#i have another book I've literally been working on for a year that i need tk get my butt in gear and finish
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Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running
Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.
From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...
Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?
But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.
Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)
Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.
Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...
There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).
"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"
Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...
Shot, and chaser:
Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.
Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...
He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.
The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.
Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.
(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)
Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? đ«Ł
#genshin impact#haikaveh#kavetham#alhaitham#kaveh#I wasn't even looking for half these screencaps#I was just scrolling through the content and âOops; there's another oneâ#imagine thinking it's a âcoincidenceâ to run into someone in a desert that stretches hundreds to thousands of miles#I say this in the most positive way possible#but I think Alhaitham might actually need an intervention#bro is reading PULP FICTION for a man#checking the message boards daily for updates from a dude he already lives with#skipping work to do favors for his favorite#I would say his Kaveh hyper-focus is impacting his quality of life#but Kaveh IS his quality of life so...#do you think the merchants in the market are getting savvy#when they see Alhaitham coming they're just like#âOh Mister Alhaitham! Mister Kaveh was really admiring this painting the last time he came through--â#how many times do you think Alhaitham's brought home new foods only to never buy them again because Kaveh didn't like them?#we could end world deforestation with Alhaitham's pining alone
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Hey all, it's Juneteenth. I feel like this is a good day to talk about folks in prison.
I'm pen pals with several folks in prison. I've been doing this for many years now, and i think it's one of the most important things I've ever done. I started because i was interested in prison abolition, and i was told this was the way to get started in that movement. It's also a way to invest in our communities. Because queer, poc, poor, and disabled communities are disproportionately affected by the industrial prison complex. It's our people who are being thrown into cages and often being forgotten, tortured, enslaved, and denied their rights. We can invest in our communities and participate in mutual aid no matter what our resources or ability levels are. Being a pen pal requires investing a pretty small amount of time and money. Literally, if you can write a letter, you can do it (and often, you can send the letters online, so you don't even need paper).
I have made some true friends as a pen pal. People who have offered me support as much as i have offered them. I have one pen pal who i can talk to about things that i don't talk about with anyone else.
I won't lie, it's not always easy. There have been a couple pen pals that i didn't get along with well. I had to tell them that it wasn't working and gently end our correspondence. I've had two pen pals that stopped writing to me after they got out, and i just have to hope that they're ok out there. And these folks put up with really hard, sometimes horrifying shit inside. It can be hard to process that. Though, I've known other folks with pen pals who clearly set boundaries about what they're comfortable talking about and that's worked for them. I've had a pen pal ask me to do more than i was able to do for them, and i had to tell them no. They understood. You have to be able to set boundaries in any relationship, though.
You get to decide what you can do to help a pen pal. For some of us, that's just writing letters. I sometimes send gifts to folks (mostly books from Amazon). For one of my pen pals, i look up info about magic the gathering or D&D because she plays those games inside. For another, i wrote a letter to help support her case for getting a shorter sentence. One friend likes me to look up facts about his favorite actresses and sports teams. When one friend was facing transphobic discrimination, i organized a call in to the superintendent (and we really helped her). Some pen pals are looking for romantic connections (they generally tell you up front of that's the case). Many queer prisoners just need a connection to their community.
Please at least check out www.blackandpink.org and learn about what being a pen pal can mean for people on the inside. That organization has connected me with several queer pen pals. Even if you're not going to sign up to be a pen pal, just take a few minutes to learn about it.
Thanks!
Ps: you can ask me if you have any questions about
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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.
oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.
oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.
which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.
but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.
which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.
and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!
and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.
the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!
and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -
what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.
and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.
#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right#what should i have done better#i did it ALL the right way#(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money#whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere#i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard#i have been working since i was 13#WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much#but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else#or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it#not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better
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I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs đ„ș
okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!
Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.
A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much
Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.
Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long
The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend
Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.
Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting
butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs
this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jasonâs relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much
ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!
To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.
Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me
#batman fic rec#fic rec#batfam fic rec#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne#batlantern#fic: jason and the three terrors#fic: life happens#fic: collision of masks#fic: the time before#jason todd fic rec#dick grayson fic rec#damian wayne fic rec
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I'm Alive
I posted this on patreon so I might as well post it again here. Hopefully current and past patrons see this as well as people who have just been generally curious about where I've been.
I'm very sorry for not being around and I'm very grateful to those who stuck around. To those who didn't, I get it and I truly appreciate you passing through.Â
Last year and the beginning of this year have been pretty bad. Some of you might have heard about my grandma's death and sadly, she was just the first of the family losses in the time I've been gone. There was also a friend's death discovery, my parents' health tanking, my friends Going Through It, and my own physical/mental problems. I didn't want to talk to the internet about these things because they were/are very overwhelming and private and tbh I used all my energy to help with the household and make sure work got turned in on time. When I had spare time after dealing with the near constant disasters, I didn't really feel like interacting with the internet at all beyond using it as a way to talk to far away friends (mostly to give them the thumbs up that i was alive) or watch/read things when my brain was less scrambled. Social media was an absolute no go and I didn't have any non-work art to post so I just kind of mentally crawled under the porch to die lol.Â
I only drew work related things for months due to extreme burnout and it took me almost a month off after my last job to remember how to create again. I couldn't draw or write, it was kinda like art block except it was more like nothing was there at all? It's hard to explain.Â
Things are still happening but I need to get back in the saddle eventually so here I am.Â
I'm going to post the little art I did in June and all the sketches I did in January when I re-learned how to draw for myself. Again, I'm so sorry for being away without saying anything and I'm grateful to whoever threw me a buck, or even just casually enjoyed my art. Leaving like I did was really irresponsible and there's no excuse for not at least making a post about all of this sooner. Â Every month I got a patreon payment was another wave of guilt because I literally couldn't give y'all anything but at the same time that money was letting me book flights to funerals and keeping my mom comfortable while she recovered from surgery right after I spent a lot of my savings in 2022 trying to fight my late cat's cancer. And then not posting about what was going on made me more anxious as time went on because there was more guilt every month so I felt like I needed to come back with a bunch of art and energy and good reasons and it was just. A Mess.Â
But anyway.
I'm alive, I'm back. The Horrors persist, but so do I.
Thank you for your patience.
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I was recently fortunate enough to win an auction for a piece of Wedding Peach merchandise I've been unsuccessfully trying to win online for years (at this point, literally decades) and it got me thinking about how lucky I am to not be starting my collection today.
Prices for all older, more obscure magical girl items have ballooned over the past ten years but Wedding Peach merchandise is definitely one of the worst offenders. It's not uncommon to see single manga volumes going for 10k yen, 20k yen or more for the picture books, and let's not even touch on the amount the toys go for (literally several thousand dollars a pop).
In an ideal world we'd have better access to the series itself at least (the Japanese release of the DVDs and manga, for example, are in high demand due to the manga being out of print for something like 28 years and the DVDs being a relatively limited run from 25 years ago). I understand it's unlikely that we'll be getting more fun toys or merchandise for the series, but it is truly bleak when people can't even access the series itself.
This isn't some lost media type thing, this is just capitalism and it solidifies why I feel a sense of duty to ruin my own collection in order to archive what I have. If my house burns down or washes away in a flood, I truly don't think I can restart my collection and have a fraction of what I have now ever again. It's too expensive and too time-consuming, I simply don't have another 25 years up my sleeve to dig through every possible website to try and find scraps of 90s Ciao magazine issues.
In that sense I feel like I should share what I have with others while I have the opportunity. Even if a teenager today falls for Wedding Peach like I did as a kid, they would need to be extremely wealthy to get these pieces together and I just don't think your ability to own the core of a series should come down to wealth alone.
Goodness knows I'm not wealthy and I had very little growing up, hence my collection took decades to get where it is now. I don't want people to have to endure all that just to see a picture book from 30 years ago or to see an obscure illustration from a Ciao paper bag given away for free in 1994.
The efforts of fans keep series like this alive long after most companies have dismissed their long term profitability (although I do see you Germany with your beautiful hardback manga editions and I thank you).
Not everyone wants to break down their collection for the benefit of others and I respect that (there are some things in my collection I don't want to pull apart either), but I appreciate the efforts of those who do and aspire to do better with my own archiving as I work to get Weddingpeach.net updated to celebrate 30 years of the manga series.
#personal#ramblings#OK was truly rambling there#pics are previews of some upcoming 1200 dpi scans#but archiving itself isn't just media files#it's sharing factual information like release dates and staff names#that can get pushed down in AI search results or largely ignored unless preserved#it's sharing your enjoyment of a series with others and what files you have#it's above all retaining passion for something long after profitability and general interest has waned#anime collecting#archiving and media preservation
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Hello hi itâs me, your resident entertainment PR enthusiast. I simply need to talk about the sequel announcement. This is all speculation, but I work in entertainment-adjacent communications and once convinced a household name celebrity to stay at my event to do select press interviews when his wife was going to go into labor at literally any minute, so I like to think I've got a pretty good sense of all of this.
So buckle in, because I'm about how actually fantastic this rollout was, because Iâd wager theyâve been planning this since the premiere.Â
RWRB came out truly smack-dab in the middle of the actors' strike. We all know just how much press we must have missed out on, because the strike started before promo would have kicked off in earnest. And when it was finally over in November, the actors are potentially out of contract for promotion, and thatâs not even taking into consideration that the holidays are coming up and the six weeks from American Thanksgiving to New Yearâs is truly a black hole of press. So this little movie has to rely almost entirely on fan reaction and word of mouth to hit because theyâre so limited in what they can do for promo. And it IS a hit! Records are broken! Comments for an extended version (which, ok Matthew we get it, does not exist) and a sequel start almost immediately.
The marketing team makes the most of what theyâve got: theyâre keeping up the official character accounts, theyâre dropping deleted scenes and BTS. We get cornettos! The fireside scene! Bloopers! Notably absent? Brownstone Thanksgiving. Weâve seen BTS photos of it, we know it exists. Thanksgiving 2023 would have been a great time to drop it, but they donât. This is the approximate point at which my own personal sequel speculation began. After the strike ends, the posting pace slows considerably but itâs still consistent. Itâs just enough to keep it in your mind but not enough to be like âwhy are you still posting this much about it?â And this continues into 2024.
On the contracting side, conversations were likely actively happening at this point. I wouldnât be surprised if negotiations picked up literally as soon as the strike ended. The producers would have had that time to get Matthew and Casey back on board and be fully prepped and ready to move on to contracting actors the minute they could. Itâd be a shot in the dark to try to guess when these were finalized, but at some point between November 9 and May 9, yeah, theyâre in.
But whew, Nicholas is booked and BUSY. Mary & George drops internationally March 5, The Idea of You closes SXSW on March 17, two weeks later M&G starts airing in the US and Canada, and a month after that, TIOY is available for streaming (and limited theatrical release, which is another whole post), and in between all those premieres, heâs everywhere. Heâs criss-crossing the country (and tbh the Atlantic Ocean) for all of these appearances, truly going non-stop. The pacing of the premieres makes it nearly impossible to squeeze in another project announcement, and if they had, it would have been a bigger part of every interview he did after, which is something his own team would be working to balance. Plus between TIOY and RWRB, Prime would have been pitching stories against themselves. Better to let him finish out his other promotional appearances and then switch over.
At the same time, weâve got awards and red carpet season starting. At nearly every red carpet appearance not for their own projects, both Taylor and Nick are asked about a sequel. If an interviewer is given enough time, they ask about a sequel. Sure, fans comment about a sequel on every vaguely rwrb social post from an official account, but the press asking about a sequel felt like a lot to me. Everyone always gave the same vague answer, that theyâd be up for it if the story is right, that they donât know but would be happy to. (Except one time, Nick does slip up and give an answer that feels a little more definitive here where he says âconversations are being hadâ all the way back in late February/early March). Press are asking the question so consistently that it felt like if it wasnât happening, PR teams would have put the sequel on the do not ask list.
Then Prime starts actually ramping up on a FYC campaign for the movie. I'm gonna be honest, I was so surprised. It's a rom com, the odds of a rom com getting any sort of awards recognition is so slim, but I thought, "ok, sure, use FYC as a way to get the promo boost they need for an announcement of whatever's coming next." And then I looked up and Variety has picked it as the winner in the best television movie category, which is blowing my mind. The other categories they're submitting in are stacked and I think a nomination beyond television movie will be a long shot, but again, it's big for it to even be considered. And if they're being talked about, that means Prime's gotta put out a great showing for their FYC campaign.
Which brings us to this week. We start off on Monday with Nick at the Met Gala referring to Uma as his mother-in-law. Incredible. Love it. Wednesday and Thursday are a one-two punch of a FYC event and fan event, and the gangâs all here. At the FYC, we get the industry side of things: new portraits and interviews with Deadline, process talk, etc. Because this little rom com is actually doing pretty well and beating the odds? Knowing what we know now, the PR teams spent this week pre-briefing the press on the sequel announcement. Notable (at least to my knowledge) the sequel question doesn't get asked at the FYC event. Because the press already knows it's coming.
Now, on to yesterday. They do a fan screening and Q&A, and they literally roll out the red carpet. Nine months after the premiere and exactly six months after the strike ended, they get the gang back together with fans of the movie, who they relied on so heavily during the strike to help make the movie a success. The tagline on the screenâs giant promo image has been updated to specifically thank fans for âmaking history with us.â The moderator for the Q&A is the same person who interviewed Taylor and Nick at the beginning of FYC campaign season, their first joint interview since GQ (right? pretty sure. it's all a blur tbh). And at the end of the Q&A, minutes before 12 AM ET, when the embargo on the press release would have lifted, they make the announcement not to press, but to the fans. The fans who loved the book, who watched it over and over, who spread the word about the movie to help make it one of Primeâs top three rom coms OF ALL TIME.
Itâs just⊠an absolute masterclass in how to execute a major announcement that embraces the fans in a time where fandom and interaction between creators and fans can be an absolute minefield. Prime saw the opportunity to lean into the fannishness of it all and they took it and it was a slam dunk.
So where do we go from here? IDK but hereâs some unconnected thoughts in list form like Alex would want.
The bookâs 5th anniversary is next Wednesday, the 14th.
Caseyâs been posting about working on [redacted] for months at this point, which is almost certainly the screenplay
Nick mentioned needing to be back in the UK for filming soon
They would probably like to release this in US election off-cycle years, so that means 2025 or 2027 (and 2027 is too far away). 2026 would be less bad since itâs a midterm election, but still.
Filming could reasonably start sooner rather than later, and even without an unfinished script
I guess weâre back on content watch for blond hair and BTS pictures
#rwrb#red white and royal blue#taylor zakhar perez#nicholas galitzine#i'm gonna be thinking about this for YEARS#A+ to the whole team that made this happen#i hope they get some rest now#god i love this kind of thing
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â patience, please, and thank you. tom riddle x reader
summary. you and tom have always sought to best one another in school. it doesnât help that upon graduating, you work for opposing shops.
tags. rivals to ⊠rivals with benefits? lovers? thereâs no real animosity just #flirting so i donât know, SMUTT minors begone, fluff that may be ooc to some but Not Me, reader literally learns archaic latin for this man, poor boy x rich girl trope if you squint, pureblood reader (and mentions of pureblood marriage politics), explicitly f!reader this time sorry!, fem anatomy, fingering, piv, tldr tom riddle would be turned on by the culminated tension of an eight-year-long academic rivalry.
note. i was 5k words into something else (that is probably better) before this came to me and would not go away so. here it is. don't know where all the smut is coming from. head empty
word count. 6.4k
The bell to Borgin and Burkes knells low and hollow in your ear as you enter, and there he is. Prim waistcoat and perfect hair, tucking books away with a wave of his wand. Far too pretty a thing for a dusty place like this, you think, and you smile with your head held high, pretending to take in the inventory as if that's ever been your reason for coming here.
âYou mightn't consider leaving at all," Tom says, regarding you briefly before returning to his books, âif you're going to return this often."
âOh, Riddle, but then what would you do without my company? Talk to the bones?"
âA tempting offer when considering my alternative.â
He leans against the counter to watch you as you make your way down the aisle, fingers jolting as they brush the shelves of dark paraphernalia, preemptively casting a locking jinx on a particularly nasty skeletal hand that grabbed you once last year.
âIs there anything you're looking for?"
âNothing in particular,â you hum as you peruse, âCuriosities of your friendly competitors.â
âFriendly,â he repeats, like heâs tasting a strange flavour.
You smile with just enough polished barb that you hope it bothers him. âMost cordial. And I am nothing if not the dutiful volunteer for the task."Â
It is an objective truth that you are good at many things. Tom is good at all of them and perhaps one more: being pushed significantly and never showing symptoms of breaking. You'd like to be the one to change that.
âI presume you intend to leave with something?" There's a challenge in his voice, clear as day, as he stands straighter, but â not bothered. Not bothered, just intrigued. His hands fold behind his back and his chin comes up, daring you to say a single snarky thing that isn't true â that you're here to taunt him. Not to buy a thing, and not to enjoy his company.
It was such a boring day before this. If he only knew, he might have a tad more sympathy.
âBreathe, Riddle â if you can through all the dust in here â I've plenty of money to spare; thereâs no need to fret about me leaving empty-handed." You select a book at random to prove your point, waltzing closer to hand Tom four sickles from your coin purse.
You're pleasantly surprised to see him actually smile, the corners of his mouth stretching with only the slightest degree of mirth. He reaches out and takes the coins, setting both upon the counter before turning up his nose at the book in your hands. âIt must be an enthralling read to capture your attention."
You smooth the cover over with manicured hands and shrug at the indecipherable title. âWell, Iâm remiss not to have a clue. I believe it's in Latin."
He runs his hand along the book, thumbing the pages with a raised brow. âItâs a history text. Ancient Roman institutes of magic.â His gaze returns to you. âWill that be all?â
You roll your eyes. He would know a dead language â it's such a remarkably Riddle thing to do â probably just for the sake of knowing it.Â
âYes, if that's satisfactory enough that I may be permitted to walk the premises without causing offence."
âOf course. Though I do expect a review of it soon," he adds, âto know whether my time hasn't been entirely wasted."
âA review?" You laugh. âAnd I suppose you ask that of all your customers? Mind the matter of it being in a language I don't know; it would take me a few months for a crude translation at best."
âOnly my best customers," he says with a small shrug, as if that isn't a completely arbitrary standard he's just pulled out of nowhere. âIn that case, you've the better part of a year to read it," he adds, and the smile on his face is less thin, less restrained, more cocky.
You raise a brow, scanning over the words on the first page as if hoping something will stick out. It's all gibberish. âI'm being timed now, am I? I don't recall accepting the task."
"Do you not?"
You scoff. "Of course I do."
âOr perhaps I could translate for you?" he suggests, âIt's really no bother for me."
You should be offended â he's eternally eager to see you fail â but your stomach flips at the premise of a challenge you haven't felt since you were in school together, and most importantly, you never fail. âGive me a date, Riddle.â
âI think by Christmas would be fair. Does that give you enough time, or shall I set it a bit later?"
âChristmas," you agree, shaking his hand with all professionalism you can muster (this is, after all, a very professional exchange), turning away, and smiling to yourself as the shop bell tolls again.
Itâs only weeks before Christmas when it occurs to you that this isnât even for anything. Thereâs no prize should you win, no one else is aware of it, itâs a great waste of time when what began as a passable weekend hobby has now drowned you in English-Latin dictionaries and histories of Ancient Rome. The shop surpasses last yearâs sales and youâre dozing off into your motherâs pastry dish during the family celebration. Even your father telling a rather pitiful tale of his Polyjuiced visit to Borgin and Burkes canât keep your attention when he drones on about how easily he fooled Mr Borgin into remembering the details of some spat twenty years ago. Your brain is in a half-scattered language. It tugs you to what might be the most depressing December 25th of your life if youâre forced to give Tom the gift of your failure.
So you double-down. Your social life is nonexistent. Youâre three quarters through the textbook and dreaming about duelling Tom under the Arch of Constantine, and he wins, and he wins, and he wins each time. It only propels you more. Youâre downing Invigoration Draughts like a drunkard with a cradle of firewhisky.Â
And you do it.Â
You finish the damn book, you think you might have actually fucking learned Latin with how deep the words have rooted in your skull, and you win.
You win, in your prettiest dinner dress, snow clinging to your hair, wrapped in a brand new coat as the shop bell tolls and you step inside.
Youâre grateful you donât say as much (which you were planning on doing â planning on slamming the door shut behind you and carolling your bloody success) because itâs Mr Burke at the counter this Christmas evening, not Tom.
â...Miss?â He regards you with perplexity behind the counter.
You blink, recollecting yourself and stepping forward to shake his hand. âMr Burke. My family wished to extend their best wishes for the new year.â
âQuite a gesture," comes a familiar voice from behind you as Tom steps out from the staircase, dressed in a dark suit and overcoat, like heâs just been out. Heâs smiling. He looks disgustingly well.
You glance between the two men, and Burke bows curtly as if made aware of something heâd previously been warned of. âTo yours as well, miss.â And then heâs off to assist the only other customer, an elderly woman in fur-lined green with so many glittering pins in her hair she resembles a Christmas tree.
âRiddle,â you say, facing him, unable to hide the triumphant grin that digs into your cheeks. You hand him the book, and atop it, your three pages of articulate, edited review.
âYou made it. You read it," he acknowledges, though you doubt heâs surprised, and then nods to the stairs. âCome.â
You follow him up the narrow spiral into a short corridor, taking one look back at the old woman, now clasping a shrieking bauble you gladly turn away from. The door Tom opens is unlocked, presumably where heâd just come from, and â you feel a bit overwhelmed if youâre correct, but you have no idea what else it could be â presumably his flat.
When you enter, the door shuts behind you with an empty click of the latch. The room before you is rather sparse, a kitchenette in one corner, a cramped study in the other, with books upon books and scrolls stacked high on shelves along the dark walls. There's only the barest of seating, two armchairs beneath a dim desk lamp, a small table beside the fireplace, and⊠a bed, of all things, separated only by a thin divider and the courtesy of enough distance not to immediately draw the eye. You, of course, can't quite help it, gaze lingering on the tidy sheets and back to him.
It isnât a thought you do well to dwell on. Too many directions for your imagination to roam.
âWell then," you say, hanging your coat at the door and trying not to display any overt anticipation as the parchment rustles in his hand, âShall I just sit and await your evaluation?"
He raises a brow. âI was going to ask if youâd like tea. Do sit, though.â
Oh. Yes, right, youâre rushing things. Hospitality. Decorum. Consideration. You suppose Tom Riddle would extend those things for the sake of posterity if nothing else. âSomething black, if you have any, please.â
The water comes to a boil quickly under the steady heat of his magic, and youâre sinking into a shockingly comfortable armchair taking in every shape and blemish of the room while youâre in it. You donât have to guess that he doesnât have many guests.
âDarjeeling,â Tom says as he offers you a steaming cup, âif thatâs satisfactory.â
You resist a scowl at his mocking tone, placing the tea on a glass coaster and glancing purposefully at your work (your magnum opus, really) once more. âPerfectly.â
Tom notes your look with a smile, settling into the seat opposite yours.Â
You take a sip of tea and lean back. âDo go on.â
âEager,â he mutters, but begins.
He skims over the opening line before flipping the book open as if to be sure you havenât made it all up, and then you think you probably could have made it all up if you wanted. Read one of the hundreds of magical histories of Rome that certainly existed â probably in your own shop, at that â and gathered much the same conclusion. But you did not. Tom must know you did not.Â
The silence is thick as he reads, waned only by the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional turn of a page. His brows furrow the way you always remember catching in school, like he's concentrating on a particularly hard puzzle, and you have to busy yourself with a nearly empty cup of tea to pretend not to notice the way his beauty is something almost delicate. Framed by firelight and the indigo gloss of the night shining in through the window, you imagine his hair mussed, his long eyelashes speckled with snow, his cheeks pink from the cold. You wonder about him in a nicer suit than this. You could buy him one, if you liked.
And then, at last, he looks up over the parchment, expression carefully measured. âI'm impressed.â
You put your cup down and you canât help it. You're smiling. You're proud. His approval is like bottling the tail of a rainbow (which youâve been told is possible), and it's a feeling thatâs been absent from you for so long, it's never come from him â Merlin, you've always wanted it to come from him, havenât you?
âYouâre impressed?â you ask, as you love nothing more than to push. âIs that all?â
He loves nothing more than to keep his face impassive, but thereâs a twitch there. Something youâre aware you can only spot because of how much attention you pay him.Â
âI enjoyed your perspective on the Romansâ utilisation of firedrakes. It was well-thought.â
âWell-thought?â
âQuite good, yes.â
âGood," you say, grinning in the bulk of your triumph, âI suppose that means I win."
Win. Youâre not winning anything but the implication that Tom is somehow losing. Still he does not break, and you think at seventeen he would have. At nearly twenty his smile just grows. âHave you ever done anything less?â
Is he pushing too? That could be fun.
âOh, first year tribulations. Nothing since â you wouldnât remember.â
âHm, I do recall an unfortunate lesson with a matagot in Beasts, and that must have been, whatââ He tilts his head as though to ponder itâ âfourth year?â
You narrow your eyes. âPaid an ever-close watch on me, did you, Riddle?â
âAs close as anyone else.â
âAnd by that you mean to sayâ?â
âOnly that itâs a most fascinating custom, the matter of pureblood marriage. It was hard to avoid your name in a common room full of your particular politics.â
âAh,â you hum, summoning the teapot from the kitchenette to pour another cup, âso my potential marital affairs are what drew your attention. And here I was thinking it was because I was the only person who could ever best you.â
He stops your tea mid-motion, and you still as he sends both the pot and the cup to the table beside you. âCan it not have begun as one and have become the other?â
âWell, your curiosity knows no end; I should be flattered by such multifaceted interest.â
âSo you wonât mind my inquiring.â
âWhatever you wish, Riddle.â
âUpon the current status of your betrothal.â
You blink, and then laugh. âThere is no betrothal. At present.â
âAt present. Is it subject to change?â
âThereâs always talk,â you offer, and it offers impressively little.
âElaborate...â
âI donât know that youâre in any position to be making demands,â you gibe, âconsidering I paid four sickles to prove you wrong and I havenât anything to show for it but my pride.â
He smiles. âNot enough to sate your desire to make me grovel, it seems.â
âYou? Grovel?â You gasp, fingers circling your knee idly. âWhat a fascinating concept⊠Wait now, Iâm trying to paint the picture.â
âIs that not what you came for?â he asks, and itâs odd to see him amused by the idea. You push and push and he just continues to take. âTo prove me wrong? To puncture my pride?â
You shrug innocently, even though youâd just said as much. âIâm here to wish you a Merry Christmas.â
He laughs, a warm, quiet laugh â more of a breath than anything â but true if you can read him at all, and thatâs a bit alarming. âOf course. Near nine months of exhaustive translation all to bid me a nice holiday. It sounds almost like grovelling, doesnât it? Wait, now, Iâm trying to paint the picture.â
You bite back your smile. Damn him. Heâs never been funny before. Thatâs a problematic development.
âFine.â Your legs are already crossed and now youâre crossing your arms too, and you look very reserved compared to his relaxed stature. âA match would, of course, need to be of good title.â
âOf course,â Tom says, without even an attempt at masking his amusement.
âAnd he would need to be rich.â
âNaturally.â
âIt would help to be from one of the Sacred Houses.â
âI should not expect anything less.â
âAnd I suppose age is a factor,â you go on. You push, and push, and push. Tom is impervious. He takes.
âWhat age would do well?â
âNear enough to my own. For health, of course.â
âFor health,â he agrees delightedly.
What the hell are you talking about?
âIt would be preferable that he be handsome.â
âAnd of his character?â
âMost agreeable.â
âDocile?â
âHm, docile, yes.â
âIt is a long list.â
âIâve been told Iâm a difficult woman to sate. Far too prideful, apparently.â
Your fingers are drawing figure-eights on your thigh now, and Tomâs eyes flash briefly to the motion. You stop as though caught, and you arenât sure why.
âA defamatory accusation,â he says quietly.
You wonder if his voice has always had that tinge to it: the gravel underlining his polish like the crack of the fire, and â that must be why itâs so warm in here, too. It has been that way since you arrived, hasnât it? Such polarising temperatures between your walk in the snow to this, you must have only just adjusted⊠an hour after arriving. Itâs completely logical.
âSo there are talks,â you repeat, if only because youâve blanked on all else.
âWell,â he says, eyes boring into yours in a way that makes you feel transparent, âI wish you all the best. If it at all helps, you can now add a moderate understanding of Latin to your list of virtues.â
You drape an arm across your chair to match his easy posture. (And how is it he manages to look regal and informal at the same time?) âMy list of virtues? Elaborate.â
He shakes his head with a small smile and you point an accusatory finger at him. âAh, ah, Riddle â I won, remember? And I indulged your inquiring regardless.â
His eyes narrow. âYou do want me to grovel.â
âItâs Christmas.â
âI donât believe thatâs the purpose of the day.â
âAnd that matters to you?â
He leans forward, looking over you as if your supposed virtues will reveal themselves upon scrutiny. Itâs a bit offensive, really. Youâd hope he could find more than enough with one glance.
He settles, after a long moment where you feel almost bare, on, âYour pride is agonising.â
Itâs â not exactly what you were hoping for. Not quite grovelling, by any definition, but then, what did you expect from him?
âExcuse me?â
âYour stockings are ripped at the calf.â
âRiddleââ
âYour lipstick may have stained my teacup. It is a shade Iâm rather fond of, but I do not wish to see a trace of it left behind.â
âQuite good,â you say through gritted teeth.
âAnd I should not be agonised â incautious and unfettered at a sliver of skin or the gesture of your mouth ââ You realise with horror that heâs speaking through something constrained too â âand yet I am.â
Itâs â is that a confession? Have you broken him? Have you won again? Your stomach flips and it doesnât feel at all like winning. He certainly doesnât look like a man whoâs lost. In fact, heâs watching you intently, and at your lack of response, the constraint forming a taut line on his lips seems to slip back into something deliberate. Curious.
You recover to the best of your ability. âIt is a short list.â
âShall I go on?â he asks, and itâs an answer, too: no, you have most definitely not broken him. He looks a bit like heâs found a neat pathway to breaking you instead.
âIâd hate to debase you further.â
He leans in, and he might be about to stand, and that might be an irreversible thing to do. âAre you sure? I canât imagine youâve painted the picture yet.â
Oh, youâve painted the picture. Youâve painted a gallery.
âI find the image regrettable half-done. No point finishing it now.â
You do not.
âAnd besides,â you add, âI know my virtues.â
He smiles, and heâs half orange in the firelight and half blue in the night, green somewhere in the middle, and he should be condemned for being this beautiful. âElaborate.â
You shouldnât. âIâm intelligent.â
âMhm.â
âIâm a quick learner.â
âSo Iâve seen,â he agrees, still leaning in.
âIâm good at my job.â
And then he stands.
It is an irreversible thing. Your heart lurches like it knows heâs going to do something that cannot be undone. Your heart lurches because it is a thing youâve anticipated, quietly, on late nights in scrolls of Latin so you might be able to pretend to mistranslate them â you know, in your first tongue and any other, that you do not want it to be undone.
âAnything else?â he asks. You arenât sure if youâre resentful of the proximity of his seat to yours or grateful for it, because it takes no time at all for him to be standing before you.
âIâm well-mannered,â you say, and it comes out quieter than you mean for it to. âLettered in etiquette.â
âEtiquette," he repeats slowly, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, and you don't quite know how he manages an intonation like that, but there it is, dripping with so much contempt youâre surprised he doesnât fall over.
It wouldnât be terrible if he did. Heâd land right on top of you and put this little game to rest.
Instead he reaches a hand to your cheek â your hair â and brushes it like itâs an absolutely standard thing to do. He pulls away just the same. As if his hand is familiar with the shape of your face because itâs been there before. You'd definitely remember if it had.
âOf course,â you breathe, âpatience and pleases and thank yous.â
âIn all your manners, you might provide an example.â
Fine. If heâs going to be difficult. âIâd say Iâm displaying great patience right now.â
âHm.â His hands find yours where they sit on either arm of your chair, and his figure is blocking all light now. It shines on his shoulders, casts him like an aura. âThatâs one.â
You look at his lips, and donât bother to look away. You incline forward as much as you can when youâre caged in like this, until his breath is on yours and you can smell his cologne.
âPlease,â you say, and for the challenge in it you donât feel too humbled.
He is most obliging.
His lips just barely brush yours at first, and you did say you were patient â so you wait. The feather-light touch of them stills before it deepens, his hands pressing down on yours. Your open mouth. His tongue. You're kissing him, breathlessly and frantically and completely, and it is all you want.
Tom pulls back and you instinctively push forward. You will your eyes to open and heâs still right there â he hasnât gone anywhere (what a deranged concern that is) â lips an inch from yours, and heâs smiling.
âThatâs two.â
Oh. Oh, heâs an aberration in human variance. Thereâs something incredibly wrong with him.
There isnât a way of turning gratitude into a challenge, you think. It doesnât ask for anything. It appreciates. In this case it would more closely resemble worship. Thank you for your kiss, Riddle, Iâd be nothing without it.
So you search to find a way around it that still gets you what you want.
âIâll need a bit more than a lousy kiss if you want to see me grovel, Riddle." Your voice is a bit rough. You donât know that your confidence lands the way it typically does.
But you came here to â what was it â puncture his pride? Push him until he breaks? Youâve already made it halfway, and you are, after all, very good at it.
And you suppose he wants to earn the third, because he scowls and then heâs kissing you again and this time his hands are on your face, and perhaps they are somehow familiar with the shape because they fit around you in some inexplicably whole way, like they were made for it. With your hands free, youâre carding your fingers through his hair, hoping for that vision of him you imagined earlier, with thick, messy waves and flushed cheeks.
Tom brings a hand to your waist and tugs you in, and youâre partly pulled from the chair by his insistence and overwhelmingly pushing to get out of it yourself, lips never leaving his as you stumble past the meagre divider to his bed.
The backs of your thighs hit the footboard and your knees buckle, gasping away from Tomâs mouth as you reach for the bedpost. His breath is heavy as his hand curves to the small of your back to keep you steady, your dress bunched in his fist, and thereâs a heat in him pressed against you, like a match being held to kindling. And in the flash of fire when it finally strikes, everything in his eyes is clear, singularly focused, and he's pushing you to your back, splayed across his tidy sheets as he kisses you with bruising ferocity.
There's an urgency now to his movements that wasn't there before, and it's a stark contrast to his usual calculated demeanour, but that feels like winning. That feels like breaking Tom Riddle, whittling years of practised constraint to⊠this. That draws the third: makes you nice and grateful like he asked, because no part of you wants his careful fortitude here. You want to ruin him.
He appears to want the very same from you, which wrecks the whole thing.
Your legs move to wrap around him and he stops you, one hand pinning you by the hip and then down, past where you think heâll go, as he finds the hem of your dress and lifts it from your calf to your knee. He draws circles over the thinly-clothed skin and you can do nothing but lie there, panting a little, staring at him with less patience than youâd proclaimed to have. And then his fingers move upwards, and theyâre drawing figure-eights, and you understand that if this isnât a taunt, nothing is. He copies your earlier motions. He does not kiss you. His fingers trail higher and higher and theyâre soft like the shadows framing his face.
Finally he finds the waistband of your stockings and begins to tug them down your hips, stopping when he reaches that sliver of skin revealed by a tear in the fabric, taking your leg and hiking it up so he can look closely. He smiles, finger sliding down the tear in such a precise, meticulous fashion you canât help but think heâs doing it on purpose. The moment does not linger when he pulls away, shuffling your stockings down the rest of the way so your legs are unclad before him, your heels already kicked off somewhere across the floor.
He watches your sharp exhale when he ducks down to kiss the skin of your thigh. A shiver runs through you at his softness, another when you see his face, see his eyes go dark with want of you.
His constraint is back, and itâs fucking detrimental. The only silver lining you can find in it, and you hope to be correct (havenât you been so far?), is that maybe that means Tom Riddle can be broken in litany. Maybe he amends his ruination now but you can carve it out of him again later.
âCome here,â you say, your voice ragged.
Tom frowns, one hand pursuing a dangerous path up the inside of your thigh. âAnd here I was under the impression you wanted me to grovel.â
âOh,â you huff, âis that what this is? Not some feeble attempt at winning after I ââ
You grip his hair as his fingers curl under the lace of your underwear, as he smiles at the dampness there, the way your argument dissipates beneath his touch. âWinning?â he derides, breathy to match your tone in a way that feels cruel rather than considerate. You nod even as your breathing accelerates and he lifts the skirt of your dress to rest over your thighs, his eyes darting between your legs and your own heavy gaze as if he can't decide which is more intriguing. And then he slides a finger across your heat and you think heâs made his choice. "Is that what you think I want?"
You blink, feeling a bit lost. "What else is there?"
âWill you thank me after this?â
Right. That. You swallow, head falling back on his pillow. âDoubtful.â
âHm,â he mumbles, some kind of consideration that can only be answered by the movement of his fingers against you, slow as they seek to learn you.
You arrest the moan that rises in your throat, teeth clenching together as Tom climbs over you once more, his body keeping you in place to watch the sustained details of your expression as one of his fingers dips inside you. You hiss, and his gaze burns into you, his mouth parted with a degree of awe and you think perhaps this is the picture he painted â you, under him, eyebrows pinched together as your hands scramble for purchase on his chest, fighting to remain intact.
But then his thumb brushes up against your clit and you let out a sound â half a moan, half a mewl. Tom doesn't give you a second to recover as his lips come down on yours again, hard, desperate, like he's trying to inhale you. And you let him, you take the little bit of ruin he surrenders in the great expanse of yours.
Even if you could quiet your noises you stand to think Tom would feel them, taste them, bite down on them like he does your lower lip, a second finger coiling into you. Your hand smacks at his wrist, clutching his arm with such intensity you can feel every sinew of his movement as he works away at you. Your legs are trembling, pressing around his waist an act of simultaneous resistance and desperation as you push upwards for friction and conquest.
You find both. Undeniable hunger â how he groans softly against your open mouth, how the imprint against your thigh is hard under his trousers, how he wants you.
His ministrations only intensify when your hand searches for the buckle of his belt, gripping your jaw like he needs to watch you fall apart before you can find parity in your desperation. It isnât an impossible wish; your mind is hazy at the push and pull of his fingers, curving where his thumb draws ceaselessly on the other side, and you think, as much as youâre able right now, that he could succeed. But you force your eyes open to the space where your hand is wedged between your bodies, yanking hastily at his belt and sighing into his shoulder as it unfastens.
His trousers are unbuttoned, unzipped, and youâre arching into him with laboured pants even when your hand slips past them to find skin you've never travelled before.
Tomâs motions stagger when your fingers brush experimentally over his length, and you suddenly understand his ardent focus. You canât help but stare at the way his jaw ticks, a hiss parting through gritted teeth, and the fact that youâre doing this to him is almost enough to push you over the edge. You grip him in one hand, and his fingers move again like some act of defiance, tightening his hold on your jaw. And then youâre pumping slowly, carefully, the only way you think to with the intention of pleasing him. Of weakening him.
He turns your head so youâre gasping into the pillow, neck exposed for him to press his mouth to. His teeth and tongue are on you and your hand slips from him for a moment as you shudder. Fuck him. This isnât enough. You won't lose like this.
You tug at his waistcoat now, snapping open the buttons until the last few are clinging on by cheap threads. Youâll buy him that suit, you think. One that you can shrug off as fervently as you like without worrying about tearing the seams.
Your removal of his shirt is not aided by the swelling fire inside you, how the attention of his fingers has remained steady through your squirming and it feels like itâs culminating to something fatal. Your fingers grow shakier but don't stop their pursuit until every button is undone and you can soothe their trembling by pressing your palms against the warm expanse of his chest.
And then theyâre back in his trousers, pushing them down his thighs as he continues to chip away at you. You bite back moans and blink through your dizziness.
Tom stops, and it might be more devastating than if he hadnât. Your body is taut, a fine, thrumming wire spared a moment before snapping.
âMore,â is all you say, tracing the shape of him through his briefs.
âMore?â he asks. Thereâs a small mercy in the rasp within in his voice, the uncertainty despite himself. âI suppose that means I win.â
âWin?âÂ
His gall almost, almost pulls you back to reality. But heâs â heâs pulling his trousers further down and your body, like some separate entity to your mind, is flush against him when heâs finally free of all obstructions.Â
âMhm,â he hums, and almost-reality dwindles away into fucking nothing â disappears before your eyes when he brings his finger to his tongue and tastes you.
You tear him back to your mouth with a sound that so desperate your humility shouldnât be able to take it but that's all gone now. His lips are wet and swollen and youâre adjusting yourself so his hips are lined with yours, and your head rolls back when he positions himself against your core and stays there.
âI win,â you breathe. âEverything else is justââ
He moves, hands on your waist as he presses ever-so-slightly inside you. You clutch wildly at his arms, your eyes wrenching shut.
âLook at me,â he says softly. His thumb caresses your cheek as if any act of his acts of tenderness are at all actually tender and not depraved requests for your resignation.Â
You shake your head. âItâs ju-justââ
He sinks further, unhurried, and you feel like crying, your body clenching around him as the pressure deepens.
âJust what?â he asks, peppering kisses along your jaw.
âJust⊠um, justâŠâ
âHm?â
âI win... sâjust⊠cheatingâŠâ
You feel him smiling against your neck, and then he detaches his lips to observe you, nodding with false sympathy. âYou win.â
And he shifts himself forward so heâs pushed to the hilt.Â
Itâs a lie. Itâs a lie as Tom holds you against him, carving kisses into your skin that burn, as you shudder a moan into the thick, hot air, as he begins to move rhythmically inside you, your fingers digging crescent moons into his spine and dragging.
You don't win.
If you are steel honed over years, itâs this moment that you melt, and you think if you were to be fused again it would be in a different shape.
And you mean that. You honestly feel liquified when he splits you slow like this, rolling his hips as you cling to him for strength like he isnât the thing shattering you.Â
You rock to meet him, you bury your nails in his back, you rest your moans with your teeth in his shoulder â whatever you can think to make this fair. Make true to your word. You are going to break, it's true, but you are going to break Tom Riddle too.
âFingers,â you mutter, far too much of a demand for the way it almost stumbles into a sob, but Tom makes a strained sound in the back of his throat as if it gratifies him that you want it enough to ask.
âThank me,â he answers on a harsh exhale.
You bite at his collar, shaking your head, but your legs are starting to shake and you wouldnât ask if it was something you wanted â you mask it as an order because you need it. Because you imagine what heâs doing now combined with his thumb on your clit and itâs enough to make your abdomen clench just thinking about it.
Instead one of your hands forsakes the sweet curve of his muscles every time he thrusts into you so that it can snake between your own legs, and you mimic his earlier ministrations just long enough to drive a moan from your lips before Tomâs eyes dart from your lips, the rise and fall of your chest, to the hand missing from his back.
He grabs it with a scowl, pinning one wrist and then the other above your head.
âStubborn,â he hisses, and he buries himself inside you like it's something personal, persistent in his strokes when his fingers finally rub over you how you wanted.
And you know youâve done it when his head falls on your shoulder and you feel yourself tighten around him. His grip on your wrists is punishing. His mouth on your shoulder is stringent. Heâs hard and full inside you and his fingers slide against you in delicate, torturous contrast. You know because it all stutters a bit when you pull him into a kiss, when you know youâre about to plummet into oblivion and heâs gripping you through it like you might steady him â like you arenât the thing shattering him.
When you do, itâs something visceral. You think you might be spinning, or floating â screaming, maybe â spilling ill-mannered expletives in strings with his name because your hands are still trapped under his and your body can do nothing else. What you know, undoubtedly, is that youâre coming down from it for a long time, in a haze when you manage to breathe the words into his ear. âThank you.â
Tom breaks. Itâs the most beautiful you think heâs ever looked; eyebrows cinched and pink mouth parted, hair mussed like you wanted, neck tense as he stills inside you and you feel every part of him let go.
Your legs are too weak to cling to him through it, and you just pant under him, blinking languidly and in awe.
You stay like that for a long time.
He leans in when he finally pulls out of you, kissing you like one form of contact must be replaced with another. It's the same with his hands. He sinks into the space beside you and releases your wrists just to cup your face instead.
Yours come up instantly and shamelessly to his hair, craving nothing more than to curl your fingers through the dark mess of it. You trace the sharp shape of his cheeks, too, like his did to yours, like you need to memorize the lines of his expression and the heat of his skin before the world outside seeps in and it all goes cold.
But you pull away and you can't imagine it will.
Thereâs something in his eyes that feels new. Longing like heâs shed all pretence of acting like nine years of treading the lines of this rivalry has ever been anything but a pathetic display, like he knows you've shed it too. It makes you catch your breath to think this is what it feels like to be desired by Tom Riddle; that you desire him all the same; all this time.
âYou know,â you say, and your voice sticks dry to your mouth, âI still win.â
He shakes his head. He smiles. You want terribly to kiss him again.
âIâll just have to find something else to best you in, wonât I?â
You pretend like youâre considering it and not just staring at him.Â
âI think by Christmas would be fair.â
#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x y/n#tom riddle smut#tom marvolo riddle#voldemort#voldemort x reader#tom riddle imagine#tom riddle oneshot#harry potter fanfiction#wizarding world
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No, I am not done with Western Energy yet, and I am not sorry
I. Just. Can't. With those parallels.
Just look at that! I am sure bunch of people already pointed that, but Hell knows it makes me think a lot about this shift.
Murder Family
[BlitzĂž]: Stolas, this is really a bad time!
[Stolas]: Mm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?
Stolas *knows* BlitzĂž is in danger. There could've been a room for speculation, if it wasn't for the next exchange:
[BlitzĂž]: What is it?!
[Stolas]: I've been meaning to follow-up on our last little conversation regarding my grimoire.
[BlitzĂž]: What did you just call me?!
[Stolas]: My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job. That I've allowed you to use to do yours.
*gunshot*
[BlitzĂž]: Shit!
[Stolas]: Anyhoo, I have been thinking... You know I've been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for some time now? But I do need it back to fulfill my duties. I was thinking; what if we worked out some kind of an exchange? Favors for favors... Doesn't that sound...
*gunshot*
[Stolas]: ...enticing?
[BlitzĂž]: You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I am trying to concentrate to not getting FUCKED IN MY A *gunshot*
I will omit the rest, as it won't add much to the point (if you've seen the show, you know the conversation doesn't stop here), but you can draw some conclusions from the dynamic:
Stolas sees BlitzĂž in projection. Gunshots do not give any chance for the wrong interpretation. He knows imp is getting chased.
Stolas takes his time to get to the point, speaks slowly, as if playing with BlitzĂž, with his life even, and he enjoys that. He knows BlitzĂž can't turn him down as imp is on a hook.
BlitzĂž is clear that he would like to pass on the call for the better time, but Stolas keeps him on the line. BlitzĂž is clear that Stolas needs to get to the point because he is about to get killed, and Stolas, although does that, is still slow in speech, playful, and demeaning towards him.
Overall, Stolas does not care about BlitzĂž being safe at the beginning of the series. You can also get from that convo that he crosses boundaries without guilt, and if he was able to jeopardise life of his potential lover, it's not surprise at all that he is demeaning, creepy with overly sexual talks at inappropriate times, and does not take BlitzĂž's offence as something to care about (I don't think BlitzĂž was called by his name properly at least once in the 1st season, but I have to check), as shown in later episodes. Stolas is abusing power and knows he will get away with it, because BlitzĂž has nowhere to go and has to put with it.
Western Energy
[BlitzĂž]: It's really not a good time, buddy...
[Stolas]: I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy, but, um...
[Stolas]: I seem to have found myself in a bit of a sitch.
You see the parallel, right? Right?!
I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy.
The first time we heard that, he wasn't sorry. He was dismissive.
Mm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?
And the situation... Stolas is literally getting kidnapped, and finds time to ask an apology for calling at wrong time. *Again*.
Let's look at another piece of conversation:
[Moxxie]: That's Striker, sir!
[BlitzĂž]: Oh, for fuck's sake! Can't you just get away? Aren't you powerful?
[Stolas]: I believe he has me bound with blessed rope, which limits my ability to free myself I'm afraid. So I think you should come save me.
[BlitzĂž]: Oh, shit, Stolas, I can't today, alright? I'm sorry. I-I'm literally on my way to take Loona in for her very important Hellbies S.H.O.T. It takes years to book an appointment at that place, it took me five to get this one... and she's doing a lot of field work, so you know, she needs it...
[Stolas]: Oh, ha-ha, well, I do agree that is very important... but I-
We know the rest. The phone is taken away by Striker, and the conversation is interruped. We also know that Stolas gets a sudden realisation that he is in danger, which gives a hint that before he didn't recognise the situation quite as serious.
You see the shift that happened?
Stolas apologises for taking BlitzĂž's time, despite being in imminent danger. He went from total dismissive to total apologetic and even evasive.
Stolas takes into account BlitzĂž's reasons, and admits their importance.
This time BlitzĂž is the one who talks more, but he is on point the whole time and generally sounds uneasy, understanding that this time this is, despite being the bad time, very important. As we know, after the conversation he rushes in, before agreeing with Moxxie and Millie for them to go instead.
And why is so?
I find it very interesting that the similar phrase was used in so different contexts. In the comparison, the power dynamic simply has flipped.
Stolas was the one who needed attention, and BlitzĂž was the one who was asked for help.
The first time around, Stolas needed attention as well, but his matter was so diminutive and BlitzĂž's problems at the moment were so serious, it was simply disrecpectful, to say the least.
The second time, his request is to literally save his life, and he apologises, puts BlitzĂž's interest higher than his. He now feels like he is a burden, a nuisance in BlitzĂž's life, not wanting to disturb him at all. The connection that holds them became so fragile, because Stolas realises he has nothing to offer besides power, and from that sole conversation it becomes clear that he now avoids using it against imp even on the verge of being hurt.
Stolas's attitude shifted from dominant to apologetic, he went from assertive to frightened, and, as BlitzĂž's importance in his life grew, so grew Stolas, giving us hope for his redemption, but also showing how insecure he really was all the time.
So much for the regal title and eldritch powers, if you can't hold onto a meaningful relationship with the one you care for.
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why logan isn't getting replaced at imola, a breakdown
(aka a breakdown so my fellow logan girlies (gn) don't break down)
I've seen this getting around, with a little traction and some people panicking a bit so let's discuss.
Joe Saward has not been a reliable source of transfer news for some time. Let's be real. A lot of this is gaining traction because Saward is "a 35 year accredited F1 journalist". And this is true, he has long experience in F1 and is accredited in the paddock. But it has been many, many years since he was accurate about driver market predictions.
You have to be eighteen to get a superlicence (thanks, Max!). Antonelli does not turn 18 until August. For him to be granted a superlicence in time for Imola, the FIA would have to issue an exemption. If Antonelli was carving up F2 it'd be one thing. But he's been far from convincing so far, and it hasn't just all been Prema. He is an F2 rookie - and he looks like it.
James Vowles has already said that Antonelli to Williams next year is not a given, because Williams has its own juniors - of which Logan is one. Now I know James has been in the bad books with plenty of us since the whole chassis debacle in Melbourne but I do believe him on this. He is quite keen to establish that Williams is not a feeder team for Mercedes and that has been the board's position for some time too (remember their angry denunciation when the rumour was that Oscar was going to replace Latifi at Silverstone?).
James Vowles still believes in Logan. Now I know some of you will be claiming this is doubtful, but I do believe it to be true. In the Japan Vowles Verdict he was warm in his praise for Logan's race pace and early stint - to the point his voice literally changed tone while answering the question. He was absolutely effusive in his praise for Logan after the Melbourne debacle. I do genuinely think that James wants to keep him.
Bringing in a driver change mid-season is incredibly disruptive - you don't do it unless you are certain you're getting a better deal out of it. Last year Alpha Tauri brought in Daniel halfway through the year. The main reason for this was because he was a fairly immediate upgrade to de Vries. But even if you're scornful of Daniel's pace, the other reason they wanted him was for his feedback and car development ability, which AT were pretty vocal that they found invaluable. Bringing in an extremely green, unprepared rookie who has barely worked with the team would be a recipe for instability, morale issues, and more broken bits, which is the absolute last thing Williams needs.
Toto Wolff can't offer James Vowles a big enough incentive to take his junior. Let's cut to the chase on this: to insinuate that James would take Antonelli just because Wolff asked is a pretty big insult to James. He's not Wolff's lapdog. They clearly respect one another and have a personal relationship outside of the sport, but that doesn't mean he'll just do whatever Toto wants - he didn't get to be team principal that way. So Toto would need to offer James an incentive. But what can he offer that James actually needs? Williams aren't broke any more, so money isn't going to cut it. And Williams already run the Mercedes engine, so Toto can't convince him with that. What Williams actually needs - the cultural and procedural overhaul that James has begun - Toto cannot help with.
tl;dr keep cool and keep the faith, logan fans. there's still plenty of time left in our ride.
#f1blr#f1#logan sargeant#james vowles#kimi antonelli#williams racing#keep calm and believe in logan#keep calm and believe in james
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the shakespeare exhibit - part 7
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: in which tara accompanies you to a family party
warnings: homophobia/biphobia
word count: 4100+
author's note: longest thing i've ever posted. also, had to look up so many specific quotes for this one...
previous part | next part
"So, how many people did you say will be at this party?â Tara asked, looking out the window as you drove down another dirt road. Ever since the two of you had passed the city and made it off the highway, it had been all cornfields, farms, and forests. Tara knew one thing for sure: she would never live in the countryside of New York, even if you wanted to.
You shrugged behind the wheel, reaching out to lower the music a bit. One of Taraâs more âpop-yâ songs was on, and the bass was loud. âIâm not really sure,â you said, sparing her a glance before refocusing on the road ahead of you. âMy parents know a lot of people, but Iâm sure it wonât be more thanâŠtwo hundred?â
Two hundred people?! Tara thought, her eyes widening. I have to meet two. hundred. people?!
âDonât worry, though,â you continued quickly. âOnly about fifty of that is family; the rest are family friends or work acquaintances, so you wonât have to talk to them if you donât want to.â
Thank fucking god. âAnd can you give me a run down on the more immediate family again?â
âWell, thereâs mom and dad, obviously.â You took a left, not bothering with your blinker because there was no one else around. However, rather than more dirt road, your tires were finally rolling against pavement. âNathaniel and Edmund--but, you canât call him âEdmundâ; you have to say âEddieâ, or heâll get upset.â
âAnd theyâre identical, right?â
Trees were lining the pavement, perfectly spaced apart and shaped, and Tara readied herself to be met with your house. ExceptâŠit never came. You just kept driving and driving, and it seemed like there was no end in sight.
You nodded. âYup--identical. Youâll be able to tell them apart, though. Itâs easy.â You hummed as you thought. âOh, baby Cordelia, of course, but only my father calls her by her full name.â
Your baby sister, Cordelia, or Lia, as she was called by most, was turning a year old that day, which was why you and Tara had made the drive up to your parentsâ house. They were throwing a party for her, and an extravagant one at that.
âAnd then my fatherâs parents: Grandma Jane and Grandpa Thomas. They live in the house with everyone, but odds are you wonât meet them today. They like to spend their time in the wine cellar when we have guests.â You leaned toward her just slightly, like you were about to tell her a secret. âGrandpa Thomas has never been the biggest fan ofâŠpeople. Heâs a book guy, you know?â
Mom, dad, Nate, Eddie, Lia, Jane, Thomas. Tara nodded to herself as she made the mental note, determined not to get anyoneâs name wrong. âOkay, and--â
Finally, your house started to show in the distance, and Taraâs jaw literally dropped. Even from where the two of you were, it was huge, and not just rich-person-huge but old-money-huge.
It was a large, shapely building made of blue brick; two large, white pillars stood near the front entrance and extended all the way up to the roof; windows upon windows were lined in white to match the rest of the house; vines flowed down from the roof, though they were neat and calculated, giving the house an old-vibe rather than a messy one.
Holy. Fucking. Shit, Tara thought as your house--if it could even be called a house--drew closer and closer. She stared in awe as you drove the two of you around the circular driveway, centered around a gorgeous fountain, and to the parking area, which was already overflowing with cars.
Once you parked, you turned to her, glancing down sheepishly. âI know itâs a lot,â you said, your voice soft. âThe house, the party, the meeting everyone.â You inhaled deeply. âIf you feel uncomfortable about anything at any time, just let me know and we can hide in my bedroom, okay? Or, if you need a moment alone, itâs up the stairs, to the right, fourth door on your left.â
Sheâs just too perfect. Tara grinned, that type of grin she only ever had when she was with you, and leaned across the center console, pressing a kiss to your lips. âIâm sure itâll be great, baby.â
You flushed, the way you always did whenever she kissed you, even though she had kissed you a million times at that point; she never tired of the way the red painted your cheeks, or how youâd smile subconsciously.
âOkay.â You nodded and kissed her again for good measure. âThen letâs do this.â
You climbed out of the car, rounded the hood, and opened the door for Tara to step out. Always so chivalrous, she thought, grabbing the present that she had brought for your sister from the floor of your car. It was just a small toy, and she suddenly started to second-guess it as you led her toward the entrance.
As soon as she stepped into the house, marble flooring beneath her feet, she gulped. There were at least a hundred people there already, all having traveled to celebrate your baby sister, and they were scattered around, talking and laughing and drinking champagne. She was glad she had worn her nicest dress for the occasion, but even that didnât seem nice enough.
I do not belong here, her mind whispered.
Before she could even utter a single word to you, all eyes turned, smiles and grins and furrowed eyebrows and tilted heads watching your every move. This is like a creepy cult movie. She glanced at you, somewhat surprised that you were relaxed as you waved.
âHi, everybody!â you said, and there was a chorus of greetings in response.
Then, suddenly, there was pounding coming from upstairs, and two heads peeked over the banister, gleaming grins on each of their faces and identical in every way--except for their hair, Tara noticed quickly; one had his hair sticking out every which way while the otherâs was combed down neatly.
âY/Nâs home!â the messy-haired one shouted. All eyes turned to them, fond smiles on everyoneâs face as they stared up at the boys.
ââA victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers!ââ the other yelled. Okay, well, that oneâs Nate, Tara thought, and she watched as they bounded down opposite stairs, their legs carrying them quickly so they could be the first to truly greet you.
They rammed into your waist, making you stumble back as you held them close. âHi, boys,â you giggled, and everyone--everyone--laughed at the joy that was radiated from the three of you before going back to their conversations.
You hugged your brothers tightly before pushing them away slightly. You took Taraâs hand in your own, and her heart fluttered at the feeling of your warmth against her skin. âNate, Eddie, this is Tar--â
âThe girlfriend!â Eddie cheered.
Nate followed up with, âSheâs beautiful, and therefore to be wooed!â
Does this kid only speak in Shakespeare? Tara wondered. Is that even possible?
âHi, guys,â Tara said, smiling. âNice to meet you.â
âTo mingle friendship far is mingling bloods,â Nate replied.
âWhat this dork means,â Eddie started, elbowing his brother, âis that we canât wait for you to become our sister-in-law!â
Sister-in-law?! She glanced at you, and you cleared your throat, unraveling your hand from hers and placing it on the small of her back. âEddie, Nate, go find Nana and Pops.â You leaned down and whispered something to them, and both boys nodded fervently before rushing away.
âSo, you talk about me to your brothers?â Tara teased, grinning at you.
You rolled your eyes lightly, carefully guiding her further into the house. âDonât listen to a word they say. Theyâre--well, you met them.â A handful? she thought. Yes.
You passed by people, sparing short greetings or simple waves, until you stood with Tara in the kitchen. âAnd donât mind Nateâs speech,â you said, chuckling. âHeâs been in Shakespeare-mode ever since he got that part in the play. He only talks in quotes now, no matter what play theyâre from.â
She hummed. âReminds me of someone I know,â she said, leaning up to kiss you.
Just as you began to lean down, there was an excited squeal, and you pulled back quickly, eyes wide and landing on whoever had interrupted you.
âMom!â you rushed out, blushing. Tara spun around, a nervous smile on her lips as she stared at your mother, who grinned right back.
âYou must be Tara, sweetheart!â your mom said, pulling Tara into a hug. Okay! I guess this is a hugging family! She placed her hands on Taraâs shoulders, looking at her. âYouâre even prettier than Y/N said!â
âHi, maâam--â
Your mother waved her off. âOh, please. Just call me âmomâ.â She grinned, and Tara realized that you had her smile. âIâm sure youâll be in this family soon enough.â Tara felt herself pink at the words. I sure hope so.
âMom!â you groaned from behind.
Your mom hummed. âYes, well, I was just coming to grab another apple for your father. You know him,â she said. âEats like heâs a horse,â she whispered to Tara.
You perked up at the mention of your dad. âOh, Tara! Letâs go see him. Iâm sure he has Lia, right, mom?â
âYes, yes.â She was digging around the fridge. âI was so sure I bought more,â she muttered to herself.
You sidled up beside Tara and took her hand, leading her toward a different area of the house. There were even more people there, standing around one object and cooing. You squeezed past them all, offering âhelloâsâ and ânice to see youâsâ as you did.
âDad!â you exclaimed when your father came into view, Lia in his arms.
âAh, the prodigal daughter returns,â your dad hummed. He wrapped an arm around you in a hug before handing you your sister. âWatch your hair,â he warned. âSheâs in her pulling phase.â
As if on cue, Lia reached up and tugged at your ear, giggling when you groaned. âLia! No pulling,â you mumbled. Tara grinned, butterflies stirring in her stomach at the sight. Talk about baby fever.
âAnd youâre Tara,â your father said, looking at her. He wasnât an intimidating man at all, but Tara had heard how highly you spoke of him, and, needless to say, she was nervous.
Oh boy, she thought. Here we go.
âHello, sir,â she said, sticking her hand out. I hope Iâm not sweating. Please donât be sweating.
He inspected her outstretched arm for a moment before laughing loudly and clapping a hand on her shoulder. âNo handshakes for family, Tara!â He pulled her into a hug, just like your mother had. I have to become a part of this family. Itâs a must. âAnd, gosh, donât call me âsirâ! Thatâs so formal! Just call me âdadâ.â His voice was joyous, excited, and Tara understood immediately where you got your personality from.
âOkay,â she said with a nod. â...DadâŠâ It was weird, feeling the word slip from between her lips, but the man lit up upon hearing it.
âTar, come here,â you called gently. She took a few steps until she was at your side, and grinned down at the baby in your arms. âWanna hold her?â
âOh!â Baby. Canât drop it. That thingâs alive. âSure.â It was a careful handoff as Lia settled into Taraâs arms, smiling up at her. She had the same eyes as you, who had the same eyes as your father, and Tara was immediately smitten. âWell, arenât you just the cutest thing!â
And then, Lia was pulling at the ends of her hair, and Tara thought, Yeah. Maybe I donât want a kid just yet.
âIâll take her off your hands,â your father said, holding his arms out. Tara handed Lia back to him, watching as he stuck his tongue out, to which Lia laughed. âMy little Cordelia,â your father sighed.
âSheâs the favorite child now,â you whispered to Tara. âCome, letâs get something to drink.â
You took her not to the kitchen but to the bar, and Tara marveled the whole way as she caught sight of old paintings, framed poems, antiques that littered the walls. It wasnât crowded in any way; it was all beautiful and exactly how she expected your house to look.
You ordered the two of you champagne, and the bartender didnât say a word as he poured your drinks, handing them to you with a soft smile.
âSo, thatâs everyone. Like I said, my grandparents are probably hiding away in the wine cellar,â you said, taking a sip from your glass. âWhatâd you think?â
Youâre the perfect mixture of your parents, she thought. Everything makes sense now. âTheyâre all lovely.â
You grinned. âIâm glad you like them. I can already tell they love you. Well, I could tell that from the moment I told them about you, but--â
Someone interrupted you.
âY/N.â The voice was masculine, strong, stern, and Tara could sense a bit of pretentious asshole in his tone.
She spun around when you did and watched as your eyes landed on the man; you immediately straightened up, your shoulders tensing and your smiling fading into a tight-lipped greeting. She straightened up, too. I bet heâs a dick, she thought, eyeing him and internally scoffing at his stupid face.
âConnor,â you gritted out like it pained you.
Tara reached to take your hand, knowing that you sought touch in moments of stress, but, just barely, you moved away from her grasp. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. Who is this douche and why is he making her soâŠrigid?
You held your head a little higher and clenched your jaw. âWhy are you here?â
He smiled, though Tara thought it looked more like a snarl. âWell, our parents are friends, so why wouldnât we have been invited to Liaâs birthday party?â
Thatâs it, Tara promptly decided. Iâm going to punch him by the end of the night.
âRight, of course.â You held your champagne glass a little tighter. âAnd how are you finding everything?â
âOh, your parents throw lovely parties. Although, itâs not like Iâm any stranger to them.â He took a sip of his wine and smacked his lips together. âI was surprised to find you here, actually.â
âItâs my baby sisterâs birthday. Why wouldnât I be here?â you asked.
He waved you off. âYour mother mentioned something about you having been busy--working a minimum wage job and whatnot.â The condescending nature of his words made Tara ball her hands into fists. If he doesnât walk away in five seconds, I canât be held responsible for what happens to his perfectly-straight, stupidly-white teeth. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised. âAnd this isâŠ?â
Your worst fucking nightmare, douchebag, Tara thought, but she offered him the smallest of smiles instead, not yet knowing if she was allowed to make an enemy of him.
You startled, like you had just remembered that she was standing beside you, and slid your arm around her waist. Tara watched as Connor clenched his jaw at the action. Yeah, fuck you!
âConnor, this is Tara. My girlfriend.â He scoffed, loudly, and your hold on her tightened, your fingers digging into her hip. âTara, this is Connor. HeâsâŠa family friend.â
He hummed. âIf thatâs what youâd like to call us, then sure, Y/N.â Your name rolled off his tongue too comfortably for Taraâs liking, especially for how stand-offish you became around him. âSo, still in your littleâŠexploratory phase, then?â he asked in such a way that made your grip turn almost bruising and caused Taraâs stomach to turn unpleasantly.
âNo, Connor,â you said. âIâm bisexual. There is no exploring.â
âSure.â He chuckled like he didnât believe you. âPerhaps the men at Blackmore are just less than satisfactory.â
âOkay, why donât you--â Tara began, only to be cut off by you pulling her into you.
âOr perhaps Tara can just satisfy me more than you ever did,â you snapped.
Tara froze. What? Is heâŠdid they date?
Connor furrowed his eyebrows in anger, his eyes turning dark as they set themselves on her. âDoes she even come from money?â There was venom in his voice, the disgust in his expression not bothering to hide itself.
A shiver ran down Taraâs back, and she glanced at the floor, her skin suddenly feeling too small for her, the air seeming too thick to breathe in. From the moment she had stepped into your home, she had felt a little out of place, and now Connor was simply confirming that thought.
âDoes that matter?â you seethed.
âOf course it does. When you come from families like ours, everything matters. I mean, if youâre serious about this wholeâŠbisexualâŠthing, how could you know sheâs not just using you?â His words were coming out fast, spit flying as he spoke, his cheeks flushing with rage. âAt least with me, you knew there were no ill intentions.â
Using her? Tara thought, feeling herself shrink slightly. Ill intentions?
âYou have no idea what youâre talking about, Connor.â Your voice was sharp and threatening, holding a warning behind it.
âI take it, then, that she doesnât come from a family of the arts.â His eyes flickered down before glancing back up again. âOr any family that matters.â
There was a beat of silence, a pause in which Tara could feel anger radiating from you and shame filling her every vein, and it was strange. She pulled herself from your grasp, mumbled out, âI have to use the bathroom,â and rushed away with teary eyes. Away from him, away from the party, away from you.
Faintly, she could hear you calling her name, and then a few angry shouts, but she wasnât paying attention. She was focused on squeezing past people and slipping upstairs to your bedroom, her hand fumbling around in her purse for her inhaler.
Fuck, where is my inhaler? she thought as she tripped up the last step and stumbled down the hall, counting one, two, three, doors on her left until she found the fourthâyour bedroom. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, rummaging through her purse in a panic as she tried to blink back her tears.
When she finally caught hold of her inhaler, she took two puffs and threw her head back, groaning. Stupid. Thinking I could fit in here. Thinking this was all normal. Stupid.
There was a knock on the other side of the door; then, a voice, soft and careful. âTara?â She could hear some shuffling out in the hall. âTara, dear?â
Tara straightened. Is that her mom? she wondered. What is her mom doing here right now?
âCould you let me in, Tara?â
Tara wiped beneath her eyes and, with a heaving sigh, turned around and opened the door, her shoulders slumping slightly at the sight of your motherâs worried face.
âI saw you run off, dear,â your mom started, taking a hesitant step forward, âand Y/N was nowhere in sight, so I thought Iâd come check on you.â
This whole family is just too good. âIâm alright,â she lied through her teeth.
Your mother hummed and ventured further into the room, sitting on the edge of your bed with her legs crossed over one another. âI saw you and Y/N speaking to Connor Harris.â Her face soured as she spoke his name, and Tara smiled softly at that. âIâve never liked that boy, but Y/Nâs father and his father have been friends since childhood.â
Tara swallowed. I need to know. I need to ask. âWere Y/N and ConnorâŠwere they together at some point?â she asked.
Your momâs eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulled at her lips. âDear, they were engaged. Has she not told you?â
It was like the world stopped for a moment. Engaged? Tara wanted to throw up. Her vision blurred immediately; a pit in her stomach formed; she could feel herself shaking. Engaged?! She was engaged?! To him?!
Your mother stood and, before Tara could say a word, wrapped her arms around her, holding her trembling body close. âTara, honey. It is just a part of Y/Nâs past, but sheâs with you now, and thatâs what matters.â
Oh my god, Iâm being comforted by her mom right now, Tara thought. This is so embarrassing. She pulled away and sniffled, holding her head up. âThank you, truly. Iâm justâŠshocked that she never mentioned an engagement before.â How did she never tell me?
âYes, well--â
âTar?â your voice called from near the door. âYou in here, bab--â You appeared in the doorway, stopping short at the sight of your mother and Tara in your bedroom together, with clear signs of Tara having cried. âBaby, whatâs wrong?â
âIâll leave you two alone,â your mom said, squeezing your shoulder briefly as she exited.
You walked into the room, shut the door behind you, and stepped up to Tara, taking her cheeks in your hand. Your thumb rubbed beneath her eyes, wiping away any remnants of her tears. âWhatâs going on, sweetheart?â you asked, your voice gentle.
She clenched her jaw, her eyes flitting to the floor. âYour mom told me aboutâŠabout you and Connor.â
You paled, your hands dropping slightly and your eyes widening. âOh,â you muttered.
âYou didnât tell me you were engaged before,â she whispered. She took a step away, and you swallowed as your arms fell to your sides. âWhy didnât you tell me?â
âBecause itâs not a big deal,â you said, biting your lip.
âNot a big deal?!â Her eyebrows furrowed. How could she think this isnât a big deal? âYou were engaged--set to spend the rest of your life with someone.â She waved her hand. âSet to spend the rest of your life with him! And you think thatâs not a big deal, or something that you shouldnât tell your girlfriend?â
âTar, let me explain,â you pleaded. âJust, let me explain, please.â
She inhaled sharply. âFine.â
You sighed in relief, blinked hard, and began. âHe proposed to me at our high school graduation, up on the stage, in front of everyone. I--I didnât want to embarrass him, or our families, so I said yes, and, technically, yes, we were engaged.â You shook your head, slumping onto your bed and holding your face in your hands. âI shouldâve never said yes. We went home that night, and I told him I didnât actually want to get married. Obviously, he didnât like that, so he broke up with me.â
Taraâs face softened, her anger simmering. âYou were engaged forâŠwhatâŠonly a few hours?â
You nodded, glancing at her. âYeah. Thatâs why I didnât tell you, because it really isnât a big deal. I mean, honestly? I hardly liked Connor anyway. I was with him because I thought my parents wanted that, but they donât care.â You shrugged. âThey just want me to be happy.â You stood, crossed the room, and took Taraâs hands in your own. âAnd you make me happy.â
Tara grinned, then glanced away sheepishly. âIâm sorry I kind of overreacted.â
You shook your head and pulled her into you, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. âNo, I shouldâve told you. And Iâm sorry that I didnât.â
âItâs okay,â she mumbled into your chest, sliding her own arms around your waist and hugging you tightly. You kissed the top of her head, and she hummed before another thought popped into her head. âDo you think you should be with someone whoâŠhas a family like this?â She pulled back and gestured to your room. âWho could afford all of this?â
âTara,â you said softly, frowning. âI donât care that your family isnât in the high arts, or that your parents arenât business magnates, or that you didnât grow up the way I did. I love you.â You leaned down and kissed her. âDonât let what Connor said get to you, okay? Heâs a pompous dirtbag.â
Tara chuckled. âHe is, isnât he?â
âYes. The biggest pompous dirtbag I know.â
She grinned. âI love you, too, by the way.â
âI do love nothing in the world so well as you--is not that strange?â you quoted, smiling.
She rolled her eyes. Always such a dork, she thought. My dork, though. âAre you sure you donât love Shakespeare more than me?â
You hummed, tilting your head like you were weighing your options, and she scoffed lightly. âIâm kidding. Iâm kidding. Iâll always love you more than I love Shakespeare, baby.â
âGood.â Tara bit back her smile. âDoes that mean youâll get a statue bust of me?â
â...Iâll think about it.â
bonus: âso, when you and our sister get married, will you take her last name?â eddie asked, swinging his feet from where he sat at the table in the ballroom.
âeddie--â tara began, only to be interrupted by nate, who sat on the other side of her.
âget thee a wife, get thee a wife!â he exclaimed.
âweâre only 19, guys,â she tried.
âokay, and?â eddie asked, his eyebrows furrowing.
âdo you not love my sister?â nate asked, and tara was thankful that, for once, his shakespeare quote sounded normal.
she glanced around, looking for you, but you were talking to one of your aunts on the other side of the room. she leaned down and gestured for both boys to come closer. âiâll tell you guys a little secret. when we do get married, i plan to take her last name.â
they grinned at each other across tara.
âknew it!â eddie cheered.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara x reader#tara carpenter#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna x reader#museum tara#scream 5#scream 6
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Real Life Inspiration
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Wolff!author!reader Faceclaim: Saoirse-Monica Jackson Requested: yes no
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ynwolff
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ynwolff First chapters, espresso, and headshots. It's been a busy week! Join Samrah Shahidi as she ventures through Dubai and navigates murder, theft, and a 3,000 year old mystery! The Amber Trolley available for pre-order now wherever you get your books!
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carlossainz55 Do I get a sneak peak?
ynwolff Only if you're nice to me carlossainz55 I'm currently holding flowers for you while your father glares at me please save me ynwolff I'm on my way
zakiyadaliaharris So beyond excited for this!
ynwolff Thank you for consulting! Could not have gotten anything done without you!
casey.mcquiston Yes! Gonna read this thing in one sitting
ynwolff Sending a never ending supply of hot chocolate your way
yns.pen More???? Oh my god we are getting fed next year
samrahfans She's back! Oh this one is going to be good, I can feel it
ynwolff
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yourusername Cover reveal! The Amber Trolley is available for preorder now!
Stay tuned for another special announcement coming within the next week!
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carlossainz55 So beyond proud of you, mi corazĂłn. Cannot wait to add it to my track bag
ynwolff I love you so much, mein könig. chiliwilicarlos He calls her his heart I'm done. I'm done, I'm done. Sleeping on the highway tonight
zakiyadaliaharris Classic! Oh it looks amazing
ynwolff Mailing you a copy as we speak!
samrahfans I'M CRYING IT LOOKS SO CLEAN
chiliwilicarlos I swear if we get pictures of him reading this book at the track I will drop dead on the spot
yns.pen She truly never misses
blackfireproofs GOD he's the best boyfriend ever isn't he
ynwolff Can confirm đ„°
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 A week well spent with mi corazĂłn in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. We get back to the grind this week
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ynwolff Mein könig, I love you more than words
carlossainz55 That's a lot, you really love words ynwolff And I love you more than all of them
charles_leclerc You're welcome for the recommendation
carlossainz55 The wine was delicious, we're bringing you some ynwolff And a signed copy charles_leclerc I'm more excited about the book than the wine
landonorris I wasn't invited?
formulafan Would you want to spend 2 weeks in a villa with Toto Wolff? landonorris No you're right, actually
blackfireproofs Oh Jesus Christ he gets more perfect every day
chiliwilicarlos I'm about as useful as a puddle rn
yourusername Bahrain
Liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, mercedesamgf1 and 24,046 others
yourusername Back to running across the paddock in desert heat
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carlossainz55 Come back I miss you
ynwolff I literally just walked into my father's office carlossainz55 đ„ș ynwolff Not gonna work
mercedesamgf1 She's home finally
ynwolff I'm not watching the race with you mercedesamgf1 đŠ carlossainz55 đ
scuderiaferrari Are we going to need to work out a custody schedule?
mercedesamgf1 I think we might need to ynwolff Do I get a say? scuderiaferrari No mercedesamgf1 No
carlotta.solano Bahrain
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carlotta.solano Back in the place where it all started. Away We Go is available for pre order now! Follow Alina Wolter as she tries to balance her dream job working for her favorite F1 team and resisting the charismatic first driver Santiago Cabrera!
Signed copies will go to the first 300 pre orders!
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blackfireproofs Call me crazy, but I think I sense a pen name....
yns.pen No I've been thinking the same thing. Two books getting announced on the same day... blackfireproofs Not to mention the initials of the name too. C.S... and it's a Spanish name. And Carlotta??? yns.pen It sounds extremely similar to Carlos yns.pen And the character's names! Wolter... her last name is Wolff. And Santiago Cabrera? chiliwilicarlos It's just Carlos' initials reversed. And the names are German and Spanish. German close enough to Austrian but still blackfireproofs No there are way too many parallels yns.pen Not to mention that YN is in Bahrain with Carlos and her father for the race
ynwolff
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ynwolff Book signing, burgers, and- I'm too tired to finish the alliteration
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carlossainz55 Best nap I've had in a while to be honest
ynwolff Honestly me too
zakiyadaliaharris Book signings bring on a different kind of tired
ynwolff I can't feel my hand casey.mcquiston Ice. So so much ice in your future
yns.pen I cannot believe I actually met her today! Oh my god, she was so so sweet and took her time with while I tried to speak German
ynwolff Your German was much better than you give yourself credit for! It was such a pleasure to meet you
blackfireproofs I went today too and watched Carlos watch her while I was waiting in line and oh my god he was looking at her like she was the moon
ynwolff
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ynwolff Weekend away with my very own Santiago Cabrera during which he stole my sunglasses no more than twelve times
Comments on this post have been limited
carlossainz55 My own Alina Wolter đ„° Better in person than on paper, no?
ynwolff Always better in person than on paper
â·â·â·â·â·
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#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#social media au#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz jr
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2023 was another big stepping stone with Cass. The character was featured in A LOT of stuff this year amongst a few negative antics.
But unlike prior years the good really outweighed the bad. BY A LOT.
So let's take a look back one final time #CAINAISSANCE2023...
The year started STRONG with the release of Batgirls #14 aka the BEST solo story that involved the character this year.
I've gone in LENGTH on how AMAZING this tale was. If you haven't read it DO SO. You don't need any context but to just take in the masterpiece given.
Writers Becky Cloonan and Michael Conrad gave artist Jonathan Case just this canvas of an issue to tell AN EPIC mostly silent issue.
If there's a tale Batgirls will be remembered for it'll BE THIS ISSUE.
I've lost count to just taking in the gorgeous art Case delivers here and just letting the actions and emotions tell the tale.
The only regret is well no full payoff to what is fully learned within this issue.
It just hits EVERY mark and is something any Cass fan CRAVED, but never got in Batgirl Vol. 1. Batgirls #14 was a worthy issue that should be talked about amongst fans of Cass for quite some time.
February gave us Cass's grand entrance to Ram V's Detective Comics run (#1069) and what an entrance it was! Literally, I can't let it go of how AMAZING it was.
And the run itself? It just keeps delivering as THE Batman book out currently.
It's a slow burn and when the run lays the payoffs IT HITS THOSE PAYOFFS. The series just ended an exceptional bi-weekly event that featured Cass and well, I'm extremely curious where this run goes with the character.
If anything, I just want MOAR from Ram V or a smaller secondary story involving Cass. But given the various characters he's been rotating and given next year is 2024 (more on that later) I'm keeping my fingers crossed for ALL OF THIS.
This run does work in trade but I digress you'd be missing the GORGEOUS covers this series has been shelling out. If anything BUY the single issues and read the run this way until you get to the present.
Or reread them like I've been doing. đ
The early half of 2023 marked Cass's surprise return to an actual role in mega crossovers. She took part in the final issue of Batman vs. Robin being one of the random factors to stall the possessed Batman until ALL of DC's magical users came to cast it out of him.
The weakest of the crossovers the character was involved in I have to say was Gotham War. It was a nothing burger that made me swear off the Chip Zdarsky run of Batman completely.
Honestly, I feel more rewarded reading Tec more. Unless Chip pulls off a miracle turnaround in 2024.
But I digress Zdarsky was only half of the problems with the other being Tini Howard and yeah, if you were a Bat Family member who wasn't Jason Todd (how did that mini turn out to be more entertaining then the ENTIRE event?!)?
This story SUUUUUUUUCKED. Quite possibly the worst Batman event story since War Games/Crimes for me.
Sadly, the most disappointing stories I'd have to say are on equal ground in Beast World and Knight Terrors. As there was interesting concepts with Cass involving them, and both stories just go NOWHERE.
I feel more so robbed with Knight Terrors as the design for Cass within it went hard. It's just that you give us THIS design and tease us with this little nugget and give us NOTHING?
COME ON!
Beast World was a whole nothing burger as well, save the pretty art and a full confirmation that Cass's old NML is now canonically her defacto one again.
Even if we had it mentioned earlier last year and again in the best crossover event involving Cass...
WHICH WAS IN LAZARUS PLANET: DARK FATE #1. It gave us Alyssa Wong returning for a THIRD time to write Cass and they were joined by Haining on art which introduced us to the world of Xanthe.
That in itself led to a spinoff mini-series that had Cass in it with SPIRIT WORLD. It did more with the new character Xanthe and laid out their origins and powerset nicely while also laying some seeds for MAYBE future Cass stories.
Again, I feel like a repeating record on how GOOD this series was. Like, I can't wait for the trade next year to take it all in again. But besides the creative team delivering it gave us Dustin Nguyen AND Marcio Takara drawing Cass again OFFICIALLY AS BATGIRL!!
Even when this series ended, I STILL WANT MOAR!! Like what memories did Cass lose? What the heck happened with Spirit World twisting her memories of Batgirl Vol. 1 #72?! How will Xanthe be with the Jade Court?
SO MANY QUESTIONS!!
Something else that left me with MANY questions was DCeased universe as even though the story ended back in April.
I still crave more starring Cass, because let's face it STEPH/TALIA DESERVE CLOSURE!! Cass could be the gateway to that.
Doing so would tie up the final loose ends as well. Let's see how Rose is raising her kid with Jason. Silent Olsen. Harley/Ivy. Ollie/Dinah. Jim Gordon.
But I digress. It gives us more Cazzam. We need more Cazzam.
But an alternate universe Cass just didn't pop up there we had a Cass show up in various other comics. Knights of Steel which also had me hankering for MOAR and Harley Quinn & the Legion of Bats.
I know some didn't like it, but me? I think it was LEAPS and BOUNDS better than what we got in the actual season of HQ.
Let us never talk about that season againâŠ
Now something we SHOULD talk about more is the first actual appearance of Cass in a DC ANIMATED MOVIE!! Yes, Kai Li Cain from Batman: The Doom that Came to Gotham.
I was blown away at the extended role they gave the character in the film (to the, "Oh right Tim is here and alive." role in the books).
Kai Li voiced perfectly by Tati Gabrielle gave a balance of innocence and reason with the batshit craziness this film throws at us.
Like, I really REALLY want a sequel. Just to see what she'd do now given full access to Bruce's fortune? Will she follow his path? I mean yeah we want steampunk Bat!
Speaking of which artists we need designs for this stat still!
It just adds that anchor where you want to see more of this universe and the characters that inhabit it. I mean that's the sign of a REALLY good Elseworlds. Where you want more and sometimes you get just that.
But with all this good came the sad, and that was the canceling of Batgirls. I know many were against the series (especially after #7-8), but the series found its footing with #9 and ran into something I hope more positively can be talked about it.
It's true failing wasn't the creators behind the series, more just elements outside that just slotted it's end (Batgirl movie getting canned making #7-8 more wasteful), Evil Oracle #4 aka the pitch, and just being something it couldn't be).
I'm grateful for each and every creator who worked on this book because it was a GIFT that I'll always be appreciative of.
I'll say it again, THANK YOU TO ALL! đ
And its spirit lived on in the Nightwing back up a few months ago. It was something that was TRULY needed after the garbage fire that was Gotham War. It gave us this Cass/Dick sibling stuff and GIVE ME MOAR!!!
Unlike the past where we'd be done, DC brought us back up giving us the current BIRDS OF PREY ongoing which has Cass in it.
Really the series is a revelation of giving us things I always wanted that I'd never thought we get. Cass with Dinah? CHECK.
Cass meeting Big Barda and the two having a bond? HELLS YEAH CHECK! Anytime that bond grows I squee even more.
Just give writer Kelly Thompson ALL the time and ideas she has to churn this out to the proper conclusion she has envisioned. Just give me fifty-plus issues of her, Leonardo Romero, and Jordie Bellaire.
Finally of course there was Batman: Wayne Family Adventures which gave us THREE banger Cass stories. One where she and Steph are a MENANCE (as they should), Cass scaring the crapbaskets out of EVERYONE and of course...
Season 2 gave us A LOT of things I wanted in general (her interacting with Damian) and just showing the world why I really really love this character. Why I talk about her daily.
Really as 2023 closes and 2024 is about to begin... Well, it's the character's TWENTIETH-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 25 years of kicking ass and ripping our hearts out.
It's been a journey for sure.
really REALLY hope DC honors this anniversary and continues to mend the bridges burned all those years ago.
Give us that Omnibus. Give us a mini or SOMETHING to celebrate this character. If not, I'll take whatever Ram V and Thompson give us.
#CAINAISSANCE2023 may be over, but #CAINAISSANCE2024 will be the most important year yet.
25 YEARS OF CASS!! LET THE CELEBRATION BEGIN ON JANUARY 1st!
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college roommate - leon kennedy x reader
nerdy!reader x leon kennedy
synopsis: you and leon have just started university, finding yourself in the same university visit, he comes and visits your dorm as he's been struggling in his classes. you kick it off, and you invite each other into your different, interesting lives.
words: like 4500
disclaimer: this isn't proof-read and i actually do need to proofread it and i will when i finish it, this also isn't finished. so if u don't wanna read it now and wanna come back to it when it's pristine and complete be my guest, the edit of this will be very edited like literally whole chunks of texts will be different, i just wanted to post something
content warning: kissing, bit of angst, slight smut/almost smut, sexual themes
A loud knock rings through your door, if it had come even a second later you wouldnât have heard it at all as you were on a one-way path to passing out on top of your notes.Â
âCome in.â You mumble, picking your head up off of the desk and watching as a dirt-blonde hunk of a boy you donât recognise comes through. Maybe itâs one of the frat boys trying to get to know all the girls in his dorm house.Â
âHey. Can I ask a favour?â
âWho are you?â
"I'm Leon, I saw you in my engineering lecture the other day and you looked like you understood what was going on. Then I found out you were in my university building. So here, I am. Help. Please. Iâm going to fail and weâre only 3 weeks in." His desperation makes you laugh, something you were shocked you could do in this dazed state after a mind-boggling 8 hours of completing work.
"Oh Leon, I'd love to but I think if I even think about that engineering class for another second right now I might actually drop down and die."
"It can wait, you busy right now? Other than you know, spilling drool all over your papers?â
âYeah, I was just about to go spill some on my pillow too, I'm exhausted." You say, not entirely joking, and begin to gather your things.
âI get it.â
âWe have another engineering lecture tomorrow anyway so you can just catch me then."
"You sure, though? I mean I'm already here." He shrugs and picks up a book from her bookshelf. "How do you read any of these? There are no pictures." You laugh again.Â
"You're asking me how I read physics books when you take engineering⊠Are you sure you picked the right course? You know, you can read it if you want, and would probably benefit from it. If you can even read."
"No thanks, I'll just get you to teach it to me tomrrow. Iâll see you in a bit, Einstein.âÂ
"You should watch what you call me if you want me to tutor you, thatâs usually not free."
"Oh, but the thing is I don't think you're actually going to make me pay for anything. You're too nice for that."
"That's a very bold statement to make to a stranger."
"You'll come round eventually."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"Can I just ask you another question? I'm not going to stop annoying you until you answer it the way I want you to."
"Go on." You sigh.
"Have you eaten today? Cause I haven't and I'm hungry."
"Leon-"
"Please."
"Okay, okay, God, you're persistent. Gonna give me a headache." You groan and sit up.
"Itâs worth it, you'll need me to keep you sane later in the year."
"Oh really? You think weâre gonna stay friends that long?"
"I know you've got your nerdy brain, but I've been told I have a great personality." You can't tell if he's implying something with that disgustingly stupid joke or if he really is just an idiot. To be fair, he's funny and managed to pull you out your the room you had been hibernating in for the past few days to get ahead of work. You suppose there are worse people you could be forced to talk to.
"Whatever. Just get out of here." You push him towards the door.
"You're not going to eat with me?" You roll your eyes and lock the door, getting dressed into something that wasn't your pyjamas.
âŠ
Now here you were, eating outside with this boy from your lectures when you had just wanted to be at home sleeping. Although it was nicer than you thought it would be, he had insisted on buying you an energy drink to keep your eyes open as you were eating in some random burger shop.
"How come you're struggling?"Â
"Been going to too many parties, I've got different priorities."
"..."
"What?" He says defensively.
"Don't make me slap you. You can't be stupid because you got into this university, you're wasting your potential."
"I am not!"
"You're struggling! We're only 3 weeks in! I mean, come on, Leon."
"I don't understand what your problem is, maybe you need to live a little."
"That is rich coming from you. You're going to peak in college and fuck up the rest of your life if you ruin your chance now. And I live fine right now, I go out often enough and put the rest of my time toward my course, like a responsible human being."
"So you're boring?"
"So you're an idiot and can't plan for the future?"
"No, I'm not." He smirks. "And also, I never said I couldn't plan for the future, just that it isn't the only thing I want to focus on."
"Okay, fine, that's it. This is your problem, I'm not tutoring you."
"Got under your skin?" He smiles.
"I'm serious. You're smart if you got into this school, but you're wasting your talent partying and sleeping around."
âYouâve only known me for 20 minutes and youâve managed to start an argument.â
âI just donât want to waste my time. If you want me to help with assignments you need to make an effort, and if you want to be my friend, youâre also going to need to make an effort because Iâm not going to care about someone who canât even care about themselves.â
"I care about myself. Why else would I come to you for help on this?"
"Because you can't do it yourself and your friends are too stupid to ask them for help."
"No... Well... Okay fine, yeah that sounds pretty accurate. But in all honesty, I do care about my grade, that's why I'm coming to you. Now you know my intentions, I beg talk about something else, this entire conversation is reminding me of my mom."
"Like what?"
"Like, there's a party next Saturday, and I think you should come with me. Youâre pretty entertaining."
"Oh, Leon. You're so clueless, it's pitiful."
"You have to go to the party, it will be fun."
"I have been to parties, I've gone to 2 since the start of the semester. But we have assignments to work on this week."
"One more little party isn't going to kill you. It'll be good, and then we can do the work."
"That's a very backward mindset."Â
"You'll thank me, trust me."
"You say the reason youâre struggling is because youâre going to many parties, and immediately proceed to invite me to a party." You shake your head and laugh. âYou are something else.â
âSo are you coming?â
âIâll think about it.â
âŠÂ
You and Leon had been going to the lectures together ever since, having lunch at points when he wasnât hoarded by his friends and even managing a few study sessions into his schedule. You came 5 minutes early for the engineering lecture the next day. Flipping through the textbook notes to top up on your pre-reading beforehand, you had right at the back as Leon begged you to over text the previous night to sit there rather than the front so heâd feel comfortable sitting next to you. It doesn't take long for people to start filtering in, and eventually, that blonde-headed boy pops up next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder immediately.Â
"Didn't get enough sleep last night." He mutters.
"Up studying?"
"You know me so well."Â
âI'm not even going to ask what you were doing." You sigh, fully believing he had either gone clubbing or to another party last night.
"I promise you, I was studying. And you can ask me all the questions you want, I'll try my best to answer. I did go a little off track and I'm not doing well at it but your inspirational speech convinced me to try a bit."
"Really?" You ask excitedly, looking down at him. "Leon, that's great!" You feel his cheeks crease into a smile against your shoulder at your enthusiasm.
"You're more excited about it than I am, that's cute." He chuckles. "Keep talking, my head hurts, your voice helps."
"The lecture starts soon."
"Don't care."Â
"Iâm not going to talk over the lecturer." You say, flicking his forehead.
"It's just a lot, okay? I'm trying my best, but I might have reached my full capacity last night." He sits up and sighs, rubbing his temples.
âWelcome to university."
"Yeah, whatever. Can we go back to your room after?"
"Sure."
"Thank you."
"Of course."Â
The professor finally steps into the lecture hall, and everyone quiets down, preparing for the lesson.
Halfway through, Leon couldn't help but pass out on you again. Your body went rigid, trying to make sure his head wouldn't fall off your shoulder. You pick the paper off of his desk, dragging it toward you as you start to write notes on your own and his paper so he won't miss out on anything.
He's surprisingly cute when he's not cracking annoying jokes and snapping back with snarky remarks. He was even making you lose track of the lecture a bit.
After class, you wake him up and walk him back to your dorm with him, chatting and catching him up on what he missed briefly. When you think about it, you're surprised you only met him yesterday. He feels like someone you've known since secondary school, or maybe he just treats everyone this way. Either way, you wouldn't complain about spending time with him.
"So, we're alone. What do we do?"
"Study?" You say, throwing him a pencil and paper. "Don't ask me stupid questions like that again."
"Come on, we just got out of an hour lecture, we basically already studied."
"A lecture that you slept for half of-"
"And that you caught me up on after."
"We need to make up the time. Now come on, let's work."
"But-"
"Now, Leon."
"Ugh."
âŠ
The next hour wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be, you could still get your work done while simultaneously teaching Leon that content he missed out on. His demeanour quickly became enthusiastic when he saw how proud you were when you understood a concept, and you were genuinely impressed, he caught onto things quickly. After an hour, you both took a break sitting on your bed, him replying to some messages on his phone.
"Hey." You say, poking his arm to draw his attention.
"What?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Making the effort to try, even if it is just a little bit."
"You're definitely making more effort than me." He smiles, leaning his head on your shoulder again.
"If you want to sleep you should just go home, you must be exhausted."
"I'm not leaving you in this depressing room, I'm keeping you company."
"Iâm not keeping you from anything? Your phone was blowing up a second ago I assume you have somewhere to be."
"They can wait, I want to stay around for a bit longer. I like the change for once."
"Change?"
"It's quiet, I can think for once. Youâre different from the people Iâm around smart and stubborn,â
âSo youâre aware of the poor choice of people you hang around, you had me fooled for a while.â
âWait Iâm not done, and even after all of that, I can tell that you're a little shy which is adorable. Oh, and my favourite part is how easy you are to annoy."
"I am not."
"You're blushing right now, I can feel your cheek getting hot. Adorable."
"Donât you even close your mouth?"
"You know I can't, come on, it's not like you mind."
"Oh my god."
"Admit it, I'm fun to be around."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Tell me what you think of me."
"What?"
"Tell me, come on. Please, I'm dying for validation."
"Well. You're nice, and I've never seen you without a smile on your face, it's refreshing.â
âA little more⊠I know you got it in you.â
âYou're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be,. And I honestly can't tell if I'm special or if you treat everyone else this way because you make me feel way more important than I really would be for someone like you."
"You're special, trust me. And that's a stupid question to ask. Do you want a list of the people I've met? The people Iâve made friends with?"
"What?"
"I can count on one hand the real people I've managed to keep around and one of those is my dog. Don't worry about that, because I know youâre gonna be on that list too. I know you think that I have so many friends and I'm surrounded by people all the time, but they're all fake. They're just fun for parties and clubbing when you have nothing else to do."
"But-"
"It's true." He looks at you, his expression becoming serious for the first time since you've met him. "And I've got to tell you, you're different."
"Different?"
"Yeah, you're interesting. You're not fake, and you're actually doing something with your life."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that, I think youâve just surrounded yourself with one particular type of person, and now youâre shocked when you meet someone whoâs not an idiot."
"Come on, I've seen the work you've done in these past 24 hours. You were working for at least 25 of them.âÂ
"You know how to flatter me."
"That's another reason why you should hang out with me more."
"Oh, and why's that?"
"I'm not afraid to admit how much I like you, Einstein. Makes you feel good, doesnât it?"
"I can't even think about what I should say to that." You say, laughing and burying your head in your hands. "God, you're a mess."
âI suppose, yeah. Youâre changing that though.â He lifts your chin up to face him, smiling at your red cheeks. âSee? So cute.â
"Why do you have to keep saying things like that?"
"Because you react this way." He grins.
"I hate you."
"Let me ask you something again. Are you going to go to the party on Saturday?"
"I donât think so."
âSince Iâve got the chance, I think I can change your mind.â He smiles and pulls your face a little closer, close enough for him to feel your shallow breaths against his lips.
"I-" You can't find any words, you're stunned. He's gorgeous, and you can't deny that, but the idea of kissing him feels wrong, you can't do it. Not right now. The thought of getting with someone you're starting to have feelings for is setting off alarm bells, the alarm bells imprinted by your bad experiences from secondary school of guys playing with your emotions. No matter how much your heart is screaming you want to, your mind is screaming no.Â
"You're gonna go with me right?" He whispers.
"Okay." You say hoarsely, your legs desperately pressed together.
"Good girl." He smiles, getting up and putting his shoes on. "I'll see you on Saturday." He says, before leaving.
"I'm screwed." You mutter.
âŠÂ
Saturday finally rolled around. You weren't even sure how much time you spent with Leon the day before, but you knew you wanted more. This was starting to become a concern for you. You remember last year, when you were hurt so bad you pledged to never fall for someone again. You can't do this, not with him. You know Leon is exactly that kind of guy, heâs charming, an athlete, with too many friends for his own good, someone who has no reason to be associated with you unless he wanted something, and was patient when it came to getting it.Â
And yet, here you were, wearing a simple little black dress and the heels Leon said would match. You pray that the feelings are cut off here, hopefully he sees you as just a friend and just likes to tease. But a little part of you has a sliver of hope that maybe this is real.
Leon came to pick you up from your room, as he was only a floor away. When you opened the door you were met with Leon dressed in a black bottom down with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up which definitely made you feel some kind of way.
"Leon, hi." You say, overly aware of the fabric hugging your skin, you rarely wore tight clothes.Â
"Wow." His eyes were stuck to everything that wasn't your face.
"Hey! My eyes are on my face, not my chest."
"I know."
"Leon!"
"Just admiring the view." You ended up crossing your arms to try and hide a bit of your figure.
"Can you stop looking?"
"You look great, don't worry." He says.
"Whatever."
"No, I'm serious. I mean it, you look amazing. Just relax and have fun, okay?"Â He puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You look hot. And it's only going to get better. Just try to have a good time, I'll be by your side the whole time.â
"I've been to a party before, you don't need to baby me."
"I know itâs just this one is a big one. They always end in a mess. I've had a couple of close calls with the police."
"That's not what I'm worried about." I'm worried about what I might end up doing with you, she thinks.
"Just tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable and we can go." He smiles and leads you out of the dorm building and into the street.
"How far is it?"
"Only a few minutes away." He says, leading you along the sidewalk.
The walk wasn't too far, it was about 20 minutes of you both drinking from a wine bottle for some pre-game. Time seemed to fly by as you came to the house. Whoever was hosting this party, probably one of Leon's friends no doubt, was rich. The house was huge and the whole thing was vibrating with the music that blasted through it.
"We're here."
"I think itâs going to collapse.."
"Wait until you see inside." He grabs your hand and drags you in, the house packed. You didn't recognise anyone and felt a little intimidated as Leon led you through the crowd of people, pushing them aside. You couldn't believe there were this many students in the town.
He stops at the kitchen, handing you a drink. You hadn't gone to a party this big before, and that was voluntary, this was just too much. You drink it in one to hopefully get you drunk enough to gain a bit of confidence and hand it back to Leon for it to get refilled.
"I didn't know there were this many people here."
"There's usually a lot." He smiles, handing her another drink. "Don't worry, I'll be with you the whole night. You take a shot before starting to sip on the more tame drink Leon had gotten.Â
"What do you want to do first?"
"Letâs go find some of my friends.He says, taking your hand and dragging you through the sea of people, most likely dancing, grinding, or drinking.
He pulls you into the living room, finding his friends from one of the lectures and joining in on their conversation. You're introduced and you talk with them, they're all quite funny and sweet. You were happy to have found a fun little group.
The rest of the night is spent with them, the five of you getting progressively drunker and drunker and talking about more and more stupid shit before someone suggests the group should go and dance, you immediately go and hide behind Leon.Â
"Dancing is definitely not my thing." You whisper.
"You have to come."
"No way."
"Please." He says, looking into your eyes.
"Why?"
"I want you to."
"Leon."
"If you hate it, I'll make it up to you. Please." He whispers, and you sigh, giving in. "I know you'll enjoy it." He smiles and leads her by the hand into the living room where everyone is.
"Everyone's too drunk to be paying any attention anyway." He says, and the group joins in on the dance.Â
After a few more drinks the alcohol started to hit.
"Isn't so bad, is it?" He says after the first few minutes, watching you find your rhythm.
"No, it's fun."
"See, told you."
"Don't let it go to your head, I'm just drunk."
He smiles, spinning you so your back is pressed against his, the two of you continue to dance. He leans down and kisses your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and grinding into you.
"Leon-"
"It's hard to control myself with you, almost kissed you that time I convinced you to come to this party, could tell you werenât sure though."
"Because I thought we were just friends."
"That never lasts long, does it? Did you really think it was going to stay that way forever?" He says, running his hand down your thigh.
"We're drunk." You mumble, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. God, you wanted it. You were trying with everything you had to rationalise with yourself. He knew what he was doing.
"That doesn't change the fact that you're irresistible. And that's not the alcohol talking. I've been wanting to do this for a while."
 He smirks, spinning her back around to face him and lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.
"Let's go upstairs,"
"Leon-"
"Shh." He puts a finger over her lips and leads her away, finding the stairs and walking up. âStop doubting yourself. One thing about you is that you always say no, or doubt yourself, letâs change that for once.â
He takes you to the first room he finds, happening to be a bathroom, opening the door and stepping in, kicking it closed and locking it. He sets you down and starts to kiss you, the alcohol making it a lot more forceful than usual. You kiss back, letting him guide you and set the pace, his hands sliding over her body.Â
"You're so fucking beautiful." He mutters, his lips trailing down to your neck. You feel the pressure of his hands pushing you backwards. Your back hits the counter, he lifts you up and settles himself between your thighs.
"Leon-"
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure? About me?"
"Yes." He smiles, lifting his head. "Now stop doubting yourself, will you? You're too perfect for that." If you were sober, your mind would've had red lights blaring, trying to protect you, but the alcohol flattened out all thoughts. A hint of doubt crossed your mind instinctually. But his touch is so good, and he's making you feel things that you haven't in a long time.
"I-"
"Come on, tell me how much you want me."
"I really like you, Leon. It's just...I have this feeling that I'll get hurt."
"What are you so afraid of? What can I do to change your mind?" He whispers. "I'll do anything for you." He says, pulling your head down to kiss him. The sweet nothings bring back some bad memories, it's starting to feel a bit like deja vu.
"I've been hurt before, Leon."
"What's his name? I'll kick his ass."
"It was in high school, but it happened too many times."
"You have to stop thinking, just focus on me, okay?"
"Leon."
"Come on." He sighs, pressing a finger to your lips. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I don't want to lose something because someone in your past ruined everything for you, okay?"
"I don't know."
He sighs. "Do you wanna head home ?"
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not upset. Come on, I'll take you back."
"I didn't mean to ruin the night."
"No, I'm not letting you leave thinking you ruined it. I'm sure a million more parties are happening this week if you feel so bad."
"I'm a mess, Leon. Why do you even like me? I'm not worth it."
"Of course you are." He says, cupping your cheek."You're the only person I can stand to be around for hours while sober. And you can't argue with that."
"Okay."
"I'll get us out of here and you can crash in my room."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Now come on, we're leaving."Â
...
The taxi ride home was short and sweet, but still awkward. You were scared he'd be mad at you for ending the night so abruptly, but when you got into the room he made sure to put his arm around you, whispering reassurement into your ear, stroking your hair.
"You don't have to worry. I'm not angry."
"Really?"
"I don't blame you for wanting to wait."
"It's just, the last time-"
"I'm not him, you can trust me. I've been trying to prove that to you."
"I think... Maybe I can learn to trust you."
"You will, eventually." He says, holding his arms open, gesturing for her to cuddle with him.
"Thank you."
"Anytime."
You cuddle him for a bit, the silence being cut by the sound of the two of you breathing. Leon leans down to kiss capture your lips softly, it feels a lot easier to kiss him back, pressing your body against him.
"I don't know why anyone would ever hurt you." He whispers between kisses. "You're perfect." He runs his fingers through your hair.
"I don't know about that."
"I don't know why you doubt yourself either. Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."
#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil 4#resident evil 2#resident evil 2 remake#resident evil 4 remake#leon kennedy#leon kennedy fanfiction#leon kennedy fanfic#leon#leon scott kennedy#leonskennedy#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon x reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil
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What does it take for regifted jewelry to be romantic?
Rambling crap post that will literally only make sense of you have seen the movie The Family Stone but let's do it.
Sometimes I genuinely try to understand other ships. I actually really mean that, in a deeply authentic and non sarcastic way. If this shipwar wasn't so nasty, I'd engage with other people the way I do with my real, human, offline friends- some of whom are E/lucien's and G/wynriels. They are genuinely wonderful people who are not chronically online like we are (and we are, there's no point throwing that around as an insult) and they don't actually care that much. They are just going off vibes - but would be absolutely disgusted to see the violent misogyny and bullying that takes place here. We enjoy talking to each other about the ships, even when we don't agree.
Typically, when I am trying to understand something, I seek out more of it. I've asked my friends for fated mate book recommendations that match E/Lucien's story (meeting your mate, then genuinely falling for another person that is absolutely right for you in every way except for the fact that he is not your mate, and somehow the plot leads to falling in love with your mate that you don't like anyways because fate is always right and never makes mistakes, even if everyone is questioning it because you have feelings for someone else) and I haven't been able to find anything. The closest I can get is meeting your mate when you are possibly already in love/engaged/what have you to someone else and then you find out that person you are already with is actually the worst (aka Graysen) and then you wind up falling in love naturally and authentically with your mate. This is what makes it work. The person who isn't your mate showing his true colors and realizing you were wrong about them.
I think this is why Azriel's character has been rewritten to create a moment of the male Elain is actually into showing his true colors. Otherwise, her moving on to her mate that she isn't interested in just because the guy she likes rejected her literally doesn't make any sense. It can't be political machinations and the threat of violence and exterior motives and interference keeping Azriel and Elain apart. It has to be Azriel's personality and personhood, or the fated mates typical structure that I assume everyone is basing their thought process on falls apart.
I've actually been wracking my brain for years to find a piece of art or story that represents a piece of jewelry being regifted symbolizing the transference of a relationship and I FINALLY realized- my favorite holiday movie- The Family Stone! My God, the movie is literally named for the piece of jewelry, his mother's ring.
Finally having a piece to work with and pick apart allowed me to understand what elements are required to really pull off "regifting" to show that the gift is symbolically landing where it needs to go in a moving and romantic way.
1: The jewelry must not have been picked out and purchased for a specific woman, with deep and thoughtful insights as to why the man saw this piece of jewelry and thought of the woman he loves. In The Family Stone, the ring is an heirloom. It is no one's ring but his mother's. And the journey of this stone landing on the hand of the woman that is right for Emmet is deep, complicated, and heart breaking.
This is not the case for Azriel, who saw the rose necklace (very widely agreed to symbolically represent Elain on all sides) and saw something that the full depth and color was revealed when held to the light, a thing of secret, lovely beauty. And he knew it was meant for Elain. My God. Jfc. That's poetry.
2: The original recipient of the gift must actively show displeasure or disappointment in the jewelry- further revealing that this is the wrong woman.
In The Family Stone, Meredith (Sarah Jessica Parker), the "first" and "wrong" woman sees the ring on her little sister Julie's finger (Claire Danes) and while there is some drama (the ring symbolically gets stuck on Julie's finger lolol) Meredith looks at the ring and hilariously goes- "That's it?" because the diamond is so small. She doesn't like it. She wouldn't want to wear it. Meanwhile Julie was stunned. She lost her breath over its beauty and was overwhelmed.
Elain was also stunned and breathless at how beautiful her gift was. She wants to wear it immediately, and she wants him to put it on her. The act of this beautiful, thoughtful gift emboldens Elain to do something she has never done before: Blatant, unrestricted touching. Even while the man she is supposed to be with, the man whose gifts do disappoint her, sleeps upstairs. So the classic holiday romance trope of one gift is right and one gift is wrong is already playing out. From Elain's perspective, the woman who will demand a say in who she chooses and is the only confirmed FMC, she's been getting disappointing gifts from her mate for years. When she finally sees a gift that steals the air from her lungs and lights up her eyes, a gift she wants to wear and use immediately after years of lukewarm responses to the man she is "meant" to be with, it's romantic as fuck. Unless you don't like her and don't want her with Azriel, in which case it isn't romantic to you personally. However, personal opinion on Elain doesn't actually change the fact that after years of many of us already assuming Az and Elain were into each other, they had an extremely classic holiday romance reveal.
4: The act of changing your mind about who will receive this gift, in order for it to be romantic, must be an act of hope. An act of joy and dreams and revelation. Realizing that there is more out there for you, and after years of playing it safe, of trying to make it work for the wrong reasons with the wrong woman, you are ready to be brave and break your character patterns to act on that dream of happiness.
Near the climax of The Family Stone, we discover that Emmet's mother, the keeper of this ring, has had her breast cancer return. It is already clear she is not going to make it this time.
We learn that Emmet has been acting out of trauma, grief, and loss. He cannot wrap his mind around the thought of getting married without his mother being there. In a heart breaking scene, Sybil finally gives Emmet the ring she has been refusing the entire movie and lets him know it is his decision. But she also frees him from the horrible pressure he has placed on himself to get married while she is still alive. She wishes passion, joy, and happiness for him. She helps him cope with the loss of her, helps him heal the wound and burdens he carries of trying to be the Perfect Son and do everything right. All she wants for him is happiness and love. But ultimately, the decision is his.
In a rush of hope and healing, Emmet asks Julie to try the ring on. He wants to see it on her. It is a culmination. It is powerful, emotional, and restorative. In this story of brothers and sisters coping with the loss of their mother and trying to find their personal happiness, they all wind up together in the end. Meredith winds up telling Emmet she can't marry him, before he even reveals he decided not to ask her, because they both knew it wasn't right. It was so clear that they weren't in love with each other, but just trying to fit this ideal picture for reasons that had nothing to do with love. Still, Meredith isn't a villain, and winds up falling in love with his brother. The next year, everyone but Sybil gathers as a family, the first Christmas without her. The grief is palpable, but so is the love. The image of Sybil smiling at her gathered family through last year's gifted photograph of her ends the movie.
Azriel's regifting of Elaine's necklace was not a culmination. It was not an act of hope, it was not Azriel releasing Elain because he realized his love for her was not genuine and there was real and true happiness to be found in G/wyn. He did not even care to give it to her directly. He gave it to Clotho, who absolutely read the vibes and noted his sadness. He didn't even care if it wound up with Gwyn or literally any other priestess. He needed to relieve himself of the necklace because of the pain of not being able to be with Elain, just like Cassian yeeted his first Solstice gift to Nesta into the Sidra after her rejection. Regifted or getting rid of gifts as an act of pain is not romance. It is not even symbolic of a change. It only reflects a man who is hurting because he has nowhere to channel his love and longing.
What I find odd is that most people do agree that Az regifting the necklace via Clotho is absolutely not romantic, thus Azriel incel fuckboy (which literally makes no sense) was born. For the necklace regift to hold the symbolism that G/wynriels want it to hold (a sort of passing of the torch of Azriel's affection and attention) they agree that this is icky and gross behavior but G/wyn will fix him and he'll stop being icky and gross. I'd ask for recommendations on romances like that to try to understand that thought process as well, but frankly I am not interested.
Azriel getting rid of the necklace was not an act of hope, it was an act of pain. It was lot an act of love, it was an act of loss.
A change in who a gift belongs to can be romantic, with the right elements. The great ACOSF bonus chapter necklacegate has none of them. And yet somehow, even though everyone agrees it wasn't romantic, people are still out here arguing that it clearly symbolizes a new romance.
I assure you, romance symbolizes romance. It shouldn't be tricky or leave you feeling icky or like the MMC is flaky and entitled. I cannot think of a single romance author who thinks it's a good idea to sit down and write toxic fuckbois as MMC's. Even if they were toxic fuckbois in the past, they IMMEDIATELY simp for their women. As of now, Azriel still hasn't noticed G/wyn, his supposed mate, and is hurting and heartbroken over another woman that he would kill for if asked to. He is not coping with it by raking about town and looking for a new girl to fall in love with since he was ordered away from the one he wanted. He's just training, not sleeping, and putting rocks in snowballs.
When trying to determine what is being foreshadowed as romance, if we have to stretch beyond asking the simple question what is romantic, I fear we have lost the plot.
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Okay, I got myself a physical copy of The Sun and The Star because I will always prefer a physical book to a digital one and also I can annotate them to my heart's content.
I've tried to not dive too deep into the critics of this book, mainly to avoid spoilers, but also to avoid entering this read with preformed ideas on why it's supposedly a bad book.
Now, I feel like I have to talk about why people may think this is a bad book, I've seen that one of the main critics is Nico and Will's relationship and, having read TOA, I have to say I have a feeling this is a mix of internalised queer phobia and preconceived ideas of what gay romances should be like (mainly, people want a plain straight romance but in a gay format).
Listen, I started TOA thinking that maybe Rick had completely erased Nico and Will's personalities and just made them GAYâą (ykwim). But what I saw instead was two characters who do happen to be traumatised teens in a world that keeps on traumatising them who so happen to be queer and be in a blossoming relationship.
Some of the critics are people saying Will is too controlling about Nico using his powers, but let's all just use our critical thinking skills for a hot minute and realise that the last time something big happened Will found Nico on the brink of death after Shadow travelling well past his limits, killing a guy after unleashing even more power he didn't have the energy for and fading into the Shadows. And let's also take into account that Will (a 14 y.o at that point) is the head medic of camp, so every injured camper is his responsibility and he's also the head counselor of his cabin, a position he acquired because every older Apollo kid died in the battle of Manhattan/labyrinth when he was 13. So we have a kid with way too much responsibility on his shoulders, who lost all of his older siblings at 13 and had to assume more responsibility who's seen his then crush now bf on the brink of death due to overusing his powers. Also, he literally let's Nico use his powers in Tower of Nero and they have contingencies for Nico passing out after shadow travelling, which probably means they actually communicated. I don't really see what's controlling about any of that, especially if you take into account that Nico has been borderline suicidal (because that kid will give up his life in an instant if it means helping the people who need it) and he, historically, has had basically 0 regard for his own wellbeing, something they basically show us he's working on.
Also, some points that I've seen discussed about their relationship are similar at some points to Percabeth's early years of relationship and I've seen no one criticising them for Percabeth, which is what makes me think some people just think queer relationships have to be sunshine and rainbows or be toxic, as if a couple, particularly of young teens with a buttload of abandonment and self worth issues, won't have arguments or ever disagree about anything.
This last point I'm bringing up is just purely speculation, but I've seen people complaining about the fact that Rick wrote this with another writer, as he said it was to make the gay aspect of the characters more accurate from someone who's queer. And I do feel that that decision might have derived from the heavy (and for me kind of undeserved) criticism of Solangelo's relationship dynamic in TOA. Also, some people might have been expecting a regular romance, and some people might have been expecting something purely action packed or something more similar to Percabeth's Tartarus section in HOO, which to that last one I have to say that comparing two people in a longer relationship who have interacted more often and have gone through basically all of their trauma since they were 12 together with another couple that's just starting out and made out of a kid who has too many responsibilities on his shoulders regarding the lives of people and a kid with a huge fear of abandonment and a history of being an outcast and not really liked due to his parentage and his powers as a whole (the boy owns it most of the time but we can't keep denying his self-worth issues just because he's a badass), plus one of them literally went through Tartarus alone before and had a very traumatic experience during and afterwards and the other literally needs sunlight to live, I feel like that would generate some conflicts.
That's all I wanted to say so far, do prepare for another rant once I'm done with TSATS, and probably another one where I do a more in depth analysis of Will and Nico's trauma throughout all of the Percy Jackson sagas and tell you how it shapes the beginning of their relationship.
#trials of apollo#the sun and the star#pjo hoo toa tsats#tsats#tower of nero#heroes of olympus#nico di angelo#will solace
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