small gesture with her shoulder.

Her offer shocked him slightly, but he started down the street anyway; it may have shocked him, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Shouldn’t you be at a nice candlelit restaurant wearing a new dress ordering surf and turf?” He refused to add with your boyfriend. He didn’t need to think about that.

“I’ve got a couple of hours. You okay?” she asked, falling into step alongside him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he insisted.

She knew better. “Liar,” she said with a playful nudge of her shoulder to his as they walked.

He sighed. “I just can’t believe my trust in him was misplaced all this time,” he shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “You were right about him this whole time. I should’ve trusted you. And I owe you an apology.”

She shook her head. “You don’t owe me an apology. I wasn’t right about him killing his wife. In fact, your belief in him was the reason we caught the real killer,” she told him softly. “And for the record, I didn’t want to be right about him,” she added, placing her hand on his arm gently as they stopped at a crosswalk.

“We caught the real killer because you continued to dig and look for the truth, even though you were convinced Damian was behind her murder.”

“Like I told him…you believed in him. And I believe in you,” she replied softly, meeting his eyes for a moment. When the light at the crosswalk changed, she let her hand drop from his arm and began crossing.

It took him an extra second to process her words coupled with the look in her eyes and the fact that her hand had been on his arm...because they didn't touch like that...before he followed her.

xxxxx

Castle hadn’t even paid attention to the name of the bar he’d led her into; it was just the first one he’d seen that didn’t look like a dive as they had been walking. Now he sat on a stool at the bar, looking into his glass of Scotch silently.

Beckett had situated her stool a little closer to him than usual, her body turned slightly so that she was open and facing toward him. She took a drink of her beer, allowing the silence to settle as she studied him. She knew better than anyone that sometimes just sitting in companionable silence was better than talking, so she was hardly the one to push him for conversation before he was ready.

“Thank you for everything you did for me on this case,” he finally stated, taking a drink of the alcohol in his glass. He meant it. She’d handled him gently when she’d had the boys bring in Damian. Before she’d interrogated him, she’d been understanding and soft as she reminded Castle he wasn’t going to want to be in the interrogation room when she took his friend apart. When she’d arrested him, she’d brought in a uniform to place the handcuffs and pull him out of the room instead of doing it herself; she didn’t have to do any of it that way, but she had in order to try to lessen the blow of it all, and he appreciated it. “I was less than objective, and you didn’t have to let me stay.”

She offered him a smile. “You’re my partner…even when you were being less than objective,” she shrugged. He may not have been objective, but after she had let him back on the case, he hadn’t interfered. If he had, she would have kicked him off the case for good; but she had

definitely given him a little more leeway than she would have given someone else. And she of all people knew how difficult it was to find out someone you’d believed in wasn’t who you thought they were; he’d been by her side last fall when she’d had to arrest Royce.

Her words brought a genuine smile to his face. “Still…thank you.” He was quiet for another moment as his smile faltered a little. “I guess I’m not as good at judging a person’s character as I thought.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. I told you…the version of Damian you knew was the version a homesick little boy needed him to be. I don’t think anyone would fault you for clinging to that; I certainly don’t,” she started, lightly resting her hand over his. “People change, Castle, and they only let us see what they want us to see. I know all too well about misplaced trust in old friends,” she said softly, taking a drink of her beer. “It doesn’t mean your judgment is flawed. You know…I actually wish I were a little more like you.” Seeing his questioning look, she continued. “You’re able to trust so easily, you always see the best in people…” she trailed off with a shrug. “I’ve been a cop too long to do either of those things. I can count on one hand the number of people I have complete, blind trust in, and I’m sure you’ve noticed I don’t exactly see the best in people or situations.”

He gave a soft chuckle at that. “Maybe I should adopt your strategy. It would let me avoid looking like an idiot when my blind trust in someone is misplaced.”

She shook her head. “Don’t. You’re an optimist, Castle…that’s who you are. Don’t let what Damian did destroy that part of you,” she told him seriously. “I like that about you…sometimes I need your optimism. Your silver linings remind me that there’s still hope and light out there. Some days I really need that,” she admitted.

Before he could respond, her phone chimed to signal a text. Seeing her frown slightly as she read it, he raised an eyebrow. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah. Josh is just stuck at the hospital tonight,” she answered, taking another swig of her beer. “No surf and turf this Valentine’s Day,” she made a joke from his earlier words. She realized she should probably be upset that her boyfriend had just canceled their romantic dinner plans a couple of hours before they were supposed to take place, but she honestly felt more relief than anything, and she knew that didn’t bode well for their relationship. He’d been out of the country for a month; she should have been excited to spend the evening and night with him, upset that he’d canceled again, but she just…wasn’t, at least not really.

He studied her for a moment, trying to gauge how upset she was over her plans being canceled. She seemed a little perturbed, but not overly sad. “Well…it’s not surf and turf, but can I tempt you with burgers and shakes at Remy’s?” he suggested cautiously, just in case she was more upset than she was letting on.

She raised an eyebrow slightly, considering his invitation. She wasn’t sure she should agree to dinner with him on Valentine’s Day of all days. There was definitely something more than friendship between them…enough that agreeing to his suggestion could potentially be dangerous considering the lines that had occasionally blurred between them during the last few weeks, first with that undercover kiss, then with his confession that she had simply shrugged off to too much alcohol at the time, then with their undercover date at the club a week ago. On the other hand, burgers and shakes from Remy’s were hardly romantic, and he’d had a really difficult day. Would keeping him company so neither of them had to be alone really be the worst way to spend the holiday? “Sure, Castle. Why not?” she agreed.

He genuinely smiled at that. Sure, she wasn’t his girlfriend, and it wasn’t a romantic dinner, but he still got to spend Valentine’s Day with Kate Beckett. After this whole Damian Westlake case, it seemed that the universe was doing him a solid.

xxxxx

They had stopped by the precinct so Kate could grab her things. She’d decided to hold off on finishing the paperwork on the Westlake case until the following morning before Castle showed up. She didn’t need him looking over her shoulder as she finished processing everything. They’d opted to walk the few blocks to Remy’s and were now seated in a familiar booth with their mostly eaten burgers and shakes in front of them.

“Can I ask you a question?” Castle asked her seriously.

She arched an eyebrow, setting her shake back on the table and resting her forearms on the flat surface. “Since when do you ask permission to ask me anything?” she pointed out.

She definitely had a valid point; he typically just asked her whatever was on his mind and it was her decision whether or not she would answer it...and how irritated she would be that he asked whatever it was. “Earlier at the bar…you said you could count on one hand the people you trust completely.”

Ah, she understood where this question was going. He wanted to know who she had that much trust in. “My dad, obviously. Montgomery. Espo. Ryan. Lanie. And you,” she answered him easily.

“Me?” he was a little surprised by that answer. He’d obviously hoped to be on the list, and he knew she trusted him to a point, but he hadn’t realized he had earned that level of trust from her. He also couldn’t help but be pleased Josh’s name was not on the list.

“You,” she nodded, suddenly a little more interested in the fries left on her plate that meeting his eyes. “You’re my partner. Even when you annoy the hell out of me, you always have my back,

you always back my play. You are the only person I’ve ever shown every detail of my mom’s case to, the one I trust to stop me before I fall back down the rabbit hole, the person I want with me when I take down whoever is behind it,” she explained, knowing that she wouldn’t have to tell him anything else beyond the fact he’s the only person she trusts with her mother’s case; that alone would completely explain the level of trust she placed in him.

Her admission shocked him enough that he didn’t know what to say for once. “Wow. I…uh…I’m honored,” he finally managed.

“You’ve earned my trust,” she told him honestly. “I mean it when I say, you are my partner.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, the air between them growing thick with the unspoken tension. “You know, technically you listed 6 people. So…that’s really 2 hands, and not 1…” he finally broke the moment with a little humor to lighten the mood.

She rolled her eyes. “I can just kick you off the list,” she teased. “You are the most recent addition.” But they both knew she wouldn’t, not unless he broke her trust. And that was something he was going to do everything in his power to keep from doing. Her trust was too valuable, too hard-earned; once it was gone, he wouldn't be getting it back.

“You know, now that I think about it, Ryan and Espo are kind of a package deal…they only count as one. So you’re right…one hand,” he chuckled.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking her head. “I’m going to make sure they know you said that.”

As they were walking back to the precinct after dinner so Beckett could get her car, they passed by a man with a table set up on the sidewalk selling long-stem roses as a last-minute offering for Valentine’s Day. Castle, of course, stopped to purchase some, for his mother and daughter she assumed. But then he offered her one of the single, long stems with a smile.

“I’m allowed to give my partner one rose for Valentine’s Day, right?” he asked her.

A shy smile spread across her lips, and she was careful not to prick her fingers on the thorns as she took the stem from him. “Thank you.” Her own boyfriend hadn’t even sent her flowers for the holiday, and here was Castle, giving her a single red rose. Not that she was the type to overly care about receiving roses…or flowers in general…on Valentine’s Day, but the gesture was nice. “Can I give you a ride home?” she offered as they got back to her car.

“You don’t have to. I’m like, 20 blocks in the opposite…” he started to decline.

“Castle, get in the car,” she interrupted him, rolling her eyes.

xxxxx

The ride to his loft was made in comfortable silence. “You want to come up? Alexis should still be out with Ashley, and I operate under a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy with Mother, but I’d be willing to bet she’s got plans of some kind. I can offer you wine…” he offered. Realizing how it may have sounded by offering her wine, he quickly added, “Or I can make you coffee.” He didn’t want her to think it was a romantic offer.

She thought about it for a moment before turning off her car. “I can come up for a bit,” she decided. It’s not like she was currently in a rush to get back to her apartment to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day alone.

“So, coffee? Or wine?” he asked once they were inside.

“Well, I’d prefer to be able to relax and not be so wired when I get home, so wine,” she answered with a small smile.

“Right,” he nodded. He placed the roses for his mother and daughter on the kitchen island and moved to get a bottle of red wine and a couple of glasses before gesturing to the couch to get comfortable.

She sat on one end of the couch, slipping her shoes off before curling up on it. “Thanks,” she smiled once more as she accepted the glass from him, taking a drink.

“You’re welcome,” he took a seat on the opposite end, making sure there was the entire middle couch cushion between them. He turned so that he could comfortably face her.

“So Alexis’s first Valentine’s Day with Ashley, hmm?” she asked him with a smile.

He gave a soft laugh. “Yeah. Should I be worried?” he asked her.

She shrugged with a smile. “Probably not. Alexis is the most responsible kid on the planet, so I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not her I worry about. It’s the teenage boy with her.”

She laughed into her glass as she took another drink of her wine. “Says the man who still acts like a teenage boy sometimes.”

He nodded. “So you understand why I’m worried.”

“Castle, it’s Valentine’s Day, not prom. Relax,” she assured him. “All the adults have the hotel

rooms booked up for themselves tonight anyway, so teenagers aren’t going to be able to get one,” she teased.

He shot her a look, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He was too easy.

Their conversation continued easily as the bottle of wine slowly disappeared between the two of them. “So the event planner I hired to do the fundraiser we talked about last week is supposed to send me a few dates where we can meet with her to go over the details,” he told her as he finished his glass.

The fundraiser. Right. For the scholarship in her mother’s name. She still couldn’t believe he had come up with this way to honor her mother. Even a week later, it still made her heart do somersaults. “Sure, Castle…just let me know, and I’ll do my best to be there. But you have all the plans we came up with. You could plan it without me there.”

“And I will if you can’t get away, but it’s important to me to involve you.”

She smiled and shifted slightly so that she was close enough to touch his knee. “I appreciate that, I really do. And I want to plan this. Unfortunately, murders don’t always stick to a schedule,” she smiled. “I just want you to know that if something comes up on my side, I trust you to do this. I trust you won’t go over the top.”

He smiled, leaning forward to set his empty glass on the coffee table. He shifted a little closer, resting his hand over hers. “I promise, everything will be perfect. Nothing over the top,” he assured her.

She leaned forward to place her empty glass on the table as well. “I know I already said this, but thank you. I can’t even come up with words to tell you how much this means to me,” she told him honestly.

“Thank you for letting me do this for you,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers and getting lost for a moment. He was grateful she’d accepted his offer; he knew how closely guarded she was about her mother. The Kate Beckett he’d met a couple of years ago would have probably shot him for even making the suggestion; then again, the Richard Castle from a couple of years ago probably would have planned the whole thing without consulting her or getting permission from her at all. They had both grown as people since then.

She let her eyes hold his, not realizing she’d shifted closer to him. Her eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips, and she knew what she wanted. It was a bad idea, but between the events of the day…the past few weeks, really…and the wine in her system, the feelings she had for him had fought their way to the surface and she couldn’t remember all the reasons why or even bring herself to care that it was a bad idea. For once, she stopped thinking and just acted,

closing the distance between them and pressing her lips against his.

The kiss was tender and slow, her fingertips gently caressing his cheek. She deepened the kiss after a few moments, melting into him. The tip of her tongue had just slipped past his lips and touched his when the sound of the door opening and Alexis’s voice telling Ashley goodnight hit her, causing her to break the kiss and pull back abruptly, as though she’d been burned. Shit… Realization sunk in and her eyes widened. “I…need to go…” she quickly distanced herself from him on the couch.

“Kate…” Castle started softly, but before he had a chance to say anything else, Alexis approached and hugged him from behind, seemingly unaware of what she had interrupted. “Hey, Pumpkin. Have a nice time?”

“I did,” she smiled. “Detective Beckett, I didn’t know you’d be here.” She wasn’t accusatory, simply surprised. She’d figured the Detective would have plans on Valentine’s Day.

Beckett was in the process of slipping her shoes back on and froze for a moment at the teenager’s words. “Oh, um…your dad and I were just…”

“That case I was looking into…my friend was arrested, and she was kind enough to try to cheer me up a little,” he broke in to offer an explanation.

Alexis frowned slightly. “I’m sorry your friend was guilty, Dad,” she told him sympathetically.

“Yeah, me too,” he nodded. “Hey, I got you something,” he said then, pushing himself up from the couch to give Kate a little time to try to recompose herself. He dragged his daughter to the kitchen and handed her the single red rose he’d picked up for her on the way home. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Alexis grinned and kissed her dad’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad. You know you’ll always be my favorite Valentine.”

Kate watched the scene in front of her; seeing Castle being such an amazing father had always been a soft spot for her where he was concerned. She realized if she didn’t get out of there now, she was going to end up doing something really stupid that could easily end with her in Castle’s bed. “Well, Alexis is here to cheer you up now, so I’m going home,” she said in a lighter tone than she felt as she approached the door.

“Thank you for keeping him company until I got home, Detective. And don’t worry, he’s in good hands. I’m going to break out the ice cream,” Alexis assured her with a smile. “I just hope he didn’t ruin your Valentine’s Day plans.”

“Uh no. Josh was stuck at the hospital, so it’s fine,” she answered quickly, avoiding Castle’s eyes as she brought up her boyfriend…her boyfriend…who was not the man she’d just kissed on the couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she told him. “Goodnight Alexis, I’m glad you had fun,” she added to the girl and then letting herself out of his loft before he could try to get her to stay. She was absolutely running.

xxxxx

I know this is a longer chapter, but I really didn’t want to split it up into two. I want to try to keep each chapter its own episode if I can. I’m still not sure I’m overly happy with how this ending turned out, but it felt organic to me…this last scene is one I’ve spent longer on than almost any other scene I’ve written, so I hope you guys are all okay with it.

I hope you enjoyed the additions I made to this episode, and as always, I look forward to your comments!

[youcalledmebabe]

1, 9, 12, and 22 for the ask game <33

1. OTP?

I don’t know who to choose… it’s VERY close between baberoe and webgott. I’ll have to give the edge to Webgott; they have more friction to them and I find that really compelling.

9. Write a recommendation of someone else's fic you enjoyed

I’m so obsessed with all the @bitch-butter webgott fics. In particular I love ‘down comes the night’ which was inspired by Dracula. Webgott in the style of a gothic romance?!?! It’s incredible. The writing is just so gorgeous. It’s haunting and romantic and beautiful. Web as a vampire is inspired. Do you ever love something so much you can’t even write about it coherently? Everyone should just trust me and go read it. Here’s a little taste since I’m probably not selling it well enough:

“It felt almost confusingly good to be so close to him, as though his blood was magnetized, drawn in by the pull of David’s body, of its promise. And this isn’t normal, this isn’t how he’s been since he woke up one day to realize he was old enough to know better, he isn’t usually this open, this…

I know you, he thinks again, and it makes even less sense than it did before, like a voice inside of him speaking a language he’s never heard before. I know you.

David’s eyes hold his like he physically has his palms cradling them, right up until they float down to catch onto the sight of Joe’s lips. It’s the poor lighting, but Joe for a moment thinks he sees the other man’s pupils jump, widening and flattening as they stare hungrily at his mouth.”

12. What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

Luztoye Gilmore girls AU because I can’t be bothered to actually make George a parent and create an original character (unless I made Rory like Web or something… which would also make this funnier) But George is SO Lorelai Gilmore and Joe is so Luke.

22. Give us a headcanon for [character]

Dealers choice? Web’s favorite Hemingway is A Farewell to Arms and consequently, he romanticized medics and had a crush on Eugene up through Holland.

thanks for asking :))

[thestalwartheart]

with rain comes shine

On a rare lazy Sunday morning, Q and Bond luxuriate in each other. Flufftober Fill for 'Rainy day.'

[Read below or on AO3.]

It was a horrible morning in London; the dreariest kind where even the relentless patter of rain seemed to radiate boredom. Thankfully, it was a Sunday without any major incidents so far, so Q could afford to indulge himself in a bit of pointless lounging.

And wasn’t the only one intending to make the most of circumstance.

On the sofa, surrounded by the unkempt clutter of Q’s living room, sat Bond. He was alert and upright even as he read, and next to him, on a coffee table that featured a few more piles of books than it usually would, a steaming espresso steamed pleasantly. The cats were piled together on the armchair opposite, watching him with open bewilderment.

Q sympathised.

Seeing one of the world’s foremost secret agents reading in his dressing gown was quite the thing. It was even better knowing that he did so in a fetching pair of reading glasses. They were tortoiseshell and rounder than Q might have picked for Bond if he’d had to guess at what frames the man wore, but they suited him. They seemed to render him benign, though not boring, and Q was suddenly reminded of one of his old English teachers at school, one he’s had a few good wanks over once upon a time.

“‘Morning,” said Q. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

In a move that was only slightly too hasty, Bond pocketed them. “Will my dignity stay intact if I tell you they’re only meant to be fashionable?”

“Oh, no. That’s much worse. Besides, I like them.” He reached into Bond’s pocket and drew the frames out for closer examination. “Rather professorial, aren’t they?”

Bond made a noise that was very close to a growl. He tugged at Q until Q was splayed across his thighs. “Shall I call you a naughty boy, then? Have you been a terrible student?”

Q snorted an ungainly laugh. Once it escaped him, he couldn’t stop it from dissolving into riotous giggles. “For the love of god, let’s never go down that road again.”

“No?” smiled Bond. “You don’t want to dress up as a repressed schoolboy for me?”

“Absolutely not. I was never particularly repressed anyway.”

“I’d noticed.”

Bond’s eyes twinkled, and buoyed by their shared good mood, Q couldn’t help but kiss him. Bond’s mouth tasted of espresso, bitter and hot. He put his book aside on the coffee table and dedicated himself entirely to the task of disheveling Q. They spent a few long minutes necking, though Q was happy for it not to go anywhere too fast. He hadn’t had his tea yet, and he always did his best work after an Earl Grey or two.

When they broke apart, Q turned to the book on the coffee table.

“What are you reading?”

“Hemingway. The Americans do have some redeeming literature.” Bond slipped his hand under Q’s dressing gown and under his rumpled, warm pyjamas. Outside, the rain drummed its constant rhythm. “We would be together…” whispered Bond, trailing a line of kisses down Q’s slender neck before him. “…and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.”

Q tilted his head back and sighed. Bond’s lips were at his pulse, and he could feel the brush of eyelashes at his jaw.

This, he thought, was the epitome of good romance. Bugger the Michelin-starred dinners and the martinis and the four-figure suits. Q would take an untidy morning snog on the couch any day.

“Can I tempt you back to bed, darling?” asked Bond.

Q bit his lip and ran a hand through Bond’s hair, ushering him into leaving a love bite above Q’s clavicle. Then, with only some regret, he drew away.

“Tea first,” Q insisted. “Then you can put those glasses back on and do whatever you want to me.”

Bond laughed and let him go.

As he filled and boiled the kettle, Q mused that it was a perfect morning. They didn’t get many of those. Between all the stress and the absences, all the women in the field, and the complete lack of promises beyond the one that remained constant and true — I will always be here when you call) — a rainy day where they had little to do except savour each other seemed like a holiday. It was an ersatz honeymoon, and all the more precious because both of them would be bored stiff if they had to live this way for more than a day or two.

At the kitchen counter, Bond sidled up behind Q, wrapping his arms around Q’s waist.

“How fast can you drink that tea?” he asked.

Q tutted. “I’ll drink it slower if you keep asking.” Then, placing a slow kiss against the stubble of Bond’s jaw, he proclaimed, “I’m in no rush.”

[stylecouncil]

the people need your verdict: were hemingway and fitzgerald lovers?

do I think they were ever physically lovers? I really have no idea/its improbable that it went on too long if it went on at all and what the extent of it would have been, esp considering how weird fitzgerald was about sex to begin with (read sheilah grahams memoir. which I really do think stems from some sort of abuse, esp when you consider certain pretty telling statements about catholicism/the one intense relationship we know he had with a priest as a young man). both were also so publicly defensive about homosexuality (esp fitzgerald, probably out of necessity of being so outwardly feminine, although you see a real complex view/fixation on it in his actual writing) that it would be unlikely real evidence of this would survive whether it happened or not. zelda certainly seemed to think they had an inappropriate relationship in her eyes, but it’s hard to quantify exactly what that means esp when you combine it with the deterioration of her mental state.

the two of them immensely disliked each other, of which there could be multiple explanations for and might simply come down to hemingways misogyny and cold hearted clinging away from “feminine” showing of emotion or what he said it was, the belief fitzgerald was wasting his talent by remaining married to her/trying to get her help/remaining in their whirlwind of a relationship, but tended to look like this 👇 and was frequently very nasty

in terms of their emotional relationship I certainly think it was intense and scott seemed to value hemingway far more than he valued him (the constant references to him in something like the crack up, the tales of showing up to his house drunk in the middle of the night, the talking about him incessantly to mutual friends etc) but that being said hemingway also seemed to be fixated on scott in some sort of one-sided battle, like he was constantly trying to prove himself the better/not “like” scott ie not as feminine and, in his eyes, pathetic as scott. it seems like there was obviously something within scott that scared hemingway to death. this fixation even carries over to his writing (see: the snows of kilimanjaro, im which fitzgerald is essentially made the poster child for the weak man, a man who may as well already be dead, letting women rule his life, published shortly after fitzgerald released the crack up essays and the ensuing fall out/one of my favorite letters from fitzgerald to hemingway). the fact that fitzgerald seemed to genuinely admire women seemed to be a real sore spot between the two, especially where it concerned zelda. either way, in between their disagreements and the eventual dissolution of their relationship, there were obvious signs of real closeness in their letters

and there seems to be real deliberation in the way hemingway writes about fitzgerald in a moveable feast. like he wants to cause harm, but then also keeps pulling back, (there are a few great essays I’ve read that go into what hemingway left in vs took out of a movable feast regarding fitzgerald, I have a few posts on here that reference them) also don’t get me started on the weird probably false and just meant to make fitzgerald look bad, but nevertheless strangely homoerotic scene he writes into the book about fitzgerald showing him his dick. (It’s a whole thing, also fits right into the theme of hemingway’s need to reassure his own masculinity by using fitzgerald as a scapegoat for his own insecurities).

long story short, I think the two both had some complicated feelings for eachother, a lot things related to fitzgerald are particularly sad/telling

I would say that fitzgerald was in love with hemingway but I’m not sure he knew exactly how to process those feelings/would even admit that to himself so it’s hard to actually fully say that was the case. how hemingway felt is even harder to pin down because he was even less likely to admit something like this to himself. its clear that he almost viewed fitzgerald as a woman and simultaneously treated him in the same derogatory style he tended to reserve for women, and seemed to be interchangeably disgusted by him and as equally fixated on him and with as much admiration as fitzgerald had for him (see: his description of fitzgerald in a movable feast I think all of this comes across even in that concise paragraph). so um what am I trying to get at here.

yeah kind of.

[friendly-books]

Dresden files Peace Talk Live Blog

Content warning: Brief mention of SA I go off on a rant.

Dresden files Peace talk live blog

“My brother ruined a perfectly good run by saving “Justine is pregnant.” pg. 1 What a way to start a book

“He was one of the men who were so good-looking that it made people check around to see if they were being pranked.” pg. 1 Bi Harry 45

“Sorry to spoil your man time, Hemingway.” pg. 2 Ha

“I’ll have you know I’ve been a full time dad for well over a month, and Maggie isn’t dead yet. I clearly have mad parenting skills.” pg. 11 Ha and aw dad Harry

Carlos!

“The supernatural world had been kind of topsy-turvy lately. Some lunatic had managed to wipe out the Red Court of Vampires completely, and the resulting vacuum had destabilized balances of power that were centuries old.” pg. 16 Yeah Harry I wonder who would do that. Truly only a lunatic

“Marcone?” I demanded. Gentleman Johnnie Marcone, former robber baron of Chicago’s outfit was now Baron Marcone, the only vanilla human being to sign the Unseelie Accords. He’d managed that a few years ago, and he been building his power base ever since.” pg. 8 First Marcone mention and in the first chapter! Harry you were one of his signatures

“That was all him. Tell me that the Council doesn’t want me to be our emissary.”

Ramirez blinked “Wait what? Oh…God no, Harry. I mean…no. Just no.” pg. 8 Ha

“I took off the weighted vest with disgust and tossed it on the beach. It made an extremely weighty thump when it hit.” pg. 8 Nice Rock Lee moment

“I wonder if Harry Dresden is still Harry Dresden or if the Queen of Air and Darkness has turned him into her personal monster” look

I get that one a lot these days. Sometimes in the mirror.” pg. 9 Aw :( poor Harry

Mister!

Maggie!

I love Maggie and Bonnie

“As dumpy as it had been, that grotty little apartment had been my home. Damn the vampires, for burning it down. Damn Marcone, for buying the property and putting his new headquarters on the ground where home used to be.” pg. 21 I also miss Harry’s house. Also Harry, do you wonder why Marcone built his headquarters on your own house.

Is…is Harry sick?

“Runes and sigils of green light spangled the walls.” pg. 27 I don’t think Harry’s magic has always been green?

Ebenezar!

No wait Thomas is here and Eb doesn’t know they’re related oh no is there any chance they can all sit down and talk? Can we please all be grownups and communicate with each other just this once

“What is that thing here?” Ebenezar demanded

Thomas lifted his eyebrows. “Thing? Pretty bold assertion of righteousness from the White Council’s hatchet man.” pg. 30 Eb that’s rude to call Thomas a thing

“There has been a motion raised before the general Council to strip you of your status as a member of the White Council entirely.” pg. 33 Oh no

“If you look up unnecessary risk in the White Council’s dictionary, my picture is there. And my address. And all my personal contact information. And my permanent record from middle school.” pg. 34 Ha

“I’m being set up” pg. 36 Yep

“Stars and stones”

“Don’t say that,” he said, his tone slipping into a more familiar, grouchier cadence. “You don’t even know what it means.” pg. 40 Interesting

“Maggie,” he said quietly. His voice sounded rough. “Hello, young lady.” pg. 41 Aw

“How’d that work out?” I asked him. “Let’s ask Mom. Oh, wait. We can’t. She’s dead.” pg. 43 Poor Harry poor Eb

“Your mother is dead,” Ebenezar said. “Your father is dead. The woman who bore your child is dead. And you are the common denominator.” pg. 45 EBENEZAR! >:(

“but only a fool squared off against Ebenezar McCoy.”

(Yes. I am aware of the implications of that statement; I’d been doing it for like ten minutes.) pg. 47 Ha

Murphy!

“I don’t get to be me anymore,” she whispered” pg. 52 Poor Murphy :(

“So instead, I kissed her.” pg. 53 Harry/Murphy kiss!

“He was on the tall side of medium height, good-looking,” pg. 56 Bi Harry 46

Boo Rudolph

“And Marcone owns Rudolph,” Karrin said. She pursed her lips. “Or so we assumed.” pg. 64 He is!? When was this assembled?

“New colors”

“He made an alliance with a powerful guardian entity.” pg. 68 Interesting

Lara and Mab

“There?” pg. 71 How did Lara get three favors from Mab?!

“The embassy was on fire-and my daughter was inside.” pg. 74 Oh no :(

Earthwalk sounds terrible

“Why is everyone so shocked that I have a girlfriend?” pg. 80 Ha

Hope Carpenter!

Why ware the svartalves trying to take Maggie?

“Who did you lose?”

“Austri” pg. 87 Oh no poor Austri

“It was Thomas” pg. 90 What!? Why would Thomas try to assassin someone?

“And that’s why you’re sending me back?” Maggie asked” pg. 96 Aw poor Maggie :(

I love that Harry has plans for Maggie if he were to die again

“She hugged me tight again” pg. 99 Aw my heart :)

“He says you are,” Maggie said. “That you’re a good man. One of the best he knows.” pg. 99 My heart :)

Justine!

“Justine went limp and wept.” pg. 106 Poor Justine :(

“My friend. I recall you telling me about how one should respond to loyalty, once upon a time. That when you get it, you gotta give-it back, or else a man starts looking at those people like they’re things to be used.” pg. 112 Interesting shows Ebs teaching

Aw Harry and Eb are fighting :(

“If I do what is right, they’ll throw me to the wolves, huh?”

“Look in the mirror,” Ebenezar said harshly. “You are a wolf. That’s the point.” pg. 114 Ouch

“Outsiders” pg. 117 Oh no

“My mentor, my teacher, the most feared wizard on the planet, was frightened.” pg. 119 Oh no

Eb is so cool

This fight is so cool

Now they’re being chased

“why it’s damned stupid thing to trust vampires’ course.” pg. 126 You’re bringing this up now?! Now?

“Power against the Outsiders” pg. 128 So cool so Harry can fight the Outsiders. Wait did Harry’s mom plan Harry’s birth? Is that why Mab wanted Harry as the winter knight?

“please also observe that every single point of the plan is vampire-free.” pg. 130 Ha

“The whole pack is here. Now they’ll get serious.” pg. 131 The whole pack that’s a lot

“I don’t know.” pg. 133 Oh no

“Conjuritits? At your age?” pg. 134 What?

“Consulere Rex!” pg. 135 What. What kind of spell is this?

“Having a friggin’ Tyannosaurus Rex roaring out the tune of “Happy Birthday to You” at full volume is an entirely appropriate birthday present for Waldo Butters.” pg. 135 Ha

“And many moooooooooore!” pg. 138 Ha and yes I counted the o’s there’s 10

“God, I love working under pressure.” pg. 143 That’s good? Is this sarcastic? I think it’s sarcastic

“And I felt them.

Inside my head.

Felt the Outside.” pg. 145 Oh no

“I saw an image from their point of view-a being made of coherent light, a column of glowing energy centers, and pure dread, standing like an obelisk before the cornerhounds, a bolt of terrible lightning gathered around its upraised fists, head, and shoulders, like a miniature storm front.

I saw what they saw when they looked at me.

And I felt their fear.” pg. 145 So cool

“Because they took someone from me.”

“Mom?” I asked

His jaw muscles tightened. “Her too” pg. 148 Did vampires also kill Ebs wife? Whole family?

“Just…hurt.” pg. 149 Poor Harry

Butters!

“Okay. So the White Council wants to give you a hard time. So what else is new?” pg. 154 I’m with Buttes this isn’t new behavior from the White Council. This does bring back that quote from Elaine in Summer Knight “God, Harry. You can’t see it, can you? The Council doesn't care about you. They don’t want to protect you. They will only put up as long as you toe the line and don’t become an inconvenience.” pg. 150 The Council has never liked Harry. I’m more shocked that it’s taken this long.

“to recover is a solid sleep cycle” pg. 157 Knowing Harry that’s not going to happen

Andi!

Marci!

“He’s an adult human being, guys. And I’m tired. Draw conclusions, Harry.” pg. 159 Ha and throuple?

“Damn. Little guy had gotten all grown up on me.” pg. 160 Aw I’m so proud

Sayna is in town. Something is about to go down

“Who are you, and what have you done with Harry Dresden?” pg. 163 Ha

Riley! My guy you don’t get paid enough. Switch sides. Marcone probably has better benefits.

“Sister?” I asked “Oh, Sigrun Gard?”

“Freydis Gard.” pg. 170 Oh Gard has a sister

“Lara was a beautiful and dangerous as a hungry tigress, and very, very smart.” pg. 171 I’m seeing similar vibes to how Harry describes Marcone and Lara

“I thought it was closed to all outsiders then.”

She grinned and moved her hip in a little roll that made me want to stampede. “Have you looked at me?” pg. 173 Is Lara half Japanese or Korean or Chinese? Or is it because she’s pretty?

“Have you told his grandfather about him?” pg. 175 What!? Lara knows about Ebenezar?!

Okay don’t mess with Lara’s family good to know

“None of them were smiling.” pg. 186 Oh no

“Mistrusting me right from the get-go huh?” pg. 186 Not off to a great start

Can someone please de escalate this situation

“We’re friends” I said

“Then let us be your friends,” pg. 191 This isn’t how friends act. They don’t stalk, pull over their car, pointing weapons at them! Just let Harry explain and trust him.

“The last time I’d faced off with this many Wardens, they’d been there to arrest me, after the death of Justin DuMorne. I’d been sixteen. I’d remember how frightening those grim spartan figures had been.” pg. 192 That’s a lot of wardens after one warlock. Why so many?

Rant start

“He’s been with at least one sexual partner in the past several hours,” pg. 193 What. Is that the spell? Why would you make that spell? Why would you do that to Harry?

“And, as I realized what they’d been doing, my own anger started swelling dangerously. The Council had poked its nose in my business my entire adult life. It didn’t need to start poking it there. My heart started beating faster.” pg. 193 HOW FUCKING DARE THEY. >:( They have no right to know that information. The spell only seems to say that at least one and it seems to make no indication whatsoever if it was consensual. Maybe it wasn’t they (wardens) know that. They’re accosting Harry. Why do they care who Harry sleeps with? It’s none of their business. They don’t react this way to Mab when Harry becomes the Winter Knight. This is such an invasion of privacy. 

“Who was it?” Ramirez asked me, voice hard

“The nerve” I snarled

“Was it Lara?” he pressed. His jaw set like stone. “Harry, has she gotten to you?”

My fingers tighten on my staff until the wood cracked. “You’re crossing a goddamned line, Carlos.”

“Harry,” Chandler began, his tone soothing. He reached out to put a companionable hand on my shoulder.””

I struck it away

Chandler hissed and withdrew his arm, holding it close to his body.

“We have to know, Dresden,” Ramirez said. “Who did you sleep with tonight?”

“Because your sex life is a disaster, you pull this crap on me,” I growled” pg. 193 It’s none of their business. The nerve is right. They are crossing so many lines. Good if Harry doesn’t punch every single one of these Wardens by the end of the book I’ll do it myself and they deserve the backlash/back talk.

“Carlos face drained of color, but his expression never changed. “Believe it. Who?”

“Suddenly I remember why I have authority issues,” I said “Go fuck yourself Ramirez. And tell whoever ordered you to do this to me to pound sand while you’re at it.”

“Captain Luccio ordered me to do this,” Ramirez said quietly. “She’s still your friend. She wants to help you, too.”

“I don’t need this kind of help,” I said. “We’re supposed to be on the same side.”

“We are,” Chandler said emphatically. Then his face fell. “Unless. . . we aren’t, I suppose.”

“Ever word I’ve said to you is true,” I snapped. Or at least not a lie. “I’ve had enough bullshit from the White Council for one night.” pg. 194 Yes Harry has every reason to have authority issues. Tell him off Harry. LUCCIO! Why would you order this? I’m so disappointed in you. Did she think this was a good idea because of what happened to her and Peabody? If that’s why it doesn’t mean you get to be suspicious and be an unreasonable jerk to Harry. Why would the wardens agree to this? I thought they were Harry’s friends. Harry’s actually friends would sit him down and talk to him and trust him. This is an order you have to look at and disagree. You need to think for yourself. Why would anyone think this was a good idea?

Rant End

“Margaret Katherine Amanda Carpenter,” I chanted rhythmically, “I call you.” pg. 200 Ha

“I’m human. But this mantle isn’t like yours. It’s an order of magnitude more complex.” pg. 202 Interesting

“Molly had definitely become someone darker and more dangerous.” pg. 203 Oh no

“And more than anything else, it’s where you build that world that you want.” pg. 212 I love the passage about home

“My comfy, dumpy old apartment was gone, flattened by Gentlemen Johnnie Marcone to make way for his stupid little castle and the Bigger Better Brighter Future Society. I mean, that had only been after the Red Court of Vampires had burned my home down, but I guess I’d settled their harsh not long after. I was willing to call that one even.” pg. 213  Marcone mention! It’s a cool castle.

“I bowed my head at a light and wept.” pg. 213 Poor Harry

“Then perhaps you are the right person, in the right place, at the right time,” Michael said “Again. Have faith in that. And get some sleep.” pg. 218 I love this

Oh dear Molly hasn’t told her parents about being the Winter Lady

Pretty suit

Gary!

Sanya!

“He’d shaved his head entirely, and his scalp was the color of dark chocolate, covered with beads of sweat, and the blazing afternoon sun shone gratuitously upon all the muscles.” Bi Harry 47

“But knowledge good, too, da?”

“Da,” I said, firmly.” pg. 230 Of course Harry thinks knowledge is good

“And directly through Sanya’s wrist.” pg. 233 Oh dear

“He suddenly frowned. “Hey” pg. 234 Ha

“With an angel inside,” breathed Butters” pg. 239 So cool

“I accidentally ran it through the laundry once.” pg. 239 Ha

“The fete was being hosted at the Brighter Future Society’s headquarters, a small but genuine freaking castle that Gentleman Johnnie Marcone had flown over from somewhere in Scotland, stone by stone, and rebuilt on the lot of a burned-down boarding house.” pg. 242 Marcone mention!

“My old house.

Gone now

In fire

I wanted to go home.” pg. 242 Poor Harry :(

“When it got fully dark, Marcone’s castle would look like it was holding a flashlight under its chin.” pg. 243 Marcone mention and ha

“Technically, this wasn’t my first visit to Marcone’s little fortress, but it was the first time I’d done so physically.” pg. 247 Marcone mention

“M-Baron Marcone, the White Court, and the Paranetters have formed an alliance against the Former here in Chicago the past few years,” I said “Too many kids had gone missing.” pg. 248 Yep and I love that Harry has to stop and correct himself from just saying Marcone

“Wild Bill scowled darkly. “They turned to criminals and the White Court for help, did they?”

I straightened and turned slowly to Wild Bill, lookIng directly at him. “Their kids were being taken. And it wasn’t like we were helping them.”

Wild Bill quickly averted his gaze from mine. There was an uncomfortable silence.” pg. 249 Yep what were the White Council doing while Harry was dead? And the years after. It doesn’t seem like they were helping people. Where were the people supposed to go? Marcone and Lara were offering protection.

Childs!

German Shepherd! Doggy!

“My employer’s main concern tonight is that no one brings any explosive compounds inside,” he said calmly.

“Yeah. That would suck, if everything blew up and the place burned down,” I said “I speak from experience.” I might have given him a toothy smile as I said it.” pg. 250 Ha and come on Harry’s here. There’s going to be a fire.

I’m halfway through the book

“Marcone keeps a platoon of Einherjaren on standby. Remember?” pg. 251 Marcone mention

“Me, too. Just remember what I taught you.”

“Never start the fight. Always finish it.”

“Not that.”

“Make your bed and do your chores?”

“Not that”

“Something, something, never let them see you sweat.”

A grin flashed over the old man’s seamed face, there and gone. “Close enough.” pg. 252 Ha

“Marcone’s little castle had a large central hall that took up what had to be a goodly portion of its ground floor.” pg. 253 Marcone mention and this castle is so cool. I can’t wait for Harry to get it.

“And apparently, Baron Marcone had convinced them to help him.” pg. 253 Marcone mention and it’s interesting that Marcone got the Summer court to help

“And they were playing for Marcone’s party.” pg. 254 How many favors does Marcone have? And to who? How many did he cash in for this accord meeting? Why?

“I thought about the vaults we’d partially wrecked in the basement of Marcone’s bank, where he’d been entrusted with protecting assets from a dozen different supernatural nations at least. Just how many markers had Marcone given out? How many truly scary beings were in the man’s debt?

I frowned. The robber baron of Chicago was becoming a real concern.” pg. 254 Yep and I can’t wait to see him

“I blinked. Lara wasn’t exactly a ditzy party girl, but she was doing a damned good impression.” pg. 258 Oh Lara’s plotting

Oh interesting that the favor have an effect on Harry

Oh no ghouls are here

“I considered setting them all on fire for a while, until I started getting looks from the table. It was only then that I noticed how wildly I was smiling and moved along.” pg. 264 Harry hates ghouls so much

IVY! She’s here!

Where’s Kincaid?

Has it really been years since Harry saw Ivy?

I want Marcone. Where’s Marcone? This is his event. Hmmm =| 

Vadderung!

Ferrovax is here too?!

Genoakwa survived?! He’s here?!

Oh good it’s just RiverShoulder’s

The Forest People are joining the Accords!

Yes Harry is a good friend. I wish Carlos remembered that yes I’m still mad about it

“Blood on His Soul won’t forget.” pg. 270 That’s his name?! And he survived!? Ahhh!!!

“Yeah. Marcone had plenty of people here.” pg. 270 Yep

“Yeah, these parties are a hoot,” pg. 272 Yeah Harry isn’t great at parties

“Beowulf. Vadderung.” pg. 273 VADDERUNG was Beowulf! That’s so cool

River Shoulders is old

“You know what, Hoss Dresden?” pg. 275 So far three people have called Harry ‘Hoss’ Eb, Listen-to-Wind, and River Shoulders

“You pretty good about defying folk who need defying. And you’re getting better about fighting out who those folk are.” pg. 275 Yep

“Sometime, you want to learn more, come find me.” pg. 275 I hope Harry learns from Rivers

“Baron Marcone has given his permission, as host, for me to deal with this matter.” pg. 281 Marcone mention

“Baron Marcone, as host of this gathering, offered to hold my brother prisoner until the matter had been settled through an Accorded  emissary.” pg. 283 Marcone mention

“My read is that this whole conference is Marcone’s baby.”

I grunted agreement. “He’s actually doing what Cristos only thinks he is,” I said. “Building alliances.”

“And if you screw up Marcone’s plan? Karrin asked bluntly.

“His reputation takes a hit,” I said

“And he will respond to that.”

“Marcone is actually aware of the concept of payback,” I agreed.

Karrin glowered. “I don’t know all of the beings you deal with very well, Harry. But I know Marcone. And he scares me.” pg. 286 Marcone mention. Yeah Marcone is scary. So this is Marcone’s pet project.

“I love you,” I said.” pg. 292 Ahhh!!! :)

Yelp now they’re getting tailed

Why is everyone looking at Justine?

How do I only have 12 chapters left?

I like Freydis

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Murphy blinked.

“Mortals cheeks turned bright pink. “Um.”

Freydis frowned slightly and glanced from Murphy to me and back. “I don't mind sharing.”

“I’m . . . I’m Catholic,” Murphy said.

Freydis’s eyes shone with a wicked sparkle. “I don’t mind conflicted, either.”

Murphy gave me a somewhat desperate glance.

Huh. I’d officially seen everything now. Murphy asking for a rescue. From monsters and madmen, she’d never cried uncle.

It had taken a redhead.” pg. 309 Ha and Murphy didn’t say she wasn’t straight just Catholic so I’m putting that down as a Bi Murphy 2

“Marcone owns it.” pg. 317 Marcone mention

“It’s bullshit. However inconvenient you might be for them, whether any of them like it or not, you’re a wizard Harry.” pg. 319 You know what’s bullshit your intervention. I will be forever be mad about it

“Yet a wizard, Harry,” I growled.” pg. 319 Ha

I’m almost done and it’s only been four days

“Point is, I’ve already cast my vote on your behalf. So have most of the other Wardens.”

I was quiet for a second, with my throat a little tight. “Oh. Thanks.” pg. 319 That doesn’t make up for the intervention

“Don’t you like parties, Harry?” pg. 320 Ha and is that an understatement

“Wham. It was nearly audible, how fast his expression became a closed door.” pg. 320 Ah right Bombshell

“Why would he?

He was a friend. He trusted me.

I felt sick.” pg. 321 Is Carlos really your friend after the intervention. Does he really trust you? He was the one to mistrust and track Harry first

“Baron Marcone was a handsome man of middle years dressed in an immaculate gray business suit. Perhaps slightly taller than average, he had barely changed in all the years I’d known him. The few marks of age that had come upon him only made him look more reserved, severe, and dangerous.” pg. 322 Bi Harry 48 and MARCONE my guy is here finally! Look at him! I love him probably far too much. And yes Harry Marcone is handsome.

“Marcone glanced up as the White Council’s delegation entered together, and he looked at me for a moment, his expression neutral.” pg. 323 Marcone mention and I love that Marcone looked at Harry. I wonder what he’s thinking?

“I returned the look with as much of a poker face as I could, and we both looked elsewhere at the same moment, as if we’d planned it.” pg. 323 Ha

“I briefly toyed with the image of Marcone, with several missing teeth, reclining in a dentist chair for repair work while Gard and Hendricks menaced the poor DDS with their glowers, and it made me smile.” pg. 324 Ha

“If any underworld boss in the world had a dental plan for his employees, it would be Marcone.” pg. 324 Yep

“I should probably be looking into a checkup for Maggie before she went to her new school in the fall,” pg. 324 Ha and yes dad Harry

“Oh. You just went from a three to a six, seidermadr. I like men who look past the surface of things. And you can dance.” pg. 328 Ha and yes Harry can dance

“One of Marcone’s people in the in the red jackets looked like he might disagree with me going up the stairs to the gym” pg. 331 Marcone mention

“The guard looked from me over toward Marcone’s camp. Marcone didn’t look up from  his conversation, but Hendricks, his right hand, gave the guard a nod.” pg. 331 Marcone mention and what is he thinking?

Why are Harry and Lara undressing?

“Marcone had to give in with grace and installed dumbwaiter doors.” pg. 333 Marcone mention and ha

Why are they getting in the dumbwaiter? How can they both fit? How can Harry fit?

“Oh. You and the policewoman? Congratulations, wizard.” pg. 334 Yes true love protection

Wait I need to go back I missed Gard and Hendricks description because I was distracted by Marcone

“had grown out a short beard that had come out several shades darker than his hair,” pg. 323 Hendricks has a beard!

“on top of Lara in the boxing ring, making out furiously.” pg. 336 What. Why? Out of all the illusions you go with that one? After that “intervention” if anyone sees it won’t be good for Harry

I hope the guard will be ok

“Because it was my door.

My door, mine, from my old apartment; the door to my sub basement lab.” pg. 347 Harry’s basement! Does Marcone know it’s Harry’s lab? Why did he keep it? Has Marcone gone into the lab? Can he? Ah it’s a piece of Harry’s home.

“Hells bells, I wanted to feel like I was home again. And instead, I was standing in Marcone’s house.” pg. 346 Well it’s going to be Harry’s house soon.

Poor Thomas :(

“You’ve got conjuritis? I’ve heard about how awkward it can be when wizard kids get the disease. Aren’t you a few. . . decades old for that?” pg. 354 Interesting could Harry have gotten it from Maggie? Does being isolated to just him, Justin, and Elaine in their adolescence play a part? Does Harry have a longer lifespan than other wizards so now in his 40’s he still considered young enough to get conjuritis? Why does Lara know about conjuritis? Did Thomas, Molly, Maggie, or Charity? ever get conjuritis? Am I massively overthinking this probably

“The whole time I got dressed, I did my best to ignore the image in the boxing ring” pg. 355 It’s still going on?!? Why?

The potion from Fool’s Moon!

“He loved books.

He took me to see Star Wars movies.

Him and me.” pg. 360 Aw Harry’s dad got him into Star Wars :) My heart

Oh no Ferrovax can see Harry

Oh good Vadderung is helping

“None of the valets or staff survived.” pg. 367 Oh no

Noooo Gwynn ap Nudd I liked you

“YOU DARE! YOU ARE A GUEST IN THIS HOUSE!” pg. 374 Oh dear Mab is mad

“I remember how you wept when Merlin cast you out.” pg. 813 What!? Mab and Merlin

What

Just

Happened

Did the being just kicked Mab through the wall?

Who is the bronze lady?

“Gentleman John Marcone stepped out from the unmoving Gard, impeccable in his suit. He didn’t look frightened, though he had to be. He simply stepped forward, clear of his guards, and said, “Good evening, madam. I am Baron John Marcone. This is my home. Might I have the pleasure of knowing how you wish to be addressed?” pg. 378 Marcone mention and what are you doing Marcone?

“The goddess narrowed her eyes, watching Marcone with the kind of revulsion that one normally sees reserved for a swarm of maggots. She shook her head, dismissing Marcone from her attention as she fixed her gaze on Vadderung again.” pg. 378 Marcone mention and don’t you look at Marcone like that.

“This is your host?” she demanded. “You permit a mortal among you? Where is your dignity? Where is your pride?” She shook her head. “This world has gone astray. We have failed it. And I will no longer huddle fearfully in the seas and watch the mortals turn it into their filthy hive.” pg. 378 Who made you the judge, jury, and executioner? And Marcone is cool.

“The goddess walked forward, starting down at Marcone. She circled him, shaking her head in judgement and still no one moved.” pg. 378 Don’t you shake your head at Marcone

“Chicago fell into total darkness.” pg. 381 Oh no

“A solid quarter minute of stunned silence followed before Gentleman John Marcone hauled himself to his feet, looked around at the destruction and confusion in the hall, and mused, “It would seem we have the Formor’s answer with regards to the peace process.” pg. 382 Marcone mention and yes Ethniu made her statement quite clear

“The dead, it would appear,” Marcone said. He started for the high seat and offered a hand to Molly. She glowered at him but took his hand and rose with a polite nod. He spoke in a low, intent voice that wouldn’t be overheard by most of the room. “Assess Mab, please, Winter Lady.”

Molly stared at him for a second. Then she went over to the hole in the stone wall behind high seat. She stared for moment and said, “What’s on the other side of the wall?”

“Storage,” Marcone said

“On the other side of that,” pg. 382 Let Marcone help you up Molly.

Yes Marcone call out LaChaise

“Are you a coward, sir,” Marcone asked, his voice deadly quiet.

“A question, sir,” Marcone said. “Not a statement.”

“Tread carefully, mortal,” LaChaise said. “I would be pleased to use your own entrails to make sausage links.”

“I ask the question,” Marcone said, “because your next actions will show everyone here what you are, LaChaise.”

“Marcone’s voice cracked out. You are a guest, sir. In my house.” pg. 384 Let him have it! Marcone’s so cool

“Once you awaken them, frighten them, you anger them. They will lash out at any supernatural threat they can find” pg. 386 Yep humans are scary

“It meant that the Last Titan was in league with the Outsiders.” pg. 390 Oh no

Yes Marcone taking control of the situation

“But Chicago’s streets had changed.” pg. 394 Oh no

“And being initiated to the supernatural world was difficult even when it happened gently-much less when it rolled up and ripped someone’s face off.” pg. 396 It’ll be interesting to see what happens when the masquerade comes off

“You fool,” he said. “You damned fool.” pg. 399 Oh no

“Don’t you see, boy? You’ll be vulnerable, compromised. Mab, and this creature, they’re isolating you. That’s what abusers do.” pg. 402 Yep

“And then me and the old man went to war.” pg. 403 Oh no

“But he deserved the truth. Had to have it, really.” pg. 411 This is how you’re going to tell him

“Good talk.” I said. “Wizard McCoy.” pg. 413 My heart :( ow will they ever recover from this?

“It hurts” I said quietly. “Oh God. It hurts.” pg. 416 Poor Harry :(

“The Eye of Balor” pg. 420 The what?

Alfred!

Lara stop

“Murphy was holding a live grenade to either side of their heads.” pg. 439 Murphy what are you doing?!?

“Gods, that’s hot,” pg. 440 Ha

“I’d heard the tone before. Back when I’d had to put the fear of, well me, into a vampire named Bianca. We’d sort of been amicable opponents up until that point. Things changed when I’d made her feel helpless. Things had gotten a little complicated.” pg. 441 Bianca just keeps haunting the narrative she’s been dead for what a decade? We’re still dealing with the repercussions of her party.

Ok so Harry’s plan is to trap Ethniu

“I thought of the hideous scarlet light of the Eye, tearing through Marcone’s little fortress.” pg. 455 Final Marcone mention and how are they going to get Ethniu to DeamonReach?

Final thoughts

Good book. I liked the fights and thought it was funny. I wish there were more Marcone moments but I always want that so that’s not new. We're up to Bi Harry 48 moments and Bi Murphy 2. Not sure how everyone is going to defeat the Formor and trap Ethniu. I’m sad about Eb and Harry’s fight. I was too sad to comment much about the fight. Poor Thomas I’m not sure how he’s going to come back and I have no idea what’s going on with Justine. I want someone to punch Carlos and co. for their “intervention” and I want to punch Luccio. That was such a long rant not sure if it made any sense. I think that was the fastest I’ve ever read a chapter book before. Only six days. While I want Carlos to get punched I am concerned about him. With his talk of pliers in cold case, the talk about lower power practices, and how he’s always been more of the White Council favorite than Harry. I can see him getting more extreme or more in line with the fanatics. I liked the dad Harry moments. I loved the Harry/Murphy moments. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I can’t wait for Harry to be kicked out of the White Council. What have they done for Harry?

Onto the comics. Not sure how I’m going to format that. Yes I’m procrastinating reading Battle ground. I’m not ready.

[clivesdale-private-eye]

"Ernest Hemingway said 'The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.' I believe the second part."

good evening. my name is dallas wolfe.

i’m a private detective. my office is in clivesdale, but i take cases around the county.

i’m a cisgender man, and an aromantic asexual. i’m not interested in a romantic relationship, but if it’s companionship you want, i can do that.

and if you see anything supernatural - let me know. i’m always a phone call away.

Hi! I’m Dell, the creator of this blog. You can follow me @dellonthebell - I can't follow on this account, it's a sideblog, so I'll follow you there! I’m really excited to join in the Hatchetfield OC scene.

Dallas is a detective, inspired mostly by archetypal detectives in horror, like Thatcher Davis (The Mandela Catalogue), L Lawliet (Death Note), Peter Strahm (Saw), Hopper (Stranger Things), William Somerset (Se7en), and other characters like Michael Afton (FNaF).

He’s in his mid-thirties, and isn’t exactly inclined towards the supernatural of Hatchetfield, but he’d probably be favored by Webby and Blinky.

Feel free to send anons in any time! He's gotten help from them in the middle of RPs before, I welcome it!!

If I were to cast a Starkid to play him in live-action, it would be Jeff Blim.

Responses to anons are tagged as #anonymous tip. Feel free to send asks any time to start an RP, or private message me!

I hope he’s fun! I don’t have an image of him, but I have a picrew!

[qiyra]

hey uhm your addition about faggots being specifically made to cause more pain during witch burnings is just straight up wrong.

like stop spreading misinformation???

it's just a bundle of sticks to use in a fire. that could be your oven at home, a campfire or whatever else you'd need a fire for.

where did you even learn that blatantly wrong information and just accepted it to be true???

Quick answer: you don’t know the etymology of the word beyond the 1300s definition and you’re mad that other people do.

Here’s a resource that semi supports your statement that faggot doesn’t mean what I said, however, historical accuracy doesn’t quite matter when in the face of people actually using the word to mean something else

And here’s an answer that directly references the historical usage. Surprise! It comes from the church!

https://www.grammarphobia.com/blog/2009/07/a-burning-question.html

Q: I am 58 years old and I learned back in sixth grade that “faggot,” the derogatory term for a gay man, is derived from a term for bundles of wood used to burn witches and anyone else thought to be evil. The last time I looked, Wikipedia pooh-poohed this idea. What’s the scoop?

A: When the word “faggot” first showed up in English around 1300, it meant simply a bundle of sticks, twigs, or small branches bound together for fuel, according to the Oxford English Dictionary.

There was no suggestion that the resultant fire would be used to burn witches, heretics, or anyone else thought to be evil. The word is still used today in the sense of kindling, especially in Britain.

It wasn’t until the mid-16th century that the term was used in reference to the burning alive of heretics. The first citation in the OED, dating from around 1555, is by Hugh Latimer, an Anglican bishop.

In a collection of sermons and other writings, Latimer refers to “a few flying apostates, running out of Germany for fear of the fagot.” (Note that the term here refers to the kindling, not the heretics.)

In the late 16th century, “faggot” also came to be “a term of abuse or contempt applied to a woman,” according to the OED. The first citation for this usage is in a 1591 discourse on the immorality of Athens.

Thomas Lodge, the author of the discourse, uses the term “faggot” in reference to “an Athenian she handfull.” Why would a woman (even a “she handfull”) be called a “faggot”?

The word sleuth Dave Wilton, on his website Wordorigins.org, speculates that the usage “probably comes from the idea of a faggot being a burden or baggage (not unlike the modern ball and chain).”

Not until the early 20th century did the word “faggot” come to mean a male homosexual. The OED describes this usage as “slang (orig. and chiefly U.S.).”

The first published reference is from an entry in a 1914 slang dictionary: “Drag, Example: ‘All the fagots (sissies) will be dressed in drag at the ball tonight.’ “

It’s no surprise, of course, that a term for a woman would one day be applied to a gay man. Another feminine term, “queen,” has been used since the 1890s to refer to a male homosexual.

“Fag,” in this sense, is simply an abbreviation of “faggot.” It’s been around since the 1920s.

In an early citation (from Death in the Afternoon, 1932), Hemingway sneers at “those interested parties who are continually proving that Leonardo Da Vinci, Shakespeare, etc. were fags.”

The noun “fag” has many other meanings today, especially in Britain. For example, it may refer to a cigarette or to a younger student who performs chores for an older one at an English public school.

Why is a public-school drudge called a “fag”? This meaning comes from the use of the verb “fag” in the sense of to work to exhaustion.

As for the cigarette sense, the OED suggests that it may be derived from the use of “fag” to mean something that hangs loose, as in the fag end of a piece of cloth. But where does this hanging-loose business come from?

It seems that an obsolete meaning of the verb “fag” was to droop, decline, or flag. The OED says this sense is of “obscure etymology,” but “the common view” is that it resulted from a corruption of the verb “flag.”

[bi-buckrights]

Top 9 Books

Tagged by @hippolotamus ✨

1. East of Eden by John Steinbeck

GOD this book changed me. A classic good vs evil written so so beautifully.

2. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

I have read this books several times now and it never fails to make me bawl my eyes out.

3. House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

IF YOU HAVE T READ THIS BOOK WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? GO READ IT NOW!! Stories within stories and you will feel like you’re losing your mind as the characters spiral and lose their grip on reality it’s SO COOL

4. The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Like many others, I grew up watching this movie. However, I did not discover the book until fairly recently. Filled with just as much humor, adventure, and love as the movie, plus a unique and humorous narration that will have you scouring the internet for the original unabridged version of the book by S. Morgenstern

5. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas

Holy shit this book is long and gets so fucking boring but when all the pieces start to fall into place it is absolutely mind blowing and so worth it

6. A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

“And you’ll always love me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And the rain won’t make any difference?”

“No.”

One of my favorite love stories. I cried. Buddie au with a happy ending will happen one day

7. Eragon by Christopher Paolini

Can’t have a book list without the book that ignited my love for reading. It will always have a special place in my heart 💕

8. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Ha remember when I read this the first time in high school and was like “I relate to these guys even though I’m totally completely straight.” Ha who was I kidding

9. The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Man, stonemasons don’t travel from town to town asking if anyone needs a cathedral to be built like they used to 😔 no but this book has such beautiful imagery weaving through history. Another book about good vs. evil. Hmm.

Tagging if any one else wants to share some books ✨ @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @rogerzsteven @spotsandsocks @eddiebabygirldiaz @heartshapedvows @cowboy-buddie

[softsadsassysweet]

I have a lot of mixed feelings about Julia as a character and I whole heartedly believe that that’s the entire point.

This is a long one so buckle up buttercups.

I have so many questions for her.

Why didn’t she go with Spike when he left the syndicate?

Why did she doubt that Spike loved her?

Why reduce Faye to a messenger after revealing she knew who she was? Why not just have Faye take her to Spike?

Why did she apparently know so much about the Bebop crew, but still never sought out Spike?

What is the whole purpose of Julia as a character?

I relate to Faye and Jet, and their frustration if not their damn near resentment of her existence. From their perspective, she pulls Spike away from them. In Jets words, her name is “like a spell that unlocks a door”.

The audience, just like the crew, is robbed of any kind of access to her. Then before we can even begin to get attached to her, she’s gone.

We have a lot of beautiful poetry, stories, music, and references to classic authors like Hemingway in this series that act as echoes to possibly help explain the story. What if there are other story structures that aren’t as on the nose?

I was driving to Atlanta and listening to “The Great Gatsby”. The week before I had comfort binged Bebop. It all felt familiar and to me they echoed each other. The more I analyzed Julia, the more I saw parallels from the Great Gatsby. She reminds me so much of Daisy.

Just to break it down simply how I saw it:

Vicious would be fulfilling the role of Tom.

Spike in the role of Gatsby.

Julia in the role of Daisey.

The Bebop crew would be in the empathetic role of Nick Caraway.

In the Great Gatsby, the tragedy is told from Nick Caraways perspective. We get all of the context through him and what he sees and understands.

Similar to Daisy, the audience lacks a lot of empathy for Julia’s decisions because our perspective of the situation does.

In order to relate Julia to Daisey, I need to go into more detail about how I view Daisey from the great Gatsby.

Rather than viewing her as somebody who is obsessed with her money and no accountability, I actually see Daisey as a deeply flawed person and a victim of circumstance. I also believe she wholeheartedly loved both Jay and Tom.

She was ultimately a woman trapped between two men who were obsessed with the idea of her. She never got to be herself. She was never truly free.

I understand why we as an audience would see Gatsby as the obvious person for her to choose, but we have a biased view of Gatsby because Nick Caraway is our narrator. The harsh reality of it is that Gatsby was a criminal. He also didn’t accept Daisey for who she truly is. He was in love with the idea of her and who she was in his past. He couldn’t accept her evolving story and that she at one point she did love Tom.

In the wise words of Daniel Sloss:

“If you don’t love 100% of who I am, you do not love me.

You love an idea of me, which you have falsely fabricated in your head.

And it’s not my fault if I don’t live up to those expectations.”

When Spike asked Julia to run away with him she flat out said no and he shot back with “Yes you can.” That was a red flag for me. This appeared strongly to me as a romanticized one sided decision and that he wasn’t listening to her. He also gave her the information on how they were going to run away, he didn’t bother to include her on making the plans.

Just, YIKES.

Gatsby is an unreliable narrator for Daisy just like Spike is an unreliable narrator for Julia.

Julia saw one man who was abusive and controlling, and the other was seemingly good to her but not truly in love with her. And there’s a huge indicator that she doubted Spike really loved her, RIGHT HERE!!!

“Why did you love me.”

To me, Julia refused to have salvation in either of them.

Julia is an impressive character because she ultimately chose herself.

Daisy didn’t get the option of that choice. In my opinion, Daisey was practically trapped with Tom because he had her child and seemingly the most security. She also just committed a murder, and needed the protection. If she chose herself, of course Tom would have her arrested.

Spike and Vicious are two men who are impossible to say no to for different reasons. Julia (IN MY BIG FAT OPINION) chose loneliness over being someone’s idealization. Her inner strength made her truly alive.

“She was a real woman.”

On a more vulnerable perspective, I also believe fear kept Julia from Spike. In Jupiter Jazz there were some incredibly incriminate quotes said about her in a flashback.

Vicious: “Be careful when you’re with that woman.”

Julia: “All women are liars, don’t you know that?”

It seemed like Julia’s gift and what she provided to Vicious and the syndicate, was deception.

This visual in my opinion is an example of her deceptive nature. It feels incredibly sinister to me, not romantic.

Her hand on the back of his head weaving her fingers into Spikes hair feels like she’s snaring her way into his mind. His eyes are covered and most likely closed while hers are wide open. To me, doesn’t appear romantic. She’s in control. Julia sees what’s coming and Spike doesn’t.

I don’t know what Julia’s intentions were. Hell, we had more access to Daisey’s intentions than Julia.

Daisey wanted to be loved. But what did Julia want? I think her actions scream the loudest and this is my own personal opinion.

I believe Julia wanted autonomy.

Even if it meant being hunted, it would be her life. Even if it meant being alone, it would be her life. She wouldn’t be “free” on Vicious’s terms. She wouldn’t be free on Spike’s terms either. Julia chose a destiny that revolved around no man.

Julia chose herself, and that makes her a much more interesting and powerful character than Daisey.

I think however, did Spike surprise her. I think she did feel deep affection for him. I think when she saw him again she was full of regret. I truly feel her plea to Spike in the graveyard was genuine.

Her hand is closed, not ensnared in this moment. Her eyes are closed and she looks peaceful. She’s surrendered control.

Spike’s eyes are wide open and his expression feels hollow and apathetic. To me this indicates the power dynamic has switched.

Julia had a painful case of “what could have been” when she sees Spike again at last.

I think the graveyard was a huge turning point in her story arc. I think that was the moment she truly decided to belong to someone else.

And then after making the decision to be with him, their time is cut painfully short.

To me, she deserved better than just existing as an element of pining for our main character and then suddenly murdered to propel Spike’s arc.

But, Julia has had her own adventures and her own life for the past three years. She is a whole other story we’ve never had access to. She is a whole person outside of the Bebop crews’ perspective. There’s a lot of power in that unknown.

There’s a lot of power with Julia.