#the book had more space to explore and discuss

[mourningmaybells]

cant believe genly ai and estraven ran through the ice so will riker and soren could flop around and accidentally roll into the finish line

[ellecdc]

The Winner Takes It All

poly!Marauders x reader (gender not specified)

CW: slight light angst (between reader x other students), confusion on relationship status, fluff

You didn’t really know what you had done to win the affections of the infamous Marauder boys – namely Remus, Sirius, and James – but you weren’t going to question it too deeply; you quite enjoyed their company.

Everyone knew the three boys were together: Sirius and James were never known for their subtlety, and Remus was the reluctant (but quite pleased) victim of their near constant PDA. 

Somehow, you too had gotten swept up in their affections.

It wasn’t official – in the sense that you and the boys had never discussed what their flirting, pet names, cuddles, or forehead kisses meant in the grand scheme of things – but no one was ignorant to the chemistry between the four of you. The boys were so unbelievably sweet with you, and their attention felt like nothing short of worship.

James’ excessive excitement when you walked into a room left you feeling like you meant something; an overwhelming sense of belonging within his space. Sirius’ devilish flirting, compliments, and obvious ogling made you feel more beautiful than you ever thought possible. And Remus’ small gestures – whether carrying your books for you, ensuring you’ve eaten and drank enough water, and his special nicknames he seemed to save just for you - left you melted into a puddle of fondness. 

And that wasn’t always taken very well by others.

Namely, Emmeline Vance. 

The boys had been known to be quite…open…in their sexual encounters in the past and have, on occasion, included a fourth party in their dorm room activities. This quickly stopped when some parties felt this meant they were included in their dynamic.

Emmeline was one of them, and it appeared she wasn’t taking the news of them seemingly working to include an official fourth to their relationship very well. 

This is one of the reasons you hadn’t brought up exactly what you meant to them; you were not interested in simply being the boys’ next bedmate, and a part of you was afraid that bringing things up would expose the fact that this was indeed their hope.

The other part of you knew that the boys weren’t the kind to string someone along, and that they’d have to be playing an awfully long game if that was truly their angle. But the possibility squeezed at your heart nonetheless.

Emmeline had taken to making snooty comments to you when the boys weren’t around. Lily, Marlene, Peter, and Dorcas seemed particularly bothered by it, but you did your best to ignore her.

But there was a part of you that wanted to scream at her a little bit…you weren’t even technically in a relationship with them! You’d never slept with them, you’d never even properly kissed any of them, and you certainly hadn’t made any moves to make whatever this was ‘official’. 

Another part of you didn’t even want to entertain the situation. You had far more important things to concern yourself with: You were studying for your NEWTS, considering whether you wanted to head right into the workforce or explore further education, and where the hell you were going to live after graduation. 

Unfortunately, Emmeline wasn’t the only one to pick up on your new-found closeness with the Marauders.

“Well, well, well…look what the lions dragged in.” Mulciber sneered from behind you as you made your way up the path from Hogsmeade. You rolled your eyes and kept your head forward; you’d been given permission from the headmaster to run to the village to purchase more potions ingredients, but apparently, so had the Slytherins.

“What? Good enough for those Gryffindor’s but not us? Where’re you running too?” Avery continued with a malicious grin when you picked up your pace. 

Thankfully, you could see the Hogwarts grounds were up ahead, and Lily was there at the gates waiting for you.

“Sod off.” You threw over your shoulder, feeling slightly bolder in the presence of your friend. 

You smiled warmly at the redhead as she threw her arm over your shoulder, sparing the Slytherin gits behind you a withering glare as you carried on towards the castle.

“What’s their problem now, hm?” She asked you, still glaring at the boys.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, who knows. Not happy with anyone associated with the Marauders.” 

Lily snorted inelegantly. “I don’t even think they’ve bothered pranking the Slytherin’s lately.”

“Nope.” You agreed with a pop of the P. “Everyone’s got bigger problems right now.”

Lily laughed but it turned into a groan. “Yeah, speaking of: incoming.”

You followed her gaze to see Emmeline making her way towards the two of you.

“Hello Lily!” She said cheerily before her face turned stony as the considered you, “Y/N.”

You tried to refrain (somewhat unsuccessfully) from rolling your eyes as you said hello to the girl.

“Have you seen the boys around?” She asked feigning innocence, but you both knew exactly who she was on about.

Lily played dumb, though you knew that she knew very well who Emmeline was looking for. “Which boys, Vance? That covers just about half of the population at Hogwarts.” She asked coolly. 

“Remmy, Siri, and Jamie. Obviously. I’m going to ask them to Hogsmeade this weekend.” She shared with a sense of finality. You did roll your eyes at this, and Lily scoffed.

“Well, my first place to look for them would be with Y/N, and seeing as they’re not here, I couldn’t tell you.” Lily spat.

Emmeline narrowed her eyes and looked between the two of you before she levelled a glare at you.

“This isn’t over. I’ll win them back.” She said plainly, and something about her tone caused you to snap.

The Slytherin’s, Emmeline, the stress of not knowing – it was all too much, and you were done.

“You know what, Emmeline?” You said in a calm tone as you looked to the sky. “You can have them.”

Lily whipped her head to look at you bewilderedly at the same time Emmeline cocked her head at you.

“I beg your pardon?” She asked as you returned your eyes to her.

“If you think you can ‘win’ them, you can have them. I don’t want something that can so easily be taken from me, anyway. But you’re competing in a game that I’m not even playing, so either take them or leave me alone because I’ve got bigger fucking problems than your stupid school-girl crush.” You were out of breath by the time you finished; your face was hot, and you were sure it was likely the colour of Lily’s hair, but you willed yourself not to cry as you stormed toward the castle.

Damn being an angry crier.

You were just so tired – this wasn’t a game to you; these were your friends, perhaps more (you certainly hoped more), and it was also your feelings. But what you said was true – nothing that can be taken from you is worth keeping, not even them. 

Lily quickly caught up to you but knew better than to say anything now, giving you the chance to breathe and calm down. You both made your way to Gryffindor tower where you threw yourself haphazardly into one of the plush couches near the fireplace. 

“Fuck.” You groaned as you rubbed your hand down your face.

“You okay, hun?” Lily asked as she pet your head commiseratively. 

You groaned again as you let your hand fall from your head and hang dramatically off the side of the couch. “Yeah, just tired. Of everything.”

Lily hummed in sympathy. “Why don’t you relax up here? I can bring you something from the Great Hall for supper.”

You looked at your friend like she hung the moon. “You’d do that for me?”

She chuckled and pinched your cheek, “‘Course. Anything for you, gorgeous.” She winked, trying on her best Sirius Black voice to mimic what the boy has said to you many-a-times before. 

They really did treasure you, didn’t they?

You sort of regretted your outburst now – you knew the boys weren’t a prize in some juvenile contest; that’s what you’d been trying to point out – but you worried that’s not the way it sounded. What would they do once they heard? And you knew they would – hear about it, that is. Would their feelings be hurt? Would they understand? Would they feel embarrassed to be spoken about in such a manner?

You didn’t have much time to think about it after Lily left, because before you knew it, said boys were crawling through the portrait hole. 

“Angel!” James shouted at you as he found your form curled up against the arm of the couch. He made for you instantly, vaulting himself over the back of the couch sat opposite of you like some kind of living room gymnast and launching himself onto your couch, nearly right on top of you. 

“Hi Jamie.” You said shyly as his arms wrapped around your middle and he dug his face into the crook of your neck.

“Missed you.” He said, though the sound was muffled from the new home he seemed to have made in your being.

“Lily said we’d find ya here.” Sirius said as he sat on the coffee table in front of you. You grimaced in response.

“How was your trip to Hogsmeade?” Remus redirected at your obvious discomfort, taking a place beside Sirius.

“Oh, it was alright. I found what I needed.” You answered quietly, playing with the nailbeds of your fingers. Sirius quickly gave you one of his hands to play with instead. 

“We heard you gave Vance a verbal lashing.” He said as you fiddled with one of the many rings adorning his long fingers. You groaned and let your head fall back onto the couch. 

“Sirius.” Remus quietly (though lovingly) chided. “Do you wanna talk about it, dove?” 

And there he goes with the nicknames, and James’ cuddling and Sirius’ piercing gaze and what the hell were you even doing here? 

“No.” You answered. “I don’t know.” You amended quickly. 

“I hope she didn’t upset you too terribly.” James offered quietly as he moved his chin to rest on your shoulder so he could look at you. You were suddenly self-conscious of how the side of your head looked.

“No. I may have been a little out of line.” You acquiesced. Sirius scoffed dramatically.

“Please, you’ve never been unreasonable a day in your life. You should try it once in a while.”

You chuckled at the dark-haired boy. “If anyone can drive me to it, it’ll be you boys.” You tried to joke, but it came out somberly. 

“I’m sorry if being with us makes things a little tricky for you, with other students.” Remus apologized. 

You snorted. “I’m not sure why being friends with you guys should be such an issue for other people.”

“Friends?” James asked as he sat up a little straighter. You cocked your eyebrow as you turned to look at him.

“Well, I don’t know…We’ve never really discussed anything, I didn’t want to assume…” You trailed off as you started picking at your nailbeds again. This time, Sirius moved to his knees in front of you and took both of your hands in each of his.

“Assume. Assume it all; all of it, everything. We’re yours.” He said emphatically, punctuating each sentiment with a squeeze of your joined hands.

“If you’ll have us…” Remus corrected, and you felt something swell behind your eyes at the faint blush that appeared on his cheeks. 

James seemed just as moved by Remus’ bashfulness as he leaned forward to caress the boy’s cheek. “We know we’d love to have you.” James finished for him.

You sniffled and offered them a tight smile. “I’d like that.”

Sirius deflated instantly and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank gods. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.”

“Die, probably.” James said seriously, surprising a laugh out of you.

“We never wanted you to feel insecure in your place with us, dovey. We’re sorry we didn’t make it clearer how much you mean to us.” Remus continued.

“It’s not that. You make me feel very…” but you trailed off timidly.

“Very…” Sirius continued with a devilish grin. You tried to hide behind your hands but he held-fast. “Don’t get shy on us now, gorgeous. How do we make you feel?”

“Cherished.” You whispered, and you watched as the mirth left his face, leaving behind only fondness.

“Oh, thank merlin.” James breathed. “I thought I’d have to up my flirting; and I don’t know if you guys know this, but I already live at 100% love always.”

“We know.” You, Sirius, and Remus answered in unison. 

“Okay, Jamie. Scoot.” Sirius said as he stood. He hardly waited for James to make room before he’d picked you up and flipped you two, so he was now sitting in your spot, and you were in his lap. “My turn.” He muttered as he put his face in the crook of your neck like James had before. James didn’t seem to mind the intrusion much; his arm thrown across Sirius’ shoulders and fingers rubbing at the baby hairs on your neck.

“Y/N?” Remus asked, and your toes curled in anxiety at how serious he looked.

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?” He asked, keeping his honey gaze locked on yours.

You felt a grin overtake your face as you nodded emphatically. His smile matched yours as he leaned forward resting his hand on your knee and pressed his lips gently to yours. You felt so incredibly complete – Sirius’ arms wrapped securely around you, James gently massaging your neck and shoulders, and Remus’ lips on yours.

Both you and Remus seemed reluctant to separate, but you did. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before he leaned back into his seat on the coffee table.

“Does this mean we get to do that all of the time now?!” James asked excitedly, causing the three of you to chuckle. You didn’t much mind the sound of that.

“There was no competition.” Sirius said quietly from his place in your neck. You turned your head which forced him from your neck as you looked at him inquisitively.

“There was never any competition. Between you and Emmeline.” He clarified, silver irises seeming to bore into your soul. “Between you and anyone.” 

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and ducked your head.

“And even if there was,” James continued, “you’d have won by a landslide.” 

Read the companion piece: The Loser Has To Fall

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Story Book Romance (Larissa Weems x f!Reader)

Synopsis: As the owner of a bookstore in Jericho, you've gotten rather good at giving recommendations to your customers. There's only one woman you desperately want to give one to.

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: discussions of discrimination, like one swear word

AN: It's been a hot minute since I've written for Larissa so please be kind. I'm a bit rusty. I hope it's still good.

The first time you’d walked into your shop, you’d fallen in love. It had been an empty space, but you had been able to see exactly what it would become. Inch by inch you built it up into your dream.

All these years later, your bookshop was thriving.

You hadn’t been sure about settling down in Jericho. The town was picturesque and it had a deep sense of history, but you weren’t sure if there was a market for a bookshop. You’d only meant to be passing through. Still, the space had called to you so you’d created a safe haven for yourself.

The large window at the front let in sunlight to warm the room, catching the motes of dust as they spun in the air. Shelves pushed against the walls and freestanding, creating mazes of books for customers to get lost in. Potted and hanging plants bringing some life to the space. The air smelt of ink and paper and stories, the scent you’d grown up with, comforting you even on the darkest of nights.

You hadn’t expected to be so embraced by the community. Perhaps you should have. The quaint town ran at a more leisurely pace than the city, giving the time for browsing stacks upon stacks of books, taking time to read a book on a warm summer afternoon. You’d grown to have the reputation to be able to recommend the perfect book to anyone.

The first time she’d walked into your shop, you hadn’t thought much of it. The bell had rang out, sweet in the quiet atmosphere of the shop. One more customer, one more story, the joy of helping someone discover something they might love. You’re turned the corner and immediately been struck dumb.

She was glorious. It was the first word that had come to your mind when you’d laid eyes on her. Tall, statuesque, elegant. Incredibly beautiful. Red lips had pulled up into a pleasant smile upon seeing you, blue eyes sweeping over your shop with a twinkle lighting her up from the inside out. Silver hair swept up, showing the long line of her neck only made you want to feel her pulse under your lips. The body hugging dress was unfair, leaving you feeling frumpy in your jeans and cardigan.

“Do you need any help?” you’d managed to stutter out, pushing past the sheer awe you felt looking at her.

She hadn’t, her voice smooth and lovely when she’d answered. Her accent made your mouth grow dry and your knees turn to jelly. So you’d turned on your heels and disappeared back into the safety of your stacks. You were lost, and it wasn’t to your own imagination this time.

Despite not being very helpful, she’d continued to come back, slowly exploring your store with each visit.

One such day in early fall, you could be found reshelving in the lull between customers. It had been a busy morning, a group of tourists having swept through for you to clean up after. You were humming to yourself, lingering over each book, doing your best not to let your thoughts linger on the beautiful woman that kept visiting your shop.

Over the last few months she’d come in at least once a week. You’d felt her presence like electricity on the air each time. She’d linger, browsing longer and longer before picking a book and bringing it to the counter to be rung up. Each time she’d offered you a smile, a comment, the brush of her gloved fingers in the exchange. It set your heart racing.

But she’d never asked for a recommendation before. You longed to give her one, to see if the woman you’d built in your head was anything like reality.

The bell above the door rang out. You ignored it, knowing you’d be found eventually if you were needed. Stretching up onto your tiptoes, you pushed a book back into place. Unlike the shelves along the walls, this one didn’t have a rolling ladder for you. Instead, stepstools were scattered throughout, waiting to be of some use to the poor person wanting to reach the top shelf.

A small meow caught your attention.

“I know, Moppet. It is a travesty.”

Your kitten, a calico you’d rescued off the street, had taken to shouting her opinion at you whenever the chance presented itself. In true bookshop fashion, you’d thought a cat would only add to the atmosphere. Unfortunately, yours just seemed to want to complain to anyone that would listen.

Another meow.

“Have you considered using your words?” you asked, scooping her up, “you’re always so quiet, Moppet.”

Her claws sunk in as she clambered onto your shoulder, balancing precariously. You bent your head towards her, letting her bump her own head against your cheek. She rubbed against you, her little purring making you smile.

“Is that the newest employee?”

You startled, your hand coming up to keep from jostling Moppet as you turned. She was standing at the end of the stack, those blue eyes sparkling as they peered at you. Your cheeks heated and you felt frozen on the spot. Approaching, a smile stretched over her red painted lips as she looked at your little kitten.

“This is Moppet,” you said as if that was the obvious answer to the question.

She held her finger out and the little traitor rubbed against it, her purring increasing. She gave her a gentle scratch behind the ear. Those blue eyes met yours and you flushed, entranced under her gaze. The scent of her perfume, something floral and expensive, wrapped around you, turning your head hazy.

“Moppet?” she asked.

“I spent my childhood lost in Beatrix Potter,” you replied.

“And you dismissed Mittens and Tom as names?” she asked.

“She’s much more a Moppet,” you said.

Her tiny paw came out, swiping at her hand, batting her finger away.

“No, Moppet,” you scolded, “we treat people with respect.”

“It’s alright,” she said, taking a reserved stepped back.

“If I don’t teach her now, she’ll be uncontrollable in her adolescence,” you said.

“Yes, teenagers can be difficult,” she agreed.

Moppet gently nudged at your cheek again, stealing your attention. You manoeuvred her from your shoulder, back into your arms. She meowed loudly, her claws digging into your cardigan, getting caught as she struggled. You were patient as you untangled her, listening to her ongoing commentary.

“Can I help you with something today?” you asked the woman when you finally got Moppet free.

You popped her down on the floor. She turned, looking up at you with a grumpy noise, before sauntering off into a more interesting part of the bookshop. Straightening, you forced a smile on your face as you looked up into the face of the towering woman.

“I’ve heard you’re rather good at giving recommendations,” she said into your expectant silence, “I find myself in need of something new. Ideally not about teenagers.”

You considered her a moment, eyes sweeping over her form. It would be so easy to assume she would want something along the lines of a classic, or perhaps poetry. You tilted your head, considering what she’d bought before, where she sometimes lingered in the shop, the references she sometimes dropped.

“I have just the thing,” you said.

You walked off, glancing over your shoulder to find her following you on silent feet. No wonder she kept managing to sneak up on you. She was like a ghost. You thought it wouldn’t be such a horrifying thing to be haunted by her.

Stopping in front of a packed shelf, your eyes roamed over it, searching out the title you wanted. Pushing up onto tiptoes, you tugged one down. You held it for a moment before passing it over to her. Her eyes stayed on you for a moment before they dragged down to the book now in her hands.

“Rebecca?” she asked.

“If you haven’t already read it,” you replied, “I think you’ll quite like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll find it wonderful,” she said with a smile for you.

She returned about a week after, finding you staring up at a tall shelf, hands on your hips, less than pleased. A small face was peeking over the edge, green eyes and whiskers looking surprisingly smug for a feline face.

“No, you can’t stay up there,” you said.

A small disinterested meow.

“I know you like it up there, Moppet, but it’s not safe,” you said in reply.

A long yawn showed you the contempt she felt towards you. You sighed, doing your best not to get frustrated. You could go and find a ladder, but then you might lose her again. She’d wander off and enjoy the game of hide and seek she was forcing you into you.

“You appear to be in a bit of a predicament.”

“She’s playing with me, the little troublemaker,” you said, not bothering to turn around. The bell had been warning enough.

“Do you want some help?” your mystery woman asked.

“Would you mind? You might have an actual chance of reaching her,” you said.

She stepped up to your shoulder, waiting for you to get off the step stool. You watched her ascend, trying not to ogle her like a creep but not quite managing it. Shapely calves led up to the curve of her hips, making your mouth grow dry as you gazed upon her.

“Come on, little one,” she murmured.

A small yowl came from the shadows atop the shelf. She muttered under her breath and then a displease face was dragged over the edge. In gentle arms, she carried your troublemaker back down to you. Her bare fingers were gently stroking along her spine, her gloves not present for the first time since you’d seen her.

“Safe and sound,” she said, looking to you with a wide smile.

“Thanks,” you said.

You took the kitten back from her, ignoring the grumpy look she gave you as you took her from her comfortable lounging position in the woman’s arms. Your hand brushed over hers, soft skin warm against yours. Your heart flipped over itself at the feeling.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said to Moppet, “I warned you.”

Her claws dug in to your forearm as she tried to rearrange herself into a more comfortable position. She rolled until her stomach was facing you, green eyes staring at you unblinking. You scratched her tummy, waiting for her to clamp onto your skin.

“She does seem to enjoy getting into trouble, doesn’t she,” the woman said, snatching your attention back.

“You should have seen her last night. She got into the bath after I’d drained it, then shouted until I came to investigate and made me think she was stuck, then just calmly hopped out and wandered off like I was being ridiculous,” you said, “she likes making me worry.”

“But she’s rather sweet,” she said, stepping into your personal space to offer more pats to your cat.

“Oh, the sweetest. She can get away with anything,” you agreed.

The two of you took a moment to stare into the yawning face of Moppet. She really had stolen your heart. When you looked back to her, she was smiling down at your cat, eyes sparkling, looking just as under her spell as you were.

“Sorry to hijack your browsing,” you said, that sense of shame from taking her attention for yourself burning in your bloodstream.

“I was actually looking for you,” she said, not realising the pulse of pleasure that gave you, “I’m in need of another recommendation. You did so wonderfully last time.”

You’d never thought of yourself as someone who enjoyed being praised but on her lips it sounded so good. You wanted to keep giving her reason to bestow more upon you.

“I know just the thing.”

You didn’t have to go far to get the book you were thinking of. Juggling the cat in your arms with the book you crouched to find, you managed to drop a kiss on the top of her head before releasing her to find more trouble to get in. Standing, you passed the book over to her, purposefully brushing your fingers against hers.

“I know it’s been made into a movie, but the book offers up something more,” you said.

“I’m unfamiliar with the movie,” she said.

“Not a fan of Tom Hiddleston?”

She raised an eyebrow at you and you tried your best not to read too much into it. It would be so easy to read too much into it. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much, if the way she was looking at you spoke to something more.

“Well, anyway,” you said, turning away from her to keep from doing something silly, “I hope it pleases you.”

“I’m sure it will,” she said.

When she turned away from the counter a few minutes later, a couple of your regulars stepped past her, giving her a wide berth. Trying not to show how strange you found their behaviour, you busied yourself straightening the display next to the counter.

“They shouldn’t let them around the rest of us,” one of the women said, uncaring of you listening in.

“They should be left up in that school to rot,” the other said, “they’re a danger to us all.”

“Outcasts have no business bringing their trouble to us,” the first said, before turning to you, “don’t you agree?”

You realised they were talking about your favourite customer. Who must be a teacher from Nevermore. Making her an outcast.

“I’ve never had any issue with them,” you replied evenly.

They both sniffed, turning away from you. You weren’t about to openly insult a portion of your customer base. That would clear out your shop quick smart.

You hadn’t realised she’s still been there to hear your response until the next week when she returned. Moppet was curled up in her basket by the window and you were going around watering the plants while you had a moment of peace. It was quiet in the shop, nothing but the soft sounds of music playing over the speakers and you moving through the stacks.

The bell above the front door rang and you smiled to yourself. You waited a few moments before turning, finding her watching you with an unreadable expression on her face at the end of the stack. You placed the watering can down, turning an expectant look on her. Only then the silence continued to stretch.

“You’ve returned,” you said when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything.

“I have,” she said.

“Did you enjoy Crimson Peak?” you asked.

“It was certainly atmospheric,” she replied.

“I suppose you’re looking for another recommendation?” you asked.

“I am,” she said.

“Nothing set in a boarding school right?”

You laughed. She didn’t. The moment stretched on and on, settling into an uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“I’m unused to people choosing to side with us in this town,” she said, her expression still unreadable to you.

“You heard that conversation,” you said. It wasn’t a question. You didn’t need to ask. It was obvious she had.

“If you’d rather, I can return to buying my books online,” she said.

“Why?” you asked, so taken aback by the turn the conversation had taken.

“I understand that normies are wary around outcasts,” she said, “this town has been… there have been issues between the school and the town.”

“I don’t want you to stop shopping here,” you said.

“You don’t care I’m from Nevermore?” she asked.

“Even teachers have to buy books. Why would your place of work matter?” you replied, shooting her a smile to let her know that of course it didn’t matter to you.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” she replied slowly, “although, in the name of honesty, I’m the principal, not a teacher.”

So this was Larissa Weems. You’d heard whispers of her around town, but hadn’t thought you’d met the woman yourself. Keeping away from some of the larger town gatherings had left her more of a machiavellian figure looming over the town from her place in the school.

Turns out, the rumours were completely overblown and they’d hidden the goddess you’d been finding yourself enchanted by more and more with ever encounter.

“Even better,” you said, “so, a new book recommendation?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

You graced her with a wide smile. You’d been thinking about it all week, the next book you’d recommend her. It was a bit of a risk, but you wanted to gauge her reaction to it.

“How familiar are you with early vampire fiction?” you asked, leading her off to your classics section.

“I’ve dabbled in Dracula,” she replied evenly.

“Anything else?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said and you found yourself pressing your lips together to keep from smiling too widely.

“I’ll be interested to hear your thoughts on this one,” you said, “especially since I’ve never met a vampire before. It’s probably completely inaccurate but writers take all kinds of liberties.”

She hummed but didn’t give you much more than that. You paused in front of the right shelf, a shiver of apprehension going through you. It might be a bad idea, giving her the book you were thinking of.

You reached up on tip toes, your fingers just brushing the spine of the book you wanted. You glanced to the side, looking for one of your trust step stools. A warm presence stepped up to your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat as she reached up, over your head, pulling down the book you’d tried to grasp. She was so close, practically caging you against the shelves. She paused a moment, that intense gaze sweeping down to you. The moment spun out like sugar, delicate and sweet, leaving you breathless.

“Was the the one you were looking for?” she asked, voice soft, almost intimate.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, “that’s the one.”

She took a step back, the book clutched in her hand. Glancing down, her eyebrows drew together and you wanted to know what she was thinking so desperately it was like a physical weight sitting on your chest.

“Carmilla?” she asked, looking back to you.

“One of the original vampire stories,” you said, “I know it’s not the longest but-“

“No, that will do nicely. I have a rather busy week coming up,” she said.

“I’m glad to help,” you said.

She lingered another moment and you weren’t sure what to say to her. The shop was quiet and it felt as if you were inhabiting a bubble of time with her that was seperate from the rest of reality.

“I’m unused to being shown such kindness from people like you,” she said.

“Bookshop owners?” you asked, “cat moms?”

Her smile was indulgent. It made your heart do a backflip and you realised maybe you could spend forever in that aisle with her.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” you said.

“Not everyone is as kind as you,” she said, looking down, refusing to meet your eye.

“They’re idiots,” you said, “your teenagers are no more a danger to us than Derrick who keeps setting fires.”

“I don’t scare you?” she asked, looking at you from under lowered lashes.

She did, but not in the way she was thinking. Just in the normal way that a beautiful woman giving you the time of day scared you. But you figured saying that out loud would be more embarrassing than you could handle at that time.

“No,” you said.

“Not even a little bit?” she asked.

“You’ve been nothing but pleasant to me so unless you’re about to threaten me, I think we’re good,” you said.

She took a step towards you and without thought you took one back. Your spine hit the shelves behind you and your mouth fell open as she crowded you against it. Her perfume surrounded you, her warmth curling around you, leaving you a mess as you stared up into her face. Her lips pulled up into a smirk, temptation never looking better.

“You don’t feel the least bit intimidated?” she whispered.

Her hand rested on the shelf by your head, effectively keeping you caged. Your heart beat hard in your chest and you were sure she could hear it. Her smirk deepened and you found yourself without words. You shook your head. There was no feeling of intimidation, but by god was there something. Something hot and throbbing and desperate.

Cold air hit you and it took a moment for you to realise she’d backed off, leaving you leaning on the shelves while you tried to get your knees to work again. Her face had returned to the unreadable expression and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. You tugged on your cardigan, wrapping it around your body like armour to save your vulnerable heart. You were worried it was on display for her, easy to see exactly how you were feeling.

“Did you want anything else?” you asked, not realising how it might sound until her eyebrow rose. Your cheeks heated and you looked down at your feet, your weight shifting from foot to foot.

“I think that’s all for today,” she answered, kindly not mentioning any of your odd behaviour from the last few minutes.

“I’ll just, uh, ring you up then,” you said, cheeks aflame, not able to look at her.

If you did, you might get lost in the thought of how close she’d been, the brush of her body so close, the feeling of her surrounding you. It would be too much for your poor heart, leaving it to beat right out of your chest. You did your best to ignore it as she paid and left your store for the overcast sky outside.

You didn’t see her again for a few weeks after that. The unhelpful voice in the back your head told you it was because she was completely disgusted by you. Between your behaviour and the recommendation you’d given, it wouldn’t have shocked you if you’d driven her from your store entirely. It left you in a funk, one deep enough for your usual customers to take note.

The free teas and baked goods from the Weathervane were appreciated throughout the days as you waited with bated breath to see if she’d come back.

It was on a day, weeks later, the night closing in on you as Halloween approached, once you’d given up all hope on seeing her again that the bell above your door jingled, a cold wind nipping at the heels of your customer. The lamps had been lit, a soft glow giving life to your store against the encroaching darkness. You sighed to yourself, wanting to lock up and wander upstairs, curling under a blanket with a book in hand to forget how quickly you ruined something that had been filled with such hope.

“I was worried you would be closed already.”

That voice, familiar, haunting your dreams, sweet enough to make your heart trip over itself. You spun, almost stumbling over your own feet, desperate to lay eyes on her and make sure it wasn’t an awful hallucination sent to torture you. Larissa stood in front of the counter, her smile slipping as your wide eyes met hers.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” you said.

“I’ve been… busy,” she replied.

There was a weariness to her you hadn’t seen before, like a weight had settled on her shoulders and she hadn’t yet grown accustomed to it. Your hands pressed into the cool wood of the counter, fingers splayed as you tried to remain cool. And yet your heart was racing.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “just the usual difficulties of being responsible for a school full of teenagers.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said.

“With an iron fist.”

Her weary smile lit you up from the inside out. You circled the counter, placing yourself firmly on the same side as her, wanting to be closer. Her eyes followed every step, brightening the closer you drew.

“I was just about to close up,” you said.

She wilted before your very eyes.

“My apologies. I’ll leave,” she said.

“No!” Your voice came out too loud, “I just meant, I could lock up and I could make you some tea. If you wanted. Not that I’m suggesting that that is something you want. But in case it is, I could.”

She chuckled, throaty and low, and a shiver went through your body. Your rambling was hardly the cool suave exterior you’d wanted her to see but you couldn’t help yourself. Around her you seemed to lose all sense of chill and instead turned into a mess of a person.

“I’d love that,” she said.

“Oh.” You perked up, “uh, wait here. I’ll go… close up shop.”

You left her there as you made your way to the front door. Flipping the sign and turning the lock, you looked out on the darkened street. The weather had turned, dark clouds rolling in, covering the moon until there was nothing but darkness pressing in against the window. You shivered, glad you weren’t out in the weather.

She was where you’d left her, inspecting the display of bookmarks you had on the counter. A woman in town made them, beautiful beaded monstrosities to keep your page. Her fingers idly played with one, purple beads contrasting with her pale skin.

“I’ll throw that in for free with your next purchase,” you said, “I have to reward my loyal customers.”

She offered you a small smile, letting the bookmark go.

“That’s very kind of you,” she said.

“Shall we have that tea?”

You led her over to the two armchairs set up for customers to sit in. The antique lamp was on, giving a warm circle of light.

“Um, I’m just going to go boil the water. Do you have a preference on tea type? Peppermint?” you asked.

“Peppermint sounds lovely,” she said.

You took the time for the water to boil in the backroom to try and calm down. It was normal. It was a cup of tea. Nothing to get worked up over. Just the woman you’d been enamoured with taking time out of her day to share a cup of tea with you. There was no need to make it into any more than it was.

You could be cool.

She was sitting in one of the armchairs, elegant in a way you’d never managed. You tried to keep the tremor from your hand as you passed over the cup. Her fingers brushed yours, gloveless again despite the chill of outside. Not that it was cold in your shop. You always made sure it was comfortable inside your four walls.

“What did you think of the book?” you asked as you settled in your own chair, legs curling up underneath you.

“It was certainly an interested read,” she said.

“Did you not like it?” you asked.

She looked at you a moment, those eyes seeing more than you wanted them to. You looked down into your cup, not wanting her to see how much the answer meant to you.

“I did. I found the relationship written between an outcast and a normie fascinating,” she said, slow, careful, as if putting a lot of thought into each word, “but then, I suppose given the time period, a relationship between two women could have been just as shocking.”

���I think it was ahead of its time,” you said.

“What makes you say that?” she asked.

“Because neither of those things matter.”

The way she was looking at you had any more words dying on your lips. It wasn’t that you’d surprised her, more that you’d confirmed something for her. Like you’d shown her a piece of the puzzle she knew you held. Like you were exactly who she thought you were.

“You really believe that, don’t you?” she asked, but you weren’t sure it was actually a question.

“Of course,” you replied.

She nodded, taking a sip from her cup. You followed suit, not sure what to fill the silence with.

“I was curious about your reasoning for suggesting this book to me,” she said when it became clear you had nothing else to say.

“I suppose… I wanted to see your reaction to it,” you admitted.

You looked up at her from under your lowered lashes, hoping to be able to read her expression this time. A look passed over her face, one that spoke of surprise mixed with smugness, not something you were used to seeing.

“I see,” she said.

“Do you?” you asked.

“I think I do,” she replied, “you wanted to see how I’d respond to a sapphic love story between an outcast and a normie.”

A spike of hope went through your heart.

“And how do you respond?” you asked.

“Rather favourably.”

Your fingers convulsively curled around the mug in your hand, the warmth from the ceramic seeping into your bones. Something in her gaze sparked fire in your veins and you felt breathless. She placed her cup down, the noise louder than it shouldn’t have been in the space.

“The first time I walked into this quaint little store, I thought you were the most precious thing in here,” she said, “it’s what kept me coming back. Although, I must say, there is something in the atmosphere of this place that evokes comfort.”

“I thought you were glorious,” you said, not considering the words before they left your lips.

“You did?” Her entire face lit up.

You nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something else, a loud bang came from the front of your shop. You jumped, hot liquid spilling over the skin of your hand. You hissed, placing the mug down before you could properly burn yourself.

She was there in an instant, reaching out for your hand, her fingers soft as they brushed over your skin. You tried to suppress a shiver. She tugged on your hand until you’d risen to your feet, hand closer to her face as she bent over it.

“I’m okay,” you said, “it was more the shock than anything else.”

“You’re not hurt?” Those blue eyes were so close.

“No.” You shook your head.

Her hand didn’t leave yours, the feel of her skin against yours making your head hazy. Even from so close up, she was still easily the most beautiful woman you’d seen and you yearned to close the small distance. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip again and you saw her gaze drag down to it. Your breath caught, the moment suspended in time as you waited to see what she would do.

“May I…”

The rest of her question never materialised. She was still watching your mouth and so you made the decision for her. Pushing up onto your tiptoes, your fingers tightening around hers, you pressed your lips to hers. She made a small noise and before you could pull away her other arm had curled around your waist, keeping you close to her.

You moaned into her mouth as she kissed you back more insistently. You curled your arms around her neck, your body flush with hers. The fire in your veins was igniting, lighting you up from the inside, threatening to burn you up. Her tongue swept into your mouth, her hands on your body leaving you a trembling mess.

Her hands found their way under your cardigan, palms warm through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t get close enough, wanting to feel every inch of her. She groaned into your mouth when you nipped at her lower lip.

A displease meow broke through the haze as something soft brushed against your ankle. You jerked back before chuckling at the indignant face glaring up at you. Moppet was making her feelings known in the only way she knew how.

“Sorry,” you said to her, “it’s getting close to someone’s dinner time.”

She chuckled and there was a sense of fondness in it that had your heart tripping over itself. Her fingers came up, brushing over the apple of your cheek before giving a soft tug on the end of your hair.

“I think your chaperone has the right idea. It’s gotten later than I intended and I’m sure I’m needed back at Nevermore,” she said.

You didn’t bother to hide your disappointment. She chuckled again, leaning forward to press her lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Her thumb ran along your lower lip, coming away stained red from where her lipstick had smudged against your skin. You nipped at the pad of her thumb as she drew it back, earning another smile from her.

“I’ll walk you out,” you said.

“Such chivalry,” she said and you were beginning to recognise when she was teasing.

You led her mack to the front door, flicking the lock to release her into the wind and the darkness. You wrinkled your nose at the large tree branch that had landed outside your door. She lingered, right on the threshold, and you found yourself gazing upon her.

“Tonight has been lovely,” she said.

“It has,” you agreed.

Her fingers under your chin, lifting for just a moment before she stepped out into the street. Your fingers clutched at the doorframe, knuckles aching with the cold and the tension.

“Wait.” She paused, turning to look at you over her shoulder, “you didn’t get a new book.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to come back tomorrow, then,” she said before striding away into the night.

Moppet meowed by your feet again. You sighed, closing the door and locking it against the encroaching night. Crouching, you lifted her into your arms, giving her a scratch behind the ear.

“I know, Moppet,” you said when she gave another little meow, “I’m so fucked.”

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Kafkaesque

Summary: On the flight back home, Spencer and Reader exchange books to read, and Spencer is surprised by your selection.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Funny, fluff-ish

Content warnings: Franz Kafka (i like him but whatever)

Word count: 1k

The team is on the jet heading back to Quantico after yet another successful case was solved. The tensions of a stressful arrest started to quell as only clusters of city light started to become their only view for the rest of the flight. Morgan has already passed out listening to music, taking up two seats for himself, while Hotch, Emily, Rossi, and J.J. stay occupied by playing poker. Their banter filled the cabin along with the sound of shuffling cards, and actual chips were exchanged instead of poker chips.

You and Spencer, on the other hand, decided this was the perfect time for reading. You had been discussing the idea of exchanging books to get each other’s opinion, since you two are the only consistent readers among your colleagues (and also because Spencer’s banned from playing poker for cheating (again)).

You only briefly got to start each other’s selection before landing, but now there was plenty of time to cross some of the short stories of Sherlock Holmes off your TBR. Considering you were reading in the same space, you expected this to be more of a challenge. Because Spencer is a fast reader. A notoriously fast reader. To the point where Hotch has prevented him from reading while questioning witnesses. The speed at which he combs through books knocks off their focus. You’ve seen it yourself, so much that it’s not as funny as it was when you started here.

Nevertheless, you explore the world of Sherlock Holmes. As you turned the pages, you marveled at the intricacies of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s storytelling. The deductive prowess of Holmes and the vivid depiction of Victorian London transport you to another time and place. Andrew Scott’s charismatic portrayal of Moriarty in the TV adaptation flickered through your mind, though you wisely kept that observation to yourself. Last time, Spencer gave a passionate lecture on the discrepancies between books and television adaptations, citing difference in attention spans, and you had no desire to open that can of worms again.

Amid the familiar hushed ambiance of the cabin, you felt a familiar sensation—the piercing gaze of someone fixated on you. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, whether it was the malevolent eyes of criminals from afar of the intense scrutiny across an interrogation table. You tore your attention away from the pages of your book to meet Spencer’s eyes. His expression was contemplative, yet he was less than a third through the book.

“Wanna trade already?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“No, no,” Spencer replied, his lips pursed as he continued to study you.

You raised a brow. “Any questions I could answer?”

“How did you come across him?” He held up your book, “The Complete Short Stories” by Franz Kafka.

“Oh,” you shrugged, “just those angsty high school years, you know?”

Spencer’s nose wrinkled at that. No, he, in fact, did not know what you meant. Because he wasn’t old enough to have angsty high school years. And if he did have any at all, they would have been during college—neither period of his life he cared to recall.

“You’ve seriously never picked up Franz Kafka?” You asked him. “You? Spencer Reid? The equivalent of a human encyclopedia?”

“Only some of his short stories were used for college lectures.”

“Okay.” You feigned a laugh. “So what’s the problem?”

“What was your childhood like, Y/N?”

Your face widened in shock before a sly smirk emerged. “Are you seriously profiling me because of my favorite author? That’s absurd!” The urge to playfully smack him surfaced, but the goodness of your heart made you resist (also because this isn’t your book you’re holding). “Kafka enthusiasts come in all forms, you know. Like everybody else.”

“He’s your favorite author?” Spencer chuckled, still very surprised.

You nodded. “And what about it?”

“You’re just so… happy all the time.”

You cocked your head to the side. A small laugh slipped out as you said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Reid. Should I have brought ‘The Adventures of Strawberry Shortcake’ to help maintain your image of me?”

“No! I mean…” Your shared laughter briefly interrupted his train of thought. “It’s just not what I expected from you.”

“Hm.” You settled back in your seat, opening the book to where your thumb rested between the pages. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” You’re ready to get back to reading, but you still look at Spencer.

His eyes sparkled, and the curiosity of something becoming more complex than intended makes his brain run for miles. “Perhaps I don’t.”

As the jet continued its steady course back to Quantico, you and Spencer settled into cozy companionship, growing more familiar with each trip. The ambiance remained peaceful, with the faint hum of the engines serving as soothing background noise for your literary exploration.

You find yourself engrossed in the world of Sherlock Holmes once more, relishing in the intricate puzzles and razor-sharp deductions. Andrew Scott continued to dance in your mind from time to time, a testament to the power of well-crafted adaptations (excluding season four. You never told Spencer there was a fourth season).

You were also increasingly aware of Spencer’s presence beside you. Instead of the prickling sensation of having eyes on you, his knee brushed lightly against yours, sending tingles through your body, along with zero doubt it was accidental, considering this guy hesitates to shake hands. He still took the time to look at you after some moments of reading, as if he were deducing what certain Kafka works in that book could mean to you exactly. He flipped through the pages—actually reading—like he would find the answers.

You heard him swallow. “So, uh, why is he a roach in this one?”

“Because that’s how he feels.” You knocked your knee against him this time. “Just keep reading, Spencer. We’ll discuss it after.”

You watched him bite his lips closed as he tried to suppress a smile.

[forestleavescat]

Moominvalley: Or Not at All

A long post about Moominvalley through the different seasons. Planning, potential, promises, and outcomes.

This won’t go super far into detail about season 4 but it will talk about a certain outcome as well as handling of characters and relationships. If you don’t want any spoilers or info on the fourth season steer clear

(I’m not the best with titles)

I watched season 4 of moominvalley last night and I was pretty dang disappointed in how certain things were handled. Don’t get me wrong. There was some nice stuff. But it still felt like it was largely missing what made me love the show so much from the start. As well as things I had been looking forward to from the books. Above all else, I feel like their handling of the fandom’s favorite pairing was bad. I can’t even begin to put into words how upset I am since gutsy and by extension moominvalley felt like a company that wouldn’t do this. I want to put my thoughts on paper so to speak. 

It’s insanely disappointing to know that this company has been queerbaiting since day one. This show is a huge comfort to me and it was nice to watch since it helped me feel more at ease with my own sexuality. But now that feeling has been largely reversed because I know that those moments were manufactured to sell the show only for them to drop them by the end. So let’s look at things

Queer coding has existed for a long time. It’s helped creators give hints and nods to a character’s identity or hints of a relationship when times and places don’t exactly allow for it. There are many stories that have queer coding and give this beautiful subtext that those in the community can enjoy. Even though it would remain ambiguous whether a character was gay or two men or women were dating, the coding allowed it to be suggested even when it wasn’t allowed given the time period. 

Queerbaiting is almost the opposite of this. Queerbaiting comes about more from existing in a time or place where it is accepted but instead of giving genuine representation, a person uses the desire to see that representation to sell a product. Moments between characters that are clearly more than friendship only to disappear - often replaced by a hetero pairing. (Tbf the character who was implied to have feelings for someone of the same gender would still be bi or pan but it stings when the idea of something between two people of the same gender was suggested but removed) Queerbaiting has been an extremely frustrating thing to experience in fandom spaces. Series like voltron, sherlock, supernatural, etc. You get invested in these characters. There’s a possibility and every moment that suggests it could be more gets you hooked. Similar to how miraculous viewers became invested in the romance that’s hinted since day one. If you put the time and effort into using that for a story and draw people in with it only to take it away it’s bordering false advertising. It sucks because you spent time caring about it and waiting to see how it would play out. 

I mean just look at this. The moominvalley team did this deliberately. I mean, they included that one scene in the teaser which made it seem like more snufmin. It felt like a taste of what the season would offer but in reality it was one of few crumbs. And I mean crumbs. Because compared to the other seasons there was hardly anything. Their moments didn’t have this underlying feeling that they usually did. Every other season felt like it had underlying feelings to be explored. But here it became hollow. And snufkin took a backseat to a lot of the action this season

 But they definitely knew that the fans were interested in this pairing. It’d be tough to get into the moomins without knowing about this part of the story and community. And they acknowledged this idea of moomin and snufkin multiple times in interviews and qnas. 

And voice actors aren’t the ones who decide but there were more than just vas discussing this.

This series started off with their relationship. Episode one ended with the first mention of snufkin who’d be returning to the valley in the very next episode. That entire second episode gave a clear look into how their relationship would develop throughout the series. Moomin waiting for snufkin longingly while snufkin took his time until showing up felt right all while missing moomintroll. This episode has a sort of sense that there could be something more to them. Especially seeing as moomin is more focused on snufkin than snorkmaiden, his love interest. The following episode gives us this:

And while moomin wants the dragon to be his loyal pet, we know that “And just promise me this, that you'll give me all your kisses Every winter, every summer, every fall”

is referring to somebody other than that. This leaned much heavier into the potential for something beyond friendship between them.

There are the usual moments that could go either way, with focus between them and close contact.

This is more similar to other adaptations where they have a clear, close relationship. But in most of those you could come to love the pairing but you generally know they won’t do something unambiguous. Just the occasional scene that could be read as potentially romantic.

Moominvalley doesn’t strictly stick to this though. It feels similar to the original works where there is something ambiguously there. Then it further implies that there will be something important between them storywise. You get Tooticky saying that there are other lost souls waiting to be heard before the camera cuts to Snufkin leaving the valley alone.

And this didn’t really get fulfilled in any real way. Yet it implies that the future of the series will go in a direction where moomin is the one to help snufkin in some way. That part isn’t even romantic, but it goes to show that they stopped focusing on this important connection between them.

Their relationship in season 2 continues very beautifully. Moomin immediately wants to go make sure snufkin is okay when the volcano’s gonna erupt. There’s an entire conversation that highlights their difference of perspective with loving vs possessing in regards to the ruby and the hobgoblin. Something that is linked to their relationship and things they need to figure out. Then when they have to leave the valley, moomin wonders if he’ll ever see snufkin again. On top of that, he and snorkmaiden have their break up.

Which I want to talk about their relationship a bit. A majority of the episodes that feature them as leads do it with a wedge between them. Their relationships is honestly not great going both ways. They clash and are generally unhappy. And usually moomin has to apologize for something that doesn’t exactly feel is entirely on him. Little My I get. I mean he didn’t think the note would get to mymble but this was still a genuine mess up on his part. But he ended up on a rock in the middle of the sea over the ghost episode. And snorkmaiden spends much of their time making a home together getting angry because he misses his family and hasn’t come to terms with saying goodbye to them. There are times they’re together where he’s selfish and she’s just angry at him. They don’t feel like a happy couple to cheer for. Back in 90s moomins I actually did like them. They were cute. I was a bit divided between that and snufmin because there were these moments that really did count for a lot and had such a wholesome feeling. But moominvalley honestly made me cheer for a break up. Meanwhile, he and snufkin have this relationship that they’re navigating in moominvalley. They don’t argue much even when they have different perspectives. Moomin admires snufkin and in some ways tries to emulate him. But all while still being his own moomin and figuring himself out.

The two are still given parallels in little moments such as zooming in when they take each other’s hands.

So back to season 2 and how it handled snufmin. When moomin leaves the valley we see snufkin dealing with that absence for a change. He begins to understand how moomin feels when he’s gone. While he’s at the moomin house he seems pretty in his element for the most part. He seems happy to play along and give toffle an idea of what the moomin family was like. But in that there are scenes where he’s looking for a note. We see bits of how much he misses moomin and wants to know where his friend has gone and when he’ll be back. This is the beginning of a shift in their relationship. Because snufkin gets to feel what moomin feels like. And when he hears that the moomins are coming his face lights up the way moomintroll’s would.

They’re often portrayed in a way that shows that they’re the most important person to the other. There’s this sort of soft undertone that seems to suggest feelings. And all while their relationships grows and changes and they become all the better for it.

Also there’s this

Season 3!

Season 3 felt like there was a change in direction. I feel at this point that there was deliberate queerbaiting but I also know that there was a shift somewhere around season 3. We got the music cut. The voice actor for moomin changed. There were some adjustments with the writing team. But they still deliberately put in scenes with this duo. And with romantic framing. I could be convinced that season 1 and 2 were made with the idea of them as endgame in some capacity. That the queerbaiting wasn’t from day 1 and that it began here. There were really great moments with them. But it feels like they shoehorn snorkmaiden in as a romantic interest again. A lot of episodes with her here don’t exactly make it explicit but there are some that nail it in. They reunite and it almost feels like they’re back together again without a full conversation. Especially with the final episode. I feel like the narrative would’ve been richer if they hadn’t done that considering the way they’ve been building snufmin up.

But I’ll focus on moomin and snufkin for now. When snufkin sees moomin again moomin goes for the greeting he’s been used to but snufkin gives him a hug. That description alone won’t do it justice though. The music rises as it zooms in on their eyes as they make their way to each other. When snufkin hugs moomin you can see the joy from both of them. It shows how their greetings and by extension their relationship has evolved over the seasons.

And then it cuts to snorkmaiden.

This becomes a notable pattern in season 3. It’ll give a really meaningful scene that pushes snufkin and moomin in a more romantic light only to undercut it by reminding you that snorkmaiden is here. It’s at this point where it feels like they know a ton of fans are here for snufmin. They include the pairing. But they also seem to be reminding us that snorkmaiden is here to stay and in a more romantic way. But there’s still this hope, especially if you recall everything from seasons 1 and 2 and the way that they felt. Especially if you rewatch them right before watching season 3. And the show very clearly uses that and makes it feel like there’s a chance. Makes the viewers hope and stick around to find out.

So let’s go through season 2. Moomin and snufkin make some progress on their relationship. They’ve switched positions now and have more of an idea of how the other feels when one of them leaves. And from there they communicate that. Especially moomin. This is shown to a degree in the episode with the fairgrounds. Again in lonely mountain. There are also little nods here and there about their relationship. But again. Lonely mountain is the big one. It starts with little my getting on moomin’s case for worrying over his ‘precious snufkin’

As usual moominmama also seems to act like she knows there’s something more to his relationship with snufkin. Papa remains oblivious though. There’s a parallel between the parents and snufmin too. But the most well known part is this

look. there’s nothing remotely platonic about this. This is one of those things that someone straight and homophobic could detect. The point where they’d stop arguing ‘they’re just friends’ because there’s no way that’s all. I mean just listen to moomin’s “yes” when snufkin goes to add something. There’s so much hope and feeling in that word that I would love to get my hands on the script to find the voice direction for that. I mean come on

And better yet it ends with an interruption so we know they’ll have a whole heart to heart later. A conversation where they lay out their feelings. The feelings that were clearly present here.

Except they don’t

Anyway the season goes on. Moomin, snufkin, and obligatory third wheel sniff go on a journey to take the sun back after it was stolen. They get it back and the season ends with a beautifully queer scene that promises more to come from these two.

Except that a few minutes prior snorkmaiden calls moomin her soulmate and they have their usual thing. And even after snorkmyden really did get some good content this season.

Look, I know that snorkmyden was probably not on their minds throughout production. There’s a difference between the way they handle snufmin and the way they handle snorkmyden. Both duos get great development in their relationships but while there are a ton of cute moments between snorkmaiden and little my, it never feels like there’s a focus on making that endgame. It feels more like snufmin did in some of the other adaptations - something with cute moments and a genuine bond that could be seen as romantic but it’s highly unlikely it won’t be. I want to say this since this series didn’t feel that way for snufmin. It felt like the first chance of it working out fully. I put a lot of scenes in here showing it but the first two season really show it in a way clips and gifs can’t. There’s just so much there and it’s beautiful and sweet. It feels hopeful for them.

Until season 4. Season 4 feels like the team shrugged off all of it. They step even further away. It’s like season 3 but without any of the scenes between them. Suddenly, you’re looking at scenes between them where they talk and have physical contact but the deeper feelings are completely gone. It’s like the anime. Where you can smile about it and think ‘aw them’ but you know it won’t happen. They heavily lean to snorkmaiden and moomin instead. This is the final season. They know people will watch to see if moomin and snufkin go anywhere romantically. And even if people don’t finish it, they’ve got people paying for memberships just to see if it happens. So it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t happen. Because they’ve secured the views and the money.

I do want to say that when I refer to it as becoming canon I don’t know if they’d call each other boyfriends or even kiss. But I would expect them to acknowledge it as there being something more. Like the series ending with them having a discussion about how much they mean to each other. Something that shows they’ll go into the future and continue to get close. Physical closeness like a hug or one putting his hand on the others or even just leaning against each other. Whatever it would be I’d expect more than this. Because they very clearly built these two to be inseparable in that one required the other to undergo their full arc. The show starts with a promise that their relationship will be close to the story. But then season 4 hardly shows snufkin at all

This is what queerbaiting is. And I never expected it to happen with this series. Not after the team talked about it with care. It’s such a gut punch after waiting for five years to see how it’d turn out. I don’t know if they always intended it to be a way to bring in customers. Maybe it was initially going to work out but they changed it between season 2 and 3. I don’t know. But this. This really is queerbaiting. We live in a time where gay relationships are more accepted. They show up in the media more. We’re finally at a time where this relationship could be made more explicit instead of having this ambiguously romantic subtext. And if someone made a new adaptation of moomins and didn’t do that, that would be perfectly and completely fair and okay. If they didn’t consistently imply that there could and even would be something more. But here they used a very old and well loved pairing to gather fans and make money only to never have it come to fruition. Season 4 of moominvalley felt like companies on july 1st. I literally can’t think of a better comparison for how it feels. The first video starts with the quote “The Spring Tune is where we say that this series is going to be different. That you’re going to have to wait and give it time and just be patient. And wait for the story to unfold.”

And so many people did. But then it turned out like this. And I don’t know if that was always the intention. Because it feels like that interview was suggesting that it would go in that direction. But heck. The whole series up until season 3 felt like it would go in that direction. And then it didn’t.

Gay representation is something that has a huge positive impact on the lgbtq community. Even more so on the world overall since it allows people to see these relationships and shows that it’s okay for people to be gay. And it would be even nicer for a series that started off with that subtext got the full representation now that we’re in more accepting times. And it felt like it would be even more meaningful with recent treatment of gay stories.

Our flag means death was cancelled, shadow and bone, the owl house had its final season drastically shortened, good omens is only getting a single episode for their finale

Many are just getting dropped and in a time where this community needs them more than ever. These are shows that make people feel seen. Shows that bring a feeling of joy and comfort and acceptance. And it’s even worse to see that there’s still queerbaiting now. This could’ve had such a beautiful ending and likely would’ve been loved for many years to come if they committed to what they’d built up all this time. How could someone take a series created by a woman who not only added subtext in her original stories but was bi, and use it to build up a romantic story just to bring in money and then toss all that development away. I don’t know what else to say other than this is queerbaiting. And the gay community deserves better. I really did believe that moominvalley would do better by us.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Reading the book, and I'm already loving it. I agree with a lot of the things y'all say in it (players control the characters, not the narrator, etc.), but I was surprised at the strong insistence on 3rd person play.

Personally I like 1st person play because it helps me with immersion. If I play in 3rd person then my mental camera goes 3rd person, which feels more like playing a video game and removes that thrill of embodying someone else and living in a new world.

Usually I see people either take a strong pro 1st person stance, or a noncommittal stance, but this is the first time I've come across a game that insists on the 3rd person. I'm curious about the reasoning behind it. Was it just a philosophical decision, or did it bear out in playtesting that 3rd person was the better method? In the book y'all acknowledge that 3rd person play doesn't eliminate the threat of griefing from bad faith players.

Y'all clearly put a lot of thought into the game, so that really interested me. Could be a good learning opportunity!

I passed this on to one of our team and this is what she had to say:

In addition to our own home table just preferring to play in 3rd person, we believe that perspective is an important element of TTRPGs that doesn't get explored very often in the modern landscape. The games we play are composed of language - not just the words on the page, but the words we say at the table. Changing the verbiage will create a different emotional space, and a different experience. That zoomed out mental camera you describe is part of the point! In any TTRPG, players are always two things: participant, and audience. The narration we employ at the table affects the game world, yes, but we are also the only people there to see it play out. Eureka strongly emphasizes the "audience" side of that equation, and wants to frame the "participant" side as an act of authorship and discovery rather than one of inhabiting the world.

Just on a fundamental level, perspective is a defining part of any media - the camera angle in a movie or video game, the person of a book's prose, who tells the story, and who they tell it for. The way we frame a story changes the response it evokes. As you say, you've seen either strong pro-1st-person stances or neutral ones, but not a strong pro-3rd-person stance. I don't think that's because 1st person is inherently better for this sort of game, I think its because there is a tendency in the hobby right now - for a variety of reasons - to treat TTRPGs like a form of improv theater. That's not a problem in isolation per se, but I think it's one that limits what the medium can be or do. TTRPGs can be improv theater, but is that all they can be?

On a final note, we have also seen the insistence on 1st-person play and the approach of "embodying" a character occasionally cause real harm when the people involved have trouble separating player and character. That's also part of the reason we're so insistent about these being two separate people, because investigators tend to do some pretty messed up things (this being a horror focused game, after all), and we don't want people equivocating their friends with the characters they play when that level of emotional intensity is involved. Many people who play in 1st person are able to engage with that in a healthy way and understand the difference, of course, but I think it's hard to deny that the language makes that equivocation easier.

- @ashweather (person from out team who doesn't normally run this blog)

Adding on myself, another thing that I always like to bring up in this discussion is that first-person verbiage did not used to be so universal! Playing in the hobby even 4 or 5 years ago, you'd see (or at least I would see) a mix of third and first person verbiage at tables, and even people who used both interchangably. It's only in the past few years that third-person verbiage for TTRPGs has gone practically extinct, and i think most of the blame lies at the feet of big-budget "actual play" shows like Critical Role being many people's only reference for how a TTRPG can be played. Critical Role uses first-person, so therefor that's how TTRPGs are played.

I've even had people tell me on multiple separate occassions "that's wrong" when I'm trying to use third-person verbiage for TTRPGs, when playing with rulebooks which explicitly say in their text early on "you can use 1st or 3rd person to describe your character's actions"! (most, if not all, D&D edition rulebooks say this!)

In closing, yeah, if Eureka were a video game, it would be in third-person. Eureka doesn't want you in its world, it wants a character.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David and Michael in the interview with Ali Plumb for BBC Radio 1, 10th July 2023

I compared it with it's podcast version and there are some bits that are cut out in the video 👀 but I added them into the transcript ❤ 🐍😊 .

AP: If you're thinking I'm the kind of guy that rocks up to a Good Omens interview with...

Michael: With the book.

David: Oh, well done.

Michael: We'd be correct.

AP: Yeah.

[GOS2 Promo]

AP: So after such a successful and well received first series, what gives you guys?

David: Why risk it?

AP: Why risk it.

Michael: What gives you the right?!

AP: What gives you the cojones to do another one?

Michael: I know.

AP: How dare you?

Michael: It's terrible. When I wrote it.... Well, no, I mean, that's the thing, really, I mean, it's Neil and Terry's baby. And we'd always known that they'd gone beyond the world of the first book. In fact, there's stuff that's not in the first book, in the first series. So Gabriel is a character, you know, who's not there. So we'd always known that there was a lot more.

David: The ideas, the threads.

Michael: Exactly. And they even had a name for a sequel. 668: The Neighbour of the Beast. Which is hilarious.

[A cut out part that is not in the video, but you can listen to in the podcast version of it:

AP: Just take, write the joke and then work it out later.

Michael: The best Good Omens joke isn't even in the Good Omens book.

David: Yeah.

Michael: And so we knew there was all that. So I think given that, that gave certainly us the confidence to know that we were in, you know, safe hands.

David: Yeah.

Michael: And I think gave Neil the sense that it was worth exploring, going further, because I think without that, he would never have done it. If he didn't feel that Terry was part of that ride as well, then I don't think he would have gone on it.

]

AP: At the risk of reading from the scripture, this is what's in the hardback copy of Good Omens: 'Why isn't there a sequel? Neil: Well, we know how the sequel goes. We played around with the idea whilst we were on tour. We even discussed a few scenes, but we could never quite work up the enthusiasm. It'd have been fun. We'd split the cash. But we both had other things to do'.

Michael: Yes. It's very much how we felt, isn't it? We'll split the cash.

David: Yeah.

AP: And run.

Michael: You know, and if we got nothing else on.

David: Well, yeah.

Ap: And you kind of enjoy each other's company?

Michael: I mean, enjoy is a strong word.

David: We're very good at faking it.

AP: Actors. I love it.

David: Yeah, exactly, exactly.

Michael: Yeah, exactly.

AP: When, outside of a show's context or the film's context, have you felt physically, visually the silliest? Because I think in this show there have to be moments. Green screen, full orange wig hair, that you go, no one take a photo of me right now.

David: The opening scene of Season Two is set in space and we're dressed as sort of old fashioned-

Michael: That makes it sound like sort of an episode of Blakes 7 or something, it's not Sci-Fi space, is it?

David: There's nothing wrong with that.

Michael: No, there's nothing... I mean I love it.

David: Jesus,

AP: Are you stepping up saying Sci-Fi's rubbish at this-

Michael: No, no, no! Of course not! No. But what I'm saying is-

David: I don't know who this is

Michael: David is making it sound like it's like Aziraphale and Crowley are in a rocket ship.

David: It is set in space!

Michael: Well, yeah.

David: First series set in space! You can't... it's just factual.

Michael: But not like space 1999.

David: Just space.

AP: It's pure, undiluted space.

David: It's set in space. In fact, it is undiluted space. And for that, we were dressed as a traditional angel in a sort of nighties...

Michael: Yes, we weren't in silver spandex.

David: We were in nighties.

Michael: We were.

David: And we were strapped to make this floating in space - and they didn't have this on Blakes 7 - we were strapped onto these gurneys and moved up and down.

[hehe bonus pic :)]

Michael: I had a jetpack.

[again, cut out in the video but present in the podcast version

David: I mean, it looks beautiful. The finished, the finished piece.

Michael: It was very odd, wasn't it? Yes. We were both sort of just like.

David: Yes.

Michael: Hovering around each other.

David: And it was, it was ignoble. Some of the being strapped in and out.

Michael: It was. Yeah.

]

AP: At least it's not Jon Hamming into a room... full Hamm.

[GOS2 Promo]

[again, cut out in the video but present in the podcast version

David: The naked Hamm? The naked Hamm was... yeah. He seemed pretty...

Michael: He seemed very relaxed.

AP: He insisted on spending more scenes in that costume.

]

Michael: That was never in the script.

David: No, he just turned up on set.

Michael: That's how he showed up.

David: I had an idea, guys!

Michael: Yes. No, there's lots to look forward to.

AP bursts out laughing: Sorry.

Michael: And lots to look back on.

AP: This second series, having a little bit more wiggle room in terms of where you might be able to take the characters, I think it's fair enough to say. Do you feel more active input.

[again, cut out in the video but present in the podcast version

AP: Into where they might go? Because to me, they strike as having a very strong Woody and Buzz factor of...

David: Right.

AP: Bear with me here. You're both not very good at your jobs.

David: How dare you?

AP: It's true. One's no angel. One's far from evil.

David: That's true.

AP: And you kind of are fudging it constantly.

]

AP: Do you feel you have more room to kind of fudge here and fudge there and really muck about with the characters now?

Michael: I mean, I every day when we start, I like to first of all say, Neil, I've got no interest in hearing what you're going to say. This is what I think should happen.

David: Yeah.

Michael: I mean, the thing is, when you've got Neil Gaiman writing it-

David: Yeah.

Michael: -you should have just go, off you go, mate.

David: The last thing you want to do is start putting in your ideas. You don't want to limit anything that's going to come out.

Michael: It's like brain. It's like when Ringo says, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

AP: Yesterday, I have notes.

Michael: Listen, listen to what I've come up with.

AP: There's too much guitar in this.

David: Yeah.

AP: More drums.

David: Yeah.

Michael: Yeah. I think one of the things about Neil that is so wonderful is that he is so open and generous with ideas,

David: Yes.

Michael: and he's so not precious about what he's written. He is very respectful of what he and Terry created and is probably a bigger fan than any other fan, but he's not precious about it and he's very open to collaboration. In fact, he's probably the most collaborative

David: Yes.

Michael: I'd ever come across in my life.

David: Yes, absolutely.

Michael: So he loves watching what other people bring to the table, not just actors, but, you know, designers, everyone. And then I think he takes from that and is influenced by that. So it's very collaborative in that sense.

David: Yes. But if we influenced where the characters went in season two, it was sort of circumstantially.

AP: Right.

Michael: Yeah.

David: It was sort of by the act of what happened during season one and getting to know Neil and getting to know each other. But the great joy for us is turning up to these wonderful scripts and going, oh, I get to take this character here now. What a lark.

[again, cut out in the video but present in the podcast version

Michael: I mean, I wrote some very stern emails to him.

David: Yeah.

Michael: Which I was glad to see that he totally ignored.

AP: Screen time for me.

Michael: Yes, exactly.

AP: I like to think the 'I was right, or rather, you were right and I was wrong' dance was organic in the moment, not in the script. And could you give us a quick how might I recreate that beautiful...

David: Absolutely not. No. I worked with the choreographer for some days.

Michael: It's true.

David: Yeah.

Michael: It's true. And am I right in saying that... I wonder if this exists? But when we were filming it, didn't I, on the last take, I made you do it once with you thinking that you were doing it for real, but actually it wasn't for real. It was just so I could do.

David: It was so you could have-

Michael: So I could Strictly Come Dancing [british dance contest]-

David: Exactly that. Does it exist? I think it does exist.

Michael: It must have actually built... I had cards made with scores on them and David, God bless him, came in and did the whole thing again, thinking that he was doing it for the filming. And in fact, it was literally just so at the end I could go, 'SEVEEEEEEN'! [It was filmed, hehe, see here :)]

David: Yeah. But I don't want Amazon to think we're wasting your production...

AP: Money and time. No.

David: And it will show up on a blooper reel somewhere.

Michael: There was no film. There was no film.

AP: It was definitely not a waste of time. No, absolutely not.

]

AP: What would you say the fans have responded most to from the first series when you meet them at comic cons or on social media or what have you? Are there moments from the first series where they love talking about that scene?

Michael: Well, I think people really enjoy the going through history stuff, don't they? I mean, we thoroughly.

David: We certainly do. There's just something about the characters and their relationship, though, that seems to have just caught fire. I mean the amount of...

AP :I won’t read some ot the stories I’ve glanced upon.

David: Right.

AP: Yes. Fanfiction is quite….

David: Oh, I see. Oh that is not for us to read.

Michael: Oh I read it all.

AP: Oh you should. You write most of it, right?

Michael: I write most of it.

David: But it's lovely to see. And I have seen more than I can count. Aziraphale and Crowleys showing up. People dressed and always in twos, always in pairs.

Michael: Yes.

David: You know, and that's lovely. And that seems to absolutely encapsulate what the whole show is about, I think.

AP: Tattoos, fan art.

David: Definitely, yes. Seen a couple of tattoos.

Michael: Yeah.

AP: Yeah. Do you get fans in the street quoting lines or just pointing and staring? Because you two together can't really walk down the street.

David: Michael doesn't walk anywhere.

Michael: Those days are long gone.

AP: Jackpack.

David: Yeah.

Micheal: Yeah.

AP: Yeah, that's fair.

Michael: Well, I get a lot of ‘To the world’.

David: Oh, yes. Nice.

Michael: People like to… yeah.

David: Yeah.

Michael: And 'You go too fast, Crowley.’

David: Ooh.

Michael: There’s a lot of that. That gets jumped around.

AP: What about... and this is a kind of BAFTA winning question, so just send it my way.

David: Wow.

AP: Would you say these characters are in your top three most fun characters you've ever played? Because they strike me as being... I'd probably play these characters forever if I could.

Michael and David: Yeah.

Michael: This is like on what's that show when people have to say whether they want to date each other again? You go first. Top three?

David: I mean...

AP: Number two...one?

David: It'd be a weird scenario to say it wasn't.

AP: Yeah, I agree.

David: In this situation.

AP: Yeah.

David: To start something: well, I mean, it's sort in the little twenties. But... No, we did have an irresponsible amount of fun.

Michael: Yes. Not really like working.

AP: No.

Michael: I mean, I very much hope that we eventually get to, in one way or another, in one form or another,

David: Yeah.

Michael: get to play them just very, very old. And it may well be... I mean, we joke about doing a theatrical tour.

AP: And swapping.

David: I'm not joking. I'm not joking about that.

Michael: No.

David: It's a lovely little retirement plan.

Michael: I know.

AP: I'm dead keen on Good Omens 666. I think...

Michael: Oh!

AP: It's just there.

Michael: Yes.

David: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

AP: Think about it. Post apocalyptic...

Michael: Part, like Good Omens 1, 2, 3, all the way up to 666. I mean, that's a long running series. That's longer than Frasier.

AP: Big words. If a bad joke's worth telling. 666.

Michael: Telling over and over again.

AP: Over and over and over.

David: Yeah.

AP: Guys, I'm going to ask you one last favour as I wrap things up, which is I have at the front of this book, one Mr. Neil Gaiman.

[shows a copy of Good Omens signed by Neil Gaiman].

AP: He signed it and he said as he often does: Ali, have a good doomsday. Would you care to deface?

Michael: I heard the other day that someone went to interview George Harrison and the person who interviewed him said, would you mind signing this record? Whatever it know, the white album, whatever. And he went, do you want them all? And they used to all write each other's name, all sign each other's names.

David: Wow.

Michael: Because they had to do it so much.

David: Do you want to do mine?

Michael: Just get Neil to do that.

AP: Could you please sign as your man? I'll be very lucky.

Michael: On a different page.

AP: You pick your own page, deface as you will.

Michael: Yeah. Look at that. I do a little halo.

David: Oh, that's given me an idea.

Michael: Oh look at that, yeah.

AP: And then while I'm here, I'm going to do the super unprofessional thing of asking for a photograph, if that's allowed.

David: Yeah.

Michael: Oh, look at that.

David: That's perfect.

Michael: That's nice, isn't it?

AP: Beautiful. Would you mind helping me out?

David: Do you see what we've done there, Ali?

AP: Oh, thank you!

Michael: And yours is D for...

AP: I'm going to kneel behind you.

David: Sure.

Michael: I thought I should turn my M into wings.

David: Oooh.

Michael: This is, this is...

AP: Guys, as you may have worked out, big fan.

David: Cheers, Ali.

[rose-edith]

Being in love with Anthony Bridgerton and being set-up with him would include:

•I mean, who of the ladies of the ton aren’t in love with Anthony Bridgerton? He is THE catch of the social season.

•you can’t help but stare longingly at him every time he enters or leaves a room. Which naturally, both Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton notice, and they start plotting with glee.

•as a daughter of the L/N’s you’ve been friends with the Bridgerton family for years! Every summer you had visited each other at each others country estates. You’d played in the mud with Daphne, read to Eloise, learnt how to tickle for trout with Colin and Benedict, and Anthony…he’d been your first ever dance partner when you had been presented and attending Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. What a moment that had been! The feeling of his fingers against your arm had been burnt into your brain, and you’d not stopped glowing and grinning for the whole night!

•so when you and your Mama received a card to visit the Bridgerton’s for dinner one evening, it was hardly out of the norm, it was all very exciting and pleasant.

•you arrived and saw the dining room had been set with incredible splendour; flowers, candles, crystal candelabra- suddenly you’d felt very glad that your Mama had trussed you up like a chicken in the finest silks and jewels, hair curled just the way you love.

•as the host, you would’ve expected Anthony to be there to greet you; but he was flabbergasted when you arrived- Lady Bridgerton on the other hand, swept your mother away, leaving Anthony to escort you. Oh how you loved her in that moment!

•dinner was perfect. Sat on Anthony’s left side, you could laugh and chat and things were the same as they always had been. He was your best friend, but more than that, he was the man you loved.

•from the other end of the table, your Mama, Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury raised their glasses to each other.

•you didn’t want the evening to end- you’d delighted to room with a pianoforte duet with Hyacinth, laughed with Eloise and listened to Colin. But most importantly, you’d been locked in a corner with Anthony, discussing books, farming developments and how the lambing season had been. Anthony found himself utterly bewildered. You’d always been so easy to talk to, but tonight you were glowing, you fit in…his mind turned to marriage.

•the next day the biggest bouquet of flowers had arrived for you and your mother, delivered by hand by none other than Anthony Bridgerton. Your heart fluttered!

•he joined you promenading, riding in your carriage with you and your Mama. You had to fan yourself the whole way, his eyes…his hands…his lips…the scent of Anthony filled the space. And you wanted more, you wanted…you don’t even know what you wanted! The promenade was wonderful, hanging onto Anthony’s arm and every word, laughing with him.

•you didn’t even notice when Anthony had managed to sneak you away from your Mama. But here you were, under a beautiful willow tree, hidden by the flowing branches.

•you couldn’t help yourself, you launched yourself at him. Wrapping your arms round his neck, and kissing him. Oh he was warm! Warm and hot and delicious! He laughed into your mouth and pressed your body back against the tree, his hands exploring your body above your clothes.

• ‘not enough!’ You moaned into his mouth, dragging his hand to between your thighs, and then grinding yourself against him. ‘I need you; I want you.’ Anthony moaned and started to touch you, hands desperately seeking your flesh beneath your dress.

•a cough broke through the dreamy state you both found yourself in. Lady Danbury stood there, grinning, and looking thoroughly impressed. ‘I take it you’ll marry the girl now Bridgerton?’ She quirked her brow with impossible preciseness.

• ‘If you’ll forgive us Lady Danbury. My fiancé and I need to borrow a carriage and get to Gretna Green.’ Lady Danbury laughed and offered her carriage. Anthony straightened your dress, before grabbing your hand and running with you to the waiting carriage.

•the news broke the very next day in Lady Whistledown, that there was a new Vicountess Bridgerton, and that she had won the Vicounts heart a long time ago. But neither you or Anthony knew about the article, given that you were too busy wrapped in each other’s arms as man and wife, brand new gold rings flashing on your fingers.

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

*taps microphone* Is this thing on?

I'd like to give my perspective on something, from someone who started out in the ACOTAR fandom as part of the general audience, and who has a sister that is not apart of fandom but has read the books.

I read the series back in November 2023 in about 2 weeks. I stayed off of social media for a bit until I decided to make a Tumblr account.

After reading the books, I wasn't sure if the series was complete. It didn't feel complete. The first three books focused on Feyre. Nesta had an entire, almost 800 page book dedicated to her. For me, it was natural to assume, "Oh, Elain is next!" because logically, that was the only thing that made sense. Why would two sisters have books, but the third wouldn't? The series would seem incomplete.

Flash forward, and I find out that yes, there will be more to come in the series. However, at this point, I was still unaware that a bonus chapter for Silver Flames existed until a friend casually mentioned it. I asked where to find it and I began reading.

The first part of the bonus chapter confirmed what I already believed from reading the books. Azriel and Elain share mutual feelings. Truly, I didn't need confirmation in the bonus, because there were moments in the books that I already had picked up on. The bonus was just a nice surprise. Something fun.

But imagine my shock when I decided to insert myself into fandom space as a casual reader, and see folks who are 110% convinced that the next book's main character is going to be a secondary side character that was introduced about 40% of the way into the 4th book.

You don't have to imagine my shock, because I'll tell you. The moment I set foot into this fandom, I have been beyond confused. Bamboozled. Befuddled. And honestly, a bit gaslit.

Prior to this bonus chapter, I assumed everyone thought it was obvious and picked up on the pattern. The first sister gets a few books to explore her powers, heal, and fall in love. The second sister gets a book to do the exact same thing. The third sister would get a book...to do the exact. same. thing.

There was a week where I had zero idea that the bonus chapter existed. There are STILL people who have no idea that the bonus chapter exists, and may never end up reading it. These people are not on Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram, or Discord, discussing in depth theories and potential love squares. They are solely relying on canon text.

So, genuinely, what do you think their reactions are going to be, if the next book does not focus on Elain, the third sister, but rather a priestess, who was part of someone else's story, who was only just introduced in the very last book, who does not have any ties to the plot? Yes. They will be lost, too.

My sister, who is part of the general audience, and is not present in fandom spaces, has the same opinion. The idea of Azriel and Elain not ending up together doesn't make sense to her. Prior to showing her the bonus, she had already assumed Azriel and Elain would be the next pairing in the next series. Because she had only read the canon text. The canon text that is available to everyone. The bonus is not.

So, essentially, what I'm trying to say is, if the next book does not feature Elain as the main character, and Azriel as the main love interest, with sprinkles of Lucien here and there because he is still important because of the mating bond, then there will be a gigantic chunk of casual readers, who are not involved in fandom spaces, that will be utterly confused at the direction of the story. Because for people who are not on social media, they are only using the canon books. Their information is only coming from the canon books that are available for all readers. If information in bonus chapters is supposed to be important, then it would be featured in books for everyone to read.

[lampochkaart]

Kokichi is asexual and you can't change my mind (and Kaito is an ace too 'cause i said so)

Here is why i think that way

Disclaimer! This post is not created to judge or shame anyone. I created it to explain why i think about them in that way and maybe try to make this headcanon to be more popular. I might sound kinda salty at times here but in general I don't mean to hurt anybody.

It kinda confuses me why so often Kokichi portrayed a little bit too intrested in making sexual comments and jokes. I probably shouldn't be surprised, because I know that we live in a sex obsessed world. I'm kinda used to it at this point. But I think people kinda exaggerate it.

In actual game he doesn't make sexual comments and jokes THAT often and 90% of the time they are directed at Miu who is the MAIN sourse of them in game. I even think that he would not say so many of those things if Miu wouldn't be starting it first.

He even get's confused for a second when Gonta tells him he couldn't catch Miu for Insect Meet and Greet because his "face got hot".

And in bonus mode Dangan Salmon Team he isn't particularly intrested in that either. In most cases when the player chooses sexual option even though the game states that it was a good option Kokichi will often just change the coversation to a different topic. Yeah, they had fun, but they didn't really talk that much about initial chosen option.

"Let's read a dirty book."

"How about joining my organization instead?" *starts rambling about his organization*

And yes, I REFUSE to call this protag Shuichi. This is NOT my favorite protagonist. He would not fucking say this.

Look how they massacred my boy *cries*

One thing Kokichi also does very often is being sarcastic. I really like this scene. But surprisingly I've seen people taking his excitement as genuine and was like ??? How? Have you gone so crazy after you've seen his first phrase that you blacked out and missed part when he went "nope :)". He literally was like "Is that what you wanted me to say? You wish😊🖕"

I also like how sometimes when the protagonist say something sexual Ouma redirects topic from himself. And he often suggests Tenko as alternative. For a long time I couldn't understand why it was her specifically. And then I realised. It's because Tenko will beat up any man who says something like that to her. He literally indirectly tells player to fuck off.

I can't belive how often those moments are overlooked.

I think that's all my main points regarding Kokichi. Everything else is not very convincing and can be dismissed. But I just want to point out that his color palette basically resembles asexual flag, because I think that's a neat detail.

Now Kaito. I'm gonna be honest. The main reason I headcanon him as ace is because I headcanon all my favorite characters as asexual. But there is a reason I fully accepted him as ace.

The scene in Talent Development Plan where he's discussing "man's passion" with Leon and Teruteru. While they were talking about girls it turned out Kaito this whole time was talking about chasing passion in more philosophical sense. And by exploring "unknown worlds" he probably meant space (they really should've seen that coming).

That's pretty much it. I just saw 1 (one) reason to make it canon for me and immediatly jumped on it.

I think that's it for both of them. They're not the only characters i headcanon to be on the ace spectrum (and i also have some on the aro spectrum too!) but they're the ones I think about the most, so I thought I'd explain it.

[sapphire-writes]

an ego thing ~ modern!Aemond x Reader

previous part 1 // next part 3 // series masterlist

summary: part 2 of An Ego Thing; one-bed trope, but it's a study room 😏 I hope this brightens your Friday night loves! warnings: language, 18+ NSFW (oral & spicy times) word count: 2k note: I am working on requests but this got so much love and once I thought of the scenario I had to write it immediately! read more of my work here! 💚

“You sure you don’t want to bounce?” Baela asks, shoving her laptop into her bag. 

You had been working with Baela on a project for another class for the past couple of hours. Confined to a study room off the main open space of your university’s library, where you could talk and explore different topics without being disruptive. 

You sigh, looking at the time on your phone.

“ I shouldn’t,” you tell her reluctantly, “I have to get this paper for history in before 11:59.”

“Slacker,” Baela teases, heading for the door.

“Night! Good luck,” she calls, in a hushed whisper as she enters the main room of the library shutting the door behind her. 

You groan, wanting nothing more than to crawl into your bed. You rub your eyes, opening your document for history. Fucking Aemond Targaryen. Can’t have a simple discussion with you and now you have another pointless assignment to finish.

You type away, eager to finish when the door to the study room opens. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask, frowning at the tall man before you.

Aemond smirks.

“I reserved this room.”

“No, I had it reserved,” you argue. 

Aemond raises a brow at your tone. 

“Yeah, your time is up. Two-hour booking window, remember?”

He holds his phone toward you, noting the calendar used to reserve the study spaces. Fucker. 

“Fine.”

You pack your stuff, eager to leave the space now that Aemond appeared. You scout throughout the library but no other rooms are available. You could just sit at a table, but you much prefer the seclusion a study room brings you. 

“There are no other rooms.”

Aemond stares at you, his expression blank. 

“How is that my problem?”

The sound of someone clearing their throat hits you and you turn your head. The librarian motions for you to shut the door. She presses a finger to her lips signaling you are being disruptive. 

You check your phone again, the time slowly creeping closer to midnight. 

“Aemond c’mon,” you say, exasperated. 

He growls, looking away, flexing his fingers before continuing to type. You take that as an okay, shutting the door behind you and plopping yourself back into the seat across from him, taking out your computer.

You sit in silence, the sound of you both typing furiously in the space. Aemond closes his laptop as you begin to cite your references. 

You glance up at him, finding him watching you. You scowl, already annoyed though he has yet to speak. 

“Finished?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Nearly.”

“Library closes soon.”

You look up at him again, nearly rolling your eyes. 

“Then you should stop distracting me.”

He smirks then, perfect lips curling in malcontent.

“I’m distracting you?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

You can feel his stare burning into your face as you continue to type before he begins to gather his things. You look up, watching as he packs his stuff. You can’t help but think of what Luke Velaryon said after class. He catches your eye once more, and you look away quickly resuming your typing, cheeks flushing. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“My references,” you answer, not daring to look up. 

“Surprised you found any,” he quips. 

You meet his eyes once more.

“My points are extremely valid,” you argue.

Aemond tilts his head to the side. You feel an argument brewing. 

“You know what? I don’t have time for this,” you tell him, closing your laptop. 

You’re nearly finished, you just wanted to look over it once more before submitting it to your professor, but you could do that somewhere else. You shove a notebook into your bag, standing. Aemond follows suit. 

“Whatever,” Aemond says, moving toward the door, backpack slung over his shoulder.

His hand is on the handle of the door, just opening it as you speak. Truly, you can’t seem to help yourself. You antagonize each other. 

“Jerk,” you mutter.

Aemond freezes, the door open half an inch, just allowing you a view of the main room where few students remain. You watch a muscle in Aemond’s jaw twitch before he closes the door, dropping his bag to the ground. His eyes meet yours, a snarl on his face as he grabs your backpack from your hands, tossing it to the floor. 

“Hey!” you tell him, eyes wide before he connects his lips to yours. 

You’re too shocked at first, freezing as his hands find your waist, thumbs caressing the skin of your hips. Your eyelashes flutter as you give into the kiss, bringing your fingers to tangle in his silky hair. It's just as soft as it looks-not like you’ve imagined how it feels between your fingers or anything. You suppress a whimper as Aemond deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side and exploring your mouth with his tongue. You allow it, shivering with the feeling of his hands on you, at the way he squeezes your hips, pushing you back against the table. 

The table bites into the back of your thighs, and you gasp into Aemond’s mouth before he pulls away slightly. His eyes open, half-lidded as you meet his gaze. 

“You’re infuriating,” he says, in a hoarse whisper. 

It’s becoming difficult to breathe like the room lacks air. 

“And you’re a pain in the ass,” you snarl in response, trying to keep your voice low. 

Aemond kisses you again, harder this time. He brings a hand to hold your jaw and you can’t help a pathetic whine from escaping your lips. He is a good kisser, a great kisser actually. The pouty shape of his mouth fits against your lips perfectly. 

You keep kissing for a moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. 

Shit, your paper. 

You pull away, hands on his chest.

“Maybe we should take Velaryon’s advice then,” Aemond says suddenly before you can catch your bearings. 

You blink in surprise, cheeks flushing. Your eyes drop to his lips as he speaks, nearly bruised from kissing. He takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, as though savoring the taste of yours. 

“You’re serious?” you ask, not believing the words. 

This has to be a trick of some kind. Aemond watches you carefully, with violet and blue eyes, before giving you a curt nod. Your lips part and Aemond’s eyes are drawn to the action. 

“Okay,” you agree, and Aemond pulls you from the table, turning you around. 

Your heart beats wildly.

“Here?” you hiss, back pressed against his chest.

You feel his lips press against your neck, nearly melting all the resistance from your muscles. He trails kisses down your neck, onto your shoulder nipping at your collarbone. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond answers.

You can feel his hands on your leggings, pulling them down toward the floor. Your face is burning, but you’re too excited to feel self-conscious. The anticipation of what is to come, from who you’re doing it with, and from potentially being caught are making your head spin. 

Aemond loops his long fingers through your underwear, pulling them down as well, leaving your bottom half bare. 

“You’ll just have to be quiet,” he tells you, “wouldn’t want the librarian to come snooping.”

You scoff, feeling his hand on your back, bending you over the table. 

“I highly doubt they’ll be anything to be noisy about,” you challenge, preparing to feel him pressing himself into you. 

You’re wet from anticipation, and a quickie with Aemond Targaryen is bound to ease the unfiltered tension between you two. You wait for him, wait to hear the unbuckle of his belt but it doesn’t come. 

You turn your head, looking behind you, and spot Aemond kneeling behind you.

“What are-” you are cut off by the feel of Aemond licking a stripe up your soaking slit. 

You slam a hand over your mouth as his tongue continues its exploration. You can feel his sharp nose pressing into you, feel his tongue curling into your clenching hole. He moans against you, the vibrations causing a whimper to break through your hand. 

Aemond chuckles against you, pulling away slightly.

“You’re all talk,” he whispers, flicking his tongue against your sensitive clit. 

Your eyes roll back in your head at the attention he gives it, thighs trembling. For someone who knows how to talk, you’re now at a loss for words as Aemond continues slurping on your sensitive pussy. You feel your orgasm creeping up on you, a coil winding tighter within your stomach.

“Fuck I’m going to-” you whisper. 

“Cum?” Aemond asks, and you can feel his smirk against your pussy, before he continues to lavish your clit with licks.

“Yes,” you answer, before reaching your peak, finishing on Aemond’s tongue. 

Your cheek rests against the table as you catch your breath as Aemond rises to his feet. 

“Shit,” you whisper, mind hazy. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond answers. 

You hear something tear and look behind you, as Aemond holds a condom in his hands. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You brought a condom to the library?” you ask.

“I always keep some on me,” he answers, unbuckling his belt.

You roll your eyes, as you watch him take out his cock. Your eyebrows raise at the sight, long and pale, the tip flushed red and already weeping with precum. You watch as he rolls the condom on, unable to stop your mouth from watering. 

“Any other questions?” Aemond asks, bringing your attention back to his face.

You hate the smug look he wears. 

“Just fuck me, Targaryen,” you growl. 

“Will do,” Aemond says, guiding his cock into your center.

You feel his hand on your waist, as his cock splits into you, stretching you out. You bite into your hand trying to stop your moans. Your heart beats erratically, fearful of any noise that comes from the study room. 

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Shhh,” Aemond says, pulling back and thrusting into you, “you’ve got to be quiet.”

A wave of pleasure washes over you as Aemond continues to roll his hips into yours. Lewd, wet noises fill the space as Aemond fucks you. You can’t believe this is happening, you can’t believe Aemond Targaryen has you bent over a table fucking you. Fucking you as you’ve never been fucked before. 

Small noises escape your mouth, and suddenly your hand is no longer good enough. Aemond brings his hand to your mouth instead, muffling the noises of pleasure that escape. 

“I thought you were a good girl?” he purrs in your ear, continuing his thrusts.

I am, you think as your thighs clench, the table below you squeaking with the movements.

“No,” Aemond answers in a growl as if reading your mind, “good girls listen. Good girls don’t get bent over and fucked in the library. I think you’re a bad, bad girl.”

Warmth spreads through you at his dirty talk.

“Is that true?” he asks, “are you a bad girl, (Y/N)?”

You whimper against his palm, as he continues to pound into you.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles. 

You wish you had enough energy to snap back at him, but his cock has you basically drooling into his hand, so any chance of being witty needs to be saved for a different time. Aemond angles his hips, and suddenly the head of his cock is pressing against the spongy part inside of you that makes you see stars. Your legs tremble and you arch yourself flatter onto the table, pushing your ass into him.

“Fuck, that's good,” he breathes, releasing your mouth, using both hands to hold onto your hips as he jackhammers into you. 

You bite into your wrist, hard enough to draw blood as your second orgasm crashes over you. Tears slide down your cheeks as Aemond chases his release, stifling his groan of pleasure not a moment later. 

You stay conjoined, feeling his cock soften inside of you before he unsheaths himself, discarding the condom into a trashcan. You stay flat, trying to regulate your breathing. 

“Shit!” you hiss suddenly, opening your computer. 

“What?” he softly groans. 

You open your pdf before attaching the file to an email, pressing send to your professor just as the clock hits 11:59. You smile triumphantly, causing Aemond to chuckle.

“Smart ass.”

taglist: @ephemeralninon, @aemonds-wifey, @haydee5010, @schniiipsel, @sweetsweetpsyche, @letmeloveyouuuu

HOTD taglist: @zillahvathek @tempt-ress

[zahri-melitor]

What can you infer about the editorial meddling Young Justice went through?

Oh god. It’s like the old quote about pornography: you know it when you see it. Spend enough time reading comics and you can just tell.

Notable problems with the Young Justice 2019 run that smack of interference:

You can really tell there was external pressure to include Steph in the run and that she was not originally intended to join the team or appear any further than occasional cameos such as the flashbacks at the Hall of Justice as a link to Tim’s final scene in Tynion’s Tec run. Structurally her story makes no sense whatsoever for how to put a plot together. Steph’s not an original Young Justice character, the run already was supporting two new female characters plus a reboot of Amethyst introducing Amy to a new generation, even before we look at the crossovers from other titles in the imprint. The fact they ended up throwing in a single issue entirely about 'what Steph has been up to and her fight against Cluemaster' in the last section of the run makes it even worse, as that was valuable page time wasted pandering that could and should have been used to give Jinny Hex or Keli Quintela more development.

The entire ‘Drake’ situation, which for a costume change had very little build up, was under-designed, and then disappeared with Tim back in the Robin costume between two panels. It was a test balloon from someone that was comprehensively shot down by some mix of the fandom and editorial, and I remain convinced that DC is gunshy about a new costume and identity for Tim all the way up to the present day because of how badly it was handled.

It was being used as the anchor for Wonder Comics, leading to the required mega crossover (that also spilled over into Bendis’ Action Comics to give it some more space), putting even more pressure on the title to be telling a big crossover story when it was still trying to re-establish “your favourites are back” and suggesting potentially expanding the Young Justice lineup out to around thirteen characters, a massively oversized team that the title was not set up to handle.

Lost in the Multiverse was where the story started to get bogged down by being pulled in too many directions by expectations.

It’s also super telling that the last third of the book got turned over to essentially doing one-shot character pieces about the Core Four, the last defence of a run that can see cancellation coming and doesn’t feel confident launching a new story arc they don’t expect to get to finish. Some of this stuff was clearly background character work they would have preferred to have dripped out over a longer run.

Also I know I’m repeating myself, but having the Tim piece focus on Steph mostly, in the frame of Tim and Steph’s relationship? That’s not where I’d be spending my time when looking at Tim Drake in the focus of Young Justice. How he’s coping with his returned memories of having two or three different lives now? Thinking about what ‘Tell Conner you’re sorry’ means? Discussion about his feelings in terms of moving on from being Robin or not? Nah let’s talk about Steph's problems with her dad instead. That’s not a natural fit compared to what everyone else got and does not follow from any of the preceding story.

Still ropeable that the whole set of storylines about regained memories and alternate timelines doesn’t get to intersect with Lois Lane (which spoilers but also is committed to storytelling about ‘people have memories of other places bleeding through’ prior to the full Infinite Frontier retcon) or explore how those memories change things for Tim, Bart or Cassie (Kon at least does get a story about reconnecting in Action).

And that’s just off the top of my head, ignoring any of the more subtle signs.

I love Young Justice 2019. It is a run that adores Bart, Kon, Cassie and Tim (and particularly Bart. I cannot explain to you how much this story adores Bart if you’ve never read it) and the opening 6 issues make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I read them in terms of how cleverly it works to explain how we get everything back. There are clever subtle moments in the text that give a lot more depth to the story that are implied rather than spelled out: how Cassie suddenly remembers Bart when Bart comes near her, suggesting that her returned memories are a Speed Force side effect from being a lightning rod to Bart; Cassie and Tim sense Kon using TTK and recognise it as familiar, something the new characters cannot; the fakeout in the art where when Tim’s memories are restored, he sees Cissie in his memories, but unless you know the exact YJ98 page being referenced you’d think it was Steph; etc.

But gosh it would have been so much better if it had not been required to devote so much page time to crossovers and to pandering to fans, among other elements.

[rowdyluv]

Brother’s Teammate

Summary: fem!reader is red wings prospect Trey Augustine’s older sister, her and alex meet pre-draft and pre-usa men’s hockey worlds team roster announcement and they hit it off. reader and alex start having secret meet ups. trey is none the wiser as he is away at school pretty much up until worlds. trey has all the guys from worlds over leading to a predicament…

Warnings: mdni, 18+, mature themes, smutty smut, degradation, dirty mouth, unprotected sex, oral fem recieving, fingering fem receiving, squirting, use of safe word, spit, confrontation

Word Count: 5,335 (holy smokes what did Covid do to me to make me yap this much)

Notes: I don’t know much about alex except that he’s played for the flyers, Carolina, panthers, and now the red wings. was also with the usa men’s team this last go around for worlds but was an early send home because of an injury to his hand i used my knowledge of Trey Augustine, also a goalie plays for Michigan state took over for Alex at worlds initially and is a redwings prospect. Reader is intended to be Trey’s older sister.

"Hey, sis, you cool if a bunch of the guys crash here for the long weekend?" Trey called out from the kitchen, tossing a bag of chips into the cabinet. His hair was stuck to his forehead from the sweat where he had been at the gym, and the smell of his cologne mixed with perspiration wafted through the air.

"Yeah, sure," Y/n responded, not looking up from her book. "It's not like we don't have the space." She heard the fridge door open and shut, and the clinking of bottles. The house was going to be full of energy, she thought, and a bit of a mess. But she didn't mind. Trey had always been the life of the party, and she enjoyed the occasional distraction from her quiet life as a university student. See Trey got the athletic genes while she got the intellectual genes leading her in to her years of college. Both blessed with looks that stopped and turned heads. Smiling to herself as she returned to her book, if she allowed him to have his teammates over it meant she'd get to see Alex again.

Alex, the stoic goalkeeper with the piercing green eyes and a body sculpted by hours on the ice, had been Y/n's secret hook up for months. Unbeknownst to either of them at the time of being her little brother’s teammate, he had been more than happy to help her explore her wild side when they had first hooked up at a party. The tension between them had been palpable from the moment they had met, and it had only grown stronger with each stolen glance and accidental touch. Their relationship was purely physical, emotions outside the bedroom were strictly friendly. At times confusing with the way he treats hers, but upon discussion the line drawn is always friends.

“Hey Trey! When are the guys getting here?” Y/n yelled out wondering if she had enough time to clean her room before he shows.

“They should be here any minute. Don’t worry, we’re not gonna trash the place. Well, not too much anyway,” Trey called back with a chuckle as he climbed back up the stairs from having gone down to the basement.

The doorbell rang, and a cacophony of laughter and greetings filled the house as the teammates began to arrive. Y/n could feel her heartbeat quicken at the thought of Alex’s impending presence. She quickly got up and checked herself in the mirror next on the wall closest to her, smoothing out her hair and adjusting her shirt to ensure the perfect amount of cleavage was visible. She knew Alex would be watching, and she was eager to keep him on edge.

The first few guys trickled in, each one more muscular and charming than the last, but it was Alex’s deep voice that sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to see him, duffle bag slung over his broad shoulder, his eyes immediately finding hers and holding them with a smoldering gaze. He broke the connection first, flashing a wink as he greeted her with a casual nod before moving into the house to find Trey. Y/n’s cheeks flushed, and she took a moment to compose herself, feeling the heat between her legs begin to build just by his presence.

As the evening progressed, the house grew louder with the sound of laughter, the clinking of beer bottles, and the occasional shout from the TV where a sports game played in the background. Y/n mingled with the guys, flirting and teasing as they all settled into the comfortable rhythm of the party. She took delight in the way they competed for her attention, their hands lingering a little too long on her waist or her shoulder when they talked. But she knew it was all in good fun, and she enjoyed the playful banter just as much as they did.

Alex, however, watched her with a growing intensity that was unmistakable. His jaw clenched every time one of his teammates got too close, and she could see the possessive fire in his eyes. It was a thrilling dance, one that she had perfected over the months they had been seeing each other. She knew just how to push his buttons without crossing the line, and she reveled in the power it gave her.

As the night grew darker, the party moved outside to the backyard where a fire pit had been set up. The warmth of the flames contrasted with the cool spring air, and the smell of burning wood filled the night. The group sat around the fire, sharing stories and jokes, the flickering light playing over their faces. Y/n leaned back in her chair, sipping her drink, feeling the heat from the fire and the eyes of the men around her. She allowed them their fun, knowing it was all part of the game.

It was when Alex scooted his chair closer to hers, the metal legs scraping against the concrete, that she felt a different kind of heat. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "I bet you think you're real cute, letting them put their hands all over you," he whispered, his voice low and gruff. "We'll see how cute you look later when it's just my hands all over you." The words sent a thrill through her body, and she couldn't hide the fact that she bit her bottom lip, and a slight smile was playing on her lips.

The night went on, the conversation flowed, and the drinks kept coming. As the fire dwindled lower, the shadows grew longer, and the air grew thick with a mix of testosterone and desire. Y/n found herself nestled in Alex's lap, his arms strong and firm around her waist. She felt the heat from his body and the pulse of his erection pressing against her. The other guys were too busy with their own conversations to notice the tension building between the two of them.

Alex leaned in closer, his mouth grazing her ear as he spoke. "You've been a naughty little tease all night," he murmured, his voice a seductive growl that sent waves of anticipation through her body. "But now, it's time for you to pay the price." His hands began to roam, starting at her waist and slowly inching upward, tracing the curves of her body with a confidence that made her tremble.

“Alex.” She warned. “The guys are out here. My brother is out here.” She groaned.

His hands and their relentless pursuit of her body didn’t stop.

“I know, baby, that’s what makes it so much more exciting,” Alex replied, his voice a low rumble of excitement that vibrated through her.

“No. No. No.” She insisted. “I’m calling pineapple.”

Alex quickly clamped his hands in front of her with the use of their safe word.

“I’ll see you upstairs if you’re not mad at me.” She whispers in his ear, making sure to graze his earlobe with her teeth, eliciting a groan from him.

Alex’s eyes darkened with lust and the ever growing need to claim her. He knew he had pushed it too far, but her sweet little protests were like kerosene to his fire. He slightly nodded, understanding that their game was still on, but now with the further thrill of sneaking away to keep it hidden from the others.

The night went on and the boys started to wind down. Trey’s laughter echoed through the house, muffled by the walls of her room as she sat on the edge of her bed, heart racing, anticipating Alex’s arrival.

Would he even come to her room after denying him?

She could vaguely hear the muted sounds of the TV from the living room, the occasional clink of bottles being tossed into the recycling bin. Her anticipation grew with each passing minute, her body thrumming with excitement for the possibility of what was to come.

Finally, the soft shuffle of footsteps coming up the stairs followed by the door knob clicking rung across her ear drums. Followed by the vision of Alex stepping into the room, his eyes smoldering with the same desire she had coursing through her body. He closed the door behind him, the latch clicking into place, and he turned the lock sealing them into their own little world of passion and secrecy.

“You’ve been driving me fucking wild all night,” he said, his voice low and rough. He stalked towards her, his movements predatory yet filled with a restrained need that made her core clench and involuntarily squeeze her legs together.

Y/n couldn’t resist the urge to tease him a little more. “Oh, have I? Why’s that?” she replied, her voice dripping with innocence as she feigned surprise. She took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his.

Alex’s gaze raked over her, and she felt his eyes run over her like a physical caress. He took the drink from her hand and set it aside, his fingers brushing against hers in a way that was both possessive and gentle. “You know you have, don’t act coy little fox,” he murmured, closing the distance between them. His hands found her hips, pulling her up from where she sat on the edge of the bed and tossing her back into the middle of the mattress.

“Like i told you, let’s see how cute you are when i get my hands on you.” Alex’s voice dropped deeper, possessing, territorial. Different than any other time she’s ever teasingly flirted with others like she had this evening. “We’ll see just how willing they flirt with you tomorrow when you’re covered in marks by me.”

Her heart raced at his words, a mix of excitement and a thrill of danger dancing in her veins. She knew Alex was all talk, but the thought of him leaving his mark on her was exhilarating. She watched as he began to strip out of his shirt, revealing the taut muscles that rippled across his chest and abdomen. The lowlight from the moon outside cast a glow across his skin, painting him in shadows and highlights that made him look like a Greek god.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, feeling her body respond involuntarily. She bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushing as she reached up to mess with her own shirt. Alex's eyes never left hers as she revealed she was braless under her tank top, her nipples already pebbled and erect from the cool air and the heat of his gaze. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss that left her breathless. His tongue demanded entry, and she eagerly granted it, her own tongue dancing with his in a passionate tango.

As they kissed, Alex's hands began to explore, tracing the curves of her body with a hunger that was palpable. He kissed her jaw, his stubble scraping against her smooth skin, launching a delicious shiver down her spine. He moved lower, his teeth grazing her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When he reached the spot just below her ear, his lips hovered for a moment before he claimed it with a gentle suction, his tongue swirling around the delicate skin. Y/n moaned softly, arching her neck to give him better access.

But then she pulled back, panting slightly. "Shit Alex, I thought you were kidding!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise. Alex smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He knew she had been pushing him all night, and now it was time to see if she was ready to handle the consequences.

"Kidding?" He questioned, a glint in his eye. "You know I never joke about getting my hands on you." He leaned in his lips reconnecting with hers in a sloppy wet kiss, as his hands found the hem of her shorts. In swift motions, he unbuttoned them and pulled them down her legs along with her underwear.

With a gentle push, Alex laid her back on the bed, his eyes devouring the sight of her. He kissed her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin. He trailed kisses down her collarbone, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took. His thumbs brushed against her erect nipples, eliciting a gasp from her lips. He took one into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it as he gently bit down. The sensation was so intense, she couldn’t help but dig her nails into his back.

He moved lower, kissing the soft curve of her stomach, the muscles quivering beneath his touch. He kissed down to her hips, lightly sucking and nipping himself another mark onto her body, before his hands spread her legs apart, exposing her to the cool air and his hungry gaze. He took a moment to appreciate the view reserved just for him, the wetness glistening in the moonlight seeping in through the window.

Then, without a word, he dipped his head between her thighs, his tongue slipping out to taste her in languid laps at her dripping pussy folds at first.

"Mmm, you're so sweet," Alex murmured, his breath hot against her skin. He parted her with his thumbs, his tongue delving into her, exploring every inch of her. Y/n's hips bucked upward, her body reacting instinctively to the pleasure he was giving her. Slowly his fingers slid into her, filling her up as he continued to lick and suck at her clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and she had to bite down on her pillow to muffle the moans that wanted to escape.

"You like that, don't you?" Alex said, his voice thick with desire. "You like it when I eat you out like you're my personal dessert." His words were crude, but they only served to turn her on more. The vibrations of his voice against her sensitive flesh sent her spiraling close to the edge.

She nodded, unable to form coherent words as his tongue circled her clit in a relentless rhythm.

He spat on her pussy, took her fingers and spread it down to her entrance that was begging to be filled again. "Look at you," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Just so, so desperate for it." His fingers slid in and out of her, curling against just the right spot. "Tell me, baby girl, tell me how badly you want it."

Y/n could barely get the words out, her breaths coming in gasps and whimpers. "Alex, please," she begged, her hips moving in time with his relentless strokes. "I want it, I want you."

Alex chuckled darkly, the sound sending another shiver through her body. "Is that all you want?" He teased, his tongue flicking against her clit, his fingers pressing upwards against her desired spot. "You're going to have to be more specific, baby."

"I want you to fuck me," she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fuck me like I've been teasing you all night. Like I’m your girl and I shouldn’t do that.”

Alex’s eyes darkened, his grip on her thighs almost bruising tight. He didn't need any more encouragement. He climbed up her body, his muscles flexing as he positioned himself between her legs. He reached down, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to free his erection. Y/n watched him, her eyes hooded with lust, as he took his cock in his hand and guided it to her entrance. He hovered there for a moment, the tip of him just brushing against her wetness, making her squirm with need.

"Tell me again," he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper. "Tell me how bad you want it."

"I want it," she moaned as he teased with his tip, her eyes never leaving his. "I want you to fuck me like I've been a bad girl all night."

Alex smirked, the challenge in her voice only making him harder. He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in, watching her eyes widen with pleasure as he filled her completely. He didn't hold back, his hips slamming into her as he claimed her mouth in another bruising kiss. She had the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress, his muscles straining with every thrust.

"Fuck. That's it," he growled, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "Take it all, baby. Take your punishment." He began to talk dirty, his words a mix of praise and degradation that only served to turn her on more. "You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you? Letting all these guys touch you, but you know who you really want." He punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his cock hitting her deep inside.

“You can only be my whore. Do you understand?” Alex grunted thrusting roughly, yet pleasurably. When he didn’t receive an answer he grasped her throat. “What’s wrong baby? Getting fucked too good, you can’t talk?” She managed to moan out his namely breathily earning a cocky smirk from him.

Y/n was losing her self control, the pleasure was building with every stroke. Alex's filthy words only served to heighten her arousal, making her wetter and more desperate for his touch. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, her nails digging into his back as she met each thrust with her own. He was relentless, his hips moving like a piston, driving into her with a force that was almost painful, but she craved it.

"You're mine," he grunted, his teeth grazing her ear. "Every time you let them touch you, every time you flirt and tease, it just makes me want to fuck you harder." His words were like a branding, searing themselves into her mind as his cock claimed her body. She had a strong urge to be bratty but was now the time?

Yes.

“I’m no one’s, we walk out of here friends” y/n let out a yelp as Alex thrusted on hard time and pressed hard on her stomach.

“And I bet you don’t feel your other fucking friends up this far in you. Or do you? Little slut.” Alex huffed before continuing his delicious pounding of her cunt.

“And if you do, I bet it’s me you think about when their dick is in you. No one can fuck you like I can.” He growls.

Her eyes rolled back in pleasure at his words, feeling his thick cock fill her up and stretch her tight cunt. She didn’t care anymore. Her body was his to do with as he pleased. “Oh God, no, no, no one else!” She moaned.

Alex’s strokes slower and deeper, his hands roaming her body, his filthy words painting a vivid picture of her submission. “You’re going to scream my name, aren’t you, baby? You’re going to come all over my cock like the dirty little slut that you are, and everyone in this house, even your baby brother, will know it’s me who makes you feel this good.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed with both arousal and embarrassment at the thought of Trey hearing her cries of pleasure. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the scream that was building in her chest. Alex’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he slammed into her, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the quiet room.

"That's right," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "You're going to scream for me, aren't you?" His voice was a mix of a challenge and dark amusement, as if he knew just how much she was enjoying their little game of cat and mouse.

Y/n's eyes widened with a mix of pleasure and fear. "N-no," she whimpered, trying to keep her voice low. But with each powerful thrust, it was getting harder to stay quiet. Her nails dug into the bed sheets, her body arching off the mattress as she was getting closer and closer to the edge.

Alex chuckled darkly, the sound sending another jolt of pleasure through her. He knew exactly what she was trying to do, and he had every intention of breaking her. He dipped one hand between their bodies, his thumb finding her clit and starting to strum it in quick, firm circles. The sensation was overwhelming, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body began to spasm, her pussy clenching around his cock as the beginnings of a powerful orgasm started to stir.

“A- Al- Alex. Stop.” She whispered-cried. “I think I seriously have to pee.” It was impossible for her to hold back a moan as he continued drilling her.

“Oh fuck, baby no, I swear you’re not. Relax and just enjoy it. Trust me.” Alex had the biggest smile on his face. He leans down kissing y/n. Whispering again to trust him.

He rolls her over onto her stomach, pressing a gentle kiss to the small of her back before pulling her hips back and aligning himself with her slick entrance. He pushes into her from behind, arching off the bed as she tries to adjust to the new angle. The sensation is intense, his cock hitting her in a way that makes her toes curl. He wraps one arm around her waist, his hand finding her clit again, continuing the delicious torture as he begins to move.

Her moans grow louder, echoing in the room as he picks up his pace. She has the pressure building inside of her, a warmth that starts in her core and spreads outward, making her muscles tighten. Alex's fingers move faster, his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure as his cock stretches her pussy. And then, with a suddenness that takes her by surprise – the first spurt of liquid heat gushing out of her, soaking the bed beneath her. She screams his name, the sound raw and unfiltered, as she experiences something she never has before.

Alex's grip on her tightens to keep her up, as her pussy contracts around him rapidly, the warmth of her release spilling onto his hand. He groans, his own climax building as he continues to pump into her. The sensation of her squirting around him is too much, and he can't hold back anymore. He thrusts deep, his cock pulsing as he releases his own hot load inside her, filling her up.

Y/n's body goes limp, her muscles quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. She collapses onto the bed, her cheek pressing into the damp pillow, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Alex pulls out, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watches her body react to the aftershocks of pleasure. He leans over, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder, his hand tracing the curve of her waist.

"See, baby?" he whispers into her ear, his voice thick with pride. "You didn't have to pee, you just needed to let go." He chuckles, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

Y/n nods, too exhausted to speak. She had never experienced anything like that before, and she was still trying to process the sensation. Alex rolls her over onto her back, his body following hers, his cock still half-hard against her thigh. He kisses her gently, his tongue tasting the sweetness of her breath.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he murmurs, his eyes shining with a mix of lust and affection. He traces her cheek with his thumb, his touch tender and gentle in stark contrast to the raw passion that had just consumed them.

Y/n can't help but smile, her eyes fluttering closed as she feels the last waves of pleasure recede. "Thank you," she whispers, her body wore out now. She reaches up, her hand shaking slightly as she cups his cheek.

Alex leans into her touch, his own hand coming to rest over hers. "Don't thank me," he says, his voice a gruff rumble. "You're the one who's going to be walking funny tomorrow." He kisses her again, this time softer, more tender. "Now, let's get you cleaned up."

He stands, pulling her up with him, his arms strong and sure around her waist. She can feel his cock, still semi-hard, pressing against her thigh as he leads her to the en suite bathroom. The room is bathed in soft light from the vanity, and the scent of clean linen fills the air. Alex turns on the faucet, letting the water warm up before guiding her into the tub. She sighs as she sinks into the water, the warmth soothing her sore muscles.

Alex kneels beside the tub, his eyes never leaving hers as he gently washes her. His hands glide over her body, his touch tender and caring, a stark contrast to the passionate intensity of their lovemaking. He cleans her gently, washing away the sweat and evidence of their desire. She feels a strange mix of emotions – vulnerable yet cherished.

As the warm water washes over them, Y/n can't help but think about what Alex said. The "friends" comment hangs in the air, a question mark she's not sure she wants to address. But for now, she lets it go, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her, the comfort of his presence.

The next day arrives with the promise of a new set of challenges. Y/n wakes up to the sound of the house coming to life, the muffled laughter and footsteps of the hockey players echoing through the walls. She stretches lazily, feeling the ache between her legs, a delightful reminder of the night before. Alex is already up, probably playing the part of the perfect guest downstairs. She smiles to herself, feeling a little smug knowing what they've shared in secret.

As she makes her way to the bathroom, she can't help but wonder if the tension between her and Alex is palpable to anyone else. She brushes her teeth, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach. When she's done, she takes a deep breath and heads downstairs, ready to face the day with the same nonchalance she had the night before.

But as she enters the living room, she's met with a scene she wasn't expecting. Trey and Alex are standing in the center of the room, their voices raised in a heated argument. She freezes in the doorway, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What the fuck, man?" Trey yells, his face red with anger. "You know she's off limits!"

Y/n's heart drops as she takes in the scene before her. The living room, which had been filled with laughter and camaraderie just hours ago, was now a battleground of accusations and tension. Alex stands tall, his expression a mix of surprise and defensiveness as he faces her brother.

"Trey, it's not what you think," she tries to interject, her voice trembling. But the words get caught in her throat as she sees the look of betrayal in her brother's eyes.

"I can't believe you fucked my sister!" Trey's voice booms through the room, his fists clenched at his sides. The other teammates look on, their expressions a mix of shock and curiosity. Alex's eyes dart to her, a silent plea for help, but she's frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

"Trey, it's not what you think," she tries again and manages to choke out this time, her voice barely above a whisper. But the damage is done. The room is thick with tension, and she can feel the weight of her brother's anger pressing down on her. She takes a tentative step forward, her heart racing, eyes already spilling tears.

Alex's eyes widen with shock and then anger as he takes in her distress. He takes a step towards Trey, his own fists clenching at his sides. "Trey, man, come on. Stop. You're making her cry over this. It's not worth it," he says, his voice a low growl. The room falls silent, all eyes on the quarreling two as the tension escalates.

Trey turns to her, his expression a mix of hurt and rage. "Is it true, Y/n?" he asks, his voice strained. "Did you sleep with him?" The question hangs in the air like a guillotine, waiting to drop.

“Yes. Yes I did. We met a month before the roster was announced. I didn’t even know he was a professional player until we hung out 3 times” The words were rushed and ran together. An explanation she didn’t have to give.

The room was a silent vacuum of shock and anger. Alex looked torn between comforting her and defending himself. The other teammates looked away uncomfortably, not wanting to be part of the personal family drama.

"Trey, it's not like that," she tried again, her voice shaking. "We're just... friends."

But her brother wasn't buying it. "Friends don't fuck, Y/n," he spat, his eyes burning with accusation. "What kind of sick game are you playing?"

Alex had, had enough.

He stepped in, pulling Y/n into his arms protectively. "Trey, it's not a game," he said firmly, his voice low and even.

Y/n felt Alex's warmth envelop her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as if he could shield her from the storm of her brother's fury. His touch was reassuring, grounding her in a moment when she felt like everything was falling apart.

"Trey, I know you're upset," Alex began, his voice firm but measured. "But this isn't just some random hookup. Y/n and I have been seeing each other for a while now. It's more than just 'fuck buddies'. We have feelings for each other." He looked down at her, his eyes filled with sincerity and affection that she hadn't seen before. “We’ve always said we’re just friends every time one of us gets confused by how the other is acting and we talk about what’s going on. But there’s no talking about it anymore. I know how I feel and I can tell that she does too.” Alex is firm on his words no room for discussion. Y/n cuddling her head into his chest in a form of agreement.

Trey's eyes narrowed, his fists unclenching slightly. "Feelings?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "Since when?"

Alex took a deep breath, his jaw set in determination. "I don’t know about your sister. For me? But I knew she was special from right after getting to hang out with her and getting to know her for her. But my feelings started to develop before I knew you. It was also before the roster was announced," he said, his voice unwavering. "I kept it quiet because I didn't want to cause any drama. I knew she would freak even more at the thought of having feelings attached because of you. But it's all way more than just casual for me. I care about her. Think way too much about her. I wanted to rip every single one of those fuckers heads off last night because of her little games." Alex rambled and squeezed her at the end of his ramblings. She giggled a little.

Trey's anger seemed to deflate a bit, his eyes searching hers for the truth. "Is that right, Y/n?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Y/n nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's true, T," she whispered. "Sometimes things just happen and you can’t help it. I can’t say I knew my feelings were my true feelings before you two knew each other but knowing how I feel now there’s no doubt." She leaned into Alex's embrace, listening to his heartbeat.

Her brother's expression softened, the anger in his eyes turning to unreadable emotion. “Alex. If you hurt my sister. I won’t kill you, I’ll just take away the starting line up from you and watch you slowly burn down. Got it?” Trey smiled at Alex didn’t say anything to him l, just let him have his moment.

[avelera]

So I've been watching Three Body Problem with my partner and we just got to Episode 5. It has (spoilers) a pretty gruesome scene in it from the book, very bloody. I literally didn't watch it, just listened and watched my partner's (shocked) face throughout it.

This got me thinking. Not so much about Three Body Problem, because I haven't finished it yet nor read the books so I haven't really formed any sort of opinion on the show or the overall story, but more on Benioff and Weiss.

While looking away from That Scene I was curious if it was even in the book, so I was looking that up instead of watching. It was, but sure enough, Benioff and Weiss had embellished it.

I'll discuss it in more detail beneath the cut to avoid spoilers but suffice to say this is my take away:

For Benioff and Weiss, it's always been about cruelty. The chance to show cruelty above and beyond the source material, using the source material only as a spring board to delve into horrific imagery, is literally what attracts them to the stories they choose to depict.

And I felt like I'm taking crazy pills when I pointed this out all through the Game of Thrones era, not so much no one was figuring it out but because it felt like no one in the mainstream media was talking about it. They'd get asked these deep artistic questions about a certain scene (like the quote below which has spoilers) and it would be asked completely seriously and they'd give this answer like, "Oh we didn't want to show all that gore but we had no choice."

And I'm just sitting their flabbergasted like... what the fuck are you talking about, just admit that's what you wanted to depict?? That's what gave you a boner to tell this particular story??

Let me be clear, an artist choosing to depict gore and cruelty isn't a problem. I'm not a horror fan but it's not like I think horror shouldn't exist, or gore, or horrifying scenes that shock us to our marrow. That's very much a thing art can and should do!

I just feel like I'm fucking crazy because Benioff and Weiss and the people interviewing them never seem to get that this is their story kink. They always put this like... veneer of genteel shock and respectability over their questions about the cruel and gorey scenes they depict, like it just happened that way, when it's really really clear this is the stuff they like showing the most.

Benioff and Weiss's Game of Thrones was literally more gorey, graphic, and dehumanizing in places than the actual book. Where they departed from the books was, more often than not, to make things more abjectly cruel, dehumanizing, and shocking towards the characters. That's what they like doing as creators.

So this scene in Three Body Problem...

(SPOILERS)

... Where the ship gets slashed to ribbons and little children are literally shredded apparently isn't even depicted in the book.

"“We wanted to show it, we didn’t want to evade it,” Benioff said at a roundtable earlier this month. “I think when you actually see something on a screen, it is going to be more horrific than in the book. You’re reading these descriptions, but you’re not seeing blood, you’re not seeing a bunch of kids running away, you’re not seeing children’s backpacks getting split in half.” (source)

Didn't want to evade it? The book literally doesn't show children getting shredded and you went out of your way to show us numerous scenes introducing these children just so you can lovingly show them and their world get shredded to ribbons while completely aware and confronting the full horror of their fates like...

Again, I am not trying to moralize here. There is a space for horror, there is a space for exploring horrible things happening to innocents.

But they always talk about these very deliberate depictions of abject cruelty as if it's just *shrugs* "What can ya do? It had to be done!" NO IT DIDN'T. IT'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE BOOK IN THAT WAY. JUST OWN IT. OWN YOUR ARTISTIC VISION. OWN THE FACT YOU GLORY IN MAKING SLASHER LEVELS OF GORE AND TORTURE AND DEHUMANIZATION. STOP BEING SO FUCKING GENTEEL ABOUT IT. JUST FUCKING... LEAN IN TO WHAT YOU ARE INSTEAD OF ACTING LIKE IT WASN'T THE CHANCE TO SHOW CRUELTY THAT ATTRACTED YOU TO THE STORY IN THE FIRST PLACE.

And just as a lateral, US politics note, it felt like this under Trump too. I'm not saying artists depicting cruelty in an artistic work is anything like a politician with real power reveling in flexes of power channeled towards deliberate acts of fascistic cruelty.

But in both cases I felt like I was taking crazy pills because the media would just... speculate about the root desire behind such actions? Like "What could possibly be motivating these guys? Gosh, we don't know, to say what's actually happening here would be far too gauche so we'll just pretend it was an unpleasant byproduct of their TRUE goals, whatever those may be, no matter how implausible they may be."

Like: it's cruelty! The point is cruelty! Some people are just sadists! Some people get off on hurting others or in having the power to hurt others OR (and this is by far the only acceptable version of this and by the way it's completely acceptable to do this in FICTION) in creating artistic works that depict terrible cruelty and sadism.

... So anyway, I definitely went into Three Body Problem going, "Huh, I wonder why Benioff and Weiss chose THIS supremely difficult story to adapt as one of their next big projects?" And then I saw the boat getting shredded and the children they added to the loving depictions of gore and was like, "... Ah, yes. That's why."

(Edit: Just to be clear for those thinking of watching the show, it's not a gore-fest. It was easy to see this scene coming and to look away for it. There's some other moments of violence but those are also pretty easy to anticipate and look away from. This isn't a slasher horror show and it's had a lot of good points (so far). This particular scene just made me go, "Ah, there's the Benioff and Weiss I remember.")

[shyinsunlight]

You call yourself a Regulus stan while you publicly hate talk about Jegulus? You don’t deserve him.

oh, anon.

the only reason i answer this is because i think i know who you are. and i think you sent me this because i pissed you off with an incest joke after you told me to seek therapy for shipping tomarry.

i don’t deserve him? why, you do? he’s a fictional character from a children’s book series where we have like 4 lines of canon about him. he’s. not. real. is it perhaps time to take a step back and ask yourself why you’re getting so worked up about an internet stranger’s interpretation of an imaginary person?

about regulus, jegulus, and why we need to touch grass

i don’t bash ships (publicly) because that’s not what fandom should be about. it should be a creative safe space where we can all enjoy our interests without getting annoying hate anons/harassment for it.

i have several fandom friends who are jegulus shippers, and—surprise—we get along amazingly. we respect each other’s preferences, don’t force our ships on each other, and can have intelligent discussions without losing our shit. they write their thing, i write mine, and somehow, the world’s still spinning. wild concept, i know.

it’s not a secret that i don't like jegulus. it means that i filter it out as a tag, and i don’t engage with jegulus content. i keep vibing in my corner of the internet, enjoying the interpretations i actually like. so why are you, and numerous other jegulus shippers so obsessed with forcing your interpretation on me and on others? what gives you the right to bash me for shipping tomarry while demanding that i accept jegulus as gospel truth?

it’s genuinely unfair how a vocal minority can taint the reputation of an entire ship community, especially when there are so many jegulus shippers who do nothing but quietly enjoy their content and respect others’ boundaries.

let’s be real here for a second. jegulus is the textbook definition of a crack ship. james, who canonically despised everything the black family stood for, who’s best friend is sirius (who literally ran away from that family), who fought against blood supremacy and everything regulus believed in… would he fall for his best friend’s baby brother who was actively choosing to be a death eater? 

and regulus, who thought blood traitors were beneath him, who probably saw james as the person who corrupted his brother and turned him against his family, who’s partly responsible for regulus losing sirius… would he want to date him? touch him, at all? 

these two would never even want to talk to each other, let alone be involved romantically. regulus most likely thought james wasn’t even worth being spat on—and james would’ve seen regulus as nothing but another blood purity-obsessed mini death eater who hurt his best friend.

making this ship work requires completely butchering both regulus’ and james’ characters into something that’s further away from canon than draco malfoy working in lululemon as a soft-spoken slam poetry major.

imagine having such a surface-level understanding of regulus’ character that you think the most interesting thing about him is his potential to be james’ boyfriend… regulus, who:

grew up believing he was superior to others 

was the spare heir until he suddenly had to shoulder all the family expectations after sirius left (and since we’re here, yes, he probably felt the need to overcompensate after this. i personally don’t see how it leads to him wanting to make out with james in broom closets, but you do you) 

had such a complicated relationship with his brother which deserves so much more exploration than reducing him to ending up dating his best friend

was so devoted to voldemort that he put up posters in his little fanboy lair

willingly joined a terrorist organisation

was kind to kreacher yet still gave him to voldemort for “testing”

made one single good decision in the end 

he wasn’t misunderstood, and that’s not what his story is about. it’s about choices, consequences, and what it means to finally do the right thing for once even when it costs you everything. (also, he failed even in that because he just made it all worse for everyone else later. he's a flop and i love him for that.)

listen, i get it. fanon is fun!! headcanons are fun!! i write many au fics, and i totally understand the appeal of playing with characterisation and what ifs. but there’s a “hey, this is my fun interpretation about this” and an “if you don’t accept my interpretation then fuck you, you’re fake, you don’t deserve him.”

SHIP AND LET SHIP

[achaoticeternal]

loving all of you

aemond targaryen x plus size!reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

- Aemond had first encountered your presence at a council event for the Wardens of Westeros. With your father being a Lord with a notable name, he had brought you along in hopes that you may learn from other ladies of the courts. Your Lord Father would also be scouting for suitors who presented any interest in you.

- While the court discussed more confidential matters, many people had been dismissed until the feast that would occur that evening.

- Though many ladies and maidens collected in the garden for tea, you had dismissed yourself to peruse the library. The maesters back home had mentioned to you the extensive collection of books housed within the Red Keep and you would not deny yourself the power of discovery.

- That’s how Aemond found you. Perched on one of the love seats with a stack of books near you. You would be quickly scanning through the texts, looking for something to peak your interests during your free time here.

- “I believe that most of the ladies have collected themselves in the gardens, my lady.”

- Quickly, you snapped your head around to see the Prince as he stood stoic with an underlying air of confidence. There were many stories about the Prince you had heard in your region. How he was disfigured after his sister’s son cut out his eye, how he was equally cruel with tongue and sword, and how he should be considered a fierce warrior, compared to the King’s Brother, Daemon Targaryen.

- “Apologies, my prince. The gossip of the ladies had grown stale. I did not mean to intrude on the space, just merely see the glory of the Royal Library.”

- That had peaked his interest, which was rarely as common for the ladies of the court to seem so… intellectual. It was a trait he saw in his sisters, and one he could see in you.

- “Well, my lady, you are welcome to explore our collections. But I will have to remain with you for… integrity’s sake.”

- Quickly, your time in the library had developed into a friendship. Moons would pass between when your family would occupy the Keep and return home. For some reason, your Lord father had been continually invited back with the expectation that he bring his daughter family.

- One evening, you sat with Aemond during a feast. Both of you had chuckled at the gossip you had overheard, and filled your chalices of wine many times. Many of the other young people present were currently dancing upon the open are of the floor, while you and the prince remained still. 

- “Do you see any young lady who catches your fancy?” You asked your friend with a giggle, “I’m sure that any of them are more than willing to take a prince for a husband, if not just bed them this very night.”

- As you laughed at your tipsy sentiment, Aemond rolled his eyes in disbelief, “None of these girls draw my attention...”

- Aemond went silent for a moment before continuing his idea, “I want a woman for a wife...”

- This statement caused you to laugh more, lightly swatting his arm, “You are nine and ten years and yet you speak of a wife like an elder northman.”

- “You are eight and ten,” Aemond replied back, “Are you not a woman?”

- Your laughter had paused as you glanced at the prince with a strange curiosity, “I suppose I am a woman, but I’m not like any of them,” You replied, eyeing the fine young ladies of the crowd as they danced with the noblemen. 

- “I’m afraid I do not understand your sentiment, my lady,” Aemond looked upon you, his expression far more serious, “It is true that you are not like those dull ladies dancing with any lord who approaches them, and yet you seem solemn about that fact.”

- “I do not attend the dance floor as often as they do,” You explained to him.

- “Well, of course you don’t, for you are to busy here at my side unless we choose to partake in the festivities,” Aemond’s demeanor had fallen back to being observant and inquisitive.

- “My prince, I do not get to attend the floor because no Lord or nobleman asks for my hand,” You stated plainly, your jaw clenched from your embarrassment, “Nor should I expect them to when there are finer ladies to ask and to court.”

- Aemond went silent for quite a few moment. One hand clutching the arm rest of his seat, the other firmly grasping his chalice. He stared straight ahead. When the silence had turned too tense for you, you grabbed your own cup, raising it to your lips. 

- “I do not know why you belittle yourself with such words and thoughts when you are the very image of the Maiden,” Aemond began.

- At his words, you recalled one of your evenings in the royal library with the prince. Together, you had poured over a book about the Seven and the art created to depict them. Aemond had opened the Maiden section, both of you flipping through the pages until he found one that caught his attention. Your eyes scanned over the depictions of the sweet and good Maiden during the silence. That was until he spoke, his words taking you by surprise that night, “You have the face and the body of the Maiden... Beautiful and divine...”

- You swallowed the lump in your throat as your turned to meet his gaze, “Aemond...”

- “My lady, you must understand that to me, you are more beautiful in body and soul than any other woman here. To me, you are who I see in the Maiden, from the curve of your lips, to the kindess in your heart, and the curve of your hip. There is no one I’ve wanted by my side more than at these terrible feats — why do you think that is?”

- “Because we are friends?” You stuttered.

- Aemond shook his head softly, “Because I care for you so deeply, that for three summers now, I have begged my mother to continue inviting your father and your family to anything that would suffice a stay at the keep. It is also important that you know that I have been planning to extend an offer of courtship to your father before you can leave my side again...”

- At the admission, you took a sharp gasp, nearly speechless, “my prince...”

- “I know you feel the same for me,” Aemond stated quite matter-of-factly, “but tell me, sweet lady, do you feel for me as I do for you?”

- At his question, you glanced from his eye to the floor, “There is no sense in denying what you already know to be true.”

- His hand quickly captured your chin between his fingers, brings your gaze back up to meet his, “Then one day, I plan to have you as my wife, and love all of you... properly...”