#miss americana is good but less good than others

[crunchycrystals]

absolutely insane to me that cornelia street and death by a thousand cuts are on the same album as me hee heeeeee hoo hoo hooooooo

[ofstoriesandstardust]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince (b.r.b.)

note: if this fic looks familiar to you... well, that's because it's been here before. and the response was less than kind but i've cleaned a house a bit since then so it's coming back. remember that this fic is told with intertwining timelines and if you have something mean to say you'll get blocked. enjoy the read (or re-read!) :)

summary: The year Bradley left and the year he returned.

same mistakes

warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, my general same mistakes warnings

word count: 4.9k

“It’s been a long time coming/it’s me and you”

You slip out into the warm September air from Sarah’s car. 

“Bye! Have a good-” 

The door shuts as you tug your bag higher on to your shoulder. You take a deep breath, beginning the walk down the stairs to the courtyard. 

Almost immediately, the whispers begin. 

“Did you hear-” 

“Bradshaw won’t speak to her anymore-” 

“Feel kind of bad-”

“How could she-”

“I hear her Dad put her into therapy-”

“Heard she kinda lost it-”

“Bradshaw is better off-”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing to block the words out. 

They didn’t know a single thing about you nor your family. They just knew what Bradley had reveled in telling them, with no care to the fact that you had to come back to this place. 

You feel someone watching you, causing your eyes to fly open. Across the hall is Sienna and Ben, Matt and Madison, Andrew joining them from around the corner. And there, at the head of the group, is Paige. 

Just a year younger than her older brother Lucas, Paige was someone who had spent so much time in your house. Where Bradley went, Lucas followed, and where Lucas went, so did Paige. 

While Lucas graduated the year before with Bradley, you and Paige were in the same class together, had been since their family, also Navy, relocated to the Miramar base in the 4th grade. 

Paige, who’d sworn she'd be caught dead before hanging out with the likes of Sienna and Ben, after you’d caught Ben cheating on you with the girl who was supposed to be your best friend just less than six months prior. 

The bell ringing, signaling the need to head for your homeroom, does nothing to alleviate the weight of the year that you know is in front of you. 

-

Bradley squeezes your hand as you walk up the steps of the house (read: mansion) April had rented for her birthday. 

“You excited?” 

You shrug, stepping closer to Bradley as an ocean breeze blows through. 

“Are you?” 

He nods. “It’ll be fucking amazing to see everyone. It’s been a few years since the whole group has been together. I mean I’ve seen Lucas and Paige any time we’re all in town, and Morgan has finally re-located back here, but I haven’t seen Andrew in like six or seven years.” 

You swallow, feeling your nerves grow as you walk up the stone steps. 

It felt like you were walking towards the death sentence of your relationship, uncertain about what (or rather, who) you would face on the other side of that heavy oak door. 

Bradley rings the doorbell as he says, “Actually, Andrew texted me to ask if I was bringing you.” 

Your stomach drops as you hear movement on the other side of the door. “Why?”

He shrugs. “The dude’s always been nosy. I think-” 

You never know what Bradley is going to say as the front door opens, revealing a grinning April. 

“Bradshaw!” She shouts, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” 

“Happy to be here.” He says, words muffled into the girl’s shoulder. She lets him go, her smile equally as blinding when she sees you. 

“You actually brought your girlfriend. Was starting to think you were hiding mini Mitchell away from us.” 

She pulls you into a hug of her own, but it’s not fast enough, you catching Jameson Hall over her shoulder as he pokes his head around the wall to see who’s arrived. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes widen and the way he chokes on his drink. 

-

“Maybe you should join the cross-country team, I know tryouts are this Tuesday.” Ice says nonchalantly over dinner. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Why?” 

He shrugs. “It’ll be good for you to get out of the house, focusing on other… things.” 

He says things in such a way that you know really means Bradley but no one was really willing to discuss his absence, not since that last night at Ice and Sarah’s. 

“Plus, didn’t you get into running after seeing that grief counselor?” 

Your Dad had put you and Bradley both into grief counseling when Carole passed in the spring, but you’d only gone for three sessions before seeing the old dude with an office that smelled like fish and a receding hairline had gotten to be too irritating as he tried to tell you how you were supposed to feel. 

The only thing that had come out of the sessions was the suggestion of picking up an activity that allowed you to decompress and focus on other things. And you leaned into running, something that Slider teased you for doing willingly. 

They didn’t need to know that every time you went a run, you went running to see if this would be the time you’d run so far you never came back. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

-

“Thanks for inviting us, April.” Bradley says, the girl shutting the door behind you as the two of you step into the foyer. 

“Of course, I’m happy you guys came. You guys are earlier than the rest, you know how it is. Angelina and Jameson are in the living room-” She pauses as you both see the ill-hidden twitch of Bradley's lips. She holds up a hand, cutting off whatever he’s going to say. “Save it, Bradshaw. I already know.” 

He shrugs. “Good.” 

“Anyways, they’re in the living room and Alex is in the kitchen. Morgan and Paige are out by the pool, and Lucas and Andrew are on their way. I invited Ben and Sienna as well-”

Now, it’s your turn to raise any eyebrow. “April, that’s not funny.” 

She gives you a weird look. “I wasn’t kidding, I-” 

You sigh, letting Bradley’s hand fall. “I need alcohol if I’m gonna deal with the two of them.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it was like two decades ago-” 

“April.” Bradley says sternly as you turn, walking through the door next to you, avoiding the living room. 

It takes you a few minutes to find the kitchen in the house, Alex perking up when you do. 

“Hey mini Mitchell-”

“Why the hell did April invite Ben and Sienna?” 

The question is rhetorical as you wrench the fridge door open, but Alex sighs. “Because my little sister has always cared more about being liked than being a decent friend. Hey, I hear you and Bradshaw are finally together. Congrats, that’s a long time coming.” 

“Shut up Alex.” You mumble, popping the can open. 

-

Your skin is sticky with sweat, but even that can’t stop the little skip in your step as you fish through your bag for your car keys. 

You weren’t sure why you’d ended up trying out for the cross-country team like Ice had suggested, but it had felt so good to hear that you’d made the team. 

Sure, they kind of accepted everyone who could run a decent mile pace but you aren’t sure that really mattered to you.

You finally had something that was yours. 

Someone calls your name and you turn, catching sight of Morgan, the captain of the cross-country team for the last three years. 

She offers you a beaming smile, tossing her bag into the back of the truck. “Congrats on making the team.” 

You run her smile, feeling your cheeks go a little warm. “Thanks.” 

She nods. “I’m glad you tried out. We don’t get a lot of upper-classmen trying out and I bet it can be kind of intimidating trying out for the team as a senior.” 

You shrug. “Well, my godfather kind of suggested it. He thinks I need an activity, so…” 

Her eyes are filled with mirth as she lets out a little laugh. “Makes sense. Say, uh, the other seniors and I are going to get ice cream. Would you want to join us?” 

You begin to rock back and forth on your heels. “I don’t know…” You trail off, unsure if the invitation was genuine or a nicety. 

Morgan was a leader as much as she was kind, why she had earned the role of Captain as a sophomore. She’d never let anyone feel unwelcome or excluded. 

She shrugs. “It’s up to you, but we’d love to have you. If not, you should at least join us at the team barbeque at my house this weekend.” 

You swallow. Dad was all about you making new friends and Sarah was always encouraging you to give people a shot so- what did you have to lose? 

“Yeah, why not? My homework can wait a few more hours.” 

-

You can hear people filling up the house as you stand in the kitchen, avoiding leaving and seeing people you’d rather not.

“Hey.” Alex whispers, glancing back out towards the source of the sound. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, but Jameson filed for divorce last weekend. They haven’t told anyone yet.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait, why?” 

Alex drops his voice even lower. “Apparently, Angelina slept with one of the Chippendales dancers on a trip to Vegas a few months ago. Jameson just found out.” Your eyes widen at the information and Alex nods. “Yeah, sometimes how we get them is how we lose them. C’mon, let’s go join the group.” 

You follow Alex, despite the fact that you’re still reeling. “How am I supposed to pretend to be normal?” 

He shrugs. “Just play along.” 

The two of you don’t get very far before you’re intercepted by someone who looks oddly familiar to you, Bradley at her shoulder.

You blink. 

-

“Senior night is tonight?” Your Dad asks as you step off the last step. You wince, turning to face him, the letterman jacket you’d be instructed to wear suddenly feeling too heavy. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? This is so exciting-” 

“I didn’t think you’d have time to go.” 

He deflates at the flat tone in your voice, the paper crinkling in his fingers. “Well, I’d- I’d like to go if you want me there.” 

“If you want.” 

“Are- are you leaving right now?” 

You nod, feeling the keys grow sweaty in your hand as you stare at your Dad, who seems to be growing smaller. 

“Yeah. The meet is at 4, senior celebration at 6.” 

“Well, I- uh, why don’t I meet you down at the school?” 

“Sure Dad.” 

-

“Hey!” The girl says brightly.

“Hi?” 

A soft smile plays on her face. “You don’t remember me, do you?” 

Bradley sighs, taking your hand. He intertwines your fingers, the rough calluses of his palm comforting you as he does. “You remember Janie, yeah?” 

Alex lets out a laugh and an “Oh shit.” from his place next to you, lifting his hand to try and hide it. 

“Have you ever thought about minding your own business Alex?” Janie asks, a smile still on her face. 

“Have you ever known me to?” He shoots back. “But, alas,” he sighs, “I have enough respect for these two to start now.” 

Alex disappears into the crowd, as Bradley’s grip on your hand tightens. 

“I was just telling Bradley how happy it made me to hear that the two of you were finally together.” 

Janie and Bradley had started dating just weeks before Carole had shared her diagnosis with the two of you. She’d tried to see him through it, coming to the hospital and cooking and getting his missing homework assignments, but after months of things getting worse with no end in sight, she’d broken up with him. 

In hindsight, Bradley hadn’t even been all that sad, saying it was a mutual decision, that he needed to focus on his Mom before he could focus on a girlfriend. 

“I always kind of hoped, you know, that after Brad and I broke up, that the two of you would figure things out. I always knew you liked him.” 

You swallow. “Janie-” 

“No, no, it’s okay!” She exclaims, waving a hand. “Really. Even then, I knew, and honestly, I was okay with it. The two of you were meant for each other. It wouldn’t have been right if it had been me and Bradley who’d ended up together. It was always meant to be the two of you. ‘Bout broke my heart when I heard the two of you weren’t speaking to each other.” 

“Thank you, Janie.” You tell her honestly. “That’s- that’s incredibly kind of you to say.” 

“Well, I mean every word of it.” 

“Yo, Bradshaw!” Someone shouts and all three of you turn to the sound of voices entering the crowded living room. 

Bradley’s face lights up, his hand leaving yours as he goes to hug the man. “Andrew!” 

“God, you’d think they were dating.” You mutter into your drink, earning a chuckle from Janie. 

-

You and your Dad walk in silence out to your separate vehicles. Any conversation he’d tried to start after the meet had been ignored, you desperate just to get home after seeing who’d be in the crowd tonight.

Why couldn’t they all just fucking leave you alone? You hadn’t done anything, not to them, not to Bradley. They didn’t even like cross-country-

“Hey.” Morgan calls, followed by the sound of a car door opening. “Mitchell.” 

You swallow as you turn, gripping your track bag. 

“Hi Morgan.” 

She watches you with guarded eyes, leaning up against the side of her truck. “You know, when you tried out for the team, I wasn’t sure what to expect. You know, Bradshaw didn’t have a whole lot of nice things to say about you, so I’m pleasantly surprised by how you’ve done this season.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as you take a step closer. “You know Bradley? I didn’t know that.” 

She nods. “Friends since freshman year.” 

Horror dawns on you as your stomach drops. “And you ran to him the minute I joined the team. Everything that I’ve told you this season, everything I’ve confided in you this season as my friend, you turned around and told him?” 

As Morgan more or less confirms your words, it feels like the bottom is falling out on your life. You swallow down the nausea rising in your throat, the burning feeling making it all worse. 

“Why would you do that? Why would you do that to me?” 

“Oh, mini Mitchell.” Andrew sighs, from behind you. “Always with that victim complex of yours.” 

-

“So is it true?” Andrew says with a grin as he pulls away, leaving his hands on Bradley’s shoulders. 

“Is what true?” 

“You and mini Mitchell, man! Did the two of you finally make it happen?” 

Bradley chuckles as he nods. “Yeah, yeah, she came with me tonight.” He takes a few steps back, nodding to you as he does. Andrew’s face lights up, hand outstretched as he does. 

“Mini Mitchell! How’ve you been?” Your eyes flicker down to his hand and back up to his face. 

“You really expect me to shake your hand, Andrew? Really, after everything?” 

His face falls, confusion taking over. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I remember the last thing you had to say to me not being very kind.” 

“Damn, it’s been like twenty years, can you not let that shit go? You hold a grudge as bad as Bradshaw. Then again, he’s fucking you, so I can kinda see why he let that go.” 

Your eyes narrow as they shoot over to Jameson. 

Why in the world was he choosing to get involved?

“Jameson, isn’t your wife cheating on you?” You ask, tilting your head. He falls silent, shrinking back into the couch. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.” 

-

You turn, spotting Andrew leaned up against his car. His trunk is open, where Ben and Sienna are sat, Paige next to them. Lucas is leaned up against the opposite side of the car. 

You shake your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m being ambushed in the parking lot of my own senior night.” You say miserably, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“Bradley has had one hell of a lot to say about you.” Lucas comments, folding his arms. 

“You guys used to be my friends.” 

“Kind of hard to be friends with someone as awful as you.” Paige responds. You can do nothing but look at them, tears already trickling down your face. 

This felt like betrayal in the worst way.

And it was all Bradley’s fault. 

“Look, the bottom line here, mini Mitchell, is that you’re just a bitch. You’ve done the worst things you could do to someone and you’ve never once taken accountability or responsibility for what you’ve done to him. You’ve never once apologized and you just expect us to let that all go?” Andrew heaves a dramatic sigh, pushing himself off his car. “Then again, everyone has always liked him more than we liked you. You’re like a leech we can’t get rid of. Life-sucking.” 

Your feet move before you give them permission, turning as your Dad calls out. Your tears are burning, same as your chest, as you slam your car door shut, throwing your bag into the back with little care as a sob bubbles out. 

-

“Whoa, the tension is high in here.” Ben jokes. 

Your throat grows tight at the sandy-haired boy, the shiny ring on Sienna’s finger. Bradley steps back, pressing a hand to your shoulder. 

April huffs. “This is what I get for having friends who can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.” 

Sienna laughs lightly, moving to give the girl a hug. The tightness in your throat blossoms into your chest as Sienna’s vision pivots to you. 

She says your name softly, offering you a smile. “Would it be wrong to give you a hug?” 

“Twenty years no apology from you and you want a hug.” 

Your voice crackles somewhere along the way as you cross your arms, hoping to protect yourself from her. 

“Don’t tell me you're still mad about that.” Ben says. 

“How could I not be? My best friend fucked my boyfriend while one of the people who raised me was lying in a hospital bed dying of cancer.” 

“Well, if you aren’t gonna put out sweetheart, you shouldn’t be surprised I found it somewhere else.” 

Your body fully recoils at Ben’s words, disgust ripping through you. 

“Fuck you. You have no idea what I’ve been through, how badly what you did fucked me up. I did not deserve that.” You say emphatically, tears tracking down your face. You wipe at them to little avail, before straightening up. “Fuck this, I’m a fucking one percent Navy pilot, I don’t deserve this-” 

“I mean, don’t you?” 

It all goes silent in the room as everyone looks at Paige. 

“I mean, it’s not exactly like the Navy’s fond of you. There’s a reason why your old team hated you so.” She says, a coy smile playing on her lips. “There’s a reason why that all played out the way it did. You’re no victim in all this, sweetheart.” 

“Paige, shut up.” Bradley’s words are sharp. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You know nothing.” 

She smirks. “I’d bargain I know a hell of a lot more than you do. And I’m sure that we’ll be able to talk about all of that, when you realize what the rest of us do that this won’t last-” 

“Okay, wait, that’s enough-” April intervenes, but it’s too late, you already shouldering past the people in the house. 

You’re trying to gulp for air when you finally make it outside, fighting off the sobs. 

Bradley’s only a few steps behind you, offering hurried apologies. You shake your head, desperately swallowing around the lump in your throat. 

“Please just take me home Bradley.” 

-

You’re unable to stop the flow of tears as you dial the number scrawled out in Ice’s handwriting on the scrap piece of paper. 

Ice had tracked down a number for “emergency purposes” though you aren't sure how. Still, now though, it didn’t matter as you sink to the floor of Ice’s study, unable to take it anymore. 

You hear the line come alive and a muffled, groggy “Hello?”, a voice you never thought you’d hear again. 

“Bradley.” You whimper. “I want you to come home. Please come home. I don’t want to fight any more. No one is gonna win here. Please, please, please God, please just come home.” 

You hiccup as your sobs catch up to you and you think you can hear him let out a breath from the other side. 

“Please B, I’m so sorry for whatever it is I did, please you have to believe me. Plea-”

The line goes dead.

-

“Why are you people always in my house?” 

Fanboy turns, grinning at you as he clutches the spatula. Bob is next to him, stirring something on the stove. Your eyes flash over to Javy, who’s sitting at the kitchen table. 

“You know when I gave you a key, this is not what I intended.” 

“We’re making you breakfast, at least try to be grateful.”

You roll your eyes, giving him a look before joining him at the kitchen table. 

“So how was the party last night?” Bob asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

You make a displeased sound in your throat, shaking your head. “Awful.”

“What happened?” 

“Just… stupid shit. A bunch of kids from my high school were there, including these two Navy brats I grew up with and one of them said something kind of fucked.” 

“What’d they say?” Bob asks curiously. 

“Just something to the extent that I deserved what I got from my old team.” 

Bob shakes his head while Fanboy pulls a face. 

“Where do you keep finding these people?” Javy asks incredulously. 

“They’re Bradley’s friends.” You say with a shrug, watching Bob and Fanboy turning back to the stove. 

You realize belatedly they’re making eggs benedict, a favorite of yours. 

“What did they say?” Javy asks, his voice a little lower. 

You shake your head, signaling to him that you don’t want to talk about it. You chew your lip for a few minutes before you lower your voice, watching Bob and Fanboy carefully. 

“I did some digging last night on the girl who said that, where she’d been stationed where she might have heard about that.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Javy nod, showing you that he’s listening. “Her brother has always worked as an engineer, followed in their Dad’s footsteps, but she went a different route and worked in communications.” You swallow, looking at Javy. “She was there, on that aircraft carrier when we went down. She knew what they did.” You all but whisper as the pieces fall into place on his face. “It’s all still following me.”

-

The dinky little cell he’d gotten when moved out to UVA buzzed against his cheek. He blinks a few times, barely lifting his head up from the pillow to glance at the screen. 

He didn’t recognize the number, but he knew the 619 area code meant it was a San Diego number. 

He felt a tug in his gut against his better judgment and answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Bradley.” She whimpers. “I want you to come home. Please come home. I don’t want to fight any more. No one is gonna win here. Please, please, please God, please just come home.” 

Please don’t cry, he thinks. Please don’t cry, because if you cry, I’ll cry-

She hiccups from the other line and his chest begins to ache. 

He lets out a breath, mind whirring as he searches for something to say to her to make it all better. 

“Please B, I’m so sorry for whatever it is I did, please you have to believe me. Plea-”

And then he remembers.

His fingers move before his heart realizes it, ending the call. 

The screen goes dark as he slumps back against his pillows.

-

You hear the Bronco before you see it and you hear Bradley before you see him. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast, the boys long gone. 

You pause in your movements, as you wait for Bradley to say something, but he doesn’t. 

“B?” You toss out cautiously, setting the soapy sponge down. “Is that you?” 

He appears in the kitchen a moment later, looking haggard, though you can’t say that you probably fare much better at the moment. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers hoarsely. “So sorry.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as you wipe your hands off on a dishtowel, walking over to him. 

“What? What are you sorry for?” 

“I’m sorry that I hung up on you that night. You were in so much pain and I- I had no idea how awful they were to you. I had no idea what they had been saying and- and- and- here you were asking for help and I just ignored you. I was being selfish and I-” 

“Bradley.” You whisper, reaching out for him. “What- Where is any of this even coming from? I’m not angry at you for that any more, you know that.” 

“But I’m angry at me. And you should be too. What I did was fucked up and you just forgave me-” 

“I did not forgive you overnight, you know that.” Your eyes search his, finally deciding to take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “B, I’m- I’m kind of lost. Where is any of this coming from?” 

He heaves, his chest shuddering. “April called me this morning. Apologized profusely for how last night went, that she knew better than to stick you in that room with those people, that she should’ve known how badly they hurt you. But I didn’t- I didn’t know about them-” His breath keeps catching on his words and your concern grows. “I didn’t know about them showing up at your senior night.” He finally lets out in a hushed whisper. “I didn’t know.” 

Your face falls as you squeeze his hand. “Let’s- let’s go sit on the couch.” 

Bradley nods and you follow him out to the living room. He wipes at his eyes before sitting on the couch, you following behind him. 

“I didn’t know what Andrew said. I had no idea they’d shown up there to taunt you. I- I- I- never would have let them get away with saying it.” 

“They weren’t the only ones saying it.” You whisper. “Bradley, they just repeated what the whole school was.” 

“And it was all my fault-” 

“Bradley.” You say sternly. “I’m not going to sit here and say you don’t carry some responsibility in how it all played out. But I forgave you for all that. Neither of us were kind to each other in those years, you have to know that. I carry just as much responsibility as you do. And you’ve apologized, recognized that you hurt me. I’m not mad anymore.” 

“So you can forgive me, but not them?” 

“For the record, none of them except Morgan has ever offered me an apology. So I don’t know why I'd forgive them for things they aren't sorry for. Second of all, they have done and said things to me that you would never dream of doing and that’s what sets you apart. And yeah, maybe they’re right that I do know how to hold a grudge. I know that I hold what Ben and Sienna did to me a little too close to my heart, that them turning their backs on me cut deep. But I don’t hold that against you.” 

Your fingers rest in Bradley’s curls as he sniffs. “I should’ve been there-” 

“You’re here now. That’s what matters to me.” You take his hand again with your free one, gently kissing his knuckles as you do so. “I love you.” 

His eyes water before he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing. “I love you too.” 

You smile softly at him, pressing another kiss to his hand. “I know.” 

The two of you sit there for a few minutes before you sigh. “Fanboy and Bob broke into my house to make eggs benedict this morning and there’s some leftovers I just put in the fridge. I can warm you up some if you haven’t eaten yet-” 

“I don’t want you to think that we aren’t going to last.” 

You pause, halfway up from the couch. “What?” 

“What Paige said last night. That they think we aren’t going to last. I don’t think that and I don’t want you to think that either.” 

You falter, sitting back down on the couch. “I-” 

“It was bullshit and it’s not what I believe. I want us to last, more than anything else in this whole world. I know it’s only been just over a year but-” Bradley takes a shuddering breath. You’re my best friend in the whole world. I want you as long as you want me here and I know we’ve had our shit over the last year, we’ve had our fights and our people from the past but I don’t care about any of that as long as it’s you and me.” 

“It’s always gonna be you and me.” You pause before sighing dramatically. “Well, maybe you, me, and a dog. If that’s okay.” 

The corners of his lips twitch upwards, giving you a ghost of a smile. “Perhaps.”

[tayloralison]

I am a (white) international fan, and her behavior in the last year… made me question if I could still openly say ‘hey I like Taylor Swift’ because she made some choices that go against my moral and ethical code (if I make sense).

Dating a proudly declared sexist and misogynistic man and not taking accountability for that but instead guilt-trip the fans after they pointed this out… not cool. Hanging out and being friends with a Trump supporter who received a personal shout out from Trump himself after she said she was going to stand with LGBTQ+ people and marginalised communities… the picture that is being painted is not great.

She’s not 18, she’s 34. She’s capable of discerning ‘good people’ from ‘bad’ ones. She is aware of her power and her image. She should be able to use it wisely. But she doesn’t.

In my opinion she doesn’t care. And honestly it’s a slap in the face, because she should be aware of her privileges as a wealthy white cis woman and should use those to help the people who don’t have them (like she said she would do in Miss Americana - was it a fever dream?). Like… it’s not normal that an international fan is more concerned by her behaviour than women (the majority white) in the US?! Like… do they watch the news? Do they read the papers?!

I’m legit scared and they… don’t care?! WTF

she's also old enough to understand (and it's something she's said herself when she needed help in the industry) is that just because someone is nice to you, doesn't mean they aren't a terrible human being. just because her friends are nice to her, someone who is white and rich, and made her feel welcomed, doesn't mean that friend is nice to others, let's say those less privileged and of color

[finnickfan8]

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x reader

Genre: high school AU, fluff, smut

Summary: Peeta is the same age as Finnick along with the other tributes and they’re all 18 year old seniors in high school! Reader and Peeta have crushes on each other and one thing leads to another.

Warnings: Smut, language

Your dad, Haymich Abernathy, was a victor. This meant that you were one of the richest families in District 12. Your mom, Effie Trinket, was very supportive of everything you wanted to do. This meant that you mention wanting something or wanting to do something and the next week it was done. This was how you had played at least ten different sports throughout the years and had thousands of toys. Your dad, however, was more of a disciplinarian in a sense. He wanted your people skills to be top notch in case you ever were reaped, leading to the compromise of pageants. It was a way where you could show off your talents, your mom could dress you up, and your dad could coach you on speaking.

Your walls were filled with crowns, medals, and trophies. The soft glisten of your triumphs were sometimes blinding, but in a good way. Glitter and rhinestones lined not only your dresses, but also your future.

Your grades were pretty good, they have to be for pageants. Everything you did just screamed pageant girl; you were popular, you were very feminine, and you were adored. Everyone loved who they thought you were, your performance. You had everything, but a boyfriend.

Your best friends were living the life with their cliques and boyfriends. Well, not Johanna, everyone thought the two of you were dating for a while. You didn’t mind, she agreed that y’all would get married if you’re both single at thirty, but for now you had other plans. You had had a crush on the shortest captain of the football team, Peeta Mellark.

Peeta was always at your house, hanging out with your dad, and you always ran your pageant walks for him. Katniss was also over frequently, but less now that she was caught with Gale in the broom closet. Katniss was your friend and she knew you liked Peeta, but that never really got in the way.

Your first period, you sat between Johanna and Annie, but behind Peeta. You slowly tapped the blonde boy on the shoulder, Peeta jumps, turning his head slowly. “Yeah Y/N?” The attractive man smiled, twirling his pencil.

“Dad wants you over for dinner tonight if thats okay with you.” You gently smile at him. You glance at his hand, watching the pencil swirl rhythmically in his burly hands.

“Yeah, of course it’s okay.” The male notices you staring and chuckles internally. “Six still?” You nod, glancing in to his puppy dog eyes. Today he was wearing a white cotton shirt and some brown cargo pants. The shirt was baggy but tight on his arms, making his biceps bulge gloriously. The purity of the white fit him like a puzzle. Although 18, Peeta was less tainted than his peers. Peeta had never had a real kiss, only an on camera one with Katniss in the games. Compared to the desperately promiscuous gremlins at your school, Peeta was an angel; pure, sweet, and radiating light.

You smooth over the hem of your skirt, nervously pleating it back up again before repeating. Although a moderate temperature in your house, you felt cold in your core, your abdominal muscles contracting. The frigidity of the room faded as you flapped your hands up and down to shake the nerves. Tonight you were going to catch Peeta’s attention. You curtly head downstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood floors, your hair flowing swimmingly behind you as you accumulated some speed in your step.

Peeta had every girl in school fawning over him now that he was rich. Love notes were a daily for the young adult, nevertheless he diffidently declined all of his admirers and vixens. One thing was on his mind; becoming Haymich’s son officially. By that he intended on marrying you. Admittedly, it was a little fast for him to already have images of you in a white dress. Peeta paid no mind to the fact that the two of you weren’t even dating yet, he wanted to make you the happiest girl ever.

This is why his breath stopped at your elegant waltz down the grand staircase in the middle of the Abernathy house. Your eyes traced his figure, his dress shirt and slacks doing it no justice. You had seen what you would call “sporty Peeta” in all of his glory; pads on, jersey raised slightly revealing his glistening abs, tight white snap in football pants, and messy wet hair sticking to his sculpted face. You had much discernment as to what he hid under the button up.

You sat next to Peeta, your perfectly manicured nails pressing against the table to provide mental relief. Your dad signals for you to eat as soon as your well adorned mother joins the three of you. Effie had always been a doting mother and to your dismay, an oversharing one too. This entailed anything from her sharing baby pictures to strangers to inviting random classmates of yours to your pageants.

“Y/N here is participating in the ‘Miss Career’ pageant next week, isn’t she just so talented?” Your mother started the conversation out with an awkward gloat about ‘her precious Y/N.’ Peeta looked you dead in the eye, boring in to your soul before nodding at your enthusiastic mother. “She’s about to make an appearance on the big screen for the next Hunger Games if she wins. As a prize, you get to be the opener for the games.” Effie claps her eager hands.

“Oh I know, Y/N is quite beautiful.” Peeta smirks at you, searching for a reaction on your now thunderstruck face. “She’s also one of the smartest girls in our class.” Your father lets an approving smile grace his lips, nodding at you. “Would you guys mind if Y/N helped me on some assignments after dinner?” a chorus of ‘no’ from your parents rang melodically through his willing ears. The dinner got progressively more lively before coming to a halt via Peeta’s ‘academic drive.’

You lead the older to your room, softly taking his calloused hand in yours. The shine of silver crowns blinded your study buddy’s doe eyes, “Your mom wasn’t kidding.” He mused, taking a seat on your bed. “I guess i’m not the only one who thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in Panem”

You whip your head towards him, “Is that what you tell all your fangirls?” You roll your eyes narked at his roster of women who would be happy with him simply sighing in their direction.

“No, actually.” Peeta motions for you to sit before gently cradling your face. “I tell them that I have a girl I’ve liked for a very long time.” The warmth of his touch was nice on his rough yet weirdly velvet hands.

“Who? Katniss? What you said on T.V. seemed pretty legit.” You leaned closer on the last few words to emphasize them. Your breath warmed his lips, his large lands moved to brush them through your hair.

“What I said, was about you Y/N, or should I say Miss Americana?” That was your latest title that you had just won the week before. Enamored with how Mr. Capitol had found out, you put your clammy hands over his.

“How’d you know?” The weary words cracked past your lips like an impossible feat. A smile greeted you from the blonde athlete’s face.

“I was there.” You haphazardly tosses caution to the wolves, pulling him in to kiss you. His buttery soft lips pressed back against yours, lovingly. “Wow. I never figured the Y/N Abernathy would be the one kissing me.” He teased before pulling you in again. You broke the kiss, much to Peeta’s complaints, to go lock your door.

You continue to lock your lips and let them dance in feverish passion. Your hands roamed over the silk of his freshly pressed charcoal dress shirt. Peeta’s ready hands start to unbutton his own shirt, helping you slide it off of his broad shoulders as you start on your own garment. His taught muscles are hungry for your cherished touch. You slide your now unbuttoned blouse off your body.

Peeta wasted no time before kissing on your neck, nearing your round bosom. “May I?” Peeta never wants to make you uncomfortable, so he insists on affirmative consent. You simply not in response, although you seem just as needy as him, a nod wasn’t enough. “Use your words please Lovely.” His voice isn’t demanding, but it’s firm and strict yet caring.

“Yes, please Peeta. I’ve liked you for so long please I want you to do this.” You pleaded before he finally took your red bra off, your breasts hardening in the crisp air of the room. He slowly trails love bites starting at your neck. ‘Love bites’ was the only way to describe the marks he left. There was no feeling of possessiveness or even lust in them, just a physical expression of how much Peeta loved his woman.

Peeta suckled on your tender nipple softly, making sure to be gentle with his ‘Love.’ You let out a soft breathy moan as his sucking gets a little rougher. “Mm Peeta you’re doing so good.” you praise quietly. Blood flushes to Peeta’s now hard member at the praise.

“I don’t really know how to say this, but can I please eat you out?” Peeta had always wanted to make you feel good and your first time was going to be the best, he’d do whatever it took. You continue to moan at touches to your hips.

“Please Peeta, Please do that.” Your wish is Peeta’s command, he hangs on your every word. He hikes up your skirt, leaving kisses on your now soaked underwear. He basks in the delight of being between your thighs. He pushes your panties aside, taking a long strip up the middle and around the outside. The taste of your arousal was intoxicating, addicting, his new vice.

With a pointed shape, his tongue slowly drags in a zig zag pattern, flicking his tongue to your swollen clit. The skill in his mouth elicits a wanton moan to escape from your puffy lips. His tongue draws patterns and shapes in to your greedy heat.

Your hand flies down to Peeta’s hair, tugging gently. “Oh my goodness, Peeta!” you cry, thank goodness for thick walls. He slowly adds his ring finger in to your soaked hole. You squeeze your thighs gently around him, writhing under his skilled touch.

“Feeling good, Princess?” You moan in response to the nickname. He speeds up his finger in your hole, curling upwards. You nod at his question, earning a stern look from the older. He speeds his finger up, “Words, Lovely.”

“Yes oh my, yes!” You cry, wiggling your hips up at him as he adds a second finger. You wince at the stretch but are okay with it after a second. Peeta leans in to lick your clit, causing a build. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers. He could tell you were close.

“Please Y/N, please let me make you feel good.” He begged. You whined, needing more as you bucked your hips at him. Your edge was near. “Come on Baby, cum on my fingers. You got it, you’re doing so good.” With that you came undone, liquid coating his fingers. You panted and looked at him with half lidded eyes. A large hand rubbed at your thighs lovingly, “Would you like to continue? We can just cuddle and watch something if you would like.”

“No, I need you inside me now please.” You pulled him in for a desperate kiss. You put your hands were on the back of his head/ neck, pulling him in for more. He got the idea and started to undo his belt without breaking the kiss. You both gasped for air as he slid his tip in your slick, swiping it back and forth. He slid his tip in and paused.

He slid in inch by inch until he bottomed out. Before he started to move, he noticed blood run down your thigh. “You’re a virgin?” he held your hand as you nodded. He kissed your forehead tenderly, transferring the warmth of his heart to yours. The pain caused by his huge length and the stretch of your puckered hole. Then he started to move, giving his all to you like you’re giving to him.

His eager hands palmed at your breasts, his girth filling you out in a way like no other. You never knew your first time could feel so euphoric. The Brobdingnagian amount pleasure you felt right in that moment made all of the pain worth it. All of the waiting to have Peeta in this position had paid off. Call you a prognosticator because you knew you could have him twirled around your finger eventually.

Peeta put your legs over his shoulders so he could hit your spot better. His big hands pressed down softly on to your stomach, feeling himself moving within your tight walls. He was besotted with the mesmerizing sensation of you clenching round him, sucking him in subsequently to his ravaging thrusts.

“Peeta” You groaned before pulling him in, syncing the thrusts of his hips with your mouth. You lean up to mark his muscular neck. You left sloppy kisses atop of him. As Peeta starts to get close, he tweaks at your perky nipples. You’re both nearing your edge. “Peeta you make me feel so good!” you scream, clawing at his bare back. He flipped you around, your knees on the expensive comforter, your fleshy ass up so Peeta could see the fullness of your cheeks.

He threw his head back in ecstasy as he thrust up in to your muscly heat. You needed closeness to your lover, you kept your hands behind your back. He took a them and held them, rubbing his thumb over your white knuckles. He left small kisses on your neck, pressing his affection in to you. The intimacy in the acts sent both of you to the edge of your climax.

“Shit babe, close.” He mutters to you. As you cum, he pulls out and cums in to a condom that you didn’t know he had on. Your legs were still quaking when he went to your attached bathroom to go get you a towel.

As Peeta wiped you off, he kissed your inside of your thigh. “You’re.” kiss. “So.” kiss. “Perfect.” Then he placed a kiss on your lips. Peeta had his own room in your house, as did Katniss, because their families usually spent holidays and other events with yours when they weren’t doing so well. Peeta slid his boxers back on and headed to his room, grabbing a shirt and a water out of the mini fridge that Effie constantly restocked. Peeta headed back to your room, giving you the shirt and water.

Peeta searched your drawers to find a sports bra, figuring it would be more comfortable. “I’ll go in to the bathroom so you can change.” He started towards the restroom, pausing at the door fran before turning his head. “Drink some of the water, call me when I can come out, I’ll go get you a snack once you’re done.” You gave Peeta time to wash up before calling him back in.

“I’m not hungry.” You proclaim before remaking your bed and collecting the discarded clothes. Peeta makes you go sit back down, continuing the clean up. You sip on your water, observing. “Would you like to cuddle, or do you want to be left alone?”

You didn’t even think, “Stay, please.” You pat your bed and climb in. You let him put new boxers on before he climbs in next to you. Peeta pulls you in to his chest before handing you the remote so you can pick a movie.

Peeta cranes his neck down to look at you. “Y/N, would you maybe want to be my girlfriend?” Your golden angel boy asked. You shoot your head up to look at him.

“Duh” You responded before pecking him on the cheek and pulling him closer to your now warm body.

“I can’t believe the queen of pageantry herself is my girlfriend.” You roll your eyes playfully at the comment.

“Whatever Mr. Heartbreaker.” You tease back before he kisses you. What a perfect night.

[obxologies]

𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 | 𝘒𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦

There were few people that truly mattered to Rafe Cameron. The first being his younger sisters, Sarah and Wheezie. They were really all Rafe had while growing up. Although they annoyed him sometimes, they made him feel appreciated at the end of the day unlike their father, Ward Cameron.

The one other person that truly mattered to Rafe was y/n y/l/n.

Sarah and y/n became best friends during their sophomore year of high school. They met in their algebra class that Sarah had been failing. She chose y/n to be the one she asked to tutor her, and though Sarah never figured out how to do algebra, the two did stay friends and grew closer than ever.

Rafe had been interested in y/n from the moment he saw her. She was beautiful and he couldn't believe she was real. Her eyes you couldn't look away from, her lips that he wanted to melt into, and her soft skin that he wanted to kiss every. single. inch. of. She was perfect.

He couldn't figure out why, but for some reason she chose him. This beautiful, kindhearted angel had chosen him of all people, and he couldn't have been more thankful. She was everything to him, and always would be. She kept him grounded and levelheaded. Without her, he was no good. So why did the universe have to be so cruel and try to take her away from him?

y/n had met her, Kiara Carrera, a pogue, at a party at the boneyard. Kiara had helped her pick up trash that had been thrown on the ground by other teens. She admired y/n's courage to speak out about such a topic to teenagers who couldn't care less. How could she not go up and talk to a girl like her?

Kiara was everything Rafe wasn't. She cared about the environment then way y/n did and was the one to wake up with her early in the mornings to walk the beach and pick up trash. She was more educated on the topic of y/n's rants than he was and could hold the conversation with her.

It was really only a matter of time before y/n started to fall for Kiara, too, but she still loved Rafe. What was she to do? Who was she to chose? Rafe Cameron, The Heartbreak Prince, who turned good just for her, or Kiara Carrera, the kindhearted, courageous, Miss Americana?

[wagingmywarsbehindmyface]

hi 🥰 what are your favourite and least favourite songs from each Taylor’s album and why? ✨ <- i need you to do this too!

I haven’t seen that one coming, for real! 😂 Thank you, Poppy ❤️😌

so, i’m a terribly awful Swiftie for saying this but I despise DEBUT 💚 I really am. I couldn’t decide which song is my least favourite in reverse of situation when trying to choose fave one, so i figured the track I tolerate is A Place in This World. And the rest of the album is on the other side, I’m sorry 😅

Fearless 💛 This album is much more likeable! I like: Fearless, Love Story, You Belong with Me, The Way I Love You, Untouchable, Don’t You, Mr. Perfectly Fine! Those are bops, sometimes sad nevertheless I like them a lot! See? I redeemed myself 😂 Now to the next part! I’m not the biggest fan of Superstar and White Horse 🫢 These are not clicking with me 🙁

Speak Now 💜 I must say this album grew on me a loooot, A LOT! I look at it in a different way than I used to be, and now it’s one of my faves 😄 Speak Now the song defender ok? I like all of the songs beside… Last Kiss… I know, ok, I KNOW. May I choose the date of crucification? And Ours and Superman, I feel those two were fillers of the album Taylor needed at the time 😕

RED ❤️ Alright, this one will be super tough, because it is a really, really good album and it deserves the Grammy of course! 🥹❤️ State of Grace, Red, Treacherous, ATW (10min version), The Last Time, Holy Ground, Lucky One, Sad Beautiful Tragic, IBYTAM, Nothing New and Forever Winter are the most magical part of this album for me 🤧 The least… well, I’m not that much of a supporter of Ed Sheeran’s feat. on this album, so Everything Has Changed and Run duo is a no. Also that remix of Girl At Home, no, thank you. Stay Stay Stay it’s just meh I guess? 😅😅

1989 🩵 IT’S "MY” ALBUM! and I absolutely love eeeverything about it! It’s a no skip one, I can’t choose the song I dislike. I love all of them! 🥹🩵

REPUTATION 🖤 Aaaaahh! This one, I love memories occurring when I think of days when this one was released 🥹 I definitely like Ready For It, Delicate, Don’t Blame Me, LWYMMD, IDSB, Getaway Car, I would like KoMH more if it was more rock-ish? And CIWYWI 🖤 The least: So It Goes, DWOHT, End Game, TIWWCHNT 🤓 This album is legendary, right, but now I see some cringe about it?

Lover 🩷 My fave is definitely the title track, Lover! It’s such a sweet pop ballad ✨ Next ones are: The Archer, Cruel Summer, DBTC, Paper Rings - silly cute song 😌 Cornelia Street, London Boy (shut up, Pops 😂❤️), False God, the saxophone okaaay? And Daylight! The least fave are Afterglow 🫢, Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince 😅 It’s a solid album, fun, important album in Taylor’s career and I will defend it forever ✨

FOLKLORE 🩶 I CAN’T! I DENY! I LOVE THIS ALBUM!

EVERMORE 🤎 SAME! NO SKIP! Closure defender!

Midnights 💙 Well, there are songs I adore and adore a little bit less for sure. Let’s start with first ones: Lavender Haze (I remember listening to first beats for the first time ✨🥹) Anti-Hero, YOYOK (although it took time!), Midnight Rain (same…), Maroon, SOTB but with Lana’s verse 🥴, Vigilante Shit, Karma, Labyrinth, Sweet Nothing, Mastermind, GREAT WAR!! Paris is such a fun track! High Infidelity and Dear Reader ✨ When it comes to least: BTTWS 🥹 I don’t listen to this that much. The rest of songs are great but not my favourites.

[clarabowmp3]

The problem with some fans is that they think they are in charge of her life and relationships! She is already a grown woman and knows exactly what she is doing, no one needs to tell her to do what she doesn't want to do! Everyone has their own opinion! I found the way some people acted in relation to the relationship she had with Matty so ridiculous, just because of his actions. She clearly made it clear that she doesn't care who talks about them and she loved him and we all knew it! She made a song calling out to her own fans and many don't care about that! I don't like Travis and I'm not going to let her go because of him, especially because she herself will find out that he is not what she thinks he is! She is the kind of person who will only believe when she sees with her own eyes what her boyfriend is doing to her! Besides, she and no one else are perfect, everyone makes mistakes!

Okay I’m sorry but I rlly don’t understand takes like this one. The only people ‘telling her what to do’ (like for eg begging her to break up with matty Healy via social media etc) were the rlly diehard/parasocial swifties. Yes, Miss Americana touched on the pressures she was facing from her family, team, the general public etc but the whole point of the documentary was how she’s overcome them! Esp in today’s day and age, seeing all that she’s done and achieved since then shows just how much autonomy she has, as would be expected of someone in her position.

I don’t know your reasons for finding ppl having an issue with matty Healy ridiculous, because from my perspective it doesn’t seem ridiculous? At least in the case of matty Healy, ones actions/behaviours is a pretty good indicator of their beliefs and personality imo, so it feels justified to “judge” taylor/hold her accountable for choosing to associate with a person like him. To be clear, I am not blaming her for Matty’s faults, he is a despicable person in his own right, but she made the choice to voluntarily associate herself with him, even going so far as to double down in songs like but daddy I love him.

And you’re right that everyone makes mistakes - I’m all for people getting second chances and learning and growing, but even now it feels debatable whether or not taylor has rlly learnt from the mistake that was matty Healy. She didn’t rlly change her tune abt him until he broke her heart, and all her ‘revenge’ songs abt him are her being mad abt him ghosting rather than his many other worse qualities.

As for ‘not letting her go’ just cuz of Travis/matty, I think it all boils down to what would make you let her go, which is different for every fan. For me, it was a multitude of things compounding (the Matty Healy thing, her private jet emissions (even tho there is nuance to it), her excessive variant releases) because these things signalled to me that her personality had changed/I don’t agree with her current traits, values or priorities. It no longer feels the same because every day I find less and less things to admire abt her, if that makes sense.

[alantea87]

Two weeks in with a Nokia flip phone and no social media...

And I'm feeling better. Honestly, though. I do not miss social media. Especially the control it had over my emotions, lol. However, I do deeply miss memes. Memes were my oxygen. And I do miss the casual interactions with old and new friends on Insta. Facebook has been permanently deleted and my Instagram has been deactivated - not sure what next. But I am indeed enjoying my low-tech life using a Nokia flip.

New toy (pictured: Sennheiser HD599, affordable audiophile open-back wired headphones)...

How am I filling my time? MUSIC. Like the good old days. Like, listening to music in lossless with a wired head set kind of old days. These HD599s are a cult fave in the audiophile community for their accurate audio presentation, wide soundstage and resolution. Got them for £157, RRP £199. Basically it's like listening to your fave artists in the studio with them, as long as you feed them a decent source (I'm using Apple Music, lossless + hi ress lossless). Technically I'm not using a proper DAC, just Apple's lighting to 3.5mm adapter (a secret DAC by Apple) for my iPad Pro to drive these HD599s. The sound is out of this world. I'm hearing things in tracks I've not heard before. My current fave artist for about two years now is Zach Bryan (alt-country, americana - https://www.zachbryan.com/music). He's the only artist who can currently make me cry and that says alot.

Note-taking with pen and paper...

I have now resorted to my mini Muji notebook and pen jot down to dos, shopping lists and ideas. My Nokia doesn't have a note taking app, but it does have a simple calendar that I really like. My handwriting is awful, though. Over ten years of smartphone use would do that to a person.

My current EDC (every day carry) is as follows...

a) Nokia 2660 Flip, b) iPad, AirPods Pro 2, c) Muji notepad + gel pen, d) Kindle, e) on gym days... Apple Watch SE (for music)

SMS...

You'd think texting is horrendous on a feature phone, but suprisingly I would say it's very doable. Especially if predictive text is available, which it is on the Nokie 2660 Flip. Fine, you can't type quickly but the tactility of the keypad is lovely. It really feels like you're putting in more effort in your messages than a touch screen.

Less 'digital blur'...

I know such a term is used in the photo-editing world, but now I use it to describe my experience when I am presented with too much choice on streaming services or other digital media. Everything is blurring into one digital blob. With the exception of music streaming (I love the choice and I go through phases of liking certain genres/artists), I really do miss CDs and Blu-rays. I've now reconnected my 10 year old Blu-ray player to my 1080p projector to tap back into my Blu-ray collection. Thankfully, it's a good time to get back into them, as you can buy preowned Blu-rays for a couple quid on eBay including postage. You can't beat the picture quality and bitrate. Not to mention actually owning a physical copy no streaming service can take away from you, lol.

Less noise...

As I've deleted WhatsApp (the Nokia 2660 isn't compatible with WhatsApp, only the US version of it aka 2680 Flip), I've not been in any group chats for over two weeks and it's been bliss. Yes, that also includes my family ones. I do not miss them. The total lack of noifications on my Nokia (apart from calls, SMS and calendar events) has contributed to lower levels of general anxiety and distractions. I am now able to fully concentrate during a TV show or even when listening to an album. I am fully present and immersed. Even my conversations with real people have improved greatly; I am more patient and empathetic. Mainly because I am not half-scrolling on my phone anymore. Gosh, smartphones have really killed off real human connection.

Do I miss my iPhone...?

I think if you can have a healthy relationship with a smarthphone (not using social media, no doom scrolling etc), I think they pose as a vital tool in the modern world. But as I do not have that level of self control, my Nokia was the intervention I needed. Two weeks in I don't actually miss it. I miss how it was a tool to allow me to self-soothe (not in a healthy way). So breaking up with my smartphone was probably for the best. It's made me get comfortable with being uncomfortable. Awkward silences, quiet stares into space, being one with your thoughts. Just like the good old days.

Where is my iPhone?

It's tucked away in my drawer, fully charged with £5 loaded onto a seperate sim inserted in it to be used PAYG. It is only to be used in emergencies or when I am travelling to new distant lands e.g. South London, lol. Literally it just has Google Maps, Uber and email. Not even music. I don't want to see my iPhone as an entertainment device (I am not against digital entertainment, but I am against small smartphone devices that hijack your attention all day/night).

Am I bored?

Yes and no. Yes, because I loved the short-form media that exists on Instagram (spending sometimes hours per evening consuming it). And keeping up with my favourite meme accounts, musicians and rugby teams on there, too. But no, because I've just gone back to classic ways on keeping oneself entertained... music and movies.

Who am I texting?

Literally, just three close friends I've known for over 15 years. No body else.

Will I keep using my Nokia 2660 Flip?

Yes, for the time being. I think I found a compromise with using smart tech. Just not using a smartphone has been crucial to this compromise, as it has literally improved my mental health in only two weeks. All this extra time and energy has allowed me to focus on therapy (I have an amazing therapist I speak to weekly) and addressing key life challanges I have been avoiding for so long.

-

More posts to come,

Love, Alan. x

[winterrhayle]

Ive been watching you and Bea go back and forth making each other rank Taylor albums and Im going to miss it SO MUCH Could you two rank the taylor swift tour videos please? I love looking at you guys' takes on things (even if yours are just complimenting every song and Bea is the one who knows how to actually criticise things 💀) love you guys <3 - an anonymous observer😉💗

TYSM :((((( SOBBING LY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! @deprivedmusicaljunkie look we've been percieved ! anon ur slight diss at me for not being able to criticise things is KILLING ME HAHAHHAHAHA (ur right though)

okayy heres my tour ranking (note that there isnt an official tour video for red OR eras so this probs affects my ranking,,, more for red than eras bc i see eras content every single day online anyway)

speak now world tour - okay i may be biased because this is my favourite album,, but even if it wasnt this would be her best tour (in my opinion),, i feel like in her old concerts she was so theatrical, and parts of it kinda looked like a full broadway production,, also the iconic elements like the lyrics on the arm, also shout out to the live album recording of this bc i listen to it soooo much and its amazing and perfect and show stopping etc etc im literally gonna list a bunch of iconic moments right here: THE HAUNTED BELL, the fireworks during dear john, the koi fish guitar with the light up tree, the gold fringe dress (DROP EVERYTHING NOW) the ballgown, just the wholle thing is the best thing i have ever seen

eras tour - this tour actually is killing me with all of the nostalgia watching her sing through and acknowledge all of her old albums and past selves (except debut, rip😔). and i especially love all of the details from past concerts she has (like the fearless spins, the sparkly & koi guitars, the over head hand heart) and also the new visuals for existing tours (like the old taylors in glass cages for rep) AND the visuals for the albums that hadnt been toured before (lover, folklore, evermore, midnights) i just think that she really did her albums justice (again, apart from debut☠️) and its insane that the show is so long 3+ hours

reputation stadium tour - karyn the snake is the coolest thing ive ever seen. also the ready for it intro with the hooded bodysuit outfit is ICONIC,,, i love the choreo on this tour, like the part of i did something bad where taylor gets lifted up like a cheerleader (AHHHHHH) and i love the quiet long live / new years day moment on the piano,, its so nice

the red tour - like i said before, there isnt a tour movie for this one so i dont know as much about it, but i loveeee how fun it is, i love the ringleader outift and circus theme for the closing song, we are never ever getting back toghether (my favourite part of the show) and i love the unnecessary hairflips during all too well😭

the 1989 world tour - this tour feels like her biggest one (even though it isnt), its like the most pop artist thing ever, its less theatre-production like than any of her other tours and it feels less personal? that being said its obviously very iconic, im forever obsessed with the wildest dreams/enchanted mashup, and that one out of the woods bodysuit that she only wore once for some reason, + the FOREVER iconic rock version of wanegbt BUT THE WAY THE TOUR MOVIE IS EDITED IS SOOOO ANNOYING LIKE IT SWITCHES TO A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE EVERY 2 SECONDS😭 anyway i really do appreciate this tour bc taylor really did give it everything she had, and looking at the miss americana documentary, u can tell it was really hard to have put on that show with what she was going through

fearless tour - this is ranked last but i actually really like this one, its cute. her vocals werent as good as they are currently but idc because this show was so funny,, it had the iconicccc throwing of the red chairs in forever & always and shoudlve said no in the rain!!!!!!!!

[luvrodite]

ok i meant to ask this when i asked abt what songs remind you of jason, but what are y’all’s (jay-ro) songs ??? im very curious but also really like your music taste lol

omg i’m so excited let me tell you!!!! disclaimer though most of these r probably taylor songs so they’re less varied than the jason songs hahaha

style because it’s one of my favourite songs ever and me and him never go out of style !! i’ve loved him for a good long while he’s just part of my psyche at this point so. we never go out of style!! it’s so silly but i love it sm it’s such a fun song

miss americana and the heartbreak prince idk something about it….you know i adore you i’m crazier for you than i was at 16….it’s been a long time coming….the way the song makes me feel like i’m running towards something…it’s me and him forever….

invisible string and it’s nice to have a friend. being connected through the years (even if you didn’t know each other) i’m such a sucker for that connection existing through time through space against all odds. the sound of both songs too…screaming crying throwing up

chemtrails over the country club. nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter??? hello???? on the run with your love…

peppers. hehe. it’s just such a sexy song and i want to be like angelina jolie or whatever the song says. i want to get on my knees. he’s so dreamy.

what once was by her’s. just. the sound of it. the one part where it’s all instrumental (?) and it sounds so romantic nostalgic cinematic!!!!!! it’s for me to look up at him in the sunlight and be in love.

love me like you used to by lord huron. just. the lyrics. it makes me go insane bc it could so be applicable to jason coming back from the dead. ‘i curse the goddamn day that i went and left you’ WHAT IF I WENT INSANE. idk me and keke talked about this but the betrayal of being left behind and then him literally dying on top of it….

delicate. ’MY REPUTATION’S NEVER BEEN WORSE SO YOU MUST LIKE ME FOR ME’ this is both a daddy’s money!jason and reader song but daddy’s money!reader is also part of me so. it is also a jay-ro song.

i think there’s more but these are all that come to mind at the moment!!! thank you for letting me ramble on about this lilia 😭❤️

[goldendiie]

ok i'm going to be an adult and give a little explanation as to why i've been missing for three months now. under the cut. heart.

BEFORE ANY OF YOU PANIC. I'm not quitting. I'm not saying goodbye.

I'm going to preface and say that I have been writing sarge/fillmore fanfic since I was fourteen years old. I am turning twenty-one at the end of the month. This December marks my seventh year of running this blog-- almost all of my teenage years were devoted to making cars fandom content.

I've realized, only recently, that I've trapped myself into a box by doing this. It was fun, for the first couple of years; I would just write whatever the hell I wanted, I would take requests, I would do anything. And then, once I started working on The Third Blink, and studying the 1960s, I realized that history was something I wanted to do professionally. I finished TB, and then I started working passively on Americana. I wanted to fully encompass the historical narrative of the peace movement, and make the argument that it self-destructed itself. More than anything, I wanted to spread knowledge. This is not to say that I’m not still having fun-- I have a blast doing this, and I always always always love talking to you guys about the AU. It's wonderful to know that I've created such an active and interested group based solely on the pursuit of this historical question-- even if it is through the lens of gay cars.

Now, four years after this all started, I'm waking up in that aforementioned box. The counterculture has become my entire life: I have dozens of books and resources saved for whenever I become an instructor, I'm an avid 60s alt fan, and I have an arsenal of potential theses that I want to approach in graduate school. But, in those four years, I haven't given myself the opportunity to explore more. I've been so headstrong about the 1960s that I failed to realize the vast richness of other historical pursuits. I was almost ignorant of them. This has been a hard epiphany to tackle. I've built my life around this, and it's hard to realize that I need to move on. (Alexa, play Landslide by Fleetwood Mac).

And, weirdly, South Park (of all things) is what brought me to the realization that I'm trapped in this box. I started watching the show, and then I started listening to different music, and enjoying different media. It was the most new stuff that I've ever consumed at once. At first, it was kind of terrifying: I had been one thing for the longest time. Once I started noticing that I was changing, growing into a different person, I didn't know what to do. But changing and growing is never a bad thing-- actually, it's the most human thing that anyone can do. Allowing myself this growth rather than continuing to confine myself into this box has been really, really awesome for me. I started laughing more, and taking things less seriously. I have new historical questions, and I feel as though I have been filled with life again. No longer am I disillusioned with my fanfic writing, or my professional work. I'm excited.

When I wrote the "everything happens for a reason" line in The Third Blink, I never thought much of it... until now. I think I was meant to find the cars fandom at fourteen (maybe earlier-- I made this blog at fourteen, but I was definitely in it for maybe a year before that), meant to start writing sargemore, meant to ask historical questions about the nature of their relationship-- All because it led me to where I am today. I'm applying to graduate school in December, and I still intend to write about the peace movement for my doctoral thesis. I think the same thing can be said about that life-changing epiphany that South Park (ugh) gave me: I've finally begun to realize that nothing is really that serious, and that changing and turning into someone you never expected to be is a good (even great!) thing.

After a certain point, I have to break out of this box. I can't always be Goldie, cars fanfic writer. I have to become myself, and I have to grow into my career and research pursuits. Becoming a better version of yourself is never a bad thing; nor is living your life free of any expectations. And, at any rate, a wise man once said: "It's futile to resist change."

So, I'm not saying goodbye. Not yet, anyway. I'm just taking a few steps back, becoming more passive. I still fully intend to finish Americana (and, maybe Nowhere, if I ever get around to working on it again), but I am not putting myself under any pressure to do so. It's been a long, crazy, incredible ride... But I think my retirement will be coming soon.

If you read all of that, thank you. I know this isn't stuff that you guys wanted to read, but the longer I went without saying anything, the worse I felt. Thank you.

Like I said, I'll still be around-- just not frequently.

Love y'all. -G.

[atjsgf]

📓 📓 📓 (plot per book pls!!)

ALRIGHT LET'S DO IT!

MISS AMERICANA AND THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE

So I have this reylo fic I’ve been meaning to write for years called Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. It’s a high school AU that is based on A Cinderella Story (one of my top five fave movies of all-time) but doesn’t follow it exactly–it’s a little darker, just bc of the nature of adapting the characters’ backstories, especially Finn and Ben. (They are all seniors unless otherwise specified.) 

Rey plays the role of Sam/Cinderella. Her mom died when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her abusive stepfather, Brendol Hux. Said stepfather favors his kids, Hux and Phasma (Armitage goes by his last name. Phasma is a nickname, but I think she has a real one that gets brought up). However, he also puts a lot of pressure on them as athletes (unsure what sport they do, figure skating maybe.) 

In ACS it’s a running gag that Sam’s twin stepsisters are really bad at their sport (synchronized swimming). In this, they’re good, but it’s to their detriment. (The exploitation of underage athletes is a recurring theme in this fic.)

(I like the trope where the evil stepmother–or stepfather in this case–is abusive to the step-siblings, too, just in a different way, just bc it strikes me as more relatable.) 

Rey works at the business Brendol runs, a mechanic shop/diner. She’s saving up money for college, but she’s also kind of forced to work long hours by Brendol. Her fairy godmother is obviously the manager of the diner, Daae Leira. 

Finn is Carter, but instead of acting, his whole thing is that he was a competitive athlete who fought for emancipation from his abusive family and won, and now he wants to major in journalism to shed light on the issue. 

Rose is Astrid (the DJ in the movie, she does have a name) who wants to major in broadcast journalism. So they both work on the school paper and that brings them together. 

And ofc, Ben is Austin. Captain of the water polo team, known for being aggressive and competitive, but secretly wants to be a writer. He has this kind of ruthless reputation for having gotten his own sister expelled by planting weed in her locker to prevent himself from getting kicked off the football team for having it. 

In reality, he got Cara expelled because his football coach–abusive, manipulative Snoke–was about to turn his attention to Cara, who had joined the girls’ water polo team against Ben’s advice. And Ben was terrified of Cara getting tied up with Snoke the way he had by that point. (Cara now goes to a boarding school in Northern CA, as opposed to the San Fernando valley where everything takes place.)

Anyways, Ben’s friends are Poe Dameron and Sage Skylstad. Poe is on the team with him and Sage is someone he’s been friends with since middle school. 

Ben and Rey have this online relationship. They know they go to the same school, but other than that they don’t know the other’s identity. When Rey finds out, her fear is less about Ben being super popular (he’s not), and more about him having that asshole reputation. (A more mild stressor is Sage–everyone at their school is convinced the two are dating, because of the whole “men and women can’t be platonic friends” thing. They are not and both find the idea gross.) 

Anyway. Rey gets her Cinderella moment, Snoke gets exposed by Finn and Rose, Ben gets his “I’m throwing away YOUR dream” moment, and they live happily ever after. I also wanted to do some sequels about them in college, Poe/Cara getting together, stuff like that. 

BETWEEN TWO POINTS/IN SCREAMING COLOR

So I had this idea for a series of Community fics. The series is called Between Two Points. The first three would each center on one ship. The first one, called In Screaming Color, would be Abed/OC. The second one would be Britta/Troy and the third would be Jeff/Annie. However, I think if I went back and did it now, I’d probably change it to Britta/OFC and Abed/OC/Troy, so I’ll outline it that way from here. 

In Screaming Color would just be Abed/OC, Troy would come into play later, I think it takes place after he leaves but while they’re still in school. The OC–I’ll call her Drew for now, that’s when she was my self-insert but I think I’d wanna make her a full OC if I wrote this–is a Dance major. She’s had a crush on Abed for awhile, ever since the Who’s the Boss debacle where he made the instructor cry or whatever, I need to rewatch the show. (I vaguely remember that I had to move the timeline and have this episode be earlier for things to make sense.) She was in that class and fell in love with how passionate Abed is about things like sitcoms–she’s also deeply passionate about things like that (she writes fanfic, etc) and felt a connection to that. 

However, Abed remains basically unaware of her existence until he has to do a music video for a class. She auditions for the main role (a ballerina in a music box who falls down and has to find her way around the music box–that’s my working theory on what it is, although I may change it if I think of something more thematically relevant) and gets the part. 

From there it’s this psychological thing where there’s a lot of miscommunication (mostly on Drew’s part) and false assumptions (mostly on Abed’s part) where she’s trying to make it clear that she’s genuinely interested in him, but he rebuffs her because he finds the trope of a director getting involved with actresses on set to be tired. (Feminist king.) And also because, you’ll remember in an early episode that Abed says “a lot of girls like me because I’m adorable and my aloofness reminds them of their fathers.” Even as he starts to like her, he thinks that she’s only interested in him because of the director persona he puts on. 

Eventually they have an actual conversation where she admits when she started liking him and why–she doesn’t like him because he’s aloof, she likes him because he’s deeply passionate about stories and storytelling and she can see that in everything he does, even if nobody else sees it that way. And they end up dating and are cute <3 In fics #2 and #3 they can often be found in the background doing fun things and acting out their favorite tropes. (Drew introduces him to the idea of acting out tropes instead of specific scenes or movies that exist, and he becomes obsessed.) 

Fic #2, currently untitled, would take place after the finale and would be a Britta/OC that ends in a decision to not get married but instead have a non-legally binding promise ceremony, because Britta doesn’t want to get married but she does want to be with the OC forever. I still like Troy/Britta, but idk if I see them working long-term, and I also think it would be a fun exercise to look at Britta and see what she would need in someone as a long-term love interest. 

Fic #3, also currently untitled, would see Annie coming back from Quantico for Britta’s wedding, years after leaving in the finale. She would have gone through a lot of personal growth in the years in between, and the fic would have her and Jeff get together in some way. Idk, I haven’t thought that hard about it, I just like them. 

(I also sometimes toyed with the idea of a fic that takes place in before fic# 3 that sees Annie having that personal growth in Quantico–it would be a Criminal Minds crossover and she’d be in the BAU.) 

And the final fic, Fic #4 would go back to right after Fic #1 when they’re all still in school. It would be an anthology fic where each chapter is about Drew’s relationship with the other members of the study group–how they met and what their dynamic is and when and why that member accepted her into their circle. For example, I wanted to move that one episode where Jeff gets bullied by some teenagers to be later in the timeline, and have Drew get involved, and that’s how she and Jeff connect. 

The last chapter–maybe the last few chapters, or maybe I’d make it a separate fic, idk if I could do the character work necessary in one chapter. But it would overlap with fic #3. Like Annie, Troy comes back for Britta’s wedding. (I think he and Britta are still close and there’s a lot of affection there even though they know they weren’t supposed to be forever, and I think Troy is really happy Britta found her person.)

Anyways, this would be when Troy/Drew/Abed gets together as a polyamorous triad. I think both Troy and Abed had those feelings before but never addressed them because they didn’t want to ruin their friendship and because it felt kind of off somehow. But Troy was gone for awhile and Abed didn’t fall apart–in fact, he’s proven to himself that he is capable of being in a long-term relationship that’s healthy. Their relationship has already undergone the worst scenario possible, so I think they’re more confident that if they broke up, they’d still be friends. And that feeling of off-ness is gone with Drew in the mix. 

(Abed and Drew admit to each other that even though they love each other atp, there always felt like there was a missing space in their relationship–it’s just generally this idea that the three of them are supposed to be in this kind of relationship with each other and that’s what’s always been right for them, they just had to wait for the pieces to fall into place.) 

Drew also panics when she realizes so many tropes are based on monogamous relationships until Abed reminds her that she is a writer and she can make up new stories for them, which she does. 

WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

This was gonna be a reylo role-reversal AU. With Cara in the mix, things that unfolded in canon shifted, and, long story short, Snoke was unsuccessful in turning Ben Solo to the dark side, so he set his sights on Rey instead and since she had no support network, he succeeded. Now Rey is the leader of the Knights of Ren who finds herself inexplicably drawn to smuggler Ben Solo. Would also include Finnrose (maybe a role reversal on them, too? Stormtrooper Rose and maintenance worker Finn?) and Damara (not role reversal I don’t think bc I can’t see Cara as anything other than an engineer, but their relationship may be different in some way.) 

I honestly didn’t have a lot planned for this lol, it was just something I was toying with. I obviously wasn’t the first to come up with the idea but I thought it would be fun to explore and put my mark on it. 

[breadtheft1796]

thanks for tagging me with your ideas! i love this! the suspense and foreboding nature of it is delicious. good news, i didn't finish the film so i can completely go off of vibes also. my thoughts below the cut.

i think this works so well with lee.

i love the idea of her being a businesswoman and going to one of those large three-day-long conventions. maybe bad planning or just the size of the thing (all the closer hotels/motels are booked out) forcing her to pull over at some cardboard-cutout, liminal, americana motel a few towns over and drive in.

it's not where she wants to be, but she has to admit there is a kind of eerie charm to it nonetheless. the couple who run the place and those who serve her at the ma-and-pap diner across the road are subdued but nice. there is something calming about how slow everything seems to be after the hustle-and-bustle of the convention.

she notices the guy when she walks in, maybe their eyes meet briefly and she can see his interest from that simple look but she brushes it off and chooses a small table, and orders herself something to eat and drink. their eyes keep catching and, eventually, she watches as he walks up and introduces himself, sitting himself down opposite her without waiting to be invited.

he talks about how drawn to her he is, how beautiful she is, all the cheesy lines. he asks her where she's staying, gives him just enough to be seen as "polite" but unintentionally gives away that she's out-of-town in the process. something in his expression changes, micro-expressions she could never infer but it's something and it sets off alarm bells in her head that she tries to brush off as silly.

he says "i'm making you uncomfortable..." on a huff of humoured breath, a play at being humble and self-aware without committing to it, a curated way to get her to lower her guard that little bit more. it doesn't work, but female socialisation steps in to help him anyway, because rather than agreeing, she makes light of the situation in an attempt to be polite again, she jibes back "not unless you're a cop."

he dismisses himself anyway, but she doesn't have time to feel relief at him leaving because something in the way he says "i'll see you around" makes it sound inevitable. she could just get back in her car, find somewhere else to stay for the night, but she knows motels with spare rooms are few and far between in this area, and she doesn't even know if she's safe to drive back from the diner, much less any further, with how tired she is. all the black coffee has done is made her jittery.

she sees him the next day, when she's popped into a pharmacy to pick up something. (if she's called her doctor to get her prescription moved to there, he's got an opening to learn her address without her offering it. he could spark up a conversation about the area she’s from, just to make her aware that he knows).

the day after that, she sees him interacting with someone else as she's parked in her car, and he's clearly intimidating the person; she watches intently and though she can't hear what he's saying, she can see the way he squares up, points in their face, strong-arms space in the conversations... she can see the way the other person slowly gets smaller and more scared, looking for a way out. she tries to collect her things together (put on sat nav/start the engine/something) then *knock knock* there he is, big smile and intense eyes. she was right to think it felt inevitable. he asks her out. “come on, it’s your last night. hey, if you don’t have fun then at least you don’t ever have to see me again,” he tries to reassure.

and she does, comforting herself with the fact that she in fact doesn’t have to see him again after than, since she’s going home in the morning... he’s a gentleman, but something is not right, she just can’t figure out what. she tries to tell herself she might have miss-seen what she saw earlier, because he really is being pleasant and mostly appropriate. maybe it’s the low light of the restaurant and the low jazz playing in the background, maybe it’s really been that long since anyone has looked at her in the way he does as she tries to cherry-pick bits of her life to tell him; he listens so intently, seemly only to get distracted by appreciating her beauty. it feels... flattering? charming? she tries to shake it off but she’s not immune to it. he slips in a comment about how bad he wants her, a shame the evening has to end. ‘not that kind of girl’ she tries to hint, ‘he’ll need more than a couple of days for that’. he makes a show of looking humbled again that doesn’t quite look right on his face.

he drops her at the motel and watches her walk toward it, and she feels like prey. she passes her car to find her tires have been slashed and who is still there, getting out of his car to offer to take it into the shop for her... of course he is; he’s opportunistic. “well, looks like you’ve got no excuse to not come out with me tomorrow night,” he says, and she can’t help but wonder if the pretense is starting to drop. this time, he hasn’t tried to make it sound like a joke that didn’t land right. “i’ll pick you up at 8.”

she’s anxious getting into his car, the dread is building. she’s relieved to recognise the route he’s taking and the road the restaurant he’s taking her to is on. it’s as it was the night before: he’s pleasant and appropriate, she tries to push back her instincts once again. he’s orders their food. the waitress (a sweet looking girl with big eyes that watches him as anxiously as she had felt getting into his car that night) says “yes sheriff bodecker” before walking away.

and he doesn’t even look back at sarah. he just stares off where the waitress had been, a cocky laugh making it’s way out of his mouth, because the games up now, he’s been caught in a lie. when he looks back, all that predatory energy she’s been trying to tell herself was paranoia is so clear. all the charm she had started to feel turns to ice.

‘she should feel glad,’ he says, ‘that she has someone like him looking out for her; a woman so far from home, no car and no contacts, anything could happen’ or something equally as intimidating about her ‘being stuck their a few more nights’.

.

hope i’ve not taken too many liberties with your prompt, and that this is something close to what you were thinking of. sorry, i wrote so much more than i planned to. i adore suspense and your delicious prompt sparked my imagination.

can I confess an au story idea involving sarah wilson that I’ve had for a while that isn’t fluff or sweet, and is more suspense and dangerous?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Miss Americana (Part 3)

Summary: The reader recovers from her second dose of Compound V and explores her stronger abilities with Dean. But the events of a fun night out might give Miss Americana and Soldier Boy an unlikely ally...

Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy!Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language, implied past torture/assault/killings

A/N: Enjoy this final part! This contains very minor spoilers for The Boys...

______

“Let me hide this stuff and I’ll be back in five, okay?” he asked. You nodded, Dean cupping your cheek before he was gone. It was barely a minute before he was returning, wearing sweats and a henley, a box under his arm. “Brownies from the bakery down the block.”

“I thought you liked pie.”

“I do. But you like brownies,” he said. “Something to look forward to after you spend the night shaking and sweating.”

“Lovely,” you said. He sat down beside you, urging you to lean into him. He tucked a blanket over your legs, watching the fire crackle. “I don’t think I mind if you’re a monster.”

“I can be pretty horrible.”

“You’re not horrible to me. You’ve never been that way. Even if your first instinct was to try to manipulate me you decided not to.”

“I hate most people. Think they’re worthless. Only care about myself.”

“So? I told you when we met...I’m the nice bad guy. I frankly don’t give a fuck anymore about being the pushover, the one that gets hurt. I just want to never be afraid again.”

“We never have to be afraid after tonight. Never,” he said. “You’ll be stronger than Homelander. Stronger than me. You’ll be safe.”

“For a bad guy, you were awfully nice giving me that dose with no strings attached.”

“There’s no strings,” he said. He stroked your arm when you shivered. 

“Partners?” you asked. He leaned down, kissing you more gently than he ever had. No need behind it.

“I like partners,” he said. He was warm as you started to feel cool, Dean drawing shapes on your bare skin. “I had a little brother.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“He got sick right after I shipped out. Died the morning I got my first dose of Compound V. Only reason I volunteered for the shot. They said volunteers got special benefits. I wanted my brother to get to a good hospital and proper care and he was already dead by the time I got my shot. Then uh, then some of us started dying cause they didn’t know dosages or shit. I thought at least Sam’s gonna be okay. Then I spent three days wishing it would kill me so I could be with him instead of having been away for the last year of his life. But I didn’t die. I was the only one. Then they gave me more and...I guess I enjoyed becoming the super soldier over grieving. Then it goes to your head and changes you and...Sammy wouldn’t even recognize me now. At least I know I’m not going to the same place he wound up so he won’t have to see.”

“What was that like, being honest just now,” you asked, goosebumps covering your skin. You bundled into him more, Dean pulling up the blanket.

“I miss Sammy. I haven’t thought about him in years. I hope the kid’s happy wherever he is.”

“Maybe you’ll see him again someday,” you said. You shook, sweat forming all over you, muscles aching. You turned, unable to get comfortable. “How long does this last?”

“About six hours. Then I passed out and when I woke up it was over.”

“Awesome.” You gripped the blanket tight, Dean massaging your tense shoulders. “Tell me more about Sammy. Please.”

“He absolutely hated being called Samuel,” said Dean with a chuckle. “So naturally I did it all the time when we were kids.”

“Keep going,” you said, stomach churning briefly. “Distract me.”

“Let me tell you about the time we jumped off the shed roof.”

You were in sweaty clothes when you woke, lifting your head off Dean’s chest to find him passed out and snoring lightly. You sat up, shaking out your head. Something was different. You stood, deciding to test out flying first. You yelped when you nearly hit the ceiling, freezing and plopping straight down onto the couch and Dean.

He groaned awake, peeling open his eyes to find you hovering above him.

“Sweetheart I’m all for a little rough in the bedroom but not a full body tackle awake,” he said. You moved to the side, the motion second nature quickly but it required much less effort than before. You looked around, nothing in the room heavy enough to test your strength. Dean sat up, smirking as he looked at you. “Wanna arm wrestle?”

“Yes!” you said, Dean chuckling, groggily taking a seat at the counter. You stood on the other side of the island, Dean clasping your hand.

“Let’s go,” he said. You squeezed, Dean keeping up with you for a good few seconds before he started to go down fast. You heard the counter creek and then it was breaking, Dean backing up. 

“Uh,” you said. 

“Don’t worry about it. What do you expect when you got supes in the place? But you, you’re stronger. Stronger than me,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Very good. I um, I’d like to go fly. I think I might be faster.”

“Go for it. I’ll call someone to get this fixed. Just be careful. Try not to fly into any planes.”

“I’ll do my best, Soldier Boy.”

“Again?” asked Dean that night. You flew up high and smiled, Dean letting go of you, free falling a few seconds before you dove down and caught him. He giggled and you flew higher, Dean jumping off. You could heard him laughing and went down, something hitting you on the way. You threw a punch and arms released you, Dean holding on tight when you finally caught up with him. You both looked up and glared, a cape and pair of red eyes looking down. “You do realize the fall won’t kill me.”

“Probably not. But it’d be fun to try,” said Homelander. He floated down to your level, your arm tight around Dean’s waist. “Oh relax. I won’t touch your boy toy again.”

“I thought I said to stay the fuck away from us,” you growled.

“I just thought you’d like to know that Soldier Boy’s internal file will be released to the major news outlets tomorrow. Did you know-”

You grabbed his neck with your free hand, squeezing hard, Homelander pawing at your wrist.

“Any good reasons why I shouldn’t kill him?” you asked Dean.

“None come to mind,” said Dean, Homelander’s eyes red but fading as he choked for air.

“Feel free to speak up,” you said, gripping his neck even tighter. 

“Stop,” said a voice, the three of you turning towards a small drone hovering close by. “Let him go.”

“He tried to kill Soldier Boy,” you said, holding on tight. You didn’t even see the drone shoot out the darts, the three of you hit. You instantly dropped Homelander, flying down to the roof of Vought as soon as you could, Dean out cold already and you quickly joining him.

You woke up on the couch in Edgar’s office, no sign of Dean or Homelander. Everything felt off still as you sat up, Mr. Edgar suddenly sitting on the edge of the coffee table.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” you groaned, stretching out. “What the hell was that?”

“If you’re going to act like children, we’ll treat you like them.”

“Dean and I were having fun, minding our own business-”

“Dean and you stole Compound V for your own benefit. I thought you were going to be more understanding of this arrangement.”

“I have to be stronger than Homelander and now I am. We didn’t hurt anybody to get it. You people let him do whatever the fuck he wanted so get off your high horse.”

“We understand. But you can’t kill him.”

“Why the fuck not.”

“He brings value in, even not as part of the Seven. Miss Americana and Soldier Boy can take over the leadership roles and Homelander is to be left alone.”

“He wants to kill-”

“I said to leave it be.” You stood, glaring down at him. “If an incident like this occurs again, there will be consequences. Dismissed.”

“Gonna throw us back in a hole? That’s kinda your thing isn’t it.”

“We know how to deal with problem children, even supe ones,” he said, standing up. “Back off before all three of you are worth more dead than alive. Don’t make me dismiss you again.”

You stormed out, slamming the door after you, not bothering to look back when you heard the wood splinter. You went straight to Dean’s apartment, Dean unscathed inside. But Homelander standing there, neither of them actively trying to kill the other, that was more than enough to forget your anger for the moment.

“You okay?” asked Dean, stepping over to grab your hand. You hummed, looking Homelander up and down. “You got the same message we did I’m guessing.”

“Behave or we’re all fucked. Yeah. Why the hell is he here?”

“We were spoken to at the same time. While he’s still a psycho and has some major fucked up issues, he has a different idea,” said Dean. 

“Said the mass murderer.” Homelander rolled his eyes. “We all want to be in charge of the Seven. Be the best.”

“You shoved your hand down my pants,” you growled.

“True. But enemies can work together when they have a larger, common enemy, hm?”

“Edgar,” said Dean. “He wants to wipe out Edgar. Ashley is the next logical choice and we can control her. She wouldn’t do jack shit to us.”

“Remove Edgar from the equation and we can all get along. Maybe form a little, trio, best of the best. Still part of the Seven but top dogs. Vought would eat that shit up. Behind the scenes you two fuck or whatever it is you do. Publicly, we’re the strongest go America team there ever was. The soldier from a simpler time, the soldier who fought the terrorists and defend her country, and the everyday man who protects his fellow citizens. All walks of life, all the basis covered. Between the three of us our numbers are sky high in every single demographic.”

“What’s to stop us from killing each other after Edgar is out of the picture,” you said.

“You’re strong enough to kill me. But your little boyfriend can’t fly. You come after me, I’ll drop him in the ocean. Leave me alone, I leave you two alone and we all win,” said Homelander. “Deal?”

“What do you think?” you asked Dean. 

“Lesser of two evils. I think,” said Dean. “I say we give it a chance to see if we can get Edgar out.”

“Fine. We can discuss this more tomorrow. Oh and Homelander. I ever catch you in my or Dean’s apartment again, I’ll snap your neck. Deal or no deal.”

“If you were only a little more twisted we could have had something,” he said. He nodded and left, Dean letting out a deep breath when he was gone. 

“Y/N,” said Dean. You hummed, wrapping your arms around him. “Thanks. For catching me earlier.”

“I’m sure you would have been fine.”

“Probably but I don’t want to test that theory out. If he dropped me in the ocean...I still need to breathe. We have to play nice.”

“We will. Until we don’t have to,” you said. He smirked, kissing your lips. “He tried to kill you. Now I hate him even more. As soon as we can, he’s gone.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned.

“Yes I am and you, you’re my Soldier Boy. We’re going to own this place, very, very soon.”

“Damn straight we are sweetheart. Just a little bit longer and then we can do whatever we want to. Promise.”

_________

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Delicate. — Part 1.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: Here we are fam, i gotta be honest with y’all, this is heavily inspired in the fact that i watched Miss Americana twice this month, what resulted in me going through my taylor swfit phase again. Pls bare with me, i haven’t written anything like this before.

catch up here!

They said artists become what they are because deep down they are as insecure if not more than normal people. Because they craved constant validation in what they do. 

At least it was the case for Y/n. 

A girl who has built an entire system around being accepted by the public, someone who their major source of happiness is provided by strangers all around the world. When you are living from the approval of strangers and that is where you drive all your joy and fulfillment, one bad thing can cause everything to go down. Y/n has spent her whole life trying to please the world so they would like her, so what she has achieved over the years would last. 

When the world turned their back on her, Y/n had no choice but to disappear, because she thought that was what everyone wanted. Even then, she made her choices around what she thought would make them happy.

Y/n knew she could not hide forever, but for now, it was a necessary evil she had to take. Deciding to take a break from everything was the healthiest decision she has ever made, shutting down her social media, getting out of the city and going back home with her family was exactly what she needed. 

"Mom was sad she couldn't pick you up from the airport."

Seventeen-year-old Jensen, whose driving license was still new and fresh, was the one who picked Y/n up when her flight landed. In complete honesty, she did not like using a private plane, but she could not risk someone seeing where she was going. Jensen was good at driving, well, he has not crashed into a tree yet, so they were safe. 

"She would've brought Chase and scare Pandora and Lizzie." 

Jensen chuckled. "She's obsessed with him. I haven't started college yet and she's already thinking about turning my room into Chase's." 

Her parents’ house was a gated property away from others since it was safer that way. Y/n would not stay there the whole time since she had her own apartment a little closer to town. Her luggage, as well as her cats, were picked up separately and taken to her home, she would go there after lunch with her family. Jensen parked next to a black range rover that belonged to their dad, meaning both of their parents were home. 

Y/n threw her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped out of the car, eager to finally reunite with her family, especially her mother. She is in desperate need of a tight hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a shoulder to cry on. Y/n did not realize how mentally drained she was until she saw her mother open the front door. 

"My baby!" Louise exclaimed, embracing her daughter in a tight hug. "How was the flight?" 

"It was fine. I'm starving though." 

They walked into the living room and Louise closed the door behind them. Y/n dropped her backpack on one of the couches and sighed in relief. “Where’s dad?” Jensen went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Get the white wine.” Y/n told him.

“It’s too early to drink that.” Louise took the bottle from Jensen’s hands and put it back in the fridge. “Dad’s outside. We bought some roses that will look beautiful by the pool.”

“You’re buying a lot of plants lately.” Y/n pointed a big vase full of daisies, her mom’s favorites, on the kitchen’s island. 

“I like supporting local business.” She shrugged.

“That and she’s obsessed with the owner of the flower shop.” Jensen chuckled, cracking open a water bottle. 

“Hey! That’s not true.” 

“Mom, you there like… every day. Who needs new flowers every day?”

“Shush.” The elder woman faked offense then gigged. “Handsome young man, he is. I’ll take you tomorrow.” She turned to Y/n. 

“Oh, no, mom. I’m going to lock myself in my apartment and try to write.” She said, making Louise scoff. “I’m serious!”

“I know you are. But living like a hermit is not going to do you any good.”

“I agree, sis.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing they were right as always but did not want to admit it. The truth was, she wanted to write some songs, so badly, but could not find the right words. She was hoping to get some peace and quiet to get her ideas and emotions in order again. Before any of them could say anything else, David entered the kitchen while taking off his gardening gloves and smiled widely when he spotted Y/n.

“And who do we have here?”

“Hi, dad.” Y/n smiled at him brightly before wrapping her arms around her dad, who hugged her back just as tight. 

“Good to have you home, darling.” 

The family of four sat on the kitchen island and started to catch up. Jensen talked about his different college options and how he was considering getting a summer job this year. Louise kept talking about how nice the owner of this flower shop was, making emphasis on how he was also single. Y/n didn’t know what she was trying to do, but she didn’t pay much attention either. 

Overall it was nice for Y/n to get out of her head for a little bit, and her family was always a great help for that. She knew she still had a lot to deal with, and she would probably get a call from her publicist and a lot of other people soon, but for now, she just wanted to think about anything else that wasn't the whole world hating on her. 

"How are you doing, Y/n? Be honest." Her mom asked after they stayed alone in the kitchen.

"Been better." She sighed. "I don't want to think about it, mom."

"You have to talk to someone, sweetie. I know your team cares for you and is trying to handle the situation, but you can still talk to me."

"I know, thank you. I'm just trying to figure it what I'm going to do."

Louise sighed. "You sure you don't want to stay here? You have your room and everything."

"Thanks for the offer, mom. But I sort of want to be on my own." She said. "But I'll come for lunch every day, I promise."

Although Louise wasn't convinced by her daughter's words, she chose to not push it. She knew Y/n had her own ways to express her feelings, and she'd talk whenever she felt like it. So she let her go, making her promise she'd come to visit soon.

"Do you need a ride? I'm going to town anyway." Jensen offered, taking the keys of his car from the little plate they kept on the table beside the front door. 

"Yes, please."

The drive to her apartment wasn't a long one, and in less than ten minutes she was opening her front door and being greeted by her two beautiful cats rubbing themselves on her legs. Y/n sighed, thinking about how much she needed to unpack now that she was here. The truth was, she didn't know for how long she'd be staying here, but she figured it'd be a long time so she packed a lot. Now she kind of regretted it because she would probably be in her pajamas all day anyway. 

After cleaning Pandora and Lizzie's sandbox, Y/n decided to grab an acoustic guitar and try to come up with some melodies. She wasn't quite sure about any lyrics yet, but it was always good to have a little something to start a song. 

She went from playing the guitar to play the piano, hoping she'd get more inspirations somewhere. But she had nothing. Not even one decent note. She was empty. 

"Don't pretend is... mhmm. Think about the... No." She groaned and slammed the palm of her hands on the keyboard, growing frustrated. Why all of a sudden she couldn't even rhyme? Maybe she needed a break, or perhaps she was tired from her flight and tomorrow she'd be able to write something.

//

Turns out her writer's block was here to stay. A week has passed since her arrival and Y/n hasn't been able to finish one single song. Everything she started ended up being erased or in the middle of her living room after the ripped the page off her journal. 

"I told you, you shouldn't hurry. Inspiration will come eventually, it always does."

"I guess. I just have nothing else to do other than play scrabble with you and write songs, or at least try to."

"Let me take out then." Louise started and Y/n shakes her head. "C'mon, let's eat somewhere or buy groceries and I'll cock at your place." Y/n looked at her mom and realized she wouldn't stop until she accepted, so Y/n offered Louise a nod. "Marvelous. There's this little café that I absolutely love. You'll love the owner."

"What is it with you and the owners of local shops?"

"They're my friends. Oh! We could drop by Blossom House. You could use some flowers around your house so it would look like somebody actually lives there."

"Stop dragging me, woman."

Louise drove them to this café called Furry Cakes, which turned out to be a cat café. Y/n obviously lost it as soon as they walked in, and nearly cried when she saw all the kittens, and absolutely shed a tear when the girl behind the register said every kitty except for one named Chaster was up for adoption. She felt like a little girl all over again when her mom told her she couldn't take every single kitty home. 

Y/n was wearing a hoodie that was twice her size, plus some big sunglasses she refused to take off, even inside of the café. She was praying she wouldn't get recognized as she knew people were dying for a picture of her, see how she was after the entire world canceled her. 

"We'll leave the car parked here, the flower shop is just around the corner." Louise pulled from Y/n's hand to make her walk faster. There weren't a lot of people on the streets and she was grateful for that, she hasn't gotten a proper walk in what felt like ages. 

They stopped outside a modern-looking building with a big, bright sign that read 'The Blossom House'. It was simple yet cute. The pair stepped in and a little bell ringed. Y/n looked around, admiring how everything looked like it was straight out of a fairytale. There were little pots hanging from the ceiling and she looked up, she saw the ceiling was pure glass, which made the whole place brighter. Flowers weren't really her thing as she could barely keep them alive, but seeing this amount of flowers all in the same place... made her somewhat happy and warm inside. 

She was so deep in thought she didn't even realize her mom left her and was nowhere to be found. It doesn't look like it from outside, but the shop was actually big and very spacious. It was also empty right now, not even an employee was around, so she decided to have a look on her own. It looked like they had all kinds of flowers in here, which made her even more excited because that meant they had-

"Azaleas? They're also my favorites." A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She jumped on her place as she wasn't expecting it, which made the person behind her chuckle. "I didn't mean to scare you, sorry."

"It's okay..." She turned around and it was fair to say that was she saw stunned her right away.

In front of her, a gorgeous looking man was standing there with a bright smile on his face. She noticed the two dimples poking at each side of his face, making his smile even more beautiful. His emerald green eyes were the greenest eyes she has ever seen in her life, she believed. He had crinkles by his eyes due to his smile being wide. But to her, the icing of the cake was the beautiful mop of chocolate curls he had on the top of his head. She suddenly felt the insane urge to run her hands through it just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

"Harry, darling!" Louise appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around the man, who only chuckled while reciprocating the greeting.

"Hello, Louise. What's it gonna be today? Tulips? More daisies?" Oh God, he's British. Y/n thought to herself. 

"Gosh, you know me so well. I'm actually here just to look around, I see you found my daughter though." She smirked.

"I surely did. I'm Harry, nice to meet you, love." He offered her a hand for her to shake.

Y/n was a little surprised by the pet name but took his hand nonetheless. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too."

"I want her to get some plants for her house." Louise spoke again.

"Well, you're in the right place then." He said. "Do you want them for your garden?"

"No, uhm... I don't have one. I live in an apartment."

"Personally, my favorite to keep indoors are Begonias." Harry guided the two women to a different section of the flower shop and pointed to some pretty ones in pink color. "But I also enjoy Daylilies, although they're a little harder to maintain."

"Yeah, maybe not those then. I'm not very good at keeping plants alive."

"She killed a cactus once." Louise mentioned. 

"No way." 

"I didn't know they'd drown if I watered them more than once a week!" Y/n defended herself. 

"Amateur mistake." He joked. 

The truth was Y/n was too busy to have a garden, she was always traveling and didn't stay too long in one place so even if she tries to have one, it'd be dead by the end of the month. 

"What plants are cat friendly? I have two at home."

"Bromeliads are cat friendly, they're easy to maintain too."

They looked around for a little bit. Harry said a fun fact about every type of flower Y/n pointed out, never failing to make her laugh. The funny thing was, it didn't look like Harry knew who she was. Either he hasn't recognized her, or he didn't know about her. Which by the way, not to be a narcissist, would be highly unlikely.

She ended up taking a couple of new plants home, starting to grow excited about them. It was true, her apartment could use a little more life to it, and now she was sure her new plants would do that for her. Harry was wrapping everything for them while he stood behind the counter.

"Oh, here. This one's on the house." Harry handed her a pot with some beautiful blue Azaleas. She took them with a growing blush on her face, a blush that went deeper when their hands brushed with each other. "Try to not kill them though." He teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes as her mom chuckled behind her. "I'll report their aliveness back to you, you'll see."

"You better. Have a nice day, ladies. I'm guessing I'll see you around, Y/n?"

"Sure, I'm uh... I'm living here right now."

Harry smiled at them one last time before they exited the shop. After the door closed behind them, Louise turned to Y/n. "He likes you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"What do you say if we invite him for dinner sometime?"

"Like, at your house?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah, why not?"

"I have to keep a low profile, mother. For all I know he could be tweeting about I just exited his shop."

"Don't let the paranoia ruin the possibility of forming new friendships... or more." Louise sent her a wink.

"Okay, that's enough."

Y/n brushed her off, trying not to think much about it. A new friendship sounded impossible at this point of her life, let alone pursuing a new relationship with someone. She had made up her mind, she was better off being alone.

[roaringgirl]

book club - July

keeping a little record for myself

feel like I say this every time, but really an abysmal showing at reading women writers. More abysmal than usual, even.

1. L. P. Hartley - The Go-Between (1953): Honestly I don’t remember an awful lot about this - I know I enjoyed it and there’s a cracker of a cricket match - one of the great sport scenes of literature?

2. Geoff Dyer - Out of Sheer Rage (1997 - reread): Was puzzled by this the first time I read it. On reread, I think it’s mostly solipsistic and boring. Dyer not as interesting a subject as D. H. Lawrence - even though it’s missing the point, I would rather have read Dyer’s unwritten book about D.H. than his book about not writing a book about D.H. Although he does, occasionally, have some great observations about old D.H., and has strengthened my conviction that although I don’t think Lawrence’s books are good, always, necessarily, I feel a sort of grudging affinity with him (whereas, although I like or even love a lot of E.M. Forster, I am fundamentally antipathetic to his spirit).

3. Szczepan Twardoch - The King of Warsaw (trans 2020): Some of this was really, really fun, but both twists were absolutely awful. Like, you can’t really supply a more harrowing twist to a novel about Jewish gangsters in Warsaw in 1937 than the one that we know is inevitably, historically coming. If you ignore the weird twist the main story could have been good, but the framing device was just awful.

4. Joseph Roth - The Radetzky March (1932 - reread): I went to Vienna at the beginning of July so got very into Mitteleuropa. I found this book very dull when I read it at about 16 - loved it on rereading. Fathers, sons, the historical weight of a crumbling empire, duelling, Austro-Hungarian army officers - what more could anyone want?

5. Bruno Schulz - The Street of Crocodiles and Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass (1934, 1937): Very Kafka (a kind of softer, more expansive Kafka?- and Schulz translated Kafka into Polish, I think). Love the shorter stories and the ones more concretely set in Drohobycz - less keen on the stories and novellas in Sanatorium Under the Sign of the Hourglass.

6. Frank Tallis - Vienna Blood (2006, reread)

7. Frank Tallis - Fatal Lies (2008, reread) - Fun Secession-Vienna set murder mysteries. Reread back in London while on Covid sickbed having caught it at the Vienna State Opera. Would have to be syphilis for the full Viennese experience, though.

8. Benjamin Myers - The Gallows Pole (2017) - Very taken by this. Historical novel about 18th century coiners in Yorkshire on the brink of the Industrial Revolution. Fun, overwritten prose - Myers thinks he’s Ted Hughes - but I am a sucker for this kind of revisionist - what would be the equivalent of Americana? Anglicana? Do find the trend for these very violent, very niche, self-consciously masculine historical novels quite funny but can’t complain as I am writing one myself.

9. Ben Galley - Lester Young. Cannot find any information on this online so suspect I may have misrecorded author’s name. But it was the rare short, well-written, perceptive jazz book with good selection of recordings as well as thorough discography. Oh, Pres! What a sound!

10. Adam Phillips - Missing Out: In Praise of the Unlived Life (2012): Enjoyed this a lot when he was, like, explaining psychoanalysis, although really (like most of Phillips’ work) it’s a bit of a rag-bag of essays and he’s a better second-order explainer than he is at doing original work. He is, though, a supremely gifted and entertaining explainer of others’ work (I’d compare him to Terry Eagleton). His literary criticism is interesting if insubstantial, though, especially because when I was ‘doing’ literary criticism I never really worked from a psychoanalytical standpoint.

11. Nick White - How to Survive a Summer (2017): Brandon Taylor-recommended, pretty rubbish really. Never really followed through on the O’Connor style grotesqueries I was expecting - a much softer book than I’d thought it was going to be, which is maybe more a mismatch of expectation to material, but - rather lightweight.

12. Eliza McFeely - Zuni and the American Imagination (2015): Boring book but fascinating subject. Read like a Master’s dissertation or something - not even quite a PhD.

13. T.H. White - The Sword in the Stone (reread)

14. T.H. White - The Witch in the Wood

15. T. H. White - The Ill-Made Knight: These are great. I loved The Sword in the Stone as a child (book and film), and really enjoyed the next two as well - think I may have originally read a different, shorter version of The Sword in the Stone. I love how much it reads like a Nancy Mitford novel, as well.

16. Jonathan Coe - Mr Wilder & Me (2020): Rubbish. Ordered second-hand to flat by my dad after we’d been discussing Billy Wilder. Very easy read, but flat-out bad. Might go and see the film adaptation if it ever gets made, though.

17. Bruce Chatwin - The Viceroy of Ouidah (1980): Another second-hand boon from my dad. Not sure what prompted it. Enjoyed a lot, although can only imagine da Sousa as Klaus Kinski following Herzog’s Cobra Verde - although think a lesser film that his others with Kinski).

18. Mieko Kawakami - Breasts and Eggs (2008, trans 2020): Breasts section great. Second section about sperm donation much longer and much less compelling.

19. Oliver Sacks - The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat (1985): Enjoyed very much, although the puritan in me suspects I should be reading Luria instead.