#the first third is a very good war book

[ayegomorrah]

The Forever War by Joe Haldeman truly sucked ass and doesnt belong to the must read canon tm now its so incredibly 70s. It's not even a shooting and crying book though i do think its scifi metaphors for alienation and combat ptsd are very good it just. Packs in every possible societal anxiety of the time from women's and gay lib to urban crime to road warrior-esque apocalyptic gangs to overpopulation to fear of the horrible eastern hive mind whose primitive ways our individualistic culture can never understand. It treats the Vietnam war as some tragic miscommunication, almost. Fairly troubling how many "anti war" works are like this, and still get praised now, i must say.

[gojorgeous]

"business or pleasure?"

pairing: gojo x fem!reader summary: the gojo clan decides it’s time to secure an heir… and you’re the lucky woman selected for the job… content: HEAVY breeding, arranged marriage, language, praise, dacryphilia, p->v, fingering, mating press, a lil’ blood (if you squint), pet names, implied multiple rounds, gojo just generally being a menace, no established relationship, reader and gojo literally just met, reader is literally there for the purpose of getting pregnant, positive pregnancy test at the end, ideas of women as baby incubators :x, consent king gojo. wc: 3.7k a/n: I HAVE RETURNED!!! Hey!!!!!! Long time no see, babes. I was looking at my account and I haven’t posted a fic in *cough* TWO YEARS. There is simply no way that’s real 😭 Anyway, I’ve returned with something slightly different: A Gojo fic. You’re welcome. Mwah. Also, please send messages I miss y'all. happy new year bbs. and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

It’s only your third time in Japan. The first had been to visit family friends when you were eight, the second for a girls’ trip after you graduated college. You liked it. Tokyo was bright and busy and full of shops and things to do. The countryside always offered beauty and peace. But this third time was different. No shopping, no temples, no amusement parks. You were here for business, not pleasure. 

You run a finger along the edge of a mahogany bookshelf. Your feet are killing you, a flick of your ankles tossing your heels across the room. Your nose wrinkles when you land on a particular title. The Art of War? Interesting choice… You scan the other books, and your brows rise when you find a strange combination of academics, young adult, manga, and high fantasy? A multi-genre reader, then…

You absentmindedly rub at the arch of your foot, pushing out the ache as best you can. A day so full of stress has left you weary. Your mother hadn’t stopped hovering until the moment you’d escaped into your car, a new husband on your arm. 

You sigh. You could still hear the shower running along with said husband humming loudly to a tune you didn’t recognize. At least your groom wasn’t shy. 

A glance toward the bed has your brows raising. Were those… squishmallows? One looked like a shark, the other like a… sushi? You press your lips together, avoiding a laugh he would surely hear. You make your way to the mattress, sighing when you finally get to sit. You pull the sushi into your arms, hugging the pillow to your chest, but it no longer seemed so funny anymore. You had bigger things to think about. Your legs press together in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. All the way from America you’d come to marry the Gojo heir. It had been a rushed arrangement. Apparently, the Gojo clan had finally put their foot down and decided their heir should finally get to the business of making another heir. There’d been a search far and wide for the best match and somehow, they’d settled on you. An accomplished sorcerer yourself and abilities in your blood that only strengthened those of the Gojo line, you’d been an suitable pick. It didn’t hurt that you were young, healthy, and (upon a trip to a renowned fertility clinic) proven to be very fertile. 

Your parents had been oh-so eager to accept the Gojo clan’s proposition. The Gojo heir’s power hadn’t been matched in nearly 400 years. Any and every family would jump at the opportunity to be tied to them, especially through marriage and heirs. You were surprised you’d been chosen considering all of the options there must have been. 

Satoru seemed… fine, you thought. You hadn’t had much time to talk with him privately. The first time you’d met had been on a phone call with both of your sets of parents present and the next had been at the altar. At one point in the night he’d asked a waiter to refill your wine glass and he’d been a rather good dancer. Other than that, you’d been pulled apart at all odds and ends until you’d come back here: his apartment. 

You’d expected something a little more lavish for your wedding night, especially considering the spectacle that your wedding had been. Ice sculptures, thousand dollar bouquets, and diamond encrusted wedding rings had turned to an elegantly decorated bachelor pad. A glance around revealed a space that was obviously lived in, with odd mixes of $10,000 dollar chairs and… squishmallows.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, eyes peeling over the half-moons of your nails and the heavy gems that now sit on the fourth finger of your left hand. They are a weight you feel the pressure of. A pressure to live up to expectations, to produce a much-desired product. 

A door opens down the hall and you realize the pounding of water and the lilting of a hum has ceased. Your husband is done with his shower. 

A few seconds later he reveals himself, prancing down the hallway and into his bedroom like it’s just another Tuesday and not his wedding night. A plush blue towel is slung low around his waist and from the rivulets of water running all over his body you judge that he hadn’t even taken the time to properly dry off. Not that you mind.

You’d known your new husband was beautiful but you’d never imagined he’d be so… so goddamn seductive. 

Washboard abs, toned arms, sculpted back, wet hair and icy eyes… he was the image of a god. 

“Sorry for making you wait. I really needed that.” 

Gojo prods at his temples, eyes squished shut in what looked like a moment of pain. You’d heard of this problem from the clan. He hadn’t worn his blindfold all day for the sake of the wedding. It was no wonder the effects were catching up with him. 

“No problem.” 

A small smile reveals just a few blinding teeth and you could swear your vision went out for just a moment. 

“You hungry?” 

You arch a brow. The man had eaten two full plates and practically half the cake not yet an hour ago. 

“Can’t say that I am.” 

“Hm.” 

He nods and you watch as he plucks a stray candy off his bedside table, tossing the wrapper to the floor. 

“So, uh-” You watch the butterscotch bulge in his cheek. “You really wanna do this?” 

You glance at your half-naked husband who is practically a walking temptation. You take a breath. He’s standing so casually, as if this is a normal conversation to be having and not something life-altering.

“You don’t?” you ask.

All that gets you is a shit-eating grin. 

“Never said that.” 

You can’t help the smirk that crawls across your lips. 

“Well, we might as well get it over with, no?” 

Another flash of pearly whites. 

“Get it over with, hm?” 

You miss his meaning, pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread. 

“It shouldn’t take much effort. I’m on so many fertility meds you could probably spit on me and I’d get pregnant.” 

You pick at the thread a little more, biting your lip when you realize it’s one of those strands that’s infinite. 

“That so?” 

You jolt when a speck of wetness lands on your cheek. A quick glance reveals a fuzzy blue towel far too close for comfort. A half-naked Gojo is a whole lot closer than he’d been just seconds ago. How is he so quiet? 

Blue eyes bore into yours, water dripping down white strands and onto your skin. He’s so damn tall. He has your neck craned all the way back just to meet his gaze. 

“Yes.” You swallow. “It was part of our prenup.”

Dazed. You’re absolutely dazed. 

“Well, we probably shouldn’t risk breaking a legally binding contract, hm?” 

Closer. He’s coming closer. Too close. 

You lean back, scooting yourself up the bed in a feeble attempt to get a little more space, your emotional support sushi tumbling to the floor. He follows right after you. 

Something primal thrusts through your veins at the sight of a man, sopping wet and smirking, crawling after you, some mix of teasing and pure drive hidden in his eyes. Gojo doesn’t stop, not until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Close. Too close. 

You’d thought he would have dried a bit by now, but water still slicks off his skin and hair, showering you lightly. You shiver and your husband notices. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you get a breath of the sweetness of butterscotch and mint toothpaste. 

“You say stop,” he breathes, “and we stop.”

He leans closer, so close you can smell the eucalyptus and myrrh of his shampoo, the musk of his body wash, the candied sweetness of his breath. Those piercing blue eyes flit to your lips and back up again. 

A breath, a pause. 

“Stop?” he asks. His eyes are piercing.

You shake your head. 

“Go.” 

Lips, teeth, tongue. All of it hits you at once. For a moment you’re too shocked to respond, but then his weight is leaning on you and his hand is on your waist and his mouth tastes like candy and- and then you’re kissing him back. 

A heavy hand digs into the flesh of your waist and your hands find a patch of damp white hair to tangle in. 

He tastes good- too good and when a deft hand guides you down to the mattress you start to think that this whole baby-making business might not be so bad after all. 

Teeth knock, tongues touch, and you are on the edge of what would have been a particularly throaty moan when he pulls away. 

His attention shifts elsewhere, kisses trailing down your neck and hands straying to your hips.

“Have you-” a kiss to your collarbone. “Done this before?”

You freeze.

“What?” 

Gojo raises his head a bit and the most irritating kind of smirk plays on his lips. 

“Don’t know- thought maybe this was a virgin for your super rich husband kinda thing?” 

You shove his head back down.

“Shut up.”

He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your skin. 

“Okay, sp no need to go slow then…” 

His lips continue their assault, brushing and grazing over your skin until it lifts with goosebumps. Your breaths come a little faster, a little heavier and you gasp when his hand curls beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Oh? What’s this?” His fingers brush against the garter that rests at the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had you agreed to wear the damn thing? You reach down, hoping to quickly rid yourself of the scrap of fabric before you can become oven more mortified. You’re just about to clamp down on it when Gojo catches your wrist. “Ah, ah. No need to be so hasty.” Your hand is easily pinned down to the mattress and, for some reason, you don’t fight it. 

Your breath catches when your skirt lifts only for Gojo to dive beneath it without a second thought. You feel his teeth grazing across the skin of your thigh. 

“Gojo-” you breathe, squirming. 

His head reappears suddenly, another one of those mischievous grins gracing his lips. “Satoru when I’m about to be inside you, baby.” 

He disappears again and you gasp and wiggle when you feel his tongue laving across the inside of your thigh. 

His teeth graze you again, but this time they clamp down on the garter and you feel it slowly sliding across your skin, down, down, past your knee and eventually to your ankle where Satoru finally yanks it past your foot with a final tug. 

You stare at him, wide eyed and lustful. That had to have been one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. 

Satoru plucks the garter from his teeth and dangles it in front of his eyes. It’s a white, lacy little thing that matches the shade of his hair. He’s grinning again when he slides it onto his wrist like a bracelet– no, like a trophy.

“Thanks for the present.” He’s still grinning, still staring, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “How attached are you to this dress?” he asks. 

You blink, swallowing nervously, unable to break away from his gaze. It’s too strong, too mesmerizing. “Not… attached at all,” you manage. It’s true. Somebody else picked it out, and you’ve only been wearing it for about an hour– and it’s not like you can’t just buy a new one now with access to the Gojo bank accounts. 

His grin somehow grows even wider. “Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” 

There’s a splitting sound and suddenly your dress is tearing straight down the middle. It’s slow and controlled and you wonder if he’s practiced at this or if his strength is just that regulated. You find yourself hoping it’s the latter. 

The dress is ripped from your skin and you see it land somewhere across the room. You hear something shatter along with a thud, but Satoru seems anything but worried, so you ignore it. 

You’re bare in just your undergarments, a lacy white set that you’re now half proud of and half embarrassed by. 

Satoru whistles and his hands settle on your waist. “Damn, baby. Why’d you keep all this hidden for so long?” 

You scoff, your confidence surging. You reach for him, grabbing a scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, Toru.” 

The sound of the nickname on your lips makes him shiver and you smirk triumphantly.

“Hmm…” is all he says as his fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they’re dipping beneath the band of your panties. It’s somewhere between tortuous and ticklish and you squirm. “Ah, ah. Hold still for me, now.” He presses one hand to the valley between your breasts, holding you down as his other hand continues lower. When his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and presses down your back arches and your breath escapes. 

He chuckles. “Little needy, aren’t you?” His thumb moves a little higher, grazing your clit, and you whimper. 

With one deft movement he unclasps your bra, tossing it aside. You register for just a moment that your chest is now completely bare, but soon enough his mouth is closing around your nipple and all else is forgotten. 

“S-Satoru!” you whisper. Your voice feels hoarse, even if it has no reason to be. 

His thumb continues its assault between your thighs. “So wet already, baby…” He sounds ecstatic. The grin on his lips makes you whine. “Let’s get these out of the way…” Before you know it, you hear more tearing and then cold air hits your cunt. You cry out when Satoru’s thumb returns to its ministrations, but this time there’s no cloth barrier to dull the sensation. Your hands push out and your nails curl into his bare shoulders. You need him closer.

“Satoru…” you breathe. “Kiss me…” 

That shit-eating grin returns, but he follows your command. “As my wife wishes.” 

When lips meet yours it’s hot and messy. Your nails claw down his back and you’re sure you’re leaving marks. If he minds, he certainly doesn’t show it.

His thumb continues at your clit as a finger prods at your entrance. When he slides in slowly, you gasp. He murmurs something about you being so sensitive, and proceeds to quickly find that gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Before you know it he’s adding a second finger and soon your hips are rocking against his thrusts, meeting his pace as you chase your high. 

“God, you’re so wet.” he whispers against your lips. True to his word, he’s been kissing you, never letting up in his attack on your mouth. “Bet you taste like fucking heaven.”

You whine, your hips stuttering against his hand. “G-Gonna… I’m–” 

He grins again, and pulls away just enough to meet your gaze. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” Your eyes flutter shut, your head rolling back– “Nuh, uh. Keep those eyes open. Wanna see every second.” 

Your breaths flutter and you whimper loudly, the sound bouncing on the walls. You’re not sure why you listen, why you fight to keep your eyes open, locked on him, but you do. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll pull away and leave you wanting… or maybe you just want to please him.

You feel your muscles clenching in your stomach, hear the sloppy sounds of Satoru’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, see the gleeful anticipation in his eyes. His thumb rubs a particularly delicious circle around your clit and you feel yourself thrown over the edge. 

You can’t help but be loud. You hold his gaze the whole time, whimpering and whining his name as you gush all over his sheets. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching, holding him inside, desperate to be filled. You hear him panting above you, like watching has somehow taken his breath away. 

“Good girl,” he whispers and you feel a second wave of pleasure ripple through you. 

You feel weak by the time your orgasm leaves you. Your muscles are limp and your cunt is so sensitive that you flinch when Satoru removes his fingers. He brushes a tear from the corner of your eye and you watch as he brings his sopping fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices clean. He moans, a deep throaty sound, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. You watch his eyes roll back in his skull, watch his throat bob as he swallows. Your lips part at the sight. 

His fingers fall from his mouth with a pop and his grin returns.

“Just like I thought,” he says. “Heaven.” 

He’s back on you in a second, licking a stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. His hips slot between your own and a strong hands hook around the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. You whimper. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so completely and utterly exposed. 

“On to the main event, yeah?” The twinkle in his eye has your heart racing even faster. His fingers catch the towel that is somehow still wrapped snugly around his waist. With one tug, it’s gone and your mouth is watering in anticipation. 

Your jaw drops lower, if it’s even possible. He’s… huge. Long and pretty with veins that you know are going to rub just right. His tip is pink and leaking, ready. 

“Satoru, it won’t–” 

His lips connect to your pulse, licking and sucking when you feel him prodding at your entrance. “It’ll fit, baby.” 

He slides himself through your folds, gathering your juices and torturing you every time his tip bumps your clit. By the time he’s finally lining himself up, you’re practically begging. 

The first push is heaven. You’re both moaning when he prods past that first tight ring of muscle and you’re gasping, crying out his name and clawing at his back. He keeps pushing, filling you inch by inch until he’s pressed snugly against your cervix. You thank him aloud when he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim. He only kisses the tears from your cheeks. 

The first thrust has you seeing stars, little white spots clouding your vision. The second has your nails embedding in his skin hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it has him moving faster, grunting in your ear and whimpering your name.

“Sooo… f-ahh-ucking t-tight…” he whispers. 

A hand slides between your sweaty bodies, a thumb rubbing familiar circles against your swollen clit. You cry out, clenching down like a vice. 

“F-Fuck, princess.” 

His thrusts rock your body and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the air. You feel that familiar coil begin to form, to heat at your core. Your muscles tighten and your legs begin to shake. 

“Atta girl. Cum on my cock, baby.” 

You whimper at the praise, at the incessant rubbing of your clit, at the relentless pounding of your cervix. It’s all too much, too good. 

“Satoru…” you cry. Your legs burn and ache. Satoru has your knees pressed so tightly to your chest you’re afraid something might snap. It only adds to the tension beginning to unravel at your center. You feel as if you’re burning, as if you’re going to snap– and then you do. Heat unravels beneath your skin and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your legs tremble and your toes curl and you vaguely hear your husband whispering a mix of curses and praises in your ear. You’re still lost in the sensation when he starts groaning and you feel him flooding your insides with shallow thrusts close to your cervix, filling you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You’re still panting when you finally regain your mind. Satoru’s still on top of you, completely limp with his head buried in your neck. You curl a hand into his hair, silently holding him close. That was some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You smirk. Yeah, maybe this baby-making business wasn’t going to be so bad. 

You shiver when you feel Satoru licking and sucking at your skin. There’s a tenderness in the action that makes you pull him closer. He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but you can already feel him hardening inside you, ready for another round. 

“Think it stuck?” he asks. You smirk and answer with a breathy laugh. 

“Don’t know.” Silently, you think that there’s no way it didn’t. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs and there’s just so much of it.

He lifts his head, eyes bright and sparkling even in the dim light. He grins. “Guess we’d better make sure.” 

~

With the rate at which Satoru fucks you it’s no surprise when you get two positive little pink lines a few week later. You tell Satoru by unceremoniously dropping the test in front of him while he’s drinking his morning coffee. He only grins and kisses you before he bends you over the counter, whispering something about needing to show you how appreciative he is when he slides inside you. The next morning you wake to Satoru’s lips on yours, a brand new credit card, and a new car in the driveway, fitted with all of the newest safety features (only the best for his wife and baby, he says). You sigh and smile when you see it. Yeah, this whole baby-making business definitely wasn’t so bad.

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[obsessedwithceleste]

All’s Fair in Love and Quidditch

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader

Summary: All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom.

word count: 3.7k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

“Get your wand. Out of my face.” You growl between clenched teeth, glaring up at the tall boy in front of you whose wand was dangerously close to the tip of your nose.

Theodore Nott. You’d first met the boy in third year on the quidditch pitch after his team had beat yours. It had been a long and grueling match and the only reason they’d won is because of that bloody snitch. Ravenclaw had been up in points the entire match. You remember the boy smirking at you as you lowered your broom to the ground.

“Better luck next time principessa.” He’d said.

You’d taken that personally, and the very next week, you’d stolen the position of top of the class in potions from him. This had apparently acted as a declaration of war as the two of you began constantly finding ways to outdo one another.

You seethed with hatred for the boy. Constantly challenging you in classes, on the pitch, even at prefects meetings. You two simply could not see eye to eye; which he constantly reminded you was likely because he was well over half a foot taller than you. Bloody bastard. It didn’t help that the boy was aggravatingly handsome. A detail you couldn’t help but appreciate as he loomed above you. Still, you glare on.

Despite the immediate threat of peril, you remained surprisingly calm knowing that, while you and Theodore may be intense rivals, he’d never actually harm you. At least you hoped. You’d seen his knuckles bloodied plenty of times before, but he’d never harmed so much as a hair on your head. Yet.

Theo’s words shake you back into the present.

“Then get off the bloody pitch. Like we said, we have the pitch booked until 7.”

“No, we booked it starting at 6. We have a signed slip from Flitwick,” You retort.

You watch Theodore’s eyes flick over to the piece of paper Cho was now brandishing smugly before whipping around to his teammates behind him.

“What the hell Malfoy. You were supposed to have Snape reserve the field!” He shouts.

You roll your eyes at the bickering boys. This is one of the many reasons you disliked the male population of Slytherin house. Wildly disorganized, yet still expecting to have everything handed to them.

“I did! They must’ve bloody double booked it!” Draco replies, glaring at the paper.

“Well then it looks like either you all leave, or we’re sharing,” you say decidedly, much to the grumbling of your teammates.

Theo scowls at you. “We gathered as much thanks- we’re not idiots.”

You give the boy a sugary sweet smile. “You’re doing an awfully good impression of it then.” You reply, hoping that if you annoyed him enough, he’d leave already.

You watch the boy’s jaw and fists clench tightly as his scowl deepens before he turns and stalks off.

“C’mon. I’m not dealing with that bloody witch today.” He snaps at his teammates who follow hesitantly, but not before shooting some nasty looks over their shoulders.

Once they’re out of earshot, you hear your teammates burst into laughter.

“That was bloody brilliant!” One of your beaters calls out, leaning on his broom as he shakes with laughter.

“Oh y/n, he so likes you,” Cho snickers as she pushes past you onto the field.

Your jaw drops open at that and you rush after the girl.

“Excuse you, you can’t just walk off after dropping something so wildly ridiculous on me like that,” you protest, mirroring your friend as she hops on her broom and takes off into the air.

“Oh please. I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a well placed diffindo charm. And he’d never give in to anyone else that easily. Now heads up or your head will be taken off by that bludger,” she responds easily, dodging out of the path of the ball hurtling towards you.

You quickly follow, barely managing to side sweep the bludger before turning back to your friend. Before you’re able to further probe her however, she’s taken off in search of the elusive snitch.

You try to shake off her words as you continue to fly through practice, joining your fellow chasers as they go head to head with your keeper, trying to make a shot through one of the hoops.

“Nice shot, y/n! Better keep that aim up for the game this weekend. I wanna beat those snakes so bad,” the keeper shouts as you make throw past him.

“Not a chance in hell those slithering bastards are taking the cup again,” you reply with a grin.

“Excited to see your little witch today?” Matteo asks, plopping himself into his seat next to Theo.

Theo glares at his curly haired friend, snapping his textbook closed with a grunt.

“She’s not my witch Mattheo. I can’t stand her,” Theo mumbles back.

“Right, right. It’s just y/n this, y/n that. Did you see y/n helping Cormac with charms the other day? He’s such a bloody wanker. Blah, blah, blah.” Enzo says, joining the two boys at the desk next to them.

Theo scowls at his so called friends. So what if he happened to notice you a bit too often? They knew full well that the two of you had a sort of rivalry going on and that he had to keep tabs on you to make sure you didn’t sneak something by him. Constant vigilance and what not.

Before he could defend himself however, you burst through the doors of the potions classroom with a group of your fellow Ravenclaws, coming to take your spot at the desk directly in front of him.

“Hey, thanks for giving us the pitch last night Theodore. Stomping off the field like that, was really such a testament to you being the bigger person.” You say, turning to give the boy an innocent smile as you slide into your seat.

“What can I say, I just know your team will need all the help they can get to try and beat us tomorrow,” Theo replied easily, eyes falling as he notices the hem of your skirt ride up a bit higher than normal as you sit down.

“Aw, that’s so considerate coming from someone whose shooting percentage is barely over 50%.”

Theo’s eyes snap up at this.

You hear Enzo snicker at that before he quickly attempts to cover it up with a loud cough.

“Yeah? It’s so interesting that you know my stats off the top of your head.” Theo retorts.

“They really help build my ego when I feel like I’m playing poorly.”

“So always?”

You glare at the boy, but before you’re able to respond, the professor clears their throat, forcing you to turn in your seat.

As the professor begins droning on about whatever potion it was that you were to be making that day, Theo’s eyes couldn’t help but wander to the pretty witch in front of him. For such a pain in his side, you sure were easy on the eyes. Before he knows it, he feels Mattheo’s elbow digging into his rib cage.

“C’mon lover boy, neither of us are going to pass if you don’t start focusing less on y/n and more on this potion, cause I was not paying attention.” Mattheo grunts, pulling him off his seat and over to the stock of potion ingredients along the back wall.

“I wasn’t even looking at her,” Theo protests, glaring at his friend as he begins pulling ingredients haphazardly off the shelves.

“Right. Because if you were, you’d have noticed that the white ribbon in her hair was crooked. Bothered me the entire time we were sitting there.” Mattheo replies, leaning lazily against the counter.

Theo shoots a nasty look at his friend realizing his eyes had once again wandered over to the witch in question.

“The ribbon in her hair is navy blue you dolt. And it’s not crooked.”

Mattheo gives him a victorious smirk.

“Too true. So glad we cleared up the fact that you were only staring enough to remember the exact color of her hair ribbon and whether or not it was crooked.”

With another smug look over his shoulder, Mattheo saunters back over to their shared desk, leaving Theo to finish collecting ingredients in agitated silence.

Glancing back down at his list, Theo quickly collected the rest of their ingredients, tossing the anjelica, bitter root, and daisy root essence into his basket, careful to not steal any more obvious glances at you.

As he went to return to his seat, the soft petals of the flower assortments sitting neatly in their assigned jars once again caught Theo’s eyes and a small smile grew as a masterful plan began to form.

“That BLOODY, FUCKING SNAKE!” you shriek as you open your quidditch locker to find a stunning bouquet of bright daises and velvet roses propped up against your broom.

Hearing the commotion, Cho rushes over to find you glaring menacingly at the offending flowers, a look of exasperation overtaking her face.

“For Rowena’s sake, not flowers. How dare he. The nerve,” she says dryly.

“Aww. How romantic. That’s so sweet. Are they from Theodore?” One of the other chasers adds, coming to see what all the noise was about.

Your glare shifts to your teammates as they peak into your locker to get a glimpse of the flowers.

“I’m allergic.” You grit out. As if to emphasize your point, you let out a loud sneeze, feeling the pollen reach your nose.

Your teammates’ faces fall slightly at your statement and you go to extract the flowers from your locker.

“Well- I suppose there’s something to be said about the fact that he knows exactly which flowers you’re allergic to, and how he went out of his way to buy them for you?” Cho offers as you toss the flowers onto the bench behind you.

A note flutters to the floor.

“Yes. It can be said that he’s a psychotic wanker with too much free time,” you say, bending down to snatch the note off the ground.

Good luck Principessa, hope you play similarly to how the flowers make you feel xxTheodore

“He literally tried to kill me so I wouldn’t be able to play,” you announce dramatically, thrusting the note card towards Cho who rolls her eyes as she shakes her head at you.

“Alright, we need to focus. Y/n, get rid of those flowers, we don’t need you sniffling all match. Everyone on the pitch in 15!” Cho yells, pulling the team together.

Shaking the thoughts of that damn Slytherin from your mind, you unceremoniously dump the large bouquet into the trash before quickly changing into your robes.

“Everyone remember the new offensive formations? We need to take them by surprise. They’ve gotten way too comfortable running the same defense against every team. Remember. If you can’t see Mattheo or Blaise, they’ve flanked you and there’s already a bludger aimed at the back of your head. Theo and Enzo stick together, third chaser is on their own. Flint is a lefty, if you can, always go for the right hoop. Prioritize y/n, when going for the goal posts unless you think they’ve picked up on it. Don’t worry about me and Draco, focus on gaining a lead. Everyone clear?”

You blink once, soaking in Cho’s words.

“Alright. Let’s get out there and stomp on some snakes.”

Your teammates let out loud whoops as you make your way out to the field, adrenaline beginning to course through your body. The breeze blows gently through your hair and the sun shines softly behind a thin layer of clouds. The perfect day for quidditch.

As you grow closer to the pitch, you can hear the loud cheers and hollers coming from the stands, the faces of your fellow Ravenclaws grinning down at you.

“Coin toss is on you, y/n. Try not to let him rile you up too much, yeah?” Cho says, mounting her broom with the rest of the team.

You nod as they take off and make your way down to the center of the pitch where Hooch is already waiting.

“Ah, y/n! Beautiful day for a match yeah?” She greets as you approach.

You offer a tight smile and nod as you see Theodore approach, cocky smile in place.

“Alright, you two know the drill. Snitch or broomsticks, Ravenclaw, your call, on three,” Hooch says, holding a large gold coin out on her palm.

You feel Theodore’s eyes on you as Hooch tosses the coin into the air.

“Broomsticks.”

The three of you watch as the coin hits the ground, three gleaming broomsticks shining in the sunlight.

Theo’s lips tighten, but he doesn’t say anything.

“We’ll take the ball first then,” you say with a tight lipped smile.

“Very well, go on then, shake hands.”

Swallowing your displeasure, you tentatively extend your hand.

With a lop sided grin, Theo grasps your hand.

“Like your flowers Principessa?”

“They were lovely. Really spruced up the trash can.”

Without another word, the two of you returned to your respective sides of the field, joining your teams in the air.

“We got ball,” you shout, once you’re within earshot of your teammates. The boys let out a whoop of excitement.

“Let’s make this a nice, clean match today, yeah?” Hooch shouts from her place on the field. Without waiting for a response, she points her wand at the chest, waiting below and the lid flies open, releasing the balls within.

Your eyes immediately lock onto the quaffle as it makes its way into the air, diving down and snatching it, a chaser on either side of you. You slip easily into your rhythm of dodging and weaving around your opponents, passing the quaffle around as you make your way to the opposing goal posts.

As the ball is being passed back to you however, Enzo pushes past, intercepting. Cursing under your breath, you whip around, close on his tail.

As if seeing your need, a bludger whizzes straight at Enzo, forcing him to drop the ball into your waiting arms.

This time, you’re able to make it to the opposite side, but with Theo and Enzo close on your tail, you’re forced to surrender the ball to your teammate who narrowly misses.

“Next time!” You shout in encouragement.

This back and forth goes on for what seems like ages, with neither team managing to score a point.

Finally, the ball is back in your arms as you speed towards Flint.

“Don’t choke now, Principessa,” you hear Theodore shout from beside you on the right.

“Please. Save your breath. You’ll probably need it to blow up your next play,” you retort.

“You know your ass is probably jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” Theo snaps.

“Yeah? You’d love to see my jealous ass wouldn’t you?”

Theo jolts in shock, and that moment is all you need to take a dive to the right, securing the first goal of the match.

It all falls into place after that and soon enough, your team is up 80 points. A comfortable lead, but not enough.

“C’mon guys! C’mon! Keep it up, this one’s ours!” You hear your keeper shout as they toss the quaffle to you.

You nearly fumble the catch as a bludger soars past your broom.

“Stay on her and keep those damn bludgers away!” You vaguely hear Cho call out to one of your beaters as you again make your way to the opposite end of the field.

After scoring two more goals, the Slytherin team finally gets the idea to begin putting more pressure and focus on you, with at least one chaser always guarding you.

“For Rowena’s sake, I don’t even have room to breathe!” you shout as you pass Cho briefly.

As the match continues with no end in sight, Mattheo and Blaise begin to grow bolder, narrowly missing a few heads. Their own teammates’ included.

“Watch it you bloody wanker!” You hear Enzo call out after Blaise nearly takes out the end of his broom.

With a sharp turn, you’re able to break away from his steady pursuit just long enough to safely secure the quaffle once more.

“Dammit Enz,” Theo grunts as he flies up beside you.

You ignore their bickering, eyes taking in the field and your surroundings. You spot your other two chasers gliding below you, gearing up to be positioned for a clear pass. Your beaters are no where in sight, and only Rowena knew where Cho was flying off to.

You make several attempts to lose the two green robed Slytherins on either side of you, but they remain stuck to your side.

Suddenly, you see Enzo’s broom dip. Thinking this is your chance, you turn quickly, trying to see if you have a clear pass to one of your teammates.

“Y/n!” Theo shouts.

But it’s too late.

The last thing you remember is the feeling of falling and strong arms wrapping around you before everything goes black.

When your eyes finally flutter open, the first thing you notice is the sky and how dark it is. What time was it? Slowly, you begin to sit up, a distinct pounding in the back of your head causing you to wince slightly. Looking about, you realize you were in the hospital wing and still in your quidditch robes. Ew.

The next thing you notice, is the mop of soft brown hair lying face down on the hospital bed beside you. As your eyes follow the body down to the chair it’s slumped on, you take in the familiar green robes that distinguish the boy as a Slytherin.

The hairs on your neck prickle as you recognize the boy. How could you not?

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a poke.

No sign of life.

“Theodore,” you say, a bit louder this time, shaking him gently.

“Shove off Matt. You and Toria can find another place to shag for the night,” he grumbles, shifting further into the coarse hospital bed blanket.

You let out a snort.

“Seriously Theodore, wake up,” you say, growing frustrated.

Finally the boy sits up groggily before appearing to remember where he was.

“Oh. Mornin principessa,” he drawls, smiling lazily at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What happened? And why on earth are you here of all people?” You ask, ignoring the pet name that you seemingly couldn’t shake as a yawn escapes you.

“That’s really no way to treat your knight in shining armor.” Theo tsks, stretching his arms out and leaning back in his chair. “I’m the one who caught you after Matt knocked you off your broom after all. Bludger to the head is no joke.”

You grimace. No wonder your head was throbbing.

“What a fucking git,” you grumble, falling back onto the bed.

Theo shrugs, not seeming to disagree.

Stupid Mattheo and his stupid bloody aim. Utter shit. And of course it had to be bloody Theodore of all people who saved you. Though you weren’t entirely sure you minded, closing your eyes briefly, an image of Theo in his quidditch uniform flashing through your mind.

“You never answered the second question.” You say after a moment of silence.

Theo looks at you, his head cocked to the side.

“Why are you here?”

“You’re hurt,” he says simply, as if it made all the sense in the world.

Your frown doesn’t quite reach the tips of your mouth as you look over at the brunette boy staring back at you.

No matter how many times you told yourself that you utterly detested the boy, you were never quite able to say it with your full chest. And for Rowena’s sake, it was not fair for someone to look this good at this time of night, in sweaty quidditch robes.

“You don’t like me.” You say quietly, not quite sure how true that statement truly was as the boy’s eyes had yet to stray away from you.

“Oh I can’t stand you.” Theodore replies, suddenly much closer than you remember.

“You’re the absolute worst person on earth,” you say, feeling yourself magnetize towards the boy beside you.

“I despise you with every bone in my being,” he responds before slowly, tentatively closing the gap.

His lips are fire against yours, not burning, but consuming. You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation of his lips moving hungrily against yours as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you in closer. You would definitely be blaming this lapse in judgement on the fact that you’d taken a bludger to the head earlier. Or maybe not, you think hazily as a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Easy there principessa,” Theo murmurs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s not hurt that pretty little head of yours.”

With a silent nod, you lean back, mind still reeling a bit given the night’s events.

Hesitantly, as if not wanting to spook you, Theo edges his way onto the bed beside you. Realizing his intent, you scoot over a bit, allowing yourself to be tucked carefully into his arms.

“If it makes you feel any better about being knocked out, Ravenclaw did end up winning. And your team visited after the match was over.” Theo says as you rest your head on his chest.

You smile at that.

“Good. Slytherin is shit.” You reply.

“You take that back.”

“Make me.”

Theo’s lips find yours once more, and you feel him grin against your lips.

“I’m still mad about those flowers you sent by the way,” you say once he pulls away.

A smirk overtakes Theo’s face as he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry principessa.”

“No you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“No I’m not. That was one of my better bits I’d say.”

“It was pretty good.”

Another yawn escapes your lips, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy holding you in his arms.

“Sleep now, principessa,” he says, fingers stroking gently through your hair.

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Not a single person was surprised when the Slytherin and Ravenclaw quidditch teams walked into the infirmary the next morning to find the two of you wrapped in each other’s embrace.

“Bloody took them long enough,” Mattheo says, finally breaking the silence.

Cho can’t help but nod in agreement.

The rivals to lovers quidditch fic that no one asked for, but I wrote anyways 🤗

[infictionalwonderland]

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰

[communistkenobi]

I’ve watched the first three Mission Impossible movies now and it’s crazy how they’re all completely different films from one another lol. which probably has to do with the fact that they all had radically different directors (Brian de Palma, John Woo, JJ Abrahams), but the only real consistent through line is Tom Cruise. Because even within the ten year time-span between their releases, the series is already unrecognisable from itself

The first one is a 1990s genre-defining heist spy movie and its concerns are very much rooted in the fact that the CIA is now basically this massive institutional leftover of the Cold War with many hanging threads that need to be dealt with (one of the main McGuffins being a list of names of undercover CIA agents scattered throughout ‘Eastern Europe’). When I first watched it I thought it was pretty good but not like great, but after having watched two of its sequels and thought about it some more I’m a lot more positive on it. The imagery of that movie is unforgettable, the highlight being the completely silent scene where Tom Cruise hangs from a wire in an all-white room trying desperately not to touch the floor. It’s crazy that de Palma directed this and Carrie and Scarface, all films with scenes permanently lodged into the cultural consciousness. And like it is a distinctly ‘cool’ movie, but not in the insane rabid jarhead post-9/11 action movie cool way, like there isn’t this fascistic military masculinity grafted onto it, its way more sleek genius spy guy shit. Anyway this one is really good.

The second movie is pretty bad and often barely comprehensible, like the scene-to-scene editing is hard to follow and the pacing is horrible. The experience of watching it is like watching Face-Off (another John Woo movie), like same weird ass vibe and editing except in this case the movie is boring and bad. Some of the stunts are pretty cool but they can’t really rise above the film they take place in. It’s also not a spy movie, it’s just a bad action movie. I feel like MI2’s biggest crime is trivialising Tom Cruise, like he has no presence or command in that film at all, he’s literally just a random guy with long hair. It’s insane the immediate drop in quality. This one is about a bio-engineered virus that the villains want to use to start a pandemic, but the concern feels very far away and immaterial ? Idk I really didn’t like this one

And then the third one is also just as bizarre because it looks and sounds and is written exactly like a Michael Bay film, down to the same vibrant ugly orange-blue colour palette and quippy dialogue and saccharine ending. And it’s also not a spy movie either lmao!!!! Like god the jump in representation of US intelligence agencies from 1996 to 2006 is staggering, it’s moved from using fantastical spy gadgets to very real military hardware and technology, only keeping the spy-magic tech in MI3 (like 3D printing the villain’s face as a mask disguise) because it was already established in the first one. And the action scenes are straightforwardly action scenes, shootouts with military helicopters and dodging precision drone strikes. Tom Cruise does an insane amount of running in this movie and it looks sooooo good, like there are so many long-ass shots of him just fucking booking it at full speed and that dude’s running form was made to be captured on film. But MI3 is like so deeply entrenched in Bush era catch-the-terrorists stuff, though somewhat offset by having Philip Seymour Hoffman as the main villain instead of like Al-Qaeda (although the main anxiety has still firmly shifted from a post-Soviet ‘Eastern Europe’ to a scary generalised terrorist ‘Middle East’). But again it feels so incredibly different in tone and fixation and motivation than the first film. 9/11 really did permanently break the brains of every USAmerican. Anyway I can’t wait to watch the next one

[quill-beetlewing]

I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

[lingering-42-long]

141 + extra when they get home from war

Y’all be too much lol. This is my third head cannon and the Mother’s Day one is still on the top of the likes list and I don’t know why like that one was my trash one and everything else I like put time and effort into. It’s like offering people a gourmet meal or Ramen noodles with chicken nuggets, lol I’m glad everybody does enjoy my Content though, and I hope that you all enjoy this one as well!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: PG-13, mentioning of sex, fluff, suggestion of angst

Captain John Prince

• when he gets home, he’s usually pretty tired.

• Don’t be alarmed if he just wants to sleep when he gets home.

• Usually you pick him up from the airport and he will load in his bags with a grunt and say that he could really use some good sleep.

• He smells like gun powder and dirt, even though he just took a shower.

• When he gets home, he will give you a kiss, then head off to bed no matter what time of day it is.

• He’s just that tired.

• When he wakes up the first thing he does is go back over to you and give you a proper kiss and a proper greeting.

• Make sure that you have some food for him. He’s going to be hungry, and he really needs some thing that’s more sustainable than MREs.

• He wants to hear about your life and what you’ve been up to while he’s been at work.

• Listening to you talk is one of his favorite past times and it helps him relax. Sitting in front of the couch while watching some TV show while you’re rambling on about the past months and about what you’ve been up to really brings a smile to his face.

• He likes to catch up on his reading.

• This man enjoys reading with a cigar in his mouth and a glass of bourbon.

• If you’ve picked out a new book for him to read, he will be gladly appreciate of of it.

• But most importantly, he would want you to be in his lap while he’s reading, but if you don’t like the smell of cigar smoke near your face, he will make sure not to smoke near you.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• Simon comes home as Ghost.

• The persona of a vengeful wraith and the shell of a once human is what your are graced with.

• He is very quiet, very solemn, and very cold.

• This is because he’s just dealing with his PTSD.

• He needs time to heal from recent encounters. This can take as little as one week to as long as three months.

• After badgering him enough times, to go see a therapist, he obliges.

• Though he’s pretty cranky about it.

• Give him space. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but right now, he doesn’t trust himself, especially with the nightmares raging through his mind.

• His nightmares are so vivid that it can be hard to distinguish Friend or foe.

• This is due to the fact that he needs to be working or else those vile thoughts come hunting him.

• He will never tell you about what goes on while he’s away.

• Once Ghost disappears, Simon takes his place.

• The poor broken man is just tired, and he just wants to lay next to you and hear about your day or months.

• Once you become stable enough, he begins to be more active around the house instead of just brooding in the bedroom.

• He hast to keep himself busy at all times.

• No rest for the wicked.

• Hast to sleep with a lamp on.

• Even though he seems harsh around the outside, he loves you deeply, and that’s why he separates himself from you for a certain time.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Opposite of Ghost, Johnny is so excited to see you!

• As soon as he gets off the airplane, he runs over to you!

• This man is all over you before you even see him!

• He starts asking you 1 million questions about how your months have been and what’s been going on with his family and any news on the recent football (soccer) matches.

• You actually have to calm him down because he’s all over the place.

• When you get into the car, he is kissing you all over your face.

• This man has enough energy to run to the moon and back, and it shows.

• He’ll try to take you right there if only he wasn’t in a car confined by a seatbelt

• Johnny is quick to help around the house and do whatever task you need to do.

• He says he’s making up for lost time.

• If you’ve decorated the house in a new way, he will always compliment what you’ve done to it.

• Johnny wakes up early in the morning and practically begged you to join him on a hike.

• It could be down pouring for all he cares about but he really wants to be with you while he’s working out.

• He will bring you back a souvenir probably something stupid like a rock or a jar of sand.

• If he gets any scars, he shows you and starts pointing them out and tells you the story about each and everyone of them.

• He won’t go into great detail about how gruesome the battling was.

• He wants you to be in his life every step of the way, even if you’re at home.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Kyle is grinning from ear to ear when he sees you!

• He’s not as hyper as Johnny, nor is he a stoic as his captain.

• He has the perfect mix between excited and tired

• When you to get home, he says that you two should just order pizza and he’s dying to play a video game with you even if he’s a little tired.

• Kyle doesn’t go into a lot of detail about his work. He’ll just make an occasional gesture about what he saw what he did.

• Like soap, he’ll bring you back a souvenir.

• He actually takes time with his souvenir shopping though, and we’ll go to local markets installs to actually pick you out some thing that you might like.

• Happy to be with you and glad to be away from the fighting.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• When he comes home, his first instinct is to drop his bags by the door, and bring you into a warm and passionate kiss and hug.

• As much as he loves his job and all of his soldiers and team, some thing about being at home with you makes him feel truly loved.

• He may be tired, but he still going to serenade you like it’s his last day on earth.

• If you haven’t started making dinner yet, he will help and participate with whatever you’re doing. He may be tired, but he’s never tired for you.

• He loves watching you move around the house.

• He’s not going to deny it, but you wearing his clothes and cooking dinner with him really turns him on.

• After dinner, he may propose a night in bed to you.

• This man serenades you in sex especially after he’s been away for a long time

• Physical touch is his love language, and he loves being with you.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Like his commander, when he comes home, all he wants to do is drop his bags and immediately embrace you and a warm hug while rubbing your head and whispering how much he’s missed you.

• He also wants to help you cook dinner, or do some thing, but if you go, tell him to take a shower and to relax, he won’t deny that he needs it.

• Rudy loves reading a book with you so after dinner he will want to skip the washing dishes and ask if you would like to read with him before going to bed. No matter what time it is in the day. If he’s tired enough, he will once to at least read a little bit before falling asleep.

• Once he’s asleep, the bags underneath his eyes seem to disappear. He knows you’re close and he knows that you’re safe and that’s all that he could ever ask for to make him happy.

König

• As soon as he gets off the airplane and sees you amongst the crowd of people, his anxiety stops, and he immediately makes his way to you.

• He can’t sleep on an airplane, but as soon as he’s in the car, he’s about ready to doze off. You have to remind him not to though, because waking him up or trying to drag him out of the car is near impossible.

• He is really trying hard not to pass out in the car.

• Once he gets home, he stumbles into the kitchen looking for a nice tall glass of water to drink, and a sandwich or two to eat.

• Make sure that you keep the sandwiches stocked.

• This man will then make his way to the bedroom, take a cold shower, get into some warm PJs, and then slip into bed.

• Once he’s asleep, he will stay in his hybernation for roughly 3 days.

• He will only wake up to use the restroom, get a drink of water, or to eat some thing.

• When his mind is on the battlefield, he rarely puts himself into a sleep state, but when he’s at home, it’s like all of the hours that he missed, sleeping or suddenly compiled in a single week.

• Just let him rest, and sooner or later, he’ll wake up from his hibernation, and will seek you out so that he can give you kisses and hugs and ask how your time has been away from him.

Alex Keller

• When Alex gets back, like everybody on this list, he is tired.

• His leg is very sore from the prosthetic. Prosthetics are not comfortable and cause I’m serious leg and back pain.

• He will ask very nicely if you could massage his leg for him when he gets home.

• Once he’s in the car, Alex is taking off that damn prosthetic leg and rubbing his stump.

• You can tell he’s in a lot of pain just by the way, his eyes crease, and a frown forms.

• In order to get him off of the pain, you talk to him about his time.

• This usually makes him perk up since he enjoys talking to you about his adventures.

• His personality is like a mix between Johnny and Kyle, but leans more towards Kyle.

• When you get home you’ll have to help him walk because he really does not want to put on his prosthetic.

• You just leave the bag in the car to get later.

• When Alex gets into bed, it’s like a huge sigh of relief washes over him.

• You can see how red and agitated his amputated limb is.

• You do what you can to make him feel better by applying some numbing cream and giving him some pain relieving medicine.

• He always feels better once you start massaging his leg and even more so if you give them a back rub.

• This man is a simple man and enjoys a simple massage after months of no rest.

Philip Graves

• Like a soldier from World War II coming home to meet his best girl.

• He always surprises you when he comes home and has one of his shadow men drive him to the house.

• He always buys you a huge bouquet of flowers and some pretty jewelry as well.

• When he walks through the door, he asks where his baby girl is.

• And of course you come running and giving him a huge hug and crying, which he immediately envelops you into a hug.

• He’s whispering in your ear with that southern drawl about how much she misses you.

• He gets a little into himself when he’s talking about how his mission is or how he was able to handle such a dangerous and daunting task.

• As egotistical, as this may seem, it is his way of expressing his love for you in a slightly weird way.

• In the evening, he’ll probably swoop you up into a dance, with both of you, smiling and laughing.

• He tells you how much he misses you and how much he loves you.

• In bed, he shows you how much he means both of those things.

[maxdibert]

Why do you critizice Dumbledore for being a neglectful teacher but you don't critizice these things in Snape/or don't hold him to the same standards? Both of these men were dealing with their own shit which prevented them from being perfect or good teachers (Dumbledore had a whole war going and political image to keep and Snape was dealing with shit ton of guilt and a responsibility as a spy) so why do you dislike Dumbledore for this reason? Especially in the case of Tom Riddle.

For several reasons:

First, because his ethical and moral system is absolutely incompatible with mine. I don’t believe in giving everything for a greater good, much less in sacrificing people for some bigger plan. I couldn’t care less if the world goes to hell as long as I can spend the rest of my days with my loved ones. I don’t care if everything falls apart, as long as my people are safe. In an apocalypse, I would save my people. In a war, I’d grab my people and get them to safety, and the rest can fend for themselves. I don’t believe in the greater good because it’s a very relative concept, and to me, it seems like a cheap excuse to ease your conscience while doing horrible things to achieve a goal. It’s a hypocritical and cynical way to justify questionable actions.

Second, this leads me to the fact that Dumbledore seems, in fact, like a cynic and a hypocrite. He acts as if he cares about people, but in reality, he only cares about his own plans, and if someone doesn’t fit into them, they can go to hell—he won’t lift a finger. He gives others ethical lessons when he has zero morals to do so. You can’t act all noble with Draco Malfoy in the sixth book, trying to stop him from doing something crazy, when you’ve ignored him for six years. You can’t pretend to be Harry’s friend when you’ve known from the start that if necessary, you’d sacrifice him. You can’t tell a 21-year-old Snape he’s worthless when you were the one who completely ignored the bullying he suffered and even silenced him when he was nearly killed. Are you surprised Riddle had an antisocial personality? You knew he did, and you did nothing, only to feign surprise later. What the hell, Dumbledore—you’re an individualist with hero delusions. Accept it—that’s not even my problem. My problem is that you believe you possess the truth and moral superiority when you clearly don’t. Snape might be many things, but he never pretends to be good, never gives moralizing speeches, never acts like a hero, and never hides his awful character. Severus is honest, and that’s why people don’t like him—but I’d rather have someone terribly unpleasant but honest than someone equally unpleasant pretending to be a good person.

Third, this brings me to his negligence as the direct authority responsible for all those children. He was the headmaster, responsible for ensuring the teaching staff was competent, for preventing abuse, for taking care of the kids. He hired teachers who were utterly unfit for the students (because everyone talks about Snape, but Hagrid playing with highly dangerous creatures around children? Lupin not taking his potion? Gilderoy Lockhart? Quirrell? Hello??). He ignored the abuse happening right under his nose, failed to intervene despite knowing that future dark wizards were being groomed, didn’t address serious acts of violence, and chose to marginalize an entire house in favor of another, knowing full well that house was ideologically critical and that excluding them could reinforce those beliefs. I’m sorry, but most Death Eaters were recruited as teenagers—if he had done his job as an educator, many of those recruits could’ve been avoided. His job was to be responsible for the children, guide them on the right path, and provide the necessary resources and tools. He didn’t care at all. Slytherin? Well, figure it out on your own. That’s how he operated, fully aware of the danger. I’m sorry, but he can go to hell. There’s nothing I hate more than an irresponsible person posing as a beacon of morality.

[shy-sapphic-ace]

List of queer books I read, loved & recommend!

(There isn't any particular order, I wrote these as I remembered them)

Master Of One - Jaida Jones & Dani Bennett (mlm, fantasy, very cool worldbuilding and magic system, funny, cool characters)

Legends & Lattes - Travis Baldree (wlw, fantasy, very soft & chill vibes)

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon (wlw, high fantasy, cool worldbuilding, kinda reminds me of LOTR but with more dragons and feminism and lesbians)

Even Though I Knew The End - C.L. Polk (wlw, supernatural noir, cool 1930s detective story with angels & demons, I loved this one!)

The Love Interest - Cale Dietrich (mlm, science fiction, very cool concept)

The Darkest Part Of The Forest - Holly Black (side mlm, fantasy, cool fae lore)

The Weight Of The Stars - K. Ancrum (wlw, not quite science fiction but space stuff is involved, lovely and complex characters)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz (mlm, fiction, very nice in general, there is also a sequel)

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue - Mackenzi Lee (mlm, historical and vaguely fantasy, nice story but I preferred the sequel honestly)

The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy - Mackenzi Lee (wlw, the sequel to the one before, more fantasy elements than the first, asexual main character!!)

Gallant - V.E. Schwab (no romance, but in the background one of the characters(?) uses they/them pronouns, very cool dark fantasy vibe)

Stranger Than Fanfiction - Chris Colfer (gay main character, trans main character, coming-of-age, nice book)

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (yes it's the Love, Simon book, mlm, fiction, pretty nice)

They Both Die At The End - Adam Silvera (mlm, sci-fi ish but mostly fiction, cool ideas, but the ending is sad! Very amazing book though, I haven't read the prequel yet)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid (wlw, bi main character, historical fiction, cool story, just a neat book in general)

This Is How You Lose The Time War - Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone (wlw, sci-fi, very cool time travel stuff!! and very beautiful, it felt like reading poetry most of the time)

One Last Stop - Casey McQuinston (wlw, background trans & pan & queer characters, sci-fi or fantasy idk, but time travel, I loooved this book, great)

The House In The Cerulean Sea - TJ Klune (mlm, fantasy, THIS BOOK oh my gosh you should read it!!, just cute and lovely and good)

Under The Whispering Door - TJ Klune (mlm, fantasy, this book is also sooo amazing, great character development and awesome relationships and stuff, it's been a while since I read it but it was so good)

In the Lives of Puppets - TJ Klune (mlm, ace main character!!, sci-fi, now THIS is found family, oughh feelings. argh, tj klune you’ve done it again, a human and his family of funky robots… I love them)

And They Lived... - Steven Salvatore (nblm, fiction, about gender identity and learning to love yourself, read it a while ago but it was very nice)

I Wish You All The Best - Mason Deaver (nblm, fiction, about finding your identity and people who care about you, very cute and sweet)

The Song Of Achilles - Madeleine Miller (mlm, historical, very good in general)

Carry On - Rainbow Rowell (mlm, background wlw in the third book, fantasy, it's a trilogy, basically Harry Potter if it was gay and also better)

Silver In The Wood - Emily Tesh (mlm, fantasy, very pretty, lots of fae stuff and lovely descriptions, it has a really good sequel too)

Pretty much anything by Alice Oseman (all cute and lovely and great, though I've only read Radio Silence so far I hear only good things, Solitaire is on my to-read list)

I Kissed Shara Wheeler - Casey McQuinston (wlw, fiction, it's been a while but I liked this book)

The Falling In Love Montage - Ciara Smyth (wlw, fiction, this book was so cute and funny and deeply emotional it made me Feel way too many things, I'd definitely recommend it)

What Big Teeth - Rose Szabo (a bit of queerness all around, fantasy, werewolves and monsters, this one was pretty cool!, lots of original ideas for the world/character building)

His Quiet Agent - Ada Maria Soto (mlm, asexual, fiction, about like spies but this book was so gentle and sweet I wanted to cry in the best way possible)

Some By Virtue Fall - Alexandra Rowland (wlw, historical fiction(?), theatre drama!! rival romance!! duels!!, a very good read in general)

Don’t Want You Like a Best Friend - Emma R. Alban (wlw, historical fiction, I’m not usually one for regency romances, but I really liked this!!, very cute and lots of drama, and there’s a sequel coming out soon!)

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 17: The Winds of War

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 2.8k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ It is too easy for broken hearts to declare war.

Aemond had never felt more conflicted in his life. 

There was scarce ever a time when there were multiple emotions that hit him at once. He was not used to feeling so much in such a short period, it had made him begin to act unlike himself. Though, that was not entirely a bad thing.

Only a few instances in the two millennia of his life had he ever felt so overwhelmed.

The first time was the death of his father. They were never close, but he could recall moments, during the brief periods of his father’s lucidity, when the two of them would sit silently together as they poured through history books. The old king's death did not come as a surprise, but it was crushing regardless. 

The second time he had been overwhelmed was just shortly after his father's death. His mother quickly died. Elf marriages wound the bond between two souls so tightly that when one dies the other follows. He was more angry then. Aemond had been closer to her. The only bit he had of his fond childhood memories was connected to the scent of those azures that she loved so much. 

There was not so much emotion when he beat Aegon in a duel and became king – that felt more natural to him. 

The third time was when he lost his eye. The pain, wrath, betrayal, and heartbreak were too much for him. After it all, when his vision dimmed to one, it tore out the rest of his heart to kill Prince Lucerys for it. The deed had to be done, there was no other way, but Aemond still cursed himself until the ends of the earth for it. He had been like a brother, a chosen brother, but all failed. 

The war had, like being crowned king, not overwhelmed him. At that point, his heart cared little. 

The fourth and final time he experienced such a myriad of emotions at once was when he made the off-hand decision to welcome a human into his kingdom. A human who had so easily ripped down his very being to expose nothing but the scarred essence of his self. Aemond had resisted at first. It was true – he had cared little. Yet, that sentiment did not last long. It was like his brain punished him at every hour. 

Everything was just her. 

Her,

Her,

Her, 

Was it his hubris that caused the gods to send such a siren? Or was it the cruelty he inflicted on the word? There could be no other explanation for her presence in his life. The gods sent her there to punish him. A thorn wedged in his side, but springed forth a rose that smelled as sweet as she treated the people around her. 

That was what did it, what caused him to fall so effortlessly.

Her unflagging efforts to help. 

Not for any selfish reason, nor any reward. The simple act of kindness gave her satisfaction. As if nothing else mattered in the world. She was determined and stubborn – a bit like himself. Though truly she felt like a foil,  an opposite that brought out something better in Aemond.

He tried to reach inside himself and uncover what she had brought out of him, truly, but it was a struggle at first. 

It had been so long since he had to treat someone that gently, it was foreign to him. All he had to do to relearn kindness was simply watch her. Watch as she tended to her patients so skilfully and passionately, watch as she bonded with Daeron over healing, watch as she spent time with Helaena and encouraged her passions, watch as she brought out a better side to Aegon; one a little more sober that before. 

How could such a being simply be so good?

Humans had caused Aemond nothing but pain in his life. They took his eye, attempted to burn his lands down, and hurt his family beyond anything. Yet, this human – who had miraculously stumbled across his sister one day, hurt and in need – had been able to do what he never thought possible. 

She had caused his heart to beat. 

That was what it felt like. Each time he thought of her, frequently as of late, his heart would beat faster. It was like some kind of locator, the closer she was the faster those thumps came. It breathed new life into his body. 

Aemond was not naive, at least, not anymore. He knew what this meant and why his body reacted the way it did. He loved her, simply and truly. Elves felt more intensely than humans, so it was easier for them to get so strung up in care. It was his kind's greatest strength and greatest downfall. Quick to love, quick to hate. 

That was why it hurt so profoundly when she hurled such accusations at him; called him a liar and implied his good friend Cole had killed her father. It was harsher than any blow on the battlefield. He had welcomed her into his home, and let her have access to his library, all on the words of his sister and this was how she repaid him? He was angry but understood. 

There had to have been a reason for her conclusion. She was not hysterical or had a penchant for making up lies. Something had come up or was discovered for her to act that way. She was still in mourning over Lyra so anything could have set her off. 

Aemond had decided to leave so the both of them could cool off and get their thoughts in order. He would listen to her concerns and address them. However, when he went to her room to visit she was not there. That itself was not unusual, so it did not set off any unease in his mind. She was likely in the laboratory and working tirelessly in her pursuit of a cure. Her recent experiment with Daeron had been a damn close solution and Aemond felt nothing but pride swell in his chest when thinking back on it.

He approached the laboratory door but knew not to barge in. If she was focused, he could not bear to ruin that. He was already on thin ice with her trust. There was nothing in the realm that would make him break it further. He knocked on the engraved wood and waited. 

There was no response. 

Again, that was not unusual. However, when he knocked again with a little more force to make sure he was heard, Aemond was surprised by the slow creaking it made as it opened. The door was ajar, which was unusual. His fingers gripped the handle and he pushed it open. His gaze was lowered and noticed the strewn about papers at first. His brow furrowed as he scanned the area further until… 

Gods no… 

Faster than Aemond knew he could move, he flung towards her body that lay bloody and limp on the stone floor. His heart sank with his body. He assessed her and quickly found an open wound on her side. Aemond had flung off his leather doublet and torn off a sizable chunk from his white shirt to try and cover the wound – as if it would make a difference. He was frantic, scrambling to staunch the wound as he kneeled.

Aemond lifted her limp body with his other arm having wrapped it around the back of her neck. Her head was limp and swivelled to the side, a sight that made him feel sick. His eye searched the room for any immediate threats but found none. He looked back down at her closed eyes. Aemond was too shaken to focus and see if she was breathing or if it had been a trick of the mind. 

He muttered her name a few times like it was some sort of prayer; a plea to anything out there that could hear. Quickly, he released his hold on the wound and brushed her cheek, leaving a trail of blood. He went back to putting pressure on the wound, but truthfully it did not look good. Aemond was not shy of wounds. He had seen countless different ways the body could bleed out – this was one of them. 

“But I came to say sorry…” Aemond whispered. Water gathered at the rim of his eyes. What surprised him the most was that he felt the same tingling sensation on the scarred lining of his other eye. He did not know it was possible, but here he was; nearly weeping over the body of a human. 

Aemond noticed her arm was outstretched and went to move it closer to her body. Surprisingly, he saw something sticking out of her closed fists. He moved the arm that was holding her neck out from under after leaning her head on his thigh. Aemond opened her fist and took out the crumpled piece of parchment. 

Mothers flower. 

Lake water. 

Every little thing.

The last one was underlined multiple times for emphasis. It was her writing, but he could not understand the reason for it. On the table, he saw a myriad of scattered ingredients and an overboiling cauldron. The smell emanating from it was burnt and he could tell she had been brewing something. He looked back down at the parchment and it all came to him. 

His little rūklon had done it.

She had found what very likely could be a cure, but something had taken her from him. He shouted for the guards or any possible person who could hear.

The feeling of hopelessness had morphed into rage. Someone had done this to her; someone who would surely pay the price. 

Hurried footsteps sounded from the door Aemond had left open. In just a short moment, he watched Cole come in. His face morphed into shock at the sight. Aemond had never been more thankful that Cole had been in the area. He needed his friend. 

The other door located on the opposite side of the room burst open. Daeron and Aegon had been in the sick hall but came immediately when they heard the noise. While Aegon had froze at the sight, Daeron sprung into action. He dashed to his brother and fell to his knees to assess the damage. 

“What in the seven hells happened?” Daeron asked.

“I found her like this. Why aren't there any guards around?” Aemond directed his last question at Cole with a fire behind his voice. 

“Early morning is when the night shift switches, my king, there are little guards at this time,” Cole answered. Aemond shook his head before looking back at the woman in his arms. That was not a good enough answer. 

“Daeron?” Aemond voiced. It was clear what he was asking. He needed to know if there was a chance to save her. 

Daeron gave his brother a grim look, “I don’t know.” Those words were like a dagger to Aemond’s heart. Aegon had gathered a bunch of supplies from around the room and dumped them by Daeron so he could start assessing the wound more. 

“My king,” Cole spoke out and Aemond turned to him, “I found these.” He had a scrap of fabric in one hand and a bloodied knife in the other. It was easy to see that the colours of the fabric were part of the emblem of the human kingdom. 

“They must have heard of our efforts to find a cure and snuck in to foil them. The council's suspicion of it being human-made could be correct. She happened to have the misfortune of being here.” Cole theorized. Both Daeron and Aemond were struck by it. Aegon, however, looked at Cole with underlying skepticism. 

“Convenient that you found such an important piece of evidence that was not spotted by us when we came in,” Aegon spoke up while he took over the hold on her wound so Aemond could go see the items. Aegon’s words went unnoticed in Daeron’s attempt to focus on the problem in front of him. 

“It’s laced with taint.” Aemond had taken the knife to inspect it and his voice sounded far away, as if caught in the trouble of wondering if what he said was true. 

“This is a direct attack on our kingdom, your grace. They have gone beyond a violation of the peace treaty.” Cole informed, “We must respond.” 

Aemond did not acknowledge Cole’s words at first, instead choosing to speak to Daeron, “You can heal her wound, right?” 

“I can try,” Daeron looked around the room for any kind of supplies that could help, “But the taint…”

“Then use the previous experiment to halt its spread,” Aemond argued. His anger increased as Daeron spoke. He felt that his brother was giving up on her, but that was not the truth. However, he was so overwhelmed he could not think clearly. 

“The last of the brew was used up on new patients. Even if I were to make more… it would take too long. Aemond, the wound is deep, the taint may have reached her heart already.” Daeron’s words were grim and he had been reluctant to voice them, as if speaking them would make it come true. 

“You will try regardless. Get every fucking healer to work on it.” Aemond commanded. He had never used his kingly voice with Daeron before. It was something Aemond did not wish to do, to command his family as such, but all of his care had gone with her. 

“Cole,” Aemond started, “Send for all of our legions to gather at the border. We ready for war. Send some to gather taint samples as well. They used it on her, so we shall use it on them.” Cole nodded at his king's words and made his way to leave the room. 

As Cole reached the threshold, Aemond spoke again, “I want whoever did this brought directly to me.” Cole hesitated for a moment to really look at Aemond, but eventually nodded and left. With Cole gone, Aemond moved to his brother and presented the parchment that had been in her hand. 

“She was holding this. I assume it may be concerning a cure. Get some healers to work on it as well.” Aemond instructed. Daeron took the parchment and looked over it. 

“I don’t completely understand,” Daeron scrunched his brows at the vague messaging in her scrawl. 

“Elf azure and Lake Rosemagne water,” Aemond clarified. A light behind Daeron’s eyes sparked and it seemed as though he clued in to exactly what she had figured out. 

Once seeing that she was in relatively good hands, Aemond made the prowl for the door to start the familiar habit of plotting war. When he reached the exit, he paused and turned around. His gaze hovered over her still body while his chest rose up and down almost erratically. Both of his brothers could see the emotion flicker over Aemond’s face. They understood her meaning to him and mourned what could have been. 

Without any further words, Aemond stormed out of the room. Daeron got to work quickly and commanded Aegon to help him pick her up. Together, the two elves moved her body into the sick hall and to a private, curtained area. Daeron had yelled at some of the nearby healers, something which he had never done, and commanded them to start brewing both the slowing elixir and a few side brews of the newly modified recipe.

He hoped that the slowing elixir could be administered in time so if the modified version ended up not curing it, the very least would be that the taint would not further damage her body as it recovered from the stab wound. 

However, Daeron would be lying to himself if he said there was a guarantee of healing the wound. It was so deep and human bodies were a lot weaker than elf ones. Aegon, on the other hand, was doing surprisingly well in hiding his fear. He shook just a little but followed his brother's directions to clean the wound. 

Daeron leaned down to put his head against her chest. He was searching for a heartbeat, but could not find one. He then moved to hold her wrist. He waited a few moments. As if a miracle had happened, there was the faintest of thrumming. It came slow and was weak, but it was there nonetheless. Daeron let out a breath he had been holding and nodded to Aegon. 

Aegon understood and tears welled in his eyes and he sighed with relief. Daeron then organized the supplies on a table beside him that was meant for stitching the wood. Despite his lengthy experience as a healer, he had never treated someone he was close with and had an incredible personal investment in their survival. 

As he moved his shaking hands towards the wound, Aegon’s own hands covered them, “You’ve done this countless times, what’s one more?” 

“I can do it.” Daeron’s words were more for his own sake than for Aegon’s; though both needed the reassurance. 

Together, both the brothers provided comfort in their presence while they set about the task of saving a human from near death.

On the opposite side of the castle, the king prepared for war.

Chapter 18: Past, Present, and Future Preview

It was then that it struck you that where you were was a memory – not the present. You could not remember the present. 

Why could you not remember the present? 

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[skybluearia]

I don't think if many people (or anyone at all) can relate to this post, but i see that many people were fans of Harry Potter or Percy Jackson or hunger games as kids, but i was an aogg kid from the very start. I read all 8 books when i was 9 or 10, and i reread it several times over the years, everytime with a new outlook on the world and myself.

Everything about it is nostalgic to me, from the moment Anne met Matthew in the train station, to her friendship to Diana, to her holding a grudge againts Gilbert for 5 years, to her silly mistakes in the first and second book, to her finding new friends in college and Ruby's death in the third book (which was hard to take tbh), to all those letters she wrote to Gilbert in the 4th book, to her marriage and the death of her first child, her meeting captain Jim, Leslie and Miss Cornelia in the 5th book, the 6th book where her children's adventures begin; the 7th book and the arrival of the lovely Merediths; and finally, the last book and the shadow of war over Anne's life, Walter's death and at last, her sons' homecoming and the beautiful ending which brought Rilla and Ken together. It's just that when you read the books you basically follow her all the way from her childhood to her girlhood and then womanhood, and then you start loving her children just as much as you love her. You live in Green Gables and Windy Poplars and Ingleside, you watch her grow old. You follow two generations of the lovliest people in literature. To me it was aogg from the very start and I'm glad about that, reading and rereading it is always somehow the reassurance that I need that the world isn't that horrible of a place, it's just messy, and in dire need for a cup of tea and good old friends you can visit old gardens with on your birthday :)

[salmonight]

Fred Weasley x Hermione Granger x George Weasley Fic recs

(Mainly Fremione tho)

Fred & Hermione & George

Escapism: Hermione parents die when she is little and she gets placed with her abusive uncle. One day she runs off to find her own adventure and meets the twins in the woods. They instantly become besties. Adorable thing.

fun will be made if it is fun that is craved: Ex prankster Hermione plans a prank to deal with umibitch at the same time as a gift for the twins for the valentine's secret gift exchange

Fred/Hermione/George

Banned Books: Harry and Ron get mione banned from the library for two weeks and she is pissed. The twins cant miss out on the fun of helping her spirit a bunch of books away from the library and getting revenge on those two

Fred/Hermione

All One World: I rly adore the characterizations in this fic. Enterily Fred pov. He got insecurities about everyone thinking him stupid and that he can only ever be a comic relife. He also hates how they always talk as if he and George are one person, not different people no matter how similiar. Hermione wears his rule abiding rigid front as a defensive mask. She got more then one and theyre so perfect even Fred in the know sometimes forgets thats what theyre are. She is also sarcastic and witty and very caring and observant. She never fails to identify him right or know the right thing to put him at ease and he does the same for her pulling her out of her flunks.

Band Tees (You're Fucked.): Very bittersweet it literally made me fucking cry by the end. Fred had loved Hermione since the yule ball and he is the only one who knows about her love of grunge punk. They both share their love of punk music. It's just theirs.

Methods: Fred starts a playful flirty banter that Hermione decides to indulge him with joining in. Thats the first time she startles him. She is deadpan and sarcastic and all for teasing him and startling him. They keep up a fluid flirty banter no heed for the audience

A Charming Fairy Godprince: After Ron's mess up before the Yule ball Fred & George takes it into their own hands to cheer Hermione up and be her magical godfathers like Cinderella's. They rewamp her dress and enlist Ginny for her hair. Of course it cant go without over the top very obvious flirting (on Fred's part) and various compliments.

By the Common Room Fire: Fred is sick but still with the usual drama and flair lays across Hermione's lap and demans head scratches like a cat.

Destiny and Chicken: Hermione is sick so Fred brings her soup, tea and potions.

Exploding Potions and Accidental Revelations: Amortia explodes over Hermione in potions class so she smells like what everyone is attracted to. Fred commits social suicide by announcing she smelled the same as usual before knowing what is going on.

Favourite Weasley: The twins invite Hermione out to the Quidditch match. Who's her favorite Weasley? Wrong answers only.

It Looks Better On Me: The twins accidentally soak Hermione and it’s laundry day so Fred throws his jumper at her to wear. Then Fred is sick so he ain’t playing but out to watch the match so Hermione pulls her hat over his head. Later when he is better he flaunt it around so Hermione decides to steal another of his stuff in retaliation. It sparks an all out war.

While You Were Gone: Ron and Harry leave cuz they need a break after the war leaving mione behind which brakes her and the twins take it into their own hands. They basically adopt her as their third. Its rly fluffy and wholesome, warm and fricking hilarious . It also gonna make u wanna murder Ron and Harry :)

A Small Change: Fred got such a good grades in OWLs they thought he cheated but he didn', he is panicked about doing so well and wanna actually try in school so he writes to Hermione and she helps him. They become rly good friends from then and start to exchange letters and meet up a few times. Theyre rly wholesome and his anxiety about school and his family's reaction is just so real

don't you know you've got the best of me?: Hermione meets the twins and their friend group on the train and they meet again at the sorting. She ends up talking with the twins a few more times and they end up adopting her into their friend group. She aint rly that close with Harry and Ron and she befriended them much later. Most of her friends are all of the twins' year. She is the closest with Fred and theyre best friends, he is also very protective and possessive of her.

Whole New Meaning to "Mooning" Over Someone: When you throw something during the full moon your soulmate 'catches' i. Aka a frustrated Hermione throws her book during the full moon which consequently smashes into a poor sleeping Fred's face.

i wanted to see you again, so please be gentle: Soulmates and modern au with under caffeinated disaster Hermione bulldozing over the interaction not even realizing she met her soulmate. Absolutely hilarious first liner.

Straight Into My Arms: Every year since he was five fred asked for his soulmate from santa till one day they literally fell out of the sky and landed in their arms

George/Hermione

Fancy a night in?: Post-war. George finds any excuse to go over to Hermione's and make her smile.

To be updated...

[charles-leclerc-official]

Formula 1 Drivers as Supernatural Episodes

I have selected 2 episodes from the CW's hit show Supernatural for each driver in the 2024 F1 season. Enjoy!

These are episodes I feel fits a driver's personality/vibe/style/history and are meant to be complimentary. This is very vibes based XD

Presented in team order <3 (also I guess spn spoilers warning)

Charles Leclerc: Lazarus Rising x The Man Who Would Be King

Charles and the angel Castiel have a lot in common. Charles is seen as this figure that is leading Ferrari currently and into the future and his first season in Ferrari was iconic (Lazarus Rising) Dare I say some of his drives have been as insane as pulling a man out of hell. However it's been a bumpy road and the burdens of one of the most iconic teams is enough to try the patience of any man (The Man Who Would Be King) There are a lot of faith and religious parallels to be made here. If there was one driver insane enough to try to single-handedly fix heaven (Ferrari) Charles is that driver. Also you could cast him as Cas and I don't think anyone would complain. I could go on about the Charles-Cas parallels but we do have to get to the rest of the grid, so he gets two stand-out Castiel episodes.

Carlos Sainz: Trial and Error x The Devil You Know

Carlos sometimes smashes through plans like a hammer, sometimes you need schemes other times you need to throw them out the window and start punching (The Devil You Know). He's also been through the Ferrari trials which is no small feat, often requiring a lot of pressure and sacrifice (Trial and Error). I also feel like he could wrestle a hellhound and come out winning.

Lewis Hamilton: Swan Song x First Born

I felt that one of the most iconic final battles in Supernatural of Swan Song was fitting to encapsulate Lewis' many hard fought WDCs. In addition to First Born, where Dean goes to take the mantle of the mark of Cain from a man who keeps bees in his retirement (Lewis taking WDC from Seb parallels) Both massive turning points in the show and iconic, like Lewis. A lot of small plot and emotional beats in these two that really touch on some career moments.

George Russell: Defending Your Life x Girls Girls Girls

If there was any driver on the grid who would enter into a legal battle against an ancient god and win it's George Russell (Defending Your Life). Additionally George is one of the few who could pull off witchcraft with ease while looking iconic doing so (Girls, Girls, Girls) I just think George and Rowena would get along and get up to some trouble with the book of the damned.

Max Verstappen: The Executioner’s Song x In The Beginning

The parallels of young talent coming in to take down the former bearer of the mark of Cain to Max's 2021 WDC are strong. It was hard, it was messy, and it was one hell of a fight (The Executioner’s Song). Then we have more emotional nuance (In The Beginning) a guy who just likes cars and is kind of old school about them too. These episodes are nuanced and plot centric and that felt fitting. The vibes are here you have to trust me on this.

Sergio Perez: Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven x Criss Angel is a Douchebag

Do not underestimate Checo, much like you should not underestimate an arch angel that is related to you, and yet. The parallels between Adam, the third Winchester brother, and Checo are not lost, especially in meta context (Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven). Then of course Checo does have a flair and charm about him, he can pull a trick or two out of a car when people least expect (Criss Angel is a Douchebag).

Fernando Alonso: Good God Y’all x Weekend at Bobby’s

Fernando is chaos, he's here to cause unapologetic trouble, if he were to be a horseman of the apocalypse he'd be War and he'd have a hell of a time (Good God Y'all). Of course if there was one driver on the grid I know could figure out how to get his soul back from a demon after selling his soul in the first place Fernando would be that driver (Weekend at Bobby's) Naturally there are many Nando and Bobby parallels.

Lance Stroll: Scoobynatural x Hibbing 911

Of all the drivers on the grid at risk of getting sucked into a children’s cartoon I feel like Lance is at the top of the list (Scoobynatural). In addition I think he would be the chill hunter just casually explaining that ghosts are real to Scooby and the gang. Lance would also reluctantly become a vampire hunter if they invaded his small community (Hibbing 911) And he very much reminds me of both Donna and Jody in various ways.

Oscar Piastri: About a Boy x Jack in the Box

I feel like Oscar would be a good witch hunter, I also think if he was hit with a de-aging spell he'd be able to handle it and not panic and figure out how to get out of that situation, worry about the soul crushing curse later (About a Boy). And of course with the way his second season in F1 has been going it very much feels like Mclaren have been holding back a young driver from reaching his potential because they are afraid of his capabilities, you could say they have been putting a nephilim in a box designed to hold back his power (Jack in the Box). Also I cannot be the only one who sees the Jack and Oscar resemblance.

Lando Norris: Swap Meet x I Know What You Did Last Summer

Tell me Lando would not somehow end up practicing black magic accidentally on purpose and somehow survive (Swap Meet). That and I think he would also really like this episode in general. I feel like the duality between Ruby and Anna presented in I know What You Did Last Summer captures a very specific vibe about Lando, is he the demon trying to trick a guy into drinking his blood? Or is he the angel that decided to become human because he was done with heaven's shit? Depends on the day honestly.

Kevin Magnussen: Rock Never Dies x Survival of the Fittest

If there was any driver on the grid that would make crashing the Impala part of the plan to take down eldritch monsters it would be Kmag (Survival of the Fittest). Rock Never Dies just fits Kevin, iconic, villainous, Lucifer comes back a second time and is ready to cause chaos. The whole vibe of this episode is insane and it fits Kevin's particular brand of heart and unique driving. He's loud, you are not going to forget he's there, you should be afraid.

Nico Hulkenberg: Shut Up Dr Phil x My Heart Will Go On

Nico just has the look of a man who would time travel to get rid of a single Celine Dion song (My Heart Will Go On). He does have a lot in common with Balthazar, fun loving but powerful and can execute a plan, he might just end up adding his own flair to it. And I think Nico's spats with others are not frequent, but when they do happen they are memorable (Shut Up Dr Phil) Plus he reminds me of these old witches who have been married a few centuries and keep the chaos alive.

Ollie Bearman: The Girl with the Dungeon and Dragons Tattoo x Reading is Fundamental

Including Ollie in the Haas section since he's raced for them the most this year on the F1 grid. But his story starts as the young talent called at the last minute to solve a huge problem, driving a Ferrari in Jeddah with an hour of practice. I'd say that's similar to being suddenly asked to single-handedly go against some of the most dangerous monsters in the world with no training in monster fighting (The Girl with the Dungeon and Dragons Tattoo) but also being surprisingly good at it. Then we have another team needing young talent to step up and drive their car when things were down, you could say Ollie is in advanced placement in terms of being an F1 rookie now (Reading is Fundamental) I think the Ollie Kevin Tran comparisons are strong. Overall these two episodes of young talent needed at the last minute to save the day really sum up Ollie's 2024 F1 experience.

Yuki Tsunoda: The Gamblers x A Little Slice of Kevin

Sometimes luck is on Yuki's side, and often times it feels like it's not. But then again he's been fighting and sticking around longer than most other drivers in the face of more bad luck than one man should deal with, so perhaps he's won against an old roman god for a bit of luck, who's to say (The Gamblers). Then we get to the duality in A Little Slice of Kevin, young talent being used as a pawn in the larger scheme of Red Bull, more likely than you'd think. Is he escaping purgatory or being captured by demons? Probably both.

Daniel Ricciardo: Frontierland x Blood Brother

I know one thing about Danny, he would time travel back to the wild west to hunt down a rare monster no questions asked. He would bring his own cowboy hat as well (Frontierland). Danny also has that quality of guy who doesn't ask for much, so when he asks for a favor you gotta help. He also does have similar vibes to Benny, don't tell me he wouldn't make a great southern vampire (Blood Brother).

Liam Lawson: War of the Worlds x Bad Day at Black Rock

Similar to Yuki, Liam's luck is a tricky thing. He was in a will he won't he situation at Red Bull for so long. If he had a rabbit's foot he kept losing and picking up again I wouldn't be surprised (Bad Day at Black Rock). I think the episode really captures that kind of swinging pendulum of luck his junior career has seen. Then of course now he's been called to the seat he's caught up in a pretty intense battle at the end of the season, with a lot of demands being made on top of the constant turmoil within the team. Imagine Lucifer is telling you not to do a spell another powerful arch angel is commanding you to do, I feel like that about sums up how he's been thrown into F1 (War of the Worlds).

Alex Albon: Heart x It’s A Terrible Life

Alex was a rookie that went under the radar, at first, but something bigger was brewing in the background and then boom he was suddenly at the center of the driver market and was thrown into the spotlight. A feeling reflected in It's A Terrible Life. Alex is also the type of try to help someone against all odds, even when they seem impossible (Heart). Also I am not denying I am possibly calling him a werewolf fucker, here but tell me I'm wrong.

Logan Sargeant: Jump the Shark x Dog Dean Afternoon

Logan would do well being able to communicate with a dog and would adapt well to taking on dog-like traits to solve a case (Dog Dean Afternoon) I don't even think he'd question it. Forgotten, overlooked, massively unlucky I don't think there is a better Supernatural parallel for Logan than season 4 Adam (Jump the Shark). He was a great guy who got caught in the middle of something dangerous and paid the price.

Franco Colapinto: Red Sky at Morning x Sharp Teeth

Franco is one of the guys who I just think would be able to make it work for him if he were accidentally turned into a werewolf. He'd take a few months off, come back and be totally fine (Sharp Teeth). I cannot fully explain but Franco does give me Bella vibes, the mix of mischief and amusing self confidence perhaps, or maybe he just has the look of an international occult thief? (Red Sky at Morning) He'd be able to steal rare artifacts using his looks and charm I know that.

Valtteri Bottas: Party On Garth x Everybody Loves a Clown

Valtteri strikes me as the most like Garth. Fun, a little silly, but good at his job and scary when he needs to be (Party On Garth). His methods may seem a little out there but he gets the job done. How could I not include the introduction of the best mullet on Supernatural? I know Valtteri would love Ash and call him #mulletgoals (Everybody Loves a Clown). Another character who seems a little unserious out of the profession but Ash is brilliant and knows how to lock in.

Zhou Guanyu: Hunteri Heroici x Wayward Sisters

Zhou would 100% interrogate that cat and get information. He's probably an expert (Hunteri Heroici). I think his level headed mindset would also really help in a case where the world is literally going Loony toons. Zhou also has been through it, but is strong, and iconic in his unique way (Wayward Sisters). He's been fighting an uphill battle in that Sauber car, new hunter learning on the job has a similar experience, add a little dimension hopping in there for flavor.

Esteban Ocon: Beyond the Mat x Hollywood Babylon

Esteban is a sweetheart but do not be fooled, he absolutely would take down his childhood hero if he needed to (Beyond the Mat). I also think that he'd absolutely be one of those hunters looking for all the old Hollywood ghosts, he'd be an expert about which myths were real or fake and have that locked down over there (Hollywood Babylon).

Pierre Gasly: Monster Movie x Simon Said

I am not saying Pierre is a shapeshifter, but I am saying that if he was he'd be doing the over the top camp and theatrics seen in Monster Movie. Also he like Dean has a way of finding out how to have fun even when things are extremely stressful. If he did have mind control powers he'd use them for good or not use them at all, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to use them or that he's not strong (Simon Said).

That's the end! Thank you for reading. This was just something silly I have been working on. It's mostly vibes based but I had a lot of fun putting it together.

*Carry on Wayward Son + F1 theme mashup starts playing*

[licorice-and-rum]

My response to some "critics" about Babel

Okay, I'm gonna start by saying this: English is not my first language so I may commit some spelling and grammar mistakes here but I felt like I just had to write this down, especially because of the negative reviews this book has that just… didn't get it.

Don't get me wrong, of course you're allowed to not like this book, I recognize that it's most certainly not gonna be everyone's cup of tea but some of the people here just didn't get what this book was all about. Babel isn't a fantasy like ACOTAR, or HP, or whatever (in the sense that, for those, the story guides the message while Babel is the contrary): like many classical books, Babel was written to make a point, it's a romance, sure, but it was written to argue for something - the necessity of violence.

So, first of all: Babel is a historical fantasy, it talks about colonialism, racism, sexism, and other matters with no qualms, no embellishing to make it digestible, no allegories or metaphors because this isn't the point. Kuang's "lack of nuance" as someone here pointed out is very deliberate and extremely important for the story because the points she wants to make are always lost in nuance (just think how many people go on misinterpreting Star Wars, Hunger Games, or even anti-system songs like The Wall ffs), and the message is too important to get lost in allegories.

Second, as to the story, many people seem to think what she's pointing out is obvious "ur dur colonialism is bad, we get it". No, you clearly don't. There's a profound difference between getting it and actually comprehending it to an elemental level. Robin's travel to Canton illustrates that perfectly: he knew that colonialism was bad, he knew it was violent but he didn't comprehend it until he was forced to face it happening in front of him - to people who could've been easily him. More than that, because that was when he finally connected the theory with the reality, it became palpable to him.

It's not enough to get it, you have to actually stay attuned to it, to feel the flow of its violence throughout the world because then, and only then, I'll realize you can't be complacent, you can't turn your head from it. And Babel is an attempt, however tiny, of showing this to you. Of telling you "Look, you're ignoring it, the discomfort you felt reading this is your conscience telling you you relate to that". So no, I refuse to accept that Kuang should have been more nuanced: she was as clear as she could because she knows people say they get it but they don't, not really.

Third, the magical system is just chef's kiss. I've seen many people complaining about it but the thing is: the silver working is not about having magic in the world, it's about creating a palpable, material place where Kuang could center her attention as she talked about the economic aspect of colonialism. That's because colonial power is not centered in one place or thing, it is scattered all around but you can't hardly make a point like Babel's if you have your characters fighting off colonialism in all corners of the world. Like the Capital in the Hunger Games, Babel is a material place that symbolizes something.

Moreover, the silver working symbolizes the Industrial Revolution and its need for the advance of colonialism. More than that, silver-working is about capital, it's about technology to generate more profit, quicker, for a specific class that doesn't care who they have to kill to continue, doesn't care whether it is good or bad for the common folk.

Fourth, many people pointed out how academic Kuang's writing style felt during Babel and they're right, it is indeed very identifiable. I'm sure I even commented something along the lines of "it feels like I'm having the best History lesson of all time". But I'm going to challenge people who say things against the notion that the historical description of Kuang was unnecessary: every time Kuang chose to give the readers historical context has served somehow to the narrative.

I remember early on in the book when Robin was still a teen walking through London and reading anything he could put his hands on, and then we get two paragraphs of historical and political context for the time, then Robin comments that he didn't understand why this mattered so much. That paragraph served so much, both because it made us know a little more about Robin and because it served to make us understand the profound environmental change England was going through at the time.

And every time she did this, it served for something. Again, Babel is a historical fantasy, it is supposed to make you think about the point Kuang is trying to make but you won't understand it if you don't know the context of which Robin and the other characters in the book are coming from. It was a time of decision: either England would consolidate itself as an almost all-powerful oppressor, or it could go down… if the oppressed people - who share a common enemy - understood their responsibility to do something.

The strikes of the English working class, the violent acts of rioters, the advancement in technology, the possibility of the Opium War, the colonialism… it's all important. It's important because it allows us to understand the deep connection between it all. It allows us to understand who profits off of it, and who doesn't; who is able to understand and who isn't. It's why Letty is upper-class. It's why Abel isn't.

It's not as simple as some people think to understand colonialism, the flows through which one thing is tied to another. Why do people ask "How does this affect me?" when we point out deeply unfair things like unpaid maternity leave (I actually saw an American once saying she "wouldn't want her tax money to go to someone who didn't plan through"), like the fact people starve when we have the ability to feed a world and a half, of that Palestine is going through ethnic cleansing? Because they are unable to understand how closely their lives are tied to other peoples they have never met and probably never will.

Kuang's message is not "colonialism is bad", she's saying "These are all the forms through which colonialism is bad to everyone but a few, do something about it", she's saying "Every single one of your struggles is tied together in more ways than you even understand. A person in Haiti, in China, in India, in the other side of the world, has more to do with you than these white rich people, fight with them, stand with them."

Fifth, I can't believe I gotta say this but I'm not going to even bother with you if you think this book is somehow "anti-white": just get over your main character syndrome. We're talking about a historical fantasy set in England in the epitome of colonialism through the eyes of a person of color. Of course, most white people are gonna be bad, get over yourself ffs!

The actual entitlement to the protagonism white people have is maddening. As a white woman (in Brazil, at least), I'm ashamed of some comments here. It's not because white people in this book are majorly racist (which, according to the setting is 100% accurate) that Kuang is talking about you (although, if you're so bothered by it, it's probably about you anyway). This is a book about the experience of people of color under the oppression of colonialism: white people are the problem!

You can't just expect someone to write about colonialism and not talk majorly about race. White people reap all the privileges of this system and not just that, they are responsible for it, and all the crying about being the bad guys is just insufferable (they're actually so right about having to console Letty once she learns about the racism they suffer).

Be f*ing accountable for your privileges, take responsibility for your internalized racism, and be accountable for the system that privileges you. It doesn't matter that it wasn't your fault, that you didn't set up the system, you still benefit from it anyway so get a grip. This story isn't about you at all, it isn't about how some white people fought against slavery or oppression, it isn't about you.

Let's be very clear about this: most white people who fought against slavery did so to serve their own interests, exactly as Kuang points out. This doesn't mean none of them were good people who actually believed slavery was bad but we're talking of a time when racism and racial discrimination weren't even discussed seriously. Most white people, even the ones against slavery would have a deeply ingrained racism in them, so get real.

More than that, though: if those people who actually have no shame in saying Babel is "anti-white" had actually read the book through, they would know that some white people actually help and are good people in the story.

Anyway, Babel is so good, it's so painfully real and so passionately well-written. You can feel Kuang's love for her people, the struggles of what it means to love something but still not be a part of it, the deep understanding of how the world works, and how intricately every single thing in our lives is.

I just felt so heard (as a person from a third-world country) reading Babel, like someone was telling me all this rage and indignation I feel is justified, it's valid. I just treasured it so much, how I identified with Robin's need for security contrasting with his indignation for the price of it; with the rage Griffin carried around him, sharpened and well-directed even in its volition; with the love Victoire had to learn to have for her country and its story; with all the pain I was able to share with someone who understood it.

It's an honor to allow words to change me so fundamentally. It's humbling to realize I'm not alone, that my actions and my feelings are shared by other people. It is really precious, you know, to be able to become a better person than I was before because of a book.

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 2 -  La Valse de Paris

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

AuthorsNote: Chapter 2 of new multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This details our reader settling into Paris and the outbreak of war. Benedict turns up next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

Paris, September 1939

Your first few weeks in Paris are a delightful blur. 

Spending late summer exploring the city - with Solène as your occasional guide and Eloise when she is not at work. You soak up every moment, from the windswept magnificence of standing atop the Eiffel Tower, your words being stolen by the wind, to the monastic silence of the Louvre on a quiet Monday morning. And everything in between - from Notre Dame's atmospheric incense-laden gothic darkness to the airy, resplendent glass dome of Galeries Lafayette that glitters like a prismatic jewel even on cloudy days. 

But perhaps your favourites are the little slices of city life: sitting watching the world go by at a corner cafe, the crunch and warm, pillowy softness of the first bite of freshly baked baguette as you wander back from the boulangerie, the lingering fragrance of the rose garden at the Château de Bagatelle in Bois de Boulogne... It's all pieces of a puzzle that fill your heart in ways that make your life before now seem drab, almost in black and white, like a photograph.

You have written to Stanley once since you arrived, effusive in your praise, a homily to your new home, however temporary. While proclaiming his happiness for you, his response tempered, a touch dismissive of your wonderment. I can scarcely believe any city could truly live up to the praise you so readily heap upon Paris, my love, he wrote back. That was a week ago, and your urge to reply has been muted. 

It's during an idle lunchtime by the Seine, eating a sandwich as you dangle your feet over the river wall, that you genuinely feel a local. An elderly French couple, likely visiting from the provinces, approaches you and asks you for directions to the Musée de l'Homme. Part of you aglow they think you sophisticated enough to look Parisian, and French. And you are able to help them, giving them the information in French, not fluent but sufficient that they are surprised when you confess “je suis américaine”.

In your third week, you secure the art gallery job Eloise had seen posted. An opportunity to meet many new people, primarily British and American, who share your love of art of all persuasions. You spend many a happy hour answering questions and building your knowledge of art, not just in your gallery but across the city. Part of you is wistful to study the subject in even greater depth than the books you borrow in copious quantities from the library where Eloise works.

You grow so close to Eloise so quickly that it’s as if you have known her your whole life. A sense of kinship, a near familial bond. You know, on some instinctive level, she will always be a part of your life somehow. Your evenings are often spent in lounge bars together—venues awash with art deco splendour as you listen to jazz through a cigarette haze and flirt aimlessly with a carousel of handsome men. Life seems so full of potential, a hum in your very being.

“What do you think the purpose of life is, y/n?” Eloise sighs as she flops onto your bed after returning from one such decadent night out.

“Aaaand we are done with the brandy…” you declare, taking the bottle of Martell cognac from her grip and placing it pointedly on the dresser, your high-handed point only mildly undermined by your own unsteady gait.

You collapse down next to her, the intricate ceiling rose around your light fixture swirling slightly before your very eyes.

“Love?” you hazard in answer to her question.

“Boo! Cliché!” she jeers, elbowing you good-naturedly.

“I don’t just mean romantic love,” you protest, “the love of family… friends…”

“Ah, yes, family. Endlessly large family. Don’t suppose you want an extra sibling or two, do you? I could be persuaded to let a couple go,” she squints comically.

“Depends… can I have the artist?” you jest.

“You have to stop staring at that painting; it's getting weird,” she opines with her typical bluntness, “and no, you can’t. You know he’s my favourite,” she pouts.

“I think he’s my favourite too,” you opine over a stifled yawn, any embarrassment about being called out for your unbridled admiration overridden by the sleepy state your comfortable bed lulls you into.

“If you end up being attracted to my brother, I will have to disown you, you know,” she pats your hand drowsily.

“Hmm, good thing he’s so far away…” you trail off with a lazy giggle, eyes drooping heavily.

It’s the last words you exchange before you both fall asleep on your bed.

–

Perhaps, as with all things that are too good, the idyll is temporary. It's the news you wake up to that following morning, September 4th, which throws everything into uncertainty. Solène knocks on your door early with an uncharacteristically sombre expression, wordlessly handing you the morning paper and flicking on the wireless on your mantelpiece, the fine lines on her face deeper etched, furrowed with worry.

‘La Guerre!’ the headline screams from the newspaper. And the voice on the airwaves, your ear more attuned to the language now, details how Britain and France have jointly declared war against Germany for their invasion of Poland a few days prior.

At the sound of the radio, Eloise emerges from your room, blinking and hair asunder, a little delicate from your previous night's revelry. You sip coffee at a loss for what to think or do. It’s an odd cognitive dissonance when life at once seems identical but also changed by an invisible shape - an undercurrent of fear, of the unknown, a punch to the pit of your stomach that you don’t know how to acknowledge - even as you go through the motions of your daily routine and head to work.

By the evening you are more phlegmatic about the situation. Your spirit dampened, yes, but not crushed. You feel an immense sense of privilege that conflict is not yet at your doorstep, but equally knowing being in the capital city of a nation that just declared war against a neighbouring country is not exactly safe.

You and Eloise splash out on dinner at an upscale brassiere that night, one you have both passed and commented you’d love to dine in some time. Both of you seized by the unspoken “what if”, the previous reluctance to treat yourselves entirely absent.

Talk on all the tables around you as you dine - on heavenly butter-soft steak - is about the war. What it could mean for Paris, fear of another major European conflict so soon after the last, the economic concerns - the bite of the early 30s depression just relinquishing its hostile grip on the somewhat bruised denizens.

Afterwards, you wander the cobbled streets back to your apartment, arms looped, bellies full, occasionally staring up at the starry night sky in mostly contemplative, sober silence. It’s a beautiful evening, but something in the warm breeze feels melancholic.

When you open the door to your building, Solène is waiting, rocking on her heels.

“Eloise, a telegram has come for you!” she announces, shoving a piece of paper into her hand. “And a telephone call from England earlier,” she adds, gesturing to the black rotary phone outside her place—the only one in the building.

Eloise gives you a brief glance and then opens the message. You watch her eyes ping across the text before her shoulders slump.

“My mother,” she sighs in explanation, “it appears she is summoning me back home.”

“What?!” the selfish reflex of not wanting to be left alone is the first thing flaring in you.

“It’s not fair!” she whines in a flash of child-like defiance before continuing in a more subdued tone. “She is sending my brother to come get me. She doesn’t specify which, but seeing as Anthony is a Lieutenant General in the Army and has likely been called to Churchill’s side, I'm presuming Benedict,” Eloise surmises. 

Your thoughts instantly fly to that painting hanging in your apartment upstairs. A strange flutter under your ribs at the idea you could be about to meet its creator. Quickly followed by a wash of guilt that you could even focus on such a frivolous thing.

“What will I do without you?’’ You fret aloud, grasping her arm tighter.

“There was a call for you too, y/n,” Solène pipes up. “Your father wants you to exchange your return ticket for a sailing home as soon as possible,” she relays.

“But.. I just got here!” your lament as defiant as Eloise’s. A frustrating sense you are losing a fleeting opportunity you already hold so precious - like a new toy being ripped from the meaty fist of a truculent toddler.

“Mes amis, what can I say?” that trademark Gallic shrug seizing Solène’s shoulders. “While Paris is safe for now, we do not know how much longer that will hold true… it is likely best you return home. Perhaps this will be over in weeks, and you can return?”

You know your parents have paid your rent upfront for a whole year, likely similar for Eloise, your landlady not impacted financially by your leaving, merely a wish for you to enjoy your Parisian adventures.

As you unlock the door to your apartment and wander in, both of you sigh; the illumination from the Eiffel Tower that refracts upon your window pane just adds to your melancholia, a sight that before had never failed to warm your heart.

“When will your brother get here?” your inflection dull.

“Tomorrow, most likely. It only takes a couple of hours to cross the Channel, and as you know, the train ride from the coast is just a few more. I expect he’ll be waiting for me right here when I return from work,” her tone is just as flat as yours.

You want to ask if she will pack tonight, but you stop yourself, seeing the flame that usually burns so bright behind her blue eyes dimmed. Wordlessly, you draw closer and pull her into a firm hug.

“I will miss you like a sister,” she whispers into your hair, returning the embrace just as fiercely, “maybe moreso.”

You nod and band your arms tighter briefly before letting go, bone-deep exhaustion overtaking anything else you see in her mirrored stance.

The last thing that captures your eye as Eloise turns to her room is that painting of her childhood home and, strangely, how it feels closer now than ever before.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[themyscirah]

What runs/stories do you recommend for someone starting WW? Could you please be specific (/nicely)

Yeah ofc!

My Wonder Woman Starter Recs (specific style 😎)

First stops: for an initial introduction to Wonder Woman, I'd generally recommend going to at least one of three places first. These three are:

Wonder Woman: Historia: The Amazons by Kelly Sue DeConnick

Wonder Woman: Year One by Greg Rucka

Wonder Woman: the Hiketeia by Greg Rucka

Of these I generally recommend reading Historia first, as it's a retelling of the origin of the Amazons as a race and how Diana came to be (so it essentially starts from the beginning) and is also the most recent of the them (if that means anything). Something to note about Historia though is that it's a DC Black Label book, so it's events aren't strictly canon in the main DCU and there are some changes and new elements present. I don't think this is something that should discourage anyone from reading it though, it's the best WW origin story out there, and even in strict main canon over the years her origin is one that has had many fluctuations and small (& sometimes big) changes. WW:Historia is three prestige format (longer) issues.

You'll notice the third book there is WW: The Hiketeia. Hiketeia is a great book if you're looking for a view into Diana as a professional and experienced hero. It's a graphic novel so standalone and not too long, and has a great Diana and really interesting plot (Diana vows to protect a young woman and finds herself pressed against the wheels of Greek Tragedy). This is also the first work with Diana done by Greg Rucka, one of her most prolific and loved writers. A sampling of this work (and also Historia) I think gives a good guide to where to go next in terms of runs on her main title.

Wonder Woman: Year One is the second book on the list up there, but I'm mentioning it last here as it's a bit more complicated in terms of format. Unlike other year one books, WW: Year One is actually a series of issues on her main title, showcasing Diana's arrival to man's world in Rebirth (and also current p sure) continuity. The issue numbering for this one is strange (only the even issues 2-14 on WW (2016)) so I recommend looking for this in trade form if possible.

These 3 books I think give a taste of some of the best standalone stuff in the Wonder Woman mythos, and give the reader a good idea of where they may want to go next in terms of longer runs on the title. So I'll break that down here as a Step 2.

STEP 2: WHERE NEXT?

Here I break down some highly recommended runs based on what they have in common with the standalone books from step 1. As a rule, these runs are going to be much longer than the above and generally more connected to the wider DCU and other books. Look for the italics to see the introduction to each new work. Explanation paragraphs follow after each italic/bold rec.

Curious about Greek mythology in WW and the Amazons' origins after reading Historia? Liked the prescence of a supporting cast and Diana learning about Man's World from Year One? Willing to read a longer run? I recommend: Wonder Woman by George Pérez

George Pérez's time on Wonder Woman totally reinvented the character after Crisis on Infinite Earths, and is fundamental in establishing many core concepts of her lore. At 62 issues, 2 annuals, and a 4-issue crossover event at the end (War of the Gods), it's definitely a commitment to read, but it's the most enduring and well-loved run on Wonder Woman for a reason--it's just that damn good. Lots of focus on mythology (although with a lighter tone than Historia) alongside Diana learning her role in relation to Man's World & establishing herself as a hero and ambassador. Pérez's run also has almost-certainly the most expansive and developed supporting cast in WW comics, something that really drives the emotional core of the series, especially in later issues. Obligatory note that this series was written between 1987 and 1992 and contains some very occasional aspects that I thought were in some way dated/uncomfortable etc. while reading (details of Cheetah's origin, depiction of the Bana-Mighdall, Hercules) but despite that I still highly, highly recommend this run. The word fundamental cannot begin to describe it.

Liked the experienced Diana of the Hiketeia? Interested to see her attempt to balance the high stakes responsibilities of an ambassador and superhero? Looking for some really badass moments and fights? Haven't read enough terrible tragedy? I suggest: Wonder Woman by Greg Rucka 2003 EDITION.

Some of Diana's coolest moments of all time are collected here. Also one of her most controversial. The 1st Rucka run is very much the story for anyone who liked the Diana of the Hiketeia and the tragedy of that and Historia. 2003 Rucka Diana is a Diana tested, forced to make decisions that are anything but easy, and live with the consequences. She's extraordinarily capable, but her enemies know that and are prepared to that end. This run, along with the Pérez run, rank among my favorite Wondy comics of all time (those and Historia are my top 3). This run is such peak Diana, especially in terms of sheer badassery. Her final confrontation with Medusa is in my opinion perhaps the greatest Wonder Woman fight scene of all time. Her encounter with Athena in the second-to-last issue breaks me every time. Cannot recommend this book more.

*a note abt this run is that it is more context-dependent than the other ones listed here, as it's the run that finishes out the Wonder Woman vol. 2 book and so has some guest appearances from characters introduced in other prior runs (Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Cassie Sandsmark, and Vanessa Kapatelis, to name a few). I read this run before knowing much (if anything) about any of them, and still enjoyed it a lot, so I wouldn't be worried about this really but just thought I'd mention it.

Rucka's 2003 run is published from Wonder Woman (1987) #195-226. You can also find it in trade and I believe(?) omnibus. Sometimes the Hiketeia is included in collections of this series, as the 03 run is thematically similar in many places, just with a much deeper look at Diana and the world & with higher stakes.

Liked the specific characters and plot threads of Wonder Woman: Year One? Want to see what happens with Diana's exile, or learn more about Barbara Ann? Want a Diana in between the extremes of young and highly experienced? Wonder Woman by Greg Rucka 2016 EDITION may be for you.

...yes I'm putting ANOTHER Rucka book on here. He writes a great Diana, what can I say. This run is the same one that Year One came out of, just the follow ups to that story and versions of the characters. I have this run listed as separate from Year One though, as there's some really big time skips since the events of that first volume. A lot of time has passed since then, and there's more history between the characters, not all of it without drama. This run continues to be weird with the numbering, as well as some artist changes, so I definitely recommend looking into reading this in trade format (physical or digital) if at all possible. My recommended reading order is WW 2016 by Rucka vol. 2 "The Lies" (Wonder Woman: Rebirth Special #1, followed by 2016 main title odd numbered issues 1-11), then Rucka 16 vol. 3 "The Truth" (odds 13-23) then Godwatch (evens 16 through 24) followed by 25? But The Truth and Godwatch combine near the end so that doesn't really work either. This run is so good but recommending it is such a pain because the numbering is so all over the place. On God I never know which order to read this in. Going to revoke my previous statement and say read it as Rebirth Special 1, then only odds 1 through 11, then from 13 through 25 normally. That may lead to some weirdness as you read because the two stories take place at different times and have different art styles, but they come together at the end pretty dramatically so I think it's less confusing to read it this way? Maybe? So strange bc this is one of the go to good starter runs and yet it's set up so unintuitively. If someone has a better way to read this then let me know and ill edit, ik this explanation is super confusing bc neither way to read it is totally ideal imo and I feel I definitely read it in a weird order.

Going to call that a good rundown of some of my greatest recommendations in terms of Wonder Woman comics. If anything wasn't fully clear here or anyone (not just anon) has questions or wants to talk abt WW comics/my choices feel free to send as many asks or dms as you want. Have a good day everybody, & as Diana says, may the glory of Gaea be with you <3