#because it is not the book we are talking about

[anna-scribbles]

you know all of those movies and shows about princesses and twins and twin princesses and swapping places etc etc. well miraculous ladybug is actually also one of those shows, it is just told from the angle of “what if the twin princess was your mom and she gave you so many issues”

[proleposting]

Further lessons from On Tyranny:

1. Do not obey in advance. Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked.  A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.

2. Defend institutions. It is institutions that help us to preserve decency.  They need our help as well.  Do not speak of "our institutions" unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf.  Institutions do not protect themselves.  They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning.  So choose an institution you care about -- a court, a newspaper, a law, a labor union -- and take its side.

3. Beware the one-party state. The parties that remade states and suppressed rivals were not omnipotent from the start.  They exploited a historic moment to make political life impossible for their opponents.  So support the multiple-party system and defend the rules of democratic elections.  Vote in local and state elections while you can.  Consider running for office.

4. Take responsibility for the face of the world. The symbols of today enable the reality of tomorrow.  Notice the swastikas and the other signs of hate.  Do not look away, and do not get used to them.  Remove them yourself and set an example for others to do so.

5. Remember professional ethics. When political leaders set a negative example, professional commitments to just practice become more important. It is hard to subvert a rule-of-law state without lawyers, or to hold show trials without judges.  Authoritarians need obedient civil servants, and concentration camp directors seek businessmen interested in cheap labor.

6. Be wary of paramilitaries. When the men with guns who have always claimed to be against the system start wearing uniforms and marching with torches and pictures of a leader, the end is nigh.  When the pro-leader paramilitary and the official police and military intermingle, the end has come.

7. Be reflective if you must be armed. If you carry a weapon in public service, may God bless you and keep you.  But know that evils of the past involved policemen and soldiers finding themselves, one day, doing irregular things.  Be ready to say no.

8. Stand out. Someone has to. It is easy to follow along. It can feel strange to do or say something different. But without that unease, there is no freedom. Remember Rosa Parks. The moment you set an example, the spell of the status quo is broken, and others will follow.

9. Be kind to our language. Avoid pronouncing the phrases everyone else does. Think up your own way of speaking, even if only to convey that thing you think everyone is saying. Make an effort to separate yourself from the internet. Read books.

10. Believe in truth. To abandon facts is to abandon freedom. If nothing is true, then no one can criticize power, because there is no basis upon which to do so.  If nothing is true, then all is spectacle.  The biggest wallet pays for the most blinding lights.

11. Investigate. Figure things out for yourself.  Spend more time with long articles. Subsidize investigative journalism by subscribing to print media.  Realize that some of what is on the internet is there to harm you.  Learn about sites that investigate propaganda campaigns (some of which come from abroad).  Take responsibility for what you communicate with others.

12. Make eye contact and small talk. This is not just polite. It is part of being a citizen and a responsible member of society. It is also a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down social barriers, and understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life.

13. Practice corporeal politics. Power wants your body softening in your chair and your emotions dissipating on the screen. Get outside. Put your body in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Make new friends and march with them.

14. Establish a private life. Nastier rulers will use what they know about you to push you around. Scrub your computer of malware on a regular basis. Remember that email is skywriting. Consider using alternative forms of the internet, or simply using it less. Have personal exchanges in person. For the same reason, resolve any legal trouble. Tyrants seek the hook on which to hang you. Try not to have hooks.

15. Contribute to good causes. Be active in organizations, political or not, that express your own view of life. Pick a charity or two and set up autopay. Then you will have made a free choice that supports civil society and helps others to do good.

16. Learn from peers in other countries. Keep up your friendships abroad, or make new friends in other countries. The present difficulties in the United States are an element of a larger trend. And no country is going to find a solution by itself. Make sure you and your family have passports.

17. Listen for dangerous words. Be alert to use of the words "extremism" and "terrorism." Be alive to the fatal notions of "emergency" and "exception." Be angry about the treacherous use of patriotic vocabulary.

18. Be calm when the unthinkable arrives. Modern tyranny is terror management. When the terrorist attack comes, remember that authoritarians exploit such events in order to consolidate power. The sudden disaster that requires the end of checks and balances, the dissolution of opposition parties, the suspension of freedom of expression, the right to a fair trial, and so on, is the oldest trick in the Hitlerian book. Do not fall for it.

19. Be a patriot. Set a good example of what America means for the generations to come. They will need it.

20. Be as courageous as you can. If none of us is prepared to die for freedom, then all of us will die under tyranny.

These lessons are the openings of the twenty chapters of On Tyranny, by Timothy Snyder.

[zerocoded]

hm. so. homecoming wings spoilers, be warned.

i just finished caleb’s branch on the main story and i’m actually crying? i’m not going to talk about the little holes they left on the story because the game was never about scratching the player’s itch of writing excellency like a book would do…

but why did our farewell with caleb sounded so bittersweet? like we actually “lost” our childhood bestfriend or the idea we had of him and there is no comfort after that. that is just there, in plain sight: we are not happy with him and we let him go in weird terms. them leaving things as they were pissed me sooo much! but again, i must consider the cards and extra content after that happened… so we are actually in good terms, or something like that.

infold really put the yandere behavior on him and i love it! at the same time, they let us feel that teenage loving side of him to ease a little (and confuse) our brains.

the sleeping pills??? the “sit back” voice??? the “i want to protect you so much that i’m ok with being the bad guy in your head as long as i keep you safe”???

🔊 THE CUP SCENE. YES. OH MY GAWD. and then his reaction like “are you finished?” after that- LORD HAVE MERCY. his battle attire, animation and lines are my favorite now! (after lumiére ofc)

caleb is so hot and his memories and cards are so unique!!! you get that feeling of first love and intimacy only the mc’s trope with him can give us. AND HE IS CRAZY ABOUT US AND IF YOU DONT LIKE THAT I FEEL SO SORRY FOR YOU. cause you’re missing out on this guy.

what really got me was his yearning, his trailers really gave us that and i’m glad it wasn’t just trope bait. he looks disheartened when he sees that we are ACTUALLY pissed at him. and when he goes to ruffle our hair and then stops his hands when we’re saying goodbye? OH NO MY SHAYLA.

this was me yapping. i’m not disappointed at all, the 3.0 version is full of nice features. it’s a shame the game is mostly a scam, but who am i to complain right? i’ll watch everything on yt later <3 CALEB YOU’RE SO HOT PLS GIVE ME A CHANCE.

anyways, live laugh love caleb.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change of Heart - 3 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Where is she?" he asked.

"Australia, sir."

Bucky froze in place when he heard that. Australia? It was so unlike you. In all the time you spent together, you always talked about visiting Europe. That was your dream—to save enough money to open a café there, buy a boat, and travel around the continent.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. It didn’t matter now. At least he finally knew where you were.

"Prepare the jet," he commanded.

After his security team gave him the location, Bucky immediately called his pilot to prepare the plane. Within minutes, he was on his private jet, accompanied by his assistant, who sat nervously across from him.

The assistant hesitated before asking, “Sir, when do you want to reschedule the meeting?”

Bucky didn’t look up from his phone. “If I’m not in the company, there’s a vice president. Let him attend the meeting instead. The company pays him a high salary for a reason. If he makes the wrong agreement at the meeting, I’ll fire him.”

The assistant swallowed hard, his hands fidgeting with the pen in his lap. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Bucky leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the cushion as silence settled between them. The hum of the jet’s engines filled the cabin. His gaze drifted to the window, the clouds blurring past.

The matter of this marriage was far more complicated than any company matter.

He broke the silence. “Do you ever have marriage trouble?”

The assistant’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question. “Uh… yes, sir.”

Bucky turned his head slightly toward him. “Have you ever argued to the point where your wife left the house?”

The assistant hesitated, his hands stilling. “That’s… no, sir. We argue sometimes, but not to that extent.”

Bucky exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I see.”

His situation wasn’t like those couples who separated after endless fights. This marriage was different—it was based on a contract. There was no need for messy legal proceedings or divorce lawyers. No drawn-out drama. It was supposed to be simple, painless.

But it wasn’t.

He rested his elbow on the armrest, his fingers pressing against his temple as memories of his parents’ divorce flashed through his mind. He’d witnessed it all—the yelling, the accusations, the blame. He could still remember the cold, suffocating atmosphere in the negotiation room as both sides tore each other apart. And they’d forced him, a child, to sit there and watch.

They called it love once, but what he saw was anything but. His parents acted like children while he was expected to be the adult.

Marriage was supposed to be a union between two mature individuals who respected its meaning. His parents may have loved each other once, but they destroyed that love with betrayal and adultery.

It was full of lies and deception. For young Bucky, hearing the arguments was painful. Even now, he still feels a lingering resentment toward his parents.

Bucky shook his head, clearing the bitter thoughts. He’d never wanted a traditional marriage because of them. When his grandfather, Paul, had told him he needed to marry to inherit the company, Bucky had been clueless about what to do.

That’s when he remembered a friend mentioning a matchmaking agency. “It’s expensive, but it’s worth it,” his friend had said.

And it was expensive—but it was worth it. With you, he’d fulfilled his grandfather’s condition and taken over the company. You were his perfect partner.

At least, that’s what he thought.

He rubbed his chin as he rewound every moment he’d spent with you, searching for something he might have missed. He couldn’t think of a single instance where he had disrespected you. Both of you respected each other’s personal space and schedules. He knew you had a close relationship with Grace, your best friend.

Friends.

Friends?

His brows furrowed. Now that he thought about it, Grace was the only friend of yours he really knew. While you had met most of his circle, he knew almost nothing about yours.

Bucky leaned forward, clasping his hands together tightly. After giving it more thought, he realized the imbalance in your marriage. He was the dominant one, the one whose needs and routines shaped the relationship.

And he had barely noticed.

His jaw tightened, the weight of his ignorance sinking in. For the first time, he wondered if that was why you left.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After a long flight, Bucky’s plane finally touched down at the destination. He had managed to close his eyes during the journey, but rest was impossible—his thoughts were consumed by you. Memories, questions, and unspoken words replayed endlessly in his mind.

As he stepped off the plane, the crisp air hit his face, bringing a brief sense of clarity. The head of his security team approached him immediately.

"Sir, we’ve found her location," the man reported.

"Where is she?" Bucky asked, his voice sharp with urgency.

The security detail led Bucky toward the docks, their hurried footsteps crunching against the gravel. His heart was pounding, each step feeling heavier as the weight of anticipation bore down on him. He scanned the area, his sharp eyes searching frantically for any sign of you.

And then, he saw you.

There you were, standing near the edge of the dock, the soft breeze tugging at your hair as you stared out at the endless horizon. The setting sun cast a golden glow around you, making you look almost ethereal, like a mirage he’d conjured in his desperation.

His breath hitched. Relief washed over him first, flooding his chest so quickly that it nearly brought him to his knees. After days of relentless searching, and agonizing over where you could be, there you were—within reach.

But then came the ache. A sharp, searing pain in his chest that he hadn’t expected. Seeing you standing so calmly as if the world hadn’t turned upside down for him, struck a chord deep within. You looked so at peace, so distant, and he couldn’t understand it.

His legs moved before his mind could catch up. He closed the distance between you in long, determined strides, his emotions spiraling into a chaotic storm. Relief, anger, confusion, longing—it all melded together as his voice broke through the silence.

He called your name, loud and raw, the sound carrying across the water.

You turned, startled, your wide eyes locking with his. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. He saw the flicker of surprise on your face, the way your lips parted slightly as if you were about to say something. But what shook him most was what he didn’t see.

There was no regret in your eyes.

Bucky’s chest tightened, his fists clenching instinctively at his sides. How could you look at him like that—so calm, so unaffected—when he’d been unraveling without you? He reached you in a few quick strides, his hand shooting out to grab yours before you could move another step.

Bucky’s heart pounded as he called out your name, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves. You turned, visibly startled but composed, no trace of regret on your face.

He didn’t stop running until he reached you, grabbing your hand before you could step onto the yacht. "Why did you leave?" he demanded, his tone raw with frustration. "Didn’t I say we’d talk this through?"

You look at him, your eyes steady but filled with quiet resolve. “I don’t want to continue the marriage contract."

“I know.” He fell silent, his gaze locking onto yours. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

"No," you replied, shaking your head with a soft smile. "Didn’t you get the letter I left for you?"

Bucky frowned, the words unsettling him. The letter? What could it possibly say that justified this?

"It’s not you," you said, your tone steady. "It’s me."

"Lies," he shot back, his voice clipped with disbelief.

"It’s not," you insisted firmly.

"Explain it to me like I’m five years old," he demanded, his frustration and confusion bubbling to the surface.

You sighed, gathering your thoughts. "In the contract, we promised no lies, no deception. We even agreed that if one of us developed feelings, the marriage would end before things got messy."

Your gaze softened as you added, "Bucky, I love you."

The confession hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him stunned and speechless. He had braced himself for accusations, for anger, but not this.

You took advantage of his silence, gently pulling your hand free from his grasp. You turned to the captain of the yacht and gave a subtle nod, signaling him to start the engine.

As the boat began to drift away from the dock, Bucky’s senses returned. "Where are you going?" he called out, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Anywhere," you replied, your words floating back to him.

Standing at the edge of the dock, he could only watch as the boat carried you farther away.

From your place on the yacht, you glanced back at him. “What a fool,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I told everyone not to let you find me.”

The captain, standing at the helm, turned to you and asked, “How far do you want to go?”

"Keep sailing until I say stop," you said, your tone resolute.

"Alright," the captain replied, steering the yacht into the open sea.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The yacht moved steadily through the endless expanse of blue, its wake cutting a gentle path through the water. You stood at the edge of the deck, the wind brushing against your face, carrying with it the salty tang of the sea. The horizon stretched infinitely, meeting the sky in a blur of hazy gold and blue. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the breeze tangle your hair and the sun warm your skin.

“It’s beautiful,” you thought. The kind of beauty that felt untouched, unclaimed—exactly what you were searching for.

“This is it,” you murmured, barely audible to yourself.

With steady steps, you approached the captain’s cabin. He glanced at you briefly, his expression questioning.

“Stop here,” you said.

“Are you sure?” His voice carried the weight of uncertainty.

“Yes.” Your answer was firm, final.

He nodded and went to work, releasing the anchor with a heavy clunk as it descended into the ocean’s depths. The yacht slowed to a gentle halt, rocking slightly with the rhythm of the waves.

Without hesitation, you peeled off your clothes, revealing the simple swimsuit underneath. The air felt cool against your skin, but it didn’t matter. You stepped to the edge of the deck, your toes curling over the rim. For a brief second, you inhaled deeply, and then you leaped.

The water embraced you like an old friend. It was cold but refreshing, its weight washing over you, pulling you into its quiet, endless depths. You swam, letting your body move freely, unbound by the constraints of gravity or obligation.

You dove deeper, the light above you diffusing into shimmering rays that danced like silver ribbons. Down here, there were no walls to confine you, no contracts to dictate your actions. It was just you and the ocean—an infinite space where you could finally breathe.

For the first time in years, you felt free.

You floated on your back, staring up at the vast sky. The sun cast a golden glow across the water’s surface, making it sparkle like liquid diamonds. You let out a long breath, your body rising and falling with the gentle waves. This was what you had been looking for—a release from the weight of expectations and the burden of feeling tethered to things you didn’t truly want.

You didn’t understand why, but in this moment of letting go—of money, of love, of the life you’d meticulously built—you felt alive.

All your life, it had been about money. Growing up with a father whose high income only highlighted what was still lacking, you learned early that nothing was ever enough. There was always another competition to win, another prize to chase. Independence wasn’t just encouraged; it was demanded.

Money became your anchor, the thing that kept you afloat. You thrived on it, obsessed over it. You checked your bank accounts daily, reveling in the sight of green numbers climbing higher and higher. It was intoxicating, the sense of control and success that came with it.

Each time you earned more money, it was a step closer to impressing your parents. Impressing them became a lifelong goal—one that would finally make them say, “We’re proud of you.” But no matter how much you earned, it was never enough.

And then there was love—a concept you understood in theory but never cared to possess. Money filled the void better than any romantic notion ever could. Love was messy, complicated, and it demanded sacrifices you weren’t willing to make. Money didn’t ask for your vulnerability; it only required your focus, your ambition, your endless thirst for more.

The two were the same, you realized. Money and love—they both left you parched, chasing something that always seemed just out of reach.

Then what were the other things that made you confront money and love at the same time?

When you joined the matchmaking agency to find a wealthy partner, you hadn’t really thought it through. There wasn’t a grand plan, just the vague hope of finding someone who could meet your terms. Honestly, you expected the candidates to be older men—someone seeking a companion to attend events with, nothing more. You had even specified one unique condition in your profile: no intimacy.

So, it came as a shock when the person who agreed to your circumstances turned out to be Bucky Barnes—a man only two years older than you. Not only that, but he was willing to pay an impressive amount to seal the deal.

When it was Bucky’s turn to lay out his requirements, everything seemed to align perfectly. He needed a partner who could convincingly play the role of a devoted spouse, just long enough for him to inherit his family’s company. You knew you could handle that. Pretending to be his loving wife? It felt like an easy role to play.

His parents were simple to fool, far less intimidating than your own strict, demanding family. The real challenge, however, was his grandfather, Paul. With his sharp eyes and no-nonsense demeanor, Paul had a knack for spotting liars. Yet, even he couldn’t see through you. You gave him exactly what he longed for—a granddaughter-in-law who treated him with genuine care. That part was easy because you understood what it felt like to crave love and approval.

The first year flew by without a hitch. You and Bucky played your roles to perfection. The arrangement opened doors for both of you—financially and socially. When the time came to discuss extending the contract for another year, you agreed without hesitation. The benefits far outweighed any drawbacks.

But then, somewhere in the second year, things began to shift. You started to feel something for Bucky—something dangerous. It wasn’t part of the deal, and you hated yourself for it. From the start, Bucky had been upfront about his feelings—or lack thereof. For him, love was a waste of time. He had no use for romance, and you had respected that. Until now.

You couldn’t stop it, though. No matter how hard you tried to suppress your emotions, they crept in, uninvited. It was written clearly in your agreement: no feelings, no complications. If either party broke that rule, the contract would be terminated immediately.

So, you buried your feelings as best you could. Love was messy, unpredictable, and it made you want things you couldn’t have. It filled your mind with fantasies, leaving you restless and craving more. And you despised it.

You just needed to hold on a little longer.

But then, everything changed.

Two days before the marriage contract was set to end, something happened—something you hadn’t anticipated.

And in that moment, you realized nothing would ever be the same again.

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[sunshine6ixty]

i think this is where i've landed with the whole gaiman thing.

some background, i was a gaiman girlie. i paid money to see him speak, i volunteered for a signing, i've taken pictures in front of the world's largest carousel; hugely formative, resonated on a level that nothing else i've encountered did, and so on and so on etcetera. (i got to say "mr gaiman i wouldn't be who i am today without your books" to him, which is a Different Flavored Memory now than it once was, i can tell you)

and like. though his books had a familiar and fond place in my life, i'd already gotten to a point of... nebulous disenchantment? not disgust or anything-- just that nature was taking its course, and i was drifting away. i started reading neil gaiman at age... what, thirteen? maybe eleven? and i read his work consistently for a while. i'm in my thirties now, and i haven't been keeping track, but i've read american gods once a year for at least the past five years. it was just... kinda time, in a way. he seemed like he'd said what he had to say, and was coasting in a perpetual victory lap, which i was fine with. i'd just... keep picking at the gaiman books again when i was bored.

and i remember thinking, around when i first noticed this distance i'd been feeling, that i was just... running dry. things felt stale and i didn't know where to look to change that.

and then this all happened.

and all of a sudden, my perception of this person has been wrenched into a completely new perspective. just, twisted sideways, seams popping, eyes bugging, can't-unbreak-the-action-figure wrenched. the spell is broken, in an ironically gaiman-esque way, and this mythic figure (~*nEIL GAIman*~) is revealed to be just a shitty, spoiled brat of a complete fucking monster.

i've read the article, i've heard the stories about how weird he was for doctor who, i've seen not-unreasonable allegations of plagarism floating around-- suffice it to say, he's just a shit of a dude. he's... not special. not really. he's a good writer who said one thing with his work, and lived another. who saw something that resonated, and put his name on it. who said something that we felt, and said he gave it to us.

and i realized, from this angle, that the reason i was feeling so dried out was likely because neil gaiman (some might say purposefully) took all the fucking air out of the room. like, nobody was neil gaiman, right, so what right could you have to try to do a neil gaiman? he was the only gaiman. the apex of gaiman. peak gaiman. the mystical, profound, monotheistic god of dark poetic storytelling.

but like. he wasn't. it turns out, he was just a shitty dude. magic or no, he was mostly just entitled.

and i think that sort of broke something in me. if the curtain was pulled back and there was just a weird, shitty little dude in there, then what the fuck have i been doing? in an... i-should-probably-talk-to-a-therapist-about-this sort of way, neil gaiman kept me from writing! like-- i was a kid who took pictures of graves at age five, who made up a story about a child bricked up in the school belltower who's ghost still wandered the halls (and published it in the school newspaper, next to what flavor milk does mrs k's 5th grade class prefer), who believed there was a door to another world beneath their neighbor's ornamental bush, who mapped the lost city (/junk dump) in the open space drainage ditch! this is the stuff i did before i knew gaiman! i liked gaiman because i was into this stuff already, and then after a while, without me really noticing it, neil gaiman became this stuff. the only source of it. the only rightful creator of a gaiman.

and like... if you know you can't do it like neil gaiman, because he's him and you're not, you kind of start despairing before you even begin, right?

fuck that.

i think, what i can take away from the whole debacle is this: it's time for all of us who have ever felt like this to do a gaiman.

... by which i mean, make our art. not the other stuff.

you have every right to be as audacious as neil gaiman with your art. take it as seriously, tell everyone it's as important. put that thing down on paper; the thing you otherwise wouldn't.

look, chances are, you're actually a better person than neil gaiman. he sucks. he was a skilled craftsman, but skill can be learned. what he did was practice and talk himself up. and there is nothing magical about neil gaiman that hasn't also run beneath our fingertips.

there was never anything unique about ~*neiLGAiman*~. not really. neil just made him up to be the special-est most darkest and dreamiest boy there ever was, and it was a fucking lie, and its insidious the degree to which it ate an entire genre.

because, honestly? i want to read more shit like neil gaiman! i've been hungry for more of what he said was solely his for so fucking long! i want to see what weird, fever-dream stories we've all been sitting on because he ate the entire ecosystem! i want to read all of the beautiful, terrible, fucked-up magical things from everyone that never saw the light of day because neil was too busy basking in it!

and now that the mask is off, it's fucking time. i'm going to take my shit back, neil. fuck you.

in a weird, fucked-up way, what a relief.

[messrsrarchives]

You’re starting to act just like your fascist Reggie—censoring others and trying to dictate what can and cannot be discussed in fandom. Telling people they can’t talk about politics because you, living in a first-world country, can’t handle it? You’re the one using real-world politics to justify a fictional ship with a fascist. Have you thought about how people who are genuinely anti-fascist might also dislike it in fiction? You can’t control fandom. If you want to like fascist characters, then just own it. While fiction might not feel like reality to you, for many, it is reality. Have you considered that the characters and headcanons you enjoy might reflect deeply personal experiences for others? Not everyone has the privilege to separate fiction from reality like you do.

hi feed, this message was brought to you by someone who has clearly never interacted with me ever !

WDYMMM "telling people they can't talk about politics" 😭😭 i fear that's my ENTIRE niche across two social media platforms. i fear my entire thing is politics in a fandom space + the real world. i fear that's literally what i'm known for. what 😖

i was gonna ignore this but i have so many receipts that i thought okay ! finna answer ! why not, let's entertain this <3 (below the cut because it's long)

assuming that this is a response to this post where, after watching elon perform two nazi salutes on stage, i said "hey! maybe you should stop calling people in fandom nazis for reading about a fictional character!"

what i alsooo said on that post is that it's important to discuss politics in literature (see here: doing a masters degree in english literature + politics <3). because absolutely! the DEs are crafted in a way that reflects historic events and absolutely, that's something we can discuss!

what we should also discuss is that whilst art imitiates life and life imitates art, the two do not directly reflect one another - if i read about wizards, i am not a wizard. if i read a crime book, i am not a detective. and if i read fanfic about regulus black? i am not a facist.

in regards to the censorship comment: this here is an entireeee video i made about censorship and puritanical views in fandom spaces and why this is a Bad Thing To Do (though i fear you will disagree with it because i am saying that people can read and write whatever but alas, no censorship here x)

using real world politics to justify a ship? no, not at all. i do not think ships in fandom need to be "justified" because, again, they are fiction. can they be discussed? absolutely! my tiktok is @/messrsrobyn and you will find countless videos where i dissect fandom, characters and ships. again, this is kind of my whole thing <33 nice to meet you <33 but rather for me? that post was made as a building up of (1) the mass of people in fandom during the tiktok ban saying that words have meaning when american writers say british words "wrong", but throw buzzwords around like it's nothing and (2) this is a place for escapism and safety, which is needed now more than ever and whilst discussions about politics are important, this? this ask? this is not a discussion. this is hostility, much like people just commenting "nazi" with nothing else on a jegulus post.

discussions can be had! absolutely! my entire thing is discussions in fandom. but right now i'm trying to discuss this when you have given me nothing to work with but false claims and hostility - see how this doesn't work? but alas, i'll try :)

do people read jegulus and think "wow i love voldemort and the death eaters!!! i agree with what the did here :D" or do they read jegulus and enjoy the complexity that comes with a character like him? do they enjoy how, with a character with such little canon lore, people explore things? or yk what, do they sometimes read him as a muggle where none of this matter because there's do DEs? yeah, because it's fiction. and liking a fictional character does not have repercussions on the real world.

calling someone a facist/nazi only for teading about fictional characters does - it is so incredibly important that we read immoral literature. i'm rambling now but i'm not even talking just about fandom. we NEED books that discuss these topics and we need to explore the characters within them. we NEED politics and immorality and everything like that in books because that is how we learn, understand, and prevent. reading them does make you immoral - see here: queer books being banned in the us for containing "immoral themes" and main characters doing things they deem had and awful alongside INCREDIBLYYYY important books like the handmaids tale, to kill a mockingbird, 1984, fahrenheit 451 etc etc.

we need to read these. we need to engage with them.

but in a fandom space, we also need to acknowledge that these are not real people. these are fictional characters and there's a big difference between engaging with a character because you are justifying their actions, and engaging with a character because you enjoy Exploring their character and Understanding them in as many ways as possible 🙂↕️

but we agree!! whilst fiction may not feel like reality to some people, to many it is! so have we considered that when people come to escape from the real world for a bit, or people have family members lost to past regimes; are about to enter 4 years of another regime or are holding their breath waiting for european elections to see if another far-right populist party gets in, it might sucklk to have this thrown around?

imagine dealing with alllll of that in reality, not knowing what on earth is going to happen tomorrow or what the future holds for you and the people you love, and then being called a facist online because you read about Fictional Character Regulus Black. whilst your life literally crumbles apart because of it. you are now being called the same thing that the man oppressing you and everyone you love is, because you read FanFiction.

and then finally ahem:

"not everyone has the privilege to separate fiction from reality like you do"

if you click here, you will find a tumblr post i made about this exact thing :D about how we can't separate fiction from reality

see here also: a post about the books jkr publishes under the robert galbraith pseudonym and about how we, again, cannot separate fiction from reality.

if you click here you will find my jkr playlist on tiktok which has videos in about how, again, we cannot separate fiction from reality.

what we also can't do, mind you is call someone a facist for reading a fictional character.

there is big difference between "hey! this character has facist undertones if applied irl, we could discuss this!" and "You Are A Facist For Reading It"

instead of coming and ranting to someone who has spoken extensivelyyyy about politics in this fandom space - both with fandom material and with elections, gaza, the uk riots etc etc - and is a huge advocate of dicussions and debates, put this energy into something productive.

like actual facists. real world politics and what you could be doing at a local level to help reduce the harm of Actual Facists that are in power right now. not people taking a break from Actual Facism to read fanfiction.

ta x

(p.s i'm a homeless, chronically-ill, gay, trans man. what privilege do i have in THISSS fandom space of JK ROWLINGSSSSS worlds, to separate reality from fiction? 😭)

[justallihere]

Okay, I did some laundry, I've had lunch, I've breathed fresh air and taken some deep breaths (did not touch any grass because it's covered in snow), and we're back. My wrap up thoughts of Onyx Storm are below! Be warned it's chock full of spoilers, and these are all my honest opinions. I haven't even given this a rating yet because I don't really know what I want to rate it! Nothing's really in order so sorry about that. But I look forward to hearing everyone else's thoughts!

I loved that the importance of the bond between dragon and human was emphasized so heavily in this book. That Asher called Aimsir Lilith's first love, Violet telling Tairn he's the gift of her life, that even Halden knew that the true barrier to her would be the dragon bond - and especially that when Xaden channeled again, in a way that he knew would irreversibly damn him, he did it for Sgaeyl. To keep her safe, because she chose him before and above everyone else.

I adored the Riorgail of it all. They were open and honest with each other, saying I love you practically every other breath, declaring their loyalty and devotion to each other in front of anyone who would listen. I loved that we got them as a team, facing stuff together and trusting that what they couldn't the other could handle it.

On the other hand, it may just be me but they didn't quite feel like themselves. Maybe because it was the first time we've truly seen them be public about their feelings, but they didn't feel like the same Xaden and Violet from the previous two books. Xaden felt so intense that everything he said gave me anxiety, devoted to the point of obsession. I would actually call Violet morally gray here, but it came out of nowhere; there wasn't a great transition into that change in her character, none of the hesitation or guilt I'd expect.

In short, they kind of felt like my Xaden and Violet and not canon? I loved them, but I'm not sure it matches what we know of them from FW and IF and the change in character didn't feel entirely smooth.

But Xaden IS her sword!!!!

The worldbuilding was ridiculous. Violet was dropping facts left right and center like the details of the aristocracy and politics at play were common knowledge - and maybe they are in world, but if they're that obvious then I feel like those details should've been worked into earlier books. I felt like I was floundering trying to keep up with all the new names and titles and roles.

In the same vein, the lore about magic made no sense. So only the Continent has magic but why? Was it drained from other places? Does it only occur naturally in certain areas? Dragons don't have magic that exists within them - they also draw from the source which? Hello hypocrites much? That was another thing that was said so casually, but that should've been one of those things we learned in Fourth Wing, at Threshing or right after.

There was too much happening with the plot to the point that I lost it completely. The trips to the isles were overwhelming. I know the venin and the irids were tied together, but those two things competed so much that I kept forgetting about whichever one we weren't talking about. Literally just. . . forgot about the venin there for a bit in the middle. We were looking for a cure but we were looking for Andarna's kind but we were trying to stop the venin and we were also gathering allies and making trade deals and none of those points were fleshed out completely.

The ending was vague and confusing in a way that made me frustrated instead of interested or anticipatory. I read the last two chapters three times and I still don't know what the fuck was going on there. So the Sage is. . . Fen? Is Garrick the one who also turned? Bodhi? Brennan? Ridoc? Fuck if I know. I understand the point of the marriage, to give Violet control over Tyrrendor legally, but I'm also pissed at the way it happened.

I know we don't want anyone to actually die, but I literally didn't even flinch when Mira's throat got cut open because I figured she'd be fine. There were no important deaths. Trager and Quinn didn't hit that hard. Not putting any of the main characters in significant danger makes the stakes feel lower than they should.

The fan service made me roll my eyes. I get it to a certain extent, but there were several times when I legitimately kind of felt like RY had been in fandom spaces or someone on her team was just feeding her popular theories to include.

The marked ones having second signets was. . . not my favorite choice, because logistically it doesn't make much sense. We should statistically see at least one of them go mad from the power instead of developing a second signet. And I actually think if that had been included it would have been more interesting! I'd like to see the reality of the risks that were taken to make the rebellion happen, but instead they just got really really lucky a bunch of times?

The use of the word Riorgail in print sent me to the fucking moon. No.

Violet's second signet. . . I don't want to talk about it.

Actually no I do. Since when are signets based on situational need and not who a person is at their core? Was that not what we were told previously? Am I tripping? I don't mind the power itself but I am confused.

Professor Riorson had me on the ground laughing. What the hell was that. There are enough barriers to their relationship, and that one felt too forced (but great fodder for smutty fic).

The characters and their relationships are the standout of the book and the series. I already said I loved Xaden and Violet here, but I also loved their friendships and how real especially the relationship with Brennan and Mira and Violet felt. The humor and the quips and the squad's constant support of each other was wonderful.

I'm holding onto those Sloane and Dain crumbs like a teddy bear you all have no idea. I love them.

Aaric being the one with precognition I didn't see coming, but I surprisingly liked it! I loved him stepping more into his role as prince and seeing how cunning and smart he really is.

Halden was unnecessary but I live for possessive and jealous Xaden.

Overall I think the pacing was crammed and the worldbuilding left me with more questions than answers, but did I still like it? Yes! I don't think it's my favorite in the series but it still was an enjoyable read. I'll want to read it again at some point I think, but not immediately!

[a-boros-named-seamus]

Oh this happened to me too!

My first grade teacher was utterly Convinced that i was, in her words, slow and refused to let me try advanced math and reading material, so my mom had the school district go ALL OUT on the testing for ADHD and a few other things (she brought in my aunt, a teacher, and instructed her to be in full Teacher Garb for it), and when the examiners presented their results, it was to my mom, my aunt, the principal, and my teacher. They ALL had basically the same thing to say: He is polite, talkative, extremely bored, and an extremely bright kid. Also, a very high degree of ADHD.

And then she tried to get me to finish my "number scroll" (write out numbers from 1-1000 on a scroll type thing) before she'd let me do the advanced math. My mom very nearly killed someone over that, because OF COURSE i wasn't doing it well. I was bored out of my skull.

Other recurring themes throughout school:

Teacher: "Well he's using this word, but we dont think he really knows what it means, and he really shouldn't be using words he doesn't know"

Mom: "Seamus, what does [word] mean?"

Me: [definition of word]

Mom:"Can you use it in a sentence?"

Me: [does so]

Teacher: "well alright then"

Also things like me finishing the assigned reading way way too fast, or mom making the school library let me take out chapter books in kindergarten, and my mom having to keep stopping me from correcting people's use of grammar and vocabulary because "no, they really really don't want you to correct them on it, especially not in public".

(One of my favorite classes was sophmore english because i'd basically blaze through the book the unit was on, then play on my tablet in class because i was consistently able to jump to the passage the rest of the class was on and just. Start talking about it, and doing so intelligently and coherently)

[deansbeer]

★ SUNSETS, SOMBREROS, & SURPRISES // birthday boy edition.

SYNOPSIS. you surprise dean with a getaway to mexico for his birthday, complete with heartfelt gifts, a sunset stroll, and life-changing news.

WARNING(S). birthday fluff | f!reader | implied sex | post-sex cuddles | alcohol consumption | heartfelt declarations of love I mild strong language I dean's fear of flying (related to S1 EP4 of supernatural).

-> if i missed a warning, please do let me know !

KARI'S NOTES. happy bday to baby boy <3 he deserves everything in the entire world, and i believe (in my head) he is very much alive + living his best life after giving up hunting because S15 never happened. anyway! i hope u enjoy this, which was just sitting there in my notes all day <333

DEAN WINCHESTER'S birthday had always been a quiet affair—if it was celebrated at all. most years, it was just a beer, maybe a piece of pie if he was lucky, and maybe sam would remember to say something. it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the effort when it happened; it just wasn't something he was used to. birthdays were just days, right? another year older, another year spent fighting the good fight.

but this year, you weren't having it.

you'd been planning this trip for weeks, keeping everything under wraps as best as you could. it wasn't easy; dean had a way of sniffing out surprises, especially when it came to you. but somehow, you managed to keep him in the dark.

so when you told him—casually, over breakfast—that you had booked a trip for the two of you, his fork froze halfway to his mouth.

"a trip?" he repeated, brows furrowing.

you smiled, taking a sip of your coffee. "yep. two weeks, just you and me. no cases, no monsters, no bunker. just… us."

he gave you a suspicious look. "where?"

"mexico," you said, watching his reaction carefully.

dean blinked. "mexico?"

"mexico," you confirmed, grinning.

he set his fork down, leaning back in his chair. "and how exactly are we getting there? because i know baby's not built for that kinda trip."

you tried not to laugh. "we're flying."

his face immediately twisted into a grimace. "oh, hell no."

"dean—"

"nope. not happening. i'm not getting on a plane."

you sighed, reaching across the table to take his hand. "you survived it once, didn't you? besides, this isn't a hunt. it's a vacation. you have me with you the whole time, and i promise, nothing's gonna happen."

he stared at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to come up with another excuse. but you gave him that look—the one that always made him cave—and he finally sighed, muttering, "fine. but if i die, i'm haunting your ass."

you laughed, squeezing his hand. "deal."

the flight itself was… tense. dean was on edge the entire time, gripping the armrests like the plane was about to fall out of the sky. you spent most of the flight holding his hand, rubbing soothing circles into his palm, and distracting him with small talk. by the time you landed, he seemed a little less tense, but he still muttered something about never doing this again as you grabbed your bags.

but once you stepped outside and felt the warm sun on your face, all of his complaints seemed to melt away. the two of you made your way to the hotel, checked in, and by the time you reached your room, dean was actually beaming.

the room was beautiful—large windows overlooking the ocean, a king-sized bed, and a balcony where you could hear the waves crashing in the distance. it was perfect.

"damn, sweetheart," dean said, dropping his bag and whistling low. "you really went all out, huh?"

"only the best for you, birthday boy," you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

he turned in your arms, pulling you close. "you didn't have to do all this."

"i wanted to," you said simply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

the rest of the evening you both spent it enjoying each other. after some steamy sex that left both of you tangled in the sheets, you laid together, the warm breeze from the open balcony door cooling your skin. dean had an arm draped over you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder as you rested your head on his chest.

"this is nice," he murmured, his voice low and content.

"yeah," you agreed, your fingers brushing over the ridges of his abs.

you had two surprises planned for him, but you decided to start with the one you knew he'd love.

the next evening, after a lazy morning spent in bed and a quick swim in the hotel pool, you and dean got ready to head out to a restaurant you'd researched weeks ago.

dean had noticed you staying up late in the bunker, your laptop open and your brow furrowed in concentration. he'd assumed it was for a hunt, maybe some research sam had roped you into. but now, he realized it had all been for this.

as you stepped into the restaurant, dean was immediately greeted by a group of staff who placed a large, brightly decorated sombrero on his head. you'd called ahead, asking if they could do something special for his birthday, and they'd certainly delivered.

he looked ridiculous, but the grin on his face was worth it.

"you planned this too?" he asked, glancing at you as he adjusted the sombrero.

"of course," you said, smiling. "it's your birthday, baby. i wanted it to be special."

the two of you spent the evening laughing, eating some of the best food dean had ever tasted, and him having a few drinks. you even ordered for him in spanish, your fluency leaving him both impressed and—if the look in his eyes was anything to go by—more than a little turned on.

"damn," he said after you helped him pronounce something on the menu. "never thought i'd find spanish sexy, but here we are."

you laughed, shaking your head. "glad i could surprise you."

later, as the two of you walked along the beach, the sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink, dean seemed more relaxed than you'd seen him in years. he was barefoot, his flip-flops dangling from his fingers, and his other hand was firmly clasped in yours.

you wore a long white summer dress, the fabric fluttering in the breeze, and dean couldn't stop stealing glances at you.

"you look beautiful, darlin'," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

you smiled, your cheeks warming. "you don't look so bad yourself, my love."

when you reached a pair of deck chairs, you both sat down, dean immediately pulling his closer to yours. his hands rested on your thighs, his touch warm and grounding as he stared out at the ocean.

you took the opportunity to pull out the first gift—a small envelope with his name written on the front in your neat cursive.

"what's this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed it to him.

"open it and find out," you said, grinning.

he carefully tore it open, pulling out the letter and saw tickets inside. his eyes widened as he read the letter, and by the time he got to the tickets, his jaw had dropped.

"no fucking way," he breathed, staring at the words 'Metallica VIP' printed on the tickets.

"yes way," you said, laughing.

"you're serious?" he asked, looking at you like he couldn't believe it.

"dead serious. we're going as soon as we get back."

he was quiet for a moment, his eyes misting over as he looked back at the tickets. then he set them down and pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over your face.

"you're amazing, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you laughed, brushing a tear from his cheek. "you deserve it, dean. you deserve everything."

he shook his head, his smile soft. "i don't know what i did to deserve you."

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "you're you. that's enough."

after a moment, you pulled back, reaching behind you for the second gift.

"there's one more thing," you said, your voice growing a little shaky.

dean frowned slightly, his brows furrowing. "what more could you possibly—"

you held out the pregnancy test, your hands trembling slightly.

"i'm pregnant, baby," you said softly, your eyes searching his face.

for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words. then a slow smile spread across his face, and he let out a choked laugh.

"you're serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, tears streaming down your face. "yeah. i'm serious."

he let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around. you squealed, clinging to him as he laughed, his joy infectious.

when he finally set you down, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips.

"thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "thank you for… everything."

you smiled, resting your forehead against his. "happy birthday, my love."

that night, you celebrated with champagne — he drank one for you and himself — laughter, and the quiet promise of a future filled with love.

SPECIAL TAGS. @figthoughts @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @rafespreciosa @voidsuites . . . ☆

[pali-and-proud]

Finale Thoughts

This is a very special thank you to all the Fast Passers. Y'all did amazing, truly, because I actively read anything and everything without any attempt to shield my eyes from spoilers and I still knew nothing. This post is dedicated to you guys.

Alright guys. You know the drill. Get the hot coco and strap in.

Lets start with Deacon:

Deacon acknowledging that Chase is more likely to interact well with Buddy is actually so good to see. It's so nice to see Deacon prioritize Prunella's safety and to be more comfortable with being put in "lesser" positions, like babysitting! (Think back to sick! Chase, and look at how far Deacon's grown)

Deacon and Prunella's talk: Prunella calling out Deacon for always talking about being great instead of just being great. That's so good, genuinely--Prunella shrugging and being self-confident and Deacon finally really hearing it. He needs to just be what he wants.

Deacon's relationship with horses symbolizing his frustrations with his inability to control his life was NOT something I expected and I openly applauded. That's brilliant.

Don't be mistaken: Deacon sacrificed himself. He knew the risks of making the horse play bridge. He watched the horse fall victim to the spread of the pages. The horse was still neighing when it's legs started to turn--Deacon could have yelled, but he didn't, because he was too focused trying to make sure that Chase and Prunella, at least, could escape.

The speech Buddy gave him, which I will reference so many times, about there being a time to be the hero and a time to be the helper, is SO applicable. Deacon "is happy to help." He isn't trying to be the hero, and he isn't trying for glory, and he just wants his cousin and his friend-ish to be safe. And it's specifically when he's not trying to be the hero that he ends up being the hero, by taking control of the reigns and getting Prunella to Chase and risking his life. He follows Bronze and Prunella's advice, and listens to the speech, and listens to himself: He stops asking for permission. He steps up. He becomes the hero.

Cannot wait to see Deacon's reaction when Chase undoubtedly tells him how they escaped. I can't decide if Chase is immediately going to say "Buddy and I kissed" or if he's going to say "I figured out an escape and stop asking questions" but no matter what, Deacon's going to be squinting at his cousin and groaning.

ALSO can't wait to see how this arc impacts his relationship with his parents. Like I'm so excited. A Deacon that's more confident being able to step forward and say "No, I don't want to devote my life to something I'll actively hate. That's ridiculous." might be the end of me ngl, I love him.

Prunella!

Prunella my love

Prunella my LOVE

She has this confidence that we only see falter twice: when she struggles with the other kids, and right now. And in both situations, she didn't know what to do, and she was in over her head, and she reminded us that she's just a KID

Her arc has been the exact opposite of Deacon's, and it's so cool to watch them both experience opposite lessons in the same arc. Deacon learning how to step forward and lead while Prunella learns how to step back and follow.

Prunella hearing, constantly, about how dangerous the books are and finally SEEING the books as dangerous. Prunella finally understanding why Deacon was so strict about the books she could travel in, because most of their worst-case scenarios came true in a single swoop.

Prunella also has not met Buddy yet. She saw him, described him as the mean guy, and then perished. Truly an icon.

I am so convinced that Prunella and Buddy would be friends. Even if it starts rocky, I think they both enjoy humbling the Hollow boys too much to not grow to like the other's presence. I can't believe I have to wait for season 2 to get confirmation of this but I am going to be so smug when I am correct

Chase:

CHASE

CHASE EVERETT HOLLOW i have never in my life ever loved a character like I love Chase. I talk so much about Buddy but that is me being a wing-woman, Chase my love Chase, I love him so much

Fun fact I didn't even like Buddy until the first Cinderella story. I was so convinced I wouldn't like him, but I resigned myself to cheering for Stargoth anyway (I was part of the Canvas/Discover Squad, i had a LOT of hiss hiss Buddy) solely because if Buddy made Chase happy then sure I'll accept it, and now i adore Buddy, Punko is just that good

Every single moment of Chase in this arc stole my attention. every single panel. God I could do a dive longer and deeper than my Buddy analysis but exclusively on Chase during the finale arc. i could do it exclusively on Chase during the finale. I could do it on any singular panel.

Chase being guilty about lying to Buddy alone was heart-wrenching, but Chase literally only got more and more heartbreaking. Him constantly trying to help everyone--the keys, for example, with a resort for them to enjoy--only for things to go wrong--the resort, for example, drowning the book. He just wants to HELP

Buddy was 100% correct in calling out Chase for pinning the blame on Deacon, but what he didn't realize is Chase wasn't trying to do that. Chase truly felt terrible, and he truly wanted to apologize, and him bringing up Deacon was him being honest and factual because he did argue with Deacon about it, but he did end up listening to Deacon. And Buddy gets more frustrated because Chase is misunderstanding the problem--it isn't Chase hiding Prunella, it's Chase refusing to trust Buddy

And when you think about it. Chase absolutely has no reason to. Chase doesn't even know his name WHICH I WILL TALK ABOUT LATER bc kdjfherigh but! In Chase's eyes, yeah why would he. He's literally desperate to have Buddy prove that hes legit and good and kind and Buddy keeps shoving that away (Buddy saving Deacon's life and then pointedly not mentioning that, for example).

It's also the fact that Chase is trying so hard to stay optimistic despite such extreme levels of guilt. It's the fact that he stays clutching to that persona of optimism even after seeing paper! Deacon and Prunella, and it's only when he's staring at a bleeding Buddy that the full situation sinks in

Chase finally breaking. Oh my God you dont know how long I was waiting to see Chase splinter apart. This is a kid trying to do the impossible, and every single time something goes wrong, he feels like it's his fault. The book got destroyed? Buddy got betrayed? Admitting that he doesn't trust Buddy? Getting way less narratonin than Deacon or Prunella? He blames himself for all of it, first and foremost, and it's finally on full display

Chase even trying to send Buddy away? Pushing and pushing because he is so desperate to save someone, anyone, even though that's literally a death sentence for him. And he doesn't hesitate, either--it's practically instinct, even though Chase would never agree to leave if the roles had been reversed.

And like...augh Buddy hugging Chase, and Chase hugging him back? That was painful enough, but you add in Chase admitting that he doesn't want Buddy to leave?

This is not the post for me to point at Chase and accuse him of abandonment issues, but know that I am pointing at Chase and I am accusing him of abandonment issues. I am looking at him feeling hurt that Deacon left him in the Toffee arc, I am looking at him constantly repeating that he's not going anywhere, I am looking at him running to apologize to Buddy after spending so much time bitter about Buddy avoiding him, I am looking at his avoidance of talking about his mom in situations where "My mom is dying and this is important to me" would be really helpful, and I am thinking accusations

But anyway

Chase and his abandonment issues: literally all he wants is for someone to stay, safely and securely. His mom, Deacon, Silver, Buddy, even his dance partner. He's always at risk of losing someone, and he's about to lose everything, and all he can do is admit that he just wants Buddy to stay, because he's scared

Chase you are my sun you are my stars you are my whole solar system I will give you the world

Also, I absolutely knew the repeated comments about Chase being an idiot would get to him. Chase is SMART, guys. He's perceptive. He knows when he messes up, and he tries to look past the mistake and into how to rectify it, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware that he did something wrong. And people (Buddy) kept snapping that he was stupid, or an idiot, or ridiculous, bc Chase would make a mistake (or stick by a decision), and he would NOTICE that people thought it was ridiculous. He just didn't care, because he was either sticking with it, or trying to fix it.

And he DOES. He notices the words in the sky, realizes the solution, figures out the entire thread behind the stories (they want to be enjoyable and they want to have a good ending), and explains it all to Buddy. Chase figured it out, because he's so much smarter than everyone assumes.

Anyway Buddy hugging Chase and telling him he can stay a while longer (this is a scene burned into my heart) (more on that later) and telling him he's not stupid and that he's trying his best is SO important. This might be the first time in the entire story that someone finally sees Chase. Someone finally prioritizing Chase and putting Chase's wellbeing first and telling Chase yeah sure maybe you messed up but you're doing the impossible every single day and you're TRYING.

And for it to be Buddy? Like ignore the romance entirely--if someone who always insults you and is notoriously difficult to please tells you "No, you're not stupid. You're trying your best" while hugging you? thats the most sincere thing in the world. that's tears immediately.

Chase suggesting kissing is also askdjns because (again, ignore the romance part of it)--he always skips the kissing scenes. We know thats because he wanted to save his first kiss, and he's the one who offered. Yeah, okay, sure, it was life or death, but Chase didn't hesitate, and didn't weigh his options, and didn't even consider saying "a kiss on the forehead would probably suffice." guy went straight for "i need the mouth to mouth"

the grin. The bright eyes. the pressing fingers to his lips. He's so happy, so genuinely happy.

I truly, truly, TRULY cannot wait to see what this means for our idiots. I can't wait for someone to try to have a conversation and for someone else to not want a conversation, or for them to be so awkward with each other, or for Deacon to want to skin them both, or for WHATEVER turn this takes. And im SO happy for Chase.

Buddy:

I wrote this whole thing and it just deleted. i am furious

NOX

NOX I LOVE THAT NAME NOX NOX NOX

Punko i cant believe you were worried we wouldnt like it. nox nox nox nox nox i love that

okay first: the two theories for key Nox, as they are rn, are 1) that Nox has always been the villain key, or 2) that Nox was tricked/manipulated/experimented into becoming the villain key.

1) If he'd always been the villain key, it makes sense why he never told Chase his name. Chase would have immediately told Silver and company, who would have had to stare at Chase and ask them if he had a crush on their brother

1) if he'd always been the villain key, his distrust of Chase could be explained by him distrusting all humans. This would follow course with him also being frustrated by Deacon, which yes was partly because of jealousy but also partly because Deacon was a new key holder.

1) ALSO of course he was a nightmare about Chase with the key--he had no reason to believe Chase would treat the keys well. it's also possible that he knew Silver had a crack, and thats why he helped Chase in the first cinderella book--so that Chase could meet Silver.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he never asked Chase details about his key. Why he never asked about Silver or Bronze, or if they were okay, or how they were settling, despite routinely trying to get details about other factors of Chase's life. He assumes Chase is selfish, true, but he doesn't ever accuse Chase of being cruel with them.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" holds a lot of power. Yes, it's possible that the keys were once people and Nox wants to go back to that, but its been CENTURIES.

2) if he was always the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" would be applicable to all the keys, bc it would assume they were all human once (obligatory Keys are People Too mention, it's an amazing ao3 fic by incomple shoo go read it). Silver, Bronze, AND Goldie never mentioned that, and Punko likely would have foreshadowed it earlier.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he wasn't included in the dream Silver had! Where she dreamt about her family!

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his constant reference of Silver as "the key" or as "it" also makes sense. Earlier, like episode three or so, he mentions needing to get Silver back before the old man returns. It's Silver specifically, without mentioning trying to track down anyone else.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his name being objectively different from the other keys makes sense. Silver, Bronze, and Goldie were all named after the metal they were made from! Violet is purple! Yes, Nox means night, and yes, Nox has a moon on his back, but if Goldie isn't called Sunny, then I would argue Nox's name should count as way more subtle than everyone else's.

anyway theres a lot of points on either aspect

I could do into the character growth of Buddy, but I'm actually going to focus on the hug. Not the kiss, even though it's nice to see the fixation on Chase's hair stays strong, but Buddy immediately recognizing a hug is needed and immediately giving him one.

Buddy love language is touch, or something

Chase says "I think we need to kiss" and there's not a single arguement from Nox's lips. He literally stares at the sky, turns slowly, and goes "Not a problem"

actually the whole "I've never been the hero. Not even in my own story" goes so strong when you remember the speech he gave Deacon about needing to act as the hero, the helper, and whatever other role when need be. Nox was given the chance to be the hero, and he took it. "I'd like to be your hero" isn't just a romantic one-liner to preface a kiss--it's Nox genuinely saying that he wants the happy ending that Chase always skips. And Chase, this time, doesn't skip it.

Nox, returning back to his space with Violet, immediately says he doesn't think he can keep doing this. But he wants to be a human, more than ever, which implies that "keep doing this" isn't just travelling into the stories, but doing something additional. Something that, we can infer, is hurting Chase.

i am wrapping this up its snowing outside and i cant feel my fingers, how do you snow people do this

if you read all of this! grab a treat <3 hope you enjoyed and love you all

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Dumbledore is a little full of himself

Like, I read Tales of Beedle the Bard, and I was struck by how Dumbledore comments on his own cleverness and knowledge in his notes incredibly often:

This prejudice eventually died out in the face of overwhelming evidence that some of the world’s most brilliant wizards(3) were, to use the common phrase, “Muggle-lovers”. [...] 3 Such as myself.

(Albus Dumbledore on “The Wizard and the Hopping Pot”)

I think I may say, without vanity, that both my Fountain and my Hill performed the parts allotted to them with simple goodwill. Alas, that the same could not be said of the rest of the cast.

(Albus Dumbledore on “The Fountain of Fair Fortune”)

Even I, Albus Dumbledore, would find it easiest to refuse the Invisibility Cloak; which only goes to show that, clever as I am, I remain just as big a fool as anyone else.

(Albus Dumbledore on “The Tale of the Three Brothers”)

The guy can hardly talk about anything without talking about how smart and wise and brilliant he is. Like, no humility whatsoever.

In the books, everyone keeps singing his praises like Dumbledore can do no wrong and the only one who keeps saying Dumbledore can be wrong is Harry. And even then, in Harry's limbo vision of King's Cross, which I don't think is really Dumbledore, it's telling Harry envisions him saying something like this:

“And you knew this? You knew — all along?” “I guessed. But my guesses have usually been good,” said Dumbledore happily

(DH, Ch35)

Dumbledore doesn't speak to Harry all that often throughout the series, with book 6 being the one he interacts with him the most. And we see that even in conversations with people, Dumbledore loves to hear how wise and great he is. When he says "I might be mistaken" it's with the tone of "I'm right and everyone else is wrong". Which is usually the case often enough, yes (though not always), but he does it a lot, and I found it interesting how often he uses this phrasing and how smug he seems about it:

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers — “Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!” (GOF)

“I may be wrong,” said Dumbledore pleasantly, “but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn’t that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?” he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle. (OotP)

“Payment?” said Harry. “You’ve got to give the door something?” “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “Blood, if I am not much mistaken.” (HBP)

Dumbledore uses this phrasing when he knows what he is saying is correct. He is saying it not because he thinks he might actually be wrong. When he actually thinks he is wrong, he makes excuses and tries to reason why the decision he made was actually reasonable at the time:

“Harry, I owe you an explanation,” said Dumbledore. “An explanation of an old man’s mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young ... and I seem to have forgotten lately...”

(OotP)

He is incapable of saying: "I was wrong, it happens, let's move on," it has to come with reasoning or an excuse. He blames it on his age, not that he made a wrong judgment call. This isn't humbleness.

Dumbledore is a character who wants to be humble but just isn't. he considers modesty a virtue. Hell, humility is practically his favorite trait Harry possess:

Harry, who could not see any way out of this without flatly lying, nodded but still said nothing. Slughorn beamed at him. “So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond — you were there, then?

(HBP) - Slughorn mentions how Dumbledore appreciates modesty.

The third brother in the story (“the humblest and also the wisest”) is the only one who understands that, having narrowly escaped Death once, the best he can hope for is to postpone their next meeting for as long as possible.

(Albus Dumbledore on “The Tale of the Three Brothers”)

He appreciates being humble and modest and sees it as being wise. He derides Tom for thinking of himself as "special" or "clever" even when it's true (and when he does the same). He loves Harry's modesty, which is really low self-esteem, not modesty. Harry's low self-worth is like the ultimate humbleness in Dumbledore's eyes because he doesn't see it for what it is and he was never humble in his life, so he doesn't really know where the balance between confidence and arrogance is or the line between modesty and low self-worth. I think he honestly doesn't know because he is exceptionally arrogant.

Dumbledore created this image of ineffability around him and it's clear Harry is one of the only people (besides Dumbledore and Aberforth) who knows Dumbledore can make a mistake and he keeps reminding Hermione, Lupin, and literally everyone else of that fact:

“People have said it, many times. It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore’s judgment. I do; therefore, I trust Severus.” “But Dumbledore can make mistakes,” argued Harry. “He says it himself. And you” — he looked Lupin straight in the eye — “do you honestly like Snape?”

(HBP)

This is all another case of Dumbledore being incapable of practicing what he preaches. He values modesty, but he doesn't seem to be capable of it.

Now, I'm not saying he isn't clever or special, he is. But he is the type of really smart person who looks down on anyone they don't see as intelligent as them. He doesn't see most people as equal to him.

Dumbledore doesn't see most of the Order or Aberforth as his equals. He never did. Elphias Doge kisses his ass, but Dumbledore clearly doesn't share the same level of respect for him. Or for most people, really.

“Elphias Doge mentioned her to us,” said Harry, trying to spare Hermione. “That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. [...] “Grindelwald. And at last, my brother had an equal to talk to someone just as bright and talented as he was. And looking after Ariana took a backseat then, while they were hatching all their plans for a new Wizarding order and looking for Hallows, and whatever else it was they were so interested in.

(DH)

Dumbledore doesn't trust the majority of the Order with anything because he doesn't think they'd be capable of handling it because they're not him. He literally tells them nothing until he has to, keeping them busy guarding a prophecy he knows can't be stolen by a run-of-the-mill Death Eater. He only tells Harry about the Horcruxes because he has no choice but to tell him. Same with Snape — Dumbledore trusts him out of necessity.

Snape and Grindelwald are the only people we see Dumbledore show respect towards their abilities, wisdom, and magic in some capacity.

Like, he calls Sirius clever, but he talks about him as foolish in the same breath. He calls McGonagall wise, but he clearly doesn't think she's wise enough to be told anything or trusted with anything. And while he does speak highly of Harry's courage and humility and though Harry is insanely powerful and with the right training could beat Dumbledore, Dumbledore keeps putting him down when it comes to magical abilities/intelligence compared to himself:

“I’m not upset.” “Harry, you were never a good Occlumens — ”

(HBP) - even though Harry can and does get really good at it once he does it his way.

“I do not think you will count, Harry: You are underage and unqualified. Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen-year-old to reach this place: I think it unlikely that your powers will register compared to mine.”

(HBP)

I find this tendency of Dumbledore to be really interesting. He underestimates people constantly and thinks too highly of himself. and he is very honest about it to people's faces. He keeps talking about how Voldemort’s defenses on his Horcruxes are shit, and how Voldemort is foolish when the curse Voldemort left on the ring is literally killing him at that very moment:

“I do not think you will count, Harry: You are underage and unqualified. Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen-year-old to reach this place: I think it unlikely that your powers will register compared to mine.” These words did nothing to raise Harry’s morale; perhaps Dumbledore knew it, for he added, “Voldemort’s mistake, Harry, Voldemort’s mistake ... Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth. ... Now, you first this time, and be careful not to touch the water.”

(HBP)

Dumbledore thinking himself so clever, more clever than Voldemort, is what killed him. His arrogant insistence that he's the smartest man in the room killed him. He is undermining Voldemort for mistakes similar to the ones he makes regularly when interacting with Harry. And he's aware of that. He knows he's a hypocrite:

When I discovered it, after all those years, buried in the abandoned home of the Gaunts—the Hallow I had craved most of all, though in my youth I had wanted it for very different reasons—I lost my head, Harry. I quite forgot that it was now a Horcrux, that the ring was sure to carry a curse. I picked it up, and I put it on, and for a second I imagined that I was about to see Ariana, and my mother, and my father, and to tell them how very, very sorry I was . . . “I was such a fool, Harry. After all those years I had learned nothing. I was unworthy to unite the Deadly Hallows. I had proved it time and again, and here was the final proof.”

(DH) - Dumbledore's portrait

I think Dumbledore's self-awareness is why he wants to like Harry as much as he does. While I don't think Dumbledore knows Harry as well as he thinks he does, what Dumbledore does see is enough for him to imagine Harry in his head as this perfect, virtuous martyr that he wished all his life to portray himself as. He idealizes who he imagines Harry is without fully respecting Harry as his own person with his own abilities.

I just find it interesting that for a character who speaks so highly of humility, he doesn't seem to possess it, and that it ends up being the death of him.

[ariaste]

Props to OP for answering so gracefully, but I'm not going to answer gracefully. It is more important than ever to call out fascism whenever you see it -- especially the quiet, soft, poisonously insidious kind that Anon is practicing here.

Anon ostensibly wants to know: "Do authors realize that they're writing about things that some people might find disturbing, horrific, upsetting, repulsive, or simply just TMI?" (Yes, obviously they know. Authors are not stupid; that's usually a requirement of the job (not always. But usually).)

But what Anon is actually asking is, "Why don't authors stop themselves from doing a Bad Thing? Why doesn't anyone else stop them?" The assumption underlying that question is: "Surely if they realized that they were doing something disgusting, they would stop immediately." Even more covertly implied: "I think writing about certain things automatically taints you with moral degeneracy--that is, it marks you as a possible or potential criminal."

To that I say: My friend, writing is just thoughts copied onto paper, and thinking is not a crime. Only actual actions can be crimes. What does it matter what other people think about? Literally so what? Why do you want people to be stopped from thinking about those things ("did their editors ever gently ask them...")? Why do you care? Do you feel that an author should provide a list of justifications and excuses before it's permissible for them to write about something? Why? And who do you think should be in charge of that? The government???? YOU???????

To any person reading this post: If the above questions are personally upsetting to you, if you find yourself huffily thinking something like, "Well, I care because it could normalize--", NOPE, STOP RIGHT THERE. 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 This is a big red flag: You (much like the Anon) are exhibiting some early warning signs of Fascism, and that is not something to take lightly in the current political climate. There are some drugs you shouldn't experiment with even once, and fascism is one of them. Repeat as often as needed: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS THOUGHTCRIME. WE DO NOT LIVE IN GEORGE ORWELL'S 1984.

But we already talk about thoughtcrimes now and then, don't we? I can't remember seeing someone talking about crimestop (also from Orwell's 1984):

In the Newspeak vocabulary, the word crimestop denotes the citizen's instinctive desire to rid himself of unwanted, incorrect thoughts (personal and political), the discovery of which, by the Thinkpol [Thought Police], would lead to detection and arrest, transport to and interrogation at Miniluv (Ministry of Love). The protagonist, Winston Smith, describes crimestop as a conscious process of self-imposed cognitive dissonance: The mind should develop a blind spot whenever a dangerous thought presented itself. The process should be automatic, instinctive. Crimestop, they called it in Newspeak. . . . He set to work to exercise himself in crimestop. He presented himself with propositions—'the Party says the Earth is flat', 'the Party says that ice is heavier than water'—and trained himself in not seeing or not understanding the arguments that contradicted them. Moreover, from the perspective of Oceania's principal enemy of the state, in the history book The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism, Emmanuel Goldstein said that: Crimestop means the faculty of stopping short, as though by instinct, at the threshold of any dangerous thought. It includes the power of not grasping analogies, of failing to perceive logical errors, of misunderstanding the simplest arguments if they are inimical to Ingsoc, and of being bored or repelled by any train of thought which is capable of leading in a heretical direction. Crimestop, in short, means protective stupidity.

Read that twice, and then reread the Anon's question. Translate it through that lens: "Why," says the Anon, delicately disgusted, "are these authors not practicing better crimestop? I practice it all the time. Why aren't they?"

Great question, Anon. Why AREN'T they? Turn off your crimestop and give it some real thought.

(Hint: If the answer you come up with is "Because they are moral degenerates" or anything in that neighborhood, you are unfortunately still doing fascism. Try again. If you have tried several times and the only answer you can manage to come up with is a still a synonym of "moral degeneracy" then this is above my paygrade and I would recommend talking to a trusted grownup, a therapist, a spiritual leader, or possibly your least-online friend.)

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

[vidavalor]

The Trial

Short thoughts on how Gabriel & Beez could fit back into the story in The Finale & on how Aziraphale's fall would lead to the collapse of the current Heaven/Hell system, in response, as promised, to questions posed by @zenkitty714.

Whoever the guy with the coffee in The Final 15 is, he didn't exactly say that there was a Supreme Archangel job vacancy because Heaven was down for giving Gabriel a watch and telling him to bugger off and go tend to his marigolds. At no point does Our Villain ever actually express one shred of intent to leave Gabriel alone. He simply says that he feels there's a job opening... which all feels a bit sinister since it suggests that there is one because our villains still plan on trying to kill Gabriel.

The Metatron's response to Gabriel mutinying on Monday morning was to try to murder him and we saw exactly nothing in the course of S2 that would indicate that his plans have changed where that is concerned. In order to get Aziraphale into the lift, Our Villain had to lead him to believe that there was a chance-- a remote chance but a chance-- that The Metatron was willing to change and let Heaven reform. Letting it seem like Gabriel and Beez were safe was part of that deception.

Gabriel and Beez were only safe for the brief moment until Aziraphale got into the elevator because our villains needed to pretend like they didn't care about revenge against them in order to sell the idea that Heaven could reform to an understandably doubtful but desperate Aziraphale. Now that they have Aziraphale, though, and have accomplished their goal of going after him first to divide and conquer our main characters, our villains have no need to keep up this charade.

That's why it's a damn good thing that Uriel is on our main characters' side now because she'll be there when Aziraphale falls. She won't be able to stop it without following him to Hell, which wouldn't help either of them or anybody else. What she can do, though, is then be the one to go get Gabriel and Beez and tell them what's happened to Aziraphale. Uriel on the run from Heaven as a result of this and the need to find Crowley will then give them all reason to go to the bookshop, where Muriel will serve her purpose of having witnessed basically all of The Final 15. They'll be able to tell Ineffable Bureaucracy what they missed, with Uriel confirming the bit of what she herself saw before the angels left after following whom they're now realizing was Satan's command to leave.

Wherever Crowley is at the start of The Finale's story in the present, I bet hard that it's going to be Gabriel who goes to get him. It's going to be Gabriel who tells Crowley that the reason why he can't feel Aziraphale anymore isn't because Aziraphale was Book of Life'd-- that's not a real thing. (Notice how the one character who could have answered that question in S2-- Gabriel-- is prevented from even knowing it's a question for the entirety of the season.) It's going to be Gabriel who tells Crowley that he can't feel Aziraphale because Aziraphale fell and Gabriel who talks Crowley off a metaphorical and possibly literal ledge when, at some point, Muriel confirms that Crowley sat there in a chair and told Aziraphale to go alone with a being they all will by then realize was Satan.

What our working-together-on-this-one villains of The Metatron and Satan haven't counted on is that the revolution they're trying to nip in the bud has actually already started. They have overlooked Uriel entirely and didn't anticipate that her response would be to side with Gabriel and help him and Beez over Heaven. They didn't count on Gabriel and Beez helping take care of Crowley. They didn't count on Muriel agreeing to help by giving the bookshop to the revolutionaries. They didn't count that it wouldn't take much for the rebelling angels and demons to get Furfur and his miracle blocking skills involved or Dagon and her Dark Council power on their side.

What our villains really haven't counted on is that Aziraphale is the bridge too far. The angel whose life taught all these other angels and demons how to live is going to be the one to break the system oppressing all of them by having inspired in his own struggles everyone to come together and fight Heaven and Hell for him.

What kind of fight, you say?

One of the Powell & Pressburger films referenced a bunch in S2 and playing on the tv in The Resurrectionist Pub behind Gabriel during the Ineffable Bureaucracy flashback is A Matter of Life and Death and I think a plot like this film is basically where The Finale is headed. You can see it on the tv here as Gabriel does the "Everyday" miracle:

The basic plot of that film centers around a trial where a man who has been outrunning a clerical mistake that caused him to live when he should have died fights to stay alive on Earth to be with the woman he fell in love with. He was a RAF pilot during WW2 whose plane went down. He was supposed to die but a mistake had him live and he fell in love with the air traffic control operator he was talking to on his way down-- the character of June, whose look in the film is the inspiration for Crowley's look in the Before the Beginning scene.

Our hero in the film gets some help from someone who knows how to wrangle Heaven, launch a trial, and who acts as a defense lawyer-- something that I think sounds a lot like a perfect role for Gabriel.

There's also that we now have that we know that Gabriel knows for sure about the body swap in S1 which means he knows that, technically, Aziraphale did get a trial because that's really who Hell put on trial. We had the scene of a drunk Crowley telling Jim this in S2 to show us that Gabriel knows beyond a shadow of doubt that Aziraphale kind of already had a trial so that we can appreciate it when he then lies his ass off to The Metatron for his friends and claims they never gave Aziraphale a trial. 😉

Trials are a big thing in Good Omens' Heaven & Hell and in its finales in both seasons so far... even if they've been sham trials so far... but there's one of our main characters who hasn't gotten one yet, right?

Gabriel's trial was shown in the S2 finale and, back in S1, Hell gave whom they thought was Crowley a trial. However, Heaven never actually gave who they thought was Aziraphale a trial in S1 and they won't before sending him to Hell at the start of The Finale, either.

Gabriel and Beez know how to work the system and I think that they are going to lead an effort to challenge Aziraphale's status as a demon by filing a challenge to it that forces Heaven to give Aziraphale a trial. (Aziraphale is going to insist as this goes on that he goes nowhere without Crowley and it might result in them both being on trial.)

What will really be on trial, though, is the system of Heaven/Hell itself because, if our characters can win the trial, it will mean that they have proven that Heaven isn't infallible in their assessment. That would collapse Heaven and Hell because all the demons would challenge their own statuses and all the angels would realize that Heaven can make mistakes and this is all bullshit, which is likely what happens when all is said and done.

One part of the film is that one of the lawyers also demands a trial by jury with a diverse jury pool to ensure a fair trial, which would be very different from what we've seen happen with the characters in Good Omens so far. It would have to happen in The Finale for this plot to exist.

I think one of the results of the trial is that this group of angels and demons challenging Heaven here wind up demanding that The Metatron produce God and exposing him as a fraud when it's revealed that he can't, actually, because he doesn't speak for God and all of Heaven and Hell is a sham.

Satan figured it out long ago but cut a deal with The Metatron to stay quiet in exchange for having his own kingdom down there in Hell. The two of them are in a bit of a mutually-assured destruction pact where they co-exist to use the threats of one another to control the angels and demons they're oppressing.

When the trial leads to the overthrowing of The Metatron, the demise of Satan might be an actual battle of sorts but the end result is that both of them will be gone by the end and the angels and demons will be set up to form an united, more democratic form of government. The threat of Armageddon will be over, allowing for Crowley and Aziraphale to South Downs Cottage it in peace.

That's how Aziraphale's fall can be the thing that brings down the whole house of cards... as S2 seemed to possibly be suggesting:

[nubiawrites]

chapter five

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. oral (giving and receiving). alcohol. talks of safe sex.

Summary: Aaron and Iriye have a nightcap, tensions being released as new connections are formed.

Notes: Everyone say thank you to GQ and Aaron's sleeve. I told you all the next chapter would be worth it. Enjoy and let me know what you think

MASTERLIST

Aaron's fingers drummed steadily against the wheel as he drove Iriye and himself back to his place. The Bluetooth in his card played some Sade as Aaron drove them in comfortable silence. 

This was not Iriye's first one-night stand, but it was with someone like Aaron—a collaborator, an artist, an actor. As they inched closer to his place, her anxiety got the best of her.

"I've never done this before," Iriye blurted out. Aaron had parked the car in the parking garage of his apartment, and he paused.

"Like had sex?" Aaron raised both eyebrows, and Iriye swatted his arm. 

"I've had sex. Trust me," Iriye sighed. "I don't sleep with talent. I never have,"

"Okay," He nodded.

"Because I respect you. And I love my job. And I love this project. And I don't make this a habit," Iriye rambled.

Aaron just smirked as she kept talking, seeing the defenses fall. She was always so sharp and on it, and he liked that, but this made her more endearing.

"What are you thinking?" Iriye asked. "Because if it is and I'm crazy, I will happily Uber home, and we can just—" He cut her off by leaning in for a kiss. The movement took her aback, but she ultimately relaxed into the gentle and sweet kiss. 

Iriye pulled back once fully relaxed and hummed, her eyes opening to look at Aaron's face. 

"Well, if you're wondering what I'm thinking, I don't care if you've never done this or have done this a million times," Aaron stated. "As Nelly and many other women I know would say, you're a grown-ass woman,"

"Please say that again. I need to hear it with your accent and all," Iriye teased. Aaron rolled his eyes before leaning in. 

"Grown-ass woman," Aaron repeated, and Iriye giggled. "Let's just see what happens. No pressure,"

Iriye nodded, and Aaron got out of the car. Iriye would do the same when he rushed to her side to open the door, holding his hand out for her. She took it and got out of the car.

"Thank you," Iriye said. Locking up his car, his hand never left hers as he guided her inside the apartment building.

They entered his apartment, and Aaron let her step inside first. She smiled at the place once he switched on the light, which matched Aaron's energy. 

"Your place is nice. Very homey," She moved to sit on the couch.

“Thank you,” He said before stepping into the kitchen. “You want anything?”

“I’ll have whatever you are having,” Iriye said, looking around at the record collections under the TV. She saw a few books stacked neatly on his coffee table, her eyes peeping at a familiar title. She smiled to herself when Aaron came back with two glasses.

“My whiskey sours may not be as great as yours,” he said, placing the glass in her hand. She chuckled. 

“I’ll be the judge,” Iriye sipped the drink and hummed. “Just a little bit more lemon,” She moved to pull the book on the top of his stack. “How are you liking the Last Days of Ptolemy Grey,” 

“Interestingly enough, I like it. I figured I would read it first before watching. Someone has great taste in literature,” Aaron tilted his head towards her.

“I mean, I do know some things about writing,” Iriye shrugged playfully. Turning to him, she moved to make herself more comfortable but realized her boots were still on. She was about to reach down and take them off, not wanting to seem like she didn’t have any home training.

"I got you,"  Aaron said, his British accent with that deep timber of a voice. Her stomach clenched deliciously, trying to be demure. He moved to lift her legs into his lap. “May I?” Iriye was too distracted by how smooth he was, nodding her head along.

Aaron kept his eyes on her before unzipping the first boot, his thumb smoothing over the revealed skin along the way. Iriye let out a soft breath, feeling him pull the boot off. He did the other, and she kept her legs over his lap.

“Was that an excuse to keep me close?” Iriye raised a brow at him, Aaron rubbing her legs.

“Would that be so bad? To want you close, love,” Aaron questioned.

“No,” Iriye felt his hand moved to her cheek. 

“Come here,” Aaron stated, pulling her closer by her chin. She leaned in and kissed him softly for a moment. Getting reacquainted with the soft, full lips on hers, the feel of his trimmed mustache near her face. When she pulled back, he leaned his head against hers. “I’m taking this however you want to,”

“That might be the hottest thing I ever heard,” Iriye admitted, pulling him close again and kissing him. His hand moved to stroke her legs as they were on his lap. She hummed, his fingertips sending shivers up her spine. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, her hands moving to his neck and cheek. His tongue looked for permission to lick into her mouth, and she gave it to him gladly.

They continued kissing that way, tongues clashing as they moved in sync. Aaron pulled away, moving his hands to pull her closer. But Iriye stopped him, lying back on the couch.

“You look so good like this,” Aaron stated.

“I’m still in my clothes,” Iriye stated.

“Imagine what you would look like splayed here without them,” His words made her press her legs together. 

“Then get me out of them,” With those words, Aaron advanced on her, legs falling apart to fit his hips against hers. Her jean dress pushed up some, and she let her hands fall to his neck as she connected their lips again.

Aaron placed one hand by her head, not wanting to settle too much weight on her as they made out. She felt his hand trail to her thigh, and she pressed herself closer to his chest as she arched her back. 

“Aaron,” Iriye moaned against his lips, her clothes feeling too suffocating. He pulled back, and his hand went to the zipper on the front of her dress, pulling it down till the dark brown bra she wore came into view. Iriye sat up to shimmy out of her sleeves, sitting confidently as she felt Aaron’s eyes take her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron’s eyes trailed over her breast. 

“I know,” Iriye giggled. She had soft curves from pilates, and her body had changed over the years, but under his eyes, she felt even sexier. “Your turn,” She pulled at his black shirt. Aaron smirked before lifting his shirt. Iriye was trying to stop herself from watching her eyes pop out at his muscular body. His broad chest, the tiny speckle of hair leading into the dark corduroy pants he wore. It didn’t help his left arm was covered in tattoos, and Iriye needed to know how it would look around her neck in the worst way.

Aaron moved to lean down and kiss her as he pulled her closer. Her hand went between them, and she found the button to his pants. He pulled back to give her some space, her fingers quick to get the button off and his zipper down, her hand brushing against his length through his boxer briefs.

“Shit,” Aaron breathed, a grin appearing on Iriye’s face. Hearing him curse was all she needed. She brushed her hand against him again, feeling his length twitch a little. 

“You want me to touch you?” Iriye teased. Aaron kissed her again, Iriye moaning softly into his mouth. She teased her hand against him, and he pressed into it.

“Fuck yes,” Aaron stated, his resolve slowly slipping. Iriye tried to wiggle her hands into his pants, but she needed them out of the way. Aaron moved off the couch to remove his pants, the bulge even more apparent in his briefs. Before she could even marvel at it more, his hands were on her dress, pulling it down her body.

Aaron groaned as he saw how her boyshorts had a wet spot, a telltale sign of how turned on Iriye was for him. He was about to take them off when Iriye stopped him. 

“Last time, it was about me. This time, it’s about you,” Iriye stated. “Do you have condoms?”

As much as Aaron was a giver, a woman being straightforward and dominant with him was attractive. It made him want to just bend Iriye over and fuck her into the couch. But patience was key. So was protection.

“Let me go check,” Aaron got up, kissing her deeply and letting his tongue slide into her mouth, needing to after taking her whole body in. She let her nails drag against his neck, and he groaned before moving away and heading towards a door.

Iriye laid back against the couch, trying her best not to let her hand slip down between her legs and keep working herself up. But the way her clit throbbed in anticipation, she rubbed her legs together to try and calm herself down, only making it worse.

After a few minutes, she heard Aaron come back into the living room, sitting up at the frown on his face.

“I don’t have any…” Aaron rubbed his hand over his chin.

“None,” Iriye asked again.

“None,” 

Aaron gauged her face for her reaction, seeing her chuckle. 

“I don’t know if I should be happy you have none or nervous because you used them up,” Iriye shook her head. A grin went to Aaron’s face.

“I’ve been busy with work. Plus, when it comes to matters of the heart, it takes me a bit to open up,” He said as he moved to sit by her. Iriye leaned into his side. “I can go run for some,”

“It’s too late to be driving around for protection,” Iriye scratched at her scalp softly. “Honestly, maybe this is just what we needed. Let us think straight for a minute,” She said.

“Right,” Aaron agreed, even if he was looking at her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, and she let her hands slip to his neck. “There are other things we can do that don’t need condoms if you want to,”

Iriye purred at the temptation. “And what’s that?” She teased. Aaron’s hands moved to cup her ass with one big hand, and the other slipped between her legs. 

“Open up for me,” Aaron stated, and Iriye slipped her legs open as he asked. He let his hand tease the hem of her panties. 

“I was trying to take care of you first,” Iriye moaned as she felt him toying with her panties. 

“There’s this thing called doing it simultaneously,” Aaron said cheekily, and Iriye gasped at him, slapping his chest playfully. “Some even say the same time or mutual,” Iriye grasped him through his boxer briefs, and he groaned. “Shit,”

“What were you saying?” Iriye asked as she got a hold of his length and stroked him. She felt his head go on her shoulder, and then she was pushed back onto the couch. 

Aaron crawled over her till he was right between her legs, and she kept her eyes on him as she felt him finally slip his hand into her panties, his middle finger already slipping past her folds and her back arching into his hand. 

“That’s it,” Aaron moaned, slipping the finger to press against her entrance before he dipped it in, Iriye rolling her hips toward his hand. “Oh god, Aaron,” Iriye whined. She felt him thrust a single digit into her a few more times, going slow as her body worked itself up. She was getting even wetter as he watched her face, moving to kiss him deeply.

"I wanted to get you off," Iriye gasped against his lips, his finger sinking into the fleshy spot inside of her.

“Trust me, watching you get off turns me on,” He moved to kiss down the side of her neck. Those words went straight to her core, gasping as she felt him pressing a second finger inside of her, and she tried her best to recover. She loved how his fingers and hands were so big, remembering how he gripped her ass.

Iriye needed a bit more control, so she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs and was met with the leaking head of his length. She let her hand wrap around him, stroking him slowly, trying to keep up with the rhythm he was setting inside of her. She stroked her hand up upward towards the head, feeling a vein against her palm, and he groaned, his fingers stopping. Iriye giggled, seeing Aaron, who was very calm and collected, lose his cool.

“You good?” Iriye smirked. Aaron’s eyes grew darker, groaning into her mouth as he kissed her deeply. “Please Aaron… I wanna make you come,” She had ground her way to bliss, and god damn it, she needed to see what he looked like when he came. He heard her pleading and pulled his fingers out of her. 

“Afterwards, I’m tasting you,” Aaron stated matter-of-factly. “I’m clean. I can show you,” 

“Aaron…” Iriye giggled as she pushed his chest so she could get up. She moved to her knees, taking the pillow he handed her. She got herself adjusted and caught sight of him licking his fingers that had been inside of her. So, of course, she leaned up to kiss him, moaning as she tasted herself on his lips.

Iriye adjusted herself until she was comfortable, her hands going to his boxer briefs and pulling them down till his length popped up, her seeing the heavy length twitch against his stomach. She leaned forward and licked the tip, hearing the breathy moan that left his mouth as she teased the tip.

Iriye wouldn’t say she was a dick-sucking enthusiast for just anyone. She had to be comfortable with the person before she would show them how much she loved sucking dick. And it should have freaked her out that she hadn’t let Aaron take her on a proper date before she was on her knees, teasing the tip and tasting the pre cum his tip pushed out. 

Iriye played with the tip, realizing Aaron was very sensitive there quickly. She allowed herself to take the tip further into her mouth, sucking softly as she didn’t want the moment to end. There was a sweetness to his taste, and she hummed as she bobbed her head on his length.

“Fuck,” Aaron breathed, feeling her beginning to slide deeper. He knew he was slightly above average, but he didn’t want to hurt Iriye even then. His hands squeezed the couch respectfully, wishing he could grip her head. But he groaned as Iriye pulled from the tip, him looking down at her eyes as one hand focused on the tips as she began to mouth at the sides, tongue licking him like a popsicle that she wanted to melt. He saw that sparkle in her eyes as she licked back up his length. He let his hands move to the goddess locs, carefully grabbing some in his hand and guiding her when she took his length back in her mouth. He felt her trying to tease the tip again, and he tightened on her hair, not wanting to pull too hard.  

Iriye’s eyes met his, preening at how Aaron was looking. 

“Take that cock deeper, Iriye,” Aaron spoke, that South London boy coming out. She bobbed her head again, working him deeper and using her hand to stroke whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She moaned around him, feeling his length twitch at the sensations. “Fuck, love,” He said. “You look so good sucking my cock,” He breathed, his eyes focused on her.

Iriye could feel her panties soaking through as she continued sucking Aaron’s dick. Hearing him groan and moan, his words turned her on as she worked herself up to relax around his length. She let the tip hit the back of her throat some, finding when she gagged on his length, his hips thrust up as he wanted to get deeper. She gagged a few more times, the gaps and moans coming out more, his fingers tightening and flexing in her hair.

Iriye pulled back, a string of saliva attaching to her lip from his length. She stroked him, looking up into Aaron’s eyes.

“Don’t hold back. Take what you want from me,” She playfully winked before moving to suck his length back in, gagging twice around his length before she swallowed him, sucking on him. Aaron let off grunts and whines as he thrusts up into her mouth a few times, gasps coming with every movement until she felt the warm cum spill down her throat. As much as she wanted to choke on his cock, Aaron pulled up, his length twitching and coming a little on her lips as she stroked him. 

“Iriye,” He moaned as she attempted to clean off the tip of his cock, Aaron still sensitive. She let her tongue out, hoping to catch some more spurts of cum on her lips before she swallowed.

Aaron watched on as the woman who was so confident and could command a room swallowed his cum, feeling so satisfied as she did so. It was so fucking nasty and hot.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Aaron breathed before kissing her, licking into her mouth to catch a taste of her and his cum on her tongue.

Iriye moaned into the kiss, whining as she was so turned on for more. 

“Come up here,” Iriye felt him manhandle her up off her knees and turn her to suit up against the couch. She couldn’t help but giggle as Aaron had to push the coffee table back across the floor so he would have more room on the ground. “Something funny?”

“Not at all,” Iriye said, the man a giant in his home. He grinned up at her before kissing the inside of her right thigh, playfully biting at her. She let out a moan. He kissed down till he made it to her center. He then moved onto the next thigh, kissing up till he pulled back, his hands tucked into her panties.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna need these,” Aaron chuckled, moving to pull them off. Iriye’s most delicate parts of herself were revealed, and she moved to lift her legs so she could take her socks off. 

“I’m not gonna need these either,” She teased. But she quickly shut up as Aaron sniffed her panties.

“You smell so good,” Aaron chuckled, throwing her panties into his pants. Iriye figured she wasn’t getting them back, and honestly, she wasn’t mad at it. Panties were replaceable, but Aaron smelling hers was not.

Iriye let Aaron hook his hands under the back of her knees, propping her open for him like a feast.

“Let me know what feels good,” Aaron said as he looked at her. Iriye nodded. He kept her eyes on her as he swiped his tongue slowly through her lower lips, collecting the sweet juices, a moan rolling out of her.  He repeated the motion a few more times, every swipe causing her back to arch and her moans to float in the air, but it wasn’t enough.

“Aaron,” She whined softly. “I need more,” He heard her words, and she felt the two fingers he used inside of her teasing her slit. She pressed her hips down, wanting to slide onto them, but Aaron held her thighs back.

“I let you have your fun. Now let me have mine, sweetheart,” Aaron spoke. She saw his smile and let him get away with talking to her like that. His fingers slipped into her pussy, and she arched her back, almost shutting her legs around him. “Nah, keep them open for me,” He said. 

Iriye was holding them, but Aaron guided one leg to his shoulder and then the other, caging him in. His fingers began searching for that fleshy spot inside of her; Iriye whined as she felt him hitting spots along the way.

“Oh my god,” Iriye moaned as she realized he wasn’t going to stop, especially as he found her g spot again. She rolled her hips against his fingers, hearing how wet and gushy he was making her pussy for him.

“That feels good to you, Iriye,” Aaron asked, his lips kissing her thighs. Her moans were enough answers for him, the tiny twitches in her thighs. But he knew she needed more. “Tell me, baby,”

“Your mouth,” She cried. “I need your mouth… this is not enough to make me come… please,” She said between breathy moans and gasps.

Aaron obliged her, his lips sealing around her swollen clit and sucking it to find the proper pressure. It took him a few moments to try to see what Iriye wanted. What sent her hips surging to his face or gave him nothing, but he loved discovering a lover’s body.

“Oh shit,” Iriye knew when she cursed during sex, something was being done right. She moved to look down, seeing his lips sucking her clit as his fingers rubbed a path inside of her. She moved to let her hands run over his scalp, her nails dragging up and down his scalp.

“Aaron,” She cried, his name a mantra she would repeat if it meant he never stopped. She felt him stop sucking her clit before she caught a peek of his tongue beginning to flick at her clit; short cries left her body as he moved his tongue with precision, almost pornstar levels even. “Oh fuck!” She whined, more words falling out as he moved his fingers in tandem with his tongue. She would gladly pay the toll if this were payback for the teasing.

Iriye continued to roll her hips toward his hand as he fucked her with his fingers, tongue flicking and sucking at her clit. He pulled back for a moment.

“You’re gonna come for me?” He asked her, almost a plea for her. She looked into the darkening hazel eyes and nodded. 

“I will! I will!” She wanted to scream. She would do anything for him.

“Good,” Aaron moved his to flick and suck at her clit as his fingers moved to usher her orgasm forward. At first, it felt like a tug-o-war, a push and pull for it to come forward. She let herself fall into it, the first crescendo warning her of what was to come, quite literally. She threw her head back before focusing on him, licking her lips and whining out as another thrust of his fingers and the gates flooded. Short cries became gasps and moans as her orgasm rushed in, and she came, her juices flowing down her pussy, and she felt her walls sporadically tightening around Aaron. 

Instead of letting her enjoy the fall, Aaron continued to work her through it, seeing how good she tasted and how she reacted to being overstimulated. It was almost too much as he sucked her clit, rubbing at her g-spot. She wanted to close her legs, but Aaron had her spread and locked in with his shoulders.

Iriye whined as he prolonged her orgasm, her nails scratching at his bare shoulders until she tapped him.

“Aaron,” She whined, feeling him finally let up off of her clit, and she felt him work her down with his fingers, her juices sliding down his fingers and wrist. She sighed as she slumped against the couch, his fingers sliding out of her. Aaron trailed his hand, wet with her juices, up her body until he teased her lips with them. She grinned and opened her mouth, letting him slide them in so she could suck her juices off of him, mimicking how she suckled his dick before. 

Aaron straightened up, their lips connected passionately as Iriye let her hands wrap around his neck, him leaning into her. She giggled as she could feel him and her pussy clenched, 

“How you feel, love?” Aaron asked her, pushing one of her goddess locs behind her ear.

“Good,” Iriye hated that she had no words except that, but he gave her the feeling. She couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. 

“You sure you’re a writer cause good,” Iriye swiped at Aaron’s face. 

“You play too much. To think I wanted to give you morning head,” Iriye leaned back, and he followed her, his head leaving between her clothed breast.

“You want to give me morning head?” Aaron questioned her.

“I did, but that’s only if we head to sleep,” Iriye challenged him. Aaron moved to hoist her in his arms, Iriye giggling as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, letting him carry her towards his room.

After cleaning themselves up in his bathroom, Iriye was currently in one of his shirts; her five foot eight stature and curvy waist had his shirt hitting right at the top of her thighs and giving a little peek at the bottom of her ass. She forgone her underwear as Aaron repeated that he wouldn’t give them back. She threatened to take his underwear but knew if she took them off of him again, the snake between his legs would not be going to bed. Tangled up in each other arms in his bed, both talking about whatever came to mind

“I honestly haven’t had a reason to need condoms,” Aaron mentioned, Iriye looking up at him. 

“Really?” Iriye said. “I would think it was being thrown at you,”

“It is,” Aaron admitted, and Iriye raised a brow. “But that’s not me,” He stated honestly.  Iriye propped herself up on his chest some. 

“Pussy being thrown at you doesn’t suit you,” Iriye teased, hoping a red flag popped up. Because he was so unreal. “You have an arm tattoo, Jamaican, and a Gemini. You could have anyone dropping the draws with just one look,” Iriye joked, and Aaron looked at her.

“I could have anyone, but at the end of the day, I want someone who wants me. Who chooses me. Not just anyone,” Aaron stated. There was a truth and a depth there that she loved seeing. Iriye leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“I’m sure you’ll find that,” Iriye yawned. 

“What are you looking for?” Aaron asked her. She thought about it for a moment. 

“Someone who can love my ugly parts,” Iriye explained. “Someone who can be around me not only during the good times but the bad times,” 

“Well, I hope you get that,” Aaron stated, his hand rubbing her back some. They lay in comfortable silence, Iriye hoping that what he said was true. That she would ge tit. She hoped for a second… she would have it with Aaron. @wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[weiszklee]

Sure, I can get behind constituting imperialism as a baseline upon which other analysis is built. What is the analysis? I don't see it. I mean, maybe it's in the post those tags up there are from, I don't know. The one thing I see above that kind of has the shape of a valuable insight is this:

It kinda reveals a tendency for global north people to just take the ways in which their society has benefitted from colonialism and imperialism for granted.

And I just don't think it follows. Or rather, it's just part of a bigger patern: People tend to take everything about their modern lifestyle for granted. True. But I don't need to look at fantasy books to realise this. It is not a secret to anyone talking to other people on a regular basis. Now, literature could work as an antidote to that, sure, but I don't think it's fair to demand that it do so:

And yeah, some fantasy authors don't give a damn about how anything in their world works. Frankly, I don't consider them very good authors in general.

Like, we will have to agree to disagree on that one. There are loads of different reasons to read and enjoy fiction. Learning about the real world can be one of them, but it is not a requirement. An author who fails to teach me about the real world is not doing a bad job, they just have other priorities. I usually learn about the real world from non-fiction anyway.

My bludgeon comment maybe went a bit far, but you are misconstruing it, which is funny since you are accusing me of being the one who is not reading properly: It is because imperialism can be detected everywhere that not much insight is gained by detecting it somewhere specific. Pointing out the imperialism of something becomes a bludgeon when it is selectively employed against the things already disliked for other reasons. I do admit though that I do not know whether that is what was happening in this discussion, so I apologise.

👀

[tpwk-formula1]

2K Special Masterlist

Here is the sneak peak to what you have to look forward to once I hit 2K followers! Before we get into the goodies I want to take a second to thank each of you so much for bringing this blog to life and reading and interacting with my stories! I started this blog because I decided to throw on a race last May… Who knew watching Lando winning his first race would change the entire direction of my life. I have never been chill about my love for F1 and while it has been under a year of me being a fan I have grown up around motorsports my whole life. Anyways enough with the sappiness I am just so thankful! 

I am trying to make my blog more interactive and while I love my pizza menu creating an entire fic from plot to porn to aftercare it can become too much so I am starting new AUs so while I am working on requests I can still make sure to keep you fed! Here are the introductions to the new universe here at Lee-Lee’s!

*Means once the first fic is posted they are open for requests to start building the AU! I also wrote in the TW what their hashtag will be so you can find all the requests for each on there! If I haven’t marked one of your favorites let me know and if there is enough of you guys interested I will add them! I want to keep it to only a few at first so I can keep each AU active

Porn Star! Carlos X Innocent! Reader*

Plot: Y/N is your average university student studying abroad in Spain for a few semesters when she stumbles across a Spanish speaking porn star. While her spanish was far from perfect she could understand his dirty talk clear as day. She can’t help her little panties getting soaked. Once she had exhausted his Twitter to it’s fullest she breaks down and buys herself the top subscription to his Only Fans. She’s quiet and lurks in the distance but as she grows more desperate for the beautiful man she grows more bold. Somehow one thing leads to another and she’s on a call with Carlos begging to cum for him.

Sneak Peak:

“You’re not cumming until I get my hands on you”

TW: First Orgasm, CORRUPTION, loss of virginity… #porn star! carlos

Tattoo Artist! Lewis X Piercer! Reader*

Plot: Lewis has trained Y/N to be the perfect piercer but when his thoughts start turning unprofessional he can’t help himself to a new piercing… 8 to be exact. Y/N had completed several genital piercings in her time as a piercer but never has it been on someone she knew so personally so when her boss grows hard under her touch she can’t help but turn the relationship a bit unprofessional.

Sneak Peak:

“Yes 8 each spaced an inch apart” 

TW: Body Modifications, oral, pleasure dom! Lewis… #tattoo artist! lewis

Virgin! Oscar X PR! Manager Reader

Plot: Oscar could admit being a 23 year old virgin was a bit insane but in his defense he was to focussed on racing to be thinking about girls, but when he meets his new PR manager who has quickly become like a second mom despite the close age. After a drunk confession Y/N makes it her new mission to teach Oscar all things women and sex!

Sneak Peak:

“Osc, you don’t have to be so gentle”

TW: Sex lessons (all sex basics), Sub! Oscar

Charles X Pay for Sex! Reader

Plot: After his recent break up with his long term girl friend Charles can’t help himself but start looking on some shady websites. When he finds a “pay for sex” site curiosity got the best of him and when he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on he couldn’t not book himself a night. When he realizes he could purchase her for an extended stay he quickly writes her our an email with an attached deposit. After some communication she is fully prepared for her weekend in Monaco

Sneak Peak:

“Cumming already? God you’re never gonna want to leave”

TW: Free Use

Pierre X Tori X Max*

Plot: When Tori finally admits to her boy friend Pierre that their sex life was rather shit what she least expects is for him to come back a few days later with some grand plan. The plan in question is having a threesome… with another man, and not just any man but his teammate Max Verstappen. Y/N is even more shocked walking into Max’s apartment to find out he had a sex dungeon. A room he designed and built with the sole purpose of exploring all kinds of kinks.

Sneak Peak:

“We have a list of kinks we’re going to try tonight”

TW: Bondage, Sex Toys, Double Penetration, Edging, Multiple Orgasms

Lando X Luisha X Reader*

Plot: Lu and Y/N have been childhood best friends and on occasions more than friends. The two girls had shared their first kiss with each other, and some of their other first while they were in their later teens but when Lu started dating Lando it all kind of stopped. But after a nasty fight between Lando and Lu, Lu seeks the affection from her best friend. From then it became sneaky kisses, flirty comments, and far more sleepovers than the average 25 year old girls. When Lando catching them in the act they fear everything is about to crumble, but to their shock his only rule for their new dynamic was he got to join the fun sometimes.

Sneak Peak:

"I'm not mad, just sad I wasn't invited"

TW: wlw, Cheating, threesome… #Poly! Lando 

Oscar X Bookwarm! Reader

Plot: Y/N is your typical book worm. She reads all types of books from classics, to thrillers, and even self help books but when she gets a hyper fixation on spicy romance novels she can’t help the dirty thoughts running through her head. On what she thought was a private call she admits to her best friend that a part of her wished Oscar fucked her the way some book boyfriend fuck, but didn’t know how to bring it up to him since she was already satisfied in bed and didn’t want to hurt her longterm boyfriend feelings. 

Sneak Peak:

“Go on, read it to me”

TW: Oral, rough sex

Frat Boy! Lando X Sorority President! Reader*

Plot: Y/N and Lando have been friends since their freshman year at the University of Alabama where they met while pledging for their respective house. Their friendship grew quick and while they had their share of intimate moments throughout the year it takes one beginning of the year party for everything to change.

Sneak Peak:

"Fuck, I've been waiting for this"

TW: Cross faded sex… #Frat! Lando

Retired! Sebastian X Eloise! Driver*

Plot: When Eloise Harris was announced as the newest rookie to the 2025 grid after Checo was essentially fired she was completely stunned when her manager called her to let her know that her childhood hero is asking if she had a mentor. As the season is set to begin Sebastian comes up with the bright idea of having a reward and punishment system. While it started with small gifts or extra workouts it eventually started to morph into something more taboo.

Sneak Peak:

“Been such a good girl all weekend”

TW: Dom/Sub, Edging, Spanking

Gabriel X Older! Reader*

Plot: Y/N Norris is Lando’s twin sister and works for Mclaren in their stategry department. When she meets their development driver who will be joining Kick Sauber at the end of the season, she can’t help but notice the blushing cheeks or the wandering eyes of the young boy. When she comes across his Raya account she got curious and ended matching with him. That’s when sneaky meet ups and quickies start to become a regular occurrence. 

Sneak Peak:

“Shit! That wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m so sorry”

TW: Quickies, Secretive, Caught… #Rookie! Gabi

Single Dad! Kimi R X Nanny! Reader*

Plot: When the newly divorced Kimi realizes he needs some extra help during race weekends when his ex wife decides to runaway with some French model leaving him to raise their 3 year old twins on his own. When his teammate suggest getting a nanny the two of them search for the perfect nanny who is qualified enough to take care of 2 young toddlers. When they found Y/N they knew she was perfect. It was almost instant that Kimi knew having a woman like Y/N was going to be far harder than he realized. He assumes his quiet demeanor is covering his track but Y/N finds the cameras in her room almost instantly.

Sneak Peak:

“Kimi, I know you’ve been watching me at night”

TW: Stalking… #Single Dad! Kimi

CEO! Toto X Assistant! Reader*

Plot: When Toto hires Y/N he had no idea the lowkey bootcamp she was going to turn the Mercedes garage into. She took over some of Toto’s smaller jobs like making sure the new stylist was picking appropriate clothing for the boys or making sure their nutritionists where feeding them enough food. But when she starts assisting Toto with more personal things a quite unprofessional relationship starts to develop. 

Sneak Peak:

"Get on your knees under my desk"

TW: Sensual… #CEO! Toto

Nico H X Ollie’s Older Sister! Olivia*

Plot: Nico first noticed Olivia around the paddock pretty early into the season but when she showed up in the Haas garage with Oliver Bearman it takes him roughly 5 seconds to realize she was the older sister. Nico couldn’t help his wandering eye or the way Y/N is almost always looking in his direction when his eyes find her. When they both end up plastered in Vegas their next actions completely change the direction of their future.

Sneak Peak:

“I’m fucking screwed, Nico!”

TW: Pregnancy, Drunk Sex.... #Dad! Nico

Team Principal! Daniel X Rookie Horner! Reader*

Plot: When Max Verstappen announced his retirement at the end of the 2025 season due to his beautiful daughter being born Red Bull Racing was faced with the challenge of who will replace the 4X World Champion. After a long debate the settled on Y/N Horner the oldest daughter of Christian Horner. Red Bull knew he could no longer be the Team Principal so who better to replace Christian than Daniel Ricciardo, former Red Bull driver. Y/N and Daniel almost instantly start butting heads. He thinks she’s too cocky and was only handed her seat while she was on a mission to prove her boss wrong and keep her seat. She would do anything to keep her seat.

Sneak Peak:

“Oh come on princess, P6 isn’t good enough to cum”

TW: DUB CON! Coercion… #Team Principal! Daniel

2024 F1 Grid X Paddock Bunny! Reader (requests are always open for the Paddock Bunny Series)

Plot: Y/N Brown has been with the majority of the guys on the grid by now but when they get the bright idea of renting out a sex club she gets to bounce from room to room exploring an intimate moment with each driver and their favorite kinks.

Sneak Peak:

"Get ready for a long night, Bunny"

TW: Gang Bang, Toys, Rough, Breeding